A. No.
Oh, that excited them all! They rustled and coughed and whispered, those in the many seats. Senator Schnell flashed his gold tooth. Senator Loveless, who as his enemy and his adjutant, as it were, a second commander of the committee but of opposite party, frowned under stiff silvery hair. But he knew I would say that, he had heard it all in executive session the night before.
Mr. Hagsworth did not waste the moment, he went right ahead over the coughs and the rustles.
Q. Sir, have you adopted the identity of 'Robert P. Smith' in order to further your investigations on behalf of this committee?
A. I have.
Q. And can you--
Q. (Senator Loveless.) Excuse me.
Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.) Certainly, Senator.
Q. (Senator Loveless.) Thank you, Mr. Hagsworth. Sir--that is, Mr.
Smith--do I understand that it would not be proper, or advisable, for you to reveal--that is, to make public--your true or correct identity at this time? Or in these circumstances?
A. Yes.
Q. (Senator Loveless.) thank you very much, Mr. Smith. I just wanted to get that point cleared up.
Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.) Then tell us, Mr. Smith--
Q. (Senator Loveless.) It's clear now.
Q. (The Chairman.) Thank you for helping us clarify the matter, Senator. Mr. Hagsworth, you may proceed.
Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.) Thank you, Senator Schnell. Thank you, Senator Loveless. Then, Mr. Smith, will you tell us the nature of the investigations you have just concluded for this committee?
A. Certainly. I was investigating the question of interstellar space travel.
Q. That is, travel between the planets of different stars?
A. That's right
Q. And have you reached any conclusions as to the possibility of such a thing?
A. Oh, yes. Not just conclusions. I have definite evidence that one foreign power is in direct contact with creatures living on the planet of another star, and expects to receive a visit from them shortly.
Q. Will you tell us the name of that foreign power?
A. Russia.
Oh, it went very well. Pandemonium became widespread: much noise, much hammering by Senator Schnell, and at the recess all the networks said big Neilsen. And Mr. Hagsworth was so pleased that he hardly asked me about the file again, which I enjoyed as it was a hard answer to give. 'Good theatre, ah, Mr. Smith,' he winked.
I only smiled.
• • • •
The afternoon also was splendidly hot, especially as Senator Schnell kept coming beside me and the bulbs flashed. It was excellent, excellent
Q. (Mr, Hagsworth.) Mr. Smith, this morning you told us that a foreign power was in contact with a race of beings living on a planet of the star Aldebaran, is that right?
A. Yes.
Q. Can you describe that race for us? I mean the ones you have referred to as 'Aldebaranians'?
A. Certainly, although their own name for themselves is--is a word in their language which you might here render as Triops'. They average about eleven inches tall. They have two legs, like you. They have three eyes and they live in crystal cities under the water, although they are air-breathers.
Q. Why is that, Mr. Smith?
A. The surface of their planet is ravaged by enormous beasts against which they are defenceless.
Q. But they have powerful weapons ?
A. Oh, very powerful, Mr. Hagsworth.
And then it was time for me to take it out and show it to them, the Aldebaranian hand-weapon. It was small and soft and I must fire it with a bent pin, but it made a hole through three floors and the cement of the basement, and they were very interested. Oh, yes!
So I talked all that afternoon about the Aldebaranians, though what did they matter? Mr. Hagsworth did not ask me about other races, on which I could have said something of greater interest. Afterwards we went to my suite at the Mayflower Hotel and Mr. Hagsworth said with admiration: 'You handled yourself beautifully, Mr. Smith. When this is over I wonder if you would consider some sort of post here in Washington.'
'When this is over?'
'Oh,' he said, 'I've been around for some years, Mr. Smith. I've seen them come and I've seen them go. Every newspaper in the country is full of Aldebaranians tonight, but next year? They'll be shouting about something new.'
'They will not,' I said surely.
He shrugged. 'As you say,' he said agreeably, 'at any rate it's a great sensation now. Senator Schnell is tasting the headlines. He's up for re-election next year you know and just between the two of us, he was afraid he might be defeated.'
'Impossible, Mr. Hagsworth,' I said out of certain knowledge, but could not convey this to him. He thought I was only being polite. It did not matter.
'He'll be gratified to hear that,' said Mr. Hagsworth and he stood up and winked: he was a great human for winking. 'But think about what I said about a job, Mr. Smith.... Or would you care to tell me your real name?'
Why not? Sporting! 'Plinglot,' I said.
He said with a puzzled face, 'Plinglot? Plinglot? That's an odd name.'
I didn't say anything, why should I? 'But you're an odd man,' he sighed. 'I don't mind telling you that there are a lot of questions I'd like to ask. For instance, the file folder of correspondence between you and Senator Heffernan. I don't suppose you'd care to tell me how come no employee of the committee remembers anything about it, although the folder turned up in our files just as you said?'
Senator Heffernan was dead, that was why the correspondence had been with him. But I know tricks for awkward questions, you give only another question instead of answer. 'Don't you trust me, Mr. Hagsworth?'
He looked at me queerly and left without speaking. No matter. It was time, I had very much to do. 'No calls,' I told the switchboard person, 'and no visitors, I must rest.' Also there would be a guard Hagsworth had promised. I wondered if he would have made the same arrangement if I had not requested it, but that also did not matter.
I sat quickly in what looked, for usual purposes, like a large armchair, purple embroidery on the headrest. It was my spaceship, with cosmetic upholstery. Zz-z-z-zit, quick like that, that's all there was to it and I was there.
• • • •
2
Old days I could not have timed it so well, for the old one slept all the day, and worked, drinking, all the night. But now they kept capitalist hours.
'Good morning, gospodin,' cried the man in the black tunic, leaping up alertly as I opened the tall double doors. 'I trust you slept well.'
I had changed quickly into pyjamas and a bathrobe. Stretching, yawning, I grumbled in flawless Russian in a sleepy way: 'All right, all right.
What time is it?'
'Eight in the morning, Gospodin Arakelian. I shall order your breakfast'
'Have we time?'
'There is time, gospodin, especially as you have already shaved.'
I looked at him with more care, but he had a broad open Russian face, there was no trickery on it or suspicion. I drank some tea and changed into street clothing again, a smaller size as I was now smaller. The Hotel Metropole doorman was holding open the door of the black Zis, and we bumped over cobblestones to the white marble building with no name. Here in Moscow it was also hot, though only early morning.
This morning their expressions were all different in the dim, cool room. Worried. There were three of them: Blue eyes; Kvetchnikov, the tall one, with eyes so very blue; he looked at the wall and the ceiling, but not at me and, though sometimes he smiled, there was nothing behind it.
Red beard--Muzhnets. He tapped with a pencil softly, on thin sheets of paper.
And the old one. He sat like a squat, fat Buddha. His name was Tadjensevitch.
Yesterday they were reserved and suspicious, but they could not help themselves, they would have to do whatever I asked. There was no choice for them; they reported to the chief himself and how could they let such a thing as I had told them go untaken? No, they mu
st swallow bait But today there was worry on their faces.
The worry was not about me; they knew me. Or so they thought.
'Hello, hello, Arakelian,' said Blue Eyes to me, though his gaze examined the rug in front of my chair. 'Have you more to tell us today?'
I asked without alarm: 'What more could I have?'
'Oh,' said Blue-Eyed Kvetchnikov, looking at the old man, 'perhaps you can explain what happened in Washington last night.'
'In Washington?'
'In Washington, yes. A man appeared before one of the committees of their Senate. He spoke of the Aldebaratniki, and he spoke also of the Soviet Union. Arakelian, then, tell us how this is possible.'
The old man whispered softly: 'Show him the dispatch.'
Red Beard jumped. He stopped tapping on the thin paper and handed it to me. 'Read!' he ordered in a voice of danger, though I was not afraid. I read. It was a diplomatic telegram, from their embassy in Washington, and what it said was what every newspaper said--it was no diplomatic secret, it was headlines. One Robert P. Smith, a fictitious name, real identity unknown, had appeared before the Schnell Committee. He had told them of Soviet penetration of the stars. Considering limitations, excellent, it was an admirably accurate account.
I creased the paper and handed it back to Muzhnets. 'I have read it.'
Old One: 'You have nothing to say?'
'Only this.' I leaped up on two legs and pointed at him. 'I did not think you would bungle this! How dared you allow this information to become public?'
'How-'
'How did that weapon get out of your country?'
'Weap-'
'Is this Soviet efficiency?' I cried loudly. 'Is it proletarian discipline?'
Red-Beard Muzhnets intervened. 'Softly, comrade,' he cried. 'Please!
We must not lose tempers!'
I made a sound of disgust. I did it very well. 'I warned you,' I said, low, and made my face sad and stern. 'I told you that there was a danger that the bourgeois-capitalists would interfere. Why did you not listen? Why did you permit their spies to steal the weapon I gave you?'
Tadjensevitch whispered agedly: 'That weapon is still here.'
I cried: 'But this report-'
'There must be another weapon, Arakelian. And do you see? That means the Americans are also in contact with the Aldebaratniki.'
It was time for chagrin. I admitted: 'You are right.'
He sighed: 'Comrades, the Marshal will be here in a moment. Let us settle this.' I composed my face and looked at him. 'Arakelian, answer this question straight out. Do you know how this American could have got in touch with the Aldebaratniki now?'
'How could I, gospodin?'
'That,' he said thoughtfully, 'is not a straight answer but it is answer enough. How could you? You have not left the Metropole. And in any case the Marshal is now coming, I hear his guard.'
• • • •
We all stood up, very formal, it was a question of socialist discipline.
In came this man, the Marshal, who ruled two hundred million humans, smoking a cigarette in a paper holder, his small pig's eyes looking here and there and at me. Five very large men were with him, but they never said anything at all. He sat down grunting; it was not necessary for him to speak loud or to speak clearly, but it was necessary that those around him should hear anyhow. It was not deafness that caused Tadjensevitch to wear a hearing aid.
The old man jumped up. 'Comrade Party Secretary,' he said, not now whispering, no, 'this man is P.P. Arakelian.'
Grunt from the Marshal.
'Yes, Comrade Party Secretary, he has come to us with the suggestion that we sign a treaty with a race of creatures inhabiting a planet of the star Aldebaran. Our astronomers say they cannot dispute any part of his story. And the M.V.D. has assuredly verified his reliability in certain documents signed by the late--(cough)--Comrade Beria.' That too had not been easy and would have been less so if Beria had not been dead.
Grunt from the Marshal. Old Tadjensevitch looked expectantly at me.
'I beg your pardon?' I said.
Old Tadjensevitch said without patience: The Marshal asked about terms.'
'Oh,' I bowed, 'there are no terms. These are unworldly creatures, excellent comrade.' I thought to mention it as a joke, but none laughed.
'Unworldly, you see. They wish only to be friends--with you, with the Americans ... they do not know the difference; it is all in whom they first see.'
Grunt. 'Will they sign a treaty?' Tadjensevitch translated.
'Of course.'
Grunt. Translation. 'Have they enemies? There is talk in the American document of creatures that destroy them. We must know what enemies our new friends may have.'
'Only animals, excellent comrade. Like your wolves of Siberia, but huge, as the great blue whale.'
Grunt. Tadjensevitch said: 'The Marshal asks if you can guarantee that the creatures will come first to us.'
'No. I can only suggest. I cannot guarantee there will be no error.'
'But if-'
'If,' I cried loudly, 'if there is error, you have Red Army to correct it!'
They looked at me, strange. They did not expect that. But they did not understand.
I gave them no time. I said quickly: 'Now, excellency, one thing more.
I have a present for you.'
Grunt. I hastily said: 'I saved it, comrade. Excuse me. In my pocket.' I reached, most gently, those five men all looked at me now with much care.
For the first demonstration I had produced an Aldebaranian hand weapon, three inches long, capable of destroying a bull at five hundred yards, but now for this Russian I had more. 'See,' I said, and took it out to hand him, a small glittering thing, carved of a single solid diamond, an esthetic statue four inches long. Oh, I did not like to think of it wasted: But it was important that this man should be off guard, so I handed it to one of the tall silent men, who thumbed it over and then passed it on with a scowl to the Marshal. I was sorry, yes. It was a favourite thing, a clever carving that they had made in the water under Aldebaran's rays; it was almost greater than I could have made myself. No, I will not begrudge it them, it was greater; I could not have done so well!
Unfortunate that so great a race should have needed attention; unfortunate that I must now give this memento away; but I needed to make an effect and, yes, I did!
Oh, diamond is great to humans; the Marshal looked surprised, and grunted, and one of the silent, tall five reached in his pocket, and took out something that glittered on silken ribbon. He looped it around my neck.
'Hero of Soviet Labour,' he said, 'First Class--With emeralds. For you.'
'Thank you, Marshal,' I said.
Grunt. 'The Marshal,' said Tadjensevitch in a thin, thin voice, 'thanks you. Certain investigations must be made. He will see you again tomorrow morning.'
This was wrong, but I did not wish to make him right. I said again:
'Thank you.'
A grunt from the Marshal; he stopped and looked at me, and then he spoke loud so that, though he grunted, I understood. 'Tell,' he said, 'the Aldebaratniki, tell them they must come to us--if their ship should land in the wrong country...'
He stopped at the door and looked at me powerfully.
'I hope,' he said, That it will not,' and he left, and they escorted me back in the Zis sedan to the room at the Hotel Metropole.
• • • •
3
So that was that and z-z-z-z-zit, I was gone again, leaving an empty and heavily guarded room in the old hotel.
In Paris it was midday, I had spent a long time in Moscow. In Paris it was also hot and, as the grey-haired small man with the rosette of the Legion in his buttonhole escorted me along the Champs Elysees, slim-legged girls in bright short skirts smiled at us. No matter. I did not care one pin for all those bright slim girls.
But it was necessary to look, the man expected it of me, and he was the man I had chosen. In America I worked through a committee of their Senate, in Ru
ssia the Comrade Party Secretary; here my man was a M.
Duplessin, a small straw but the one to wreck a dromedary. He was a member of the Chamber of Deputies, elected as a Christian Socialist Radical Democrat, a party which stood between the Non-Clerical Catholic Workers' Movement on one side and the F.C.M., or Movement for Christian Brotherhood, on the other. His party had three deputies in the Chamber, and the other two hated each other. Thus M. Duplessin held the balance of power in his party, which held the balance of power in the Right Centrist Coalition, which held the balance through the entire Anti-Communist Democratic Front, which supported the Premier. Yes. M. Duplessin was the man I needed.
I had slipped a folder into the locked files of a Senate committee and forged credentials into the records of Russian's M.V.D., but both together were easier than the finding of this right man. But I had him now, and he was taking me to see certain persons who also knew his importance, persons who would do as he told them. 'Monsieur,' he said gravely, 'It lacks a small half-hour of the appointed time. Might one not enjoy an aperitif?'
'One might,' I said fluently, and permitted him to find us a table under the trees, for I knew that he was unsure of me; it was necessary to cause him to become sure.
'Ah,' said Duplessin, sighing and placed hat, cane and gloves on a filigree metal chair. He ordered drinks and when they came sipped slightly, looking away. 'My friend,' he said at last, 'Tell me of les aldebaragnards.
We French have traditions--liberty, equality, fraternity--we made Arabs into citizens of the Republic--always has France been mankind's spiritual home.
But, monsieur. Nevertheless. Three eyes?'
'They are really very nice,' I told him with great sincerity, though it was probably no longer true.
'Hum.'
'And,' I said, 'they know of love.'
'Ah,' he said mistily sighing again. 'Love. Tell me, monsieur. Tell me of love on Aldebaran.'
'They live on a planet,' I misstated somewhat. 'Aldebaran is the star itself. But I will tell you what you ask, M. Duplessin. It is thus: When a young Triop, for so they call themselves, comes of age, he swims far out into the wide sea, far from his crystal city out into the pellucid water where giant fan-tailed fish of rainbow colours swim endlessly above, tinting the pale sunlight that filters through the water and their scales. Tiny bright fish give off star-like flashes from patterned luminescent spots on their scales.'
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