Modus Vivendi

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Modus Vivendi Page 7

by John Berryman

I said. "That's how, Elmer. And if that doesn't trouble you,how about this?" I gave him a sample of what TK means when it'sclamped on the mitral valve. A heart attack is no joking matter, andjust before he hit the deck I eased off.

  "Now," I said, "will you do what I tell you, or do I have to kill yououtright?"

  He sank down to his knees, resting his palms on the carpet so recentlyvacant of illusory snake. "Yo' got me convinced, suh," he admitted."No mo', you hear?"

  "Any more protests?" I said. I got none. "Here's what we have to do,"I went on, and spelled it out for them. At last they were ready to go,three shaken young people. "I repeat--absolute secrecy--none of you isa telepath, so only your lips can give you away if you keep yourthoughts screened around TP's. Later that may change--the Lodge ispreparing to come a little more into the open with Psis."

  My whole membership nodded and left me. I was shaking from head tofoot.

  * * * * *

  We had things to do in the forenoon, and I didn't try to see His HonorJudge Vito Passarelli until after lunch. But the docket was crowded,and there was no chance until after court had adjourned, which waswell on toward four o'clock. His Honor was hanging his robes on aclothes-tree as I came into his Chambers, and he nodded me politely toa chair, just as if our last words hadn't been pretty heated.

  "Mary Hall?" he asked, fumbling around to find his in-Chambersglasses. He's too vain to wear them on the bench.

  I nodded an answer to his question as he came back to take a creakyhorse-hair swivel, relic of more judges and years than I like to thinkabout. "I'm here as her counsel," I said.

  "What else?" he asked mildly, taking the lid off a big humidor on hisdesk and starting to fill a pipe.

  "We'd like you to know that Mary has joined an organization thatshould do for her all that the social workers would like to see donefor her. She's no longer a behavior problem for Normal society."

  "Quite some organization," he said, showing interest. "What one?"

  "It has no formal name," I said. "Being a secret organization. Inpoint of fact, it's an organization of Psis that is revealing itselffor the first time."

  "Odd that I never heard of it," Passarelli said, looking at hisfingernails. He puffed smoke around the stem of his pipe. His coolnessbothered me. He should have been much more excited about what I wassaying. I threw my high hard one.

  "This organization exercises a formidable discipline over itsmembers," I went on. "One of its firm rules is that no Psi may use hispowers to the detriment of a Normal."

  He chuckled softly. "You're taking advantage of what I told youyesterday, Maragon," he said calmly. "You know, and I know, that Psishave never done any such thing. And if they had, why would they pickyou to run their errands? What Psi would ever trust a Normal?"

  It was getting sticky. I was skating perilously close to thebrink--once I revealed to a Normal that I had the Stigma, my days asan attorney were done. "This organization--I'll call it the Lodge, ifI may--has to have an attorney to represent it in Court. And you knowas well as I do they can't hire a Psi attorney--the Bar Associationhas taken care of that. They came to me because...."

  "Yes, yes," he interrupted, taking his eyes off his nails, and showingsome real interest at last. "If you only knew how much I want tobelieve you, Maragon. But I will never believe that Psis would permitthemselves to be represented by a Normal. Too bad, but the socialworkers, and not your mythical Lodge, will get Mary Hall. That or aFederal Grand Jury."

  Well, this was the fork in the road, I had been kidding myself, andnow I knew it. Persist in my masquerade as a Normal, and I'd never getMary off the hook. But reveal myself as a Psi, and I was through as anattorney. It really wasn't much of a decision--I had made it when Irevealed myself to Keys, Mary and Elmer.

  I looked at the humidor of tobacco on his desk. Without changingexpression, I aimed a lift at it. The container came up smoothly fromthe polished walnut and hovered in the air before us.

  Passarelli looked at it blandly. I don't think anything in my life hasever been a greater shock than his unconcern. He should have droppedhis teeth. Slowly I let the lift break, and lowered the humidor to hisdesk.

  "Fairly good TK, if that's all you're capable of," Passarelli said."Or can you do better, Maragon?"

  "You slimy Normal!" I exploded. "You _tricked_ me into exposingmyself!"

  "What am I, an idiot?" he snapped. "I had to know."

  I stood up. "Until now, I never really hated Normals," I began.

  "Oh, sit down, for Heaven's sake," he said testily. "Now don't getemotional and lose all your perspective. Doesn't it occur to you thatthere's been just too much coincidence in this whole thing?"

  I think the word for it is "collapsed." I fell back into my chair."You'll have to spell it out," I said.

  * * * * *

  Passarelli leaned forward, his face concentrated, almost angry. "Youhave the Stigma, you admit it?"

  "Of course I admit it."

  "You think any other attorney is a Psi?"

  "No. I certainly do not. It's only a miracle that I ever got throughthe screening and made it."

  "And yet you, the only attorney with the Stigma, gets tapped to bePublic Defender for a Stigma case--Keys Crescas. Doesn't this strikeyou as more than coincidence can account for?"

  "Now it does," I admitted. "Are you trying to tell me...."

  "I'm telling you I've been suspicious of you for a long time, Pete,"Passarelli said. "Perhaps you didn't know it, but I was one of theyoung attorneys on the Committee from the Bar Association that checkedyour heredity. No, you were born in San Francisco. No, your parentsdidn't live in the Logan Ring--their home was in Sausalito. But--theday that neutron bomb was accidentally fired and started the rash ofPsi mutations in the ring outside the fatal area centering on Logan,your parents were in a jet airliner. I found that out--and kept mymouth shut. I never told the rest of the Committee that on the 19th ofApril in '75 that jet was over Iowa, en route to San Francisco, andpossibly close enough to Logan for its passengers to have beenaffected by the neutron spray. Even then I knew the law was paintingitself into a corner with its attitude toward Psi. I hoped. I hopedyou _did_ have the Stigma, and I've waited my time to force you intothe open."

  "Stinking Normal!"

  "Stop acting like a child. I said I _hoped_!"

  "Hoped?"

  "Yes. I meant what I said about wishing there were a responsibleorganization of Psis we could turn to. Are you serious about thisorganization, this Lodge?"

  "I guess I am," I said, shaken.

  "How many members does it have?"

  "It's a secret organization," I protested.

  "How many members?"

  "Four, including me."

  He shrugged. "You start somewhere. Mostly with a man you can trust,and I trust you, Maragon. You can keep this girl in line?"

  "Our discipline is formidable," I reminded him, trying a grin. It waspretty sick.

  "I'll bet," he grinned back. "Well, it had better be, for I'm going totake a chance on you. Sooner or later the law will have to admit theexistence of Psi. I know as well as you Stigma cases that this gene isdominant--that there'll be more Psis every generation. We've got tofind some common ground between the two societies--some way to getalong. Give me your personal surety in this Mary Hall thing. As anattorney, you're an officer of the Court, and I guess I have theright to make her your responsibility. I certainly don't want itgetting out that I'm playing footsie with an organization ofPsis--this is an elective office, after all."

  "After all," I agreed. "But I am glad to hear you sounding like apolitician again."

  "We'll have to keep our dealings off the record," Passarelli insisted."But if I thought I could call on you when we get one of these stickyPsi cases before the Courts...."

  You'd recruit for the Lodge, I thought to myself. "You've got yourselfa deal, Your Honor!" I said fervently.

  "Call it a _modus vivendi_," he smiled. "Now my big prob
lem is to finda way to eat my words, and let the 99th National Bank acceptrestitution of what Mary Hall stole from them."

  "No sweat," I grinned, beginning to feel better. "It's already beendone."

  "Done? How could it be? I told the bank not to...."

  "You told them," I conceded. "But they had no choice, Your Honor. MaryHall went to the

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