President studied the border of the teleview screen for amoment.
"I shall have to consider your proposal," he said dully.
The Peoplesfriend nodded curtly, then suggested a time for the nextinterview. Smith revised it ahead to gain more time, and agreement wasreached. The screen went blank; the interview was at an end. TheSixteenth Smith took a slow, worried breath, then slowly donned the maskof office again. He summoned the nine Primaries immediately.
"That was dangerous, John," one of them warned him as they entered. "Youmay regret it. They knew you were in here alone. We're not all identicalfrom the neck-down you know. When we come out, they might compare--"
He cut the man off with a curt gesture. "No time. We're in a badsituation. Maybe worse than I guess." He began pacing the floor andstaring down at the metallifiber rug as he spoke. "He knows more aboutus than he should. It took me awhile to realize that he's speaking ourlatest language variations. A language changes idiom in forty years, andslang. He's got the latest phrases. 'Greetings, human' is one, like arabbleman says when somebody softens up."
"Spies?"
"Maybe a whole network. I don't see how they could get them through theWall, but--maybe it's not so hard. Antarctic's open, as he pointed out."
"What can we do about it, John?"
Smith stopped pacing, popped his knuckles hard, stared at them."Assemble Congress. Security-probe. It's the only answer. Let the'Rabble's Parliament' run their own inquisition. They were always goodat purging themselves. Start a big spy-scare, and keep it in thechannels. I'll lead with a message to the rabble." He paused, thetragedy mask gaping at them. "You won't like this, but I'm having theStand-ins probed too. The Presidency is not immune."
A muttering of indignation. Some of them went white. No one protestedhowever.
"No witch-hunt in this group, however," he assured them. "I'll vetoanything that looks unfair for the Primaries, but--" He paused and rangthe word again. "--_but_--there will be no leniency tolerated from hereon down. If Congress thinks it's found a spy, it can execute him on thespot--and I won't lift a finger. This has got to be rooted out andburned."
He began to pace again. He began barking crisp orders for specificdetails of the probe, or rather, for the campaign that would start theprobe. The rabble were better at witch-hunts than a government was.Congress had not been assembled for fifteen years, since there had beennothing suspicious to investigate, but once it was called to duty, headswould roll--some of them literally. If some innocent people were hurt,the rabble could only blame themselves, for their own enthusiasm inruthlessly searching out the underground enemy. Smith couldn't worryabout that. If an Asian spy-system were operating in the continent, ithad to be crushed quickly.
* * * * *
When he had outlined the propaganda and string-pulling plans for them,he turned to the other matter--the Red leader's boast of ability toconquer the West.
"It's probably foolish talk, but we don't know their present psychology.Double production on our most impressive weapons. Give theartificial-satellite program all the money it wants, and get them movingon it. I want a missile-launching site in space before the end of theyear. Pay particular attention to depopulation weapons for use againstindustrial areas. We may have to strike in a hurry. We've beenfools--coasting this way, feeling secure behind the Wall."
"You're _not_ contemplating another peace-effort, John?" gasped anelderly Stand-in.
"I'm contemplating survival!" the leader snapped. "I don't know thatwe're in serious danger, but if it takes a peace-effort to make sure,then we'll start one. So fast it'll knock out their industry before theyknow we've hit them." He stood frozen for a moment, the mask liftedproudly erect. "By Ike, I love the West! And it's not going to sufferany creeping eruption while I'm at its head!"
When the President had finished and was ready to leave, the othersstarted donning their masks again.
"Just a minute," he grunted. "Number Six."
One of the men, about the President's size and build, looked up quickly."Yes, John?"
"Your cloak is stained at the left shoulder. Grease?"
Six inspected it curiously, then nodded. "I was inspecting a machineshop, and--"
"Never mind. Trade cloaks with me."
"Why, if--" Six stopped. His face lost color. "But the others--mighthave--"
"Precisely."
Six unclasped it slowly and handed it to the Sixteenth Smith, acceptingthe President's in return. His face was set in rigid lines, but he madeno further protest.
Masked and prepared, a Stand-in whistled a tune to the door, which hadchanged its combination since the last time. The tumblers clicked, andthey walked out into a large auditorium containing two hundred SecondaryStand-ins, all wearing the official mask.
If a Secondary ever wanted to assassinate the President, one shot wouldgive him a single chance in ten as they filed through the door.
"Mill about!" bellowed a Sergeant-at-Arms, and the two hundred beganwandering among themselves in the big room, a queer porridge, stirredclumsily but violently. The Primaries and the President lost themselvesin the throng. For ten minutes the room milled and circulated.
"Unmask!" bellowed the crier.
The two hundred and ten promptly removed their helmets and placed themon the floor. The President was unmasked and unknown--unmarked except bya certain physical peculiarity that could be checked only by aphysician, in case the authenticity of the presidential person waschallenged, as it frequently was.
Then the Secondaries went out to lose themselves in a larger throng ofTertiaries, and the group split randomly to take the various undergroundhighways to their homes.
The President entered his house in the suburbs of Dia City, hugged thechildren, and kissed his wife.
John Smith was profoundly disturbed. During the years of the BigSilence, a feeling of uneasy security had evolved. The Federation hadbeen in isolation too long, and the East had become a mysteriousunknown. The Presidency had oscillated between suspicious unease andsmug confidence, depending perhaps upon the personality of theparticular president more than anything else. The mysteriousness of thefoe had been used politically to good advantage by every presidentselected to office, and the Sixteenth Smith had intended to so use it.But now he vaguely regretted it.
* * * * *
The tenure of office was still four years, and he could not help feelingthat if he had maintained the intercontinental silence, he would nothave had to worry about the spy-matter. If the hemisphere had beeninfiltrated, the subversive work had not begun yesterday. It hadprobably been going on for years, during several administrations, andthe plans of the East, if any, would perhaps not come to a climax forseveral more years. He felt himself in the position of a man whosuffered no pain as yet, but learned that he had an incurable disease.Why did he have to find out?
But now that the danger was apparent, he had to go ahead and fight itinstead of allowing it to pass on to the next John Smith.
He made a stirring speech to Congress when it convened. The cowledfigures of the people's representatives sat like gloomy gray shadows inthe tiers of seats around the great amphitheatre under the night sky;the symbolic torches threw fluttering black shadows among their ranks.The sight always made him shiver. Their cowls and robes had beenaffected during the last great peace-effort, at which time they had beenimpregnated with lead to protect against bomb-radiation, but the garb ofoffice had endured for ceremonial reasons.
There was still a Senate and a House, the former acting chiefly as aninvestigating body, the latter serving a legislative function inaccordance with the rabble-code, which no longer applied to theExecutive, being chiefly concerned with matters of rabble morals andpolice-functions. Its duties could mostly be handled by mail andteleviewphone voting, so that it seldom convened in the physical sense.
President John quoted freely from the Declaration of Independence, theGettysburg Address, the MacArthur Speech to Congress, and the immortalw
ords of the first John Smith in his _Shall We Submit?_ which began: "Ifthy brother the son of thy mother, or thy son, or daughters, or thywife, or thy friend whom thou lovest, would persuade thee secretly,saying, 'Let us go and serve strange gods', neither let thy eyes sparehim nor conceal him, but thou shalt presently put him to death!"
The speech was televised to the rabble, and for that matter, one of theStand-ins delivered the actual address to protect the President who waspresent on the platform among the ranks of Primaries and Secondaries,although not even these officials were aware of it. The address washonestly an emotional one, not bothering with any attempt at logicalanalysis. None was needed. Congress was
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