beexchanged.
"I have decided to accept your last proposal. I specify the meetingplace as the deserted weather station at the old settlement of Tharvianain the Byrd-Ellsworth Sector of Antarctica. Date to be Seventhday ofFried Pie Week. Advance cadres of personnel from both sides should meetat the site two weeks earlier to make repairs and preparations. Do youagree?"
Ivan nodded impatiently, his dark eyes watching the President closely.Smith went on to suggest limits for the size of both cadres, theirequipment, and the kind of transportation. Ivan made only onesuggestion: that the details, such as permissible arms and standards ofconduct, be left to the cadre commanders to settle between themselvesbefore the leaders' parties arrived.
"Your continual espionage activities," Smith said coldly, "do notrecommend your government as one to be trusted in the matter ofagreements without guarantees. My cadre commander will be instructed asto details."
The Asian grunted. "You speak of trust, yet violate it in advance bypreparing an assault against us."
They glared at each other. After a few more words, the conversationended abruptly, and the matter was tentatively settled.
* * * * *
It was Antarctic Summer. The sun lay low in the north, but cloudsthreatened to obscure it, and a forbidding coastline hulked under theugly sky. A small group of ships sulked to the east, and watched anothergroup that sulked to the west. Two rows of buoys marked an ice-freestrip across the choppy face of the sea.
A speck appeared in the north, grew larger, became a giant sea-plane. Itcircled once, then swooped majestically down between the rows of buoys,its atomic-fired jets breathing heat over the water. It slid betweenstreamers of spray until slowly it came to a coasting halt and rode onthe rise and the fall of the sea. A section of its back rolled open. Itpushed a helicopter up into view. The helicopter unfolded its rotors,spun them, then climbed lazily aloft like a beetle that had ridden theeagle. It soared, and travelled inland. The sea-plane taxied west tojoin one group of ships.
The helicopter landed near a long, windowless concrete building whichlay in the shadow of an old control-tower's skeleton. The tower wastwisted awry, and the concrete was pock-marked by shrapnel or bulletsdating back to one of the peace-efforts. The President, two Stand-ins,and the pilot climbed from the helicopter. A small detachment of troopspresented arms. The cadre commander, a major general, approached thedelegation formally, gave it a salute, and took the President's hand.
"The Peoplesfriend is already in the conference hall, Sir, with severalof his aides. Do you wish to enter now, or--"
"Where are their troops?"
"Over there, Sir. As you know, we could not agree to completely disarmthe site. Only inside the building itself."
"Any unpleasantness?"
"No, sir. Their men are well-disciplined."
"Then let's go and get started. I assume that you're in constant contactwith the capitol?"
"Yes, Sir. Televiewphone relay chain all the way up."
John looked around. The Peoplesfriend's helicopter was parked not faraway, and beyond it stood a platoon of the Peoplesfriend's troops,lightly armed as his own.
An Asian and a Western guard flanked the entrance to the building, buttheir only weapons were police-clubs. The party entered slowly and stoodfor a moment just inside the heavy door that swung closed behind them.John Smith removed his mask.
"Greetings, human."
* * * * *
The dull voice called it from the far end of the gloomy hall where IvanIvanovitch IX sat facing him, flanked by a pair of aides, at a long,plain table. John Smith XVI advanced with dignity toward him. Curt bowswere exchanged, but no handshakes. The Western delegation took theirseats.
John nudged the Stand-in on his right, who immediately opened aportfolio to extract a sheaf of papers.
"Would you care to exchange prepared statements to begin with?" Smithasked coolly.
"We have no--" The Peoplesfriend stopped, smirked coldly at his deputiesbut continued to frown. He peered thoughtfully at his huge knuckles fora moment, then nodded slowly. "A statement--_yes_."
John slid a section of the sheaf of papers to the Peoplesfriend. The Redleader ignored them, spoke to a deputy curtly.
"Give me a sheet of paper."
The deputy fumbled in a thin briefcase, shook his head and muttered.Finally he found a dog-eared sheet with only a few lines typed acrossthe top. He glanced questioningly at his leader. Ivan snatched it with alow grunt, tore off the good half, produced a stubby, gnawed pencil, andwrote slowly as if his hands were cramped with arthritis. John could seethe big block-letters but not the words.
"My prepared statement," said the Peoplesfriend.
With that he pushed the scrap of paper across the table. John stared,and felt the blood leaving his face. The prepared statement said:
_I VETO YOU._
"Is this a joke?" he growled, keeping his voice calm. "You cannot meanthat you reject proposals before they are made? I fail to see the humorin--"
"There is no humor."
John pushed back his chair, glanced at his men. "Gentlemen, it wouldappear that we have come to the bottom of the world for nothing. I thinkwe had better retire to discuss--"
"Sit down," the Asian growled.
"Why--" The President stopped. One of the Red deputies had produced agun. He sat, and stared coldly at the eastern leader. "Have your mandispose of that weapon. This is a conference table."
The Peoplesfriend grunted an order to the other deputy instead. "Searchthem."
"Stay back," Smith droned. "I can kill you all quite easily."
The deputy hesitated. The leader started laughing, then checked it. "MayI ask how?"
John smiled. "Stay back, or you will find out too quickly." He unzippedhis heavy Arctic clothing, removed a heavy container, shaped to conformto his chest, and laid it on the table. A cord ran from the containerinto his sleeve.
The Peoplesfriend laughed. "High explosives? You would not set them off.However--Jacob, let them keep their weapons. This will be over shortly."
They glared at each other for a moment.
"There is no conference?"
"There is no conference."
"Then why this farce?"
The eastern leader wore a tight smile. He glanced at his watch, begancounting backwards: "Seven, six, five, four--"
When he reached zero, there was a long pause; then a sharp whistle fromoutside.
"Your men are now disarmed," said the Asian. "Your cadre commander isours."
"Impossible! The recheck--"
"He joined us since the recheck. Further, three of your televiewphonestations in the relay chain are ours, and are relaying recordedbroadcasts prepared especially for the purpose."
"I don't believe it!"
* * * * *
The Asian shrugged. "In addition, your entire defense system will be inour hands within six days--while your nation imagines that we are hereconferring on disarmament."
"Ridiculous!" the President sputtered. "No system of infiltration orsubversion could--"
"Your people were not subverted, Smith. They were merely replaced byours. Your two Stand-ins, for instance, the ones that died in the fire.They were not the original men."
"You could not possibly find exact doubles--" Something about theAsian's smile made his voice taper off.
He picked up the container of explosives and prepared to rise. "I amgoing to walk out. And you are going with me. We will return in ahelicopter to my plane. Let me explain this mechanism. I have no controlover the detonator, for it is not a suicide device. The detonator can betriggered only by either of two events."
"Which are?" The Peoplesfriend was smiling.
"The relay would be closed by a sudden drop in my arterial pressure. Orby an attempt to remove it without knowing how. I am going out, and youare going with me."
"Why?"
"Because I am about to reach in my po
cket and produce a gun. Your deputycannot shoot without blasting a fifty-foot crater where this buildingnow rests." Gingerly, while he watched the wavering deputy, he made goodthe promise. He kept the snub-nosed automatic aimed at the easterner'sbelly.
But the Peoplesfriend continued to smile. "May I say something before we_go_?"
There was a sour mockery about it that made Smith pause. He noddedslowly.
"I hoped to keep you here alive, so that we would not have to destroythe whole mission, including the ships. Of course, when the building isblown up, your little fleet will see and hear and try to respond, and weshall have to destroy it before word can be gotten to your capital. Ourplans included that possibility, but it is unfortunate."
"Our aircraft will--"
"You do not seem to realize the nature of our weapons yet. And there isno harm in telling you now, I suppose."
"Well?"
"We have a microscopic crystalline relay, so small that millions of themcan be packed into a few cubic inches. The crystals are minutetetrahedrons, with each pointed corner an electrical contact. And thereis a method for arranging them in circuits without individual attentionto each connection. It involves certain techniques in electro-platingand the growing of crystals."
Smith glanced questioningly at one of his Stand-ins, a weapons expert.The man shook his head.
"I can see," he muttered, "how it might replace a lot of bulky circuitelements in some electronics work--particularly computers andservo-mechanisms--but--"
"Indeed," said Ivan, "We have built many so-called 'thinking-machines'no larger than a human brain."
"For self-piloting weapons, I suppose?" asked the Stand-in.
"For self-piloting weapons."
"I fail to see how this could do what you seem to think."
The Peoplesfriend snorted. "Jacob--?" He nodded to the deputy, whoimmediately fumbled in his pocket, found a penknife, opened it, andhanded it to Ivan.
He laid his finger on the table. He cut it off at the second joint withthe penknife. There was no blood. Flesh of soft plastic. Tendons ofnylon. Bones of bakelite.
"Our leader," the robot said, "is still in Singapore."
The President looked at the robot and a great, weariness swept over him.Suddenly it all seemed futile--a senseless game, played by madmen,dancing over countless graves--playing tag among the tombstones.
Check and checkmate. But always there was a way out. Never a final move.Life eternal and with life, the eternal plotting and scheming. And nevera final victor.
Almost regretfully, the President turned his mind back to the affair athand.
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