his headslowly.
"The ultimatum should come very soon now," the President said.
* * * * *
"It is the timing. I do not understand the timing." The big man in theKremlin was allowing himself an appearance of indecision that he didnot often indulge before underlings.
Of course, there was but the one underling, and any audience thatproved to have a later-embarrassing potential could be silenced withease. Still, it was unusual, and the lieutenant who served ascombination secretary and backstop for oratory quaked as he listened.
"The timing is all wrong, but the fact is a fact. It must be a fact,or every operative we have should be Siberianized.
"We must, of course, act. The action must be immediate. We are zeroedin...."
"No!" Vlada heard himself speak, and his whole body was outraged atthe action. He stood white, trembling. But he had spoken, and try ashe would, the word could not be pulled back.
"No? My little dove, and what would you suggest, then, if we are notto defend ourselves from this capitalistic aggression? That we shallsit with our hands folded and allow them to dictate the terms of oursurrender? Speak!"
"Send them a pest-sub, and see if they can handle the bacteria we havedeveloped!" Vlada's throat was dry, and his voice was not his own. Nopower on earth could have made him open his mouth, but he had openedit, and he fully expected the lightning to strike him at that moment.
"Send them ... ah, of course. They can cure their own, and they havetaken a so-dramatic method of saying that they can cure their own. Butcan they cure the products of our laboratories? Now that, we shallsee.
"But we shall be as subtle--more subtle, even, than were ourcapitalistic friends. We shall not send our sub to them. We shall sendit to a small island, and we shall see whether they wish to taste thedeath, the strangulation and crippling and suffering, the destructionof sanity that shall be the lot of those islanders...."
* * * * *
In Peiping the distress was no less acute--but the reaction wassomewhat different.
The scientist being grilled had no hope left. He could answerhonestly, for there was nothing that could save him from that whichwas in store.
"The strain was virulent. There is no known antidote--nothing couldhave saved that port, nor most of Africa and most of India--and therewas no way for the world to know from whence came the death-dealingsubmarine except that it be the mighty America.
"The bombs should have come in retaliation, spreading their death andadding to the impetus of the epidemic, so that enough of the world waswiped out to give the great People of the Dragon room into which toexpand. We calculated that a third of our own would be wiped out inthe holocaust, which would have relieved us of many problems. The tanpeoples of India and the darker peoples of Africa should have sued usto lead them in a unity of the yellow peoples, against the insanitiesof the pale peoples of the west.
"There is no antidote ... yet the epidemic is destroyed. I cannot yetbelieve what is told me. I would go to my ancestors happily if I couldgo to them with the answer to this riddle."
* * * * *
That night Bill Howard came on the screen his big homely face wreathedin smiles, his tweed suit and shaggy blond hair looking even moreinformal than usual.
"It's a great day for the people of the world," he said.
"There's undoubtedly tremendous political significance in whathappened at Suez, and every statesman and every politician will havestatements to make, and conclusions to draw.
"Suez's obvious healthiness has been variously attributed to Americantechnology, garnered from the experts we've sent them over the years;to Russian technology, garnered from their experts loaned to thenation involved; to Mohammed and to the God of the Christians.
"The peoples of the world," he said softly, "are concerned with thesethings in the abstract, but mostly, we the people are willing to leavethis to the theorists, while we rejoice."
"For we the people, who thought we faced that most degrading, thatmost unanswerable, that most horrible fate of all, bacteriologicalwar, find ourselves at bacteriological peace."
At the break, the thirteen witches danced on, crying their chant, andbehind them as a background was the bright, clean sub-and-shantyscene.
"Witches of the world unite, to make it clean, clean, clean, Witchclean--NOW!" they chanted. "Pestilence or peril, disease or disaster,Stay clean, clean, clean, Witch clean!"
"Ah," said the deep voice of the announcer as the jingle muted, "Whichwitch do you really wish? Witch is the modern method of cleanliness,using the best of modern technology, and the Witch witch is witchingthrough the world...."
Randolph watched the program skeptically. The best lawyers and thebest p.r. agents to be had, he reminded himself. Still.... There was anagging worry that this thing was going too far. It's O.K. to claimthe moon, he thought, chewing his lip, but isn't it a little risky toclaim peace on earth for the Witch products?
He made a mental note to call BDD&O the next morning. The audiencereaction would make itself felt by then, and he could decide....
* * * * *
It was almost noon next day before Randolph reminded himself of thecall he'd planned to make to BDD&O. He got Oswald on the wire almostimmediately.
"Randolph, here," he said. "I called about that new commercial. Itseems a little drastic to claim peace on earth for the Witch products.What are you planning for tonight?"
"More of the same!" Oswald's voice was jubilant. "The switchboard hasbeen swamped, and we're on almost every program on every channel!They're taking us apart, of course. 'Witchcraft raises its head,' and'Salem is here with a new twist and a singing commercial,' and'Anybody got a pestilence?'--that sort of thing. But they're creditingWitch products from dawn to dawn. I sure didn't make a mistake when Itied our contract to your sales! We ought to break the bank!"
Randolph chewed the thought in silence. "Oswald," he said, "It's anold habit of the American people to make a joke out of what they can'tunderstand. Sort of Paul Bunyan all over again. But don't overdo it.That Witches of the world unite, deal. Remember the IWW? Wasn't thatsort of communistic?"
"Every time anybody talks about getting the world peacefully together,about unity, somebody starts shouting 'commie.' Since when hascommunism and unity got anything to do with anything? You're aninternational corporation, aren't you? It's in your title, IWC, isn'tit? You don't just sell Witch things in the United States--you'vemarkets in Europe and Africa and India, and all over the place, or Iread the sales charts wrong. What's worrying you about using it?
"The overseas tapes are going like a cannonball express. Our ratingshave skyrocketed everywhere," Oswald said in satisfaction. "What doyou mean, don't overdo it? You get the world in a hatbasket, and thenyou want to throw it away?"
"Incidentally," he added in a calmer tone, "I got one crank callthat's got me thinking. The guy got all the way through to me beforehe'd talk, and that takes some getting, what with the salaries I paypeople to keep the cranks off my neck.
"He said that now we had the witches of the world united, why didn'twe do some real cleanup work, like slums and insane asylums. Got methinking, you know. A good cause never did a program any harm."
Randolph chewed his lip a while in silence, and Oswald, knowing hisclient, waited patiently.
"I like that a lot better than claiming peace on earth for the Witchproducts," Randolph said at last. "Why don't you pick a slum we canclean up for not too much, and let's see what you can work out. Thiscleanup theme isn't bad, it's just peace on earth that doesn't reallybelong to us you know.
"I tell you what. We'll go to fifty thousand dollars or so on acleanup job, and you use that. Leave the world to the politicians andthe eggheads."
After he hung up, Randolph stood by the telephone, still chewing hislip. Could you clean up something like a slum for say fifty thousanddollars? Oswald would double the figure in his own
mind, of course,always did. But he'd get the sales out of it. His contract was tied tosales.
Yes, he thought, it was best to call him off the track he was on now.Lawyers or no lawyers, that sort of thing was dangerous.
It took a week, and it took every member of the staff that could bepulled off other programs, as well as the ones assigned to Witch.
The "slum" had been located--three buildings in a short block just upfrom the Battery, surrounded by new buildings. It was aone-privy-to-a-floor, cold-water only setup, with a family living inevery room. It existed on high-value land only because the land andbuildings were tied up in an estate
Prologue to an Analogue Page 2
