by nightfall it looked like a concentrationcamp. TV portables and news photographer's flashbulbs didn't lessenthe confusion any, and the crowds were being let in and through onlywhen there was room for more.
Bill Howard was there when Randolph went through, in earnestconversation with a group of youngsters in one room. Oswald arrangedthat the Witch manufacturer should have a strong police escort, andthe crowds moved back to make way for him in each apartment.
The tenants answered his questions, but they did so with a sullennessthat surprised Randolph. Yes, it had been a mess the day before. Yes,it had been rebuilt, obviously, during the night, while they weregone. Yes, just the one night.
"They should be saying thank you," Randolph noted to Oswald. "They'reacting as though I were a suspicious character."
"It's our escort," Oswald explained suavely. "These people don't thinkof cops as their friends. Besides, this is pretty new to them."
Randolph chewed his lip, and decided that Oswald was probably right.But the attitude was general, and it irritated him. He left after thebriefest go-through.
* * * * *
That night Bill Howard was conservative in recounting the bignews-story of the "slum clearance." He wasn't giving it the realHoward try, Randolph thought, sitting in front of his TV. There was aquote in the story he told, too, from the father of the Jones familythat had been on the program the night before. "I reckon it's prettywonderful, Mr. Howard," Jones had told him. "But I don't rightly knowthat I like it. Must admit I'm scared of this stuff," he had said, andhe waved his hand at the newness.
It was just a single sour note in the story, but it stuck out. Therest was a description, without any mention of the "miracle" part.
At the break, the witches played the credit line to the hilt, though.
"Witches of the world unite to make it clean, clean, clean, Witchclean--NOW!" they chanted their cry, and reenacted the scene of thenight before, while the announcer's voice rode over the muted jingleto explain that Witch products had been used to make the slum clean,clean, Witch clean, even though it took carpenters and builders andcontractors to remodel a slum building itself. That's better, thoughtRandolph, watching. No more of this "miracle" nonsense.
It was barely 10:00 a.m. next morning when Randolph's phone rang.
"Randolph, here," he said, and heard Oswald's voice withoutpreliminary.
"They've gone."
"Who's gone?"
"The tenants of the building. Just picked up their duds and left. I'veput dicks on the case, and one family has moved in with relatives inthe Bronx. The others scattered, but we'll trace 'em. Here's one ofthe policemen that was on duty when they left. He'll tell you."
A new voice came on the phone, as Randolph chewed his lip.
"Mr. Randolph? This is what happened, near as I can figure. We ropedoff the area at dark, last night. Figured we'd give the families somerest, and keep out the night-thrill guys.
"Everybody in the apartments must have gotten together after wecleared out the crowds. It was pretty quiet, but the lights stayed ontill about 2:00 a.m. Then they all started parading out, some evenwearing their old clothes. They were carrying a few things, butnothing that looked like they hadn't had it before the change, so wefigured what they were taking was theirs, probably.
"Didn't say a word. Just paraded past us. Some of the kids was crying,but otherwise they were quiet."
"Then one man came running back to me, and he said 'Get out of here.It's the devil's work. Get away from this place if you're aGod-fearing man.' Then he turned and ran toward the subway with therest.
"I couldn't figure we had any orders to stop 'em, so we didn't try. Wejust watched."
Oswald came back on the phone.
"Can you keep it out of the papers?" Randolph asked.
"It's already on every newscast, and the papers'll have it bynoon--it's on the wires," Oswald said.
Randolph coughed nervously, but Oswald didn't wait for him to speak.
"I'm working on something to counteract this," he said. "We're beingwitch-hunted," Oswald said. "I'll get the whole firm to work on it andcall you back."
* * * * *
In Washington, meantime, another conference was going on, far moreintent, far more critical.
"It's more than just a pest plane that crashed in Formosa, Mr.President," the CIA Chief was saying. "It carried bacterial bombs, andthey exploded.
"There's been no attempt to hide its source. It's, of course, of enemymake. No identification on the bodies aboard, they're in civilianclothes. But again, the make is Moscow.
"It shouldn't be long before we know the worst."
"Will they clean this one up as they did the last one, or will theydemand surrender terms on this one?" the President asked.
The Secretary of State and the Secretary of War started to answertogether, but it was State that got the first word in.
"I think they'll clean this one up," he said. "It would be a directthreat on which they'll demand surrender terms. That's just a guess,of course.
"The best teams of doctors are being organized and jetted over. Thebest bacteriologists the nation has at its command. Every antibioticavailable is being sent."
"Will that make a dent?"
"No."
"How long can we keep it under wraps?"
"A week. Ten days, perhaps, with top security."
"Give it everything you've got. But keep it quiet until we know whatthe next move is. Twenty-four hour alert, of course, immediately."
"Even if the alert itself endangers the security wraps?"
"Yes. A week to ten days of security isn't enough to pay for taking achance the other way."
* * * * *
By 4:00 p.m. Oswald was on the phone to Randolph. "We've got theantidote," he said jubilantly.
Randolph was quiet for a minute, chewing his lip. Then: "I'm beingvilified in the press as the creator of a hoax that even those whostood to benefit by it couldn't take," he said. "The few who havedecided that a real miracle occurred have also decided that I'm inleague with the devil, and that witches are for burning. Mostly Witchis the butt of every joke that can be dreamed up by every cub reporterin the nation. Saxton has started laying the groundwork for makingWitch a political issue. There is talk of an FCC investigation."
"I trust," he said formally, "that your antidote is an efficient one."
Oswald's voice sounded smug, and not at all disgruntled. "Try this onfor size," he said. "First, Witch is known far and wide as nothingless could have made it known--"
"Yes, and if the churches ban the use of Witch, we'll wish weweren't."
"O.K., O.K. Tonight we explain carefully that the 'miracle' was amiracle of cleanliness, and that carpenters and contractors and allthat did the miracle. You know, American technology and massproduction in operation, something to be proud of. Tie Witch right into the whole picture of the United States as the leader ofmechanical--stress mechanical--miracles.
"Then--what's the most appealing thing in the world?" He didn't waitfor an answer. "A child. A small, crippled child, for whom Witch canprovide the funds to make her walk." Oswald hurried on, knowing thatRandolph had to go through a bit of lip chewing before he couldinterrupt, and taking advantage of the fact to ride over objections.
"We've got a kid that an expensive operation will save from being acripple. I've consulted two top surgeons already, and they say it'snearly positive.
"We don't do any hocus-pocus. We just say that Witch is going to payfor the operation. She leaves the broadcast and goes straight to thehospital. We get a movie of the operation, and we do movies on herconvalescence, and we play it for weeks until she walks on stagecured--weeks later."
Now Oswald waited. It was a long wait, an unusually long wait, evenfor Randolph. Finally, he said:
"All right. But if anything unusual occurs you will answer for it incourt."
"Nothing unusual could occur. I admit I sti
ll don't know what happenedlast time, but we'll find out.
"Meantime, we'll take a week to build this one up," Oswald continued."The buildup will stress that this is a cure being bought by money. Nomiracle, except the miracle of American medical know-how. No miraclesmeantime. Just keep Witch clean and stay well, and Witch buys theoperation the kid needs. She's pretty, too," he added as anafterthought. "Ten years old."
*
Prologue to an Analogue Page 4
