"Yes," said Courane wearily. That was how he learned of his first crime against the state. He went back to his room to pack, and to think about his new future as a novelist. He still wanted to be on the good side of TECT; he was deeply sorry that it was disappointed with him and his basketball playing. He promised himself that he would become a good and respected writer. He would copy the styles and techniques of the best science fiction writers in the business, whoever they were. His college friends in Pilessio never learned what happened to him. He went home to Greusching that day and left for New York the next. He got right down to work shortly after his arrival in North America.
Weeks passed and Space Spy slowly grew toward completion. In the process, Courane discovered satire, pathos, dramatic tension, plotting, the handling of dialogue, the development of characters, and other important tools of a working writer. He knew that these things existed, but he was not yet skillful in their application. Still, he did the best he could. That was all that anyone could ask of him, he believed. He was wrong again.
SPACE SPY
Chapter Sixteen: Home Again
Steve Wenrope stood on the jagged rocks and stared out across the landscape of the barren asteroid. It was bleak. The dull gray plain was drab. The dead black angular hills were lifeless. The sky, black and empty except for the silent spray of stars, it, too was bleak. Wenrope studied the scene silently, feeling bleak.
Finally, with a shrug, Wenrope turned away. The events of the last few days had drawn to their conclusion. Some of the people involved in the assignment were satisfied, others were disappointed. Two were dead. As for Wenrope, he had done what he had been hired to do. He had been paid. Still, there was an empty feeling inside him that he could not understand.
He began walking toward the protective dome of the Terran settlement. Beyond the nearby horizon, the perfectly round ball of the sun was edging into view. Wenrope darkened the faceplate of his pressure suit and carefully made his way down the treacherous rocks.
Later, inside the dome, Wenrope sat on a stool at the bar in Chellie's. With him was Suzy. She opened her purse. "Here," she said, laughing softly in that sensual way of hers, "this will get you off this Godforsaken asteroid."
He looked at the roll of bills in her hand, then up into her gorgeous eyes. His lip curled. "Keep it," he growled. He swallowed the last of the cheap liquor, stood up, and walked out of the bar. Outside, the interior of the dome was green and bleak. Wenrope was almost getting used to it.
**COURANE, Sandor:
On the first of September, 5 YT, space spy was put into production. It was distributed to the worldwide chain of commercial fichestores. The sales figures for the three weeks during which your novel was permitted to be on sale are as follows:
**COURANE, Sandor:
Print run: 250,000 copies (125,000 books, 125,000 fiche) Sales: 4,438 copies (249 books, 4,189 fiche) Returns: 245,562 copies
**COURANE, Sandor:
These statistics are not impressive. They lead us to believe that a future in professional writing may not be right for you. Do not despair! To do so may be considered Contempt of TECTWish.
**COURANE, Sandor:
You will travel to Tokyo, Asia, where an apartment with furnishings, an automobile, and clothing of local fashion will be provided for you. You will accept employment in the subassembly section of the Jennings Manufacturing Corporation. You will put together faceplates for voltmeters. This sort of occupation could easily be done by machines, but we have maintained the continuing existence of menial labor and drudgery as a pastime for the millions. Failure to comply with these directives will be considered Willful Contempt of TECTWish.
**COURANE, Sandor:
Understanding of the above to be indicated.
**COURANE, Sandor:
Affirm?**
"What do you think?" asked Courane angrily. He had already begun work on his second science fiction novel, Time Spy.
**COURANE, Sandor:
?**
"Affirm, affirm," said Courane.
**MOSSBAUER, Arthur:
Who are these people who most resent the authority of TECT in the name of the Representative?**
"I don't want to get anyone in trouble," Arthur typed.
**MOSSBAUER, Arthur:
You volunteered to supply this information. TECT in the name of the Representative indicated that it is interested in learning these names. Now, if you refuse to cooperate, you will be demonstrating the most flagrant Contempt of TECTWish witnessed anywhere in the known universe since the Slidell Rebellion. You know what happened to Slidell. Are you eager to have the same thing happen to you?**
"No. There's a man named Koenraad, Daan, who has a secret ambition to see TECT overthrown, but I think he got the idea in the first place from Courane, Sandor."
**MOSSBAUER, Arthur:
Yes, COURANE, Sandor. His file is most interesting. He is a clown, of course, and can accomplish nothing by himself. Yet the peril lies in the possibility that he might communicate threatening ideas to more competent rebels**
"Besides them there is a black man named Bell, Fletcher, and a white woman named Hriniak, Klára."
**MOSSBAUER, Arthur:
The unpleasant HRINIAK woman is no problem at all. TECT in the name of the Representative already knows exactly how to silence her. BELL, Fletcher, is another matter. He is the most dangerous colonist on Planet D. He is a reasoning man. He is also on Earth a popular poet. The combination may be disastrous**
"Fletcher? A thinking poet? He always struck me as more or less uneducated and wrapped up in himself. I don't think he's much of a problem."
**MOSSBAUER, Arthur:
You, too, are a clown. BELL, Fletcher, was responsible for a series of anti-TECT publications and a "People's Caucus" movement in North America. He portrayed himself as a persecuted poet and political thinker and is now considered a hero. Stories circulated about BELL, Fletcher, molesting preteenage boys and girls have had little success combating his martyr's image. Something even stronger will have to be tried. Perhaps if he murders a few people on Planet D, he may be returned to Earth shortly before his death to be discredited**
"Is that all you need from me?"
**MOSSBAUER, Arthur:
Yes. Come back tomorrow evening and TECT in the name of the Representative will give you further instructions**
"Arthur, you slimy—"
Arthur jumped in surprise. He turned around. Behind him were Courane, Molly, and Nneka. He didn't know how long they had been there, but evidently they had followed enough of the communication to be thoroughly shocked.
Molly was irate. "You're an evil man, Arthur. I never would have believed this of you if I hadn't seen it myself."
"Believed what?" he asked. "I haven't done anything."
"Arthur," said Courane in a disappointed voice.
"Let me explain."
"You don't need to," said Molly. "We read it all in green and white."
Arthur dabbed at his damp brow with the back of a hand. "You're all getting angry for nothing, believe me. I wasn't doing anything harmful."
"Nothing harmful!" cried Molly. "You were just informing on us to TECT! Who knows what that machine will do now?"
Arthur smiled weakly. "But you don't understand. There won't be any trouble."
"Why not?" asked Nneka.
"Because there is no TECT. There's no such thing as TECT." Molly looked at Courane. Arthur's explanation was just a little too astounding for them to respond to. It was an excuse they hadn't been prepared for.
"What do you mean?" said Nneka.
"Listen," said Arthur, "I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I'm crazy or I'm making up wild lies to get myself out of trouble."
"Or both," said Molly.
"But I know something you don't. You all believe in a gigantic computer, a monstrous connection of units all over Earth. There's supposed to be a huge installation on Malta, and on Java, and in the Azores and the Shetland Islands, and
at the Representatives' old hangout in the Virgin Islands. But there isn't. TECT doesn't exist, at least not the way we've been told to think of it."
"But what about all the information and—"
"The library exists," said Arthur. "All its references are indexed and a computer with a very big memory can give you all the information you want. That's no technical achievement. It's just the size of the memory that's impressive. But there's no computer that governs the world and makes vital decisions. There's no single mechanical mind that oversees everyone's life. There's no electronic guardian. That TECT is just a fantasy."
"Then what were you just talking to?" asked Nneka.
"Some person. A human being sitting at a terminal somewhere on Earth."
"A person?" said Courane dubiously. "You mean all of TECT's functions except its memory are handled by people typing back at us from Earth?"
"Yes," said Arthur. "There must be thousands of them, like telephone operators."
"Satan's first and greatest triumph in modern times," said Molly, "was persuading people that he didn't exist."
Courane was also skeptical. "Then who makes the real decisions? Who tells the operators how to act and what to say? Who sent us here?"
Arthur's expression fell. "I don't know that. The Representatives are gone, but they must have been replaced. The world is in the hands of some secret group and they want everyone to think TECT is running the show. I don't know who or why."
Courane sighed. "Arthur," he said, "you're crazy or you're stupid. There isn't the tiniest bit of truth in that. I'll bet you don't even believe it yourself. Where did you ever get that idea?"
Arthur laughed. "TECT told me," he said.
"Go to hell, Arthur," said Molly. "I don't feel good. We want to use the doc box."
"Sure," said Arthur. He made room at the console for Courane.
"This business isn't finished, Arthur," said Courane. Arthur only nodded sadly.
Courane was discouraged, but Alohilani was patient. They sat in the tect room, watching over Iola's body. TECT had not addressed them further in more than two hours. "We're going to be punished for this," said Courane.
"Don't be afraid," said Alohilani.
"I don't know how you can stand up to TECT like that."
Alohilani smiled gently. "At home I had some good, strong people to set an example for me. My father and mother, and some others who lived near us."
Courane shrugged. "They may have been unusual people, Lani, but I have to confess that I'm not."
"They weren't superhuman. They had weaknesses, too, and they fell, but they never stopped trying to go on. They never gave in to hopelessness."
Courane was heavy with the knowledge of his own frailty. "I give in sometimes," he said.
"Not completely. Yes, I know you have doubts. Everyone has doubts. But you can't let them beat you. When you give up completely, you die."
"I'm afraid almost all the time."
Alohilani nodded; she knew what he meant. "Courage isn't courage until it has faced fear. Perseverance doesn't mean anything unless it's tested by the temptation to quit, by the sense of failure."
"Failure," said Courane. His thoughts were somber. "When I look back at the past, I see a mob of mistakes. They add up to a perfect shape of failure, something that could be used as an official standard. When I look into the future, I can't see any security or happiness or prospects of success."
Alohilani took his hand. "Even with me on your side?" she asked.
"That's not fair," he said.
"I will lend you help whenever you need it," she said.
"Yes, I know you will, and Sheldon and Daan will, too. But few others will. TECT won't. No matter what I do or what happens to me, my life will be entirely pointless to everyone else."
"I love you," she said, as if it was some kind of answer. Courane knew that all her love could not keep him from failing again.
The next time Courane regained clarity of thought, he knew he was no longer in the desert. He had left behind even the border of yellow sun-baked mud. He had reached the hills at last.
They were old hills, ancient mountains eroded into low mounds that formed the western boundary of the river valley. The air was fresher and much cooler among the tree-clad hills. The breezes were softer and laden with moisture. The stinging sand was gone, the parching heat, and the hard stones beneath his blistered feet. He walked on a carpet of evergreen needles and autumn-brown leaves. He was glad to be out of the desert and his mood was almost triumphant, even though he had three or four more days to walk before he reached the house. But his goal was suddenly within reach. For a time in the desert, he began to believe that the hills were an illusion, receding infinitely toward the horizon.
He paused to rest near nightfall, laying the young woman's body gently down in the leaves. He read the note pinned to her and shook his head. He was very glad that the people in the house knew what to do with her because he certainly didn't. He didn't even remember who the people in the house were. He hoped that, in addition, they might know what to do with him. He had no plans at all about what he would do after he delivered her. Maybe he would be given another mission. If that were true, he thought, with any kind of luck he wouldn't need to go back into the desert. It had almost killed him this time around.
He fell asleep beneath a tree and dreamed vivid dreams of his mother and father, of Alohilani, and of a great black formless creature that hovered silently always just behind him. When Courane turned quickly around to see, the creature was always gone, but Courane felt its breath on his neck and heard its panting. The creature was named TECT.
Eight
**COURANE, Sandor.
You are taking a lot for granted**
"Maybe, but you told me yourself that there are these little things called viroids that are responsible—"
**COURANE, Sandor:
Yes, yes. Shut up and listen. Viroids are responsible for D syndrome and there is nothing you can do to remove them from the human nervous system once they have entered it. What you ought to do now is learn how they work, how they act on the human organism, and how to rectify the damage they do**
Courane was a little confused. "Didn't I try that already?" he asked. "When you refused to give us the drugs that improve memory?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
That is nothing like what you must do. Treating D fever symptomatically is as futile as treating a cerebral hemorrhage with aspirin. Enhancing memory is not the answer**
Courane thought for a long while. He tried to frame his questions in just the right way necessary if he was going to make anyfurther progress. It was like a gigantic puzzle all of whose pieces were the same color. "Either these viroids are making something the body can't tolerate or they're preventing the body from doing something vital. Which of these two possibilities is the closest to the truth?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
Excellent, COURANE, Sandor! TECT in the name of the Representative is amazed and gratified by how well you formed that question. You are taking great steps in your pursuit of this knowledge. Unfortunately you are ill- equipped to comprehend the answer**
"I didn't ask for that," he said. "Give me the answer."
**COURANE, Sandor:
Although TECT in the name of the Representative has succeeded in fastening the blame on the viroids, we are still unsure exactly how to describe their mechanism. This matter is still under investigation**
"So TECT doesn't know. How about the slow viruses that have been studied previously? How do they work?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
Their functions are similarly a mystery**
"Do they have anything in common? I mean, in the way they attack the host?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
There has been some speculation, but you probably wouldn’t be interested in that**
Courane slammed his fist on the console. "Let me hear it," he said.
**COURANE, Sandor:
It’s possible the
viroids interfere with utilization of a certain neurotransmitter; that is with a substance that enables signals to pass along the nerve conduits to the brains**
"What is this stuff?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
Acetylcholine. Now TECT in the name of the Representative knows what you're going to say. You're thinking that this is the same substance that was given to human volunteers and showed no effectiveness in improving their memory**
"That's right. What's the point?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
Other experiments have been done which give more hope. Acetylcholine's chemical precursor is choline. The primary source of choline is lecithin, which is found in meat, eggs, and fish. Lecithin has been shown to be even more efficient than pure choline in increasing the brain's production of the neurotransmitter and in suppressing harmful symptoms**
"You say lecithin can help to fight the viroids?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
TECT in the name of the Representative made no such claim. Lecithin will do nothing about the viroids. It will only stimulate the production of acetylcholine in the brain, which may help to minimize the pain and emotional distress of D syndrome. All of this is mere speculation, idle desires, wishing and dreaming almost completely unfounded on solid experimental data, yearnings and cravings and desperate fantasies spun only to alleviate the severity of your hopelessness**
A Thousand Deaths Page 14
