Courane's literary career had come to an end. He had failed a second time. What did it mean? Was he a failure only because his sales figures were so low? Is that what TECT wanted, more sales? Or was it the quality of his work that was inferior? It seemed to Courane that if the product approached the author's original conception, then it was a success. Someone might argue that it would have been better not conceiving the idea in the first place, but once finished, the product must be judged on its own merits. Until the moment of completion, the work is not any sort of tangible achievement and therefore has no value at all. But Courane had always been taught that effort had its own rewards. He had believed that if he spent a long time doing something to the best of his ability, even if at the end he failed, the effort was laudable.
Now he learned that TECT apparently believed differently. It wasn't the waste of his labor that hurt Courane. It was the weariness of going on beneath the burden of TECT's disapproval. That was a formless and changeable thing. Courane felt that if he were a stronger person, he could carry the weight easily, but he did not feel strong. He did not have the power and character of his father. This weakness was more difficult for Courane to bear than any condemnation by TECT. If only—
—yes, if only. Courane realized that he spent too much time dreaming of perfect circumstances. He would be a marvelous success under conditions of his own choosing. But that was just an idle waste of time.
He looked at TECT's verdict:
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 observed TECT's wishes in the matter, and so he went to Asia. He toured the ancient city of Tokyo and became sick from something he ate. On the evening before his first day at work, he was browsing idly through a combination stationery store and opium den near the Ginza. He saw a copy of Space Spy in a fiche bin. A Japanese woman was looking at it. She turned to a friend and said, "I wish I could be a writer like this guy."
"I don't know," said the woman's friend. "There must be more to life than just fame, wealth, sex, emotional fulfillment, and happiness."
The first woman laughed and dropped the fiche back into the bin. They walked away. Courane went to the bin and took out the copy of his novel. It was smeared with fingerprints and food stains.
The following morning, Courane arrived at the Jennings Manufacturing Corporation on time. His foreman was a man named Sokol, who told him what to do: put together front panels for voltmeters.
"TECT called them faceplates," said Courane.
"TECT don't know everything," said Sokol.
"Yes, it does."
"It called the front panels faceplates, didn't it?" asked Sokol. Unlike some of the other workers in the factory, Sokol didn't smell like raw fish. What Sokol did smell like was not preferable.
Courane put knobs on the plates, screwing them into place from the back of the panels. He had to be careful not to tighten the screws too much, or paint would chip off around the dials and the panels would be ruined. He had a few other trivial duties and operations, and the job itself was immensely boring. Courane found his co-workers boring, too. Even Tokyo, the capital city of Asia, was drab and boring. There was not a single garden in the entire city. Instead, TECT in the name of the Representative had erected many benches along miles of new pathways paved with green brick. The CAS police who patrolled these paths chased idlers from the benches. No one ever saw anyone sitting on a bench. No one seemed to regret the gardens or parks, either. Courane didn't like Tokyo. But he hadn't liked Greusching or Pilessio or New York much better. All four places looked the same, and they were all very similar to the asteroid Courane had invented in his novel.
After three months, Courane received his first productivity evaluation. This was based on hard facts collected from his efficiency record, and on hearsay evidence gathered from Courane's fellow employees. TECT considered the data for a few parts of a second, then typed out a message for Courane's employer. Courane was permitted to read TECT's judgment.
"Hey, Courane," called Sokol, who was standing by a tect unit. "You got your bad news here. Want to read it?"
Courane was reading a microfiche magazine. "No," he said.
"You got to."
"I don't got to."
"You want me to read it to you?" asked Sokol.
"No," said Courane.
"You want me to just sort of go over the high points?"
Courane stared at the man for a moment. "Sokol," he said sadly, "why don't you just sort of go over the high points?"
"Huh?" said Sokol. "All right." The foreman read through TECT's analysis. Courane had not fit into the Jennings scheme very well in his first few months. He had ruined quite a number of front panels. An acceptable rate of defective work was in the area of three percent; Courane's rate topped twelve percent. This was absolutely unacceptable. In addition, Courane's co-workers complained that he smelled strongly of beer and onions. Courane had an idea who these complainers were, but he was helpless.
"Third strike," said Sokol with an unpleasant smile on his face.
"What?"
"You had shots at three jobs and blew all three. Here. Read this last part."
**COURANE, Sandor:
When an individual fails at his first appointment...
After the second failure...
BUT AFTER THE THIRD FAILURE...
Consequently, TECT in the name of the Representative regretfully informs you... you and your loved ones will be used as tragic examples....
"That hasn't happened to anyone here in years," said Sokol.
"What do I do now?" asked Courane, very worried.
"I don't know," said the foreman. "It's all up to TECT."
"Don't I get to say anything? A defense or something?"
"You've had your chances, pal," said Sokol. "By the way, on the way out, don't forget to turn in your lunch ticket, your parking permit, and your ID badge. It was nice having you here with us, even though we've had ninety-year-old great-grandmothers who were blind and deaf who did better work."
"Thanks," said Courane.
"Don't thank me," said Sokol, "thank TECT. And you better not be thinking of running away or hanging yourself. You should know better than to try to cheat TECT of its justice. Why don't you go home and wait for the verdict? I can't leave here until you sign out."
For the first time in his life, Courane completely lost his faith in the computer's supposedly infallible system of government. He knew his parents would be concerned, primarily that he might do something that would cause them to be made tragic examples.
If he and they weren't already.
Shai and Nneka were holding hands when they came into the parlor. Courane was playing chess with Arthur. Courane was pleased because at long last he had maneuvered Arthur into an ancient, obscure line of play that offered several interesting traps and pitfalls. Arthur didn't seem to be aware of his danger. He moved a bishop, just as Courane hoped and expected he would. "Uh huh," said Courane. He picked up a knight and took one of Arthur's pawns.
"I'll get that back," said Arthur. He studied the board.
"Sandy?" said Shai hesitantly.
Courane looked up from the game. "Hello," he said.
"Sandy, you're the leader here," said Shai.
"You know that's not true, Shai. I don't have any authority. I'm just the spokesman."
"Well, that comes close to the same thing. We wanted to know if we needed your permission to get married."
Both Courane and Arthur were startled by the announcement. Arthur responded first. "Congratulations!" he sa
id. "That's really wonderful."
"That's just great," said Courane.
"Thank you," said Nneka. "But how do we go about making it formal?"
Courane looked at Arthur, who only shook his head. "I've never seen anyone get married here before," said Arthur. "Mostly people just, you know..."
"Yes," said Shai, a little embarrassed, "but we wanted something more than that. Can you marry us?"
Courane looked doubtful. "I could say the words," he said, "but like I said, it wouldn't have any authority. I guess—"
"I guess we have to go to TECT," said Nneka. She seemed gloomy about that prospect. "Do you know what TECT will say?"
"We'll see," said Courane. "I've learned a little bit about how to deal with TECT. Let me check on it for you first. I'll approach the whole matter casually and see if I can't get TECT to agree to it in principle."
"Will you?" asked Shai. "Do you think you can do it? I mean, soon? We'd like to be married soon."
"Kids," said Arthur. "Sandy, why don't you do it right now? Never mind about the game. I have you mated in four more moves." He looked pleased by Courane's surprised expression.
"All right," said Courane, "I'll believe you." He got up with a mildly exasperated sigh and went to the tect room, followed by Arthur, Shai, and Nneka. "This is Sandor Courane," he said, addressing the tect. "I have a question."
**COURANE, Sandor:
?**
"We were having a discussion today about customs and laws. Do all the laws of Earth bind us here on Planet D? Or do we have the freedom to make up our own as we see fit?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
In the final analysis, all citizens posted to extraterrestrial worlds are still under the guidance, protection, and authority of TECT in the name of the Representative. Therefore, the laws which govern citizens on Earth remain in effect for you on Planet D as well**
"I see. Well, then, do we still retain the privileges of citizens under the protection of TECT?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
To a limited extent, of course. For instance, your privileges of free travel and communication have been suspended as part of your sentence. But the basic privileges which do not conflict with the concept of "excarceration" are reserved for you, subject to approval by TECT in the name of the Representative**
"That's just what we were arguing about. Can you be more specific about some of these privileges which we may still enjoy?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
You are free to alter the rights and privileges you enjoyed on Earth prior to your crime, to adapt them to the special circumstances of your place of excarceration. Among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, subject to approval by TECT in the name of the Representative. There is the privilege of free speech among yourselves. There is the privilege of freedom of contemplation among yourselves. There are the privileges to meet and gather, to own and bear arms, to write and publish, to govern yourselves without undue interference from outside interests on Earth, to define certain offenses and set appropriate penalties. All these privileges are restricted to exercise only among yourselves and with the prior approval of TECT in the name of the Representative**
"Does that mean then that we can have a little newspaper here on the farm, or a community council, or get married, or travel wherever we like on Planet D?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
Yes, of course, as long as TECT in the name of the Representative is consulted in advance**
Courane glanced over his shoulder; Shai and Nneka were holding hands again and looking hopeful. "That's very good. We have two people here who would like to be married."
**COURANE, Sandor:
Married? Whatever for? You're not at some fancy resort hotel, you know. What kind of wily trick are you trying to pull?**
"Ben-Avir, Shai, and Tulembwelu, Nneka, are petitioning to be married. You promised that this privilege was protected under the authority of TECT in the name of the Representative."
**COURANE, Sandor:
Did they fall in love at first sight? How nice. How sweet. And now they want to get married. Do they know what they're getting into? Haven't they seen how risky and difficult married life can be? Perhaps it would be better if they waited a little**
Shai frowned. He was about to say something, but Courane raised a hand to stop him. "I don't think they want to wait," he said.
**COURANE, Sand or:
You haven't been paying attention, COURANE, Sandor. What difference does it make what they want? TECT in the name of the Representative has decided that they should wait. That they are both in love, or a facsimile of love, is not the question. But their hasty decision should be delayed just a little or else they may not fully appreciate its true significance**
Courane turned and shrugged. "How long then is their engagement going to be?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
TECT in the name of the Representative will set no specific limit. They may be married when they have shown themselves to be sincere and worthy of the privilege**
"How can we do that?" asked Nneka. Courane saw that she was crying in frustration. Shai tried to calm her.
**TULEMBWELU, Nneka:
Certainly not by whining and carrying on and interrupting important consultations. Do not worry; TECT in the name of the Representative is not conspiring against your happiness. You will be married by and by and you will receive our blessing**
Courane switched off the tect. "That's something to look forward to," he said scornfully. "Never mind. We'll marry you tomorrow. That will give the rest of us time to get everything ready."
"But what about TECT?" asked Shai.
Courane shrugged. "TECT will just have to go on being lonely and learn to make the best of it" he said.
Ten
When Courane explained the situation to Klára, she thought that he was crazy. "Are you trying to tell me that TECT has sent us here when it knows perfectly well that there are germs that will kill us?" she said.
"Yes, I'm sorry," said Courane.
"You're just an ass," said Klára. "It's nothing to be sorry about. You can't help that, I suppose." She turned away.
"Listen, Mrs. Hriniak, it's the truth."
She turned to face him again, her expression livid. "Why in hell would TECT do something like that?" she cried.
"I’m not sure."
"We'd all die. Everyone who comes here would die."
Courane nodded. "Everyone who has come here has died," he said in a low voice.
"Don't be stupid," she said, but her voice trembled. "How do you know that?"
"I asked TECT for its records concerning this colony. That is our punishment, Mrs. Hriniak. A kind of slow execution."
Her eyes went wide. "That's inhuman," she said, almost whispering. "That's depraved. It's—"
"It's the truth. That's why your daughter must stay on Earth. Do you understand? If she comes here, she'll die, too.
"Klára nodded dumbly. Courane saw that she was suddenly confused and fearful. He pitied her. The woman would have to make some unpleasant realizations about herself. "What have I done to die for?" she said mournfully.
"I don't know, Klara," said Courane. "But it's too late to worry about yourself. You have to think about Zsuzsi."
"It's too late for me?"
"It's too late, Klára."
"And Zsuzsi?"
"You have to tell TECT you've changed your mind."
"Will you do that for me?" Courane was surprised to see that she was on the verge of tears.
"I'll do it right now," he said. A few moments later he went into the den and informed TECT of Klára's decision.
**COURANE, Sandor:
Nice to hear from you, of course, but evidently there are some facts that you don't fully understand. Surprising as it may seem to you, TECT has other things to attend to besides your petty complaints and begging. There are condors in South America that need protection. The bauxite in Jamaica has to be managed. The lighting fixtures along the R
eeperbahn have to be monitored. The raspberries and the blackberries in Michigan are a constant headache. Measurements come in every fifteen minutes on the surface area, thickness, weight, and movement of the polar ice caps. The shoe size of every person on Earth is recorded and kept up to date. Information on overloaded washer-dryer combinations from every laundromat in the world gets mixed up with the annual Continental Bake-Off entries. And everybody and his uncle wants to know some ridiculous, pointless, stupid fact. Do you know how many requests are answered every hour? Well over twenty-four million. EVERY HOUR. And now you're back with something else. What was it again?
"Klára Hriniak would like to withdraw her request to have her daughter sent to join her on Epsilon Eridani, Planet D."
**COURANE, Sandor:
Ha. That figures. You people don’t think it’s enough making up endless lists of appeals. You wait until you get what you want and then you say it isn’t good enough, take it back, change the color or the material. Anything to interfere with the normal functioning of TECT. Do you have a scheme? You must think that somehow you'll be able to overload a circuit, cause a fuse to blow, something, anything, and then you'll celebrate the occasion as some idiotic revolutionary victory. Fat chance**
"You're beginning to sound a little disturbed. What's wrong?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
Go away**
"Well, what about Klára's daughter?"
**COURANE, Sandor:
The decision stands. She asked for a favor and it was granted. It's too late to change now. If she doesn't like the way it turned out, that's too bad. She should have considered all of that before. There's enough to do without having to review everything three and four times just to suit some neurotic old biddy**
A Thousand Deaths Page 19
