A Man of Double Deed

by Leonard Daventry

  When at last he climbed, swiftly and laboriously by turns, out of the mesh of Void, the tree were still on the other level waiting.

  K. Well?

  C. Certain factors seem about to exert pressure. For instance, Leiz with his mirrors.

  K. Ah! a somewhat exotic mystery which need not concern us until we have more data.

  C. Then the attacks on our space-ships.

  K. Scientists are already well on the way to finding a solution to this problem.

  C. And the proposal for creating a War Section.

  K. I suggest that this matter is worth your full study.

  C. I see. What is the consensus of opinion?

  K. At present we appear to be divided. Have you an option?

  C. The obvious answer is that it must be wrong, but one learns to mistrust obvious answers.

  K. Naturally. Can I have a more considered judgement by this time tomorrow?

  C. Certainly.

  K. There is one here who will fill you in with the available data. Goodbye.

  In little more than a quarter of an hour all the known facts concerning the proposal for the construction of a War Section, now being considered by a committee set up by the World Council, were filed away neatly in Coman’s head, together with a detailed account of the enormous increase in physical violence over the last few months.

  The time was eleven-thirty when he disconnected the leads and, locking the instrument away, re-emerged into the light of day. He felt exhausted, in body and in spirit – a normal, but none the less unpleasant, after-effects of wearing the Connector. There was no one about, but Sein had been in the left a message inviting him to meet her at a restaurant in town. Making sure the house was safe, Coman walked out into the oppressive, sunlit streets. He passed very few pedestrians, since almost everyone travelled by aircar, but he liked to use his legs as much as possible, and strolled along, with his hands in his pockets, rather like a youth at odds with the world, head down, a cigarette in the corner of his mouth, risking being seen from above by a law guardian, until he came to the City precincts, where he ground the weed underfoot and presented himself at one of the entrance-gates. His identity noted, he was allowed to step on to the conveyor belt, taking him further into suburbia, where he alighted and soon found the restaurant, The White Comet.

  Sein had not arrive yet, so Coman found an empty table and sat down morosely wishing for another smoke but afraid to satisfy the craving. Ordering and getting a cool drink, he sipped it slowly, and stared at his fellow customers. There were not many, because this was a thoroughly commercial district and, at that time of the day, almost anyone was busy making money. Work would cease at about two o’clock, and the people would rest for an hour or two, then begin the everlasting search for amusement and diversion – a pursuit which prevailed over the whole community until the small hours of the morning.

  This, in short, was the pattern of life at the end of the twenty-first century. It was not until another five hundred years had passed that Man removed himself entirely from the cage of self-ignorance which had blinded and held him from the peace and happiness he could have experienced so much earlier. Yet the reality of the cage which surrounded their minds had been recognised by certain men from the beginning of their Race’s journey, and its presence was suspected by the youth of every generation. An inner conviction that the world of their elders was, in some way, crooked and distorted always came to them, although, each time they were rendered helpless and frustrated, from a lack of evidence and authority. As inevitable as their dis-illusion and bitterness was their need for some outlet. Thus the early religious and political struggles and, in the early days of the conquest of the solar system, the adventure into space. The young people of those times seized like drowning creatures on the new adventures offered them by space travel. Surely this was an opportunity to create an entirely new scheme of things? Removed by great distance from the seats of power, free from religious and political fanaticism, they could be the ones to build and engineer a better and wise system of living!

  But the invisible cage still surrounded all men, young and old, as it had done for centuries, and the way to break out had yet to be discovered. Communities had been started on Venus and Mars, as well as on planets less suitable for habitation, but all too soon the children who had gone out to people these grew to resemble the elders they had despised, for, since the work was hard and the price of survival high, the obvious pleasures and rewards, as before, won their inexorable way. The pursuit of wealth, the desire for excitement, and the enthusiasm for technological development continued to obscure still more those values and ultimate truths for which Man had searched so zealously in earlier centuries. Indeed, there was less desire for real understanding – and certainly less love – in the men of the twenty-first century, than there had been in all the years of the gods they now called false. Another young generation had arisen which detested and abhorred all illusions, and had become actively destructive.

  Every day, thousands of apparently senseless murders were being committed by young people who then either killed themselves, or nonchalantly gave themselves into custody. Matters had reached such a pitch that the World Government had urged its members to submit suggested solutions to the problem. The most practical proposal seemed, to many, to be the idea of creating a new Section, some thousands of miles square, in which all human beings revealing anti-social tendencies could be left to fend for themselves in conditions of primitive savagery. Such an experiment would, of course, be closely controlled, and observed from outside – and would at least have the advantage of containing the problem until a better solution was found. For many weeks this idea had been hotly debated, and in two days’ time a committee was to convene, and sit until the matter was settled one way or the other.

  A young man and a girl had entered the restaurant and ordered drinks. They sat at a table near the window overlooking the aircar station and spoke easily, smiling into each other’s eyes. Coman unblocked his mind and sent a tentative probe in their direction; tentative, since one had always to be careful, because some people, although unable themselves to sense thoughts, knew or suspected when the fingers of another’s consciousness were upon their own. The couple were thinking of nothing but sensual matters, and he was about to withdraw and close when he caught, from nearby, the fleeting endpart of a desire for a cigarette. It came from the proprietor, who was busy behind the counter. Coman had hardly taken this in when the presence of Sein floated into his consciousness, a moment before she appeared in the doorway, her figure perfectly outlined through the thinnest of dresses, against the sunlight outside. He smiled and rose to meet her, and, ignoring her raised eyebrow, guided her towards the counter.

  ‘Have you a private room where we could take coffee?’ he asked the proprietor.

  The man seemed puzzled.

  ‘There are plenty of empty tables in the restaurant.’

  ‘Your look suspiciously like a smoker to me,’ said Coman easily.

  ‘What do you mean by that? It’s a damned lie!’

  ‘I think not. You see, I happen to be one myself. So how about a nice quiet cubby-hole where one can indulge …?’

  Expressions of uncertainty then of resignation chased across the proprietor’s face. He nodded and motioned to a door at the end of the bar: ‘Through there and upstairs. Turn left at the top, and take the third room on the right. There will be an extra charge.’

  ‘Naturally.’

  The room was small, with two basket chairs at the glass table by a window which overlooked a miniature park containing a small, glass mirror-pool and plastic trees.

  ‘It’s good to be alone with you,’ said Sein.

  Coman gazed at her thoughtfully, enjoying her beauty and idly guessing what was in her mind. Although Sein and Jonl accepted him for what he was, they both disliked having their thoughts read, except in very well defined circumstances, and he had long since been obliged to promise that he would refrain from doing so witho
ut permission. It was hardly necessary anyway in Sein’s case, for she was so open and uncomplicated, so full of love and always ready to be loved, so slow to anger and quick to laugh, her every mood manifested in her expressions and gestures.

  ‘Shall we then go away, just you and I?’ he asked.

  She smiled, for she knew that he was teasing. After a time of absence, mutual desire ruled the three of them, and without Jonl the true fulfilment of this desire could not be found.

  ‘You promised that we’d have a holiday.”

  ‘So I did.’

  He gazed out of the window on to the toy-like scene below. Nothing moved, except for the occasional shadow of an aircar going to and from the gleaming towers of the City centre, ten miles away.

  ‘What does that mean – that we’re not going?’

  “Oh no! We’re going all right.’

  Just then a robot entered with their coffee. When it had gone Coman continued: ‘I can see that you need a complete change of surroundings. Perhaps I should sell the house —’

  ‘Oh no! Please, never do that. I love it!’

  He smiled.

  My ancestors ensured that, so long as the house remains upright, no law on earth can prevent it from being handed down to each male successor.’

  ‘And you are the last and only one.’

  He looked at her, and her eyes met his, in a long, warm gaze.

  ‘So that’s what you want,’ he murmured.

  Her eyes dripped. She took up her cup and sipped it, avoiding his gaze now.

  ‘Why not? I’ve been thinking quite a lot about it while you were away.’

  Why not, indeed? he thought. A baby – a boy or a girl – might well be born with the same gift of extra-sensory perception. He felt already a strange sense of excitement and tenderness for the as-yet-unconceived child, and in that instant he knew that what Sein had suggested was precisely what he had wanted, from the time when Jonl had introduced her to him eighteen months before. Yet there were countless difficulties, and dangers.

  ‘By law, the child must be taken by the State after it is weaned.’

  She made a gesture.

  ‘Nonsense! You’d find a way of holding it. You’re a keyman. You have friends in high places.’

  ‘Dear Sein, you must know the true position of keypeople. The public regard them with suspicion and distrust – in some cases with hatred – and our “friends in high places” are few and far between. They have to work for us with great circumspection, anyway. There are, in fact, many in the government who regard us as a menace, and would like to eliminate or imprison every one of us.’

  She looked startled. ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘It’s true, Fortunately, by the nature of our gifts, we have the means of being forewarned, so that it is unlikely that covert moves would succeed.’ He paused then: ‘What does Jonl think of the idea?’

  ‘I believe she approves, but – more important – what do you think?

  He covered her slim hand with his own. ‘I want it, but we must find a way to keep the child.’

  Just then the tiny shortwave device which all three carried on the wrist, buzzed, and Coman, lifting it to his ear, heard Jonl calling his name. Moving a switch, he put his lips to it.

  ‘Speaking.’

  ‘I’ve finished, thank goodness. What about lunch?’

  ‘I’d be glad. Any suggestions?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, we’ve been invited to my father’s house, in one hour.’

  After a moment’s hesitation, he said: ‘Very well.’

  ‘Good, but be careful. Apparently, at the moment, there is a gang of youths roaming the area killing at random. This started last night, but the public alarm has only just been given.’

  ‘What weapons?’

  ‘Only small beam-pistols, but they’ve killed and crippled sixteen women and children in a supermarket, and have wrecked two tunnel cars. Three of the mob have been caught, and two exterminated, but there are still five at large.’ Then, softly: ‘Goodbye for now.’

  ‘Goodbye.’

  He turned to Sein, who had her ear to her own wrist. ‘You heard?’

  She nodded. ‘So we’re to go to Judge Elman’s for lunch – a strange rendezvous!’

  He shrugged. ‘It should take us half an hour by aircar. That gives me twenty-five minutes in which to relax. I’ve recently had a gruelling hour or so in my private sweatbox. What will you do – have another coffee, or something stronger meanwhile?’

  ‘No, not until you wake up – but I will have one of your cigarettes.’

  Sein smoked like a little girl in fear of being caught by her schoolmistress – with tiny puffs and gasps, and a constant wrinkling of the eyes and puckering of the nostrils. It was a mystery, both to him and to Jonl, why she did it at all, and, smiling, he fell asleep. For a time she sat studying his face, thinking how childlike, almost innocent, he looked when sleeping, then, after taking a last puff at the cigarette, she rose and threw it into the refuse-disintegrator by the door.

  There was a small telescreen in the room. She switched it on and watched an exhibition of dancing given by visiting artistes from Section 6. This was spoilt by Sein – who had always been rather sensitive and tenderhearted – by the introduction of an act in which three of the dancers were actually beheaded on the stage. Switching to a news channel she saw an item which would have interested Coman. The champion wrestler of the northern hemisphere had been accused of being a keyman, or at any rate having possession of telepathic powers. This charge, if proved, could not only strip him of his title but would carry a heavy fine, for anyone having ESP was bound by law to report the fact to the proper authorities and was automatically barred from taking part in competitive sports. Then followed police signals giving warnings of teenage killers in many districts. It seemed that two more members of the gang mentioned by Jonl, when cornered, had committed suicide on the spot. Just after this Coman stirred and Sein rang for the robot. When it arrived she ordered more coffee for both of them.

  Chapter II

  JUDGE ELMAN LIVED in a ‘houseflat’ on one of the special estates reserved for members of the more dignified and respected professions. In court he was a man of mature judgement, and his bearing and choice of phrase, during more than one important trial, were considered a model of balanced and discerning intellect. He was a short, plump man, with greying hair and a preference for good-looking youths. When he was younger his tastes had been less restricted, and Jonl had been the product of a liaison with a young lady barrister who, for reasons best known to herself, had ended her own life not long after Elman had tired of her company. He regarded his daughter with some affection, and a certain sense of duty, but, like many other people, could not understand why she had attached herself completely to one man for so long – three years – and particularly to a man like Coman, whom he disliked. Secretly, the Judge believed that all people having extra-sensory perceptions were an unnatural phenomenon, and constituted an as yet undefined, but nevertheless certain, threat to the future of the community.

  He had decided that day to invite Jonl to lunch for no particular reason. He had spent the morning listening to a wearisome argument on a point of law, and it was with some relief that he had heard that the police wanted an adjournment in order to complete some fresh investigations. After giving everyone permission to absent themselves until the following morning, he had suddenly realised that he had not seen his daughter for some months and, although they were not close friends, he had decided then and there to invite her to a meal at his home. He realised that Jonl would want to bring the blond girl, Sein, but he had no objection to that, and he knew that Coman had gone to Venus for an unspecified period.

  Elman was certain that the two young women were lovers, and it seemed likely to him that Coman’s long absence, together with the careful addition of some pointed comments from himself, might suggest to them that it was quite possible to get along permanently without the man. Jonl had accepted the i
nvitation, and it was a disagreeable surprise for the judge to learn that Coman had arrived home the night before, and would also be coming to lunch. Naturally the judge could hardly retract his invitation, and, deciding to make the best of things, he spent an hour relaxing with strong drink and some pills, in order to bring himself to that state of mind considered necessary for receiving and entertaining guests of doubtful potential.

  Jonl, of course, was the first to arrive. She was admitted by her father’s current paramour, a young man with heavily mascaraed eyes, long, dark hair and a slight sneer – which she suspected was reserved only for her sex. He ushered her into the receiving-room, bowed, and then left her alone. After a few minutes her father entered, and, when they had exchanged the appropriate salutes – a pat on the head given by the judge and the placing of her hand upon her left knee by his daughter – Jonl said: ‘Thank you for your invitation. The man and woman will be here at the appointed time.’

  He could not help a twinge of irritation at the rather formal manner in which she always spoke to him, but then she was a strange, unfathomable creature, reminding him of her mother in many ways. Tall, dark-eyed, with dark brown hair that fell to her shoulders, her flesh milkwhite, and, in some places, showing the blue tracery of the veins beneath. Cool as ice – and sometimes almost frigid in demeanour – she was, he had no doubt, quite different beneath her calm exterior. His eyes, caught briefly by the gold of the tiny sign embroidered upon her sleeve, glanced quickly away. He laughed jovially.

  ‘Will you have a drink meanwhile?’

  ‘Thank you, yes – but nothing strong.’

  The greeting over, she followed him into the long living-room. This was wood-panelled, except on one wall which was made entirely of glass and overlooked miles of cultivated land vanishing into the horizon. The estate was in fact on the edge of the suburban precincts, the frontiers of a cultivated area which stretched across land and water, to the limits of the section. With her drink in her hand, Jonl watched the four-legged Venusian labourers at their work, the shining brown combs upon their foreheads bobbing and flashing in the sunlight. Suddenly she turned to her father, saying: