“Excellence,” he murmured, soft-voiced, inclining his head. “You do me great honour.”
“Glad to know you, Mr. Barnet,” Peter said genially, shaking hands. “This is my first secretary, Miss Holmes....”
The sculptor inclined his head to the girl and then drew up chairs. This done he looked at Peter in polite curiosity, perhaps making a mental assessment of the Ancient who was now the figurehead of the world.
“I’m here on a rather delicate mission,” Peter said, clearing his throat. “It concerns—Ijax.”
“Yes?” Barnet’s grey eyebrows rose and he waited.
“You are a follower of Ijax, of course?”
“Who amongst us is not?” the sculptor asked, smiling—and he nodded to a small Ijax idol on the window ledge. “Yes, indeed, I follow him, and do my part in the Task.”
“I understand that you built the Temples of Ijax,” Peter proceeded. “Did you also model Ijax himself?”
“I designed the Temples, certainly, and then I modelled the original Ijax from which all the others in the world, including the tiny miniatures we all carry, were copied.”
“I see.” Peter looked the man full in the eyes. “From whom did you receive your order?”
Hesitation came in the sculptor’s manner. He pressed a hand to his forehead for a moment and then shrugged.
“To be perfectly frank. Excellence, I don’t know! It was, shall I say, more intuition than anything else. About five years ago I suddenly realized with a great clear thought that I must design a Temple, and that thousands more all over the world must be made to the same design. It was so strong an urge that I put the matter before Mark Lanning, the First Scientist, and he agreed with me wholeheartedly. It seems that he had a similar conviction that such a thing was necessary. He arranged the labour for the building and so forth. Then when this was done the idea for the idol came to me also and was put into effect in just the same way. As for actual orders, in so many hard and fast words, there never were any.”
Peter glanced at the girl.
“It just came from—nowhere?” she herself questioned.
“Since you put it that way, Miss Holmes—yes,” Barnet agreed. “I’m sorry I can’t be more explicit, but then the great charm of Ijax is his mystery, is it not?”
“Not to me, Mr. Barnet,” Peter said grimly, getting to his feet. “You see, I don’t believe in Ijax!”
The sculptor looked as though he had listened to blasphemy, and it was a look that never left his face as Peter murmured a farewell and departed with the girl beside him. As she flew the plane back to the city and the abode of Swanson, the radio engineer, Peter sat huddled in thought.
“Have you any suspicions, Peter?” Alza asked presently, her hands on the controls. “Do you think Barnet is lying?”
“No. He’s not that type of man. In fact I’d place him as one of the finest examples of a creative artist I’ve ever met. For that reason, Alza, he must have a highly sensitive brain, receptive no doubt to hypnotic power even more than most of this day and age. He didn’t receive an intuition, as he seems to think, but was mentally ordered to build Temples and then model Ijax. That’s my guess, and I’ll bet it’s right.”
“And Mark Lanning agreed with the idea,” she said slowly, frowning. “That’s puzzling. I can’t understand his willingness.”
“I can when I consider the brain of Lanning. It’s every bit as sensitive as that of Barnet. If Barnet could succumb to this hypnotism, I’ll lay evens that Lanning probably could also.”
“All of which doesn’t get us any nearer the core of the mystery,” Alza pointed out. “Who is behind it all? And,” she added, her voice slowing, “there’s another troublesome point which keeps bothering me. Thought impulses, in the light of modern science, have only a very small radius. I think three feet from the sender is about the limit. You were less than that from the amplifier, which is why you managed to hypnotize me. But it seems as if our unknown master-hypnotist managed it over a distance!”
“True,” Peter muttered. “I’m glad you brought that problem up. In my day scientific research limited the range of a thought impulse to less than two feet. The distance has slightly increased in the present day. Which bears out what I said about brains being more sensitive....” He sighed. “Don’t quite know where we are going, Alza. Have to piece it together as best we can.”
He became silent again, and the girl presently sent the machine downward towards an area south of the city. She landed finally in an open parking ground before a massive edifice which, she explained, was the Research Building and Swanson’s place of work.
As with Barnet, it was Peter’s official insignia that gained instant admission for them both. A commissionaire showed them both into a quiet anteroom, and presently Swanson came in to them—a short, middle-aged man, with quick energy in his movements.
The preliminaries over, Peter came straight to the point.
“It has come to my knowledge, Mr. Swanson, that certain electrical equipment has been placed in the Ijax idol in the Temple on the Twenty-Third Intersection. Presumably, similar equipment is in most, if not all, of the Ijax idols in the world. The particular equipment I am referring to has your die-stamp registration. Can you explain it?”
“I was ordered to do it, Excellence,” Swanson responded.
“By whom?” And though he expected the usual vague answer, Peter got a surprise.
“It was Mr. Lanning who gave me the orders, after the Temples had been built and the idols placed inside them.”
“Can you recall what he said exactly?” Peter asked.
“He gave me some blueprints which he had designed, and told me to manufacture three thousand instruments to their specification. Since I am one of the leading radio engineers in Metropolita, I felt quite flattered at his confidence in me, even though I did not understand the purpose of the instruments. I had them made and then turned them over to Mr. Lanning. I presume he then attended to the distribution.”
Peter betrayed none of his inner excitement by his expression.
“You say you didn’t understand the purpose of the instruments? Are you sure of that? Surely as a radio engineer you must have had some sort of idea....”
“Well,” Swanson said, reflecting, “I’d say off hand that they absorb very slight vibrations and then amplify them.”
“Which coincides with my own view,” Peter remarked. “Did you know these instruments were intended for the idols?”
“I didn’t know, Excellence; I drew my own conclusions. Three thousand instruments—three thousand idols.” He shrugged.
“Do you believe in Ijax?” Peter asked slowly. “In the Task?”
Swanson gave an enigmatic smile. “Not entirely, no, because I am aware of the material medium by which Ijax speaks to the people. But I am one man alone, Excellence, in possession of a secret concerning the idols—a secret which I have only admitted to you because of your high position. You must concede that it would not pay me to express open disbelief in Ijax—who am I among so many?”
“I see your point,” Peter agreed. “However, you can speak quite freely to me, because I don’t believe in Ijax either, and because I am making it my business to find out exactly what is going on.”
“I think,” Swanson said deliberately, “I know exactly what is going on, Excellence. In my opinion....”
He broke off as the door opened and a tall, gaunt figure came into the room,
“Lanning!” Peter exclaimed, surprised.
“Your pardon, Excellence,” the scientist said impassively. “I came to inform Swanson that he cannot delay any longer. A vital experiment is in abeyance while he talks with you....”
“It can wait,” Peter said briefly. “Go on, Swanson.”
The engineer hesitated, looking from Peter to Lanning. The scientist’s thin lips tightened and he jerked his dark head significantly. Swanson gave Peter a helpless look and then left the room.
“Just what the devil do you mea
n by this, Lanning?” Peter demanded, getting to his feet. “Have I no authority?”
“In this particular building, Excellence, none at all,” Lanning replied, with perfect courtesy. “I am in charge here. It is the building where the science of the Western Federation is pursued, and the work upon which Swanson is engaged cannot be left for a single moment without entailing danger.”
Peter clenched his fists as the pale, impersonal eyes studied him.
“I think you’re lying, Lanning, and that’s straight! You came in here to break things up before Swanson could talk too much!”
“You are entitled to your opinion, Excellence,” Lanning said, shrugging. “But I think you will recall that I have repeatedly warned you against inquiring into matters outside your province. You have not heeded that warning. You see, I am aware of all you have done—of your looking inside the idol, taking the instrument from within it, looking up the history of moondust, calling on Halsen Barnet. The instrument of course, has already been replaced. Believe me. Metropolita is alive with the power of science when it comes to watching the movements of any man...or woman,” and the cold gaze strayed to the uneasy Alza as she sat waiting.
“I told you I liked to find things out for myself!” Peter snapped. “As the figurehead I consider it my duty.”
“How much have you found out?” the scientist asked dryly. “Am I not right in assuming that you have only heaped mystery upon mystery and found no solution whatever?”
“I have at least found one! I know that hypnotism is at the back of everything—and the Task in particular.”
Lanning raised his eyebrows. “So? Hypnotism? Over a distance, I suppose, ignoring the fact that thought impulses are limited to a range of three feet. How do you explain that?”
“I don’t yet—but I will, and if I find you mixed up in any of this monkey business Lanning, I’ll use all my authority to have you kicked out of your high position!”
“I would suggest,” Lanning said, “that you contemplate the pleasures of your own high office before attempting that! The mandate of the people has made you the figurehead, and because of that I dare not remove you and survive the anger of the masses. But if I feel that you are pressing this absurd investigation too far, I shall remove you and risk the consequences.”
Peter nodded. “All right; that’s my language. If it’s a fight you’re looking for, you’ll find an ancient man isn’t so antiquated as you think. Come on, Alza, let’s be on our way.”
Lanning opened the door and the girl fled past his tall, inscrutable figure with Peter behind her. Together they left the building and climbed back into the airplane. Peter sat scowling as the girl piloted the machine homewards.
“How the devil could he know our movements so accurately?” he demanded, scratching his head.
“He’s the First Scientist,” the girl reminded him. “He could do it with radio-television, or maybe radar, or perhaps by robots and invisible-eye scanners. He must have heard every word Swanson said, perhaps through a concealed microphone somewhere in the anteroom. Then he interrupted before things got too hot. By the way, what do you propose doing about Swanson?”
“I’ll send for him later and have him come to my suite. Lanning isn’t going to get away with this if I can help it!”
CHAPTER EIGHT
SHADOW OF A GENIUS
Peter knew it was one thing to talk and another to act, but now that he had got so far he wasn’t going to lie down and take things for granted, Lanning or no Lanning. When the girl and he got back to the suite in the Governing Building, he had the robots bring lunch for them both, and during it sat in profound thought. When lunch was over, his reflections began to take shape in words.
“Look, Alza, one or two things emerge. Pull me up if you see me go wrong.... We have it as a fact that Lanning knows the amplifier instruments are inside the idols, yet he himself believes in Ijax and the Task. Doesn’t that suggest that he fully believes in the Unknown who is transmitting this hypnotism?”
“I suppose it does,” Alza agreed, “unless he himself is that very person.”
“I don’t think he is,” Peter said, shaking his head. “Here is the reason: if he had some special job for everyone to do, he is in a position of authority high enough for him to ask the Governing Council to order it. He’d have no need of all that mumbo-jumbo. And secondly, Barnet got the idea for the Temples and idol, and then submitted them to Lanning who approved. If he were behind it all, Lanning wouldn’t need to use such roundabout methods.”
“But he—Lanning—thought out the amplifiers,” the girl pointed out
“I know, but I think he followed out the orders of the Unknown. No, I think Lanning is as much under the spell of hypnotism as anybody. In fact he seems to be Subject Number One, determined to preserve the secret at all costs.... Now, if it isn’t he it doesn’t seem likely that it can be anyone else on Earth, because otherwise that person would know by now that I have been poking my nose in, and I’d probably be pushing up daisies. Since I’m not, that seems to suggest the person we want isn’t on the Earth at all.”
“Then where?” Alza asked blankly.
Peter grinned. “Now I’m in up to the neck, Alza. just as I told you I would be sooner or later. But you weigh it up for yourself. Barnet said that the idea of building the Temple came to him suddenly about five years ago, and that the urge to model the idol of Ijax came shortly afterwards. In all, two years passed between the idea of the Temples striking Barnet and the first ‘call to arms’, so to speak, on the part of Ijax.”
“That’s right,” the girl agreed. “We’ve been listening to Ijax for just three years, and now I come to think of it, it was Lanning who issued the initial order for us to attend the Temples. There was a bit of trouble at first....”
“Five years is our basic point,” Peter said, tapping the table emphatically. “Now I’m going to take a leap. You told me yesterday that five years ago Anton Shaw, the greatest criminal scientist who ever walked the Earth, was exiled. It was after he went that certain people got notions and followed them out!”
“You can’t be thinking.... You don’t mean Anton Shaw is behind this?”
“Yes,” Peter answered simply. “I said at the time, before I had even pieced anything together, that exile was far too risky a punishment for a clever scientist. Where was he exiled? I’ll swear it was nowhere on Earth.”
“I’m not quite sure. As I told you, I wasn’t particularly interested at the time. He had been such a menace to society with his efforts to master the world by terror and science that nobody cared much what happened to him just so long as he was removed.... But the information may be in the filing rooms,” Alza broke off, rising quickly. “I’ll go and see.”
While she was gone Peter sat thinking, smiling tightly to himself at his own deductions—then he glanced up with a start as a radio instrument on the desk near the centre window flashed three times. He was not very conversant with the workings but he went over to it, and depressed an obvious looking green button.
“Hello? This is Peter—I mean his Excellence. Who’s that?”
“Swanson, Excellence,” a voice gasped back. “I’m in a fast flyer trying to reach you. Probably you can see me from the window of your suite....”
Peter glanced up sharply and fixed his eyes on a tiny machine distant against the blue of the summer sky. It grew even as he gazed at it.
“Excellence, I’m being watched!” Swanson’s voice was laboured with nervous excitement. “I think Lanning has instruments trained on me. I escaped from the Research Building. I have a lot of things to tell you about Ijax—things I’ve noticed and which I’ve remembered since seeing you. Excellence, the whole population of the world is striving to encompass its own doom and doesn’t realize it! I beg of you to—”
The voice stopped suddenly. Peter stared fixedly through the window. He saw the distant flyer heel over suddenly in mid-air, struck by something invisible—perhaps remote controlled radio power. Ove
r and over it went, spinning helplessly into the canyons— Down, down, until it was lost to his sight.
“The dirty, murdering swine!” he breathed.
“Why, Peter, whatever’s the matter?”
Alza had come in just in time to hear him. She advanced with a bulky file under her arm as Peter turned to look at her. Briefly he related what had happened. The girl looked out of the window over the grey towers.
“I hope, Peter, the fate of Swanson doesn’t overtake you,” she muttered. “I couldn’t bear that...somehow.”
He looked at her curiously and seven centuries of additional culture failed to stop a faint flush mounting her cheeks. To hide her embarrassment she put the file on the table and opened it.
“It’s all in here about Anton Shaw,” she said.
“...striving to encompass its own doom,” Peter muttered, pondering. “But how? What did—”
“Anton Shaw wasn’t exiled to any part of the Earth, Peter, just as you surmised. He was fired into space.”
He started. “Space!” he exclaimed; then he snapped his fingers. “Now things are starting to line up a bit!”
He sat down and pored over the file, beginning a study of the history of Anton Shaw. Every paragraph was illuminating. The girl had by no means exaggerated the man’s cleverness. Apparently he had been a genius in all branches of science from physics to telepathy, with a specially profound knowledge of quantum mechanics, vibration, electricity, and force. The columns contained full details of his crimes against society, of his last abortive effort to dominate Earth with his immense knowledge, and finally of his overthrow, trial, and banishment. Here Peter discovered an answer to the problem that had long been puzzling him—the reason for abandonment of space travel. In a few words the whole thing was solved....
...it was conceded by the Tribunal of Justice, convened by the Governing Council under President Valroy, that the sentence of exile should be carried out upon Anton Shaw. He was therefore condemned to be fired into space in a coffin-projectile, in the manner accorded to State criminals before him. Space itself now being too dangerous to cross with its countless free radiations, of which cosmic rays form the largest part, rocket-death has the advantage of removing the condemned man entirely from Earth and death is also ensured....
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