"And the Most Domestic?" queried Viola, smiling in spite of herself at this odd distribution of offices.
"Ah, there we come to the rub. The Superlatively Domestic is nominally Superintendent of Scrubwomen and City Scavengers. In practice, she is expected to take a very active and personal part in the Temple housekeeping, while the administrative work really falls to the department of police. When I tell you that the office is at present unfilled, and that the latest incumbent died some time ago from overwork, you will agree with me that you, Miss Trenmore, are unfitted for such a post. Your social position would be intolerable. The other Superlatives would ignore you, while as for the common Numbers, I, for one, would never dream of permitting you to associate with that ill-bred herd!"
"And yet," thought Drayton, "by his own account he must once have been only a Number himself!"
"Now, I," continued the Superlative, "have a very different and more attractive proposal to submit."
"And that is?"
Leaning forward, Cleverest's eyes became more cunningly eager.
"I propose that you, Miss Trenmore, supplant the Loveliest herself! It is perfectly feasible. She only holds the position-I mean, there is no chance of your being defeated. Let the woman go to the pit! Her beauty is a thing outworn years ago. But you-Listen: she threw me over for you, Mr. Trenmore, because she is so sure of herself that she believes she cannot be supplanted. But she is like every other woman; her skill at politics is limited by her own self-esteem and vanity. She has dallied along for years, putting off her choice of a male consort for one excuse or another, but really because she likes her selfish independence and prefers to keep her very considerable power to herself.
"At one time she was a great favorite with His Supremity, and in consequence more or less deferred to by even the Service. At present, however, Mr. Virtue is the only real friend she has among the Servants, and he is growing rather tired of it. Without realizing it, she has for three years been walking on the very thin ice of His Supremity's tolerance. It is true that six months ago she pledged herself to me, which shows that even she is not quite blind. But that was a contract which I, for my part, have never intended to fulfill. I had almost despaired, however, of discovering any really desirable candidate to take her place. Last night when I looked across the Pit I could hardly trust my eyes, Miss Trenmore. You seemed too good to be true. No, really you did! If she had thought about it at all, Lovely would have guessed then that her day was over. Your friends, Miss Trenmore, are my friends, and if you will follow my advice, you and I will end by having this city under our thumbs-like that!"
He made a crushing gesture, which somehow suggested an ultimate cruelty and tyranny beyond anything which Drayton, even, had encountered in his own proper century.
"The Penn Service will give you a free hand," continued the man. "I can promise that as no other living man save one could do. I am-But never mind that now. Will you take me on as a friend?"
Viola was eying him curiously.
"And this Loveliest-you say she must take her choice in marriage of just those two, Strongest or Cleverest? But Terry will be one of those, and he is my brother!"
"I am not your brother," said Cleverest insinuatingly.
Drayton sprang to his feet, and Trenmore, already standing, made a sudden forward motion. But to their surprise Viola herself waved them to be quiet and smiled very sweetly upon this foxy-faced and cold-blooded suitor.
"I think I may thank you, sir, and accept your alternative. If you are sure that I shall win in this strange competition. And now I am thinking, what do you do with the people who lose their high office? I suppose they go back among the Numbers again?
The man laughed. "That would never do. Penn Service could never allow that. Any one who fails at a competition, whether he is a candidate or an actual incumbent of office, goes into the pit!"
"Gee!" muttered Bertram succinctly. Then aloud, "Say, Mister, I shouldn't think these here Super-what-you-may-call-'em jobs would ever get to be real popular!"
"We are not exactly crowded with applicants," acknowledged the Superlative. "But do not allow yourselves to be troubled on that score. I have excellent reasons for prophesying your success. And now I had best leave you, before her worn-out Loveliness catches me here. She might just possibly upset the apple cart yet! May I rely on you?"
He looked from one to the other with a shifty, yet piercing gaze.
"I think you may." Again Viola smiled upon him in a way that made Drayton writhe inwardly. What hidden side of this beautiful, innocent, girl-child's nature was now being brought to the surface? Did she realize the implications of this thing to which she was so sweetly agreeing? Her brother stood glum and silent, eyes fixed on the floor. Cleverest, however, his ax having been produced and successfully ground, extended a thin, cold hand to Viola.
"It is refreshing," he declared, "to find brains and the faculty of decision in conjunction with such beauty!"
Viola accepted the hand and the crude compliment with equal cordiality. "May we hope to see you soon again?"
"As early as circumstances allow. Don't let Lovely suspect what's in the wind. Just let her imagine that everything is drifting her way. I'll look after you. Be sure of that!"
And the Superlative departed, leaving behind him a brewing storm which broke almost as quickly as the door closed on his retreating back.
"Viola," growled her brother, and it said much for his anger that there was no endearment in his tone, "is it crazy you have gone? Or is it your intention to offer me that for a brother-in-law? Can you not see-"
"Now, just a minute, Terry. What is the title and position of the pleasant-faced gentleman who was here?"
"Cleverest, of course, the cunning-eyed rat! And he said he was at the head of the lawyers, bad luck to the lot of them-begging your sole pardon, Bobby, my boy!"
"Exactly. And is there no one of us who is better fitted for that same office than he that was just now here? Who is it that you've told me was the cleverest lad you ever met, Terry, and the prince of all lawyers?" She smiled mischievously at Drayton. "And why," she continued, "should Loveliest be the only one to receive a surprise on Wednesday? Let Mr. Drayton try for the office he's best trained for. I have faith that this Cleverest of theirs is not the man to win against him."
"I might try-" began Drayton. Then as the full inference struck him he started, staring with incredulous eyes at Trenmore's sister.
Though a slow flush mounted in her delicate cheeks, she returned his gaze unwaveringly.
"And why not, Mr. Drayton? Would you have me give myself to the present incumbent of that office? And I am asking of you only the protection betrothal would offer me until we may escape from these unkindly folk. Are you not my brother's trusted friend, and may I not trust you also?"
"Before Heaven, you may, Miss Viola," said Drayton simply, but with all the intensity of one taking a holy vow. "Terry, are you willing that I should attempt this thing?"
Trenmore nodded. "As a possible brother-in-law, Bobby, I do certainly prefer you to the other candidate. And by the powers, 'twill be worth all the troubles we've had to see that sly rat's face when you oust him from his precious job!"
"If I oust him," corrected Drayton.
"You'll do it. You've the brains of three of him packed in that handsome skull of yours. But Bertram, man, wherever did you get that watch? 'Tis a beautiful timepiece and all, but never the one you had last night!"
"It is, though." The most recent addition to their party turned away, at the same time sliding the watch in his pocket.
"It is not! Let me see it." The Irishman held out his hand with a peremptory gesture.
Somewhat sullenly the little round man obeyed the command. It was, as Trenmore had said, a beautiful watch; a thin hunting-case model and engraved "J. S. to C. June 16, 2114." The watch was attached to a plain fob of black silk, terminating in a ruby of remarkable size and brilliance, set in platinum. Trenmore looked up from his examination sternly.
"Who is 'C'? Never mind. I can guess! I remember how you brushed against the man as you went to open the door for him to go out."
"Well, and what if I did?" grumbled Bertram. "That Cleverest guy ain't no real friend of yours, is he?"
To Drayton's surprise, Viola laughed outright. "Mr. Burglar, you should change your habits once in two thousand years at least! Had you looked into that pit of theirs, as we did, you'd not be lifting things from a man who can send you there. Terry, how would it do to let Mr. Bertram try for the office of Quickest? He is that, by this piece of work, and on the police force he'd be-"
Her brother drowned the sentence in a great shout of mirth.
"You've the right of it, little sister! 'Tis the very post for him. Bertram, my round little lad, would that keep you out of mischief, do you think?"
Bertram grinned sheepishly. "It ain't such a bad idea," he conceded. "They tell me there's lots of graft to be picked up on the force. And say, it would be some fun to be ordering a bunch of cops around! I'm on, Mr. Trenmore!"
CHAPTER 12: THE NEW CITY
BY the evening of that day the four castaways of Time had acquired a better knowledge of the city, its odd customs and odder laws, than had been theirs during Cleverest's morning call. The Loveliest had kept her word and more than kept it. She had called for them in her car, amiably accepted their rather lame excuses for Bertram's presence, and insisted on an immediate shopping expedition to supply their more pressing needs in the way of clothing and toilette necessities.
On leaving the hotel she bestowed upon each of her proteges a plain green button. These, she explained, denoted that the wearer was of the immediate family of a Superlative. She had arranged with "Virty" to stretch a point for convenience sake, and so protect her wards pro tempore. Connections of Penn Servants, it seemed, wore similar buttons, but purple in color. No wearer of a button of either hue, she assured them, would ever be troubled by the police unless at the direct command of a Servant. This seemed a sweeping assertion, but they assumed that it did not cover such a person in the commission of actual crime. Later they were not so sure.
The most curious impression which Drayton received upon this brief expedition was that of the intense, commonplace familiarity of everything he saw, complicated by a secret undercurrent of differences too deep to be more than guessed at. The stores-most of them-were the same. The streets were the same. The people were not quite the same. Not only did both men and women appear to have undergone positive physical deterioration, but the look in their eyes was different.
These nameless, yellow-tagged Numbers who thronged the streets had a hangdog, spiritless appearance, as if caring little what their labor or their goings to and fro might bring them.
Everywhere the most profound, even slavish, respect was accorded to the Loveliest and her party. Evidently she was well known throughout the city.
Before entering the stores, she took them to luncheon and played the part of munificent hostess so well that all of them, save perhaps, Mr. Bertram, were more than half ashamed of their secret alliance with her jilted betrothed, the Cleverest.
One thing she did later, however, which cleared Viola's conscience. At one of the larger department stores, she insisted on purchasing for the girl a great supply of gingham aprons and plain, practical house dresses.
"You will need them, my dear," she assured affectionately. "Now, don't object! If you are to keep up your position as Superlatively Domestic you will require at least four dozen of each!"
Viola, more amused than annoyed, let the woman have her way. "Just picture me," she murmured aside to Drayton. "Picture poor little me cleaning the whole inside of City Hall! Isn't she the dear, though?"
Everything was to be charged, they discovered, to that benevolent institution "Penn Service." Trenmore, who made it a practice to carry a considerable amount of money about him, wished to pay. The woman scoffed at the notion.
"You'll soon get over the idea of paying for anything," she declared. "But tell me; how do you come to have money? I thought you said you had just reached the city. Is it money you brought with you? May I see it?"
Trenmore handed her some silver and a ten-dollar bill.
"Why, what curious little medals-and how pretty they are! Would you mind giving me these as a keepsake?"
"Not at all, madam," Trenmore responded gravely. Despite her obvious efforts to please, the woman's company and her open devotion to himself were becoming increasingly distasteful. As he complained to Drayton, he did not like the green eyes of her! "I suppose your own coins are different?" he queried.
"We don't use coins-is that what you call them? — for exchange. The common Numbers have their certificates of labor, somewhat like this piece of paper of yours. They are not green and yellow, though, but red, stamped with the number of hours in black. They are free to spend these as they please. But the Servants of Penn and we Superlatives charge everything to the Service."
"You mean the city pays?"
"Oh, no. These stores must do their part toward the government upkeep. That is only just. We levy on all the people equally-on the merchant and property-holder for goods; on the laborer for a portion of his time, if we require it. Penn Service makes no exceptions."
She said this with an air of great virtue, but Drayton commented, "That must be rather hard on any merchant or worker you particularly favor-especially a man of small capital or large family."
"It keeps them in line," she retorted, with a somewhat cruel set to her thin red lips.
"But," objected Drayton, harking back to the matter of money, "if your currency is not based on gold or silver, how does it possess any stability?"
"I don't know what you mean. The Service sets a valuation on the different sorts of labor. For instance, if an expert accountant and a street cleaner each work one hour, the accountant will receive credit for ten hours and the scavenger credit for half an hour. I suppose you might say the system is based on working time."
"And the value is not set by either employer or employed?"
Her eyes widened. "Let the Numbers say how much a man's labor is worth? Whoever heard of such a thing! Why, they would grind each other into the ground."
"They are at least free to work for each other or not as they please, I suppose?"
"Certainly. Why, they are perfectly free in every way. They even own all the property except the Temple itself and the officials' private residences."
Drayton was hopelessly at sea. Was this system a tyranny, as he had indefinitely suspected, or was it the freest and most orderly of governments?
"Forgive my stupidity," he apologized. "I don't even yet understand. Instead of the dollar you make an hour's labor the unit and then set a fixed schedule of labor value. But the work of two men at the same job is hardly ever of equal worth. How do you-"
"Wait," she broke in impatiently. "When you are yourself one of us, sir, you may understand these arrangements better. Penn Service owns practically nothing; but it rules everything. It is perfectly impartial. One man's labor is as good as another's. Any one who refused to give or take a certificate would have the Service to deal with."
"And yet the Service itself never pays for anything and takes what it likes of goods or labor. But according to that your whole population are mere slaves, and their ownership of property a mockery! Who are these Servants of Penn that hold such power?"
She stared at him, a hard look in her green eyes.
"The Masters of the City," she retorted briefly. "It is not suitable that we discuss them here and now. Wait until to-morrow. Then you yourself will become, I hope, a Superlative, and as such will receive all the necessary information."
The ex-lawyer accepted the snub meekly, but dared one further question.
"Are Mercy and Judge Virtue Servants of Penn?"
"Mr. Mercy and Mr. Virtue are both of the Inner Order. You will do very well not to cross their path-er-Drayton."
He made no further comment, but determined to use ev
ery opportunity to get at the true inwardness of this singular system and the toleration of it by the so-called "Numbers." Were all other cities like this? They must be, he thought, or no one would choose this one to live in.
The Loveliest herself seemed strangely devoid of curiosity regarding her proteges' past lives and histories. Indeed, twice she checked Trenmore when he would have volunteered information along this line. "You must not tell me these things," she declared. "Even we Superlatives are not permitted to learn of other places and customs-are not supposed to know that such exist!"
At this preposterous statement Bertram, who had been going about with an air of pained boredom, became interested.
"Say, lady, don't you folks ever go traveling anywheres?"
Had he suggested something indelicate, she could have looked no more horrified.
"Traveling outside of Philadelphia? I should hope not! Besides, such an outrage would never be permitted, I assure you."
"But you must have some communication with the outer world?" puzzled Viola. "We saw the trains and the passengers at the ferry. And where do all these things come from that we see in the stores?"
"My dear, we have many local trains, of course, but the interstate commerce is entirely in the hands of Penn Service. Our laborers here manufacture certain articles; our farmers raise certain produce. These things are turned over to the Service who reserve a share to themselves for expense. Then they exchange it outside the boundaries; but it is all done by the secret agents and I have never bothered my head about it. The matter is outside the province of my administration."
"How long has this sort of thing gone on?" persisted Drayton.
"My dear sir, and all of you, why will you ask such absurd and impossible questions? Can't you understand that we Philadelphians have no concern either with the past or with anything outside our own boundaries? The law says, let every good citizen live his own life. It is forbidden that he should do more than that."
The Heads of Cerberus Page 10
