Groff Conklin (ed)

by Five Odd

  '"That makes sense," I said with some interest "So we've got to get busy now and1—"

  Dick was shaking his head. "We threw that out," he said. "Four people hired to kill Lorraine. Hired, remember. We don't know that, but it's a safe guess. And hired by the Traders. That's another safe guess. What does that add up to?"

  I wasnt entering into competition with a Unit "You tell me," I suggested.

  "That wherever the Traders' base is, it isn't here," said Dick.

  The way I've told this, maybe that's been obvious all along. I don't know. But it hit me like the six shells which lad ploughed their way through Lorraine.

  All really brilliant stratagems are simple. You conceal the issential thing so that your antagonists question everything :lse, but never think about that. You strew the field with dif-iculties which they'll solve, while the simple, ingenuous flaw is there hi full view all the time. Like Poe's purloined letter.

  The Units on Parionar would also be looking for Trader activities. But on Parionar no Uniteer would be assassinated.

  The Traders had happened to pick on Perryon, and us. They'd had the sense not to try anything complicated or too obvious. We wouldn't bite if it was too ovbious.

  And the really clever thing about it was that the conclusions which were reached wouldn't be reached by a Unit but by the remaining members of a Unit, Naturally we'd report that Perryon was almost certainly the Traders' base, at any rate a spot to be investigated soon and thoroughly. Meantime the Traders, wherever they really were,-would be lying low— and not giving any Unit in their vicinity anything to work on,

  "The only thing is," I said, "that this is completely negative. It gives us nothing positive to report."

  "We can make a guess," said Dick. "At one time both Jack Kelman and Rhoda Walker were on Fryon. Now the Traders must have contacted them sometime. And they wouldn't do it on Earth if they could help it Fryon is the only world other than Earth which both Kelman and Walker visited. Rhoda Walker had been on Perryon, Kelman never. Fryon may not be the Traders' base, of course—but it's very probably where the contact was made."

  I remembered scanning the information on the Violin Song's passenger list about Kelman and Rhoda Walker. "But they were on Fryon at different times," I objected. "And it was months ago."

  Dick nodded. "I suspect they were recruited on Fryon, but not for any definite job. Just as people the Traders could call on. It was much later they got their instructions."

  I wasn't convinced about Fryon, but I didn't have to be. If the Unit said it was so, it was my job to report it

  4.

  One of the guards came in with a wire. He shouldn't have left his post to deliver it but that's typical of frontier worlds. It's only in highly organized communities that people pay rigid attention to detail.

  The wire was from U.A. bn Earth—in code, of course, but I didn't need any printed key to decipher it

  The name and address read: Edgar Williamson, Unit Father, Perryon. Just that And if either my name or designa-

  tion had been left out I'd still have got it. At such times I felt I was somebody.

  "From U.A.," I said. " 'Reason here to suspect Perryon. What progress?'" I looked at it a shade bitterly. 'That's like U.A. They know we've got a member badly injured, and they still expect progress."

  I took a sheet of paper and wrote. I handed the result to Dick.

  My message read: Perryon is not Traders' base. Williamson.

  Dick was frowning.

  "Something wrong with that?" I asked.

  "You cant send this," he said. "Remember how they'll treat anything we send them. They'll take it as fact and act on it. It's only our guess that the Traders had Lorraine attacked as a red herring."

  "But Units always work on guesses like that"

  "Yes, if they're sure enough. Lorraine wasn't more than fifty per cent effective when we decided that We could be wrong."

  ■ I hesitated. My impulse was still to send the first message. It appealed to my sense of the dramatic to send a terse, unequivocal reply like that

  Dick, however, was the real boss of the Unit not me. If he wouldn't take the responsibility for sending that message, the Unit wouldn't take it and I had no right to send it

  "All right" I said reluctantly. "'How about this?"

  My substitute message consisted of one word: Pending.

  Dick nodded. "Perfect," he said with a grin.

  Since we could do no more on the question, of the Traders meantime, we devoted our attention to that other job—settling Perryon's North-South altercation.

  Dick, consulted by a manufacturing firm in Sedgeware, fixed things so that a big contract went to Twendon. He went to Twendon to fix up the details. He gave good reasons for his recommendation, without admitting either in Sedgeware or in Twendon that the real reason was that by this much Twendon was elevated in industrial importance and Sedgeware diminished.

  lone, on a visit to the North—we were staying in Sedgeware while Lorraine was in hospital there—went to Foresthill instead of Benoit City. She spent some time there, for no obvious reason. We knew that every move by every one of us was closely examined for special significance, and we knew that people would be wondering what Ione's visit to Forestbill portended. At least some people would guess that Foresthill was soon to assume a special importance.

  Helen opened a new Library at Twendon. Her speech, without being blatant, hinted that Twendon was the real cultural center of the South.

  We began to be a trifle unpopular in Sedgeware. We could no longer hide the fact that we didn't regard Sedgeware as the proper capital for the South.

  We replied apologetically that h couldn't be helped—Sedgeware was already overdeveloped and Twendon was the coming power in the region.

  Some people thought this over, and knowing we must be right, withdrew capital from Sedgeware and invested it in Twendon. Young men and women from the smaller towns, looking for a job, no longer went to Sedgeware but to Twendon instead.

  Helen and lone began to appear in clothes which were anything but normal Earth wear. They were smart, simple, mostly in bright towelling, easy to change and wash. They were exactly right for Sedgeware's warm, humid climate, and it might have been an accident that they were in no way like the fashions of Earth. Soon the women of Sedgeware were copying them.

  Dick and Brent and I went around in shorts. Gradually the fanatically Terran appearance of everybody and everything in Sedgeware began to change.

  In less than a week we had given the Sedgeware to Twendon change-over such a push that only we ourselves could have stopped it. It would be some months before Twendon was the acknowledged leader in the South, acknowledged even by Sedgeware, but the change could no longer be prevented.

  We completed our preliminary campaign by moving from Sedgeware to Twendon ourselves as soon as Lorraine could be moved. Though it wasn't actually stated, we gave the impression that we believed Lorraine would get much better treatment there. It was true, anyway. Twendon realized that we were putting it on the map, and was duly grateful.

  At long range we had been taking steps to do the same thing with Benoit City and Foresthill. We had to be more subtle in this case. The second time you try a thing it isn't so easy.

  We had one piece of good luck. Perryon needed a new spaceport. It was to be built with funds from Earth, not local funds. The merchants of Earth were always prepared to fi-

  nance such schemes because, despite the local tariffs, there was still a huge volume of trade between Earth and all the planets, and even poor Perryon was worth a major spaceport

  We got in touch with U.A. on Earth and had the site of the proposed spaceport changed from Benoit City to Fores thill.

  It wouldn't be built for some time yet but everybody knew that ft was being built at Foresthill instead of Benoit City —and nobody knew that we'd made the change. ~

  Gradually Foresthill began to grow in power, like Twendon. And already we could see some of the results of our labors.
Sedgeware and Benoit City still fought, were still deadly rivals, but it didn't matter so much. Soon it wouldn't matter at all.

  A long radiogram arrived from UA, Earth. It was addressed to the Unit Fathers on Gersten, Camisac, Fryon, Pari on ar, Maverick, Perryon—forty-seven in all, and it read:

  Trader activity must be stopped. Three fleets are cruising in your areas and a direct call from any one of you will bring one of them to you within twelve hours. We know the Traders are based on one of your worlds. Surely it is not beyond the capabilities of the Unit on the right world to establish the presence of the Traders?

  Please send out each of you, on the open wave, your estimation of the probability that your world is the Trader base. Impossibility, one. Complete certainty, ten. Send nothing but this figure unless you have reason to believe that the base may be on some particular world not your own. Send this in code.

  We repeat—we find this continued silence from forty-seven Units almost incredible. The Traders cannot possibly be so well hidden that no Unit can discover them —unless they have developed a different form of interstellar travel. If any of you has heard any hint that this may be so, report it immediately.

  "Yes, it is odd at that" Dick murmured, as he read th< message. "How is it that the Traders haven't been dis covered—by forty-seven Units?"

  He looked up at me. "Lorraine's out of all danger now Edgar. We've got to have a real high-power session."

  I nodded. The UA, like many another semi-military authority, was accepting no excuses. We had a complete Unit on Perryon, and the services of a complete Unit were expected of us—even if one of us was in hospital.

  We went to the hospital. Lorraine's bed was moved to a small private ward and the door locked.

  "You look healthy enough now, Lorraine," I said.

  "Yes, I've put on fourteen pounds—isn't that awful?" she exclaimed. Even cleared, a woman is still a woman.

  "You could stand it," I grinned.

  "No—three or four, maybe, but not fourteen. Let's get started. If I can lose a few pounds in nervous energy, so much the better."

  It was like the last session I'd seen, and I understood no more of what was going on. But though I hadn't seen the Unit at work the last time, just after Lorraine had been shot, I could see that this was very different Lorraine lay back in bed, relaxed, yet even I could feel the vitality of her contribution.

  It's always a guess who supplies what in a Unit. Even the Uniteers themselves don't know. As I watched this session I got the idea that Lorraine was the real force behind this Unit. The heart, if you like. Dick was the brain, undoubtedly, and as such was very important However, the brain in a human being is not the most vital thing. The heart controls the brain, not the other way round. The brain is tired when the heart makes it alert when the heart allows it to be. Death almost always comes down in the last resort to heart failure.

  Any time the Unit seemed to be stopped, it was Lorraine who started things going again. Brent, Helen and lone introduced things, but they had to be taken up by Dick or Lorraine before they came to anything. Dick's suggestions and conclusions were never summarily thrown out except by Lorraine.

  Seeing Lorraine's importance to the Unit I wasn't surprised when I realized that the first thing they had done this time was throw out all the conclusions they'd reached the last time. Presently I saw that they were really on to something, though I had no idea what it was. Soon after this I gathered that they were looking for something, trying to locate something or other by not looking for it but by probabilities—the way they had drawn up a list of three possible assassins in the ship from the passenger list

  I wondered if they thought they could determine the Traders' base by inspired guesswork. It seemed unlikely. If that had been possible, one of the other forty-six Units would have done it long since.

  Yet I knew Units, like individuals, differed in their capabilities. And I thought mine was a particularly good Unit. I knew, of course, that most Unit Fathers thought that—just as most parents thought their child the most wonderful in the world.

  Suddenly the session was suspended—suspended, not stopped. They were all looking at me, except Lorraine, who had closed her eyes, suddenly looking tired again.

  "Edgar," said Dick. "Go and find out who the first man was who opened this North-South split. Who actually started it The first speech in the Assembly, the first article in a paper, whatever it was. Go back as far as you can. Never mind the later people, the people who took it up. Get two names—someone in Benoit City and someone in Sedgeware."

  I got up. "Do I have to keep my interest secret?" I asked.

  "No—well be ready to follow it up as soon as you've got it Try the newspapers, the Assembly records before the split, the police. Youll probably have to go to Benoit City. Come back when you've got two names."

  I didn't ask for any more information. I left them—reflecting wryly that this showed exactly how important Unit Fathers were. When his Unit was in full cry it ordered him about like an errand-boy, and he did as be was told.

  I went to the Twendon Times office and asked to see the librarian. It wasn't the librarian they took me to see but the chief editor. If I was only an errand-boy to my Unit, I was a very important person to everybody else.

  "I only want to have a look at your files," I protested. "I needn't take up your time, Mr. Carse."

  "I know all that's in the files," the lean, hungry-looking man behind the desk informed me. "Is there a story in this, Mr. Williamson?"

  "There will be."

  "What do you want to know? Shoot."

  "Who started the trouble between Benoit Chy and Sedgeware?" I asked abruptly.

  He couldn't give me a straight immediate answer. He knew everything the newspaper had reported as he claimed, but I had to keep directing him. He suggested a lot of things, but there was always something earlier.

  At last he said doubtfully: "Well, I guess the first thing of all was an article that came in ... we didn't run it, but all the Sedgeware newspapers did. Only thing is, you wouldn't know that was the beginning until afterwards—when you knew everything, I mean."

  "That's what I want," I said confidently. "What was in the article, and who wrote it?"

  Dick had asked for two names. I had one of them, and it had taken me less than half an hour to get it. The other wasn't going to be so easy to get.

  I flew to Benoit City. It took fifty-five minutes.

  Benoit City had never been as friendly toward us as Sedgeware. That was natural, for Benoit City was never as friendly toward anybody as Sedgeware was.

  North and South are pretty much the same anywhere. The North is business-like, in a hurry, brash, confident, hard, cynical, with the heart of gold well concealed by the pocketbook. The South is hospitable, friendly, easy-going, lazy, romantic, tradition-loving, happy, optimistic.

  Again I went to the local newspaper. Again I was shown into the presence of the chief, only this time he was called the managing editor. His name was Morrissey.

  Morrissey heard what I had to say, then said immediately: "What you're looking for is something a visiting actress said. It was ..."

  He told me what it was, and he was right That had set things moving so that in Benoit City a short time later the council had voted against the teaching of Earth in schools.

  But I was at a loss. The actress had been on a tour of the galaxy and had probably forgotten Perryon by this time. She wasn't in this, I was certain.

  "Who spoke to her," I asked, "before she said that? Who in this city, I mean?"

  "Just one of my reporters.Jenson. 1*11 get him for you."

  "No," I said quickly. "Don't say anything to him."

  "If there's a story," said the editor bluntly, "is it mine?"

  "It's yours," I said. "But you'll have to share it with Carse of the Twendon Times."

  "That's all right," he said. "They don't circulate here."

  I left him and flew back to Twendon.

  I'd been away from
the ward where the Unit was deliberating for three hours. But they were still at it when I got back. I cast an anxious glance at Lorraine.

  She grinned weakly. "I think I've lost my fourteen pounds," she said. "But we're through now. Go away, all of you, and let me sleep."

  Dick, Helen, lone, Brent and I filed out

  "Before we do anything else," I said, "that reply has to go to the UA Do you realize we got the radiogram four hours agor

  "Is that alir said Dick. "Seems like years." He was tired too. "Send Nine. And put out a direct call for a fleet" I gaped at him.

  "I'd like to make ft Ten," Dick said, "but we're not quite certain enough."

  I got the two calls away without delay. It's no use being impatient with a Unit They won't tell you anything until they're good and ready.

  "Now we have twelve hours," said Dick, "to do a lot of work."

  "Seven," I said. "Twelve hours was maximum. The fleet will be here in seven hours."

  Dick groaned. "And we can't take Lorraine with us," he said. "Oh well. What was that first name?"

  "Look," I said, "I have to know something. You don't need to tell me the whole story, but I've got to know what we're trying to do."

  "Instead of trying to keep us away," said Dick, "the Traders wanted us here. They even started the domestic squabble here to make sure a Unit was sent out. We were supposed to be sent here, lose Lorraine on the way, or here, it didn't matter, decide this wasn't the Trader base, decide Fry on was, and give that to U.A. as our conclusion."

  "You mean the Traders thought they could outsmart a Unit?" I exclaimed.

  "A Unit minus one," Dick reminded me. "But even when they knew Lorraine wasn't dead, I don't think they were worried. Which means they were very confident."

  "Which means they were crazy!" I exclaimed. ,

  Dick shook his head. "Which means they had a Unit of their own," he said.

  I didn't say it was impossible, I didn't say anything.