Status Quo
Page 11
lit up the screen on the Boss' desk and she said, "Thosetwo members of the Movement who were picked up in Alexandria are here,sir."
"Send them in," the Boss rumbled. He looked at Larry. "The F.B.I. managedto arrest almost everyone directly involved in the sabotage."
The two prisoners seemed more amused than otherwise. They were young men,in their early thirties--well dressed and obviously intelligent. The Bosshad them seated side by side and glared at them for a long moment beforespeaking. Larry and the others took chairs in various parts of the roomand added their own stares to the barrage.
The Boss said, "Your situation is an unhappy one, gentlemen."
One of the two shrugged.
The Boss said, "You can, ah, hedge your bets, by co-operating with us. Itmight make the difference between a year or two in prison--and life."
One of them grinned and then yawned. "I doubt it," he said.
The Boss tried a slightly different tack. "You have no reason to maintaina feeling of obligation to Voss and the others. You have obviously beenabandoned. Had they any feeling for you there would have been moreefficacious arrangements for your escape."
The more articulate of the two shrugged again. "We were expendable," hesaid. "However, it won't be long before we're free again."
"You think so?" Ruthenberg grunted.
The revolutionist looked at him. "Yes, I do," he said. "Six months fromnow and we'll be heroes since by that time the Movement will have been asuccess."
The Boss snorted. "Just because you deranged the Records? Why that's buttemporary."
"Not so temporary as you think," the technician replied. "This country hasallowed itself to get deeply enmeshed in punch-card and tape records. Oh,it made sense enough. With the population we have, and the endless filesthat result from our ultra-complicated society, it was simply a matterfinally of developing a standardized system of records for the nation as awhole. Now, for all practical purposes, _all_ of our records these daysare kept with the Department of Records, confidential as well as publicrecords. Why should a university, for instance, keep literally tons offiles, with all the expense and space and time involved, when it canmerely file the same records with the governmental department and havethem safe and easily available at any time? Now, the Movement hascompletely and irrevocably destroyed almost all files that deal with thesocial-labels to which we object. An excellent first step, in forcing ourcountry back into judgment based on ability and intelligence."
"First step!" Larry blurted.
The two prisoners looked at him. "That's right," the quieter of the twosaid. "This is just the first step."
"Don't kid yourselves," Ben Ruthenberg snapped at them. "It's also thelast!"
The two members of the Movement grinned at him.
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When the others had gone, the Boss looked at Larry Woolford. He saidsourly, "When this department was being formed, I doubt anyone had in mindthis particular type of subversion, Lawrence."
Larry grunted. "Give me a good old-fashioned Commie, any time. Look, sir,what are the Department of Justice boys going to do with those prisoners?"
"Hold them on any of various charges. We've conflicted with the F.B.I. inthe past on overlapping jurisdiction, but thank heavens for them now.Their manpower is needed."
Larry leaned forward. "Sir, we ought to take all members of the Movementwe've already arrested, feed them a dose of Scop-Serum, and pressure themto open up on the organization's operations."
His superior looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
Larry said urgently, "Those two we just had in here thought the wholething was a big joke. The first step, they called it. Sir, there'ssomething considerably bigger than this cooking. Uncle Sam might pridehimself on the personal liberties guaranteed by this country, but unlesswe break this organization, and do it fast, there's going to be troublethat will make this fouling of the records look like the minor matterthose two jokers seemed to think it."
The Boss thought about that. He said slowly, "Lawrence, the Supreme Courtruled against the use of Scop-Serum. Not that it is over efficient,anyway. Largely, these so-called truth serums don't accomplish much morethan to lower resistance, slacken natural inhibitions, weaken the will."
"Sure," Larry said. "But give a man a good dose of Scop-Serum and he'dbetray his own mother. Not because he's helpless to tell a lie, butbecause under the influence of the drug he figures it just isn't importantenough to bother about. Sir, Supreme Court or not, I think those two oughtto be given Scop-Serum along with all other Movement members we've pickedup."
The Boss was shaking his head. "Lawrence, these men are not wide-eyedradicals picked up in a street demonstration. They're highly respectedmembers of our society. They're educators, scientists, engineers,technicians. Anything done to them is going to make headlines. Those thatwere actually involved in the sabotage will have criminal charges broughtagainst them, but they're going to get a considerable amount of publicity,and we're going to be in no position to alienate any of theirconstitutional rights."
Larry stood up, approached his chief's desk and leaned over it urgently."Sir, that's fine, but we've got to move and move fast. Something's up andwe don't even know what! Take that counterfeit money. From Susan Self'sdescription, there's actually billions of dollars worth of it."
"Oh, come now, Lawrence. The child exaggerated. Besides, that's a problemfor Steven Hackett and the Secret Service, we have enough on our hands asit is. Forget about the counterfeit, Lawrence. I think I shall put you incomplete control of field work on this, to co-operate in liaison with BenRuthenberg and the F.B.I. So far as we're concerned, the counterfeit anglebelongs to Secret Service, we're working on subversion, and until theCivil Liberties Union or whoever else proves otherwise, we'll considerthis Movement an organization attempting to subvert the country by illegalmeans."
Larry Woolford made a hard decision quickly. He was shaking his head."Sir, I'd rather you gave the administrative end to someone else and letme continue in the field. I've got some leads--I think. If I get boggeddown in interdepartmental red tape, and in paper work here atheadquarters, I'll never get to the heart of this and I'm laying bets thatwe either crack this within days or there are going to be some awfully bigchanges in this country."
The Boss glared at him. "You mean you're refusing this assignment,Woolford. Confound it, don't you realize it's a promotion?"
Larry was worriedly dogged. "Sir, I'd rather stay in the field."
"Very well," the other snapped disgustedly, "I hope you deliver someresults, Woolford, otherwise I am afraid I won't feel particularly happyabout your somewhat cavalier rejection of this opportunity." He flicked onthe phone and snapped to LaVerne Polk, "Miss Polk, locate Walter Fosterfor me. He is to take over our end of this Movement matter."
LaVerne said, "Yes, sir," and her face was gone.
The Boss looked up, still scowling. "What are you waiting for, Woolford?"
"Yes, sir," Larry said. It was just coming home to him now, what he'ddone. There possibly went his yearned for promotion in the department.There went his chance of an upgrading in status. And Walt Foster, of allpeople, in his place.
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At LaVerne's desk, Larry stopped off long enough to say, "Did you everassign that secretary to me?"
LaVerne shook her head at him. "She's come and gone, Larry. She sat aroundfor a couple of days, after seeing you not even once, and then I gave heranother assignment."
"Well, bring her back again, will you? I want her to do up briefs for meon all the information we accumulate on the Movement. It'll be coming infrom all sides now. From the Press, from those members we've arrested,from our F.B.I. pals, now that they're interested, and so forth."
"I'll give you Irene Day," LaVerne said. "Where are you off to now,Larry?"
"Probably a wild goose chase," Larry growled. "Which reminds me. Do me afavor, LaVerne. Call Personal Service and find
out where Frank Nostrandis. He's some kind of rocket technician at Madison Air Laboratories. I'llbe in my office."
"Frank Nostrand," LaVerne said briskly. "Will do, Larry."
Back in his own cubicle, Larry stood for a moment in thought. He wasincreasingly aware of the uncomfortable feeling that time was running outon them. That things were coming to a dangerous head.
He stared down at the dozen or more books and pamphlets that his neverseen secretary had