Kate Wilhelm - Let the Fire Fall

BLAKE-TEAGUE arrived in Covington by special Church plane in October. The countryside was dull brown. The leaves had fallen, brittle and lifeless, ahead of season for lack of water. Only at the temple was the grass still green, the ornamental trees still luxurious-looking, and chrysanthemums in full bloom. The grounds with the precisely measured terraces, the geometry of hundreds of white marble steps, the shrubs, bushes, flowers arranged mathematically to perfection looked like a postcard. The plane came straight down so that the temple grew from a tiny glare of white to a structure that filled the horizon when the plane finally touched ground. There were seventy-five initiates aboard, some of them Teague’s age, some younger, some much older. All of them were awed. The initiates were lined up and led to the dorm where the new arrivals were kept until the lengthy testing program was concluded.

Blake-Teague knew that this would be the tricky part of it. As the weeding-out process advanced and the numbers were lessened, the chances of successfuly maintaining his masquerade diminished. He had very carefully established James Teague as a registered person with the data bank; he would pass a routine retina check, but not a fingerprint check, so if they went too far back, Blake Daniels would fall out in their laps. He muttered and mumbled and hoped they wouldn’t get that thorough with anyone as subordinate as he was. He counted on their being less suspicious here in the inner sanctum than they were at the ship entrance. He knew that he came highly recommended. He passed their IQ tests, no higher than 100, and the aptitude tests that proved he was fit to farm and run machinery but had no aptitude for any of the arts or sciences. His personality profile would show a man ready to bully or to submit to bullying. And throughout it all, he showed a streak now and then of a psychopathic personality that was ready to emerge at any time. At the end of the testing period he was given an assignment, and there was no time for him to escape and visit the ship before he was sent from the temple. As an accepted member now, he would be allowed to make the pilgrimage back whenever he was free to do so.

The day that James Teague-Blake Daniels left the temple to fulfill his first task for the Church, Winifred Harvey was taken to the headquarters building on Mount Laurel. Winifred looked about curiously as she deplaned. There was the airstrip, and the control building at the side of it, completely encircled by magnificent hardwood trees: brick red and brown oaks, blazing maples, yellow birches. The plateau on the side of the mountain had one road leading from it, a narrow unpaved road that forked with one branch leading downward through the forest, the other part winding upward toward the summit. Along the road scarlet sassafras trees and shiny green honeysuckle and mountain laurel made a dense mass that appeared impenetrable. It was very lovely, and very lonely-looking.

Obie met her personally. “Dr. Harvey, it is nice to see you again. It’s many, many years since our first meeting.”

“We never met, Obie Cox, and you know it. You simply eavesdropped on me and Matt when you had the chance.”

Obie smiled genially and led her inside the colonial house. “I think you’ll find our accommodations adequate, Doctor. If you desire anything, please don’t hesitate to let us know. We wish you to be entirely comfortable during your visit.”

“You realize that I plan to charge you with kidnapping,” Winifred said pleasantly, following Obie into a long, dim, cool room that had couches and comfortable chairs in it. There were two men in the room. They both stood when she entered.

“Dr. Harvey, may I present my colleagues, Mr. Merton and Dr. Mueller.”

“Robbie Mueller!” Winifred ignored the outstretched hand of the other psychiatrist. She looked him up and down. “So this is what happened to you? I wondered. Deacon in charge of the brainwashing division?”

Rober Mueller had been her pupil twenty years ago, a brilliant, exciting, original intellect, mixed with emotional immaturity that had been a constant source of irritation. He was forty, good-looking now, and poised, where he had been rawboned and gauche, fresh from the back country of Minnesota, awkward and unsure of his manners, ignorant of the niceties of what to order in restaurants, what the different drinks contained, what to wear, how to comb his hair. None of that showed now.

“Dr. Harvey, a pleasure,” he murmured at her. She grinned at him suddenly, and laughed aloud when a flush spread across his ,cheeks and his face suddenly looked heavy, and he was very out of place in the expensively furnished room of antiques.

Winifred turned to Obie and said, “Okay, you can get from me what you want, but you’ll be disappointed. I don’t know from nothing.”

“We’ll see,” the third man said then. Merton, he’d been introduced as Mr. Merton. Winifred studied him briefly. He was the organizer here, she decided quickly. This was his baby.

“Winifred…. May I?” Robbie Mueller looked at her and waited for her shrug before he continued. “You do know certain things that we need to know. I won’t harm you. I think you know that I can find out what we want without doing you any damage at all, but if you are recalcitrant, then there are things I can do to you…. We really do want your cooperation.”

She simply waited.

“One, Blake Daniels. We want to find him. And Derek too. We know about Matt and Lisa, that you put them to sleep, but we’d like to know for how long and what their official numbers are so that we can check what you tell us.”

“One,” she said, “I don’t know. Two, I don’t know. Three, ten years. Four, I don’t know. Okay? Now I can go?”

So they took her to the hospital on the grounds and Robbie Mueller apologized as he administered the injection personally, and after several days, or weeks, she never did find out how long it was, she woke up is a wide, luxuriant bed, to see soft cream-colored drapes rippling in the breeze dimming the sunlight, and a slender girl sitting by the bed watching her anxiously. The girl had large brown eyes that were like the eyes of a fawn, Winifred thought as she struggled to wake up completely. The girl arose and came to her. “Would you like to get up now?” she asked. “May I help you?”

Winifred found that she needed help. A tray was brought in and she had coffee, the first she’d had in months, and a cigarette with good tobacco, and when she finished with both, there was food, and a bath and fresh clothing. The girl smiled charmingly when she asked what day it was. When Winifred was dressed once more the girl led her from the room to an office where Mueller was waiting for her.

He looked tired, Winifred thought, and she smiled. It was harder on the one doing it than the one to whom it was done. “And so?” she prompted when he hesitated.

“You know,” he said. “You know what you had to tell us. So we keep looking.” He toyed with a pen. “We can’t let you go, you know.”

“I suspected,” she said dryly.

“We would like to enlist your help,” Robbie said after another pause. “You talked about Johnny, the Star Child, you know. I was curious about how you felt about him. About your relationship with him.”

“Robbie, come out with it. What do you want?”

“You have a choice. You can voluntarily help us with Johnny. Or you can enter the hospital as a patient.” He said it fast, glanced about guiltily, and put a finger to his lips. “I know from what you told me that you are very fond of him, and that he trusts you implicitly. Probably you are the only person he does trust. He’s coming here soon, and I believe it would be good for him to find you here ready to greet him, make him feel at home.”