Mack Reynolds - Code Duello

Dorn Horsten was clucking as though in apology. “Now, dear,” he scolded her, “do be careful. You might blow the colonnello’s brains out.” He frowned slightly, as though in inner debate. “Assuming…” he added, but let the sentence dribble away.

The Florentine was frozen.

Horsten approached and took the gun from Helen’s hand and she dropped gracefully to the floor and smoothed out her pretty blue dress in an exaggerated little-girl gesture.

The scientist said, and there was authority in his voice now. “Where’s your office?”

Still dazed, the other indicated. “In there.”

“All right, let’s all go in there.”

Herding the colonnello before them, Horsten and his diminutive companion entered the office. It was large but standard, with the usual conglomeration of desks, files and office equipment, including orderboxes and vocotypers.

Even as Helen, humming under her breath, put her Dolly’s Nurse Kit on the larger desk and began pulling play vials and hypo needles forth, the big scientist ushered the captive to a chair.

The self-named Colonnello Fantonetti was not a coward. He grated, “What do you want? I warn you…”

Horsten silenced him with a wave of the pistol. “Just as I told you, information about the Engelists.”

“You’re obviously Engelists yourselves,” the other rasped.

“To the contrary, my dear fellow.”

It turned out that Helen’s play hypodermic needles were not exactly toys. She efficiently swabbed a section immediately above his wrist—not taking the time to have him remove his tunic, and roll up a sleeve—and pressed home a shot. She then returned her Dolly’s Nurse equipment to its box and bounded up into a chair very neatly.

Horsten said to the victim, “Scop, you know. Sorry it’s necessary. But we’re quite keen about finding out all there is to know on the Engelists.”

The other gritted his teeth. “You can’t escape,” he said, somewhat out of context with the subject.

“Um,” Horsten said. He looked down at his wrist chronometer and made impatient tush, tush noises while he waited. Helen sat there quietly, smiling in childlike innocence at the colonnello until that worthy, in disgust, closed his eyes to escape.

Horsten said finally, “What is your name?”

The colonnello had blisters of cold sweat on his forehead and he tried desperately to hold his lips tight. However, finally they opened.

“Salvador Marie Fantonetti.”

“And your position?”

“Colonnello, on the staff of His Eccellenza, Alberto Scialanga, the Third Signore.”

“What are your duties?”

“To combat the Engelists.”

“Who are the Engelists?”

“Subversives who wish to overthrow the government of the First Signore and the Free Democratic Commonwealth of Firenze.”

Dom Horsten said, “How do they expect to accomplish this?”

There was a slight hesitation in the drugged man’s voice. Finally, “I do not know.”

Horsten scowled. “Well, what methods do they use?”

“They attempt to subvert the institutions of Firenze.”

“Of course, but how?”

“By… by speaking against the First Signore and his Council of Signori.”

Helen said, “Do they have radio, Tri-Di, other broadcasting facilities?”

“No.”

“Well, do they have newspapers?” She was scowling in growing puzzlement as was her partner.

The colonnello remained silent.

She reworded it. “Do you think they have newspapers?”

“No.”

Dorn Horsten said impatiently, “Do they write books against the government?”

The Florentine remained silent.

“Do you think they write books against the government?”

“I… I do not know.”

“Do you know of any pamphlets, leaflets or other printed propaganda they have written against the government?”

“No.”

Helen said, a touch of disbelief in her voice, “What do they do in their attempts to overthrow the government?”

“They attempt to recruit followers to their underground by speaking against the administration of the First Signore.”

Helen and Dorn Horsten looked at each other.

The scientist started on a new tack. “Have you ever captured any Engelists?”

Their prisoner of the Scop drug remained silent.

Frowning his growing bewilderment, Horsten demanded, “Have you ever captured any persons you suspected of being Engelists?”

“Yes.”

“How many of these did you prove were Engelists?”

He remained silent.

“Did you prove any of them were Engelists?” Helen said impatiently.

“No.”

The two stared at him.

Finally Helen snapped, “Have you ever, in your whole career, seen a person that you absolutely knew was an Engelist?”

The hesitation was there once more. Finally, “No.”

Now they really goggled him. Helen snapped, “Look. How do you know there are any Engelists?”

“They attempt to subvert the institutions of the Free Democracy of the Commonwealth of Firenze.”

“That’s not what I asked you,” she snarled. She looked up at Horsten. “What in the hell’s going on?”

He was tugging on the lobe of his right ear and staring at their victim. “You know…” he said.

“What?”

“I think this man’s been memory-washed or something.”

“Are you zany? He’s a colonel in their damned Anti-Subversion Ministry. Who’d memory-wash him?”

“How would I know?” he said impatiently,

She jumped to the floor, went back to the desk where her Dolly’s Nurse Kit sat.

“What’re you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing? Giving him a shot of our own memory-wash. What else is there to do? He doesn’t know a thing about the Engelists.”

Horsten, followed by Helen, pushed his way through the door of the penthouse suite and strode on into the living room. He came up abruptly.

“What in the name of Holy Jumping Zen are you doing?” he roared.

Zorro Juarez and Jerry Rhodes looked up. Helen’s hatbox of toys sat next to them on the floor. Zorro was cross-legged before a cocktail table. Jerry stood next to him. On the table was propped one of Helen’s gadget toys, a supposed miniature Tri-Di set. Even at this distance, Horsten and Helen could make out a face on the screen of the device.

Zorro said, “Making a report to Sid Jakes.”

The two newcomers to the scene approached nearer, until the face of the Section G assistant head was clear to their view too.

Jakes grinned at them. “How goes the assignment?”

“It doesn’t,” Horsten growled, after shooting a disapproving glance at his two associates. “We just broke into one of the Firenze ministries devoted to local subversive activities. We put a mucky-muck we found there under Scop.”

“Neat trick.” Sid Jakes grinned. “Why? And what did you find out?”

“Not a damn thing,” Helen snorted. “This is the most underground underground in the history of undergrounds.”

Dorn Horsten looked down into the small screen of the communicator. “So far, we’ve drawn a blank. I assume Zorro’s told you that evidently the Engelists got to the files of agent Bulchand before we were able to discover what, if anything, he had on them.”

“Yes.” Sir Jakes nodded, over the light-years. His usually exuberant voice clouded slightly. “He also told me that everybody and his cousin on Firenze seems familiar with the Dawnworld story.”

Horsten shot another look at Zorro, whose face was registering a certain amount of defiance. The scientist said, I wasn’t in favor of making this report at this time. Evidently Zorro and Jerry have overridden my opinion.”

Sid Jakes pursed his lips. “I doubt if there’s any connection, but we’ve had a complication here on the same matter. I might as well mention it, on the off chance that you’ll turn up something there on Firenze. Be a neat trick if you do. I can’t see any reason to believe…” He let it fade off.