Alfred Bester - The Computer Connection

The Chief got back into his hover, still wordless, and turned up Capsulestrasse. Hillel and I followed. Long Lance came out of the stonework and hissed. I shook my head and he melted again. Hilly nodded in approval. Nothing escapes him. He surveyed the extraction chamber with one sweep, and X-rayed the cryonauts with another. “They only speak music,” I murmured. Hilly nodded and gave them “Hatikvah” while he helped the Chief unload. They loved it. The Chief was silent, probably trying to cope with the unexpected by thinking in bunches. I was silent, too, because I was in a damnable dilemma.

At one point Hilly whispered to me, “Look at this, Guig,” and opened a small box. It contained a dozen steel sewing needles.

“So he’s going to make clothes for them,” I said.

“Not my point. Watch.”

He put the box on the flagged floor. It swung around by itself and aimed at the power cables. Hilly turned it back, let go, and it swung around again.

“That answers the question,” he said.

“What question?”

“The question you haven’t asked yourself yet.”

He saw I wasn’t interested, dropped it, and turned to the Chief. “May we speak words without upsetting your most remarkable creatures?” he asked pleasantly.

“It depends on the music of your voice,” Sequoya answered. “Apparently yours pleases them.”

“Yes. A racial legacy. So does yours, evidently. So we can talk.”

“About what?”

“An appeal. You and your cryonauts are about to make history. You will be remembered forever. Don’t hide down here. Come out into the open and let us help and protect you. You know you can depend on us.”

“No. This mission belongs to me.”

“To be sure. And no one will be permitted to cut into any piece of your credit. It’s all yours.”

“No. I don’t need help.”

“All right, another appeal. Your astonishing symbiosis with the Extro and the electronic network. That must be researched. It’s a giant forward step in evolution. Won’t you let us help you?”

“No.”

“Dr. Guess, you’re making history and yet you seem to be aborting yourself. Why? According to Guig’s reports you’re no longer what you were. Why? Aren’t you in control?”

“N.”

“Are you governed by the Extro?”

“N.”

“Do you govern it?”

“N.”

“It’s like a bad marriage. Does it know you’re hiding down here?”

“Y, but it can’t reach me down here.”

“Doesn’t your hover tattle when you’re up there?”

“A machine’s memory is only as long as the sophistication of its electronics. The hover has awareness of the moment, no more.”

“Existentialist. But the Extro remembers.”

“Y.”

“Is it alive?”

“Tell me what life is and I can answer.”

“I can answer, Dr. Guess. It’s alive through you. Tell me why you’re hiding from your partner down here.”

“Because I’m confused, damn you!” he shouted. The cryos recoiled. “Too much has happened to me and I’m trying to sort it out. I’m having difficulties with my cryos; they keep spooking and I don’t know why. There’s too much I don’t know. For God’s sake, leave me alone!”

“I understand and wilco, but in return you must leave us alone.”

“I told Guig. I have nothing to do with the killings.”

“Then you must stop giving life to the killers.”

“How?”

“Leave this planet. Go beyond transmission.”

“Never. I’ll take cover but I’m damned if I’ll run.”

“Ah. You’re headstrong. It’s the recent elevation. Intoxicating. Guig was like that after Krakatoa, imperious and sulky. It will pass. It must. When it does, come to the Group. Ready, Guig?”

He turned and I followed him out. Sequoya watched us go, looking angry and bewildered and yet stubborn. The cryos chased after us, humming for more ragtime, but they stopped short at the entrance to the chamber. “That’s the question you didn’t ask,” Hillel said. “The energy field holds them here. You’re one rotten inductor, Guig.”

“I’m one rotten everything.”

“That’s a silly self-down. Don’t you know that the Group envies you?”

“For what?”

“Something too many of us have lost.”

“What?”

“Passion. When you lose that you lose your humanity. Where’s Long Lance?”

I hissed and Long Lance appeared.

“I want him to stay, watch, and report,” Hilly said.

I made Sign. “Stay. Watch. Report.”

He made Sign. “Report where?”

“Big canoe.”

He nodded and melted. We got into Hilly’s hover and took off.

“Two things,” I said. “No, three. I must have it out with Nat. I want a conference with the Group. You know where they’re scattered. Collect them.”

“And the third?”

“There can’t be a hit. This brilliant son of a bitch has got to be saved.”

Hilly smiled. “Then there’s nothing to have out with Mrs. Curzon.” He began to hum “Hatikvah.”

“I scraped up all I could on short notice,” Hillel said. “We’re meeting in Retchvic. We can’t be eavesdropped in Iceland.”

“D’you think the Extro network tailed you to them?”

“Barely an outside chance. I used cash only; no ID. Your cash, by the way.”

“Mine?”

“Capo Rip’s. Mrs. Curzon handed it over to me.”

“How much?”

“About a million and a half. I have the balance waiting for you.”

“Who’d you get from the Group?”

“M’bantu, Tosca, Domino, Ampersand, Queenie, Herb Wells, and No-Name.”

“Oh, God! Not that nothing.”

“Then you, of course, myself, and our host, Erik the Red.”

Y. Erik owns most of Greenland and Iceland. He has geyser power and probably owns half the hot springs in this heat-hungry world.

“No Poulos?”

“The Greek’s not coming.”

“More important business?”

“No.”

“You couldn’t get in touch with him?”

“No.”

“That’s not like you, Hilly.”

“No one will ever get in touch with him again.”

“What!”

“He’s dead.”

“What? No. Not Poulos…”

“A Malay kris through the heart.”

I was speechless. At last I stammered, “I — No. Not the Syndicate. No. It couldn’t happen. He’s too brilliant — careful — aware…”

“Not enough for the Rajah.”

“Where did it—”

“Calcutta. Last week.”

“Give me a moment, Hilly…”

“All the time you need.”

When I came below from the deck I washed my mouth and face. I was in control again. “You said a Malay kris. How do you know?”

“Left in his heart.”

“But Malay?”

“A hired assassin. These kinks bind up their putz until they’re in agony and then carry out the holy mission. The local polizei say it was planned like a commando raid, with support, flankers, and backups. God knows how many first-class jimps the Rajah has on his payroll. The Greek must have been closing in on him, and he didn’t stand a chance.”

“If the Rajah can hit the Greek—”

“We’re all as good as dead. How do you feel now? I know because it took me the same way in Calcutta. Have you got the strength to give me your news?”

“I can try,” I said heavily.

“Good man. Go ahead. Gescheft is gescheft. Business is business, and it’s our only salvation.”

“You were R, as usual. There was nothing to have out with Nat. She’s all for stopping our brother and saving him. She just didn’t want to go the hit route. I’ll bring her along to Retchvic.” It was painful, talking.

“Good. And?”

“Long Lance came back to the big canoe day before yesterday. Nothing to report. Sequoya is still down there educating his babies.”