Philip Dick - Vulcan's Hammer

Once again, Barris noticed, the man had lost his regional accent. And his vocabulary, his use of words, had in this period of stress, greatly improved.

Marion Fields piped, "It's not true! My father founded the Movement." Her eyes blazed with helpless, baffled fury at Barris. "I wish I hadn't brought you here."

"What evidence do you have?" Fields said.

"I saw the skill with which you rebuilt that ruined ham­mer," Barris said. "It amounted to mechanical genius on your part. With ability like that you could name your own job with Unity; there're no repairmen on my staff in New York capable of work like that. The normal use Unity would put you to with such ability would be servicing the Vulcan series. Obviously you know nothing about Vulcan 3- and Vulcan 3 is self-servicing. What else does that leave but the older computers? And Vulcan 1 hasn't func­tioned in decades. And your age is such that, like Jason Dill, you would naturally have been a contemporary of Vulcan 2 rather-"

"Conjecture," Fields said.

"Yes," Barris admitted.

"Logic. Deduction. Based on the spurious premise that

I had anything to do with any of the Vulcan series. Did it ever occur to you that there might have been alternate computers, designed by someone other than Nat Green-street, that competent crews might have been put to work at-"

From behind Barris a voice, a woman's voice, said sharply, "Tell him the truth, Father. Don't lie, for once."

Rachel Pitt came around to stand by Barris. Astonished to see her, Barris started to his feet.

"My two daughters," Fields said. He put his hand on Marion Fields' shoulder, and then, after a pause, he put his other hand on the shoulder of Rachel Pitt. "Marion and Rachel," he said to Barris. "The younger stayed with me, was loyal to me; the older had ambitions to marry a Unity man and live a well-to-do life with all the things that money can buy. She started to come back to me a couple of times. But did you really come back?" He gazed medi­tatively at Rachel Pitt. "I wonder. It doesn't sound like it."

Rachel said, "I'm loyal to you, Father. I just can't stand any more lies."

"I am telling the truth," Father Fields said in a harsh, bitter voice. "Barris accuses me of destroying Vulcan 2 to keep Jason Dill from knowing about the relationship be­tween the old computer and the Movement. Do you think I care about Jason Dill? Did it ever matter what he knew? I destroyed Vulcan 2 because it wasn't running the Move­ment effectively; it was holding the Movement back, keep­ing it weak. It wanted the Movement to be nothing but an extension of itself, like those hammers of Vulcan 3. An instrument without life of its own."

His voice had gained power; his jaw jutted out and he confronted Barris and Rachel defiantly. The two of them moved involuntarily away from him, and closer to each other. Only Marion Fields remained with him.

"I freed the Movement," Fields said. "I freed humanity and made the Movement an instrument of human needs, human aspirations. Is that wicked?" He pointed his finger at Barris and shouted, "And before I'm finished I'm going to destroy Vulcan 3 as well, and free mankind from it, too. From both of them, first the older one and next the big one, the new one. Is that wrong? Are you opposed to that? If you are, then god damn it, go join them at the fortress; go join Reynolds."

Barris said, "It's a noble ideal, what you're saying. But you can't do it. It's impossible. Unless I help you."

Hunched forward in his chair, Father Fields said, "All right, Barris. You came here to do business. What's your deal?" Raising his head he said hoarsely, "What do you have to offer me?"

Barris said, "I know where the fortress is. I've been to it. Dill took me there. I can find it again. Without me, you'll never find it. At least, not in time; not before Vul­can 3 has developed such far-reaching offensive weapons that nothing will remain of life above ground."

"You don't think we'll find it?" Fields said.

"In fifteen months," Barris said, "you've failed to. Do you think you will in the next two weeks?"

Presently Father Fields said, "More like two years. We started looking from the very start." He shrugged. "Well, Director. What do you want in exchange?"

"Plenty," Barris said grimly. "I'll try to outline it as briefly as I can."

After Barris had finished, Father Fields was silent. "You want a lot," he said finally.

"That's right."

"It's incredible, you dictating terms to me. How many in your group?"

"Five or six."

Fields shook his head. "And there are millions of us, all over the world." From his pocket he produced a much-folded map; spreading it out on the counter he said, "We've taken over in America, in Eastern Europe, in all of Asia and Africa. It seemed only a question of time before we had the rest. We've been winning so steadily." He clenched his fist around a coffee mug on the counter and then suddenly grabbed it up and hurled it to the floor. The brown coffee oozed thickly out.

"Even if you did have sufficient time on your side," Barris said, "I doubt if you could ultimately have defeated Unity. It's hopeless to imagine that a grass-roots revolu­tionary movement can overthrow a modern bureaucratic system that's backed up with modern technology and elaborate industrial organization. A hundred years ago, your Movement might have worked. But times have changed. Government is a science conducted by trained experts."

Studying him with animosity, Fields said, "To win, you have to be on the inside."

"You have to know someone on the inside," Barris said. "And you do; you know me. I can get you in, where you will be able to attack the main trunk, not merely the branches."

"And the trunk," Fields said, "is Vulcan 3. Give us credit for knowing that, at least. That thing has always been our target." He let out his breath raggedly. "All right, Barris; I agree to your terms."

Barris felt himself relax. But he kept his expression under control. "Fine," he said.

"You're surprised, aren't you?" Fields said.

"No," he said. "Relieved. I thought possibly you might fail to see how precarious your position is."

Bringing forth a pocket watch, Fields examined it. "What do you want for the attack on the fortress? Weap­ons are still in short supply with us. We're mainly oriented around man power."

"There are weapons back at Geneva."

"How about transportation?"

"We have three high-speed military cruisers; they'll do." Barris wrote rapidly on a piece of paper. "A small concen­trated attack by skillful men-experts hitting at the vital center. A hundred well-chosen men will do. Everything de­pends on the first ten minutes in the fortress; if we succeed, it'll be right away. There will be no second chance."

Fields gazed at him intently. "Barris, do you really think we have a chance? Can we really get to Vulcan 3?" His grease-stained hands twisted. "For years I've thought of nothing else. Smashing that satanic mass of parts and tubes-"

"We'll get to him," Barris said.

Fields collected the men that Barris needed. They were loaded into the cruiser, and Barris at once headed back to­ward Geneva, Fields accompanying him.

Halfway across the Atlantic they passed an immense swarm of hammers streaking toward helpless, undefended North America. These were quite large, almost as large as the cruiser. They moved with incredible speed, disappear­ing almost at once. A few minutes later a new horde ap­peared, these like slender needles. They ignored the ship and followed the first group over the horizon.

"New types," Barris said. "He's wasting no time."

The Unity Control Building was still in friendly hands. They landed on the roof and hurried down the ramps into the building. On orders from Fields, the Healers had ceased attacking. But now hammers swarmed constantly overhead, diving down and twisting agilely to avoid the roof guns. Half of the main structure was in ruins, but the guns fired on, bringing down the hammers when they came too close.