Philip Dick - THE MAN WHO JAPED

"I think we have two points of view here," Mr. Purcell, the moderator, said. "But in any case we agree that Major Streiter did utilize active assimilation early in the postwar years to solve the problem of feeding rural populations and of reducing the numbers of hostile and ‘impossible' elements."

"Yes," Doctor Gleeby said. "By 1997 at least ten thousand ‘impossibles' had been assimilated. And numerous byproducts of economic value were being obtained: glue, gelatins, hides, hair."

"Can we fix a date for the first official assimilation?" Mr. Purcell asked.

"Yes," Professor Sugermann said. "It was May of 1987 that one hundred Russian ‘impossibles' were captured, killed, and then processed by Reclaimers operating in the Ukrainian area. I believe Major Streiter himself divided an ‘impossible' with his family, on the Fourth of July."

"I suppose boiling was the usual processing method," Mr. Priar commented.

"Boiling, and of course, frying. In this case Mrs. Streiter's recipe was used, calling for broiling."

"So the term ‘active assimilation,' " Mr. Purcell said, "can historically be used to encompass any form of killing, cooking, and eating of hostile groups, whether it be by boiling, or frying, or broiling, or baking; in short, any culinary method apropos, with or without the preserving of by-products such as skin, bones, fingernails, for commercial use."

"Exactly," Doctor Gleeby said, nodding. "Although it should be pointed out that the indiscriminate eating of hostile elements without an official—"

Whamp! went the television set, and Mrs. Birmingham sat up with dismay. The image had gone dead; the screen was dark.

The discussion of "active assimilation" had been plunged abruptly off the air.

Allen said: "They cut off our power."

"The lines," Gleeby answered, fumbling around in the darkness of the office. All the lights of the Telemedia building had vanished; the TV transmitter above them was silent, and projection had ceased. "There's emergency generating equipment, independent of city power."

"Takes a lot to run a transmitter," Sugermann said, pulling aside the window blinds and peering out at the evening lanes below. "Getabouts everywhere. Cohorts, I think."

Allen and Gleeby made their way down the stairs to the emergency generators, guided by Allen's cigarette lighter. Gates followed; with him was a technician from the transmitter.

"We can have it back on in ten or fifteen minutes," the TV technician said, inspecting the generator capacities. "But it won't hold. The drain's too great for these; it'll be on for awhile and then—like now."

"Do the best you can," Allen said. He wondered how much of the projection had been understood. "You think we made our Morec?" he asked Sugermann.

"Our un-Morec," Sugermann said. He smiled crookedly. "They were standing by for the point-of-no-return. So we must have made it clear."

"Here goes," Gates said. The generators were on, and now the overhead lights flickered. "Back in business."

"For awhile," Allen said.

The screen of Janet Purcell's television set was small; it was the portable unit that Allen had brought. She lay propped up on the couch in their one-room apartment, waiting for the image to return. Presently it did.

"... . d," Professor Sugermann was saying. The image faded and darkened, then ebbed into distortion. "But broiling was favored, I believe."

"Not according to my information," Doctor Gleeby corrected.

"Our discussion," the moderator, her husband, said, "really concerns the use of active assimilation in the present-day world. Now it has been suggested that active assimilation as a punitive policy be revived to deal with the current wave of anarchy. Would you care to comment on that, Doctor Gleeby?"

"Certainly." Doctor Gleeby knocked dottle from his pipe into the ash tray in the center of the table. "We must remember that active assimilation was primarily a solution to problems of nutrition, not, as is often supposed, a weapon to convert hostile elements. Naturally I'm gravely concerned with the outbreak of violence and vandalism today, as epitomized by this really dreadful japery of the Park statue, but we can scarcely be said to suffer from a nutritional problem. After all, the autofac system—"

"Historically," Professor Sugermann interrupted, "you may have a point, Doctor. But from the standpoint of efficacy: what would be the effects on these present-day ‘impossibles'? Wouldn't the threat of being boiled and eaten act as a deterrent to their hostile impulses? There would be a strong subconscious inhibitory effect, I'm sure."

"To me," Mr. Gates agreed, "it seems that allowing these anti-social individuals merely to run away, hide, take refuge at the Health Resort, has made it far too easy. We've permitted our dissident elements to do their mischief and then escape scot-free. That's certainly encouraged them to expand their activities. Now, if they knew they'd be eaten—"

"It's well known," Mr. Priar said, "that the severity of punitive action doesn't decrease the frequency of a given crime. They once hanged pickpockets, you realize. It had no effect. That's quite an outmoded theory, Mr. Gates."

"But, to get back to the main discussion," the moderator said, "are we certain that no nutritional effects would accrue from the eating, rather than the expulsion, of our criminals? Professor Sugermann, as an historian, can you tell us what the general public attitude was toward the use, in everyday cookery, of boiled enemy?"

On the TV screen appeared a collection of historical relics: six-foot broiling racks, huge human-sized platters, various cutlery. Jars of spices. Immense-pronged forks. Knives. Recipe books.

"It was clearly an art," Professor Sugermann said. "Properly prepared, boiled enemy was a gourmet's delight. We have the Major's own words on this subject." Professor Sugermann, again visible, unfolded his notes. "Toward the end of his life the Major ate only, or nearly only, boiled enemy. It was a great favorite of his wife's, and, as we've said, her recipes are regarded as among the finest extant. E. B. Erickson once estimated that Major Streiter and his immediate family must have personally assimilated at least six hundred fully-grown ‘impossibles.' So there you have the more or less official opinion."

Whamp! the TV screen went, and again the image died. A kaleidoscopic procession of colors, patterns, dots passed rapidly; from the speaker emerged squawks of protest, whines, squeals.

"... a tradition in the Streiter family. The Major's grandson is said to have expressed great preference for..."

Again silence. Then sputters, garbled visual images.

"... so I cannot over-emphasize my support of this program. The effects—" More confusion, sounds and flickers. A sudden roar of static. "... would be an object lesson as well as the contemporary restoration of boiled enemy to its proper place on—"

The TV screen gurgled, died, returned briefly to life.

"... may be the test one way or another. Were there others?"

Allen's voice was heard: "Several, supposedly now being rounded up."

"But they caught the ringleader! And Mrs. Hoyt herself has expressed—"

More interference. The screen showed a news announcer standing at the table with the four participants. Mr. Allen Purcell, the moderator, was examining a news dispatch.

"... assimilation in the actual historic vessels employed by her family. After tasting a carefully-prepared sample of boiled conspirator, Mrs. Ida Pease Hoyt has pronounced the dish ‘highly savory,' and ‘fit to grace the tables of—' "

Again the image died, and this time for good. Within a few moments a mysterious voice, not part of the discussion, became suddenly audible, declaring: