Alfred Bester - The Demolished Man

"Swallow them," he said crisply. "I want you to pull yourself together and listen to me. Do you want Butylene? Thyric Acid? Can you compose yourself without drugs?"

Reich choked on the brandy and sputtered angrily. Powell shook him silent.

"Get this straight," Powell said. "I'm going to show you half the pattern. Try to understand it. The case against you is closed. It's closed because of those booby-traps. If I'd known about them I'd never have started the case. I'd have broken my conditioning and killed you. Try to understand this, Reich..."

Reich stopped sputtering.

"I couldn't find a motive for your murder. That's the flaw. When you offered merger to D'Courtney, he accepted. He sent WWHG in answer. That's acceptance. You had no reason to murder him. You had every objective reason to keep him alive."

Reich went white. His head began to wobble crazily. "No. No. WWHG. Offer refused. Refusal. Refusal!"

"Acceptance."

"No. The bastard refused. He---"

"He accepted. When I learned that D'Courtney accepted your offer, I was finished. I knew I couldn't bring a case to court. But I haven't been trying to booby-trap you. I did not gaff your stateroom lock. I did not plant those Detonation Bulbs. I'm not the man who's trying to murder you. That man is trying to kill you because he knows you're safe from me. He knows you're safe from Demolition. He's always known what I've just discovered... that you're the deadly enemy of our entire future."

Reich tried to speak. He struggled up out of the sofa, gesticulating feebly. Finally he said: "Who is it? Who? Who?"

"He's your ancient enemy, Reich... A man you'll never escape. You'll never be able to run from him... hide from him... and I pray to God you'll never be able to save yourself from him."

"Who is it, Powell? WHO IS IT?"

"The Man With No Face."

Reich emitted a guttural cry of pain. Then he turned and staggered out

of the house.

Tension, apprehension, and dissension have begun.

Tension, apprehension, and dissension have begun.

Tension, apprehension, and dissension have begun.

Tension, apprehension, and dissension have begun.

"Shut up!" Reich cried.

Eight, sir;

Seven, sir;

Six, sir;

Five, Sir;

"For God's sake! Shut up!"

Four, Sir;

Three, sir;

Two, sir;

One!

"You've got to think. Why don't you think? What's happened to you? Why

don't you think?" Tension, apprehension and--- "He was lying. You know he was lying. You were right the first time. A

giant booby-trap. WWHG. Refusal. Refusal. But why did he lie? How is that going to help him?" ---dissension have begun.

"The Man with No Face. Breen could have told him. Gus Tate could have

told him. Think!" Tension--- "There is no Man With No Face. It's just a dream. A nightmare!" Apprehension--- "But the booby-traps? What about the booby-traps? He had me cold in

his house. Why didn't he pull the switch? Telling me I'm free. What's he up

to? Think!" Dissension---A hand touched his shoulder. "Mr. Reich?" "What?" "Mr. Reich!" "What? Who's that?" Reich's eyes focussed. He became aware that it was raining heavily. He

was lying on his side, knees drawn up, arms folded, his cheek buried in mud. He was drenched, shivering with cold. He was in the esplanade of Bomb Inlet. Around him were sighing, sodden trees. A figure was bending over him.

"Who are you?"

"Galen Chervil, Mr. Reich."

"What?"

"Galen Chervil, sir. From Maria Beaumont's party. Can I do you that

favor, Mr. Reich?" "Don't peep me!" Reich cried. "I'm not, Mr. Reich. We don't usually---" Young Chervil caught

himself. "I didn't know you knew I was a peeper. You'd better get up, sir."

He took Reich's arm and pulled. Reich groaned and yanked his arm free. Young Chervil took him under the shoulders and raised him, staring at Reich's frightful appearance.

"Were you mugged, Mr. Reich?"

"What? No. No..."

"Accident, sir?"

"No. No, I... Oh, for God's sake," Reich burst out, "get the hell away

from me!" "Certainly, sir. I thought you needed help and I owe you a favor, but---"

"Wait," Reich interrupted. "Come back." He rasped the bole of a tree and leaned against it, panting hoarsely. Finally he thrust himself erect and glared at Chervil with bloodshot eyes. "You mean that about the favor?"

"Of course, Mr. Reich."

"No questions asked. No tales told?"

"Certainly not, Mr. Reich."

"My problem's murder, Chervil. I want to find out who's trying to kill

me. Will you do me that favor? Will you peep someone for me?" "I should imagine the police would be able to---" "The police?" Reich laughed hysterically, then clutched himself in

agony as the broken rib caught

"I want you to peep a cop for me. Chervil. A big cop. The Commissioner of cops. D'you understand?" He let go of the tree and lurched to Chervil. "I want to visit my friend the Commissioner and ask him a few questions. I want you to be there to tell me the truth. Will you come to Crabbe's office and peep him for me? Will you just do it and forget about it? Will you?"

"Yes, Mr. Reich...I will."

"What? An honest peeper! How about that? Come on. Let's jet."

Reich stumbled out of the esplanade with a horrible gait. Chervil

followed, overwhelmed by the fury in the man that drove him through injury, through fever, through agony to police headquarters. There, Reich hulled and roared past clerks and guards until the mud-streaked blood-smeared figure burst into Commissioner Crabbe's elaborate ebony and silver office.

"My God, Reich!" Crabbe was aghast. "It is you, isn't it? Ben Reich?"

"Sit down, Chervil," Reich said. He turned to Crabbe. "It's me. Get a full perspective. I'm half a corpse, Crabbe. The red stuff is blood. The rest is slime. I've had a great day... a glorious day... and I want to know where the hell the police have been? Where's your God Almighty Prefect Powell? Where's your---"

"Half a corpse? What are you telling me, Ben?"

"I'm telling you that I was almost murdered three times today. This

boy..." Reich pointed to Chervil. "This boy just found me in the Inlet Esplanade more dead than alive. Look at me, for Christ's sake. Look at me!"

"Murdered!" Crabbe thumped his desk emphatically. "Of course. That Powell is a fool. I should never have listened to him. The man who killed D'Courtney is trying to kill you."

Behind his back, Reich motioned savagely to Chervil.

"I told Powell you were innocent. He wouldn't listen to me," Crabbe said. "Even when that infernal adding machine in the District Attorney's office told him you were innocent, he wouldn't listen."

"The machine said I was innocent?"

"Of course it did. There's no case against you. There never was a case against you. And by the sacred Bill of Rights, you'll have the protection from the murderer that any honest law-abiding citizen deserves. I'll see to that at once," Crabbe strode to the door. "And I think this is all I'll need to settle Mr. Powell's hash for good! Don't go, Ben. I want to talk to you about your support for the Solar Senatorship..."

The door opened and slammed. Reich reeled and fought his way back to

the world. He looked at three Chervils. "Well?" he muttered. "Well?" "He's telling the truth, Mr. Reich." "About me? About Powell?" "Well..." Chervil paused judiciously, weighing the truth. "Jet, you bastard," Reich groaned. "How long do you think I can keep

my fuses from blowing."

"He's telling the truth about you," Chervil said quickly. "The Prosecution Computer has declined to authorize any action against you for the D'Courtney murder. Mr. Powell has been forced to abandon the case and... well... his career is very much in jeopardy."

"Is that true!" Reich staggered to the boy and seized his shoulders. "Is that true, Chervil? I've been cleared? I can go about my business? No one's going to bother me?"