“I’ve never voted in my life, Citizen Lemba,” Lacey interjected, hunching a little as he sat. “And I couldn’t vote in this region if I wanted to.”
Lemba blinked, Arcadio smiled for the first time, and even Kuhn’s eyes had briefly less of hatred in them than before. She must have seen his life stats, Lacey thought. Couldn’t expect her to like them.
“The problem, citizen,” Lemba continued in less rounded tones, “is that some of those who have gone Underground are scientists of international reputation. One of them—” a head formed in a projection sphere over the desk on which Lacey was sitting. The Southerner stood and walked back a few steps to where he had a good view of a balding, white-haired man with a look as sour as Kuhn’s—”Dr. Jerry Swoboda, seems to have built a fusion powerplant down there.”
The Chief Commissioner took a deep breath, more as a rhetorical device than from any onset of emotion. “I don’t have to tell you how dangerous fusion power is. Environmental groups and the State Regulatory Board shut off even research on it two decades ago. And I don’t have to tell you how many innocent men, women and children would die horribly in the event such a plant failed beneath the City.
“Will die. Unless the plant is shut down and destroyed, and Dr. Swoboda and his associates are—” Lemba looked up at one of the room’s scanners, still operating even though its output was restricted—”prevented from building another such death machine. Central Records says you are the best man to carry out this crucial mission.”
Lacey filled his cheeks, then puffed the air out glumly. “Do the data banks give any reason why I’d want to carry out your ‘mission’?” he asked.
“How about ten million lives, citizen?” Commissioner Kuhn snapped. Her irises had been dyed to match her hair and clothing. “Or don’t you care about lives?”
Lacey met her glare. It did not bother him—as Lemba’s growing smile did. “Look, it’s not something we can argue about,” the Southerner said in a reasonable voice. “You want to save them, then you go down and save them. Myself, I can live the rest of my life without your City. I’ve lived the past fifteen years without things that were a lot more impor—”
Lacey’s voice died. He turned again to face Lemba. “You son of a bitch,” he said to the commissioner in awe. “You knew I wouldn’t be able to go down there without being able to touch women. . . .”
“What a Psycomp did, a Psycomp can undo,” Lemba agreed in satisfaction. “Your psyche, Citizen Lacey, isn’t the sort of thing that everyone would care to own. Still, I thought that in exchange for our unblocking it again, you’d be willing to do the City a little service.”
Commissioner Kuhn was standing, her face flushed in ugly contrast to her clothes. “It’s bad enough a man like this still walks the earth!” she shouted at Lemba. “Did you see what he did to get wet-scrubbed? You’re not going to turn him loose the way he was before!”
Arcadio interrupted her for the first time. “What happened fifteen years ago doesn’t matter,” he said. “What’s important is what is going to happen right here if we don’t act promptly.”
“Citizen Kuhn,” Lacey said.
She whirled on him, mouth opening to rasp insults; but ungoverned behavior had not brought her to a commissionership. She waited for Lacey to speak.
“I’m not, I won’t be, the guy I was before they . . . wet-scrubbed me,” the Southerner said. His hands were locked tightly together. “I don’t say I’m any better; but I’m not as young. I won’t risk my—mind—on another gesture. Unless the gesture is more important than I ever expect anything to be again.”
Kuhn looked at Lacey in disgust, then looked back at Lemba. “I won’t argue with two votes,” she spat. “But if he comes back alive, it’s on your consciences. And it’s up to you to explain to the female voters of this City.”
Kuhn walked out of the meeting room, letting the door bang to behind her. Lemba beamed at the standing agent and said, “Dr. Kabiliak is waiting on Level 3 with a Psycomp team—I rather suspected you were going to volunteer. We’ll prepare everything else you’ll need during the three days you’re in the tank. We need to hurry on with this, you know.” The Chief Commissioner chuckled.