“Special decree: The manufacture of pseudopeople will stop at once. All so-called artificial people and/or living artifacts will hold themselves ready to surrender to the nearest reform authority when notified. During the interim, while plans are being prepared for these quasi-people to live out their lives without further harm to people and under circumstances that no longer create unfair competition, these creatures will continue to work but will remain indoors at all other times.
“Except in the following circumstances, local authorities are forbidden to kill these-”
The announcement broke off. Then a face appeared on the screen-male, sweaty, and troubled. “I’m Sergeant Malloy speaking for Chief Henderson. No more of these subversive broadcasts will be permitted. Regular programming will resume. But stay with this channel for emergency announcements.” He sighed. “It’s a bad time, neighbors. Do be patient.”
XII
Georges said, “There you have it, my dears. Pick one. A theocracy ruled by witchburners. Or a fascist socialism designed by retarded schoolboys. Or a crowd of hard-boiled pragmatists who favor shooting the horse that misses the hurdle. Step right up! Only one to a customer.”
“Stop it, Georges,” Ian told him. “It’s no joking matter.”
“Brother, I am not joking; I am weeping. One gang plans to shoot me on sight, another merely outlaws my art and profession, while the third by threatening without specifying is, so it seems to me, even more to be dreaded. Meanwhile, lest I find comfort simply in physical sanctuary, this beneficent government, my lifetime alma mater, declares me enemy alien fit only to be penned. What shall I do? Joke? Or drip tears on your neck?”
“You can stop being so goddam Gallic, that’s what you can do. The world is going crazy right in our lap. We had better start thinking about what we can do about it.”
“Stop it, both of you,” Janet said firmly but gently. “One thing every woman knows but few men ever learn is that there are times when the only wise action is not to act but to wait. I know you two. Both of you would like to run down to the recruiting office, enlist for the duration, and thereby turn your consciences over to the sergeants. This served your fathers and grandfathers and I am truly sorry that it can’t serve you. Our country is in danger and with it our way of life, that’s clear. But if anyone knows of anything better to do than to sit tight and wait, let him speak up. If not . . . let’s not run in circles. It is approaching what should be lunchtime. Can anyone think of anything better to do?”
“We had a very late breakfast.”
“And we’ll have a late lunch. Once you see it on the table, you’ll eat, and so will Georges. One thing we can do: Just in case things get rougher than they are now, Marj should know where to go for bomb protection.”
“Or whatever.”
“Or whatever. Yes, Ian. Such as police looking for enemy aliens. Have you two big brave men considered what to do in case they come a-knocking at our door?”
“I had thought of that,” Georges answered. “First you surrender Marj to the Cossacks. That will distract them and thereby give me time to get far, far away. That’s one plan.”
“So it is,” agreed Janet. “But you imply that you have another?”
“Not with the simple elegance of that one. But, for what it is, here is a second plan. I surrender myself to the Gestapo, a test case to determine whether or not I, a distinguished guest and reliable taxpayer who has never failed to contribute to the police welfare fund and to the firemen’s ball, can in fact be locked up for no reason whatever. While I am sacrificing myself for a principle, Marj can duck into the hidey-hole and lie doggo. They don’t know that she is here. Regrettably they do know that I am here. ‘It is a far, far better thing-‘
“Don’t be noble, dear; it doesn’t suit you. We’ll combine the two plans. If- No, when- When they come looking for either one or both of you, you both duck into the shelter and stay there as long as necessary. Days. Weeks. Whatever.”