“Shut up!” bellowed Lazarus. “You’re out of order. Nobody’s on trial here and we’ve got no time to waste on spilled milk. Go ahead, Zack.”
“Very well. But I will answer the question to this extent: everyone knows that a proposal to protect our secrets by hypnotic means was voted down at the Meeting which relaxed the ‘Masquerade.’ I seem to recall that the cousin now objecting helped then to vote it down.”
“That is not true! And I insist that–”
“PIPE DOWN!” Lazarus glared at the heckler, then looked him over carefully. “Bud, you strike me as a clear proof that the Foundation should ‘a’ bred for brains instead of age.” Lazarus looked around at the crowd. “Everybody will get his say, but in order as recognized by the chair. If he butts in again, I’m going to gag him with his own teeth-is my ruling sustained?”
There was a murmur of mixed shock and approval; no one objected. Zaccur Barstow went on, “On the advice of Ralph Schultz the trustees have been proceeding quietly for the past three months to persuade revealed Members to undergo hypnotic instruction. We were largely successful.” He paused.
“Make it march, Zack,” Lazarus urged. “Are we covered? Or not?”
“We are not. At least two of our cousins certain to be arrested are not so protected.”
Lazarus shrugged. “That tears it. Kinfolk, the game’s over. One shot in the arm of babble juice and the ‘Masquerade’ is over. It’s a new situation-or will be in a few hours. What do you propose to do about it?”
In the control room of the Antipodes Rocket Wallaby, South Flight, the telecom hummed, went spung! and stuck out a tab like an impudent tongue. The copilot rocked forward in his gymbals, pulled out the message and tore it off.
He read it, then reread it. “Skipper, brace yourself.”
“Trouble?”
“Read it.”
The captain did so, and whistled. “Bloody! I’ve never arrested anybody. I don’t believe I’ve even seen anybody arrested. How do we start?”
“I bow to your superior authority.”
“That so?” the captain said in nettled tones. “Now that you’re through bowing you can tool aft and make the arrest.”
“Uh? That’s not what I meant. You’re the bloke with the authority. I’ll relieve you at the conn.”
“You didn’t read me. I’m delegating the authority. Carry out your orders.”
“Just a moment, Al, I didn’t sign up for–”
“Carry out your orders!”
“Aye aye, sir!”
The copilot went aft. The ship had completed its reentry, was in its long, flat, screaming approach-glide; he was able to walk-he wondered what an arrest in free-fall would be like? Snag him with a butterfly net? He located the passenger by seat check, touched his arm. “Service, sir. There’s been a clerical error. May I see your ticket?”
“Why, certainly.”
“Would you mind stepping back to the reserve stateroom? It’s quieter there and we can both sit down.”
“Not at all.”
Once they were in the private compartment the chief officer asked the passenger to sit down, then looked annoyed. “Stupid of me!-I’ve left my lists in the control room.” He turned and left. As the door slid to behind him, the passenger heard an unexpected click. Suddenly suspicious, he tried the door. It was locked.
Two proctors came for him at Melbourne. As they escorted him through the skyport he could hear remarks from a curious and surprisingly unfriendly crowd: “There’s one of the laddies now!” “Him? My word, he doesn’t look old.” “What price ape glands?” “Don’t stare, Herbert.” “Why not? Not half bad enough for him.”
They took him to the office of the Chief Provost, who invited him to sit down with formal civility. “Now then, sir,” the Provost said with a slight local twang, “if you will help us by letting the orderly make a slight injection in your arm–”
“For what purpose?”
“You want to be socially cooperative, I’m sure. It won’t hurt you.”
“That’s beside the point. I insist on an explanation. I am a citizen of the United States.”
“So you are, but the Federation has concurrent jurisdiction in any member state-and I am acting under its authority. Now bare your arm, please.”