John Brunner – Jagged Orbit

That would be a way to make her talent work for, instead of against him: fouling up the ultra-complex computer.

But he couldn’t convince himself. He could only put up with the ghost of the suspicion that it might have happened like that

Voigt said with new briskness, “Well, that leaves just one further point, Mr. Flamen, apart from congrayou on the restoration of your show to normal as of Monday next. Will you-ah-will you be willing to continue working in collaboration with Mr. Diablo? I sounded him out informally and he says he’s prepared to if you are. For some reason, in spite of the deposition of Mayor Black-”

“Him too?”

“You really have been hiding from the news, Mr. FlaVoigt said with frank astonishment. “Yes, Mayor Black was found mentally unfit for office yesterday afternoon. But I’m waiting for my answer.”

“Yes, I’d like to,” Flamen said firmly. “I’ve been watchhis work while talking to you. I like it. He’s very damned good. Why doesn’t he want to go home, though, if Mayor Black is being slung out?”

“There’s been some-ah-friction in kneeblank circles recently,” Voigt said. “It may possibly stem from Mayor Black’s invitation of Uys into the country. However that may be, we are no longer troubled by the presence of Morton Lenigo, thank goodness.”

Flamen put his hand giddily to his head. “I feel as though I haven’t even blinked, and the world is a difplace!”

“It is,” Voigt said with unexpected sternness. “We have had a week’s relief from something I’d long hoped you might find the courage to attack.”

“What?”

“Gottschalk propaganda. I’d hardly have believed, myhow efficient they had made it by now, had they not found themselves directly involved in communicalast weekend, and had I not been able to slap inon them to conform with the Charter which forbids corporations controlling public-service vu-transfacilities to employ them for the promotion of their own products. I don’t know how long it will stick, but. Mr. Flamen, may I do something illegal, unand entirely personal? May I ask you to return the small favor I’ve been able to do you by devoting as much time as possible on your show from now on to detailed analysis of Gottschalk techniques for fomenting discontent, hatred and suspicion?”

It was the first time in all their long acquaintance that Flamen had seen Voigt display such emotion. He was almost shaking.

“I can stall them for weeks at least, perhaps months, before they can break out of their obligations and sell their holding in Holocosmic. Until that time, we have a chance to fight back.”

“But they’ll still be my employers!”

“They’ll have to swallow anything you choose to put on the beams. The Charter also says that no news pro-and yours counts as a news program-shall be censored because the owners of the network wish to protect an advertiser from unfavorable publicity conwith his products or services.” Voigt grinned like a fat cat. “We can switch from one to the other argument faster than they can follow us, Mr. Flamen. I’ve had it comped, and it will work. So perhaps you’ll perform the-ah-public service I suggested?”

“Yes,” Flamen said fervently.

“Thank you, very much indeed. I-Why, Mrs. FlaVoigt’s eyes widened, and in the same moment Flamen realized Celia had got off her lounge and come to stand silently at his elbow. “We haven’t met in ages. I’m delighted to learn of your recovery.”

“You haven’t learned the half of it,” Flamen said, and put his arm around his wife’s waist.

“Perhaps the rest is-ah-not for publication?” Voigt said. He cocked one bushy eyebrow. “Well, I’ll go back to my own personal problems now and stop bothering you. And once again my thanks for falling in with the suggestion I made.”

“What suggestion?” Celia said as the screen cleared. “I was half-dozing, I’m afraid. I didn’t hear much of what you were saying.”

“I’m back in business!” Flamen said exultantly. “And what’s more I’ve got the chance to torpedo those bastards who tried to lose me. Believe me”-he clenched his fists

-“I’m going to see them go the same way as Mogshack and Mayor Black!”

far from being extraordinary, the idiot savant who can perform remarkable feats of mentation without knowing either how he does them or what the conare likely to be is excessively typical of the speMAN

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