“Three possibilities?” said Horsip.
“Yes, sir. First, there’s my secret file. Second, there’s my quarters. And third, there’s the Master Control Center Surveillance Cubicle. But the file has a special lock, and I have the only key. My quarters can only be reached by a corridor that’s always guarded by very trustworthy guards. And the Surveillance Cubicle has a special lock, extra trustworthy guards, and a secret camera and recorder that start as soon as anyone enters.” Nokkel looked briefly smug, and then uneasy.
“Why?”
Horsip said, “Don’t turn around, or give any sign, but each time you leave here, three of our men out there get on the phone.”
Nokkel looked shocked, then mad.
“If I could borrow your phone for just a minute, sir? . . . The one that connects up with Internal Security?”
Horsip reached out to the bank of phones, and handed it over.
Nokkel sat back.
“Hello, Groffis. Nokkel speaking. I want special details sent to surround and break into my quarters, the secret file room, and the Control Center Surveillance Cubicle. . . . I don’t care what it makes us look like if there’s no one there. You’ll either carry out that order without delay, or I’ll have you strung up by the heels, my boy, and what will people think of that, eh? . . . That’s better. Now if no one is there, it was just an exercise, but if anyone is there, capture them, and if they resist, shoot them. The main thing is, get them one way or the other.”
Nokkel’s voice, instead of getting louder, stayed at the same level, but seemed to get more intense.
Horsip and Moffis looked approving, then Nokkel handed back the phone, and Horsip hung it up. Nokkel gave a shuddering sigh.
“But I can’t believe that anyone could be in any of those places!”
“Let’s hope not,” said Horsip. “But, in that case, we have the problem of why these three in here are on the phone when you leave.”
“Well,” said Nokkel grimly, “I’ve had plenty of practice lately shaking information out of people, and we can do the same to this bunch. The trouble is, I can get only so far. Even if they’re willing to talk, there’s a limit. These Earthmen apparently have more spies on that one little planet than we have in all the Integral Union. As nearly as I can figure it out, every dot of land down there has a spy system stealing information from everyone else. The result is, they know just how to do it. They’ve had so much practice the thought of it weighs me down. I feel outclassed.”
“Luckily,” said Horsip, “it’s easy to tell the difference between one of them and one of us. Otherwise, they’d be all over the place. Now, as soon as we clear this up, there’s another problem.” Horsip was talking about this when there was a sharp ring, and he turned, to see the little metal flag raised beside the “Internal Security” phone. He took it off its hook, and handed it to Nokkel.
Nokkel listened intently to a voice that squawked excitedly as it ran words together. Finally, whoever was on the other end ran down, and Nokkel said, “All right, lock them all up separately, and get started on the questioning. . . . Yes, I’ll be there, but not right away.” Scowling, Nokkel handed the phone back to Horsip, who hung it up. “Sometimes,” said Nokkel, “I wonder if I should trust him.”
Horsip said, “Exactly my own feeling, Nokkel, about almost everybody in this room. I suggest you go back early, to just find out if you can. Now, here are the names of the three who watched when you went out. It might be a good idea to pick up the lot, as soon as possible. Then, since we’ve got things moving, I think we should search everybody’s quarters while we’re at it, and get a look at anything that seems suspicious.”
“When, sir?”
“As soon as you can get things in order.”
Nokkel shoved back his chair.
Horsip said, “Before you go—what did your men find in your three safe places?”
“Spies,” said Nokkel. As Nokkel went out, the same three members of Horsip’s staff watched alertly, and picked up their phones. Looks of puzzlement, then horror, crossed their faces. Hastily, they hung up. Furtively, they glanced toward Horsip, then busied themselves at their work until Nokkel’s men suddenly came in and dragged them all out.
By that same evening, Horsip was examining a collection of code books, miniature transmitters, propaganda leaflets, instructions for spies, false teeth with poison pellets inside, and numerous copies of The Works of Mao Tse-Tung Translated Into the Centran. Nokkel, obviously suffering from a headache, reported that he had so many prisoners he had run out of jail cells, and had put a lot of them in the same cell, whereupon a ferocious squabble had broken out, with prisoners accusing each other of being “imperialists,” “commie goons,” “revisionists,” “lousy bloodsuckers,” and other names that had so far proved impossible to translate.
The meaning of what was taking place suddenly dawned on Horsip.
The Integral Union was being turned into a battleground for all the conflicting opinions represented on the planet Earth.
And those conflicting opinions had come close to blowing Earth to bits.
That same day, Horsip put his conclusions into a report to the High Council, and grimly braced himself for the reply.
* * *
In the next few days, with a considerably smaller staff, Horsip got the routine moving again, and waited for the High Council to reply to his message.
The High Council took its time about replying. Meanwhile, Horsip’s system for gathering information had gotten into high gear, and the reports flooded in. The trend on the planets became glaringly plain, and the more Horsip saw of it, the less he liked it.
He tossed over to Moffis a report titled “The New Planetary Arms Race—Who’s Ahead?” Moffis tossed back a report headed “Superneonazi Culture on Maphrik II—the Deification of a Racial Hero-Type.”
Moffis groaned and Horsip snarled as he read:
” . . . thus in the launching of the first squadron of this formidable space fleet, the Warrior Hero of Ganfre’s Cult of the Supreme is become the central point d’appui of the Total State. Vowing total conquest of the universe in twenty years, Guide Ganfre was cheered by a crowd of half a million as—”
Horsip looked up, to see a messenger salute, and present a sealed envelope and receipt. Horsip signed, the messenger went out, and Horsip read:
“You and your second-in-command are required to report at the earliest practicable moment, to give your personal assessment of the situation. . . . J. Roggil, Vice-Chairman, the High Council.”
“At last,” said Horsip. “Here, Moffis, read this.”
Moffis growled, “One of these reports at a time is enough.”
“No, Moffis. The message.”
“What message?”
“Here.”
“Ah, I thought it was another report. Let’s see . . . good! Good! Now maybe we can get some action!”
“Phew!” said Horsip. ” ‘Ganfre’s Cult of the Supreme,’ ‘Moggil’s Totalization of the State,’ ‘The Free Life on Qantros III,’ ‘The Dictatorship of the Proletariat on Gengrak IV,’ ‘Maximedimastercare Programs on Stulbos VI’—if I never see another of these things, that will be soon enough.”
“Too soon,” said Moffis. “I hope the Council is satisfied we have the Earthmen spread out enough by now.”
“Moffis,” said Horsip fervently, “when we get through describing this mess, I’ll be surprised if the High Council doesn’t squash some of these maniacs before the day is out.”
* * *
The trip to report to the High Council took longer than Horsip or Moffis had expected. The High Council was in the far end of the Centran system, well beyond the line of demarcation of the Sealed Zone. In getting there, the contraction of time known to the Centrans by experience, and predicted in theory by the Earth mathematician Einstein, came strongly into effect. While the trip seemed long enough to them, from the viewpoint of a person back at their headquarters, far more time had passed. But, finally the trip was over.
This time, the whole Council listened as Horsip and Moffis, in turn, gave their reports, and answered questions, and Horsip summed up:
“The Earthmen have split up, as expected, but instead of quietly supplying useful leavening for our own people, they have converted large numbers of them to their viewpoints. Now, this might not be too bad if only successful Earth viewpoints were put in action. Instead, every collection of fanatical believers has settled a planet of their own, and converted the populace to their own ideas. We now have all kinds of fanatics, all over the place. We’re overrun with spies, dictators, weird philosophies, and little space fleets turning into big space fleets.
“These Earthmen are brilliant, but they have a capacity for being one-sided such as no Centran ever dreamed of. They can take a philosophy that’s insane on the face of it, and make it work—for a while, anyway.