On the other hand, would a skilled cowhand have destroyed a well-trained workhorse in favor of an untried, strange mount? That may have been why I was hidden and saved—or perhaps I don’t know what I am talking about; what does a bee know about Beethoven?
After a time the city was “secured” and my master started taking me out on the streets. I do not mean to say that every inhabitant of the city wore a hump—no, not by more than 99 percent; the humans were very numerous and the masters still very few—but the key positions in the city were all held by our own recruits, from the cop on the comer to the mayor and the chief of police, not forgetting ward bosses, church ministers, board members, and any and all who were concerned with public communications and news. The vast majority continued with their usual affairs, not only undisturbed by the masquerade but unaware that anything had happened.
Unless, of course, one of them happened to be in the way of some purpose of a master—in which case he was disposed of to shut his mouth. This used up potential hosts but there was no need to be economical.
One of the disadvantages we worked under in serving our masters—or perhaps I should say one of the disadvantages our masters worked under—was the difficulty of long-distance communication. It was limited to what human hosts could say in human speech over ordinary communication channels, and was further limited, unless the channel was secured throughout, to conventionalized code messages such as the one I had sent ordering the first two shipments of masters. Oh, no doubt the masters could communicate ship-to-ship and probably ship-to-home-base, but there was no ship nearby; this city had been stormed as a prize-of-opportunity, as a direct result of my raid on Des Moines in my previous life.
Such communication through servants was almost certainly not adequate to the purposes of the masters; they seemed to need frequent direct body-to-body conference to coordinate their actions. I am no expert in exotic psychologies; some of those who are maintain that the parasites are not discrete individuals, but cells of a larger organism, in which case—but why go on? They seemed to need direct-contact conferences.
I was sent to New Orleans for such a conference.
I did not know I was going. I went out on the street as usual one morning, then went to the uptown launching platform and ordered a cab. Cabs were scarce; I thought about moving over to the other side and catching the public shuttle but the thought was immediately suppressed. After a considerable wait my cab was lifted to the loading ramp and I started to get in—I say “started to” as an old gentleman hustled up and climbed into it ahead of me.
I received an order to dispose of him, which order was immediately countermanded by one telling me to go slow and be careful, as if even the masters were not always sure of themselves. I said, “Excuse me, sir, but this cab is taken.”
“Quite,” the elderly man replied. “I’ve taken it.” He was a picture of self-importance, from briefcase to dictatorial manner. He could easily have been a member of the Constitution Club, but he was not one of our own, as my master knew and told me.
“You will have to find another,” I said reasonably. “Let’s see your queue ticket.” I had taken my ticket from the rack as soon as I reached the platform; the cab carried the launching number shown by my ticket.
I had him, but he did not stir. “Where are you going?” he demanded.
“New Orleans,” I answered and learned for the first time my destination.
“Then you can drop me off in Memphis.”
I shook my head. “It’s out of my way.”
“All of fifteen minutes!” He seemed to have difficulty controlling his temper, as if he were not often crossed. “You, sir, must know the rules about sharing cabs in these days of shortages. You cannot preempt a public vehicle unreasonably.” He turned from me. “Driver! Explain to this person the rules.”
The driver stopped picking his teeth just long enough to say, “It’s nothing to me. I pick ’em up, I take ’em, I drop ’em. Settle it between yourselves or I’ll ask the dispatcher for another fare.”