I’ve got to get out of here, he told himself. I’m not going to be a petty, minuscule, cipher-type minion for the Karp Werke — it’ll kill me.
He crushed his non-tobacco cigar out.
Where can I go? He asked himself.
Where? I need help.
Who can I get it from? There was that doctor. That he and Chic had been going to see.
Picking up the phone he signalled Karp’s switchboard operator. ‘Get me Dr Egon Superb,’ he instructed her, ‘that one analyst that’s left.’
After that he sat miserably at his desk, the phone against his ear. Waiting.
Nicole Thibodeaux thought, I’ve got too much to do. I’m attempting to conduct delicate, tricky negotiations with Hermann Goering, I’ve instructed Garth McRae to let the new der Alte contract to a small firm and not to Karp, I have to decide what to do if Richard Kongrosian is ever found again, there’s the McPhearson Act and that last analyst, Dr Superb, and now this. Now the NP’s hasty decision — made without even attempting to consult me or notify me in advance — to move in on Loony Luke’s jalopy lots in dead earnest.
Unhappily, she studied the police order which had gone out to every NP unit throughout the USEA.
This isn’t in our interest, she decided. I can’t afford to attack Luke because I simply can’t get at him. We’ll only look absurd.
And — we’ll look like a totalitarian society. Kept in existence only by our enormous military and police establishments.
Glancing up swiftly at Wilder Pembroke, Nicole said, ‘Have you actually found the lot, yet? The one in San Francisco where you can imagine — merely imagine — Richard is?’
‘No. We haven’t found it yet.’ Pembroke mopped his forehead nervously; quite clearly he was under heavy strain.
‘If there had been time of course I would have consulted you. But once he takes off for Mars — ‘
‘Better to lose him than to move prematurely against Luke!’ She had a good deal of respect for Luke; she had known him, and his operations, for a good long time. She had seen him easily evade the City Police.
‘I have an interesting report from the Karp Werke.’ Obviously Pembroke was now desperately trying to switch the topic under discussion. ‘They’ve decided to penetrate the Frauenzimmer organization in order to — ‘
‘Later.’ Nicole scowled at him. ‘You know now you’ve made a mistake. Really, down underneath, I enjoy those jalopy jungles; they’re amusing. You simply can’t fathom that; you’ve got a cop’s mind. Call your San Francisco unit and tell them to release the lot if they’ve found it. And if they haven’t found it, tell them to give up. Bring them back in and forget about it; when the time arrives to proceed against Luke I’ll tell you.’
‘Harold Slezak agreed — ‘
‘Slezak doesn’t make policy. I’m surprised you didn’t get Rudi Kalbfleisch’s approval on this. That would have been even more like you NP people. I really don’t like you, I find you unsavoury.’ She stared at him until he shrank back.
‘Well?’ she said. ‘Say something.’
With dignity, Pembroke said, ‘They haven’t found the lot, so no harm has been done.’ He flicked on his com system.
‘Give up on the lots,’ he said into it. At this moment he did not look very imposing; he was still perspiring freely.
‘Forget the whole damn thing. Yes, that’s right.’ He clicked the system off and raised his head to face Nicole.
‘You should be busted,’ Nicole said.
‘Anything else, Mrs Thibodeaux?’ Pembroke’s voice was wooden.
‘No. Scram.’
Pembroke with measured, stiff steps, departed.
Looking at her wristwatch, Nicole saw that the time was eight P.M. And what had been planned for this evening? Shortly she would be going on TV with another Visit to the White House, the seventy-fifth of the year. Had Janet lined up anything and if so had Slezak managed to bumble through to an adequate schedule? Probably not.
She walked through the White House to Janet Raimer’s tidy office. ‘Do you have anything spectacular coming along?’ she demanded.
Rattling her notes, Janet frowned and said. ‘One act I’d call truly astonishing — a jug act. Classical. Duncan & Miller; I watched them at The Abraham Lincoln and they’re terrific.’ She smiled hopefully.
Nicole groaned.
‘They really are quite good.’ Janet’s voice was insistent, now. Commanding. ‘It’s relaxing: I’d like you to please give it a try. That’s either for tonight or tomorrow, I’m not certain which Slezak scheduled it for.’
‘Jug acts,’ Nicole said. ‘We’ve gone from Richard Kongrosian to that. I’m beginning to think we should let Bertold Goltz take over. And to think that in the Days of Barbarism they had Kirsten Flagstad to entertain them.’
‘Maybe things will pick up when the next der Alte takes office,’ Janet said.
Regarding her keenly, Nicole said, ‘How is it that you know about that?’
‘Everybody in the White House is talking about it. Anyhow,’ Janet Raimer bristled, ‘I’m a Ge.’
‘How wonderful,’ Nicole said sardonically. ‘Then you must lead a truly delightful life.’
‘May I ask what this next der Alte will be like?’
‘Old,’ Nicole said. Old and tired, she thought to herself. A worn-out stringbean, stiff and formal, full of moralizing speeches; a real leader type who can drum obedience into the Be masses. Who can keep the system creaking along a while longer. And, according to the von Lessinger technicians he will be the final der Alte.
At least, most likely.
And they are not certain quite why. We seem to have a chance but it is a small one. Time, and the dialectic forces of history are on the side of — the worst creature possible. That vulgar buttinski, Bertold Goltz.
However, the future was not fixed and there was always room for the unexpected, the improbable; everyone who had handled von Lessinger equipment understood that … time travel was still merely an art, not an exact science.
‘He will be called,’ Nicole said, ‘Dieter Hogben.’
Janet giggled. ‘Oh no, not actually “Dieter Hogben”, or is it “Hogbein”? What in the world are you trying to achieve?’
‘He will be very dignified,’ Nicole said stiffly.
There was a sudden noise behind her; she turned and found herself facing Wilder Pembroke, the NP man. Pembroke looked agitated but pleased. ‘Mrs Thibodeaux, we’ve caught Richard Kongrosian. As Dr Superb predicted, he was at a jalopy jungle preparing to depart for Mars. Shall we bring him to the White House? The San Francisco squad is waiting for instructions; they’re still at the lot.’
‘I’ll go there,’ Nicole decided, on impulse. And ask him, she said to herself, to give up the idea of emigrating. Voluntarily. I know I can persuade him — we won’t have to resort to blunt force.’
‘He says he’s invisible,’ Pembroke said, as he and Nicole hurried along the White House corridor towards the offtrans field on the roof. ‘The squad however says he appears perfectly visible, at least to them.’
‘Another of his delusions,’ Nicole said. ‘We ought to be able to clear that right up; I’ll tell him he’s visible and that will be that.’
‘And his smell — ‘
‘Oh, the hell with it,’ Nicole said. ‘I’m tired of his ailments. I’m tired of having him pamper himself in his hypochondriacal obsessions. I’m going to toss the entire power and majesty and authority of the state at him, tell him pointblank that he’s got to give his imaginary diseases up.’
‘I wonder what that will do to him,’ Pembroke mused.
‘He’ll comply, of course,’ Nicole said. ‘He won’t have any choice; that’s the whole point — I’m not asking him, I’m going to tell him.’
Pembroke glanced at her, then shrugged.
‘We’ve fooled around with this too long,’ Nicole said.
‘Smell or not, invisible or not, Kongrosian is an employee of the White House; he’s got to appear on schedule and perform, or else. He can’t sneak away to Mars or Franklin Aimes or Jenner or anywhere else.’
‘Yes ma’am,’ Pembroke said hollowly, preoccupied with his own convoluted thoughts.
When Ian Duncan reached Jalopy Jungle Number Three in downtown San Francisco he found that he was too late to warn Al. Because the NP had already arrived; he saw parked police cars and grey-clad NP men swarming over the lot.
‘Let me out here,’ he instructed his auto-cab. He was a block away from the lot; that was close enough.
He paid the cab and then set out, warily, on foot. A small knot of curious passers-by with nothing else to do had formed, and Ian Duncan joined them, rubber-necking at the NP men, pretending to wonder why they were there.
‘What’s up?’ the man next to Ian asked him. ‘I thought they weren’t going to crack down on these jalopy lots yet. I thought — ‘
‘Must be a change in govpol,’ the woman on Ian’s left said.