Doppelgangers (33 page)

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Authors: H. F. Heard

BOOK: Doppelgangers
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The boy looked bewildered, so he added, “Your lesson from that is twofold. First, nothing is gained by killing the man who holds a post. As long as you can't destroy the post, something, somebody, must fill it. As long as there are pockets on a billiard table and the balls are running about, balls will be filling the pockets however often you empty them. The second thing is even more welcome to you. Don't you see, the higher you get up the less you are a person, the more you become simply a packet or quantum of energy moving from one engine of expression on into another. Freedom to be one's self, to be a person, to have one's own life and likings and love—that belongs to those who still, and at their level, rightly wish for such things.

“There, that's enough. This story starts with a mass of moral and then turns into a romance or fairy-tale—a sound reversal.” He turned to Alpha. “This young couple are going to marry, of course. That we approve of it is merely that we consent heartily to the Process of Things. So will you be so kind as to do it with a good grace for me? Please set them up in life. Of course, you will remember that though they are still going to enjoy themselves greatly as individuals, they are already beginning to hatch into something else. If reincarnation is true, this is the last time that they will have the boy-and-girl experience—and so probably,” he smiled at them, “it will be at its best, for they are pretty certainly more experienced in it than they can remember.

“You two,” he was again addressing them, “you also, won't forget that, will you? You,” he was looking at the girl, “you mustn't keep him from those other activities, those rightful risks which he must take in this life, for they are the bud-activities, the foetal organs being developed for the life he will live after this. If he is nothing but a lover he will be a creature that has outstayed Life's welcome. Now, before I tell him the first thing that I have for him, the first fine bit of adventure, you, Alpha, tell him if you have a place for him in which he can live this saliently balanced life.”

“Why, of course,” Alpha II smiled. “I remember hearing it said that when you have to steer the ship of state ideas come to you that are going to be far more useful than even you imagine. I have just instituted the order of the Guides. As a wedding present I name you as a lieutenant general of one of the junior corps.”

“Yes, that will do,” the Elevator man remarked, as the boy saluted. “And now, without delay, he can win his spurs. I spoke of my second job. For that I shall need both of you. I came to see Alpha and have enjoyed my visit and will have a good report to make on it. Now, with you two men, I am going to call on the Mole.”

There was a silence in the room; attention which had become general with the increasing feeling that happiness lay ahead, suddenly congealed.

Alpha broke it. “You know, of course, that no one knows him, that some people doubt if there is one man.” Then, glancing across at the boy who was already eyeing him, “Some people have wondered whether there may not be different groups all of which are confused as Mole-workings.”

“Well,” the other blandly replied, “you told me that after I had settled with the young couple I should say where the Mole came in—I say here, and I will prove it.”

“How!”

“You can't get at him—none of us—” The boy paused and flushed.

“You think that I'm just suggesting we walk out, ask a Public Relations and Information Please man where the Mole digs and call him up out of his burrow! No, I have my plan as to how to summon him. And you are my Open Sesames. It's quite simple. Of course you don't know him. Do I know the person who sent me on this mission? Does anyone really know,” and he nodded in the direction of the desk without looking at it, “who actually sits there? As those powerful realists the mathematicians long ago discovered, functions are enough, without bothering about entities.” He stopped. Then, speaking carefully to the boy, “You will need today to send through this message.” He repeated slowly, “‘Have made contact: work completed: can bring forerunner and prize with me: send instructions.' You know you can send that.”

The boy hesitated, actually blushed again, and finally said, “Yes … yes, but—”

“You mean,” the other cut in, “that if there is a highest-up, or, if you like, a lowest-down, he won't see you, no, not you two. Well, trust me for that: he will. If you say you both are bringing the prize with you, and if he is lying as deep down as the sounding would seem to indicate, then he certainly will not let that interview take place through anyone else or with anyone else present.”

“Are you sure?” It was Alpha's voice, with almost a tone of anxiety in it.

“Yes,” was the reply, “the more lonely you are the simpler you become. If there is a single man who has sunk himself at such a depth from human contacts, and the complexities of reactions that such things awake and activate in ordinary men, he will be becoming ever more simple, more predictable. There's not a doubt of it. That message assures that we three—two of us, and maybe the third, being the two or three men he would rather see, and study, alone, than any three men in the whole world—will be granted an unwitnessed interview. Yes,” he added quietly as they still hesitated, “believe me, it will prove as simple as that. I feel sure I know my man.” His voice was grave but not solemn, and a moment later it brightened.

“Now, boy, get about your work.” And to the girl, “You see we are giving him an adventure good enough to keep him quiet and contented for quite a long honeymoon!”

The boy saluted and this time included in the sweep of his hand not only the man at the desk but the small saffron figure which already had sat down with ease and complete lack of ceremony on the floor.

“He is to report back here in twenty-four hours?” Alpha asked.

“You can do it in that?”

“Yes,” said the boy to the man on the floor, “if I get through at all.”

“Oh, never doubt that,” said the floor-sitter. “Moles and we flittermice of the sky have this in common: our reactions are fundamentally the same, we see in the dark, and I know we are going to be seen!”

The boy was well disciplined. Without a look at the girl, he was through the panel, and they could just hear in the silence the muffled purr of the private lift descending.

“That's good,” the saffron man said as the purr faded, “good, that he was able to go even without saying good-by to you. He will stick to you if he has that sort of self-control.”

The girl found hers at his tone of voice. There was certainly a certainty about it that was reassuring. She obeyed then as promptly when told in the same assured way, “Now go, and go to bed. Your life these last few days has made you short of sleep—being drugged is no substitute—and you needn't go into your marriage like a tragedy queen.”

She even smiled at his quip as she followed where the boy had gone. Left alone, Alpha heard his name called.

“Now
we
will go to sleep—and I trust you have learned to sleep when you can and when you wish.”

“There's a small apartment next to this,” Alpha offered.

“I don't need a bed,” the other replied, “but I will sit in any room where I will disturb the routine of your place least.”

When Alpha left him to go to his own bedroom, the saffron figure was seated on the floor looking more calmly settled down than most people when tucked up in their beds. The next morning Alpha worked all the forenoon and his visitor had not called on him. At lunch time he looked into what had been his apartment during those breaking-in days. The saffron figure which was still seated on the floor looked up at him with a smile. Alpha's invitation to a meal was accepted and his guest ate some fruit and drank one of the warm beverages with evident pleasure. He seemed to be fully alive in every way. They were sitting for a few moments in the study after the meal when the notice panel flashed that the visitor who had left yesterday with certification of return was waiting.

The boy was before them in two minutes. He could hardly wait to be questioned.

“You're right,” he said, looking at the saffron figure, “it went through—well, I've never known a message go and come back so quickly—and what's more, we are to report at six-thirty this evening.”

He was almost a little daunted by the advice, “Then we'll all have another rest—and you a real sleep. No: you will stay here, please. You can have the bed I don't use. I shall act as your warder and see that you sleep well. And we two will also take our siestas in our own fashion. We may be up all night. People who haven't really talked for a long time are apt to be loquacious when at last they can.”

He was as good as his word; he led off the boy, made him lie down, and in two minutes made him go to sleep. He then visited Alpha and left him in the same condition as quickly. Finally he went back to his chosen place on the carpet in the small sitting room and settled down into his posture. Gradually a smile spread over his face, a smile that did not break but seemed to smooth all the features into an ever deepening rest. Yet, though he never stirred till the clock's hands on the wall behind him were at five-thirty, as the minute hand hung straight down, he rose without any sign of stiffness, went in and roused the boy, told him to wash, and went himself to call Alpha.

“You will ask,” he said, “that your secretary see that we are passed out through her entrance where there will be a car for us. Also, please provide for me a hooded cloak such as you two will wear.”

The order was given, and five minutes later the three of them slid down in the small lift to the basement level where the cars coming into the palace parked. A car was ready, the boy gave the driver an address and in silence they rode for perhaps half an hour or forty minutes. The saffron-cloaked man was now wrapped in a dark green mantle and had drawn the hood completely over his head.

The car stopped and was dismissed. They crossed a small garden. They might be in the suburbs. The house to which the garden belonged was one of those of that zone, a house for a family of five. These houses were detached. The children needed the fairly large garden. This house, however, was quiet even at this hour and no lights showed. The boy led the way. As they gathered in the porch the door swung open. The boy entered and they followed, hearing the door latch itself behind them.

In the dark within, which was now absolute, a whisper, which had no character of tone about it, said, “The spot of light ahead of you—” they saw a spot begin to glimmer—“is an elevator door. Enter it.”

They groped forward. Alpha was first to get his fingers on the panel and to slide it aside. He felt, he had to own to himself, a small shudder, as he stepped on the trembling, unsteady floor, and could not help a feeling of slight relief as he heard the others step in quietly behind him. He put the panel back in place and almost at once the floor gave under their feet. The descent was certainly swift and long. Certainly, if this was the way to the Mole, he did live according to his lights—very far down. At last, with a slight joggle, the slipping motion stopped.

Alpha heard the door slip back and the boy begin to say, “We should be there,” but his voice was cut short by the same whisper they had heard above, “Straight ahead.”

They stepped along, able to keep their eyes aligned by a single glimmer of a spot light that glowed ahead. Their feet had been on some hard surface, but at a certain point when they were apparently nearer the glow-spot, the floor surface seemed softer.

“Now, stop,” said the whisper, and they heard a door close quietly behind them.

“Well, one of you has been away far longer than is wise,” began the whisper again. “The other has to make a considerably fuller report than he has made; and the third is someone who it is to be hoped is going to stay—but, of course, all three will be staying, and the third, even if it is a case of mistaken identity, will stay …” the whisper paused, not, it seemed out of uncertainty, but rather to be sure of giving emphasis, “… for good.”

Alpha II felt utterly at a loss, the boy was silent.

After a moment then, the whisper went on, “Well, that is all right. Identity is hard to establish in the dark when no assistant can be used. A little light must be thrown on the issue.”

Alpha suddenly realized that this continuation of the whisper must be coming from another spot. There was a longer pause, and then gradually, like a rather sickly dawn, a faint, suffused light began to spread in front of them. A greenish glow was cast up in their faces. He saw the boy's profile to his left and between them the cloaked and hooded figure they had brought with them. And now, across the stand, on which the long shade of the light rested—which he now saw was a desk—he could detect faintly a man's figure.

“Yes,” it was still a whisper but now surely it was coming from the hood, “you will need more light to be sure of the identity.”

And in answer to this the light did glow more strongly. Indeed, it grew so strong that it was possible now to see the whole room, a small room, a dark carpet, a desk, and someone at it. But before he could make out more by deliberate checking over, there was a small movement at his left, and, from the other side of the desk, a quicker one, accompanied by something that was surely a gasp. The saffron man had thrown back his hood; indeed, the cloak had slipped to the floor. He was standing clearly shown in the light; but, more, he was leaning right over it, looking steadily at the figure that was still only dimly seen at the other side of the desk.

And almost at once he began to speak, not loudly but with the greatest emphasis, “Now put on the full lighting.”

The whole room came into full illumination glowing from the walls. It told the onlookers nothing more about this small dugout. But they would not have attended if it had. What held their eyes was what was going on over the desk. The saffron man was leaning forward and had caught the attention—and caught was the exact word—of the figure that sat on the other side of it. For the saffron figure was poised over the desk, like a falcon when it has made its strike and holds its prey. And drawn back in his chair sat a man who should have been the formidable master of the situation.

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