Revolt in 2100 Part 3

Judith had already been given hypnotic instructions which-it was hoped-would enable her to keep from telling what little she already new if she should be put to the Question. I was told to wait and not to worry; the senior brothers would arrange to get Judith out of danger before she next was required to draw lots. I had to be satisfied with that.

For three days running Zebadiah and I reported during the afternoon recreation period for instruction, each time being taken by a different route and with different precautions. It was clear that the architect who had designed the Palace had been one of us; the enormous building had hidden in it traps and pa.s.sages and doors which certainly did not appear in the official plans.

At the end of the third day we were fully accredited senior brethren, qualified with a speed possible only in time of crisis. The effort almost sprained my brain; I had to bone harder than I ever had needed to in school. Utter letter-perfection was required and there was an amazing lot to memorize-which was perhaps just as well, for it helped to keep me from worrying. We had not heard so much as a rumor of a kick-back from the disappearance of Snotty Fa.s.sett, a fact much more ominous than would have been a formal investigation.

A security officer can't just drop out of sight without his pa.s.sing being noticed. It was remotely possible that Snotty had been on a roving a.s.signment and was not expected to check in daily with his boss, but it was much more likely that he had been where we had found him and killed him because some one of us was suspected and he had been ordered to shadow. If that was the case, the calm silence could only mean that the chief security officer was letting us have more rope, while his psychotechnicians a.n.a.lyzed our behavior-in which case the absence of Zeb and myself from any known location during our free time for several days running was almost certainly a datum entered on a chart. If the entire regiment started out equally suspect, then our personal indices each gained a fractional point each of those days.

I never boned savvy in such matters and would undoubtedly have simply felt relieved as the days pa.s.sed with no overt trouble had it not been that the matter was discussed and worried over in the lodge room. I did not even know the name of the Guardian of Morals, nor even the location of his security office-we weren't supposed to know. I knew that he existed and that he reported to the Grand Inquisitor and perhaps to the Prophet himself but that was all. I discovered that my lodge brothers, despite the almost incredible penetration of the Cabal throughout the Temple and Palace, knew hardly more than I did-for the reason that we had no brothers, not one, in the staff of the Guardian of Morals. The reason was simple; the Cabal was every bit as careful in evaluating the character, persona, and psychological potentialities of a prospective brother as the service was in measuring a prospective intelligence officer-and the two types were as unlike as geese and goats. The Guardian would never accept the type of personality who would be attracted by the ideals of the Cabal; my brothers would never pa.s.s a-well, a man like Fa.s.sett.

I understand that, in the days before psychological measurement had become a mathematical science, an espionage apparatus could break down through a change in heart on the part of a key man-well, the Guardian of Morals had no such worry; his men never suffered a change in heart. I understand, too, that our own fraternity, in the early days when it was being purged and tempered for the ordeal to come, many times had blood on the floors of lodge rooms-I don't know; such records were destroyed.

On the fourth day we were not scheduled to go to the lodge room, having been told to show our faces where they would be noticed to offset our unwonted absences. I was spending my free time in the lounge off the mess room, leafing through magazines, when Timothy Klyce came in. He glanced at me, nodded, then started thumbing through a stack of magazines himself. Presently he said, 'These antiques belong in a dentist's office. Have any of you chaps seen this week's Time?'

His complaint was addressed to the room as a whole; no one answered. But he turned to me. 'Jack, I think you are sitting on it. Raise up a minute.'

I grunted and did so. As he reached for the magazine his head came close to mine and he whispered, 'Report to the Master.'

I had learned a little at least so I went on reading. After a bit I put my magazine aside, stretched and yawned, then got up and ambled out toward the washroom. But I walked on past and a few minutes later entered the lodge room. I found that Zeb was already there, as were several other brothers; they were gathered around Master Peter and Magdalene. I could feel the tension in the room.

I said, 'You sent for me, Wors.h.i.+pful Master?'

He glanced at me, looked back at Magdalene. She said slowly, 'Judith has been arrested.'

I felt my knees go soft and I had trouble standing. I am not unusually timid and physical bravery is certainly commonplace, but if you hit a man through his family or his loved ones you almost always get him where he is unprotected. 'The Inquisition?' I managed to gasp.

Her eyes were soft with pity. 'We think so. They took her away this morning and she has been incommunicado ever since.'

'Has any charge been filed?' asked Zeb.

'Not publicly.'

'Hm-m-m-That looks bad.'

'And good as well,' Master Peter disagreed. 'If it is the matter we think it is-Fa.s.sett, I mean-and had they had any evidence pointing to the rest of you, all four of you would have been arrested at once. At least, that is in accordance with their methods.'

'But what can we do?' I demanded.

Van Eyck did not answer. Magdelene said soothingly, 'There is nothing for you to do, John. You couldn't get within several guarded doors of her.'

'But we can't just do nothing!'

The lodge Master said, 'Easy, son. Maggie is the only one of us with access to that part of the inner Palace. We must leave it in her hands.'

I turned again to her; she sighed and said, 'Yes, but there is probably little I can do.' Then she left.

We waited. Zeb suggested that he and I should leave the lodge room and continue with being seen in our usual haunts; to my relief van Eyck vetoed it. 'No. We can't be sure that Sister Judith's hypnotic protection is enough to see her through the ordeal. Fortunately you two and Sister Magdalene are the only ones she can jeopardize-but I want you here, safe, until Magdalene finds out what she can. Or fails to return,' he added thoughtfully.

I blurted out, 'Oh, Judith will never betray us!'

He shook his head sadly. 'Son, anyone will betray anything under the Question-unless adequately guarded by hypno compulsion. We'll see.'

I had paid no attention to Zeb, being busy with my own very self-centred thoughts. He now surprised me by saying angrily, 'Master, you are keeping us here like pet hens-but you have just sent Maggie back to stick her head in a trap. Suppose Judith has cracked? They'll grab Maggie at once.'

Van Eyck nodded. 'Of course. That is the chance we must take since she is the only spy we have. But don't you worry about her. They'll never arrest her-she'll suicide first.'

The statement did not shock me; I was too numbed by the danger to Judith. But Zeb burst out with, 'The swine! Master, you shouldn't have sent her.'

Van Eyck answered mildly, 'Discipline, son. Control yourself. This is war and she is a soldier.' He turned away.

So we waited . . . and waited . . . and waited. It is hard to tell anyone who has not lived in the shadow of the Inquisition how we felt about it. We knew no details but we sometimes saw those unlucky enough to live through it. Even if the inquisitors did not require the auto da fe, the mind of the victim was usually damaged, often shattered.

Presently Master Peter mercifully ordered the Junior Warden to examine both of us as to our progress in memorizing ritual. Zeb and I sullenly did as we were told and were forced with relentless kindness to concentrate on the intricate rhetoric. Somehow nearly two hours pa.s.sed.

At last came three raps at the door and the Tyler admitted Magdalene. I jumped out of my chair and rushed to her. 'Well?' I demanded. 'Well?'

'Peace, John,' she answered wearily. 'I've seen her.'

'How is she? Is she all right?'

'Better than we have any right to expect. Her mind is still intact and she hasn't betrayed us, apparently. As for the rest, she may keep a scar or two-but she's young and healthy; she'll recover.'

I started to demand more facts but the Master cut me off. Then they've already put her to the Question. In that case, how did you get in to see her?'

'Oh, that!' Magdalene shrugged it off as something hardly worth mentioning. 'The inquisitor prosecuting her case proved to be an old acquaintance of mine; we arranged an exchange of favors.'

Zeb started to interrupt; the Master snapped, 'Quiet!' then added sharply, 'The Grand Inquisitor isn't handling it himself? In that case I take it they don't suspect that it could be a Cabal matter?'

Maggie frowned. 'I don't know. Apparently Judith fainted rather early in the proceedings; they may not have had time to dig into that possibility. In any case I begged a respite for her until tomorrow. The excuse is to let her recover strength for more questioning, of course. They will start in on her again early tomorrow morning.'

Van Eyck pounded a fist into a palm. 'They must not start again-we can't risk it! Senior Warden, attend me! The rest of you get out! Except you, Maggie.'

I left with something unsaid. I had wanted to tell Maggie that she could have my hide for a door mat any time she lifted her finger.

Dinner that night was a trial. After the chaplain droned through his blessing I tried to eat and join in the chatter but there seemed to be a hard ring in my throat that kept me from swallowing. Seated next to me was Grace-of-G.o.d Bearpaw, half Scottish, half Cherokee. Grace was a cla.s.smate but no friend of mine; we hardly ever talked and tonight he was as taciturn as ever.

During the meal he rested his boot on mine; I impatiently moved my foot away. But shortly his foot was touching mine again and he started to tap against my boot:- hold still, you idiot-' he spelled out- 'You have been chosen-it will be on your watch tonight-details later-eat and start talking-take a strip of adhesive tape on watch with you-six inches by a foot-repeat message back.'

I managed somehow to tap out my confirmation while continuing to pretend to eat.

4.

We relieved the watch at midnight. As soon as the watch section had marched away from our post I told Zeb what Grace had pa.s.sed on to me at chow and asked him if he had the rest of my instructions. He had not. I wanted to talk but he cut me short; he seemed even more edgy than I was.

So I walked my post and tried to look alert. We were posted that night at the north end of the west rampart; our tour covered one of the Palace entrances. About an hour had pa.s.sed when I heard a hiss from the dark doorway. I approached cautiously and made out a female form. She was too short to be Magdalene and I never knew who she was, for she shoved a piece of paper in my hand and faded back into the dark corridor.

I rejoined Zeb. 'What shall I do? Read it with my flash? That seems risky.'

'Open it up.'

I did and found that it was covered with fine script that glowed in the darkness. I could read it but it was too dim to be picked up by any electronic eye. I read it: At the middle of the watch exactly on the bell you will enter the Palace by the door where you received this. Forty paces inside, take the stair on your left; climb two flights. Proceed north fifty paces. The lighted doorway on your right leads to the Virgins' quarters, there will be a guard at this door. He will not resist you but you must use a paralysis bomb on him to give him an alibi. The cell you seek is at the far end of the central east & west corridor of the quarters. There will be a light over the door and a Virgin on guard. She is not one of us. You must disable her completely but you are forbidden to injure or kill her. Use the adhesive tape as gag and blindfold and tie her up with her clothes. Take her keys, enter the cell, and remove Sister Judith. She will probably be unconscious. Bring her to your post and hind her over to the warden of your watch.

You must make all haste from the time you paralyze the guard, as an eye may see you when you pa.s.s the lighted doorway and the alarm may sound at once.

Do not swallow this note; the ink is poisonous. Drop it in the incinerator chute at the head of the stairs.

Go with G.o.d.

Zeb read it over my shoulder. 'All you need,' he said grimly, 'is the ability to pa.s.s miracles at will. Scared?'

'Yes.'

'Want me to go along?'

'No. I guess we had better carry out the orders as given.'

'Yes, we had-if I know the Lodge Master. Besides, it just might happen that I might need to kill somebody rather suddenly while you are gone. I'll be covering your rear.'

'I suppose so.'

'Now let's shut up and bone military.' We went back to walking our post.

At the two muted strokes of the middle of the watch I propped my spear against the wall, took off my sword and corselet and helmet and the rest of the ceremonial junk we were required to carry but which would hamper me on this job. Zeb shoved a gauntleted hand in mine and squeezed. Then I was off.

Two-four-six-forty paces. I groped in the dark along the left wall and found the opening, felt around with my foot. Ah, there were the steps! I was already in a part of the Palace I had never been in; I moved by dead reckoning in the dark and hoped the person who had written my orders understood that. One flight, two flights-I almost fell on my face when I stepped on a 'top' step that wasn't there.

Where was the refuse chute? It should be at hand level and the instructions said 'head of the stairs'. I was debating frantically whether to show a light or chance keeping it when my left hand touched its latch; with a sigh of relief I chucked away the evidence that could have incriminated so many others. I started to turn away, then was immediately filled with panic. Was that really an incinerator chute? Could -it have been the panel for a delivery lift instead? I groped for it in the dark again, opened it and shoved my hand in.

My hand was scorched even through my gauntlet; I jerked it back with relief and decided to trust my instructions, have no more doubts. But forty paces north the pa.s.sageway jogged and that was not mentioned in my orders; I stopped and reconnoitered very cautiously, peering around the jog at floor level.

Twenty-five feet away the guard and the doorway. He was supposed to be one of us but I took no chances. I slipped a bomb from my belt, set it by touch to minimum intensity, pulled the primer and counted off five seconds to allow for point blank range. Then I threw it and ducked back into the jog to protect myself from the rays.

I waited another five seconds and stuck my head around. The guard was slumped down on the floor, with his forehead bleeding slightly where it had struck a fragment of the bomb case. I hurried out and stepped over him, trying to run and keep quiet at the same time. The central pa.s.sage of the Virgins' quarters was dim, with only blue night lights burning, but I could see and I reached the end of the pa.s.sage quickly-then jammed on the brakes. The female guard at the cell there, instead of walking a post, was seated on the floor with her back to the door.

Probably she was dozing, for she did not look up at once. Then she did so, saw me, and I had no time to make plans; I dove for her. My left hand m.u.f.fled her scream; with the edge of my left hand I chopped the side of her neck-not a killing stroke but I had no time to be gentle; she went limp.

Half the tape across her mouth first, then the other half across her eyes, then tear clothing from her to bind her-and hurry, hurry, hurry all the way, for a security man might already have monitored the eye that was certainly at the main doorway and have seen the unconscious guard. I found her keys on a chain around her waist and straightened up with a silent apology for what I had done to her. Her little body was almost childlike; she seemed even more helpless than Judith.

But I had no time for soft misgivings; I found the right key, got the door open-and then my darling was in my arms.

She was deep in a troubled sleep and probably drugged. She moaned as I picked her up but did not wake. But her gown slipped and I saw some of what they had done to her - I made a life vow, even as I ran, to pay it back seven times, if the man who did it could live that long.

The guard was still where 1 had left him. I thought I had gotten away with it without being monitored or waking anyone and was just stepping over him, when I heard a gasp from the corridor behind me. Why are women restless at night? If this woman hadn't gotten out of bed, no doubt to attend to something she should have taken care of before retiring, 1 might never have been seen at all.

It was too late to silence her, I simply ran. Once around the jog I was in welcome darkness but I overran the stair head, had to come back, and feel for it-then had to grope my way down step by step. I could hear shouts and high-pitched voices somewhere behind me.

Just as I reached ground level, turned and saw the portal outlined against the night sky before me, all the lights came on and the alarms began to clang. I ran the last few paces headlong and almost fell into the arms of Captain van Eyck. He scooped her out of my arms without a word and trotted away toward the corner of the building.

I stood staring after them half-wittedly when Zeb brought me to my senses by picking up my corselet and shoving it out for me to put in my arms. 'Snap out of it, man!' he hissed. 'That general alarm is for us. You're supposed to be on guard duty.'

He strapped on my sword as I buckled the corselet, then slapped my helmet on my head and shoved my spear into my left hand. Then we stood back to back in front of the portal, pistols drawn, safeties off, in drill-manual full alert. Pending further orders, we were not expected nor permitted to do anything else, since the alarm had not taken place on our post.

We stood like statues for several minutes. We could hear sounds of running feet and of challenges. The Officer of the Day ran past us into the Palace, buckling his corselet over his night clothes as he ran. I almost blasted him out of existence before he answered my challenge. Then the relief watch section swung past at double time with the relief warden at its head.

Gradually the excitement died away; the lights remained on but someone thought to shut off the alarm. Zeb ventured a whisper. 'What in Sheol happened? Did you m.u.f.f it?'

'Yes and no.' I told him about the restless Sister.

Hmmph! Well, son, this ought to teach you not to fool around with women when you are on duty.'

'Confound it, 1 wasn't fooling with her. She just popped out of her cell.'

'I didn't mean tonight,' he said bleakly.

I shut up.

About half an hour later, long before the end of the watch, the relief section tramped back. Their warden halted them, our two reliefs fell out and we fell in the empty places. We marched back to the guardroom, stopping twice more on the way to drop reliefs and pick up men from our own section.

5.

We were halted in the inner parade facing the guardroom door and left at attention. There we stood for fifty mortal minutes while the officer of the Day strolled around and looked us over. Once a man in the rear rank s.h.i.+fted his weight. It would have gone unnoticed at dress parade, even in the presence of the Prophet, but tonight the Officer of the Day bawled him out at once and Captain van Eyck noted down his name.

Master Peter looked just as angry as his superior undoubtedly was. He pa.s.sed out several more gigs, even stopped in front of me and told the guardroom orderly to put me down for 'boots not properly s.h.i.+ned'-which was a libel, unless I had scuffed them in my efforts. I dared not look down to see but stared him in the eye and said nothing, while he stared back coldly.

But his manner recalled to me Zeb's lecture about intrigue. Van Eyck's manner was perfectly that of a subordinate officer let down and shamed by his own men; how should I feel if I were in fact new-born innocent?

Angry, I decided-angry and self-righteous. Interested and stimulated by the excitement at first, then angry at being kept standing at attention like a plebe. They were trying to soften us up by the strained wait; how would I have felt about it, say two months ago? Smugly sure of my own virtue, it would have offended me and humiliated me-to be kept standing like a pariah waiting to whine for the privilege of a ration card-to be placed on the report like a cadet with soup on his jacket.

By the time the Commander of the Guard arrived almost an hour later I was white-lipped with anger. The process was synthetic but the emotion was real. I had never really liked our Commander anyway. He was a short, supercilious little man with a cold eye and a way of looking through his junior officers instead of at them. Now he stood in front of us with his priest's robes thrown back over his shoulders and his thumbs caught in his sword belt.

He glared at us. 'Heaven help me, Angels of the Lord indeed,' he said softly into the dead silence-then barked, 'Well?'

No one answered.

'Speak up!' he shouted. 'Some one of you knows about this. Answer me! Or would you all rather face the Question?'

A murmur ran down our ranks-but no one spoke.

He ran his eyes over us again. His eye caught mine and I stared back truculently. 'Lyle!'

'Yes, reverend sir?'