CHAPTER THREE

EVADNI

 

 

Crag almost laughed. It was the first time Olliver had been stupid. To think-Well, it didn't matter. He ignored it.

"Are we through horsing around now?" he asked.

Apparently Olliver either didn't recognize the archaic expression or didn't know what Crag meant by it. He raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean, Crag?^"

"Making me take unnecessary risks just to show you how good I am."

"Oh, that. Yes, we're through horsing around. Pull up a chair, Crag. You sit down too, Evadne."

When they were comfortable, Olliver said, "First the background, Crag. You know the general political situation, but from the outside you probably don't know how bad it is.^"

"I know enough,^" Crag said.

^"A two-party system, but both crooked. The only fortunate thing is the reasonably close balance of power between them. The Guilds-powerful organizations that evolved out of the workmen^'s unions of half a dozen centuries ago, pitted against the Syndicates-the Gilded-ruthless groups of capitalists and their reactionary satellites. The Guilds using intimidation as their weapon and the Gilded using bribery. Each group honeycombed with spies of the other-^"

"I know all that."

"Of course. A third party, a middle-of-the-road one, is now being organized, under cover. We must get a certain amount of capital and of power before we can come out into the open." He smiled. ^"Or they'll slap us down before we get really started."

^"All I want to know," said Crag, "is what you want me to do. You can skip the build-up.^"

"All right. A certain man has a certain invention. He doesn^'t know it's valuable. I do. With that invention, our party could have unlimited funds. Billions. We've raised a war chest of several million among ourselves already. But it isn't enough. A party, these days, needs billions."

^"Sounds simple," Crag said, ^"but have you offered the inventor the million you offered me?"

"He won't sell at any price. For one thing, he's immensely wealthy already, and a million wouldn^'t mean anything to him. For another, the thing is incidentally a weapon and it would be illegal for him to sell it."

"What do you mean, incidentally a weapon?^" Crag looked at him narrowly.

"That's its primary purpose, what it was made to be. But it's not a very efficient weapon; it kills, but it takes too long. It takes seconds, and whoever you killed with it could get you before he died. And the range is very limited.

^"Its real importance, which he does not realize, lies in a by-product of its action."

Crag said, ^"All right, that part's none of my business. But tell me who and where the guy lives and what I'm looking for.^"

Olliver said, "When the times comes, you'll get the details. Something comes first-for your protection and mine. You won^'t be able to do this job right if you're wanted by the police, being hunted. For one thing, it^'s not on Earth. And you know-or should-how tough it is to get off Earth if the police are looking for you."

"Tough, but it can be done.^"

"Still, an unnecessary risk. And anyway, I promised you your freedom as part of this deal. I meant your full freedom, not as a hunted man.^"

"And how do you expect to swing that?^" Crag asked.

"With Evadne^'s help. She^'s a psycher technician.^"

Crag turned and looked at her again. It didn't make him like her any better, but it did surprise him. To be a psycher technician you had to have a degree in psychiatry and another in electronics. To look at Evadne you wouldn^'t think of degrees, unless they were degrees of your own temperature.

Olliver said, "Now don^'t get excited, Crag, when I tell you that I'm going to send you-with your consent-to the psycher. It'll be a short-circuited one, with Evadne running it; it won't have any effect on you at all. But Evadne will certify you as adjusted.^"

Crag frowned. ^"How do I know the machine will be shorted?^"

"Why would we cross you up on it, Crag? It would defeat our own purpose. If you were adjusted, you wouldn't do this job for me-or want to.^"

Crag glanced at the woman. She said, "You can trust me, Crag, that far.^"

It was a funny way of putting it and, possibly for that reason, he believed her. It seemed worth the gamble. If they thought he'd been through the psycher, he really would be free. Free to go anywhere, do anything. And otherwise he'd be hunted the rest of his life; if he was ever picked up for the slightest slip he'd be identified at once and sent to the psycher as an escaped convict. And without a psycher technician to render it useless.

Olliver was saying, ^"It^'s the only way, Crag. By tomorrow noon you^'ll be a free man and can return here openly. I^'ll hire you-presumably to drive my autocar and my space cruiser-and keep you here until it's time to do the little job for me. Which will be in about a week.^"

Crag decided quickly. He said, ^"It's a deal. Do I go out and give myself up?"

Olliver opened a drawer of the big desk and took out a needle gun. He said, "There's a better way. Safer, that is. You killed a guard, you know, and they might shoot instead of capturing you if you went out of here. I'll bring them in instead, and I^'ll have you already captured. You came here to kill me, and I captured you: They won't dare to shoot you then."

Crag nodded, and backed up against the wall, his hands raised.

Olliver said, ^"Go and bring them in, my dear,^" to Evadne.

Crag's eyes followed her as she went to the door. Then they returned to Olliver's. Olliver had raised the needle gun and his eyes locked with Crag^'s. He said softly, "Remember, Crag, she's my wife."

Crag grinned insolently at him. He said, ^"You don^'t seem very sure of that."

For a moment he thought he'd gone too far, as Olliver^'s knuckles tightened on the handle of the gun. Then the men were coming in to get him, and they held the tableau and neither spoke again.

He was back in jail, in the same cell, within half an hour. One thing happened that he hadn't counted on-although he would have realized it was inevitable if he'd thought of it. They beat him into insensibility before they left him there. Common sense-or self-preservation-made him wise enough not to raise his hand, his left hand, against them. He might have killed two or even three of them, but there were six, and the others would have killed him if he'd killed even one.

He came back to consciousness about midnight, and pain kept him from sleeping the rest of the night. At ten in the morning, six guards came and took him back to the same room in which he had been tried the day before. This time there was no jury and no attorneys. Just Crag, six guards, and Judge Olliver.

Sentence to the psycher was a formality.

Six guards took him hack to his cell. And, because it was the last chance they'd have, they beat him again. Not so badly this time; he'd have to be able to walk to the psycher.

At twelve they brought him lunch, but he wasn^'t able to eat it. At fourteen, they came and escorted him to the psycher room. They strapped him in the chair, slapped his face a bit and one of them gave him a farewell blow in the stomach that made him glad he hadn't eaten, and then they left.

 

 

* * * *

 

A few minutes later, Evadne came in. Again she was dressed as she had been when he'd first seen her. But this time her beauty showed through even more for, after having seen her dressed as she^'d been the evening before, he knew almost every curve that the tailored uniform tried to hide. She wore the horn-rimmed glasses when she came in, but took them off as soon as she had locked the door from inside. Probably, Crag thought, they were only protective coloration.

She stood in front of him, looking down at his face, a slight smile on her lips.

She said, "Quit looking so worried, Crag. I^'m not going to psych you-and even your suspicious, unadjusted nature will admit I'd have no reason for lying about it now, if I intended to. I've got you where I'd want you, if I wanted you."

He said nothing.

Her smile faded. ^"You know, Crag, I^'d hate to adjust you, even if this was a straight deal. You're a magnificent brute. I think I like you better the way you are, than if you were a mild-mannered cleric or elevator operator. That's what you^'d be if I turned that thing on, you know.^"

"Why not unstrap me?"

^"With the door locked, and with us alone? Oh, I^'m not being femininely modest, Crag. I know you hate women I also know your temper, and I know how you've probably been treated since last night. I'd have to watch every word I said to keep you from slapping me down-left handed.^"

"You know about that?"

^"Olliver-Jon-knows a lot about you."

^"Then he must know I wouldn^'t hit a woman-unless she got in my way.^"

"But I might." She laughed. "And you'd have to le me strap you in again anyway. And that reminds me. You're supposed to be unconscious when I leave this room. You^'ll have to fake that. The guards come in and unstrap you. They take you to a hospital room until you come around.^"

"Helping me do so with rubber hose?"

"No, that's all over with. You^'ll be a new man-not the man who killed a guard yesterday. They won^'t have any resentment against you."

"How long am I supposed to be unconscious?"

^"Half an hour to an hour. And you may leave as soon thereafter as you wish. Better stay an hour or two; most of them do. You're supposed to be a bit dazed when you come to, and to orient yourself gradually. And don^'t forget you're not supposed to remember your own name, or any crimes you've ever committed-or anything you've ever done, for that matter.^"

"Just like amnesia, huh?"

^"Exactly like amnesia-and, besides that, all the causes of maladjustments are supposed to be removed. You're supposed to love everyone in particular and humanity in general."

Crag laughed. ^"And does a halo come with it?"

"I'm not joking, Crag. Take that idea seriously-at least until you're safely away from here. Don't act as though you still have a chip on your shoulder or they may suspect that something went wrong with the psycher and send you back for another try. And I'll be off duty by then."

"If I don^'t remember who I am-I mean, if I'm supposed not to remember-isn't it going to be funny for me to walk out without being curious? Do they just let psyched guys walk out without a name?"

^"Oh, no. Each one has a sponsor, someone who volunteers to help orient them to a new life. Jon has volunteered to be your sponsor and to give you a job. You'll be told that and given his address and cab fare to get there. He's supposed to explain things to you when you see him, to orient you."

"What if a guy would lam instead of going to his sponsor?^"

"After the psycher, they're adjusted. They wouldn't. Remember, Crag, you've got to play it to the hilt until you're safe at our house. If anyone steps on your toe, apologize."

Crag growled, and then laughed. It was the first time he'd laughed-with humor-in a long time. But the idea of him apologizing to anyone for anything was so ridiculous he couldn't help it.

Evadne reached across his shoulder and did something; he couldn^'t tell what because his head was strapped against the back of the chair.

"Disconnected a terminal," she said. "I'll have to run the machine for a while; someone might notice that it isn't drawing any current."

She went to one side of the room and threw a switch. A low humming sound filled the room, but nothing happened otherwise. Crag relaxed.

She was standing in front of him again. She said, "You know, Crag, I^'m almost tempted to give you a partial psyching-just to find out what made you what you are.^"

"Don't start anything you don't finish," he said grimly. His right hand clenched.

"Oh. I know that. I know perfectly well that if I got any information from you under compulsion-as I could if I reconnected that terminal-I'd have to finish the job and adjust you or blank you out. Your ego wouldn't let me stay alive if I knew things about you that you'd told me involuntarily.^"

^"You^'re smarter than I thought," he said.

"That isn't being smart, for a psychiatrist. Even a layman could guess that. But, Crag, you^'ve got to tell me a few things."

"Why?"

^"So I can turn in a report. I don't have to turn in a detailed one, but I must at least write up a summary. I could fake it easily, but it just might be checked and fail to tally with some things about you that are already known. You can see that."

^"Well-yes."

"For instance, the loss of your hand. That was back before you turned criminal, so the facts about it will be on record somewhere. And I'd be supposed to ask you about that because it may have been a factor in your turning against society."

"I guess it was," Crag said. "And, as you say, it's on record so there's no reason I shouldn^'t tell you. It happened on the Vega 111, when I^'d been a spaceman eight years. It was a pure accident-not my fault or anyone else's. Just one of those things that happen. Mechanical failure in a rocket tube set it off while I was cleaning it.

"But they sprang a technicality on me and kept me from getting the fifty thousand credits compensation I was entitled to. Not only that, but took my license and rating away from me, turned me from a spaceman into a one-handed bum."

^"What was the technicality?"

^"Test for alcohol. I'd had exactly one drink-a stirrup cup, one small glass of wine-six hours before, which was two hours before we left Mars. Orders are no drinks eight hours before blast-off, and I hadn't drunk anything for longer than that, except that one drink. And it had nothing to do with the accident-nobody feels one glass of wine six hours after. But they^, used it to save themselves what I had coming.^"

"And after that?"

"After that I got kicked around a while until I started in to do my share of the kicking.^"

"That wouldn^'t have been very long," she said. It wasn^'t a question and he didn^'t answer it.

She said, "I know what crimes they know you committed-without having been able to prove it. I'll say you confessed to them."

Crag shrugged. "Tell them what you like."

"Why do you hate women so much?"

"Is that personal curiosity? Or does it have to go in your report?"

She smiled. "As a matter of fact, both."

"I was married at the time I lost my job and my hand and my license. To a girl with hair like yours. Married only a few months and mad about her. Do I have to draw a diagram of what she did to me?^"

She said soberly, ^"I can guess.^"

"You should be able to. You're more beautiful than she. And more evil.^"

Her face flamed and for a moment he thought she was going to strike him. But training told, and in seconds she was smiling again.

She said, ^"Not evil, Crag. Just ruthless, like you. I try to get what I want. But we're not psyching me, and it^'s time to end this now. Close your eyes and pretend to be unconscious.^"

He did. He heard her walk to the wall and throw the switch that shut off the machine. She came back and reconnected the terminal behind his shoulder, and still he kept his eves closed.

He'd half-expected it, but it jarred him when it came. It was a kiss that should have wakened a statue, but outwardly he took it with complete passiveness. He kept his own lips still.

And he hated her the more because the kiss brought to life in him things he^'d thought were dead. And he knew that he'd hate her forever and probably kill her when he saw her again if, now, she laughed.

But she didn^'t laugh, or even speak. She left the room very quietly.