0081 NO CONTENT

0082 VISUAL——WOMAN SMILING AT ERECT PENIS

“The second stage of the program alternates between negative reinforcement and positive reinforcement,” Salsbury said. “The next twenty-five seconds are devoted to a sex reinforcement sequence much like those you saw on the first print-out. Skip ahead just a bit.”

0110 VISUAL——WOLF’S FACE, SNARLING

0111 VISUAL——WOLF’S FACE, SNARLING

0112 VISUAL——SCORPION STINGING A MOUSE

0113 VISUAL——SCORPION STINGING A MOUSE

0114 VISUAL——COFFIN

0115 VISUAL——COFFIN

0116 VISUAL——COFFIN

0117 THIS LEGEND——REFUSAL TO OBEY THE KEY—DEATH

0118 THIS LEGEND——REFUSAL TO OBEY THE KEY—DEATH

0119 VISUAL——HUMAN SKULL

0120 VISUAL——HUMAN SKULL

0121 VISUAL——ROTTING CORPSE

0122 THIS LEGEND——REFUSAL TO OBEY THE KEY—DEATH

0123 VISUAL——ROTTING CORPSE

0124 THIS LEGEND——REFUSAL TO OBEY THE KEY—DEATH

Looking up from the print-out, Klinger said, “Do you mean that death is as effective as sex in subliminal persuasion?”

“Nearly so, yes. In advertising, subliminals can be used to establish the same sort of motivational equation with death as with sex. According to Wilson Bryan Key, who wrote a book about the nature of subceptive manipulation a few years back, the first use of death images might have come in a Calvert Whiskey ad that appeared in a number of magazines in 1971. Since then hundreds of death symbols have become standard tools of the major ad agencies.”

Putting down the second print-out, the general said, “What about the third stage? What was hidden in the film you showed them on the third night?”

Salsbury had another length of computer paper. “In the beginning, this one just reinforces and strengthens the messages and effects of the first two films. It’s broken down into tenths of seconds in some places because by this time the subjects are primed for faster input, rapid-fire commands. Like the others, it really begins with the second minute.”

0060 00 VISUAL——WOMAN’S FACE EXPRESSING ECSTASY

0061 00 THIS LEGEND——OBEDIENCE TO THE KEY—SATISFACTION

0061 05 VISUAL——PENIS EJACULATING

0062 00 VISUAL——WOMAN’S FACE EXPRESSING ECSTASY

0062 05 THIS LEGEND——OBEDIENCE TO THE KEY—SATISFACTION

0063 00 VISUAL——WOMAN WEEPING

0063 03 VISUAL——MAN WEEPING

0063 06 VISUAL——WOLF’S FACE, SNARLING

0063 09 VISUAL——SCORPION STINGING A MOUSE

0064 02 VISUAL——COFFIN

0064 05 THIS LEGEND——REFUSAL TO OBEY THE KEY—DEATH

0065 00 VISUAL——WOMAN KISSING PENIS

0065 05 VISUAL——PENIS SLIDING BETWEEN WOMAN’S BREASTS

0065 08 VISUAL——PENIS ENTERING VAGINA

0066 00 THIS LEGEND——SUBMISSION TO THE KEY——FREEDOM FROM FAILURE

0066 05 VISUAL——SEVERED, BLOODY HUMAN ARM

0066 08 VISUAL——ROTTING CORPSE

Farther on, both the tempo and the emotional impact of the images increased drastically:

0800 00 VISUAL——HUMAN HEAD WITH GUNSHOT WOUND

0800 02 VISUAL——DEAD VIETNAMESE BABY

0800 04 VISUAL——MAGGOTS IN PIECE OF BEEF

0800 06 VISUAL——RAT’S FACE, SNARLING

0800 07 VISUAL——WOLF’S FACE, SNARLING

0800 08 VISUAL——COFFIN

0600 09 VISUAL——MAGGOTS IN PIECE OF BEEF

0801 00 THIS LEGEND——REFUSAL TO OBEY THE KEY—DEATH

0801 02 VISUAL——ERECT PENIS

0801 04 VISUAL——WOMAN’S FACE EXPRESSING ECSTASY

0801 06 VISUAL——TONGUE ON CLITORIS

0801 08 VISUAL——WOMAN KISSING PENIS

0801 09 VISUAL——PENIS IN VAGINA

0802 00 VISUAL——EJACULATION ON WOMAN’S PUBIC HAIR

0802 01 THIS LEGEND——SUBMISSION TO THE KEY—YOUR GREATEST DESIRE

Much farther on, faster and faster:

2400 00 VISUAL——DEAD BABY’S FACE, CLOSE—UP

2400 01 VISUAL—-MAGGOTS IN HORSE MANURE

2400 02 THIS LEGEND——REFUSE THE KEY: DEATH

2400 03 VISUAL——MAN FINGERING CLITORIS

2400 04 VISUAL——WOMAN LICKING PENIS

2400 05 THIS LEGEND——SUBMIT TO THE KEY: HAPPINESS

2400 06 VISUAL——STEAMING ENTRAILS OF COW

2400 07 THIS LEGEND——REFUSAL: PAlN

2400 08 THIS LEGEND-—REFUSAL: DEATH

2400 09 VISUAL——EJACULATION INTO WOMAN’S MOUTH

2401 00 VISUAL——WOMAN’S FACE EXPRESSING ECSTASY

2401 01 THIS LEGEND_—SUBMISSION: HAPPINESS

2401 02 THIS LEGEND——SUBMISSION: BLISS

Eventually, there was less time given to the motivating images and more to the direct commands:

3600 00 VISUAL——MAGGOTS IN PIECE OF BEEF

3600 01 THIS LEGEND——REFUSAL: DEATH

3600 02 VISUAL——DEAD CAT

3600 03 THIS LEGEND-—OBEY THE KEY

3600 04 THIS LEGEND——OBEY, OBEY, OBEY

3600 05 VISUAL——WOMAN LICKING PENIS

3600 06 THIS LEGEND——SUBMISSION: LIFE

3600 0? THIS LEGEND—-OBEY THE KEY

3600 08 VISUAL——EJACULATION ON WOMAN’S THIGH

3600 09 THIS LEGEND——OBEY THE KEY

3600 10 THIS LEGEND——LIFE, LIFE, LIFE

“That pace is maintained straight through to the end of the film,” Salsbury said. “During the last fifteen minutes, while all of this sex and death input continues, the concept of the keylock code phrases is also introduced and implanted permanently in the viewer’s deep subconscious mind.”

“That’s all there is to it?”

“Thanks to the drug that primes them for the subliminals— yes, that’s all there is to it.”

“And they don’t realize they’ve seen any of it.”

“If they did know, the program would have no effect on them. It has to speak solely to the subconscious in order to pass the natural reasoning ability of the conscious mind.”

Klinger pulled the command chair away from the console and sat down. His left hand was curled in his lap. It was so matted with black hair that it reminded Salsbury of a sewer rat. The general petted it with his other hand while he considered the print-outs he had just seen. At last he said, “Our three mercenaries. When did they complete the third stage of the program?”

“Thirty days ago. I’ve been observing them and testing their submissiveness for the past few weeks.”

“Any of them react at all as Kingman did?”

“They all had bad dreams,” Saisbury said. “Probably about what they had seen on the rheostatic screen. None of them could recall. Furthermore, they all had severe night chills and mild nausea. But they lived.”

“Encountered any other problems?”

“None.”

“No weak spots in the program? No moments when they refused to obey you?”

“None at all, so far. In a few minutes, after we’ve put them to the ultimate test, we’ll know whether or not we have absolute control of them. If not, I’ll start over. If we do—champagne.”

Klinger sighed. “I suppose this is something we have to know. I suppose this last test is entirely necessary.”

“Entirely.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Weren’t you an officer in Vietnam?”

“What’s that got to do with this?”

“You’ve sent men to die before.”

Grimacing, Klinger said, “But always with honor. Always with honor. And there’s sure as hell no honor in what’s going to happen here.”

Honor, Salsbury thought acidly. You’re as big an idiot as Leonard. There isn’t any heaven, and there’s no such thing as honor. All that counts is getting what you want. You know that and I know that and even Leonard, when he’s humbled Over his fruit cup at a White House prayer breakfast with Billy Graham and the President, knows that—but I’m the only one of us who will admit it to himself.

Getting to his feet, Klinger said, “Okay. Let’s finish this. Where are they?”

“In the next room. Waiting.”

“They know what they’re going to do?”

“No.” Salsbury went to his desk, thumbed a button on the intercom, and spoke into the wire grid. “Rossner, Holbrook, and Picard. Come in now. We’re ready for you.”

A few seconds later the door opened, and three men filed inside.

“Co to the center of the room,” Salsbury said.

They did as he directed.

“You’ve already opened them with the code phrase?” Klinger asked.

“Before you came.”

The first of them, in spite of the fact that he was in his late thirties or early forties, looked like a dangerous street-corner punk. Slim but hard and wiry. Five feet ten. Dark complexion. Dark brown hair combed straight back and graying at the temples. A way of standing with his feet apart and most of his weight on his toes so that he was always prepared to move and move quickly. His face was pinched, his eyes a bit too close together, his lips thin and grayish-pink above a pointed chin.

“This is Rossner,” Salsbury told Klinger. “Glenn Rossner. American. He’s been a freelance soldier for sixteen years.”

“Hello,” Rossner said.

“None of you is to speak unless spoken to,” Salsbury said. “Is that understood?”

Three voices: “Yes.”

The second man was approximately the same age as the first; otherwise, he could not have been less like Rossner. Six feet two. Husky. Fair complexion.

Reddish-blond hair cropped close to his head. A broad face. Heavy jowls. His stem expression had been held for so many years that it seemed graven in his flesh. He looked like the sort of father who made arbitrary rules, used corporal punishment with a child at least twice a week, talked tough, acted bullheaded, and turned sons like Glenn Rossner into street-corner punks.

Salsbury said, “This is Peter Holbrook. He’s British. He’s been a mercenary for twenty years, ever since he was twenty-two.”

The last man was no older than thirty, and he was the only one of the three who could be called handsome. Six feet. Lean

and muscular. Thick brown hair. A broad brow. Peculiar green-gray eyes with long lashes that any woman would have been proud to have for her own. Very rectangular features and an especially strong jaw line and chin. He somewhat resembled the young Rex Harrison.

“Michel Picard,” Salsbury said. “French. Speaks fluent English. He’s been a mercenary for four years.”

“Which will it be?” Klinger asked.

“Picard, I think.”

“Let’s get on with it, then.”

Saisbury turned to Rossner and said, “Glenn, there’s a folded canvas drop cloth on my desk. Bring it here.”

Rossner went to the desk, came back with the cloth.

“Peter, you help him unfold it on the floor.”

A minute later the nine-foot-square canvas sheet was spread out in the middle of the room.

“Michel, stand in the middle of the cloth.” The Frenchman obeyed.

“Michel, what am I?”

“You are the key.”

“And what are you?”

“I am the lock.”

“You will do what I tell you to do.” “Yes. Of course,” Picard said.

“Relax, Michel. You are very relaxed.” “Yes. I feel fine.”

“You are very happy.”

Picard smiled.

“You will remain happy, regardless of what happens to you in the next few minutes. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

“You will not attempt to stop Peter and Glenn from carrying out the orders I give them, regardless of what those orders are. Is that understood?”

“Yes.”

Taking a three-foot length of heavy nylon cord from a pocket of his white laboratory smock, Salsbury said, “Peter, take this.

Slip it about Michel’s neck as if you were going to strangle him—but proceed no further than that.”

Holbrook stepped behind the Frenchman and looped the cord around his throat.

“Michel, are you relaxed?”

“Oh, yes. Quite relaxed.”

“Your hands are at your sides now. You will keep them at your sides until I tell you to move them.”

Still smiling, Picard said, “All right.”

“You will smile as long as you are able to smile.”

“Yes.”

“And even when you are no longer able to smile, you’ll know this is for the best.”

Picard smiled.

“Glenn, you will observe. You will not become involved in the little drama these two are about to act out.”

“I won’t become involved,” Rossner said.

“Peter, you will do what I tell you.” The big man nodded. “Without hesitation.”

“Without hesitation.” “Strangle Michel.”

If the Frenchman’s smile slipped, it was only by the slightest fraction.

Then Holbrook jerked on both ends of the cord.

Picard’s mouth flew open. He seemed to be trying to scream, but he had no voice.

He began to gag.

Although Holbrook was wearing a long-sleeved shirt, Salsbury could see the muscles bunching and straining in his thick arms.

Each desperate breath that Picard drew produced a thin, rattling wheeze. His eyes bulged. His face was flushed.

“Pull tighter,” Salsbury told Holbrook.

The Englishman obliged. A fierce grin, not of humor but of effort, seemed to transform his face into a death’s head.

Picard fell against Holbrook.

Holbrook stepped back.

Picard went to his knees.

His hands were still at his sides. He was making no effort to save himself.

“Jesus jump to hell,” Klinger said, amazed, numbed, unable to speak above a whisper.

Shuddering, convulsing, Picard lost control of his bladder and bowels.

Salsbury was pleased that he had thought to provide the canvas dropcloth.

Seconds later Holbrook stepped away from Picard, his task completed. The garrote had made deep, angry red impressions in the palms of his hands.

Salsbury took another length of cord from another pocket in his smock and gave it to Rossner. “Do you know what that is, Glenn?”

“Yes.” He had watched impassively as Holbrook murdered the Frenchman.

“Glenn, I want you to give the cord to Peter.” Without even pausing to think about it, Rossner placed the second garrote in the Englishman’s hands.

“Now turn your back to Peter.”

Rossner turned.

“Are you relaxed, Glenn?”

“Relax. Be calm. Don’t worry about anything at all. That’s an order.”

The lines in Rossner’s face softened.

“How do you feel, Glenn?”

“Relaxed.”

“Good. You won’t try to keep Peter from obeying the orders I give him, regardless of what those orders are.”

“I won’t interfere,” Rossner said.

Salsbury turned to the Englishman. “Loop that cord around Glenn’s neck as you did with Michel.”

With an expert flip and twist of the garrote, Holbrook was in position. He waited for orders.

“Glenn,” Salsbury said, “are you tense?”

“No. I’m relaxed.”

“That’s fine. Just fine. You will continue to be relaxed. Now, I’m going to tell Peter to kill you—and you are going to permit him to do that. Is that clear?”

“Yes. I understand.” His placid expression didn’t waver.

Don t you want to live?

“Yes. Yes, I want to live.”

“Then why are you willing to die?”

“I—I—” He looked confused.

“You are willing to die because refusal to obey the key means pain and death anyway. Isn’t that right,, Glenn?”

“That’s right.”

Salsbury watched the two men closely for signs of panic. There were none. Nor even any of stress.

The stench from Michel Picard’s fouled body was nearly overpowering and getting worse.

Rossner surely knew what was about to happen to him. He had seen Michel die, had been told he would die in the same way. Yet he stood unmoving, apparently unafraid.

He was willing to commit what amounted to suicide rather than disobey the key.

In fact disobedience was literally inconceivable to him.

“Total control,” the general said. “Yet they don’t look or behave like zombies.”

“Because they aren’t. There’s nothing supernatural involved. Just the ultimate in behavior modification techniques.” Salsbury was elated. “Peter, give me the cord. Thank you. You have both done well. Exceptionally well. Now, I want you to wrap Michel’s body in the canvas and move it to the next room. Wait there until I have additional orders for you.”

As if they were a pair of ordinary laborers talking about how to move a load of bricks from here to there, Rossner and Holbrook quickly discussed the job at hand. When they had decided on the best way to roll and carry the corpse, they set to work.

“Congratulations,” Klinger said. He was perspiring. Cool, dry, steady-eyed Ernst Klinger was sweating like a pig.

What do you think of the computer lights now? Salsbury wondered. Do they look as Christmasy as they did ten minutes ago?

The computer room smelled of lemons. Salsbury had used an aerosol spray to get rid of the odor of feces and urine.

He took a bottle of whiskey from his desk drawer and poured himself a shot to celebrate.

Klinger had a double shot to steady his nerves. When he had tossed it back he said, “And now what?”

“The field test.”

“You’ve mentioned that before. But why? Why can’t we go ahead with the Middle East plan as Leonard outlined it in Tahoe, nearly two years ago? We know the drug works, don’t we? And we know the subliminals work.”

“I achieved the desired results with Holbrook, Rossner, and poor Picard,”

Salsbury said, sipping his whiskey. “But it doesn’t necessarily follow that everyone will react as they have. I can’t possibly have complete confidence in the program until I’ve treated and observed and tested a few hundred subjects of both sexes and of all ages. Furthermore, our three mercenaries were treated and responded in controlled lab situations. Before we can take the extraordinary risks involved with something like the Middle East plan—where we’ve got to create a new subliminal series for another culture and in another language—.

we’ve simply got to know what the results will be in the field.”

Klinger poured himself another shot of whiskey. As he lifted the glass to his lips, a look of fear flitted across his face. It lasted no more than a second or two. Pretending to be thinking about the field test, he stared at the liquor in his glass and then at the bottle on the desk and then at Salsbury’s glass.

Laughing, Salsbury said, “Don’t worry, Ernst. I wouldn’t slip the drug into my own Jack Daniels. Besides, you’re not a potential subject. You’re my partner.”

Klinger nodded. Nevertheless, he put his glass down without tasting the whiskey.

“Where would you run a field test like this?”

“Black River, Maine. It’s a small town near the Canadian border.”

“Why there?”

Salsbury went to the nearest programming console and typed out an order to the computer. As he typed he said, “Two months ago I drew a list of the basic requirements for the ideal test site.”

All of the screens began to present the same information: KEY/LOCK FIELD TEST DATA, AS FOLLOWS:

1A. SITE SHOULD BE SMALL TOWN, YET PROVIDE SUFFICIENT NUMBER OF SUBJECTS FOR

STATISTICAL ACCURACY

1B. BLACK RIVER, MAINE——POPULATION 402 LUMBER CAMP——POPULATION 188

ADDITIONAL POPULATION WITHIN 5 MILES——NONE

“Lumber camp?” Klinger asked.

“It’s a company town for Big Union Supply. Nearly everyone in Black River works for Big Union or services the people who do. The company maintains a full-scale camp—barracks, mess hail, recreation facilities, the whole works—near their planned forests for unmarried loggers who don’t want to go to the expense of renting a room or an apartment in the village.”

2A. SITE SHOULD BE GEOGRAPHICALLY ISOLATED BY CURRENT SOCIAL STANDARDS

2B. FIRST NEAREST TOWN TO BLACK RIVER——30 MILES

SECOND NEAREST TOWN TO BLACK RIVER——62 MILES

LAND ROUTES TO BLACK RIVER——1 STATE HIGHWAY, 2—LANE

——1 RAILROAD LINE, ONLY INDUSTRIAL TRAFFIC

RIVER ROUTES TO BLACK RIVER——RIVER NAVIGABLE, NO REGULAR TRAFFIC

AIRFIELD FACILITIES AT BLACK RIVER——NONE

3A. SITE SHOULD BE WITHIN RECEPTION RANGE OF ONE OR MORE TELEVISION STATIONS

3B. STATIONS RECEIVED IN BLACK RIVER——1 AMERICAN