The receiver went dead.
The Chief Councillor's face had paled to an aged yellow. He and Blei were the only ones of the group left with Lamorak. The Chief Councillor said, "The man is deranged; I do not know how to force him."
He had a gla.s.s of wine at his side; as he lifted it to his lips, he spilled a few drops that stained his white trousers with purple splotches.
Lamorak said, "Are his demands so unreasonable? Why can't he be accepted into society?"
There was momentary rage in Blei's eyes. "A dealer in excrement." Then he shrugged. "You are from Earth."
Incongruously, Lamorak thought of another unacceptable, one of the numerous cla.s.sic creations of the medieval cartoonist, Al Capp. The variously-named "inside man at the skonk works."
He said, "Does Ragusnik really deal with excrement? I mean, is there physical contact? Surely, it is all handled by automatic machinery."
"Of course," said the Chief Councillor.
"Then exactly what is Ragusnik's function?"
"He manually adjusts the various controls that a.s.sure the proper functioning of the machinery. He shifts units to allow repairs to be made; he alters functional rates with the time of day; he varies end production with demand." He added sadly, "If we had the s.p.a.ce to make the machinery ten times as complex, all this could be done automatically; but that would be such needless waste."
"But even so," insisted Lamorak, "all Ragusnik does he does simply by pressing b.u.t.tons or closing contacts or things like that."
"Yes."
"Then his work is no different from any Elseverian's."
Blei said, stiffly, "You don't understand."
"And for that you will risk the death of your children?"
"We have no other choice," said Blei. There was enough agony in his voice to a.s.sure Lamorak that the situation was torture for him, but that he had no other choice indeed.
Lamorak shrugged in disgust. "Then break the strike. Force him."
"How?" said the Chief Councillor. "Who would touch him or go near him? And if we kill him by blasting from a distance, how will that help us?"
Lamorak said, thoughtfully, "Would you know how to run his machinery?"
The Chief Councillor came to his feet. "I?" he howled.
"I don't mean you," you," cried Lamorak at once. "I used the p.r.o.noun in its indefinite sense. Could cried Lamorak at once. "I used the p.r.o.noun in its indefinite sense. Could someone someone learn how to handle Ragusnik's machinery?" learn how to handle Ragusnik's machinery?"
Slowly, the pa.s.sion drained out of the Chief Councillor. "It is in the handbooks, I am certain-though I a.s.sure you I have never concerned myself with it."
"Then couldn't someone learn the procedure and subst.i.tute for Ragusnik until the man gives in?"
Blei said, "Who would agree to do such a thing? Not I, under any circ.u.mstances."
Lamorak thought fleetingly of Earthly taboos that might be almost as strong. He thought of cannibalism, incest, a pious man cursing G.o.d. He said, "But you must have made provision for vacancy in the Ragusnik job. Suppose he died."
"Then his son would automatically succeed to his job, or his nearest other relative," said Blei.
"What if he had no adult relatives? What if all his family died at once?"
"That has never happened; it will never happen."
The Chief Councillor added, "If there were danger of it, we might, perhaps, place a baby or two with the Ragusniks and have it raised to the profession."
"Ah. And how would you choose that baby?"
"From among children of mothers who died in childbirth, as we choose the future Ragusnik bride."
"Then choose a subst.i.tute Ragusnik now, by lot," said Lamorak.
The Chief Councillor said, "No! Impossible! "No! Impossible! How can you suggest that? If we select a baby, that baby is brought up to the life; it knows no other. At this point, it would be necessary to choose an adult and subject him to Ragusnik-hood. No, Dr. Lamorak, we are neither monsters nor abandoned brutes." How can you suggest that? If we select a baby, that baby is brought up to the life; it knows no other. At this point, it would be necessary to choose an adult and subject him to Ragusnik-hood. No, Dr. Lamorak, we are neither monsters nor abandoned brutes."
No use, thought Lamorak helplessly. No use, unless- No use, unless- He couldn't bring himself to face that unless unless just yet. just yet.
That night, Lamorak slept scarcely at all. Ragusnik asked for only the basic elements of humanity. But opposing that were thirty thousand Elseverians who faced death.
The welfare of thirty thousand on one side; the just demands of one family on the other. Could one say that thirty thousand who would support such injustice deserved to die? Injustice by what standards? Earth's? Elsevere's? And who was Lamorak that he should judge?
And Ragusnik? He was willing to let thirty thousand die, including men and women who merely accepted a situation they had been taught to accept and could not change if they wished to. And children who had nothing at all to do with it.
Thirty thousand on one side; a single family on the other.
Lamorak made his decision in something that was almost despair; in the morning he called the Chief Councillor.
He said, "Sir, if you can find a subst.i.tute, Ragusnik will see that he has lost all chance to force a decision in his favor and will return to work."
"There can be no subst.i.tute," sighed the Chief Councillor; "I have explained that."
"No subst.i.tute among the Elseverians, but I am not an Elseverian; it doesn't matter to me. I will subst.i.tute."
They were excited, much more excited than Lamorak himself. A dozen times they asked him if he was serious.
Lamorak had not shaved, and he felt sick, "Certainly, I'm serious. And any time Ragusnik acts like this, you can always import a subst.i.tute. No other world has the taboo and there will always be plenty of temporary subst.i.tutes available if you pay enough."
(He was betraying a brutally exploited man, and he knew it. But he told himself desperately: Except for ostracism, he's very well treated. Very well. Except for ostracism, he's very well treated. Very well.) They gave him the handbooks and he spent six hours, reading and rereading. There was no use asking questions. None of the Elseverians knew anything about the job, except for what was in the handbook; and all seemed uncomfortable if the details were as much as mentioned.
"Maintain zero reading of galvanometer A-2 at all times during red signal of the Lunge-howler," read Lamorak. "Now what's a Lunge-howler?"
"There will be a sign," muttered Blei, and the Elseverians looked at each other hang-dog and bent their heads to stare at their finger-ends.
They left him long before he reached the small rooms that were the central headquarters of generations of working Ragusniks, serving their world. He had specific instructions concerning which turnings to take and what level to reach, but they hung back and let him proceed alone.
He went through the rooms painstakingly, identifying the instruments and controls, following the schematic diagrams in the handbook.
There's a Lunge-howler, he thought, with gloomy satisfaction. The sign did indeed say so. It had a semi-circular face bitten into holes that were obviously designed to glow in separate colors. Why a "howler" then? he thought, with gloomy satisfaction. The sign did indeed say so. It had a semi-circular face bitten into holes that were obviously designed to glow in separate colors. Why a "howler" then?
He didn't know.
Somewhere, thought Lamorak, thought Lamorak, somewhere wastes are acc.u.mulating, pushing against gears and exits, pipelines and stills, waiting to be handled in half a hundred ways. Now they just acc.u.mulate. somewhere wastes are acc.u.mulating, pushing against gears and exits, pipelines and stills, waiting to be handled in half a hundred ways. Now they just acc.u.mulate.
Not without a tremor, he pulled the first switch as indicated by the handbook in its directions for "Initiation." A gentle murmur of life made itself felt through the floors and walls. He turned a k.n.o.b and lights went on.
At each step, he consulted the handbook, though he knew it by heart; and with each step, the rooms brightened and the dial-indicators sprang into motion and a humming grew louder.
Somewhere deep in the factories, the acc.u.mulated wastes were being drawn into the proper channels.
A high-pitched signal sounded and startled Lamorak out of his painful concentration. It was the communications signal and Lamorak fumbled his receiver into action.
Ragusnik's head showed, startled; then slowly, the incredulity and outright shock faded from his eyes. "That's "That's how it is, then." how it is, then."
"I'm not an Elseverian, Ragusnik; I don't mind doing this."
"But what business is it of yours? Why do you interfere?"
"I'm on your side, Ragusnik, but I must do this."
"Why, if you're on my side? Do they treat people on your world as they treat me here?"
"Not any longer. But even if you are right, there are thirty thousand people on Elsevere to be considered."
"They would have given in; you've ruined my only chance."
"They would not not have given in. And in a way, you've won; they know now that you're dissatisfied. Until now, they never dreamed a Ragusnik could be unhappy, that he could make trouble." have given in. And in a way, you've won; they know now that you're dissatisfied. Until now, they never dreamed a Ragusnik could be unhappy, that he could make trouble."
"What if they know? Now all they need do is hire an Outworlder anytime."
Lamorak shook his head violently. He had thought this through in these last bitter hours. "The fact that they know means that the Elseverians will begin to think about you; some will begin to wonder if it's right to treat a human so. And if Outworlders are hired, they'll spread the word that this goes on upon Elsevere and Galactic public opinion will be in your favor."
"And?"
"Things will improve. In your son's time, things will be much better."
"In my son's time," said Ragusnik, his cheeks sagging. "I might have had it now. Well, I lose. I'll go back to the job."
Lamorak felt an overwhelming relief. "If you'll come here now, sir, you may have your job and I'll consider it an honor to shake your hand."
Ragusnik's head snapped up and filled with a gloomy pride. "You call me 'sir' and offer to shake my hand. Go about your business, Earthman, and leave me to my work, for I would not shake yours."
Lamorak returned the way he had come, relieved that the crisis was over, and profoundly depressed, too.
He stopped in surprise when he found a section of corridor cordoned off, so he could not pa.s.s. He looked about for alternate routes, then startled at a magnified voice above his head. "Dr. Lamorak do you hear me? This is Councillor Blei."
Lamorak looked up. The voice came over some sort of public address system, but he saw no sign of an outlet.
He called out, "Is anything wrong? Can you hear me?"
"I hear you."
Instinctively, Lamorak was shouting. "Is anything wrong? There seems to be a block here. Are there complications with Ragusnik?"
"Ragusnik has gone to work," came Blei's voice. "The crisis is over, and you must make ready to leave."
"Leave?"
"Leave Elsevere; a ship is being made ready for you now."
"But wait a bit." Lamorak was confused by this sudden leap of events. "I haven't completed my gathering of data."
Blei's voice said, "This cannot be helped. You will be directed to the ship and your belongings will be sent after you by servo-mechanisms. We trust- we trust-"
Something was becoming clear to Lamorak. "You trust what?" what?"
"We trust you will make no attempt to see or speak directly to any Elseverian. And of course we hope you will avoid embarra.s.sment by not attempting to return to Elsevere at any time in the future. A colleague of yours would be welcome if further data concerning us is needed."
"I understand," said Lamorak, tonelessly. Obviously, he had himself become a Ragusnik. He had handled the controls that in turn had handled the wastes; he was ostracized. He was a corpse-handler, a swineherd, an inside man at the skonk works.
He said, "Good-bye."
Blei's voice said, "Before we direct you, Dr. Lamorak-. On behalf of the Council of Elsevere, I thank you for your help in this crisis."
"You're welcome," said Lamorak, bitterly.
The Machine That Won the War
The celebration had a long way to go and even in the silent depths of Multivac's underground chambers, it hung in the air.
If nothing else, there was the mere fact of isolation and silence. For the first time in a decade, technicians were not scurrying about the vitals of the giant computer, the soft lights did not wink out their erratic patterns, the flow of information in and out had halted.
It would not be halted long, of course, for the needs of peace would be pressing. Yet now, for a day, perhaps for a week, even Multivac might celebrate the great time, and rest.
Lamar Swift took off the military cap he was wearing and looked down the long and empty main corridor of the enormous computer. He sat down rather wearily in one of the technician's swing-stools, and his uniform, in which he had never been comfortable, took on a heavy and wrinkled appearance.
He said, "I'll miss it all after a grisly fashion. It's hard to remember when we weren't at war with Deneb, and it seems against nature now to be at peace and to look at the stars without anxiety."
The two men with the Executive Director of the Solar Federation were both younger than Swift. Neither was as gray. Neither looked quite as tired.
John Henderson, thin-lipped and finding it hard to control the relief he felt in the midst of triumph, said, "They're destroyed! They're destroyed! It's what I keep saying to myself over and over and I still can't believe it. We all talked so much, over so many years, about the menace hanging over Earth and all its worlds, over every human being, and all the time it was true, every word of it. And now we're alive and it's the Denebians who are shattered and destroyed. They'll be no menace now, ever again."
"Thanks to Multivac," said Swift, with a quiet glance at the imperturbable Jablonsky, who through all the war had been Chief Interpreter of science's oracle. "Right, Max?"