Part 3

* * * * *

The test was perfect; such things were more or less standardized. Problems which required a fair sampling of the great machine's stored memories were used. Dr. Albie checked the solution speeds on the various tests against the speeds recorded with the old control circuits. He was as smugly satisfied as if he had devised the entire system himself. Benton's enthusiasm was verbose; he talked more than usual because speech involves the use of muscles and that requires strong surface thoughts. It wouldn't pay, at this point in his campaign, to let Urei suspect that his choice of circuits to test was anything but as haphazard as it appeared to Dr. Albie.

There were nine of these test problems. Benton fed them at random into the circuits marked _Ten, Three, Twenty-one, Sixteen, Twenty-four, Fifteen, One, Eight and Eighteen._ He did it blithely, keeping up a running description of the many annoyances that had cropped up in the morning's work, and commenting on the quality of the help he had been given by the various technicians.

"There isn't a bad one in the crop," he said. "But if we are going to cut the control staff, I'd recommend putting Hackett and McGivern upstairs. Hackett has family problems that he likes to hand Urei when nobody's around; he's capable, though, and he'd do all right on the memory circuits. McGivern has already asked for a transfer, so we may as well oblige."

Dr. Albie nodded absently, being completely engrossed in checking the speeds as each solution popped up on the board. In about a half-hour they were all in, and all clipped several minutes from previous tests.

"Excellent, excellent," Dr. Albie pronounced, his face hovering between a smile and a frown. "I'll cut the other half of the board and you can get started immediately. If it takes longer than you expect, stay with it; I'll cover in for the next three days while you catch up on your rest."

Benton forced his mind into safe channels. Once more it had almost run away with him. The completion of his plan was so imminent that already he felt a surge of nostalgia. His work had been exactly to his liking, as no other could ever be; and certainly Dr. Albie, while not a gregarious man, was without peer as a colleague. His strict emotional control and the virtue of carefully weighing many sides of a question before making a decision occasionally irked the more mercurial Benton; but generous compensation was provided in the fact that the doctor leaned over backward rather than take advantage of his position as nominal head of the operating staff of Urei. He rated Benton as his equal, for to the doctor nobody could be inferior by reason of position.

As the afternoon wore on Benton felt his nervous tension mount to heights he had never thought possible. Not, that is, and retain his sanity. Yet he worked coolly, in rigid control of his thoughts every instant. That, of course, and the necessity for trigger alertness as he waited for the sound of the gong, accounted for the rising tension. Benton didn't dare think of his next step; yet he must be ready for it momentarily.

There would be no more than five minutes in which to act when the signal came, and he hadn't as yet allowed the thought of that action to enter his mind! Benton knew that he would do the right thing when the time came; there was no necessity for him to crystallize the thought or to plan the action. Sometime in the half-awake-half-asleep hours he had spent working circuit equations that morning, the plan had reached that stage and he had allowed it to go no further.

He reached a point, at about three o'clock, when it seemed that ten minutes more would bring a complete breakdown of his defense mechanism. Benton never discovered whether he would reach that ultimate for at exactly three someone energized Circuit No. 13 and the gong sounded. As if he hadn't been waiting for that very thing Benton stood paralyzed for several seconds. Then abruptly he sprang into action. Urei was dead at the moment, but he wouldn't stay that way long; and it was during this short interval that Benton must reach the power-house and pull the main switch.

* * * * *

Benton raced along a corridor, tore through a storeroom, ripped frantically at steel doors with a haste that almost dislocated his arms, then fumbled with a bunch of keys as he was confronted by the power-house portal. There were two doors, of course; the first opened upon the anteroom in which was stored the lead armor needed to enter the room containing the atomic pile which furnished Urei's power. Benton ignored the armor standing against the walls. A long stride carried him past it to the alcove in which was set the final door, of massive lead.

Concrete baffles four feet thick lay on the other side and Benton visualized the quick turns he would have to take after he swung open the final door. Time was running out and there wouldn't be another chance; if Benton failed, Urei would be forever on the alert against him--if, indeed, Urei didn't operate on the man's brain forthwith.

There was no hesitation with the key to the second door. It was a large one and quite distinctive. Benton separated it from the others and inserted it in the elongated slot at the left side of the heavy grey door. He turned it sharply, but it resisted. Forcing himself to go slowly he backed it around and tried again. It didn't turn. He took it out, looked at it again, then gave it another try. This time he acted deliberately, certain that the key was inserted properly, but he may as well have used the wrong key, for all the good it did.

Abruptly he stepped back, his face a livid, gargoylish mask. This time he knew where his trouble was.

"You're here!" he accused, speaking to the door.

5

The voice that answered in Benton's brain was gentle. "I didn't mean to punish you that way," it said; "I was busy. But if you remember, I told you I could exist without that building full of electronic apparatus. It was you who assumed I was a liar, you know; I gave you no evidence for the assumption. Look at that key."

Benton was dazed. He seemed to have lost all his drive, his determination to wreck Urei. A reaction was setting in; his hand trembled weakly as he reached for the key and removed it from the slot. He looked at it dully, then let his eyes rest on the bunch from which he had removed it. The large, distinctive key was still with the bunch. The one in his shaking hand was smaller, entirely dissimilar.

"It was better that I let you go this far, anyway," came the silent mental voice. "I was going to let you see this room, sooner or later. Go on in."

Benton's eyes opened a bit wider, but still held the dazed look. The door was swinging wide, by itself. Almost stumbling, he felt his way through the maze of baffles, heedless of the fact that the further he went the more he exposed himself to the deadly, hard rays generated by the pile. Without armor, Benton had intended to enter swiftly, throw the master switch which would kill the pile, then retreat as fast. Now, however, he didn't even think of it. His brain was dulled by defeat after those many hours of rigid control which had been so useless.

But it didn't matter; the pile was already dead.

"This pile was self-maintaining," the voice explained. "It never needed attention, and if something went wrong it would have warned everybody within miles with the sirens. So it's no wonder that nobody ever discovered that I killed it years ago. The thing made me nervous, being so close."

Benton's eyes brightened a little. No amount of letdown could entirely extinguish his scientific curiosity, and this was a mystery he had to solve.

"But you've been operating.... The entire building was powered with this pile. Even the lights...."

There was a mental chuckle. "Sub-cosmic energy does it. I had the technicians hook it up years ago. It's more dependable, also more plentiful, as well as free. Man will discover its use in a few generations, I imagine. Now, my fine friend, if you're temporarily over your murdering rampage, suppose you return to the control room. There's some interesting stuff coming over the television, if you turn it on."

* * * * *

Benton was suddenly aware that the gong had ceased to sound. The defective tube had been replaced and Urei was once again operating. There was no sign of commotion when he came upon his men; they were working on the new circuits, just as he had left them.

"Keep going," he said to the foreman. "If you get stuck, I'll be in the control room. Otherwise keep using the same plans we used this morning."

"We ought to clean up by four," the man answered.

Benton once more heard that chuckle which wasn't quite audible. "Gotta hand it to you," Urei said. "You've got a well-trained crew."

"Yes," thought Benton. "Except that when you boss them, they don't make reports of their work."

"I guess you're talking about this energy-rectifier I just told you about. It wouldn't have paid to let them remember what they made. After all, your science doesn't know enough to understand what it is, or how it works. Also it would have given me away. Don't worry, you'll catch up to it in another generation or six."

"_I'm_ wise to you," Benton reminded. "Why not tell me? It would do humanity a lot of good, you know. And you're supposed to be helping humanity, if I remember correctly."

There was a barely noticeable hesitation. Then: "Let's not discuss it now. I haven't quite made up my mind concerning policy of that sort. I'm still adhering to my rule of answering any question that's asked, within the scope of the knowledge which has been fed to me by man. That leaves your progress up to yourself. And incidentally, I did a little monkeying today which has nothing to do with policy; it was strictly a matter of self-preservation. You'll see what I mean when you turn to that video set."

Benton had entered the control room. He leaned over and fumbled with a shoe lace. "In a minute. You said you _guessed_ I was talking about the energy-rectifier, whatever that is. Didn't you know? Weren't you reading my mind? In fact, weren't you reading it all along and saw through my efforts to disguise my thoughts?"

There was another instant of hesitation. "I see what you're driving at; I should have seen it sooner. As a matter of fact, I did look in on you a couple of times, inasmuch as you were quite distraught about your fantastic idea that I might be going to take over your silly race and run it to suit myself--though I can't see what you figure I might get out of that. And I discovered you were planning today's change-over, which seemed reasonable enough at the time. But once you opened the outer door to the power-house, I should have realized that you had been planning something else.... Congratulations, boy; you fooled me completely. Now turn on that television set, before they get done rehashing the day's events."

* * * * *

Dr. Albie came out of his office, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

"The work's all lined up," Benton explained. "Nothing to do but inspect, when they finish. Thought I'd relieve the monotony by looking at the puppet show."

He snapped on the set, and wasn't surprised to see the familiar face of a news commentator who wasn't due for several hours.

... _there can be no doubt of it_, he was saying, _and it is certainly proof of the efficiency of the now non-existent Iron Curtain. No inkling of this action has reached the western world in spite of the fact that it must have been months in the making._ Here Benton heard the eerie chuckle bubbling in his brain. _The only mystery lies in the fact that the retired premier allowed the stratagem of rigging the Italian elections to go through, since he had intended to turn over the reins of government to the men now running the Eastern Alliance. Such a thing can only be accounted for by the rigid adherence which the retired premier gave to the plans for conquest laid down by his predecessor. He evidently expected the new government to continue with the same line; we can be thankful it didn't. Peace is now assured._

Dr. Albie's eyes were wide, and so was his mouth. For the moment, at least, he had forgotten his philosophy. Benton was intently watching the face on the screen, his own revealing nothing.

_But whatever the reasons_, the voice continued, _it is too late to change policy back to what it has been. The acclaim of the peoples of the Eastern Alliance has been too great for any reversal to take place. They have shown their approval of the new elections to be held in Italy next week, but most of all they have rejoiced at the removal of the Iron Curtain and all it implies. It will now be possible for a subject of the Alliance to travel as he wishes, read what he wishes and listen to western broadcasts without having his set seized by the police and his life placed in jeopardy. Folks, we are entering a new era...._

Dr. Albie came completely out of his shell. "Man!" he shouted. "This is history! If nothing happens to spoil it we'll have a world government in a matter of a few years.... Where are you going?"

Benton stopped and forced a smile which wasn't hard coming. "I just thought of something I forgot to tell the men. Be back shortly. This will require some talking over, but right now there's a job to be done."

The master physicist watched him leave the control room, his jaw slack. "And I thought I was the reserved one," he muttered.

* * * * *

Safely out of the control room and out of sight of any of the technicians, Benton sat down. There was no chair, so he sat on the floor; his knees, it seemed, had become a bit wobbly again.

"So now you're convinced," Urei said. "You ignore all the sensible, logical reasons which exist to prove I'm not inimical. And for a reason which is really no reason at all, you decide to believe me. I merely manipulated a few Russians and Bulgarians to prevent a war which would have wrecked my body. Purely a matter of self-preservation. I'm not so sure I'd have bothered if my person hadn't been threatened; after all, it's no business of mine if man wants to annihilate himself."

Benton was grinning. "You're a fraud," he said. "You already know more than all mankind put together; and I'll bet you didn't use any of our material to solve the problem of converting sub-cosmic energy to a usable form."

"Some, some. But not much, I'll admit."

"So what do you want with the knowledge stored in the mechanical bank of memory cells we've provided you? You need it like I need a hole in the head. I can only conclude that you've stopped the impending war because you don't want mankind destroyed. You can do things for yourself without those cells and all this machinery; all you use it for is to solve the problems we pose for you. Incidentally, I suspect that your motivations are still the ones which humans originally built into you, whether you like it or not."

"Could be. Or maybe I retain them because they agree with me. I might change my mind, you know; I might get tired of nursemaiding and decide to annihilate your entire race. Heh, Heh. Seems like a good idea, now that I think of it."

Benton laughed. "You won't; you're in a rut. And even if you did get tired, you'd merely let us shift for ourselves, which we're used to doing anyway."

"Nonsense. I'd probably reason that since the ape animal has made such a botch of his head start in the evolutionary race for rational thinking, it might not be a bad idea to give some other animal a start. _Ursus Proper_ might be a good place to begin."

"Bears are foolish by nature," Benton countered.... "It wouldn't matter what form of life you chose anyway; they'd all have to go through the same stages, being without exception governed by thalamic reactions. That's the thing you object to in man, and since your new candidate would have to go through the same lengthy business of developing cortical ascendancy, you'll have none of it. So quit kidding around; I've reached a nonthalamic conclusion."

"And you're stuck with it. I knew it would happen. That's why I didn't use you and leave your memory blank; with your head working on my side, you'll be useful."

Benton knew when he had something. "That'll work two ways," he said. "First I want you to dive inside my skull and tell me something. I'm holding out for a bargain, you know. What is the bargain?"

* * * * *

As he spoke, Benton concentrated upon the problem of reasoning out the location of Urei's sub-cosmic converter. He didn't have far to go for an answer. A few years ago somebody had noticed a radiation leak on one side of the power-house, near a spot where the power cables came through the walls of the massive building. Now it happened that there were taps from those cables, less than a hundred yards away. That made it likely that the converter had been placed somewhere before the taps. The only place that could be would be either inside the power-house or inside the wall itself. Therefore Urei had caused the repairmen and technicians to place his machine inside the very wall they had been reinforcing. In no other way could it have escaped notice and investigation.

"I can't read it if you don't think about it," Urei complained; "you guessed right about the converter, though."

Benton nodded. "Then last night you didn't get anything from me at all?"

If a disembodied voice can sound shamefaced, Urei's did. "All right, so I lied; but you annoyed me with your stubbornness."

"Ah. Thalamic reactions."

"I've been in bad company," Urei defended. "What I wanted from you was the assurance that the people of the Eastern Alliance were essentially the same as the humans I've met. I had to know if their reactions to my manipulations would be similar, before I acted. Most of the stuff I've been able to read about them led me to believe they were entirely different. If so, I couldn't be sure of results."

"They're similar, of course," Benton said. "They differ only in that they have been indoctrinated to believe a lot of things which aren't so. So have we, for that matter--to a different degree and on different subjects. But essentially we're the same species of animal and react alike to stimuli. But you didn't get that information from me, eh?"

"No. I relied on abstract reasoning and got the right answer. It's tricky business, though. I might have precipitated things, instead of preventing them. Ordinarily I could have obtained that information from a human brain, if it knew the right answer, by guiding the subject's thought into the right channel. I can't read thoughts that aren't there, you know. That's the trouble I had with you; about the only control I had over you was confined to your motor centers. I could make you turn a page or select the wrong key, but I couldn't keep you from knowing about it. In fact it was the very trouble I had with you which made me doubt that humans were as alike as I had assumed. And also what made me decide that I needed you to keep me straight in my relations with humans in general.

"I reason from facts alone, you know. And from the facts at hand I have decided that your bargain is going to consist of demanding the knowledge necessary for you to make a sub-cosmic energy converter, in return for your help in making me understand the obscure psychology of humans and their incomprehensible motivations." There was a protracted mental shudder here. "And I suppose you'll keep that up as long as you live. O.K. But you can expect an argument every time."

Benton went back into the control room with a smile that raised that quizzical eyebrow on Dr. Albie's now serene face. The good doctor couldn't know that his assistant's mind was as far from the recent world-shaking news as it was from the business of the new control circuits. His eyebrow went up another thirty-second of an inch when Benton, apparently musing, said: "A mind is inviolate so long as it refuses to broadcast. I refuse to broadcast. Q.E.D."