Short Fiction Poul Anderson (reading a book .TXT) đ
- Author: Poul Anderson
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âCasimir,â she answered, without looking up.
âFirst name, I mean. Mine is Simon.â
âElena, if you must know. Four packs, a hundred rounds plus ten in the chamber now. If we have to shoot them all, weâd better be good. These arenât magnums, so you have to hit a man just right to put him out of action.â
âWell,â shrugged Dalgetty, âweâll just have to lumber along as best we can. I oak we donât make ashes of ourselves.â
âOh, no!â He couldnât tell whether it was appreciation or dismay. âAt a time like this too.â
âIt doesnât make me very popular,â he agreed. âEverybody says to elm with me. But, as they say in France, ve are alo-o-one now, mon cherry, and treeâs a crowd.â
âDonât get ideas,â she snapped.
âOh, Iâll get plenty of ideas, though I admit this isnât the place to carry them out.â Dalgetty folded his arms behind his head and blinked up at the sky. âMan, could I use a nice tall mint julep right now.â
Elena frowned. âIf youâre trying to convince me youâre just a simple American boy you might as well quit,â she said thinly. âThat sort ofâ âof emotional control, in a situation like this, only makes you less human.â
Dalgetty swore at himself. She was too damn quick, that was all. And her intelligence might be enough for her to learn.â ââ âŠ
Will I have to kill her?
He drove the thought from him. He could overcome his own conditioning about anything, including murder, if he wanted to, but heâd never want to. No, that was out. âHow did you get here?â he asked. âHow much does the F.B.I. know?â
âWhy should I tell you?â
âWell, itâd be nice to know if we can expect reinforcements.â
âWe canât.â Her voice was bleak. âI might as well let you know. The Institute could find out anyway through its government connectionsâ âthe damned octopus!â he looked into the sky. Dalgettyâs gaze followed the curve of her high cheekbones. Unusual faceâ âyou didnât often see such an oddly pleasing arrangement. The slight departure from symmetry.â ââ âŠ
âWeâve wondered about Bertrand Meade for some time, as every thinking person has,â she began tonelessly. âItâs too bad there are so few thinking people in the country.â
âSomething the Institute is trying to correct,â Dalgetty put in.
Elena ignored him. âIt was finally decided to work agents into his various organizations. Iâve been with Thomas Bancroft for about two years now. My background was carefully faked and Iâm a useful assistant. But even so it was only a short while back that I got sufficiently into his confidence to be given some inkling of whatâs going on. As far as I know no other F.B.I. operative has learned as much.â
âAnd what have you found out?â
âEssentially the same things you were describing in the cell, plus more details on the actual work theyâre doing. Apparently the Institute was onto Meadeâs plans long before we were. It doesnât speak well for your purposes, whatever they are, that you havenât asked us for help before this.
âThe decision to kidnap Dr. Tighe was taken only a couple of weeks ago. I havenât had a chance to communicate with my associates in the force. Thereâs always someone around, watching. The setupâs well arranged, so that even those not under suspicion donât have much chance to work unobserved, once theyâve gotten high enough to know anything important. Everybody spies on everybody else and submits periodic reports.â
She gave him a harsh look. âSo here I am. No official person knows my whereabouts and if I should disappear it would be called a deplorable accident. Nothing could be proved and I doubt if the F.B.I. would ever get another chance to do any effective spying.â
âBut you have proof enough for a raid,â he ventured.
âNo, we havenât. Up till the time I was told Dr. Tighe was going to be snatched I didnât know for certain that anything illegal was going on. Thereâs nothing in the law against like-minded people knowing each other and having a sort of club. Even if they hire tough characters and arm them the law canât protest. The Act of Nineteen Ninety-nine effectively forbids private armies but it would be hard to prove Meade has one.â
âHe doesnât really,â said Dalgetty. âThose goons arenât much more than what they claim to beâ âbodyguards. This whole fight is primarily on aâ âa mental level.â
âSo I gather. And can a free country forbid debate or propaganda? Not to mention that Meadeâs people include some powerful men in the government itself. If I could get away from here alive weâd be able to hang a kidnapping charge on Thomas Bancroft, with assorted charges of threat, mayhem and conspiracy, but it wouldnât touch the main group.â Her fists clenched. âItâs like fighting shadows.â
âYou war against the sunset-glow. The judgment follows fast my lord!â quoted Dalgetty. Heriotsâ Ford was one of the few poems he liked. âGetting Bancroft out of the way would be something,â he added. âThe way to fight Meade is not to attack him physically but to change the conditions under which he must work.â
âChange them to what?â Her eyes challenged his. He noticed that there were small gold flecks in the gray. âWhat does the Institute want?â
âA sane world,â he replied.
âIâve wondered,â she said. âMaybe Bancroft is more nearly right than you. Maybe I should be on his side after all.â
âI take it you favor libertarian government,â he said. âIn the past itâs always broken down sooner or later and the main reason has been that there arenât enough people with the intelligence, alertness and toughness to resist the inevitable encroachments of power on liberty.
âThe Institute is trying to do two thingsâ âcreate such a citizenry and simultaneously to build up a society which itself produces men of that kind and reinforces those traits in them. It can be done, given
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