Part 17 (1/2)

As I came down the Capitol steps, I felt perfectly sober. No matter how much I'd had to drink, the booze couldn't stop me from knowing what I knew, from seeing the situation in all its appalling, overwhelming clarity.

I knew, I'd known all along, and I couldn't pretend that I didn't.

I walked into the lobby next morning with Kim on one side and the lawyer on the other. Earl was in the lobby, with Lillian standing there clutching her purse.

I couldn't look at them. I walked past them, and the Marines in their gas masks opened the door, and I walked into the hearing room and announced my intention to testify before the committee as a friendly witness.

Later, the committee developed a procedure for friendly witnesses. There would be a closed session first, just the witness and the committee, a sort of dress rehearsal so that everyone would know what they were going to talk about and what information was going to be developed, so things would go smoothly in public session. That procedure hadn't been developed when I testified, so everything went a little roughly.

I sweated under the spotlights, so terrified I could barely speak-all I could see were those nine sets of evil little eyes staring at me from across the room, and all I could hear were their voices, booming at me from the loudspeakers like the voice of G.o.d.

Wood started off, asking me the opening questions: who I was, where I lived, what I did for a living. Then he started going into my a.s.sociations, starting with Earl. His time ran out and he turned me over to Kearney.

”Are you aware that Mr. Sanderson was once a member of the Communist party?”

I didn't even hear the question. Kearney had to repeat it.

”Huh? Oh. He told me, yes.”

”Do you know if he is currently a member?”

”I believe he split with the party after the n.a.z.i-Soviet thing.”

”In 1939.”

”If that's what, when, the n.a.z.i-Soviet thing happened. '39. I guess.” I'd forgotten every piece of stagecraft I'd never known. I was fumbling with my tie, mumbling into the mike, sweating. Trying not to look into those nine sets of eyes.

”Are you aware of any Communist affiliations maintained by Mr. Sanderson subsequent to the n.a.z.i-Soviet pact?”

”No.”

Then it came. ”He has mentioned to you no names belonging to Communist or Communist-affiliated groups?”

I said the first thing that came into my head. Not even thinking.

”There was some girl, I think, in Italy. That he knew during the war. I think her name was Lena Goldoni. She's an actress now.”

Those sets of eyes didn't even blink. But I could see little smiles on their faces. And I could see the reporters out of the corner of my eye, bending suddenly over their notepads.

”Could you spell the name, please?”

So there was the spike in Earl's coffin. Whatever could have been said about Earl up to then, it would have at least revealed himself true to his principles. The betrayal of Lillian implied other betrayals, perhaps of his country. I'd destroyed him with just a few words, and at the time I didn't even know what it was I was doing.

I babbled on. In a sweat to get it over, I said anything that came into my head. I talked about loving America, and about how I just said those nice things about Henry Wallace to please Mr. Holmes, and I'm sure it was a foolish thing to have done. I didn't want to change the Southern way of life, the Southern way of life was a fine way of life. I saw Gone With the Wind Gone With the Wind twice, a great picture. Mrs. Bethune was just a friend of Earl's I got photographed with. Velde took over the questioning. twice, a great picture. Mrs. Bethune was just a friend of Earl's I got photographed with. Velde took over the questioning.

”Are you aware of the names of any so-called aces who may be living in this country today?”

”No. None, I mean, besides those who have already been given subpoenas by the committee.”

”Do you know if Earl Sanderson knows any such names?”

”No.”

”He has not confided to you in any way?”

I took a drink of water. How many times could they repeat this? ”If he knows the names of any aces, he has not mentioned them in my presence.”

”Do you know if Mr. Harstein knows of any such names?”

On and on. ”No.”

”Do you believe that Dr. Tachyon knows any such names?”

They'd already dealt with this. I was just confirming what they knew. ”He's treated many people afflicted by the virus. I a.s.sume he knows their names. But he has never mentioned any names to me.”

”Does Mrs. van Renssaeler know the existence of any other aces?”

I started to shake my head, then a thought hit me, and I stammered out, ”No. Not in herself, no.”

Velde plodded on. ”Does Mr. Holmes-” he started, and then Nixon sensed something here, in the way I'd just answered the question, and he asked Velde's permission to interrupt. Nixon was the smart one, no doubt. His eager, young chipmunk face looked at me intently over his microphone.

”May I request the witness to clarify that statement?”

I was horrified. I took another drink of water and tried to think of a way out of this. I couldn't. I asked Nixon to repeat the question. He did. My answer came out before he finished.

”Mrs. van Renssaeler has absorbed the mind of Dr. Tachyon. She would know any names that he would know.”

The strange thing was, they hadn't figured it out about Blythe and Tachyon up till then. They had to have the big jock from Dakota come in and put the pieces together for them.

I should have just taken a gun and shot her. It would have been quicker.

Chairman Wood thanked me at the end of my testimony. When the chairman of HUAC said thank you, it meant you were okay as far as they were concerned, and other people could a.s.sociate with you without fear of being branded a pariah. It meant you could have a job in the United States of America.

I walked out of the hearing room with my lawyer on one side and Kim on the other. I didn't meet the eyes of my friends. Within an hour I was on a plane back to California.