Part 4 (2/2)

Dangerous to whom? To the entrenched powers and their jackals. But the oppressed peoples of Earth had nothing to lose, really, except their lives, and many of them seemed quite willing to sacrifice those. Did the rights of man stop at a full belly, or was there more?

He tried to take refuge in cynicism. After all, he was well off. He was a successful jackal. But that wouldn't work either. He required a more basic philosophy.

One thing that held him back was the thought that if he became a rebel, he would be pitted against his friends--not only those of Earth, but that strange joyous crew out in s.p.a.ce. He couldn't see fighting against them.

Then there was the very practical consideration that he hadn't the faintest idea of how to contact the underground even if he wanted to.

And he'd make a h.e.l.l of a poor conspirator.

He was still in an unhappy and undecided whirlpool when the monitors came for him.

They knocked on the door at midnight, as was their custom, and he felt such an utter panic that he could barely make it across the apartment to let them in. The four burly men wavered before his eyes, and there was a roaring and a darkness in his head. They arrested him without ceremony on suspicion of treason, which meant that habeas corpus and even the right of trial didn't apply. Two of them escorted him to a car, the other two stayed to search his dwelling.

At headquarters, he was put in a cell and left to stew for some hours.

Then a pair of men in the uniform of the federal police led him to a questioning chamber. He was given a chair and a smiling, soft-voiced man--almost fatherly, with his plump cheeks and white hair--offered him a cigarette and began talking to him.

”Just relax, Dr. Lancaster. This is pretty routine. If you've nothing to hide then you've nothing to fear. Just tell the truth.”

”Of course.” It was a dry whisper.

”Oh, you're thirsty. So sorry. Alec, get Dr. Lancaster a gla.s.s of water, will you, please? And by the way, my name is Harris. Let's call this a friendly conference, eh?”

Lancaster drank avidly. Harris' manner was disarming, and the physicist felt more at ease. This was--well, it was just a mistake. Or maybe a simple spot check. Nothing to fear. He wouldn't be sent to camp--not he.

Such things happened to other people, not to Allen Lancaster.

”You've been immunized against neoscop?” asked Harris.

”Yes. It's routine for my rank and over, you know. In case we should ever be kidnapped--but why am I telling _you_ this?” Lancaster tried to smile. His face felt stiff.

”Hm. Yes. Too bad.”

”Of course, I've no objection at all to your using a lie detector on me.”

”Fine, fine.” Harris beamed and gestured to one of the expressionless policemen. A table was wheeled forth, bearing the instrument. ”I'm glad you're so cooperative, Dr. Lancaster. You've no idea how much trouble it saves me--and you.”

They ran a few harmless calibrating questions. Then Harris said, still smiling, ”And now tell me, Dr. Lancaster. Where were you really this summer?”

Lancaster felt his heart leap into his throat, and knew in a sudden terror that the dials were registering his reaction. ”Why--I took my vacation,” he stammered. ”I was in the Southwest--”

”Mmmm--the machine doesn't quite agree with you.” Harris remained impishly cheerful.

”But it's _true_! You can check back and--”

”There are such things as doubles, you know. Come, come, now, let's not waste the whole night. We both have many other things to do.”

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