Alfred Bester. The Demolished Man
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...ic hysteria and emitted a plaintive wailwhich proved it was neither weed nor Glow-wart but the disconcerting
Pussy-Willow of Venus.
glared at the small man. "Semantic escape, Bernard. You live in terms of the
label, not the object. It's your escape from reality. What are you running
away from, Bernard?"
a primitive Bible. Sam, an ill-tempered Messiah, glowering at his humble
disciples. Around them the glittering silica stones of the rock-garden,
crawling with the dry motley-colored Venus plants. Overhead, the blinding
nacre glow; and in the background, as far as the eye could reach, the red,
purple, and violet Bad-Lands of the planet.
make-believe courtesan anyway?"
Dr. @kins."
continued on the TP level: "You're delighted with yourself because you're a
woman, aren't you? It's your substitute for living. It's your phantasy. ` I'm a
woman,' you tell yourself. `Therefore, men desire me. It's enough to know that
thousands of men could have me if I'd let them. That makes me real.' Nonsense!
You can't escape that way. Sex isn't make-believe. Life isn't make-believe.
Virginity isn't an apotheosis."
postured before him. Finally he burst out: "Didn't any of you hear what I
told her?"
back on the next rocket."
@kins let out a warning blast. "SALLY. COMPANY."
excitedly. "You heard that, didn't you?"
yell to my wife." And then he began a frightful racket. "YOU CAN ALL HEAR ME.
DON'T SAY YOU CAN'T. DON'T YOU WANT TO BE HELPED? ANSWER ME. GO AHEAD. ANSWER
ME!"
The ceiling was open to the sky. It never rained on Venus. A plastic dome was
enough to provide shade from the sky that blazed through the seven hundred
hour-long Venus day. And when the seven hundred hour night began its deadly
chill, the @kinses simply packed up and returned to their heated city-unit in
Venusburg. Everyone on Venus lived in thirty-day cycles.
"Ten credits down the drain, black market," he shot at Powell. "You know
that? We've got a water black market on Venus. And what the devil are the
police doing about it? Never mind, Linc. I know it's out of your jurisdiction.
What's with D'Courtney?"
death of her father was susceptible of two interpretations. Either Reich had
killed D'Courtney, or merely been a witness to D'Courtney's suicide. Old Man
Mose would insist on that being cleared up.
under emotional exhaustion and on the verge of self-destruction. That's why I
rushed over to Terra to cut him off."
eh?"
way he certainly did not commit suicide."
narcotics. You know suicides, Linc. Once they've fixed on a particular form of
death, they never change it. D'Courtney must have been murdered."
by poison?"
happy about all this, Powell. Reich turned my case into a failure. I could
have saved D'Courtney. I---"
desertion... shame... loathing... cowardice. We were going to work on that.
That's all I know."
Mose is going to fuss about. When we present him the case."
if I can..."
association with festivity... • party... conversation at---my party. Last
month. Gus Tate, an expert himself, but needing help on a similar patient of
his own, he said. If Tate needed help, you reasoned, Reich certainly would
need help." Powell was so upset he spoke aloud. "Well how about that peeper!"
came with Reich, but I kept hoping---"
Gus laid it out for him. He pumped you and turned his information over to a
killer. Good old Gus. What price the Esper Pledge now?"
"Linc. Phone."
the D'Courtney girl."
Beck's face on the screen. His lieutenant saw him at the same moment and waved
excitedly. He began talking before Powell was within earshot.
hours."
property by courtesy of Ben Reich. I came back with him. He's on earth for
twenty-six hours to settle his affairs, and then he rockets back to Callisto
to live on his brand new estate forever. If you want anything from him, you'd
better come quick."
money-measles. Also he's grateful to Reich who (I am now quoting) generously
stepped out of the legal picture in favor of Dr. Jordan and justice. If you
want anything, you'd better come back to Terra and get it yourself."
to laboratory research. It was a circular floor, almost a thousand feet in
diameter, domed with a double layer of controlled quartz that could give
graded illumination from full to total darkness including monochrome light to
within one tenth of an angstrom. Now, at noon, the sunlight was modulated
slightly so that it flooded the tables and benches, the crystal and silver
apparatus, the cover-alled workers with a gentle peach radiance.
desperately."
on a murder case. What's murder to a scientist? We're not interested."
to realize that."
broadcast: "Stand by, peepers! We're pulling a fast one."
raspberries. And amid a hail of derisory images came the raucous cry of a
backbiter: "Who stole the weather, Powell?" This apparently referred to an
obscure episode in Dishonest Abe's lurid career which no one had ever
succeeded in peeping, but which never failed to make Powell blush. It did not
fail now. A silent cackle filled the room.
coax out of this man."
physiology and he's got information I want him to volunteer. Lets make him
feel paternal. Please fake obscure visual problems and beg for help. Make him
talk."
working on a problem of a transistor which would record the TP impulse,
hastily invented the fact that TP optical transmission was astigmatic and
humbly requested enlightenment. A pair of pretty girls, engrossed in the
infuriating dead-end of long range telepathic communication, demanded of Dr.
Jordan why transmission of visual images always showed color aberration, which
it did not. The Japanese team, experts on the extra sensory Node, center of TP
perceptivity, insisted that the Node was in curcuit with the Optic Nerve (it
wasn't within two millimeters of same) and besieged Dr. Jordan with polite
hissings and specious proofs.
is finished and you've got important business to---"
doctor, if you would try a transaction of the optic---" &c.
Jordan. You jet at five. I really think---"
always another. The fact is, my dear sir, your admirable work contains one
significant flaw. You have never checked the living Node with a vital dye.
Ehrlich Röt, perhaps, or Gentian Violet. I would suggest..." &c.
of reason.
the idea of being rich on Callisto. No scientists there. No meetings of the
minds. Nothing on the level of this extraordinary seminar.
Seemed that Craye D'Courtney originally owned it. The old Reich (Ben's father)
must have swindled it one way or another, and placed it in his wife's name.
When she died, it went to her son. That thief Ben Reich must have had
conscience qualms for he threw it into open court, and by some legal
hokey-pokey Wilson Jordan came up with it.
I saw when I worked for him! But all financiers are crooks. Don't you agree?"
noble note. "I rather admire him."
conscience. That's admirable indeed. I wouldn't want him to think that I---"
a grin. "As fellow scientists we can deplore; but as men of the world we can
only praise."
would gladly volunteer his most secret work on Visual Purple to these fine
youngsters to aid them in their own research. He was handing on the torch to
the next generation. His eyes moistened and his throat choked with sentiment
as he spent twenty minutes carefully describing the Rhodopsin Ionizer he had
developed for Monarch.
Callisto Rocket. They filled his stateroom with gifts and flowers; they filled
his ears with grateful testimonials, and he accelerated toward Jupiter's IVth
Satellite with the pleasant knowledge that he had materially benefited science
and never betrayed that fine and generous patron, Mr. Benjamin Reich.
had just been fed and her face was eggy.
Haja." She returned to the kitchen.
Powell knelt alongside Barbara. "Say Dada, baby. Dada? Dada? Say Dada."
here. We fight it out together.
you're buried way down here in this solitary existence?
merely existing. Then you were born. You had a mother and a father. You grew
up into a lovely girl with blonde hair and dark eyes and a sweet graceful
figure. You traveled from Mars to earth with your father and you were---
There's something I have to see.
spook..."
your father in the other room... the orchid room... and suddenly we heard
something... Powell took a deep breath and cried: "Help, Barbara. Help---"
Cool floor under running feet and the endless corridor until at last they
burst through the door into the orchid room and screamed and dodged the
startled grasp of Ben Reich while he raised something to father's mouth.
Raised what? Hold that image. Photograph it. Christ! That horrible muffled
explosion. The back of the head burst out and the loved, the adored, the
worshipped figure crumpling unbelievably, tearing at their hearts while they
moaned and crawled across the floor to snatch a malignant steel flower from
the waxen---
crackling with indignation.
Clear picture. Take a look..."
at the phone...
twisted face appeared on the screen.
bought the gun from you. I'd like to bring the picture of the gun over and
check it with you." Powell hesitated and then stressed the next words gently:
"It'd be a big help, Jerry, and I'll be extremely appreciative. Extremely.
Wait for me. I'll be up in half an hour."
give little Gus time to hustle over to Church's place."
sketched in at @kins' house. "Oh. I see. It's a trap for both Tate and
Church. Church sold the gun to Reich."
door to a museum."
down the line. From here on in it's got to be peeper tricks or I'm through."
in?"
for his life, and Reich's out somewhere trying to cut him off and gag him."
D'Courtney, blushed again and left the house in confusion.
11
out its sphere of soft light. As the three men spoke, they leaned in and out
of the illumination, their faces and gesticulating hands suddenly appearing
and disappearing in staccato eclipses.
sticking to straight talk. You two peepers may consider it an insult to have
words addressed to you. I consider it evidence of good faith. While I'm
talking. I'm not peeping."
"You've been known to finesse, Powell."
working on a murder. Peeping isn't going to do me any good."
gun was used. That's my objective evidence. Eat it."
You sold it to Ben Reich."
Let it wait a minute. I want to finish with Jerry." He turned toward Church.
"You had the gun, Jerry. It's the kind of thing you would have. Reich came
here for it. It's the only place he could come. You did business together
before. I haven't forgotten the Chaos Swindle..."
everything for Reich... just because he asked you to peep and squeal on four
members of the Stock Exchange. He made a million out of that swindle... just
by asking a dumb peeper for a favor."
I'm mealy-mouthed Preacher Powell, didn't I? Would I make a shady offer?"
no promises."
delivery. You'll have to make up your mind. Trust me or trust Ben Reich. What
about the gun?"
darkness. "I sold no gun, peeper, and I don't know how any gun was used.
That's my objective evidence for the court."
want to ask you one question, Gus. Skipping over the fact that you're Ben
Reich's accessory... that you pumped Sam @kins about D'Courtney and got the
orbits set for him... Skipping over the fact that you went to the Beaumont
party with Reich, ran interference for him and've been running interference
ever since---"
bribe correctly. He couldn't bribe you with money. You make too much. He
couldn't bribe you with position. You're one of the top peepers in the Guild.
He must have bribed you with power, eh? Is that it?"
mind, the casual acceptance of Tate's ruin as an accomplished fact jolted the
little peeper with a series of shocks too sudden for adjustment. And he was
communicating his panic to Church. All this Powell had planned in preparation
for one crucial moment that was to come later.
"But it isn't likely. He wouldn't give up any of his own, and you wouldn't
want any of his kind. So be must have offered you power in the Esper world.
How could he do that? Well, he finances the League of Esper Patriots. My guess
is he offered you power through the League... A coup d'état, maybe? A
dictatorship in the Guild? Probably you're a member of the League."
make my guess good. Did you imagine we'd let you and Reich smash the Guild as
easily as that?"
like a court of law, where you swear and then I swear and then a jury tries to
figure who's lying. No, little Gus. You stand up there before the board and
all the 1sts start probing. You're a 1st, Gus. Maybe you could block two...
Possibly three... But not all. I tell you, you're dead."
"The Guild takes confession into account. Confession before the fact. I'll
give you everything right now. Everything. It was an aberration. I'm sane now.
Tell the Guild. When you get mixed up with a damned psychotic like Reich, you
fall into his pattern. You identify yourself with it. But I'm out of it. Tell
the Guild. Here's the whole picture... He came to me with a nightmare about a
Man With No Face. He---'
the Guild I'm cooperating. I've recanted. I'm volunteering everything. Church
is your witness...
promised---"
trust Reich. Not me, thank you. I'm not that crazy."
you'll---"
Reich. I'll bust him first. I'll walk into court and sit on the witness stand
and do everything I can to help Powell. Tell that to the Guild, Linc. Tell
them that---"
peeper squeal on a patient?"
rest of us by walking into court and blabbing."
Any peeper can be a right pilot when the orbit's easy; but it takes guts to
hold to the Pledge when the heat's on. You ought to know. You didn't have the
guts. Look at you now..."
ethics? Is that---?"
get you when we get Reich. But I can't get him through you. I'll play this
according to the Pledge." He turned and left the circle of light. As he walked
through the darkness toward the front door, he waited for Church to take the
bait. He had played the entire scene for this moment alone... but so far
there was no action on his hook.
light, Church suddenly called: "Just a minute."
for Church to discover was carefully jumbled and camouflaged with tangentional
associations and a kaleidoscopic pattern, but Church certainly could not
locate a suspicious block.
but I think maybe I'd be smarter to trust you."
trouble with me is that I've always been looking for promises instead of---"
whirled and slammed the door. "Get off the floor. Quick." He took three
steps back toward the globe of light and vaulted onto the counter. "Up here
with me. Jerry, Gus. Quick, you fools!"
Powell kicked the light globe and extinguished it.
Church gasped and leaped up into the darkness. Powell gripped Tate's shaking
arm. "Too short, Gus? Hold out your hands. I'll toss you." He flung Tate
upward and followed himself, clawing for the steel spider arms of the bracket.
The three hung in space, cushioned against the murderous vibrations enveloping
the store... vibrations that created shattering harmonics in every substance
in contact with the floor. Glass, steel, stone, plastic... all screeched and
burst apart. They could hear the floor cracking, and the ceiling thundered.
Tate groaned.
me before."
probed for Tate's lower levels: "Hang on. Hang on. Hang on. HOLD. HOLD.
HOLD!"
Powell realized that no Guild conditioning could ever have prevented Tate from
destroying himself. The death compulsion struck. Tate's hands relaxed and he
dropped to the floor. The vibrations ceased an instant later, but in that
second Powell heard the thick, gravid choke of bursting flesh. Church heard it
too and started to scream.
the floor. It found a broad red and gray organic puddle of flesh, blood, and
bones, hovered for three seconds, then blinked out. The door closed.
now."
swung him toward the counter. Church dropped and shuddered. Powell followed
him and fought hard against nausea.
to Kingston, Quizzard gets another batch. They follow the dope trail to his
place."
goddam son of a bitch!"
him to be too careful."
ready, Powell. I'm opening up. I'm going to give you everything."
nightmare, Powell was grateful for the sight of the blonde urchin in his home.
Barbara D'Courtney had a black crayon in her right hand and a red crayon in
her left. She was energetically scribbling on the walls, her tongue between
her teeth and her dark eyes squinted in concentration.
with Dada."
pocket, her bottom on the couch alongside Powell, and her grubby paws in his
hands.
wonder if your teeth need braces?"
woman seated alongside him. He looked into the deep dark eyes shining with the
empty brilliance of a crystal glass awaiting its fulfilling measure of wine.
turbulent preconscious, heavily hung with obscuring clouds like a vast dark
nebula in the heavens. Behind the clouds was the faint flicker of light,
isolated and childlike, that he had grown to like. But now, as he threaded his
way down, that flicker of light was the faint spicule of a star that burned
with the hot roar of a nova.
level. Almost had my brains burned out."
girlish passions?"
before him and the cool relaxed hands in his. "Let's go."
within the girl... that is within every man... the timeless reservoir of
psychic energy, reasonless, remorseless, seething with the never-ending search
for satisfaction. He could sense Mary Noyes mentally tiptoeing behind him. He
stopped at a safe distance.
desire.
you're gone."
sensations about her."
was like an electrician gingerly touching the ends of exposed wires to
discover which of them did not carry a knock-out charge. A blazing bolt surged
near him. He touched it, was stunned, and stepped aside to feel a blanket of
instinctual self-preservation choke him. He relaxed, permitted himself to be
drawn down into a vortex of associations and began sorting. He struggled to
maintain his frame of reference that was crumbling in that chaos of energy.
incredible billion, organic cries, the muted drone of muscletone, sensory
sub-currents, blood-flow, the wavering superheterodyne of blood pH... all
whirling and churning in the balancing pattern that formed the girl's psyche.
The never-ending make-and-break of synapses contributed a crackling hail of
complex rhythms. Packed in the changing interstices were broken images,
half-symbols, partial references... The ionized nuclei of thought.
sensory association of a loss, then by cross circuit to the infant's sucking
reflex at the breast... to an infantile memory of... her mother? No. A
wet-nurse. That was encrusted with parental associations... Negation. Minus
Mother... Powell dodged an associated flame of infantile rage and resentment,
the Orphan's Syndrome. He picked up P again, searched for a related Pa...
Papa... Father.
scrambled back to sanity.
face to face with his image again. This time it was nude, powerful; its
outlines haloed with an aura of love and desire. Its arms outstretched.
strings, the dark eyes like blotches, the lovely figure drawn into flat,
ungracious planes... It faded, and abruptly the image of
Powell-Powerful-Protective-Paternal rushed at him, torrentially destructive.
He stayed with it, grappling. The back of the head was D'Courtney's face. He
followed the Janus image down to a blazing channel of doubles, pairs, linkages
and duplicities to---Reich? Imposs--- Yes, Ben Reich and the caricature of
Barbara, linked side to side like Siamese twins, brother and sister from the
waist upward, their legs turning and twisting separately in a sea of
complexity below. B linked to B. B & B. Barbara & Ben. Half joined in blood.
Half---