Alfred Bester. The Demolished Man
страница №8
...city.past them, he caught the astonished glances at his cut and bleeding face. Then
he was aware of a dozen uniformed Monarch guards closing in on him. He ran
down the hall and with a frantic burst of speed and dodged the guards. He
slipped into the revolving doors and whirled through to the footway. There he
jerked to a stop as though he had ran into white hot iron. There was no sun.
down; the shops were blazing... And overhead there was nothing... nothing but
a deep, black, fathomless infinity.
hurried on. No one looked up.
plucked at their arms, shaking his fist at the sky. Then the first of the
guards came through the revolving door and he took to his heels.
arcade of brilliant, busy shops. Beyond the arcade was the entrance of a
Vertical Pneumatique to the skyway. Reich leaped in. As the door closed behind
him, he caught sight of the pursuing guards less than twenty yards off. Then
he was lofted seventy stories and emerged on the skyway.
Tower, with a runway leading into the skyway. Reich ran in, flung credits to
the attendant and got into a car. He pressed GO. The car went. At the foot of
the runway he pressed LEFT. The car turned left and continued. That was all
the control he had. Left, right; stop, go. The rest was automatic. Moreover,
cars were strictly limited to the skyways. He might spend hours racing in
circles high over the city, trapped like a dog in a revolving cage.
at the sky. There was no sun... and they went about their business as though
there had never been a sun. He shuddered. Was this more of the one-eye kick?
Suddenly the car slowed and stopped; and he was marooned in the middle of the
skyway, halfway between Monarch Tower and the giant Visiphone & Visigraph
Building.
raised the tail hood to inspect the pick-up. Then he saw the guards far down
the skyway, running toward him, and he understood. These cars were powered by
broadcast energy. They'd cut the transmission off at the car-park and were
coming after him. Reich turned tail and sprinted toward the V & V Building.
restaurants, a theater---and there was a travel office! A sure out. He could
grab a ticket, get into a one-man capsule and have himself slotted to any of
the take-off fields. He needed a little time to reorganize... reorient... and
he had a house in Paris. He leaped across the center island, dodged past cars
and ran into the office.
by burglar-proof plastic. Reich went to the window, pulling money from his
pocket. He slapped credits down on the counter and shoved them under the
grille.
man! Jet!"
The Man With No Face. He spun around twice, heart pounding, skull pounding,
located the door and ran out. He ran blindly onto the skyway, shied feebly
from an oncoming car, and was struck down into enveloping darkness---
tiled room, an emergency police station. He was lying on a white table. Around
him were grouped the guards, three uniformed police, unidentified strangers.
All were writing carefully in report books, murmuring, shifting confusedly.
all right," he said gently.
I'm right. My God! I've got to know I'm right. I don't care about the price.
I---"
d'you mean by that? Just tell us. What's a peeper?"
that. They simulate sang froid after accidents. We call it Gallows Humor..."
know me. I want to confess. I want to confess to Lincoln Powell, the police
prefect. Take me to Powell."
Beaumont's house... Tell Powell. I killed D'Courtney."
corner and picked up an old-fashioned hand phone: "Captain? Got a character
here. Calls himself Ben Reich of Monarch. Wants to confess to some prefect
named Powell. Claims he killed a party named Craye D'Courtney last month."
After a pause, the policeman called to Reich: "How do you spell that?"
and hung up. "A nut," be said and stowed his notebook in a pocket.
the station. "All right, buddy. Out!"
There ain't no D'Courtney killing in the books. And we ain't takin' no slok
from your kind. Now... Out!" And he hurled Reich into the street.
balance and stood still, numb, lost. It was darker... eternally darker. A few
street lights were lit. The skyways were extinguished. The Jumpers had
disappeared. There were great gaps shorn in the skyline.
city? Where is everything? Jumper!"
there anybody who can hear me? I'm sick. I need help... Help!... Help!" There
was nothing.
voice: "Eight, sir... Five, sir... One, sir... Tenser said Tensor...
Tension... 'prehension... 'ssention have begun..."
this crazy Sardine game!" He stumbled.
site of D'Courtney's death... and Maria Beaumont, shrill, decadent,
reassuring.
There's nothing but space..."
ominous, gigantic... A figure of black shadows, looking, looming, silent...
The Man With No Face. Reich watched it, paralyzed, transfixed.
hammering pulse that was his heart. He was running down a yawning alien path,
devoid of life, devoid of space, running before it was too late, too late, too
late... running while there was still time, time, time---
figure that said: "There is no time. There is nothing."
emptiness shrieking: "Powell! Duffy! Quizzard! Tate! Oh Christ! Where is
everybody? Where is everything? For the love of God..."
God. There is nothing."
Reich and the Man With No Face. And fixed, frozen, helpless in that matrix,
Reich at last raised his eyes and stared deep into the face of his deadly
enemy... the man he could not escape... the terror of his nightmares... the
destroyer of his existence...
D'Courtney-Reich. D'R.
space nor matter. There was nothing left but dying thought.
driven me from you."
destroy us. That was for survival. It was to help you lose the world and win
the game, Ben."
to solve. The galaxies, the stars, the sun, the planets... the world as we
knew it. We were the only reality. All the rest was make-believe... dolls,
puppets, stage-settings... pretended passions. It was a make-believe reality
for us to solve."
it's not theft, terror, hatred, lust, murder, rapine. You failed, and it's all
been abolished, disbanded..."
failed the test."
fertile soil? Does it matter who or what we are? We have failed. Our test is
ended. We are ended."
ended. Reality has turned into might-have-been, and you have awakened at
last... to nothing."
17
overlooking the old Haarlem Canal. Each had wandered all the night, through
footway and skyway, unconscious of his surroundings, yet both were drawn
inevitably together like two magnetized needles floating on a weed choked
pond.
lifeless, his respiration almost gone, his pulse faded. He was clutching Reich
with an iron grip. Reich was curled into a tight foetal ball.
alternately sweated over him and congratulated themselves on the first
successful Mass Cathexis Measure in the history of the Esper Guild. There was
no hurry for Reich. In due course and with proper procedure, his inert body
was transported to Kingston Hospital for Demolition. There the matter rested
for seven days.
nurses in single combat, and left the house. He made one stop at Sucre et Cie,
emerged with a large mysterious parcel and then proceeded to headquarters to
make his personal report to Commissioner Crabbe. On the way up, he poked his
head into Beck's office.
now."
imperious: "Come!" and entered. Crabbe was properly solicitous, but stiff.
The D'Courtney Case had not improved his relations with Powell. The denouement
had come as an additional blow.
could understand it, and none of us are to blame. You see, Commissioner, even
Reich himself was not consciously aware of why he had murdered D'Courtney. The
only one who grasped the case was the Prosecution Computer, and we thought it
was acting kittenish."
told us that the `passion motive' was insufficiently documented. We'd all been
assuming profit motive. So had Reich. Naturally we assumed the Computer was
having kinks, and we insisted on computation based on the profit motive. We
were wrong..."
for financial reasons. That was his psychological camouflage for the real
passion motive. And it couldn't hold up. He offered merger to D'Courtney.
D'Courtney accepted. But Reich was subconsciously compelled to misunderstand
the message. He had to. He had to go on believing he murdered for money."
Reich couldn't see it. That estate on Callisto, for instance. The one that
Reich used to decoy Dr. Jordan off the planet. Reich inherited it from his
mother who'd received it from D'Courtney. We all assumed Reich's father had
chiseled it out of D'Courtney and placed it in his wife's name. We were wrong.
D'Courtney had given it to Reich's mother because they were lovers. It was his
love-gift to the mother of his child. Reich was born there. Jackson Beck
uncovered all that, once we had the lead."
by intense guilt sensations of abandonment. He had abandoned his son. It was
tearing him apart. Then, Barbara D'Courtney's deep half-twin image of herself
and Ben Reich; somehow she knew they were half-brother and sister. And Reich's
inability to kill Barbara at Chooka Frood's. He knew it too, deep down in the
unconscious. He wanted to destroy the hateful father who had rejected him, but
he could not bring himself to harm his sister."
booby-traps."
super-ego... his conscience, could not permit him to go unpunished for such a
horrible crime. Since the police apparently were unable to punish him, his
conscience took over. That was the meaning of Reich's nightmare image... The
Man With No Face."
D'Courtney. The figure had no face because Reich could not accept the truth...
that he had recognized D'Courtney as his father. The figure appeared in his
dreams when he made the decision to kill his father. It never left him. It was
first the threat of punishment for what he contemplated. Then it became the
punishment itself for the murder."
himself that he murdered because he hated D'Courtney as the father who had
rejected and abandoned him. Therefore, the punishment had to take place on the
unconscious level. Reich set those traps for himself without ever realizing
it... in his sleep, somnambulistically... during the day, in short fugues...
brief departures from conscious reality. The tricks of the mind-mechanism are
fantastic."
hostile and you have to have complete cooperation from a subject to get that
kind of material. It takes months anyway. Also, if Reich recovered from the
series of shocks he'd had, he would be able to readjust, reorient, and become
immune to us. That was dangerous, too, because he was in a position of power
to rock the solar system. He was one of those rare World-Shakers whose
compulsions might have torn down our society and irrevocably committed us to
his own psychotic pattern."
the past and the future. If they are permitted to mature... If the link is
permitted to weld... The world finds itself chained to a dreadful tomorrow."
do my best. Every human being has a psyche composed of latent and capitalized
energy. Latent energy is our reserve... the untapped natural resources of our
mind. Capitalized energy is that latent energy which we call up and put to
work. Most of us use only a small portion of our latent energy."
psyche, so to speak, and contributes his latent energy to a pool. One Esper
alone taps this pool and becomes the canal for the latent energy. He
captilizes it and puts it to work. He can accomplish tremendous things... if
he can control it. It's a difficult and dangerous operation. About on a par
with jetting to the moon with a stick of dynamite stuck---er---riding on
dynamite sticks..."
the real image in your mind."
established between them for the first time.
Face. We had to make him see the truth before we could get the truth. Using
the pool of latent energy, I built a common neurotic concept for Reich... the
illusion that he alone in the world was real."
tough, you tend to take refuge in the idea that it's all make-believe... a
giant hoax. Reich had the seeds of that weakness in him already. I simply
forced them and let Reich defeat himself. Life was getting tough for him. I
persuaded him to believe that the universe was a hoax... a puzzle-box. Then I
tore it down, layer by layer. I made him believe that the test was ended. The
puzzle was being dismantled. And I left Reich alone with The Man With No Face.
He looked into the face and saw himself and his father... and we had
everything."
the door with a friendly hand on his shoulder.
It must be a wonderful thing to be an Esper."
to live your life in a hospital, Commissioner?"
without refuge. Be grateful you're not a peeper, sir. Be grateful that you
only see the outward man. Be grateful that you never see the passions, the
hatreds, the jealousies, the malice, the sicknesses... Be grateful you rarely
see the frightening truth in people. The world will be a wonderful place when
everyone's a peeper and everyone's adjusted... But until then, be greatful
you're blind."
Hospital. He satin the cabin with the parcel on his knees, gazing down at the
magnificent Hudson Valley, whistling a crooked tune. Once he grinned and
muttered: "Wow! That was some line I handed Crabbe. But I had to cement our
relations. Now he'll feel sorry for peepers... and friendly."
landscaping. Solariums, pools, lawns, athletic fields, dormitories, clinics...
all in exquisite neo-classic design. As the Jumper descended, Powell could
make out the figures of patients and attendants... all bronzed, active,
laughing, playmg. He thought of the vigilant measures the Board of Governors
was forced to take to prevent Kingston Hospital from becoming another
Spaceland. Too many fashionable malingerers were already attempting to obtain
admission.
and started across the grounds. He was weak, but he wanted to leap hedges,
vault gates, run races. He had awakened after seven days' exhaustion with a
question---one question to ask Barbara. He felt exhilarated.
flanked by field-stone terraces and brilliant gardens. She flew toward him,
waving, and he ran toward her. Then as they approached, both were stricken
with shyness. They stopped a few feet apart, not daring to look at each other.
his eye. She was alive again... alive as he had never seen her before. And her
urchin expression---the expression that he had imagined was a phase of her
Déjà Èprouvé development was still there. She
looked inexpressively mischievous, high-spirited, fascinating. But she was
adult. He did not know her.
bench. She looked at him with grave eyes. "I want to tell you how grateful I
am."
tomorrow at five?"
comb your hair. And brush your teeth."
me in the eye with a chop."
to end the interview. If you feel impelled to cast chronographical
aspersions..." She stopped and looked at him. The urchin appeared again in her
face. "Chronographical?" she inquired.
you really like? What are we both like? Will we have time to find out?"
for anything. Even if you can't marry me..."
anything," he said. "Sit down. I want to ask you one question."
woke up and rushed into the Orchid room. You remember the rest."
Who did?"
utter a word."
father cried out on the telepathic level. If I hadn't been such an ass and so
intent on Reich, I'd have realized it long before. You were unconsciously
peeping Mary and me all the while you were in my house."
excuses to---"
anything short of us."
separated by a violent crash that sounded from the top of the terrace above
their heads. They looked up in astonishment.
It toppled over the edge and crashed down through the flower beds until it
landed on the lawn, crying and jerking as though a steady stream of voltage
was pouring through its nervous system. It was Ben Reich, almost
unrecognizable, part way through Demolition.
hand and said: "Are you still my girl?"
you. Will you run back to your pavilion and wait for me? Like a good girl? All
right... Scamper now! Jet!"
looking back. Powell watched her go, then turned and inspected Reich.
The series of osmotic injections begins with the topmost strata of cortical
synapses and slowly works down, switching off every circuit, extinguishing
every memory, destroying every particle of the pattern that has been built up
since birth. And as the pattern is erased, each particle discharges its
portion of energy, turning the entire body into a shuddering maelstrom of
dissociation.
in the fact that the consciousness is never lost; that as the psyche is wiped
out, the mind is aware of its slow, backward death until at last it too
disappears and awaits the rebirth. The mind bids an eternity of farewells; it
mourns at an endless funeral. And in those blinking, twitching eyes of Ben
Reich, Powell saw the awareness... the pain... the tragic despair.
Jeems poked his head over the terrace. "Oh. Hi, Powell. That's a friend of
yours. Remember him?"
keep an eye on him." He turned to Powell. "He's a lusty lad. We've got great
hopes for him."
Ought to be ready for rebirth in a year."
lose him."
catch people like Reich just to kill them. Capital punishment, they called
it."
society, he's obviously above average. You want to hold on to him. You
straighten him out and turn him into a plus value. Why throw him away? Do that
enough and all you've got left are the sheep."
and screamed. They handled him with the deft and gentle Kingston judo while
they checked him carefully for breaks and sprains. Then, reassured, they
started to lead him away.
mysterious parcel and unwrapped it. It was one of Sucre et Cie's most
magnificent candy boxes. He carried it to the demolished man and held it out.
"It's a present for you, Ben. Take it."
hands came out and took the gift.
nursemaids to this crazy world. Is it worth it?"
"Powell-peeper-Powell-friend-Powell-friend..."
overcome with warmth and tears. He tried to smile, then turned away and
wandered across the lawn toward the pavilion and Barbara.
it is. You must learn how it is. You must tear the barriers down. You must
tear the veils away. We see the truth you cannot see... That there is nothing
in man but love and faith, courage and kindness, generosity and sacrifice. All
else is only the barrier of your blindness. One day we'll all be mind to mind
and heart to heart..."
has appeared exceptional to the minute mind of man has been inevitable to the
infinite Eye of God. This strange second in a life, that unusual event, those
remarkable coincidences of environment, opportunity, and encounter... all of
them have been reproduced over and over on the planet of a sun whose galaxy
revolves once in two hundred million years and has revolved nine times
already. There has been joy. There will be joy again.
