“That’s exactly right.”
“But how?”
“Look, Decker, we’ve told you almost everything. Leave us one trade secret.”
“That’s fair enough. It seemed to me that I saw a Duster with you. Could that be correct?”
“Duster?”
“A Duster. A fuzzy ball of glitter.”
“One came along with us,” said Jill. “He seems to have disappeared.”
“Could he have had something to do with it?”
“Decker, I said one secret, didn’t I?” asked Tennyson.
“Yes, you did. I’m sorry.”
“How about the equation folk?” asked Jill. “Do you know where they are?”
“They’re clustered in Smoky’s parking lot,” said Decker. “All bunched up together and the equations and diagrams flickering so fast you can barely see them. But, now, I’ll have to say good night. You people want to get some rest. And I have work to do tomorrow.”
“You have a job?”
“Certainly. Almost everyone does. You are allowed to pick what you want to do—that is, if you’re qualified. My specialty is interpreting. Strangely enough, I found that I had an ear for alien tongues. I can manage with quite a lot of them. But basically I’m a sort of curator. I make a valiant effort to classify all the junk from distant worlds that finds its way into this place.”
“You know, of course,” said Jill, “that we don’t intend to stay long?”
“Protocol, if nothing else,” said Decker, “demands that you talk with Smoky and perhaps some of the other Bubblies. They’d take it rather badly if you didn’t. I would guess they have a lively interest in you. I’ll go along with you to act as interpreter.”
Chapter Fifty-five
Plopper kept plopping all about, making his squishy liver sounds. Plop, he went, plop, plop, plop.…
“Can’t he rest awhile?” asked Haystack. “Can’t he stop that hopping all about? Can’t he sit and rest awhile?”
Plop, went Plopper, plop, plop, plop.…
“Leave him alone,” said Smoky. “You’re always after him. You’re always criticizing.”
“He drives me nuts,” said Haystack.
“Decker doesn’t mind him,” said the Bubbly. “He never complains about him.”
“Decker’s not with him all the time,” said Haystack. “Decker’s not as close to you as I am. I’m your constant companion. At your eternal beck and call. Decker runs around a lot. If Decker had to live with Plopper, the way I do.…”
Plop, went Plopper.
“He never quits it, day or night,” said Haystack. “He’s hopping all the time. We are supposed to be a triad, aren’t we? Where does he fit in? All the rest are three; how come we are four?”
“We are a triad,” said Smoky. “Don’t try to get cute with me. Don’t say things that aren’t true, thinking you can catch me in a lie. You know Plopper is not one of us. He is nothing but a pet. Perhaps if you weren’t grumbling all the time and Decker spent more of his time with us, I wouldn’t need a pet. But I have found a pet and have grown fond of him and—”
Haystack grumbled without saying anything.
“What was that? Speak up.”
“I said you were more than fond of him. You put up with him, which is more than I am able to do, and Decker too. Decker runs around so much because he can’t stand all the plopping. Plop, plop, plop all the blessed time. Not a moment’s peace.”
“He’ll bring us good luck,” said Smoky. “He is more than a simple pet. He is a talisman, a good-luck charm.…”
“You have no need of a good-luck charm,” said Haystack. “I tell you and I tell you and you keep on pushing. You don’t let up a minute. Everyone is sore at you; you haven’t got a friend in all of Center. You’re pushing too hard, and when I try to tell you, you pay no attention to me. Once you have control of Center, what will you do with it?”
“It’s not only Center, Haystack. It’s much more than that. You and Decker stick with me and—”
“There you go again,” said Haystack. “I don’t know why I put up with you. You’re heading straight for trouble. You and your impossible dreams. If Decker didn’t go along with you.…”
“Decker has vision,” said Smoky. “He sees eye to eye with me. While you—”
“Decker may have vision, but I have common sense. I know what’s possible; Decker doesn’t.”
Plop, plop, plop went Plopper.
“No one has ever dared to reach out for Center,” Haystack said. “You’re sneaky about it, of course. You move in devious ways. You think you’re being smart. But the others know. They are waiting until you make a tiny slip, then they’ll be down on you. They’ll crush you without mercy, without a second thought.”
“When three beings form a triad,” said Smoky, “which is the logical condition of our way of life and which from observation has proved to be the best mode of existence, they are loyal to one another. They do not bicker among themselves. They do not—”
“I am being loyal to you,” said Haystack, “the best way that I know. I am trying my level best to keep us out of trouble. Why don’t you listen to me?”
“I do listen to you, Haystack. I listen endlessly.”
“You listen but you pay no attention. You are maddened by your dream of glory. You’ve reached a point where you recognize no reason. Even now you are plotting how you’ll use these new arrivals to the best advantage. Don’t tell me that you aren’t.”
“It takes so long to reconstruct them,” complained Smoky. “It would seem there should be a faster method.”
“The procedure is long,” said Haystack, “because there are so many factors that must be considered and worked with. There can be no mistakes, and in almost all of them that one might want to use, there are revisions to be made.”
“I had given thought to making use of the originals,” said Smoky, “and not waiting for the recreations. But that could be dangerous. The others, the cubes, I know not of, but the humans are hair-triggered creatures. It is strange that after all this time, with Decker being the only one we have, two more humans should show up. And yet I am tempted.…”
“You are counting on the fact that they’d be identical to Decker? You can’t do that. You’d be taking a long chance. Individuals within the species may vary and, besides, with Decker there were revisions made.”
“You advise caution?”
“Yes, indeed I do.”
“You always advise caution. I’m sick to death of your endless caution.”
“Even if you had two more humans,” said Haystack, “you could not be certain they would complement Decker. They might be of differing temperament and intelligence. Decker happened to turn out to be the sort of creature you could work with; these other two might not.”
“Well, we’ll wait and see,” said Smoky.
Plop, plop, plop, went Plopper.
Chapter Fifty-six
“I don’t know,” said Jill. “This Decker person.…”
Tennyson put a finger to his lips, cautioning her. She looked about the room. There was nothing there. Decker had left and they were alone.
“I wonder where Whisperer went,” said Tennyson. “It’s unlike him to desert us.”
“Maybe he found old friends,” said Jill. “Decker said there are Dusters here. He may be hobnobbing with them.”
“I wish he would come back,” said Tennyson. “We should talk with him.”
“So you feel it, too.”
“Yes, Jill, I feel it, too.”
They sat together on the sofa, looking about the room. It had familiar furniture. The carpeting was all right. The paintings on the wall had a familiar look to them. The room could have been transported back to Vatican and it would not have seemed out of place; it would have seemed all right. But despite this, there was a haunting, a frightening sense of alienness.
Tennyson reached out a hand and Jill took it. They sat side by side, holding hands, like two apprehensiv
e children, alert and unsure of themselves, stiff and stark against the menace of a haunted house.
Jill began to speak, but Tennyson tightened his hand on hers and she gulped and said nothing.
Then: “Jason, Whisperer is here. He’s come back to us.”
—Whisperer? asked Tennyson.
—I am here, said Whisperer. I’m sorry that I left you. But I found Dusters. There are Dusters here.
—Whisperer, come to us, said Jill. We should talk among ourselves.
Whisperer came to them. They sensed him in their minds.
—We think there is something wrong, said Jill. Decker isn’t right.
—I wasn’t sure that you noticed it, said Tennyson. But, then, I was the one who knew Decker back at Vatican. He is not my Decker. How about you, Whisperer?
—He is not the Decker that I knew, said Whisperer. A Decker, but a different Decker.
—He lied to us, said Jill. He said he had not known of Mary until we told him. And that makes no sense. This place, this Center, is sensitive on the matter of security. Mary tried twice to sneak in on them, not knowing she was sneaking in, of course. Just doing her job. They might have missed her the first time, but they must have known about her the second time, for they employed their psychological defense system to drive her away. Not knowing what she was, for no one would be afraid of Mary.
—They probably picked up some data on her, said Tennyson. Maybe not too much. Not satisfactory data, for they were dealing with whatever a Listener is when it goes out to another place. But you are right, Jill. They knew about her and I’m sure they got something. Whatever they got, they must be very puzzled with it and, from my judgment or Decker’s position here, he certainly must have known about it.
—Did we tell Decker too much, Jason? Did we tell him more than we should have?
—Maybe. I don’t know. We had to tell him something. Maybe we did tell him too much at first. It was a while before I sensed the wrongness in him. The word “sensed” is right, for it was only that. He held up well otherwise, but there was a wrongness to him. Something that was not the old Decker. Can you remember all we told him?
—I can remember best what we didn’t tell him. We never mentioned the robots. So far as he knows, Vatican is a human institution. We never mentioned the religious angle. We never explained why the name Vatican was used. We did not tell him that Mary thought she had found Heaven. So far as he is concerned, he does not know that Vatican is anything other than a research center like this one.
—Even so, said Whisperer, it shook him up. I think it shook this Center up. It must be a shock to know there is another Center in the galaxy.
—Do you happen to know, asked Tennyson, if we really penetrated this Center without their knowing it—not knowing until we were actually here?
—I am sure we did, said Whisperer.
—Once we got here, though, said Jill, they must have known. They must have all sorts of sensors out, tuned to pick up any kind of life. In any case, the first worm would have reported us.
—That’s what worries me the most, said Tennyson. There is no doubt they took pictures of us—whatever you call the kind of pictures that they take. They must have data on all of us, maybe even Whisperer. By now they may have recreated another Jill and Jason, other equation people, recreated from the data.
—Could they be listening to us now? asked Jill.
—I think not, said Whisperer.
—But there are Dusters here. They know how Dusters operate.
—There are only a few here now, said Whisperer. At times there are none at all. My people are not a part of Center. They drift in and out. They keep a check on Center, checking back on occasion to learn what has been found, if there’s anything here that they can use. And so far as recreating one of us, I doubt that they could do it. We are, after all, little more than a mass of molecules and atoms.
—You mean the Dusters are using this place?
—Well, yes, you might say they are. There has been no cooperation. My people are scattered very far.
—I put too much faith in this Decker to start with, said Tennyson. I was glad to see him. Like meeting an old friend in an unexpected place. I was blinded by my memory of the first Decker. I may have been too open. I may have said too much. It was too late to unsay it when I began to feel that he was a different man. There was a different texture to him. He was too smooth. The old Decker was never smooth. Decker II lied several times—I am sure he did. He lied about never having heard of Mary until we told him. He lied about his own data lying around for a hundred years before he was recreated. I am convinced the Bubblies would have processed his data immediately. They would have wanted to find out what it was that had come tearing down out of space straight toward them.
—You can understand the differences that are in him, said Jill. He has been subjected for at least a century—more than likely two centuries—to the influences of this place. He has come to identify with it. He accepts its viewpoints and absorbed its philosophy, if it has a philosophy and I assume it must. He seems to have it good, has made a place for himself. He is a part—a triad, is it?—with this Bubbly he calls Smoky. He and Haystack. Decker II is not the same man he was. He has changed. He probably had to change to survive. You can’t blame him too much. He did what he had to do. And this is not like the old Decker at all—not like the man you described to me, Jason. Your Decker never conformed, never even tried to conform. He didn’t give a damn. He lived his own life, the way he wanted it, with no notice of what others might be doing.
—You said a triad, said Whisperer. That means three, doesn’t it?
—Yes, it means three.
—There are more than three, said Whisperer. There are four.
—Four?
—There is Plopper.
—Plopper? You mean that thing that was jumping all around?
—That is the one I mean. He is a part of Haystack and Decker and the Bubbly.
—Well, I’ll be damned, said Tennyson. How do you know this?
—I know. I know not how. But the Bubbly and the Plopper are very closely related.
—Let’s try to sum it up, said Tennyson. We are here. We found this place and it is not Heaven. We should be getting back to Vatican with the word it isn’t Heaven. But how can we prove it isn’t Heaven? We can’t just say it isn’t. No one would believe us. And we haven’t much time to hunt around for proof.
—We should be leaving now, said Jill. Whisperer, could you take us home?
—I can take you home.
—How about the equation folk?
—No need to worry about them. They can find their way back. If they want to go.
—You think they may not want to go? Oh, yes, I see what you mean. They were put away in an old folks home and now they’ve broken free of it.…
—So we have only ourselves to think of, said Tennyson. What worries me is how much time we have to try to pick up proof and how much danger we may be in by waiting. Once the Bubblies recreate the new Jill and the new me, they might just put an end to us. They could use the new ones of us to try to weasel their way into Vatican.
—Why do we feel this way? asked Jill. Here we are, assigning the Bubblies an adversary role. Maybe it won’t turn out that way at all. This Center and Vatican are engaged in the same activity. They might want to be co-operative. They might want to join in with Vatican.…
—Which is the last thing Vatican would want.
—I can’t help it, said Jill. I think the same way you do—that the chance is they are adversaries. But we can’t be sure of that.
—For one thing, said Tennyson, Decker showed far too much interest in the Listeners. He asked a lot of questions. In their data-gathering capability, Vatican is light-years ahead of this place. This gang would dearly love to get their hands on the Listeners.
—But they must have known about Vatican long before we came here. Remember the Theodosius memo. A survey party of the Bubblies did visit Vatica
n.
—Yes, I know. I have been wondering about that. Also what Decker said about the data piling up. A Bubbly survey sweep might take centuries, might cover a lot of planets. They’d come back with tons of data. They’d be forced to pick and choose. They’d study only what seemed the most important. Maybe the Vatican data still is in the files untouched. Vatican’s not too spectacular. It might not have made much of an impression. Perhaps the Bubblies never had run across robots before, would not even guess at their capabilities. So far as we know, the human-made robots are the only ones in the galaxy. To the Bubblies, a robot might seem to be nothing but a lump, a chunk of metal, a machine. They stayed only a few minutes, not much more than a fly-over. Remember what that memo written by Theodosius said—that the one he saw clearly looked down upon him with enormous disdain.
—Theodosius couldn’t be sure of that. It was only his impression.
—I’m not certain of that. A robot cardinal can be pretty damn discerning.
—Well, maybe so, said Jill. I hope you’re right.
—Do you now, asked Whisperer, wish to go back home? I am ready to transport you there. I’d not mind going back myself.
—We can’t, said Tennyson. We simply must have proof. Otherwise, all this will have been for nothing. What we must have is some sort of iron-clad proof.
—You endanger yourselves, warned Whisperer. I know of danger in this place.
—I wish we could pin down, said Tennyson, some idea of what this place is all about. Decker called it a study center, and I’m inclined to believe it is. But the motive is the thing. Most research centers—human research centers, that is—are aimed at knowledge for the sake of knowledge alone. In Vatican, the acquisition of knowledge is aimed at the acquisition of a faith, in the belief that faith will come through knowledge. Another motive might be power, using knowledge as a power base. I fear that this may be the motive here. Decker spoke of a move to extend this Center’s research to nearby galaxies. Could this be a reaching out for power—for power rather than knowledge?
—It could be, said Jill, but the exercise of power must presuppose a political organization. Does this place operate politically?