What The Left Hand Was Doing
into the gathering dusk. By the time utter darkness hadcome, and the widely-spaced street lamps of the city had come alive, theelderly Mr. Ying Lee was within half a mile of the most important groupof buildings in China.
The Peiping Explosion, back in the sixties, had almost started World WarThree. An atomic blast had leveled a hundred square miles of the cityand started fires that had taken weeks to extinguish. Soviet Russia hadroared in its great bear voice that the Western Powers had attacked, andwas apparently on the verge of coming to the defense of its Asiancomrade when the Chinese government had said irritatedly that there hadbeen no attack, that traitorous and counterrevolutionary Chinese agentsof Formosa had sabotaged an atomic plant, nothing more, and that thehonorable comrades of Russia would be wise not to set off anything thatwould destroy civilization. The Russian Bear grumbled and sheathed itsclaws.
The vast intelligence system of the United States had reported that (A)the explosion had been caused by carelessness, not sabotage, but theChinese had had to save face, and (B) the Soviet Union had no intentionof actually starting an atomic war at that time. If she had, she wouldhave shot first and made excuses afterwards. But she _had_ hoped to makegood propaganda usage of the blast.
The Peiping Explosion had caused widespread death and destruction, yes;but it had also ended up being the fastest slum-clearance project onrecord. The rebuilding had taken somewhat more time than the clearinghad taken, but the results had been a new Peiping--a modern city inevery respect. And nowhere else on Earth was there one hundred squaremiles of _completely_ modern city. Alteration takes longer than startingfrom scratch if the techniques are available; there isn't so much deadwood to clear away.
In the middle of the city, the Chinese government had built itsequivalent of the Kremlin--nearly a third of a square mile ofultra-modern buildings designed to house every function of the CommunistGovernment of China. It had taken slave labor to do the job, but the jobhad been done.
A little more than half a mile on a side, the area was surrounded by awall that had been designed after the Great Wall of China. It stoodtwenty-five feet high and looked very quaint and picturesque.
And somewhere inside it James Ch'ien, American-born physicist, was beingheld prisoner. Spencer Candron, alias Mr. Ying Lee, had to get him out.
Dr. Ch'ien was important. The government of the United States knew hewas important, but they did not yet know _how_ important he was.
* * * * *
Man had already reached the Moon and returned. The Martian expeditionhad landed safely, but had not yet returned. No one had heard from theVenusian expedition, and it was presumed lost. But the Moon was beingjointly claimed by Russian and American suits at the United Nations,while the United Nations itself was trying to establish a claim. TheMartian expedition was American, but a Russian ship was due to land intwo months. The lost Venusian expedition had been Russian, and theUnited States was ready to send a ship there.
After nearly forty years, the Cold War was still going on, but now thescale had expanded from the global to the interplanetary.
And now, up-and-coming China, defying the Western Powers and arrogantlyignoring her Soviet allies, had decided to get into the race late andwin it if she could.
And she very likely could, if she could exploit the abilities of JamesCh'ien to the fullest. If Dr. Ch'ien could finish his work, travel tothe stars would no longer be a wild-eyed idea; if he could finish,spatial velocities would no longer be limited to the confines of therocket, nor even to the confines of the velocity of light. Man could goto the stars.
The United States Federal Government knew--or, at least, the mostresponsible officers of that government knew--that Ch'ien's equationsled to interstellar travel, just as Einstein's equations had led toatomic energy. Normally, the United States would never have allowed Dr.Ch'ien to attend the International Physicists Conference in Peiping. Butdiplomacy has its rules, too.
Ch'ien had published his preliminary work--a series of highly abstruseand very controversial equations--back in '80. The paper had appeared ina journal that was circulated only in the United States and was not readby the majority of mathematical physicists. Like the work of Dr. FredHoyle, thirty years before, it had been laughed at by the majority ofthe men in the field. Unlike Hoyle's work, it had never received anypublicity. Ch'ien's paper had remained buried.
In '81, Ch'ien had realized the importance of his work, having carriedit further. He had reported his findings to the proper authorities ofthe United States Government, and had convinced that particular branchof the government that his work had useful validity. But it was too lateto cover up the hints that he had already published.
Dr. James Ch'ien was a friendly, gregarious man. He liked to go toconventions and discuss his work with his colleagues. He was, inaddition, a man who would never let anything go once he had got hold ofit, unless he was convinced that he was up a blind alley. And, as far asDr. Ch'ien was concerned, that took a devil of a lot of convincing.
The United States government was, therefore, faced with a dilemma. Ifthey let Ch'ien go to the International Conferences, there was thechance that he would be forced, in some way, to divulge secrets thatwere vital to the national defense of the United States. On the otherhand, if they forbade him to go, the Communist governments would suspectthat Ch'ien knew something important, and they would check back on hisprevious work and find his publications of 1980. If they did, andrealized the importance of that paper, they might be able to solve thesecret of the interstellar drive.
The United States government had figuratively flipped a coin, and theresult was that Ch'ien was allowed to come and go as he pleased, asthough he were nothing more than just another government physicist.
And now he was in the hands of China.
How much did the Chinese know? Not much, evidently; otherwise they wouldnever have bothered to go to the trouble of kidnaping Dr. James Ch'ienand covering the kidnaping so elaborately. They _suspected_, yes: butthey couldn't _know_. They knew that the earlier papers meant something,but they didn't know what--so they had abducted Ch'ien in the hope thathe would tell them.
James Ch'ien had been in their hands now for two months. How muchinformation had they extracted by now? Personally, Spencer Candron feltthat they had got nothing. You can force a man to work; you can forcehim to tell the truth. But you can _not_ force a man to create againsthis will.
Still, even a man's will can be broken, given enough time. If Dr. Ch'ienweren't rescued soon....
_Tonight_, Candron thought with determination. _I'll get Ch'ientonight._ That was what the S.M.M.R. had sent him to do. And that's whathe would--_must_--do.
Ahead of him loomed the walls of the Palace of the Great ChinesePeople's Government. Getting past them and into the inner court was anact that was discouraged as much as possible by the Special Police guardwhich had charge of those walls. They were brilliantly lighted andheavily guarded. If Candron tried to levitate himself over, he'd mostlikely be shot down in midair. They might be baffled afterwards, whenthey tried to figure out how he had come to be flying around up there,but that wouldn't help Candron any.
Candron had a better method.
* * * * *
When the automobile carrying the People's Minister of Finance, theHonorable Chou Lung, went through the Gate of the Dog to enter the innercourt of the Palace, none of the four men inside it had any notion thatthey were carrying an unwanted guest. How could they? The car was asmall one; its low, streamlined body carried only four people, and therewas no luggage compartment, since the powerful little vehicle wasdesigned only for maneuvering in a crowded city or for fast, short tripsto nearby towns. There was simply no room for another passenger, andboth the man in the car and the guards who passed it through were sowell aware of that fact that they didn't even bother to think about it.It never occurred to them that a slight, elderly-looking gentleman mightbe hanging beneath the car, floating a few inches off the ground,holding on with his fi
ngertips, and allowing the car to pull him alongas it moved on into the Palace of the Great Chinese People's Government.
Getting into the subterranean cell where Dr. James Ch'ien was being heldwas a different kind of problem. Candron knew the interior of the Palaceby map only, and the map he had studied had been admittedly inadequate.It took him nearly an hour to get to the right place. Twice, he avoideda patrolling guard by taking to the air and concealing himself in thedarkness of an overhead balcony. Several other times, he met men incivilian clothing walking along the narrow walks, and he merely noddedat them. He looked too old and too well-dressed to be dangerous.
The principle that made it easy was the fact that no one expects a loneman to break into a heavily guarded prison.
After he had located the building where James Ch'ien was held, he wenthigh-flying. The building itself was one which contained the