Prologue to an Analogue
shroud.
"They'll have to move fast now," the Secretary of War was reporting tohis chief. "They can't afford to let us get our man up there. Even ifwe could shoot him off successfully."
"We can't shoot a man up there until we've proved in at least two moresuccessful shots that we can get him there," Security declaredforcefully. "The threat from our enemies is as nothing to the threatfrom the vote-wielding public if we tried and failed when a human lifeis at stake."
"Formosa is leaking," admitted the CIA chief. "We can't hold it morethan three days now at the outside."
The President rested a hand on his desk. "Two more shots mean at leastsix months before a man is up there, armed. Three days means Formosais in the news this week. When the news breaks, credit our doctors andbacteriologists with being on the way to a cure. Fix it so that ifthey clean up their epidemic, the way they did Suez, we get thecredit.
"That's the best we can do right now. Besides looking for a miracle.But miracles are popular these days," he added ruefully.
* * * * *
It was Bill Howard who stood outside when Randolph answered hisdoorbell next morning. He let the big, homely, almost shambling figurein without a word.
"I came to ask you a question I don't think you can answer," Howardsaid morosely, not moving farther than the foyer.
"I came to ask you what it is about the witches?"
Randolph chewed his lip, standing there beside his much-larger guest,conscious of his own prim--almost prissy--neatness as it contrasted tothe other's shaggy look. Shaggy dog, thought Randolph. Big, unkempt,shaggy St. Bernard.
"What about the witches?" he asked finally.
"Well ... there have been some funny things. That slum, of course. Iwas there, of course. I saw it. And I talked to the small-fry. It wasa tenement the day before, I'd stake a lot on it."
There was a silence before Randolph answered.
"Well?"
"Well, then a few little things. A narcotics man came to see me. Justpersonal. Just curious. They've been pulling in the higher-ups in thedope traffic, by the way--on info from the guys caught in that raid.
"Then that Canaveral deal? Were you listening that night?"
"I always tune you in. It seems to me that today is one ofcelebration. The dome landed."
"Yeah Yeah, celebration. I'm a newsman, and I get stories that don'tgo out. There's one that just an hour before zero--a man suddenly diedof a heart attack. The technician who took his place--you don't stop acountdown like that for a heart attack--checked his work and found anerror that would have misfired the thing. There was also one circuitthat had been changed, but they left that because it was changed tobe more accurate. They figured the dead guy had done it."
"So?"
"So ... well, nothing. I just wanted to ask you. The witches don't touchanything real these days, of course, so even if ... they were ... well,magic somehow, they couldn't have been involved."
There wasn't even a pause for lip-chewing this time.
"Are you trying to insinuate that Witch products--"
The question was left hanging, but Bill Howard stood there looking hissponsor in the eye.
"Mr. Randolph, I'm not trying to insinuate one damn thing. I'm noteven saying anything to anybody, and if I did say anything I'd belaughed off the air, not by you, but by whoever I said it to.
"I'm just telling you what twos and twos have been setting themselvesin front of my everlasting consciousness, and asking if you knowanything to add to them?"
The lip-chewing started again, and the two stood there. Then Randolphsaid quietly, "Mr. Howard, I have been manufacturing Witch productsfor twenty-five years. They have been improved steadily since I firststarted with a very good formula. They are the best cleaning productsavailable in the world today, I most sincerely believe. They are thatexactly, and nothing more than that exactly. So you will have to findanother explanation for your twos and twos, which I admit are a ratherspectacular run of coincidence, though not beyond the bounds ofcredibility.
"Myself, I suspect BDD&O with perpetrating some sort of hoax in thefirst instance. If any more hoaxes are perpetrated, I plan to switchagencies, switch programs, and call for an FCC investigation of BDD&Oto clear the Witch name, which never has and never would condone anyhoax of any sort, much less one of the magnitude of whatever occurred,which I profess I do not understand, but which I expect the FCC cantrace to its source.
"Good day to you, sir," Randolph ended the unprecedentedly longspeech, turned on his heel and left Bill Howard to find his own wayout.
* * * * *
That night, as Bill Howard ended his newscast, the camera did notswitch to the witches. Instead it switched to the announcer.
"Tonight, Witch Products would like you to meet a little girl," theannouncer said in a soft voice that contrasted well with Howard's justended powerful one.
As he spoke the camera backed away to broaden its scope and include inits picture, beside the announcer, a small blond child in a wheelchair. Her hair was shoulder-length and carefully combed. Her eyeswere downcast shyly. Her hands gripped the arms of the wheel chair asthough for security. Her legs were covered with a shawl.
"This is Mary," said the announcer, then leaned toward her. "Will youspeak to the audience, Mary?"
She lifted deep blue eyes briefly to the camera, then dropped themquickly. "Hello," she said in a voice barely audible.
"Mary is not used to many people, or to audiences," the announcersaid. "Mary has been sitting in this wheel chair for almost threeyears, since a crippling disease twisted her limbs.
"We hope that Mary can be made to walk. The finest surgeons in thecountry have been consulted, and they believe an operation can giveher back her legs, that were twisted when the disease struck.International Witch Corporation has arranged for that operation.
"Tomorrow Mary will go to the hospital. She will have the operationsoon. In a few weeks, perhaps Mary will walk.
"Will you like that, Mary? Will you like walking?" he asked, leaningtoward the child.
Again the eyes lifted for the briefest instant. Again they droppedshyly.
"Yes," Mary said in that barely audible voice.
"Then you shall have it, if it can be done," the announcer said, andthe camera moved even farther back to include a stage onto which thewitches danced.
The witches came onto the stage, not toward Mary, but stage center,chanting--their cry.
"Witches of the world, unite to make it clean, clean, clean, Witchclean,--NOW!"
At the corner of the screen, the child-body in the wheel chairshuddered suddenly. Mary took a deep breath, went white and then red.With a forceful gesture she threw off the shawl and looked at herlegs. Her hand reached down to touch them.
On the stage itself, one witch stopped dancing to watch. The othersnoticed, stopped. The jingle died, half through....
And Mary stood up, looking at her legs. She took a step towards thecamera, and another. Her blue eyes lifted to the camera, widening.
In the absolute quiet, as everyone on stage stood frozen, Mary walkedtowards the camera, her eyes like saucers looking into it. Her voice,barely above a whisper, spoke.
"I'm ... I'm walking," said Mary.
* * * * *
The papers called it the cruelest hoax of all.
They carried the story side by side with the withdrawal of the Witchprogram from the network, both by network and by International WitchCorporation order.
The carried the statement of FCC officials that an investigation wouldbe made.
They carried the statement by Randolph that he would sue BDD&O.
They carried the statement by Oswald that he would sue Witch Products.
But mostly they carried the story of a little girl, who had beenwhisked from sight and couldn't be located. Who had probably beengiven an operation to make it possible for her to walk, but had beenforced to pay for the operation by taking par
t in a cruel hoax ofunbelievable magnitude.
* * * * *
Bill Howard stayed with the network, on the same time, sponsorless.He'd been cleared of any implication in the hoax by all partiesconcerned, and his reputation had always been good. He was asked tostay in town and be available to appear as a witness, but the networkgambled that he was clear, and kept him on. He was one of the biggestdraws in newscasting, his personality that made the news seem tobelong to the people, to be a continuing story of their lives, wasunique. The network decided the gamble of keeping him on waswarranted.
By the next night the Formosa crisis had broken into the news, and itwas the news.
The details were horrible, and they were uncovered aplenty. Finallyungagged, those who had