The Status Civilization

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Dravivian led him into a large room paneled in walnut. The furniture wasof a heavy, black wood, intricately carved and varnished. The desk, highand straight, seemed to be an antique. A heavy tapestry covered oneentire wall. It depicted, in fading colors, a medieval hunting scene.

  "Do you like it?" Dravivian asked. "My family did the furnishing. Mywife copied the tapestry from an original in the Metropolitan Museum. Mytwo sons collaborated on the furniture. They wanted something ancientand Spanish in feeling, but with more comfort than antiques usuallygive. A slight modification of the lines accomplished that. My owncontributions are not visible. Music of the baroque period is myspecialty."

  "Aside from policework," Barrent said.

  "Yes, aside from that." Dravivian turned away from Barrent and lookedthoughtfully at the tapestry. "We will come to the matter of the policein due course. Tell me first, what do you think of this room?"

  "It's very beautiful," Barrent said.

  "Yes. And?"

  "Well--I'm no judge."

  "You _must_ judge," Dravivian said. "In this room you can see Earth'scivilization in miniature. Tell me what you think of it."

  "It feels lifeless," Barrent said.

  Dravivian turned to Barrent and smiled. "Yes, that's a good word for it.Self-involved might perhaps be better. This is a high-status room,Barrent. A great deal of creativity has gone into the artisticimprovement of ancient archetypes. My family has re-created a bit of theSpanish past, as others have re-created bits of the Mayan, EarlyAmerican, or Oceanic past. And yet, the essential hollowness is obvious.Our automatized factories produce the same goods for us year in and yearout. Since everyone has these same goods, it is necessary for us tochange the factory product, to improve and embroider it, to expressourselves through it, to rank ourselves by it. That's how Earth is,Barrent. Our energy and skills are channeled into essentially decadentpursuits. We re-carve old furniture, worry about rank and status, and inthe meantime the frontier of the distant planets remains unexplored andunconquered. We ceased long ago to expand. Stability brought the dangerof stagnation, to which we succumbed. We became so highly socializedthat individuality had to be diverted to the most harmless of pursuits,turned inward, kept from any meaningful expression. I think you haveseen a fair amount of that in your time on Earth?"

  "I have. But I never expected to hear the Chief of the Secret Police sayit."

  "I'm an unusual man," Dravivian said, with a mocking smile. "And theSecret Police is an unusual institution."

  "It must be very efficient. How did you find out about me?"

  "That was really quite simple. Most of the people of Earth aresecurity-conditioned from childhood. It's part of our heritage, youknow. Nearly all the people you met were able to tell that there wassomething very wrong about you. You were as obviously out of place as awolf among sheep. People noticed, and reported directly to me."

  "All right," Barrent said. "Now what?"

  "First I would like you to tell me about Omega."

  Barrent told the Police Chief about his life on the prison planet.Dravivian nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

  "Yes, it's very much as I expected," he said. "The same sort of thinghas happened on Omega as happened in early America and Australia. Thereare differences, of course; you have been shut off more completely fromthe mother country. But the same fierce energy and drive is there, andthe same ruthlessness."

  "What are you going to do?" Barrent asked.

  Dravivian shrugged his shoulders. "It really doesn't matter. I suppose Icould kill you. But that wouldn't stop your group on Omega from sendingout other spies, or from seizing one of the prison ships. As soon as theOmegans begin to move in force, they'll discover the truth anyhow."

  "What truth?"

  "By now it must be obvious to you," Dravivian said. "Earth hasn't foughta war for nearly eight hundred years. We wouldn't know how. Theorganization of guardships around Omega is pure facade. The ships arecompletely automatized, built to meet conditions of several hundredsyears ago. A determined attack will capture a ship; and when you haveone, the rest will fall. After that, there's nothing to stop the Omegansfrom coming back to Earth; and there's nothing on Earth to fight themwith. This, you must realize, is the reason why all prisoners leavingEarth are divorced from their memories. If they _remembered_, Earth'svulnerability would be painfully apparent."

  "If you knew all this," Barrent asked, "why didn't your leaders dosomething about it?"

  "That was our original intention. But there was no real drive behind theintention. We preferred not to think about it. We assumed the status quowould remain indefinitely. We didn't want to think about the day whenthe Omegans returned to Earth."

  "What are you and your police going to do about it?" Barrent asked.

  "I am facade, too," Dravivian told him. "I have no police. The positionof Chief is entirely honorary. There has been no need of a police forceon Earth for close to a century."

  "You're going to need one when the Omegans come home," Barrent said.

  "Yes. There's going to be crime again, and serious trouble. But I thinkthe final amalgamation will be successful. You on Omega have the drive,the ambition to reach the stars. I believe you need a certain stabilityand creativeness which Earth can provide. Whatever the results, theunion is inevitable. We've lived in a dream here for too long. It'sgoing to take violent measures to awaken us."

  Dravivian rose to his feet. "And now," he said, "since the fate of Earthand Omega seem to be decided, could I offer you some refreshment?"