Profundis, p.6
Profundis, page 6
To her astonishment and relief the Admiral beamed delightedly. ’Of course, of course,’ he said. ‘Precisely what I’d expected. Hard to fathom, was he?’
’Oh, very,’ said Commander Bonze. ‘And…er…’
‘And er what, Jo-Jo?’
The first crisis. Was he testing her? She groped and prayed. ’Unusual?’ she proffered diffidently.
‘I’m damned sure of it!’ chortled Prood, rubbing his palms together briskly. ‘Had you pretty well foxed, I’ll wager.’
A second moment of crisis? Careful now. ‘I wouldn’t go quite as far as that, sir. But puzzled certainly.’
’Old beyond his years?’ prompted Prood. ‘“All the wise men and teachers who questioned him were amazed at the answers he gave”. Doesn’t that just about sum it up?’
’Then you already know, sir?’
Wilkins appeared with the drinks and presented the tray to the Commander. She took hers, waited until the Admiral had helped himself, then raised her glass. ‘Chin-chin.’
‘Cheers, Jo-Jo.’ Prood’s throat rippled. He set down his glass. ’Found my notes helpful, did you?’
Commander Bonze choked explosively. The gas bubbles pricked the back of her nose. Her eyes bleared. She nodded desperately. ’The devil,’ she whispered huskily. ‘Jones talks to the devil.’
‘Does he, by Jove?’ said Prood. ‘It was on the cards, of course, but I thought he’d have got over all that by now. How old is he? Seventeen?’
‘Seventeen two,’ said the Commander, surreptitiously wiping the tears from the comers of her eyes. ’Obviously he’s still a virgin. And he seems to have got some sort of deep fixation on dolphins.’
’Oh, superb!’ cried Prood. ‘Ichthys, the Sign of the Fish! Magnificent! Anything else?’
Commander Bonze decided she could risk consulting her dossier. ‘I didn’t get much from association,’ she said. ’He’s obviously highly suggestible, though. In fact he seems to soak up subliminal like blotting paper.’
‘You know that could prove very useful,’ said Prood. He rose to his feet and began a thoughtful, slow-motion lope up and down the cabin, carefully avoiding the scattered photographs. His left hand nursed his right elbow, his right hand nursed his chin. After a minute or so he came to a halt beside the loafer where the Commander was sitting. ’Tell me, Jo-Jo,’ he said. ’Absolutely entre nous. What did you make of him?’ Jo-Jo leant back in her chair and raised her eyes to his. ‘Are you asking for my overall professional assessment, sir?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Your intuitive assessment.’
She touched her lower lip with the tip of her tongue. There is something odd about him,’ she said carefully. ‘Something I can’t quite place. But I’m damned if I know what it is.’
‘You didn’t think to find out whose he was?’
‘Whose?’
‘His genes, Jo-Jo.’
She shook her head.
Prood rocked back and forth on his heels, swaying above her like some benign, silver-hooded cobra. ‘I had Proteus check out his AI records half an hour ago.’
‘Well?’ she said. ‘What did he discover?’
Prood gave vent to a sort of high-pitched whinny. ‘Guess.’
‘How can I possibly…? Oh, God.…! You don’t mean…?’
‘Yes,’ said Prood. ’That’s exactly what I do mean. He’s yours, Jo-Jo! Yours and mine both! Isn’t that extraordinary?’ Commander Bonze’s iron self-control crumbled into rust. ’Oh, no, Bunjie!’ she wailed. ‘Not him! Not Jones! Oh, no!’
ten
Tom introduced Cecil to Judy, Wilbur, Sheila and Herbert during the forenoon watch. The dolphins were polite but noncommittal and it was not until Cecil had gone off to transcribe Wilbur’s report of the evening before that Judy said: ‘What happened up at Security?’
Tom told them.
They seemed as puzzled by it as he had been himself.
‘What did Bonze say when you told her about Taper?’ asked Wilbur.
‘She laughed.’
‘She didn’t believe you?’
‘I don’t know, Wilbur.’
The dolphins submerged and went into a huddle. It sounded like an office full of copy-typists on bonus rates. A minute later Judy surfaced on her own. Tom?’
‘Yes,’ said Tom.
‘We want to try something. An experiment OK?*
*What sort of experiment Judy?’
‘Communications.’
‘All right* said Tom, wonderingly. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Put your head in the tank.’
‘My head? What? All of it?’
That’s right Hold your breath. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of seconds.’
‘You promise not to pull me in?’ said Tom who had had plenty of experience of the dolphins’ fondness for practical jokes.
‘We promise.’
‘Well, all right then,’ said Tom doubtfully, and as Judy sank back below the water he gripped the rim of the tank, drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes tight and plunged his head beneath the surface.
And then something amazing happened.
He clearly saw his own face, the eyes screwed shut, the cheeks blown out, and through the transparent wall of the tank below it he dimly discerned the distorted, dark grey-green balloon of his body in its familiar, dingy fatigues. He was so astonished he yelped aloud and in so doing swallowed a scant half-pint of salt water.
He surfaced, coughing and spluttering, just as Judy re-emerged. ‘Wha-what happened?* he gasped.
‘It worked,* she said.
Tom cleared his throat noisily. ‘What worked?’
‘We contacted you.’
‘You mean that - that me - was you?’
That’s right,’ said Judy. ‘We do it all the time between ourselves.*
A drop of cold water gathered at the nape of Tom’s neck and trickled all the way down his spine to his waist He shivered. ‘But how, Judy?’
‘We don’t know how,’ said the dolphin. ‘It’s just something we’ve always done. Like swimming.*
‘Can you do it with anyone?*
I don’t think so. Herbert says we used to do it with some people a long time ago. Then it was forbidden.’
’Forbidden? Who by?’
‘You wouldn’t understand,’ she said.
‘But why was it forbidden?’
‘Herbert says the people cheated. It doesn’t matter.’
Tom frowned. ’Then why did you show me?’
‘Because you’re different’
Another drop of water followed the same shivery trail as the first ‘What do you mean - different!’
‘You’re special, Tom. You’re one of us. You talk our language.*
‘But we all do that*
‘Don’t you believe it, son. The others speak it: you feel it’
‘But I make mistakes all the time. You’re always telling me so.’
‘It’s not just that,’ said the dolphin. ’There’s something else as well. You’ve got a gift - a very special gift - and we don’t want—’
‘What are you talking about, Judy?’
‘I can’t explain. Not yet. And, Tom—’
‘What?’
‘You mustn’t tell a soul what we’ve done. No one. And especially not Taper. Promise?’
‘All right,’ said Tom, thoroughly mystified, ‘I promise. But why, Judy?’
‘Because they’d have the four of us in the lab with electric probes stuck into our brains before you could say “Tom Jones”.’
Tom went a sickly yellow and flung his arms protectively round the dolphin’s nose. ‘Never, Judy,’ he whispered. ‘Never.’
*JONES!!
‘Yes, Sergeant Major?’
‘Stop smoochin’ wiv that flippin’ fish an’ cumminere!’
‘
Aye-aye, Sar’nt Major.’
’Fer cryin’ out loud, Jones, wot the bleedin’
‘ell jer fink yer playin’ at? Jest lookatcherself! ’
Tom glanced down at his damp fatigues and palmed ineffectually at his wet hair. ‘Sorry, Sarge.’
‘Wot a bleedin’ marvellous advertizement fer Mammals Aquatic yew are, Jones. Donchew care? Ain’chew got no pride?’
‘No, Sarge - I mean, yes, Sarge.’
The android groaned with hideous frustration. ’They wan’chew back there.’
‘Back where, Sarge?’
‘Wherejer fink, dummy? Back in RH tha’s where.’
‘But why, Sarge?’
‘’Cos they jest love lookin’ at ’orrible sights like yew, Jones, tha’s why. So ’op it.’
‘What now Sarge?’
‘“Soonest” it sez ’ere,’ said the android, holding up the strip of tape. ‘“Report soonest to Commander Bonze RH6.” ’Ere’s yer warrant.’
‘What about my pass, Sarge?’
‘Yer warrant’s enough, Jones. Yew don’ need no pass.’
‘But I do, Sarge. Yesterday the Sekkies beat me up because I hadn’t got one.’
‘Now that does serprize me. Yew jest tellem Marine Sergeant Major Goff sez it’s orl official-like an’ above board. Now scarper!’
Tom quaked inwardly but stood his ground. ‘I really must have a pass, Sarge.’
The wicked teeth flashed like sabres. ‘WOT DID YEW SAY??’
‘I c-can’t go without a p-p-pass, Sergeant Major, sir. ‘Please. I d-daren’t. N-n-not without a p-p-pass.’
Goff seemed to swell visibly before the boy’s awestruck gaze. He grew vast, tremendous, terrible as an army with banners. Tom shut his eyes tight and felt as if he were about to melt away - an ice cube in the fiery mouth of a blast furnace. ‘P-p-pass,’ he whispered forlornly. ‘P-p-pass, p-p-please, S-s-sarge,’ and waited for the sky to fall on him.
Nothing happened.
After, a bit Tom opened the corner of one eye. Goff was still sitting at the desk with his awful mouth agape to roar abuse and his bulging eyes fearsomely crossed. The strip of tape was protruding from between his nerveless fingers. He did not move. ‘S-sergeant?’
No response.
‘Are you all right, Sarge?’
‘Go ahead, Tom. Help yourself. He won’t stop you.’ The voice seemed to be coming from the videophone on Goff’s desk. Taper?’
’At your service, dear boy.’
’Oh, goodness, Taper. Did you see what happened? What’s the matter with him?’
‘Needs a drop of oil maybe.’
‘But he looks ill or something.’
‘You should worry. Andy service’ll fix him. Just you grab that pass while you can.’
‘But—
‘You want those Sekkies to work you over?’
’Oh, no, Taper!’ Tom shuddered.
‘Well, then…’
‘But Sergeant Goff said…’
‘Goff! schmoff! Take a good look at him, Tom. He’s just a nasty load of cogs and chippings. Come on, lad. It’s all yours.’
So, very, very gingerly, as though convinced that at any moment the android might spring to life and rend him limb from limb, Tom reached out a trembling hand and coaxed the strip of tape from between the rigid, plastic-coated fingers.
‘Well done, lad! That’s the spirit!’ exulted Taper. ‘I always knew you had it in you! You’ll be a credit to me yet, son. You’ll see.*
‘It is all right, isn’t it, Taper? I mean no one could charge me with anything unlawful?*
‘We’re the only ones who know, Tom. You and I. It’s our little secret’
Sergeant Major Goff’s left eye suddenly came to .spasmodic life and swivelled round in wild abandon. A horrible gargling sound emerged from the plastic larynx. Tom flung a salute at him like a fistful of birdseed and scuttled for the exit
eleven
RH4 was just down the tunnel from RH6 but it was a very different sort of room. Its shape was octagonal and right in its centre was fixed what looked like a dentist’s chair. But instead of a normal headrest, this chair had a sort of elaborate cradle from which dozens of coloured wires depended. Each of the identical walls of the octagon was concealed by a black curtain. Behind seven of the curtains were seven identical screens.
Behind the eighth was the door. The distance between the headrest of the chair and the centre of each screen had been accurately calculated to ensure that any person lying in the chair would have his field of vision completely filled by the screen directly in front of him.
When Tom reported to Commander Bonze in RH6 as he had been instructed he was mildly surprised to find her standing beside a cabinet with a cut-glass decanter in her hand. ‘Come in, Jones,’ she said. ‘You’re just in time for a tot’
Tom gulped and blushed. ’Oh, I’m t.t, sir - ma’am, I mean.’
Commander Bonze smiled, picked up a tumbler from the top of the cabinet and swirled it gently round and round. this is non-alcoholic, Jones,’ she said. ‘And while you’re drinking it we’ll just take a few measurements.’
Scarcely had the words left her lips before two white-coated androids entered the cabin. One carried an outsize pair of micrometer callipers and the other a pocket calculator.
Commander Bonze took a final peek into the tumbler. ‘Sit down, Jones,’ she said. ‘And drink up.’
Tom subsided into the arm chair and accepted the tumbler she was holding out to him. It looked as if it contained water.
Commander Bonze raised her own glass and took a hearty swig. Tom did likewise and was mildly surprised to find that it was water.
‘Just put your head back,’ she said. This won’t take a moment.’
The android with the callipers pressed one arm of his instrument just above the boy’s right ear, closed in the other arm against his left ear and read of a measurement. Then he did the same thing from the front of Tom’s skull to the back.
’Finish it up, Jones.’
Obediently Tom drained off the rest of the glass. ‘What is it?’ he asked.
‘Just a little something to help you relax,’ said the Commander.
The androids completed their task and left the room. Tom sat gazing foolishly at nothing.
‘How’s Taper?’
The boy jumped as though she had prodded him with a bayonet. ‘Taper?…Oh, Taper’s - er - I don’t - that is, I suppose he’s all right’
’Then you haven’t had any more little chats with him?’
Tom flushed bright pink and shook his head.
‘Good,’ said the Commander with a chuckle. ‘We don’t want you falling into temptation, do we?’
‘No, ma’am.’
The commander unstoppered the decanter and recharged her own glass.
‘Ma’am?’
‘Yes, Jones?’
‘Can you tell me why I’m here?’
‘Don’t you like it here?’
’Oh, yes,’ said Tom. ‘It’s very nice.’
‘Good.’ She stepped across to his side, took his empty glass from him with one hand and felt for his wrist pulse with the other. ‘Why do you think .you’re here?’ she said. %
‘I don’t know, ma’am.’
‘Well, don’t worry about it.’ She let go of his wrist and replaced his tumbler on the cabinet. ’There’s nothing to worry about, Jones. Nothing at all.’
Tom nodded. He believed her. He believed her utterly.
One of the androids reappeared at the doorway. ’Everything’s ready, Commander.’
’Excellent,’ she said. ‘Come along, Jones.’
If Tom had had a tail he would probably have wagged it at that moment. He rose from the chair and stood, swaying slightly, with a faintly bemused grin on his face. He did not recall ever having felt precisely the way he felt then. He could not have explained how he felt. He did not care.
Commander Bonze caught hold of him by his forearm and urged him gently towards the door. He sailed over the metal floor like a boat; navigated himself skilfully through the doorway; bobbed his way down the tunnel in the wake of the two plodding robots, and dropped anchor in the quiet harbour of RH4.
‘Sit down, Tom.’
Not ‘Jones’, not ‘KN4 stroke two dash oh three four dash one seven stroke Jones T but ’Tom’! He was safe among friends. He stepped across to the dentist’s chair, sat down and laid back his head. At that moment he felt an overwhelming urge to confess, to rid himself of his burden of guilt, to be absolved. ‘Ma’am,’ he murmured drowsily as the cool fingers of the androids busied themselves about his skull.
‘What is it, Tom?’
Those…dolphins…ma’am.’
‘What about them?’
They…weren’t…really…there.’
‘Weren’t where, Tom?’
‘In…those…pictures…I…made…it…up.’
‘But that’s what you were supposed to do, Tom. It’s quite all right.’
Tom sighed blissfully. Slowly raising his right hand, he moved it laboriously across before his face and lowered it delicately on to that area of Commander Bonze’s uniform which concealed her substantial bust. She looked down at it, then, with the faintest of smiles, lifted the presumptuous limb by the wrist, laid it back on the armrest of the chair and deftly secured it with a plastic strap.
Five minutes later the job was complete. Commander Bonze checked the webbing which held the boy fast by his ankles, his thighs, his waist, his chest and his arms, then she nodded to the two androids. Lifting two agate earplugs she screwed one into Tom’s left ear and one into his right. She touched a switch. ’Tom?’
‘Yes, ma’am?’
‘You can hear me all right, then?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Good. You’re quite comfortable, are you?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Splendid. I’ll be with you again in just a minute.’
As though from a long way Tom heard the sound of a click, then footsteps on metal, and finally the slam of a door. The light in the octagonal room began to fade; green became blue, became indigo, became—
‘Pst! Tom! Pst!’ The urgent whisper was right there inside his own head.
