“Is there any way to take it out?” Eric asked, a sense of horror crawling in his stomach.
The grizzled head shook once. “No. Technically, putting the chip in is a very difficult operation, because even though pinpoint precision is impossible, the electrodes still have to be placed with great accuracy. But physiologically, it’s a relatively minor operation. And getting the chip out is a snap. Just cut the surface of the skin and pull it out, electrodes and all.”
“But you said there was no way to—”
Cliff slowly lifted his left arm. “See this?”
“The wrist computer?”
“Yes. Have you tried to remove it?”
“Oh, yes.”
Cliff pointed to the spot where the band joined the watch itself. “In addition to being waterproof and shockproof, the band is connected to the face with pressure-sensitive relays, so you can’t take it off. A good, hard pull triggers what they so elegantly call the ‘punishment mode.’ Also, I don’t understand how yet, but the implantation and the wrist computer are somehow linked together with the main computers in Central Control. If you try and remove either one, it automatically triggers the maximum punishment response in the other. Either way it’s lethal.”
“There’s got to be some way to get this thing out.”
“Did you hear me, Eric? I said lethal. That means it kills you.”
“There’s got to be some way,” he said stubbornly.
Cliff leaped up. “Will you listen to me? You aren’t up against a bunch of amateur toy designers, Eric. They haven’t built an empire of two hundred thousand people by overlooking the obvious. It’s programmed to kill anyone who tries. They aren’t doing this for fun.”
He stopped, the pain suddenly twisting his features, and his voice fell to a whisper. “Eric, I haven’t just been sitting around these last few days. I have asked everyone. There is no way out of this thing. None!” He sat down heavily on the cot. “None, Eric. Welcome to Utopia.”
Eric’s jaw was rigid, and his eyes had narrowed to tiny pinpoints. “I can’t accept that. There must be—”
“Eric Lloyd!”
The blaring speaker caused them both to jump, and Eric spun around to the mirror. Cliff’s reappearance from the dead, and then the horror of his revelations, had totally driven Nicole Lambert and the mirror from Eric’s mind.
“Mr. Lloyd, we would like to talk to you and Dr. Cameron. We’re coming in.” As Nicole stepped through the door ahead of the Major, she watched Eric’s eyes closely, anxious to read his reactions. They flicked once to her, then to the Major. They were a hunter’s eyes, scanning quickly, missing nothing. Nicole was fascinated. The gray depths betrayed absolutely no expression as they probed. If the Major was bothered, he gave no sign, just waited patiently, as if amused.
Finally the eyes turned back to her. She caught what she thought was a flash of anger as he noted her orange and blue uniform, but it was gone so quickly that she couldn’t be sure. When the gaze returned to lock into her own, a faint smile of derision toyed at the corners of Eric’s lips, and she knew that he had deduced who she was.
The Major stepped forward and thrust out his hand toward the older man. “Dr. Cameron? How do you do. My name is Major Denison.”
The doctor’s eyes widened slightly as he accepted the proffered hand. “Dr. Major Denison? Curtis Major Denison?”
Eric’s head jerked around to stare at Cliff, but he was no more surprised than Nicole or the Major. “Yes. Do we know each other?”
“No, I just know of you. What neurosurgeon hasn’t heard of the pioneering brain research of Curtis Major Denison and the U.S. Air Force Cybernetics Team?”
“Well, thank you,” the Major said, obviously pleased. “For you to remember that, after eighteen years, I take as a special compliment.”
“When the others kept referring to ‘the Major,’ I assumed it was a title, a military rank.”
The Major smiled, revealing even white teeth. “I don’t know exactly how that came about. It just kind of happened over the years. Now everyone calls me ‘the Major.’” He chuckled. “I’ve never had the heart to tell them, but actually I was a brigadier general in the Air Force.”
Nicole’s expression caused him to laugh. “See, even my staff doesn’t realize they’ve demoted me.”
He turned slightly and again put out his hand. “You’re Eric Lloyd. I’m very pleased to meet you.” He held his hand in midair for a moment, then shrugged, unperturbed by the other’s implacable gaze. “Dr. Cameron knows me by reputation,” he said easily, “and I knew of your father in the same way, Eric. Though I realize it’s little consolation to you now, I deeply regret that he was killed. I admired his courage and integrity very much.”
Nicole expected that to trigger an outburst, but Eric just watched, his face an unreadable mask.
The Major turned and took Nicole by the arm. “May I present Nicole Lambert, one of our staff officers in the Monitoring Control Center.”
Dr. Cameron merely nodded, but Eric spoke for the first time. “We’ve met,” he said dryly.
Nicole nodded, holding his gaze until he looked away.
“Sit down,” the Major invited, motioning the two men to the cot. Not waiting for them to obey, he stepped over and picked up the wooden stool, flicked off a minute speck of dust, then sat it down for Nicole, placing it where she would be facing both men. As he straightened, he saw that neither of them had moved.
“Dr. Cameron, just before Nicole and I entered, you and Eric were speculating on his present condition, I believe.”
The doctor nodded, almost imperceptibly.
“I can understand your suspicions and your reluctance to trust me, or anyone else in Shalev, for that matter, but I assure you, our only desire is to get Eric out of detention as soon as possible. Now, if you’d sit down, both of you, we’ll not prolong this any longer than necessary.”
Dr. Cameron complied, followed a moment later by Eric. As he sat on the cot, the doctor’s eyes never left the Major’s face. “So,” he finally said, half to himself, “Dr. Curtis M. Denison. That explains a great deal. I heard you’d gone into top-secret brain research. Rumors kept cropping up, but…” He let the words trail off.
“Yes,” the Major responded, leaning easily against the wall. “Actually I proposed a project for the military and was given control of it. We called it ‘Benevolent Pacification.’ Our basic task was to explore ways of taking a hostile civilian population conquered in war and render them harmless and obedient without resorting to violence, threat, incarceration, or military occupation.”
“Benevolent pacification?” Eric said bitterly. “Is that what our village got? You make it sound so beautiful.”
“No,” the Major responded, “that’s what we called our research for the Joint Chiefs of Staff. It was crude and ill-conceived. I’m not really very proud of those years, as a matter of fact. However, it did provide the foundation for what was to come.”
“Obviously,” Eric said. “And what does your Bureau of Beautiful Names call what you have done here? ‘Brain Bending for Fun and Profit?’ Or how about ‘Self-Discipline Made Easy’?”
Nicole glanced at the Major, remembering how Eric’s rapiertongued comments could raise his ire, but if the Major had heard, he gave no sign. He was looking at Dr. Cameron and ignored Eric completely.
“Like Colonel Karl Lloyd, I sensed that the world’s insanity was plunging us toward the brink of annihilation. And like Eric’s father, I started to prepare.” He paused for a moment, his eyes wide and thoughtful behind his glasses. “However, instead of retiring from the military, I used the tremendous resources at our disposal. It was so closely related to the Benevolent Pacification program that, in those last hectic couple of years, no one took any real notice of our change in direction. We had tens of millions of dollars at our disposal.”
He smoothed his mustache with his thumb and forefinger, absently, as he thought back. “We chose this site very carefully. We figured Kalispell would not attract any direct strikes, which it didn’t. It has the natural resources we needed to survive afterwards—a relatively mild climate for as far north as we are, rich farmland, unlimited water and timber, a major hydroelectric plant nearby—it was the ideal location. We spent millions purchasing equipment—not just the supplies we needed to survive, but manufacturing tools, whole factories, and laboratories. And more importantly, we identified and gathered experts from a dozen fields we considered would be critical after the war was over. It took more than two years of intensive and extensive preparations, and we still weren’t ready when it came.”
“How did you escape the war?” Dr. Cameron was obviously interested in what the Major was saying, in spite of his outward coolness.
“We convinced the Pentagon we were setting up a model community in which to fully test our program. We stockpiled enough food and supplies to last a year, and then, like your group, rode it out. Once it was over, we began collecting survivors.”
The Major straightened, throwing off the somberness of the memories. “But the second way in which I differed from Eric’s father is that I wanted to do more than survive the war. I wanted civilization to survive—with the assurance that such a war would never happen again.”
He stretched out both hands in front of him, as though offering Cliff Cameron the concept in visible, tangible form for him to examine. “A moment ago, you and Eric spoke of Utopia. The ideal society. Civilization perfected. Do you know the one thing that has always stopped us from achieving that dream?”
“I’m at a total loss.”
The Major obviously missed Cliff’s faintly laconic sarcasm, for he nearly shouted the answer in his excitement. “People!”
“People,” the doctor repeated like a dutiful student.
“Yes, people. Even the most brilliant of plans, the most carefully structured organization can be totally destroyed by one unpredictable, wild-eyed rebel, or brought into the dust by the groveling, self-centered mindlessness of the very people who would most benefit from it. Many have tried to overcome the incredible inertia of the human factor and failed. They have tried everything—religion, coercion, government regulation, laws, philosophy, bribery, terror.” He punched out each word like a small explosion. “And all of them failed.”
It was obvious from the expression on his face that the Major was not completely heartbroken at the dismal record. “And do you know why they failed? Do you know why?”
Dr. Cameron’s slow, soft tone was like a dash of cold water in the face of that mesmerizing voice. “Let me guess. Because they couldn’t get at the mind?”
“Exactly!” the Major exulted. “Exactly right, Dr. Cameron! Even the most fiendish, diabolical torture cannot change the way a man thinks. Oh, it will bring him into line temporarily, but once the threat is removed, he will revert back to old patterns immediately.”
Eric had obviously taken a cue from the older man’s example. When he spoke, his voice was soft but musing. “So instead of fiendish, diabolical torture, you use gentle, sophisticated electronic massage.” His eyes came up and met Nicole’s. “And get lovely young ladies to push the buttons to make it all seem very elegant.”
Nicole flushed and fought the impulse to look away, to escape his gaze, but she couldn’t hold her eyes up to that brutal, probing stare.
“Sneer if you wish, my insolent young friend,” the Major snapped, for the first time stung by Eric’s response. “You were brought up in a tiny village isolated from the world. You’ve never seen the results of man’s uncontrolled nature. Rape, child molestation, terrorism, war, mass murder, genocide—ah, yes, Eric, you little know the effects of man’s uncontrolled nature. And nothing in history—not religion, not government, not torture, not executions—nothing has ever cured man’s animal tendencies. But we have! For the first time in history, we have taught man to suppress the evil in him and let only the good surface.”
“Through implantation?” Dr. Cameron asked scornfully, his eyes full of contempt. Then even as she watched, Nicole saw the first flickers of pain tug at the corners of his mouth. She looked down quickly, as he visibly struggled with his emotions.
“Yes, through implantation,” the Major said, his voice lowering again as he watched the doctor’s reaction with an understanding nod. “At this very moment you’re seeing it work. By punishing these negative tendencies in their earliest stages—with a very mild punishment, I might add—we teach an individual to give way only to his best impulses. We don’t change him by force, only teach the better part of his nature to surface.”
“It’s obvious,” Cameron said, wiping at the sweat on his forehead, “that your definition of force is very different from mine.”
But it was like putting out one’s hand to stop an avalanche. The Major rolled on without any detectable deflection from his course. He turned to Nicole, his eyes shining with excitement. “Just ask Miss Lambert. She’s spent nearly all her life in Shalev. Is it so monstrous, Nicole?”
“Monstrous?” she responded, meeting and holding Eric’s disdainful glare. “What is monstrous to me is what people tolerated before Termination. When I read what it was like then, or see the old movies, I find it difficult to comprehend that people could say that was an acceptable way to live.”
Dr. Cameron’s eyes held no condemnation like Eric’s, only sorrow. “How old were you at Termination, Nicole?”
“Six.”
“And your parents? Did they find life before so terrible?”
She lifted her head, her green eyes flashing fire. “My father, a Seattle policeman, was killed by six hoodlums when he tried to help an old woman they were beating up. My mother was eight months pregnant at the time. The shock caused her to go into labor. She died giving birth to me.”
Dr. Cameron’s face was suddenly very old and very tired. “I see.”
“Do you, Dr. Cameron?” the Major broke in. “Do you really see what we have accomplished here?”
“Yes, I see very clearly. I lived in Los Angeles for thirty years. I’ve walked the streets at night and feared for my life. I’ve read in the papers and watched on television the incredible evil of man’s dealings with his fellowman. And I watched as the world took the ultimate plunge and destroyed the work of a thousand years.”
His head came up, and he stared directly into the Major’s eyes. “But I don’t think I have ever felt deeper horror, that I have ever been more thoroughly terrified, than I am at this moment.”
The Major flinched as though he had been struck, and Nicole noted the almost instant flush of anger, but when he spoke, his voice betrayed nothing. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Dr. Cameron. I’m confident that as time goes on, your feelings will change. You expect some kind of chamber of horrors out there, but you’ll quickly see that just the opposite is true.”
He took a deep breath and turned to Eric. “But enough of this. I didn’t come to try and convert you. Shalev will convert you soon enough. We’ve come to make Eric a special offer.”
Only Eric’s eyes betrayed the fact that he had heard the Major.
“It’s obvious,” the Major went on smoothly, “that you detest the idea of implantation. I’m offering you an opportunity to avoid it.”
That broke through the mask momentarily, and Nicole smiled inwardly at the sudden start of surprise that flashed across Eric’s face. The Major was a master at this, using the bait and the prod simultaneously.
“Why?” Eric finally asked.
“We have an organization called the Guardians. Within the cities, they function only to help and protect people. They serve as our firemen, traffic officers, paramedics, and so on. They have no crime to fight, no riots to suppress, no disorders to worry about. So they’re not police, merely guardians. But that’s not our real challenge. We have an outer perimeter of over a thousand miles, much of it forest wilderness. Eighty percent of the total Guardian forces patrol that perimeter and keep out intruders—roving bands of savages who prey on the labor of others. I believe Travis said you called them the Marauders.”
Cliff nodded.
“An appropriate name. But anyway, we need someone of Eric’s experience in the mountains in that perimeter watch force.”
“You still haven’t answered the real why,” Cliff spoke up. “I can see why you’d have use for a man like Eric. But why not implant him too?”
“Good point,” the Major conceded. “The answer is that the nature of the work may sometimes require him to do things, such as engage in combat with the Marauders. The implantation would never allow him to do that. He must be free to act quickly and without fear of pain in such cases.”
“You are still begging the question, Dr. Denison. Why not simply take someone who has grown up in Shalev and make him a Guardian by removing his implantation?”
“A very perceptive question,” the Major responded with grudging approval. “I must admit that once someone has grown up under implantation, he becomes thoroughly conditioned to it. Simply removing it makes little difference. He continues to act as though implanted.”
“Yes, I understand that perfectly,” Cliff answered with disgust edging his voice again. “It says mountains about the effectiveness of your system.”
Eric broke in before the Major could respond. “Why should I be interested in joining you?”
The Major half turned. “Nicole, would you like to answer that for Eric?”
She nodded. “Obviously the most important and immediate benefit to you would be to avoid implantation yourself. But there are other benefits. The salary is very attractive. You’d be furnished with both a car and an apartment or a small home. But probably the second most important advantage is that your family would be brought up to a Stage One implantation as soon as you’d convince us you’re sincere about becoming a Guardian.”
“What does that mean—Stage One?”
“Implantations are not all the same. There are three levels of intensity. Stage Three is the most tightly controlled. This is rarely used. The majority of people in Shalev are at Stage Two. This is what Dr. Cameron and your family are under now. Dr. Cameron has described quite accurately how that works. Stage One implantation is minimal, protecting only against the grosser kinds of behavior. The assumption is that people will be motivated to control themselves if they know they may lose their Stage One status.”
“I’m sorry if I keep shaking my head,” Eric said, “but I’m still trying to adjust to this. You talk about it as if you were sticking a fork in a piece of meat to see if it’s done or not. These are people you’re talking about. People! Not halves of beef!”
Nicole flushed but went on firmly. “Once you have fully proven yourself as a Guardian, your immediate family members will have their implantations completely removed. I suggest that if you’re so horrified by it all, you seriously consider the Major’s offer.”
When Eric gave no response, the Major spoke up. “So you see, Eric, if you agree to join us, we benefit, you benefit, and your family benefits. It’s an opportunity that not many young men are offered.”
“I’m deeply touched.”
The Major ignored the sarcasm in Eric’s voice. “We’ll let you think about it for twenty-four hours. Nicole will be your controlling officer should you choose to accept. You may call her anytime before then. She’ll be happy to answer any questions you may have. If she isn’t in the observation room when you need her, they’ll get her.”
Nicole stood up, sensing the meeting had ended.
“Consider it carefully, Eric,” the Major said earnestly. “I know you’re full of hate and bitterness now. But be realistic. And think of your family as well as yourself.” He turned. “Dr. Cameron, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave with us now.”
Without answering, Eric turned to Cliff and gripped his hand. “At least you’re alive. That’s something.”
The older man nodded, his eyes probing deeply into Eric’s. “Eric,” he finally said, “Dr. Denison is right. Don’t let your emotions take the reins now. Think very carefully about his offer. I see no other options. If your father were here, he’d say the same thing. There are no other options. Do you understand that?”
Eric finally nodded, his mouth a hard line. “Yes, I think I do.”