If Im off everything, he thought, then Ill never see any of them again, any of my friends, the people I watched and knew. Ill be out of it; Ill be maybe retired the rest of my lifeanyhow, Ive seen the last of Arctor and Luckman and Jerry Fabin and Charles Freck and most of all Donna Hawthorne. Ill never see any of my friends again, for the rest of eternity. Its over.
Donna. He remembered a song his great-uncle used to sing years ago, in German. Ich seh, wie em Engel im rosigen Duft/Sich trstend zur Seite mir stellet, which his great-uncle had explained to him meant I see, dressed like an angel, standing by my side to give me comfort, the woman he loved, the woman who saved him (in the song). In the song, not in real life. His great-uncle was dead, and it was a long time ago hed heard those words. His great-uncle, Germanborn, singing in the house, or reading aloud.
Even if his brains not burned out, he realized, by the time Im back on duty somebody else will have been assigned to them. Or theyll be dead or in the bucket or in federal clinics or just scattered, scattered, scattered. Burned out and destroyed, like me, unable to figure out what the fuck is happening. It has reached an end in any case, anyhow, for me. Ive without knowing it already said good-by.
All I could ever do sometime, he thought, is play the holotapes back, to remember.
I ought to go to the safe apartment He glanced around and became silent. I ought to go to the safe apartment and rip them off now, he thought. While I can. Later they might be erased, and later I would not have access. Fuck the department, he thought; they can bill me against the back salary. By every ethical consideration those tapes of that house and the people in it belong to me.
And now those tapes, theyre all Ive got left out of all this; thats all I can hope to carry away.
But also, he thought rapidly, to play the tapes back I need the entire holo transport cube-projection resolution system there in the safe apartment. Ill need to dissemble it and cart it out of there piece by piece. The scanners and recording assemblies I wont need; just transport, playback components, and especially all the cube-projection gear. I can do it bit by bit; I have a key to that apartment. Theyll require me to turn in the key, but I can get a dupe made right here before I turn it in; its a conventional Schlage lock key. Then I can do it! He felt better, realizing this; he felt grim and moral and a little angry. At everyone. Pleasure at how he would make matters okay.
On the other hand, he thought, if I ripped off the scanners and recording heads and like that, I could go on monitoring. On my own. Keep surveillance alive, as Ive been doing. For a while at least. But I mean, everything in life is just for a whileas witness this.
The surveillance, he thought, essentially should be maintained. And, if possible, by me. I should always be watching, watching and figuring out, even if I never do anything about what I see; even if I just sit there and observe silently, not seen: that is important, that I as a watcher of all that happens should be at my place.
Not for their sake. For mine.
Yeah, he amended, for theirs too. In case something happens, like when Luckman choked. If someone is watchingif I am watchingI can notice and get help. Phone for help. Bring assistance to them right away, the right kind.
Otherwise, he thought, they could die and no one would be the wiser. Know or even fucking care.
In wretched little lives like that, someone must intervene. Or at least mark their sad comings and goings. Mark and if possible permanently record, so theyll be remembered. For a better day, later on, when people will understand.
In Hanks office he sat with Hank and a uniformed officer and the sweating, grinning informant Jim Barris, while one of Barriss cassette tapes played on the table in front of them. Beside it, a second cassette recorded what it was playing, for a department duplicate.
Oh, hi. Look, I cant talk.
When, then?
Call you back.
This cant wait.
Well, what is it?
We intend to
Hank reached out, signaling to Barris to halt the tape. Would you identify the voices for us, Mr. Barris? Hank said.
Yes, Barris eagerly agreed. The females voice is Donna Hawthorne, the males is Robert Arctor.
All right, Hank said nodding, then glancing at Fred. He had Freds medical report before him and was glancing at it. Go ahead with your tape.
half of Southern California tomorrow night, the males voice, identified by the informant as Bob Arctors, continued. The Air Force Arsenal at Vandenberg AFB will be hit for automatic and semiautomatic weapons
Hank stopped reading the medical report and listened, cocking his scramble-suit-blurred head.
To himself and now to all in the room, Barris grinned; his fingers fiddled with paper clips taken from the table, fiddled and fiddled, as if knitting with metal webs of wine, knitting and fiddling and sweating and knitting.
The female, identified as Donna Hawthorne, said, What about that disorientation drug the bikers ripped off for us? When do we carry that crud up to the watershed area to
The organization needs the weapons first, the males voice explained. Thats step B.
Okay, but now I gotta go; I got a customer.
Click. Click.
Barris aloud, shifting in his chair, said, I can identify the biker gang mentioned. It is mentioned on another
You have more material of this sort? Hank said. To build up background? Or is this tape substantially it?
Much more.
But its this same sort of thing.
It refers, yes, to the same conspiratorial organization and its plans, yes. This particular plot.
Who are these people? Hank said. What organization?
They are a world-wide
Their names. Youre speculating.
Robert Arctor, Donna Hawthorne, primarily. I have coded notes here, too Barris fumbled with a grubby notebook, half dropping it as he tried to open it.
Hank said, Im impounding all this stuff here, Mr. Barris, tapes and what youve got. Temporarily theyre our property. Well go over them ourselves.
My handwriting, and the enciphered material which I
Youll be on hand to explain it to us when we get to that point or feel we want anything explained. Hank signaled the uniformed cop, not Barris, to shut off the cassette. Barris reached toward it. At once the cop stopped him and pushed him back. Barris, blinking, gazed around, still fixedly smiling. Mr. Barris, Hank said, you will not be released, pending our study of this material. Youre being charged, as a formality to keep you available, with giving false information to the authorities knowingly. This is, of course, only a pretext for your own safety, and we all realize that, but the formal change will be lodged anyhow. It will be passed on to the D.A. but marked for hold. Is that satisfactory? He did not wait for an answer; instead, he signaled the uniformed cop to take Barris out, leaving the evidence and shit and whatnot on the table.
The cop led grinning Barris out. Hank and Fred sat facing each other across the littered table. Hank said nothing; he was reading the psychologists findings.
After an interval he picked up his phone and dialed an inbuilding number. Ive got some unevaluated material hereI want you to go over it and determine how much of it is fake. Let me know about that, and then Ill tell you what to do with it next. Its about twelve pounds; youll need one cardboard box, size three. Okay, thanks. He hung up. The electronics and crypto lab, he informed Fred, and resumed reading.