The key was ready in my hand as I approached the door. The road ahead was empty-then I heard the footsteps coming up behind me. The police? With boring repetition my heart started the thudding routine again. I walked slower as I came close to the door. Then stopped and bent over and slipped the palmed key into my hand as though I had just picked it up. I examined it closely as someone came up, then passed me. A young man who showed . not the slightest interest in my existence. He went on and turned into the back entrance to the market.
I took one look over my shoulder-then jumped for the door before anything else happened. Turned the key, pushed-and of course it didn't open.
The delay mechanism I had installed was working fine. It would unlock in one minute. Sixty short seconds.
Sixty incredibly crawling seconds. I stood there in my fine business outfit, as out of place in this alley as teats on a boar porcuswine, as we used to say back on the ranch. Stood there and sweated and waited for police or passersby to appear. Waited and suffered.
Until the key turned, the door opened-and I fell through.
Empty! On the far wall the automatic machinery clattered and wJlirred. The drink dispenser gurgled and a filled container whistled down its track and vanished. To be followed by the steaming bulk of a burger. Night and day this went on. But among all this mechanical motion no human form appeared. They had captured him-the police had The Bishop. And they would capture me next. — .. "Ahh, my boy, I thought it might be you this time." The Bishop emerged from the freezer, immense in his insulated gear, his sleeping roll and carryall tucked under his arm. He slammed the door behind him and the strength went out of me with a woosh and I slumped down with my back to the wall.
"Are you all right?" he "asked, concern in his voice. I waved a weak hand, "Fine, fine-just let me catch my breath. I was afraid they had you." "You shouldn't have worried. When you did not reappear within a reasonable time I assumed there had been some hitch in your plans. So I rehearsed my evacuation moves just in case the legitimate users appeared today. And they did. It is really quite cold in there. I wasn't sure how long they would be, but I was sure you had installed some way of discovering when they left... " "I meant to tell you!" "No need. I found the hidden speaker and switch and listened to someone who mutters profanities while he works. After some time the slam of the door and silence were welcome information indeed. Now about yourself. There were problems?" "Problems!" I burst out laughing with relief. Then stopped when I heard a hysterical edge to the sound. I told him, omitting some of the more gruesome details. He made appropriate noises at the right places and listened attentively until the bitter end.
"You are being too harsh on yourself, Jim. A single lapse after all the tension of the day is not to be unexpected. " "B. ut not to be allowed! Because I was stupid I almost had both of us caught. It won't happen again." "There is where you are wrong," he said, shaking a thick admonitory finger. "It could happen at any timeuntil you have trained yourself in your work. But you will be trained and trained efficiently..." "Of course!" "...until a lapse like this one will be impossible. You have done incredibly well, for one of your inexperience. Now you can only improve." "And you will teach me how-how to be a successful crook Rke you!" His brow turrowed at my words 'and his expression was grave. What had I said that was wrong? I chewed my sore lip with worry as he unrolled his bedroll in silence, spread it out then sat upon it crosslegged. When at last he spoke I hung upon his every word.
"Now your first lesson, Jim. I am not a crook. You are not a crook. We do not. want to be criminals for they are all individuals who are stupid and inefficient. It is important to comprehend and appreciate that we stand outside of society and follow strict rules of our own, some of them even stricter than those of the society that we have rejected, It can be a lonely life-but it is a life you must choose with your eyes open. And once the choice has been made you must abide by it. You must be more moral than-they are because you will be living by a stricter moral code. And this code does not contain the word 'crook. ' That is their word for what you are and you must reject it." "But I want to be a criminal..." "Abandon the thought-and the title. It is, and you must excuse me saying it, a juvenile ambition. It is only your emotional striking out at the world you dislike and cannot be considered a reasoned decision. You have rejected them-but at the same time accepted their description of what you are. A crook. You are not a crook, I am not a crook. " "Then-what are we?" I asked, all eagerness. The Bishop steepled his fingers as he intoned the answer.
"We are Citizens of the Outside. We have rejected the simplistic, boring, regimented, bureaucratic, moral, and ethical scriptures by which they live. In their place we have substituted our own far superior ones. We may physically move among them-but we are not of them. Where they are lazy, we are industrious. Where they are immoral, we are moral. Where they are liars, we are the Truth. We are probably the greatest power for good to the society that we have discarded." I biinked rather rapidly at that one, but waited patiently because I knew that he would soon make all clear. He did.
"What kindofa galaxy do we live in? Look around you. The citizens of this planet, and of every other planet in the loose organization known as the Galactic League, are citizens of a fat, rich union of w5rlds that has almost forgotten the real meaning of the word crime. You have been in prison, you have seen the dismal rejects whom they consider criminals. And this is what is called a frontier world! On the other settled planets there are few malcontents and even fewer who are socially maladjusted. Out there the handful who are still being born, in spite of centuries of genetic control, are caught early and their aberrations quickly adjusted. I made one single trip oflplanet in my life, a tour of the nearest worlds. It was terrible! Life on those planets has all the color and wonder of a piece of wet cardboard. I hurried back to Bit 0' Heaven for, loathsome as it can be at times, it is still a bit o' heaven compared to the others. " "Someday-1 would like to see these other worlds. " "And so you shall, dear boy, a worthy ambition. But learn your way around this one first. And be thankful they don't have complete genetic control here yet-or the machines to mentally adjust those who struggle against society. On other planets the children are all the same. Meek, mild, and socially adjusted. Of course some do not show their genetic weakness-or strength as we call it-until they are adults. These are the poor displaced ones who try their hands at petty crimes-burglary, shoplifting, rustling and the like. They may get away with it for a week or two or a month or two, depending on their degree of native intelligence. But as sure as atomic decay, as sure as the fall of leaves in the autumn-and just as predestined-the police will eventually reach out and pull them in." I digested this information, then asked the obvious question.
"But if that is all there is to crime, or rebellion against the system-where does that leave you and me?" "I thought you would never ask. These dropouts I have described, whom you have associated with in prison, comprise ninety-nine point nine percent of crime in our organized and dandified society. It is the last and vital one-tenth of one percent that we represent that is so vital to the fabric of this same society. Without us the heat death of the universe would begin. Without us the lives of all the sheep-like citizenry would be so empty that mass suicide to escape it would be the only answer. Instead of pursuing us and calling us criminals they should honor us as first among them!" There were sparks in his eyes and thunder in his voice when he spoke. I did not want to internipt his fulminatory speech, but there were questions to be asked.