This realization set Paul’s heart to beating fast, and set his mind to scheming. The Mating Assignments would go into effect just as soon as the plan for the shifting of cubicle occupancy could be drawn up. This would, he knew, take a week. As it turned out, he had plenty of time. He was ready to begin operations in two days.
His job gave him an initial advantage. As an air filtration maintenance engineer, he was free to rove throughout the entire area of Complex 55. No one would question his presence in one place or his absence from another. All he needed was a work schedule that would take him on a route in the vicinity of first one of his victims and then the other.
Thursday came, and he had to waste a whole afternoon trudging about with the Exercise Platoon. On Friday, however, luck turned in his favor. As he glanced at the sheet which listed the air filtration trouble spots he was to visit that morning, he knew the time had come.
He carried his sharp steel blade tucked into his belt under his shirt. In his soft-soled, non-conductive shoes he padded noiselessly along the antiseptic corridors. His work schedule was tight, but the route was perfect. He could spare a minute here and there.
He arrived first in the vicinity of Richard 3833. The latter worked in Virus Chemistry, had his own private corner where he could work more efficiently out of sound and view of his fellows. Paul found him there, absorbed in peering through a microscope. “Richard,” Paul greeted him softly, “congratulations on your Mating Assignment. Carol’s a fine girl.”
There was always a chance, of course — perhaps one in fifty, or a hundred — that a microphone would be eavesdropping or a television screen peeking in on them. But Richard — and Laura too, for that matter — had never caused any trouble. So they would not be under special surveillance. And very seldom did the guards monitor anyone during working hours. The small risk had to be taken. He would conduct his business as quickly as possible though.
“Thanks,” Richard said. But his mind wasn’t on Carol. “Say, while you’re here, take a look at this little beast on this slide.” He climbed off his stool and offered his place to Paul.
Paul took an obliging look, and managed surreptitiously to turn a couple of adjustment knobs while he was doing it. “I can’t see a thing,” he said.
Richard patiently went back to re-adjusting the knobs. His broad back was turned to Paul, all of his attention concentrated on the microscope. Paul slipped the knife from under his shirt, chose the exact point to aim at, and struck hard.
Richard’s reaction was a startled grunt. His hands clutched at the counter top. But before he sagged, Paul withdrew the blade, then stood and watched as his victim slumped into an inert heap on the floor. Then very carefully he wiped the bloody knife on Richard’s shirt, and left the laboratory immediately afterward. No one saw him go.
Within four minutes from the time he stabbed Richard 3833, Paul arrived at the Mathematical Calculation Section where Laura 6536 tended one of the huge machines. As in the case of Richard, Laura worked practically alone, out of contact with the other girls who did similar work on similar machines. Her only companion was the monster itself, an enormous panel of switches, buttons, dials, and blinking lights of all colors.
Laura saw her visitor out of the corner of her eye, but her fingers continued to type out information for the machine. She was a very conscientious worker.
“Hello there, Paul,” she said with a little giggle. She had scarcely noticed him before the Mating Assignments came out, but since that time she had grown very feminine. “Don’t tell me our cubicle’s ready to move into!”
Did she imagine that he would make a special trip to bring her news like that? He maneuvered to a position behind her and groped under his shirt for the knife.
Possibly she imagined he was going to caress her, despite the fact that such things were strictly forbidden during working hours. Her chubby shoulders trembled expectantly, awaiting his touch. He plunged the knife in quickly.
She did not sag to the floor as Richard had done, but instead fell forward over her key board. The machine continued to hum, its lights continued to flash, as Laura’s dead weight pressed down upon the keys. The machine will be giving some inaccurate answers, Paul thought with grim amusement as he withdrew the knife and wiped it on the sleeve of Laura’s blouse.
But then as he went away and back to his own work, another, pleasanter thought occupied his mind. Carol 7427 and Paul 2473 now had no mates. Surely it would be logical — and the easiest thing to do in view of the compatibility scores — for the Committee to assign these two orphans to the same cubicle. For five years, subject to renewal, of course.
He had not known what to expect. He could not predict how the rulers of Complex 55 would react. The book was an inadequate guide in this respect, since it dealt with the phenomenon of murder in the old civilization.
Murder always had the power to excite interest, the book said. Especially if the victim were well known, if the method of murder were particularly gruesome, or if there were some sensational, scandalous element involved. The newspapers featured detailed descriptions of the crime, then followed along as it unraveled, finally — if the murderer were caught — reported on the trial. The whole thing could drag on for weeks, months, even years in a spasmodic fashion.
But in Complex 55, The News of Progress was circulated that afternoon without containing any mention of an unusual happening. At Recreation that evening, nothing seemed amiss, except that Richard 3833 and Laura 6356 were missing.
Paul saw Carol there, and realized he had not spoken to her since the Mating Assignments were published. He managed to detach her from her companions, finally, and then carefully, casually asked her a question.
“Where’s Richard?”
She shrugged her attractive shoulders. “I don’t know,” she answered. “I haven’t seen him.”
He was overjoyed at her attitude. Richard was missing and she didn’t seem in the least concerned, as if she had never read the Mating Assignments. Probably she didn’t care for him at all. When this was all straightened out, she’d be quite willing to accept a new arrangement without mourning for Richard.
He stayed with her most of the evening, in a happy, languorous state. He was even beginning to believe that the authorities, confronted with a new problem outside the realm of their rules and experience, might even decide to hush the matter up, pretend it never happened, in the hope that the rank and file, if kept ignorant of the idea of murder, would never think of indulging in it.
By the time he retired that night, Paul had convinced himself of the soundness of this theory.
Reveille on Saturday morning shattered his illusions. In fact, he wasn’t even certain it was reveille because the high-pitched buzzer seemed to sound louder and more insistent. And also at an earlier hour. It was still dark outside his single window.
He climbed into his clothes quickly and joined the others out in the corridor. They were all as startled as he was, very meek, slightly uneasy.
“Forward... march!”
They tramped in long files to the end of the corridor, plunged down the iron stairs on the double, emerged into the courtyard where light awaited them. All the floodlights on the roofs and the high walls had suddenly been turned on. In their harsh glare platoons and companies formed quickly and stood at stiff attention. There was no talking in the ranks, no complaining at being routed out at this early hour. An atmosphere of fear and foreboding settled over the whole place.