Asokore Power
By L. Sprague de Camp
THE cruel sun of southern India I beat down. on the walks and terraces of the royal palace, but inside the car it was cool. The tiny blower hummed, and whisked away Fernando Brown's half-formed smoke-rings. The Director of the Asokore Laboratories parked in front of the main entrance (knowing perfectly well that he shouldn't) and got out. The hot air billowed into the car.
"His Highness will see you presently/' said the orderly or doorman or whatever he was. Brown couldn't keep the elaborate mechanism of a royal household straight. He settled in a chair in the vestibule. Having been kept waiting before by His Highness General Sir Keshub Hydar Ramanija Santosh Edward Mir Daula Shah, Rajah of Asokore, he had foresightedly brought along a technical magazine to read. He finished an article and a half before the functionary reappeared and said His Highness would see him forthwith.
AS HE strode into the Presence and bowed stiffly, Brown reflected that here was one on whom his detached attitude, which his friends called fair-mindedness and his enemies called coldbloodedness, didn't work. He hated the Rajah with all his heart. He loathed the smooth pudgy face (his own was freckled and angular, with a tendency toward squirrel-teeth) the suavely insolent manner, the excruciating Briticisms. He even hated the perfectly fitting linen suit.
His Highness raised his eyebrows in his invariable what-species-does-^if-belong-to manner."Mr. —Ah—Ah—"
"Brown, Your Highness."
"Oh yes, Brown. What did you wish to see me about?"
"The recent disturbances, Your Highness," said Brown, keeping a tight grip on his temper.
"What about them?"
"There was another riot yesterday, in the Northern Department. One of the Palestinian guards received a broken collar-bone, and another has internal injuries. Day before yesterday one was shot dead from ambush."
"Really? Why do you come to see me about it?" The Rajah inspected his finger-nails.
"Just this:" said Brown earnestly; "you and I know that our cattle-killing program is the only known way of ending this hoof-and-mouth epidemic. Most of your people understood the program and are back of it. But you and I know that certain religious and political interests have seized on the program to advance their own ends, which are inimical both to your present form of government and to the continuance of the research program that we've mapped out for the Asokore Laboratories.
"I and my European and American co-workers were brought in here and set up in these laboratories to give the people of Asokore a higher standard of living, and that, to some extent, we've succeeded in doing. And now Avanend and his gang are howling "Send the foreign blasphemers back where they came from. ' You know that that's merely an excuse to—"
"I know?" interrupted His Highness."I say, Mr. —Ah-—Brown, have you added mind-reading to your scientific techniques? How do you know what I know?"
Brown ignored the provocation."You're a well-informed man, Your Highness. This movement is getting such prestige as it can from the exploitation of your name. They call themselves royalists', and brag of having your backing. Now, a statement from you, clearing up the question—"
"Indeed, Mr. Brown? I'm afraid you've been misinformed about my functions. I'm a constitutional monarch, you know. I never mix in politics." (Liar, thought Brown. )
"But, Your Highness, the welfare of three million Asokoris—"
"I can only repeat what I said. I don't. make public statements. The question will not be discussed further."
Brown knew it was hopeless, and turned to go. The Rajah suddenly spoke: "What's this I hear about some sort of death-ray or atom-gun your chaps are developing?"
Brown recalled that old Shastri, the Prime Minister, had asked him the same question a few days previously. He told the Rajah there was nothing to it."We could hardly keep it a secret if there were, Your Highness. Atomic disintegration and metamorphosis go back half a century, to the 1930's. But a controllable atom-gun would be something else. It would require lots of apparatus and power. And every experimenter who's tried to produce one has blown up his laboratory and sometimes himself."
"Oh, really? And the person who had such an instrument would have another kind of—-ah—power." (He pronounced it "pah". ) "If such a device should be developed, I should consider it my duty to—ah-—reward the inventor fittingly for his—ah—benefit to humanity, and all that rot. You see, Mr. Brown? It wouldn't do to let such pah fall into irresponsible hands."
I see all right, thought Brown, and you can bet I'll never let any atom-gun fall, into your hands. But aloud he said: "I understand perfectly, Your Highness," and made his formal exit.
BROWN drove his car up to the ramp joining the Bangalore Highway and stopped; the light on his- instrument-board showed red. He thought as he waited, some day I'll wipe the oily smirk off your face, my foul friend. The light changed to green, and he ran the car out on the highway. As it picked up speed, the green light changed to white. Brown pushed the synchronizer lever, moved the steering-wheel up out of the way, took out his magazine, and resumed his reading. The car, no longer under his control, purred along merrily, keeping just 50 meters behind a truck. The afternoon sun blazed down on the olive-and-buff slopes of the Eastern Ghats which whirled past him.
He reached the Laboratories, on the outskirts of the City of Asokore, after five, and went to the canteen. There, as usual, Nick Tukharev, looking like a slightly Mongoloid Santa Claus, was waving a stein and orating on the sins of Capitalism. Dark, fox-faced Benoy Kumar, resplendent in purple shorts, was listening sympathetically to Quesada, the chemical engineer, tell the well-worn tale of the Spaniard—or rather, the president of the Manila Chamber of Commerce— who had blighted his life. Quesada was weeping into his beer.
Brown caught Kumar's eye, and the young physicist came over grinning toothily."Hallo, Fernando! I see by your face that it happened as I said it would. Don't worry, Shastri and his Cabinet will back you come Hell or—you Americans say high tide? Oh, high water. You see, it's not our jobs only they have to worry about, but theirs as well. Of course, after what we did with the hoof-and-mouth disease, Avanent hasn't such a hard job. You know that to the orthodox Hindu the killing of a cow is much worse than murder or incest."
"I know all about it," said Brown wearily."Our local "equivalent of the Archbishop of Canterbury called on me yesterday and lectured me on the evils of a materialistic outlook. I tried to defend science, but got nowhere. What have you been doing?"
"Oh, nothing much. Six sets of tennis this morning, and this afternoon I worked out some new approximate solutions to quintic equations, and then I went down to the hippo-farm and worked with Gus on our gadget."
"And now," said Brown with respect in his voice, "you'll have a hearty dinner of roast beef, thereby setting your pious Brahmin ancestors back a few reincarnations, and then you'll do physics all night. Wish I knew how you did it." He told Kumar in detail about his conversation with the Rajah."I wonder," he finished, "whether your and Gus's gadget mightn't be the source of these rumors about an atomic-power gun."
Kumar frowned thoughtfully."I don't see how—it's not anything like that. Unless—Gus has a girl-friend, you know."
"What! That old coot?"
"Sure; the prettiest little Asokori you ever saw. I say, Fernando, you must come down and see our gadget, even if you are busy."
"Well—I'll try to. But I've got work to do tonight."
BROWN was just finishing the last paper at midnight, when his telephone rang. He flicked the switch on his wrist. When the excited voice from the receiver on his shoulder calmed down enough to be intelligible, it identified itself as that of Brahispati, the chief engineer of the Asokore Municipal Lighting System."They tried to steal my new generators!" the voice shrilled.