Wytak turned to look at the map behind him. His hand touched a button and the myriad tiny lights went out.
Gustad was not an actor who wept readily, but he felt tears welling over his eyelids. At the same time, the thought crossed his mind that, competition being what it was in the realies, it was a good thing that Wytak had gone into politics instead of acting.
“Sir,” he said, “what can we do?”
Wytak’s eyes were focused far away. After a moment, his head turned heavily on his massive shoulders, like a gun turret. “Chairman Neddo has the answer to that. I want you to listen carefully to what he’s going to tell you, Alvah.”
Neddo’s crowded small face flickered through a complicated series of twitches, all centripetal and rapidly executed. “Over the past several years,” he said jerkily, “under Manager Wytak’s direction, we have been developing certain devices, certain articles of commerce, which are designed, especially designed, to have an attraction for the Muckfeet. Trade articles. Most of these, I should say all of―”
“Trade articles,” Wytak cut in softly. “Thank you, Ned. That’s the-phrase that tells the story. Alvah, we’re going to go back to the principles that made our ancestors great. Trade―expanding markets―expanding industries. Think about it. From the Arctic Ocean to the Gulf of Mexico, there are some 150 million people who haven’t got a cigarette lighter or a wristphone or a realie set among them. Alvah, we’re going to civilize the Muckfeet. We’ve put together a grabbag of modern science, expressed in ways their primitive minds can understand―and you’re the man who’s going to sell it to them! What do you say to that?”
This was a familiar cue to Gustad―it had turned up for the fiftieth or sixtieth time in his last week’s script, when he had played the role of a kill-crazy sewer inspector, trapped by flood waters in the cloacae of Under Brooklyn. “I say―” he began, then realized that his usual response was totally inappropriate. “It sounds wonderful,” he finished weakly.
WYTAK nodded in a businesslike way. “Now here’s the program.” He pressed a button, and a relief map of the North American continent appeared on the wall behind him. “Indicator.” Wytak’s porter put a metal tube with a shaped grip into his hand―a tiny spot on the map fluoresced where he pointed it.
“You’ll swing down to the southwest until you cross the Tennessee, then head westward about to here, then up through the Plains, then back north of the Great Lakes and home again. You’ll notice that this route keeps you well clear of both Chicago and Toronto. Remember that―it’s important. We know that Frisco is working on a project similar to ours, although they’re at least a year behind us. If we know that, the chances are that the other Cities know it too, but we’re pretty sure there’s been no leak in our own security. There isn’t going to be any.”
He handed the indicator back. “You’ll be gone about three months …”
Diamond was having trouble with his breathing again.
“… You’ll have to rough it pretty much―there’ll be room in your floater for you and your equipment, and that’s all.”
Diamond gurgled despairingly and rolled up his eyes. Gustad himself felt an unpleasant sinking sensation.
“You mean,” he asked incredulously, “I’m supposed to go all by myself―without even a porter?”
“That’s right,” said Wytak. “You see, Alvah, you and I are civilized human beings―we know there are so many indispensable time and labor saving devices that nobody could possibly carry them all himself. But could you explain that to a Muckfoot?”
“I guess not.”
“That’s why only a man with your superb talents can do this job for the City. Those people actually live the kind of sordid brutal existence you portray so well in the realies. Well, you can be as rough and tough as they are―you can talk their own language, and they’ll respect you.”
Gustad flexed his muscles slightly, feeling pleased but not altogether certain. Then a new and even more revolting aspect of this problem occurred to him. Your Honor, suppose I got along too well with the Muckfeet? I mean suppose they invited me into one of their houses to―” he gagged slightly―“eat?”
Wytak’s face went stony. “I am surprised that you feel it necessary to bring that subject up. All that will be covered very thoroughly in the briefing you will get from Commissioner Laurence and Chairman Neddo and their staffs. And I want you to understand, Gustad, that no pressure of any kind is being exerted on you to take this assignment. This is a job for a willing, cooperative volunteer, not a draftee. If you feel you’re not the man for it, just say so now.”
Gustad apologized profusely. Wytak interrupted him, with the warmest and friendliest smile imaginable. “That’s all right, son, I understand. I understand perfectly. Well, gentlemen, I think that’s all.”
AS soon as they were alone. Diamond clutched Gustad’s sleeve and pulled him over to the side of the corridor. “Listen to me, Al boy. We can still pull you out of this. I know a doctor that will make you so sick you couldn’t walk across the street. He wouldn’t do it for everybody, but he owes me a couple of―”
“No, wait a minute. I don’t―”
“I know, I know” said Diamond impatiently. “You’ll get your contract busted with Seven Boroughs and you’ll lose a couple months, maybe more, and you’ll have to start all over again with one of the little studios, but what of it? In a year or two, you’ll be as good as―”
“Now wait. Jack. In the first―”
“Al, I’m not just thinking about my twenty per cent of you. I don’t even care about that―it’s just money. What I want, I want you should still be alive next year, you understand what I mean?”
“Look, said Gustad, you don’t understand. Jack. I want to go. I mean I don’t exactly want to, but―” He pointed down the corridor to the window that framed a vista of gigantic columns, fiercely brilliant below, fading to massive darkness above, with a million tiny floater―lights drifting like a river of stardust down the avenue. Just look at that. It took thousands of years to build! I mean if I can keep it going just by spending three months …
“And besides,” he added practically, “think of the publicity.”
II
THE foothill country turned out to be picturesque but not very rewarding. Alvah had bypassed the ancient states of Pennsylvania and Maryland as directed, since the tribes nearest the city were understood to be still somewhat rancorous. By the end of his first day, he was beginning to regard this as a serious understatement.
He had brought his floater down, with flags flying, loudspeakers blaring, colored lights flashing and streamers flapping gaily behind him, just outside an untidy collection of two-story beehive huts well south of the former Pennsylvania border. He had seen numerous vaguely human shapes from the air, but when he extruded his platform and stepped out, every visible door was shut, the streets were empty, and there was no moving thing in sight, except for a group of singularly unpleasant-looking animals in a field to his right.
After a few moments, Gustad shut off the loudspeakers and listened. He thought he heard a hum of voices from the nearest building. Suppressing a momentary qualm, he lowered himself on the platform stair and walked over to the building. It had a single high window, a crude oval in shape, closed by a discolored pane.