'I am being loyal to you, said Haystack, 'the best way that I know. I am trying my level best to keep us out of trouble. Why don't you listen to me?
'I do listen to you, Haystack. I listen endlessly.
'You listen but you pay no attention. You are maddened by your dream of glory. You've reached a point where you recognize no reason. Even now you are plotting how you'll use these new arrivals to the best advantage. Don't tell me that you aren't.
'It takes so long to reconstruct them, complained Smoky. 'It would seem there should be a faster method.
'The procedure is long, said Haystack, 'because there are so many factors that must be considered and worked with. There can be no mistakes, and in almost all of them that one might want to use, there are revisions to be made.
'I had given thought to making use of the originals, said Smoky, 'and not waiting for the recreations. But that could be dangerous. The others, the cubes, I know not of, but the humans are hair-triggered creatures. It is strange that after all this time, with Decker being the only one we have, two more humans should show up. Any yet I am tempted…
'You are counting on the fact that they'd be identical to Decker? You can't do that. You'd be taking a long chance. Individuals within the species may vary and, besides, with Decker there were revisions made.
'You advise caution?
'Yes, indeed I do.
'You always advise caution. I'm sick to death of your endless caution.
'Even if you had two more humans, said Haystack, 'you could not be certain they would complement Decker. They might be of differing temperament and intelligence. Decker happened to turn out to be the sort of creature you could work with; these other two might not.
'Well, we'll wait and see, said Smoky.
Plop, plop, plop, went Plopper.
Fifty-six
'I don't know, said Jill. 'This Decker person…
Tennyson put a finger to his lips, cautioning her. She looked about the room. There was nothing there. Decker had left and they were alone.
'I wonder where Whisperer went, said Tennyson. 'It's unlike him to desert us.
'Maybe he found old friends, said Jill. 'Decker said there are Dusters here. He may be hobnobbing with them.
'I wish he would come back, said Tennyson. 'We should talk with him.
'So you feel it, too.
'Yes, Jill, I feel it too.
They sat together on the sofa, looking about the room. It had familiar furniture. The carpeting was all right. The paintings on the wall had a familiar look to them. The room could have been transported back to Vatican and it would not have seemed out of place: it would have seemed all right. But despite this, there was a haunting, a frightening sense of alienness.
Tennyson reached out a hand and Jill took it. They sat side by side, holding hands, like two apprehensive children, alert and unsure of themselves, stiff and stark against the menace of a haunted house.
Jill began to speak, but Tennyson tightened his hand on hers and she gulped and said nothing.
Then: 'Jason, Whisperer is here. He's come back to us.
— Whisperer? asked Tennyson.
— I am here, said Whisperer. I'm sorry that I left you. But I found Dusters. There are Dusters here.
— Whisperer, come to us, said Jill. We should talk among ourselves.
Whisperer came to them. They sensed him in their minds.
— We think there is something wrong, said Jill. Decker isn't right.
— I wasn't sure that you noticed it, said Tennyson. But then, I was the one who knew Decker back at Vatican. He is not my Decker. How about you, Whisperer?
— He is not the Decker that I knew, said Whisperer. A Decker, but a different Decker.
— He lied to us, said Jill. He said he had not known of Mary until we told him. And that makes no sense. This place, this Center, is sensitive on the matter of security. Mary tried twice to sneak in on them, not knowing she was sneaking in, of course. Just doing her job. They might have missed her the first time, but they must have known about her the second time, for they employed their psychological defense system to drive her away. Not knowing what she was, for no one would be afraid of Mary.
— They probably picked up some data on her, said Tennyson. Maybe not too much. Not satisfactory data, for they were dealing with whatever a Listener is when it goes out to another place. But you are right, Jill. They knew about her and I'm sure they got something. Whatever they got, they must be very puzzled with it and, from my judgment of Decker's position here, he certainly must have known about it.
— Did we tell Decker too much, Jason? Did we tell him more than we should have?
— Maybe. I don't know. We had to tell him something. Maybe we did tell him too much at first. It was a while before I sensed the wrongness in him. The word 'sensed' is right, for it was only that. He held up well otherwise, but there was a wrongness to him. Something that was not the old Decker. Can you remember all we told him?
— I can remember best what we didn't tell him. We never mentioned the robots. So far as he knows, Vatican is a human institution. We never mentioned the religious angle. We never explained why the name Vatican was used. We did not tell him that Mary thought she had found Heaven. So far as he is concerned, he does not know that Vatican is anything other than a research center like this one.
— Even so, said Whisperer, it shook him up. I think it shook this Center up. It must be a shock to know there is another Center in the galaxy.
— Do you happen to know asked Tennyson, if we really penetrated this Center without their knowing it — not knowing until we were actually here?
— I am sure we did, said Whisperer.
— Once we got here, though, said Jill, they must have known. They must have all sorts of sensors out, tuned to pick up any kind of life. In any case, the first worm would have reported us.
— That's what worries me the most, said Tennyson. There is no doubt they took pictures of us — whatever you call the kind of pictures that they take. They must have data on all of us, maybe even Whisperer. By now they may have recreated another Jill and Jason, other equation people, recreated from the data.
— Could they be listening to us now? asked Jill.
— I think not, said Whisperer.
— But there are Dusters here. They know how Dusters operate.
— There are a few here now said Whisperer. At times there are none at all. My people are not a part of Center. They drift in and out. They keep a check on Center, checking back on occasion to learn what has been found, if there's anything here that they can use. And so far as recreating one of us, I doubt that they could do it. We are, after all, little more than a mass of molecules and atoms.
— You mean the Dusters are using this place?
— Well, yes, you might say they are. There has been no cooperation. My people are scattered very far.
— I put too much faith in this Decker to start with, said Tennyson. I was glad to see him. Like meeting an old friend in an unexpected place. I was blinded by my memory of the first Decker. I may have been too open. I may have said too much. It was too late to unsay it when I began to feel that he was a different man. There was a different texture to him. He was too smooth. The old Decker was never smooth. Decker II lied several times — I am sure he did. He lied about never having heard of Mary until we told him. He lied about his own data lying around for a hundred years before he was recreated. I am convinced the Bubblies would have processed his data immediately. They would have wanted to find out what it was that had come tearing down out of space straight toward them.
— You can understand the differences that are in him, said Jill. He has been subjected for at least a century — more than likely two centuries — to the influences of this place. He has come to identify with it. He accepts its viewpoints and absorbed its philosophy, if it has a philosophy and I assume it must. He seems to have it good, has made a place for himself. He is part — a triad, is it? — with this Bubbly he calls Smoky. He and Haystack. Decker II is not the same man he was. He has changed. He probably had to change to survive. You can't blame him too much. He did what he had to do. And this is not like the old Decker at all — not like the man you described to me, Jason. Your Decker never conformed, never even tried to conform. He didn't give a damn. He lived his own life, the way he wanted it, with no notice of what others might be doing.