"I am Abraxas," the voice declared, a deep, full bass sounding like a proclamation of Moses.
The whispers turned to gasps as the delegates clasped one another frenziedly and slogged down the pink cocktails. Only Smith was unimpressed. He folded his arms in front of his chest and continued to stare at the camera.
The voice answered his unspoken challenge. "Dr. Smith, do I detect some hostility from you toward our benevolent conference?"
"Oh, no," LePat said quickly, his veneer of self-control shattered.
"Let the doctor speak for himself."
Smith answered, his expression unchanging. "That is correct," he said. The room fell again to silence. Even Circe stubbed out her cigarette and sat upright, a wave of apprehension crossing her face. "The 'benevolence' of this so-called conference is a farce. I have been brought here against my will and my personal belongings have. been taken by force. That, as far as I'm concerned, is kidnapping and theft. I don't know what sort of brainwashing you're carrying on here with your pink drinks and subliminal suggestions to do murder, but you're not going to make an Orville Peabody out of me."
The room burst into chaos. Shouts rose up from the delegates. The Belgian economist sitting next to Smith jumped up and lunged for him. "You can't talk that way to Abraxas," he shouted, grabbing Smith by the collar.
A high whistle pierced the din and silenced it. "Gentlemen," the deep voice said, unruffled. The economist released Smith and took his seat along with the other delegates.
"Dr. Smith's reservations are well taken." The camera moved from its focus on him and resumed its wide, sweeping arc. At the doorway, where she had stationed herself in case of an emergency, Circe breathed a sigh of relief and walked back to her place on the divan.
"You have all been patient these many days, waiting while our assembly has gathered from around the world. During this time little has been revealed to you about the true work of this conference. I am speaking with you now to elucidate those plans so that we may begin together, as we will end, in a unity and harmony and peace that will spread to the four corners of the earth."
"Then start with how you turned Peabody and the other two innocent men into assassins," Smith said.
"That was not the case, as you will come to understand," the voice said calmly. More pitchers of the pink beverage were passed around. Smith pushed his glass away with disdain.
"For all the ages of man, war and self-interest have destroyed any possible cooperation between the peoples of the world. Where great progress might have been made, the ends of mankind have constantly been thwarted by petty provocations. I wish to see this unhappy state ended once and for all, so that the true potential of the human race may be realized."
Smith stifled a yawn.
"My plan to accomplish this has been divided into three parts: Unity, Harmony, and Peace. Phase One of the Plan, Unity, will bring together the disparate elements of society under one common banner."
"Yours," Smith muttered under his breath.
"Yes, mine." The camera swept past him. "Abraxas will not harm those under his guidance. Mr. Peabody and the others were the beginning of Phase One, rooting out the sources of true evil in the world and making it a better place to live. Already people in every country are calling the elimination of the three terrorists a major step forward in the attainment of world peace. Some of the rotten flesh of the body of mankind has been cut away, and the instruments of surgery— Peabody, Groot, and Soronzo, have grown to the stature of legends."
"They are dead," Smith said levelly.
"Yes. And in death they have achieved immortality."
"It was a bone," Smith said. The eyes of the delegates shifted to him. Smith met them. "A bone thrown to the dogs. An empty gesture. The purpose of those killings could only have been to dupe whoever was on the receiving end of those subconscious television messages into believing that this Abraxas character is some sort of Lone Ranger, spreading good wherever he goes." He scanned the blank faces of the delegates. "Don't you understand? Three terrorists. It was nothing!"
"It was not even announced that the executions were my work," the voice on the loudspeaker said.
"Peabody announced it. In a way that made every journalist in the world pay attention."
The voice rumbled a low laugh. "Very well. I concede the point. The murders were committed to propagate the name of Abraxas. Are you satisfied, Smith?"
Smith sat down, bewildered. Abraxas had just admitted that his "benevolent conference" was a sham. And yet the faces around the table remained unchanged, staring up reverently at the camera.
It didn't make any difference to them, Smith realized with sickening clarity. Good or bad, saint or killer, Abraxas had taken their minds and swallowed them whole.
"Those men were trained to perform their tasks through the medium of television," the voice continued crisply. "As many of you know, they were instructed by subliminal messages transmitted through ordinary television programs. The same can be done on a larger scale, bringing the message of Abraxas to millions. World opinion can be swayed in a fraction of the time it would take through normal political or military channels. There will be no dissent"
"What are you talking about?" Smith asked, aghast.
"Don't be dull," Abraxas snapped. "I am talking about revolution. Revolution, Dr. Smith. In a short time this conference will formulate and carry out a worldwide revolution without spilling a drop of innocent blood."
Cheers went up from the table. Smith hung his head, feeling nauseated.
"That is Phase One. Phase Two, Harmony, will speed up the process even further. Gentlemen, we must be realistic. Although the masses will flock to the Plan of Abraxas, those wielding power and money will not easily give up their privileges for the good of society. For this reason, the private reserves of wealth must be taken from those who hoard it and redistributed to best serve the ends of humanity as a whole."
Smith sat up with a jolt. "What?"
The voice continued, deep, hypnotic, assured. The delegates at the table listened in rapt attention. "The people in this room have been assembled to devise ways to topple the world's economy and remove the corruption of private wealth. Here in this room we will find a way to eradicate the reserves of the New York and American Stock Exchanges. We will manipulate, by controlling the vast networks of communications, the prices of oil and other wealth-producing commodities."
"I can redirect the telephone lines of the OPEC countries for a day," the Middle Eastern engineer cried enthusiastically. "Chaos for one day— it will be enough to confuse the world for months."
"I can have the mail of the United States monitored for an indefinite period," the former secretary of state announced. "All priority mail will be discarded."
"A beginning," Abraxas said. "And I'm sure that Monsieur Beaupère, our banker, can arrange for the dispersal of funds from large individual accounts in Swiss banks."
"Without a trace," the elegant Swiss said lazily, sipping his cocktail. "Some of the richest men in the world will become paupers overnight."
Abraxas continued, "And you, Dr. Smith. I would like for you to take on a project by yourself. Through your genius with computers, I want you to find access into the information banks of the Internal Revenue Service. You will feed false information into the IRS computers, and confiscate the funds handled by that organization. When you have completed your task, you will do the same for the tax systems of other nations."
Smith rose out of his seat in disbelief. "You're mad," he said in a whisper, not trusting his voice. "You're talking about the destruction of civilization."
"The beginning of civilization," Abraxas corrected. "Phase Three will be the culmination of all our efforts, the end to justify the means we will use. For Phase Three, Peace, is nothing less than the reorganization of the planet."