CHAPTER THREE
"First, Mr. Solo, I hope you understand that an individual under a posthypnotic suggestion does not necessarily wander about glassy-eyed like a somnambulist. Properly implanted, such a suggestion would not only be undetectable, the subject himself would probably be unaware of its presence." "Until it went into effect," said Napoleon.
"No," said Dr. Grayson. "Not necessarily even then. The human subconscious is capable of fantastic feats of self-justification. If it lacks a valid reason for a course of action, it can supply a false one. so smoothly the conscious mind never notices. Competently handled by a stage hypnotist, a man may feel it is perfectly reasonable to get down on all fours and bray like a donkey."
She was a handsome woman, perhaps forty, with a gentle throaty voice and short auburn hair. She sat with Napoleon and Illya in a quiet conference room down a side corridor in U.N.C.L.E.'s San Francisco office, detailing all they would need to know to react appropriately in any situation they might encounter with Harry Stevens. This included an outline of what he could be expected to do.
"About thirty minutes past midnight you will go to a bar in North Beach called 'The Blue Angel.' Shortly before one, Harry will come in, wearing a dark brown corduroy jacket… He will go to the last vacant booth on the left. Do not make any attempt to contact him. At 1:12 by the wall clock he will get up and leave. The gamma laser will be wrapped in two paper napkins, tucked down between the seat and the wall on the side facing the door. If Harry is not being watched, one of you will retrieve the laser rod, the other will follow Harry and cue him into a cooperative state by showing him your U.N.C.L.E. communicator and saying-the key word, Basingstoke. Understand, he must be allowed to complete his full program in the bar and leave before you interfere with him; it could be dangerous to break him in the middle of a cycle, even though it is necessary that he be intercepted tonight."
"Basingstoke?" Illya asked.
"A sufficiently uncommon name, especially coupled with the sight of your transceiver. It won't induce a trance state, but he will become quite docile and suggestible. Bring him to the Pell Street entrance before 1:30. I'll be waiting there to take him over and implant the suggestion to seek out the specific Maintenance access code Mr. Waverly wants so urgently. I will also see he is returned home safely before dawn."
"You understand, of course, this will be your action only if you are satisfied he is not under surveillance. If there is any indication he is being followed, you will make no move at all. Mr. Waverly wants him re-programmed as soon as possible, but not to the extent of jeopardising his cover. We do have an alternate plan, somewhat less graceful, to get to Harry."
"But we still pick up the laser," said Illya.
"As soon as you feel it is safe," she said. "If the drop is also under observation, forget it. I presume you are aware of the priority of this new assignment?"
"Yes," said Napoleon noncommittally. "But I'd guess if he was being followed they'd be suspicious enough of him that his usefulness would be in question anyway."
"Not necessarily," said Illya. "According to all reports, he's been doing a good job inside Thrush; they might just have a standard security team on him. They keep track of everyone as a matter of policy. But any attempt to contact him would not only blow his entire scene and his invaluable position, it would mean his life. Remember, Harry himself is not really aware of what he's doing – is he, Dr. Grayson?"
"Not on all levels, no. He shouldn't notice a few oddities and blank spaces and inconsistencies – remember what I said about the human mind's capacity for self justification. He may only feel vaguely that something is wrong, somewhere…"
Harry had the vague feeling that something was very wrong somewhere. He'd given in to some questionable impulses in the past, but nothing as foolish as this. He'd resisted the thought for days – yet every time he passed the Physics Lab storage room he remembered his one glimpse of that exquisite gleaming cylinder resting in red velvet, its perfect mirror-bright surface catching every light in the lab. Such a beautiful thing! It had caught his eye as he stood at the next table, and as he recognized it he had felt a surge of sudden desire such as a lesser man might feel for a woman. That slim glistening rod snagged his thoughts like a loop of flypaper.
He only intended to sneak into the locked storeroom and find the flat black case so he could see the gamma laser again, to compare its divine reality with the image he carried in his mind, but it was late afternoon before the opportunity presented itself. Operations closed down at five, and the Research section was deserted by 5:15. As staff copyist he was presumably free to check out when his work was done.
But when he opened the little case and actually saw it close up and felt its weight in his hand he started thinking. This was one of four spare units, besides one' with the KBG; it wasn't as if it had to be right here and ready on a moment's notice, so just borrowing it overnight wouldn't even be treasonable – he certainly wouldn't do anything against the interests of Thrush, insofar' as he understood them. It would be as easy to sneak it back in as to sneak it out – and then he could take it home, and sit down with all the blinds drawn and take all the time he would need to look at this impossibly perfect, beautiful thing.
It slipped neatly into his pocket and didn't even bulge. His heart beat a little faster as he checked out, nodded to the guard and took the elevator to the surface, where he emerged into the golden horizontal light of the setting sun. His shadow marched beside Him as he walked south a block, then turned east.
He didn't break stride or hurry at all until he got home. The case seemed to get heavier every minute for the last block, and he began to imagine someone coming after him. At last he closed the door behind him and set the lock. His flat only had a microphone planted; he wasn't.important enough to rate a camera. Even at his level, the company bugs were common knowledge; he knew where his was and didn't particularly care.
Without even looking into his pocket again, he hung his coat over the back of a chair in the living room and went to. mix himself a good stiff drink. He turned the radio to KSFO and started to sort through the day's mail.
Like a child with a new toy, tantalising himself, he filed his gas bill and glanced through the latest ANALOG before starting his dinner. While it was heating he suddenly thought of Sirrocco. It'd be nice to have her over later this evening – though of course he couldn't tell her exactly why he felt so good. He picked up the telephone impulsively and dialled.
Even as he, finished dialling he wondered if he should invite her over. After all, she might become curious or he might drop a hint accidentally. The phone clicked and the connection was made. If she answered, he'd have to explain why he was calling… The first ringing signal vibrated in his ear for two seconds, and in sudden decision he dropped his forefinger on the button and replaced the receiver. No, she shouldn't be brought over here while he had the gamma laser in his possession. The gamma laser…
The shades were drawn and the lights down, the FM supplying background music for the company bug – he turned the Tensor lamp on his desk to focus in the middle and went to his jacket.
The case was there, not quite small enough to fit between his hands. He didn't open it, but carried it like a baby to the desk and set it in the center. Then he turned on the lamp and squinted against the concentrated light before bending close and opening the catch.