In the foyer: two Recruiters, very big and dangerous-looking, both wearing shock-watches. Behind them: thick metal door, three manual locks in addition to an electronic keypad, one of the locks a combination. Air ducts: too small for Constance to fit through, even if greased. Ceiling: inaccessible. Windows: none.
No windows, Kate thought, and no hope for entry. She couldn’t even get to the room outside the computer room, much less into the computer room itself. It was hard to resist a sigh. She’d had grand visions of sabotaging the Whisperer, destroying its computers all by herself. Ripping out cables, crushing components, stealing mysterious gizmos that could not be replaced. Not only would she be regarded as a hero, she would prove once and for all that she could do everything alone — that she needed no one’s help. But now she saw she could do no such thing. Not this time.
Kate stiffened. In her disappointment she had let her mind wander, and only now became aware that one of the Recruiters was peering into the darkness in her direction.
“McCraig,” the Recruiter said to his partner, “do you see something odd behind the vent there?”
McCraig pulled out a flashlight. Nothing behind the vent. “Probably a mouse.”
“A talking mouse?”
“That’s not coming from the vent, you idiot. That’s the Executives coming up the steps. Got a new one taking the tour tonight, remember?”
Kate, who had pulled back just in time, also heard the voices. They were just on the other side of the wall.
“— part of your training,” S.Q. was saying, his voice growing louder. “After I show you the ropes up here, you and I meet with Mr. Curtain so he can explain some things to you.”
“Yes, you’ve already said that,” said a testy voice. Martina Crowe. “But why are you coming to the meeting? You’ve been an Executive for almost a year now.”
“Well, you probably haven’t noticed,” S.Q. said, “but I’m a little slow on the pick-up. Mr. Curtain sometimes has me sit in on these tutorials, to refresh my memory about certain things.”
Kate heard a derisive snort, then Jackson’s voice saying, “Hold on, you two.” She leaned and peeked through the vent again, but couldn’t see him. The entrance from the tower steps was out of view.
“McCraig,” she heard Jackson say to the Recruiter. “Everything fine up here? Nothing unusual going on tonight?”
“I’m telling you, Jackson,” said S.Q.’s voice, “it was probably a mouse.”
“We got mice, too,” said McCraig. “Other than that all’s fine.”
“Jackson takes his guard duty very seriously,” S.Q. said knowingly.
“Hey, it’s Mr. Curtain who wants security stepped up,” Jackson snapped. “You got a problem with Mr. Curtain, S.Q.?”
“Of course not! I was just saying . . .”
Kate didn’t hear the rest. She was already easing her way down the elevator shaft again. She needed to beat Jackson back down so she could slip out. And then? What was this about a meeting with Mr. Curtain? Maybe the night didn’t have to be an entire loss. The trouble would be finding a way to eavesdrop on his office. Too risky going into the Institute Control Building. But maybe she could find another way.
“And so you see, Martina,” Mr. Curtain said, rolling out from behind his desk, “after the Improvement most people will be much happier.”
“But not all,” said S.Q. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Curtain?”
“Quite right, S.Q. Unfortunately, there are some people whose natures incline them to be sad when others are happy.”
Martina was smiling. “May I assume,” she said in a sly tone, “that these poor souls would not only be unhappy — which certainly is tragic enough — but might also . . . cause trouble? Am I right that brainsweeping will not only help them feel better, it will make them more manageable?”
“You understand perfectly,” said Mr. Curtain with an approving look. “And S.Q., I believe that explanation should satisfy you, as well.”
If the explanation had not satisfied S.Q., it had nonetheless created in him the strong impression that he ought to be satisfied, and so he laughed and said, “I see, yes. Of course.”
Martina leaned forward in her chair. “One thing I’m still unclear on, though, is how brainsweeping works. It doesn’t actually erase the memories?”
“Not at all,” Mr. Curtain said. “Anyone who knows anything about the human mind understands that it never truly forgets anything. To completely erase memories is impossible. What is possible, however, is hiding memories from their owners. To use my favorite comparison, we sweep the old memories under a mental rug — hence the word ‘brainsweeping’ — and there they remain hidden away, with no one the wiser.”
“And everyone happier,” S.Q. said.
“Yes, S.Q.,” said Mr. Curtain with a significant look at Martina. She was a brand new Executive, but already understood far more than S.Q. ever would. “Yes, my friend. Everyone’s happier.”
“Isn’t it amazing?” S.Q. said to Martina. “I get goose bumps every time I learn it.”
“It is much the same with fears, you know,” Mr. Curtain said. “S.Q., do you believe you have it down now? Would you like to explain to Martina how the Whisperer deals with fears?”
“Oh, yes, of course I would,” said S.Q., reddening. “That is, I would, but, um —”
“But you’ve forgotten?” Mr. Curtain snapped, flashing a sneaky half-grin at Martina. (Apparently he took pleasure in toying with S.Q., which no doubt explained why Mr. Curtain hadn’t booted him off the island years ago.)
“Forgotten? Oh, no!” S.Q. cried in dismay. “No, I wouldn’t say I’ve forgotten — you know, nothing is ever truly forgotten, you said so yourself, sir, ha ha —” He coughed. “It’s just that, uh, you’re so much more elegant than I am.”
“I daresay that’s true. Perhaps you also find me more eloquent than you. Very well, S.Q., I shall explain it, and you may nod along as always.”
S.Q. nodded.
Mr. Curtain turned to Martina. “You recall how your fears seem to disappear when you’re seated in the Whisperer, do you not?”
Martina’s expression sharpened with hunger. “Absolutely,” she breathed.
S.Q. nodded.
“Of course you do. Again, the magic is in the messages. My Whisperer rewards your cooperation by sending extremely high-power messages that deny your fears. A simple procedure. Fears lurk just beneath the surface and are easy to detect.”
S.Q. nodded.
“So it’s just a wonderful illusion!” Martina said. “That explains why the fears come back later. I’ve always wondered about that — when I’m in the Whisperer they seem to have gone away forever.”
Mr. Curtain laughed. “Sadly, no. The only way fears truly disappear is if you confront them. But who in the world wishes to confront his or her worst fears?”
“Not me!” Martina said.
S.Q., already beginning to nod, checked himself and shook his head.
“Nobody does,” said Mr. Curtain. “And now we are on the brink of offering the same peaceful contentment on a much grander scale. After the Improvement, you see, everyone’s greatest fear shall be drowned out by a message much like the ones you receive in the Whisperer. It will be grand!”
“I can’t wait!” S.Q. cried, unable to contain himself. “To think that so many people will be so happy!”