“Roommate file.”
One of the screens showed a photograph of LUH, with her record superimposed over it.
The psychologist glanced at the white lettering and symbols, then concentrated on her picture.
With a slow-grin, he thought, I can hardly blame him. If I were going to kill myself, that’s as good a way to do it as any.
He reached into a pocket and took out two more pills, swallowing them without water. With his other hand, he flicked the switch that would send THX’s interview to Control’s attention.
Chapter 7
Tense, jaws aching and insides fluttering, THX entered the preparation chamber. He stripped slowly, let the cleansing fog settle over him. It felt warm and safe and good. From the speakers overhead, the preparatory ritual was being recited:
“This is a reminder of the precision which must be taken at this stage. Three operating cells have already been destroyed in this series. Mercicontrol is supervising all operations during this phase. Prevent accidents and be happy… This is a reminder of…” The fog evaporated, leaving his skin feeling chill and prickly. THX dressed quickly, but with careful attention to all the rituals of detail. Right sleeve first, right slipper first.
He was sitting on the bench, adjusting his cap’s chin strap, when SEN entered.
“What are you doing here?” THX snapped, shaken. “You’re not cleared for this area.”
SEN smiled conspiratorially. “You know I have a way with the computers. I can clear myself for any area… almost…”
“I’ll report you. It’s…”
“Listen to me,” SEN said, untroubled. “You have no need to distrust me. We’re going…”
“Get out of here. Leave me alone. You’re interrupting codified ritual!”
“I’ll only be a moment,” SEN said easily. “I wanted to tell you that I’ve taken care of LUH.”
The skullcap slipped out of THX’s hands. “Wh… what?”
“I’ve programmed her to level 5450. Her transfer should go through by the next series. You’re going to need a new roommate.”
The shift buzzer sounded. Automatically, like a chrome mannequin, THX stood up. Without a word, he headed for the assembly bay, leaving SEN standing in the preparation chamber alone.
Woodenly, THX headed for the assembly bay, walking slowly down the brightly lit corridor that linked it with the preparation chamber.
“Uniform check,” said a voice from an overhead speaker. “Cap missing, 1138. Cannot be allowed into assembly bay area without a cap.”
He blinked, shuffled to a stop, turned back toward the preparation chamber. If he’s still there, he found himself thinking,I’l/ kill him. I’ll put my hands around his throat and squeeze the life out of him. THX could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he slid the door to the preparation chamber open.
But SEN had left. The cap was still on the floor where he had dropped it. Contaminated now. THX took a new one from the issue drawer, adjusted it and started back toward the assembly bay.
“Hurry it up, 1138,” a different voice carped. “The shift’s waiting.”
He passed a report box and stopped. With trembling hands he took out a red punch card marked PERSONAL VIOLATION REPORT. With the stylus attached to the box he punched out SEN 5241. He traced the stylus down the many categories listed on the card until he came to Illegal Programming. With a violence born of anger, he punched that slot through, then jammed the card into the acceptor slot in the box.
Now he smiled as he headed for the assembly bay. A grim, tight smile of hatred.
It was incredibly difficult. THX stood in front of the leaded window and worked the manipulators as carefully as he could, while a thousand voices chattered incessantly in his earphones. He tried to concentrate on the half-assembled chrome-mannequin laying inside the assembly cell, but the flashing lights from his computer readout pried at his attention, the monitor viewscreen flickered at him, gages and dials all demanded his eyes.
The supervisor cut in on the background chatter: “Retract 1138. SB4 talmod contact… retract to 220.”
Eyes stinging with sweat, THX tried to follow the supervisor’s orders. If they’d only leave me alone and let me concentrate… I could do it if they’d let me work alone.
Control sat in his sculptured chair, stamping punch-cards with his personal stylus. The communicator buzzed. He flicked a lean finger at the actuator.
The whole-wall viewscreen glowed to life. An observer sitting at his horseshoe of monitoring screens reported:
“We are receiving an extreme respiratory count from a Magnum Manipulator in assembly cell 94107. Erratic visual behavior as well.”
Control’s eyes narrowed as he watched the scene on the observer’s main screen. “Data file,” he murmured.
Instantly, the other screens around the observer flashed THX’s file: ID photos, vital statistics, present physical status.
There was something familiar about this one, Control thought. Then when he saw the listing under roommate he had it: LUH 3417, natural-born. Yes, he knew the man now.
The observer said, “THX 1138 filed a violation report on SEN 5241 immediately prior to his shift.”
“Violation type?” Control asked.
“Illegal programming.”
“Check into it. Stay with him. I’ll return to you momentarily.”
“Yessir.”
Control’s long fingers played with his desktop keyboard. The observer disappeared from the huge viewscreen, to be replaced by tapes of THX and LUH in their quarters.
Control leaned back in his soft comfortable chair and watched them playing, making love.
“Yes,” he murmured to himself. “They did fall.”
He did things to the keyboard again and the observer returned to the screen.
“Inform the supervisor of Magnum Manipulator 94107 of procedure to mindlock and make an arrest. Order mindlock for cell 94107; subject 1138 prefix THX.”
The observer nodded obediently.
Every pore in THX’s body was oozing sweat as he hunched forward, feet planted hard on the floor, hands locked inside the manipulators. He was squinting, frowning, ignoring the babble in his earphones, tunneling his vision to see only the mannequin inside the cell and the gleaming tiny cylinders of radioactives that had to be loaded carefully, so carefully, into the mannequin’s power pile.
No slips now, he commanded himself. Nearly critical. You can do it. You are doing it.
He heard LUH’s voice telling him, “You can live without sedation. You can. I know you can.”
And then he realized that the babble of voices in his earphones was about him.
“Current brainwave confirmation on 1138. Adrenal off point seven-four, plus or minus six. Confirm sedation depletion—analyze severe.”
“Control requests mindlock for operating cell 94107; subject 1138 prefix THX.”
“Magnum supervisor 94107 requests priority shift. Repeat—priority shift. Situation in cell 94107 not conducive to mindlock procedure. Subject 1138 is involved in critical maneuver.”
THX hung in space. His hands froze in the manipulators. A deadly shining cylinder hovered above the mannequin’s inert body as the metal waldo hands froze in mid-maneuver.
Suddenly a blaring voice screamed shatteringly in his earphones:
“MAGNUM MANIPULATOR 1138 PREFIX THX, OPERATING CELL 94107, SUFFERING SEVERE DRUG VIOLATION. EXTENT PENDING. SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE ARREST. MINDLOCK PENDING. MINDLOCK PENDING.”
The supervisor’s voice was frantically shouting back, “Priority shift. Repeat, priority shift! The situation here is dangerous! 1138’s involved in a critical mass maneuver. Delay mindlock, delay mindlock… situation red; repeat, situation red. Hold, hold, HOLD…”