Vulcan's Hammer

"He escaped," Taubma

"Two months there, and no treatments?"

"He was ill," Taubma

"Did you know Pitt?"

"A little. Nice, rather naive young fellow. Devoted to his job. Family man. Applied for field duty because he wanted the extra monthly bonus. Made it possible for his wife to furnish her living room with Early New England oak furniture." Taubma

"Too bad the police showed up late," Barris said. "Al­ways a few minutes late." He studied Taubma

Taubma

"If you get Father Fields, send him in to me. I want to examine him personally."

Taubma

"What do you know about this?" Barris demanded. "You seem familiar with him-almost on a personal basis."

Without the slightest loss of composure, Taubma

"Do you think it's the same man that Pitt saw slightly before his death?" Barris said. "The man who was organiz­ing that mob?"

"Don't ask me," Taubma

"You know that Vulcan 3 has given no statement in over fifteen months," Barris said.

"Maybe it doesn't know what to say." Taubma

"What are they really after?" Barris interrupted.

"They want to smash Vulcan 3. They want to strew its parts over the countryside. All this today, Pitt's death, the rest--they're trying to reach Vulcan 3."

"Pitt managed to burn his papers?"

"I suppose. We found nothing, no remains of him or any of his equipment." The door closed.

After he had waited a careful few minutes, Barris walked to the door, opened it and peered out to be sure that Taubma

He thought, It's this sort of reasoning that's made us into the thing we are. The paranoid suspicions of one an­other. Unity, he thought with irony. Some unity, with each of us eying the other, watching for any mistake, any sign. Naturally Taubma

And yet-the man's motives. He's in this for himself, Barris thought grimly. But what about mine? What are my motives, that lead me to suspect him?

After all, Jason Dill is getting along in years, and it will be one of us who will replace him. And if I could pin something on Taubma

So maybe my own skirts aren't so clean, Barris thought. I can't trust myself because I'm not disinterested-none of us are, in the whole Unity structure. Better not yield to my suspicions then, since I can't be sure of my motives.

Once more he contacted the local monitor. "Yes, sir," she said. "Your call to Atlanta-"

"I want that canceled," he said curtly. "Instead-" He took a deep breath. "Give me Unity Control at Geneva."

While the call was put through-it had to be cleared through an assortment of desks along the thousands of miles of cha

The vidphone clicked. "Unity Control, sir."

"This is North American Director Barris." In a steady voice he said, "I wish to put through an emergency request to Vulcan 3."

A pause and then, "Any first-order data to offer?" The screen was blank; he got only the voice, and it was so bland, so impersonal, that he could not recognize the per­son. Some functionary, no doubt. A nameless cog.

"Nothing not already filed." His answer came with heavy reluctance. The functionary, nameless or not, knew the right questions; he was skilled at his job.

"Then," the voice said, "you'll have to put through your request in the usual fashion." The rustling of sheets of paper. "The delay period," the voice continued, "is now three days."

In a light, bantering voice, Barris said, "What's Vulcan 3 doing these day? Working out chess openings?" Such a quip had to be made in a bantering ma

"I'm sorry, Mr. Barris. The time lag can't be cut even for Director-level perso

Barris started to ring off. And then, plunging all the way into it, he said in a brisk, authoritative tone, "Let me talk to Jason Dill, then."

"Managing Director Dill is in conference." The func­tionary was not impressed, nor disturbed. "He can't be bothered in matters of routine."

With a savage swipe of his hand, Barris cut the circuit. The screen died. Three days! The eternal bureaucracy of the monster organization. They had him; they really knew how to delay.

He reflectively picked up his coffee cup and sipped it. The cold, bitter stuff choked him and he poured it out; the pot refilled the cup at once with fresh coffee.

Didn't Vulcan 3 give a damn? Maybe it wasn't con­cerned with the world-wide Movement that was out-as Taubma

But it wasn't Vulcan 3, of course; it was the organiza­tion. From the vacant-eyed little secretaries off on their coffee breaks, all the way up through the managers to the Directors, the repairment who kept Vulcan 3 going, the statisticians who collected data. And Jason Dill.

Was Dill deliberately isolating the other Directors, cut­ting them off from Vulcan 3? Perhaps Vulcan 3 had re­sponded and the information had been withheld.

I'm suspecting even him, Barris thought. My own supe­rior. The highest official in Unity. I must be breaking down under the strain; that's really insane.

I need a rest, he thought wildly. Pitt's death has done it; I feel somehow responsible, because after all I'm safe here, safe at this desk, while eager youngsters like that go out in the country, out where it's dangerous. They get it, if some­thing goes wrong. Taubma