The Simulacra

‘Yes, Mrs Thibodeaux,' Garth said, with gloom.

‘And don't take it so hard,' Nicole said. ‘If the Karps do go ahead and release the Geheimnis, we'll still survive -- I think you're wrong: it won't mean the end of our status quo at all.'

Garth said, ‘Mrs Thibodeaux, if the Karps release this information, no matter how the Bes react, there can never be another der Alte. And legally speaking, you hold your position of authority only because you're the wife. It's hard to keep that in mind, because -- ‘ Garth hesitated.

‘Say it,' Nicole said.

‘Because it's clear to everyone, Bes and Ges alike, that you are the ultimate authority in the establishment. And it's essential to maintain the myth that somehow, indirectly at least, you were placed here by the people, by mass public vote.'

There was silence.

Pembroke said finally, ‘Perhaps the NP should move in on the Karps before they can put out their white paper. Thereby we'd cut them off from the organs of communication.'

‘Even under arrest,' Nicole said, ‘the Karps would manage to gain access to at least one of the media. Better face that fact.'

‘But their reputation, if they're under arrest -- ‘

‘The only solution,' Nicole said thoughtfully, half to herself, ‘would be to assassinate those officers of the Werke who attended the policy meeting. In other words, all the Ges of the cartel, no matter how many there are. Even if the numbers ran up into the hundreds.' In other words, she said to herself, a purge. Such as one generally only witnessed in times of revolution.

She shrank from the idea.

‘Nacht und Nebel,'

Pembroke murmured.

‘What?' Nicole said.

‘The Nazi term for the invisible agents of the government who deal in murder.' He faced Nicole calmly. ‘Night and fog. They were the Einsatzgruppen. Monsters. Of course our police, the NP has nothing like that. I'm sorry; you'll have to act through the military. Not through us.'

‘I was joking,' Nicole said.

Both men studied her.

‘There are no more purges,' Nicole said. ‘There haven't been any since World War Three. You know that. We're too modern, too civilized, for massacres now.'

Pembroke, frowning, his lips twitching nervously, said, ‘Mrs Thibodeaux, when the technicians from the von Lessinger Institute bring Goering to our period, perhaps you can arrange for an Einsatzgruppe to be brought, too. It could assume responsibility vis-à-vis the Karps and then return to the Age of Barbarism.'

She stared at him open-mouthed.

‘I'm serious,' Pembroke said, stammering slightly. ‘It certainly would be better -- for us at least -- than allowing the Karps to make public the information they possess. That's the worst alternative of all.'

‘I agree,' Garth McRae said.

‘It's insane,' Nicole said.

Garth McRae said, ‘Is it? Through von Lessinger's principle we have access to trained assassins, and, as you pointed out, in our era no such professionals exist. I doubt if it would mean the destruction of scores or hundreds of individuals. I'd guess it could be limited to the board of directors, the executive vice-presidents of the Werke. Possibly as few as eight men.'

‘And,' Pembroke pointed out eagerly, ‘these eight men, these top officers at Karp, are de facto criminals; they've deliberately met and conspired against the legal government. They're on a par with the Sons of Job. With that Bertold Goltz. Even though they wear black bow ties every evening and drink vintage wine and don't squabble in the gutters and streets.'

‘May I say,' Nicole said drily, ‘that all of us are de facto criminals. Because this government -- as you pointed out is based on a fraud. And of the most primary magnitude.'

‘But it's the legal government,' Garth said. ‘Fraud or not. And the so-called "fraud" is in the best interests of the people. We're not doing it to exploit anyone -- as the cartel system does. We're not out to engorge ourselves at somebody else's expense.'

At least, Nicole thought, that's what we tell ourselves.

Pembroke said respectfully, ‘Having talked just now to the Attorney General I know how he feels about the rising power of the cartels. Epstein feels they must be cut down. It's essential!'

‘Perhaps,' Nicole said, ‘you have a trifle too much respect for the cartels. I don't. And -- perhaps we should wait a day or so until Herma

Now the two men were staring at her open-mouthed.

‘I'm not serious,' she said. Or was she? She did not know, herself. ‘After all,' she said, ‘Goering founded the Gestapo."

‘I could never approve of that,' Pembroke said, with hauteur.

‘But you don't make policy,' Nicole said to him. ‘Technically, Rudi does. That is, I do. I can compel you to act on my behalf in this matter. And you'd do it ... unless, of course, you'd prefer to join the Sons of Job and march up and down the streets throwing rocks and chanting.'

Both Garth McRae and Pembroke looked uneasy. And acutely unhappy.

‘Don't be frightened,' Nicole said. ‘Do you know what the true basis of political power is? Not guns or troops but the ability to get others to do what you want them to do. By whatever means are appropriate. I know I can get the NP to do what I want -- despite what you personally feel. I can get Herma

‘I hope,' Pembroke said presently, ‘that you're right, that you will be able to handle Goering. I admit that on a strictly subjective level I'm frightened, frightened of this entire experiment with the past. You may open the floodgates. Goering is not a clown.'

‘I'm well aware of that,' Nicole said. ‘And don't presume to give me advice, Mr Pembroke. It's not your place.'

Pembroke flushed, was silent a moment and then said in a low voice, ‘Sorry. Now, if it's all right with you, Mrs Thibodeaux, I'd like to bring up one other matter. It has to do with the sole remaining psychoanalyst now practising in the USEA. Dr Egon Superb. In explanation of the NP's reason for allowing him to -- ‘

‘I don't want to hear about it,' Nicole said. ‘I just want you to do your job. As you must know, I never did approve of the McPhearson Act in the first place. So you can hardly expect me to object when it is not fully applied.'

‘The patient in question -- ‘

‘Please,' she said sharply.

Pembroke, his face impassive and set, shrugged in obedience.

8

As they started into the auditorium on floor one of The Abraham Lincoln, Ian Duncan saw, trailing along behind Al Miller, the flat, scuttling shape of the Martian creature, the papoola. He stopped short. ‘You're bringing that along?'

Al said, ‘You don't understand. Don't we have to win?'

After a pause, Ian said, ‘Not that way.' He understood all right; the papoola would take on the audience as it had taken on passers-by. It would exert its extrasensory influence on them, coaxing out a favourable decision. So much for the ethics of a jalopy salesman, Ian realized. To Al, this seemed perfectly normal; if they couldn't win by their jug-playing they would win through the papoola.

‘Aw,' Al said, gesturing, ‘don't be our own worst enemy. All we're engaged in here is a little subliminal sales technique, such as they've been using for a century -- it's an ancient, reputable method of swinging public opinion your away. I mean, let's face it; we haven't played the jug professionally in years.' He touched the controls at his waist and the papoola hurried forward to catch up with them.

Again Al touched the controls. And in Ian's mind a persuasive thought came, Why not? Everyone else does it.