Dayworld

You'd be surprised how many I know, Caird thought. He continued the ritual by asking about the major's health and that of his wife, two children, and three grandchildren.

"Fine, couldn't be better."

Wallenquist paused. Caird had turned his head away until he was looking at the major from the corners of his eyes. He moved his head then to look directly into his eyes and received the full blast.

"I got a make-your-ears-prick-up case," the major said. "A daybrealcer! Ah, I thought so! That woke you up, heh?"

He punched Caird lightly on the arm. "I'll supervise, of course, but I'm letting you have all the fun. You're a damned good man, by God, and what's more, I like you!"

"Thanks," Caird said. "I ... get along fine with you, too."

"I know my people. If I do say so myself, I got a knack for bringing out the best in the best. You're a real bloodhound, Jeff."

Chapter 4

The major got off the desk, much to Caird's relief, went behind it, sat down, and activated a wall strip behind and to one side of him. Wallenquist spun his chair to look at it.

"This isn't any run-of-the-mill daybreaker."

Three views of a clothed adult male from head to toes and at different angles appeared. Below these came three views of the same man unclothed. The two stared, fascinated, at the circumcised organ. Caird had never seen one in the flesh and had viewed few photographs of them. It was exotic but ugly and Old Stone Ageish.

The head and shoulders, full-face, of the same subject followed. His red hair was long, and he wore a green skullcap. The bushy red beard underlined a strong broad face with small green eyes, a broad and short nose with flaring nostrils, and very thin lips.

YANKEV GAD GRIL

MONDAY SENIOR

His code-identification flashed. It moved up and was succeeded by codes of his earprints, eyeprints, fingerprints, footprints, voiceprints, normal skin-odorprints, bloodtype, skull and skeleton X-ray and sonograms, brain topography and waveprints, hormone balance, kiair and blood and genetic prints, exterior dimensions, intelligence quotient, psychic quotient, social quotient, and gait classification.

Wallenquist told the strip to roll the file more slowly. After a few seconds, Caird said, "Hold it! Allergic to shellfish? Orthodox Jews don't cat shellfish!"

"Aba!" the major said, his tone indicating that he had just seen a great light. "This Jew does! Did, I mean. Just once. See he got dizzy and broke out in hives. See there. He said it was a judgment of God on him!"

"Nobody's perfect," Caird said.

"Ah, but, by God, humankind will be perfect!"

Yes, Caird thought. Next year we meet in Jerusalem. The second coming of Christ occurs any moment now. The proletariat will govern, and the state will eventually wither away.

"As you can see," Wallenquist said, "he seemed to be an exemplary citizen, aside from being religious. Then, poof!" Wallenquist threw his hands up. "Houdinied! Didn't come out of his stoner yesterday. His colleagues at Yeshiva investigated, of course-he has no family-and his stoner was empty. No messages, nothing to indicate what had happened."

Wallenquist bent down close to Caird. "That means that he's in Tuesday. Right now!"

Caird got up from the chair and began pacing back and forth. "Yankev Gril," he said. "I know the man."

"You know him? But ..

"You didn't read all the file. He played chess with other days via recordings. I was one of his opponents. I knew his name only, and, of course, this is the first time I've seen him. But I'm the champion chessplayer of Manhattan; I got seventh place in the Tuesday World Champion Matches and twelfth in the AllDays matches. Gril was eleventh in the All-Days."

"Really?" Wallenquist said. "I don't go for the game myself.

When I think that you could go fishing instead ... Anyway, I'm proud of you because you're a champion, even if it's just in chess. The whole department's proud of you."

He came up close to Caird, but Caird wheeled and walked away. When he was as far away from the major as he could get, he turned and stopped. "You're not thinking of giving me a temporal passport?"

Wallenquist approached him. "Oh, no. That's not necessary. Besides, it takes too much red tape to get one. Since you know something about him, have played chess with him, you're the one who should chase him today. Devote most of your time to his case."

"Well, either he's just moved to this day or he's breaking all the days. Why? Find the motive, find the man."

"Excellent," the major said, rubbing his hands together. "I know how to pick them."

Caird slipped by Wallenquist, who had come nose to nose. "Can I get permission to voice-interview his Monday colleagues?"

"I'll put in an application, but it'll take some time to get a yes or a no."

"Application" reminded Caird of Ozma's demand.

"I'll get right on it, Major," he said, heading for the door. "Unless you've got something else for me."

"Damn it, man, I don't like talking to the back of your head!"

Caird stopped, turned, and smiled. "Sorry, Major. Overeager, I guess."

"Quite all right, my boy. Always happy to see my men full of zeal. Not too much of that nowadays."

"Anything else, sir?"

Wallenquist waved his hand. "Just keep me informed. Oh, yes, I saw on your schedule ... you're lunching with the commissioner-general?"

Envy? Indignation?

"Yes, sir. The commissioner and I grew up. together in the same neighborhood, went to the same schools. We like to get together now and then to talk about old times. Besides, we're related. My first wife was her cousin."

"Oh, well. I wasn't prying."

The major looked at two strips that had lit up at the same time. "Busy, busy. Run along. Have a good time at lunch. Be sure to give my best regards to the commissioner. Only, report on what you've found out about Gril-what the hell kind of a name is that, anyway?-report before lunch."

Jeff gave the major a salute, which wasn't noticed. Wallenquist was looking back and forth at the strips, unable to decide which was the most important. Caird went back to his office and asked a strip for Gril's latest move.

The chessboard, sixty-four alternating green and red squares, eight horizontal lines of eight squares each, and the eight green and eight red pieces, appeared on the strip. The game had begun with Green, Yankev Gril, making the first move: 1 BLWC-4. That is, the first move took Green's World Councillor's Block Leader to the fourth vertical square from World Councillor's position. Red, Jeff Caird, had made his first move by putting his World Councillor's Block Leader to his World Councillor's Four square.

Green's second move was BL-WC SG. Or 03. That is, he had moved his Organic Officer to World Councillor's State Governor's third square out.

Caird remembered that, when he had made this move, he was thinking that an early twenty-first-century chessplayer would not have been puzzled long if he had been watching this game. He would have caught on quickly that the white and black squares had been changed to green and red. The Kings had become World Councillors; the Queens, Superorganic Directors; the Rooks, Intraorganic Coordinators; the Bishops,

State Governors; the Knights, Organic Officers; the Pawns, Block Leaders. If the hypothetical early chessplayer had any knowledge of present government setups, he would have surmised that the changes in the game were for political reasons and that they were superficial.

Caird studied the board for five minutes, though he was nagged by the feeling that he was neglecting duty for pleasure. Also, he could not keep from wondering where Gril had been when he had made his last move.

He told the strip to make a BL-WC or 04 move. He did not know if the refugee Gril would ever see the latest development. He hoped that he would. They were playing a dangerous but stimulating contest of simultaneous attack and defense. Both their World Councillors were open to, as a master had once put it, "flailing blows from all directions."