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CHAPTER 6
THE VIVARIUM
AT DAWN the graded peak of Mount Lookitthat swam beneath a sea of fog. For those few who were already abroad, the sky merely turned from black to gray. This was not the poison mist below the void edge but a continuous cloud of water vapor, thick enough to let a blind man win a shooting match. Crew and colonists, one and all, as they stepped outside their homes, their homes vanished behind them. They walked and worked in a universe ten yards in diameter.
At seven o'clock Implementation police moved into the trapped forest, a squad at each end. Yellow fog lights swept the tongue of forest from the nearest sections of wall. The light barely reached the trees. Since the men who had been on watch that night had gone home, the searchers had no idea what animal they were searching for. Some thought it must be colonists.
At nine they met in the middle, shrugged it each other and left. Nothing human or animal lived in the trapped woods, nothing bigger than a big insect. Four aircars nevertheless rose into the fog and sprayed the wood from end to end.
At nine-thirty ...
Jesus Pietro cut the grapefruit in half and held one half upside down. The grapefruit meat dropped in sections into his bowl. He asked, "Did they ever find that rabbit?"
Major Jansen stopped with his first sip of coffee halfway to his lips. "No, sir, but they did find a prisoner."
"In the woods?"
"No, sir. He was pounding on the gate with a rock. The gate man took him inside the Hospital, but from there it becomes a little unclear--'
"Jansen, it's already unclear. What was this man doing pounding on the gate?" A horrible thought struck him. "Was he a crew?"
"No, sir. He was Matthew Keller. Positive identification."
Grapefruit juice spilled on the breakfast rack. "Keller?"
"The same."
"Then who was in the car?"
"I doubt we'll ever know, sir. Shall I ask for volunteers to examine the body?"
Jesus Pietro laughed long and loud. Jansen was pure colonist, though he and his ancestors had been in service so long that their accents and ma
"I've been trying to think of a way to shake up Implementation," said Jesus Pietro. "That might do it. Well. Keller came up to the gate and began pounding on it with a rock?"
"Yes, sir. The gateman took him in charge after calling Watts. Watts waited half an hour before he called the gatehouse again. The gateman couldn't remember what happened after he and the prisoner reached the Hospital. He was back on duty, and he couldn't explain that either. He should have reported to Watts, of course. Watts put him under arrest."
"Watts shouldn't have waited half an hour. Where was Keller all this time?"
"A Corporal Fox found him outside the door to the organ banks, shot him, and carted him off to the vivarium."
"Then he and the gateman are both waiting for us. Good. I'll never sleep again until I get this straightened out." Jesus Pietro finished his breakfast in a remarkable hurry.
Then it occurred to him that the mystery was deeper than that. How had Keller reached Alpha Plateau at all? The guards wouldn't have let him past the bridge.
By car? But the only car involved ...
Hobart was scared. He was as frightened as any suspect Jesus Pietro had seen, and he took no interest in hiding it.
"I don't know! I took him through the door, the big door. made him walk ahead so he couldn't jump me-"
"And did he?"
"I can't remember anything like that."
"A bump on the head might have given you amnesia. Sit still." Jesus Pietro walked around the chair to examine Hobart's scalp. His impersonal gentleness was frightening in itself. "No bumps, no bruises. Does your head hurt?"
"I feel fine."
"Now, you walked in the door. Were you talking to him?"
The man bobbed his graying head. "Uh huh. I wanted know what he was doing banging on the gate. He wouldn't say."
"And then?"
"All of a sudden I--" Hobart stopped, swallowed con-
vulsively.
Jesus Pietro put an edge in his voice. "Go on."
Hobart started to cry.
"Stop that. You started to say something. What was
"All of a sudden I-gulp-remembered I was s'posed t'be at the gate--"
"But what about Keller?"
"Who?"
"What about your prisoner?"
"I can't remember!"
"Oh, get out of here." Jesus Pietro thumbed a button.
"Take him back to the vivarium. Get me Keller."
Up a flight of stairs, take a right then a left ...
VIVARIUM. Behind the big door were rows of contour couches, skimpily padded. All but two couches had occupants. There were ninety-eight prisoners here, of all ages from fifteen to fifty-eight, and all were asleep. Each was wearing, a headset. They slept quietly, more quietly than the usual sleeper, breathing shallowly, their peaceful expressions untroubled by bad dreams. It was a strangely restful place. They slept in rows of ten, some snoring gently, the rest silent.
Even the guard looked sleepy. He sat in a more conventional chair to one side of the door, with his double chin drooping on his chest, his arms folded in his lap.
More than four centuries ago, at some time near the middle of the nineteen hundreds, a group of Russian scientists came up with a gadget that might have made sleep obsolete. In some places it did. By the twenty-fourth century it was a rare corner of the known universe that did not know of the sleepmaker.
Take three electrodes, light electrodes. Now pick a guinea pig, human, and get him to lie down with his eyes closed. Put two electrodes on his eyelids, and tape the third to the nape of his neck. Run a gentle, rhythmic electric current from eyelids to nape, through the brain. Your guinea pig will drop off immediately. Turn the current off in a couple of hours, and he will have had the equivalent of eight hours' sleep.
You'd rather not turn off the current? Fine. It won't hurt him. He'll just go on sleeping. He'll sleep through a hurricane. You'll have to wake him occasionally to eat, drink, evacuate, exercise. If you don't plan to keep him long, you can skip the exercise.
Suspects weren't kept long in the vivarium.
Heavy footsteps sounded outside the door. The vivarium guard jerked alert. When the door opened, he was at attention.
"Sit down there," said one of Hobart's escorts. Hobart sat. Tears had streaked his sunken cheeks. He do
The vivarium guard consulted a chart. "Ninety-eight."
"Okay." Instead of taking off Keller's headset, the man moved to a panel of one hundred buttons. He pushed number ninety-eight. As Keller began to stir, they both moved in to attach handcuffs. Then they lifted the headset.
Matt Keller's eyes opened.
His new escorts lifted him to his feet with a practiced motion. "On our way," one said cheerfully. Bewildered, Matt followed the pull on his arms. In a moment they were in the hall. Matt snatched one look behind him before the door closed.