Clayne glanced at Travis. “Other than that first day when he lost his temper and nearly decked Travis? No. His behavior has been exemplary.”
The Major turned to Nicole. “How many times has he triggered the Punishment Mode from his wrist computer?”
Nicole pursed her lips as she scanned the computer printouts quickly. “Five. The worst was that day he started to attack Travis. Other than that, they’ve been relatively mild responses. Nothing unusual in any way. Two at night during dreams.”
“I’ve warned him,” Clayne said. “I told him if he triggers pain responses too often, he’ll start conditioning himself so heavily that he’ll lose his usefulness to us.”
“So what’s the bottom line, Clayne?” the Major pursued. “His behavior is above reproach. Does that mean we have really turned him, or is he just biding his time?”
Clayne traced circular patterns on his napkin for a long moment. “I have nothing to base it on except for a gut feeling, but no, I don’t think we have turned him. I don’t even think we’ve bought a serious glance in our direction as yet.”
“Exactly!” Nicole flashed. “It’s a game with him, a front. He’s laughing at us behind our backs, just waiting for a chance to make us look like fools.”
“Travis?” the Major said without looking up. “Do you agree with that?”
His dark eyebrows pulled together as Travis considered the question. “Yes and no.” He smiled at Nicole to soften his disagreement with her. “I think Nicole and Clayne are right in that he’s merely waiting. But I don’t think it’s a game with him. Whatever he’s up to, he’s deadly serious about it.”
“Absolutely,” Clayne agreed. “His Mister Innocent routine is a deliberate, calculated attempt to keep us all off balance. But he and his family are threatened. It’s a matter of survival now. What you said, Travis, is exactly right. He’s deadly serious about this whole thing.”
“Isn’t that just a bit overdramatic?” Nicole asked dubiously.
Clayne shrugged, and for a moment he hesitated. He liked Eric—very much, in fact, and he knew that his report could drastically alter what happened to him. But on the other hand, if they didn’t stop Eric soon, he was going to do something very foolish, and a Stage Three implantation would be the result.
“Well?” the Major probed, taking off his glasses to watch Clayne steadily. He seemed content for the moment to collect all the data from his staff before making a decision.
“I don’t think you fully understand how deeply this whole thing has affected him,” Clayne answered. “He’s far too shrewd to throw any more stools through the window. He realizes he made a serious mistake in getting himself implanted. It cut him off from the easiest way out of here.”
“Meaning going through the Outer Perimeter?” Nicole asked.
“Yes, so now he’s fighting with the only weapon we have left to him—his mind. So he treats each of us in exactly the right way to get the reaction he needs. It’s a carefully calculated strategy with him.” He turned to Nicole. “If he was gushy sweet to you, what would you think?”
She answered instantly. “That it was a snow job.”
“Exactly. So he needles at you constantly to keep you half angry, but not enough to bring you to the point where you say he’s beyond hope.”
Before Nicole could protest, he swung around to face Travis and the Major. “He knows I’m the second most important factor in determining what happens to him, but with me he’s the model trainee. And with you, Travis? How has he been?”
Travis leaned forward and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Since that first day, fine. Cool and reserved, but polite.”
“Do you think he’s forgiven you for betraying the village and getting his father killed?”
“Well, I suppose forgive is a little strong, but he does seem to have accepted it.”
“I rest my case,” Clayne said, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t think he’s accepted that for one minute, but each one of us gets exactly the response that serves his purposes best.”
“So what’s he waiting for?” the Major asked quietly.
“You’re the ones who keep using the term ‘biding his time,’” Clayne said. “Me, I don’t think he is waiting.”
“What do you mean by that?” the Major said, putting his glasses back on to peer more closely at Clayne.
“Remember this is just a hunch, a linebacker’s intuition, okay? I might be reading the play all wrong.”
“Go ahead.”
“Eric has had one goal, and one goal only, since the first day when he came out of sedation. He has never wavered in pursuit of that goal, and that is freedom for him and his family.”
“But,” Travis reminded him, “we are offering him that freedom, for him and his family.”
“Not freedom by his definition. He’s been stymied by the system, and that’s the only reason he hasn’t made his move. But…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“But what?” Nicole demanded.
“This is where my instincts come in, all right?” They nodded and he plunged on. “But now he’s worked it out. Just in the last week or so, he’s worked it out.”
“Worked what out?” Travis asked.
“His escape.”
He savored the look on their faces, his own expression one of benign satisfaction.
“Escape?” the Major said, for the first time looking skeptical. “How? How could he possibly escape?”
“That I don’t know,” Clayne admitted. “But he’s worked it out in his mind, that much I’m sure of. And he’s moving forward on it, whatever it is, as swiftly as he can. I’d bet my breakfast on that.”
“Then I believe you,” Nicole laughed. But almost instantly she was sober again. “If that’s true, then—”
“When did it turn?” the Major cut in. “Can you remember which day you first sensed the change?”
Clayne wrinkled his brow in thought. “Definitely by last Monday, maybe a day or so sooner. I wasn’t sure at first what it was, but that’s when it started.”
“All right,” the Major responded. “Clayne, I know you’ve been on shift all night, so you go home and get some rest. Travis, I want you and Nicole to go back two weeks. Make a careful analysis of his movements every minute since then. Cross-check every item that forms a pattern, every action that seems even the tiniest bit out of the ordinary. Use the computer to check anything that catches your eye.”
He stood up. “We’ll meet in my office at six tonight and decide then what to do about this difficult young man.”
Chapter 14
The office of the Major was a direct extension of himself, Nicole decided as she looked around. It was her first entry into the inner suite of offices that housed the chief executive officers of the Guardians, and she was a little awed by it. The rich, lustrous walnut paneling on two of the walls was so highly polished that she could see her own reflection in it. Bookshelves completely filled with books lined two of the walls clear to the ceiling, and they were arranged so that each shelf had books of the same height.
She glanced at her wrist computer. It was two minutes after six, which surprised her a little. The Major was renowned for being punctual almost to the second. She shrugged and turned to examine the desk, whose top gleamed like polished glass. The only things on the entire expanse were a gold desk set and a picture of the Major’s family—his wife, four children, their husbands and wives, and his twelve grandchildren. The twin pens of the desk set framed a small, gold plaque on which were engraved three lines, and Nicole leaned forward and read it upside down:
To Curtis Major Denison
For service beyond our highest expectations
The United States Air Force Cybernetics Research Team
Nicole sat back just as the door opened, and she jumped guiltily, but it was only his secretary, an older woman with her hair pulled up into a bun at the crown of her head.
“The Major just called, Miss Lambert,” she said. “He
and Captain Oakes are on their way up. They’ll be here in a moment.”
“Thank you.” Nicole opened her file and began studying the computer readout again.
The door opened again, and she stood up swiftly as the Major swept into the room with Travis close behind.
“Oh, don’t get up, Nicole,” the Major said with a wave of his hand as he moved behind the desk.
“Hi, hon.” Travis moved to her side and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I see,” the Major said with a smile. “It wasn’t me for whom you stood.” Before either of them could respond, his mind had left preliminary amenities. “No Clayne yet?” he asked.
As if on cue, a soft knock sounded on the door, and Clayne Robertson entered. “Good evening,” he rumbled.
“Ah, Clayne, you’re just in time.” The Major waved them all to chairs. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
He turned to Nicole. “Travis has shared your preliminary findings with me, but go over them quickly again for Clayne’s benefit. Travis and I have been checking a couple of items the computer search turned up, and we can add some information as you go along.”
He sat back and formed a steeple with his hands, a typical pose when he was thinking. Nicole opened her file and turned to Clayne. “Only four things seem out of the ordinary, really. There are typical patterns, such as visits with Dr. Cameron, walks in the park, movies—”
“He’s like a kid about movies,” Clayne broke in. “That and ice cream.”
“Well,” Nicole went on, “I checked the last two weeks, and four unusual things caught my eye. Or better, two patterns and two one-only items—a trip to the Nielsen Building and Lumber Company, and a trip with Clayne’s family to Glacier Park and Hungry Horse Dam.”
Clayne spoke up. “Both of those were with me. He said he wanted to see the park and the dam, so we made it a family outing. He seemed to really enjoy it, but he didn’t do anything strange. And I was with him when he went to the lumberyard. He bought a large redwood burl and a two-foot length of two-by-twelve board.”
“A redwood burl?” Nicole said.
“Yes. A burl is a knot in the wood. In redwood trees, some of them get huge. He paid a bundle for it, because the lumberyard can get them only occasionally from traders coming in from the West Coast.”
“What does he want with a knothole?” Nicole said.
“Not a knothole,” Travis said with a smile. “It’s the knot itself, a twisted, gnarled piece of wood where the branch once tied into the main trunk.”
“He wants to carve it,” Clayne added. “Once they’re shaped and polished, they’re very beautiful. In fact, he’s already working on it.”
The Major leaned forward. “What is he carving it with?”
“A set of woodcarving tools,” Travis answered. “I authorized Clayne to let him buy them.”
“Are they dangerous tools?”
Travis shook his head. “Not really. I mean, they’re sharp but not like a dagger or a butcher knife or something. He asked for permission to get them, and I agreed. He carved all the time in the village. He’s really quite good.”
That seemed to satisfy the Major, and he leaned back again. “Okay, Nicole, what about the two unusual patterns of behavior?”
“In the last two weeks he has suddenly started visiting the university library and also the Museum of Remembrance.”
“Travis and I were just checking those two things,” the Major said. “It’s very interesting. Travis, tell them what we found.”
“Well, he made his first visit to the library a week ago yesterday. He’s made four additional visits since, averaging about an hour to an hour and a half each.”
“Eric’s mentioned some novels he’s reading,” Clayne said
“True. He’s checked out six books, all of them novels, but—” Travis paused to give emphasis to his next sentence. “While he’s at the library, he has not been in the fiction section. According to the librarian, he spends most of his time in the psychology section, asking for books on the physiology of the brain.”
“Maybe it’s not significant that all of a sudden he has a great interest in the human mind.” The Major pulled a face. “But we find the coincidence of interest.”
“Okay,” Travis continued. “The Museum of Remembrance. He first visited it on his day off three weeks ago. His tracking report shows he wandered throughout the various rooms, spending roughly the same amount of time in each. A very normal first visit. But he returned last Monday. He spent over twenty minutes in the World War Two Room. He returned on Tuesday, on Friday, and again yesterday. In each instance he goes quickly through a room or two, probably to maintain the appearance of a normal visitor, then makes a beeline for the World War Two Room, where he spends up to half an hour.”
He let the words sink in for a moment. Then, obviously saving the best for last, he added, “And in every visit since the first, he has spent almost the entire time in front of one large display case.”
“Ah,” Clayne breathed softly. “And what does that case contain?”
“We were just there. Numerous items, but the most significant would be an M-1 rifle, a Thompson submachine gun, a bazooka, and three or four hand grenades.”
“But surely none of that stuff is still useful,” Nicole said with a frown. “I mean, are the hand grenades still live?”
“No, of course not,” said the Major, “but have you forgotten? Eric’s father was a leading chemist. They made their own explosives in the village.”
“And loaded their own ammunition,” Travis added.
“Oh,” she said, her eyes widening.
“But he’s implanted,” Clayne said, his brow furrowing as he worked through the information Travis had given them. “Even if he gets it, he can’t possibly use it against us. And why steal a rifle? He can get a hunting rifle at any sporting goods store. Or for that matter, why not take a stun gun from supply?”
“He can’t do either of those,” Travis responded, “because he knows we’re tracking his every movement. A visit to the museum is innocent enough, but if he walks into a store and buys a rifle, we’ve got him immediately.”
Clayne’s expression was still dubious. “I don’t know. It doesn’t quite fit. He’s smarter than that.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” the Major said. “If he’s so obsessed with breaking loose, who knows what twisted logic he’s laboring under.”
Silence prevailed in the office as each of them considered Eric Lloyd. Finally Travis spoke up. “So what now?”
“Good question,” the Major said. “Do we let him play it out and learn his lesson, or do we just assume now that we have failed with him, drop him to a Stage Three implantation, and send him to Serenity?”
“No,” Nicole blurted, and then flushed slightly at her vehemence. “Stage Three is so—” she paused, groping for a sufficient word. “So final.” She didn’t like Eric and his mocking arrogance, but to make him little more than a functioning vegetable? The thought made her shudder. “If we can’t use him in the Guardians, can’t he just be left at Stage Two?”
The Major was watching her, his eyes thoughtful.
“No, Nicole,” Travis said gently. “He’s at Stage Two now, and here we sit worrying about what he’s up to. Stage Two is obviously not enough for Eric.”
“Aren’t we jumping the gun a little?” Clayne mused, half to himself. “We’re basically acting on my hunch that he’s going to go for it, and it is only a hunch at this point. Let’s play it out. Knowing Eric, he may have to test the system once to really believe he has no options.”
“I agree,” said Travis. “We have got to prove to him that our option is the only way to escape implantation. Let’s allow him to bump his nose once, then if he doesn’t change…”
The Major nodded slowly, then turned to Nicole. “You’re his Monitor. What do you say?”
“I agree. If he weren’t implanted…But obviously he can’t do anything too drastic.”
; “All right. That seems to be a consensus.” The Major leaned forward, his expression hardening. “But that doesn’t mean we just sit back and let him have a free hand. Nicole, I want a ‘tickle’ notice put into the tracking computer. Anytime he heads for either the library or the museum, I want that computer to start buzzing. Also if he heads for anyplace that has chemicals. Tell all the Monitors to call you immediately, day or night. Put a blow-up floor plan of both buildings in the tracking center so we can see exactly where he is when he’s inside either one.”
He turned to Travis. “Also, I want a TV camera put in the World War Two Room and a link-up to the screen in the Monitoring Center. Make it as inconspicuous as possible, but I want a clear shot of that one case.”
Clayne straightened and spoke. “Is access to the inside of the case difficult?”
“Well, yes and no,” Travis responded. “Since it’s a permanent display, the back is hinged across the bottom but clamped shut at the top. You’d need a screwdriver and about five minutes to undo the clamps.”
“Good. Mount the camera so we can see the back of the case. Travis, I want a twenty-four-hour monitor on his family. Anything suspicious there and I want to know instantly.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Travis, call our electronics specialist. I want a tap put on his telephone and a microphone in his apartment.”
Travis stared at the Major, as did Clayne and Nicole.
“But sir,” Clayne blurted, “under the laws of Shalev, that’s illegal!”
“Except in a case of national emergency,” the Major said. “If Eric somehow escapes, he could threaten our whole system. Put one on Dr. Cameron’s phone and in his apartment too. If Eric is up to something, you can bet Cameron is also in on it.”
Travis took a deep breath. “Yes, sir.”
The Major looked from one to the other. “All right. Is there anything else? What are we overlooking?”
Clayne stirred as if about to speak, then shook his head. When neither Travis or Nicole said anything, the Major stood up. “Then that does it. We’ll meet at nine o’clock every morning until the status changes one way or the other. Thank you.”