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_Utopia had been reached. All the problems of mankind had been solved. It was the perfect State. If you doubted it, you died._
The Clean and Wholesome Land
By Ralph Sholto
While Professor Cargill lectured from the rostrum, Neal Pardeau prowledthe dark auditorium. This, he knew, was the place to find them. Here waswhere they whispered and plotted and schemed--feeling safe in this pure,hard core of patriotism.
Safe because Cargill was the Director of Education in the New State,just as Pardeau was the Director of Public Security. Safe becauseCargill's lectures were given before a commanded audience, withattendance strictly mandatory.
The insistence was not really necessary of course. The people would havecome to hear Cargill regardless. His was a compelling, magneticpersonality. Even now his great voice was booming out:
"--and upon this anniversary of the New State, we can look out withgreat pride upon a clean and wholesome land. With strong emotion, we canlook upon the physical manifestation of our glorious principles--thatonly through self-effacement--through fanatic love for the state--canthe individual come to complete physical and mental fruition. Upon thisanniversary we see our enemies, both within and without, broken, andcompletely subjugated--"
This was the place they whispered and schemed and plotted. Pardeauprowled the aisles, his eyes piercing the darkness--spotting them,cataloguing them. And thus he came upon Emil Hillerman, his Deputy ofVital Intelligence sitting dutifully in the end seat of a middle aisle.Hillerman's thick lips hung lax, his eyes squinted laboriously as hesought to follow the thread of Cargill's lecture.
Pardeau tapped Hillerman on the shoulder. The latter started guiltily.He whirled and sought to identify Pardeau in the semi-darkness. Pardeausaid, "Please step outside with me. I have some questions."
There was fear in Hillerman's bearing as he got clumsily to his feet andfollowed Pardeau. But none of Cargill's speech was missed. A battery ofloudspeakers carried it even into the foyer where Pardeau stopped andturned on Hillerman. He regarded the man through cold, calculating eyes.He seemed to be both enjoying Hillerman's discomfort and also listeningto Cargill's booming words.
"--these pale weaklings, these traitors with twitching muscles andtwitching minds who skulked in dark places have been finally anddecisively defeated. Even their vaunted leader--"
"What have you been doing," Pardeau asked, "relative to Karl Lenster?"
The frightened Hillerman licked his fat lower lip as he sought forwords. "Everything--everything possible. But Lenster is clever. You knowthat. You know that yourself."
Pardeau's eyes bored into those of the Intelligence Director. They werenoted for their icy penetration, but upon this night they were likesteel knives. It was as though he surveyed Hillerman from behind thebulwark of some new and hostile information. Even as he stared, Cargillwas booming from the rostrum:
"--Karl Lenster, their _peerless_ leader--"
And Cargill's voice crackled with the inflections of pure contempt.
"--a degenerate--a dope addict whose greatness lay only in the realms ofhis sensual dreams. A weak, pitiful figure bereft of followers, cringingalone in--"
When Pardeau spoke, his voice held a new sharpness to complement the newice in his eyes. He said, "In half an hour I am attending a meeting ofthe Council. They will want a report. What about Lenster?"
Hillerman looked quickly to right and left, then back at his Chief. Hehesitated as though fearing the consequences of what he was about toreveal. "You know of the Wyckoff Chemical Transformation Process--"
"Certainly I know of it," Pardeau blazed. "What about it?"
"I--I--" But Hillerman seemed to lose the courage he'd screwed up tocontinue in this direction. He straightened and a little of the hangdogservility dropped away. "I am doing all that is humanly possible toapprehend Lenster. All that any man could do. The secret jails are full.My interrogators work night and day. Even a superficial check of myrecords would show that more has been done in the last six months and isbeing done now than--"
Pardeau raised an impatient hand, opening a gap of silence into whichthe voice of Cargill poured.
"--land in which the voice of dissenter is not heard; in which Lensterand men of his despicable ilk are forever crushed and beaten--"
Pardeau was scowling. Almost unconsciously he had held the pause, withhand upraised, until Cargill finished his passage. As Cargill stoppedfor breath, Pardeau jerked his hand down sharply, completing thegesture. "I have no time for any more of this. And I resent having toseek you out. Next time report to my office as is proper and keep meposted as to your activities. Next--"
Pardeau eyed Hillerman for one blank moment and allowed the threat toreflect clearly that possibly there would not be many more next times.Then he turned and strode swiftly from the foyer.
* * * * *
Cargill's voice had hardly faded when he picked it up again on his carradio. It was a foregone conclusion that every radio in the land wouldbe tuned to the lecture. So great was Cargill's popularity that everycitizen traveling in a car would wish to hear it and turn on hisreceiver. It was foolish not to have a radio properly tuned when Cargillspoke. He was saying:
"--and so under the banner of complete solidarity, we will marchforward, a solid phalanx against which no force can stand. Now that ourown house is swept clean of vermin--rid forever of carrion like Lensterand his ilk, we can--"
Pardeau had traveled swiftly through the streets at the high speedreserved for higher servants of the New State. Lesser servants of theNew State had learned caution and thus no regrettable deaths or maimingsoccurred; the lesser servants having grown wary and fleet of foot.
Pardeau switched off his motor but left his radio blaring. Cargill'svoice followed him up the broad steps of the Executive Building and wasjust fading out when Pardeau was able to pick it up again from theloudspeaker under the great arches.
He entered the building and traversed the vast foyer to a niche whichhoused a private elevator. He entered the lift, deserting it on theninth floor, where he entered an unobtrusive door and joined a groupwhich consisted of the New State's well guarded pool of power andbrains.
There was Blanchard of Finance; Keeley, Director of Foreign Education;Masichek, overlord of the nation's larder, and seven others.
When Pardeau entered, all conversation stopped and every man looked upfrom a luxurious overstuffed chair. Pardeau must certainly have swelledinwardly with pride at this unconscious tribute. It was well known thathe held a key position on the chessboard of politics. His was in realitythe most important job of all. It was to Pardeau that this powerfulgroup of men looked for that which they most treasured--their ownpersonal safety.
A chair was waiting for Pardeau. He said, "I'm sorry to be late,gentlemen. I have been on a personal tour of inspection. I'm sure youwill forgive me however. I have a most interesting report."
He seated himself, timing the action so it coincided with the ebb ofapplause coming over the speaker--applause from the loyal multitudeswho had just heard Professor Cargill end his lecture. As it was nowpermissible, Blanchard reached under the table and snapped a button. Thespeaker went silent.
"An interesting report?" Keeley asked.
"Amazingly so," Pardeau said. "I have just unearthed a traitor--atraitor in a high place."
Every man in the group strove not to react and this striving was initself a reaction. "Most interesting," Blanchard murmured. "Are youready to name names?"
"That is my intention, but in order to forestall a great many questions,let me give you a complete ba
ckground."
Leiderman, Ambassador without Portfolio, and very close to the Man ofAlmost Sacred Name who never attended these meetings, felt strong enoughto evince impatience. "The name, man! First the name. Then the details."
Pardeau smiled coldly. "Very well. The name is, Karl Lenster."
Leiderman sprang from his chair, his face bordering on purple. "Is thisa joke, Pardeau? We all know Lenster is the arch-traitor of ourtimes--the leader of the resistance movement. Talk sense!"
Pardeau, not in the least disconcerted, smiled coldly. "I'm sorry.Perhaps I should have said Emil Hillerman, my Deputy of VitalIntelligence, the man who holds immeasurable power in his two hands."
Blanchard was not given to outbursts. But his lips were grim as he said,"We are waiting for you to talk sense, Pardeau."
"The confusion comes from your not allowing me to tell it as I wished.There is a gap between Lenster and Hillerman; one which--with yourpermission--I will fill."
"Talk, man! Talk!"
"You have all heard of Formula 652, known also as the Wyckoff ChemicalTransformation Process."
There were expressions of both understanding and bewilderment. Notingthese, Pardeau said, "For those of you who haven't made a point oflooking into the thing, I'll explain. Wyckoff, in case you don't recall,was a chemical engineer of more than average ability who stumbled ontothis formula before he died, most regretfully, four years ago, in 1984."
Leiderman continued to scowl. "We all know each other, Pardeau. Call aspade a spade. Wyckoff was a reactionary scoundrel whom you did awaywith for reasons of security."
"Precisely," Pardeau said. "In its essence, the formula is a process fortaking over a man's brain--his body--his personality."
"You mean--"
Pardeau refused to be interrupted. "We were of the opinion that Wyckoff,though he and Lenster were great friends, was not able to impart hisknowledge to the latter. We took him into custody shortly after heperfected the formula and were fortunate in persuading him to give it tous."
"But he gave it to Lenster also?"
"We were certain, at the time of his death, that he had not been able todo that--we are still certain."
Keeley, with a gesture, requested the floor. "I wonder if you could gointo a little more detail concerning the formula--for those of us who--"
"Of course," Pardeau said. "The formula is a combination of sixchemicals and the process of transformation is relatively simple, yethighly dangerous to both subjects involved. It means sure death for theproposed host, and if not delicately handled will also result in deathfor the usurper. The transformation requires three hours to perform.Once completed successfully, the usurper can never return to his ownbody. It must be destroyed. Also, the mentality of the host vanishesafter it is pushed from its original brain tissue through the influenceof the formula."
"Then if Wyckoff didn't give the formula to Lenster, it was stolen fromour vaults--or wherever it was kept?"
"Exactly. Certain investigations I have made prove beyond doubt thatLenster got to my Deputy, Hillerman. I never considered Hillerman verybright, but I thought him to be honest and loyal. But beyond all doubt,with his aid, Lenster stole the formula--possibly got it verbally--andused it to take Hillerman's body from him." Pardeau smiled grimly."Therefore, gentlemen, we have a traitor in a high place. My Deputy ofVital Intelligence."
* * * * *
Pardeau sat silent now, seeming to enjoy the fear he had engendered inhis colleagues--sat silent until Leiderman said, "You've arrested him ofcourse."
"No. I have not."
"Then get at it, man--get at it."
"I have no intention of arresting Hillerman."
Leiderman's eyes widened as did those of the rest of the company. ButBlanchard, even under the impact of such a bombshell had the presence ofmind to glance at his watch. Immediately he snapped on the loudspeaker.The voice of Professor Cargill blared forth:
"--and upon this anniversary of the New State, we can look with prideupon a clean and wholesome land--"
It was the rebroadcast, from recordings, of Cargill's speech and no manin his right mind would have refrained from tuning it in becauseeveryone wanted to hear it at least twice.
Leiderman, almost apoplectic, ignored the speech. "Not arresting him!Are you mad?"
"I'm quite sane, and the situation is well in hand." Pardeau grinned andthere was wickedness in the grin--wickedness and intelligence. "As Isaid before, Hillerman was not a smart man. His job was too much forhim and I would have been faced, soon, with the necessity of replacinghim regardless. Lenster, on the other hand, is of grade-A intellect.But, gentlemen, he is frightened--badly frightened in his newenvironment--and, in order to insure his own safety, is doing anexcellent job. Ever since the transformation, that department has gainedin efficiency until it now ranks as one of the highest in our entiregovernment."
Slowly, Pardeau's strategy dawned on the group. Blanchard suddenlysmiled. Then Pardeau scowled and went on with a new and sudden ferocity."I have the proof, and I have Lenster-Hillerman under my palm. So hestays--continues to do a good job for us. But he'll be watched,gentlemen. He won't be able to go to the bathroom without being undersurveillance. We will learn a great deal from him. All we need to know."
"Then you'll arrest him?" the boss of the state larder wanted to know.
Pardeau came to his feet. His fist slammed down on the table. "I shall_not_ arrest him--ever. When the time comes, I shall personally shoothim down in the street like a dog. There will come a day, gentlemen,when you will witness this act of vengeance--when I shall make such anexample of Lenster-Hillerman as the resistance will not forget--amorale-crumbling example, I promise you."
"--in which Lenster and his ilk are forever crushed and beaten," thespeaker said.
Blanchard took the floor. "Gentlemen--I move a vote of thanks andconfidence for our colleague, Neal Pardeau."
The Director of Public Security stood at attention and assayed a sharp,military bow. It was a moment of rare triumph. "Thank you, gentlemen,"he said.
* * * * *
An hour later, Lenster-Pardeau was alone in his apartments. He strippedoff his uniform with an air of grim satisfaction. While he undressed, hethought of the martyrs to the Cause; the men who had died. He thought ofWyckoff and wished Wyckoff could have had the pleasure of knowing whohad usurped the body of Neal Pardeau--Pardeau the Butcher--the infamousPardeau.
From the speaker came the third and final rebroadcast of Cargill'sspeech:
"--a clean and wholesome land--"
"A clean and wholesome land," Lenster murmured, and the tone of hisvoice was a prayer.
THE END
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_ September 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.