did he do it? I don’t understand.’
Tito said, ‘A long time ago one must have died.’
They both stared at him.
‘Sure,’ Tito said calmly. ‘What happened here today must have happened before. They were mutants, all right, joined from birth, and then the one body perished and the surviving one quickly had this synthetic section built. It couldn’t have gone on alone without the symbiotic arrangement because the brain—’ He broke off. ‘You saw what it did to the surviving one just now; he suffered terribly. Imagine how it must have been the first time, when . . .’
‘But he survived it,’ Sal pointed out.
‘Good for him,’ Tito said, without irony. ‘I’m frankly glad he did; he deserved to.’ Kneeling down, he inspected the trunk. ‘It looks to me as if this is George. I hope he can get it restored. In time.’ He rose, then. ‘Let’s get upstairs and back to the field; I want to get out of here.’ He shivered. ‘And then I want a glass of warm, non-fat milk. A big one.’
The three of them, with the party volunteers struggling behind, made their way silently back to the elevator. No one stopped them. The corridor, mercifully, was empty. Without even a pic to leer and cajole at them.
When they arrived back in Chicago, Patricia Heim met them and at once said, ‘Thank God.’ She put her arms around her husband, and he hugged her tight. ‘What happened? It seemed to take so long, and yet it actually wasn’t long at all; you’ve only been gone an hour.’
‘I’ll tell you later,’ Sal said shortly. ‘Right now I just want to take it easy.’
‘Maybe I’ll cease advocating shutting the Golden Door satellite down,’ Jim said suddenly.
‘What?’ Sal said, astonished.
‘I may have been too hard. Too puritanical. I’d prefer not to take away his livelihood; it seems to me he’s earned it.’ He felt numb right now, unable really to think about it. But what had shocked him the most, changed him, had not been the sight of George Walt coming apart into two entities, one artificial, one genuine. It had been Lurton Sands’ disclosure about the mass of maimed bibs.
He had been thinking about this, trying to see a way out. Obviously, if the maimed bibs were to be awakened at all they would have to be last in sequence. And by then perhaps replacement organs would be available in supply from the UN’s organ bank. But there was another possibility, and he had come onto it only just now. George Walt’s corporate existence proved the workability of wholly mechanical organs. And in this Jim Briskin saw hope for Lurton Sands’ victims. Possibly a deal could be made with George Walt; he—or they—would be left alone if they would reveal the manufacture of their highly sophisticated and successful artificial components. It was, most likely, a West German firm; the cartels were most advanced in such experimentation. But it could of course be engineers under contract to the satellite alone, in permanent residence there. In any case, four hundred lives represented a great number, worth any effort at saving. Worth any deal, he decided, with George Walt which could be brought off.
‘Let’s get something warm to drink,’ Pat said. ‘I’m freezing.’ She started toward the front door of Republican-Liberal party headquarters, key in hand. ‘We can fix some synthetic non-toxic coffee inside.’
As they stood around the coffee pot waiting for it to heat, Tito said, ‘Why not let the satellite decline naturally? As emigration begins it can serve a steadily dwindling market You implied something along those lines in your Chicago speech anyhow.’
‘I’ve been up there before,’ Sal said, ‘as you know. And it didn’t kill me. Tito’s been there before, too, and it didn’t warp or kill him.’
‘Okay, okay,’ Jim said. ‘If George Walt leaves me alone, I’ll leave them alone. But if they keep after me, or if they won’t make a deal regarding artif-org construction—then
Tito said, ‘A long time ago one must have died.’
They both stared at him.
‘Sure,’ Tito said calmly. ‘What happened here today must have happened before. They were mutants, all right, joined from birth, and then the one body perished and the surviving one quickly had this synthetic section built. It couldn’t have gone on alone without the symbiotic arrangement because the brain—’ He broke off. ‘You saw what it did to the surviving one just now; he suffered terribly. Imagine how it must have been the first time, when . . .’
‘But he survived it,’ Sal pointed out.
‘Good for him,’ Tito said, without irony. ‘I’m frankly glad he did; he deserved to.’ Kneeling down, he inspected the trunk. ‘It looks to me as if this is George. I hope he can get it restored. In time.’ He rose, then. ‘Let’s get upstairs and back to the field; I want to get out of here.’ He shivered. ‘And then I want a glass of warm, non-fat milk. A big one.’
The three of them, with the party volunteers struggling behind, made their way silently back to the elevator. No one stopped them. The corridor, mercifully, was empty. Without even a pic to leer and cajole at them.
When they arrived back in Chicago, Patricia Heim met them and at once said, ‘Thank God.’ She put her arms around her husband, and he hugged her tight. ‘What happened? It seemed to take so long, and yet it actually wasn’t long at all; you’ve only been gone an hour.’
‘I’ll tell you later,’ Sal said shortly. ‘Right now I just want to take it easy.’
‘Maybe I’ll cease advocating shutting the Golden Door satellite down,’ Jim said suddenly.
‘What?’ Sal said, astonished.
‘I may have been too hard. Too puritanical. I’d prefer not to take away his livelihood; it seems to me he’s earned it.’ He felt numb right now, unable really to think about it. But what had shocked him the most, changed him, had not been the sight of George Walt coming apart into two entities, one artificial, one genuine. It had been Lurton Sands’ disclosure about the mass of maimed bibs.
He had been thinking about this, trying to see a way out. Obviously, if the maimed bibs were to be awakened at all they would have to be last in sequence. And by then perhaps replacement organs would be available in supply from the UN’s organ bank. But there was another possibility, and he had come onto it only just now. George Walt’s corporate existence proved the workability of wholly mechanical organs. And in this Jim Briskin saw hope for Lurton Sands’ victims. Possibly a deal could be made with George Walt; he—or they—would be left alone if they would reveal the manufacture of their highly sophisticated and successful artificial components. It was, most likely, a West German firm; the cartels were most advanced in such experimentation. But it could of course be engineers under contract to the satellite alone, in permanent residence there. In any case, four hundred lives represented a great number, worth any effort at saving. Worth any deal, he decided, with George Walt which could be brought off.
‘Let’s get something warm to drink,’ Pat said. ‘I’m freezing.’ She started toward the front door of Republican-Liberal party headquarters, key in hand. ‘We can fix some synthetic non-toxic coffee inside.’
As they stood around the coffee pot waiting for it to heat, Tito said, ‘Why not let the satellite decline naturally? As emigration begins it can serve a steadily dwindling market You implied something along those lines in your Chicago speech anyhow.’
‘I’ve been up there before,’ Sal said, ‘as you know. And it didn’t kill me. Tito’s been there before, too, and it didn’t warp or kill him.’
‘Okay, okay,’ Jim said. ‘If George Walt leaves me alone, I’ll leave them alone. But if they keep after me, or if they won’t make a deal regarding artif-org construction—then
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