One thing that held him back was the thought that if he became a rebel,
he would be pitted against his friends--not only those of Earth, but
that strange joyous crew out in space. He couldn't see fighting against
them.
Then there was the very practical consideration that he hadn't the
faintest idea of how to contact the underground even if he wanted to.
And he'd make a hell of a poor conspirator.
He was still in an unhappy and undecided whirlpool when the monitors
came for him.
* * * * *
They knocked on the door at midnight, as was their custom, and he felt
such an utter panic that he could barely make it across the apartment to
let them in. The four burly men wavered before his eyes, and there was a
roaring and a darkness in his head. They arrested him without ceremony
on suspicion of treason, which meant that habeas corpus and even the
right of trial didn't apply. Two of them escorted him to a car, the
other two stayed to search his dwelling.
At headquarters, he was put in a cell and left to stew for some hours.
Then a pair of men in the uniform of the federal police led him to a
questioning chamber. He was given a chair and a smiling, soft-voiced
man--almost fatherly, with his plump cheeks and white hair--offered him
a cigarette and began talking to him.
"Just relax, Dr. Lancaster. This is pretty routine. If you've nothing to
hide then you've nothing to fear. Just tell the truth."
"Of course." It was a dry whisper.
"Oh, you're thirsty. So sorry. Alec, get Dr. Lancaster a glass of water,
will you, please? And by the way, my name is Harris. Let's call this a
friendly conference, eh?"
Lancaster drank avidly. Harris' manner was disarming, and the physicist
felt more at ease. This was--well, it was just a mistake. Or maybe a
simple spot check. Nothing to fear. He wouldn't be sent to camp--not he.
Such things happened to other people, not to Allen Lancaster.
"You've been immunized against neoscop?" asked Harris.
"Yes. It's routine for my rank and over, you know. In case we should
ever be kidnapped--but why am I telling _you_ this?" Lancaster tried to
smile. His face felt stiff.
"Hm. Yes. Too bad."
"Of course, I've no objection at all to your using a lie detector on
me."
"Fine, fine." Harris beamed and gestured to one of the expressionless
policemen. A table was wheeled forth, bearing the instrument. "I'm glad
you're so cooperative, Dr. Lancaster. You've no idea how much trouble
it saves me--and you."
They ran a few harmless calibrating questions. Then Harris said, still
smiling, "And now tell me, Dr. Lancaster. Where were you really this
summer?"
Lancaster felt his heart leap into his throat, and knew in a sudden
terror that the dials were registering his reaction. "Why--I took my
vacation," he stammered. "I was in the Southwest--"
"Mmmm--the machine doesn't quite agree with you." Harris remained
impishly cheerful.
"But it's _true_! You can check back and--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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