"Praise be to Antares. My extracts ... where are they, where are my quarters ... let's get out of here!" Palanth could think of nothing but his priceless collection. "Without them I'd have to condition myself to pollution!"
"You're not very complimentary, Martian!" Doctor Fortun chided, her hazel eyes flickered open and she sat up. The girl surveyed Mark Lynn with calm, clear eyes. "What, no violence, not even recriminations? What an utterly erroneous conception the Council has about you Internationals," she observed, and waited for Mark to speak.
"We don't indulge in futilities, Doctor Fortun," Mark replied. "But perhaps you can give us an inkling of what all this is about; I think we deserve at least that much, Scientist!"
The girl seemed to meditate in silence. An odd, half fearful, half ashamed expression flitted across her features. "Yes, you deserve a great deal more than I can offer you, Spacer Lynn. But I'm afraid I can only give you another unpleasant experience to chalk up against me. It's all part of a pattern agreed upon even before you and your companion arrived on Terra. It was thought that only your influence on Internationals and Philosophers could persuade them to evacuate—they'd believe you, where they would never trust the Council. It was necessary that you be seen on Terra—when you entered the Council building, it was visi-screened in detail throughout the World State; your encounter with the attacker on the street, was seen by countless millions. It had to be established that you were on Terra, and in touch with the Council, so that your audio-visi-screen broadcast should be considered authentic."
"But I didn't broadcast, my orders from the Council were to promise all Internationals, Philosophers and the Ruralians—in fact, all dissenters—a habitable planet to which they would be transported in sleep-freeze, together with all metallic substances, seeds, plasms, drugs, food, in fact everything required for their normal existence for a five-year cycle—free from interference by the Government of the World State—provided they agreed to furnish the World State with an equal amount of materials within one hundred years. I never believed for an instant that the Council would relinquish control, the absolute lack of weapons, or of machinery to fashion them, was in itself a proof of intentions beyond the letter of the offer. I meant to refuse to broadcast to the irreconcilables my personal guarantee as demanded by the Council. Besides, I know of no such planet."
"That was why I took you to Havanol," Doctor Fortun nodded sadly. "The Council anticipated your refusal—your psychological data easily told them that—and since at Havanol only those with special permit could enter, the guests were specially chosen, so that none without the scientific circle knew you were there, thus your broadcast became authentic in the minds of the dissenters. You noticed there were no visi-screens at Havanol, under the excuse that nothing that did not contribute to pleasure could be permitted."
"But I tell you, I didn't broadcast!" Mark was becoming exasperated. "You keep on harping on that!"
"No, but your double did," the girl's voice was opaque. "Turn on the visi-screen in the Spacer, and you'll learn the truth. Everything that has been visi-screened on Terra since your arrival, was recorded in the Spacer's telecast—simply select the broadcasts of the date and hour when we went to Havanol, and it will be shown on the visi-screen panel in the Commander's quarters. Your double—part resemblance, part surgico-synthesis even imitates your voice within one-tenth of a microgram of its tonal quality. Detection was beyond human power, Spacer Lynn."
"If I ever get my hands on him...!" Mark's fingers clenched spasmodically as his face went dark with passion.