The two men had a warm relationship, based primarily on the essential loneliness of all Stage Threes. Miguel made a point of keeping Martin Merman well versed on all current operations. Not only did it train Merman, but he often came up with quite acceptable alterations in established programs. Para-voice between them was reserved for those situations when speed of communication was essential. When there was no pressure they preferred the leisure of actual conversation.
“The Branson operation has been one of the subtler ones,” Miguel said. “We couldn’t handle it openly because of the possibility of interference by Shard. That’s why I stepped in over a year ago and steered Enfield and Branson into handling it as a secret mission. Looked like a better chance of getting it all wound up before Shard realized it.”
“How did he get onto it? Do you know?”
“When he blocked the assassination of George Fahdi, and I still insist it wasn’t your fault it didn’t work, he left an agent close to Smith, unfortunately a Stage Two who caught in Smith’s mind the details of the pending trip to see Branson. They found they couldn’t control Branson properly. That’s when they made the substitution. Lorin could still snatch our fat from the fire. They tried to block him with illusions. We lost him and picked him up again at the hospital and Karen brought him here. I can get his account of the conferences published. Fahdi is the trouble point. World indignation might be just enough to tip him over.”
“Won’t Shard’s people be hunting for this Lorin?”
“Obviously, but I suspect they know he’s here where they can’t touch him.”
“What are you going to do then, Miguel?”
“He’s finished the article. Damn good, too. As soon as I place it, I’m going to turn him loose.”
“And let Shard’s people pick him up and force a repudiation?”
“Exactly.”
“Then what’s the point of the whole thing? What is gained?”
“It’s a feint, Martin. The real target is Smith.”
Merman frowned and then grinned. “I see what you mean. Let Smith see his opportunity. Let him give George Fahdi a false account of the talk with Branson, now that Branson is dead, and then use his own knowledge of the sub rosa deal to ride into power and...”
“He has already given Fahdi the false account. He was quick to see the advantage after a little... gentle suggestion. Too bad he’s a psychopathic personality. Be good material otherwise. Tough enough. Ambitious enough. Keep Shard concentrating on Lorin and maybe Fahdi can go the way of most dictators. If he’s tipped over, that will put the fear of God into Stephen Chu and Garva for a time. Will of the people. All that sort of thing.”
“So this Lorin becomes your stalking horse.”
“Which won’t please the fair Karen. Bit of an emotional set there.”
“Really? It does happen sometimes. I remember a girl, back when I was a Stage Two. Talked myself into believing she could make it. Cracked up in no time at all.”
“Lorin has some good latent abilities. But he won’t survive Shard’s gentle attentions. He’s already had just about as much as he could take. There was a flaw in the substitution and he noticed it. And he can’t quite bring himself to look squarely at all the inferences.”
“Fahdi is prime target?”
“Like Hitler, back when I was a Stage One, Martin. That was a wild and merry chase. The Stage Three in charge arranged three assassination attempts, and each one was blocked, barely in time. Good Lord, that was nearly forty years ago.”
“When you were nearly four years younger, Miguel?” Martin Merman asked gently.
“When you are a Stage One you believe in too many things. Fahdi is prime. I have three people building up the student revolt in the Argentine, several lobbying on the trade agreements at New Delhi, one teaching Garva some new and more destructive pleasures of the flesh. Those are top order. Except for this Branson thing, Shard seems to depend on those old trustworthy ‘border incidents.’ They’re effective, but only in a limited way. Stability, unity, must come from within. That’s why I’ve assigned so many of our people to the routine job of agricultural research — helping the actual researchers see old things in a new way. But I have a hedge against defeat, too.”
“That’s a nice trick if you can manage it.”
“Back to the oldest continent, Martin. Back to the newest power rising in the heart of Africa in another forty, fifty years. We’re stirring them up there. Making them think. Making them come alive. Like all the years of labor in India.”
Martin frowned. “What would happen, Miguel, if... one side or the other achieved a victory so sweeping that... there was no turning back.”
“You mean if the pot boiled over? It won’t. It can’t.”
The soda hissed into the glass as Miguel made a drink for Dake Lorin. He handed the tall man the glass.
“Drink a toast to yourself, Dake. You get it on the front page of the Times-News. Bylined. Wire services all over the world.”
Dake stared at him. “They wouldn’t touch it when I took it to them.”
“You couldn’t tell them those Disservice people wouldn’t raise a stink. I can. Old friends I got down there. Here’s your money back. Didn’t need it.”
“What’s your object in helping me, Mr. Larner.”
Miguel shrugged his thick shoulders. “The way I work. I do you a favor. You do me a favor. That makes the world go around. Got any plans?”
“Not yet. I thought I’d see if I can’t get back into the same sort of thing I was doing working for Darwin Branson. I want to see if I can get an appointment with Enfield.”
“Want me to fix that?”
Dake smiled. “I guess you could, all right. I guess there isn’t much you can’t do. But I think I better try this on my own.”
“He isn’t going to be too happy when that paper hits the streets. And that ought to be in... about two hours.”
“Think the article will do any good, Mr. Larner?”
“That kind of thing is over my head, Dake. I see it this way. Nothing will keep that dope from filtering into Brazil, North China, Irania. Of course nobody will try to keep it out of Pak-India. So the world gets to know that all the big boys were right on the verge of making a deal, and didn’t quite do it. Enough people yelling and maybe it will go through anyway. Public opinion might scare the big shots. Then we’d have that free exchange of information, reopening of frontiers to air travel, cooperative use of the canals, a few disputed boundary lines redrawn to satisfy both parties. As I see it, it could work. Lloyds of Calcutta is giving seven to three on war within the next year. Maybe your article will change hell out of those odds.”
“I don’t think any part of it is over your head.”
“I stick to my own line. Prono, and supplying the fleng joints, and the tridi franchises. Hell, so long as I can keep making a fast rupee, I should sweat up the world? I should live so long? Nice having you around, Dake. Let me know how you make out.”
“You sound like a friend of mine. She has the same approximate philosophy. She calls me a do-gooder. Patrice Togelson.”
“I know about her. She and me, we’d make a good team. Bring her around some time.”
“She thinks she’s a team all by herself. I’ve got to take this money back to her. She loaned it to me. To make a damn fool of myself with.”
“Good luck, boy. Don’t take any wooden rupees.”
Dake went up and picked up his suitcase, went the rest of the way up to the lobby. He nodded at Johnny, the desk clerk, told him he was leaving for good. As he turned toward the door he heard his name called.