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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Check and Checkmate, by Walter Miller
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+Title: Check and Checkmate
+
+Author: Walter Miller
+
+Illustrator: TOM BEECHAM
+
+Release Date: June 16, 2010 [EBook #32837]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CHECK AND CHECKMATE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                          CHECK and CHECKMATE
+
+                         By WALTER MILLER, Jr.
+
+                       Illustrated by TOM BEECHAM
+
+[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science
+Fiction January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence
+that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+[Sidenote: _Victory hinges not always on the mightiest sword, but often
+on lowly subterfuge. Here is a classic example, with the Western World
+as stooge!_]
+
+
+John Smith XVI, new President of the Western Federation of Autonomous
+States, had made a number of campaign promises that nobody really
+expected him to fulfill, for after all, the campaign and the election
+were only ceremonies, and the President--who had no real name of his
+own--had been trained for the executive post since birth. He had been
+elected by a popular vote of 603,217,954 to 130, the dissenters casting
+their negative by announcing that, for the sake of national unity, they
+refused to participate in any civilized activities during the
+President's term, whereupon they were admitted (voluntarily) to the camp
+for conscientious objectors.
+
+But now, two weeks after his inauguration, he seemed ready to make good
+the first and perhaps most difficult promise of the lot: to confer by
+televiewphone with Ivan Ivanovitch the Ninth, the Peoplesfriend and
+Vicar of the Asian Proletarian League. The President apparently meant to
+keep to himself the secret of his success in the difficult task of
+arranging the interview in spite of the lack of any diplomatic contact
+between the nations, in spite of the Hell Wall, and the interference
+stations which made even radio communication impossible between the two
+halves of the globe. Someone had suggested that John Smith XVI had
+floated a note to Ivan IX in a bottle, and the suggestion, though
+ludicrous, seemed not at all unlikely.
+
+John XVI seemed quite pleased with himself as he sat with his staff of
+Primary Stand-ins in the study of his presidential palace. His face, of
+course, was invisible behind the golden mask of the official helmet, the
+mask of tragedy with its expression of pathos symbolizing the
+self-immolation of public service--as well as protecting the President's
+own personal visage from public view, and hence from assassination in
+unmasked private life, for not only was he publicly nameless, but also
+publicly faceless and publicly unknown as an individual. But despite the
+invisibility of his expression, his contentment became apparent by a
+certain briskness of gesticulation and a certain smugness in his voice
+as he spoke to the nine Stand-ins who were also bodyguards,
+council-members, and advisors to the chief executive.
+
+"Think of it, men," he sighed happily in his smooth tenor, slightly
+muffled by the mask. "Communication with the East--after forty years of
+the Big Silence. A great moment in history, perhaps the greatest since
+the last peace-effort."
+
+The nine men nodded dutifully. The President looked around at them and
+chuckled.
+
+"'Peace-effort'," he echoed, spitting the words out distinctly as if
+they were a pair of phonetic specimens. "Do you remember what it used to
+be called--in the middle of the last century?"
+
+A brief silence, then a Stand-in frowned thoughtfully. "Called it 'war',
+didn't they, John?"
+
+"Precisely." The golden helmet nodded crisply. "'War'--and now
+'peace-effort'. Our semantics has progressed. Our present
+'security-probe' was once called 'lynch'. 'Social-security' once meant a
+limited insurance plan, not connoting euthanasia and sterilization for
+the ellie-moes. And that word 'ellie-moe'--once eleemosynary--was once
+applied to institutions that took _care_ of the handicapped."
+
+He waited for the burst of laughter to subside. A Stand-in, still
+chuckling, spoke up.
+
+"It's our institutions that have evolved, John."
+
+"True enough," the President agreed. "But as they changed, most of them
+kept their own names. Like 'the Presidency'. It used to be
+rabble-chosen, as our ceremonies imply. Then the Qualifications
+Amendment that limited it to the psychologically fit. And then the
+Education Amendment prescribed other qualifying rules. And the Genetic
+Amendment, and the Selection Amendment, and finally the seclusion and
+depersonalization. Until it gradually got out of the rabble's hands,
+except symbolically." He paused. "Still, it's good to keep the old
+names. As long as the names don't change, the rabble is happy, and say,
+'We have preserved the Pan-American way of life'."
+
+"While the rabble is really impotent," added a Stand-in.
+
+"Don't say that!" John Smith XVI snapped irritably, sitting quickly
+erect on the self-conforming couch. "And if you believe it, you're a
+fool." His voice went sardonic. "Why don't you try abolishing me and
+find out?"
+
+"Sorry, John. I didn't mean--"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The President stood up and paced slowly toward the window where he stood
+gazing between the breeze-stirred drapes at the sun-swept city of
+Acapulco and at the breakers rolling toward the distant beach.
+
+"No, my power is of the rabble," he confessed, "and I am their friend."
+He turned to look at them and laugh. "Should I build my power on men
+like you? Or the Secondary Stand-ins? Baa! For all your securities, you
+are still stooges. Of the rabble. Do you obey me because I control
+military force? Or because I control rabble? The latter I think. For
+despite precautions, military forces can be corrupted. Rabble cannot.
+They rule you through me, and I rule you through them. And I am their
+servant because I have to be. No tyrant can survive by oppression."
+
+A gloomy hush followed his words. It was still fourteen minutes before
+time for the televiewphone contact with Ivan Ivanovitch IX. The
+President turned back to the "window". He stared "outside" until he grew
+tired of the view. He pressed a button on the wall. The window went
+black. He pressed another button, which brought another view: Pike's
+Peak at sunset. As the sky gathered gray twilight, he twisted a dial and
+ran the sun back up again.
+
+The palace was built two hundred feet underground, and the study was a
+safe with walls of eight-inch steel. It lent a certain air of security.
+
+The historic moment was approaching. The Stand-ins seemed nervous. What
+changes had occurred behind the Hell Wall, what new developments in
+science, what political mutations? Only rumors came from beyond the
+Wall, since the last big peace-effort which had ended in stalemate and
+total isolation. The intelligence service did the best that it could,
+but the picture was fuzzy and incomplete. There was still "communism",
+but the word's meaning had apparently changed. It was said that the
+third Ivan had been a crafty opportunist but also a wise man who,
+although he did nothing to abolish absolutism, effected a bloody
+reformation in which the hair-splitting Marxist dogmatics had been
+purged. He appointed the most pragmatic men he could find to succeed
+them, and set the whole continental regime on the road to a harsh but
+practical utilitarian civilization.
+
+A slogan had leaked across the Wall recently: "There is no God but a
+Practical Man; there is no Law but a Best Solution," and it seemed to
+affirm that the third Ivan's influence had continued after his
+passing--although the slogan itself was a dogma. And it might mean
+something quite non-literal to the people who spoke it. The rabble of
+the West were still stirred to deep emotion by a thing that began, "When
+in the course of human events--" and they saw nothing incongruous about
+Tertiary Stand-ins who quoted it in the name of the Federation's rule.
+
+But the unknown factor that disturbed the President most was not the
+present Asian political or economic situation, but rather, the state of
+scientific development, particularly as it applied to military matters.
+The forty years of non-communication had not been spent in military
+stasis, at least not for the West. Sixty percent of the federal budget
+was still being spent for defense. Powerful new weapons were still being
+developed, and old ones pronounced obsolete. The seventh John Smith had
+even conspired to have a conspiracy against himself in Argentina, with
+resulting civil war, so that the weapons could be tested under actual
+battle conditions--for the region had been overpopulated anyway. The
+results had been comforting--but John the Sixteenth wanted to know more
+about what the enemy was doing.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Hell Wall--which was really only a globe-encircling belt of
+booby-trapped land and ocean, guarded from both sides--had its political
+advantages, of course. The mysterious doings of the enemy, real and
+imagined, were a constant and suspenseful threat that made it easy for
+the Smiths to keep the rabble in hand. But for all the present Smith
+knew, the threat might very well be real. He had to find out. It would
+also be a popular triumph he could toss to the rabble, bolstering his
+position with them, and thereby securing his hold on the Primary,
+Secondary, and Tertiary Stand-ins, who were becoming a little too
+presumptuous of late.
+
+He had a plan in mind, vague, tentative, and subject to constant
+revision to suit events as they might begin to occur. He kept the plan's
+goal to himself, knowing that the Stand-ins would call it insane,
+dangerous, impossible.
+
+"John! We're picking up their station!" a Stand-in called. "It's a
+minute before time!"
+
+He left the window and walked calmly to the couch before the
+televiewphone, whose screen had come alive with the kaleidoscope
+patterns of the interference-station which sprang to life as soon as an
+enemy station tried to broadcast.
+
+"Have the fools cut that scatter-station!" he barked angrily.
+
+A Stand-in grabbed at a microphone, but before he made the call the
+interference stopped--a few seconds before the appointed time. The
+screen revealed an empty desk and a wall behind, with a flag of the
+Asian League. No one was in the picture, which was slightly blurred by
+several relay stations, which had been set up on short notice for this
+one broadcast.
+
+A wall-clock peeped the hour in a childish voice: "Sixteen o'clock,
+Thirdday, Smithweek, also Accident-Prevention Week and Probe-Subversives
+Week; Happy 2073! Peep!"
+
+A man walked into the picture and sat down, facing John Smith XVI. A
+heavy-set man, clad in coveralls, and wearing a red rubber or plastic
+helmet-mask. The mask was the face of the first Soviet dictator, dead
+over a century ago. John's scalp bristled slightly beneath his own
+golden headdress. He tried to relax. The room was hushed. The opposing
+leaders stared at each other without speaking. Historic moment!
+
+Ivan Ivanovitch slowly lifted his hand and waved it in greeting. John
+Smith returned the gesture, then summoned courage to speak first.
+
+"You have translators at hand?"
+
+"I need none," the red mask growled in the Western tongue. "You are
+unable to speak my tongue. We shall speak yours."
+
+The President started. How could the Red know that he did not speak the
+Russo-Asian dialect?
+
+"Very well." The President reached for a prepared text and began to
+read. "I requested this conference in the hope of establishing some form
+of contact between our peoples, through their duly constituted executive
+authorities. I hope that we can agree on a series of conferences, aimed
+eventually at a lessening of the tension between us. I do not propose
+that we alter our respective positions, nor to change our physical
+isolation from one another, except in the field of high-level diplomacy
+and...."
+
+"Why?" grunted the Asian chieftain.
+
+John Smith XVI hesitated. The gutteral monosyllable had been toneless
+and disinterested. The Red was going to draw him out, apparently. Very
+well, he would be frank--for a time.
+
+"The answer should be evident, Peoplesfriend. I presume that your
+government spends a respectable sum for armaments. My government does
+likewise. The eventual aim should be economy...."
+
+"Is this a disarmament proposal?"
+
+The fellow was blunt. Smith cleared his throat. "Not at the present
+time, Peoplesfriend. I hoped that eventually we might be able to
+establish a mutual trust so that to some extent we could lessen the
+burden...."
+
+"Stop talking Achesonian, President. What do you want?"
+
+The President went rigid. "Very well," he said sarcastically, "I propose
+that we reduce military expenses by blowing the planet in half. The
+halves can circle each other as satellite twins, and we'll have achieved
+perfect isolation. It would seem more economical than the present
+course."
+
+He apparently had sized-up the Peoplesfriend correctly. The man threw
+back his masked head and laughed uproariously.
+
+"The Solomon solution!... ha ha!... Slice the baby in half!" the
+Stalin-mask chuckled. Then he paused to grow sober. "Too bad we can't do
+it, isn't it?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+John Smith sat stiffly waiting. Diplomacy was dead, and he had made a
+mistake in trying to be polite. Diplomats were dead, and the art
+forgotten. Poker-game protocol had to apply here, and it was really the
+only sensible way: for two opponents to try to cheat each other honestly
+and jovially. He was glad the Soviet Worker's Vicar had not responded to
+his first politeness.
+
+"Anything else, Smith?"
+
+"We can discuss agenda later. What about the continued conferences?"
+
+"Suits me. I have nothing to lose. I am in a position to destroy you
+anyway, a position I have occupied for several years. I have not cared
+to do so, since you made no overt moves against us."
+
+A brief silence. Bluff? Smith wondered. Certainly bluff. On the other
+hand, it would be interesting to see how far Ivan would brag.
+
+"I gather your atomic research has made rapid strides, for you to make
+such a boast," Smith ventured.
+
+"Not at all. In fact, my predecessor had it curtailed and limited to
+industrial applications. Our weapons program has become uni-directional,
+and extremely inexpensive. I'll tell you about it sometime."
+
+Smith's flesh crawled. Something was wrong here. The Asian leader was
+too much at his ease. His words meant nothing, of course. It had to be
+lying noise; it could be nothing else. A meeting such as this was not
+meant to communicate truth, but to discern an opponent's attitude and to
+try to hide one's own.
+
+"Let it suffice to say," the Red leader went on, "that we know more
+about you than you know about us. Our system has changed. A century ago,
+our continent suffered a blight of dogmatism and senseless butchery such
+as the world had never seen. Obviously, such conditions cannot endure.
+They did not. There was strong reaction and revolution within the
+framework of the old system. We have achieved a workable technological
+aristocratism, based on an empirical approach to problems. We realize
+that the final power is in the hands of the people--and I use that
+archaic word in preference to your 'rabble'--"
+
+"Are you trying to convert me to something?" John Smith growled acidly.
+
+"Not at all. I'm telling you our position." He paused for a moment, then
+inserted his fingertips under the edge of the mask. "Here is probably
+the best way to tell you."
+
+The Red leader ripped off the mask, revealing an impassive Oriental face
+with deepset black eyes and a glowering frown. The President sucked in
+his breath. It was unthinkable, that a man should expose himself to ...
+but then, that was what he was trying to prove wasn't it?
+
+He kicked a foot-switch to kill the microphone circuit, and spoke
+quickly to the Stand-ins, knowing that the Asian could not see his lips
+move behind the golden mask.
+
+"Is Security Section guarding against spy circuits?"
+
+"Yes, John."
+
+"Then quick, get out of the room, all of you! Join the Secondaries."
+
+"But John, it'll leave you fingered! If nine of us leave, they'll know
+that the remaining one is--"
+
+"Get on your masks and get out! I'm going to take mine off."
+
+"But John--!"
+
+"Move, Subversive!"
+
+"You don't need to curse," the Stand-in muttered. The nine men, out of
+the camera's field, donned golden helmets identical to Smith's, whistled
+six notes to the audio-combination, then slipped out the thick steel
+door as it clicked and came open.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Red was jeering at him quietly. "Afraid to take off your mask,
+President? The rabble? Or your self-appointed Stand-ins? Which frightens
+you, President--"
+
+John Smith plucked at a latch under his chin, and the golden headdress
+came apart down the sides. He lifted it off and laid it casually aside,
+revealing a hard, blocky face, slightly in need of a shave, with cool
+blue eyes and blond brows. His hair was graying slightly at the temples,
+with a fortyish hairline.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Red nodded. "Greetings, human. I doubted that you would."
+
+"Why not?" growled Smith.
+
+"Because you fear your Stand-ins, as appointees, not subject to your
+'rabble'. Our ruling clique selects its own members, but they are
+subject to popular approval or recall by referendum. I fear nothing from
+them."
+
+"Let's not compare our domestic forms, Peoplesfriend."
+
+"I wanted to point out," the Asian continued calmly, "that your system
+slipped into what it is without realizing it. A bad was allowed to grow
+worse. We, however were reacting against unreasonableness and stupidity
+within our own system. In the year 2001--"
+
+"I am aware of your history before the Big Silence. May we discuss
+pertinent matters--?"
+
+The Asian stared at him sharply. The frown grew deeper. The black eyes
+looked haughty. "If you _really_ want to discuss something, John Smith,
+suppose we arrange a personal meeting in a non-walled, neutral region?
+Say, Antarctica?"
+
+John Smith XVI, unaccustomed to dealing without a mask, let surprise
+fill his face before he caught himself. The Asian chuckled but said
+nothing. The President studied the border of the teleview screen for a
+moment.
+
+"I shall have to consider your proposal," he said dully.
+
+The Peoplesfriend nodded curtly, then suggested a time for the next
+interview. Smith revised it ahead to gain more time, and agreement was
+reached. The screen went blank; the interview was at an end. The
+Sixteenth Smith took a slow, worried breath, then slowly donned the mask
+of office again. He summoned the nine Primaries immediately.
+
+"That was dangerous, John," one of them warned him as they entered. "You
+may regret it. They knew you were in here alone. We're not all identical
+from the neck-down you know. When we come out, they might compare--"
+
+He cut the man off with a curt gesture. "No time. We're in a bad
+situation. Maybe worse than I guess." He began pacing the floor and
+staring down at the metallifiber rug as he spoke. "He knows more about
+us than he should. It took me awhile to realize that he's speaking our
+latest language variations. A language changes idiom in forty years, and
+slang. He's got the latest phrases. 'Greetings, human' is one, like a
+rabbleman says when somebody softens up."
+
+"Spies?"
+
+"Maybe a whole network. I don't see how they could get them through the
+Wall, but--maybe it's not so hard. Antarctic's open, as he pointed out."
+
+"What can we do about it, John?"
+
+Smith stopped pacing, popped his knuckles hard, stared at them.
+"Assemble Congress. Security-probe. It's the only answer. Let the
+'Rabble's Parliament' run their own inquisition. They were always good
+at purging themselves. Start a big spy-scare, and keep it in the
+channels. I'll lead with a message to the rabble." He paused, the
+tragedy mask gaping at them. "You won't like this, but I'm having the
+Stand-ins probed too. The Presidency is not immune."
+
+A muttering of indignation. Some of them went white. No one protested
+however.
+
+"No witch-hunt in this group, however," he assured them. "I'll veto
+anything that looks unfair for the Primaries, but--" He paused and rang
+the word again. "--_but_--there will be no leniency tolerated from here
+on down. If Congress thinks it's found a spy, it can execute him on the
+spot--and I won't lift a finger. This has got to be rooted out and
+burned."
+
+He began to pace again. He began barking crisp orders for specific
+details of the probe, or rather, for the campaign that would start the
+probe. The rabble were better at witch-hunts than a government was.
+Congress had not been assembled for fifteen years, since there had been
+nothing suspicious to investigate, but once it was called to duty, heads
+would roll--some of them literally. If some innocent people were hurt,
+the rabble could only blame themselves, for their own enthusiasm in
+ruthlessly searching out the underground enemy. Smith couldn't worry
+about that. If an Asian spy-system were operating in the continent, it
+had to be crushed quickly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When he had outlined the propaganda and string-pulling plans for them,
+he turned to the other matter--the Red leader's boast of ability to
+conquer the West.
+
+"It's probably foolish talk, but we don't know their present psychology.
+Double production on our most impressive weapons. Give the
+artificial-satellite program all the money it wants, and get them moving
+on it. I want a missile-launching site in space before the end of the
+year. Pay particular attention to depopulation weapons for use against
+industrial areas. We may have to strike in a hurry. We've been
+fools--coasting this way, feeling secure behind the Wall."
+
+"You're _not_ contemplating another peace-effort, John?" gasped an
+elderly Stand-in.
+
+"I'm contemplating survival!" the leader snapped. "I don't know that
+we're in serious danger, but if it takes a peace-effort to make sure,
+then we'll start one. So fast it'll knock out their industry before they
+know we've hit them." He stood frozen for a moment, the mask lifted
+proudly erect. "By Ike, I love the West! And it's not going to suffer
+any creeping eruption while I'm at its head!"
+
+When the President had finished and was ready to leave, the others
+started donning their masks again.
+
+"Just a minute," he grunted. "Number Six."
+
+One of the men, about the President's size and build, looked up quickly.
+"Yes, John?"
+
+"Your cloak is stained at the left shoulder. Grease?"
+
+Six inspected it curiously, then nodded. "I was inspecting a machine
+shop, and--"
+
+"Never mind. Trade cloaks with me."
+
+"Why, if--" Six stopped. His face lost color. "But the others--might
+have--"
+
+"Precisely."
+
+Six unclasped it slowly and handed it to the Sixteenth Smith, accepting
+the President's in return. His face was set in rigid lines, but he made
+no further protest.
+
+Masked and prepared, a Stand-in whistled a tune to the door, which had
+changed its combination since the last time. The tumblers clicked, and
+they walked out into a large auditorium containing two hundred Secondary
+Stand-ins, all wearing the official mask.
+
+If a Secondary ever wanted to assassinate the President, one shot would
+give him a single chance in ten as they filed through the door.
+
+"Mill about!" bellowed a Sergeant-at-Arms, and the two hundred began
+wandering among themselves in the big room, a queer porridge, stirred
+clumsily but violently. The Primaries and the President lost themselves
+in the throng. For ten minutes the room milled and circulated.
+
+"Unmask!" bellowed the crier.
+
+The two hundred and ten promptly removed their helmets and placed them
+on the floor. The President was unmasked and unknown--unmarked except by
+a certain physical peculiarity that could be checked only by a
+physician, in case the authenticity of the presidential person was
+challenged, as it frequently was.
+
+Then the Secondaries went out to lose themselves in a larger throng of
+Tertiaries, and the group split randomly to take the various underground
+highways to their homes.
+
+The President entered his house in the suburbs of Dia City, hugged the
+children, and kissed his wife.
+
+John Smith was profoundly disturbed. During the years of the Big
+Silence, a feeling of uneasy security had evolved. The Federation had
+been in isolation too long, and the East had become a mysterious
+unknown. The Presidency had oscillated between suspicious unease and
+smug confidence, depending perhaps upon the personality of the
+particular president more than anything else. The mysteriousness of the
+foe had been used politically to good advantage by every president
+selected to office, and the Sixteenth Smith had intended to so use it.
+But now he vaguely regretted it.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The tenure of office was still four years, and he could not help feeling
+that if he had maintained the intercontinental silence, he would not
+have had to worry about the spy-matter. If the hemisphere had been
+infiltrated, the subversive work had not begun yesterday. It had
+probably been going on for years, during several administrations, and
+the plans of the East, if any, would perhaps not come to a climax for
+several more years. He felt himself in the position of a man who
+suffered no pain as yet, but learned that he had an incurable disease.
+Why did he have to find out?
+
+But now that the danger was apparent, he had to go ahead and fight it
+instead of allowing it to pass on to the next John Smith.
+
+He made a stirring speech to Congress when it convened. The cowled
+figures of the people's representatives sat like gloomy gray shadows in
+the tiers of seats around the great amphitheatre under the night sky;
+the symbolic torches threw fluttering black shadows among their ranks.
+The sight always made him shiver. Their cowls and robes had been
+affected during the last great peace-effort, at which time they had been
+impregnated with lead to protect against bomb-radiation, but the garb of
+office had endured for ceremonial reasons.
+
+There was still a Senate and a House, the former acting chiefly as an
+investigating body, the latter serving a legislative function in
+accordance with the rabble-code, which no longer applied to the
+Executive, being chiefly concerned with matters of rabble morals and
+police-functions. Its duties could mostly be handled by mail and
+televiewphone voting, so that it seldom convened in the physical sense.
+
+President John quoted freely from the Declaration of Independence, the
+Gettysburg Address, the MacArthur Speech to Congress, and the immortal
+words of the first John Smith in his _Shall We Submit?_ which began: "If
+thy brother the son of thy mother, or thy son, or daughters, or thy
+wife, or thy friend whom thou lovest, would persuade thee secretly,
+saying, 'Let us go and serve strange gods', neither let thy eyes spare
+him nor conceal him, but thou shalt presently put him to death!"
+
+The speech was televised to the rabble, and for that matter, one of the
+Stand-ins delivered the actual address to protect the President who was
+present on the platform among the ranks of Primaries and Secondaries,
+although not even these officials were aware of it. The address was
+honestly an emotional one, not bothering with any attempt at logical
+analysis. None was needed. Congress was always eager to investigate
+subversion. It was good political publicity, and about the only
+congressional activity that could command public attention and interest.
+The cheers were rousing and prolonged. When it was over, the Speaker and
+the President of the Senate both made brief addresses to set the
+machinery in motion.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+John Smith watched the proceedings with deep satisfaction. But as time
+wore on, he began to wonder how many spies were truly being apprehended.
+Among the many thousands who were brought to justice, only sixty-nine
+actually confessed to espionage, and over half of them, upon being
+subjected to psychiatric examination, proved to be neurotic
+publicity-seekers who would have confessed to anything sufficiently
+dramatic. Twenty-seven of them were psychiatrically cleared, but even
+so, their stories broke down when questioned under hypnosis or hypnotic
+drugs, except for seven who, although constantly maintaining their
+guilt, could not substantiate one another's claims, nor furnish any
+evidence which might lead to the discovery of a well-organized espionage
+network. John Smith was baffled.
+
+He was particularly baffled by the disappearance of seventeen men in key
+positions, who, upon being mentioned as possible candidates for the
+probe, immediately vanished into thin air, leaving no trace. It seemed
+to Smith, upon reading the individual reports, that many of them would
+have been absolved before their cases got beyond the deputy level, so
+flimsy were the accusations made against them. But they had not waited
+to find out. Two were obviously guilty of _something_. One had murdered
+a deputy who came to question him, then fled in a private plane, last
+seen heading out to sea. He had apparently run out of fuel over the
+ocean and crashed. The second man, an ordnance officer at the proving
+ground, had spectacularly committed suicide by exploding an atomic
+artillery shell, vaporizing himself and certain key comrades including
+his superior officer.
+
+Here, the President felt, was something really ominous. The
+disappearances and the suicides spelled careful discipline and planning.
+Their records had been impeccable. The accusations seemed absurd. If
+they were agents, they had done nothing but sit in their positions and
+wait for an appointed time. The possibilities were frightening, but
+evidence was inconclusive and led nowhere. Nevertheless, the
+house-cleaning continued.
+
+On Fourthday of Traffic Safety Week, which was also Eat More
+Corn-Popsies Week, John Smith XVI conferred with Ivan Ivanovitch IX
+again at the appointed time. Contrary to all traditions, he again
+ordered the Stand-ins--temporarily eight in number, since Number Six had
+died mysteriously in the bathtub--to leave the study so that he might
+unmask. Promptly at sixteen o'clock the Asian's face--or rather his
+ceremonial mask--came on the screen. But seeing the Westerner's
+square-cut visage smiling at him sourly, he promptly removed the
+covering to reveal his Oriental face. The exchange of greetings was
+curt.
+
+"I see by recent events," said Ivan, "that you are nervous on your
+throne. For the sake of your own people, let me warn you that we have no
+designs on your autonomy unless you become aggressive toward us. The
+real difficulty, as revealed by your purge, is that you feel insecure,
+and insecurity makes you unpredictable. I do not, of course, expect you
+to be trustworthy. But insecurity sometimes breeds impulsiveness. If you
+are to strike out blindly, perhaps the talks had best be broken off."
+
+Smith XVI reddened angrily but held his temper. The man's presumption
+was intolerable. Further, he knew about the probe, knowledge which could
+only come from espionage.
+
+"I have become aware," the President said firmly, "that you have managed
+to establish a spy-system on this continent. If you wish better
+relations, you will have the activity stop at once."
+
+"I don't know what you're talking about," said the Peoplesfriend with a
+bland smile. "I might point out however that at least forty of your
+spies are either killed while trying to cross the Wall, or are
+apprehended after they manage to enter my regime."
+
+"The accusation is too ridiculous to deny," Smith lied. "We have no
+desire to pry into your activities. We wish only to maintain the status
+quo."
+
+The exchange continued, charges and countercharges and denials. Neither
+side expected truth or honesty, and the game was as old as civilization.
+Neither expected to be believed, although the press of both nations
+would heatedly condemn the other's lack of good faith. The ethical side
+of the affair was for the rabble to consider, for only the rabble cared
+about such things. The real task was to ferret out the enemy's attitudes
+and intentions without revealing one's own.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Smith felt that he had won a little, and lost a little too. He had found
+many hints of subversive activity, but had betrayed his own lack of
+certainty by reacting so swiftly to it. Ivan IX, on the other hand,
+seemed too much at ease, too secure, and even impertinent.
+
+"At our last meeting," said the Asian, "I suggested a meeting between
+ourselves. Have you given thought to the matter?"
+
+"I have given it thought," said the President, "and will agree to the
+proposal provided you come to this country. The meeting will be held at
+my capitol."
+
+"Which you change at random intervals, I notice," purred Ivan with a
+bland smile. "For security reasons?"
+
+"You could only know that by espionage!" Smith snapped.
+
+"Your proposal of course is outrageous. The only sensible place for the
+meeting is in Singapore."
+
+"That is out of the question. I must insist on the capitol of my
+government as the only acceptable meeting-place. My government in
+contacting yours put itself in the position of extending an invitation,
+a position from which we could not depart without loss of dignity."
+
+"I suggest we delay the matter then," grunted the Peoplesfriend. "And
+talk about the agenda for such a meeting. What did you have in mind?"
+
+"I have already stated our general aims as being a reduction of armament
+expenses, beneficial to both sides. I think you agree?"
+
+"Not necessarily, since our budget is already rather low. However, make
+your specific proposals, and I shall consider them. Further economy,
+where not injurious to security, is always desirable."
+
+"I propose, then, that we discuss a method whereby agreement might be
+reached on a plan to divulge the nature of our respective armaments,
+including number, nature, and purpose of each weapon-class, as a
+foundation for discussions relating to reductions."
+
+Smith waited for a flat "no" to the suggestion. The Asian leader
+apparently knew a great deal more about the West's armaments than Smith
+knew about the East. The Peoplesfriend had nothing to gain by revealing
+the military strength of his own hemisphere. But he paused, watching
+Smith with an expressionless stare.
+
+"I accept that for further consideration, at least," Ivan said at last.
+
+John XVI hovered between elation and suspicion. Suspicion won. "Of
+course there must be some method to assure that accurate figures are
+divulged."
+
+"That could probably be settled."
+
+Again the President was shocked. It was all too easy. Something was
+rotten about the whole thing. The Peoplesfriend agreed too readily to
+things that seemed to be to his disadvantage. The discussion continued
+for several hours, during which both men presented viewpoints and
+postponed agreement until a later meeting.
+
+"Stockpiles of fissionable material," said the President, "which could
+quickly be converted to weapons use should also be discussed."
+
+Ivan frowned. "I mentioned before that we have no need of atomic
+armaments, nor any plans for building them. Our defense is secured by
+something entirely different, a weapon which serves an industrial
+function in time of peace, and a weapon which I might add was largely
+responsible for our abandoning Marxism. A single discovery, Andrei
+Sorkin's, made communist doctrine not only a wrong solution, but a wrong
+solution to a problem that had ceased to exist."
+
+"What problem are you referring to?"
+
+"The use of human beings as automatic devices in a corporate
+machine--the social-structure of industry, in which the worker was
+caught and bolted down and expected to perform a single, highly
+specialized task. That of course, is almost a definition of the word
+'proletarian'. We no longer have a true proletariat. For that reason, we
+are no longer Marxist--although the name 'communist' has survived with
+its meaning changed."
+
+The conference ended after setting the time for another meeting. John
+Smith XVI felt that he had been groping in the dark, because of the
+information-vacuum that kept him from even making a reasonable guess as
+to Ivan's real aims. He kept feeling vaguely that Ivan was just playing
+along, reacting according to the opportunity of the moment, not
+particularly caring what Smith did next. But leaders of states just did
+not proceed so carelessly--not unless they were fools, or unless they
+were supremely confident in the ultimate outcome.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The intelligence service analysis of his latest conversation with Ivan
+gave him something to think about later however. Andrei Sorkin had been
+a physicist who had done considerable work in crystal-structure before
+the Big Silence had cut off knowledge of his activities from the West.
+Further, the Peoplesfriend's references to industrial usage, coupled
+with his remarks about specialized labor, seemed to suggest that the
+East had made great strides in servo-mechanisms and auto-control
+devices. But control devices were not weapons in themselves. Electronic
+rocket-pilots were not weapons unless there were rockets for them to
+fly. Automatic target-trackers were not weapons unless they guided a
+weapon to shoot at the target. It made little sense; he concluded that
+Ivan had not meant it to make much sense. Smith could only interpret it
+as meaning: "Our weapons are marvelously controlled; therefore we need
+fewer of them."
+
+On the probe front, events were about as usual. The lists of suspects
+and convictions grew bulky enough to keep a large office staff busy with
+details. More sinister, in the President's judgment, was the small list
+of suspects who vanished or committed suicide at the slightest hint of
+suspicion. The list grew at a slow but steady pace. John assumed that
+these were certainly guilty. And thorough, searching inquiries into
+their past activities were made. These post mortem probes revealed
+nothing. Their records were clean. Their families, friends, relatives,
+and even their ancestors were above suspicion. If they had sold out to
+the enemy, they had given him nothing in return for his wages except
+perhaps a promise to be fulfilled on a Deadline Day.
+
+He called the Secretary of Defense and demanded a screening procedure be
+adopted for future personnel, a procedure which would be aimed at
+selecting men with fanatic loyalty, rather than merely guarding against
+treason.
+
+"We seem to already have something," murmured the Secretary, a slender,
+graying gentleman with aristocratic features. "The incidents at the
+satellite-project seem to indicate that there's something they don't
+like about our ordinary testing methods."
+
+"Eh? How do you mean?"
+
+"Three men--volunteers for the project--vanished as soon as they found
+out that they had to submit to all the physicals, mental tests, and so
+forth. I don't know what they were afraid of. They were already on the
+reservation. Found out they'd have to be tested again, and vanished. One
+a known suicide, but the body's still in the river."
+
+"'Tested _again_'?" the President echoed.
+
+"That's right, John. They'd gone through it before. This was just a
+recheck for this particular project. Of course, I don't _know_ that they
+were agents."
+
+"Mmm! So they can't stand a recheck. All right, recheck everybody."
+
+"John! A third of the population works for the government!"
+
+"I mean everybody connected with new projects, the most important
+installations. This might be a weapon for us."
+
+When he received the Secretary's report a week later, John grinned
+happily. The rechecks had begun, and the disappearances were mounting.
+But the grin faded when he read the rest of it. Two of the men had been
+caught attempting to escape. They had been lodged in a local jail to
+await transfer to the capitol. During the night, the jailer became aware
+of a blinding light from the cell-blocks and the stench of burnt organic
+matter. By the time he reached their cells, the men were gone, and there
+were only sickening fumes, charred ashes, and a pair of red-hot patches
+on the floor. Somehow they had gotten incendiary materials into their
+cells, and the cremation was complete--too complete to be credible.
+
+Then the disappearances began to taper off--until finally, after a few
+weeks, they ceased completely. He wondered: were the culprits all
+ferreted out, or had some of them managed to get around the rechecks?
+
+He had spoken to the Asian leader several times, and Ivan was growing
+curt, even bitingly nasty at times. The President hopefully interpreted
+it as a sign that his probe was successful enough to worry the Red. He
+tried to strengthen his position with respect to the proposed
+conferences, and made only minor concessions such as agreeing to a
+coastal city in Mexico as the site, rather than the shifting capitol.
+Ivan sneeringly made equally minute adjustments eastward from Singapore.
+There was apparently going to be a deadlock, and John was somehow not
+sorry.
+
+Then the cold-eyed face on the screen did an abrupt about-face, and
+announced, "I propose that the delegates, including the leaders of both
+states, meet at a site of your selection in either of the neutral polar
+regions, not later than Seventhday of Veto Week--which, I think is your
+Fried Pie Week?--and come prepared to discuss and exchange information
+relating to size of armament-inventories and future plans. This is my
+last proposal."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+They stared at each other coldly. John started to utter a refusal, then
+paused. Seventhday of ... it was one day before the satellite program
+began moving into space. If he could keep the Eastern Leader tied up for
+a few weeks afterwards--
+
+"I'll consider your proposal and give you a reply tomorrow," he said
+bluntly.
+
+The Peoplesfriend gave him a curt nod and clicked off the screen. John
+chuckled. The enemy's espionage program was evidently getting badly
+hurt. About one percent of the West's population had been executed,
+imprisoned, or shifted to other jobs as a result of the congressional
+probe. The one percent probably included quite a few guilty citizens.
+
+"Rodner, I want a Strike-Day set, a full-scale blitz-operation readied
+as soon as possible," he told the defense-chief. "I know that a lot of
+your target information is forty years old, but work out the best plan
+you can. A depopulation strike, perhaps; there are only two opinions in
+the world, so 'world-opinion' is not one of the things we need to
+consider."
+
+The Defense Secretary caught his breath and sat stiffly erect. "War?" he
+gasped.
+
+"Don't use that word."
+
+"Sorry, peace-effort."
+
+"No. At least I hope not. I want a gun aimed at them as a bargaining
+point. But I want it to be a damned _big_ gun, and one that's capable of
+shattering every major city in the East on a few hours' notice. How
+effective could you make it--if you had to?"
+
+The Secretary frowned doubtfully and tugged at his ear. "Well, John, our
+strategic command has kept a running plan in effect, revising it to
+allow for every tidbit of information we can get. Planning continental
+blitzes is a favorite past-time around high-level strategic commands; it
+keeps the boys in trim. A plan could probably be agreed upon in a very
+short time, but its nature would depend on your earliest deadline date."
+
+"Two dates," grunted the tragedy-mask. "The first is Seventhday, Fried
+Pie Week. I want a maximum possible effort readied by then, with a plan
+that allows for a possible stand-by at that date, and a continued
+build-up to a greater maximum--to be reached when the satellite station
+is in space and ready for battle. Include the station in the extended
+plan."
+
+"This is a very dangerous business, John."
+
+The mask whirled. "Do you presume to--?"
+
+"No, Sir. The strike-effort will be prepared as soon as possible." He
+bowed slightly, then left the presidential study-vault.
+
+Smith turned to gaze at his Stand-ins. "You will go," he said, "all of
+you, to the examining authorities for the standard loyalty tests and
+psych-phys rechecks."
+
+The nine masked figures glanced at one another in surprise, then nodded.
+There were no protests. The following day he had only seven Stand-ins;
+Four and Eight had been trapped in a burning building on the outskirts
+of the rabble city, and their remains had not been found.
+
+Smith kept a tight cork on his rage, but it seethed inside him and
+threatened to burn through as the time approached to speak again with
+Ivan Ivanovitch IX. The enemy's infiltration into the very ranks of the
+Presidency robbed him even of dignity. Furthermore, now that the two
+scoundrels were uncovered, and dead, he remembered a very unpleasant but
+significant fact: he had, even before his "election" by the rabble,
+discussed the televiewphone conferences with the Primaries. The idea of
+contacting Ivan had started, as most ideas start, from some small seed
+or other that could scarcely be remembered, some off-hand reference to
+the costly aspects of the Big Silence perhaps, and it had grown into the
+plan for contact. _But how_ had the idea first come to him? Had one of
+the guilty Stand-ins perhaps planted the seed in his mind? _After_ he
+proposed it, they had seemed demurring at first, but not too long.
+
+Grimly, he realized that the idea might have originated on the far side
+of the Pacific.
+
+"Who, pray, is the potter, and who the pot?" he grunted, glowering at
+the nearest Stand-in.
+
+"I beg your pardon?" answered the man, who could not see the glower for
+the mask.
+
+"Khayyam, you fool!"
+
+"Oh--"
+
+"_Sixteen o'clock!_" cheeped the timepiece on the wall. "_Fifthday,
+Anti-Rabies Week, Practice-Eugenics Week; Happy 2073; Peep!_"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Ivan came on the screen, but John did not bother to remove his mask. He
+sat down quickly and began speaking before any greeting could be
+exchanged.
+
+"I have decided to accept your last proposal. I specify the meeting
+place as the deserted weather station at the old settlement of Tharviana
+in the Byrd-Ellsworth Sector of Antarctica. Date to be Seventhday of
+Fried Pie Week. Advance cadres of personnel from both sides should meet
+at the site two weeks earlier to make repairs and preparations. Do you
+agree?"
+
+Ivan nodded impatiently, his dark eyes watching the President closely.
+Smith went on to suggest limits for the size of both cadres, their
+equipment, and the kind of transportation. Ivan made only one
+suggestion: that the details, such as permissible arms and standards of
+conduct, be left to the cadre commanders to settle between themselves
+before the leaders' parties arrived.
+
+"Your continual espionage activities," Smith said coldly, "do not
+recommend your government as one to be trusted in the matter of
+agreements without guarantees. My cadre commander will be instructed as
+to details."
+
+The Asian grunted. "You speak of trust, yet violate it in advance by
+preparing an assault against us."
+
+They glared at each other. After a few more words, the conversation
+ended abruptly, and the matter was tentatively settled.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was Antarctic Summer. The sun lay low in the north, but clouds
+threatened to obscure it, and a forbidding coastline hulked under the
+ugly sky. A small group of ships sulked to the east, and watched another
+group that sulked to the west. Two rows of buoys marked an ice-free
+strip across the choppy face of the sea.
+
+A speck appeared in the north, grew larger, became a giant sea-plane. It
+circled once, then swooped majestically down between the rows of buoys,
+its atomic-fired jets breathing heat over the water. It slid between
+streamers of spray until slowly it came to a coasting halt and rode on
+the rise and the fall of the sea. A section of its back rolled open. It
+pushed a helicopter up into view. The helicopter unfolded its rotors,
+spun them, then climbed lazily aloft like a beetle that had ridden the
+eagle. It soared, and travelled inland. The sea-plane taxied west to
+join one group of ships.
+
+The helicopter landed near a long, windowless concrete building which
+lay in the shadow of an old control-tower's skeleton. The tower was
+twisted awry, and the concrete was pock-marked by shrapnel or bullets
+dating back to one of the peace-efforts. The President, two Stand-ins,
+and the pilot climbed from the helicopter. A small detachment of troops
+presented arms. The cadre commander, a major general, approached the
+delegation formally, gave it a salute, and took the President's hand.
+
+"The Peoplesfriend is already in the conference hall, Sir, with several
+of his aides. Do you wish to enter now, or--"
+
+"Where are their troops?"
+
+"Over there, Sir. As you know, we could not agree to completely disarm
+the site. Only inside the building itself."
+
+"Any unpleasantness?"
+
+"No, sir. Their men are well-disciplined."
+
+"Then let's go and get started. I assume that you're in constant contact
+with the capitol?"
+
+"Yes, Sir. Televiewphone relay chain all the way up."
+
+John looked around. The Peoplesfriend's helicopter was parked not far
+away, and beyond it stood a platoon of the Peoplesfriend's troops,
+lightly armed as his own.
+
+An Asian and a Western guard flanked the entrance to the building, but
+their only weapons were police-clubs. The party entered slowly and stood
+for a moment just inside the heavy door that swung closed behind them.
+John Smith removed his mask.
+
+"Greetings, human."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The dull voice called it from the far end of the gloomy hall where Ivan
+Ivanovitch IX sat facing him, flanked by a pair of aides, at a long,
+plain table. John Smith XVI advanced with dignity toward him. Curt bows
+were exchanged, but no handshakes. The Western delegation took their
+seats.
+
+John nudged the Stand-in on his right, who immediately opened a
+portfolio to extract a sheaf of papers.
+
+"Would you care to exchange prepared statements to begin with?" Smith
+asked coolly.
+
+"We have no--" The Peoplesfriend stopped, smirked coldly at his deputies
+but continued to frown. He peered thoughtfully at his huge knuckles for
+a moment, then nodded slowly. "A statement--_yes_."
+
+John slid a section of the sheaf of papers to the Peoplesfriend. The Red
+leader ignored them, spoke to a deputy curtly.
+
+"Give me a sheet of paper."
+
+The deputy fumbled in a thin briefcase, shook his head and muttered.
+Finally he found a dog-eared sheet with only a few lines typed across
+the top. He glanced questioningly at his leader. Ivan snatched it with a
+low grunt, tore off the good half, produced a stubby, gnawed pencil, and
+wrote slowly as if his hands were cramped with arthritis. John could see
+the big block-letters but not the words.
+
+"My prepared statement," said the Peoplesfriend.
+
+With that he pushed the scrap of paper across the table. John stared,
+and felt the blood leaving his face. The prepared statement said:
+
+_I VETO YOU._
+
+"Is this a joke?" he growled, keeping his voice calm. "You cannot mean
+that you reject proposals before they are made? I fail to see the humor
+in--"
+
+"There is no humor."
+
+John pushed back his chair, glanced at his men. "Gentlemen, it would
+appear that we have come to the bottom of the world for nothing. I think
+we had better retire to discuss--"
+
+"Sit down," the Asian growled.
+
+"Why--" The President stopped. One of the Red deputies had produced a
+gun. He sat, and stared coldly at the eastern leader. "Have your man
+dispose of that weapon. This is a conference table."
+
+The Peoplesfriend grunted an order to the other deputy instead. "Search
+them."
+
+"Stay back," Smith droned. "I can kill you all quite easily."
+
+The deputy hesitated. The leader started laughing, then checked it. "May
+I ask how?"
+
+John smiled. "Stay back, or you will find out too quickly." He unzipped
+his heavy Arctic clothing, removed a heavy container, shaped to conform
+to his chest, and laid it on the table. A cord ran from the container
+into his sleeve.
+
+The Peoplesfriend laughed. "High explosives? You would not set them off.
+However--Jacob, let them keep their weapons. This will be over shortly."
+
+They glared at each other for a moment.
+
+"There is no conference?"
+
+"There is no conference."
+
+"Then why this farce?"
+
+The eastern leader wore a tight smile. He glanced at his watch, began
+counting backwards: "Seven, six, five, four--"
+
+When he reached zero, there was a long pause; then a sharp whistle from
+outside.
+
+"Your men are now disarmed," said the Asian. "Your cadre commander is
+ours."
+
+"Impossible! The recheck--"
+
+"He joined us since the recheck. Further, three of your televiewphone
+stations in the relay chain are ours, and are relaying recorded
+broadcasts prepared especially for the purpose."
+
+"I don't believe it!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Asian shrugged. "In addition, your entire defense system will be in
+our hands within six days--while your nation imagines that we are here
+conferring on disarmament."
+
+"Ridiculous!" the President sputtered. "No system of infiltration or
+subversion could--"
+
+"Your people were not subverted, Smith. They were merely replaced by
+ours. Your two Stand-ins, for instance, the ones that died in the fire.
+They were not the original men."
+
+"You could not possibly find exact doubles--" Something about the
+Asian's smile made his voice taper off.
+
+He picked up the container of explosives and prepared to rise. "I am
+going to walk out. And you are going with me. We will return in a
+helicopter to my plane. Let me explain this mechanism. I have no control
+over the detonator, for it is not a suicide device. The detonator can be
+triggered only by either of two events."
+
+"Which are?" The Peoplesfriend was smiling.
+
+"The relay would be closed by a sudden drop in my arterial pressure. Or
+by an attempt to remove it without knowing how. I am going out, and you
+are going with me."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Because I am about to reach in my pocket and produce a gun. Your deputy
+cannot shoot without blasting a fifty-foot crater where this building
+now rests." Gingerly, while he watched the wavering deputy, he made good
+the promise. He kept the snub-nosed automatic aimed at the easterner's
+belly.
+
+But the Peoplesfriend continued to smile. "May I say something before we
+_go_?"
+
+There was a sour mockery about it that made Smith pause. He nodded
+slowly.
+
+"I hoped to keep you here alive, so that we would not have to destroy
+the whole mission, including the ships. Of course, when the building is
+blown up, your little fleet will see and hear and try to respond, and we
+shall have to destroy it before word can be gotten to your capital. Our
+plans included that possibility, but it is unfortunate."
+
+"Our aircraft will--"
+
+"You do not seem to realize the nature of our weapons yet. And there is
+no harm in telling you now, I suppose."
+
+"Well?"
+
+"We have a microscopic crystalline relay, so small that millions of them
+can be packed into a few cubic inches. The crystals are minute
+tetrahedrons, with each pointed corner an electrical contact. And there
+is a method for arranging them in circuits without individual attention
+to each connection. It involves certain techniques in electro-plating
+and the growing of crystals."
+
+Smith glanced questioningly at one of his Stand-ins, a weapons expert.
+The man shook his head.
+
+"I can see," he muttered, "how it might replace a lot of bulky circuit
+elements in some electronics work--particularly computers and
+servo-mechanisms--but--"
+
+"Indeed," said Ivan, "We have built many so-called 'thinking-machines'
+no larger than a human brain."
+
+"For self-piloting weapons, I suppose?" asked the Stand-in.
+
+"For self-piloting weapons."
+
+"I fail to see how this could do what you seem to think."
+
+The Peoplesfriend snorted. "Jacob--?" He nodded to the deputy, who
+immediately fumbled in his pocket, found a penknife, opened it, and
+handed it to Ivan.
+
+He laid his finger on the table. He cut it off at the second joint with
+the penknife. There was no blood. Flesh of soft plastic. Tendons of
+nylon. Bones of bakelite.
+
+"Our leader," the robot said, "is still in Singapore."
+
+The President looked at the robot and a great, weariness swept over him.
+Suddenly it all seemed futile--a senseless game, played by madmen,
+dancing over countless graves--playing tag among the tombstones.
+
+Check and checkmate. But always there was a way out. Never a final move.
+Life eternal and with life, the eternal plotting and scheming. And never
+a final victor.
+
+Almost regretfully, the President turned his mind back to the affair at
+hand.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Check and Checkmate, by Walter Miller
+
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