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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #51350 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51350)
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of No Substitutions, by Jim Harmon
-
-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/license
-
-
-Title: No Substitutions
-
-Author: Jim Harmon
-
-Release Date: March 3, 2016 [EBook #51350]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: ASCII
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NO SUBSTITUTIONS ***
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-Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
-Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
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-</pre>
-
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="401" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="titlepage">
-<h1>NO SUBSTITUTIONS</h1>
-
-<p>By JIM HARMON</p>
-
-<p>Illustrated by JOHNSON</p>
-
-<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br />
-Galaxy Magazine November 1958.<br />
-Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br />
-the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p class="ph3"><i>If it was happening to him, all right, he could<br />
-take that ... but what if he was happening to it?</i></p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>Putting people painlessly to sleep is really a depressing job. It
-keeps me awake at night thinking of all those bodies I have sent to
-the vaults, and it interferes to a marked extent with my digestion. I
-thought before Councilman Coleman came to see me that there wasn't much
-that could bother me worse.</p>
-
-<p>Coleman came in the morning before I was really ready to face the
-day. My nerves were fairly well shot from the kind of work I did as
-superintendent of Dreamland. I chewed up my pill to calm me down,
-the one to pep me up, the capsule to strengthen my qualities as a
-relentless perfectionist. I washed them down with gin and orange
-juice and sat back, building up my fortitude to do business over the
-polished deck of my desk.</p>
-
-<p>But instead of the usual morning run of hysterical relatives and
-masochistic mystics, I had to face one of my superiors from the
-Committee itself.</p>
-
-<p>Councilman Coleman was an impressive figure in a tailored black tunic.
-His olive features were set off by bristling black eyes and a mobile
-mustache. He probably scared most people, but not me. Authority doesn't
-frighten me any more. I've put to sleep too many megalomaniacs,
-dictators, and civil servants.</p>
-
-<p>"Warden Walker, I've been following your career with considerable
-interest," Coleman said.</p>
-
-<p>"My career hasn't been very long, sir," I said modestly. I didn't
-mention that <i>nobody</i> could last that long in my job. At least, none
-had yet.</p>
-
-<p>"I've followed it from the first. I know every step you've made."</p>
-
-<p>I didn't know whether to be flattered or apprehensive. "That's fine," I
-said. It didn't sound right.</p>
-
-<p>"Tell me," Coleman said, crossing his legs, "what do you think of
-Dreamland in principle?"</p>
-
-<p>"Why, it's the logical step forward in penal servitude. Man has been
-heading toward this since he first started civilizing himself. After
-all, some criminals <i>can't</i> be helped psychiatrically. We can't execute
-them or turn them free; we have to imprison them."</p>
-
-<p>I waited for Coleman's reaction. He merely nodded.</p>
-
-<p>"Of course, it's barbaric to think of a prison as a place of
-punishment," I continued. "A prison is a place to keep a criminal away
-from society for a specific time so he can't harm that society for that
-time. Punishment, rehabilitation, all of it is secondary to that. The
-purpose of confinement is confinement."</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>The councilman edged forward an inch. "And you really think Dreamland
-is the most humane confinement possible?"</p>
-
-<p>"Well," I hedged, "it's the most humane we've found yet. I suppose
-living through a&mdash;uh&mdash;movie with full sensory participation for year
-after year can get boring."</p>
-
-<p>"I should think so," Coleman said emphatically. "Warden, don't you
-sometimes feel the old system where the prisoners had the diversions
-of riots, solitary confinement, television, and jailbreaks may have
-made time easier to serve? Do these men ever think they are <i>actually</i>
-living these vicarious adventures?"</p>
-
-<p>That was a question that made all of us in the Dreamland service
-uneasy. "No, Councilman, they don't. They know they aren't really
-Alexander of Macedonia, Tarzan, Casanova, or Buffalo Bill. They are
-conscious of all the time that is being spent out of their real lives;
-they know they have relatives and friends outside the dream. They know,
-unless&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>Coleman lifted a dark eyebrow above a black iris. "Unless?"</p>
-
-<p>I cleared my throat. "Unless they go mad and really believe the dream
-they are living. But as you know, sir, the rate of madness among
-Dreamland inmates is only slightly above the norm for the population as
-a whole."</p>
-
-<p>"How do prisoners like that adjust to reality?"</p>
-
-<p>Was he deliberately trying to ask tough questions? "They don't. They
-think they are having some kind of delusion. Many of them become
-schizoid and pretend to go along with reality while secretly 'knowing'
-it to be a lie."</p>
-
-<p>Coleman removed a pocket secretary and broke it open. "About these new
-free-choice models&mdash;do you think they genuinely are an improvement over
-the old fixed-image machines?"</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, sir," I replied. "By letting the prisoner project his own
-imagination onto the sense tapes and giving him a limited amount of
-alternatives to a situation, we can observe whether he is conforming to
-society to a larger extent."</p>
-
-<p>"I'm glad you said that, Walker," Councilman Coleman told me warmly.
-"As I said, I've been following your career closely, and if you
-get through the next twenty-four-hour period as you have through
-the foregoing part of your Dream, you will be awakened at this time
-tomorrow. Congratulations!"</p>
-
-<p>I sat there and took it.</p>
-
-<p>He was telling <i>me</i>, the superintendent of Dreamland, that my own
-life here was only a Dream such as I fed to my own prisoners. It was
-unbelievably absurd, a queasy little joke of some kind. But I didn't
-deny it.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>If it <i>were</i> true, if I had forgotten that everything that happened was
-only a Dream, and if I admitted it, the councilman would know I was
-mad. <i>It couldn't be true.</i> Yet&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>Hadn't I thought about it ever since I had been appointed warden and
-transferred from my personnel job at the plant?</p>
-
-<p>Whenever I had come upon two people talking, and it seemed as if I had
-come upon those same two people talking the same talk before, hadn't I
-wondered for an instant if it couldn't be a Dream, not reality at all?</p>
-
-<p>Once I had experienced a Dream for five or ten minutes. I was driving
-a ground car down a spidery road made into a dismal tunnel by weeping
-trees, a dank, lavender maze. I had known at the time it was a Dream,
-but still, as the moments passed, I became more intent on the
-difficult road before me, my blocky hands on the steering wheel, thick
-fingers typing out the pattern of motion on the drive buttons.</p>
-
-<p>I could remember that. Maybe I couldn't remember being shoved into the
-prison vault for so many years for such and such a crime.</p>
-
-<p>I didn't really believe this, not then, but I couldn't afford to make
-a mistake, even if it were only some sort of intemperate test&mdash;as I
-was confident it was, with a sweet, throbbing fury against the man who
-would employ such a jagged broadsword for prying in his bureaucratic
-majesty.</p>
-
-<p>"I've always thought," I said, "that it would be a good idea to show
-a prisoner what the modern penal system was all about by giving him a
-Dream in which he dreamed about Dreamland itself."</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, indeed," Coleman concurred. Just that and no more.</p>
-
-<p>I leaned intimately across my beautiful oak desk. "I've thought that
-projecting officials into the Dream and letting them talk with the
-prisoners might be a more effective form of investigation than mere
-observation."</p>
-
-<p>"I should say so," Coleman remarked, and got up.</p>
-
-<p>I <i>had</i> to get more out of him, some proof, some clue beyond the
-preposterous announcement he had made.</p>
-
-<p>"I'll see you tomorrow at this time then, Walker." The councilman
-nodded curtly and turned to leave my office.</p>
-
-<p>I held onto the sides of my desk to keep from diving over and teaching
-him to change his concept of humor.</p>
-
-<p>The day was starting. If I got through it, giving a good show, I would
-be released from my Dream, he had said smugly.</p>
-
-<p>But if this was a dream, did I want probation to reality?</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Horbit was a twitchy little man whose business tunic was the same
-rodent color as his hair. He had a pronounced tic in his left cheek. "I
-have to get back," he told me with compelling earnestness.</p>
-
-<p>"Mr. Horbit&mdash;Eddie&mdash;" I said, glancing at his file projected on my desk
-pad, "I can't put you back into a Dream. You served your full time for
-your crime. The maximum."</p>
-
-<p>"But I haven't adjusted to society!"</p>
-
-<p>"Eddie, I can shorten sentences, but I can't expand them beyond the
-limit set by the courts."</p>
-
-<p>A tear of frustration spilled out of his left eye with the next twitch.
-"But Warden, sir, my psychiatrist said that I was unable to cope with
-reality. Come on now, Warden, you don't want a guy who can't cope with
-reality running around loose." He paused, puzzled. "Hell, I don't
-know why I can't express myself like I used to."</p>
-
-<p>He could express himself much better in his Dream. He had been Abraham
-Lincoln in his Dream, I saw. He had lived the life right up to the
-night when he was taking in <i>An American Cousin</i> at the Ford Theater.
-Horbit couldn't accept history that he had no more life to live. He
-only knew that if in his delirium he could gain Dreamland once more, he
-could get back to the hard realities of dealing with the problems of
-Reconstruction.</p>
-
-<p>"<i>Please</i>," he begged.</p>
-
-<p>I looked up from the file. "I'm sorry, Eddie."</p>
-
-<p>His eyes narrowed, both of them, on the next twitch. "Warden, I can
-always go out and commit another anti-social act."</p>
-
-<p>"I'm afraid not, Eddie. The file shows you are capable of only one
-crime. And you don't have a wife any more, and she doesn't have a
-lover."</p>
-
-<p>Horbit laughed. "Your files aren't infallible, Warden."</p>
-
-<p>With one gesture, he ripped open his tunic and tore into his own flesh.
-No, not his own flesh. Pseudo-flesh. He took out the gun that was
-underneath.</p>
-
-<p>"The beamer is made of X-ray-transparent plastic, Warden, but it works
-as well as one made of steel and lead."</p>
-
-<p>"Now that you've got it in here," I said in time with the pulse in my
-throat, "what are you going to do with it?"</p>
-
-<p>"I'm going to make you go down to the vaults and put me back to sleep,
-Warden."</p>
-
-<p>I nodded. "I suppose you can do that. But what's to prevent me from
-waking you up as soon as I've taken away your gun?"</p>
-
-<p>"This!" He tossed a sheet of paper onto my desk.</p>
-
-<p>"What's this?" I asked unnecessarily. I could read it.</p>
-
-<p>"A confession that you accepted a bribe to put me back to sleep,"
-Horbit said, his tic beating out a feverish tempo. "As soon as you've
-signed it, I'll use your phone to have it telefaxed to the Registrar of
-Private Documents."</p>
-
-<p>I had to admire the thought behind the idea. Horbit was convinced that
-I was only a figment of his unfocused imagination, but he was playing
-the game with uncompromising logic, trusting that even madness had hard
-and tight rules behind it.</p>
-
-<p>There was also something else I admired about the plan.</p>
-
-<p>It could work.</p>
-
-<p>Once he fed that document to the archives, I would be obligated to help
-him even without the gun. My word would probably be taken that I had
-been forced to do it at gunpoint, but there would always be doubts,
-enough to wreck my career when it came time for promotion.</p>
-
-<p>Nothing like this had ever happened in my years as warden.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Suddenly, Coleman's words hit me in the back of the neck. <i>If I got
-through the next twenty-four hours.</i> This had to be some kind of test.</p>
-
-<p>But a test for what?</p>
-
-<p>Had I been deliberately told that I was living only a Dream to see
-if my ethics would hold up even when I thought I wasn't dealing with
-reality?</p>
-
-<p>Or if this <i>was</i> only a Dream, was it a test to see if I was morally
-ready to return to the real, the earnest world?</p>
-
-<p>But if it was a test to see if I was ready for reality, did I want to
-pass it? My life was nerve-racking and mind-wrecking, but I liked the
-challenge&mdash;it was the only life I knew or could believe in.</p>
-
-<p>What was I going to do?</p>
-
-<p>The only thing I knew was that I couldn't tune in tomorrow and find out.</p>
-
-<p>The time was <i>now</i>.</p>
-
-<p>Horbit motioned the gun to my desk set. "Sign that paper."</p>
-
-<p>I reached out and took hold of his wrist. I squeezed.</p>
-
-<p>Horbit's screams brought in the guards.</p>
-
-<p>I picked up the gun from where he had dropped it and handed it to
-Captain Keller, my head guard, a tough old bird who wore his uniform
-like armor.</p>
-
-<p>"Trying to force his way back to the sleep tanks," I told Keller.</p>
-
-<p>He nodded. "Happened before. Back when old man Preston lost his grip."</p>
-
-<p>Preston had been my predecessor. He had lost his hold on reality like
-all the others before him who had served long as warden of Dreamland.
-A few had quit while they were still ahead and spent the rest of their
-lives recuperating. Our society didn't produce individuals tough enough
-to stand the strain of putting their fellow human beings to sleep for
-long.</p>
-
-<p>One of Keller's men had stabbed Horbit's arm with a hypospray to
-blanket the pain from his broken wrist, and the man was quieter.</p>
-
-<p>"I couldn't have done it, Warden," Horbit mumbled drowsily. "I couldn't
-kill anybody. Unless it was like that other time."</p>
-
-<p>"Of course, Eddie," I said.</p>
-
-<p>I had banked on that, hadn't I, when I made my move?</p>
-
-<p>Or did I?</p>
-
-<p>Wasn't it perhaps a matter of knowing that all of it wasn't real and
-that the safety cutoffs in even a free-choice model of a Dream Machine
-couldn't let me come to any real harm? I had been suspiciously brave,
-disarming a dedicated maniac. With only an hour to spare for gym a day,
-I could barely press 350 pounds. I was hardly in shape for personal
-combat.</p>
-
-<p>On the other hand, maybe I actually wanted something to go wrong so my
-sleep sentence would be extended. Or was it that, in some sane part of
-my mind, I wanted release from unreality badly enough to take any risk
-to prove that I was morally capable of returning to the real world?</p>
-
-<p>It was a carrousel and I couldn't catch the brass ring no matter how
-many turns I went spinning through.</p>
-
-<p>I hardly heard Horbit when he half-shouted at me as my men led him from
-the room. Glancing up sharply, I saw him straining purposefully against
-the bonds of muscle and narcotic that held him.</p>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<div class="figcenter">
- <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="342" height="500" alt=""/>
-</div>
-
-<hr class="chap" />
-
-<p>"You have to send me back now, Warden," he was shrilling. "You have to!
-I tried to coerce you with a gun. That's a crime, Warden&mdash;you <i>know</i>
-that's a crime! I have to be put to sleep!"</p>
-
-<p>Keller flicked his mustache with a thick thumbnail. "How about that?
-You won't let a guy back into the sleepy-bye pads, so he pulls a gun
-on you to make you, and <i>that</i> makes him eligible. He couldn't lose,
-Warden. No, sir, he had it made."</p>
-
-<p>My answer to Keller was forming, building up in my jaw muscles, but I
-took a pill and it went away.</p>
-
-<p>"Hold him in the detention quarters," I said finally. "I'm going to
-make a study of this."</p>
-
-<p>Keller winked knowingly and sauntered out of the office, his left hand
-swinging the blackjack the Committee had taken away from him a decade
-before.</p>
-
-<p>The problem of what to do with Keller wasn't particularly atypical of
-the ones I had to solve daily and I wasn't going to let that worry me.
-Much.</p>
-
-<p>I pressed my button to let Mrs. Engle know I was ready for the next
-interview.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>They came. There were the hysterical relatives, the wives and mothers
-and brothers who demanded that their kin be Awakened because they were
-special cases, not really guilty, or needed at home, or possessed of
-such awesome talents and qualities as to be exempt from the laws of
-lesser men.</p>
-
-<p>Once in a while I granted a parole for a prisoner to see a dying mother
-or if some important project was falling apart without his help, but
-most of the time I just sat with my eyes propped open, letting a sea of
-vindictive screeching and beseeching wailings wash around me.</p>
-
-<p>The relatives and legal talent were spaced with hungry-eyed mystics
-who were convinced they could contemplate God and their navels
-both conscientiously as an incarnation of Gautama. To risk sounding
-religiously intolerant, I usually kicked these out pretty swiftly.</p>
-
-<p>The onetime inmate who wanted back in after a reprieve was fairly rare.
-Few of them ever got <i>that</i> crazy.</p>
-
-<p>But it was my luck to get another the same day, <i>the</i> day for me, as
-Horbit.</p>
-
-<p>Paulson was a tall, lean man with sad eyes. The clock above his sharp
-shoulder bone said five till noon. I didn't expect him to take much out
-of my lunch hour.</p>
-
-<p>"Warden," Paulson said, "I've decided to give myself up. I murdered a
-blind beggar the other night."</p>
-
-<p>"For his pencils?" I asked.</p>
-
-<p>Paulson shifted uneasily. "No, sir. For his money. I needed some extra
-cash and I was stronger than he was, so why shouldn't I take it?"</p>
-
-<p>I examined the projection of his file. He was an embezzler, not a
-violent man. He had served his time and been released. Conceivably he
-might embezzle again, but the Committee saw to it that temptation was
-never again placed in his path. He would not commit a crime of violence.</p>
-
-<p>"Look, Paulson," I said, a trifle testily, "if you have so little
-conscience as to kill a blind old man for a few dollars, where do you
-suddenly get enough guilt feelings to cause you to give yourself up?"</p>
-
-<p>Paulson tried his insufficient best to smile evilly. "It wasn't
-conscience, Warden. I never lie awake a minute whenever I kill
-anybody. It's just&mdash;well, Dreaming isn't so bad. Last time I was Allen
-Pinkerton, the detective. It was exciting. A lot more exciting than the
-kind of life I lead."</p>
-
-<p>I nodded solemnly. "Yes, no doubt strangling old men in the streets can
-be pretty dull for a red-blooded man of action."</p>
-
-<p>"Yes," Paulson said earnestly, "it does get to be a humdrum routine.
-I've been experimenting with all sorts of murders, but I just don't
-seem to get much of a kick out of them now. I'd like to try it from the
-other end as Pinkerton again. Of course, if you can't arrange it, I
-guess I'll have to go out and see what I can do with, say, an ax." His
-eye glittered almost convincingly.</p>
-
-<p>"Paulson, you know I could have you watched night and day if I thought
-you really were a murderer. But I can't send you back to the sleep
-vaults without proof and conviction for a crime."</p>
-
-<p>"That doesn't sound very reasonable," Paulson objected. "Turning loose
-a homicidal maniac who is offering to go back to the vaults of his own
-free will just because you lack a little trifling proof of his guilt."</p>
-
-<p>"Sure," I told him, "but I don't want to share the same noose with you.
-My job is to keep the innocent out and the convicted in. And I do my
-job, Paulson."</p>
-
-<p>"But you have to! If you don't, I'll have to go out and establish my
-guilt with another crime. Do you want a crime on your hands, Warden?"</p>
-
-<p>I studied his record. There was a chance, just a chance....</p>
-
-<p>"Do you want to wait voluntarily in the detention quarters?" I asked
-him.</p>
-
-<p>He agreed readily enough.</p>
-
-<p>I watched him out of the office and rang for lunch.</p>
-
-<p>The news on the wall video was dull as usual. A man got tired of
-hearing peace, safety, prosperity and brotherly love all the time. I
-dug into my strained spinach, raw hamburger, and chewed up my white
-pill, my red pill, my ebony pill, and my second white pill. The gin and
-tomato juice took the taste away.</p>
-
-<p>I was ready for the afternoon session.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Matrons were finishing the messy job of dragging a hysterical woman
-out of the office when Keller came back. He had a stubborn look on his
-flattened, red face.</p>
-
-<p>"New prisoner asking to see you personal," Keller reported. "Told him
-no. Okay?"</p>
-
-<p>"No," I said. "He can see me. That's the law and you know it. He
-isn't violent, is he?" I asked in some concern. The room was still in
-disarray.</p>
-
-<p>"Naw, he ain't violent, Warden. He just thinks he's somebody important."</p>
-
-<p>"Sounds like a case for therapy, not Dreamland. Who does he think he
-is?"</p>
-
-<p>"One of the Committee&mdash;Councilman Coleman."</p>
-
-<p>"Mm-hmm. And who is he really, Captain?"</p>
-
-<p>"Councilman Coleman."</p>
-
-<p>I whistled. "What did they nail him on?"</p>
-
-<p>"Misuse of authority."</p>
-
-<p>"And he didn't get a suspended for that?"</p>
-
-<p>"Wasn't his first offense. Still want to see him?"</p>
-
-<p>I gave a lateral wave of my hand. "Of course."</p>
-
-<p>My pattern of living&mdash;call it my office routine&mdash;had been
-re-established through the day. I hadn't had a chance to brood much
-over the bombshell Coleman had tossed in my lap in the morning, but now
-I could think.</p>
-
-<p>Coleman entered wearing the same black tunic, the same superior
-attitude. His black eyes fastened on me.</p>
-
-<p>"Sit down, Councilman," I directed.</p>
-
-<p>He deigned to comply.</p>
-
-<p>I studied the files flashed before me. Several times before, Coleman
-had been guilty of slight misuses of his authority: helping his
-friends, harming his enemies. Not enough to make him be impeached
-from the Committee. His job was so hypersensitive that if every
-transgression earned dismissal, no one could hold the position more
-than a day. Even with the best intentions, mistakes can be taken for
-deliberate errors. Not to mention the converse. For his earlier errors,
-Coleman had first received a suspended sentence, then two terminal
-sentences to be fixed by the warden. My predecessors had given him
-first a few weeks, then a few months of sleep in Dreamland.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Coleman's eyes didn't frighten me; I focused right on the pupils. "That
-was a pretty foul trick, Councilman. Did you hope to somehow frighten
-me out of executing this sentence by what you told me this morning?"</p>
-
-<p>I couldn't follow his reasoning. Just how making me think my life was
-only a Dream such as I imposed on my own prisoners could help him, I
-couldn't see.</p>
-
-<p>"Warden Walker," Coleman intoned in his magnificent voice, "I'm
-shocked. <i>I</i> am not personally monitoring your Dream. The Committee as
-a whole will decide whether you are capable of returning to the real
-world. Moreover, please don't get carried away. I'm not concerned with
-what you do to this sensory projection of myself, beyond how it helps
-to establish your moral capabilities."</p>
-
-<p>"I suppose," I said heavily, "that I could best establish my high moral
-character by excusing you from this penal sentence?"</p>
-
-<p>"Not at all," Councilman Coleman asserted. "According to the facts as
-you know them, I am 'guilty' and must be confined."</p>
-
-<p>I was stymied for an instant. I had expected him to say that I must
-know that he was incapable of committing such an error and I must
-pardon him despite the misguided rulings of the courts. Then I thought
-of something else.</p>
-
-<p>"You show symptoms of being a habitual criminal, Coleman. I think you
-deserve <i>life</i>."</p>
-
-<p>Coleman cocked his head thoughtfully, concerned. "That seems rather
-extreme, Warden."</p>
-
-<p>"You would suggest a shorter sentence?"</p>
-
-<p>"If it were my place to choose, yes. A few years, perhaps. But
-life&mdash;no, I think not."</p>
-
-<p>I threw up my hands. You don't often see somebody do that, but I did.
-I couldn't figure him. Coleman had wealth and power as a councilman
-in the real world, but I had thought somehow he wanted to escape to a
-Dream world. Yet he didn't want to be in for life, the way Paulson and
-Horbit did.</p>
-
-<p>There seemed to be no point or profit in what he had told me that
-morning, nothing in it for him.</p>
-
-<p>Unless&mdash;</p>
-
-<p>Unless what he said was literally true.</p>
-
-<p>I stood up. My knees wanted to quit halfway up, but I made it. "This,"
-I said, "is a difficult decision for me, sir. Would you make yourself
-comfortable here for a time, Councilman?"</p>
-
-<p>Coleman smiled benignly. "Certainly, Warden."</p>
-
-<p>I walked out of my office, slowly and carefully.</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Horbit was sitting in his detention quarters idly flicking through
-a book tape on the Civil War when I found him. The tic in his cheek
-marked time with every new page.</p>
-
-<p>"President Lincoln," I said reverently.</p>
-
-<p>Horbit looked up, his eyes set in a clever new way. "<i>You</i> call me
-that. Does it mean I am recovering? You don't mean now that I'm getting
-back my right senses?"</p>
-
-<p>"Mr. President, the situation you find yourself in now is something
-stranger and more evil than any madness. I am not a phantom of your
-mind&mdash;I am a <i>real</i> man. This wild, distorted place is a <i>real</i> place."</p>
-
-<p>"Do you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, you scamp? Mine eyes
-have seen the glory."</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, sir." I sat down beside him and looked earnestly into his
-twitching face. "But I know you have always believed in the occult."</p>
-
-<p>He nodded slowly. "I <i>have</i> often suspected this was hell."</p>
-
-<p>"Not quite, sir. The occult has its own rigid laws. It is perfectly
-scientific. This world is in another dimension&mdash;one that is not length,
-breadth or thickness&mdash;but a real one nevertheless."</p>
-
-<p>"An interesting theory. Go ahead."</p>
-
-<p>"This world is more scientifically advanced than the one you come
-from&mdash;and this advanced science has fallen into the hands of a
-well-meaning despot."</p>
-
-<p>Horbit nodded again. "The Jefferson Davis type."</p>
-
-<p>He didn't understand Lincoln's beliefs very well, but I pretended to
-go along with him. "Yes, sir. He&mdash;our leader&mdash;doubts your abilities as
-President. He is not above meddling in the affairs of an alien world
-if he believes he is doing good. He has convicted you to this world in
-that belief."</p>
-
-<p>He chuckled. "Many of my countrymen share his convictions."</p>
-
-<p>"Maybe," I said. "But many here do not. I don't. I know you must return
-to guide the Reconstruction. But first you must convince our leader of
-your worth."</p>
-
-<p>"How am I going to accomplish that?" Horbit asked worriedly.</p>
-
-<p>"You are going to have a companion from now on, an agent of the leader,
-who will pretend to be something he isn't. You must pretend to believe
-in what he claims to be, and convince him of your high intelligence,
-moral responsibilities, and qualities of leadership."</p>
-
-<p>"Yes," Horbit said thoughtfully, "yes. I must try to curb my tendency
-for telling off-color jokes. My wife is always nagging me about that."</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>Paulson was only a few doors away from Horbit. I found him with his
-long, thin legs stretched out in front of him, staring dismally into
-the gloom of the room. No wonder he found reality so boring and
-depressing with so downbeat a mood cycle. I wondered why they hadn't
-been able to do something about adjusting his metabolism.</p>
-
-<p>"Paulson," I said gently, "I want to speak with you."</p>
-
-<p>He bolted upright in his chair. "You're going to put me back to sleep."</p>
-
-<p>"I came to talk to you about that," I admitted.</p>
-
-<p>I pulled up a seat and adjusted the lighting so only his face and mine
-seemed to float bodiless in a sea of night, two moons of flesh.</p>
-
-<p>"Paulson&mdash;or should I call you Pinkerton?&mdash;this will come as a shock, a
-shock I know only a fine analytical mind like yours could stand. You
-think your life as the great detective was only a Dream induced by some
-miraculous machine. But, sir, believe me: that life was <i>real</i>."</p>
-
-<p>Paulson's eyes rolled slightly back into his head and changed their
-luster. "Then <i>this</i> is the Dream. I've thought&mdash;"</p>
-
-<p>"No!" I snapped. "This world is also real."</p>
-
-<p>I went through the same Fourth Dimension waltz as I had auditioned for
-Horbit. At the end of it, Paulson was nodding just as eagerly.</p>
-
-<p>"I could be destroyed for telling you this, but our leader is planning
-the most gigantic conquest known to any intelligent race in the
-Universe. He is going to conquer Earth in all its possible futures and
-all its possible pasts. After that, there are other planets."</p>
-
-<p>"He must be stopped!" Paulson shouted.</p>
-
-<p>I laid my palm on his arm. "Armies can't stop him, nor can fantastic
-secret weapons. Only one thing can stop him: the greatest detective who
-ever lived. Pinkerton!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yes," Paulson said. "I suppose I could."</p>
-
-<p>"He knows that. But he's a fiend. He wants a battle of wits with you,
-his only possible foe, for the satisfaction of making a fool of you."</p>
-
-<p>"Easier said than done, my friend," Paulson said crisply.</p>
-
-<p>"True," I agreed, "but he is devious, the devil! He plans to convince
-you that he also has been removed to this world from his own, even as
-you have. He will claim to be Abraham Lincoln."</p>
-
-<p>"No!"</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, and he will pretend to find you accidentally and get you to help
-him find a way back to his own world, glorying in making a fool of you.
-But you can use every moment to learn his every weakness."</p>
-
-<p>"But wait. I know President Lincoln well. I guarded him on his first
-inauguration trip. How could this leader of yours fool me? Does he look
-like the President?"</p>
-
-<p>"Not at all. But remember, the dimensional shift changes physical
-appearance. You've noticed that in yourself."</p>
-
-<p>"Yes, of course," Paulson muttered. "But he couldn't hoax me. My keen
-powers of deduction would have seen through him in an instant!"</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>I saw Horbit and Paulson happily off in each other's company. Paulson
-was no longer bored by a reality in which he was matching wits with
-the first master criminal of the paratime universe, and Horbit was no
-longer hopeless in his quest to gain another reality because he knew
-he was not merely insane now.</p>
-
-<p>It was a pair of fantastic stories that no man in his right mind would
-believe&mdash;but that didn't make them invalid to a brace of ex-Sleepers.
-They <i>wanted</i> to believe them. The stories gave them what they were
-after&mdash;without me having to break the law and put them to sleep for
-crimes they hadn't committed.</p>
-
-<p>They would find out some day that I had lied to them, but maybe by that
-time they would have realized this world wasn't so bad.</p>
-
-<p>Fortunately, I was confident from their psych records that they were
-both incapable of ending their little game by homicide, no matter how
-justified they might think it was.</p>
-
-<p>"Hey, Warden," Captain Keller bellowed as I approached my office
-door, "when are you going to let me throw that stiff Coleman into the
-sleepy-bye vaults? He's still sitting in there on your furniture as
-smug as you please."</p>
-
-<p>"You don't sound as if you like our distinguished visitor very well," I
-remarked.</p>
-
-<p>"It's not that. I just don't think he deserves any special privileges.
-Besides, it was guys like him that took away our nightsticks. My boys
-didn't like that. Look at me&mdash;I'm defenseless!"</p>
-
-<p>I looked at his square figure. "Not quite, Captain, not quite."</p>
-
-<p>Now was the time.</p>
-
-<p>I stretched out my wet palm toward the door.</p>
-
-<p>Was or was not Coleman telling the truth when he said this life of mine
-was itself only a Dream? If it was, did I want to finish my last day
-with the right decision so I could return to some alien reality? Or did
-I deliberately want to make a mistake so I could continue living the
-opiate of my Dream?</p>
-
-<p>Then, as I touched the door, I knew the only decision that could have
-any meaning for me.</p>
-
-<p>Councilman Coleman didn't look as if he had moved since I had left him.
-He was unwrinkled, unperspiring, his eyes and mustache crisp as ever.
-He smiled at me briefly in supreme confidence.</p>
-
-<p>I changed my decision then, in that moment. And, in the next, changed
-it back to my original choice.</p>
-
-<p>"Coleman," I said, "you can get out of here. As warden, I'm granting
-you a five-year probation."</p>
-
-<p>The councilman stood up swiftly, his eyes catching little sparks
-of yellow light. "I don't approve of your decision, Warden. Not at
-all. Unless you alter it, I'll be forced to convince the rest of the
-Committee that your decisions are becoming faulty, that you are losing
-your grip just as all your predecessors did."</p>
-
-<p>My muscles relaxed in a spasm and it took the fresh flow of adrenalin
-to get me to the chair behind my desk. I took a pill. I took two pills.</p>
-
-<p>"Tell me, Councilman, what happened to the offer to release me from
-this phony Dream? Now you are talking as if <i>this</i> world was the <i>real</i>
-one."</p>
-
-<p>Coleman parted his lips, but then the planes of his face shifted into
-another pattern. "You never believed me."</p>
-
-<p>"Almost, but not quite. You knew I was on the narrow edge in this kind
-of job, but I'm not as far out as you seemed to have thought."</p>
-
-<p>"I can still wreck your career, you know."</p>
-
-<p>"I don't think so. That would constitute a misuse of authority, and
-the next time you turn up before me, I'm going to give you <i>life</i> in
-Dreamland."</p>
-
-<p>Coleman sat back down suddenly.</p>
-
-<p>"You don't want life as a Sleeper, do you?" I pursued. "You did want
-a relatively <i>short</i> sentence of a few months or a few years. I can
-think of two reasons why. The answer is probably a combination of
-both. In the first place, you are a joy-popper with Dreams&mdash;you don't
-want to live out your life in one, but you like a brief Dream every
-few years like an occasional dose of a narcotic. In the second place,
-you probably have political reasons for wanting to hide out somewhere
-in safety for the next few years. The world isn't as placid as the
-newscasts sometimes make it seem."</p>
-
-<hr class="tb" />
-
-<p>He didn't say anything. I didn't think he had to.</p>
-
-<p>"You wanted to make sure I made a painfully scrupulous decision in
-your case," I went on. "You didn't want me to pardon you completely
-because of your high position, but at the same time you didn't want too
-long a sentence. But I'm doing you no favors. You get no time from me,
-Coleman."</p>
-
-<p>"How did you decide to do this?" he asked. "Don't tell me you never
-doubted. We've all doubted since we found out about the machines: which
-was real and which was the Dream? How did you decide to risk this?"</p>
-
-<p>"I acted the only way I could act," I said. "I decided I had to act as
-if my life was real and that you were lying. I decided that because, if
-all this were false, if I could have no more confidence in my own mind
-and my own senses than that, I didn't give a damn if it <i>were</i> all a
-Dream."</p>
-
-<p>Coleman stood up and walked out of my office.</p>
-
-<p>The clock told me it was after five. I began clearing my desk.</p>
-
-<p>Captain Keller stuck his head in, unannounced. "Hey, Warden, there's an
-active one out here. He claims that Dreamland compromises His plan for
-the Free Will of the Universe."</p>
-
-<p>"Well, escort him inside, Captain," I said.</p>
-
-<p>I put away my pills. Solving simple problems such as the new visitor
-presented always helped me to relax.</p>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
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-The Project Gutenberg EBook of No Substitutions, by Jim Harmon
-
-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/license
-
-
-Title: No Substitutions
-
-Author: Jim Harmon
-
-Release Date: March 3, 2016 [EBook #51350]
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-Language: English
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-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NO SUBSTITUTIONS ***
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-
- NO SUBSTITUTIONS
-
- By JIM HARMON
-
- Illustrated by JOHNSON
-
- [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
- Galaxy Magazine November 1958.
- Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
- the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
-
-
-
-
- If it was happening to him, all right, he could
- take that ... but what if he was happening to it?
-
-
-Putting people painlessly to sleep is really a depressing job. It
-keeps me awake at night thinking of all those bodies I have sent to
-the vaults, and it interferes to a marked extent with my digestion. I
-thought before Councilman Coleman came to see me that there wasn't much
-that could bother me worse.
-
-Coleman came in the morning before I was really ready to face the
-day. My nerves were fairly well shot from the kind of work I did as
-superintendent of Dreamland. I chewed up my pill to calm me down,
-the one to pep me up, the capsule to strengthen my qualities as a
-relentless perfectionist. I washed them down with gin and orange
-juice and sat back, building up my fortitude to do business over the
-polished deck of my desk.
-
-But instead of the usual morning run of hysterical relatives and
-masochistic mystics, I had to face one of my superiors from the
-Committee itself.
-
-Councilman Coleman was an impressive figure in a tailored black tunic.
-His olive features were set off by bristling black eyes and a mobile
-mustache. He probably scared most people, but not me. Authority doesn't
-frighten me any more. I've put to sleep too many megalomaniacs,
-dictators, and civil servants.
-
-"Warden Walker, I've been following your career with considerable
-interest," Coleman said.
-
-"My career hasn't been very long, sir," I said modestly. I didn't
-mention that _nobody_ could last that long in my job. At least, none
-had yet.
-
-"I've followed it from the first. I know every step you've made."
-
-I didn't know whether to be flattered or apprehensive. "That's fine," I
-said. It didn't sound right.
-
-"Tell me," Coleman said, crossing his legs, "what do you think of
-Dreamland in principle?"
-
-"Why, it's the logical step forward in penal servitude. Man has been
-heading toward this since he first started civilizing himself. After
-all, some criminals _can't_ be helped psychiatrically. We can't execute
-them or turn them free; we have to imprison them."
-
-I waited for Coleman's reaction. He merely nodded.
-
-"Of course, it's barbaric to think of a prison as a place of
-punishment," I continued. "A prison is a place to keep a criminal away
-from society for a specific time so he can't harm that society for that
-time. Punishment, rehabilitation, all of it is secondary to that. The
-purpose of confinement is confinement."
-
- * * * * *
-
-The councilman edged forward an inch. "And you really think Dreamland
-is the most humane confinement possible?"
-
-"Well," I hedged, "it's the most humane we've found yet. I suppose
-living through a--uh--movie with full sensory participation for year
-after year can get boring."
-
-"I should think so," Coleman said emphatically. "Warden, don't you
-sometimes feel the old system where the prisoners had the diversions
-of riots, solitary confinement, television, and jailbreaks may have
-made time easier to serve? Do these men ever think they are _actually_
-living these vicarious adventures?"
-
-That was a question that made all of us in the Dreamland service
-uneasy. "No, Councilman, they don't. They know they aren't really
-Alexander of Macedonia, Tarzan, Casanova, or Buffalo Bill. They are
-conscious of all the time that is being spent out of their real lives;
-they know they have relatives and friends outside the dream. They know,
-unless--"
-
-Coleman lifted a dark eyebrow above a black iris. "Unless?"
-
-I cleared my throat. "Unless they go mad and really believe the dream
-they are living. But as you know, sir, the rate of madness among
-Dreamland inmates is only slightly above the norm for the population as
-a whole."
-
-"How do prisoners like that adjust to reality?"
-
-Was he deliberately trying to ask tough questions? "They don't. They
-think they are having some kind of delusion. Many of them become
-schizoid and pretend to go along with reality while secretly 'knowing'
-it to be a lie."
-
-Coleman removed a pocket secretary and broke it open. "About these new
-free-choice models--do you think they genuinely are an improvement over
-the old fixed-image machines?"
-
-"Yes, sir," I replied. "By letting the prisoner project his own
-imagination onto the sense tapes and giving him a limited amount of
-alternatives to a situation, we can observe whether he is conforming to
-society to a larger extent."
-
-"I'm glad you said that, Walker," Councilman Coleman told me warmly.
-"As I said, I've been following your career closely, and if you
-get through the next twenty-four-hour period as you have through
-the foregoing part of your Dream, you will be awakened at this time
-tomorrow. Congratulations!"
-
-I sat there and took it.
-
-He was telling _me_, the superintendent of Dreamland, that my own
-life here was only a Dream such as I fed to my own prisoners. It was
-unbelievably absurd, a queasy little joke of some kind. But I didn't
-deny it.
-
- * * * * *
-
-If it _were_ true, if I had forgotten that everything that happened was
-only a Dream, and if I admitted it, the councilman would know I was
-mad. _It couldn't be true._ Yet--
-
-Hadn't I thought about it ever since I had been appointed warden and
-transferred from my personnel job at the plant?
-
-Whenever I had come upon two people talking, and it seemed as if I had
-come upon those same two people talking the same talk before, hadn't I
-wondered for an instant if it couldn't be a Dream, not reality at all?
-
-Once I had experienced a Dream for five or ten minutes. I was driving
-a ground car down a spidery road made into a dismal tunnel by weeping
-trees, a dank, lavender maze. I had known at the time it was a Dream,
-but still, as the moments passed, I became more intent on the
-difficult road before me, my blocky hands on the steering wheel, thick
-fingers typing out the pattern of motion on the drive buttons.
-
-I could remember that. Maybe I couldn't remember being shoved into the
-prison vault for so many years for such and such a crime.
-
-I didn't really believe this, not then, but I couldn't afford to make
-a mistake, even if it were only some sort of intemperate test--as I
-was confident it was, with a sweet, throbbing fury against the man who
-would employ such a jagged broadsword for prying in his bureaucratic
-majesty.
-
-"I've always thought," I said, "that it would be a good idea to show
-a prisoner what the modern penal system was all about by giving him a
-Dream in which he dreamed about Dreamland itself."
-
-"Yes, indeed," Coleman concurred. Just that and no more.
-
-I leaned intimately across my beautiful oak desk. "I've thought that
-projecting officials into the Dream and letting them talk with the
-prisoners might be a more effective form of investigation than mere
-observation."
-
-"I should say so," Coleman remarked, and got up.
-
-I _had_ to get more out of him, some proof, some clue beyond the
-preposterous announcement he had made.
-
-"I'll see you tomorrow at this time then, Walker." The councilman
-nodded curtly and turned to leave my office.
-
-I held onto the sides of my desk to keep from diving over and teaching
-him to change his concept of humor.
-
-The day was starting. If I got through it, giving a good show, I would
-be released from my Dream, he had said smugly.
-
-But if this was a dream, did I want probation to reality?
-
- * * * * *
-
-Horbit was a twitchy little man whose business tunic was the same
-rodent color as his hair. He had a pronounced tic in his left cheek. "I
-have to get back," he told me with compelling earnestness.
-
-"Mr. Horbit--Eddie--" I said, glancing at his file projected on my desk
-pad, "I can't put you back into a Dream. You served your full time for
-your crime. The maximum."
-
-"But I haven't adjusted to society!"
-
-"Eddie, I can shorten sentences, but I can't expand them beyond the
-limit set by the courts."
-
-A tear of frustration spilled out of his left eye with the next twitch.
-"But Warden, sir, my psychiatrist said that I was unable to cope with
-reality. Come on now, Warden, you don't want a guy who can't cope with
-reality running around loose." He paused, puzzled. "Hell, I don't
-know why I can't express myself like I used to."
-
-He could express himself much better in his Dream. He had been Abraham
-Lincoln in his Dream, I saw. He had lived the life right up to the
-night when he was taking in _An American Cousin_ at the Ford Theater.
-Horbit couldn't accept history that he had no more life to live. He
-only knew that if in his delirium he could gain Dreamland once more, he
-could get back to the hard realities of dealing with the problems of
-Reconstruction.
-
-"_Please_," he begged.
-
-I looked up from the file. "I'm sorry, Eddie."
-
-His eyes narrowed, both of them, on the next twitch. "Warden, I can
-always go out and commit another anti-social act."
-
-"I'm afraid not, Eddie. The file shows you are capable of only one
-crime. And you don't have a wife any more, and she doesn't have a
-lover."
-
-Horbit laughed. "Your files aren't infallible, Warden."
-
-With one gesture, he ripped open his tunic and tore into his own flesh.
-No, not his own flesh. Pseudo-flesh. He took out the gun that was
-underneath.
-
-"The beamer is made of X-ray-transparent plastic, Warden, but it works
-as well as one made of steel and lead."
-
-"Now that you've got it in here," I said in time with the pulse in my
-throat, "what are you going to do with it?"
-
-"I'm going to make you go down to the vaults and put me back to sleep,
-Warden."
-
-I nodded. "I suppose you can do that. But what's to prevent me from
-waking you up as soon as I've taken away your gun?"
-
-"This!" He tossed a sheet of paper onto my desk.
-
-"What's this?" I asked unnecessarily. I could read it.
-
-"A confession that you accepted a bribe to put me back to sleep,"
-Horbit said, his tic beating out a feverish tempo. "As soon as you've
-signed it, I'll use your phone to have it telefaxed to the Registrar of
-Private Documents."
-
-I had to admire the thought behind the idea. Horbit was convinced that
-I was only a figment of his unfocused imagination, but he was playing
-the game with uncompromising logic, trusting that even madness had hard
-and tight rules behind it.
-
-There was also something else I admired about the plan.
-
-It could work.
-
-Once he fed that document to the archives, I would be obligated to help
-him even without the gun. My word would probably be taken that I had
-been forced to do it at gunpoint, but there would always be doubts,
-enough to wreck my career when it came time for promotion.
-
-Nothing like this had ever happened in my years as warden.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Suddenly, Coleman's words hit me in the back of the neck. _If I got
-through the next twenty-four hours._ This had to be some kind of test.
-
-But a test for what?
-
-Had I been deliberately told that I was living only a Dream to see
-if my ethics would hold up even when I thought I wasn't dealing with
-reality?
-
-Or if this _was_ only a Dream, was it a test to see if I was morally
-ready to return to the real, the earnest world?
-
-But if it was a test to see if I was ready for reality, did I want to
-pass it? My life was nerve-racking and mind-wrecking, but I liked the
-challenge--it was the only life I knew or could believe in.
-
-What was I going to do?
-
-The only thing I knew was that I couldn't tune in tomorrow and find out.
-
-The time was _now_.
-
-Horbit motioned the gun to my desk set. "Sign that paper."
-
-I reached out and took hold of his wrist. I squeezed.
-
-Horbit's screams brought in the guards.
-
-I picked up the gun from where he had dropped it and handed it to
-Captain Keller, my head guard, a tough old bird who wore his uniform
-like armor.
-
-"Trying to force his way back to the sleep tanks," I told Keller.
-
-He nodded. "Happened before. Back when old man Preston lost his grip."
-
-Preston had been my predecessor. He had lost his hold on reality like
-all the others before him who had served long as warden of Dreamland.
-A few had quit while they were still ahead and spent the rest of their
-lives recuperating. Our society didn't produce individuals tough enough
-to stand the strain of putting their fellow human beings to sleep for
-long.
-
-One of Keller's men had stabbed Horbit's arm with a hypospray to
-blanket the pain from his broken wrist, and the man was quieter.
-
-"I couldn't have done it, Warden," Horbit mumbled drowsily. "I couldn't
-kill anybody. Unless it was like that other time."
-
-"Of course, Eddie," I said.
-
-I had banked on that, hadn't I, when I made my move?
-
-Or did I?
-
-Wasn't it perhaps a matter of knowing that all of it wasn't real and
-that the safety cutoffs in even a free-choice model of a Dream Machine
-couldn't let me come to any real harm? I had been suspiciously brave,
-disarming a dedicated maniac. With only an hour to spare for gym a day,
-I could barely press 350 pounds. I was hardly in shape for personal
-combat.
-
-On the other hand, maybe I actually wanted something to go wrong so my
-sleep sentence would be extended. Or was it that, in some sane part of
-my mind, I wanted release from unreality badly enough to take any risk
-to prove that I was morally capable of returning to the real world?
-
-It was a carrousel and I couldn't catch the brass ring no matter how
-many turns I went spinning through.
-
-I hardly heard Horbit when he half-shouted at me as my men led him from
-the room. Glancing up sharply, I saw him straining purposefully against
-the bonds of muscle and narcotic that held him.
-
-"You have to send me back now, Warden," he was shrilling. "You have to!
-I tried to coerce you with a gun. That's a crime, Warden--you _know_
-that's a crime! I have to be put to sleep!"
-
-Keller flicked his mustache with a thick thumbnail. "How about that?
-You won't let a guy back into the sleepy-bye pads, so he pulls a gun
-on you to make you, and _that_ makes him eligible. He couldn't lose,
-Warden. No, sir, he had it made."
-
-My answer to Keller was forming, building up in my jaw muscles, but I
-took a pill and it went away.
-
-"Hold him in the detention quarters," I said finally. "I'm going to
-make a study of this."
-
-Keller winked knowingly and sauntered out of the office, his left hand
-swinging the blackjack the Committee had taken away from him a decade
-before.
-
-The problem of what to do with Keller wasn't particularly atypical of
-the ones I had to solve daily and I wasn't going to let that worry me.
-Much.
-
-I pressed my button to let Mrs. Engle know I was ready for the next
-interview.
-
- * * * * *
-
-They came. There were the hysterical relatives, the wives and mothers
-and brothers who demanded that their kin be Awakened because they were
-special cases, not really guilty, or needed at home, or possessed of
-such awesome talents and qualities as to be exempt from the laws of
-lesser men.
-
-Once in a while I granted a parole for a prisoner to see a dying mother
-or if some important project was falling apart without his help, but
-most of the time I just sat with my eyes propped open, letting a sea of
-vindictive screeching and beseeching wailings wash around me.
-
-The relatives and legal talent were spaced with hungry-eyed mystics
-who were convinced they could contemplate God and their navels
-both conscientiously as an incarnation of Gautama. To risk sounding
-religiously intolerant, I usually kicked these out pretty swiftly.
-
-The onetime inmate who wanted back in after a reprieve was fairly rare.
-Few of them ever got _that_ crazy.
-
-But it was my luck to get another the same day, _the_ day for me, as
-Horbit.
-
-Paulson was a tall, lean man with sad eyes. The clock above his sharp
-shoulder bone said five till noon. I didn't expect him to take much out
-of my lunch hour.
-
-"Warden," Paulson said, "I've decided to give myself up. I murdered a
-blind beggar the other night."
-
-"For his pencils?" I asked.
-
-Paulson shifted uneasily. "No, sir. For his money. I needed some extra
-cash and I was stronger than he was, so why shouldn't I take it?"
-
-I examined the projection of his file. He was an embezzler, not a
-violent man. He had served his time and been released. Conceivably he
-might embezzle again, but the Committee saw to it that temptation was
-never again placed in his path. He would not commit a crime of violence.
-
-"Look, Paulson," I said, a trifle testily, "if you have so little
-conscience as to kill a blind old man for a few dollars, where do you
-suddenly get enough guilt feelings to cause you to give yourself up?"
-
-Paulson tried his insufficient best to smile evilly. "It wasn't
-conscience, Warden. I never lie awake a minute whenever I kill
-anybody. It's just--well, Dreaming isn't so bad. Last time I was Allen
-Pinkerton, the detective. It was exciting. A lot more exciting than the
-kind of life I lead."
-
-I nodded solemnly. "Yes, no doubt strangling old men in the streets can
-be pretty dull for a red-blooded man of action."
-
-"Yes," Paulson said earnestly, "it does get to be a humdrum routine.
-I've been experimenting with all sorts of murders, but I just don't
-seem to get much of a kick out of them now. I'd like to try it from the
-other end as Pinkerton again. Of course, if you can't arrange it, I
-guess I'll have to go out and see what I can do with, say, an ax." His
-eye glittered almost convincingly.
-
-"Paulson, you know I could have you watched night and day if I thought
-you really were a murderer. But I can't send you back to the sleep
-vaults without proof and conviction for a crime."
-
-"That doesn't sound very reasonable," Paulson objected. "Turning loose
-a homicidal maniac who is offering to go back to the vaults of his own
-free will just because you lack a little trifling proof of his guilt."
-
-"Sure," I told him, "but I don't want to share the same noose with you.
-My job is to keep the innocent out and the convicted in. And I do my
-job, Paulson."
-
-"But you have to! If you don't, I'll have to go out and establish my
-guilt with another crime. Do you want a crime on your hands, Warden?"
-
-I studied his record. There was a chance, just a chance....
-
-"Do you want to wait voluntarily in the detention quarters?" I asked
-him.
-
-He agreed readily enough.
-
-I watched him out of the office and rang for lunch.
-
-The news on the wall video was dull as usual. A man got tired of
-hearing peace, safety, prosperity and brotherly love all the time. I
-dug into my strained spinach, raw hamburger, and chewed up my white
-pill, my red pill, my ebony pill, and my second white pill. The gin and
-tomato juice took the taste away.
-
-I was ready for the afternoon session.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Matrons were finishing the messy job of dragging a hysterical woman
-out of the office when Keller came back. He had a stubborn look on his
-flattened, red face.
-
-"New prisoner asking to see you personal," Keller reported. "Told him
-no. Okay?"
-
-"No," I said. "He can see me. That's the law and you know it. He
-isn't violent, is he?" I asked in some concern. The room was still in
-disarray.
-
-"Naw, he ain't violent, Warden. He just thinks he's somebody important."
-
-"Sounds like a case for therapy, not Dreamland. Who does he think he
-is?"
-
-"One of the Committee--Councilman Coleman."
-
-"Mm-hmm. And who is he really, Captain?"
-
-"Councilman Coleman."
-
-I whistled. "What did they nail him on?"
-
-"Misuse of authority."
-
-"And he didn't get a suspended for that?"
-
-"Wasn't his first offense. Still want to see him?"
-
-I gave a lateral wave of my hand. "Of course."
-
-My pattern of living--call it my office routine--had been
-re-established through the day. I hadn't had a chance to brood much
-over the bombshell Coleman had tossed in my lap in the morning, but now
-I could think.
-
-Coleman entered wearing the same black tunic, the same superior
-attitude. His black eyes fastened on me.
-
-"Sit down, Councilman," I directed.
-
-He deigned to comply.
-
-I studied the files flashed before me. Several times before, Coleman
-had been guilty of slight misuses of his authority: helping his
-friends, harming his enemies. Not enough to make him be impeached
-from the Committee. His job was so hypersensitive that if every
-transgression earned dismissal, no one could hold the position more
-than a day. Even with the best intentions, mistakes can be taken for
-deliberate errors. Not to mention the converse. For his earlier errors,
-Coleman had first received a suspended sentence, then two terminal
-sentences to be fixed by the warden. My predecessors had given him
-first a few weeks, then a few months of sleep in Dreamland.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Coleman's eyes didn't frighten me; I focused right on the pupils. "That
-was a pretty foul trick, Councilman. Did you hope to somehow frighten
-me out of executing this sentence by what you told me this morning?"
-
-I couldn't follow his reasoning. Just how making me think my life was
-only a Dream such as I imposed on my own prisoners could help him, I
-couldn't see.
-
-"Warden Walker," Coleman intoned in his magnificent voice, "I'm
-shocked. _I_ am not personally monitoring your Dream. The Committee as
-a whole will decide whether you are capable of returning to the real
-world. Moreover, please don't get carried away. I'm not concerned with
-what you do to this sensory projection of myself, beyond how it helps
-to establish your moral capabilities."
-
-"I suppose," I said heavily, "that I could best establish my high moral
-character by excusing you from this penal sentence?"
-
-"Not at all," Councilman Coleman asserted. "According to the facts as
-you know them, I am 'guilty' and must be confined."
-
-I was stymied for an instant. I had expected him to say that I must
-know that he was incapable of committing such an error and I must
-pardon him despite the misguided rulings of the courts. Then I thought
-of something else.
-
-"You show symptoms of being a habitual criminal, Coleman. I think you
-deserve _life_."
-
-Coleman cocked his head thoughtfully, concerned. "That seems rather
-extreme, Warden."
-
-"You would suggest a shorter sentence?"
-
-"If it were my place to choose, yes. A few years, perhaps. But
-life--no, I think not."
-
-I threw up my hands. You don't often see somebody do that, but I did.
-I couldn't figure him. Coleman had wealth and power as a councilman
-in the real world, but I had thought somehow he wanted to escape to a
-Dream world. Yet he didn't want to be in for life, the way Paulson and
-Horbit did.
-
-There seemed to be no point or profit in what he had told me that
-morning, nothing in it for him.
-
-Unless--
-
-Unless what he said was literally true.
-
-I stood up. My knees wanted to quit halfway up, but I made it. "This,"
-I said, "is a difficult decision for me, sir. Would you make yourself
-comfortable here for a time, Councilman?"
-
-Coleman smiled benignly. "Certainly, Warden."
-
-I walked out of my office, slowly and carefully.
-
- * * * * *
-
-Horbit was sitting in his detention quarters idly flicking through
-a book tape on the Civil War when I found him. The tic in his cheek
-marked time with every new page.
-
-"President Lincoln," I said reverently.
-
-Horbit looked up, his eyes set in a clever new way. "_You_ call me
-that. Does it mean I am recovering? You don't mean now that I'm getting
-back my right senses?"
-
-"Mr. President, the situation you find yourself in now is something
-stranger and more evil than any madness. I am not a phantom of your
-mind--I am a _real_ man. This wild, distorted place is a _real_ place."
-
-"Do you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, you scamp? Mine eyes
-have seen the glory."
-
-"Yes, sir." I sat down beside him and looked earnestly into his
-twitching face. "But I know you have always believed in the occult."
-
-He nodded slowly. "I _have_ often suspected this was hell."
-
-"Not quite, sir. The occult has its own rigid laws. It is perfectly
-scientific. This world is in another dimension--one that is not length,
-breadth or thickness--but a real one nevertheless."
-
-"An interesting theory. Go ahead."
-
-"This world is more scientifically advanced than the one you come
-from--and this advanced science has fallen into the hands of a
-well-meaning despot."
-
-Horbit nodded again. "The Jefferson Davis type."
-
-He didn't understand Lincoln's beliefs very well, but I pretended to
-go along with him. "Yes, sir. He--our leader--doubts your abilities as
-President. He is not above meddling in the affairs of an alien world
-if he believes he is doing good. He has convicted you to this world in
-that belief."
-
-He chuckled. "Many of my countrymen share his convictions."
-
-"Maybe," I said. "But many here do not. I don't. I know you must return
-to guide the Reconstruction. But first you must convince our leader of
-your worth."
-
-"How am I going to accomplish that?" Horbit asked worriedly.
-
-"You are going to have a companion from now on, an agent of the leader,
-who will pretend to be something he isn't. You must pretend to believe
-in what he claims to be, and convince him of your high intelligence,
-moral responsibilities, and qualities of leadership."
-
-"Yes," Horbit said thoughtfully, "yes. I must try to curb my tendency
-for telling off-color jokes. My wife is always nagging me about that."
-
- * * * * *
-
-Paulson was only a few doors away from Horbit. I found him with his
-long, thin legs stretched out in front of him, staring dismally into
-the gloom of the room. No wonder he found reality so boring and
-depressing with so downbeat a mood cycle. I wondered why they hadn't
-been able to do something about adjusting his metabolism.
-
-"Paulson," I said gently, "I want to speak with you."
-
-He bolted upright in his chair. "You're going to put me back to sleep."
-
-"I came to talk to you about that," I admitted.
-
-I pulled up a seat and adjusted the lighting so only his face and mine
-seemed to float bodiless in a sea of night, two moons of flesh.
-
-"Paulson--or should I call you Pinkerton?--this will come as a shock, a
-shock I know only a fine analytical mind like yours could stand. You
-think your life as the great detective was only a Dream induced by some
-miraculous machine. But, sir, believe me: that life was _real_."
-
-Paulson's eyes rolled slightly back into his head and changed their
-luster. "Then _this_ is the Dream. I've thought--"
-
-"No!" I snapped. "This world is also real."
-
-I went through the same Fourth Dimension waltz as I had auditioned for
-Horbit. At the end of it, Paulson was nodding just as eagerly.
-
-"I could be destroyed for telling you this, but our leader is planning
-the most gigantic conquest known to any intelligent race in the
-Universe. He is going to conquer Earth in all its possible futures and
-all its possible pasts. After that, there are other planets."
-
-"He must be stopped!" Paulson shouted.
-
-I laid my palm on his arm. "Armies can't stop him, nor can fantastic
-secret weapons. Only one thing can stop him: the greatest detective who
-ever lived. Pinkerton!"
-
-"Yes," Paulson said. "I suppose I could."
-
-"He knows that. But he's a fiend. He wants a battle of wits with you,
-his only possible foe, for the satisfaction of making a fool of you."
-
-"Easier said than done, my friend," Paulson said crisply.
-
-"True," I agreed, "but he is devious, the devil! He plans to convince
-you that he also has been removed to this world from his own, even as
-you have. He will claim to be Abraham Lincoln."
-
-"No!"
-
-"Yes, and he will pretend to find you accidentally and get you to help
-him find a way back to his own world, glorying in making a fool of you.
-But you can use every moment to learn his every weakness."
-
-"But wait. I know President Lincoln well. I guarded him on his first
-inauguration trip. How could this leader of yours fool me? Does he look
-like the President?"
-
-"Not at all. But remember, the dimensional shift changes physical
-appearance. You've noticed that in yourself."
-
-"Yes, of course," Paulson muttered. "But he couldn't hoax me. My keen
-powers of deduction would have seen through him in an instant!"
-
- * * * * *
-
-I saw Horbit and Paulson happily off in each other's company. Paulson
-was no longer bored by a reality in which he was matching wits with
-the first master criminal of the paratime universe, and Horbit was no
-longer hopeless in his quest to gain another reality because he knew
-he was not merely insane now.
-
-It was a pair of fantastic stories that no man in his right mind would
-believe--but that didn't make them invalid to a brace of ex-Sleepers.
-They _wanted_ to believe them. The stories gave them what they were
-after--without me having to break the law and put them to sleep for
-crimes they hadn't committed.
-
-They would find out some day that I had lied to them, but maybe by that
-time they would have realized this world wasn't so bad.
-
-Fortunately, I was confident from their psych records that they were
-both incapable of ending their little game by homicide, no matter how
-justified they might think it was.
-
-"Hey, Warden," Captain Keller bellowed as I approached my office
-door, "when are you going to let me throw that stiff Coleman into the
-sleepy-bye vaults? He's still sitting in there on your furniture as
-smug as you please."
-
-"You don't sound as if you like our distinguished visitor very well," I
-remarked.
-
-"It's not that. I just don't think he deserves any special privileges.
-Besides, it was guys like him that took away our nightsticks. My boys
-didn't like that. Look at me--I'm defenseless!"
-
-I looked at his square figure. "Not quite, Captain, not quite."
-
-Now was the time.
-
-I stretched out my wet palm toward the door.
-
-Was or was not Coleman telling the truth when he said this life of mine
-was itself only a Dream? If it was, did I want to finish my last day
-with the right decision so I could return to some alien reality? Or did
-I deliberately want to make a mistake so I could continue living the
-opiate of my Dream?
-
-Then, as I touched the door, I knew the only decision that could have
-any meaning for me.
-
-Councilman Coleman didn't look as if he had moved since I had left him.
-He was unwrinkled, unperspiring, his eyes and mustache crisp as ever.
-He smiled at me briefly in supreme confidence.
-
-I changed my decision then, in that moment. And, in the next, changed
-it back to my original choice.
-
-"Coleman," I said, "you can get out of here. As warden, I'm granting
-you a five-year probation."
-
-The councilman stood up swiftly, his eyes catching little sparks
-of yellow light. "I don't approve of your decision, Warden. Not at
-all. Unless you alter it, I'll be forced to convince the rest of the
-Committee that your decisions are becoming faulty, that you are losing
-your grip just as all your predecessors did."
-
-My muscles relaxed in a spasm and it took the fresh flow of adrenalin
-to get me to the chair behind my desk. I took a pill. I took two pills.
-
-"Tell me, Councilman, what happened to the offer to release me from
-this phony Dream? Now you are talking as if _this_ world was the _real_
-one."
-
-Coleman parted his lips, but then the planes of his face shifted into
-another pattern. "You never believed me."
-
-"Almost, but not quite. You knew I was on the narrow edge in this kind
-of job, but I'm not as far out as you seemed to have thought."
-
-"I can still wreck your career, you know."
-
-"I don't think so. That would constitute a misuse of authority, and
-the next time you turn up before me, I'm going to give you _life_ in
-Dreamland."
-
-Coleman sat back down suddenly.
-
-"You don't want life as a Sleeper, do you?" I pursued. "You did want
-a relatively _short_ sentence of a few months or a few years. I can
-think of two reasons why. The answer is probably a combination of
-both. In the first place, you are a joy-popper with Dreams--you don't
-want to live out your life in one, but you like a brief Dream every
-few years like an occasional dose of a narcotic. In the second place,
-you probably have political reasons for wanting to hide out somewhere
-in safety for the next few years. The world isn't as placid as the
-newscasts sometimes make it seem."
-
- * * * * *
-
-He didn't say anything. I didn't think he had to.
-
-"You wanted to make sure I made a painfully scrupulous decision in
-your case," I went on. "You didn't want me to pardon you completely
-because of your high position, but at the same time you didn't want too
-long a sentence. But I'm doing you no favors. You get no time from me,
-Coleman."
-
-"How did you decide to do this?" he asked. "Don't tell me you never
-doubted. We've all doubted since we found out about the machines: which
-was real and which was the Dream? How did you decide to risk this?"
-
-"I acted the only way I could act," I said. "I decided I had to act as
-if my life was real and that you were lying. I decided that because, if
-all this were false, if I could have no more confidence in my own mind
-and my own senses than that, I didn't give a damn if it _were_ all a
-Dream."
-
-Coleman stood up and walked out of my office.
-
-The clock told me it was after five. I began clearing my desk.
-
-Captain Keller stuck his head in, unannounced. "Hey, Warden, there's an
-active one out here. He claims that Dreamland compromises His plan for
-the Free Will of the Universe."
-
-"Well, escort him inside, Captain," I said.
-
-I put away my pills. Solving simple problems such as the new visitor
-presented always helped me to relax.
-
-
-
-
-
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