because it could also be someone who wasn’t due to check in, or someone who never checked in except with his own controller. I’d say they have nothing to worry about. In fact, the only ones who have anything to worry about are the people who might get in the way.”
“You and me, for instance.”
“Decent of them to give us a warning. How long will it take before a whole reporting cycle is completed and everybody who talks to Langley gets his chance to stand you up?”
“Another ten days.”
“It might be a good idea to wrap up the Donahue thing before then.”
Kepler scratched his chin with his forefinger, trying not to spill the can of beer he held in his hand. “That professor didn’t write this. Have you noticed?”
“Of course I noticed. The earthquake institute mapped out all the targets in Mexico City that were most important and vulnerable, and the CIA just developed the easiest ways to take them out, like a recipe. Donahue had nothing to do with it. What are you getting at?”
“This is getting a little far from the original point. A little theoretical, like the professor. I’m prepared to believe that this plan could be done in Mexico City. A hundred highly trained and experienced people go in, and each one has two backup men just as good as he is, and they can completely shut the place down in a matter of minutes. They can make everything happen that the earthquake people are afraid of.”
“The report says it doesn’t take a hundred guys. It says they can do the main part of it with a handful.”
Immelmann said to Kepler, “You can tell that Chinese Gordon is not yet satisfied with the behavior of our public servants.”
“He’s disappointed.”
“Miffed.”
“Piqued.”
“Vexed.”
“Irked.”
“He doesn’t seem prepared to accept the limitations Fate has placed on him.”
“What limitations?” asked Chinese Gordon.
“Silence, please.” Kepler held up his free hand. “The village elders are considering your case.” To Immelmann he said, “A tired old story of thwarted ambition.”
“Complicated by extreme greed.”
Doctor Henry Metzger appeared on the workbench along the far wall of the shop, stepped easily among the clutter of tools and machine parts without touching any of them, and dropped to the floor. Immelmann said, “Hey, Chinese. How does that cat get in and out of here like that? Everything is all closed up.”
Chinese Gordon’s jaw clenched. He said quietly, “I don’t know.”
“Maybe the dog has a key,” said Kepler. Then he added, “This is obviously a sore subject, like being beaten up by dwarfs.”
“Chinese,” said Immelmann, “what you have to do is get some perspective. Considering who we were trying to blackmail, I’d say we did pretty well just to get out of it in one piece.”
“You mean you’re ready to give up?”
“I’m not ready to declare war, destroy a major city, or take over a country, even if the CIA provides a foolproof recipe. I don’t need the additional responsibility of owning a country at this time. Besides, I think you’re not paying attention to what the report has to teach us. Not the details, but the papers as a whole.”
Kepler said, “Just what I was trying to say before. The fact that the CIA lets the Mexican government tell it how to take over Mexico City should suggest to you that these are not people we can handle with much confidence. Not only did they behave in an ungentlemanly manner with the Mexicans, but the man who let us get these papers managed to live a whole two days afterward. Writ large across every page is: ‘These Are People Around With Whom Thou Shalt Not Screw.’”
Chinese Gordon sat motionless on the steps as Doctor Henry Metzger jumped to his lap, then climbed over his shoulder to continue up the stairs to the balcony where Margaret stood.
“I wish you’d listen to Chinese,” she said. “You’re both being silly. We don’t want to do anything as drastic as this contingency plan. We just want to remind them that we have it and understand it and that we can think of some vivid ways to reveal it.”
Immelmann said, “When you say not drastic, what do you mean?”
“It’s little enough to ask,” she said.
“But what is it?”
“Just close down Los Angeles for a day.”
Kepler lifted his beer can and drank, then said, “You know that if we get caught at it they’ll recognize we were following their plan. It’ll be the first time this year that four people hang themselves in prison on the same day.”
“We won’t get caught,” said Chinese Gordon. “The plan is perfect.”
Margaret smiled. “It’ll make us all feel so much better.”
“IT WAS WHEN I WAS GETTING those wrong numbers that time. I knew if I didn’t convince myself it was the circuits, I was going to go crazy. I’d call the police and this big fat voice would come on: ‘Go…fuck…yourself,’ and then hang up.” Immelmann shook his head and stared at the floor. “It was frightening. So I went down to Santa Monica to the big office and picked up this pamphlet and read it.”
“Did you figure it out?” said Margaret, taking the pamphlet.
“No. That’s the drawback. The system is so big and complicated they’re the only ones who can figure it out. Just the name of it tells you that. The COSMIC Distributing Frame.”
“There may be religious implications in this,” said Kepler. “Most of the world’s religions started within fifty miles of here.”
Margaret read, “‘The COSMIC Distributing Frame at the South Grand Avenue switching station is the largest in the world, with a capacity of one million four hundred and forty thousand cable pairs and internal equipment lines.’”
“And to think they can still manage to connect Immelmann with the Holy Ghost,” Kepler said.
“It sounds too big,” said Chinese Gordon.
Margaret read on, “‘The miracle that makes the COSMIC frame possible is the revolutionary PACE computer- based system. With the PACE (Program for Arrangement of Cables and Equipment) only six rows of modules are necessary.’”
Chinese Gordon said, “How long is a row, and what’s a module?”
“More of the universal questions that only the anointed can answer.” Kepler poured a drop of beer on his own head and assumed a thoughtful expression. “No, that doesn’t help.”
“I’m coming to it,” Margaret said. “‘No line need be more than six and a half feet long.’ So it can’t be very big.”
“They’ll have a hell of a time calling for the repairman,” said Chinese Gordon. “Isn’t technology wonderful?”
Kepler nodded. “Sure beats shooting a couple of thousand operators.”
MARGARET’S PLAIN CHARCOAL GRAY JACKET and skirt seemed to change her even more than the wig and glasses, and there was something about the way she carried the little leather case that made it look as though she might pull something out of it that would change someone’s life—maybe a short list of people whose services were no longer necessary.
Chinese Gordon watched the receptionist’s face as Margaret said, “Miss Briggs.” The black plastic plate on the front of the desk said Carolyn Briggs, but Miss Briggs looked startled and seemed to grow pale. “Yes. May I help you?” It was so early in the morning for visitors.
