“You can go to hell,” said Brent lightly but firmly. “All two of you.”
“Do not be too clever, my frienci. Remember that I be Stapper and can—”
“You be two Stappers, which may turn out to be a little awkward. But you could be a regiment of Stappers, and I still wouldn’t play ball. Your plan stinks, Bokor, and you know what you can do with it.”
Bokor Sub-One took the idiom literally. “Indeed I do know, Brent. It willed have beed easier with your aid, but even without you it will succeed.” He drew out his rod and contemplated it reflectively. “No,” he murmured, “there bees no point to taking you in and changing your mind. You be harmless to me, and your liberation of travelers will be useful.”
The original Bokor opened his eyes. “We will meet again, Brent. And you will see what one man with daring mind can accomplish in this world.” Bokor and Bokor Sub-One walked to the door and turned. “And for bond,” they spoke in unison, in parody of the conventional Stappers phrase, “State thanks you.”
Brent stood alone in the room, but the black-eyed domination of the two Bokors lingered about him. The plan was so damned plausible, so likely to succeed if put into operation. Man has always dreamed of power. But damn it, man has always dreamed of love, too, and of the rights of his fellow man. The only power worthy of man is the power of all mankind struggling together toward a goal of unobtainable perfection.
And what could Bokor do against Kruj and Mimi and Nikobat and the others that Kruj reported sympathetic?
Nevertheless there had been a certainty in those vast eyes that the double Bokor knew what he could do.
The release of the travelers was a fabulous episode. Stephen had frowned and Brent had laughed when Martha said simply, “Only person who haves power to release them bees Head of State by will of Cosmos. Very well. We will persuade him to do so.” But she insisted, and she had been so uncannily right ever since the explosion of the second Barrier that at last, when Kruj had made his final report, Brent accompanied her on what he was certain was the damnedest fool errand he’d got himself into yet.
Kruj’s report was encouraging. There were two, perhaps three, among the travelers who had Bokorian ideas of taking over the State for their own purposes. But these were far outweighed by the dozens who saw the tremendous possibilities of a reawakening of mankind. The liberation was proved a desirable thing, but why should the Head of State so readily loose disrupters of his Stasis?
Getting to see the Head of State took the best part of a day. There were countless minor officials to be interviewed, all of them guarded by Stappers who looked upon the supposed Slanduch envoy with highly suspicious eyes. But one by one, with miraculous consistency, these officials beamed upon Brent’s errand and sent him on with the blessing of Cosmos.
“You wouldn’t like to pinch me?” he murmured to Martha after the fifth such success. “This works too easy. It can’t be true.”
Martha looked at him blankly and said, “I don’t understand it. But what be we going to say?”
Brent jumped. “Hey! Look, madam. This was all your idea. You were going to talk the Head of State into—”
But a Stapper was already approaching to conduct them to the next office, and Brent fell silent.
It was in the anteroom of the Head of State that they met Bokor. Just one of him this time. He smiled confidentially at Brent and said, “Shocking accident today. Stapper killed in fight with prisoner. Odd thing—Stapper beed second in succession to Chief of Stappers.”
“You’re doing all right,” said Brent.
“I be curious to see what you plan here. How do you hope to achieve this liberation? I talked with Head of State yesterday and he bees strongly opposed.”
“Brother,” said Brent sincerely, “I wish I knew.”
In a moment Bokor ushered them into the sanctum sanctorum of the Head of State. This great dignitary was at first glance a fine figure of a man, tall and well built and noble. It was only on second glance that you noticed the weak lips and the horribly empty eyes. The stern and hawk-nosed Chief of Stappers stood beside him.
“Well!” the latter snapped. “Speak your piece!”
Brent faltered and glanced at Martha. She looked as vacant and helpless as ever she had before the Barrier. He could only fumble on and pray that her unrevealed scheme would materialize.
“As you know, sir,” he began, “I, as interpreter, have beed in very close contact with travelers. Having in my mind good of Cosmos and wishing to see it as rich and fully developed as possible, it seems to me that much may be accomplished by releasing travelers so that they may communicate with people.” He gulped and swore at himself for venturing such an idiotic request.
The empty eyes of the Head of State lit up for a moment. “Excellent idea,” he boomed in a dulcet voice. “You have permission of State and Cosmos. Chief, I give orders that all travelers be released.”
Brent heard Bokors incredulous gasp behind him. The Chief of Stappers muttered “Cosmos!” fervently. The Head of State looked around him for approval and then reverted to formal vacancy.
“I thank State,” Brent managed to say, “for this courageous move.”
“What bees courageous?” the Head demanded. His eyes shifted about nervously. “What have I doed? What have I sayed?”
The Chief of Stappers bowed. “You have proclaimed freedom of travelers. May I, too, congratulate you on wisdom of action?” He turned to Bokor. “Go and give necessary orders.”
Martha did not say a word till they were outside. Then she asked, “What happened? Why in Cosmos’ name doed he consent?”
“Madam, you have me there. But you should know. It was all your idea.”
Understanding came back to her face. “Of course. It bees time
