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Encephalograms, Barnes said, nodding in agreement. A massive, intensive study of Cordon s
mind brain, whichever.
Gram said, You ve got to remember the image Irma has vis-à-vis the public. We know what
she s really like, but they think of her as a kindly, generous, philanthropic do-gooder who sponsors
charities and generally beautifying public works, such as floating gardens in the sky. But we know
So, Barnes interrupted, the public will think that Cordon has murdered a harmless, loving
person. A terrible crime, even in the eyes of Under Men. Everyone will be glad when Cordon is
killed immediately after his vicious, senseless act. That is, if Ild s brain is good enough to fool the
Unusuals, the telepaths. In his mind he could imagine the synthetic brain sending Cordon ricocheting
about the hanging arena, mowing people down by the hundreds.
No, Gram said, picking up his thoughts once again. We ll gun him down immediately. There s
no chance of a foul-up there. Sixteen armed men, all crack shots, will fire on him instantaneously.
Instantaneously, Barnes said dryly, after he s managed to shoot one particular person out of a
crowd of thousands. He would have to be a damn good shot.
But they ll think he was after me, Gram reminded him. And I ll be sitting in the front row . . .
Irma with me.
In any case, he isn t going to be gunned down instantaneously , Barnes pointed out. A second
or two will have to elapse, while he makes his shot. And if he s a little off you re sitting right beside
her.
Hm, Gram said, chewing his lip.
A slip of inches, Barnes said, and it would be you, not Irma. I think your attempt to combine
your problems with the Under Men and Cordon and your problems with Irma into one big colorful
operatic smash-finale is a little too He pondered. There s a Greek word for it.
Terpsichore, Gram said.
No, Barnes said. Hubris. Trying too much; going too far.
I still agree with Council Chairman Gram, Alice Noyes said in her brisk, cold-crimson voice.
Admittedly, it s daring. But it will solve so much. A man who rules, as does the Council Chairman,
must be able to make such a decision, to try daring maneuvers to keep the structure functioning. In
this one act
I m resigning as Police Director, Barnes said.
Why? Gram asked, surprised; obviously no thoughts passing through Barnes mind had
forewarned him of this the decision came out of nowhere.
Because it will probably mean your death, Barnes said. Because Amos Ild will program it to
get you, not Irma.
I have an idea, Alice Noyes said. As Cordon is led to the center of the arena, Irma Gram will
descend from her place, carrying one white rose. She will hold it out to Cordon, and at that moment he
will grab a weapon from a too-lax guard and shoot her. She smiled thinly, her usually dim eyes
glittering. That ought to undermine them forever. An act of senseless viciousness like that; only a
madman would kill a woman bringing him a white rose.
Why white? Barnes asked.
Why what white? Noyes asked.
The rose, the goddam rose.
Because it s a symbol of innocence, Noyes said.
Willis Gram, still chewing on his lip, still scowling, said, No, that won t do. He s got to seem
to be trying to get me, because he would have a motive for getting me. But what motive would he have
for killing Irma?
To kill she, who you most love.
Barnes laughed.
What s funny? Gram demanded.
Maybe it ll work, Barnes said. That s what s so funny about it. And To kill she, who you
most love. Can I quote you on that, Noyes? A model sentence all school children should learn; it
parses so well.
Academics, Noyes said scathingly.
Hoarsely, his face red, Gram said to Barnes, I don t care about her grammar. I don t care about
my grammar. I don t care about anybody s grammar. All I care about is that this is a good plan and
she agrees, and you ve resigned as of now. So you have no further vote on the matter . . . anyhow, if I
decide to accept your resignation. I ll have to think about it. I ll tell you sometime; you can wait. His
voice submerged itself into an autistic mumble at that point as he mulled over the matter under
scrutiny. All at once, he glanced up at Barnes and said, You re in a strange mood. You usually go
along with everything I suggest. What s gotten into you?
3XX24J, Barnes said.
What s that?
A sample Under Men apartment we re watching. We ve been doing a statistical analysis with
the Wyoming computer as to the characteristics of those who come and go.
And you just got news you don t like.
I got a very small piece of news, Barnes said. One average citizen, who apparently heard that
Cordon is going to be executed, all at once stepped across the line. Someone we had just tested, as a
matter of fact. The computer didn t like that at all. Such a swing, such amplitude in loyalty, and in
such a short time . . . announcing Cordon s execution may have been a mistake a mistake which we
can still redeem. The judges could change their minds again. He added sardonically, but straight-
faced, I have an idea of a minor alteration in your plan, Council Chairman. Have Cordon s weapon a
fake, too, along with him. He points the gun and fires , and then at the same moment a sharpshooter
hidden nearby Irma takes the actual shot at her. That way the chances of hitting you can be reduced
practically to zero.
A good thought, Gram said, nodding.
You would take such a suggestion seriously? Barnes asked.
It s a good suggestion. It overrides the element which you brought up, as to what
Barnes said, You must untangle your public life from your private life. You ve got them all
mixed in together.
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