Charles E. Fritch

“ Plans were folded, locked securely into desks, and workers filed past probing mechanical eyes that scanned them for anything hidden. Doors whirred open electrically, and humanity poured through them into tubecars which hissed with sickening speed to the helibus terminal.
Arthur flowed into a helibus with the others, and his heart gave a sudden jump as he saw a familiar blonde form ahead of him. Julie! He wormed his way forward and sank onto the air-cushion beside her. She did not look at him. The helibus lurched skyward. ”

“ Julie said, puzzled. "You two know each other?"
"We were in the war together," the Captain said.
Arthur rose unsteadily. "I'd like you people to meet my best friend, George Keating."
"But—"
"We decided some time ago that Earth is no place for an underground movement," Arthur said. "There's too much secrecy, too much danger involved in the slightest movement away from the established pattern. People are too involved with the Super State idea and the dangers to their own particular skins." Like my wife, Helen, he thought to himself. ”

“ The television set was blaring: "Nothing could be greater than to have a respirator made by Fra-a-a-a-nklin!" On the 40-inch screen a happy couple, Franklin respirators on their happy wrists, were bouncing happily across a miniature solar system, using planets for stepping stones.
I must be an atavist, he thought. How can people actually put up with this stuff. He could not subdue the grimace that rose automatically, but he managed to turn it into a grin as he saw Helen looking at him curiously. ”

“ They entered a large room and the door slid into place behind them. Arthur strained his eyes, blinded temporarily by the light. Unfamiliar faces stared at him, about twenty of them. Men and women of all ages. He started suddenly. There, grinning pleasantly at him, was Austen, the young fellow from the office.
"Are we all here?" Julie wanted to know.
"Yes, we were waiting for you," a voice said.
Arthur whirled. "You?"
"Everything okay, Dunlop?" Samson asked, smiling.
"Simply great," he answered, a little weakly.
"What kept you?" Samson asked Julie.
"He was delayed by a robot." ”

“ There was awe and wonder in his voice.
"You can," Keating said, "if necessary." His eyes narrowed. "It's a perfect target, a sitting duck from the sky. Who owns the Moon controls Earth."
"I'd like to apologize," Samson said, offering his outstretched hand to Arthur.
"Me, too," Julie said.
"I'll accept both apologies," Arthur Dunlop said, "but from you, Julie, I won't settle for a handshake."
Julie took the hint.
"We have a lot of time yet, so we may as well all relax," Keating announced. "Arthur and I can brief you on the situation as it stands." He grinned. "If he ever comes up for air!" ”

“ To offset any possibility of human error, a great machine unemotionally sifted and weighed facts presented to it and arrived at a decision. Either those accused were guilty or they were not guilty, and obviously they were, so the trial itself and Arthur's testimony were matters of formality. The prisoners were, of course, duly convicted and sentenced to life on the Lunar Prison Colony, where life was rumored to be not long. ”

“ Julie explained, her voice hollow, and Arthur nodded. With the coming of the helibus system many years ago, the subways had been discarded and their entrances sealed and checked periodically. Of course, they couldn't know about the monument entrance. At least, they hadn't, Arthur amended, thinking of the silver disc whose emanations could now be easily picked up by the robots.
"Here we are," Julie said, after awhile, coming to a halt before a door. She tapped carefully with the flashlight according to a prearranged signal. ”

“ He crushed the paper in his hand, trying hard not to look around him. WBI. World Bureau of Investigation. Did they suspect? he wondered. He thrust the thought from his mind and made a conscious effort to study the drawing on his desk.
Drawing 2b, one-tenth of the plan for a respirator, newly-designed and improved, streamlined for the year 2108, Arthur could just imagine the advertising they'd do on this model. But the other thought crowded it aside: the underground knew there was a WBI man in the office. ”

“ A manipulation of the dials, a soft pressure on a portion of one wall, and a section slid back to reveal a radio apparatus.
Arthur put the microphone to his lips, spoke swiftly into it, making contact. A furtive voice, crackled and staticky answered in code. Arthur gave his part of the ritual.
"Right," the voice said, relaxing a bit. "Everything okay?"
"Simply great," Arthur said, putting a smile into the phrase. It was good to hear George Keating's voice again. "How's everything up there?"
"Not bad. Nobody suspects anything as far as we know. ”

“ Finally—
"Time to go to bed," a grandfatherly individual intoned gently from the set. "Remember: to bed and to rise at a time not late, makes one healthy and wise for the Super State."
Arthur grimaced at the benign gentleman's countenance, but Helen set about pushing the buttons that would transform the room into a bedroom. ”

“ Papers shuffled that were important somehow to the welfare of the State, and men and women sat and looked at them, checking and rechecking, checking and rechecking, for it was important that nothing should go wrong, any place, in even the slightest aspect. ”

“ Merker, a chubby person with shifting eyes behind thin-lensed glasses; he was okay, for shifting eyes or not, they had all been checked, even as he had been checked. And Austen, the newcomer, only twenty-five and fresh from college, a nervous; restless type of person; he was the most likely suspect for a WBI man, although some might think it would be too obvious—which might in turn tend to prove the point.
Arthur shrugged mentally and returned to his work. ”

“ Keating added, "we've still got a lot of work to do, chiefly on the other side of the Moon where Earth can't see—put the finishing touches on spaceships we've been building, assemble the weapons and the guided missiles. ”