Daughter of Regals (21 page)

TRANSMUTATION IRREVERSIBLE

PROGNOSIS

PATIENT WILL BECOME DANGEROUS

TO HIMSELF AND WILL CAUSE FEAR IN

OTHERS REPEAT WILL CAUSE FEAR

TREATMENT

STUDY RECOMMENDED BUT

DESTRUCTION IMPERATIVE REPEAT

IMPERATIVE REPEAT IMPERATIVE EFFECT

SOONEST….

“What
did it say?” the woman said.

For a
moment,
Norman
did not answer.
His lump was as hard as a magnacite nail driven into his skull. Then he said, “It
said I should get some rest. It said I’ve been working too hard. It said I
should go to the Hospital if I don’t feel better tomorrow.” Before the woman
could stop him, he pressed the buttons that erased the terminal’s memory. The
terminal was just like the one he used in the National Library, and he knew
what to do. After erasing, he programmed the terminal to cancel everything that
had happened today. Then he fed in a cancel program to wipe out everything in
the terminal. He did not know what good that would do, but he did it anyway.

He
expected the woman to try to stop him, but she did not. She had no idea what he
was doing.

He was
sweating, and his pulse was too fast. He was so uneasy that his stomach hurt.
That had never happened to him before. He left the office without saying
anything to the woman. His knees were trembling. As he walked down the corridor
of the Iatrogenics Wing, his biomitter was saying in blue reassuring letters,
You
will be OK. You will be OK.

Apparently, his erasures
were successful. In the next few days, nothing happened to him as a result of
Doctor Brett’s report. By the time he had returned home from the
Medical
Building
, his readout had regained its placid green,
You are OK.

He did
this deliberately. He did not feel OK. He felt uneasy. But he did not want his
biomitter to send him to the
General
Hospital
. So while
his mobile drove him home he made an effort to seem OK. The touch of his lump
gave him a strange reassurance, and after a while his pulse, blood pressure,
respiration, and reflexes had be-come as steady as usual.

And at
home everything seemed perfectly sane, perfectly safe. He woke up every
morning at the signal of his biomitter, went to work at the signal of his
biomitter, ate lunch at the signal of his biomitter. This was reassuring. It
reassured him that his biomitter took such good care of him. Without it, he
might have worked all day without lunch, reading, sorting the mountain of
discarded books in the storeroom, feeding them into the Reference Computer. At
times like that, his uneasiness went away. He went borne again at the end of
the day at the signal of his biomitter.

But at
home his uneasiness returned. Something was happening inside him. Every
morning, he saw in the mirror that his lump was growing. It was clearly a horn
now— a pointed shaft as white as bone. It was full of strength. When it was
more than four inches long, he tested it on the mirror. The mirror was made of
glasteel so that it could never shatter and hurt anybody. But he scratched it
easily with the tip of his horn. Scratching it took no effort at all.

And
that was not the only change. The soles of his feet were growing harder. His
feet seemed to be getting shorter. They were starting to look like hooves.

Tufts of
pure white hair as clean as the sky were sprouting from the backs of his
calves and the back of his neck.

Something
that might have been a tail grew out of the small of his back.

But
these things were not what made him uneasy. And he was not uneasy because he
was thinking that someone from the Hospital might come to destroy him. He was
not thinking that at all. He was being careful; he did not let himself think
anything that might make his biomitter call for help. No, he was uneasy because
he could not understand what Sally and Enwell were doing about what was
happening to him.

They
were not doing anything. They were ignoring the changes in him as if he looked
just the same as always.

Everything
was perfectly sane, perfectly safe, to them.

First
this made him uneasy. Then it made him angry. Something important was happening
to him, and they did not even see it. Finally at breakfast one morning he became
too irritated to be careful. Enwell’s biomitter signalled that it was time for
him to go to school. He mumbled, “Got to go,” and left the table. Soon he had
left the house.
Norman
watched
his son go. Then he said to Sally, “Who taught him to do that?”

She did
not look up from her soyham. “Do what?” she said.

“Go to
school,” he said. “Obey his biomitter. We never taught him to do that.”

Sally’s
mouth was full. She waited until she swallowed. Then she said, “Everybody does
it.”

The way
she said it made his muscles tighten. A line of sweat ran down his back. For an
instant, he wanted to hit the table with his hand—hit it with the hard flat
place on the palm of his hand. He felt sure he could break the table.

Then
his biomitter signalled to him. Automatically, he left the table. He knew what
to do. He always knew what to do when his biomitter signalled. He went out to
the garage and got into his mobile. He strapped himself into the’ seat. He did
not notice what he was doing until he saw that his hands had punched in the
address of the
General
Hospital
.

At
once, he cancelled the address, unstrapped himself and got out of the mobile.
His heart was beating too fast.

His
biomitter was saying without being asked,
Go to the Hospital. You will be
OK.
The letters were yellow.

His
hands trembled. But he tapped onto the display,
I am OK.
Then he went
back into the house.

Sally
was cleaning the kitchen, as she always did after breakfast. She did not look
at him.

“Sally,”
he said. “I want to talk to you. Something’s happening to me.”

“It’s
time to clean the kitchen,” she said. “I heard the signal.”

“Clean
the kitchen later,” he said. “I want to talk to you. Something’s happening to
me.”

“I
heard the signal,” she said. “It’s time to clean the kitchen now.”

“Look
at me,” he said.

She did
not look at him. Her hands were busy wiping scraps of soyham into the
vacuum-sink, where they were sucked away.

“Look
at me”, he said. He took hold of her shoulders with his hands and made her face
him. It was easy. He was strong. “Look at my forehead.”

She did
not look at him. Her face screwed up into tight knots and ridges. It turned
red. Then she began to cry. She wailed and wailed, and her legs did not hold
her up. When he let her go, she sank to the floor and folded up into a ball and
wailed. Her biomitter said to her in blue,
You will be OK. You will be OK.
But
she did not see it. She cried as if she were terrified.

Norman
felt sick in his stomach. But his carefulness had come back. He
left his wife and went’ back to the garage. He got into his mobile and punched
in an address only ten houses away down the road. His mobile left the garage
smoothly and eased itself into the perfectly sane flow of the traffic. When it
parked at the address he had given it, he did not get out. He sat in his seat
and watched his house.

Before
long, an ambulance rolled up to it. Men in white coats went in. They came out
carrying Sally in a stretcher. They loaded her carefully into the ambulance and
drove away.

Because he did not know
what else to do, he punched the address of the National Library into the
console of his mobile and went to work. The careful part of him knew that he
did not have much time. He knew (everyone knew) that his biomitter was his
friend. But now he also knew that it would not be long before his biomitter
betrayed him. The rebellion in his genes was becoming too strong. It could not
stay secret much longer. And he still did not know what was happening to him.
He wanted to use the time to find out, if he could. The Library was the best
place for him to go.

But
when he reached his desk with its computer console like the one in Doctor
Brett’s outer office, he did not know what to do. He had never done any
research before. He did not know anyone who had ever done any research. His job
was to sort books, to feed them into the Reference Computer. He did not even
know what he was looking for.

Then he
had an idea. He keyed his terminal into the Reference Computer and programmed
it for autos can. Then he tapped in his question, using the “personal information”
code which was supposed to keep his question and answer from tying up the
general circuits of the Library and bothering the Director. He asked:

I HAVE
HOOVES, A TAIL, WHITE HAIR, AND A HORN IN THE MIDDLE OF MY FOREHEAD. WHAT AM I?

After a
short pause, the display ran numbers which told
Norman
his answer was coming from the 1976
Encyclopedia
Americana
.
That Encyclopedia was a century out of date, but it was the most
recent one in the Library. Apparently, people had not bothered to make Encyclopedias
for a long time.

Then
the display said:

ANSWER
UNICORN

DATA
FOLLOWS

His
uneasiness suddenly became sharper. There was a sour taste in his mouth as he
scanned the readout.

THE
UNICORN IS A MYTHOLOGICAL BEAST

USUALLY
DEPICTED AS A LARGE HORSE

WITH
A SINGLE HORN ON ITS FOREHEAD

Sweat
ran into his eyes. He missed a few lines while he blinked to clear his sight.

IT
REPRESENTED CHASTITY AND PURITY

THOUGH
IT WOULD FIGHT SAVAGELY

WHEN
CORNERED IT COULD BE TAMED BY

A
VIRGIN’S TOUCH IN SOME

INTERPRETATIONS
THE UNICORN IS

ASSOCIATED
WITH THE VIRGIN MARY IN

OTHERS
IT REPRESENTS CHRIST THE

REDEEMER

Then to
his surprise the display showed him a picture of a unicorn. It was prancing
high on its strong clean legs, and its coat was as pure as the stars, and its
eyes shone. Its mane flew like the wind. Its long white horn was as strong as
the sun. At the sight, all his uneasiness turned into joy. The unicorn was
beautiful. It was beautiful. He was going to be beautiful. For a long time, he
made the display hold that picture, and he stared at it and stared at it.

But
after his joy receded a little, and the display went blank, he began to think.
He felt that he was thinking for the first time in his life. His thoughts were
clear and necessary and quick.

He
understood that he was in danger. He was in danger from his biomitter. It was a
hazard to him. It was only a small thing, a metasensor that monitored his body
for signs of illness; but it was linked to the huge computers of the
General
Hospital
, and when his metabolism passed beyond the parameters of safety,
sanity, his biomitter would summon the men in white coats. For the first time
in his life, he felt curious about it. He felt that he needed to know more
about it.

Without
hesitation, he tapped his question into the Reference Computer, using his
personal information code. He asked:

ORIGIN
AND FUNCTION OF BIOMITTER?

The
display ran numbers promptly and began a readout.

WORLDWIDE
VIOLENCE CRIME WAR

INSANITY
OF 20TH CENTURY SHOWED

HUMANS
CAPABLE OF

SELF-EXTERMINATION
OPERATIVE CAUSE

WAS
FEAR REPEAT FEAR RESEARCH

DEMONSTRATED
HUMANS WITHOUT FEAR

NONVIOLENT
SANE

POLICE
EDUCATION PEACE TREATIES

INADEQUATE
TO CONTROL FEAR OF

INDIVIDUAL
HUMANS BUT SANE

INDIVIDUAL
HUMANS NOT PRONE TO

VIOLENCE
WAR TREATIES POLICE

WEAPONS
UNNECESSARY IF INDIVIDUAL IS

NOT
AFRAID

TREATMENT

BIOMITTER
MEDICOMPUTER NETWORK

INITIATED
FOR ALL INDIVIDUALS

MONITOR
PHYSIOLOGICAL SIGNS OF

EMOTION
STRESS ILLNESS CONDITIONED

RESPONSES
INBRED TO CONTROL

BEHAVIOR
FEAR***CROSS REFERENCE

PAVLOV
BEHAVIOR MODIFICATION

SUBCONSCIOUS
HYPNOTISM

SUCCESS
OF BIOMITTER PROGRAMME