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Twelve, when Item Seven was introduced, Number Eleven let loose a bellow of laughter
which ricocheted around the walls of the room.
Number Three came in as thinly and meanly as ever; he lacked a sense of humour, like all
associated with the KGB. He explained at some length that detailed information had come
from agents in England who operated under the cover of a furniture removal business.
Mistaking his cue, and determined to be first in the field for once, Number Eleven let out
another wild snort at this statement, much in the style of a neighing horse.
Number Three continued, even more meanly than before, by pointing out that a large
diversion of effort towards cometary research had been made both in the United States and
in Germany. The Japanese, who had previously had a strong programme in the field, were
reported to be increasing their efforts still more. All this had occurred immediately following
events in Britain, which in the opinion of AOK (Extra-Terrestrial Disinformation) went to show
that those events were being taken seriously. With these remarks delivered, Number Three
sniffed. It was only a small sound, but to members it sounded just as loud as the erstwhile
laughter of Number Eleven.
Number Two now wanted to know how Number Three could be certain they were not dealing
with a case of disinformation, a trick to divert Soviet effort in high technology into a useless
activity.
'Remember,' he told the meeting, 'the Greeks only tell the truth once a year.'
This old Russian proverb triggered a brainstorm in Number Twelve. Here it must be
explained that whereas most societies invent four or five classes into which their people are
divided, the Russians had invented a hundred. There was even a class division within the
Politburo itself, with those up to Number Eleven being styled 'full members' and those from
Number Twelve to Number Nineteen being accorded the inferior status of 'candidates'. Thus
Number Twelve was on the verge of a major quantum jump. Hence the brainstorm which
provoked his immediate response to Number Two, which did not allow Number Three time
for a reply - but in some degree relieved him of the need to do so.
'It occurs to me,' said Number Twelve, 'that if we tickle ourselves we can laugh when we
like.'
At this, Number Eleven let loose with his loudest bellow of the morning. But since no one
else joined him, Number Eleven knew that he had made yet another mistake and the roar
died in a gulp, as if he had suddenly run out of breath.
'What I had in mind,' continued Number Twelve smoothly, 'was that at little cost to ourselves
we can turn this business to our advantage.'
At this he stopped, whereon Number One nodded and asked:
'What have you in mind?'
Number Twelve now spoke slowly, carefully emphasising each word:
'I have in mind that if intelligent signals are reaching the Earth from outside, it might be a
good plan to arrange for some signals of our own. It would be easy to arrange for a vehicle
of ours to transmit a message with an intelligible form, a message that we can decode but
others cannot.'
'What would be the advantage of that?' Number Three wanted to know.
'The message could have an important sociological involvement.'
'Which would be apparent to our people, who would be in a position to profit from it, even if
others did not,' agreed Number One from the chair.
So it came about that the meeting agreed to launch a space station dedicated to
transmitting back to Earth a Marxist-Leninist interpretation of society, of life generally, and of
the Universe at large. Number Ten, who had been unfortunate enough to nick himself with
the French-manufactured razor that morning, inadvertently jolted the small blood clot,
causing it to bleed again. It wouldn't be long, he thought as he dabbed himself, before
Number Twelve was treading on
his own heels, since it was patently obvious that poor old Number Eleven was
down-and-going. Number Ten tried hard to think of a proverb that would come close to
matching Number Two, but all he could think of was: 'In the pond of lies only dead fish swim.'
Chapter 31
'It is unacceptable for civilians to be involved in any form of extraterrestrial activity in respect
of intelligible signals,' said the five-star General to the NASA Chief Administrator.
'We hardly know yet that we're dealing with intelligible signals,' the NASA Chief
Administrator replied calmly, hoping the old adage about soft words soothing the savage
breast would prove to be true on this occasion.
'Comets or whatever,' the five-star General continued, drawing steadily on his cigar.
'It would mean discontinuing a promising programme,' the Chief Administrator countered,
'which in any case the British and Germans are engaged in already.'
'The British capability is nil, and the Germans not much better. So I'm not losing any sleep in
those areas,' the General boomed, smoking his cigar in passable imitation of the Chairman
of the Federal Reserve, whose money-bags the General had every intention of having
allocated to the Pentagon, in imitation of his counterparts in the Soviet Union.
'I think it would be as well if we had rules which defined exactly where we stand,' the Chief
Administrator continued, more mildly than he felt.
The problem for the Chief Administrator was not so much where NASA stood with the
Pentagon as where NASA stood with the White House. His suspicion, and hence his
mildness, as well as the fact that he had come cap-in-hand to the Pentagon at the General's [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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