Hunted Head - Страница 5

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Answer to one problem; why Marius had driven so fast. The gathering was breaking up, group after group removing their cups to a counter and departing. Another five minutes and the room might have been empty.

Sandy tried to get some idea of what the nearest groups were discussing, but apart from the occasional technical term they all appeared to be using a language that she could not even identify.

One group consisted of about a dozen people, so mixed in age, race, sex, and styles of clothing that a statistician might have selected them to represent adult humanity. They were discussing something with great animation, young and old interrupting each other freely.

One man drew her eyes by his quietness. He was also notable for a bald head, crossed by a few wisps of hair, and by an expression of serene and gentle detachment. He spoke only once while she was watching, quite briefly; nobody interrupted him. A minute or so later he stood up, whereat everybody else followed suit and they all left together, the doors dilating to let them through.

“Marius!”

Sandy looked round. Marius was threading his way between tables, carrying something in each hand. He was intercepted by a thickset, untidy looking man who rose hurriedly from a nearby table, glanced round and began speaking rapidly. This time she recognised and understood the language; German.

“That the latest recruit? Look, Marius, I’m spending three-quarters of my time on the sort of work that could be done by a half-trained junior, it’s a ridiculous waste. Can’t you arrange for her to be assigned to me—”

“Carl, you know that I have no power of that sort.”

“You headhunters can do just about anything if you choose—everybody knows that!”

“What everybody knows is usually wrong. Carl, for the simple jobs there are many kinds of automaton, and if you need help in programming them it is available—”

“Damn it, I don’t want a bloody robot, I want somebody who can listen and then do as they’re told!”

Someone at the table he had left called out to him. The man called Carl bellowed a reply, shook his head in a frustrated way, and stumbled back.

Marius reached the table and handed one of his burdens to Sandy. It was a plastic globe about the size of a tennis ball, with a three-inch spout projecting from it.

“Coffee,” he said. “Be careful. It’s hot.” He sat down and inserted the spout of his own globe into a small disc directly below the microphone of his mask.

Sandy copied him. The container had been only faintly warm to the touch, but he was right; the contents were as hot as she could drink. She sipped thoughtfully, then withdrew the spout.

“What was all that about assigning me to him?”

Marius sighed.

“You speak German? Oh, of course. One of your fosterers—”

“Uh-huh.” Well, of course he would have checked her out; he could have got that much from one of several computers, along with her arrival at the orphanage and the various events that had kept her shuttling from one foster-family to the next… She took another sip of coffee.

“Carl,” said Marius judiciously, “is an example of a man who is very clever at his own work and quite stupid over everything else. He remembered to check that there were no German-speakers within earshot; but, knowing that I am at present recruiting from an English-speaking area, it did not occur to him that you might speak German also. And so you are offended, and perhaps alarmed. It is a pity.”

Sandy glared at him. “For you, maybe. How about for me?”

That infinitesimal nod again; it was the reaction he expected. “For you, the danger of possibly acting on a false impression. Carl does not want to get it into his head, but here we have no hierarchy of senior and junior scientists, no underclass of technicians who can be assigned to take orders from him.”

“Then how the hell do you decide who does what?”

Marius took another swallow from his coffee-bulb before he replied.

“Naturally you think in terms of heads of department, professors, assistants, tenure; it is what you are used to. Sometimes it works well and sometimes not; a great deal depends on the man at the top. So it does here, but the top men are not appointed; they are selected by the rest. Did you notice a group over there, quite a large group, who left all together just before I returned?”

“With rather a nice old bald guy pulling the strings?”

Marius gave her a small approving nod.

“They are working together on the design and development of marine ecologies. That is their choice. Each of them when he arrived—or she—was assigned certain responsibilities—”

“Hold on. I thought you said there were no assignments in this place.”

Marius sighed patiently.

“I said that nobody was assigned to work under or for anyone else. When people first arrive, they are assigned responsibilities—on the basis of their qualifications and abilities, and of what needs to be done. Assigned not by any person or even a committee, but by a computer. Almost always the newcomer is assigned to work with another person, so that she can be—shown the ropes.”

“Sounds like a cop-out,” remarked Sandy suspiciously.

“The other person is also selected by the computer, on the basis of his or her record—for achievement in the appropriate fields, but also for willingness to help and guide those who do not yet know their way around. The newcomer is expected to keep these responsibilities—if you like, to work at this job, only we do not speak of jobs here—for at least one month. After that she can request a new assignment, or put up a proposal for work to be done alone. It is not always accepted—maybe the work has been done already, or more experienced workers have proposals to modify it—but in no circumstances is anyone assigned responsibilities that they do not agree to take.”

Sandy gave this suspicious attention.

“Yea, well, sounds good, but—”

“It is as good as we can make it… What else do you want to know?”

“For a start, how could I work here? I don’t know the language. I can’t even make out what it is.”

“Ah. We call it Standard. It was developed around 2600 A.D.”

Sandy stifled a gasp.

“I’m not that much of a linguist—”

“Standard can be imprinted directly to the brain. That is how I learned it myself; also English.”

“So that’s—” She suppressed the comment. “Well, there’s the usual stuff—pay. Conditions. Like that.”

“Pay…” Marius shrugged. “If you want money you can have it, but few people do. Food and accommodation are provided. Otherwise, just ask for what you want and it will be obtained.”

“What, anything?”

“Within reason. For your work, anything at all. Though if it is equipment that cannot be obtained without a great deal of trouble—for instance, a machine restricted to the laboratories of one of the more paranoid governments—the Purchasing Department may suggest alternatives. Often there will be an improved model on general sale in twenty years or so.

“For your personal use, or pleasure, anything that can be obtained through, one of our purchasing stations would be supplied without question. But other items…” He paused, thoughtfully. “A man asked for a Shakespeare First Folio once. It was available, of course, from the printers, in 1623; but the Purchasing Department decided that it would use up too many man-hours of an agent’s lifetime, and suggested he should go and buy it himself. They supplied the appropriate cash and clothes, but what with learning to wear them, acquiring the accent and vocabulary—from imprinting tapes, but he had to practice afterwards—and having to go through full-body decontamination when he returned, it took up the whole of his annual leave. He wanted to fit in some performances at the Globe, but—”

“Hold on,” said Sandy urgently. “Decontamination? ”

“Why do you think we are wearing these suits? Bacteria and viruses that are harmless in a period when people have acquired immunity, may be extremely troublesome here. If you agree to join us, you will have to go through decontamination. It takes a couple of days. It is done under electroanaesthesia, so there is no unpleasantness—except for a feeling like a very mild hangover, which lasts for an hour or so. I have taken it several times… but always for some serious purpose. Money is plentiful here, but we do not waste lifetime.”

“Where do you get your money from, anyway?”

“Access to past times,” said Marius patiently, “enables us to acquire goods quite legitimately, which can be sold for large sums in more recent place-times. For instance there is a source of very fine emeralds in Eocene Patagonia, in rocks subducted long before the appearance of the genus Homo. Works of art can be bought at source for a fair price, and sold centuries later for a thousand times as much. The money is then invested, and can be drawn on at need.”

Sandy was beginning to feel lightheaded. There were more questions that ought to be asked—things any right-minded scientist would want to know about, like superannuation and holidays and medical services, and she couldn’t bring herself to give a damn… Well, Marius’s latest demonstration had answered at least one of them. Compare the crowd who had just walked out of here with the College faculty; plenty of oldsters, but they walked like forty-year-olds, not a creaking joint amongst them and not a pill-box in sight… And all those cups stacked on the serving tables had just quietly disappeared when she wasn’t looking, so no likelihood of finding herself on a washing-up rota…