Man of Two Worlds by Frank Herbert
“Father didn’t like that editorial. He thought a city housing commission would cost us plenty.”
“Your father did not share my political ambitions. I’m afraid he never thought much beyond immediate profits.”
“You’d sacrifice immediate profits to gain power?”
“The Presidency can be very profitable if it’s managed correctly. Woon has worked out a winning platform and, once you’re in office, we—”
“I can see it now,” Lutt said. “Vote for Lutt Hanson, Jr. Happiness and a warm puppy for everyone!”
“Joke about it only in private. Woon has the right idea to touch the populist nerve. Your campaign will be based on the slogan, “For the People: Warmth and a Full Stomach.’”
“Isn’t that what I said?”
“I warn you, Lutt. Joke only in private.”
“But of course, Mother.”
“The housing issue is ideal because you’ve already stated your position publicly,” she said. “It will be consistent for you then to propose better municipal railways, higher welfare payments, lower utility bills, that sort of thing.”
“You’ll be promoting voter registration in the Lowtowns next,” Lutt said.
“Woon will do that behind the scenes while you, in the limelight, will urge a stronger national defense and the jobs that go with it.”
“So I’m to run for the Presidency, with Woon and the American Independence party calling the shots.”
“Oh, no! Woon will sabotage the AIP by making it appear to be the puppet of the wealthy and privileged few. At the same time, with his secret guidance, you will bring back the Grand Old Party as the champion of the poor.”
“Mother, you are incredible!”
“I knew you’d go along with my ambitions for you.”
“No, Mother, I’m not going to make a fool of myself, even for you. There’s no way you can convince people the Hansons are the champions of the poor.”
“You underestimate me, Lutt.”
“Wrong, Mother. I’ll never do that again.”
The hard gleam remained in her eyes but she spoke softly. “In some ways, Lutt, you’re brighter than Morey. I’m going to trust your intelligence. We have the perfect issue to guarantee you will be President.”
“Empty the head and fill the gut, bread and circuses and a good lay every Saturday.”
“You are worst when you’re uncouth! Be still and pay attention! No one else knows it, but we captured one of the attackers at our compound and we have that attacker hidden away under guard.”
“You captured a commando of the Foreign Legion?”
“A commando, but not of the Legion. Disguised as a legionnaire but actually an alien, an invader from space.”
Did they capture a Dreen agent? Ryll asked. Find out!
Stop distracting me. I have to learn what she’s plotting. She’s more devious than L.H.!
“How the hell does a captured alien guarantee my election?” he asked.
“The alien will be produced at the proper moment. He is involved in a plot to destroy Earth and admits it. He will say so publicly. There is a terrible ship out there in space prepared to erase us! You will be elected on a platform to repel this invasion and, of course, provide many defense jobs in the process.”
It’s a Dreen! Ryll intruded. Has to be.
“I’ve changed my mind, Mother,” Lutt said. “I’m going along with you, but not for the reasons you think.”
“Just as long as your reasons don’t confuse matters, Son.”
“This is a real threat, Mother. I have my own reasons to believe those aliens intend to do away with us. I’ll run on a platform of meeting the threat, but it’s not going to be treated as a phony issue.”
“Of course not! Sincerity wins votes. But if the alien we captured is any example, they’re bumbling incompetents. We’ll have no trouble defeating them.”
“I want to meet this alien right now.”
It has to be a Dreen, Ryll intruded. I will talk to him.
You will be silent unless I permit you to speak!
“It’s a good idea for you to meet the alien,” Phoenicia said, “but first we install Morey at The Company’s offices.”
“Later, Mother. Father left the place full of death traps.”
“You survived them!”
“I’m brighter than Morey, remember?”
“You’ll have to instruct him in how to use the office.”
“If it suits me. But that’s my only hole card, Mother. I’m not going to give it up unless I see an advantage.”
“Your father said you’d be a hard bargainer. That’s good, but don’t carry it too far with me. You’re my son, but The Company must be preserved. How do you know the alien threat is real?”
She’s trying to catch you with a quick change of subject! Ryll warned. Don’t tell her about me!
When Lutt didn’t answer, she said, “It’s that crazy talk about an alien in your body! There’s something in that!”
Tell her about the collision with my ship, Ryll said. That was the first erasure ship. Say you learned its secret.
You’re learning how to lie pretty well, Ryll.
I have excellent teachers! Besides, what I’m suggesting is the truth!
But not the whole truth.
I’m beginning to see that truth is the best form of lying.
“Are you really Lutt?” Phoenicia asked. “You’ve been so strange since your accident, And you’re taller.”
“I’m your son, Mother. The accident goosed my hormones.”
She shuddered. “At least tell me how you know these Dreens are a real threat.”
Lutt followed Ryll’s suggestion and, when he finished his recital, she nodded sagely. “Why did you keep it secret?”
“I thought there were advantages. I even discussed it with Father,” he lied.
“Strange. He never told me.”
“You know how secretive Father was. But just look at how much he increased our holdings in defense industries during these last months.”
“Of course! And it all fits into my plans. Our profits will be very big!”
“So let’s see the alien. I’ll tell you then how I’ll go along with your political ambitions for me.”
“Very well. I’ll call Gil Woon and we’ll—”
“No! Just the two of us, the guards and the alien. Not even Morey. I want to know how much the alien will help us.
***
Grand Old Party (GOP), formerly Republican party. A near-defunct political entity with one seat in the Senate and two in the House during the current session. The GOP has not offered a Presidential candidate in eighty years, has not elected a governor in fifty.
—Driesen’s Political Digest (Thirty-seventh Edition)
Nishi stood in the portico of her prison villa admiring the evening sunglow on the Mediterranean’s green waters. She heard Lorna at work upstairs and Lew in the kitchen helping the chef. He was good in that role, Nishi thought, but his basil-heavy dishes would have to be corrected. And he had no tolerance for liquor. She had seen him in a drunken stupor too often. Lorna seemed not to mind: a tolerant mother with a wayward child.
The abduction Nishi had found bizarre, almost amusing. During the flight over the Pole, she had told squad leader O’Hara she had gone voluntarily with Lutt and planned to marry him. This had surprised O’Hara and he’d complained about “a broken contract”—the Spiral communicator Lutt had promised to provide the Legion.
“I must get further instructions,” O’Hara had said.
A Legion guard, Nishi saw, was coming up the stone path from the jetty with a dumpy woman in a long black dress. A new servant? The Legion was most accommodating to her needs. But their questions about the Spiral communicator told Nishi she had a strong bargaining chip. Excellent! Nishi’s father had taught her to bargain from a position of power.
They need me. When Subiyama has told enough of our story we will call on the Hansons and get what the L
Nishi heaved a deep sigh. She felt oddly relieved to be at a distance from the Hanson family. I need time to examine my feelings. I miss Lutt but still . . .
The Legion guard and the woman made the final turn before climbing to the villa’s terrazzo porch. The woman looked up and Nishi recognized her.
Mrs. Ebey? Have the Hansons sent an emissary?
The guard was Captain O’Hara, a dashing fellow with wavy black hair and great self-esteem. He fancied himself irresistible, but Nishi had been forced to fend him off only once. O’Hara was Legion to the core. He stopped a pace away from the foot of the steps leading up to Nishi and restrained Mrs. Ebey.
“This one says she has valuable information she will reveal only to you, mademoiselle,” O’Hara said.
“It’s quite all right, Captain,” Nishi said. “Mrs. Ebey is known to me.”
“She has no weapons,” O’Hara said.
“What would I be doing with weapons?” Mrs. Ebey protested.
“You may leave us alone, Captain,” Nishi said.
O’Hara left them but only after favoring Nishi with a lingering look of admiration.
When he was gone, Nishi asked: “Well, what do the Hansons want of me?”
“To the devil with the Hansons and everything they desire!” Mrs. Ebey said.
“I don’t understand,” Nishi said. “When I last saw you, didn’t you say you were rich because of L.H.’s death?”
“Lies! All lies! Not a word of me in his will!”
“Then why are you here? What is the information fit only for my ears?”
“The Hansons fired me, but some of the guards and servants still talk to me, Miss Nishi. The Hansons have big plans. They’ll marry off Master Lutt to some brainless socialite and run him for President of the United States! That’s what I’ve learned!”
“In the name of all the saints, how could they expect to elect Lutt?”
“It’s true they’ll try, and they have a captive they say will make it sure for him.”
“A captive? What captive?”
“They say it’s one of the Legion who abducted you.”
“But the Legion lost no one. I’m told there was confusion, perhaps a few volunteer intruders on the mission, but all of the original cadre came out safely.”
“I don’t know about that, Miss Nishi.”
“Besides, they did not abduct me. They thought of it as a rescue. We’re discussing their mistake. But I’m sure they lost no one in the operation.”
“It’s only rumors about the captive but there’s no doubt they’ll run Master Lutt for President and the wedding is a certainty. Madame Phoenicia herself was heard to say it.”
“Why do you bring this information to me, Mrs. Ebey?”
“I was hoping you’d give me employment, Miss Nishi. I’ve used the last of my little savings to come here and I’m destitute.”
“How do I know you’re not a Hanson spy?” Nishi asked.
“Them! I spit on them! L.H. and his big promises!”
“I believe I’ll risk it,” Nishi said.
“It’s no risk, Miss Nishi. Just give the word and I’d kill any Hanson for you.”
Nishi shuddered at the venom in the old woman’s voice but showed none of this when responding.
“Go tell Captain O’Hara you’re to be put on the payroll as my personal maid. If he asks what information you brought, tell him. Say, if Lutt actually runs for political office, our damaging information is even more valuable.”
“I hope you ruin them all, miss. That I do.”
***
Your Portable Speech Analyzer analyzes crowd reactions and your speech content, telling you which points are most effective and providing on-the-spot warning if you begin to lose control of your audience. Most important, your PSA gives you an immediate corrective summary with which to hold your audience.
—Instruction manual, Political Equipment Company, PSA Model 80147
Lutt studied the caged captive. Definitely human in appearance, rugged features . . . a bit on the John Wayne side.
The cage sat under a bank of floodlights in the center of a large secret sub-basement of the Hanson compound’s main house. Rows of spy eyes looked down on it from ceiling and walls. Deadly weapons protruded from holes near the spy eyes. Weapons and spy devices, Phoenicia said, were constantly manned by Hanson Guards.
Lutt and his mother had come directly from the attorney’s offices. It was still early in the day.
Phoenicia stood to one side, most of her attention on Lutt and with only an occasional frightened glance at the creature in the cage.
The captive, Lutt noted, was studying him with undisguised intensity.
Definitely Dreen and he sees my Dreen aura, Ryll informed Lutt. He knows who I am.
I can’t see any aura.
Of course not You’re an Earther, not a Dreen.
Glancing at his mother, Lutt said, “Your captive doesn’t look alien. Won’t people say it’s a phony thing we’ve dreamed up to get votes?”
She shuddered. “Wait until it shows you its real shape.”
Lutt addressed the captive. “What’s your name?”
The captive frowned and spoke in a gruff voice. “Well, Ah tell y’, Pilgrim, y’ kin call me Deni-Ra. Ah’m still decidin’ what t’call yew.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ah reckon you’re a merged monster. Don’ know if’n Ah should call y’ Ryll or what?”
“What’s it talking about?” Phoenicia demanded.
“I’m trying to find out,” Lutt said.
Careful! Ryll warned. She’s very suspicious of you. We could wind up in a Zone Patrol prison.
I know! Be quiet unless you have something useful.
“My name’s Lutt Hanson, Jr.,” Lutt said. “You can call me Mr. Hanson.”
“Reckon that’s as good a handle as any. A monster’s a monster, no matter what y’ call it.”
“So you think humans are monsters?”
Deni-Ra glanced at Phoenicia, at the weapons protruding from walls and ceiling, then back at Lutt. “You’re a yellow monster, Mr. Hanson.”
“We’ll show you who the cowards are when it comes to a real fight,” Lutt said.
“Ain’ gonna be no fight. Jes’ gonna erase y’all. Same as if y ‘never was a’tall.”
“Why is it speaking with that odd accent?” Phoenicia asked.
“Ah tell y’, ma’am, we’uns figger y’ best learn what you’re up aginst. No sense beatin’ ‘roun’ the corral ‘bout it.”
“I’m told you’re willing to state publicly that you’re an alien sent here against Earth,” Lutt said.
“Yup.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Ah tell y’, Pilgrim, even a four-flushin’ scumguts deserves a warnin’ ‘fore y’ draw down on ’im.”
“Tell me, Deni-Ra, why would anyone believe you?” Lutt asked.
“Reckon y’ needs a little somethin’ t’ make the claim jumpers know this is it,” Deni-Ra said. “Naow, y’ jes’ watch close like.”
As Lutt stared into the cage, the figure of the captive melted into a mound of pulsing protoplasm and reshaped into a squat figure with four legs, a bulbous head with pendulous ear flaps and glaring pink eyes. The horn-tool extrusion on the face lifted to reveal a wide mouth.
A very poor job of idmaging but adequate, Ryll informed him. I could do it much better. By the blessed snout of Habiba! That’s a female Dreen!
Deni-Ra’s mouth opened and the familiar gruff voice emerged. “Naow y’ know, Pilgrim. Yew been dealin’ from th’ bottom o’ th’ deck. Time to pay up.”
Lutt continued to examine the odd figure. The Dreen looked much as Ryll had described himself and Lutt could not see anything to distinguish Deni-Ra’s sex. Because Phoenicia was present, Lutt decided to put Ryll’s inside information in the form of a question.
“Are you male or female?” Lutt as
“Don’ make no difference, Pilgrim. Yew are out-gunned.”
The heavy Western accent coming from the Dreen suddenly struck Lutt as ridiculous. He grinned.
“You don’t look very dangerous to me, Deni-Ra. I mean, there you are, a captive in our cage. Your threats are kind of laughable.”
“Yew’ll stop laughin’ when our top gun arrives.”
“Why should we believe you?”
“Zone Patrol kin tell y’ that, Pilgrim. They lost some o’ their top hands tryin’ t’ pry inta one o’ our ships.”
Ask her if they have made a new erasure ship, Ryll intruded.
“Have you made a new ship to attack us?” Lutt asked.
“Yup. Ol’ Habiba herse’f give th’ order.”
Phoenicia moved up beside Lutt. “Have you seen and heard enough, Lutt? Isn’t it an ugly thing?”
“Actually, it’s kind of ridiculous,” Lutt said. “Look at those stupid arms and those funny hands.”
“Yew better be keerful,” Deni-Ra said. “Ah’ll take jes’ so much o’ y’r pizen ‘fore Ah come out there an’ poun’ a little sense inta y’.”
Lutt began to chuckle. “Look at it, Mother! This thing will get laughs, nothing else!”
Don’t provoke her, Lutt, Ryll warned. This is an adult Dreen, very dangerous.
“Reckon Ah have to show y’,” Deni-Ra said mournfully.
Once more, she melted into a mound of protoplasm but when she reformed it was into a glistening green and black cobra. The head lifted and poised itself level with Lutt’s eyes. The snake mouth opened and again, the gruff voice emerged.
“Yew think this yere hoosegow’ll hold me if’n Ah wants out?”
Phoenicia back-stepped to the wall but Lutt held his ground.
“Lutt, be careful,” Phoenicia said.
“You’d be blasted to bits before you got two centimeters out of that cage,” he said.
“An’ Ah’d jes’ reform mahse’f,” the snake said. “Yew’d run outa ammo ‘fore Ah’d run outa bodies.”
“Then why are you still a captive?” Lutt demanded.