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way?
"Lovely sunny day," Selador said. "Why don't I wheel you out on this deck for
a bit of air. Do you good."
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Panic seized Dasein's throat. That deck -- it was a place of menace. He
tried to speak, to object. They couldn't go out there. No words came.
Selador took the silence for agreement, wheeled Dasein's chair out the door.
There was a slight jolt at the sill and they were on the deck.
Sunlight warmed Dasein's head. A breeze almost devoid of Jaspers washed his
skin, cleared his head. He said: "Don't you . . . "
"Doesn't this air feel invigorating?" Selador asked. He stopped at a shallow
parapet, the edge of the roof. "There. You can admire the view and I can sit
on this ledge."
Selador sat down, put a hand on the back of Dasein's chair. "I would imagine
that ward is wired for sound," Selador said. "I do not believe they can have
listening devices out here, however."
Dasein gripped the wheels of his chair, afraid it might lurch forward, propel
him off the roof. He stared down at a paved parking area, parked cars, lawn,
strips of flowers, trees. The sense of Selador's words came to him slowly.
"Wired . . . for . . ." He turned, met amused inquiry in the dark eyes.
"Obviously, you're not quite yourself yet," Selador said. "Understandable.
You've been through a terrible ordeal. That's obvious. I'll have you out of
this place, though, as soon as you're able to travel. Set your mind at rest.
You'll be safe in a normal hospital at Berkeley before the week's out."
Dasein's emotions boiled, an arena of dispute. Safe! What a reassuring word.
Leave? He couldn't leave! But he had to leave. Outside? Go to that hideous
place?
"Have you been drugged, Gilbert?" Selador asked. "You appear . . . so . . .
so . . ."
"I've . . . I'm all right."
"Really, you're behaving rather oddly. You haven't asked me once what we
found on the leads you provided."
"What . . ."
"The source of their petrol proved to be a dud. All quite normal . . .
provided you appreciate their economic motives. Cash deal with an independent
producer. The State Department of Agriculture gives their cheese and the
other products of their Cooperative a clean bill of health. The real estate
board, however, is interested that no one but Santarogans can buy property in
the valley. It may be they've violated antidiscriminatory legislation with .
. ."
"No," Dasein said. "They . . . nothing that obvious."
"Ah, ha! You speak in the fashion of a man who has discovered the closeted
skeleton. Well, Gilbert, what is it?"
Dasein felt he'd been seized by a vampire of duty. It would drain the blood
from him. Selador would feed on it. He shook his head from side to side.
"Are you ill, Gilbert? Am I wearying you?"
"No. As long as I take it slowly . . . Doctor, you must understand, I've . .
."
"Do you have notes, Gilbert? Perhaps I could read your report and . . . "
"No . . . fire."
"Oh, yes. The doctor, this Piaget, said something about your truck burning.
Everything up in smoke, I suppose?"
"Yes."
"Well, then, Gilbert, we'll have to get it from your lips. Is there an
opening we can use to break these people?"
Dasein thought of the greenhouses -- child labor. He thought of the
statistical few Santarogans Jaspers had destroyed. He thought of the narcotic
implications in the Jaspers products. It was all there -- destruction for
Santaroga.
"There must be something," Selador said. "You've lasted much longer than the
others. Apparently, you've been given the freedom of the region. I'm sure
you must have discovered something."
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Lasted much longer than the others, Dasein thought. There was naked
revelation in the phrase. As though he had participated in them, Dasein saw
the discussions which had gone into choosing him for this project. "Dasein
has connections in the valley -- a girl. That may be the edge we need.
Certainly, it gives us reason to hope he'll last longer than the others."
It had been something like that, Dasein knew. There was a callousness in it
that repelled him.
"Were there more than two?" he asked.
"Two? Two what, Gilbert?"
"Two other investigators . . . before me?"
"I don't see where that . . ."
"Were there?"
"Well . . . that's very discerning of you, Gilbert. Yes, there were more than
two. Eight or nine, I suspect."
"Why . . ."
"Why weren't you told? We wanted to imbue you with caution, but we saw no
need to terrify you."
"But you thought they were murdered here . . . by Santarogans?"
"It was all exceedingly mysterious, Gilbert. We were not at all sure." He
studied Dasein, eyes open wide and probing. "That's it, eh? Murder. Are we
in peril right now? Do you have the weapon I . . ."
"If it were only that simple," Dasein said.
"In heaven's name, Gilbert, what is it? You must have found something. I had
such high hopes for you."
High hopes for me, Dasein thought. Again, it was a phrase that opened a door
on secret conversations. How could Selador be that transparent? Dasein found
himself shocked by the shallowness of the man. Where was the omnipotent
psychoanalyst? How could he have changed so profoundly?
"You . . . you people were just using me," Dasein said. As he spoke, he
recalled Al Marden's accusation. Marden had seen this . . . yes.
"Now, Gilbert, that's no attitude to take. Why, just before I left to come
here, Meyer Davidson was inquiring after you. You recall Davidson, the agent
for the investment corporation behind the chain stores? He was very much
taken with you, Gilbert. He told me he was thinking of making a place for you
on his staff."
Dasein stared at Selador. The man couldn't be serious.
"That would be quite a step up in the world for you, Gilbert."
Dasein suppressed an urge to laugh. He had the odd sensation of being
detached from his past and able to study a pseudoperson, a might-have-been
creature who was himself. The other Dasein would have leaped at this offer.
The new Dasein saw through the offer to the true opinion Selador and his
cronies held for "that useful, but not very bright person, Gilbert Dasein."
"Have you had a look at Santaroga?" Dasein asked. He wondered if Selador had
seen Clara Scheler's used car lot or the advertisements in the store windows.
"This morning, while I was waiting for visiting hours with you, I drove around
a bit," Selador said.
"What did you think of the place?"
"My candid opinion? An odd sort of village. When I inquired directions of a
native -- their language is so brusque and . . . odd. Not at all like . . .
well, it's not English, of course, full of Americanisms, but . . ."
"They have a language like their cheese," Dasein said. "Sharp and full of
tang."
"Sharp! A very good choice of word."
"A community of individuals, wouldn't you say?" Dasein asked.
"Perhaps . . . but with a certain sameness to them. Tell me, Gilbert, does
this have something to do with why you were sent here?"
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"This?"
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