Counterfeit World by Daniel F. Galouye Read Free Book Online

in my chair and pulled open the top desk drawer. The copy of the Evening Press that I had set aside was still there. I turned anxiously to the amusement page and read the final item in Stan Walters’ column.
    It was a barbed, sarcastic appraisal of the Community Theater’s latest production.
    Not a word about Morton Lynch and Siskin’s penthouse party.
    The intercom buzzed itself hoarse before I finally pressed the lever without even glancing at the screen. “Yes, Miss Ford?”
    “Mr. Siskin is here to see you.”
    Again, he was not alone. This time he brought in an impeccably dressed man whose very proportions made Dorothy’s “dapper little doll” seem even more minuscule by comparison.
    “Doug,” Siskin said excitedly, “I want you to meet someone who isn’t here! Understand? He has never been here. After we leave, it’s as though he didn’t exist, as far as you’re concerned.”
    I lunged up, almost knocking my chair over in recognition of the parallel between what he was proposing and what had happened to Lynch.
    “Douglas Hall, Wayne Hartson,” he offered, climaxing his build-up.
    I extended an unsteady hand and it was immediately locked in a fierce grip.
    “I’ll be working with Hall?” Hartson asked.
    “Only if we get everything ironed out. Only if Doug understands that what we’re doing is best.”
    Hartson frowned. “I thought you had everything cleared away within your own organization.”
    “Oh, I do! ” Siskin assured him.
    Then I made the connection. Wayne Hartson, one of the strongest political figures in the country.
    “Without Hartson,” Siskin went on almost in a whisper, “the administration couldn’t operate. Of course, his connections are all under the surface, since he appears only to be handling liaison work between the party and the government.”
    Dorothy signaled and her image came through on the intercom. “Certified Reaction Monitor Number 3471-C on the videophone for Mr. Hall.”
    Anger flared in Siskin’s eyes as he thrust himself in front of the box. “Tell—”
    But the girl’s face had already been replaced by that of the pollster. “I’m conducting a survey on male preferences in Christmas gifts,” he disclosed.
    “Then,” Siskin growled, “this isn’t a priority sampling?”
    “No, sir. But—”
    “Mr. Hall declines to answer. Just pick up the tape on this call and go file for the penalty.”
    Siskin switched off and the screen went dead on the man’s gathering smile. Reaction monitors didn’t at all mind claiming their share of the refusal fine.
    “About Mr. Hartson,” Siskin resumed, “I was pointing out that the administration couldn’t get along without him.”
    “I’ve heard of Mr. Hartson,” I said, bracing myself for what I knew was coming.
    Hartson pulled up a chair, crossed his legs, and donned a patient expression.
    Siskin paced, glancing occasionally at me. “We’ve gone over this before, Doug, and I know you don’t quite see it my way. But good God, boy, Reactions can become the biggest thing in the country! Then, after we’ve recovered our investment, I’ll build you another simulator that you can use only for your research.
    “It’s coming, Doug—the one-party system. We can’t hold it off. And I’m not too sure it isn’t right for the country. But the point is—Reactions can get in on the bottom in the transition!”
    Hartson spoke up. “We can pull it off in the next two or three years by squeezing the other party completely out and siphoning off its top talent—if we play our cards right,” he said frankly.
    Siskin leaned over the desk. “And do you know what’s going to tell them which cards to play—in every national and local election and on every issue? The simulator I built for you! ”
    I felt a little sickened over his candid enthusiasm. “What’s in it for you?”
    “What’s in it for us?” He resumed his vigorous pacing, his eyes wide and restless. “I’ll tell you, son. We can look forward