Manalone by Colin Kapp Read Free Book Online Page A

enchanted scene – a window on to another world which had never heard of straightedge or design. The mornings, however, spoke of a different reality, and Manalone had no stomach to venture nearer than the strand of tidal sand which marked the raft’s perimeter. He watched Raper venture out across a crazily roped walkway, then himself turned again inland, heading for the bright lights and the centre of the town.
    ‘So what the hell’s happened, Manalone? Where went your nice quiet, ordered world of yesterday? It’s not really that history’s being re-drawn which is important. That’s only symptomatic – the part you can see. The real problem’s much deeper … and much bigger.
    ‘So what the hell could it be? It involves the manipulation of history, the suspension of human rights, and the creation of a secret police organization comparable with that needed to maintain a totalitarian State. Yet one thing is certain – this is no mere political manoeuvre. This is the Establishment up against a problem which has a basis in altered physical values, and seems to have reference to the present as contrasted with the past. So far all you’ve got are answers … to a problem so obscure that it doesn’t seem to exist.’

8
Manalone and the Site of Nothing
    The next daywas Saturday, and Manalone, rising late, had nothing particular to do. In his studyspace he tidied up his filing, dictated a few notes into the autotype, and then found himself free to consider his new range of problems. Sandra had gone off early announcing she was going to a festiv – whatever that might be. Manalone had no liking for her continual round of parties and happenings, but he recognized her need for the excitement she found in them. At the same time he wondered what strange twist of nature had produced this insatiable craving for titillation.
    ‘Keep moving, little lotus-eaters – because if ever the volume of music drops and the lights fail and the hypnotics and the alcohol don’t work and even the sensations bore you, you’re liable to wind up having to face the thing you’re most afraid of – having time to think. When God failed to respond reliably to on-line access, Mankind had to turn elsewhere to unload the burden of its own responsibility. It invented the computer – which is far more accessible than God and just as satisfying – providing you never give yourself time to think about it.’
    Realizing that he was becoming bitter, Manalone turned back to his deliberations. A call on the vidiphone stopped him before he really got started. The caller was Victor Blackman, whose mocking bull-moose face grinned derisively from the screen.
    ‘Hullo, Manny boy! You’ve been playing pretty hard to get. Not trying to keep out of my way are you?’
    ‘I don’t give a damn about your way, so why should I bother to keep out of it?’
    ‘Didn’t that delicious pet wife of yours give you my message? I’ve got another job for you.’
    ‘I’m not interested, Victor. I told you after the last job that I’m through preparing computer software for you. If you haven’t got the right equipment, you can’t get consistent results.’
    ‘Have I evercomplained, Manny boy? Have I ever? Tell you what I’ll do – I’ll double your last-time fee.’
    ‘You should get so lucky!’ said Manalone. ‘The programme’s three times the length for a start. Get lost, Victor! I don’t want to know any more about your fifth-rate operations. If you want a programme, go hire yourself a programmer from the labour pool.’
    Blackman’s mocking smile was completely undeterred. ‘Programmers I already have. What I need is production programme expertise – and that’s what you’ve got. I know you’re the best man in the country because my old Sigma Eleven is producing things now that even its manufacturers never claimed for it.’
    ‘Whatever the scrap-yard charged you for your Sigma Eleven, you were cheated. They should have paid you to take it away.