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also nonbiodegradable and nonrecyclable. So the rules had zero
impact on the environment and the landfills . . . And why are you
laughing, Tom?"
"What if it was on purpose?"
"What do you mean? "
Alex noticed that a small crowd had gathered around them,
listening intently to what Degler had to say. He saw Bob Needleton
and Barbara Dinsby and the huckster, Thurlow Helvetian; Gordon's
head topping them all. We really do stand out in a crowd. Gordon
had been letting his beard grow ever since St. Louis, but it was not
much to speak of yet. Sherrine had called it a beatnik beard,
whatever that meant.
Dealer glanced left and right, and leaned forward. Everyone
else instinctively leaned toward him. "I meant, what if it was on
purpose? There was a company in California that bought chemical
wastes from other companies; processed the waste and broke it
down; and sold the end products as feed stock. Closed loop
recycling. The state EPA shut them down."
"Why?" asked Alex.
Degler eyed him, and again glanced conspiratorially around the
room. "Because the EPA rules required that chemical wastes be put
in fifty-five-gallon drams and stored."
"Why, that is pomyéshanniy," Gordon said. "If we did so on
Freedom, would soon die. Cannot afford to waste waste. Is too
valuable."
If the Downer Greens were serious about recycling and waste
reduction, Alex mused, they should be clamoring to communicate
with the stations. Who- on Earth or off- knew more about the
subject than the Floaters. It isn't just our quality of life, it's our
lives.
"Exactly," said Degler. "So why do so many environmental
regulations wind up, harming the environment? I say, what if it's on
purpose?"
"Can't be," said someone in the crowd. "What purpose?"
"Yeah, who would gain?"
"The Babbage Society? "
"No, the Greens. The Greens would gain job security," said
someone else.
"Job security how? They're pledged to clean things up."
"No they aren't," said Tom Degler with a grin. "They're pledged
to advocate rules whose apparent purpose is to make someone
else clean things up."
"That's right. There's a difference. The rules only require
actions, not results."
"I have a question," said an elderly fan. "Why did the Greens
become so popular back in the '90s, which was after the worst
pollution had been already cleaned up? None of you kids remembers
the old days, when coal smoke blanketed every city and the
Cuyahoga River caught fire."
Alex had finally figured out why Degler grinned all the time. He
was watching funny pictures inside his head. "This is your hobby,
isn't it?"
Degler grinned at him. "What is?"
"Throwing out wild ideas and watching people play with them."
"No, this is my profession. Dropping seed crystals in a
supersaturated solution. Plumbing is my hobby."
Chairman Buck Coulson produced a giant cake covered with
chocolate frosting, baked in the shape of a manhole cover. He
presented it to Degler as Con Chair. Degler wiped a tear from his
eye. "I'm touched, folks. I am truly touched."
"Hell, Tom," said Bob. "We've known that for years."
"Okay!" said Buck rubbing his hands. "That's three uses." He
pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and made a note.
Alex looked around for help. He saw Sherrine nearby with a
glass of bhlog in her hand and beckoned to her. Sherrine giggled
and weaved her way to his side. "What did Buck mean, that's three
uses?" He had to lean close to make himself heard over the noise of
the room party. The jostling crowd pressed Sherrine against him
just as he bent close. He wasn't about to complain.
"Mmmm," said Sherrine, lingering against him for just a
moment, bracing herself with her arm around him. "Egscyooze- I
mean, excuse me. I'm sorry."
"I'm not."
"Have some bhlog?" She held her glass up to him.
"No, thanks. I had one. It ripped the top of my head off.
What's in that stuff?"
"Oh, I don't know. No one does. It's a closely guarded secret
known to no one." Sherrine giggled again.
"You're drunk."
She pressed a finer against her lip. "Shhhhh. Maybe no one will
notice." She drank the rest of her bhlog. Then she pointed at the
cake. "Chocolate-covered manhole covers are, is the only idea Tom
ever threw out that never went anywhere. What can you say about
chocolatecovered manhole covers?"
Alex smiled. "Not much."
"A cake for Tom, that's three. A source of food on an alien
planet, that was first."
"What was the second?"
Her diction became careful and solemn. "The American Dental
Association thinks they are bad for children's teeth."
It must have been almost one in the morning. There was only a
handful of fans still lolling about in the Video Room. Sherrine sat
tailor fashion near the door, talking tete-á-tete with Dinsby. The
others had wandered off. Some were dozing on the floor. Buck
grew sufficiently bored to turn on the TV. He sat splayed in the
sofa changing channels at random with his phaser. Tom Degler
snored beside him.
Slouched in the armchair with his head buzzing, Alex let his
mind drift with the TV. Buck would not stay on one channel long
enough for anything to make sense. If, after five glasses of bhlog,
anything could make sense.
"For relief of hemorrhoids," the TV declared, "use- deg.!deg.-
 the President of the United States- deg.!deg.- couldn't imagine
anything more exciting- deg.!deg.- building value in every step of
design and construction- deg.!deg.- don't miss all the action-
deg.!deg.- with Barbie- deg.!deg.- But what if lance discovers
us, darling- deg.!deg.- coming up next- deg.!deg.- Sherrine
Hartley- deg.!deg. - ll right, let's move em out- deg.!deg.-
for Captain Spaulding, the African explorer- "
"Wait!" said Alex suddenly alert. "Buck! Back up a couple
channels."
deg.!deg.deg.!deg. and a photograph of Bob and Sherrine
graced the screen. "- of those suspected of harboring the
fugitives. Hartley is a computer nerd. Her boyfriend, Needleton, is a
scientist. Needleton's van was used in the getaway. It was found in
Milwaukee- "
"See Spot," snarled Buck. "See Spot run. Run, Spot, run."
"Quiet!"
"- seeing them should contact the State Police. Captain Lee
Arteria of the U.S. Air Force Office of Special Investigations is
leading the pursuit. Outdoor shot of a hard-looking officer in
fatigues. "We're piecing the evidence together, Heather," Arteria
told the newser. "There are several promising lines of inquiry- "
Alex grabbed the phaser from Coulson's hands and stabbed at
the buttons until the screen went black.
Bob spoke without turning from the screen. "The backdrop. It
was the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago."
Coulson frowned. "Arteria looks familiar. I've seen him
somewhere before. At a con? Art show?" He shook his head. "A
long time ago." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]