Текст книги "The Thinking Machine Affair"

Автор книги: Joel Bernard

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On the third floor of the whitestone is a sedate suite of offices, the entrance to which bears the engraved letters U.N.C.L.E. And in this suite of offices a rather ordinary group of people handle mail, meet, and do business with visitors, in general giving the appearance of some normal organization engaged in a special charity project, or perhaps a Fund Foundation Headquarters.

If one were to investigate (but thoroughly), he might learn that all these buildings are owned by U.N.C.L.E. It is doubtful that he would ever discover that all the personnel involved in the activities of the garage and the key-club are also in the employ of U.N.C.L.E., that many of "The Mask Club" are affiliated with U.N.C.L.E. that even the frowsy tenants of the brownstone, including old Del Floria, the tailor, are actually members of the organization.

If it were possible to peel away the outer, decaying, brownstone skin of the four old buildings in the middle of the sandwich (as it were), a surprising edifice would be revealed. For behind the walls is one large building consisting of three floors of a modern, complex office building—a steel maze of corridors and suites containing brisk, alert young personnel of many races, creeds, colors and national origins—as well as a complex mass of modern machinery for business and communications. There are no staircases in the building. Four elevators handle vertical traffic. Below the basement level an underground channel has been cut through from the East River, and several cruisers (the largest being a sixty-footer) are bobbing at the underground wharf beneath the brownstone complex. If one could ascend to the roof and examine the large neon-lighted advertising billboard rearing up there, a trained eye might ascertain that its supporting pillars conceal a high powered shortwave antenna, as well as elaborate electronic receiving and transmitting gear.

This is the heart, brain and body of the organization named U.N.C.L.E. The personnel of the organization is peculiarly multi-national, its line of work so tending to cross national boundaries, and with such nonchalance, that a daily shortwave message from the remote Himalayas fails to flutter any eyebrows, even though there is no recorded wireless in this Himalayan area according to the printed international codebooks.

On making one's way through the building, one would find it highly discomforting to stray from within certain prescribed boundaries, which are measured by the color of the badge the "Admissions" clerk has pinned upon one's lapel. A chemical on the tips of the receptionist's fingers would have set up a reaction on each badge as she pinned it in place. Any persons passing through certain areas of the building will trip up an alarm unless they are wearing a badge which has been properly activated. On every desk in the building a small red light would begin to flash and a signal is heard beating in a repeating tempo of alarm. Steel doors would then start to slide shut all over the building, forming cabinet-like pockets in which to trap any unwanted intruders.

The Red Badges will admit you to the ground floor which contains personnel and equipment for day in, day out routine operations. Should a Red Badge manage to rise above this floor, the entire unpleasant sequence of events described earlier would occur.

The Yellow Badge will carry one anywhere on the ground and second floors. The second floor contains communications equipment of all sorts as well as various electronic code devices and, in general, any machine equipment necessary for the organization. By now you understand what occurs should a Yellow Badge venture onto the floor above.

The third floor is White Badge territory, with the Policy and Operations offices, the interrogation rooms, the armory, and the various cubicles occupied by the elite of this organization, the Enforcement Agents, during their infrequent visits to this, their home base.

If such a thing as an Organization Chart of U.N.C.L.E. were to exist, it might be found to break down the personnel into five Sections—each Section subdivided into two Departments, with one Department overlapping the Department below it. Thus:

SECTION I: Policy and Operations

SECTION II: Operations and Enforcement

SECTION III: Enforcement and Communications

SECTION IV: Communications and Security

SECTION V: Security and Personnel

There are four entrances to the Headquarters Area. The basic personnel enter through the public garage they drive their cars into the garage, along with the general public, and park them. At this point the paths of these (for the most part, attractive) men and women diverge from that of the "ordinary" patrons. The men make their way into the "Men's Locker" room, the women into the "Women's Locker" room. Behind a wall there is an elevator which descends to a subterranean passage leading to the brownstone area. Here an "Admissions" clerk sits at a desk scanning her closed circuit television receivers, which beam in the findings of hidden cameras in each locker room. "Admissions" will fix the Red or the Yellow Badges and the Admittee moves on to his (or her) respective work area.

The Enforcement Agents will enter through the second entrance, which is located in Del Floria's tailoring shop. Each Enforcement Agent will enter the shop and usually hand Del Floria his jacket for pressing. The tailor will then push a small button on the side of his pressing machine. This releases the "lock", and the Agent will enter the third "try-on" cubicle and draw the curtain. He will turn the hook on the wall (really nothing but a door knob), swing open the back wall and walk through to the "Admissions" desk. "Admissions" would by now have seen his entrance on her closed circuit television viewer. She will fix the White Badge and the Agent is then free to move to an elevator and rise to his floor.

The third entrance is to be found in the general offices above the restaurant in the whitestone building. Here is where the non-U.N.C.L.E. members may be brought in the brownstone area. At the rear of the suite of offices is an elevator. If you are permitted to, you may enter the elevator, which will take you back down to the first floor. A door at the rear of this elevator will open there, admitting you directly into the brownstone building. "Admissions" would, of course, have been watching you in her closed circuit television viewer as the elevator was traveling down and she will fix the proper colored badge to your visitor's lapel.

There is a fourth entrance through the underwater channel in the basement of the building. Of course this entrance can only be used either by boat or a scuba suit—both methods inadvisable unless you are expected. "Admissions" waits for you here, too, with her badges. This entrance (and exit) is generally only used for extremely top-secret movement of the personnel.

The top man at the U.N.C.L.E. organization is Mr. Alexander Waverly of SECTION I. The Policy Department of this section consists of five men of various nationalities, Mr. Waverly being one of them. His office is on the third floor of the brownstone enclave. The only window in this entire fortress is in this office. It lends itself to a panoramic view of the East River with the United Nations Building centered in the middle of the frame...

At this point the Ultimate Computer stopped pouring out the information, and its signals indicated that the "machine with a brain" was ready to be fed with additional questions.

"Having now all the necessary details on U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters," said the Chief of the Special Tasks Department with satisfaction, "we need to know ways and means to penetrate the fortress, where exactly the live nerves of U.N.C.L.E.'S electronic communications systems are situated, and how and where U.N.C.L.E.'S closed circuit and other alarm systems can be put out of action."

His companions agreed, and these new questions were fed into the Computer, which in due course gave out the required information.

"That's it, then!" the Chief Organizing Officer exclaimed. "We can proceed with immediate preparation of 'Operation U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters'." He turned to the Head of the Technical Department and enquired:

"How long will it take you to have sufficient electronic beam receivers ready?"

"Give me twenty-four hours and we'll have more than we need."

"And how much time will you need for training a man to fix your gadgets to an electronic communications circuit?"

"Inside an hour."

"Well, under the circumstances pick your best man and explain the task to him."

In this manner, the scene was set at last for "Operation U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters".

CHAPTER THREE

THE VISITOR WITHOUT A CALLING CARD

ALEXANDER WAVERLY, a lean, dry, somewhat pedantic man in his early fifties, was sitting in his third floor office at U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters, studying a lengthy report from one of his Enforcement Agents in South America. As he sat there, engrossed in the report, he looked like a professor who might specialize in Renaissance history.

He glanced up from the dossier, selected a bulky briar pipe from a rack on his desk and with his fore finger began to fill tobacco into it from a round container. Pressing the tobacco down into the bowl of his pipe with his thumb, he rose and crossed to the window. He stared out at the panoramic view of New York's East River where, from the middle of the tangle of roofs and walls, the United Nations building soared upwards like a huge glass replica of an oblong box.

Waverly was about to put his hand in his coat pocket to fish out a matchbox to light his pipe, when the alarm system went into action, announcing that an intruder had somehow slipped through the safety barriers into U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters. He returned to his chair, placed the unlit pipe on his desk, and switched on the closed circuit communications system to find out what was happening.

"Has the intruder been located?" he enquired calmly.

"Not yet, sir," the information clerk replied. "But he will be, any minute now. Our control room confirms that he was detected by our security devices as he approached the area near the booster-boxes of the electronic communications system and that the protective steel doors slid shut immediately and trapped him in one of the sections."

"Let me know as soon as he's located, will you?" Waverly requested. "I want all details as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir," the clerk replied.

Waverly connected with the office of U.N.C.L.E.'S Chief Enforcement Agent, Napoleon Solo. "Mr. Solo, I'd like to see you in my office," he said when Solo appeared on the screen.

"I'll be over right away, sir," Solo answered.

Waverly leaned back in his chair, wondering how the intruder had managed to bypass alarm and security devices and penetrate almost to the heart of the electronic communications system. This was a serious matter, and indicated that there was room for improvement in U.N.C.L.E.'s safety system.

Napoleon Solo knocked before entering Waverly's office.

"Mr. Solo, I want you to be present at the examination of the intruder as soon as he is located," Waverly said. "I want to know everything about the man and his motives…"

He was interrupted by someone at the door. An attractive brunette entered, and as she handed Waverly a buff foolscap folder, Solo gazed approvingly at her shapely outline. The girl wore a short navy blue skirt and dark nylons, and her silk blouse was creased in the right places. Solo smiled and unconsciously raised his hand to smooth his dark hair as her blue eyes caught his.

Another interruption followed. It was the information clerk, to inform Waverly over the closed circuit communications system that the intruder had been located.

"Bring him to the interrogation room," ordered Waverly.

"Very well, sir," the clerk said, and switched off.

Napoleon Solo headed for the interrogation room. Waverly remained seated, to open the buff foolscap folder the brunette had brought in a little earlier.

Not long afterwards, Solo reappeared in Waverly's office. The frown on his face betrayed that the result of his talk with the intruder had been far from satisfactory.

"Well?" asked Waverly.

"I'm afraid, sir, the intruder collapsed and died before I had the chance to learn anything from him," Solo reported.

Waverly picked up the briar pipe from his desk and held it in his right hand, as if considering whether to light it or not.

"I searched him and found several of these tiny gadgets in his hollowed-out heels," Solo continued. He placed a small metallic object on the desk. "I have sent a sample to the Technical Investigation Department for analysis. The body is also being examined to establish the cause of death and to see whether anything can be found that might provide a clue of any kind."

Waverly picked up the gadget and examined it. "It looks like some electronic bugging device or something of the sort; but we should have the answer soon," he said confidently.

The U.N.C.L.E. medical section went to work to establish what fast-acting poison had killed the intruder, a muscular six-foot man in his early thirties, whose body had already confirmed that he had been in excellent health until the moment of his death. Assisted by highly-skilled biochemists, the medical team examined blood and saliva samples.

"The man isn't dead," Dr. Griffith Evans, the chief biochemist, eventually pronounced. "It's an identical case to the one we had some time ago."

Dr. Frank Morris, who headed U.N.C.L.E.'S medical team, understood what the biochemist meant. He well remembered the incident some time back when another man had collapsed and died in the interrogation room. The result of the blood and saliva examination were identical with those taken now. Before the corpse could be buried it was claimed by "relatives" and transported to THRUSH Headquarters, where Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin later discovered that the "dead" man had been brought back to life and his full health restored by an antidote then unknown to the U.N.C.L.E. experts. But now U.N.C.L.E. had in fact obtained this antidote that it was possible to restore the life of the intruder.

Dr. Morris gave Waverly his findings.

"How long do you think it will take until the man is back to normal?" Waverly asked.

"I've no knowledge of how fast the antidote works," the doctor replied, "but taking into consideration the unique physique of the man, and also the fact that the poison could not yet have taken a very firm grip on the blood and vital organs, I should think he might be revived within a few hours."

"Go ahead then, and let me know when he's ready for questioning, will you?" Waverly terminated the conference with these words. Then, looking at his Chief Enforcement Agent, he added: "From the start, the whole business smelled of THRUSH. No one else could have bypassed our outside detection devices. Now we'll discover what they're up to and hit back at them—and mighty hard, Mr. Solo."

"Isn't there a danger, sir, that by reviving and interrogating the THRUSH Agent we might alert THRUSH and do more harm than good?" Solo observed. "Wouldn't it be better to let them think we don't know anything and let them have their corpse when some fictitious relative comes to claim him?"

"Mr. Solo, you seem to have acquired the art of thought reading," Waverly said dryly. "I was just going to propose the same thing. As and when the 'dead' man starts to regain consciousness we'll put him into deep hypnosis so that he is unaware of having been interrogated etcetera..."

There was a knock, and Fred Harris, U.N.C.L.E.'s technical expert, entered. Somewhat long-windedly, he reported:

"The gadgets are specially constructed electronic beam receivers, sir, capable of receiving ultra-short wave beams from a distant transmitter. They are very similar to electronic beam receivers which were discovered some months ago at THRUSH Eastern, only these are much smaller, and, I dare say, more effective."

"Interesting," Waverly commented.

Harris went on to explain: "I am sure that the purpose of these electronic gadgets was to use U.N.L.C.E.'S complete internal, and possibly also external, communications systems for receiving electronic beams transmitted from a distance. All the intruder needed to do was to fix these gadgets, which are provided with magnetic claws so that they stick firmly, to cables, boosters, etc., and our internal and external communications systems would have then been perfect receivers for any communication that some distant THRUSH Center…"

"I am aware of it," Waverly interrupted Harris impatiently. "I am familiar with all brainwashing methods—electronic and otherwise—so you needn't elaborate. But what I want to know is whether or not the intruder succeeded in fixing his gadgets anywhere on or near the communications systems."

"We have recovered one on the intercom cable, and there's no doubt that it was this electronic beam receiver that set the alarm system in motion," Harris told him. "My theory is supported by the fact that additional gadgets were found on the intruder. It is obvious he was trapped before he had the chance to complete his job."

"It's dangerous to rely on theories," Waverly grumbled.

"I know, sir," Harris concurred. "Every single inch of the internal and external communications systems is being examined and so are the surrounding areas and electric supply links. We are not relying on theory alone but are taking every precaution. Still, I believe the search will prove my theory and establish..."

"Thank you, Mr. Harris, that will be all for now," Waverly again interrupted. He was very impatient. As the man, visibly nettled, turned to leave, Waverly recalled him to say: "There's another thing, though, that puzzles me."

"Yes, sir?" Harris enquired.

"How was it possible for the intruder to evade the closed circuit television eyes and other alarm devices and penetrate so deep into our headquarters?"

"Well, sir," the expert returned, "these little electronic beam receivers can also be used for the interruption of closed circuit television and other alarm and safety devices. This incident has now established that a super-safety circuit, as we call it, must be provided—the same type of safety circuit that set off the alarm system when the beam receiver was fixed..."

"Thank you, Mr.—ehm—Harris," Waverly said. "I take it you'll put the necessary work in hand without delay?"

"It is already in hand, sir. It is being carried out as top priority."

The door closed behind the man as he departed.

Waverly took the buff foolscap folder from his desk and said:

"I wonder if this is in any way connected with our THRUSH intruder?"

Napoleon Solo looked at his superior with blank eyes, although it was obvious that Waverly wanted him to enquire what he meant.

"I'm referring to a report from Prague which came in only a short while ago," Waverly continued.

"Yes?" the agent prompted.

"It's a report on the sudden and mysterious disappearance of a young Czech scientist a woman named Vlasta Novak—who has been engaged in some secret Government research."

Solo almost blurted out, "The daughter of Professor Karel Novak who's working on some top-secret project," but stopped himself, unwilling to interrupt his superior.

"This young woman is the only daughter of one of the best scientists the Czechs have, a man called, ehm, Professor Karel Novak, who's engaged in some hush-hush research in his villa in a Prague suburb." Waverly told Solo what the U.N.C.L.E. Chief Enforcement Agent had already discovered. "She left the Research Institute where she worked to return home, but she never arrived there. Czech State Security at once started a nationwide hunt for her, but she seems to have disappeared without trace."

"Perhaps she managed to slip across the frontier before her disappearance was discovered," Napoleon said. "She wouldn't be the first scientist to slide under the Iron Curtain."

"Nonsense!" Waverly said rather rudely. "This young woman is so devoted to her father that she wouldn't think of leaving him. No, Mr. Solo, the mysterious disappearance of this person reeks of THRUSH. The alarm on her disappearance was given half-an-hour after she left the Research Institute, and half-an-hour is too short a time for anyone to get from Prague over the frontier. Taking into consideration the effectiveness of Czech State Security, which covers the whole country, and also the fact that the young woman seems to have disappeared from the face of the earth, I would say that she's held at THRUSH European Center, and I'd also say that the Center ought to be somewhere near Prague."

Waverly paused for a moment and Solo added:

"And, I think, you'd also bet that our intruder, when eventually handed over to his 'relatives', will lead us to this particular center."

"Well done, Mr. Solo," his superior said. "There's only one slight miscalculation in your conclusion. Instead of 'will lead us' you should have said 'will lead Mr. Kuryakin', because he will be following the corpse, and you will fly to Prague to keep an eye on the Professor and be around if THRUSH should try and get him."

"When do I leave, sir?" asked Solo promptly.

"Now."

"Shouldn't I wait for the outcome of the interrogation of the intruder?" It was going to be a pity to miss his pretty date for the evening, Solo thought wistfully.

"Mr. Solo, we are quite capable of doing the job professionally, even without your valuable assistance." Waverly grunted aggressively. "If there's anything special you ought to know, I'll contact you."

Accustomed to his plans being changed for him so often, Napoleon turned to leave the office.

"Good luck, Mir. Solo," Waverly said benevolently. Alone again, Waverly crossed to the window and looked down on the East River. He stood there, thinking.

The sudden buzzing sound of the closed circuit communications system broke into his meditation and brought him back into stone-cold reality. It was Dr. Morris, telling him that the THRUSH agent was regaining consciousness.

"I want him brought to the interrogation room and I want you to come too, in case additional medical assistance is required," Waverly ordered. He then summoned Clive Hughes, U.N.C.L.E.'S hypnotist and Chief Interrogator.

Minutes later, Alexander Waverly, Dr. Morris and Clive Hughes stood in the interrogation room looking at the man on the stretcher. To the untrained eye he still appeared lifeless, but the doctor explained: "He's not yet able to hear, understand, see, or sense, but he will be regaining consciousness quite rapidly."

"I want him to be in a state of hypnosis so that he doesn't know he has been brought back to life, nor anything else that will be happening," Waverly told Hughes. "Is that understood?"

"Perfectly," the other acknowledged. "When the interrogation is terminated he'll believe he is just being revived."

"No. I suppose I haven't made quite clear what I want you to do," Waverly countered. "I want you to put him in a state of hypnosis so that he does not know, and will never remember, that he was brought back to life by us. When the interrogation is terminated I want him to be given another dose of the THRUSH poison to create the impression that we have never revived him."

"I understand now," Hughes said.

"Can it be done successfully?"

"Certainly."

"I'm afraid, Mr. Waverly, we might fail," Dr. Morris said dubiously.

"You have got the THRUSH poison which he took when he was trapped?" Waverly enquired.

"Yes..."

"Well, what are you worried about then?"

"I'm worried that the double administration of the poison might really kill him. He has an extremely strong constitution but..."

"We'll have to take the risk," Waverly cut in impatiently.

As the two men were talking, Clive Hughes was already hypnotizing the motionless prisoner. At first he was unsuccessful, but as life began gradually to flow back into the body, the hypnotist's efforts met with more success. After some tests he confirmed that the man was in the required state of deep hypnosis, ready to be interrogated.

"I want you to make him believe that he's talking with the Chief Organizing Officer at his THRUSH Center," Waverly instructed.

The hypnotist complied with the order; the consequence was that, asked for an account of his mission, the man on the stretcher unhesitatingly submitted his report:

"I did not encounter any obstacles and landed at New York without attracting attention. As per my instructions I proceeded to U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters and established that the Ultimate Computer's information was accurate.

"It was correct that the electronic beam receivers, which I affixed around myself in the manner suggested by the Ultimate Computer, rendered useless closed circuit television eyes and all the additional alarm systems. Admissions never spotted me and I had no difficulty in slipping into the building through the underground entrance.

"I also succeeded without difficulty in affixing eight electronic beam receivers on all the points suggested by the Ultimate Computer. I can consequently confirm that the entire internal communications system at U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters is now equipped with the electronic beam receivers and ready for receiving any communication sent from European Center B.

"I must report failure as far as U.N.C.L.E.'S external communications system is concerned. The reason for the failure is my own carelessness and I am ready to accept appropriate punishment.

"When I affixed the last electronic beam receiver on the intercom cable at point G and prepared to fix the remaining eight beam receivers on the external communications system, I overlooked the fact that I must not pass any of the points at which I'd affixed the beam receivers because, as the Head of the Technical Department had warned me, the beam receivers on my body would create an ultra-force and set off the alarms. This is what happened. As I passed point H where I had placed the beam receiver, the alarm went and I was trapped in a steel door pocket which seemed to come from nowhere. I took the living death drug phial and a few minutes later my mind went blank.

"That is all I can report on my partly-successful 'Operation U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters'. But before I took the phial and lost consciousness, I hid the unused electronic beam receivers in the hollowed-out heels of my shoes. I believe the U.N.C.L.E. investigators did not find the beam receivers in my shoe heels when they searched my body.

"That's my report, sir, and I am ready to submit to any punishment the Disciplinary Committee may impose upon me for having only partly carried out my task."

Clive Hughes continued to pretend he was the THRUSH European Center's Chief Organizing Officer. "I want you to describe the exact locations where you affixed the electronic beam receivers so that I can check the chart and ascertain whether 'Operation U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters' was indeed carried out to our full satisfaction," he said.

The hypnotized man described the location of the various gadgets he had planted, and this information was passed on to the technical team so that they could check whether any of the dangerous receivers had been missed. It was soon confirmed that all the gadgets had been discovered and removed by the search team even before their exact locations had been disclosed.

In the role of THRUSH'S Chief Organizing Officer, Hughes asked: "Are you satisfied that the U.N.C.L.E.'S internal communications system is now ready to receive and pass on effectively any transmission from European Center E that is beamed to the receivers you affixed?"

"Yes, sir, definitely."

"You are very confident, but have you taken into consideration the sort of transmissions U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters are to receive?" Hughes wanted to extract as much information from the hypnotized man as possible.

"Well, sir, I don't know much about it. I only know what the Head of the Technical Department told me, which is that the Professor's apparatus is to be linked with an electronic transmitter beamed at the electronic beam receivers at U.N.C.L.E.'S internal and external communications systems. I'm afraid that's all the Head of the Technical Department told me, sir."

"You seem to have forgotten the Professor's name," suggested Hughes.

"Oh no, sir. It's Professor Novak."

The interrogation continued, but it was soon clear that the man had been drained dry of all he knew.

After Clive Hughes had conditioned the man's mind to permanently forget his awakening moments and only remember the happenings that had occurred before he took the phial and lost consciousness, he ordered him to fall into a deep sleep.

"I want you to fix one of our miniature electronic direction finders somewhere on the man's body, where it cannot be discovered even if their greatest expert goes over him," Waverly told Dr. Morris.

The doctor examined the man's mouth. "We're in luck," be said. "He has a large filling in his lower right molar. We could take it out, insert the direction finder and re-fill the cavity," he suggested.

"Make sure the filling doesn't look new," warned Waverly. "I wouldn't want them to spot the direction finder by noticing a brand-new filling."

Dr. Morris looked at Waverly as if to say, "I don't need that kind of reminder," but only said: "It'll be carried out expertly. Don't worry."

"You spoke earlier of the possibility that a new dose of the poison might kill the man," Waverly said.

"Yes."

"If this happens, would a pathologist who has full knowledge of the poison be able to discover that the man had been given the poison again?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't answer that one. I haven't sufficient knowledge on how the poison works, nor how it affects the human body."

"Never mind," Waverly sighed. "As I said before, we have to take the risk of the man actually dying. I want the body to be ready for collection by the funeral directors in about an hour's time."

"Right," Dr. Morris acknowledged.

Waverly returned to his office to summon Illya Kuryakin and brief him on his new assignment. "I'll make the necessary arrangements for the City Funeral Directors to collect the body and I want you to take charge of the affair from then onwards," he said.