Bob Shaw - Who Goes Here?

You feel better now, dont you? The pretty technician-nurse smiled at Peace as she leaned across and removed the terminals from his forehead. She had coppery hair and her fingernails were manicured to the perfection of rose petals. Tell me how you feel.

Im fine, Peace said unthinkingly, then realized it was true. He was aware of tensions fleeing from his body, being driven out by the warm sense of ease which was spreading downwards from his brain. Relaxing into the skilfully contoured chair, he looked around the gleaming surgery with benign approval. I feel great.

Im so glad. The girl placed the medallion-like terminals and associated leads on top of a squat machine and pushed it away on noiseless casters. You know, I get a lot of personal satisfaction through helping people like you.

Im sure you do.

Its a kind of She smiled again, shyly. I guess the word is fulfilment.

Ill bet it is. Peace gazed happily at her for a moment, then a stray thought obtruded. By the way, he said, what exactly have you done for me?

Well, damn you! she snapped, her face growing pale with anger. Thirty seconds you waited before you started asking your bloody stupid questions. Thirty seconds! How much personal satisfaction and fulfilment is a girl expected to cram into thirty seconds?

I Wait a mo Peace was so shocked by her abrupt change of attitude that he found difficulty in speaking. I only asked

Thats rightyou only asked. You couldnt simply accept my gift of happiness and be grateful, could you? You had to start checking up on things.

I dont understand, Peace pleaded. Whats going on here?

Come on, buster out! The girl marched to the door of the surgery, flung it open and spoke to somebody in the next room. Private Peace is ready for you now, sir.

There must be some mistake, Peace said, getting to his feet. Im not a private. Im not in the

You want to bet? the girl said nastily as she pushed him into the adjoining room and slammed the door. His bewildered eyes took in the details of a square office whose walls were decorated with militaria and a large banner of midnight blue on which were embroidered, in silver, the words: SPACE LEGION203 Regiment. There was a single desk, behind which was seated a pudgy man wearing the uniform of a Space Legion captain. The blue carpet featured the Space Legion crest, and the various items of office equipment around the room, including the tubs which held ornamental plants, were similarly stencilled or engraved.

Nodding a silent greeting, the captain waved Peace into a chair which had Space Legion woven into the fabric of the back and cushion.

What is this place? Peace demanded.

Would you believe, the officers gaze flicked around the room, the headquarters of the YWCA?

The sarcasm missed Peace by several light years. That woman in the next room called me a private, he said anxiously.

Pay no attention to Florenceshe gets a bit edgy. The frustrations of the job, you know.

Peace sighed with relief. For a moment I thought Id done something stupid.

No, you havent done anything stupid. Not in the slightest. The pudgy man began to scrutinize his fingers with great care, as though taking inventory. Im Captain Widgetthe local induction officer for the Space Legion.

When I said I thought I had done something stupid, Peace said, alarm bells clamoring in his mind, I meant something like joining the Space Legion.

Widget lowered his face into his hands, and his shoulders quivered slightly. He remained that way for perhaps a minute, during which Peace stared at the top of his head with growing concern, then he straightened up, apparently making a great effort to bring himself under control.

Warren, he said, may I call you Warren?

Thats my name, Peace said noncommitally.

Thank you. Warren, doesnt the idea of being in the Legion appeal to you?

Peace gave a hoot of derision. Are you kidding? Ive heard all about thatgetting shipped all over the galaxy, getting shot at, getting burned up, getting frozen up, getting ate up by monsters, getting Peace stopped speaking as his suspicions crystallized into certainty that something awful had happened. Why should I do anything as crazy as joining the Legion?

Youve no idea?

Of course not.

There you are, then! Widget said triumphantly. There you are!

Captain, what are you talking about?

Let me put it this way, Warren. Widget leaned across his desk and, unaware that he had placed one of his elbows in a well-used ashtray, fixed Peace with an intense stare. Back in the old daysthree or four hundred years agowhy did men join the French Foreign Legion?

I dont want to play games with you, Captain.

Why did they join, Warren?

To forget, Peace said peevishly. Everybody knows that, but I

And today, Warren, why do men join the Space Legion?

To forgetbut I havent got anything I want to forget.

Not any more you havent. Widget leaned back in his chair, satisfied he had made his point.

Youve forgotten it.

Peaces jaw sagged. This is stupid. What have I forgotten?

If I told you that it would spoil everything, Widget said reasonably. Besides, I dont even know what was on your mind when you came in here thirty minutes ago. The Legion respects a mans privacy. We dont ask embarrassing questionswe just hook you up to the machine, and bleep! its all gone.

Bleep?

Yes. Bleep! The crushing burden of guilt and shame is lifted from your soul.

I Peace delved into his memory and found he had no recollection of having walked into the recruiting office. A smothering sense of panic developed within him as he discovered he had no memories at all of a previous life. It was as if he had been created, conjured up out of thin air, a few minutes earlier in the surgery next door.

What have you done to me? he mumbled, tentatively pressing his head with his fingertips as though it was a puffball which could cave in at the slightest touch. I cant remember anything! No past life! No childhood! No nothing!

Widget raised his eyebrows. Thats unusual. The machine usually blanks out the previous day or two in their entiretybecause of neuro surgethen it becomes selective to take out specific memories. If you cant remember anything at all you must have been a hard case, Warren. Everything you ever did must have been rotten.

This is terrible. Peace was unable to keep a quaver out of his voice. I cant even remember whats-her-namemy mother.

That makes me feel a lot better, Widget said. He sat upright and the curvatures of his well-padded face firmed out and became shiny as he smiled. It really churns me up when I have to reorientate nice young menclean-cut boys who perhaps made only one mistake in their whole livesbut youre different. You must have been evil, Warren.

Its a good thing for you that you didnt have to spend years of hard soldiering trying to wipe out the memories of your guilty past, because youd probably have never made it. Its a good thing for you weve reached the stage where memories can be electronically erased, and that the Legion is prepared to accept you and

Shut up! Peace bellowed, overwhelmed with fear and the urge to find a quiet place where he could concentrate on forcing his brain to do all the things normally expected of it. He rose to his feet. Ive got to get out of here.

I can understand that desire, Widget said gleefully, but theres a snag.

What is it?

Widget picked up a sheet of pale blue paper.

This contractit binds you to serve in the Legion for thirty years.

You know what you can do with that, Peace sneered. Im not going to sign it.

But youve already signed it, Widget said. Before we put you on the machine.

I did