Enthusiasm gave way quickly to fatigue and it was agreed that the session would continue after we all had had some sleep. I found myself tucked away m a small room in a soft bed, with a portrait of Mark Forer beaming down electronically upon me. I sipped a last sip of wine and crashed.
By the next evening I had put together the rudiments of a plan and had assembled my team.
"We have to try it out, smooth it out. Then, if it works,
we pass it on to others. We will operate and proceed like an ancient seam, a term I ran across when doing research into crime." I did not add that my reasons for doing this were to improve myself as a criminal. This would .have been too much for these simple IMers to understand. "Here is how it will work. This evening I will enter one of the eating and drinking establishments you have described to me. I will then stand next to a soldier and engage him in conversation. You, S timer, will be seated at a table with empty chairs, or next to an empty table. I will come over with the soldier and sit close enough for you to overhear our conversation. Sharia will be with you, she is your daughter."
"You are wrong, she is not my daughter."
"Just for tonight she is your daughter, like in a play. You do have plays here?"
"Of course. In fact I was on the stage when younger, before I was attracted to the delights of flowing electrons. I even acted the title role in some classics, how does it go again… to was, or not to was—"
"Fine, great, glad to have an old thespian aboard. So tonight you act the role of ShaHa's dad. Follow my lead and it should work. I'll pick an easy target this first time, an apple ripe for plucking. So there should not be any trouble."
"What do I do?" Morton asked. "You said I was on the team."
"Right. You have the important job of taping all of this for the record. So when it works as it should we can make training copies for others. Keep the recorder out of sight and the mike close. Ready?"
"Ready!"
We waited until after dark before we set out. Volunteers, drafted from the street of course, worked ahead of us to make sure we didn't meet any roadblocks or MPs. They reported back all the obstructions so we had a pleasant, if circuitous, walk to the Vaillant quarter of the city which I had been assured was the correct place to go for theatre, opera, dining out, lM reinforcement groups and the other heady joys of this civilized planet. It looked an interesting locale. Although it was fairly empty this evening with no more than a quarter of the establishments lighted up. Stirner led the way to the Fat Farmer, where he said he always enjoyed good food and better drink when in the city. There were some locals sampling its pleasures—but no invading soldiers.
"You told me that the army had leave passes, that they could be found in this area. Where are they?"
"Not inhere, obviously," Stirner said. "What do you mean—obviously?"
"Since they cannot pay they won't be served."
"Sounds fair. But, since they are the invading army, what stops them from just grabbing the booze 3hd helping themselves?"
"They are not stopped. However everyone leaves and the establishment shuts down."
"Obvious. All right then. To your stations and I'll see if I can drum up some trade."
I felt very pimpish standing under the streetlight with a dead cigar for a prop. In the local garb I was just part of the passing parade and no one took notice of me. I watched all of them though—on the lockout for MPs or anything that resembled the part of the military I did not want to see, stripes, bars, the usual thing. None of these appeared, but eventually t\lIO unmilitary figures in military uniform drifted into sight. Hands in pockets—shame!—caps on at odd angles. They stopped at the Fat Farmer and looked in the window with longing. I stepped up behind them and held up the cigar. "Either of you guys got a light?"
They jumped as though they had been goosed, shying back from me.
"You talked to us!" the bolder one said.
"I did. I pride myself on my linguistic ability. And if you will remember I asked you for a light for my cigar."
"I don't smoke."
"Good for you. Cigarettes kill. But don't you carry a fire apparatus for those who do?" They shook their heads in gloomy negation. Then I raised afinger rich with inspiration. "I know what—we will enter this eating and drinking place and they will light my cigar. Perhaps you young gentlemen from distant planet will also join me in a drink and I can practice my talking?"
"Won't work. We tried it and they closed the place and went home."
"That is only because you had no wirr, the local unit of exchange, our money, so could not pay. I am rich with wirr and am buying…"
I followed after their rapidly retreating footsteps, found them pushing against the bar in eager anticipation. Stimer had given me his wirrdisc and briefed me on its operation.
