Farradyne poised the needle. "Ready for another jolt?" he asked. "Feel
the craving yet, Brenner?"
Brenner grunted.
"Say it in that triple-voiced tongue of yours," snapped Farradyne. "Let
me hear you sing, Brenner!"
"Go to hell. I don't know what you're talking about."
"No? I'm surprised ... you mean there's something I know that you don't
know?" Farradyne loaded the hypodermic with slow deliberation, watching
Brenner's eyes to see if there was any sign of longing for the drug.
"Maybe I'll know more than I do now, pretty soon. I'm taking you off
the dope as soon as we get rid of the customers, so they can't hear you
screaming your lungs out for a jolt. You'll talk, all right. Put up the
arm, Brenner. Quietly and nicely--or I'll break it off at the arm-pit
and shove the needle into the other one."
"You're a devil from hell."
"And you're an angel, ripping out the damper rods to take us to
Heaven?" sneered Farradyne. "I owe you the works for that one. You'll
get 'em! Feel any craving?"
"No!"
Farradyne waved the needle in front of Brenner's face. "Maybe I should
think it over for a bit," he said.
"You wouldn't dare."
"No?"
"Look, Farradyne, no matter how smart you think you are, you won't get
anything out of me. And you'll not stop me from leaving this ship when
I want to leave."
"Trying to sidelong-urge me into slipping you your slug?" taunted
Farradyne.
Brenner held up his arm. "Shoot me the sugar, Farradyne. I could hold
out, but you couldn't afford to have me wide awake while we're on
Pluto. I know that as well as you do."
"You're not too bad off so far," said Farradyne, slipping the needle
into Brenner's arm. "But you're coming along. We'll find out how long
your nonchalance lasts after we get rid of the school-folks."
"Just go away and let me sleep."
"Have a nice dream," said Farradyne. "Because your next one will be a
wake-mare."
Farradyne waited until the eyelids closed heavily and Brenner's
breathing became deep and regular. Then he left him to explain to
the rest of the passengers that 'Hughes' was resting easily but that
the lack of sunshine on Pluto would impair his recovery-time. Then
Farradyne went aloft and into the landing pattern, one wary eye poised
for danger.
The Lancaster came down easily, and while the landing was as good as
any Farradyne had ever made, he was a jittering wreck from three hours
in the chair worrying about a recurrence of the Semiramide affair.
He checked in; the spaceport bus snaked out to meet them as they came
trooping down the landing ramp.
"All here?" called the driver.
"All that's coming," replied Farradyne.
"But the roster-count was--"
"Mr. Hughes has an attack of coryosis," offered Professor Martin. "He
is going--"
"--to be a bit late, but here I am," said a voice behind them. They
whirled to see Hughes-Brenner coming down the ramp, his bag packed, a
smile on his face.
* * * * *
Brenner laughed and his voice was hearty. "I kept telling Mr. Farradyne
that he was going a bit heavy on the rest-cure. I'm really quite all
right." He slapped Farradyne on the shoulder. "Coryosis is not as
dangerous as the books say it is," he said. "Certainly it is nothing to
keep a good man flat on his back!"
"But--"
"Sleep and isolation did the job," chuckled Brenner. "And now I'll be
happy to let any doctor on Pluto look down my throat. I'm a bit pale, I
suppose, but I assure you I'm quite well again."
He climbed into the spaceport bus, still thanking Farradyne for the
medication that had kept him quiet, and waved back gayly as the bus
sped off across the Pluto Spaceport.
Brenner had become 'Hughes' again to his friends, and had disappeared
under the protection of a group of people above reproach.
He was a very extraordinary gentleman, Farradyne thought glumly; he
had been able to walk off the ship with his eyes bright and his system
hale, when he should have been flat on his spine with a brain full of
marcoleptine--one of the most completely paralyzing drugs that had ever
been synthesized. He had feigned doped slumber and helplessness, then
had walked away, knowing that Farradyne had not the legal right to
raise a cry against him.
Hughes was a very remarkable fellow.
Farradyne watched the truck bringing out his shipment of refined
thorium ore, with a sneer directed at himself. Outpointed and
outsmarted--the evidence he had was very meager. Evidence? It was more
of a belief than evidence.
What did he have to fit together? A common pattern of love-lotus
background. A man who died with a discordant moan. A man who grunted in
a polytonal when surprised by a woman, and who could take a paralyzing
dose of marcoleptine and then walk out jauntily. An apparent
well-to-do family with a proud place in the community, and a girl who
worked hand-in-glove with love-lotus operators but who had never had
her nose in one of the hellish things.
He sat bolt upright. Could Carolyn be immune to hellflower as Brenner
was to marcoleptine? And did she make with three-toned cries when she
was surprised?
The thought that he had been avoiding came back again. Obviously, since
he himself was susceptible to marcoleptine and women like Norma were
susceptible to hellflower perfume, and neither of them could sing a
trio unaided, there must be two kinds of people!