David folded himself into a chair, grateful for a few moments in which
to collect himself, while Marley gave the last of his orders.
"Put them in the Vermont granite quarries, and keep them at work for the
next year."
"As you say, Leader. With the usual secrecy, of course?"
"No, you blockhead! These are a bunch of nobodies. Use all the publicity
you can get. Keep a punishment a secret and how can it have any effect
on other people? No, I want full radio and news coverage and telecast
showings as they swing the first pick at the first rocks. People have
got to realize that the Leader knows best, that treason doesn't pay. No
matter how clever they think they are, they'll always get caught.
Understand?"
"As you say, Leader."
"Then get going." As the guard left the room, Leader Marley turned to
David. "What fools people are!"
He ran his beefy hands through a shock of black hair, blinked his eyes,
and wrinkled the heavy black brows that met over his nose. Wonderingly,
he shook his massive head as he drew his gleaming needler from his
breast pocket and played with it, tossing it from hand to hand while he
talked.
"I'm probably the most generous Leader the State has had since the
Atomic Wars, Wong, and I never withhold a privilege from someone who has
deserved it. But people mistake me when they think that I am weak and
will overlook treason."
"Your generosity is a byword, Leader Marley," said Wong. "But some
people are incapable of acting for their best interests even when you
have defined it for them. Who are these latest traitors?"
"Oh, nobody really important, of course, except as they waste time which
they owe to the State. Just attempts at illegal study. An Office
Category who had found a basement room in a deserted building and was
spending all his evening hours there practicing the violin. A Theater
man who was illegally trying to learn carpentry. And a teacher of
mathematics who had forged a key to the Linguistics library, and had
been getting in every night to study a dead language--Cuneiform, Latin,
something like that, utterly without practical value. This last one is
an old man, too, and ought to have known better. People must be made to
realize that if they want the privilege of useless study, they will have
to earn it. And I am very broadminded in such cases."
"Nobody has better reason to know that than I, Leader Marley, and I am
always grateful to you."
Marley coughed and straightened the jacket over his bearlike chest as he
put back his needler.
"Now to business. Where's that memorandum, Lanza?"
Dr. Lanza handed him the paper, then sat down beside the Leader.
"First. When Dr. Lanza called on you last week, he found the door to
your office locked. What explanation do you have?"
David smiled and spread his hands. "My explanation is the generosity of
Leader Marley. You have so many affairs to occupy your attention that it
is not surprising that you do not remember rewarding me with a Free
Choice some years ago, for my work on Martian Blue. I chose, as I am
sure you remember now, an occasional hour of Privacy."
The Leader blinked. "That's right. I had forgotten. Well, the Leader
never goes back on his word. Though why in the name of Marley you
fellows want a crazy thing like that is beyond me. What do you _do_,
behind a locked door, that you don't want anyone to see?"
"Do you doubt my loyalty, Leader Marley?"
"I doubt everything. What do you _want_ with Privacy?"
Lanza broke in amiably. "I'm afraid we just have to accept such wishes
as one of the harmless abnormalities of the Research mind, Leader. Since
I grew up in that Category, I understand it to some extent."
"You're right in calling it abnormal. I think perhaps I'd better remove
that from the possible Choices in the future. It could easily be
misused, and it never did make any sense to me.
"Well, second. It's been more than three years since you reported any
progress with the problem of White Martian Fever, Wong. What is your
explanation?"
"Research is not always swift, Leader."
"But I distinctly ordered you to find an immunizing agent within three
years. Our colonies on Mars cannot wait forever. I've been patient with
you, but you've had more than enough time."
"I am very sorry, Leader Marley. I have done my best and so have my
colleagues. But the problem is complex. If I may explain, we had to find
a suitable culture medium for growing the virus, and then we had to work
at the problem of coupling it with suitable haptens--"
Impatiently, Marley waved his hand. "You know I don't understand your
jargon. That's not my business, what troubles you've had. I want
results. You got results on Blue Martian quickly enough."
"We were fortunate. But when we storm the citadel of knowledge, Leader
Marley, no one can predict how long it will take for the citadel to
fall."
"Nonsense! I'm warning you, Wong, you're failing in your duty to the
State, and you can't escape the consequences with poetic doubletalk. I
allow special privileges to you people in Research and I expect a proper
appreciation in return. When I order you to produce a protection for
White Martian, I want results!"
"But you can't get a thing like that just by asking for it. Such things
are simply not under your control."
"Watch yourself, Wong! Your remarks are dangerously close to treason!"
"Is it treason to tell you a plain fact?"
Stony-faced, David stared defiantly at Marley, trying to control the
trembling of his body. If he had had a needler at that instant, he
realized incredulously, he would have shot the Leader and thought his
own life a small price to pay for such a pleasure.
Lanza coughed. "I'm afraid Dr. Wong is not well, Leader. Worrying over
the slowness of his work has distorted his reactions. But I am sure that
you will understand, as you always do, and be indulgent."
"I'll overlook your remarks, Wong," said Marley, relaxing. "But you'd
better change your attitude. You Research people cause me more trouble
than any other three Categories put together. Sometimes I wonder if a
spell in the granite quarries mightn't--"
A light flashed on his desk. He watched the blinking code for a second,
then rose abruptly and left the room.
The two men sat in silence. David glanced at Lanza, and Lanza shifted in
his chair.
"Thanks for the good word," said David wearily. "How do you like being a
Ruler, by the way? When we were at Medschool together, I thought you
were a man with ideas."
"When I was at Medschool I didn't know what was good for me," Lanza
replied stiffly.
"And you think you do now?"
A slow flush crept over Lanza's face. "Look here, Wong! Each man has to
make his own terms with himself. Don't act so smug! You shut yourself
away inside the nice white walls of your laboratory and ignore all the
conflicts of life. You shut your ears and your eyes, live in perfect
harmony with your test tubes, and let the world go hang. Well, that
isn't my way."
"Your way, apparently, is to worm yourself into the confidence of that
steel-hearted imbecile who rules our lives and our thoughts, and spend
twenty-four hours a day saying, 'Yes, Yes,' and waiting for him to die
so you can step into his shoes!"
"We're alone," said Lanza. "I won't report you. But I have no intention
of justifying myself. Have you any idea why you've been let alone for so
long? You haven't produced anything tangible in several years. Haven't
you ever wondered why no one put on the pressure? Haven't--"
He broke off as Marley lumbered back into the room and fell into a
chair. The Leader's manner had altered. He stared at David with grim
inquiry, the beady eyes traveling slowly over him, taking in his rumpled
hair, his strained face, the rigid set of his shoulders.
At last Marley spoke, his voice soft with menace.
"You're looking well, Dr. Wong. Remarkably well. In fact, it occurs to
me that you don't seem to have aged a bit since my last visit to your
laboratory. Tell me, how do you keep your youth?"
* * * * *
David could feel the rush of blood through his body, feel the thud of
his racing heart. He kept his voice low so that it would not tremble.
"Thank you, Leader Marley, for your kindness in noticing my appearance.
I suppose I chose my parents well. They both lived to be over ninety,
you know."
"This is no joking matter. I've just had a report. An epidemic of Blue
Martian fever has broken out among the people of your Institute. Why
have you not mentioned it?"
"If you will forgive me, Leader Marley, I've had no chance. I reported
it in the usual manner to the health authorities, and have here in my
briefcase a memorandum which I hoped to bring to your attention, among
several other matters, when you had finished giving your instructions to
me."
Marley continued implacably, "And how did this epidemic begin? It was my
understanding that no insect existed here on Earth that could transmit
the virus. Yet several people from your lab came down with the disease
on the same day. What is your explanation?"
"It's very simple. To prepare the vaccine, as I am sure you will
remember from your last visit to us, we have to keep in the lab a
limited number of the _Fafli_, the Martian insects which act as hosts at
one stage of the virus's life. Last week a Menial carelessly knocked
over one of the cages and several _Fafli_ escaped. The Menial was
discharged, of course, and put in Punishment, but the damage had already
been done."
"You have a very ready explanation."
"Would you rather I had none at all, Leader Marley?"
"Well, let that go." Marley drummed his plump fingers on the desk as he
continued. "There was another report for me just now. A report so wild,
so incredible, so staggering that I can scarcely bring myself to take it
seriously. From an Office Category at the Institute."
David's heart beat wildly, but he forced a smile to his lips. "Oh, yes.
You must mean Miss Hachovnik. I've been worried about that poor girl for
some time."
"What do you mean, 'poor girl'?"
"It's very distressing to me, because she has been a good and loyal
worker for many years. But she is becoming unstable. She has a tendency
to burst into tears over nothing, is sometimes hysterical, seems to have
secret grievances, and is extremely jealous of all women whom she
considers more attractive. She was never too bright, to be sure, but
until recently she has done her work well, so I've hated to take any
action. Just this morning I had to send her home because she was ill."
"Do you mean to say," asked Marley, "that none of her story is true?"
"I don't know. What is her story?"
"She reports that you have been working on a private project of your
own, instead of on White Martian. That you have discovered a way to make
people immortal, by infecting them with Blue Martian. What is your
explanation?"
David only stared, his mind so blurred with panic that he could not
speak. His stunned silence was broken by a laugh. It was Dr. Lanza,
leaning backward in his chair, holding himself over the stomach as he
shook his head.
"These hysterical women!" His laughter trailed off to a commiserating
chuckle. "You're too forbearing, Wong. You shouldn't keep a worker who's
so far gone. Take a leaf from Leader Marley's book and remember:
Kindness is often weakness; when it is necessary for the good of the
State, be harsh!"
"I hardly know what to say," said David. "I had no idea she'd gone so
far."
"Then there's no truth in it?" Marley persisted. "What she says is
impossible?"
"Well," said David judiciously, "we people in Research have learned not
to call anything _impossible_, but this dream of immortality is as old
as the human race. We have a thousand legends about it, including the
story of the Phoenix, that fabulous bird which, when consumed by fire,
rose triumphant from its own ashes to begin life anew. A pretty story,
of course. But I need only put it to a mind as logical as yours, Leader
Marley. Throughout all the millenia of man's existence, the Sun has
always risen each morning in the east, and thus we know that it always
will. That is the order of nature. Likewise, from the earliest
generations of man, no individual has ever lived longer than a hundred
and some years, and thus we know that he never will. That is the order
of Nature and we can't alter it to the best of my knowledge."
Leader Marley was thoughtful. He touched the intercom.
"Send in Officer Magnun."
David held his breath.
"Magnun, Office Category Hachovnik is to be taken from her home at once
and put in indefinite Psycho-detention."
Marley stood up. "Very well, Dr. Wong. You may go. But I shall suspend
your privilege of Privacy, at least until after you have devised a
protection against White Martian. It is not wise to disregard the wishes
of the Leader. Lanza, show him out."
At the street door, they paused. Lanza looked at David speculatively.
"You _do_ keep your youth well, David."
"Some people do."
"I remember that legend of the Phoenix. What do you suppose the Phoenix
did with his new life, once he'd risen from the ashes of his old self?"
"I'm no philosopher."
"Neither am I. But you and I both know that the principle of induction
was exploded centuries ago. It's true that the Sun _has_ always risen in
the east. But is there anything to keep it, someday, from rising in the
west?"
* * * * *
That night David sat late at his desk. Through the open door behind him,
he could hear the watchguard slowly pacing the dimly lit corridor. He
could feel time pressing at his back. He was reprieved, he knew, but for
how long?
He got up, at one point, when the corridor behind him was quiet, and
went to the bookcase. He pressed the brass handle, saw the shelves
silently swing away from the wall, then set it back again. The
mechanism, installed a century ago by a cautious politician, was still
in good order.
Back at his desk, he thought of Leah and her lost youth, lost because of
his own impersonal attitude. He felt sorry for her, but there was
nothing he could do for her now. It was a relief to know that Tanya, at
least, remained hidden and secure in her sister's apartment.
It was after midnight before he closed his notebook and locked it away
in the top drawer. His plans were completed. There would not be time
given him, he knew, to finish his work on White Martian. That would have
to be dropped, and resumed at some more favorable time in the future--if
there was a future for him. But he would begin at once to produce in
quantity a supply of the SDE-Blue Martian, for he was sure that the
untrained guards who watched his movements would never realize that he
had shifted to another project.
With a brief good night to the guard, he left the building to walk home.
His shoulders were straight, his stride confident, and he disdained
looking behind him to see if anyone was following. He had made his terms
with himself, and only death, which he would certainly try to prevent,
could alter his plans.
Going into his apartment he wearily turned on the light. Then he froze,
feeling as though he had been clubbed. Leah Hachovnik was huddled at one
end of the sofa, her face dripping tears.
"I thought you'd never come," she whispered.
He slumped down beside her. "How did you get here, Leah? I thought you
were--"
"I hid in your hallway until the watchguard was at the other end. When
his back was turned, I just took off my shoes and slipped in. I've been
waiting for hours." Her voice was almost inaudible, spent beyond
emotion.
"They got Tanya," she said dully. "They took her away."
"What happened? Quick!"
"After I reported to BureauMed--I'm sorry I did that, Dr. Wong, but I
just couldn't help myself. I didn't tell them about Tanya and the
others, just about you. Then I walked around for hours, hating you,
hating Tanya, hating everybody. Finally I got so tired that I went home.
Just as I got into the hall, I heard a loud knock and I saw Officer
Magnun at my door. When Tanya opened it, he simply said, 'Office
Category Hachovnik?' When she nodded her head, he said, 'You're under
detention.' She screamed and she fought, but he took her away. Since
then, I've been hiding. I'm afraid."
David tried to think. He remembered that he had said only "Miss
Hachovnik" in his talk with the Leader. Had Marley never known that
there was more than one? But Lanza surely knew. Or had he merely assumed
that Magnun would ask for Leah? Would they realize, at Psycho-detention,
that they had the wrong woman? Probably not, for she would be hysterical
with terror, and her very youth and beauty taken in connection with the
"jealousy and envy of younger women" which was noted in her commitment
order, would seem to confirm her madness. He was still safe, for a
while--if he could keep Leah away from the Institute.
"I'm afraid," she whimpered. "Don't let them put me away."
"Then you'll have to do exactly as I tell you. Can you follow orders
exactly?"
"Yes, yes!"
"I'll have to hide you here. We can fix up my library as a room for you.
It's the only room I can keep locked, and which my Menial never enters
in my absence. Whatever happens, Leah--no matter what happens--keep
yourself hidden. More than your life depends on that."
* * * * *
When the three convalescents returned from the hospital, pale and shaky,
David summoned them to his office. At the door, Watchguard Jones looked
them over.
"Say, that Blue Martian fever sure does take it out of you. You fellows
look like you've been plenty sick!"
"They have been," said David. "Let them by so they can sit down and
rest."
Jones moved aside, but he lounged in the doorway, listening.
David ignored him. "Glad to see you back, gentlemen. I'll make this
brief. You have been the victims of a laboratory accident just as much
as if you'd been contaminated with radiation. Our Leader Marley, who
understands the problems of all Categories, has very generously
consented to grant you a two weeks' convalescence, in addition to a Free
Choice. Take a few minutes to think over your decision."
He strolled over to the window and looked out at the green of the trees
just bursting into leaf. Then, as if on impulse, he turned back.
"While you're thinking it over, will you look at these protocols? We
discussed them before you got sick, you remember--a plan to prevent an
epidemic of Blue Martian. Do you approve of the final form? I'd like to
carry on, and after all," he added with an ironic smile, "it's getting
later than we might think."
He handed each man a sheet of paper whose contents were identical. They
studied them. Karl Haslam was the first to speak.
"You think, then, that other cases of Blue Martian may develop?"
"It is certainly probable. Those _Fafli_ insects were never caught."
Karl looked back at his paper. It contained a list of names, some of
which were well known to all the country, some of them obscure.
Thoughtfully, he nodded as he ran down the list.
Hudson glanced up, frowning, his finger pointed at one name.
"I don't know," he said slowly, "that this particular experiment would
prove useful. Surely the Lanza method has not proved to be as effective
as we once hoped."
"You may be right. But there's the bare possibility that the _modified_
Lanza method might be of enormous benefit to us."
"It is uncertain. Too much of a risk. That's my opinion."
"Then I'll reconsider. The rest has your approval? Very well. And now
what choice have you made for your holiday?"
"I think we are all agreed," said Karl soberly. "We'll have an Aimless
Tramp."
"An excellent idea," approved David. "Oh, Jones, will you get an aircab
to take the doctors to BureauMed, and then arrange for their Roboplanes
to be serviced and ready in an hour?"
"I don't know as I ought to leave my post," said Jones.
"You'd rather stay with us and perhaps be exposed to the Fever?"
"Okay, okay!"
When his footsteps had died away, David leaned forward.
"We've done our best. Another month or so and we should be completely
ready for our retirement act."
"If we have a month," said Faure.
David grinned. "Well, if our time runs out, at least we'll go down
fighting. You know all your lines, your props are ready, the plot is
worked out, and we can slip into our makeup in an instant--provided the
audience shows up."
"You're getting to be quite a joker, David," said Karl. "What if the
audience comes around to the stage door?"
"Then we'll try to receive him properly. Our Leader is a man of iron,
but I doubt that he's immortal."
They heard the approaching guard.
"I'm sure you'll benefit from your holiday," David went on. "That last
checkup showed an antibody titer entirely too high for safety."
"In other words, it's time for us to get going?" asked Karl, smiling.
"That's right. Only the next time the antibody curve rises, it will be
for keeps."
* * * * *
Four days later it was reported that Judge Brinton, the well-known
champion of Category rights, was ill with Blue Martian fever. Three
little-known nuclear physicists living in the same apartment in Oak
Ridge developed symptoms on the same day. Sporadic cases of Blue Martian
flared up all over the continent. Occasionally a whole family was
affected--husband, wife, and all the children. There was a mild epidemic
at MIT, a more serious one at the School of Social Structure, and at
Harvard Medical School nearly a third of the senior class, and they the
most brilliant, were hospitalized at the same time.
Rumors blanketed the country like a fog, and people everywhere became
uneasy. There were no deaths from the illness, but the very idea that an
infectious disease could flare up unpredictably all over the nation, out
of control, was frightening. It was said that the disease had been
beamed to Earth by alien enemies from space; that all its victims became
sterile; or that their minds were permanently damaged.
It was also said, though people laughed even as they repeated the rumor,
that if you once had Blue Martian Fever you'd become immortal. This
particular theory had been clearly traced to the ravings of a red-haired
madwoman who was confined to Psycho-detention, but still it was too
ridiculous not to repeat. For a week, comedians rang a hundred changes
on the basic joke:
Wife: Drop dead!
Husband: I can't. I've had Blue Martian.
The unrest became so great that Leader Marley himself appeared on the
telecaster to reassure the nation.
He was an impressive figure on the lighted screen, resting solid and at
ease in a leather chair, raising his massive black head, lifting his big
hand to gesture as his rich voice rolled out.
"You have nothing to fear," he said. "Under your beneficent Leaders,
infectious disease has been wiped out many years ago. BureauMed informs
me that these scattered cases of Blue Martian fever have been caused by
the escape of a few _Fafli_ insects, which have, since then, been
isolated and destroyed. The illness has no serious after-effects. And as
for the rumors that it confers immortality--"
He allowed his face to break into a pitying smile as he slowly shook his
head, looking regretful and yet somehow amused.
"Those who continue to spread gossip about the fever will only reveal
themselves as either psychotics or traitors. Whichever they are, they
will be isolated for the good of our society."
The effect of his words was somewhat diminished by the brief glimpse
people had of Dr. Lanza, who reached a hand to help the Leader rise. For
Dr. Lanza wore an anxious frown, and his face was thin with worry.
In spite of numerous arrests, the rumors continued. For two weeks
sporadic outbreaks of the fever occurred, and then, abruptly, they
ceased.
* * * * *
It was more than a week after the last case had been reported that David
sat in his basement laboratory beside the opened mouse cage, watching
with wry affection as the furry creatures crawled over his hand. These
were historic mice, he reflected, whose reactions to SDE had opened up a
new world, a world which he must somehow help to make better than the
present one.
His three colleagues had returned a few days ago from their holiday.
They had calmly come back to work, and apparently nobody had thought to
put two and two together, and thus connect the epidemic with the
vacationers. It had been unfortunate that Tanya should have been put
under arrest; it was difficult trying to find amusement for Leah so that
she would keep out of sight, but still, on the whole, their luck had
been good.
But it was time for David to go back to work in his office. Gently he
detached the mice from his hand, dropped them into their cage, and
closed the wire trap. He took his leather pencil case and the keys to
his desk from the pocket of his lab coat and laid them on the desk,
below the nail on which his wristwatch hung. Carelessly he dropped his
lab coat onto the desk and reached for his jacket, then paused,
listening.
The chatter in the technicians' room suddenly died. In the unnatural
quiet sounded a steady march of feet.
David turned to meet the probing black eyes of Leader Marley. Just
behind him were Dr. Lanza and Officer Magnun.
There was no time to conceal his mice, David realized. Shrugging into
his jacket, he strode forward without hesitation, a smile on his face,
and stretched out his hand.
"Leader Marley! This is indeed an honor. If you had only notified us of
your visit, we should have been prepared."
"Young as ever, I see, Wong."
"Thank you, Leader." There was no banter in Marley's eyes, he noted, but
he continued amiably. "It has been some years since you have honored us
by a visit in person. I'm afraid a laboratory is not a very exciting
place, but I'd be honored to show you anything that may be of interest
to you."
A faint contempt curled Marley's mouth as he glanced around the room.
"Nothing to see that I haven't seen before, is there? A lot of test
tubes, a bunch of flasks, a mess of apparatus you'd think had been
dreamed up by an idiot, and a bad smell. You still keep animals, I
notice."
He sauntered over to the bench, picked up the cage and looked at the
scurrying rodents.
David scarcely breathed.
Marley only nodded. "Well, mice are mice." He put down the cage and
turned away. "These look just like the ones I saw when I was here eight
or ten years ago. Same white patch on the forelimbs. I never knew mice
could live that long."
"But--" began Lanza, bending over to study the mice.
"What an amazing memory you have, Leader," said David. "Just as you
guessed, these mice are the direct descendants of the ones you saw on
your former visit, a special mutant strain. The chief difference is that
these are marked with white patches on the _right_ forelimbs, while, as
I am sure you recall, the original specimens were marked on the _left_
forelimbs. Odd how these marks run in families, isn't it?"
Lanza put down the cage and strolled toward the door as Marley took a
last bored look around.
"Nothing new here that I ought to see, Lanza?"
"No. Nothing new."
"Well, I've no time to waste. I've come here for two reasons, Dr. Wong.
We both want a booster shot for Blue Martian. Ten years is a long time,
and there's been this epidemic."
"Which is now under control."
"That may be, but I still want a booster. You Research people don't
always know as much as you think you do. When that's done, I want a
detailed report of your progress on White Martian."
"I shall be happy to give it," said David. "If you will go directly to
my office, I'll pick up the vaccine and syringes, and be with you in a
few minutes."
Marley and Officer Magnun marched to the door, and David followed,
standing aside to let Lanza precede him. Lanza hesitated there, staring
at the floor. Then he smiled and looked directly at David.
"Beautiful spring weather we are having. I'm wondering about the
marvelous order of nature. Did you happen to notice, this morning,
whether the Sun did actually rise in the east?"
David stared at the retreating back. There was no longer any doubt in
his mind. Lanza knew. What was he going to do?
"Hurry up, Doctor," said Officer Magnun from the doorway.
"Right away." He opened the refrigerator and inspected the two groups of
red-capped vials sitting on the shelf. He had no time to think, no time
to weigh pros and cons; he could only act. Choosing two vials, he added
them to the sterile kit from the autoclave, and took a last look around.
He noticed his watch still hanging on the wall, and the lab coat which
covered his leather pencil case. He started to take them, then slowly
dropped his hand and touched the intercom.
"Get me Dr. Karl Haslam."
"You're keeping the Leader waiting," said Magnun, but David paid no
attention.
"Dr. Haslam? Dr. Wong speaking. I may be a little late getting up to see
those precipitates of yours. But you keep them simmering, just in case.
It's very probable that the antibody curve will rise.... Yes, I'll let
you know if I can."
Magnun followed him to the office, then strolled away for a chat with
Watchguard Jones.
David put his things on his desk and made his preparations in
businesslike fashion while Marley and Lanza glanced curiously around the
office. He watched apprehensively as Marley inspected the bookcase, then
turned away.
"I never could understand why Research needs so many books," he
remarked.
"Please roll up your sleeve, Leader Marley. I'm ready for you now."
Deftly he assembled the syringe, filled it to the two centimeter mark,
and scrubbed the arm presented to him.
"Ready?" He inserted the needle and slowly expelled the fluid. Then,
taking a fresh syringe, he repeated the operation, filling from the
second vial.
"Why do those bottles have different numbers?" asked Marley. "Aren't we
getting the same thing?"
"Certainly. Just lab routine, so we can keep track of how many units
have been used from our stock. There, that does it, Lanza. Both of you
will be perfectly safe for a good many years to come."
He was washing his hands at the sink when he heard a struggle at the
door. Turning, he saw Leah, thin, gaunt and terrified, held fast in the
grip of Officer Magnun, who forced her inside and slammed the door
behind them.
"What's the meaning of this intrusion?" demanded Marley.
"There's some funny business going on, Leader," said Magnun. "I caught
this woman trying to sneak in here. She says she's Miss Hachovnik and
she works here. Only she ain't. I arrested Miss Hachovnik myself, and I
remember well enough what she looked like. She was a cute chick, not a
bit like this dame."
Marley was staring at the sobbing girl, eyes blinking as he thought,
looked back, remembered. Slowly his eyes shifted to David, and David
felt like a man impaled.
"You may leave, Magnun," said the Leader.
"You don't want me to arrest this woman?"
"Let go of her! I said you may leave!"
"As you say, Leader."
When the door closed, the room throbbed to Leah's sobs.
"I couldn't help it, Dr. Wong," she cried. "I got so bored, sitting and
looking at those books, day after day, with nothing to do! I thought I'd
just slip down here for an hour and say hello to people, and--"
"Quiet, Hachovnik!" roared Marley. He quieted his voice. "I understand
now, Wong. I remember. There were two girls. Twins. The one in
Psycho-detention, according to Officer Magnun, is still beautiful and
young. It's no use, Wong. You do know the secret of immortality. And you
told me the Phoenix was only a fairy tale!"
* * * * *
David felt entirely calm. Whatever might happen now, at least the
suspense was over. He had done all he could, and it was a relief to have
things in the open. He thought fleetingly of his colleagues, alerted by
his message, frantically putting their plans into operation, but he
leaned back against the sink with every appearance of ease.
"You're not quite right, Leader Marley. I cannot confer immortality. All
I am able to do is stave off the aging process."
"That will do me nicely. And it's connected somehow with the Blue
Martian virus?"
"Yes. The disease serves as the vehicle."
With a brisk motion, Marley drew his needler from his breast pocket and
aimed it steadily at David. "_Give it to me!_"
"You're rather ambiguous," said David. How were his friends getting
along? Were they ready yet? Had Karl visited the basement lab? "Do you
mean you want me to give you the injection to prolong your life, or the
secret of how to do it, or what?"
"Don't quibble! First you'll give me the injection to make me immortal.
Then you'll turn over to me all your notes on procedure. Then my friend
here will needle you with a shaft of electrons and end your interest in
the problem."
"Surely you won't keep such a good thing all for yourself," said David.
"What about Dr. Lanza? He's your right-hand man. Don't you want him to
live forever, too? What about Officer Magnun? He's a faithful servant."
"You're stalling, Wong. Do you want me to kill you now?"
"It won't be wise to needle me yet, Leader Marley. The secret would be
lost forever."
"I'll have your notes!"
"Yes? Try to read them. They're written in Coptic, a dead language that
you consider it a waste of time to learn, because such knowledge is
impractical. There aren't half a dozen men on Earth who could make head
or tail of my notebook."
"Then I'll find that half-dozen! I want the injection." He gestured with
the gleaming weapon.
"This is once when I have no Free Choice," said David. "Very well." He
started toward the door, but halted at the roar of command.
"Stop! Do you think I'm fool enough to let you out of my sight?"
"But I have to get the inoculant."
"Use the intercom. Send for it."
David slumped into the chair and opened the intercom. He could almost
feel the electronic shaft of the needler ripping into his body. His
heart beat wildly, and the tension of adrenalin ran through his body.
His lips felt cold, but he held them steady as he spoke into the dial.
"Get me Dr. Haslam.... Karl? David Wong speaking. Will you send someone
up with a vial of phoenix special? The precipitates? I should say the
antibody titer has reached the danger point. Don't delay treatment any
longer."
Silently they waited. Marley's grim face did not relax; his eyes were
alight. Leah lay back in her chair with closed eyes, and Lanza stared
intently at the floor.
A soft knock came at the door, and a female technician hurried in,
carrying a tray.
"I'm sorry to be so slow, Dr. Wong. Dr. Haslam had a little trouble
locating the right vial. Oh, and he said to tell you not to worry about
those precipitates. They're taken care of."
"Just a minute," said David. "Leader Marley, Miss Hachovnik here is very
ill. Won't you let this girl help her to the rest room? She'll be safe
there until you're ready for her."
Marley looked at the half-fainting woman. "All right. You take her
there, Lanza, and this girl too. Lock them in. And she's not to talk. Do
you understand? She's not to talk!"
"As you say, Leader Marley," the technician whispered. She helped Leah
to her feet, and Lanza followed them from the room.
Marley closed the door and locked it. "Now, then, Wong, give me that
shot, and heaven help you if you try any tricks!"
"Will you bare your arm while I prepare the syringe?"
Awkwardly hanging onto the needler, Marley tugged at his sleeve while
David calmly picked up a bottle of colorless liquid and filled his
syringe. He turned to the Leader, swabbed his arm, then picked up the
syringe.
"There you are," said David.
Jerking the syringe upward, he forced a thin jet of pure alcohol into
the man's eyes. Marley screamed. Agonizing pain blinded him, and as he
clutched at his eyes, David snatched the needler from the writhing
fingers, and flashed the electronic dagger straight to the heart.
He stared at the twitching body for only an instant. People were
pounding on the door, shouting. He tugged at the desk drawer to get his
notebook, then remembered sickly that he had left his keys in the lab.
He would have to leave his notes.
[Illustration]
The shouts were growing louder, people were battering the door. Swiftly
he moved to the bookcase, swung it away from the wall, and dropped into
darkness.
He brought the bookcase back, then turned and ran along the black
passageway.
* * * * *
Leader Lanza sat in his suite at State House, conferring with his
subordinates.
"It hardly seems possible, Magnun, that so many people could have
slipped through your fingers without help from the Military. You say
both the Hachovnik twins have disappeared?"
"Yes, Leader."
"And how many people from the Institute?"
"Six, Leader. But it didn't do them any good. We got them, all right."
"But you found no bodies!"
"They wouldn't _have_ bodies after we got through with them, Leader."
"You're quite certain, Officer Magnun, that all the fugitives were
destroyed?"
Lanza looked tired, and his officers noticed in him a lack of firmness,
an indecision, to which they were not accustomed in a Leader.
"Say, those babies never had a chance, Leader. We picked up their
roboplanes somewhere over Kansas, and we shot them out of the air like
ducks. They didn't even fire back. They just crashed, burned,
disintegrated. They won't give you any more trouble. Why, we even picked
up the remains of Doc Wong's wristwatch and that old beat-up pencil case
of his." He flung them on the desk.
Lanza fingered the charred and molten relics.
"That will do, Magnun. I'll call you when I need you."
"Say, ain't you feeling well, Leader? You look kind of green."
"That will be all, Magnun!"
"As you say, Leader."
Lanza shoved aside the charred remnants and spread out the papers
waiting for him, the unimportant, miscellaneous notes accumulated over
the years by Hudson, Faure, and Haslam. And the unreadable notebook of
David Wong. He sighed and looked up as his secretary entered.
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Leader. You look tired."
"The funeral this morning was quite an ordeal, and so much has happened
the last three days!"
"Well, I thought you ought to know that strange reports are coming in.
Some of our most prominent citizens have disappeared. We're trying to
trace them, of course, but--"
"Anything more?"
"Those rumors about Blue Martian are cropping up again."
"Yes? And--?"
"That old man you asked me to bring from the Vermont quarries, the one
who was detained for illegal study of the Coptic language? Well, I guess
the excitement of his release was too much for him. He died of a heart
attack when he was being taken to the plane."