"He was upset," Tom said. "He wanted to back out of the deal we made.
Said the picture was a phoney. But the thing that's bothering the police
is the _tone_ of the damned letter. It just doesn't sound like a man
about to kill himself and his wife--"
"Is that all?" Livia took the drink from Andrusco's hand and sipped at
it. "I thought it was something serious."
"It is serious!" Tom looked sternly at her. "I want to know something,
Mr. Andrusco. You told me that picture was genuine. Now I want you to
tell me again."
The man smiled, with perfect teeth. "How do you mean, genuine? Is it a
picture of a genuine infant with scales?"
"Yes."
"I assure you. In that respect, the picture is absolutely genuine."
Tom thought it over.
"Wait a while. Was the story genuine, too?"
John Andrusco smiled. He sat on the sofa, and rubbed the palms of his
hands over his knees. Then he looked towards Livia Cord and said:
"Well--I didn't think we could hold out on our clever Mr. Blacker as
long as we have. So we might as well enlist his cooperation fully. Eh,
Livia?"
"I think so." The girl smiled, her teeth sharp.
"What does that mean?" Tom said.
"The infant," John Andrusco answered slowly, "was not Walter Spencer's
child. That, I'm afraid, was nothing more than a little white lie."
Tom looked confused.
"Then what was it?"
Livia finished her drink.
"It was my child."
* * * * *
The man and the woman, whose grins now seemed permanently affixed to
their faces, were forced to wait a considerable amount of time before
Tom Blacker was both ready and able to listen to their explanation.
Livia did most of the talking.
"You'll probably be horrified at all this," she said, with a trace of
amusement around her red mouth. "Particularly since you and I have
been--" She paused, and looked towards Andrusco with a slight lift of
her shoulder. "Well, you know. But you needn't feel too squeamish, Tom.
After all, I was born and raised on Earth. I am, you might say, an
honorary Earth woman."
Tom's eyes bulged at her.
"This civilization from which my husband and I claim ancestry is perhaps
no older than your own. Unfortunately, we were not blessed with a
planetary situation as agreeable as Earth's. Our sun is far feebler, the
orbital paths of our moons act drastically upon our waters, causing
generations of drought and centuries of flood ..."
"What are you talking about?" Tom said hoarsely.
"I speak of home," Livia Cord said. And her eyes gleamed.
"Antamunda is the name we give it," John Andrusco said cordially. "A
world very much like your own in size and atmosphere, Mr. Blacker. But
tragically, a world whose usefulness has been gradually coming to an
end. Our ancestors, who were scientists of much ability, foresaw this
some hundreds of years ago. Since that time, they have been seeking a
solution to the problem."
"I don't believe this!"
"We have," Livia said carefully, "excellent evidence."
"Some five hundred years ago," Andrusco continued, "our people
despatched an exploratory space vessel. A home-hunting force, seeking to
relocate the surviving members of our race. It was a long, trying
odyssey, but it finally culminated in the selection of a new home. I
needn't tell you that the home is in your own solar system."
Tom shot to his feet. "You mean Earth? You mean you want to take over
here--"
Andrusco looked shocked. "Certainly not! What a violent thought, Mr.
Blacker!"
"The planet you call Mars," Livia said coolly, "was the selected
destination. A planet with only limited facilities for the support of
life. But a planet even more like our own dying world than Earth, Mr.
Blacker. So you needn't cry havoc about alien invaders." She laughed
sharply.
"Then what are you doing here?"
"Merely waiting," Andrusco said. "We are the offspring of the surviving
members of the expeditionary force from Antamunda, placed here on Earth
as a vanguard of the immigration that will shortly take place to this
system. But your own world is in no danger, Mr. Blacker. That you must
believe. Physically, our people are not your equals. Scientifically, we
are advanced in certain fields and shamefully backwards in others.
Biologically--" He frowned. "This is our greatest weakness. To the
Antamundans, your breeding capacity is nothing short of grotesque." His
handsome lip curled. He enjoyed watching Tom's reaction.
* * * * *