"Efficiently," he replied vaguely, "in a way I cannot yet disclose.
Satisfaction, however, is guaranteed."
"Ten percent of the insurance money is the total fee?"
"Ten percent of _all_ insurance monies," he corrected, "which is not
necessarily the same thing." He drew a paper from his coat, opened it
and handed her a pen.
"I have to sign something?" she asked. "But won't that incriminate me?"
"You promise to pay the ten percent _in consideration of services
rendered_," the man explained. "The services are, of course, not
stated."
She took the pen and signed before she could talk herself out of it.
"When will it be?"
Carefully, he folded the document and returned it to his coat. "Before
we reach Arcturus," the man said, getting up. "Thank you very much,
Mrs. Bennet. Glad to be of service to you." And he walked away.
* * * * *
She nodded vaguely and then began considering what she had done. George
was an android, she told herself again, only an android. But how could
you tell an android from a human? Certainly not outwardly. Blood
chemistry was different, but the blood was red just the same. The skin
was a different composition, yet it felt and looked like human skin.
The personality and the character had human flaws in them. What, then,
was the difference? The answer came: an android was not human because
he was an android, which by definition was not human.
This reasoning tended to confuse her, and she tried to push the
thoughts from her mind. It was done, and that was all that mattered,
she told herself. Pangs of conscience might plague her now, but
afterward the soothing balm of money would ease the pain. They'd never
gotten along, so what difference did it make.
She forced her thoughts away from that and wondered how they'd do it.
She hoped suddenly that it wouldn't be violent, and then she recalled
that a double indemnity clause would give her twice the hundred
thousand--less the ten percent, of course, for services rendered. At
least, she hoped he wouldn't suffer. He'd suffered enough during his
lifetime, just for being an android.
It must have been horrible, she thought, having to go through life
knowing you're less than human, or at least in having people think
that. Even if humans accepted you as an equal (which they didn't,
despite any laws), you'd have to live with the knowledge that you
evolved from an artificially produced embryo under conditions
simulating normal birth. Artificial growth, she thought disgustedly,
like the hydroponic production of vegetables. She felt a sudden sorrow
for him, a sympathy that was as far from pity as it had ever been.
Perhaps it was even for his own good, she tried to rationalize, to do
this. And yet she was still not certain.
George came down the aisle toward her, and she looked away hastily. She
felt the seat depress beside her.
"The subspace drive will be ready in a few minutes more," he said.
"Then we'll really be on our way to Arcturus."
"Yes," she said quietly, not looking at him. She wanted to say
something sarcastic, something to make him squirm, something that would
give an aura of normality to her actions. Yet the words stuck in her
throat, refusing to come. He has only a few moments, she told herself,
let them be pleasant.
She was surprised that the thought put her in a bad light, almost
admitting that it was her fault that they didn't get along; yet it was
difficult to be patient with someone who always seemed to be thinking
grave thoughts, as though constantly reminding himself he was an
inferior.
But there was a time, she remembered, when he had not been grave. When
they had first met, for example, and during the courtship that had
followed. A smile touched her lips as she thought about the little
things, the picnics and the sudden drenching rainstorms that inevitably
came after the ants were finished with their food, the 'copter trips
over the scenic wonderlands of Earth, the first accidental brushings of
their hands that had led to a kiss and then to another. But that was
before she had known he was an android.
She felt suddenly ashamed that the word "android" could mean so much.
"George?" She reached out and touched his hand. It felt warm and human.
He turned, bewilderment in those android human-looking eyes. He smiled
at her, rather nervously, she thought. "Yes?"
"Nothing," she said, "nothing at all." She drew her hand away and
stared straight ahead.
It was wrong, she thought suddenly, it was the wrongest thing she had
ever done in her life. She knew that with sudden clarity. All the money
in the universe would not be worth the life of this--this _human_
beside her. Yes, that was it, android or not, he was as human as anyone
she had ever known.
* * * * *
The loudspeaker hummed briefly and a voice said, "In thirty seconds
we will enter subspace. All passengers will remain seated until the
changeover is complete."
The voice repeated the message, and Silvia thought frantically, _we'll
be on our way to Arcturus and somewhere along the line the stranger
will kill George!_
She leaped up.
"Sit down," George cried, pushing at her. "We're going into subspace."
"I've got to see somebody," she said, struggling.
"It can wait," George insisted.
She went limp, as she heard the whine of the motors deep down within
the spaceship. "Yes," she said, "yes, I suppose it will." But not too
long. She didn't know when, or even how, but each moment might be
George's last.
She braced herself involuntarily, as the whine rose to the threshold
of inaudibility. A sudden rumbling came. The spaceship shook, the
walls twisting as though grasped by a giant's hand. The room tilted
precariously. A woman screamed.
"Something's gone wrong," George shouted. He grabbed Silvia's hand.
"Attention all passengers," a frantic voice came from the loudspeaker,
"prepare to abandon ship. Put on emergency spacesuits and go to
lifecraft assigned you. There is no immediate cause for alarm. There is
time enough for all to reach safety, if instructions are obeyed. Above
all, remain calm. Calls for help are going out--"
Silvia was dimly aware that George had pulled her spacesuit from the
overhead locker and was trying to stuff her into it. Thank goodness,
she thought, it was like a miracle this happening. Now, neither of them
would go to Arcturus and the stranger's plans would be delayed until
she had time to cancel them.
"I'm okay," she insisted, fumbling with the rest of her suit. "Put
yours on."
"We're going to be killed!" a man shouted near them. He scrambled down
the aisle toward the exit. George hit him, and the man staggered,
looking like a small boy punished for breaking a window. Then he began
sobbing and someone led him away.
The ship shuddered again, and the walls protested with the grating of
metal. Silvia staggered, but her husband's arm shot out to steady her.
A voice from the loudspeaker said, "Attention, all passengers. Prepare
to abandon ship. The following persons will proceed to emergency exit
one. Please be orderly. There is enough time and enough room." He read
off a list of six names.
"I hope we're together," George said. "I--I've changed my mind about
something."
Silvia felt a surge of pleasure. He wasn't going to get the divorce
after all. She didn't stop to analyze her feeling, but she hoped it
wasn't selfish.
"The following passengers," the loudspeaker announced "will go to
emergency exit two."
George listened carefully and at their names said, "That's us." He took
her by the arm. "Better put your helmet in place. There might be a
leak."
She nodded, flipping it over her head the way he did, placing the
faceplate open so she could talk without using the radio. The way he
seemed concerned over her made her feel ashamed she had plotted his
death, and yet at the same time it made her feel glad that they had
come to some silent understanding in time.
* * * * *
He led the way down the aisle and into the corridor that led to exit
two. They passed into the lifecraft, a miniature spaceship, and sat
down to wait. There were four others, three men and one woman. The
pilot came in last, helmet off, and sat at the controls.
"We're leaving the ship now," he warned, and pressed several studs.
Silvia stared at the pilot. "George," she said, gripping her husband's
arm. The pilot was the stranger who was going to kill George!
"We'll be all right," George assured her.
The small lifecraft trembled as its rockets blasted them with sudden
acceleration into space. In seconds they were many miles beyond the
_Arcturus Queen_.
The woman was pale and frightened. One of the men stared through a
porthole. "Look at it back there," he exclaimed. "It looks like it's
going to--"
"Attention all lifecraft pilots," a loudspeaker said. "Rendezvous at
a point within one thousand yards of lifecraft number one. Distress
signals have been sent to the outer planets of Sol and help will arrive
shortly. Follow this beam." The message was repeated and then replaced
by a humming sound.
The pilot switched off the sound.
George said, "Hadn't you--" and then he stopped.
The pilot got up from his seat. There was a gun in his hand. "The
signal won't be necessary," he said calmly. "None of you aboard this
ship will be rescued."
Silvia bit her lip, hesitating. Then she said, "I've changed my mind,
the deal's off."
The man smiled. "A contract is a contract, Mrs. Bennet," he said.
"Besides, we've gone too far now with plans to turn back."