E C Tubb, page 9
“You’re wrong, “ insisted Jay desperately. “No one would be so immoral as to cheat like that. “
“You think not?” George shrugged. “I’m an old man, Jay, and to the old life becomes a precious thing. To you death is something utterly remote, even though you know full well that one day someone will eliminate you as you tried to eliminate me. But when you get older you sense things. You have more time for thought and you begin to realize all the things that you’ve missed in life. You want to hang on, Jay. You want to cling to life as a newly-wed wants to cling to his bride, or as a mother to her first-born. You can’t be logical then. You can’t evaluate and accept what must be. No. You want to live-and you’d do anything for a few extra years of existence. “
“Gregson is old, “ said Jay thoughtfully. “I hadn’t realized it before. “
“Gregson is afraid of death, “ said George. “I know that. “ He took another step forward and touched Jay on the arm. “What are you going to do, Jay?”
“I don’t know. I’ve orders and you know what they are -but if what you say is true... “
“It’s true. “
“Then you must see the Captain. “
“How?” George shrugged with unusual cynicism. “I’ve already tried to get a private interview with the Captain. My request was refused. To try again I must pass my request through the psych-police. I’m supposed to be dead. If I make the application then Gregson will set his dogs on me again. “ He looked at Jay. “Can you suggest something?”
“I don’t know, “ said Jay miserably. “Obviously you’ll have to hide until a chance comes for you to see the Captain. If Gregson ever finds out I’ve failed to eliminate you, he’ll order my own death for inefficiency, so in order to cover up, I’ll have to fake your accidental death. “ He bit his lips in indecision. “You could hide out in No-Weight. I can smuggle you past the guard, but the accident... “
“How did you intend explaining my death?”
“Simple. I was going to kill you and then dash your head against a stanchion. The official verdict would have been that you had misjudged your speed and distance and crushed your skull on landing. “ Jay shrugged. “That idea’s no good now. Merrill will investigate and, unless your ‘body’ is unrecognizable, he will guess at what I’ve done. “ Jay held out his hand. “Give me your identity disc and shorts. “
“Why? What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know yet, but I’ll think of something. “ Jay snapped his fingers with impatience. “Hurry. “
Reluctantly, George stripped off his blue shorts and struggled to remove the stamped metal identity tag from his wrist. He swore as he scraped skin from his knuckles, but he finally managed to get it off. He handed it to Jay.
“Now what?”
“Now you hide in No-Weight. I’ll try to smuggle you up some food and water but don’t worry if I don’t come for a while. You won’t stay there long, anyway. The quicker I can arrange an interview with the Captain the better. “
Silently Jay led the way along the winding tube, drifting lightly from stanchion to stanchion, pausing just long enough to impel himself in a new direction, twisting his body with expert ease to cushion the shock of landing with his knees and thighs. Finally he paused at a sunken panel.
“This is an emergency entry into No-Weight. It’s kept locked from this side and I’ll have to fasten it behind you. “ Jay spun a wheel and jerked the metal slab open. “Right, George. In you go. Try to stay close to the panel if you can. When I bring you supplies I don’t want to have to waste a lot of time. “
“I understand. “ George stepped towards the opening and peered into the dark interior. He shivered a little. “It’s cold in there. “
“The converters are colder, “ snapped Jay impatiently. “Hurry. “
George nodded and stepped through the opening into the vast cavern of No-Weight. He caught hold of the edge of the door and looked at Jay, his head a pale blob against the darkness behind him.
“What about Susan?”
“Susan will believe that you are dead. “ Jay glanced uneasily down the corridor. “To her, as to everyone, you will have met with an unfortunate accident. “ He softened as he swung shut the door. “I’m sorry, George, but there’s nothing else I can do. “
“No, “ said George slowly. “I suppose not. “ He hesitated. “Still, I’d have liked to say goodbye. Funny, that... no one ever thinks of it until it’s too late to do anything about it. “ He removed his hand from the edge of the opening. “Take care of her, Jay. And thank you. “
Jay didn’t answer. He was already spinning shut the locking wheel.
CHAPTER TEN
MERRILL WAS afraid of the Captain. He stood before the wide desk, acutely conscious of the old man’s scrutiny, and tried to assume an arrogance and recklessness he did not feel. Quentin smiled a little as he saw it, the tolerant, almost amused smiled of conscious superiority, but he did not speak, just stared and allowed Merrill to feel the mounting tension. It was one of the oldest psychological tricks known, so old that it always worked. Merrill spoke first.
“You sent for me, sir, “
“Are you ambitious?”
“I... “ Merrill blinked at the unexpectedness of the question, then, as he recovered, his eyes grew wary. “Yes, sir. I suppose that I am. Every man likes to do the best he can for the welfare of the Ship and.... “
“You like to control men, “ interrupted Quentin and his voice held a subtle contempt at Merrill’s protestations. “You enjoy the feel of power, the knowledge that you, even in a small part, control destiny. “ He leaned a little forward over the desk. “Tell me, do you like to kill?”
“I am efficient. “
“Then you enjoy what you do. “ Quentin smiled and relaxed against the back of his chair. “Don’t bother to lie to me, Merrill. I know more about you than you know yourself. You may know what you do and think that knowledge is sufficient. But I know why you do what you do, and that knowledge makes me your master. “ He let his thin voice fade into silence and his eyes grew bleak and distant. “Remember that, Merrill. Always remember it. I am your master. The moment you forget that-you die. “ There was no passion in the thin tones, no arrogance or self-convincing blustering. It was a cold statement of fact and, hearing it, Merrill swallowed.
“Yes, sir. I understand. “
“Good. “ Quentin smiled for the first time. “Now to business. I have sent for you because, though you may not know it, I have studied you for several years now and have decided that you are the man I need. Men grow old, Merrill, and you know what happens to them when age piles its weight of invisible years on their heads. Some men accept their fate, others... “
“Gregson, “ said Merrill, and stiffened in sudden fear. Quentin smiled.
“I knew that you were intelligent, “ he said softly. “But try not to be too intelligent. “ He leaned forward again, his elbows on the desk, his thin fingers caressing his throat. “We need mention no names and we need leap to no assumptions. I want a tool, nothing more, and a tool must be willing to obey without question or hesitation the dictates of its user. A time will come, maybe soon, maybe not so soon, when a job will have to be done. A man will have reached the end of his allotted span and, knowing that man, he may not be willing to yield his life and position. In such a case a tool must be used, a dumb, willing, obedient tool. “ The old man looked at Merrill. “You understand?”
“I do. “
“Men are ambitious, “ said Quentin, speaking more to himself than to the man standing opposite him. “Sometimes ambition can be dangerous, not only to them, but to those around them. Promises could be made and glittering prizes offered if... But there is only one man aboard the Ship who can really offer anything other than empty dreams. I am that man. Do as I say and you will have what you have won. Disobey me and... “ He shrugged and looked directly at Merrill. “A wise man has many tools and relies on none. I trust that I have made myself clear?”
“Perfectly. “ Merrill tried not to smile at the prospects before him. “When?”
“I will tell you when. Until then you will obey your orders, say nothing, think nothing, and, above all, do nothing. “ Quentin rose in dismissal. “You may go. “
He watched the young man stride from the room, his departing back radiating his arrogance and anticipation of what was to come and, watching him, Quentin felt pity for his blindness. Merrill was a killer, nothing more, and his usefulness ended there.
But he didn’t know that.
From the bridge, Merrill was conducted down a hidden passageway towards his own sector, and he walked the droning corridors with his mind full of what he had just heard. The old man wanted him to stand ready to eliminate Gregson. That was obvious, and equally obvious was the fact that he would take over as chief of psych-police. Merrill smiled as he thought about it. The job itself was worth having with its attached privileges of private rooms, a seat on the Council, and literal life and death power over every man and woman in the Ship. But it meant more than that. Once in power Merrill intended to stay there and, knowing what he knew of the system the Captain apparently used, he would make certain that no one ever took over his job.
Two could play at the game of assassination.
He was still living in a world of his imagination when he felt a hand on his arm and turned to stare at the sullen features of Sam Aldway.
“What do you want?”
“I want to talk with you. “ Sam glanced over his shoulder. “Let’s go somewhere private. “
Merrill hesitated for a moment, then led the way to a common rec-room. Closing the door behind them, he tripped the “engaged” signal and glared at Aldway.
“Well?”
“I took him into the arena, “ muttered Sam. “You know who I mean. “
“So he agreed to fight?” Merrill smiled. “Good. I never thought that he would. You killed him, of course. “
“No. “
“No?”
“I didn’t kill him-in fact he almost killed me. “ Sam fingered his bruised throat. “Even now I don’t know just what he did. I had him, another minute and he’d have been ready for the converters, and then the lights went out and the next thing I knew the attendant was standing over me. “ He winced as he touched the transparent plastic over his eye and lip. “You should have told me that he was up on all the tricks. Hell! I thought that he was just a neo. “
“Would I have trained you in that case?” Merrill stared at the man with undisguised contempt. “So you failed. For all your boasting you let a first-timer beat you up and make a fool out of you. “ He shrugged. “Well, you’ve had your chance. “
“Wait a minute!” Sam grabbed at Merrill’s arm as he stepped towards the door, then yelped as a stiffened hand slashed at the inside of his elbow.
“Keep your paws off me. “ Merrill glared at the hydroponics worker as if he could have killed him. “How dare you touch me!”
“I’m sorry. “ Sam massaged his tingling arm.
“What about that job you promised me?”
“I promised you nothing. I merely told you that I couldn’t have two assistants at the same time, but even that doesn’t matter now. You’ve had your chance and failed. I’ve no time or patience with failures. “ Merrill stepped towards the door and stood, his hand on the latch, looking at the other man.
“Forget it, Aldway. Stay at your job and keep out of trouble. I can’t help you now. “
“Wait!” Sam stared desperately at the cold face of the officer. “I can try again. “
“He’ll never let you get him into the stadium a second time. Even if you did, he would beat you just as he did before, and this time he might kill you in order to get rid of a nuisance. “ Merrill lifted the latch. “Sorry, Sam, better take my advice and forget it. “
“I can’t. “ Sam looked ill as he thought about it. “I can’t spend the rest of my life tending those damn plants. I won’t do it. “ He stepped forward, his eyes appealing. “Look, supposing he dies. Never mind how, but supposing he does. Would I get his job?”
“Maybe. “ Merrill pretended to think about it. “Unless of course, you were arrested for murder and sent to the converters. “
“Ill take that chance, “ said Sam eagerly. “Well?”
“If he dies, “ said Merrill slowly, “I’ll be needing a new assistant. “ He opened the door. “It’s up to you, Sam. It’s all up to you. “ The door closed behind him and Sam smiled.
It wasn’t a nice smile.
He sat in the room for a while, his mind busy with unaccustomed thoughts. To kill was easy, or so he had always thought, but to get away with it was the important thing. The alternative was the converters or, if he took Merrill’s advice, a lifetime of menial labor in the farm. Thinking about it made him feel sick and, as he blamed Jay for his position, he began to hate where before he had only been contemptuous. By the time he left the room he was boiling with rage and almost frenzied in his desire to kill the man who stood between him and his ambition.
A couple passed him as he entered the corridor, both fully mature, the woman wearing the dull beige of the kitchens and the man the gray of waste reclamation. The woman stared at him and moved towards the vacated room.
The man glanced at Sam’s passion-distorted features and laughed before following the woman into the rec-room.
Sam paused, his hands knotting at his sides, fighting the desire to hammer on the door until it opened and then to smash the laughing face into pulp. He tried to control himself. There would be time enough for vengeance later, more time than he would need, and the training which Merrill would give him would make victory all the easier. But first he had a job to do.
He went looking for Jay.
He found him in one of the passages leading down from the upper levels and, cursing the people thronging the crowded corridor, began to stalk his victim like the blood-crazed beast he was. Instinctively he took care that he should not be seen and, with an effort of will, managed to control his features so that to a casual watcher he would appear to be intent on his own business. His experience in the arena had taught him that the young man was dangerous, too dangerous for fair fight, and as he followed the figure in the red shorts, Sam began running over the tricks Merrill had taught him.
Jay was totally unaware of the man behind him. He had his own worries and, as he turned from the busy passage into a quieter, more deserted region, he began to regret having helped George escape to No-Weight. It had been easy to talk of plans but carrying them out was something else. He frowned as he touched the folded blue shorts beneath his own red ones and his eyes, as he walked along, were never still. He had to find a man to take Curtway’s place. Had, in effect, to murder an innocent stranger so that someone could snatch a few more weeks of life. At first he had viewed the scheme with cold detachment but, as time passed, he felt a growing reluctance to do what was necessary.
Operating under orders from P. P. headquarters was one thing, but acting as a free-lance was something quite different. In the first case he had no responsibility, no feeling of guilt or shame and he could take a quiet pride in an effective elimination as a job done efficiently and well. But now? He gritted his teeth as he tried to overcome his indoctrination and select a body with which to stage the “accident. “
He paused before the door of Curtway’s cubicle, saw by the external sign that it was empty, and walked inside. It would be better to have the body discovered in its own quarters; it would help identification for one thing, and for another it gave him time to set the stage for the “accident” which must almost completely destroy the body. In all the Ship, the only way to do that was by electrocution, and grimly Jay squatted down beside a masking plate and began to undo the fastenings.
He barely heard the soft whisper of feet behind him as Sam lunged to the attack.
He half-turned just in time to avoid the full impact of the blow intended to snap his vertebrae but even then the side of his neck went numb and darkness flooded his vision. Desperately he staggered to his feet, automatically twisting to avoid the knee thrust at his groin, and tasted blood as fingers stabbed at his throat. Again the searing, nerve-paralyzing blows tore at his consciousness, sapping his strength and dimming his reflexes, so that he reeled helplessly against the metal wall, the hard surface bruising his cheek.
He could have died then, would have died if Sam had remained cool, but science yielded to frenzied instinct and Sam forgot what he had been taught. Instead of standing back and hitting with calculated precision, he tried to hit too often and too fast. He slashed at barely seen targets, stabbed at spots not quite as vulnerable as others, beat with savage but stupid energy at bone and muscle. He caused pain, the sickening pain of torn muscle and jarred nerve but, because of that very pain, he defeated his own ends.
Jay, spurred by his pain, shook off his numbness and fought back.
He was smooth and deliberate, the expert against the amateur, the professional assassin against the would-be murderer. Sam never stood a chance and when it was all over, Jay was still only half-aware of what he had done. He leaned against the wall, mechanically massaging his tormented neck; then, as he stared at the dead man at his feet, he smiled for the first time since receiving his assignment.
The door was closed and the signal which would prevent anyone from violating the advertised privacy was in place. Quickly Jay stripped the brown shorts from the dead man and exchanged them for the blue ones he had taken from Curtway. The identity disc was a harder job, and he sweated as he dragged it from the limp wrist and replaced it with the other. That done, he stooped over the masking plate and removed it from the wall, standing it against the bench before returning to peer into the revealed cavity.
Wires ran thick and heavy behind the metal of the wall. The triple circuits of the Ship, some for power, others for light, still others for the emergency illumination never used and now only assumed to be in existence. Jay frowned at them, wondering which would be the best for his purpose; then, as he remembered another, similar case, shrugged and dragged the dead body towards the opening.
