Part 10 (1/2)
”Not yet. We were knifing each other all over the place, back at HQ, but we're both on top now. He'll be good for what ails me. Wait 'till you see him, sister -and hang on to your hat.”
”I'll have no trouble doing that, I'm positive,” Bernice said, a little stiffly; just as Jones came up, again to dance her away.
Percival Train appeared in less than a week. He was, as has been said, a big bruiser. He was just about Leyton's size, and even handsomer. As soon as he got over the shock of discovering what a h.e.l.lish planet Rhenia Four was, he became enthusiastic about its possibilities. He also, Bernice was sure, became enthusiastic about Project Engineer Byrd.
”But there's nothing flagrant about it that I can see, pet,” Jones argued one night, just before going to sleep. ”What makes you think so except Curly's jaw flapping?”
”I just know they are,” Bernice said, darkly. ”She really meant it, and she's the type to. She ought to be ashamed of herself, but she isn't. Not the least little tiny bit.”
”Well, neither of 'em's married, so what's the dif? Even if they are stepping out, which is a moot point, you know.”
”Well... maybe. One good thing about it, she isn't making any pa.s.ses at you, and she'd better not. I'll scratch both her green eyes out if she tries it, the hussy-so help me!”
”Oh, she was just chomping her choppers, sweetheart. Besides, I'm as prejudiced as I am insulated. I've never seen anyone within seven thousands pa.r.s.ecs of being you.”
”You're a darling, Here, and I love you all to pieces. She snuggled up close and closed her eyes; but she did not drop easily, as was her wont, to sleep.
If that red-headed, green-eyed vixen-that s.e.x-flaunting powerhouse-had unlimbered her heavy artillery... but she hadn't... and it was just as well for all concerned, Bernice thought, just before she did go to sleep, that that particular triangular issue had not been joined.
Chapter 11 PSIONTISTS.
Secretary of Labor Deissner was very unhappy. The United Copper Miners, as a union, had been wiped out of existence. Mighty Drivers' all-out effort at New York s.p.a.ceport had been smashed with an ease that was, to Deissner's mind, appalling. Worse, it was inexplicable; and, since no one else really knew anything, either, he was being buffeted, pushed, and pulled in a dozen different directions at once.
The Dutchman, however, was n.o.body's push-over. He merely set his stubborn jaw a little more stubbornly. ”I want facts!” he bellowed, smas.h.i.+ng his open hand down onto the top of his desk. ”I've got to have facts! Until I get facts we can't move-I won't move!”
For weeks, then, and months, ”Dutch” Deissner studied ultra confidential reports and interviewed ultra-secret agents-many of whom were so ultra-ultra-secret as to be entirely unknown to any other member of WestHem's government... and the more he worked the less secure he felt and the more unhappy he became. He was particularly unhappy when, late one night and very secretly, he conferred with a plenipotentiary from EastHem.
”The Nameless One is weary of meaningless replies to his questions,” the Slay said, bruskly. ”I therefore demand with his mouth a plan of action and its date of execution.”
”Demand and be d.a.m.ned,” Deissner said, flatly. ”I will not act until I know what that verdammte Maynard has got up his sleeve. Tell Nameless that.”
”In that case you will come with me now.”
”You talk like a fool. One false move and you and your escort die where you sit. Tell Nameless he does not own me yet and it may very well be he never will. If he wants to talk to me I will arrange a meeting in South Africa.”
”You are rash. Are you fool enough to believe that he will condescend to meet you at any place of your choosing?”
”I don't care whether he does or not. If he knows as much as I do, he will.”
The messenger went away; and, a long time. later, the Nameless One did meet Deissner-with due precautions on each side, of course-in South Africa.
”Don't you know, fool,” the dictator opened up, ”that you will die for this?”
”No. Neither do you. Glance over this list of the real names of some men who have died lately in accidents of various kinds.”
If the Slav's iron control was shaken as he read the long list, it was scarcely perceptible. Deissner went on: ”As long as it was to my advantage I let you think that I was just another one of your puppets, but I'm not. If you insist on committing suicide by jumping in the dark, count me out.”
”In the dark? My information is that...”
”Have you any information as to where those so-huge tanks came from? Where they could possibly have been built?”
”No, but.
”Then whatever information you have is completely useless,” the Dutchman drove relentlessly on. ” Maynard has been ready. What more is he ready for? That thought made me think. How did he get that way? I investigated. Do you know that computers and automation to the amount of hundreds of millions of dollars have been paid for by and delivered to non-existent firms?”
”No, but what...?”
”From that fact I drew the tentative conclusion that MetEnge has industrialized a virgin planet somewhere; one that we know nothing whatever about.”
”Ridiculous! MetEnge builds its own automation but to save time they might... but such a planet would have to be staffed, and that could not be done tracelessly.”
”It was done tracelessly enough so that we did not suspect it. I find that about sixty thousand male graduate engineers and scientists, and about the same number of young and nubile females of the same types, have disappeared from the ninety six planets.”
”So?” This information had little visible effect.
”So those disappearances prove beyond any reasonable doubt that my tentative conclusion is a fact. Maynard is not bluffing; he is ready. Now, if MetEnge has worked that long and hard in complete secrecy it should be clear even to you that you and your missiles are precisely as dangerous to them as a one-week-old kitten would be. Before we can act we must find that planet and bomb it out of existence.”
”It is impossible to hide so many people, especially young...”
”Do you think my agents didn't check? They did, thoroughly, and could find...”
”Bah! Your agents are stupid!”
”They were smart enough to put the arm on your men on that list, and if you think Maynard is stupid you had better think again. The worst fact is that twenty eight of my agents have disappeared, too, all of whom had worked up into good jobs with MetEnge and any one of whom could have and would have built a subs.p.a.ce communicator had it been humanly possible. The situation is bad. Very bad. That is why I have not acted. I will not act until I have enough facts to act on.”
”My agents would have found that planet if it exists. I will send my own men and they will find it if it exists.” ”You think you've got a monopoly on brains?” Deissner sneered. ”Send your men and be d.a.m.ned. You'll learn. Here are copies of everything I have found out,” and he handed The Nameless One a bulging brief-case.
Nameless took it without thanks. ”In three months I will know all about everything and I will act accordingly.” ”You hope. In the meantime you must agree that a general strike is out of the question.”
”Until I investigate, yes. Hara.s.sing tactics merely.” ”Exactly what I am doing. Plan M.”
”As good as any. Your status in my organization will depend upon my findings,” and the Nameless One of EastHem strode out.
The tremendous new stars.h.i.+p, the Explorer, built of leybyrdite and equipped for any foreseeable eventuality, was ready to fly. The Destons and the Joneses were holding their last pre-flight conference. No one had said anything for a couple of minutes; yet no one had suggested that the meeting was over.
”Well, that covers it... I guess...” Deston said, finally. ”Except maybe for one thing that's been niggling at me... but it makes so little sense that I'm afraid to say it out loud. So if any of you can think of anything else we might need, no matter how wild it sounds... I'm playing a hunch. Write it down on a slip of paper and put it face-down on the table... here's mine... it'll be three out of four, I think... read 'em and weep, Bun.”
Bernice turned the four slips over. ”Four out of four. Perce Train and Cecily Byrd. But what in h.e.l.l do we want 'em for?”
”Search me; just a hunch,” Deston said, and: ”Me neither; just intuition.” Barbara nodded her head. ”But why didn't we say anything... oh, I see. You and I didn't, Babe, because we thought Bun wouldn't want her along. Bun didn't because she thought we'd think it was so she could kick her teeth out. Here didn't because Bun might think he wanted her along for monkey business. Right?”
That was right, and Deston called Maynard. ”You can have 'em both and welcome,” was the tyc.o.o.n's surprising reaction to Deston's request. ”They're the two hardest cases I ever tried to handle in my life, and I've got troubles enough without combing them out of my hair every hour on the hour. They did such good jobs on their projects that they haven't got enough to do. I'd like to fire them both-their a.s.sistants are a lot better for their present jobs than they are-but of course I can't. But listen, son. Why lead with your chin? If I can't handle those two d.a.m.ned kittyhawks, how do you expect to?”
”I don't know, chief; I'm just playing a hunch. Thanks a lot, and so-long.”
Percival Train and Cecily Byrd boarded the Explorer together. ”What can you four want of us?” the red-head asked, as soon as the six were seated around a table. ”Particularly, what can you possibly want of me?”