Dimensiion X

by Jerry eBooks

Hayssen mixed himself a tall one from the radio-cabinet liquor cache.

  The butler finally broke the silence.

  “You mentioned an antidote, I believe. I suppose it would be asking too much—”

  Hayssen looked up, amused.

  “It would. You see, there isn’t any. My imagination only got as far as thinking of the poison.”

  The butler sprang to his feet.

  Hayssen waved a pistol at him.

  “This isn’t as neat as the guns you use. It makes a nice, messy hole.” The butler sat down. “And don’t feel too bad about falling for a story like that. You couldn’t afford to take the chance that it wasn’t the truth.”

  He toyed with his drink. “I suppose I should be very British and offer you some but to be frank, I don’t have enough whisky left.” His voice became harsh. “Jonas is just too domestic a name, chum. What do you call yourself?”

  “Smith is good enough.”

  “O.K., Smith. Now suppose you tell me just how you fit in the deal with Flaherty.”

  Smith leaned forward eagerly.

  “Look, Hayssen, I can’t tell you the truth. I would like to, but I honestly can’t. But it isn’t what you think. It’s not a simple matter like a crooked city machine or anything like that. A world is in the balance, Hayssen!”

  There had been somebody else, a long time ago, who had said something like that. Somebody who had wanted to tell him what it was all about but claimed they couldn’t.

  If only he could remember!

  Smith was talking again. “I don’t know what Lehman has told you, Hayssen, but I could puncture his logic for you if you were only normal. But you wouldn’t believe me, now. You’ve been drugged, Hayssen, drugged!”

  Hayssen considered it thoughtfully.

  “Could you prove it?”

  “Certainly. Tell me, have you drunk any water in the last day or so? I thought not. Try it now. You’ll be sick, horribly sick, but it’ll clear the drug out of your system.”

  He could try it. Drinking water wouldn’t hurt any. And there was always the chance, the bare chance, that Smith was right.

  It was odd, he thought. A day ago he would never have doubted Lehman. But now it seemed possible, just possible—His faith in Lehman had gradually been wearing off. Like a drug?

  “O.K., I’ll try it. But you go first.”

  Smith shrugged and preceded Hayssen to the kitchen. Pie ran the tap until the water was cold, then took a glass, filled it, and drank it. Hayssen watched him closely. There was no reaction at all, unless it was satisfaction at quenching one’s thirst.

  Hayssen held a glass under the tap, still keeping his gun trained on Smith.

  The water tasted nice and cool and it came to him with something of a shock how dehydrated he actually felt. Not exactly thirsty, but just dry.

  The reaction was swift.

  He gagged and then vomitted. He managed to watch Smith through watering eyes and keep the gun trained on him but it took effort. Enormous effort. He retched some more and had the hideous feeling of the dry heaves coming on.

  He was empty now, thoroughly empty inside. And he felt very weak. It was hard to think at all. Smith had been partially correct at any rate, or else it was an elaborately planned trick.

  The phone rang.

  Smith turned and walked in front of him back to the living room. Hayssen picked up the phone.

  The voice at the other end of the line was frantic.

  It was the chemist with whom he had left a small portion of the contents of Flaherty’s vial.

  “Hayssen? This is Jim Paul. I’ve been trying to get hold of you for hours. Tell me, do you have any more of that liquid you left here?” Hayssen could feel the excitement in his voice.

  “Why?”

  “I injected one cc of the fluid into a cancerous guinea pig on the verge of death. The pig didn’t die, Hayssen, it didn’t die. It was a complete recovery! Not only that but the pig looks healthy enough to live to a hundred!”

  Hayssen felt sweat soaking into his undershirt.

  “I’ll call you back.”

  He put down the receiver and stared at Smith. Smith Had heard the conversation and had an I-told-you-so expression on his face.

  “O.K., Smith, I’m convinced I was drugged and that Lehman isn’t what he said he was. What’s the whole story?”

  Smith was stubborn. “I’d like to tell you, Hayssen. I mean that sincerely. But I can’t.”

  Hayssen could remember things now, things that still didn’t fit. He walked over to Smith.

  Smith was smiling. “I suppose you’ll let me go now?”

  Hayssen shook his head. “Whatever else Lehman is, he saved me from being killed by you and the others. I suppose I’ll have to see Lehman personally and find out what’s going on for myself.”

  “You going to tie me up then?” Hayssen remembered the pitiful bundle that had been Jock.

  “I don’t think that will be necessary.” Before Smith could move, he brought up the pistol and slugged him on the side of the head.

  He watched Smith crumple to the floor and then got his hat and coat. He would have to hurry.

  He hadn’t forgotten that Cathy Cooper was with Lehman. And that, for some reason, Lehman was a sworn enemy of hers.

  A light was on in Lehman’s office.

  Hayssen ran lightly up the stairs and then stood outside the door for a moment before opening it.

  He could hear Lehman and Catherine Cooper talking together on the inside. Cathy’s voice was firm and controlled, though a quiver of fear ran through it.

  Lehman’s was threatening, brutal.

  He listened and felt himself grow cold inside. They were speaking English, but a twisted, corrupted English that bore very little resemblance to what he spoke. And there was something he hadn’t noticed before. Lehman was talking with the same peculiar accent that Cathy used.

  He turned the knob and walked in.

  Lehman looked up with a surprise that quickly turned to annoyance.

  “What do you want, Hayssen?”

  “I’d like to ask you some questions, Lehman.”

  Lehman assumed an air of tired patience.

  “I’m questioning Miss Cooper right now, Hayssen. Why don’t you wait until morning?”

  “Why don’t you question Miss Cooper in the morning?” Hayssen’s voice was tight. “And what were you questioning her about?”

  “Just asking her co-operation.” Lehman’s voice was smooth and untroubled. He turned to Cathy Cooper. “Wasn’t I, Miss Cooper?”

  Cathy looked up for the first time since Hayssen had come into the room and nodded wearily.

  “Anything else you want to know, Hayssen? If not, I’d suggest you get back to following out your orders in regards to Flaherty.”

  “I think,” Hayssen said slowly, “that I would like the answer to some questions first.”

  Lehman settled back in his chair.

  “O.K., shoot.”

  “First of all, I would like to know, if Flaherty was out to get me after I refused to drop your case, who was it that tried to kill me before? Who was it that tried to kill me the same night after I first saw Flaherty?”

  “You’re mistaken,” Lehman said flatly. “It never happened, Hayssen.”

  It was becoming rather obvious, Hayssen thought.

  “Look, Lehman, I drank some water recently and I got pretty sick. I think that I was drugged.”

  There was hidden fear in Lehman’s eyes.

  “I suppose you think that I tried to kill you. You’re wrong, Hayssen, absolutely wrong. In fact, if you still doubt me, we’ll leave it to an impartial judge.”

  He turned to Cathy Cooper, who had looked up with new hope in her eyes when Hayssen mentioned that he had been drugged.

  “Tell him the truth,” Lehman encouraged. “Did I ever try to kill Mr. Hayssen?” There was laughter in his eyes.

  Cathy shook her head. “No, but—”

  “And isn’t it true that I
rescued him from those who were trying to kill him?”

  “Yes,” desperately, “but that isn’t the whole story!”

  “It’s enough, Miss Cooper.”

  “Wait a minute,” Hayssen said. “Suppose we let Cathy tell us the whole story.”

  Cathy looked like she. was ready to cry. “I can’t, Don. I can’t!”

  Lehman shrugged.

  “You see, Hayssen? She refuses to co-operate. As a thoroughly guilty person would.”

  Hayssen felt his resolve begin to waver. It looked like Lehman was right, that Cathy was involved in some criminal scheme. He swore silently. You’re some guy, Hayssen, he thought. A pretty face and figure come along and somebody could use your brains for pillow stuffing.

  He looked at Cathy and saw something he hadn’t noticed when he first came in. There were faint discolorations around her cheekbones and jaw. He had a pretty good hunch of just what and who had caused them.

  He looked at Lehman and knew he hated him.

  “I’ve got one more question,” he said quietly.

  Lehman looked calmer now but there was still a guarded look in his eyes.

  “All right, Hayssen, ask it. I have nothing to fear.”

  I hate smooth guys, Hayssen thought. Particularly smooth guys who turn out to be right when I don’t, want them to be right.

  He took a breath. In a way it was a silly question, a fantastic one. But it would be still more fantastic to look for a logical explanation. If you had a certain line of reasoning you followed it to the bitter end, no matter how silly it seemed. And coiling wires, slim, modernistic pistols, people who seemed able to disappear at will, and even the peculiar accents made a twisted sort of sense.

  “When are you from?”

  There was a gasp from Cathy and a shocked look on Lehman’s face and he knew he had struck oil. Lehman’s hand darted for a desk drawer.

  Hayssen leaped for the desk and brought his fist down on the hand. Lehman shrieked with pain and twisted away. Hayssen grabbed him by the shoulder and then Lehman doubled up and kneed him.

  They broke and rolled out on the carpet. He hammered at Lehman’s face, trying to break Lehman’s grip around his throat. The room started to blacken and then he had Lehman by the collar and they were on their feet. His fist shot into Lehman’s face. He could feel the splinter of teeth against his knuckles.

  Lehman’s head jerked back and he hit the floor and lay still.

  Hayssen turned to Cathy and swept her into his arms.

  She was nice and soft, he thought, and her hair smelled good. He brushed her lips with his and they clung close together. There were a lot of things that weren’t explained but they could definitely wait.

  After a moment Cathy sighed and wriggled comfortably out of his grasp.

  She looked over his shoulder and her eyes went wide.

  He turned in one movement and dove for the desk. Lehman sat behind it, fiddling with some knobs on what looked like a control board.

  He found the right dial and turned a bloody, triumphant face to Hayssen.

  Hayssen hit the desk and kept right on going through it, beyond it, to end lying on a floor that lay six inches beneath a ghostly carpet.

  Lehman and his desk and office equipment, rugs, wall-hangings, and chairs were like a room within a room. They shimmered and twinkled in a ghostly phosphorescence and slowly faded from sight.

  Hayssen picked himself off a dusty floor and stared around the room, bewildered.

  It was absolutely empty except for he and Cathy.

  “I think you had better explain some things, Cathy. It would help me a lot.”

  She didn’t look up. “We’re not supposed to,” she said in a small voice.

  “Look,” he burst out, “people have tried to murder me about five times in the last week. Somebody kicked my dog around and it wasn’t funny. I’ve checked up on people who seem to appear and disappear whenever they want. And now Lehman does a by-by act right while I’m in the room!”

  He lowered his voice to a lecture tone. “I know some of it. I know a lot of it. I tested the vial that Flaherty bought. It was the real McCoy. Everything that Lehman had told Flaherty about it was true. For all I know, Cathy, maybe Lehman was on the right side.”

  She looked up at him. “You know about the vial then?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s against the Prime Injunction,” she said slowly. “We’re not supposed to tell. We’d be breaking the rules.”

  “What rules?” he prodded gently. She managed to find the nerve to say it.

  “Against the rules of time travel.”

  He caught his breath. He had been right then. A wild, fantastic guess and he had hit the nail on the head.

  “You’re a time traveler from the future?”

  “Yes,” she said proudly. “I’m from the future.”

  He took his arm away. She wasn’t just a frightened girl. She was something else. Something magnificent.

  “Tell me about it,” he asked simply.

  “Your century, Donald, has been visited many times by our people. I suppose that you could call me and the others history students. We go throughout all history and take small jobs and study the different civilizations. When I came back to your time I decided to become a secretary to one of your politicians. I was going to write a thesis on the Twentieth Century.”

  She had said that she had been named after a famous actress, Hayssen thought. But he had never heard of the name. Naturally not. She had been named after a famous actress in her time, an actress who would not be born yet for thousands of years!

  “I suppose we’re actually more j than just students,” Cathy continued. “Call us watchmen in the museum of time who see that none of the exhibits are damaged or stolen. We’re watch-wardens for the past, custodians of history to see that nobody comes back in time and tries to change it.”

  “That’s where Lehman fits in, isn’t it?” he asked hesitantly.

  She nodded. “Lehman is a member of what you would call a political party, but not a legally recognized one. By traveling into the past he sought to change it enough so that his party would be in power in the far future.”

  “He hoped to work it through Flaherty some way, didn’t he?”

  “Yes. If Flaherty lived long enough he would back a certain candidate for senator. This person in turn would become president. A very poor president, Donald. A tyrant. And the past would be altered sufficiently so that Lehman would be our ruler in the future.”

  “At least Flaherty would get a fair shake out of it.” He felt sorry for Flaherty who had had the cure for his cancer right in his own grasp.

  She shook her head. “Even Flaherty would not have benefited from it. You see, the vial of liquid would make a person live a thousand years, our own life span. But Flaherty would have lived just long enough to be useful. Then Lehman would have seen that he met with an accident.”

  Hayssen whistled. “I’m beginning to see. But Flaherty was warned against taking the vial.”

  She laughed. “I called him up and told him that it was poison. We covered Flaherty pretty thoroughly to make sure that Lehman couldn’t get him. We even had a man stationed in Flaherty’s home as a butler.”

  Hayssen thought of Smith, who was probably still out cold in his apartment.

  The next question was a tough one. He could feel Cathy tense, expecting it.

  “If neither Flaherty or Lehman were trying to kill me, who was?”

  The answer came as a shock, even though he half expected it.

  “We were.”

  “I . . . I don’t understand.”

  She turned toward him, pleading.

  “It’s one of the rules of time travel, Donald! We can’t let anybody in the past know that they are being visited by people from the future. We can’t allow the past to be changed, as it would be if people knew we were visiting them. If you change the past, you change the future. You alter the fabric of time!

  “But there’s
more to it than that. Do you think that people in the past would be content if they knew that there was a means of escape to a future that naturally offered a much better life than the age they were living in? Do you think that people would have incentive and ambition, knowing that everything that could be already was? That every machine and invention had already been invented? They would search us out, Donald, and we would no longer be able to travel back in time. And if they got hold of the chrono-machines, the future would be faced with a wave of immigration from the past!”

  “I see,” he said slowly. “And I was dangerous to you.”

  She sighed and her head drooped. “Yes. You were a private detective, assigned to investigate Lehman. An ordinary person looking into Lehman’s past would have been dangerous. A private detective was much worse. And a private detective in possession of Flaherty’s vial of liquid was too dangerous to live. We thought that we could handle Lehman ourselves. But you were an unknown factor. You had to be eliminated.”

  It all fit, he had to admit that. The newsboy and the clerk and the cop on the beat. All “history students” like Cathy was. When word went out that he was investigating Lehman, they had tried to kill him.

  And they had succeeded in killing Jock.

  Cathy read his face.

  “I’m sorry about Jock,” she said. “But if you still want him, we can get him. I don’t think it would alter the future much if one small dog lives instead of dying.

  His face was blank. “But you can’t bring objects back from the dead!”

  She laughed at him.

  “It’s very simple, Donald. Picture time as a highway with small roads that branch off, wander a little, and then come back to the main road. That’s what we can do. Travel back to just before Jock jumped on the mesh-net—the bedspread—and take him with us.”

  Hayssen felt dizzy.

  “Besides, Donald, how do you think that Lehman rescued you once the brick wall had toppled on you? He picked you up just before that.

  “You don’t remember the wall, do you? Of course not. For you, it actually never happened. It’s a small part of the past that was changed. I know. You are about to say, that it is a paradox. But that is only because you are foolish enough to believe that the future is dependent on a lot of little things. It isn’t. History is a tremendous canvas, Donald, and one or two very small brush strokes, if changed, would hardly alter the whole picture.”