Complete Short Fiction (Jerry eBooks)

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Complete Short Fiction (Jerry eBooks) Page 260

by James H. Schmitz

“The Tang stuff?”

  “Yes. It’s in that round sort of suitcase he had standing beside his chair.”

  The Commissioner swore.

  “Come along!” he said. “We’ll take my car and head for the spaceport. The police weren’t sure from exactly where that newscast was coming but if they catch up with Mantelish before he leaves they’ll wait for us and we’ll ride in to his lab with him.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “They’ll call the car. Then we’ll go to the lab and wait for him to show up.”

  ALMOST as soon as he’d bid the charming little newscaster goodbye, Professor Mantelish himself began to feel some qualms about the revelations he’d allowed to escape. He began to realize he might have been a trifle indiscreet. Walking on with the crowds moving towards the spaceport exit hall, he found himself growing acutely conscious of the Tang drug container in the suitcase he carried. Normally preoccupied with a variety of matters of compelling scientific interest, it was almost impossible for him to conceive of himself as being in personal danger. Nevertheless, now that his attention was turned on the situation he had created it became clear that many people who had watched the newscast might feel tempted to bring the drug into their possession, either for selfish reasons or out of perhaps excessive zeal for private research . . .

  The average citizen at this point might have started looking around for the nearest police officer. Professor Mantelish, however, was of independent nature; such a solution simply did not occur to him. He had advertised the fact that he was headed for his laboratory. That had been a mistake. Therefore he would not go there—which should foil anyone who was presently entertaining illegal notions about the Tang drug. Instead, he would take himself and the drug immediately to a little seaside hideout he maintained which was known only to his closest associates. Once there he could take steps to have the drug safeguarded.

  Satisfied with this decision Mantelish lengthened his stride. About a hundred yards ahead was the entry to an automatic aircar rental station. As he came up half a dozen people turned into it in a group, obviously harmless citizens. Mantelish followed them in, moved over to the walljust inside the entry, turned and stood waiting, prepared, if required, to swing the weighted suitcase he held under his flowing robe like an oversized club. But half a minute passed and no one else came in. Satisfied, he hurried after the little group, catching up with them just as they reached the line of waiting cars and climbed into a car together, laughing and joking. Mantelish got into the car behind them, deposited a five-credit piece. The cars began to move forwards, rose toward the exit. He glanced back to make sure again that no one was following, placed the Tang container on the floorboards beside him, snapped the car’s canopy shut and put his hands on the controls.

  The aircars emerged from the fifteenth floor of the spaceport exit building, the lights of Ceyce glittering under its night-screen before them. Mantelish turned immediately to the left, directed the car up to one of the main traffic lines, moved along it for a minute, then shifted abruptly to one of the upper high-speed lanes.

  HE REACHED his hideaway a scant fifteen minutes later. It was in a residential shore area, featuring quiet and privacy. The house overlooked a shallow, sheltered ocean bay, was built on sloping ground thirty feet above tide level. It was a pleasant place, fit for an elderly retired man of remarkable habits. None of Mantelish’s neighbors knew him by name or suspected he maintained a laboratory within his walls—an installation in absolute violation of the local zoning regulations.

  He locked the entry door behind him, crossed a hall, opened the door to the laboratory. He stood motionless a moment, looking around. Everything was as he had left it months before, kept spotlessly clean by automatic maintenance machinery. He went over to a table on which lay a variety of items, the results of projects he had hastily completed or left incompleted before setting-out on the expedition to the Tang world. He put the Tang container on the table between a chemical gun and a packaged device which, according to the instructions attached to it, was a mental accelerator with a ratio of two hundred and eighty to one, instantly lethal if used under conditions other than those specified in the instructions. He looked about once more, went out by another door to the kitchen of the house.

  A minute or two later, he heard the laboratory Com Web buzzing shrilly. Mantelish glanced around from the elaborate open-face sandwiches he was preparing. He frowned. Among the very few people who knew the number of that ComWeb, only two were at all likely to be calling him at this moment. One was Commissioner Tate, the other was Trigger Argee. If either of them—Trigger, in particular—had caught the newscast at the spaceport just now they were going to give him hell.

  His frown deepened. Should he ignore the call? No, he decided; however unnecessarily, the caller was no doubt concerned about his safety. He must let them know he was all right.

  Mantelish lumbered hurriedly back into the laboratory, came to a sudden stop just beyond the door. There were two men there. One was seated at the table where he had put down the Tang container; the other leaned against the wall beside the hall door. Both held guns, which at the moment were pointed at him.

  Mantelish looked from one to the other, lifting his eyebrows. This, he told himself, was a most unfortunate situation. He knew the pair from a previous meeting, the conclusion of which had been marked by a certain amount of physical violence. He didn’t like the look of the guns but perhaps he could bluff it out.

  “Fiam,” he said with stern dignity to the man at the table, “I am not at all pleased by your intrusion. I thought I had made it clear to you last year when I threw you out of my laboratory that there was no possibility of our doing business. If I failed, I shall make the point very clear indeed immediately after I have answered this call!”

  He turned toward the clamoring Com Web. Suddenly he felt an excruciating pain in his left leg, centered on the kneecap. He grunted, stopped.

  “That’s enough for now, Welk,” Paes Fiam said lazily from the table. “He’s got the idea . . .”

  The pain faded away. The man standing by the door grinned and lowered his gun. Fiam went on, “Sit down over there, professor—across from me. Forget the ComWeb. This shouldn’t take long. These guns of ours, as you’ve noticed, can be very painful. They can also kill very quickly. So let’s not have any unpleasantness.”

  Mantelish scowled at him but sat down. “Why have you come here?” he demanded.

  Fiam smiled. “To ask you for a small favor. And a little information.” He picked up the chemical gun lying on the table beside the Tang container, looked at it a moment. “This device,” he said, “appears to be something you’ve developed.”

  “It is,” Mantelish said.

  “What’s so remarkable about it?”

  Mantelish snorted. “It kills the intended victim immediately on spray contact while placing the user in no danger whatsoever, even when carelessly handled.”

  “So the label says,” Paes Fiam agreed. “A one to four foot range. Very interesting!” He laid the gun back on the table. “I find it a little strange, professor, that a man holding the high ethical principles you outlined to me in our previous conversation should devote his time to creating such a murderous little weapon!”

  Mantelish snorted again. “What I am willing to create depends on the clients with whom I am dealing. I would not place such weapons in the hands of common crooks like yourselves.”

  The Com Web’s noise stopped. Fiam smiled briefly, said, “Not common crooks, Professor Mantelish. We happen to be exceptionally talented and efficient crooks. As the present situation demonstrates.”

  “What do you mean?” Mantelish asked coldly.

  “I happened to be at the Ceyce spaceport,” Fiam said, “while you were bragging about your Tang immortality drug on the newscast. I took steps immediately to make sure I knew where you went. Welk and I followed you here without very much trouble. We made sure in the process that nobody else was tailing you.” He patted the
Tang container. “This is what we’re after, professor! And we’ve got it.”

  “You are being very foolish,” Mantelish said. “As I indicated during the newscast, it remains questionable whether the Tang drug can be produced under laboratory conditions. If it is possible, it will involve years of research.at the highest level. I—”

  “Hold it, professor!” Fiam raised his hand, nodded at Welk. “Your statements are very interesting, but let’s make sure you’re not attempting to mislead us.”

  “Mislead you?” Mantelish rumbled indignantly.

  “You might, you know. But Welk will now place the pickup of a lie detector at your feet. Sit very still while he’s doing it—you know I can’t miss at this range.” Fiam brought a small instrument out of his pocket, placed it on the table before him. “This is the detector’s indicator,” he went on. “A very dependable device, every time it shows me you’re being less than truthful you’ll get an admonishing jolt from Welk’s gun. Welk’s never really forgiven, you for not opening the lab door before you ejected him last year. Better stick to the truth, professor!”

  “I have no intention of lying,” Mantelish said with dignity.

  Paes Fiam waited until Welk had positioned the pickup and stepped back, went on. “Now, professor, you were suggesting that at present the Tang drug has no commercial value . . .”

  Mantelish nodded. “Exactly! The quantity on the table here—and it’s every drop of the drug to be found off the Tang world now—is not nearly enough to be worth the risk you’d be taking in stealing and trying to market it. It might extend the life of one human being by a very considerable extent, and that is all. And what potential client would take your word for it that it would do that—or that it wouldn’t, for that matter, harm him instead, perhaps kill him within a few months?”

  “A large number of potential clients would, if they were desperate enough for life,” Fiam said, watching the detector indicator. “You were skirting the fringes of deception with that question, professor. But that’s not the point. Does the drug have harmful physical or mental effects?”

  Mantelish said, “A calculated quantity was given to six members of our expedition, including myself. During the past four months, no harmful physical or mental effects have been observed, and the overall effect has worn off again. That’s all I can say.”

  “And the Tang drug did have a rejuvenating effect on these human subjects?”

  Mantelish hesitated, admitted, “A slight but measurable one. That was in accordance with our expectations.”

  Fiam smiled. “I see. What other expectations did you have in connection with the use of the drug on human beings?”

  Mantelish said reluctantly, “That the dosage given human subjects would wear out of the system in about four months—as it did. And that if the rejuvenation effect were to continue the treatment would therefore have to be repeated regularly at four-month intervals.”

  “What do you believe will happen if that is done?”

  “Within a ten-year period,” Mantelish said, “the subject should find that his biological age has not advanced but has been reduced by about five years. The Tang rejuvenation process is a slow, steady one. The Tang themselves select the biological age they prefer, and remain within a few years of it by a judicious use of the drug. It is, of course, impossible to reduce the biological age beyond late adolescence.”

  “I understand,” Fiam said. “And how is the drug administered?”

  “The Tang drink the extract,” Mantelish said. “On human beings it has a violently nauseating effect when administered in that form. We found it more practical to administer a subcutaneous injection.”

  “There’s nothing essentially different between that and any other subcutaneous injection?”

  “No, none at all.”

  Paes Fiam patted the container again, smiled, said, “The drug extract in here is ready to be used exactly as it is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are there any special measures’ required to preserve its usefulness and harmlessness indefinitely?”

  “It’s self-preserving,” Mantelish said. “There should be no significant difference in its properties whether it’s used today or after a century. But as I have pointed out, I cannot and will not say that it is harmless. A test on six subjects is by no means definitive. The seventh one might show very undesirable physical reactions. Or undesirable reactions might develop in the six who have been tested five, or ten, or fifteen years from now . . .”

  “No doubt,” Fiam said. He smacked his lips lightly. “Be careful how you answer my next question. You said the drug in this container should extend the life of one human being very considerably. What does that mean in standard years?”

  Mantelish hesitated, said grudgingly, “My estimate would be about three hundred years. That is an approximation.”

  Fiam grinned happily at Welk. “Three hundred years, eh? That’s good enough for us, professor! As you may have begun to surmise, we’re the clients for whom the drug is intended. We have no intention of trying to sell it. And we’ll take a chance on undesirable reactions showing up in five or ten years against the probability of another hundred and fifty years of interesting and profitable living!”

  He stood up, moved back from the table. “Now then, you’ve got the equipment to administer a subcutaneous injection somewhere around the lab. You’ll get it out while I keep this gun on you. You’ll show Welk exactly what you’re doing, describe the exact amount of drug that is required for each injection. And you’ll do all that while you’re within range of the lie detector. So don’t make any mistakes at this stage or, believe me, you’ll get hurt abominably!

  “Finally, you’ll give me the initial four-month injection. I shall then give Welk an identical injection under your supervision. After that, we’ll just wrap up the container with the rest of the drug and be on our way . . .”

  TEN minutes later Mantelish sat at the table, gloomily watching Fiam store the container, along with several other of the finished products on the table which had caught his fancy, into the suitcase. Welk stood behind the professor’s chair, gun pointed at Mantelish’s neck.

  “Now let me give you the rest of the story on this, professor,” Fiam said. He picked up Mantelish’s chemical gun, looked at it and placed it on top of the suitcase. “You’ve mentioned several times that I can’t expect to get away with this. Let me reassure you on the point.

  “For one thing, we set up a temporal scrambler in this room as soon as we came in. It’s on one of those shelves over there. It will remain there and continue in action for thirty minutes after we’ve left, so no one will be able to restructure the events of the past few hours and identify us in that way. We’re wearing plastiskin gloves, of course, and we haven’t made any foolish mistakes to give investigators other leads to who might have been here. “Also we enjoy—under other names—an excellent reputation on this planet as legitimate businessmen from Evalee. Should foul play be suspected, we, even if somebody should think of us, certainly will not be suspected of being involved in it. As a matter of fact”—Fiam checked his watch—“twenty minutes from now, we shall be attending a gay social function in Ceyce to which we have been invited. As far as anybody could prove, we’ll have spent all evening there.”

  He smiled at Mantelish. “One more thing; you will be found dead of course; but there will be some question about the exact manner in which you died. We shall leave an interesting little mystery behind us. The Tang container will be missing. But why is it missing? Did you discover, or fancy you had discovered, some gruesome reaction to the drug in yourself, and drop it out over the sea so no one else would be endangered by it? Did you then perhaps commit suicide in preference to waiting around for the inevitable end?”

  “Suicide—pfah!” growled Mantelish. “No one is lunatic enough to commit suicide with a pain-stimulant gun!”

  “Quite right,” Fiam agreed. He took up the professor’s chemical gun from the suitcase again. “I�
��ve been studying this little device of yours. It functions in a quite simple and obvious manner. This sets the triggering mechanism—correct? It is now ready to fire.” He pointed the gun at Mantelish, added, “Stand aside, Welk.”

  Welk moved swiftly four feet to one side. Mantelish’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t—”

  “But I would,” Fiam said. And as the professor started up with a furious bellow, he pulled the trigger.

  Mantelish’s body went rigid, his face contorting into a grisly grin. He thumped sideways down on the table, rolled off it on the side away from Fiam, went crashing down to the floor.

  “Ugh!” Welk said, staring down in fascinating incredulity. “His whole face has turned blue!”

  “Is he dead?” Fiam inquired, peering over the table.

  “I never saw anyone look deader! Or bluer!” Welk reported shakenly.

  “Well, don’t touch him! The stuff might hit you even through the gloves.” Fiam came around the table, laid the gun gingerly on the floor, said, “Shove it over by his hand with something. Then we’ll get ourselves lost . . .”

  The ComWeb was shrilling again as they went out into the hall, closed the door behind them. After it stopped the laboratory and the rest of Mantelish’s house was quiet as a tomb.

  “IT’S A miracle,” Trigger said, “that you’re still alive!” She looked pale under her tan. The professor had lost the bright ceruleantint Welk had commented on by the time she and Commissioner Tate came rushing into the house a minute or two ago. The skin of his face was now a nasty green through which patches of his normal weathered-brick complexion were just beginning to show.

  “No miracle at all, my dear,” Mantelish said coolly. “Paes Fiam has encountered the kind of misfortune the uninformed layman may expect when he ventures to challenge the scientist on his own ground. He had lost the game, literally, at the moment he stepped into this laboratory! I had half a dozen means at my disposal here to foil his criminal plans. Since I was also in the laboratory at the time, most of them might have been harmful—or at least extremely disagreeable—to me. So as soon as I saw he intended to use the chemical gun, I decided to employ that method to rid myself of his presence.”

 

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