by John Creasey
‘Four days,’ the man with the penetrating voice called out.
‘Four days’ echoed like a sigh about the theatre . . .
‘Four days,’ remarked the Master to Joyce and Maddern. ‘Yes. It is reasonable. And it is reasonable that Dr. Palfrey should return to London, to collect the messages. I need to send Azran with a message, too – that any country which decided to defy me would be given no choice to live. It must be all or none. All or none,’ he added and turned away.
When they were alone, Joyce said in a hopeless voice, ‘How I hope you’re right about Sap.’
‘Don’t you know him well enough to be sure?’ asked Maddern.
‘Not now,’ she confessed. ‘As I’ve told you, I think he’s changed very much. Or—I’ve changed.’ She placed her hands in Maddern’s and went on, ‘It’s so strange, I can hardly believe it’s true. Until a few weeks ago I was hopelessly in love with him. I was desperately hurt whenever he left me to come away, hurt that he did not feel the same way towards me as I did towards him. Life was all hurt. I knew that by working for him I was sublimating my love for him – that serving him was a way of living for him. And now I don’t feel like that at all.’
‘How do you feel?’ asked Maddern, gently.
‘Numbed, where Sap is concerned,’ she said. ‘For the first time ever I came to the conclusion that his tactics were wrong over this case, and I—’
She began to cry.
Maddern said gently, ‘Don’t cry, darling. Please don’t cry.’
When she went on crying, he said in great distress, ‘Joyce, don’t upset yourself so. Sap isn’t almighty. It’s no crime to differ with him, and he would be the last to blame you.’
“Would he?’ she whispered.
‘Of course he would.’
‘Reggie,’ she said with an obvious effort, ‘was he right?’
‘About not telling the truth? Yes.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘As far as I can be sure of anything,’ Maddern answered.
‘Oh, God,’ she said. ‘Oh, God. If only there was a way I could make up to him. If only there was a way!’
Maddern put his arms round her and held her very close. Her shoulders, her body, was heaving as she tried to choke back sobs. After a while, he began to frown, and soon he was staring at the back of her head, at the dark hair so lightly touched with grey.
‘Joyce,’ he said slowly.
She muttered, ‘Yes?’
‘Joyce, did you release that Press statement?’
After a long time, she answered in an anguished voice, ‘Yes. I slipped it in with others which had come to the Operations Room for vetting—we were keeping close surveillance on the South-West. I was so sure that it had to be done. And he vacillated so much. I felt as I’ve never felt before against him, that he couldn’t always be right, that he must have made mistakes in the past, and would again. And—this was something which only the women could decide. I believed the women of the world would want to know the truth. But I was wrong. They’ve had more pain and suffering in the past few days than in their whole normal lives. When I told the women of the world that there was a real risk that they would never bear children again there was such anguished weeping everywhere. It was a terrible mistake, and I betrayed Sap.’
‘Joyce,’ Maddern said. ‘Oh, Joyce.’
His hands moved round her and he drew her towards him and comforted her, while down on Earth the women cried, some aloud but most in silence, until woman after woman began to say the same thing, all over the world.
‘I would rather die than have no children.’
‘I would rather die.’
This wail, and it was a wail indeed, grew louder as the hours passed. It reached Palfrey’s ears when he was back in London. He landed in the capsule in Green Park, opposite the Élite Hotel, beneath which was Z5’s headquarters. He heard it as he crossed Piccadilly towards the side street which led to the hotel. He heard it in the lobby of the hotel, from the old as well as the young, and he heard it when he stepped out of the elevator at the Operations Room. For messages were being relayed from all parts of the world – messages of anguish.
Palfrey went along to his own room, acutely aware of the fact that Joyce wasn’t here; it was amazing how much he had come to depend on her, to trust her.
Then he opened the door to his own apartment and saw Azran sitting in his big chair, legs tucked up beneath her, sipping a cool drink. She did not get up when he entered, but smiled brightly at him.
‘I am to wait with you until you have the replies,’ she said. ‘And I have one other instruction from the Master.’
‘Oh, have you?’ asked Palfrey gruffly. ‘What is it?’
‘He wishes you to find out who released the news and so forced this situation so quickly. If he finds out, he will kill the traitor.’
‘I can understand it,’ Palfrey said. ‘I think I would kill him myself, too.’
‘What am I going to do?’ sobbed Joyce. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘Don’t worry,’ Maddern tried to reassure her. ‘It can’t be undone now.’
‘But because of it the world might die,’ Joyce said, and utter despair sounded in her voice. It did not matter what Maddern said, he could not comfort her.
Reports soon came to Palfrey of a tremendous battery of space probing from all over the world, and he had no doubt at all that stupendous efforts were being made by the space nations to find Nega. But so far there was not the slightest hint of success, and he was terrified of what the Master would do if he thought Nega was in danger.
But no one would heed him if he, Palfrey, bade them stop.
The first decision reached Palfrey that evening, from a small African state.
‘We shall submit,’ its government stated.
There was a lull for nearly twenty-four hours before the next reply came from one of the larger but economically poor countries in South America.
‘We submit,’ the leaders said.
They began to come in with much greater frequency from then on, until it looked as if all the world’s nations would have replied within the four days’ grace Palfrey had won for them. And one after another reply was the same. There was no fight in the nations, no hope. This situation was completely beyond control, even beyond their understanding.
At last, came Britain’s reply.
‘We submit, without conditions,’ Hartwall said.
Soon afterwards, came Thailand’s.
‘We are submitting under strong protest.’
Now the replies began to come in thick and fast, until on the evening of the third day only seven nations had not replied. Three were of little account, but four were significant.
These were the United States, the U.S.S.R., China and Japan.
Any one of these was large enough to change the course of events. Each was large enough to attempt to fight the Master without help from any other nation.
No word came from Nega.
Azran followed Palfrey everywhere but interfered with nothing and was oblivious to much that he did.
And Palfrey prepared for his return trip to the satellite, with the help of one Z5 agent, whose job it was to get Palfrey safely on the capsule loaded with high explosives which would pulverise the satellite into particles floating in space.
Chapter Nineteen
THE FOURTH DAY
On the morning of the fourth day, the Republic of China submitted, without conditions but with a lengthy explanation of why they had decided not to resist. Summed up, this showed that at least half the women of China were already affected, and Peking could see no way of existing alone.
At midday, the United States submitted. Palfrey read the laconic note from Washington which came over the computer with Azran at his shoulder. The note rea
d ‘We can see nothing to be gained by standing alone.’
At two o’clock in the afternoon of the fourth day, word came from the Kremlin, terse and final.
‘We submit for the sake of the living.’
Azran read this slowly. Once full understanding dawned she jumped up and down in delight, showing more excitement and emotion than Palfrey had ever seen in her.
‘It is wonderful, Sap! It is over! The Master has won without a great disaster.’
‘It looks like it,’ Palfrey admitted, grudgingly.
‘You cannot believe that such men are lying!’ she cried.
‘I would like to stay here and check,’ Palfrey said, gruffly. They were in his apartment looking out on to simulated sunlight. Azran, at his desk, was slim delight. As he had come to know her he had come to appreciate the perfection of her features and her figure more, but he had not come to admire anything at all about her mind. In some ways she behaved like a child, as indeed she did on this fourth day of the ultimatum. ‘And I would like Joyce Morgan here with me, too.’
‘And Dr. Maddern?’
‘If it is possible,’ Palfrey said.
He did not dream that the Master would agree. He took it for granted that if he made it obvious that he wanted to stay here, then he would be ordered to go to the satellite. He was ready, now, with a plastic compound of extreme destructive power. He could carry it in powdered form, with a mixture of a cyclamate to give it a sweet taste. He had carried some of this about with him in other crises, and he had no doubt of its effectiveness. In a few hours the fourth day would be over and he would have to go back to the satellite, it was as simple as that.
He had no more arrangements to make. His will, with bequests to Joyce and Stefan as well as a few friends, was always in order. He had only a few very distant relatives for his wife Drusilla and their only son had perished in the great drought which had once threatened the future of the world. Most of the personnel at headquarters were comparatively young and new – he was venerated by many of them and he liked most, in turn, but there was a wide age gap, and with Joyce away, the place seemed unfamiliar.
There was tension among the younger married men, and he had no doubt at all of the way they were feeling about the capitulation, but not one had come to him pleading for a chance to fight back. It was as if the staff of Z5 accepted the situation with dogged resignation. Although reports of more affected areas kept coming in, they were all quite objective, and there was none of the usual emotional appeal, ‘What can we do?’
Palfrey told no one what he intended to do.
As the day wore on he became more and more anxious to hear from the Master. If anything happened to prevent him from going back to Nega, then there would be no hope at all.
As that thought went through his mind, Azran came into the big room with its simulated sunlight. He was at the desk. She went across and sat in a huge armchair, one large enough for Stefan Andromovitch to sit in comfort. She loved sitting in this chair, legs tucked under her, eating chocolate mints to which Maddern had introduced her. She sat on her legs, skirt spread out like a fan, beautifully shaped legs slightly sunburned. She glowed with health and with a kind of happiness which was new to her.
‘There are advantages in being a Terrestrial human,’ she remarked simply. ‘There is more pleasure.’ She took a wafer-thin mint from its wrapping. ‘Will you have one?’
Palfrey pushed back his chair and looked at her, and he realised that she was about the age that his son had been when he had died.
‘No thanks,’ he said. ‘Have you heard from the Master?’
‘Yes, Sap! I have just heard. He would like to know how long you will need to stay on Earth? A week? Two weeks?’
My God, thought Palfrey, he’s prepared to let me stay! He felt a surge of panic but concealed it. Everything depended on his going back, with the explosive, quickly. Everything.
He said, ‘At least a week.’
‘He is agreeable on two conditions,’ announced Azran. She finished the mint and picked up another, carefree and at home. ‘First, that you will make room here at Z5 for six Celestial humans and will teach them what happens here. He wishes to make sure that these headquarters will remain in service if anything should happen to you.’
Palfrey mumbled, ‘That’s reasonable enough.’
‘The other is that you and Joyce and Dr. Maddern will stay here until the work is finished—will not go away from these quarters. If you do, he will seek out and kill you,’ she announced simply. ‘But you will stay, won’t you?’
Palfrey’s heart was hammering but he made himself say, ‘Yes.’
‘Then that is all,’ she said, and added with a moue of disappointment, ‘I am sorry only that I shall not be allowed to stay on Earth during this period.’ A glint showed in her eyes. ‘The Master says that I am enjoying the fruits of the Earth too much! But I will come back.’ She slid another mint out of its packet and popped it into her mouth. ‘Joyce and Dr. Maddern will arrive here at one hour after midnight,’ she announced. ‘And I am to return in the capsule which brings them.’
He felt almost as if a cold hand was clutching him, and his expression made her sit upright and exclaim, ‘Sap! Are you all right?’
He gulped. ‘Ah—yes,’ he said. ‘Yes. I’m fine. Fine.’
‘I thought you had what is called here a heart attack,’ she said, relaxing. ‘Celestial humans suffer no such illnesses, physically we are perfect. We do not grow old in the way you do, either. Sap, are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ he repeated more roughly. ‘Yes, of course.’ He stood up. ‘I have to go to the Operations Room. Will you stay here and make some coffee?’
‘Of course,’ Azran promised.
He went out.
He did not go to the Operations Room but walked about the headquarters in a strange agony of mind. He knew what he would have to do, of course. And it would be easy. He would send the explosive with Azran, in one of the chocolate mints she liked so much. Yet he hated to. Celestial human being or not violent or not she was like a child. Now, she trusted him absolutely. So did the Master. It was strange that they were so simple and trusting. They were purified, in the sense that the causes of moral evil had been removed from them. The duplicity, the deviousness, the Machiavellian nature of Terrestrial man, had disappeared with their breeding and with their training. In a way they were as innocent as babes.
As innocent as babes.
He went to the commissary where all kinds of chocolates and sweets could be bought, and then in a laboratory inserted a tiny knife blade, scraped out the mint cream in three of them, and replaced it with the explosive paste.
It would go off when she placed it in her mouth.
He wrestled with his thoughts until it was nearly midnight, then went back and found Azran already drinking coffee, and eating chocolate biscuits from a dish on his desk. Her eyes were glowing, she was enjoying these so much.
‘Is everything still all right?’ she was eager to know.
‘Everything is fine,’ Palfrey assured her painfully.
‘And you will be glad when I come back again?’
‘Oh, very glad,’ he asserted and made himself ask, ‘Will you be glad to see me?’
‘Yes,’ she replied eagerly. ‘I know they have many, many defects but I like Terrestrial human beings. I shall discuss this discovery with the Master, and he will no doubt explain. There is something different, something kind about them. How shall I say it? You have feelings. You have love of other people. In Dr. Maddern it is very noticeable. In Joyce, perhaps, less so. And in everyone I have met, it is true to some degree. Do you know what I mean?’
‘Yes,’ said Palfrey. ‘Indeed I do.’
Less than an hour later, in Green Park not far from the Ritz Hotel and opposite the Élite Hotel built over the headquarters
of Z5, Joyce and Maddern stepped out of a space capsule. Almost immediately Azran moved towards it. As she turned she stood on tiptoe and kissed Palfrey lightly on the cheek.
Then, she stood in the doorway, waving, her small pack of Earth souvenirs and chocolate mints clutched in her other hand.
Then, she disappeared as the doors closed.
Then, the capsule took off, almost without a sound, and Palfrey stared towards the stars until it, too, disappeared.
‘Sap,’ Joyce said, in a hurt voice. ‘What is it?’
‘Nothing,’ Palfrey assured her. ‘I’m just very tense.’
‘Sap, I did believe it was the right thing to do.’
‘I’m sure you did,’ Palfrey muttered. ‘It makes no difference now.’
‘Sap—please, please don’t hate me for releasing the story.’
‘I can’t even blame you at all,’ Palfrey said. ‘I was dreadfully tempted myself. But—’ For the first time in the past five or six hours, he was able to get his mind off Azran. ‘You know you can’t stay with Z5.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘You could never trust me again.’
‘I could trust you,’ Palfrey assured her. ‘But I could never swear to the national authorities that I knew of no disloyalty among the staff of Z5.’ He closed his eyes. ‘I shall miss you very much.’
‘I hope you will,’ she said, with a twisted smile. ‘I shall miss you, Sap, but—’
‘Not so much,’ Palfrey said.
‘In a way, not so much,’ she agreed.
‘Reggie?’
‘We are—we are attracted to each other.’
‘Will you marry?’
‘Yes.’
‘And what will you do?’
‘For a while, travel,’ she answered. ‘And then settle down to helping those who grow old before we do.’ She moved forward and touched Palfrey’s hand very gently. ‘Sap, are you really all right?’