Ten From Infinity

by Paul W. Fairman

  8

  Brent Taber stood in front of the desk of Authority and said, "Mr.Porter, I don't think you people realize the gravity of this situation."

  Porter's eyes were frosty. "And just what gives you that idea?"

  "The fact that I'm being hamstrung at every turn. Men I assigned tosearch out the last android have been taken off the job, transferredaway from me without notice."

  "You speak of being _hamstrung_." Porter pronounced the term with aninflection of disgust, as though it were a vulgarism no gentleman woulduse. "You say we do not realize the gravity of the situation. Perhaps werealize it far more than you do. It may be that your activities havebeen indirectly curtailed because you have not recognized the vital needof harmony in government."

  "Are you telling me Crane's ego is still smarting?"

  "_Senator_ Crane did, in the spirit of co-operation, mention certainleaks in your department."

  "What in hell are you talking about?"

  "I'd watch my tone if I were you, Taber. You aren't talking to one ofyour legmen now!"

  Taber's teeth came tight together. "I'm sorry. Let me repeat thequestion. Exactly what was the nature of the leak to which the Senatorreferred?"

  "A tape--transcribed at one of your top-secret meetings."

  Taber's fist closed and opened. "I guess maybe I have been lax," he saidsoftly.

  Porter, grimly happy to have made his point, went on. "As to policy upabove, I'll be quite frank. We have not necessarily gone along with yourtheory that the so-called androids were from outer space."

  "Then where do you think they originated?"

  "We have put data into the calculators on that point. So far, theresults have been inconclusive."

  "That's too bad."

  "Your sarcasm is uncalled for. I am quite willing to tell you, however,that we have been proceeding in the matter. You are aware, no doubt, ofthe recent space shot that ended disastrously?"

  "Who isn't?"

  Still insistent upon treating Taber like a backward child, Porter said,"The missile was safely launched and made five orbits and then suffereddestruction."

  "There was a lot of newspaper copy written on the failure; a lot ofquestions asked as to the cause."

  "The releases were entirely true," Porter said with prim severity."There was malfunction of crucial units under stress. But another phasewas not made public. The astronaut's mission--one of them, at least--wasto hunt outer space for foreign bodies of any description."

  "What did he report?"

  "Nothing."

  "I recall a story printed by some Washington columnist that some of thecode picked up from the missile was not translated for the press. This,he stated, in view of the Administration's current 'Open End' policy onsuch matters, was strange."

  "If you're implying that we censored certain information, that's quitetrue. In the public interest."

  "To keep scientific information out of Russian hands?"

  "In this case, no. The astronaut fell victim to a psychological stressthat was unforeseen. What he sent made no sense whatever. We blame themedical men for not finding the flaw in his psyche."

  "And I would be entirely out of line in assuming he did discover hostileforeign bodies and was destroyed by them?"

  "Entirely," Porter snapped.

  Brent Taber's eyes were stony. "But I _am_ to assume that you're askingfor my resignation."

  Now Porter shrugged. "If that is the way you see it, I can, of course,only tender my regrets."

  "Well, you won't have to. I'm not resigning."

  The sharp declaration made Porter blink. "It's rather unusual that aman, after a vote of no confidence--"

  "To hell with that. If a tape got out of my office, it's my fault. I'llgrant that. But there's more to this. I'm willing to bet the man whotold you was the same one who engineered the steal."

  "That's ridiculous! Are you accusing Senator Crane of--?"

  "I'm accusing an opportunist-demagogue of playing fast and loose withnational safety to further his own ends and salve his ego. I'm accusingthe men above me of being too weak-kneed to back their own againstoutside interference."

  "I'll stand for no insults from you, Taber!"

  "You'll take it and like it," Brent Taber said savagely. "You'll take itbecause you can't knock me out of my office overnight. It will taketime. You've got to go up through the command and you'll have to gopretty high before you'll find anyone who'll do it with the stroke of apen. Nobody wants to stick their neck out."

  "Of course," Porter replied icily, "if you care to keep functioning as adiscredited person--"

  "I can. And I will. I'd be a coward if I didn't."

  Porter was obviously disappointed but he shrugged. "That's yourprivilege. You, of course, will not be taken off the payroll."

  "The payroll be damned. Send my checks to the Red Cross!"

  And Brent Taber strode out of Porter's office, a man who stood alone inthe Washington jungle of clashing ambitions, of purposes andcross-purposes--but a man who had no thought of quitting.

  After Brent left, Porter put through a call to Senator Crane's office.

  " ... so, while severing Brent Taber from official activity would berather difficult, Senator, I have, in the interests of efficiency,withdrawn most of his facilities."

  "A wise move, Porter. A very wise move."

  "By the way, Senator, that hydroelectric project on the Panamint Riveryour Conservation people have in the works. I'm quite interested in it."

  "Is that so?" Crane asked guardedly.

  "Yes. Perhaps because of my experience along those lines in SouthAmerica. I consider it a great opportunity to serve and I understand theadministrator's post is still open."

  Porter's tone was vague. "Yes. I believe it is."

  "Of course, I'm quite happy where I am, you understand. I'm not lookingfor a change. However, the challenge does intrigue me."

  "I'll give you a ring, Porter. Just sit tight until you hear from me."

  After hanging up, Porter sat back and wondered. He tried to analyze thetone in which Crane had made the promise to call. It had been falselycordial, beyond a doubt. Maybe Crane figured Taber's scalp was too smalla price to pay for the hydroelectric plum. Well, in that case, Porterphilosophized, he hadn't lost a great deal. It was all in the game.

  * * * * *

  Frank Corson was confused and troubled by the changes that continued tocome over Rhoda Kane. He could not quite put his finger on the start ofit, but as he saw her now, a scant two weeks after the incident of theman with two hearts, he could clearly see the changes. Where she hadbeen a beautiful, poised, self-controlled woman, she was now morenervous and quick of movement, brighter of eye, full of a new restlessenergy he could not account for.

  Also, the dominance in their affair had shifted. He had always, itseemed, been the dominant factor, in that Rhoda had continually cateredto his moods and bent to the winds of his own unrest anddissatisfaction.

  But one evening when he was free of duty at Park Hill, Rhoda came homeand entered the apartment without glancing toward the double-width sofaby the window. Frank, stretched out with a drink in his hand, watchedher as she took her key out of the lock and put it back in her purse. Hewas struck by the fact that with this new "personality" that had becomea part of her, she was even more attractive than before. A glow had beenadded. The quiet, dignified, statuesque beauty of before had beenmysteriously vitalized by a new kind of inner life.

  She turned from the door and, looking into the bright glare of theeight-foot windows, she saw him on the sofa and took a quick stepforward.

  "Oh," she cried. "It's you!"

  "Of course, it's me."

  Rhoda stopped dead and Frank was sure that the look of eagerness died assuddenly as it had been born.

  "Well, good lord! Whom were you expecting?"

  Rhoda laughed. "You just surprised me, that's all."

  "Well, you gave me the keys to your apartment. Wasn't I suppose
d to usethem?"

  "Of course, silly." She came across the room and sat down on the sofabeside him. She bent down and kissed him.

  "Golly," he said, sarcastically enthusiastic, "that was about asstimulating as a meeting between two dead fish."

  "Frank! For heaven's sake! What's got into you lately?"

  "I think that question should be reversed. 'What's got into _you_?"

  "I think you're being unreasonable."

  "Am I? Is it unreasonable to wonder why you did a complete about-face?"

  "I don't understand."

  "You understand. I've brought it up before. You spent weeks convincingme I ought to carry through with my internship and establish a practice.You said the time element didn't make any difference to you. You talkedme out of the silly idea I had about cashing in on the man with twohearts. I admitted it was a silly idea. I turned away from itcompletely. Then you did the world's fastest about-face and began askingquestions. You began pushing me in the direction you'd been arguingagainst."

  Rhoda refused to match his serious mood. She ran a playful hand throughhis hair. "A woman has a right to change her mind, hasn't she?"

  "Oh, stop it, Rhoda. You're avoiding the issue."

  "All right. I still maintain I have a right to change my mind, but inmaking it all seem completely unnatural you neglected to mention _why_you changed yours. Because a man named Brent Taber slapped your wristlike a little boy and scared you. It wasn't my influence that turned youaround and started you walking the other way. It was a _big_ man fromWashington who said naughty, naughty and suddenly you were a nice littleintern again, afraid to ask questions."

  "It was more dangerous than you know, Rhoda."

  "Oh, I'm sure it was. Do you want another drink?"

  "No." Frank looked out the window and scowled. "Rhoda, there wassomething I didn't tell you about that affair."

  "Was there? I'll bet you told Brent Taber, though."

  "It was what brought Brent Taber into it. There was a murder in myroom."

  "And when Brent Taber came on the scene--" Rhoda stopped and stared downat him. "What did you say?"

  "A man was killed in my room. The man with the broken leg. He didn'tjust go on his way, as I told you; he got his throat cut in my room."

  Rhoda continued to stare. "And you didn't tell me about it."

  "Brent Taber told me to keep my mouth shut."

  "I suppose if Brent Taber had said, 'I don't want you to see that womanagain,' you wouldn't even have dropped around to say good-bye."

  "Rhoda--you're being unreasonable."

  "Unreasonable to expect the man who says he loves me to confide in me?"

  "All right. I was wrong. What happened is this: When William Matson wasready to leave Park Hill, he had no place to go, so I took him down tomy room. I went back to the hospital and Les King contacted me. He saidWilliam Matson was really a man named Sam Baker who'd disappeared fromhis home in upstate New York ten years ago. We went down to see him andfound him sitting in a chair with his throat cut."

  "You've been involved in a murder and you didn't say a single, solitaryword--"

  "Rhoda! I said I was sorry."

  "I didn't see anything about it in the papers. I'm sure it wasn't on anyof the newscasts."

  "Of course, it wasn't. The police didn't even question me. I called thepolice and they came--two prowl-car men. Then they told Les and me towait. We waited, and after a while this Brent Taber came in. He told usto go home and keep our mouths shut. Later, we were called downtown andTaber talked to us."

  "He told you to go home," Rhoda said sarcastically. "You also said theman was killed in your room. Just where is your home, Mr. Corson?"

  "I came here, Rhoda. I spent that night here."

  "With a possible murder charge hanging over your head, you came here anddidn't say a word!"

  Frank sprang up from the couch and turned, scowling. "Goddamn it! Don'tyou believe me? Do you think I'm lying?"

  "I don't know what to believe. I just feel--betrayed. But something elseis more important."

  "What?"

  "You acted like a child. Just because some man appeared out of nowhere,you said _Yes, sir_ and _No, sir_ and _Sorry, sir_ and walked away.Frank! I'm ashamed of you!"

  In quick anger, his hand came back as though to slap her. But he droppedit to his side and strode across the room and picked up his jacket.

  "And so now you're walking out again. You just can't face up toanything, can you, Doctor Corson."

  He turned on her, his eyes blazing. "All right. Maybe everything you sayis true. Maybe I've seesawed and acted like a kid. If I have, it'sbecause of you. The thing in the Village had nothing to do with mechanging my mind about going into research. I did it because I thoughtyou wanted me to."

  Now Rhoda was on her feet, too, her patrician nostrils flaring. "Well,don't do me any favors."

  "From now on, I wouldn't dream of it."

  As he pulled on his jacket, Rhoda sat down on the sofa and lit acigarette. "I'm convinced that if you'd gone along with Les King youwould have been on the right road. King wasn't frightened off by a manwho said he represented the government. He saw a chance to make somemoney and is probably going ahead with it right now."

  "I don't give a damn what Les King is doing!"

  "Of course not. But there's another little thing you overlooked. Don'tyou suppose this Brent Taber will toss that murder right back into yourlap if it suits his purpose? The body was in your room. You're probablythe chief suspect. So you sit back and let Brent Taber play whatevergame he's got in mind. And if it goes wrong, Frank Corson gets picked upfor murder."

  "It can't possibly happen that way."

  "Why not? Who is Brent Taber, really?"

  "I told you--a government man."

  "What government? Where can you get in touch with him?"

  "I don't know. He gave me a phone number in case I ever saw a certainman again."

  "What man?"

  "Rhoda! They aren't men at all. They're androids!"

  Rhoda froze and stared at him in consternation. "You actually _believe_that fairy tale? Frank, I just don't understand you."

  "I told you about it before."

  "But for the life of me I didn't think you took it seriously."

  "I just didn't care. I'd had it. I wanted out."

  "But you're involved in it, up to your neck, and if you had any gutsyou'd face Taber and make him tell you _all_ the facts--and what'sbehind them."

  "I have no intention of calling him."

  "I guess that's the rock we split on then," Rhoda said coldly. Shecouldn't understand herself, even while she knew, deep down, that shewanted more information for _him_--John Dennis. Any other reason orexcuse she used was a sham, a self-delusion.

  If she expected a protest, she didn't get it. Rhoda took a long, calmdrag on her cigarette. She ground it into the ash tray. She raised hereyes and looked levelly at Frank.

  "Very well," he said, finally, "It was nice knowing you."

  "Shut the door quietly on the way out," she retorted.

  He stared at her, his face revealing nothing. He turned, went to thedoor, and opened it. He looked back. She had not moved. He left withouta word.

  Rhoda Kane lit another cigarette. She stared out across the East Riverat the expensive view that went with her high-rent apartment. She got upand went to the liquor cabinet and made herself a drink.

  She was back on the sofa when a key turned in the lock. The door opened.Frank Corson came in, walked to her and stood looking down at her. Therewas misery in his face, a beaten look in his eyes.

  "You knew I couldn't do it."

  "Couldn't do what, sweet?"

  "Walk out on you. I'm in love with you, goddamn it. If I stayed awaytonight, I'd be back tomorrow."

  Rhoda set her glass down and held out her arms. "Darling," shewhispered. "You wouldn't have had to. I'd have been down in the Villageafter you."

  He kissed her hungrily and she pressed her hand against the back
of hishead, holding his mouth tight to hers. His hand slipped inside herblouse. She laid her own hand on it and held it firm.

  "It's for your own good, darling, that I want you to contact this Taberand demand what you're entitled to. You have a right to know. If youdon't find out, there might be a policeman at your door, any minute ofthe day or night."

  "I'll call him."

  "And if he tells you it's none of your business, stand up to him."

  "I will."

  She allowed his hand to go on with its exploring now. His finger touchedher nipple, played with it. She closed her eyes as his mouth againsought hers. "Darling ..." she murmured.

  But she was speaking to a man who had come from nowhere and hadidentified himself only as John Dennis. She had no number at which tocall him. She could only wait until he returned again, if he ever did.

  She thought: _Oh, God, John Dennis. Why do you turn away from me? Whydid you strip me naked and look at me as though I were a statue? Willyou come back again? Please come back and make love to me._

  She felt Frank Corson unsnapping her brassiere. She closed her eyes andlay back and waited, and for all the effect he had on her, Frank Corsoncould have been a statue.

  At the last moment she insisted, "Remember, Frank, you've got to findout _everything_!"