Avon Science Fiction Reader 2

Home > Cook books > Avon Science Fiction Reader 2 > Page 10
Avon Science Fiction Reader 2 Page 10

by Unknown Author


  “May I kiss it?” lie asked in a trembling voice.

  A quizzical smile from Goddard. “Young man, never ask for- a kiss. If you want one, take it.” Broderick lost no time in complying, with fervid lips, to the suggestion of the older man, who continued: “That may not he sound ethics, but it’s good practical common sense. Now see if you can find where that hand joins on to the forearm.”

  In vain Broderick searched for a scar. Not a scratch or blemish could be discover.

  “Here is where I attached her arm,” said the doctor, running his finger over her bare shoulder. I’ll defy you to find a mark of the joint. And you remember what I told you about her lips? Would you suspect that they ever belonged to anyone else?”

  “Never! Oh, that I might kiss those luscious lips!” And, suddenly recalling Goddard’s bit of philosophy concerning osculation, he thrust his arm about her neck and made a sudden effort to kiss her mouth. The doctor stopped him just in time. A crimson flood mantled Eve’s cheeks, to the great delight of Broderick, who thus perceived that she was really human and not merely an animated statue.

  “Take your time, rash youth,” the doctor laughed. “Helen of Troy was not won in five minutes. Eve’s lips are not for you—unless—”

  “Unless?” ‘

  “Unless you agree to certain essential conditions.”

  “Name them.”

  “It is a long story. Eve knows it already, and so will not be interested. You will excuse her while I explain.”

  With supple lithesomeness, she stepped to the door. Broderick’s eyes followed her until the curtains closed behind her.

  Then he turned to Goddard with, “Now for the conditions.”

  “As you doubtless have surmised, I am looking for a mate for Eve, but he must be as perfect as she is. Since I prefer a college bred man, I enlisted the aid of the physical directors of every large university in the United States. Out of over a hundred candidates sent to me, only three have passed the rigid examination to which I personally submitted them. I’ll speak of the other two presently.

  “You’ve been with me now for a week, and my tests have shown that your health, vitality, and your intellect are all excellent. You have no physical defects, except in parts capable of being interchanged.

  “What I wish to do is to reconstruct your body, just as I have done in the case of Eve, and thus transform you into a perfect man. This accomplished, you shall marry Eve, assuming the name of Adam Goddard, Thus I expect to found a new race of perfect beings bearing my name.

  “The other two men I spoke of passed in all but the last crucial test. One of them went so far as to allow me to put him on the operating bench, but lost his nerve with the first whiff of the ether.

  “It is not necessary for you to give your answer today, in fact, I’d rather you would take plenty of time to decide. This is a momentous matter, and is not to be entered into lightly. It will be attended by considerable pain, and some danger, although both these features will be reduced to the minimum. You may see Eve every day if you wish. To-morrow evening at eight-thirty you will be given an opportunity to test some of her mental powers. You’ll be here?”

  “I certainly shall.”

  “In the meantime, take good care of your body. To me, it is worth a million dollars.”

  Imagine, if you can, the emotions which surged through Broderick’s ‘mind as he strode back to his hotel.

  Eve had made a profound impression on him-—had charmed and fascinated him with her incomparable attractiveness. But he was not in love with her, he told himself, any more than he could be in love with a beautiful statue. How could he love a woman with whom he had not even exchanged two words of conversation? One thing, though, he could not escape—she completely dominated his thoughts, to the exclusion of all else, preventing him from sleeping that night or from engaging in any serious occupation the following day. More and more strongly came the realization that, having seen Eve, the society of all other women would, now and forever, seem insipid. Yet his involuntary admiration for her was rudely tempered by two shocking thoughts; one was the domineering influence which her foster-father exercised over her, and the other was the repulsive notion that she was stuck together, like a picture puzzle or a crazy patchwork quilt.

  Repelled as he was by these considerations, they were far outbalanced by the overwhelming force of her many attractive attributes. Three-quarters of an hour before the appointed time, he presented himself at the door of Doctor Goddard’s lordly residence.

  “You’re early,” the doctor greeted him.

  “Am I? Is Eve at home?”

  “Yes. I’ll send your card up to her. She’ll be down in a few minutes. You’re fond of chess, aren’t you, Broderick? I judge so from the fact that you represented Princeton in the last cable tournament with Oxford and Cambridge. I’ve arranged to have you play chess with Eve this evening, if you care to.”

  Broderick suppressed a smile. “Who ever heard of a woman who could play chess?”

  “You will remember questioning the existence of a perfect woman yesterday. As then, I’ll answer—judge for yourself.”

  He drew from a corner a small, beautifully finished table with a chessboard inlaid in squares of ebony and basswood. The pieces were of ivory, exquisitely carved. The doctor began placing them on the board.

  “Let me see, Queen on her color, isn’t it? I haven’t played for such a long while, I’ve almost forgotten. Ah, here comes Eve.”

  Broderick’s eyes were already fixed on the green curtains, as if loath to miss a single instant of delight in her loveliness. They parted and she appeared, bearing fresh causes for wonder and admiration. Now her figure was veiled in the graceful folds of a short-waisted empire gown, which smacked of the middle ages, yet suggested the trim smartness of modern fashion. Her arms and neck were bare. The style of her heavily massed golden tresses reminded him of the helmet of Minerva. She bowed, but did not utter a word, as she sat down in the chair which the doctor placed for her.

  “White to move, and win,” Goddard chuckled; and she immediately responded by leading with her king’s pawn.

  Broderick played an indifferent, listless game, giving more attention to his opponent’s face than to her moves. But suddenly he woke up to find one of his bishops in direct line with an unprotected castle. Without giving the usual careful inspection of the other pieces he swooped down and removed it from its corner. Instantly Eve reached across the board and removed a pawn, putting in its place one of her bishops. Since this placed his king in check, Broderick could do nothing else but take the bishop with his knight. Eve removed the horseman with her queen, which was thus placed in the square next to the king, but protected by a knight.

  “Checkmate!” laughed the doctor.

  “By Jove, so it is. That’s a new one on me. It’s almost the same as the fool’s mate.”

  “A modification of it which Eve invented herself. The rook was just left for bait.”

  “She won’t catch me napping next time.”

  The pieces were replaced, with the whites on Broderick’s side of the board. There was no more careless dawdling after that. He started out with the fierce aggressiveness which had won him fame in college matches, but still kept every piece carefully protected. Eve played a defensive game, anticipating his complex plots with the weird magic of a soothsayer, and foiling them with consummate ingenuity. He realized that he had met an opponent worthy of his skill; and for the moment, his fascinated interest is this unusual game overcame the distracting magnetism of her beauty.

  He gleefully felt that he had the upper hand, however, and came near venting his satisfaction in a vain boast, “Checkmate in three more moves.” Luckily for him, he restrained this ungentlemanly impulse; for Eve, by an unexpected exchange of queens, suddenly broke through his line of attack, and put him on the defensive.

  Broderick fought like a cornered lion, and finally won his way out of a precarious hole, by a series of judicious swaps. He had one piece t
o the good, and he knew that any even exchange was to his benefit. Finally, after over an hour of playing, he found himself with a rook and a knight, while she had only a single pawn to support her king. He moved the castle to a more advantageous position, where, however, it did not bear on her king. With seeming unconcern, she removed her solitary pawn from the protection of her king, placing it directly in the path of the threatening castle. No sooner had Broderick swept the last pawn from the board than Doctor Goddard slapped the table and yelled, “Stalemate. She can’t move, and she’s not in check. The game is a draw.”

  “Well, so it is.” He glanced at Eve. The smile on her face was not one of triumph. He knew by the glitter in her clear blue eyes that she, like himself, was a keen lover of the game, and that she played for the sport and not for the pleasure of winning.

  Goddard snapped open his watch. “Hello, it’s past Eve’s bedtime. She has to keep regular hours, you know. Mr. Broderick will excuse you now, my dear. If he wants revenge, you can give him a chance some other time.

  Without a word, she arose, bowed to the two men and gracefully withdrew.

  “Well,” said Goddard, “what’s the verdict?”

  “She certainly knows how to play chess, or else I’m a dub.”

  “To-morrow, if you wish, you may have an opportunity to test her physical skill. What is your favorite outdoor sport?”

  “I have three favorites—skating, swimming and tennis.”

  “Eve skates and swims unusually well, but tennis will be the best. Shall we say to-morrow afternoon at three?”

  “That suits me all right.” .

  That flight, in the seclusion of his chamber, Broderick was beset by a multitude of unusual ideas and conceptions, some of them felicitous, others distressing. The methodical mind of a chess player he had never expected to find in a woman, and this added another strand to the cord which he felt binding him to her. “A woman who can play chess like that would certainly make a man’s home life attractive. He wouldn’t need to go to the club for recreation.”

  Thus he reflected, showing that he was a true devotee of the ancient game of war.

  But, though her prowess at chess was to him an indication of superior intellectual caliber, yet the mysterious control which her foster-lather seemed to exercise over her suggested mental weakness. Broderick even harbored a suspicion, that Goddard’s own mind had engineered his defeat, and that he had merely used Eve as a human tool for translating his thoughts into acts.

  Fulminated in his brain the realization that he had never heard her speak. Was she deaf and dumb? Surely not deaf, since she responded immediately to suggestions addressed to her.

  At the end of several hours of musing, Broderick was certain of only one thing—he wanted to see her again.

  The tennis match took place at the appointed time on Goddard’s private court. Eve was more delectable than ever, tor she had shed her unnatural air of statuesque antiquity and was a thoroughly modern girl of the great outdoors. She was attired in a short wide skirt of white flannel and a lownecked, short-sleeved middy blouse. Her blond hair was coiled in thick braids around her head.

  Doctor Goddard acted as umpire, calling the score after each point. _ Eve served first. She began by sending a swift twister which fell just inside, the corner of the court, and spun along, hardly an inch above the ground, “Fifteen love,” Goddard called.

  In the other court, Eve served with her left hand, with equal speed but not quite so much English, and Broderick hooked over a neat back-handed Lawford.

  “Fifteen all,” and thus the match progressed, with the honors close to even. Nearly all were deuce games, and hotly contested. Eve played a clever, heady game, putting unusual cuts on the ball, and placing it in out of the way corners. She was constantly shifting her racket from one hand to the other, and seemed equally skilful with either. Broderick depended more upon speed than generalship and won most of his points by vicious chops and tearing smashes.

  At the end of an hour of playing, the score stood at eleven and twelve, with Eve serving. Two beautiful Lawfords and a lucky stroke which sent the ball against the top of the net so that it dropped gently into his opponent’s court, won three successive points for Broderick. Then Eve made a superb burst of unusual speed and brought the score up to deuce. Time after time, he smashed her left-handed serve, but each time- she recovered the point from the other court. At last, with the score at “ ’vantage out,” she served a ball which Broderick had no difficulty in returning. For several minutes, the ball danced back and forth over the net, then Eve drove a pretty Lawford into his back-hand court, immediately following it up to the net. By wonderful footwork, Broderick reached the ball and returned it, but Eve met it at the net and sent it crashing into the opposite court. It bounded fully twenty feet in the air. Broderick dashed back and leaped for the ball, meeting it squarely, but in doing so he crashed into the back-stop, and fell to the ground in a heap.

  His high lob fell but a few feet on the other side of the net, where his opponent was ready to receive it. She could have easily dropped it in the center of the court where he could never have reached it; but instead she struck it underhand, sending a rainbow lob to the back court. It gave Broderick just time enough to regain his feet and send the ball back to her. At the end of thirty more seconds of playing, Eve misjudged one of Broderick’s smashes and sent it into the net.’

  “Game and set. Score thirteen to eleven,” announced the doctor. “Broderick, that was marvelous playing.”

  Broderick leaped the net, grabbed her extended hand, and panted, “Thank you for a wonderful game. You’re the best woman player and the finest all around sport I’ve ever met.”

  She smiled and bowed in acknowledgment of this splendid compliment, but said nothing.

  “Do you want to play any more?” This from the doctor.

  Broderick, who was drenched with perspiration and still puffing, answered, “I’ve hail enough for today.”

  “Yes, that was enough for anyone. I don’t care to have Eve over-exert herself. Now you’d better both hurry back to the house and take your showers.”

  After a refreshing bath and a change of raiment, Broderick joined Goddard in the library.

  “Well, how do you like her tennis playing?”

  “I certainly enjoy playing with her. She’s a clean sport, and refused to take advantage of my accident. After beating her I couldn’t very well say that she is an exceptionally good player, but it’s the first time I’ve “ever played a twenty-four game set.”

  They conversed for some time, then Broderick, with an apparent display of embarrassment, said, “There’s something that’s been worrying me, Doctor, and I’m anxious to know the truth—Is Eve dumb?”

  “Dumb?” Goddard exploded. “I should say—But as usual, you’ll have; to judge for yourself. Come around to-morrow night at eight.”

  When he arrived the following evening, Broderick was ushered into the music room.

  “I’ve arranged a private musicale, or rather recital. Eve will entertain us, if you care to have her do so.”

  “I’d be delighted,” was the trite response.

  “The first number will be a piano solo. Have you any special preferences in music?”

  “I’m very fond of Grieg.”

  “Very well, we’ll have the suite from Peer Gynt.”

  It was arranged with all the formalities of the concert hall. Eve was dressed in a modern decollete gown. She stepped to the grand piano and immediately struck the opening chords of the Morning Mood. The trill of the lark, the ripple of the brook, all were marvelously counterfeited in this superb combination of tones. Then followed the lugubrious strains of the Death of Asefi the weird, oriental cadences of Anitra’s Dance, and last of all the grand climax of thundering chords which culminated in the Hall of the Mountain King.

  “Thank you very much,” was Broderick’s sole comment.

  “Next will be a vocal solo,” the doctor announced. The younger man held h
is breath in blissful expectation. At last he was to hear her voice. He was not disappointed, for her tones were characterized by a rich mellifluence which appealed to his layman’s musical sense far more than those of any professional diva.

  The piece site sang was unfamiliar to him, but was fraught with intricacies in the form of runs and sudden transitions from low to high notes, which displayed unquestionable technical skill. It fascinated him, but not nearly so potently as the exquisite lyrical orchid, “I love you truly,” which she sang as an encore.

  At the close of this selection, Doctor Goddard arose; and, offering a conventional excuse, quietly withdrew. Left alone with the perfect woman, Broderick experienced a singular shyness, which was entirely foreign to his nature, for he was usually quite at east in feminine society. He wanted to pay her a compliment, yet hesitated lest it sound like the adulation of a sycophant. At last he said, “You have a beautiful voice, Miss Goddard.”

  Without a suggestion of conceit or feigned modesty, she answered simply, “I1 ‘m glad you like it. But I know you sing also. Won’t you try this with me?”

  She opened a sheet of music, which was by no means unfamiliar to him. It was a duet in which the woman’s voice and the man’s took alternate parts, finally blending into a united, harmonious appeal:

  “Oh love, stay one moment, oh love, stay one moment;

  One moment of ecstacy, thy heart throbbing on my breast.

  Life’s long dream is o’er, life’s dream is o’er.

  Farewell, farewell.”

  So perfectly did their voices blend that an expert critic would have judged they had practiced together for months. Several other songs they essayed, some complex, some simple; some sentimental, others humorous.

  At last she turned to him with a smile and said, “Pardon my seeming inhospitableness if I remind you that my father is very exacting and insists that I retire promptly at ten. I know you won’t be offended, and I hope we are good enough friends to be perfectly frank with each other. But before you go, I want you to promise to bring your violin with you next time you come.”

 

‹ Prev