The man at the Incoming Call desk looked worried. ‘I’m afraid those kids may not be able to handle this much trouble.’
Estelle put dinner on a table set for two, and then seated herself opposite her husband. While he ate, she barely nibbled at what was on her plate. Finally: ‘You’ll be glad to know,’ she said, ‘that I laid in a week’s supply of your favorite foodstuffs, and three cartons of cigarettes.’
The handsome, determined man who sat across the glittering dining room table from her, paused in his eating. He sat for a long moment, knife and fork poised. ‘Say that again,’ he said. His brows were knit.
‘I anticipated,’ said his wife, ‘and stocked up this morning with seven days of the things you like to eat.’ She stopped, and corrected herself. ‘That is, the things you used to like to eat, as I dimly recall them from a decade ago.’
Lane now put the fork and knife deliberately down into his plate, and stared at his wife. ‘For a normally brilliant conversationalist,’ he said, ‘that set of statements leaves me gasping - I won’t say with total admiration.’
“You mean, you don’t know?’ Her eyes were bright. She almost breathed the words.
‘Know what?’ Lane was beginning to lose his short temper. He sounded exasperated.
‘You must have been faced,’ she said. ‘They wouldn’t have done it without facing you first.’
It was the unexpected remark. The possibility that her dialogue could be related to the outfits, had literally not occurred to him. The surprise of it brought a reaction. His face suddenly felt hot, and he realised with horror that a blush of shame undoubtedly suffused his cheeks.
‘You’ve become brick-red,’ remorselessly said the woman, who sat opposite him. ‘That justifies me in making a shrewd guess. It happened last night just before that outburst of supersanity. Am I right?’
The man hesitated. An outright lie was almost impossible for him. So at this point he made his first admission. ‘There was some gang of kids waiting outside.’ He spoke the words with exactly the right casual indifference. ‘I paid no attention to what they were jabbering at me. Are you implying that what you’re talking about is related to that?’
'You were faced,’ she said. ‘And so you’ll be on a restricted diet as soon as our current food supply runs out. And no more cigarettes.’
‘I’ll drink your coffee as a subsitute,’ her husband said with an effort at facetiousness, ‘for the cigarettes.’
‘No more coffee either/ was the reply. ‘It’s considered unhealthy.
Lane stroked his jaw. It was a stereotype of his whenever he straggled with rage. And he was struggling now. ‘Are you telling me,’ he said finally in a dangerous tone, ‘that the food outlets of Spaceport co-operate with the outfits in a system of deprivation- of-food blackmail?’
‘It’s not exactly deprivation,’ Estelle explained carefully. ^You’re allowed a logical diet for men of your category. Your type normally die of heart attacks or strokes. Most such persons lack the willpower to eat right and stop smoking. The outfits put you on essential vitamins, minerals, and proteins. You’re liable to lose a little weight. And meals don’t taste as good, but you probably live longer.’
The man was momentarily bemused. His anger receded before a memory. ‘So that’s what that fellow, Mijnalen, was talking about today.’ His eyes pointed off to one side, thoughtfully. ‘I’ll be damned.’ He nodded grimly. ‘Okay. So I’m on bread and water. What happens to you and Susan?’
‘We can eat in restaurants, but we probably won’t.’ She studied him with suddenly narrowed gaze. ‘I can see some scheme is forming in your mind. Your eyes have changed, and have that cunning look in them.’
‘For heaven’s sake, Estelle!’ Lane exploded. He stopped, and sat there in visibly total frustration. Yet he v/as finally able to say, ‘I’m considering how I can deal with a criminal conspiracy without removing my attention from more important matters. Not right now, but it seems to me that later on we could buy our groceries outside of Spaceport, and bring them in.’
She shook her head, eyes bright. ‘They would be confiscated at the port of Entry.’
‘You’re not serious?’ He was actually astounded.
‘Outfits are official,’ the blonde woman said. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. But nobody can talk to John Lane about anything he’s made up his mind on.’
The man scarcely heard her last words. He was thinking again, and he said with a shrug, ‘It’s simple. Once or twice a week, I take a trip outside, and eat a decent meal in a restaurant.’ He stared at her belligerently. ‘Don’t tell me that’s forbidden too?’ His wife sighed. ‘Once you’re listed,’ she said, ‘you have to have a legitimate reason for going outside Spaceport.’ Seeing the incipient thunder on his face, she ventured, ‘As the senior,fleet commander, you can probably assign yourself reasons for going outside that no one will question.’ She broke off. ‘Though to tell you the truth, I can’t quite visualise you, an honest man, putting out a series of false mission orders for yourself.’
The realisation of that was also in the man’s face. He said gruffly, ‘I could probably do it for a good cause.’
The rest of the meal was eaten in relative silence. The woman mostly stared at the wall a few feet behind her husband’s head. The man gazed rigidly down at his plate. Once, when he looked up, there was an expression on his wife’s face that was suspiciously similar to a smile. It vanished when she caught his gaze on her.
But near the end of the dinner, there it was again. And this time, when she saw that he was staring at her with disapproval, she suddenly started to laugh. She was still laughing hysterically when the man put his knife and fork down. A minute later, her laughter was wilder - and uncontrollable. The man’s irritation- reaction transformed abruptly to anxiety. He jumped to his feet, and hurried around the table; and drew her body against his. Held her there, and squeezed the muscles that she could not control.
That did it. She grew calm, and sagged against him, exhausted.
Yet, when she could speak, she said in a muffled voice, ‘The old booter has got his comeuppance - that’s what suddenly seemed so funny.’
Lane found his voice. ‘So now you can see how ridiculous the whole business is.’
From the region of his upper chest came the same muffled voice: ‘I can’t help feeling that they got the right man- Sorry, darling, but that’s my truth.’
The man released himself from her, and stepped back. ‘I’d better sleep in the spare room again tonight. Evidently, I don’t have a wife right now in any real meaning of the term,’ He spoke grimly.
The woman’s blue eyes had mist in them, and the grief was back in her voice as she said, ‘I gather that a good little wife should stand by and watch her daughter destroyed - is that your view of the loyal little woman?’
Lane threw up his hands. ‘You’re to much for me,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Everything is coming to a crisis, and I feel exhausted. I’m sure I could use a little extra sleep.’
He turned, and walked rapidly to the door that led to the magnificently furnished living room, and so across to the hallway and the spare bedroom. A distant door closed.
A depressed Estelle-began to stack the dishes in the dishwasher when the phone rang. It was Lee David. ‘I’m sorry, Lee,’ said the woman, ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen. She seemed more cheerful today.’
At his end, sitting in the living room of his mother’s apartment, Lee wanted to know if Susan would be at school the next day. When he received a negative reply, he said, ‘Tell her that the way out of even a false situation is to be a good outfitter. WiU you do that?’
‘I’ll tell her,’ said Susan’s mother in a lackluster voice.
Lee replaced the receiver, and then phoned Mike. The phone rang in Mike’s deserted room, and simultaneously on an instrument on Mike's wrist, where he stood with three other boys near the Jaeger home talking to Mrs Jaeger,
Mike p
ressed the button, and held the tiny phone extension up to his mouth. ‘Mike Sutter,’ he said. ‘Lee,’ was the reply, clear and loud. Mike said, ‘Lee, Mrs Jaeger has come out, and we’re explaining the rules to her about people moving out of the city. I’ve told her that Bud has to be free to go to school tomorrow, and that we’ll be here at seven thirty to check him out. She’s promised to tell all this to her husband, and to help us in every way that she can,’
Lee said, “Well, I think that’s all we need to do this evening. So you and the others can go home. Sack?’-
‘Sack,’ said Mike.
‘Has there been any violence?’
‘No. She says Bud isn’t resisting.’
‘Sack,’ said Lee. His call had been designed to put the authority of the outfit leader behind what the jabbers on the scene were doing. And it had now achieved that purpose.
Lee hung up. And Mike pressed the button again, disconnect-" ing. He stood, then, and explained in his friendliest voice to the woman what Lee had said. He finished, ‘Now, Mrs Jaeger, we believe you are Bud’s friend as well as his mother. So, if anything goes wrong before tomorrow morning, will you phone either Lee David or Mike Sutter?’
The woman nodded. Her expression was strained. ‘It’s going to be difficult,’ she said, ‘but he did let me come out to talk to you. And I’ll argue with him.’ There was a hint of color in her cheeks. The stress of the situation had lifted her bodily, in a manner of speaking, out of her apathy. She finished, and there was determination in her voice, ‘I sure won’t let him hurt that boy.’
Mike said, ‘Sack.’
The four boys stood watching as the drably dressed woman turned, and walked to the gate, then up to the door, and inside. After the door closed, they stood for at least another five minutes. At the end of that time, there was still no sign of anything unusual in the house.
Mike accordingly said, ‘Lee says we can go home. On your way, jabbers.’
The four separated. One boy crossed the street. Another went the same direction on the sidewalk they were on. Mike and Albert walked side by side to the nearest corner in the other direction. At the comer, Mike turned right, and Albert left.
In the Jaeger master bedroom, the woman had finished her account of her interview with the Red Cats. Len Jaeger, listening, lay sprawled on his back on the bed. He was fully clothed. His narrowed eyes stared in the general direction of the juncture of ceiling and wall across the room. His jaws were clamped in a stubborn rejection of what his wife had said.
‘Nothin’ doin’,’ he growled. ‘Those kids nearly killed me.’ He spoke the lie without blinking, and with no hesitation. ‘But I’m not going to knuckle under to any bunch of gangsters, young or old. The moving company can’t move us'for two days, but I’m takin’ the attitude that we’re movin’ tomorrow. So that’s the way it is. And I’ve got a little old shotgun in there’ - he shifted his gaze for the first time, and nodded toward the clothes closet to his right - 'that says it’s gonna happen my way.’
Mrs Jaeger said pleadingly, ‘It’s only for two more days, Len. Why don’t you just turn your attention away from the whole problem. If you have any feeling left for me, you won’t cause this trouble. Remember, your hard way drove Bud from us once before. And it changed him. He’s not the same.’
Her husband interrupted her. ‘Yeah,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘Found it wasn’t that simple out there in the world, eh? Needed the old man to help out. Okay, the price of my help is a disciplined, obedient life. The day he’s old enough to look after himself, then he can do what he wants. But he’s gonna grow up right, without any nonsense in his head.’ As he finished speaking those words, he saw that the woman was parting her lips to speak. Jaeger cut her off, with a bellow, ‘I don’t want to hear no more! That’s enough of that!’
Shortly after 6 a.m. the following morning, Susan, fully dressed, tiptoed out of her bedroom and went into the den, closing the door behind her. In a moment, she was at the phone, push-buttoning a number. There was a sound in the receiver of a distant phone ringing.
In the appartment of Peter Sennes and his friend, both men awakened to the sound of the phone ringing. Sennes was the drowsier, and so it was the younger man who answered. ‘Hello?’ Pause, then: ‘Just a moment.’ He put one hand over the mouthpiece, and with the other made the gesture to Sennes, indicating that the call was for him. ‘It’s your jabber... Susan.'
The captain sat up, went through a rapid waking-up wriggling, and then took the receiver. By this time, there was a cynical smile on his face. ‘Hello, there,’ he said.
Susan sat in her father’s favorite drinking chair, and crouched cautiously over the phone, as if by shielding it with her body she would keep the sound of her voice from carrying. ‘Peter,’ she said in a low, secretive voice, ‘will you marry me?’
The officer was awake by now, totally in control, matter-of- fact, friendly. ‘Hey!’ he said. ‘Not so fast. What’s up?’
Even an affectionate resistance was almost too much for the girl. ‘I asked you a civil question/ she said in a trembling voice. ‘Yes or no?’
‘Can we talk about it?’ said Sennes. ‘Say, why don’t you come to the field and have breakfast with me? You know I have to take my routine test flight today.’
‘I know/ was the tense reply, ‘and I want you to take me with you. We can be married by the minister on Tombaugh. It’s done all the time.’
The whole thing was a little swift even for an experienced cot-6 161 philanderer. And Sennes hesitated. After a few moments, he must have realised his delay in replying could have a devastating effect. He said hastily, ‘Reason I’m a little slow on that is I’ve already got a passenger lined up for today. But’ - his face cleared, as the decision took place - ‘why don’t you come along, also? No real problem. Is that all right, my dear?’
‘I guess so.’ For a moment she was uncertain. Then she swallowed, and said earnestly, ‘It’s got to be right away, Peter. We’ve got to be married right away. Today.’
‘I’ll meet you at the Subsurface at the takeoff hangar - same place as last Sunday,’ said a relieved Sennes, ‘in about’ - he glanced at his watch, and raised his eyebrows as he saw the time; grimaced - ‘in about forty minutes’
‘I’ll be there,’ said Susan.
The man heard the disconnecting click at the other end of the line. As he replaced his own receiver, he made the familiar victory gesture with forefinger and thumb shaped into a circle. He said, ‘My little jabber wants to discuss marriage.’ .
The younger man shook his head with reluctant admiration. ‘And no one can discuss marriage like you can.’
Sennes was heading for the bathroom. ‘I’ve got to make a rapid exit, so don’t slow me down with too much praise.’
In the den of the Lane house, Susan was hastily writing a note, which read:
Dear Mother and Dad:
By the time you read this I will be Mrs Peter Sennes. I’m sorry it had to be this way, but it’s all for the best. Wish me luck.
Your loving daughter, Susan.
She laid the letter on the bar, went softly to the den door, and by a combination of tiptoeing and careful opening and closing of the outside door, was presently hurrying up the street to the Subsurface. Moments later, she entered the elevator. The door closed, and the indicator showed that the machine was heading down.
By 7.30 a.m., the Red Cat outfit - girls as well as boys - along with an adult witness, were gathered outside the Jaeger home. Sharply on the half-hour, the witness, a middle-aged man named Gregory Bonge, walked up to the door, and rang the doorbell. There was a long pause. Then a man’s rough voice sounded from inside: 'You tell those kids they’d better get away from this house. Bud isn’t coming out, and they’re not coming in. I’ve got some shells here with salt pork in them in a loaded shotgun to back me up.’
The witness returned to the outfit, and reported the threat. He finished: ‘Jabbers, this looks a rough case. In view of all the circumstances - if t
he Jaegers actually leave Spaceport two days from now - I recommend you withdraw from this situation. I further advise that we inform the military police, end await their instructions.’
Before Lee could speak, anger flashed into Mike’s face. He burst forth passionately. ‘We’re not going to let this booter get away with this, are we?’
Everybody’s face was instantly tense. Yet, as Lee glanced questioningly from face to face, there was no doubt. They were in agreement. Mike’s words had expressed the consensus. No surrender.
‘But, still, that guy is not sane,’ said one of the boys. ‘So I think we should call Outfit Central for the cover wagon.’
'That’s what we’ll do,’ said Lee. “Unless Bud asks for help.’ There was no word from Bud. No sound at all from the Jaeger house. In about eight minutes what looked like a panel truck came along the street, and stopped across the road. It happened that Lee was standing on the sidewalk near by. And now, quite casually, he walked past the truck and was briefly lost to view of the outfit - and of anyone in the Jaeger house. During that period, one of the two police officers in the truck opened a sliding door on the sidewalk side. Opened it a tiny slit, and said, “Start your approach. We’ll cover you.’
‘Sack, Henry,’ said the boy.
Lee thereupon walked past the truck, and continued across the street to the outfit. He said curtly, ‘Marianne, you go and face Mr Jaeger.’
The small girl’s olive-complexioned face took on a bleached- white, drawn look. Timidly, she touched Mike’s arm. Mike’s tightly pressed lips relaxed a bit. His other arm came up and that hand touched her shoulder, lightly, encouragingly. That was all. He withdrew his hand. He nodded at her. ‘Let’s get going,’ he said.
Lee commanded: ‘Mike, you come with me!’ To the others: 'You know your jobs in a situation like this. Get set.’
Having spoken, he started rapidly along the street, followed by Mike. The two boys proceeded to a point where other houses blocked all sight of them from anybody in the Jaeger residence. Whereupon, they climbed the fence there, ran at top speed down the side of that house, and over three fences into the Jaeger backyard. Since time had gone by, Lee drew out a gas pistol while Mike headed for the rear door, after reporting that, ‘Mrs Jaeger said last night she’d leave this back door unlocked, and maybe even ajar.’
Children of Tomorrow Page 21