The COMPLEAT Collected Short SFF Stories

by Sterling E. Lanier

  Outwardly unmoved, he continued.

  "In that case, I will now recapitulate the whole story, keeping it as brief as possible. As you now know, the history of Joseph began eight months ago in Houston, in the state of Texas. An outwardly ordinary baby, the son of Mr. and Mrs. Lucas J. Hittle, was born on January 15, 1976. The birth was normal in every respect, save one.

  "As the child was born, everyone in the operating room died. Suspecting gas, an intern watching through glass from outside the room donned a smoke mask from a fire prevention kit on the wall, entered the delivery room and saved the baby, who was still barely out of his mother's body. The cord was cut and knotted, and the child kept warm.

  "The mask and uniform, despite gloves, were of course not completely airtight, and the intern also died, but only after he had summoned help by phone. As fast as that help arrived, both doctors and nurses died within seconds of entering the room."

  HARDWICK paused and studied the impassive faces before him and then went on.

  "The baby was not yet suspect, but an alert was broadcast and the hospital evacuated. Not, however, before many patients and staff members in adjoining corridors had also died. The hospital's excellent air circulating system probably saved the others.

  "Finally, fully suited and masked firemen entered the hospital and found the baby crying in the chamber of death which had introduced him to life." Hardwick still wondered about this last line, but Allen liked it, so it stayed in.

  "By chance, a brilliant and famous doctor was present. He heard of what had happened and was the first to pick out the baby as a cause of the mass deaths, working on the principle of Occam's Razor, the line of least resistance. He, that is the doctor, persuaded everyone to give out no news and to handle Joseph with every precaution for the time being.

  "He also called Washington and reached a very high government official whom he had treated in the past. As a result of his urgency, the whole hospital area was sealed off and security measures of a drastic nature were established. The press was excluded, and the Intelligence service chiefs were called to a meeting in Washington."

  Hardwick paused and poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher on the table next to him. No one spoke, and after a mouthful of water, he continued.

  "Meanwhile, the firemen and medical staff who had cared for the baby in airtight masks and suits were now also dying, dying as they removed the suits and came into contact with a residue, however faint, of the most terrible poison ever discovered!

  "And those with them were dying, from mere contact with the suits!

  "It was possible to localize the whole menace only because the suits and masks were removed on the hospital premises or in an area close by. Chance again. If one man, still suited up, had gone back to the fire station ...! None did so, luckily.

  "BY THIS time, Washington was fully alerted and subsequent suited personnel were drenched, on orders, with an hour-long spray of almost corrosive chemicals before removing their protective clothing and helmets. They were volunteers, these brave men and women, even so, because they all expected to die. They did not, however, and a check showed that their equipment was no longer lethal. This was the beginning of our project here, the first evidence that this incredible pathogen was controllable or had any limits.

  "Washington now went into full operation. The newsmen and everyone else were told that a lethal gas had been released by a maniac into an air-conditioning duct. It was openly hinted that it might even be radioactive, although this was not flatly asserted. The area around the hospital was cleared for a distance of fifty blocks, and the hospital was first scientifically burned out and then razed to nothing but ash and rubble. A continuous chemical spray was maintained for a week over the ashes, every inch of them. Even so, a terrible fear gripped the few who knew the real story. Would the burning, demolition and chemical bath do the trick? Or would the smoke spread the instant killer, whatever it was? The chance had to be taken, since the alternative might be worse.

  "Joseph, by now definitely identified as the carrier of the lethal pathogen, was secretly, with every due precaution, removed to a hidden site, and with him all who knew the truth of what he was.

  "I am the first person who knows this story ever to leave this installation, and I do not know the area I have left and to which I returned with you gentlemen. We may be under the Rockies, in Mammoth Cave or buried under an oil rig offshore in the Gulf of Mexico. It is not important. What is important is what followed the decision to save Joseph, to hide him and to try to find out what caused his monstrous inheritance. I will now turn this meeting over to Dr. Butler, who has presided over this project from its inception. Since not all of you gentlemen speak English and Dr. Butler speaks no Chinese, I will translate. Those of you who do speak English can insure that my translation is an accurate one."

  Chapter Seven

  JOANNE Butler got up and came over to stand beside Hardwick. He saw her swallow once, and then she began to speak, her low voice carrying clearly to the men seated below. She paused at the end of every short paragraph, and Hardwick put the words into his best Mandarin, before she re-commenced.

  "Gentlemen, you now know who I am. I am a biochemist who, among other things, has worked for some years for the American National Foundation of Science. I also hold a degree in psychology, which helped in my selection for this position.

  "I was virtually kidnapped in the middle of the night by agents of the U. S. government and taken to an interview with three of the highest officials of this country. At first, I thought they were mad when they explained what had happened and what they wanted me to do. My patriotism was not prepared for such a test. And, gentlemen, it still is not!"

  She waited, while Hardwick translated and then continued, her voice soft and even.

  "My patriotism is not, as I said, up to the test of running the scientific side of this project. But something else is, my feeling for all humanity."

  Hardwick expected at least a cynical smile from General Lo at this point, but to his surprise, noted nothing of the kind. Indeed, the Red security chief had leaned forward to hear better, and his face was completely serious.

  Joanne went on, after the translation.

  "When I heard the proposal that this child and his awful gift be used as the Ultimate Weapon, I was revolted to every fibre of my being, I refused the task for which I had been selected. But—I was persuaded at least to listen further.

  "I was told what the leaders of my government planned. They desperately fear a third World War, a war of total annihilation using every ghastly weapon ever devised, from bacteria and gas to the cobalt Hell bombs. They felt, and feel, that such a war is perilously close. They felt humanity had one last chance, and that chance was Joseph—whom they had christened the Deathchild.

  "IT WAS MADE very clear to me," she went on, "that there would be no conquest of any foreign country, China or any other. China would be the target for Joseph, however, if all else failed. Russia could be discounted, and even allied, since the Soviet staffs were already in secret and joint discussions with those of the West.

  "But China and her new arsenal of conquest, her new tributary states and her new attempts to rule the entire mass of eastern Asia, meant war. This was demonstrated to me in a hundred details. Whether you gentlemen here agree or disagree is not important, since I believed it and I still do.

  "I have been in charge of this place and all that it implies for over seven months, which I regard as seven months of torment. I have helped in and supervised the chemical tests and extractions of fluid from the baby's body and their subsequent processing. You have seen and tested the arsenal of test tubes which resulted. They are my work. You have seen the fantastic and hitherto-unheard-of safeguards used to take care of the Deathchild and also to protect him. You have been allowed to talk freely with the scientific staff of this place, to examine and pry into every detail, save for certain security measures, that exist here. You have seen the extraordinary robot mother designe
d to keep the baby in a happy state of mind as well as body, since we dare not tamper with anything that affects his overall well-being. And you have observed the baby and his own care and treatment."

  Hardwick thought he heard a very faint catch of breath when Joanne said "mother", but he could not be sure. He dismissed the idea temporarily and went on with his translating. The thought could be recovered. She continued, her voice steady:

  "You have seen all the films of Houston General Hospital, the death films and those of the destruction. You have, and I stress this point for the scientists among you, been allowed to examine the test animals, and have seen that the new death does not affect them. It is reserved for humans, who brought it into the world.

  "You have had access to our shielded labs and have run tests of your own, utilizing a lot of equipment you brought with you. You have examined all the cunning air and waste disposal devices, the flame incinerators, the filters, the chemical baffles. Is there anything you have not seen and still feel you must?"

  AGAIN THERE was silence, and again no one spoke. Eventually, after a look at his silent companions, General Lo shook his head.

  "Very well," said Joanne. "My responsibility for this group is over. I return you to General Hardwick." She walked back and sat down next to Allen again, shutting her eyes as she did so, from what seemed simple weariness.

  "You have heard Dr. Butler speak for, and to, the scientists," said Hardwick, resuming his conversational style. "There are a few other points to be mentioned. We have no clue to this day of Joseph's lethal mutation. No germ or bacteria, no virus, absolutely nothing, has been isolated. We remain as ignorant as at the beginning on what we are dealing with. You have seen the medical records of every member of the baby's family which we could provide, from birth to death, as far back as we can reach. There is nothing, no hint, no lead, in any of them. All were ordinary, simple Americans, differing in no way from the norm, physically or mentally. His father, poor man, is in a well guarded mental home, suffering from shock."

  Hardwick's voice hardened. "But we can, by using the baby's wastes, his blood, his perspiration, dilute and render usable in a military sense the death that he carries. We have done so on volunteers, people who were inevitably soon to die anyway of disease or of natural causes. These magnificent people, all doomed to die in any case, gave the brief remainder of their lives to test Joseph's continuing power to kill. You have seen the films and records of the men and women who died, not knowing why or how, to make sure the Deathchild could still kill. Their passing, as in all other cases, was instantaneous and painless. Beyond that grace, we have nothing to give them but honor.

  "Two of your members selected certain of their bodies, carefully preserved by freezing, and performed dissections with every device we could give you to aid. You have their findings. This ends the discussion on the local level. I will now read a document, an official copy of which will be given to you for transmission to your own government."

  HIS VOICE steady, Hardwick pulled the papers from his tunic pocket and began to read:

  "I, as President of the United States of America, in accordance with the powers vested in me by Congress, and in defense of not only the national security of the United States but the security of the entire human race, make upon the Government of the Chinese People's Republic the following requirements, to be listed here below by number. Any failure to abide by any and all of these requirements will be met by the seeding of the entire Chinese People's Republic with the serum of the Deathchild. Every plane, every missile and every means of utilization known to man, will be employed to this end. Three weeks will be granted from the date of exchange of personnel, and no more will be allowed for an affirmative answer.

  "The method of negotiation initiated by the United States, by which the Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court and the Secretary of Defense passed into custody of the People's Republic of China in exchange for the high dignitaries and scientists of that nation who will inspect the Deathchild and his facilities has, by the time of the reading of this document, been fulfilled in part. It now remains for the re-exchange to be completed and for the transmission to and the consideration by the People's Republic of China of these proposals.

  "The Requirements are herewith listed:

  "1) That all armed forces of the People's Republic of China immediately withdraw all equipment and personnel to within the borders of that country.

  "2) That a delegation will be sent at once to negotiate for a mutual and joint permanent exchange of arms control and nuclear power control personnel between the United States and the People's Republic of China.

  "3) That the People's Republic of China at once apply for admission to the United Nations.

  "4) That ...

  Chapter Eight

  TWO WEEKS had come and gone when Hardwick emerged from his daily visit to the guarded communications center. It was four o'clock in the afternoon by his watch, and a feeling of futility and depression rode him like the black dog his Irish grandmother used to talk about.

  There was still no answer to Washington from Peking, and time was running out. In only another five days he would have to give orders to start loading the sealed cases which were Joseph's gift to his fellow humans. The helicopters would come to the hidden field far above, and the cargo of death would depart, to begin its journey to the far-scattered launching sites, airfields and submarine pens.

  And what would happen then, he thought? If his deepest and almost unconscious suspicions were correct, what would happen then?

  He strolled along the corridors toward his quarters, nodding absently to the guards as he passed them. He had nearly reached his room when he saw Joanne passing ahead of him at a cross corridor.

  Without even thinking, he called out to her, and she waited until he had caught up.

  Hardwick had not seen much of his female counterpart since the departure of the Chinese delegation. She had totally withdrawn, staying in her quarters and having most of her meals sent in. The only time she had come out was for work, the continual and never-ceasing tests and inspections of the baby's byproducts and serology. Otherwise, she had simply stayed away from everyone, even from Tom Allen, who was her closest friend in the installation.

  Now, under the unvarying glow of the fluorescents, she waited almost passively as he approached. Her face, he saw with an inner wrench, was white and drawn, the skin taut over her high cheekbones, the eyes smudged and blurred looking, without expression.

  "Hey, lady, where you been?" he asked in a gruff voice. He took her by the arm, and she followed as if without a will of her own. Inwardly, he cursed the world and its problems which had brought the two of them together under this man-killing strain and these cave-dwelling conditions.

  "I prescribe a stiff belt in my quarters," he said, trying to keep his voice casual. "You don't mind not being chaperoned, I hope?"

  HER ONLY answer was a wan smile, but she made no resistance and allowed him almost to lead her to his room. It was as if the unending responsibility had finally drained away all her will power and left a semi-robot, capable only of routine tasks.

  He had barely seated her in the room's only chair and started to open his little wall refrigerator when his private phone burred, the green light indicating a closed line. He put down the ice cubes and picked it up, wondering what now.

  "Okay, pal," said Tom Allen. "I was just in the comm room. They gave in. A little haggling, but they gave in. A few of our reports have picked up the start of a pullout from Burma already. Congratulations! Say so to your friend as well. Good luck." There was a click, and the fine was dead.

  Hardwick put the phone down slowly, wondering, as he had in the past, where Allen got some of his information. How had he known Joanne was there? And why "Good luck"? Maybe ESP was his secret.

  He looked at her, staring at the wall, her face dead and gone to outside concerns, and felt a violent need to bring her back to life on a crash basis.

  She sipped t
he drink he gave her but still said nothing, like a child doing what an adult has ordered, dutifully but uncomprehendingly.

  "Joanne," he said softy, standing over her. "Look at me. We've won. That was Tom on the phone. The Chinese are coming to terms. It worked. We're really going to have peace for a while."

  She looked up slowly and blinked. Then her tired eyes filled with tears. She put the glass on the floor and buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably. Hardwick stood over her, his own face working, and wondered, like a normal male idiot, what to do.

  She solved the problem for him by rising and coming into his arms so quickly that some of his highball sloshed over her back. Neither of them paid it any attention.

  It was half an hour before any sense returned to the room, and by this time they were both in the chair.

  Joanne was curled up in his lap, her arms still around his neck, her hair in total disorder, an expression of bliss on her face, which seemed to have lost years of age in mere moments.

  CURSING himself for what he had to do, Hardwick rose, lifted her and laid her gently on the bed. Then he stood away from her, looking down, his hands behind his back.

  "Honey," he said, "we have to settle something right now. I've lived with a crazy idea for a long time, and the crazier it got, the more sense it made. I have to know the answer."

  The smile slipped from her face; she lay back on the pillow and stared at him.

  "Whose child is Joseph?" asked Hardwick quietly. "And aside from not being toilet-trained, what else prevents him from adorning a living room rug in any normal home?"

  To his amazement, after a quick catch of breath, a very faint smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. She stretched and locked her arms behind her head in relaxation.