RGL e-Book Cover 2018©
RGL e-Book Cover 2018©
Amazing Stories, April 1943, with "Daughter of Destiny"
For two thousand years no woman had lived on Earth. Then Jerry Rand found a time-capsule—and material for an experiment!
Her beauty captivated the world—and came near to wrecking it.
"LEFARR can blow his blasted brains out!" Jerry Rand shouted above the steady roar of rocket exhaust. "That's the last space capsule. Its mystery will be solved in the next half hour or we'll be floating in space with our ship knocked out from under us."
He jammed all rocket release levers down hard and felt space- ship X10 pound forward into the blackness of the moon pit, Cassini. Behind Rand, "Rad" Wallace, pudgy, grim-faced dual man held tightly to his controls. "Rad" Wallace's lips were moving, but not in prayer.
The approaching dreadnaught was clearly visible in the long range tela-glass now. It came hurtling down the dark side of the pit, not five hundred miles behind the X10. Rand's ship was within diving distance of the space capsule. The capsule hung in the dark void beneath them like a slim metal pencil, leading them onward.
"LeFarr's got the atomic cannon trained on us," Rad Wallace said calmly. "He'll have our range soon, and then blotto for the X10."
Jerry Rand twisted in his seat, appraising eyes fixed on the tela-glass.
"We've got time to swing out the space net, scoop up the capsule and swing out of his range." His mouth set in savage white lines. "I'll give LeFarr a taste of his own medicine before we get out of this mess."
Rad Wallace leaped from his place at the controls and shouted down the corridor toward the main hatch. The X10 shuddered as the space net shaped like a hollowed, perforated sail fluttered out from the side of the speedy X10 and straightened in the wind. LeFarr was almost within range now, his great fighting ship whistling down toward the small X10 with terrific speed.
"We better get out of here before we get blown wide open," Wallace shouted. "That guy means business."
Jerry Rand watched the image of the pursuing dreadnaught grow large against the screen. His hands were steady on the controls. The X10 went into a twisting, howling spin and the ship lurched slightly as the space-capsule hit the net and sank into its grasping folds. Rand straightened the ship out quickly. With a sigh of relief he saw that the capsule was safe and the crew already busy with the job of dragging the net in. He turned his full attention to LeFarr and the onrushing dreadnaught.
"We got it all right," Rad Wallace said. "Better dodge LeFarr if you can. We aren't strong enough to fight him."
Rand's face lighted in a slow grin. His hand came back slowly on the controls and the X10 turned about hard and climbed steadily toward the blue lip of the pit. Up—up the wall they twisted and climbed, and in the tela-glass LeFarr's dreadnaught was a huge black blot. They were under the belly of the big fighter.
"Give him a dose of fire," Rand ordered coolly. "It may teach him to keep his big blunderbuss out of our territory."
Wallace leaped toward the controls of the small, rapid firing atomic guns. With a quick jerk, he sent five roaring shots of flame directly into the belly of the dreadnaught. Five separate mushrooms of red flame broke outward from the dark ship, lighting the velvety black pit.
"That'll keep them busy for a while," Wallace said grimly. "It'll take a few hours to get that fire under control."
Rand nodded. Through the rear sights he watched LeFarr's ship falter and come about. Men were dashing wildly out of the hatches, ready to fight the blaze. The XI0 cleared the lip of Cassini and went diving into space toward earth.
"Take over," Rand commanded. "I'm going to find out if this capsule is another false alarm."
RAD WALLACE had never been prouder of his youthful chief.
Jerry Rand was all that the tough old warrior was not. Rand, in
Rad Wallace's opinion was the tallest, hardest-fighting youngster
in the Earth patrol. The boy had trained hard to come into the
service with a clear head and the finest physique Wallace had
ever looked upon. As they went aft together, the fat, lopsided
old fighter had to puff and grunt to keep stride with the long-
legged Rand.
This was their last chance, and if it failed, their last trip in each other's company. Four times they had fought and blasted their way into and out of every space trap in the universe. Four times they had found nothing. This, the last trip, would have to be successful.
"Five capsules," the manuscript had said, "have been shot into space. Because pirates will search for them, only one has been loaded. The odds are against its being found. In that capsule lies the future happiness of man. A fortune more precious than all else."
When they reached the forward cabin, Slingo, the pin-headed Martian deck hand had already drawn in the space net, and the capsule was on the floor at his feet. It was barely six feet in length and made of shining metal.
Slingo jumped up and down in his excitement. "I t'ink you got someting here, my Captain."
Under Rand's supervision, Slingo turned the screw-cap loose and it rolled across the floor.
"He's cold like everything, Captain," Slingo protested. "And heavy too."
His eyes were shining with anticipation. Rand pushed him away gently and sank to his knees. Something in the capsule was hard and brittle against his fingers.
"Ice!" Rand's voice was bitter with disappointment. "Some fool has pawned ice upon us as a great treasure."
An oath escaped Wallace's thick lips. He dropped heavily to the floor at Rand's side. Rand started to pull the ice stick from the capsule and his breath caught suddenly in a horrified gasp.
"Good God," Wallace whispered. "A man!"
"But such a man I have never see," Slingo protested. "It has long hair, my Captain, and a very weak face."
It was true. Jerry Rand had never seen a human creature like this. Its face was delicately molded with high cheek bones and flawless white skin. It was clad in a short, pale green garment. The creature was long and slim with small hands and legs that had never been made to carry it for any distance. Oddest of all were the twin mounds of flesh that appeared on either side of its deformed chest. They stood taut and uniform under the straining cloth.
CAREFULLY Rand dragged the ice block across the room and
lifted it to the couch. His hands were dripping from the melting
ice. The crew stood at a respectable distance, gazing with wonder
at the strange thing they had discovered.
"Frozen in ice," Rand said slowly. "It is like nothing I have ever seen."
"This must have been a strange world five thousand years ago," Wallace offered almost grimly, "to let such weaklings rise to power."
Water dripped away from the melting sheath and collected on the floor beneath the couch. There was only a thin casing of ice on the body now. Still they waited, not knowing what to do. Finally the last of the ice shell had melted. Color flowed into the face of the strange creature. The limbs turned a glowing pink and the queerly deformed chest started to rise and fall gently. The creature's heart was beating.
Lips that turned red, parted slightly and soft blue eyes opened wide. They stared as though fixed on the wall. Rad Wallace walked to the couch and pushed a searching finger curiously against the rounded chest.
"This is a queer man," he said softly. "His chest is soft and warm to the touch."
The contact was almost pleasant. He was about to repeat it when the figure on the couch sat upright suddenly, leaning on one slim elbow. There was no mistaking the utter horror in its wide eyes.
"Doctor Ames? Where is he?"
Wide eyes swept the room, searching every face for some recognition. Then awareness of the tiny fighting-cabin, the roughly-clothed men seemed to penetrate the stranger's mind.
"Please! Someone call Doctor Ames. This isn't the hospital. Where am I? What has happened?"
Jerry Rand, standing there stiff and tall among his crew, realized for the first time how really precious his discovery was. Doctor Ames was the man who, five thousand years ago, had prepared the manuscript Rand held in his possession. The great Doctor Ames whom history had long listed as the outstanding man of his age, had duped this creature in some manner. The stranger on the couch wasn't aware of the immense length of time that had elapsed since it first had slept. Suddenly a wave of pity swept over the young captain of the XI0. This stranger had awakened to a new, strange world. The very basics of life had changed since that long gone day this oddly-formed creature had entered the capsule. For five thousand years man had been created in test tubes. No woman had lived on Earth in all that time.
Jerry Rand was fully convinced that the space capsule, said to contain man's greatest treasure, had restored to the world something long forgotten. Here, breathing normally, and in full possession of her senses, was Earth's only woman!
RAND went toward her and in two strides reached her side. The
girl came upright, her body taut and decant. Rand went down on
one knee.
"Please do not misunderstand," he begged. "We know nothing of you. My men are only curious to find what matter of human being they have discovered."
She sat very still, alert and waiting for him to go on. Rand marvelled at the smooth skin of her body. The way it seemed to radiate heat.
"I went to the hospital last night, and Doctor Ames was to remove my tonsils." Her voice was low with anger. "What do you expect me to do when I awaken in—in this den of yours? You'd better send this mob of thick skinned bums out of here before I tear out a few eyes."
"You've been away from the hospital for considerably more than a night," he said softly. "You must understand that we mean you no harm. Destiny has played a queer game with you."
The girl's blue eyes blazed as she sprang to her feet. The flimsy cloth that only partly covered her slim, dainty figure, seemed to retreat as she drew it closely about her.
"Don't get me wrong," she blazed. "I don't know how I got here and I don't give a care. I'm a lady and you'd better get me out of this stag party before I start screaming."
Rand backed away from her, wary at the sudden outbreak. Her words puzzled him and he feared she might attack in some strange manner.
"Stag? Party?"
"Wait a minute, fella." Her breasts rose and fell with anger, and she sank backward on the couch once more, her arms crossed to cover the smooth mounds of flesh. "This act doesn't register with me. Take me home before I pull a tiger act on that handsome face of yours. I go to sleep expecting to wake up with a sore throat and now I get myself into the kidnap racket. It doesn't scare me a bit."
Rand knew that in some manner he must make her understand what had happened. It was obvious that the ancient Doctor Ames had told his patient nothing of what was to happen to her. She had been led to believe that her sleep would last a few hours. It had lasted centuries. Perhaps by ancient standards of beauty the child considered herself attractive. To Rand she seemed small and very much outmoded in his world of men. Earth scientists would want to question her and explore the manner in which she had been molded. He must be careful that no harm came to the girl.
"I'm sincere," he said. "I am your friend. Please believe me."
With a defiant toss of her head she sent long black curls flying over her shoulders. Shrugging, she placed a small hand on his brown arm.
"The big bad wolf won't hurt you, darling," she said. "Just go and see his etchings. No you don't, Santa Claus! I'm sitting right here until you promise to get me home, and I can swing a mean right if you get funny."
Rand was careful to stay where she could make no sudden attack upon him.
"I think," he said solemnly, "that some explanation is necessary."
"And I think you'd better get me out of this house of horrors and let me catch the next train for home. My dad's a cop and when he finds out what you've done! Oh boy!"
HE made no attempt to understand her strange jargon. He had to
tell her what had happened and he knew she would suffer a
terrible mental shock. Would she understand that by a simple
experiment, she had been preserved through time until now she was
but a museum piece—a creature to be studied coldly under
the light of research?
"You must listen to me," Rand said suddenly. "After I've finished..."
"You'll take me home?" She was eager, and perhaps a little frightened now.
"My name is Jerry Rand," he told her.
"And I'm Sheila Laughlin, daughter of a Chicago policeman and belonging to one of the best Irish families to see God's green earth. Now, that we've been introduced formally, let's talk turkey."
"Three years ago," Rand started, "I was sent into space in search of a strange treasure."
At the mention of space, Sheila Laughlin made an odd, dry sound in her throat and went suddenly pale. She nodded for him to go on.
"I had discovered an old manuscript in the vault of an ancient hospital. The man who wrote it foresaw the disease that would drive all women from the earth."
He watched Sheila Laughlin's face closely and was surprised that her eyes never wavered from his.
"This man was named Doctor Ames. He prepared five space capsules. Four were empty but into the fifth he placed a girl and froze her body in time-ice. When the plague struck he planned to duplicate this feat many times. He was too late. By the end of his life, no woman remained alive on earth."
"Now tell me one about Buck Rogers," Sheila snapped. "He's my style."
Yet, she was interested now. She knew that there had been a Doctor Ames at city hospital. It all sounded possible.
"Buck Rogers?" He looked at her questioningly.
Sheila drew her knees up under her chin and clasped her fingers about them. She was very still watching Rand through half-closed lids.
"Go on," she begged softly. "I guess I'm in for it."
"There is little more to tell. I have found the girl that Doctor Ames placed in the capsule. From now on she is the property of the High Council of Earth."
The girl's forehead was wrinkled with bewilderment. She stood up and went falteringly toward the row of quartz windows in the side of the cabin. Stopping at the nearest, she hesitated, her face pale, and looked out. Nothing but void was outside that window. Far ahead, rushing up to them, was the small, whirling globe of Earth. Away in all directions, the planets and smaller bodies of the universe followed their carefully-plotted courses.
For a long time she stood there, and when she left the window her face showed acceptance of the blow that had struck her. There was no doubting now. No turning back. Her life had been stretched by time into a world of which she knew nothing. A world that was harsh and cruel and belonged to men. There was no place here for her. There was no place in time for her. She was one frail, frightened woman facing a world of men, alone.
SHE went straight to the tall young man who had been kind to
her. She believed him now, and had trust in him. In his hands her
future safety lay. She put a faltering hand on his arm and looked
into his eyes.
"What year is this?" she asked abruptly.
"Five thousand years have passed since you were frozen and your heart stopped beating," he answered. "The year now is 6942."
She stood up slowly, hot blood rushing to her face.
"Then I was the—the rabbit in the hat," she said. "Out of fifty million femmes, it had to be this girl who was put on ice for five thousand years."
The last words came from her lips reluctantly, as though the very sound of them left her stunned. Tears formed in her eyes.
"The boys will be biting their nails to see me, I suppose?" she said weakly.
Rand, coming from a race of men who knew nothing of woman's emotions, found himself strangely moved by her reaction.
"I know not the meaning of 'biting their nails,'" he admitted. "There will, of course, be certain repercussions."
Sheila Laughlin didn't smile. Her face was a mask of slowly dawning understanding.
"Yeah!" she murmured softly, "I should think there would be 'certain repercussions.'"
And then she slipped toward the floor. As his arms went around her, she felt a strange feeling of relaxation. This, she decided, was enough to make any decent girl faint.
JERRY RAND had been commissioned by the High Council to fly
the spaceways in search of treasure. His finding of Sheila
Laughlin had been a startling discovery. However, the discovery
wasn't the type of information that should be made public until
the High Council approved. Several hours out of East Station he
called the crew together for a final meeting before they landed.
Rad Wallace raised a thick arm for silence and Rand addressed his
men.
"You have all witnessed the finding of a woman. You have been told of this discovery and its importance. No one can guess the effect her presence will have on earth. We haven't the authority to make her finding known until the High Council gives us a decision. No doubt they will consider her a rare example of life in the past and her history will fill a wide gap in our libraries. Until that time, I hold each of you responsible for her safety and ask that you forget that she is with us. I believe I can trust you all."
When the crew had returned to their tasks of landing the X10, Rand stood, alone and badly puzzled, in the forward cabin. There was, he knew, nothing different or sub-normal about men of his race. They had been developed and incubated in test tubes. They emerged to grow as healthy, thoughtful men of normal size. Men able to think and act perfectly.
He pondered over old history book facts, about men and women who had been different. Rand grinned a little and wondered if Sheila's coming to earth would be greeted with sly chuckles at her physical weakness. He wondered if men would place her apart as an example of the days when other men, too weak to stand by themselves, leaned against women to support certain weaknesses within themselves.
There lurked in Rand's mind the terrible thought that he might be forced to yield to her attractions. He had turned the word "she" over in his mind many times in the last few hours. It was dangerously pleasant on his tongue.
Rand didn't find the slim figure, red lips and softly rounded body disgusting to his eyes. Yet, there was still that strong feeling of disinterest toward her, bred from a life without her kind. A disinterest that made him angry at his weaker thoughts.
"Am I disturbing Superman?"
Startled by the sudden voice from behind him, Rand twisted around. Sheila Laughlin leaned in the open door, her lightly-clad body poised gracefully. A smile parted her moist lips and the teeth behind them were even and pearly-white.
"I-I did not hear," he stammered. "I hope you are comfortable?"
She had succeeded in smoothing the wrinkles from her short skirt and the dark hair was combed out fine and shining on smooth shoulders. Rand wondered at the delicate flesh of her body. He had never seen anything like this in his world of brawny men.
"I'm a darn long way from being comfortable," she protested. "How would you feel if you were dropped into a world of women?"
Though the question was vague to him, he was aware of what she implied.
IN Sheila Laughlin's mind there was a plan. It was rather vague and she knew she faced tremendous odds. In the short time she had been aboard the XI0, Sheila realized this man, Rand, was the only one she could cling to for safety.
The men about her stared as though she were some rare museum piece. An odd animal to be studied coolly and dissected either by the eye or knife for research purposes. Rand's mention of the High Council and its ownership of her had disturbed Sheila more and more during those few hours since she had awakened on the couch with Rand staring down at her. She realized that the High Council, made up of men who had never seen or dreamed of a woman, would be heartless in its use of her.
If she could manage to awaken some interest in Rand, perhaps he would protect her. Otherwise, her fate would be the fate of a strange butterfly caught in the net of some long-bearded scientist.
She watched Rand closely, wondering what effect she would have on him.
Wondering if in his heart there lay buried some long lost attraction to the feminine sex. As much as she hated to throw herself at him, Sheila knew she must do so.
For the first time in his life, Jerry Rand blushed.
"We will dock at East Station shortly," he said. "You will remain on the X10 until arrangements are made."
Sheila's face clouded.
"I understand I'm to be a sort of prisoner of war until the High Council decides whether I'll look better pressed between book-ends or stuffed."
Jerry was uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," he said stiffly. "Men of our time know little of women. I do not want them to laugh at you."
"They won't laugh," she said coolly and he saw fury in her eyes again. "I'll see to that."
"Please!" More and more he was aware of the strange warmth that her presence made inside his body. The comfortable feeling of her nearness. "There are certain differences about your life—your body. Our men of science will want to study you."
Sheila was still angry.
"I don't let any old billy goats paw me over," she said. "I'll answer anything they ask me if they keep the party clean. After that, hands off. I'm Mama's girl."
Rand didn't understand her. All he knew was that her eyes were twinkling. He smiled back, hoping she wouldn't act that way again.
"How about you, Jerry?" she asked suddenly. "Did you come from a test tube?"
He nodded.
"How else?"
She walked to his side, her hips swinging gracefully, hair floating behind her smooth neck.
"It—it sounds impossible. Haven't you ever been kissed?"
RAND tried to back away and felt the wall behind him. She
stood close now, one of her hands resting on his shoulder.
"I have read that in the past, certain liberties were taken between sexes," he said faintly. "Of course to us, these things are but foolish fancies of an ancient life."
Oddly enough, he didn't even believe his own words. He wished that he could call for Rad Wallace, and then felt foolish to have given the idea a thought. She stood near him, a broad grin on her saucy face.
"Perhaps," she said, "it's the five thousand years I've spent in the ice box—and perhaps it's just that you're a darn nice-looking boy. Jerry, I think I'll kiss you."
Her arms crept around his neck and her fingers traced little lines on his cheek. He stood stiff and terrified. Then her warmth aroused things within him that had been long dormant. His arms swept around her waist and pressed the breath from her. Her lips, parted slightly, were against his own.
When he released her, Sheila Laughlin stood very still, arms limp at her side. There was something in her eyes that reminded him of the stars on a velvety black night.
"Man kisses woman after five thousand years," her voice came to him detached and far away. "By the ghost of Saint Patrick, Man hasn't forgotten a thing."
Even then, tasting his lips and feeling his strong young body close to her, Sheila could not be sure. She had aroused within him something alien to his way of life. Yet, watching him as he waited for her to leave, she knew she had lost. Knew she had failed to take his mind from the single track of duty it had been trained to follow. Nothing on earth would keep Jerry Rand from turning her over to the mercy of the High Council once they landed on earth. She knew this, and as she turned and left the room, there was a dull, hopeless ache in her heart that made Sheila feel even more alone in a vast world of men. She must plan her campaign accordingly; and slowly there arose in her the idea that there must be some way to arouse men once more. To make them realize the priceless, age old heritage of woman and the things they could give. Once outside the control room, Sheila Laughlin's chin lifted and her eyes grew cool and determined. There would be a way.
"LOOK," Rad Wallace said. "If that ain't Harrison LeFarr's
space dreadnaught at the far end of the space-port, I'm a Martian
potato bug."
They stood together in the control cabin, Jerry Rand piloting the X10 skillfully toward its space dock while Sheila Laughlin and Wallace watched at his elbows.
Rand studied the sleek hull of LeFarr's ship. When he turned, his face was grim.
"It's LeFarr all right," he said. "He's been here long enough to have every space cop on the force waiting for us to land. There isn't a man in East Station who will believe that we attacked LeFarr's ship in self-defense."
Sheila Laughlin watched them questioningly, first the fat, stocky Wallace, and then the slim, hard mouthed Rand whom she had learned to care for so soon.
"LeFarr has complete control here," Wallace said, understanding how little she had been told. "He is the greatest scientist on earth. His laboratories turn out the population of the earth. His word is tops with the High Council.
"But if he was also looking for me," Sheila protested, "tell him that I am safe with you. That should settle the matter."
"It won't," Rand said shortly. "He wants the credit for discovering you. I had special permission from the High Council to search for the missing treasure and I'm going to collect my own reward."
"But what are we to do?" Wallace demanded. "LeFarr will board the ship and demand that we turn over our treasure. When he sees the girl, he'll go wild. What could please him more than to show her to the High Council and demand his due reward?"
"I have a plan," Rand said coolly. "Slingo is waiting in the hold of the X10. As soon as we dock, Sheila will join him there. Tonight when the ship is deserted, Slingo will take her to my apartment and she will be safe from LeFarr."
"And if I don't choose to be pushed around like a pet mummy?" Sheila asked. "What then?"
Rand whirled about, his features drawn and determined.
"It will be well to understand," he said, "that you have been found by my expedition and that you are my property. At the meeting of the Council of March, which is scheduled for the coming fifth day, Slingo will bring you to me as I stand before the High Council. Once in their protection you will be safe from LeFarr. The fame of your discovery will be in my hands and the Council will do with you what will be of most benefit to our society."
Sheila Laughlin was suddenly speechless with rage. She stood alone, staring away from them, down at the strange space-field that seemed to rush up to them with impossible speed.
It was truly a strange world she had awakened in. A world far advanced mechanically, inhabited by men who held no love or pity in their souls. It would be useless to argue now. Later perhaps, a plan would present itself and if it did, she would be ready.
THE X10 slipped into dock silently, bounced back against
powerful shock cushions and the motors went dead. At once the
landing-platform was covered with waiting space officers. The
outer door of the dock swung open and Harrison LeFarr ran across
the platform, several uniformed men at his heels. They watched
him through the heavy quartz windows as he reached the lower
level of the X10 and entered.
"This is it," Wallace groaned. "We'll lose the girl, and our necks. LeFarr is after his pound of flesh this time, after what we did to his ship and his pride."
There were hurried voices in the corridors below and footsteps sounded on the steps.
"Quick!" Rand grasped Sheila Laughlin's arm and drew her hurriedly away from the control board. He pushed a small door in the wall to one side. "Through this and into the ship's hold. Slingo the Martian will see that you are safe."
He pushed her through the opening almost roughly. Below pitch dark steps, Sheila heard Slingo's voice coming up to her in a harsh whisper.
"Stay close to the wall, my Lady. That Captain one smart fella. Slingo will see you don't get hurt."
In the control-room Rand and Rad Wallace waited.
LeFarr entered first. The three men with him were dressed in stiff blue space-patrol uniforms. LeFarr stopped short, looking about in amazement. It was evident that he had expected to find some rare treasure here.
Harrison LeFarr was a slim, stoop shouldered man with graying hair and bushy eyebrows that jumped up and down as the muscles of his face quivered with anger. His eyes, black as night, darted searchingly around the room and rested finally on Jerry Rand.
"Where is it?" His voice cracked like a whip as he panted with the exertion he had undergone. "Where is the treasure that you took from the capsule?"
Rand curbed an impulse to smash his fist into the man's hateful face. He stood with hands clenched at his side, judging each word as it fell from his tight lips.
"There is no treasure," he said. "The fifth capsule was empty like the others."
Rad Wallace chuckled audibly.
LeFarr was raging. His jaw muscles worked convulsively.
"I saw you take that capsule on board," he roared. "You would not have returned so soon if it had held nothing. I demand, as a member of the High Council, to see what you have brought back."
Evidently the officers who were with him had grown nervous with their assignment.
"Perhaps," one suggested, "the Councilor was mistaken?"
LeFarr twisted about like a crazy man. He started to shout again, then caught himself. Words came from his lips smoothly, with the quiet precision of a machine.
"Perhaps," he admitted, "I am wrong. But I was not mistaken when I accused this young fool of attacking my ship and attempting to destroy me. For the time being I demand that he be held in prison at Captolia.* Later I will see that he is brought before the High Council and properly punished for his deeds."
[* Captolia—Earth's only prison. An escape-proof building close to the Council Chamber, maintained especially for political prisoners.]
"Take it easy," Rand cautioned. "I have a full crew of men who will swear that I fought you in self-defense. Men are still free in this country. When I am proven not guilty, you will be the one to suffer."
LeFarr seemed about to explode with his own importance. Turning toward the still hesitant officers, he shouted:
"Did you hear me? Am I not one of the members of the Council? My word is law." The men circled about Rand.
"We hate to do this," one of them said. "We have no choice."
Rand turned quietly to Rad Wallace.
"Take it easy Rad," he cautioned. "We'll have our round later. This is LeFarr's turn to be tough, so let's go quietly."
They were led from the cabin to the sun-splashed field. Official cars waited to take them away. Somewhere in the X10, Slingo and Sheila Laughlin crouched in the darkness, waiting for the safety of night in which to leave the field and hide where Harrison LeFarr couldn't find them.
THE Chamber of the High Council was a seething mass of men.
This was the Council of March and today all the important cases
of the year would come before the aged brain-trust that ruled
Earth. The chamber itself was nearly a mile in length. Great
radio-screens carried the slightest whisper booming to every
corner.
Press and radio-screen men had been pouring in since early morning. The case of Rand vs. Councilor LeFarr had received wide flung publicity. Although no question of its outcome had been raised, the affair held a certain importance.
The story of Sheila Laughlin had been carefully suppressed. Still, rumor had whispered that something strange and wonderful was in the air. Press and radio-screen outfits could ill afford the chance of missing a story that might eclipse all history.
At one o'clock the High Council filed in and took their places on the rostrum There were twenty men, gowned in dull gray robes and long-curled wigs. Harrison LeFarr took his place among them and his appearance sent a stir of excitement through the audience.
The High Judge, old and wise, his face stiff with wrinkles, arose and tapped lightly on the sound board. The radio-screen sent the crash of his blow across the chamber and the silence that followed was complete.
The High Judge waited, a minute passed, then his voice came breaking across the room through the speakers.
"We are about to hear the stories of two men who say they have been wronged. We who sit here must judge carefully if there is to be proper punishment. We ask that you refrain from expressing yourselves in any manner until this council is closed."
In the press box under the rostrum reporters moved about quietly. The chamber was hushed in expectation. Jerry Rand came through the low door from the cell room, followed by the shambling hulk of Rad Wallace. They sat down on the level below the High Council.
Harrison LeFarr arose and without hesitation stated his case.
"My ship and my men were attacked in the moon pit, Cassini, while searching for valuable treasure," he said calmly. "This man Citizen Rand turned his guns on us without hesitation, destroying our cargo and in the battle that followed he attempted to murder us all. No answer that he may give will justify that attack."
At once the press section was alive with action. Radio-screen projectors carried LeFarr's accusation to a waiting world. LeFarr, men knew at once, was so sure that he would win over Rand, that he had taken no trouble to prepare his case.
Jerry Rand sat quietly, his chair drawn close to Wallace. The black prison suit of Captolia covered his body. He stared at the floor, seemingly disinterested in what was happening.
The High Judge arose once more, mopped his face with a clean handkerchief and looked about him at the vast audience.
"We have heard Harrison LeFarr's story," he said. "It is well known that his work is almost beyond estimate in its importance to us all. The word of such a man cannot be lightly tossed aside."
THE old man turned gently toward Rand.
"Stand up, Citizen Rand, and tell us why you committed this seemingly insane act. If there be justification, we would know of it."
Rand shot a quick glance at Wallace and the old warrior grinned.
"Give 'em hell," he said quickly, "I'm with you all the way."
Rand went to his feet stiffly and walked before the High Judge. As he turned toward the chamber his knees shook under him. A body that functioned perfectly behind the guns felt awkward and out of place here.
"You have heard the truth," he said in a low voice. "We did attack the dreadnaught of LeFarr—in self-defense. More than that, I would do the same again if it were necessary."
He tried to go on talking and found himself suddenly drowned out by the deafening shout of anger that went up from the crowd. Men were on their feet protesting. The radio-screen projector, trained on his face, was white and hot with scrutinizing light. The chamber was in an uproar. The High Judge sprang to his feet and clapped his hand down hard against the sound board. Repeatedly he pounded for silence and gradually the tumult died. Men continued to watch Jerry Rand with murder in their eyes.
"Attention!" The High Judge had restored order. "We admit this man's own testimony is damning to himself. This council will hear him finish."
He turned to Rand, waiting for him to go on.
"LeFarr has done wonderful work among us," Jerry Rand admitted. "He is known for his improvements on our men and our land. I myself, came to earth under his skilled fingers. Yet, not six weeks ago this Council sent me in search of a great treasure. You men supplied money for my needs, that I might prove that such a treasure existed."
"And did you bring back our money?" a voice taunted from the gallery.
Rand looked upward, his shoulders erect and proud.
"I brought more," he answered. "I was within grasping distance of that treasure when LeFarr's ship attacked the X10. I tell you I am as shocked as you are that such a man should stoop to such an act."
LeFarr sprang to his feet and in a voice taut with rage, shouted to the chamber.
"Don't believe this young fool. I tell you he turned and sent his guns firing into my dreadnaught."
The High Judge raised his hand.
"Let Rand finish," he ordered. "There is yet time for you."
LeFarr sank back, hands clutching the arms of his chair. Blue veins stood out against his forehead.
"If I am to be judged," Rand said coolly, "I should be judged as a man on equal terms with Harrison LeFarr. His position does not make him immune. We men are equal."
A faint cheer came from the rear of the chamber and died abruptly.
"I know not why he sent his ship against mine, unless he wished personal glory. I fought to the best of my ability to outwit a pirate craft. I would do as much again."
THE High Council was puzzled by this man who dared be frank
about his act. Men in the chamber sympathized now with Jerry
Rand. They liked the clear ring of his voice and the way he
reminded them of freedom.
LeFarr was ready for a reply. He crossed the gallery and stood before Rand. When he spoke it was with the gentle cunning of an animal who had trapped his adversary.
"We have heard great words from this criminal who seeks to cover his crime with talk of freedom. I am sorry that I was on the ship that, as he so disarmingly puts it, deliberately attacked him. Ask him where the treasure is that he brought from the moon pit, Cassini. I too was in search of it, and perhaps if he had not sent his cannons against me, this chamber could gaze upon the contents of the space capsule."
He returned to his chair with the High Council and sat down contentedly. The place was loud now with whispering. Men turned in their seats as though seeking an answer to his challenge. The High Council awaited Rand's reply.
"We've got him by the scruff of the neck," Rad Wallace whispered. "He thinks we failed. Slingo has done his job well."
Rand nodded slightly and went to his place before the Council. The audience was waiting. Waiting for something; they weren't sure what. Every radio-screen projector was on his face.
"I was sent on a mission," Jerry Rand said simply. "I did not fail in my duty to you."
LeFarr came forward in his seat, lips straight and white. He was silent, waiting.
"I brought a woman to earth," Rand said, and the chamber was a vast electrified box of tension. "I felt that this woman would face certain death in the hands of those who would take her body apart for science. With the permission and the protection of the High Council I am ready to present the first woman who has seen this earth in five thousand years. A girl who is fresh and filled with the bloom of youth. She has been asleep through the ages in the space-capsule of ice."
He turned toward the High Judge. That gentleman, obviously overwrought by the announcement, jerked his head in quick permission. Rand turned his gaze on the door to the outer hall, saw Slingo there in the shadow gesturing excitedly and motioned him with his hand. Nothing happened. He had expected Sheila Laughlin to come through that door. Expected to show his people the treasure he had brought for them.
Slingo the Martian stood at the door, waving his arms excitedly. The chamber was silent, waiting for the impossible. Rand started toward the door, then stopped in bewilderment. Behind him, LeFarr started to chuckle.
RAND thought he heard in that laugh, the reason for Sheila
Laughlin's failure to appear. Slingo, his pin head bobbing in
excitement, dashed across the rostrum to Rand's side. His eyes
were wide with fear and his lips moved rapidly before he managed
to find his voice.
"The girl," he cried in horror. "She is gone, my Captain!"
The color drained from Rand's face. He grasped the little Martian's shoulders, holding him at arm's length.
"What?" His heart was sick and angry. "But you were to see that she came here today."
Slingo's head dipped forward in humiliation.
"I am truly sorry, my Captain," he muttered humbly. "The girl and I go to your apartment like you say. She seem very happy there and I do not have to watch her close. Then, today when we are to come here, she is gone. I look everywhere and I cannot find. At last I can look no longer, and I must come and tell you."
Rand released the little fellow, realizing his last card had turned out to be a deuce. There were no words, now, that would clear him from LeFarr's trumped-up charged. He was at the mercy of the High Council.
He turned slowly, and caught the quick look of triumph in LeFarr's eyes. The challenge was too much. With one long bound he was at LeFarr's side, arm upraised.
"You filthy...!"
A heavy fist crashed into his face and he went to one knee, burning pain rushing through his brain. He realized that to insult a member of the Council without first proving that member worthy of an insult, was unforgivable. The officer of the chamber stood over him, rubbing a hairy fist.
"Sorry!" he said. "I had to do it."
Rand came to his feet unsteadily, shaking his head to rid it of pain. LeFarr had been waiting his chance.
"This man has proven his own guilt," he said, turning to the High Judge. "He has failed to produce the girl. I could have brought her with me, had it not been for him. I demand that he be sentenced to Captolia for his crime."
"What can you say for yourself, Citizen Rand?" The High Judge's voice was cold and even.
Rand was silent. Without Sheila, his story was impossible. It was useless to fight now. He stood with bowed head, awaiting sentence.
The High Judge sank slowly into his chair.
"This Council has no choice," he said. "You are sentenced to ten years in Captolia. Your crime has been serious but fortunately no great harm has been done. Perhaps you will come to us again with a full understanding of what you have done, and be a better man for your years without freedom. That is all."
Dully, Jerry Rand was aware of the arms that went around him as he stumbled away from the chamber. Voices of condemnation crashed into his brain and the face of Councilor LeFarr leered into his. Slowly he went with the officers of the court and they took him into the dark tunnel that led across the court and into Earth's prison, Captolia.
IT was on the fifth day after Jerry Rand had entered the
underground prison that he first heard from the outside world. At
noon each day, he mingled with the other prisoners in the lighted
lobby of Captolia. From them he learned of Sheila Laughlin and
the course she had chosen to pursue. At first he could not
believe that the Irish girl had turned upon him. Yet, from the
guard that walked by his cell each hour, Rand managed to get the
whole story.
"This woman you talked of," the guard said. "She is real! She is on earth!"
Rand stood close to the bars, watching the dark, eager face of the man in uniform as he waited there, watching the reactions that crossed his prisoner's face.
"You're mad," Rand said but his heart was pounding inside him and for the first time Captolia seemed brighter and less frightening. "She would not dare let her presence be known."
"But she has," the guard insisted. "She is even now in the apartment of the High Judge and you are a free man. The High Judge is away, attending to that miserable rebellion business in the east. When he returns, his power will set you free. You will be acclaimed for what you have done. Councilor LeFarr has already approached the High Council for permission to remove from the girl's body certain atomic particles that he can use in his laboratory. The entire thing is a vast success."
"But I should be set free at once," Rand insisted. "The girl proves that my story is true."
The guard looked unhappy.
"You should be set free and acclaimed as a member in good standing of the High Council," he agreed. "Unfortunately no man has power to do this but the High Judge. He will return in five days, and then..."
That was all. Nothing Rand could say would set him free until the great sage returned. He knew this, and was silent. His mind asked innumerable questions about the girl. Questions that were answered slowly as he listened to the men about him.
THAT first day Rand learned little.
But he knew now that Sheila was alive, and strangely enough in the custody of the High Judge himself. From then on, Rand waited to be freed. Two days passed, then three, and again the guard stopped at his cell, and standing close to the bars said:
"Come here. I have something to show you."
"Show me the key to this filthy den," Rand said savagely. "That is news I could relish."
Still he listened and learned of Sheila's coming to the High Council. How she had appeared and been welcomed. She wasn't the Sheila Laughlin he had known. The picture he had procured from the guard convinced him of that.
"This girl is re-awakening the world of men," the informer said. "She has talked and sung and laughed her way into the hearts of us all. Her pictures have been thrown by radio-screen and paper into every corner of the world." Then in an awed voice, "She may become our queen and her power will be over us all."
When he had gone, Rand studied the picture he had tucked beneath the cloak of Captolia. It was Sheila, her body thrown carelessly across a couch of gold. Her breasts and hips were covered with tight cloth and her smile beckoned in a way that told him she was driving men wild with newly-awakened desires. Rand tried to understand her deserting him when he needed her most. He tried to justify this seduction of an entire world and somehow his heart was only made heavier and sadder with the attempt. Sheila Laughlin was lost to him forever, and even her own soul was lost. She, a single vibrant woman, had lost her body to a world that belonged entirely to men.
DURING the exercise hour, standing alone by the lobby wall,
Rand was suddenly startled by a familiar voice close to his
elbow. He pivoted about, facing the ruddy-faced Rad Wallace.
"Rad!" He felt suddenly alive. "How in thunder...?"
Wallace pushed him out of sight around a corner of the wall. Half crazy to know what was happening outside, Rand could hardly control himself.
"Jerry, I've got to talk fast," Wallace said. "I'll have to be out of here when you return to your cell. If I'm caught inside..."
Rand nodded.
"Go on," he urged. "Sheila? What has happened...?"
"Never mind about her," Wallace scowled. "Listen, LeFarr has arranged for your escape. He let me in here through the private tunnel. Only members of the High Council have keys."
"LeFarr?" Rand was bewildered.
"Right. Don't ask me why. He wants to get you out. He wants you to be ready in your cell at midnight. The guard will release you. You are to follow him and ask no questions."
"But LeFarr," Rand protested. "He's no friend of ours. There must be something wrong."
"You're darn right there is," Wallace agreed feverishly. "And he'll probably take the first chance he has to murder you. It's the only way out, and I'll be around when trouble pops."
"But why is he doing this?" Rand asked. "He's safe as long as I'm here. There is no advantage for him to free me."
Wallace's face was set in grim, hard lines.
"The High Judge will return soon, and his return will free you," he said. "But LeFarr needs you tonight. If you fail to do as he says, he may bring up the charge of you attacking his ship and have you thrown back in here. Once you are outside and the High Judge is here, you will be safe. If you follow LeFarr's instruction, we may be able to pin some charge on him. I have a feeling that he wants you to influence Sheila in some way, so that she will submit to his knife before the High Judge returns. If he does, we'll stall and find out just what he's after."
"Where is Sheila now?" Rand asked. "I've heard of what she has done."
"At the Sky Apartment," Wallace answered. "She's taken over the living quarters of the High Judge. Her word is the world's command to jump through a hoop. She has some plan but I can't figure it out."
"But I don't see what I can do," Rand said. "She failed me before the council. She has no feeling for me other than that which will better her position here."
"I'm not so sure," Wallace answered slowly. "I can't figure the girl out. The question is, will you escape or not?"
Rand felt suddenly disgusted with the part he had played in Sheila Laughlin's life. She had pretended affection for him. Had led him to believe...
"LeFarr has the key to some puzzle," Wallace was saying. "I think we can outwit him, once you are outside."
Somewhere on the far side of the lobby the cell warning bell crashed. Wallace grasped his hand firmly.
"I've got to get out of here fast," the old warrior said. "Tonight at twelve?"
"I'll be ready," Rand said mechanically.
He turned away and walked slowly toward the line of men who were returning to their cells.
AT eleven thirty the long cell block was dark and silent. The
moon crept through slitted windows, lighting Rand's cell with
long figures of silver. For minutes he sat at the edge of the
cot, wondering what he should do when the time came to meet
Sheila.
Try as he might, Rand couldn't figure out why LeFarr needed him. If Sheila Laughlin was in the Sky Apartment, why didn't LeFarr go to her and ask permission to proceed with his work? For a while Rand toyed with the idea that Sheila was using LeFarr to free him from Captolia. Then he realized that had it not been for Sheila, he would never have been here in the first place. No! Sheila Laughlin had a deeper plan. He gave up, shrugging his shoulders, and waited.
A stealthy movement came from the corridor outside. Rand stood up, waiting, hardly daring to breathe. A voice, hushed and guarded, came through the heavy door.
"Prisoner Rand?"
"Right!" Rand answered in a harsh whisper.
A key grated against steel and the door swung open. Rand could see the hunched, uniformed figure waiting just outside.
"Follow me!"
The guard's voice was low and gruff. They went silently along the black hall and into the main lobby. At the steps that led to the tunnel, the guard halted, putting a restraining hand on Rand's shoulder.
"The guard will pass in a minute."
He was familiar with every move that took place within the prison.
They crouched against the wall as footsteps approached. A dark shadow went by them, in the direction of the main gate.
"Now!"
He followed hurriedly and in a minute they were swallowed into the tunnel that led to the main chamber of the Council. Then Rand heard voices ahead of him and a torch flared up against the tunnel wall. Harrison LeFarr's voice spoke to him from beyond the glare of light, warm and friendly.
"Glad you made it, Rand," LeFarr said, and then to the guard who had helped Rand escape, "Back to your post. When they discover his escape, turn the case over to me. I'll protect you."
There was a hurried exchange of tinkling coins and the guard went back from whence he had come.
"Come quickly," LeFarr said. "The girl is in the Sky Apartment. We are to go there at once."
Warily Rand followed. They reached the door to the main chamber. It was deserted. Yet Rand felt sure that Rad Wallace was somewhere about. Almost across the great, empty hall Rand froze with a startled cry in his ears. It was Rad Wallace's voice hurtling down to him from the balcony.
"Duck, Jerry! They're on your neck!"
HE had been waiting for something like this. When action came,
Rand was ready. From the corner of his eye he saw three men swing
away from the balcony on long ropes that were tied somewhere
above. They came plummeting down toward him. At the same time,
LeFarr pivoted, ray gun thrust forward. His face was black with
hate.
Rand bent over suddenly and with all his strength sprang forward, tackling LeFarr at the waist. He was aware of the sudden sputter of a ray gun, a scream of pain as one of the men on the ropes fell headlong into the chairs behind him. The body was burned and broken as it hit.
As LeFarr went down with a loud grunt under Rand's onslaught, Rad Wallace grabbed the empty rope and slid down quickly. LeFarr's other men were on their feet, coming on the dead run.
LeFarr twisted and fought back savagely, trying to break Rand's hold on his waist. The ray gun had twisted and fallen from his limp fingers. Rand came from his knees with clenched fists. With unholy fury he sent a crashing blow into LeFarr's face. His hand ripped into soft flesh and came away red with blood. LeFarr fell backward with a groan, his cheek open and bleeding.
Twisting around, Rand found a ray gun full in his face. Wallace was busy with the third man who had swung from the rope.
Rand raised his arms slowly, waiting for a chance to break forward.
"I think we have had enough of this comedy of errors!"
The booming voice of the High Judge came from the empty rostrum. Wallace dropped the man in his heavy grasp and stood painfully erect. The gunman who covered Rand, dropped his weapon hurriedly, a look of fear crossing his face. They turned as one man, toward the dignified figure above them.
"It is well that I happened to return," the High Judge said quietly.
He held no weapon, yet his position was more deadly than a show of arms. No man dared question his rank. Now others, aroused by the shot, came from the rooms about the main chamber. Guards appeared from the tunnel and stood about the room, weapons drawn.
"I'm sorry," Rand said, but the High Judge held up a warning hand.
"We will adjourn to the Sky Apartment," he said. "What I have to say concerns only Councilor LeFarr, your man and yourself."
His voice was stern and yet the twinkle in his eye betrayed something in the favor of Jerry Rand.
"As you wish!" It was LeFarr, on his feet, face bleeding freely from Rand's blow. "We attempted to stop the escape of this prisoner. You arrived to assist us in the effort."
Was he mistaken, or did Rand see that twinkle again, hidden under the gray pouches that all but obscured the High Judge's deep set eyes?
They followed him toward the ela-flyer that shot skyward into the tower of the Council building.
Rad Wallace had been right. Sheila Laughlin had changed the apartment and herself since they had last met on the X10. The Sky Apartment had always been a great, simply-decorated place.
Now, as they entered, Rand saw the change that had taken place and it took his breath away. Sheila had left her mark on everything. This, then, was the home of the World Queen.
The ten great rooms had felt the touch of her hands and the color of her personality. They were furnished with rare fabrics and deep, comfortable furniture. Soft, translucent curtains covered every window with pastel blues. Deep blue rugs and gold furniture changed the sky apartment to a vast feminine dream- world. This, then, was the world of Sheila Laughlin. She had brought around her a setting to enhance her beauty and add to her own power.
"You are startled by the changes here," the High Judge smiled. "In a moment you will be even more surprised."
He clapped his old hands together and a servant appeared at his side.
"If the Earth girl will come now?" It was a half question.
THE servant bowed and went away through the drapes before one
of the curved doors. LeFarr sat down, wiping blood from his face.
Rand remained on his feet, hating what he was about to witness.
He heard Rad Wallace gasp with wonder and turned as Sheila
Laughlin came toward them. She had applied coloring to her cheeks
and face, as he had never seen before. Her body, slim and
vibrant, was clad in silvery cloth that swept to her sandaled
feet. At ever step, her hips swayed and glittered under the
silver stuff. Sheila's hair was combed out black and long with a
great rose worn at the crown.
"You asked me to come?" She went toward the High Judge, seemingly ignoring the others, and sat on the arm of his chair.
The High Judge coughed and a smile of delight parted his thin lips.
"I hoped you would come," he corrected gently. "We have a problem that must be discussed soon."
It was obvious to Rand that the girl held them all with her spell. Through her whims she had gained a place over the entire Council. He shuddered at the thought that she had tried to sway him in the same manner, only to turn against him when he needed her so badly.
Sheila turned slowly, deliberately, until their eyes met. She slipped from the chair and walked toward him, her eyes warm and perhaps slightly mocking. With a tiny hand on his shoulder she looked up into his face.
"It's Captain Rand," in mock surprise. "Where have you been?"
He drew away from her touch, feeling much like a small boy. She could have saved him from Captolia had she wished to do so.
"There must be two women on earth," Rand turned away from her and spoke deliberately to Rad Wallace. "This is not the woman who professed to enjoy my company."
"Don't be a fool," LeFarr shot at him, "The female creature is of many moods. We humor them all. Now it is necessary that we all work for a common good. Bury your petty differences and proceed with the discussion."
His words sent a shiver of fear through the girl. She seemed suddenly small and afraid against the background of the bigger things about her. She went close to the High Judge, seeking his protection.
The old man placed a fatherly arm around her waist.
"I think," he said slowly, "That a few explanations are necessary. I am ready to sit in judgment when they have been given."
"Wait a minute," Rad Wallace begged. "I'm just an onlooker here, but what's all the mystery?"
"There is no mystery," the High Judge said. "We are working at cross purposes. Harrison LeFarr wished to perform a delicate operation on this girl's body. We have been unable to convince her that it is necessary if she is to live here with us. The world has looked upon her and finds her pleasant, even necessary for its continued existence. For some reason best known to herself, the female has insisted upon first seeing Citizen Rand.
"Councilor LeFarr took the liberty of releasing Rand personally. His right to do so will be questioned in due time. For the present, the fact that Rand is here will suffice."
"I'll have no part in this business," Rand protested. "LeFarr released me only to kill me. The girl has shown her interest by letting me be thrown into Captolia when her appearance was enough to save me."
"You're a fool," LeFarr snapped. "You attempted to escape. Only my presence..."
RAD WALLACE'S face grew an angry red.
"I can blow that story wide open," he growled. "I paid your guard to turn evidence against you. You're in as deep as we are, LeFarr."
The High Judge had listened patiently. Now he raised a thin hand for silence.
"There is no need for this discussion of right and wrong," he said slowly. "Rand has proven that his story of the girl was the truth. He is here tonight and I was about to release him had Councilor LeFarr not been kind enough to do so himself. He will henceforth be a member of the Council for his great discovery and will be treated on the same level as Councilor LeFarr. All other charges against him are dropped."
He hesitated, and then, pointing a kindly accusing finger at Rand, went on.
"We will leave you alone with the girl. She will tell you things that I'm sure will change the entire situation."
Puzzled, and still hating Sheila for the things she had resorted to, Rand found himself alone with the girl. To his surprise, as the others left the room, her haughty pose vanished. She came to him suddenly and, putting her arms around his neck, started to cry softly. Her cheek against his, the warmth of her smoothly clad body brought back old thrills of desire. "I'm—I'm frightened!" she sobbed.
"I—I don't understand..."
"Oh! Golly, honey. I didn't turn rat on you. Slingo asked me to stay away from you the day of the Council meeting."
Rand stiffened.
"Slingo wouldn't do that," he said. "You were my only witness. You were the one thing that would convince them that I was justified in attacking LeFarr's dreadnaught."
"LeFarr!" She released her hold upon him and stepped back, eyes blazing. "LeFarr is the one reason I couldn't come. Jerry, can't you understand? LeFarr wants to take from me the necessary glands to manufacture women in his laboratories. If I had come then, he would have claimed me as public property and murdered me in cold blood. I had to wait."
She sat down abruptly on the long couch of gold. Her head bowed and her shoulders, bared by the light gown she wore, were bent forward in grief.
"Jerry, darling, I'm willing to play the game, but not for keeps. LeFarr intends to kill me and I'm afraid to die!"
"I'm willing to play the game, but not for keeps."
HER fear and her appeal to him left a strange feeling in
Rand's heart. If it were necessary for her to die that Earth's
population could once more be supplied with women, then it was
her duty to submit to LeFarr's knife. On the other hand, LeFarr
had no reason to care about her destiny. Rand knew that LeFarr's
partner, Rod Hamilton, had been constantly with LeFarr since they
had joined forces years before. Hamilton claimed that death was
never necessary when any animal went under the knife.
"I hadn't realized that LeFarr intended to sacrifice you." His voice was strangely harsh. "As a member of the Council, I could insist that he turn the actual operation over to another, equally competent man. LeFarr is our supreme creator. If he says..."
She stopped him, looking up suddenly, with tears flooding her soft eyes. At last she had found a single spark of compassion in the man. A single thread of hope to cling to.
"Do you want me to die?" she asked softly.
Rand's gaze wavered from her appealing expression, but his eyes were still suspicious and piercing.
"If it is necessary that you die to reinhabit Earth, the sacrifice would be a noble gesture," he admitted. "It is up to the Council to decide."
Sheila lifted her feet slowly to the full length of the divan and settled back full length against the soft cushions. Her face was suddenly soft and her lips parted slightly over white teeth.
"You kissed me once," she reminded him in a sleepy, resonant voice. "You liked me then."
"You were seeking to gain my sympathy for your own good," he stammered. "Even as you are now."
Sheila said nothing. In the depths of her heavy-lidded eyes something as old as the ages stirred the man who stood over her. He had walked toward the divan as though drawn mechanically by a power greater than himself.
"Say that you played upon my senses to gain the place of queen in my world," he said harshly. "Say that you cared nothing for my life and that you care nothing now ..."
She lifted a slim, bare arm and put her fingers on his arm. It was then that Rand forgot duty came first. There were things within him that no man could fight, even though he should have long ago forgotten the rich heritage of woman and the rise and fall of pulsating flesh.
SHEILA LAUGHLIN, in the hours that followed, made Rand realize
why she had been forced to desert him. Made him see why she had
slowly built up in the minds of men affection and love for what
she represented.
They sat across from each other, Rand listening eagerly, wanting to believe what she said and for the first time having complete faith in the girl's story.
"At first I was like a dead fish," she said. "Men looked at me and only noticed that I was different and that I was weak where they were strong. Through the papers and the radio-screen, I displayed my body, my voice, all the power that I could master. They started to grow interested in me. Jerry, it wasn't easy for me to create desire in the world. To make men love a woman when they have so long forgotten what women are."
"I'm sorry," Rand said humbly, "that I ever doubted you."
She smiled gently.
"You'll never doubt again," she said softly. "And I'll never again parade before anyone but you. Before, it was necessary if I were to grow important enough to live and to help you."
"You've done a fine job of it," he admitted.
She came to him, arms outstretched appealingly.
"Oh, Jerry," she begged, "you've got to keep LeFarr from killing me. If this man, Rod Hamilton, can perform the operation, I'm willing to take a chance. If the chances are fifty-fifty that I'll live, it's worth it. With LeFarr, I am no more than a rat, to be cut and tossed away."
Rand stood up, and if Sheila could have realized it fully, she would have made full confidence in the man she now faced.
"I am a member of the Council now," he said. "LeFarr won't touch you as long as I am alive. I'll fight and slug my way through every argument he cares to make, and you'll go under the knife of Hamilton or none at all."
"You won't forget that I'm yours and that you're to trust me?" she asked hesitantly. "If you let me down again..."
Rand drew her close to him.
"I can't give you up," he said huskily, "but I'll have to give others a chance to protect and love someone as precious as you are to me."
RAND'S fight to obtain Rod Hamilton for the actual operation
had succeeded. LeFarr was present and detailed himself to
supervise his partner's work. No fingers but Hamilton's would
probe the wound.
Rand had confidence that Hamilton would do his best. The scientist was a short, unbelievably fat little man, yet with fingers so long and slim that they seemed an entirely separate part of his body. His face wore its perpetually sober expression and the wrinkled skin around his pouchy eyes quivered slightly as he concentrated his gaze on the girl before him.
LeFarr's equipment had been hurriedly assembled under the glass dome of the Sky Apartment. Attendants were with Sheila, preparing her for the operation to come. To Rand, as he waited dry mouthed for the thing to take place, it all seemed like a crazy, impossible sacrifice.
Yet, as Sheila was wheeled under the bank of X-ray tubes, he realized that the thing must be done. A waiting world of men demanded it. Sheila's face was white and set with determination. The conditions under which the operation was to take place were sensational to the extreme. Photographers and radio-screen men waited in the outer hall for news. Radio-screens were focused on the table and every move would go to the screens across the world.
Racks and trays of instruments made their appearance. A group of assistants gathered about Sheila.
Rand stood a short distance away, behind a thin curtain of sprayed antiseptic. His eyes never left Sheila, and once, as she was going to sleep under gentle hands, she held two fingers aloft and crossed them. Rand wondered what strange fetish this would be.
The High Judge and LeFarr stood together. Their eyes were glued on Hamilton.
"You are ready?" The old man's eyes were misty with concern for the silent figure on the table.
Hamilton nodded. A strange silence came over the room. Outside, newsmen sensed the change and waited tensely, wondering what word would come from beyond the door. At Sheila Laughlin's head, a tube of ampra-red rose and fell slowly, indicating that her heart was working normally. Rand, watching the thin red line of life, tried to moisten his tongue and failed. Sweat stood out against his forehead.
"SCALPEL!" Hamilton's hand came down swiftly, smoothly against
yielding flesh. His fingers moved deftly and the men about him
crowded closer and listened as he shot quick, professional
commands at them. The ampra-red line continued to pump steadily
up and down. Then, hesitating, it seemed to jerk and waver as
Sheila's body felt the first shock of the knife.
The minutes dragged by and Rand stood stiff and waiting. He stood on the border line of sanity, watching the one thing he treasured as it slipped away from him to the brink of death and then returned slowly as the ampra-red started to pump evenly once more.
This was no operation. It was new, even to the pudgy Hamilton. It was only a theory and no more.
Rand groaned as he realized that Sheila Laughlin had one chance in a thousand of waking from under the knife.
Rand watched Hamilton's hands as they darted about over the incision. Rand wanted to kill. To kill in cold blood every man responsible for this crime. Yet he dared not move to disturb them. His eyes traveled the circle of white faces and saw them silent under the strain. Every eye was glued to the girl on the table. Hamilton was cutting steadily, working as though the figure under his knife were cold meat.
Then suddenly, Rand had the feeling man gets when he finds faith in himself. He knew that it was over and Sheila would live. Hamilton straightened from his work and an attendant left the room carrying a precious container. Rand watched the ampra-red indicator and it started to pump up and down with quick jerks. He wanted to shout with joy. He went swiftly toward the table, standing a safe distance behind the High Judge.
Then Jerry Rand saw something that made his blood run cold with horror. Harrison LeFarr, waiting at Hamilton's elbow, suddenly drew a long, wicked knife from his cloak. This was no knife of mercy, but a broad blade used only to kill. Rand tried to shout a warning, but LeFarr was on the far side of the High Judge. The knife arose slowly and the others noticed what LeFarr was doing. Then, from the High Judge's cloak a ray-gun appeared. The old sage's voice arose clear and commanding above the murmur of voices.
"A fine job has been done, LeFarr. Move not to destroy it!"
The room came alive with excitement. Men's eyes were torn from the girl as they focused on the silent drama. Rand felt his own ray-gun in his hand. His fingers were cold and useless.
"Don't shoot, Councilor," he begged. "The blast from your gun will destroy the girl."
LeFarr turned slowly, knife upraised. His face was an expressionless mask but his lips moved.
"If you seek to kill me you will destroy the girl," he said. "I have kept my promise. The world will have women. I am no fool that I should wait with the others for what I rightfully should have now. If I cannot have this female, no one will. My life has become useless without her."
"You'll destroy yourself," Rand warned. "You haven't got nerve enough to come away from her protection and fight like a man."
LEFARR'S temper flared. His arm shot out suddenly and the
knife in his hand sped through the air at Rand's head. The
younger man jumped to one side and the weapon buried itself in
the wall. With a howl of anger LeFarr was upon him and they
crashed to the floor. Rand sent one terrific, hate-filled blow
into the man's body and sent him flying back. LeFarr's skull hit
the floor with a sickening crunch of bone and he lay still. His
neck was thrown to one side, twisted and broken. Blood from the
reopened wound on his face covered the carpet under his head.
Somehow Rand knew that Sheila was awake now. He went to her and put his strong fingers over her hand. She breathed more easily and a smile came over her pale face. The two fingers on her right hand were still tightly crossed.
"You've finished one job, once and for all," Rad Wallace said. "I never did like Councilor LeFarr."
IT was the morning of the tenth day after Sheila Laughlin had
given new hope and life to a world of men. Sheila and Jerry Rand
went quietly through the halls of Creative Laboratories. They
watched the men who were filling the test tubes of LeFarr's world
with germs of a new female population.
"Harrison LeFarr was a strange man," Rand said, as they emerged into the fountain-predominated court before the building. "He created worlds and held the skill to all surgery in his hands. Yet his own greed destroyed him."
Serious as the subject was which they were discussing, Sheila was so relieved with its outcome that a smile touched her lips.
"Am I worth being greedy over?" she asked.
Rand drew her down to the wide bench that circled the fountain and held her tightly.
"I'm a lucky fool to have you," he said simply. "But I'm sorry for the others who have to wait..."
"They've waited for five thousand years," Sheila answered softly. "I guess they can wait twenty years more. Besides, aren't you the one who brought me here?"
He grinned.
"I did, but for a while I thought I'd lost you."
"And I felt like the headline attraction of a burlesque show," she admitted. "I had to show them my body to convince them I was worth having around. I didn't have much choice."
They were silent, hands entwined, listening to the soft flow of water from the fountain.
"How does it feel, this being mother of a million baby girls?" Rand asked.
Sheila blushed.
"I'll admit it's the easiest thing I've ever tackled," she said.
Rand drew her to him tightly and kissed her lips. Her body was fragrant and warm against him. They forgot the bright sun that lighted the court around them.
"In spite of it all," Sheila managed to say between kisses, "I still think the old ways are best."