Children of Tomorrow (12 page)
‘It never was anything. Which is why I made it good-bye. So I hope you’ll forget what you saw.’
He sounded the faintest bit anxious, and the sullen little brunette showed by the tilt of her shoulder that she considered that negotiation time had arrived. She said airily, ‘I remember or forget things, depending on the way I feel.’
Sennes persisted. ‘I would like you to feel like forgetting it,’ he said.
Dolores’s immediate answer was to turn away from him and start walking along the street. When she had gone only a few steps, she looked back in simulated surprise and said, ‘Aren’t you coming?’
It was an unnecessary question. The man had made up his mind - which is all that it ever took with him. In a moment he was beside her. Tentatively, he took her arm. When she did not pull away, he tightened this grip. ‘You’re a very beautiful girl,’
be said.
‘How do I rate beside Susan?’ she asked.
‘It all depends. Are you the unapproachable type of beauty, too?’
It was an attemp
t
to down-rate the value of what she had seen, and Dolores wasn’t having any. ‘Oh, come now,’ she said. 'Susan didn’t look unapproachable.’
‘I surprised her,’ said die experienced male beside her. He himself did not literally regard the statement as true. He had his own understanding of why girls could be surprised. He finished, now, honestly, in a sincere tone, ‘From Susan’s point of view, it was surprise.’
The girl beside him had a short attention span when it came to Susan Lane. And suddenly the moment of disinterest was upon her. Once more, she was her seductive best. “You don’t look like the type that surprises girls. You look steady
. . . and honest and aboveboard!
‘I think,’ said Sennes softly, 'we’re beginning to understand each other.’ Having spoken, he swung around in front of her, and in a continuation of the move drew Dolores into his arms and lip-kissed her. He drew back presently, and gazing down into the sultry eyes of the girl, said lightly, ‘See how surprising it can be.’-
Dolores, who had not resisted for a single instant, but being after all only a few kilominutes away from having been a good little jabber, herself, was breathless. In her brief months of total abandon, she had never had a man of this age and particularly one so handsome. She gasped, ‘I guess we do understand each other.’ It was a remark that merited another and longer kiss, and the officer was the man who could recognise that. This time when he drew away, Dolores said, ‘If I don’t tell on Susan, you’ll scrap her for me?’
‘The quieter you are,
5
was the reply, ‘the higher we’ll fly. After all, she’s my boss’s daughter. I don’t want him mad.’
The dark-haired girl was not looking at him. Her expression was thoughtful, and when she spoke it was partly to him and partly to herself. ‘If I were to report her, she’d probably talk herself out of it anyway, and then if anyone saw me with you, they’d think Susan and I were playing games. So, then, maybe they wouldn’t believe me,’
Sennes shook his head wonderingly. ‘Are you always this complicated?’
Dolores was slightly defensive.
‘
You gotta figure things,’ she said. ‘The outfits just gt> by what they see.’
Her eyes were still slightly narrowed, and she was clearly still
in process of figuring, and when he kissed her once more. And, now, when they drew apart, they were both breathless. Sennes said, ‘Look, honey ... all I want to know is, have we just made a bargain?’
The beautiful, sullen face was flushed. For the moment, all memory of Susan was wiped away from it. She was caught in the passion of man-woman stuff. Even the sophistication was gone from her. ‘Yes,’ she whispered, and it was a strangely pure sound. Suddenly, her whole body trusted him, and even begged him a little to treat it tenderly. Which, of course, he would do in his fashion.
Arms around each .other they walked rapidly to the monorail, and presently disappeared into it.
In the Lane house, Susan was fidgety all the time that she described the day to her mother. Presently, Estelle - who was genuinely weary from her long anxious day - stood up, kissed Susan good night. Your father won’t be home till late again,’ she said. ‘So it’s bedtime.’
‘I’ll be along in a minute,’ said the girl. ‘I want a drink.’ She thereupon made a thing out of the drink, and when she returned to the living room discovered that her mother had indeed gone off. Susan headed for the phone, and pushed the buttons that, moments later, produced the buzzing sound in the receiver, of a distant phone ringing. Aprupt
l
y there was a click, and Mike’s voice said, “Hello.’
‘Mike . . . Susan. Since you have your own phone, I thought I’d take the chance you were still up.’
Mike said, ‘Glad you called. We’ve got an emergency. Nothing for you to do, but you should be alerted. The fellows are going over to help Bud Jaeger against his father.’
‘Right now?’
‘Now. Now, what was it you wanted to say?’
It was no longer an ideal moment, but the unhappy girl braced herself, and said it anyway. ‘I have to tell you something, Mike,’ she confessed. ‘Tonight, when I came home, Captain Sennes lip- kissed me good-bye. It really was good-bye.’
There was a long pause at the other end. Then: ‘Sack,’ said Mike.
A click, as he hung up.
In
an elegant house not too far from where the Lanes lived, a man and a woman had gone to bed early and were sound asleep
as their phone rang. The man was evidently in the fourth (deep) stage of sleep, for it was the woman who finally groped for the receiver on the bedside table between the twin beds. She murmured an acknowledgement of the call, then listened for a long moment, and finally turned on the light. Which revealed her as being a rather pleasant-looking woman in her mid-thirties. It was impossible at this stage to make out the appearance of the man, because he was lying with his back to the light and his head was half-nestled in the sheet and the blanket.
By the time these facts became apparent, the woman had crawled out of her bed and was over at the other one shaking the man. It required several firm shoves, but finally he blinked and sat up. She watched him closely, and when she saw the light of reason begin to manifest in his face - which was that of a fairly good-looking man about forty - she said, ‘Arthur, you’re wanted as a witness for the outfit you sponsor.’
The man rubbed his eyes. Then he picked up his watch and looked at it. What he saw seemed to astonish him, for he said, “At this hour! Who’s on the phone?’'
‘Lee David.’
‘Oh - Lee.’ He was instantly more alert. His legs swung out from under the covers. He reached for and lifted the receiver with sudden purposefulness. Spoke into it in a firm voice: ‘What is it?’ Pause. ‘And what is the address?’ His wife had pen and paper for him at this point. He accepted the pen from her, and wrote on the paper while she held it. Finally: ‘Listen, Lee, I’ve got to get my clothes on. But I should be over in ten minutes. Meanwhile, do what’s necessary to protect the boy . . . Bud, what did you say his name was? . . . Sack, too.’ He replaced the receiver, climbed to his feet, and headed for the bathroom door.
As it developed, it took him longer to get dressed than he had estimated. It was actually almost ten minutes before he finally got out of the house.
The invisible
’
watcher made his jump over to the Jaeger house after his longest absence of the day, and found the male members of the Red Cat outfit were milling around in front of the gate.
Bud was there with them.
The observer noted that the door of the Jaeger house was closed, but the veranda and inside lights were on. However, it was difficult to determine what was going on inside.
What happened, son?
asked the father anxiously.
Before answering, Bud shuffled casually closer - away from the gate. Then:
Mr Jaeger stayed home tonight, and he seemed to be sober for a change. So he noticed my outfit badge for the first time. He got mad, and started to beat me up. That alarmed his wife - who, as Fve told you, knows what I've been doing - and she called the outfit. So the confrontation now has to take place. Which is too bad, because it really wasn’t a difficult situation. However, he's gone off to the corner bar, and we're going over there to face him.
Fm sorry I wasn't here to help you,
apologised his father.
It really wasn't serious,
said the son.
He hit me three times, and each time struck the hard - you know. It nearly broke his knuckles, so he stopped. Where were you?
Fve been jumping between the Lane home and the Desmond Reid home, with an occasional glance at the various takeoff hangars. We have a feeling important decisions are being made, and we should know where Lane, particularly, is every minute of the next few days. I thought you were safe in your room at home.
The telepathic communication ended as the observer saw that Lee David was coming along the street toward the little group of boys. He realised that the identity of the approaching figure was not as apparent to the others as to him, with his almost perfect night vision. They heard the rapid footsteps, and they peered into the shadows of the street in that direction. Suddenly, they also recognised who it was, for there was relief. Moments later, Lee joined them, and said, ‘Bud, you stay here. And when Mr Arthur Laurieux our witness, arrives, tell him where we’ve gone. Sack, Bud?’
“You mean, I can’t go along?’ The boy sounded disgruntled.
‘
I wanna see what you do.’
'Where possible,’ said Lee, obviously quoting, for his voice changed, ‘outfit members refrain from facing a parent in front of his children. Sack?’
‘Sack.’ Bud spoke reluctantly.
The blond leader of the Red Cats turned to the youthful outfitters. ‘Come on, jabbers.’ Without any additional comment, he started forward past Bud. Moments later, the other boys were also in motion. The group made a long, thin line on the sidewalk. The sound of their footsteps faded rapidly.
When they had gone, Bud telepathed to his father:
Why don't you follow them, and tell me afterwards what they did?
The invisible being there a few feet above the ground, in effect, shook his head ...
Not yet,
he replied.
Please be aware:
the crisis is here.
My only purpose with you is to protect you until a decision is made about your espionage mission on this planet. Except for protecting you, my principal task is to keep a watch on Lane. He is deemed to be a key figure, and his movements significant
,
So, wait here while I go to the Lane home and watch who comes on the next subsurface - they run every fifteen minutes — but sometimes it takes two and even three elevator loads to bring up all the passengers. I have to make sure that Lane is or is not on one of those loads. That takes about three minutes. And I usually allow a minute before and one after to take account of possible variations or emergency situations in the monorail schedule. It will therefore be five minutes before I can be over at the bar, and observe the developments there.
Be sure to go as soon as you can,
said his son.
Because Tm going to have to live with that man these next few days of the crisis period. Is that not so?
It is so. And I shall do my best,
replied the father.
Since in his invisible state he was only a projected image, he made the leap (as always) at the speed of thought. He remained his intended five minutes . . . still no Lane . . . and then he switched himself over to the street comer, near which was located the cocktail lounge that was a Len Jaeger hangout.
Though the time had seemed long to the unseen alien, he found that the boys had arrived at the bar only a minute before. And that Mike Sutter, with big Albert trailing him, had just gone into the building to ask Jaeger to step outside and talk to the outfit. He saw that all the boys were tense, but they were also determined. It was one of the quieter boys who must have voiced what was in everybody’s mind. He said, ‘I hope Mr Jaeger isn’t giving Mike a hard time.’ Unfortunately, that was exactly what was happening.
Mike, on entering, had found himself in a vestibule which, as he walked slowly forward trying to accustom his eyes to the dim light, opened into a typical bar situation with an electronic synthesiser and its craftsman at the far end. The music from the synthesiser was loud, and had everybody’s attention. Mike was thus able to walk the fifteen or so feet to the table where Jaeger was sitting with another bar habitue.
Stationing himself about five feet from the table, Mike waited until the music stopped. Then he called out, ‘Mr Jaeger.’ His was a youth’s voice but with a man’s courage in it. More impor-i tant, the words were spoken in a peremptory tone. What happened, then, was in a way too bad. Jaeger was taken by surprise, and he did a degrading thing. Somehow, the tone must have regressed him. He clearly took it for granted that he was in the presence of a superior, for he jerked in his chair, tried to get up,
was
in too awkward a position to do so, slumped back. But his body was at
a
kind of attention;
as
he uttered the words that ruined him, ‘Yes,
sir.
What is it, sir?’
At that
moment...
his eyes focused on Mike. And now, when it was too late, he realised that this was the person who had addressed him. Confusion. Understanding. Rage! Such a great rage that his hulking body stiffened again; and froze there while Mike said, ‘Mr Jaeger, the Red Cat outfit is outside, and respectfully requests that you come out and let us talk to you about your son, Bud.’
The words were visibly received as a new thought. Jaeger’s bloodshot blue eyes narrowed — and shifted - a little. An anxiety reaction. But there was too much anger in the man, too much mortification, for fear to make much headway. Yet the two emotions produced a temporary stability. Like a transuranian element with a half-life of a few seconds, this rough-mannered male human at last made his effort to deal with what had begun as a disgracing startled reaction.
And so, he leaned back in his chair like someone who had got his cool in hand. And he said above the music, which had started again: ‘Are you talking to me - kid?’ The question was in its entirety meant to lull. Because, having uttered it, he launched himself out of the chair at Mike.
Perhaps, if it had been brighter in the dim lit room, and faces thereby more clearly visible, Jaeger would have noticed that Mike was no ordinary boy. Would have noticed that he was being watched from narrowed, alert eyes - and noticed that strong, wiry. body. But it was not light enough. Or very possibly Len Jaeger was not, and never would be, able to appreciate the hopelessness of such an attack. Whatever the reason, he now experienced his second disaster.
When he got to where Mike had been, Mike wasn’t there. Worse, the man’s awkward body was so geared to make the seizure that when there was nothing in that space to hold onto - he lost his balance. Fell. Fell with such force that if he had been liquid, he would have splashed all over the room. As it was, he sort of — splattered. And it was not funny. It was a badly hurt Jaeger who fumbled dazedly to his feet, and in a condition of total berserkness charged after Mike. The youth had retreated to the vestibule entrance. Now, seeing the insane creature that was lumbering toward him, he gestured at Albert to open the door to the outside, Albert, who had been waiting right there, promptly did so.
It was not Jaeger’s day, evening, or night. For him it was already a quarter to midnight, in fact. And at this late, late moment, he had a memory lapse. There was a sign beside the door, which read, STEP UP. Undoubtedly, he had seen, and obeyed, that admonition on his previous visits to this cocktail lounge. Yet, now, he neither saw the sign, nor remembered that it was there. O why?
Disaster ... He tripped. He landed on his hands and knees on the concrete of the sidewalk beyond. It was a crash landing of a kind that can shake a man for days. Coming on top of what had already happened, it was too much. T
w
ice, he tried to get up. He couldn’t. He sank down on the sidewalk, and lay there in a condition of partial unconsciousness.
A small crowd was gathering. The outfitters who had waited outside, we re bewildered. Mike hastened to Lee, explained quickly what had happened, and said, ‘We’d better call an ambulance.’
At this point, Mr Laurieux and Bud arrived; and it was the man who phoned for the ambulance. In such a specialised city as Spaceport, with its great concentration of mechanical and energy assists to an enormous space program, the rescue services were tensely alert. The ambulance was there in four minutes.
Jaeger was beginning to stir, but not enough. He was expertly put onto a stretcher, loaded into the ambulance, and carried off into that temporary oblivion know as an emergency hospital. As these events progressed, Arthur Laurieux questioned people in the bar; and since no one had as yet considered the implications of the event, those who had witnessed the debacle sort of grinned as individuals tend to when someone slips on ice and nearly spills out his brains, and they told what had happened - and laughed at the moments of greatest calamity.
When he had the facts, the man took Lee and Mike with him; and the three went to one of the authorised substations of
'Outfit Central, and filed a report. In the report, Laurieux recommended that a charge of intent to harm be prepared against Jaeger - since his flying attack at Mike was clearly intended to capture with the obvious purpose of striking and hurting.
Such details required time. So it was not until after one a.m. that Mr Arthur Laurieux arrived back in the bedroom, undressed, and crawled back into his bed. His wife stirred as he turned out the light. ‘What happened?’ she asked, from the darkness across from him.
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,’ answered her husband,
‘
But I can sum the consequences up in one word: nothing.’
‘Two hours of nothing? she said incredulously.
It’s n
othing,’ he said. But the word had a slight snore in it. Which sound increased until it was very definitely something.
At about the same time, elsewhere in the city, Captain Peter Sennes entered his underground apartment. As he came in, he saw that the lights were still on. And that the lieutenant with whom he shared the accommodation was in bed but still awake and reading. Sennes relaxed down on his own twin bed, and began to undress. His companion finally looked up and said, ‘As you probably observed, after I got your phone call. I charged out of here at top speed,
‘Thanks,’ said Sennes.
‘I gather/ said the other, 'you made it with your little jabber, and brought her here for the crashing finale.’
The older man stretched, yawned contentedly, and then said with a faint smile, ‘I made it with
one
of my little jabbers.’
The friend considered that for a long moment. Finally, he shook his head admiringly, and commented, ‘I really don’t know how you do it. These female jabbers have mechanical hearts and a rule book in their hands, and besides if the outfit ever catch you jabber hunting - that’s the end, sir.’
Sennes was unconcerned. ‘I hit the jackpot tonight. Beautiful Dolores. As full of hate as a panther, and as soft as a kitten. As for Susan —
’
'I was wondering what happened to her.
’
Sennes was calm. ‘I gave her the good-bye routine tonight. I think she’ll come through for me, too.’ He disappeared into the bathroom with his clothes, and came out again in his pajamas.
The younger officer greeted him: “Why don’t you marry Susan?’
‘Don’t be an idiot,’ said Sennes rudely, without turning.
His friend urged, You could do worse that be married to the daughter of the great man.’
The captain climbed lazily into bed before answering. He said then, Tm an active flight officer, Harry. I’m hoping to go along on some of the great expeditions. It’s too hard on a woman to be left behind. They either go on the town - which I wouldn’t care about - or they endure being in the nest. Thank you, no.’
‘Susan is a cute kid,’ said Harry.
Sennes reached over and turned out the light beside his own bed. ‘They all are,’ he said casually.
