Children of Tomorrow (25 page)

As he reached that point in his reaction, it occurred to him that the other’s dialogue and attitude, as well as tone of voice, did not match such purpose. Instantly, Lane’s bewilderment returned. But unerringly his attention went back to the key word. ‘Club?
’
He said it this time in a much stronger, and even more questioning tone.

‘Oh!’ said the older man. ‘We club members get every posted name, and contact the individual so that he’ll know there are other persons with the same ideas that he has.’ He shrugged. ‘I was posted seven years ago, and I’ve got one daughter to go two years ... well, one and a half now.’

A dazzling light was dawning. Lane said, ‘Well, I’ll be damned.’ He stood there; then: ‘Obviously,’ he said, ‘I should have guessed I was not alone.’ Once more, a pause. He could feel the sense of pleasure growing through his body. Finally, with a smile, ‘What do we club members do?’ he asked.

‘We give moral support to each other.’

‘And how many of we are there?’ said Lane.

The long, thin face in front of him acquired a kind of disgusted look. ‘Commander,’ Mijnalen said in a critical tone, ‘you wouldn’t think that in a city like Spaceport, presumably filled with brave men, there would be so many chickens. But the fact is, the battle is probably lost in the bedroom at home. It’s a little difficult to spend year after year making love to a woman whose muscles are slightly contracted, pulling her away from you in disapproval of your point of view.’

The smile had faded from Lane’s face, as these words were spoken. Now, he scowled, remembering Estelle’s muscles doing exactly that. ‘Okay,’ he said bluntly, ‘let’s have it. What is the club’s hard core membership?’

^£
3t averages about two hundred and fifty.’

Lane was visibly shocked. His brows drew together in a startled frown. ‘In a city with 400,000 families?’ he said. ‘Good God!’ ‘This is an outfit-oriented city,’ said the older officer. ‘Knuckle under, sir - or join the club.’

Lane’s jaws tightened. Even his body grew harder. Tm in right now,’ he said grimly.

Mijnalen held out his hand. ‘Call me any time you want information. I just thought I’d drop by and brief you on our organisation. Anything you want to know right now?’

Lane shook his head. The thought had already crossed his mind that this man would be able to tell him what the consequences were of an outfit facing. But the truth was, he was slightly unhappy with himself for having gone into a situation without knowing what it might lead to. Other people
could
have the reaction that a fleet commander ought to have considered such matters. In the present stress circumstances, accordingly, it would be unwise to have any more doubts about his competence creep into the minds of the Committee members. They were being irrational enough as it was.

As he shook hands with Mijnalen, Lane said,
‘
You seem to be doing all right - after seven years.’

‘Never felt healthier in my life,’ was the reply.

It seemed an odd remark, but Lane did not pursue the matter. He stood watching as the older man went out of the door, and closed it behind him. Then he sat down again. In a few moments he was busy with the innumerable details of an administrative officer. His impression, of course, was that the pile of papers in front of him never really diminished.

About three thirty that afternoon, a disturbed-sounding woman’s voice was on the phone to Outfit Central. The voice identified itself to the Police Sergeant on the incoming-call desk as Mrs Len Jaeger. In a hushed voice, Mrs Jaeger said, ‘I’ve sneaked off to make this call. My husband has just forbidden our boy, Bud, to leave the house for any reason for the next day or so until we move out of town some time this week.’

The sergeant asked quickly, ‘Is he threatening the boy with violence.’

“Yes.’

Has there been any violence yet?’

‘No. Bud is not resisting. I report this matter because he has outfit duties, and of course should go to school tomorrow.’

“What outfit does he belong to?’

‘To the Red Cats, Will you tell them that - ’ The voice ceased. There was a sharp inhalation of breath. Then: ‘Good-bye!’ A click of disconnection followed.

The police officer hung up also, and made a notation on a chart in front of him. He used a red marking pencil. And it was noticeable on the chart that there were several other notations in red clustered around the space in which he was entering the new symbols.

Seeing these, the man looked up and beckoned another officer at a nearby desk. ‘Take a look at this, Dan.’

The other man came over, and studied the chart where the sergeant’s finger was pointing. ‘This isn’t a good week for the Red Cats, is it?’ he commented finally.

The man at the Incoming Call desk looked worried. ‘I’m afraid those kids may not be able to handle this much trouble.’

Estelle put dinner on a table set for two, and then seated herself opposite her husband. While he ate, she barely nibbled at what was on her plate. Finally:
‘You’ll be glad to know,’ she said, ‘that I laid in a week’s supply of your favorite foodstuffs, and three cartons of cigarettes.’

The handsome, determined man who sat across the glittering dining room table from her, paused in his eating. He sat for a long moment, knife and fork poised. ‘Say that again,’ he said. His brows were knit.

‘I anticipated,’ said his wife, ‘and stocked up this morning with seven days of the things you like to eat.’ She stopped, and corrected herself. ‘That is, the things you used to like to eat, as I dimly recall them from a decade ago.’

Lane now put the fork and knife deliberately down into his plate, and stared at his wife. ‘For a normally brilliant conversationalist,’ he said, ‘that set of statements leaves me gasping - I won’t say with total admiration.’

“You mean, you don’t know?’ Her eyes were bright. She almost breathed the words.

‘Know what?’ Lane was beginning to lose his short temper. He sounded exasperated.

‘You must have been faced,’ she said. ‘They wouldn’t have done it without facing you first.’

It was the unexpected remark. The possibility that her dialogue could be related to the outfits, had literally not occurred to him. The surprise of it brought a reaction. His face suddenly felt hot, and he realised with horror that a blush of shame undoubtedly suffused his cheeks.

‘You’ve become brick-red,’ remorselessly said the woman, who sat opposite him. ‘That justifies me in making a shrewd guess. It happened last night just before that outburst of supersanity. Am I right?’

The man hesitated. An outright lie was almost impossible for him. So at this point he made his first admission. ‘There was some gang of kids waiting outside.’ He spoke the words with exactly the right casual indifference. ‘I paid no attention to what they were jabbering at me. Are you implying that what you’re talking about is related to that?’

'You were faced,’ she said. ‘And so you’ll be on a restricted diet as soon as our current food supply r
uns
out. And no more cigarettes.’

‘I’ll drink your coffee as a subsitute,’ her husband said with an effort at facetiousness, ‘for the cigarettes.’

‘No more coffee either/ was the reply. ‘It’s considered unhealthy.

Lane stroked his jaw. It was a stereotype of his whenever he straggled with rage. And he was struggling now. ‘Are you telling me,’ he said finally in a dangerous tone, ‘that the food outlets of Spaceport co-operate with the outfits in a system of deprivation- of-food blackmail?’

‘It’s not exactly deprivation,’ Estelle explained carefully. ^You’re allowed a logical diet for men of your category. Your type normally die of heart attacks or strokes. Most such persons lack the willpower to eat right and stop smoking. The outfits put you on essential vitamins, minerals, and proteins. You’re liable to lose a little weight. And meals don’t taste as good, but you probably live longer.’

The man was momentarily bemused. His anger receded before a memory. ‘So that’s what that fellow, Mijnalen, was talking about today.’ His eyes pointed off to one side, thoughtfully. ‘I’ll be damned.’ He nodded grimly. ‘Okay. So I’m on bread and water. What happens to you and Susan?’

‘
We can eat in restaurants, but we probably won’t.’ She studied him with suddenly narrowed gaze. ‘I can see some scheme is forming in your mind. Your eyes have changed, and have that cunning look in them.’

‘For heaven’s sake, Estelle!’ Lane exploded. He stopped, and sat there in visibly total frustration. Yet he v/as finally able to say, ‘I’m considering how I can deal with a criminal conspiracy without removing my attention from more important matters. Not right now, but it seems to me that later on we could buy our groceries outside of Spaceport, and bring them in.’

She shook her head, eyes bright. ‘They would be confiscated at the port of Entry.’

‘You’re not serious?’ He was actually astounded.

‘Outfits are official,’ the blonde woman said. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. But nobody can talk to John Lane about anything he’s made up his mind on.’

The man scarcely heard her last words. He was thinking again, and he said with a shrug, ‘It’s simple. Once or twice a week, I take a trip outside, and eat a decent meal in a restaurant.’ He stared at her belligerently. ‘Don’t tell me that’s forbidden too?’ His wife sighed. ‘Once you’re listed,’ she said, ‘you have to have a legitimate reason for going outside Spaceport.’ Seeing the incipient thunder on his face, she ventured, ‘As the senior,fleet commander, you can probably assign yourself reasons for going outside that no one will question.’ She broke off. ‘Though to tell you the truth, I can’t quite visualise you, an honest man, putting out a series of false mission orders for yourself.’

The realisation of that was also in the man’s face. He said gruffly, ‘I could probably do it for a good cause.’

The rest of the meal was eaten in relative silence. The woman mostly stared at the wall a few feet behind her husband’s head. The man gazed rigidly down at his plate. Once, when he looked up, there was an expression on his wife’s face that was suspiciously similar to a smile. It vanished when she caught his gaze on her.

But near the end of the dinner, there it was again. And this time, when she saw that he was staring at her with disapproval, she suddenly started to laugh. She was still laughing hysterically when the man put his knife and fork down. A minute later, her laughter was wilder - and uncontrollable. The man’s irritation- reaction transformed abruptly to anxiety. He jumped to his feet, and hurried around the table; and drew her body against his. Held her there, and squeezed the muscles that she could not control.

That did it. She grew calm, and sagged against him, exhausted.

Yet, when she could speak, she said in a muffled voice, ‘The old booter has got his comeuppance - that’s what suddenly seemed so funny.’

Lane found his voice. ‘So now you can see how ridiculous the whole business is.’

From the region of his upper chest came the same muffled voice: ‘I can’t help feeling that they got the right man- Sorry, darling, but that’s my truth.’

The man released himself from her, and stepped back. ‘I’d better sleep in the spare room again tonight. Evidently, I don’t have a wife right now in any real meaning of the term,’ He spoke grimly.

The woman’s blue eyes had mist in them, and the grief was back in her voice as she said, ‘I gather that a good little wife should stand by and watch her daughter destroyed - is that your view of the loyal little woman?’

Lane threw up his hands. ‘You’re to much for me,’ he muttered. ‘I’ll see you in the morning. Everything is coming to a crisis, and I feel exhausted. I’m sure I could use a little extra sleep.’

He turned, and walked rapidly to the door that led to the magnificen
tl
y furnished living room, and so across to the hallway and the spare bedroom. A distant door closed.

A depressed Estelle-began to stack the dishes in the dishwasher when the phone rang. It was Lee David. ‘I’m sorry, Lee,’ said the woman, ‘I don’t know what’s going to happen. She seemed more cheerful today.’

At his end, sitting in the living room of his mother’s apartment, Lee wanted to know if Susan would be at school the next day. When he received a negative reply, he said, ‘Tell her that the way out of even a false situation is to be a good outfitter. WiU you do that?’

‘I’ll tell her,’ said Susan’s mother in a lackluster voice.

Lee replaced the receiver, and then phoned Mike. The phone rang in Mike’s deserted room, and simultaneously on an instrument on Mike's wrist, where he stood with three other boys near the Jaeger home talking to Mrs Jaeger,

Mike pressed the button, and held the tiny phone extension up to his mouth. ‘Mike Sutter,’ he said. ‘Lee,’ was the reply, clear and loud. Mike said, ‘Lee, Mrs Jaeger has come out, and we’re explaining the rules to her about people moving out of the city. I’ve told her that Bud has to be free to go to school tomorrow, and that we’ll be here at seven thirty to check him out. She’s promised to tell all this to her husband, and to help us in every way that she can,’

Lee said, “Well, I think that’s all we need to do this evening. So you and the others can go home. Sack?’-

‘Sack,’ said Mike.