"Mr. Blacker?" she smiled. "I'm Dora, Mr. Wright's secretary. Mr. Wright wants to know if you'll stop in to see him."
"Wright?" Tom said blankly.
"The treasurer2. His office is just down the hall. He's very anxious to see you, something about the expense sheets you turned in last week."
Tom frowned. "Why don't I see him in the morning?"
"It won't take but a minute."
"All right."
He sighed, picked up the brief case, and followed Dora outside. She showed him the door of an office some thirty paces from his own, and he entered without knocking.
A frail3 man, with a bald head and a squiggly moustache, stood up behind his desk.
"Oh, dear," he said nervously4. "I'm terribly sorry to do this, Mr. Blacker. But I have my instructions."
"Do what?"
"Oh, dear," Mr. Wright said again.
He took the gun that was lying in his out-box, and fired it. His trembling hand sent the bullet spanging into the wooden frame of the door. Tom dropped to the thick carpet, and then scrambled5 to the tall credenza set against the right wall of the office. He shoved it aside with his left hand and ducked behind it. The treasurer came out from behind his desk, still muttering to himself.
"Please," he said in anguish6, "this is very painful for me!"
He fired the gun again, and the bullet tore a white hole in the wall above Tom's head.
"Don't be so difficult," the little man pleaded. "Sooner or later—"
But Tom insisted upon being difficult. His fingers closed around a loose volume of New York State Tax Laws, and jiggled it in readiness. When the little treasurer came closer, he sprung from hiding and hurled7 the book. It slammed against Wright's side, and surprised him enough to send the arm holding the weapon into the air. That was the advantage Tom wanted. He leaped in a low-flying tackle, and brought Wright to the carpet. Then he was on top of the little man, grappling for the gun. Tom fought hard to get the gun.
He got it, but not before it was fired again.
Tom looked down at the widening stain that was marring the smooth texture8 of the carpet and was horrified9. He bent10 down over the frail figure, lifting the bald head in his hands.
"Mr. Wright!"
The treasurer groaned11. "Sorry," he said. "Instructions, Mr. Blacker ..."
"From whom? Andrusco?"
"Yes ... Your message reported from switchboard ... had orders ..."
"Is it true?" Tom said frantically12. "About Antamunda? Is the story true?"
The little man nodded. Then he lifted one hand feebly towards the desk. "Gary," he said. "Tell Gary ..."
Tom looked in the direction of the gesture, and saw the back of a framed photograph.
When he turned to the treasurer again, the thin lips had stopped moving.
He lowered the body to the floor and went to the desk. The photo was that of a young man with stiff-bristled blond hair and a rugged13 smile. The inscription14 read:
"To Pop, with deep affection, Gary."
Tom shook his head, wonderingly. Were these creatures so very different?
When Tom stepped out on Fifth-Madison some ten minutes later, it was just in time to watch a police vehicle draw up to the entrance of 320. Sensing danger, he stepped into the shade of the Tuscany Bar awning15, and watched the uniformed men pound their way down the marbled lobby floor towards the elevators. He thought fast, and decided16 that the arrival of the police was connected with the shooting in Wright's office.
The question was—who were they after?
He walked into the Tuscany, and headed for the bank of visiphone booths. He dialed the police commissioner17, but ducked out of the path of the visiphone eye.
Stinson growled18 at the blank screen. "Who is it?"
"Never mind," Tom said, muffling19 his voice. "But if you want the killers20 of Walt Spencer and his wife, pick up John Andrusco and a gal21 named Livia Cord."
"Okay, Blacker," Stinson thundered. "I knew you'd be calling in."
Tom swore, and showed himself. "Listen, I'm telling you the truth. They told me the whole story. Then they tried to have me killed."
"Is that so? And I suppose the assassin was a guy named Wright?"
"Yes!"
"Okay, wise guy. We're on to you. You've been pocketing some of that Homelovers dough22, and the treasurer found you out. Isn't that the story?"
"No! Wright's one of them."
"Sure, pal23. Whatever you say. Only stay right where you are so you can do your explaining proper."
Tom tightened24 his lips. "Uh-huh. I don't like the sound of things. I'll see you later, Mr. Stinson."
"Blacker!"
Tom switched off.
By the time he was settled behind the red neck of a cab-driver, Tom was wiping a dripping film of sweat from his forehead. He couldn't return to his apartment; there was bound to be a stake-out. He couldn't go to Livia's; that would be walking right into danger. And he couldn't go to Stinson, without risking a murder charge.
He leaned forward.
"Driver—make that the LaGuardia Heliport."
However efficient Stinson's operations might have been, their tentacles25 hadn't reached the 'copter-rental station at the heliport. Tom signed out a speedy vessel26 under an assumed name, and taxied it down the runway. Then he pointed27 the nose west, and radioed ahead to his destination at Washington, D. C.
Colonel Grady Mordigan had the thoughtful air of a scholar and the body of a college wrestler28. When Tom Blacker's name was announced to him, his mouth turned down grimly. He was commanding officer of the Space Flight Commission of the UN Air Force, and he had good reason to frown at the sound of the PR man's name.
But he invited him into his office.
"So you're Tom Blacker," he said, pinching his jaw29. "I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Blacker."
"I'm sure," Tom said. "Only I want to tell you this, Colonel. I've broken my connection with Homelovers. I'm on your side now."
"Side? There are no sides in this issue, Mr. Blacker. As far as I'm concerned, Homelovers is nothing but a flea30 on the lip of a lion. A damned annoying flea, maybe—but nothing more than that. Now what do you want?"
"I have to talk to you about something. Something I just found out. Will you listen to me?"
The colonel leaned back, looking at his watch.
"Five minutes," he snapped.
Tom talked for fifteen. Mordigan didn't call a halt until he was finished, listening without a change of expression. When Tom ran out of words, he merely tapped his fingers on the desk.
"And that's your whole story?" he said gently.
"Yes, sir. I know it's a wild one. That's one of the things they're counting on. It's just wild enough to get me put into a laughing academy, where I can't do them any mischief31. But I had to take that chance, Colonel."
"I see. And this—man you killed. What's happening about that?"
"I don't know," Tom said. "The way I figure it, Andrusco and the girl have told the police that I was embezzling32 money from the firm—that I killed the treasurer for my own protection. But it's not true! He's one of them—one of those creatures—"
"But you have no real proof?"
Tom's back stiffened33. "No," he said grimly. "If I had proof, I'd have gone to the police. But I came here instead. Now you can tell me if I did the right thing."
Mordigan grimaced34. "I don't know, damn it! I don't have any love for the Homelovers. To me, they've always been a bunch of greedy businessmen, intent on salvaging35 their franchises36 at any expense. But it's not easy to think of them as a bunch of—" His mouth twisted. "Loathsome37 aliens ..."
"Maybe not so loathsome," Tom said miserably38. "I just don't know. Maybe their cause is as just to them as ours is to us. But they're determined39 to reach Mars before we do—before you do! And they'll do anything to make sure—"
The colonel stood up. "But I'm afraid that question is academic, Mr. Blacker. Because if our calculations are right, an Earth vessel will be on the planet Mars within the next thirty-six hours."
"What?"
"No announcement has been made. But a Mars-bound ship was launched almost a month ago, containing seven members of the space commission. Our last radio contact with Captain Wright leads us to expect—"
"Who?" Tom was on his feet.
"Captain Gary Wright, the commander of the ship." His brow knitted. "Why? Do you know him?"
"I'm not sure," Tom said weakly. "But if he's the same man—then that flight's in danger."
"What are you talking about?"
Tom concluded his story about the death of the Homelovers treasurer, down to the last detail of the framed photograph on Wright's desk. The tale brought Colonel Mordigan into immediate40 action. He buzzed for his orderly, and in another minute, was fumbling41 through a folder42 marked Classified.
"Yes," he said numbly43. "It's the same man. Father's named Benjamin Wright, and he's vice-president and treasurer of Homelovers, Incorporated. I never connected the two ..." He looked up, his eyes heavy. "If your story is true, Mr. Blacker, then Captain Wright is one of these so-called Antamundans. And if their mission is what you say it is—"
Tom clenched44 his fists on the blotter. "Please, sir! Let me stay here until the flight is concluded. After that, you can do what you like."
"All right," Mordigan said wearily. "I'll fix you up with something in the officer's quarters. But I'm sure you're wrong, Mr. Blacker. You have to be."
Twenty-four hours later, radio contact with the Mars expeditionary ship ceased abruptly45.
From Mt. Wilson observatory46, a hurried message arrived, reporting a small, brief nova in the orbital vicinity of the planet Mars.
Tom Blacker, dozing47 fitfully on a cot in the quarters of a grumpy Lieutenant-Colonel, was awakened48 suddenly, and summoned to the office of Colonel Grady Mordigan.
"Very well, Mr. Blacker," the colonel said stiffly. "I'm willing to help. Just tell me what you want me to do."
The receptionist smiled icily at Tom, and then the smile vanished like a Martian polar cap.
"Why—Mr. Blacker!"
"Hi, Stella," he grinned. "Mr. Andrusco in his office?"
"Why, I don't know. Suppose I give him a ring—"
He stopped the hand that was reaching for the telephone. "No need of that. I think I'll just surprise him. After all, it's been some time."
He turned the knob of John Andrusco's door slowly.
Livia was with him. When he entered, they both stood up hastily, their eyes wide and their mouths unhinged.
Livia reacted first. She cried out his name, and then sat down heavily, as if the words had been a physical force.
"Hi, Livia," Tom said casually49. "Good to see you again, Mr. Andrusco. Sorry that I haven't been around—but things have been pretty hectic50 for me lately."
"How did you get here?" Andrusco's voice was choked.
"I've been here all weekend, if you want to know." Tom seated himself blithely51. "As a matter of fact, the Homelovers Building has had quite a lot of visitors this weekend."
"What do you mean?"
"You know the staff of cleaning personnel that invades this place every Saturday? Well, there were some changes made this particular weekend. I'm sure you'll be interested in hearing about them."
Livia said: "Shall I call the police, John?"
"The police were represented," Tom said. "Don't worry about that. In fact, the top technicians from three government agencies were doing the housework around here this weekend, Mr. Andrusco. They probably didn't get the building much cleaner—but they swept up a lot of other things. Yes, they certainly uncovered other things."
Andrusco walked over to Livia, and touched her shoulder in a comforting gesture. The sight of them made Tom scowl52.
"All right!" he said roughly. "I'm not blaming you for what you're doing. But things were getting out of hand, Mr. Andrusco. That's why we had to put a stop to it."
"And have you?" Andrusco asked politely.
"I'm afraid so. It was quite a shock, let me tell you. We didn't know what to expect when we dissected53 this building of yours. But the last thing we expected to find was—a spaceship."
Andrusco smiled. "It was cleverly done. You'll have to admit that."
"I do," Tom said fervently54. "You've got those space flight experts absolutely insane with curiosity. They'll want to hear the whole story. Will you give it to them?"
The man shrugged55. "It doesn't matter, I suppose. I presume the engines have been dismantled56?"
"Made inoperable, yes. It would have been a great trick, if you could have done it."
Livia spoke57 sadly. "It was the only thing we could have done. There's no place on this Earth where we could have erected58 a spaceship without being observed. So we created this building. In time, we would have perfected the mechanism59 and left this silly planet of yours."
"That's what I don't understand," Tom said. "What about Antamunda—and the survivors—"
"There's no longer an Antamunda," John Andrusco said hollowly. "The story we told you was true in its essence, but not, I'm afraid complete. You see, the exodus60 that took place five hundred years ago was a total exodus. The entire population of our world—a handful, a pitiful ragged61 thousand—left Antamunda for this planet. We thought to make it our new home, for all eternity62. But in time, we learned that we had emigrated to an extinction63 just as certain."
"What do you mean?"
"This world is cursed to us, Mr. Blacker. I can't tell you why. We breed slowly, infrequently—you might even say, thoughtfully. And on your planet, but one child in a thousand has survived the rigors64 of childbirth on Earth." He looked at Livia, and the woman lowered her eyes in remembered sorrow.
"That's why we had to leave," Andrusco said. "To repopulate elsewhere. We chose the planet Mars, and we were determined to make it our home before your world claimed it. Our scientists and technicians have worked on nothing else but this flight since the beginning of the last century. This building—this vessel—was the culmination65 of our plans. In another few years, we would have been ready. The dream would have been realized."
Tom walked to the window of the office, and looked out at a bank of swift-moving clouds drifting past the spire66 of the Homelovers Building.
"I'm afraid that's the saddest part," he said. "The atomic engines in the basement have been examined, Mr. Andrusco. The best opinions say that they're pitifully inadequate67. The men who studied them say that you would never have made the journey in safety."
"That can't be true! In time—"
"In time, perhaps. But since your landing here, your scientists have forgotten a great deal about space flight. I'm afraid you would have never reached that Promised Land ..."
Andrusco said: "Then we must die ..."
"No!" Tom said.
Livia looked at him.
"I said no!" he repeated. "The Antamundans can live. Don't you see that?"
"No," Andrusco said, shaking his head. "On Earth, we shall die. If Mars is closed to us ..."
"Can't you see? If Mars can be opened for Earth, then it can be opened for you, too. For all Antamundans! Your people can make the journey, too, once space has been cleared for Earth ships. You can still have your new home!"
"Perhaps," Livia said dreamily. "Perhaps that is the only way. But by then, Tom, it will be already too late. There has been no living child born to us in the last ten years. By the time the Earth people reach Mars and establish regular passageway—we will be too old to keep the race alive."
"Then let's speed it up!" he said. "Let's make sure that the space lanes open! Let's do everything to make Space the most important project on Earth!"
"But how?" Andrusco said, bewildered.
Tom went to the visiphone.
"Get me the Lunt Theatre!" he snapped.
Homer Bradshaw's face appeared.
"Mr. Bradshaw?"
"Hi, Tom! How's the boy?"
"Great, Homer, great. Only listen. I got a new angle for you. We're gonna doctor up that show of yours before the opening. Don't worry about the dough— Homelovers will take care of it with pleasure."
"Sure, Tom! Anything you say!"
"Then take this down. The first thing we're changing is the title. From now on it's Mars Or Bust68 ..."
THE END
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1
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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treasurer
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| n.司库，财务主管 | |
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frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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hurled
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| v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的过去式和过去分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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texture
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| n.(织物)质地；(材料)构造；结构；肌理 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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awning
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| n.遮阳篷；雨篷 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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muffling
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| v.压抑，捂住( muffle的现在分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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killers
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| 凶手( killer的名词复数 )； 消灭…者； 致命物； 极难的事 | |
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gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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tentacles
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| n.触手( tentacle的名词复数 )；触角；触须；触毛 | |
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vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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wrestler
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| n.摔角选手，扭 | |
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jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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flea
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mischief
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embezzling
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stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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grimaced
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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salvaging
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franchises
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| n.（尤指选举议员的）选举权( franchise的名词复数 )；参政权；获特许权的商业机构（或服务）；（公司授予的）特许经销权v.给…以特许权，出售特许权( franchise的第三人称单数 ) | |
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loathsome
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miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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folder
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| n.纸夹，文件夹 | |
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numbly
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| adv.失去知觉，麻木 | |
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clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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observatory
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| n.天文台，气象台，瞭望台，观测台 | |
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dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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hectic
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| adj.肺病的；消耗热的；发热的；闹哄哄的 | |
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blithely
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| adv.欢乐地，快活地，无挂虑地 | |
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scowl
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| vi.(at)生气地皱眉，沉下脸，怒视；n.怒容 | |
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dissected
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| adj.切开的，分割的，（叶子）多裂的v.解剖（动物等）( dissect的过去式和过去分词 )；仔细分析或研究 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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dismantled
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| 拆开( dismantle的过去式和过去分词 )； 拆卸； 废除； 取消 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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exodus
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| v.大批离去，成群外出 | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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63
extinction
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| n.熄灭，消亡，消灭，灭绝，绝种 | |
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rigors
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| 严格( rigor的名词复数 )； 严酷； 严密； （由惊吓或中毒等导致的身体）僵直 | |
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culmination
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| n.顶点；最高潮 | |
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spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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67
inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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