The Sentimentalists
* * * * *
”I get this guy to tell us how to make his gadgets,” the skipperexplained contemptuously. ”We make sure he tells us right. To be extrasure, we leave the gadgets he's got made and working back here, wherehe can't get to 'em and spoil 'em. But when we know all he knows--andwhat he only guesses, too, and my tame scientists have made the samekinda gadgets, an' they work--why, we come back and pick you up, andthe _thanar_ seed and the young growing plants. Then we get the gadgetsthis guy made here, and we head back for Earth.”
”But if you take the gadget that keeps us all from being burned up--”Carson said agitatedly, ”if you do, everybody here--”
”Won't that be too bad!” the skipper said ironically. ”But you won't behere. You'll be on the yacht. Don't worry. Now go fix it for the girland him to walk into our parlor.”
Carson's hand shook as he reached for the beamphone. His voice was notquite normal as he explained to Cathy in the exchange that the skipperof the space yacht had the legal power to perform marriage ceremoniesin space. And Carson, as a gesture of friendship to one of the mostprominent colonists, had asked if the captain would oblige Cathy andLon. The captain had agreed. If they made haste, he would take them outin space and marry them.
The skipper of the space yacht regarded him with undisguised scorn whenhe hung up the phone and mopped his face.
”Pretty girl, eh?” he asked contemptuously, ”and you didn't have thenerve to grab her for yourself?” He did not wait for an answer. ”I'lllook her over. You get your stuff ready for when I come back in acouple of days.”
”But--when you release them,” Carson said shakily, ”They'll report--”
The skipper looked at Carson without any expression at all. Then hewent out.
Carson felt sick. But he was a very loyal employee of the Cetis GammaTrading Company. From the windows of his air-conditioned office, hewatched Lon Simpson greet Cathy on his arrival in Cetopolis. He sawCathy put a sprig of _chanel_ blossoms on the lapel of her very bestsuit, in lieu of a bridal bouquet. And he watched them go with shiningfaces toward the airport. He didn't try to stop them.
Later he heard the space yacht take off.
* * * * *
Nodalictha prepared to share the thoughts and the happiness of thefemale biped whose emotions were familiar, since Nodalictha was sorecently a bride herself. Rhadampsicus was making notes, but hegallantly ceased when Nodalictha called to him. They sat, then, beforetheir crude but comfortable bower on the ninth planet, all set to sharethe quaint rejoicing of the creatures of which Nodalictha had grownfond.
Nodalictha penetrated the thoughts of the female, in pleasedanticipation. Rhadampsicus scanned the mind of the male, and hisexpression changed. He shifted his thought to another and another ofthe bipeds in the ship's company. He spoke with some distaste.
”The ones you consider your pets, Nodalictha, are amiable enough. Butthe others--” He frowned. ”Really, darling, if you went into theirminds, you'd be most displeased. They are quite repulsive. Let's forgetabout them and start for home. If you really care for pets, we've muchmore suitable creatures there.”
Nodalictha pouted.
”Rhadampsicus, let's just watch their marriage ceremony. It is socute to think of little creatures like that loving each other--andmarrying--”
Rhadampsicus withdrew his thought from the space yacht and lookedabout the charming rural retreat he and Nodalictha had occupied.Its nitrogen-snow walls glittered in the starlight. The garden ofcyanogen flowers and the border of ammonia crystals and the walkwayof monoclinic sulphur, and the reflection pool of liquid hydrogenhe'd installed in an odd half hour. These were simple, but they weredelightful. The crudity of the space yacht with its metal walls socuriously covered over with a coating of lead oxide in hardened oil,and the vegetable gum flooring.... Rhadampsicus did not like thesurroundings men made for themselves in space.
”Very well, darling,” he said resignedly. ”We will watch, and thenwe'll take off for home. I'm anxious to see what the modernists haveto say when I show them my notes on this flare-up.--And of course,” headded with grave humor, ”you want to show your family that I haven'till-treated you.”
He was the barest trace impatient, but Nodalictha's thoughts were withthe female biped in the spaceship. Her expression was distressed.
”Rhadampsicus!” she said angrily. ”The other bipeds are being unkind tomy pets! Do something! I don't like them!”
* * * * *
A sailor in a soiled uniform led them into the space yacht's saloon.The airlock clanked shut, and the yacht soared for the skies. Thesailor vanished. Nobody else came near. Then Lon stiffened. He got theflavor of his surroundings. He had Cathy with him. On her account, hisflesh crawled suddenly.
This was a space yacht, but of a very special kind. It was a pleasureship. The decorations were subtly disgusting. There were pictures onthe walls, and at first glance they were pretty enough, but on secondglance they were disquieting, and when carefully examined they wereelaborately and allusively monstrous. This was the yacht of someonedenying that anything could be more desirable than pleasure--and whotook his pleasure in a most unattractive fashion.
Lon grasped this much, and it occurred to him that the crew of such ayacht would be chosen for its willingness to co?perate in its owner'senterprises. And Lon went somewhat pale, for Cathy was with him.
The ship went up and up, with the dark shutters over the ports showingthat it was in sunshine fierce enough to be dangerous on unshieldedflesh. Presently there was the feel of maneuvering. After a time theshutters flipped open and stars were visible.
Lon went quickly to a port and looked out. The great black mass of thenight side of Cetis Gamma Two filled half the firmament. It blottedout the sun. The space yacht might be two or three thousand miles upand in the planet's umbra--its shadow--which was not necessary for aspace wedding, or for anything involving a reasonably brief stay in theexcessive heat Cetis Gamma gave off.
There were clankings. A door opened. The skipper came in and Cathysmiled at him because she didn't realize Lon's fierce apprehension.Four other men followed, all in soiled and untidy space yacht uniforms,then two other men in more ordinary clothing. Their expressions weredistinctly uneasy.
The four sailors walked matter of factly over to Lon and grabbed athim. They should have taken him completely by surprise, but he had beenwarned just enough to explode into battle. It was a very pretty fight,for a time. Lon kept three of them busy. One snarled with a wrenchedwrist, another spat blood and teeth and a third had a closed eye beforethe fourth swung a chair. Then Lon hit something with his head. It wasthe deck, but he didn't know it.
* * * * *
When he came to, he was hobbled. He was not bound so he couldn't move,but his hands were handcuffed together, with six inches of chainbetween for play. His ankles were similarly restricted. He couldmove, but he could not fight. Blood was trickling down his temple andsomebody was holding his head up.
The skipper said impatiently, ”All right, stand back.”
Lon's head was released. The skipper jerked a thumb. Men went out.Lon looked about desperately for Cathy. She was there--dead white andterrified, but apparently unharmed. She stared at Lon in wordlesspleading.
”You're a suspicious guy, aren't you?” asked the skipper sardonically.”Somebody lays a finger on you and you start fighting. But you've gotthe idea. I'll say it plain so we can get moving. You're Lon Simpson.Carson, down on the planet, reported some nice news about you. You madea gadget that converts any sort of leaf to _thanar_. Maybe it turnsstuff to other stuff, too.” He paused. ”We want to know how to makegadgets like that. You're gonna draw plans an' explain the theory. Igot guys here to listen. We're gonna make one, from your plans an'explanations, an' it'd better work. See?”
”Carson sent for you to do this,” Lon Simpson said thickly.
”He did. The Company wants it. They'll use it to make _zuss_ fiber andsicces dust, and stuff like that
. Maybe dream dust, too, an' so on. Thepoint is you're gonna tell us how to make those gadgets. How about it?”
Lon licked his lips. He said slowly, ”I think there's more. Go on.”
”You made another gadget,” said the skipper, with relish, ”that turnsout power without fuel. The Company wants that, too. Spacelines willpay for it. Cities will pay for it. It ought to be a pretty nice thing.You're gonna make plans and explanations of how that works and we'regonna make sure they're right. That clear?”
”Will you let us go when I've told you?” Lon asked bitterly.
”Not without one more gadget,” the skipper added amiably. ”You madesomething that put a screen around the planet yonder, so it didn'tget burned up. It'd oughta be useful. The company'll put one aroundMercury. Convenient for minin' operations. One around that planetthat's too close to Sirius. Oh, there's plenty of places that'll beuseful. So you'll get set to draw up the plans for that, too--_and_explanations of how it works. Then we'll talk about lettin' you go.”
* * * * *
Lon knew that he wouldn't be let go in any case. Not after he'd toldthem what was wanted. Not by men who'd work on a pleasure craft likethis. Not with Cathy a prisoner with him. But he might as well get allthe cards down.
”And if I won't tell you what you want to know?” he asked.
The skipper shrugged his shoulders. ”You were knocked out a while,” hesaid without heat. ”While we were waitin' for you to come to, we toldher--” he jerked his thumb at Cathy--”what would happen to her if youweren't obligin'. We told her plenty. She knows we mean it. We won'thurt you until we've finished with her. So you'd better get set totalk. I'll let her see if she can persuade you peaceable. I'll give herten minutes.”
He went out. The door clicked shut behind him and Lon knew that thiswas the finish. He looked at Cathy's dazed, horror-filled eyes. He knewthis wasn't a bluff. He was up against the same system that had broughtcolonists to Cetis Gamma Two. The brains that had planned that systemhad planned this. They'd gotten completely qualified men to do theirdirty work in both cases.
”Lon, darling! Please kill me!” Cathy said in a hoarse whisper.
He looked at her in astonishment.
”Please kill me!” repeated Cathy desperately. ”They--they can't everdare let us go, Lon, after what they've told me! They've got to kill usboth. But--Lon, darling--please kill me first....”
An idea came into Lon's mind. He surveyed it worriedly. He knew that hewould have to tell what he knew and then he would be killed. The CetisGamma Trading Company wanted his inventions, and it would need him deadafter it had them.
The idea was hopeless, but he had to try it. They knew he'd madegadgets which did remarkable things. If he made something now andpersuaded them that it was a weapon....
His flesh crawled with horror. Not for himself, but for Cathy. Hefumbled in his pockets. A pocket knife. A key chain. String. Hisface was completely gray. He ripped an upholstered seat. There werecoiled springs under the foamite. He pulled away a piece of decorativemolding. He knew it wouldn't work, but there wasn't anything elseto do. His hands moved awkwardly, with the handcuffs limiting theirmovements.
Time passed. He had something finished. It was a bit of wood with acoil spring from the chair, with his key chain wrapped around it andhis pocket knife set in it so that the blade would seem to make acontact. But it would achieve nothing whatever.
Cathy stared at him. Her eyes were desperate, but she believed. She'dseen three equally improbable devices perform wonders. While Lon madesomething that looked like the nightmare of an ultimatist sculptor, shewatched in terrified hope.