The Past Through Tomorrow

  But the man’s personality was powerful, his years gave him prestige, and his slightly archaic way of speaking added to his patriarchal authority; nobody argued.

  “Okay,” Lazarus announced, clapping his hands once. “Church is out until tomorrow night.” He stepped down from the platform.

  Mary Sperling came up to him. “I would like to know you better,” she said, looking him in the eyes.

  “Sure, Sis. Why not?”

  “Are you staying for discussion?”

  “No.”

  “Could you come home with me?”

  “Like to. I’ve no pressing business elsewhere.”

  “Come then.” She led him through the tunnel to the underground pool connecting with Lake Michigan. He widened his eyes at the pseudo-Camden but said nothing until they were submerged.

  “Nice little car you’ve got.”

  “Yes.”

  “Has some unusual features.”

  She smiled. “Yes. Among other things, it blows up—quite thoroughly—if anyone tries to investigate it.”

  “Good.” He added, “You a designing engineer, Mary?”

  “Me? Heavens, no! Not this past century, at least, and I no longer try to keep up with such things. But you can order a car modified the way this one is through the Families, if you want one. Talk to—”

  “Never mind, I’ve no need for one. I just like gadgets that do what they were designed to do and do it quietly and efficiently. Some good skull sweat in this one.”

  “Yes.” She was busy then, surfacing, making a radar check, and getting them back ashore without attracting notice.

  When they reached her apartment she put tobacco and drink close to him, then went to her retiring room, threw off her street clothes and put on a soft loose robe that made her look even smaller and younger than she had looked before. When she rejoined Lazarus, he stood up, struck a cigarette for her, then paused as he handed it to her and gave a gallant and indelicate whistle.

  She smiled briefly, took the cigarette, and sat down in a large chair, pulling her feet under her. “Lazarus, you reassure me.”

  “Don’t you own a mirror, girl?”

  “Not that,” she said impatiently. “You yourself. You know that I have passed the reasonable life expectancy of our people—I’ve been expecting to die, been resigned to it, for the past ten years. Yet there you sit… years and years older than I am. You give me hope.”

  He sat up straight. “You expecting to die? Good grief, girl—you look good for another century.”

  She made a tired gesture. “Don’t try to jolly me. You know that appearance has nothing to do with it. Lazarus, I don’t want to die!”

  Lazarus answered soberly, “I wasn’t trying to kid you, Sis. You simply don’t look like a candidate for corpse.”

  She shrugged gracefully. “A matter of biotechniques. I’m holding my appearance at the early thirties.”

  “Or less, I’d say. I guess I’m not up on the latest dodges, Mary. You heard me say that I had not attended a get-together for more than a century. As a matter of fact I’ve been completely out of touch with the Families the whole time.”

  “Really? May I ask why?”

  “A long story and a dull one. What it amounts to is that I got bored with them. I used to be a delegate to the annual meetings. But they got stuffy and set in their ways—or so it seemed to me. So I wandered off. I spent the Interregnum on Venus, mostly. I came back for a while after the Covenant was signed but I don’t suppose I’ve spent two years on Earth since then. I like to move around.”

  Her eyes lit up. “Oh, tell me about it! I’ve never been out in deep space. Just Luna City, once.”

  “Sure,” he agreed. “Sometime. But I want to hear more about this matter of your appearance. Girl, you sure don’t look your age.”

  “I suppose not. Or, rather, of course I don’t. As to how it’s done, I can’t tell you much. Hormones and symbiotics and gland therapy and some psychotherapy—things like that. What it adds up to is that, for members of the Families, senility is postponed and that senescence can be arrested at least cosmetically.” She brooded for a moment. “Once they thought they were on the track of the secret of immortality, the true Fountain of Youth. But it was a mistake. Senility is simply postponed… and shortened. About ninety days from the first clear warning—then death from old age.” She shivered. “Of course, most of our cousins don’t wait—a couple of weeks to make certain of the diagnosis, then euthanasia.”

  “The hell you say! Well, I won’t go that way. When the Old Boy comes to get me, he’ll have to drag me—and I’ll be kicking and gouging eyes every step of the way!”

  She smiled lopsidedly. “It does me good to hear you talk that way. Lazarus, I wouldn’t let my guards down this way with anyone younger than myself. But your example gives me courage.”

  “We’ll outlast the lot of ‘em, Mary, never you fear. But about the meeting tonight: I haven’t paid any attention to the news and I’ve only recently come earthside—does this chap Ralph Schultz know what he is talking about?”

  “I think he must. His grandfather was a brilliant man and so is his father.”

  “I take it you know Ralph.”

  “Slightly. He is one of my grandchildren.”

  “That’s amusing. He looks older than you do.”

  “Ralph found it suited him to arrest his appearance at about forty, that’s all. His father was my twenty-seventh child. Ralph must be—let me see— oh, eighty or ninety years younger than I am, at least. At that, he is older than some of my children.”

  “You’ve done well by the Families, Mary.”

  “I suppose so. But they’ve done well by me, too. I’ve enjoyed having children and the trust benefits for my thirty-odd come to quite a lot. I have every luxury one could want.” She shivered again. “I suppose that’s why I’m in such a funk—I enjoy life.”

  “Stop it! I thought my sterling example and boyish grin had cured you of that nonsense!”

  “Well… you’ve helped.”

  “Mmm… look, Mary, why don’t you marry again and have some more squally brats? Keep you too busy to fret.”

  “What? At my age? Now, really, Lazarus!”

  “Nothing wrong with your age. You’re younger than I am.”

  She studied him for a moment. “Lazarus, are you proposing a contract? If so, I wish you would speak more plainly.”

  His mouth opened and he gulped. “Hey, wait a minute! Take it easy! I was speaking in general terms… I’m not the domestic type. Why, every time I’ve married my wife has grown sick of the sight of me inside of a few years. Not but what I—well, I mean you’re a very pretty girl and a man ought to—”

  She shut him off by leaning forward and putting a hand over his mouth, while grinning impishly. “I didn’t mean to panic you, cousin. Or perhaps I did—men are so funny when they think they are about to be trapped.”

  “Well—” he said glumly.

  “Forget it, dear. Tell me, what plan do you think they will settle on?”

  “That bunch tonight?”

  “Yes.”

  “None, of course. They won’t get anywhere. Mary, a committee is the only known form of life with a hundred bellies and no brain. But presently somebody with a mind of his own will bulldoze them into accepting his plan. I don’t know what it will be.”

  “Well… what course of action do you favor?”

  “Me? Why, none. Mary, if there is any one thing I have learned in the past couple of centuries, it’s this: These things pass. Wars and depressions and Prophets and Covenants—they pass. The trick is to stay alive through them.”

  She nodded thoughtfully. “I think you are right.”

  “Sure I’m right. It takes a hundred years or so to realize just how good life is.” He stood up and stretched. “But right now this growing boy could use some sleep.”

  “Me, too.”

  Mary’s flat was on the top floor, with a sky view. When she had come back to t
he lounge she had cut the inside lighting and let the ceiling shutters fold back; they had been sitting, save for an invisible sheet of plastic, under the stars. As Lazarus raised his head in stretching, his eye had rested on his favorite constellation. “Odd,” he commented. “Orion seems to have added a fourth star to his belt.”

  She looked up. “That must be the big ship for the Second Centauri Expedition. See if you can see it move.”

  “Couldn’t tell without instruments.”

  “I suppose not,” she agreed. “Clever of them to build it out in space, isn’t it?”

  “No other way to do it. It’s too big to assemble on Earth. I can doss down right here, Mary. Or do you have a spare room?”

  “Your room is the second door on the right. Shout if you can’t find everything you need.” She put her face up and kissed him goodnight, a quick peck. “‘Night.”

  Lazarus followed her and went into his own room.

  Mary Sperling woke at her usual hour the next day. She got up quietly to keep from waking Lazarus, ducked into her ‘fresher, showered and massaged, swallowed a grain of sleep surrogate to make up for the short night, followed it almost as quickly with all the breakfast she permitted her waistline, then punched for the calls she had not bothered to take the night before. The phone played back several calls which she promptly forgot, then she recognized the voice of Bork Vanning. “’Hello,‘” the instrument said. “’Mary, this is Bork, calling at twenty-one o’clock. I’ll be by at ten o’clock tomorrow morning, for a dip in the lake and lunch somewhere. Unless I hear from you it’s a date. ‘Bye, my dear. Service.’”

  “Service,” she repeated automatically. Drat the man! Couldn’t he take no for an answer? Mary Sperling, you’re slipping!—a quarter your age and yet you can’t seem to handle him.

  Call him and leave word that—no, too late; he’d be here any minute. Bother!

  2

  WHEN LAZARUS went to bed he stepped out of his kilt and chucked it toward a wardrobe… which snagged it, shook it out, and hung it up neatly. “Nice catch,” he commented, then glanced down at his hairy thighs and smiled wryly; the kilt had concealed a blaster strapped to one thigh, a knife to the other. He was aware of the present gentle custom against personal weapons, but he felt naked without them. Such customs were nonsense anyhow, foolishment from old women—there was no such thing as a “dangerous weapon,” there were only dangerous men.

  When he came out of the ‘fresher, he put his weapons where he could reach them before sprawling in sleep.

  He came instantly wide awake with a weapon in each hand… then remembered where he was, relaxed, and looked around to see what had wakened him.

  It was a murmur of voices through the air duct. Poor soundproofing he decided, and Mary must be entertaining callers—in which case he should not be slug-a-bed. He got up, refreshed himself, strapped his best friends back on his thighs, and went looking for his hostess.

  As the door to the lounge dilated noiselessly in front of him the sound of voices became loud and very interesting. The lounge was el-shaped and he was out of sight; he hung back and listened shamelessly. Eavesdropping had saved his skin on several occasions; it worried him not at all—he enjoyed it.

  A man was saying, “Mary, you’re completely unreasonable! You know you’re fond of me, you admit that marriage to me would be to your advantage. So why won’t you?”

  “I told you, Bork. Age difference.”

  “That’s foolish. What do you expect? Adolescent romance? Oh, I admit that I’m not as young as you are… but a woman needs an older man to look up to and keep her steady. I’m not too old for you; I’m just at my prime.”

  Lazarus decided that he already knew this chap well enough to dislike him. Sulky voice——

  Mary did not answer. The man went on: “Anyhow, I have a surprise for you on that point. I wish I could tell you now, but… well, it’s a state secret.”

  “Then don’t tell me. It can’t change my mind in any case, Bork.”

  “Oh, but it would! Mmm… I will tell you—I know you can be trusted.”

  “Now, Bork, you shouldn’t assume that——”

  “It doesn’t matter; it will be public knowledge in a few days anyhow. Mary… I’ll never grow old on you!”

  “What do you mean?” Lazarus decided that her tone was suddenly suspicious.

  “Just what I said. Mary, they’ve found the secret of eternal youth!”

  “What? Who? How? When?”

  “Oh, so now you’re interested, eh? Well, I won’t keep you waiting. You know these old Johnnies that call themselves the Howard Families?”

  “Yes… I’ve heard of them, of course,” she admitted slowly. “But what of it? They’re fakes.”

  “Not at all. I know. The Administration has been quietly investigating their claims. Some of them are unquestionably more than a hundred years old—and still young!”

  “That’s very hard to believe.”

  “Nevertheless it’s true.”

  “Well… how do they do it?”

  “Ah! That’s the point. They claim that it is a simple matter of heredity, that they live a long time because they come from long lived stock. But that’s preposterous, scientifically incompatible with the established facts. The Administration checked most carefully and the answer is certain: they have the secret of staying young.”

  “You can’t be sure of that.”

  “Oh, come, Mary! You’re a dear girl but you’re questioning the expert opinion of the best scientific brains in the world. Never mind. Here’s the part that is confidential. We don’t have their secret yet—but we will have it shortly. Without any excitement or public notice, they are to be picked up and questioned. We’ll get the secret—and you and I will never grow old! What do you think of that? Eh?”

  Mary answered very slowly, almost inaudibly, “It would be nice if everyone could live a long time.”

  “Huh? Yes, I suppose it would. But in any case you and I will receive the treatment, whatever it is. Think about us, dear. Year after year after year of happy, youthful marriage. Not less than a century. Maybe even——”

  “Wait a moment, Bork. This ‘secret.’ It wouldn’t be for everybody?”

  “Well, now… that’s a matter of high policy. Population pressure is a pretty unwieldy problem even now. In practice it might be necessary to restrict it to essential personnel—and their wives. But don’t fret your lovely head about it; you and I will have it.”

  “You mean I’ll have it if I marry you.”

  “Mmm… that’s a nasty way to put it, Mary. I’d do anything in the world for you that I could—because I love you. But it would be utterly simple if you were married to me. So say you will.”

  “Let’s let that be for the moment. How do you propose to get this ‘secret’ out of them?”

  Lazarus could almost hear his wise nod. “Oh, they’ll talk!”

  “Do you mean to say you’d send them to Coventry if they didn’t?”

  “Coventry? Hm! You don’t understand the situation at all, Mary; this isn’t any minor social offense. This is treason—treason against the whole human race. We’ll use means! Ways that the Prophets used… if they don’t cooperate willingly.”

  “Do you mean that? Why, that’s against the Covenant!”

  “Covenant be damned! This is a matter of life and death—do you think we’d let a scrap of paper stand in our way? You can’t bother with petty legalities in the fundamental things men live by—not something they will fight to the death for. And that is precisely what this is. These… these dog-in-the-manger scoundrels are trying to keep life itself from us. Do you think we’ll bow to ‘custom’ in an emergency like this?”

  Mary answered in a hushed and horrified voice: “Do you really think the Council will violate the Covenant?”

  “Think so? The Action-in-Council was recorded last night. We authorized the Administrator to use ‘full expediency.’”

  Lazarus strained his ears through
a long silence. At last Mary spoke. “Bork——”

  “Yes, my dear?”

  “You’ve got to do something about this. You must stop it.”

  “Stop it? You don’t know what you’re saying. I couldn’t… and I would not if I could.”

  “But you must. You must convince the Council. They’re making a mistake, a tragic mistake. There is nothing to be gained by trying to coerce those poor people. There is no secret!”

  “What? You’re getting excited, my dear. You’re setting your judgment up against some of the best and wisest men on the planet. Believe me, we know what we are doing. We don’t relish using harsh methods any more than you do, but it’s for the general welfare. Look, I’m sorry I ever brought it up. Naturally you are soft and gentle and warmhearted and I love you for it. Why not marry me and not bother your head about matters of public policy?”

  “Marry you? Never!”

  “Aw, Mary—you’re upset. Give me just one good reason why not?”

  “I’ll tell you why! Because J am one of those people you want to persecute!”

  There was another pause. “Mary… you’re not well.”

  “Not well, am I? I am as well as a person can be at my age. Listen to me, you fool! I have grandsons twice your age. I was here when the First Prophet took over the country. I was here when Harriman launched the first Moon rocket. You weren’t even a squalling brat—your grandparents hadn’t even met, when I was a woman grown and married. And you stand there and glibly propose to push around, even to torture, me and my kind. Marry you? I’d rather marry one of my own grandchildren!”

  Lazarus shifted his weight and slid his right hand inside the flap of his kilt; he expected trouble at once. You can depend on a woman, he reflected, to blow her top at the wrong moment.

  He waited. Bork’s answer was cool; the tones of the experienced man of authority replaced those of thwarted passion. “Take it easy, Mary. Sit down, I’ll look after you. First I want you to take a sedative. Then I’ll get the best psychotherapist in the city—in the whole country. You’ll be all right.”