Farmer, Philip José - Traitor to the Living (23 page)

The jet bomber carried Langer, his two bodyguards, Carfax, and three tough-looking men from an unnamed agency. It took an hour from takeoff at Washington to the time its wheels touched the pavement of the airport at Busiris, Illinois. The party immediately transferred to a car which was speedily escorted through Busiris and across the Illinois River by motorcycle cops. It headed east on U.S. Route 24, a divided six-lane highway, and turned north on U.S. Route 66, a divided twelve-lane highway. Pontiac was fifty-five kilometers from Busiris; the entire trip from the airport, which was in the country west of Busiris, to Pontiac took forty-five minutes.

At Pontiac the car and its escort turned onto State Route 23 and traveled north thirteen kilometers through farmland. Suddenly, after rounding a curve, they came upon a roadblock. The car slowed down and stopped a few meters from a state highway patrol car.

Two men in civilian suits got out of a car to greet them. They were U.S. Marshal Fred Turner and a Mr. Selms. The latter. Carfax suspected, belonged to the same anonymous agency as did the three men who had accompanied the Langer party. These were certainly deterrent to Selms.

"The farmhouse is down the road three kilometers, senator," Selms reported. "The other roadblock is three kilometers on the other side. There are sixty men stationed in the fields and the woods around the house.

He can't get away by car or on foot."

Langer said, "Good," and looked at the cars lined up on the right side of the road. The occupants were being allowed through but only after they had identified themselves. A few had tooted their horns impatiently, but they were queued at once by state troopers.

Langer looked at his wristwatch and said, "We'll move in now. Radio the other roadblock, and tell them to let no more cars through. I want the road kept clear for six kilometers; there might be shooting."

"By the time you get to the house, the civilians now on the road will have passed through," Turner said.

Turner gave the signal, and the troopers and marshals stood to one side while Langer's car drove around the patrol cars onto the shoulder of the road and then back onto the pavement. Three minutes later, they stopped. Down the road, on the right-hand side, was an old two-story house which badly needed a fresh coat of paint. Behind it was a large barn, also needing paint, and some farm machinery, a small tractor and a large combine. The fields behind it were covered with weeds. The pens near the barn were empty of animals.

Carfax looked around but could see none of the sixty men supposedly surrounding the house.

A pickup truck passed them, its driver looking curiously at them. Turner got out of the car which had pulled up behind them and said, "That's the last one. All clear now."

The plan of attack had been formulated during a radiophone conversation between Langer and the authorities while his plane was on its way. Langer said, "Let's go!" though he himself made no move to advance. Turner, carrying a bullhorn, walked down the road toward the house. The morning sun shone brightly, a gentle wind stirred the weeds in the fields, and a crow flew over him, cawing. Except for the men, the scene was one of rural peace and quiet. If there was anyone in the house, he was not showing himself at the windows, the blinds of which were up.

According to the reports which Langer had received on the plane, "Albert Samsel" had last been seen in Pontiac two weeks ago. He had purchased enough groceries at a supermarket to stock him for a month. The clerks and the manager did not remember him until they were shown photographs of Dennis, and then they had not been sure. Dennis was now wearing a moustache, if the man described was Dennis. He had only been at the store twice, and the only reason they remembered him was that he used cash. This was such a rare event that it stuck in their memories.

Carfax wondered why Western had not used an I.D.

These were easy to fake. If he had a bank account, and the bill was paid within thirty days, there would have been no suspicions about him. He surely must have known that the expenditure of a large amount of cash would make him conspicuous.

He thought of Patricia, only sixty kilometers away from Western. Western would have no way of knowing that she was now in Busiris, and any thought of revenge would have to be foregone. If she was killed, an investigation would be launched that would put him in danger of being located.

Patricia was going to be frightened when she found out how close Western had been.

Turner, with Selms and his men a few paces behind him, stopped at the gravel driveway. He looked around, took a whistle out of his pocket, and blew shrilly. Answering whistles rose from the woods across the road and faintly from a line of trees along the distant edge of the field behind the barn. Men popped out of the shadows of the trees and advanced on a run.

Turner put the whistle back in his pocket and walked across the weedy lawn to the sidewalk. Selms and his men spread out, Selms going to the side of the big front porch and crouching below a window. The other men took positions on the side of the house. If Western wanted to dash out of the back door, no one was in his path, but he would never get to the barn.

Selms's men carried submachine guns which would blow his legs off.

Turner put the bullhorn to his mouth and bellowed,

"Ray Dennis! This is the federal marshal! I have a warrant for your arrest! Come out with your hands behind your neck! If you don't, we are authorized to come in after you!"

The men across the road split into two groups. Half of them ran into the yard and took positions near Turner or by the sides of the house. The other half lined up in the ditch that paralleled the road, ready to throw themselves down if fired upon from the house. The men who had hidden at the edge of the field behind the barn were halfway across now. The sun glinted on the barrels of rifles and submachine guns.

Carfax counted to ten slowly. At the end of that time, Turner signaled to two marshals. These aimed their tear gas guns at the two front windows, one on each side of the porch. The projectiles shot forward; the glass broke; a thick white smoke poured out from the jagged edges.

Turner spoke another order, and his men fired four more gas bombs. The men behind the barn had by then reached the yard, and they started to search the barn and to take positions behind the tractor and the combine.

A moment later, tear gas bombs shot from the sides of the machines, and more glass broke.

"Well, I suppose he could have a mask," Langer said. He spoke into the walkie-talkie on his wrist, and

Turner answered. Men in gas masks broke down the front and rear doors with axes and disappeared inside.

A few minutes later, one came back out of the front doorway. He ran down the porch away from the thick fumes, removed his mask, and said something to Turner. Turner waved at Langer to come to him.

Langer strode toward him with Carfax close behind him.

"What is it?" Langer said.

"Dennis is inside, all right. But he's dead. Been dead for over a week. Geoffreys says he must have been electrocuted!"

Langer was impatient, but he had to wait until the gas fumes had cleared enough to make it endurable.

Other windows were smashed to improve the ventilation, and in five minutes Langer and Carfax entered.

The gas was still heavy enough to make them cough and to bring tears. Its effects were less upstairs, where they found a half-built MEDIUM and a body. The stench was so sickening that Langer and Carfax had to retreat to put on gas masks.

The corpse lay on his side beside the machine.

Though his features were bloated and black, he was still recognizable as Dennis. Dead flies lay on his face and around his body. Turner pointed at the exposed interior of the machine and then at the streak, darker than that of corruption, on the swollen hand. Carfax understood. Western had accidentally touched a large transformer and had been killed instantly. His creation had killed him.

Another Frankenstein and his monster. Carfax thought.

Carfax looked at the power switch. It was still on, and the power line was still plugged in. He pulled the plug out, but he motioned to the others not to go near the machine. He walked out into the hallway with Langer and Turner behind him and removed his mask.

Even with the door to the room shut, the stench twisted his stomach.

"It won't be difficult to complete the assembly of the machine," he said to Langer. "Western's dead, but he's left a legacy. What do you plan to do with it?"

"A legacy?" Langer said. "You're thinking about your cousin, aren't you? And if you should decide to marry, you'll be sharing the profits with her, right?"

"Of course," Carfax said. "But I'm more concerned with the uses to which MEDIUM will be put. Frankly, if--or when, I should say--Pat gets control of MEDIUM, I'm going to do my best to see to it that its use is strictly confined to certain areas. There'll be no more communication with sembs except for historical and scientific research. And that'll be with considerable caution."

"And what about its use as a source of cheap power?

The world won't let you prohibit that."

"I know," Carfax said. "But I'd insist on a long and careful study of its effects before it was used for that purpose. How do we know now that its prolonged operation won't weaken the quote walls unquote between the embu and our universe?"

"I'm all for that," Langer said. "In the meantime, I'm impounding the machine and all documents relative to it, everything in the house, in fact. I'm doing it in the name of the federal government."

"Let's hope nothing happens to it while it's locked up," Carfax said. "Like a fire, for instance, which might destroy MEDIUM and all the schematics."

Langer laughed and said, "You're too suspicious."

"If something did happen like that," Carfax said, "it would only delay the inevitable. Now that we know a MEDIUM has been built, you can bet on it that someone will reinvent it."

"Don't you think I have any ethics at all?"

Carfax did not reply.

Selms drew Langer aside for a few minutes. A number of civilians whom he had not seen before, but who seemed to be Selms's men, moved into the room. They carried cameras, fingerprint dusting equipment, tapes, and little boxes of other equipment. Carfax followed Langer outside. There were at least thirty cars along the road; the driveway and backyard were filled with vehicles.

"Western's body will be flown to Washington after the whole house has been searched," Langer said. "One of Selms's crews will remove MEDIUM and associated stuff. And then it'll all be up to the courts."

"You mean the disposition of MEDIUM?" Carfax said.

"Yes."

Langer held out his hand and said, "You can go home now. I won't be needing you any longer. But I am certainly grateful for the help you gave me."

"I'm fired?" Carfax said.

"Discharged with honor. You'll receive a month's severance pay."

"You're not one to shilly-shally," Carfax said. "I can depend on you if I get into any trouble at the investigation?"

"At Bonanza Circus? Certainly. I don't desert my people, even after they've quit working for me. As a matter of fact, even though you'll no longer be on the payroll, I'll foot your expenses while you're at the investigation. You might be there for a long time."

Which means that, in a sense, I'll still be your employee, Carfax thought.

Selms approached Langer. He was carrying four large binders which were crammed with loose-leaf papers. Carfax decided not to leave yet. He wanted to hear Selms's report.

"Dennis's notes," Selms said. "And schematics on microfilm. I looked through a few pages of the first one I picked up. I hope you don't mind."

"Since you'll be looking through them later, I don't see why I should," Langer said. "But no one else is to see these unless I authorize it."

"He had some crazy ideas," Selms said. "One was a project to finance research for growing complete individuals from cells taken from their bodies. Another was to research the possibility of making artificial human bodies. The man was a nut!"

"Not so ..." Langer said, and then he became aware that Carfax had not left.

"Goodby and good luck, Gordon," he said, shaking his hand again. "No doubt we'll be seeing each other some day."

"No doubt," Carfax said, thinking that it would probably be in court. Carfax v. the People of the United States. The issue: the ownership of MEDIUM.

He turned and walked away and then became aware that he had no transportation. He was angry at his abrupt dismissal and did not want to ask Langer for transportation. He hitched a ride on a truck that had slowed down while going by the farmhouse. The driver, a young farmer, was very curious about the crowd.

Carfax told him that it was federal business. He wasn't in a position to discuss anything. He could read about it in the papers. He got off in the downtown district and walked to the bus station. Before boarding, he phoned Patricia and told her what happened. Patricia was very happy; but after she had babbled a minute, Carfax chilled her joy.

"It may be a long time, perhaps years, before we can establish your rights to MEDIUM. And maybe not then."

"What?" Patricia screamed. "I'm the rightful inheritor!

What the hell do those ... ?"

Carfax interrupted. "It's no use getting mad about it, Pat. It's the way things are, and patience is what you're going to need a lot of for a long time. I think it'll be all right in the end. Meantime, simmer down. Pick me up at the bus station in an hour, will you? And have a big drink ready so I can just walk in and pick it up. I'm in need of a lot of relaxation and rest. Not to mention love."

Patricia paused a moment, and then said, "I'll be there," and she punched out.

Carfax sighed. He wasn't in a mood to pacify her; scenes were the last thing he wanted now, not that he ever wanted them. He didn't blame her for being upset, though he had discussed this possibility with her before, and by now she should know better than to react so violently.

On the bus to Busiris, he thought about Semis's comments on the notebooks. Selms had seemed puzzled.