Second Variety and Other Stories (49 page)

"You have already told someone," the Old Man said coldly.

"Me?" Ed blinked. "Who?"

"Your wife."

Ed trembled. The color drained from his face, leaving it a sickly white. "That's right. I did."

"Your wife knows." The Old Man's face twisted angrily. "A woman. Of all the things to tell --"

"I didn't know." Ed retreated, panic leaping through him. "But I know now. You can count on
me. Consider me changed."

me. Consider me changed."

"But I didn't know who was doing the changing."

"Now you know. The natural process must be supplemented -- adjusted here and there.
Corrections must be made. We are fully licensed to make such corrections. Our adjustment teams
perform vital work."

Ed plucked up a measure of courage. "This particular adjustment. Douglas. The office. What was
it for? I'm sure it was some worthwhile purpose."

The Old Man waved his hand. Behind him in the shadows an immense map glowed into
existence. Ed caught his breath. The edges of the map faded off in obscurity. He saw an infinite web of
detailed sections, a network of squares and ruled lines. Each square was marked. Some glowed with a
blue light. The lights altered constantly.

"The Sector Board," the Old Man said. He sighed wearily. "A staggering job. Sometimes we
wonder how we can go on another period. But it must be done. For the good of all. For your good."

"The change. In our -- our Sector."

"Your office deals in real estate. The old Douglas was a shrewd man, but rapidly becoming
infirm. His physical health was waning. In a few days Douglas will be offered a chance to purchase a
large unimproved forest area in western Canada. It will require most of his assets. The older, less virile
Douglas would have hesitated. It is imperative he not hesitate. He must purchase the area and clear the
land at once. Only a younger man -- a younger Douglas -- would undertake this.

"When the land is cleared, certain anthropological remains will be discovered. They have already
been placed there. Douglas will lease his land to the Canadian Government for scientific study. The
remains found there will cause international excitement in learned circles.

"A chain of events will be set in motion. Men from numerous countries will come to Canada to
examine the remains. Soviet, Polish, and Czech scientists will make the journey.

"The chain of events will draw these scientists together for the first time in years. National
research will be temporarily forgotten in the excitement of these nonnational discoveries. One of the
leading Soviet scientists will make friends with a Belgian scientist. Before they depart they will agree to
correspond -- without the knowledge of their governments, of course.

"The circle will widen. Other scientists on both sides will be drawn in. A society will be founded.
More and more educated men will transfer an increasing amount of time to this international society.
Purely national research will suffer a slight but extremely critical eclipse. The war tension will somewhat
wane.

"This alteration is vital. And it is dependent on the purchase and clearing of the section of
wilderness in Canada. The old Douglas would not have dared take the risk. But the altered Douglas, and
his altered, more youthful staff, will pursue this work with wholehearted enthusiasm. And from this, the
vital chain of widening events will come about. The beneficiaries will be you. Our methods may seem
strange and indirect. Even incomprehensible. But I assure you we know what we're doing."

"I know that now," Ed said.

"So you do. You know a great deal. Much too much. No element should possess such
knowledge. I should perhaps call an adjustment team in here..."

A picture formed in Ed's mind: swirling gray clouds, gray men and women. He shuddered.
"Look," he croaked. "I'll do anything. Anything at all. Only don't de-energize me." Sweat ran down his
face. "Okay?"

The Old Man pondered. "Perhaps some alternative could be found. There is another possibility."

"What?" Ed asked eagerly. "What is it?"

The Old Man spoke slowly, thoughtfully. "If I allow you to return, you will swear never to speak
of the matter? Will you swear not to reveal to anyone the things you saw? The things you know?"

"Sure!" Ed gasped eagerly, blinding relief flooding over him. "I swear!"

"Your wife. She must know nothing more. She must think it was only a passing psychological fit

-- retreat from reality."

-- retreat from reality."

"She must continue to."

Ed set his jaw firmly. "I'll see that she continues to think it was a mental aberration. She'll never
know what really happened."

"You are certain you can keep the truth from her?"

"Sure," Ed said confidently. "I know I can."

"All right." The Old Man nodded slowly. "I will send you back. But you must tell no one." He
swelled visibly. "Remember: you will eventually come back to me -- everyone does, in the end -- and
your fate will not be enviable."

"I won't tell her," Ed said, sweating. "I promise. You have my word on that. I can handle Ruth.
Don't give it a second thought."

Ed arrived home at sunset.

He blinked, dazed from the rapid descent. For a moment he stood on the pavement, regaining his
balance and catching his breath. Then he walked quickly up the path.

He pushed the door open and entered the little green stucco house.

"Ed!" Ruth came flying, face distorted with tears. She threw her arms around him, hugging him
tight. "Where the hell have you been?"

"Been?" Ed murmured. "At the office, of course."

Ruth pulled back abruptly. "No, you haven't."

Vague tendrils of alarm plucked at Ed. "Of course I have. Where else -- ?"

"I called Douglas about three. He said you left. You walked out, practically as soon as I turned
my back. Eddie --"

Ed patted her nervously. "Take it easy, honey." He began unbuttoning his coat. "Everything's
okay. Understand? Things are perfectly all right."

Ruth sat down on the arm of the couch. She blew her nose, dabbing at her eyes. "If you knew
how much I've worried." She put her handkerchief away and folded her arms. "I want to know where
you were."

Uneasily, Ed hung his coat in the closet. He came over and kissed her. Her lips were ice cold.
"I'll tell you all about it. But what do you say we have something to eat? I'm starved."

Ruth studied him intently. She got down from the arm of the couch. "I'll change and fix dinner."

She hurried into the bedroom and slipped off her shoes and nylons. Ed followed her. "I didn't
mean to worry you," he said carefully. "After you left me today I realized you were right."

"Oh?" Ruth unfastened her blouse and skirt, arranging them over a hanger. "Right about what?"

"About me." He manufactured a grin and made it glow across his face. "About... what
happened."

Ruth hung her slip over the hanger. She studied her husband intently as she struggled into her
tight-fitting jeans. "Go on."

The moment had come. It was now or never. Ed Fletcher braced himself and chose his words
carefully. "I realized," he stated, "that the whole darn thing was in my mind. You were right, Ruth.
Completely right. And I even realize what caused it."

Ruth rolled her cotton T-shirt down and tucked it in her jeans. "What was the cause?"

"Overwork."

"Overwork?"

"I need a vacation. I haven't had a vacation in years. My mind isn't on the job. I've been
daydreaming." He said it firmly, but his heart was in his mouth. "I need to get away. To the mountains.
Bass fishing. Or --" He searched his mind frantically. "Or --"

Ruth came toward him ominously. "Ed!" she said sharply. "Look at me!"

"What's the matter?" Panic shot through him. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Where were you this afternoon?"

Ed's grin faded. "I told you. I went for a walk. Didn't I tell you? A walk. To think things over."

Ed's grin faded. "I told you. I went for a walk. Didn't I tell you? A walk. To think things over."

Ed stammered weakly. Sweat poured off him. He sagged helplessly against the door. "What do
you mean?"

Ruth's black eyes flashed with anger. "Come on! I want to know where you were! Tell me! I
have a right to know. What really happened?"

Ed retreated in terror, his resolve melting like wax. It was going all wrong. "Honest. I went out
for a --"

"Tell me!" Ruth's sharp fingernails dug into his arm. "I want to know where you were -- and who
you were with!"

Ed opened his mouth. He tried to grin, but his face failed to respond. "I don't know what you
mean."

"You know what I mean. Who were you with? Where did you go? Tell me! I'll find out sooner or
later."

There was no way out. He was licked -- and he knew it. He couldn't keep it from her.
Desperately he stalled, praying for time. If he could only distract her, get her mind on something else. If
she would only let up, even for a second. He could invent something -- a better story. Time -- he needed
more time. "Ruth, you've got to --"

Suddenly there was a sound: the bark of a dog, echoing through the dark house.

Ruth let go, cocking her head alertly. "That was Dobbie. I think somebody's coming."

The doorbell rang.

"You stay here. I'll be right back." Ruth ran out of the room, to the front door. "Darn it." She
pulled the front door open.

"Good evening!" The young man stepped quickly inside, loaded down with objects, grinning
broadly at Ruth. "I'm from the Sweep-Rite Vacuum Cleaner Company."

Ruth scowled impatiently. "Really, we're about to sit down at the table."

"Oh, this will only take a moment." The young man set down the vacuum cleaner and its
attachments with a metallic crash. Rapidly, he unrolled a long illustrated banner, showing the vacuum
cleaner in action. "Now, if you'll just hold this while I plug in the cleaner --"

He bustled happily about, unplugging the TV set, plugging in the cleaner, pushing the chairs out of
his way.

Til show you the drape scraper first." He attached a hose and nozzle to the big gleaming tank.
"Now, if you'll just sit down I'll demonstrate each of these easy-to-use attachments." His happy voice
rose over the roar of the cleaner. "You'll notice --"

Ed Fletcher sat down on the bed. He groped in his pocket until he found his cigarettes. Shakily
he lit one and leaned back against the wall, weak with relief.

He gazed up, a look of gratitude on his face. "Thanks," he said softly. "I think we'll make it -after
all. Thanks a lot."

"She just stands there," Norton said nervously. "Captain, you'll have to talk to her."

"What does she want?"

"She wants a ticket. She's stone deaf. She just stands there staring and she won't go away. It
gives me the creeps."

Captain Andrews got slowly to his feet. "Okay. I'll talk to her. Send her in."

"Thanks." To the corridor Norton said, "The Captain will talk to you. Come ahead."

"Thanks." To the corridor Norton said, "The Captain will talk to you. Come ahead."

"In here." Norton backed into the control room. "This way. Right in here."

Behind Norton came a withered little old woman. Beside her moved a gleaming robant, a
towering robot servant, supporting her with its arm. The robant and the tiny old woman entered the
control room slowly.

"Here's her papers." Norton slid a folio onto the chart desk, his voice awed. "She's three hundred
and fifty years old. One of the oldest sustained. From Riga II."

Andrews leafed slowly through the folio. In front of the desk the little woman stood silently,
staring straight ahead. Her faded eyes were pale blue. Like ancient china.

"Irma Vincent Gordon," Andrews murmured. He glanced up. "Is that right?"

The old woman did not answer.

"She is totally deaf, sir," the robant said.

Andrews grunted and returned to the folio. Irma Gordon was one of the original settlers of the
Riga system. Origin unknown. Probably born out in space in one of the old sub-C ships. A strange
feeling drifted through him. The little old creature. The centuries she had seen! The changes.

"She wants to travel?" he asked the robant.

"Yes, sir. She has come from her home to purchase a ticket."

"Can she stand space travel?"

"She came from Riga, here to Fomalhaut IX."

"Where does she want to go?"

"To Earth, sir," the robant said.

"Earth!" Andrews' jaw dropped. He swore nervously. "What do you mean?"

"She wishes to travel to Earth, sir."

"You see?" Norton muttered. "Completely crazy."

Gripping his desk tightly, Andrews addressed the old woman. "Madam, we can't sell you a ticket
to Earth."

"She can't hear you, sir," the robant said.

Andrews found a piece of paper. He wrote in big letters:

CAN'T SELL YOU A TICKET TO EARTH

He held it up. The old woman's eyes moved as she studied the words. Her lips twitched. "Why
not?" she said at last. Her voice was faint and dry. Like rustling weeds.

Andrews scratched an answer.

NO SUCH PLACE

He added grimly:

MYTH -- LEGEND -- NEVER EXISTED

The old woman's faded eyes left the words. She gazed directly at Andrews, her face
expressionless. Andrews became uneasy. Beside him, Norton sweated nervously.

"Jeez," Norton muttered. "Get her out of here. She'll put the hex on us."

Andrews addressed the robant. "Can't you make her understand? There is no such place as
Earth. It's been proved a thousand times. No such primordial planet existed. All scientists agree human
life arose simultaneously throughout the --"