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 the 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!
Chapter 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.”