Martyr

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Martyr Page 8

by Alan Edward Nourse

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  VI

  Early evening, as the plane dropped him off in New York Crater, andpicked up another charter. Two cold eggs and some scalding coffee,eaten standing up at the airport counter. Great for the stomach, butthere wasn't time to stop. Anyway, Dan's stomach wasn't in the moodfor dim lights and pale wine, not just this minute. Questions howlingthrough his mind. The knowledge that he had made the one Class Acolossal blunder of his thirty years in politics, this last half-day.A miscalculation of a man! He should have known about McKenzie--atleast suspected. McKenzie was getting old, he wanted a Retread, andwanted it badly. Before, he had planned to get it through Dan. Thensomething changed his mind, and he decided Rinehart would end up ontop.

  Why?

  Armstrong's suicide, of course. Pretty good proof that even Rineharthadn't known it was a suicide. If Carl had brought back evidence ofmurder, Dan would win, McKenzie thought. But evidence of suicide--itwas shaky. Walt Rinehart has his hooks in too deep.

  They piped down the fifteen minute warning for the Washington Jet. Dangulped the last of his coffee, and found a visi-phone booth with ascrambler in working order. Two calls. The first one to Jean, to lineup round-the-clock guards for Peter Golden's widow on Long Island.Jean couldn't keep surprise out of her voice. Dan grunted and didn'telaborate--just get them out there.

  Then a call to locate Carl. He chewed his cigar nervously.

  Two minutes of waiting while they called Carl from wherever he was.Then: "I just saw McKenzie. I found him hiding in Rhinehart's hippocket."

  "Jesus, Dan. We've got to have time."

  "We've got it--but the price was very steep, son."

  Silence then as Carl peered at him. Finally: "I see."

  "If I hadn't been in such a hurry, if I'd only thought it out," Dansaid miserably. "It was an awful error--and all mine, too."

  "Well, don't go out and shoot yourself. I suppose it had to happensooner or later. What about Mother?"

  "She'll be perfectly safe. They won't get within a mile of her. Look,son--is Fisher doing all right?"

  Carl nodded. "I talked to him an hour ago. He'll be ready for you bytomorrow night, he thinks."

  "Sober?"

  "Sober. And mad. He's the right guy for the job." Worried linesdeepened on Golden's forehead. "Everything's O.K.? Rinehart won'tdare--"

  "I scared him. He'd almost forgotten. Everything's fine." Dan rangoff, scowling. He wished he was as sure as he sounded. Rinehart's backwas to the wall, now. Dan wasn't too sure he liked it that way.

  An hour later he was in Washington, and Jean was dragging him into theVolta. "If you don't sleep now, I'll have you put to sleep. Now shutup while I drive you home."

  A soft bed, darkness, escape. When had he slept last? It was heaven.

  * * * * *

  He slept the clock around, which he had not intended, and caught thenext night-jet to Las Vegas, which he had intended. There was somedelay with the passenger list after he had gone aboard, a fight ofsome sort, and the jet took off four minutes late. Dan slept again,fitfully.

  Somebody slid into the adjoining seat. "Well! Good old Dan Fowler!"

  A gaunt, frantic-looking man, with skin like cracked parchment acrosshis high cheekbones, and a pair of Carradine eyes looking down at Dan.If Death should walk in human flesh, Dan thought, it would look likeJohn Tyndall.

  "What do you want, 'Moses'?"

  "Just dropped by to chat," said Tyndall. "You're heading for LasVegas, eh? Why?"

  Dan jerked, fumbled for the upright-button. "I like the climate outthere. If you want to talk, talk and get it over with."

  Tyndall lifted a narrow foot and gave the recline-button a sharp jab,dumping the Senator back against the seat. "You're onto something. Ican smell it cooking, and I want my share, right now."

  Dan stared into the gaunt face, and burst out laughing. He had neveractually been so close to John Tyndall before, and he did _not_ likethe smell, which had brought on the laugh, but he knew all aboutTyndall. More than Tyndall himself knew, probably. He could evenremember the early rallies Tyndall had led, feeding on the fears andsuspicions and nasty rumors grown up in the early days. It was evil,they had said. This was not God's way, this was Man's way, as evil asMan was evil. If God had wanted Man to live a thousand years, he wouldhave given him such a body--

  Or:

  They'll use it for a tool! Political football. They'll buy and sellwith it. They'll make a cult of it, they're doing it right now! Lookat Walter Rinehart. Did you hear about his scheme? To keep it down tofive hundred a year? They'll make themselves a ruling class, animmortal elite, with Rinehart for their Black Pope. Better that_nobody_ should have it--

  Or:

  Immortality, huh? But what kind? You hear what happened to HarveyTatum? That's right, the jet-car man, big business. He was one oftheir 'Noble Ten' they're always bragging about. But they say he hadto have special drugs every night, that he had _changed_. That'sright, if he didn't get these drugs, see, he'd go mad and try to suckblood and butcher up children--oh, they didn't dare publish it, had toput him out of the way quietly, but my brother-in-law was down inLancaster one night when--

  * * * * *

  All it really needed was the man, and one day there was 'Moses'Tyndall. Leader of the New Crusade for God. Small, at first. But thead-men began supporting him, broadcasting his rallies, playing him upbig. Abolish rejuvenation, it's a blot against Man's immortal soul.Amen. Then the insurance people came along, with money. (The ad-menand the insurance people weren't too concerned about Man's immortalsoul--they'd take their share now, thanks--but this didn't botherTyndall too much. Misguided, but they were on God's side. He prayedfor them.) So they gave Tyndall the first Abolitionist seat in theSenate, in 2124, just nine years ago, and the fight between Rinehartand Dan Fowler that was brewing even then had turned into athree-cornered fight--

  * * * * *

  Dan grinned up at Tyndall and said, "Go away, John. Don't bother me."

  "You've got something," Tyndall snarled. "What is that damn shadow ofyours nosing around Tenner's for? Why the sudden leaping interest inNevada? Two trips in three days--what are you trying to track down?"

  "Why on Earth should I tell you anything, Holy Man?"

  The parchment face wrinkled unpleasantly. "Because it would be verysmart, that's why. Rinehart's out of it, now. Washed up, finished,thanks to you. Now it's just you or me, one or the other. You're inthe way, and you're going to be gotten out of the way when you'vefinished up Rinehart, because I'm going to start rolling them. Goalong with me now and you won't get smashed, Dan."

  "Get out of here," Dan snarled, sitting bolt upright. "You gave it toCarl Golden, a long time ago when he was with you, remember? Carl's myboy now--do you think I'll swallow the same bait?"

  "You'd be smart if you did." The man leaned forward. "I'll let you inon a secret. I've just recently had a--_vision_, you might say. Thereare going to be riots and fires and shouting, around the time of theHearings. People will be killed. Lots of people--spontaneous outburstsof passion, of course, the great voice of the people rising againstthe Abomination. And against _you_, Dan. A few Repeaters may be takenout and hanged, and then when you have won against Rinehart, you'llfind people thinking that you're really a traitor--"

  "Nobody will swallow that," Dan snapped.

  "Just watch and see. I can still call it off, if you say so." He stoodup quickly as Dan's face went purple. "New Chicago," he saidsmoothly. "Have to see a man here, and then get back to the Capitol.Happy hunting, Dan. You know where to reach me."

  He strode down the aisle of the ship, leaving Dan staring bleakly atan empty seat.

  Paul, Paul--

  * * * * *

  He met Terry Fisher at the landing field in Las Vegas. A firmhandshake, clear brown eyes looking at him the way a four-year-oldlooks at Santa Claus. "Glad you could come tonight, Senator. I've hada busy couple of days. I thin
k you'll be interested." Remarkablerestraint in the man's voice. His face was full of things unsaid. Dancaught it; he knew faces, read them like typescript. "What is it,son?"

  "Wait until you see." Fisher laughed nervously. "I thought for a whilethat I was back on Mars."

  "Cigar?"

  "No thanks. I never use them."

  The car broke through darkness across bumpy pavement. The men satsilently. Then a barbed-wire enclosure loomed up, and a guard walkedover,

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