Love Story
Page 3
honeymoon at Memory Lodge, aresort not far from the Directorate capital in Hollywood. It was thenational capital as well, though everyone conscientiously maintainedthe pretense that Washington, with an all-male Congress, stillgoverned the country. George considered himself lucky that his motherhad chosen Memory Lodge. He had already planned to desert Jenny in themountains.
George knew how to drive; his mother had wanted him to do a great dealof chauffeuring for her. But he had never driven beyond town, and hehad never driven anywhere alone. His mother gave him a map on whichhis route to the lodge was indicated in bright red. In the foothillsGeorge left the marked highway on a paved side road.
He gambled that Jenny wouldn't immediately realize what he had done,and the gamble paid off. Still wearing her nearly transparent weddinggown, she pressed close to him and ran her hands constantly over hisnaked chest, thoroughly satisfied with the man she had bought. In thechurch George had been given a tall glass of the compound; he actedthe part Jenny expected.
But it was far less a role he played than George wanted to admit. Hisbody sang with excitement. He found it very difficult to hold theexcitement in check. If he had been addicted to the compound, it wouldhave been out of the question. More than ever before he sympathizedwith the men who were enslaved by love. In spite of his own immunity,he nearly yielded to the sensuous appeal of her caress. He held thewheel so hard his knuckles went white; he clenched his teeth until hisjaw ached.
All afternoon George drove aimless mountain roads, moving deeper intothe uninhabited canyons. Carefully judging his distances with an eyeon the map, he saw to it that he remained relatively close to thecity; after he forced Jenny to give him the information he wanted, hewanted to be able to get out fast.
By dusk the roads he drove were no longer paved. Ruts carved deep byspring rains suggested long disuse. The swaying of the car and theconstant grinding of gears eventually jolted Jenny out of her romanticdreams. She moved away from George and sat looking at the pines whichmet above the road.
"We're lost, aren't we?" she asked.
"What's that?" he shouted to be heard above the roar of the motor.
"Lost!"
For a minute or two longer he continued to drive until he saw an openspace under the trees. He pulled the car into the clearing and snappedoff the ignition. Then he looked Jenny full in the face and answeredher. "No, Jenny, we aren't lost; I know exactly what I'm doing."
"Oh." He was sure she had understood him, but she said, "We can spendthe night here and find the lodge in the morning. It's a pity wedidn't bring something to eat." She smiled ingenuously. "But I broughtthe compound; and we have each other."
They got out of the car. Jenny looked up at the sunset, dull red abovethe trees, and shivered; she asked George to build a fire. He tuckedthe ignition key into the band of his white trunks and began to gatherdry boughs and pine needles from the floor of the forest. He foundseveral large branches and carried them back to the clearing. Therewas enough wood to last until morning--whether he stayed that long ornot. Jenny had lugged the seats and a blanket out of the car andimprovised a lean-to close to the fire.
He piled on two of the larger branches and the bright glow of flamelit their faces. She beckoned to him and gave him a bottle of thecompound, watching bright-eyed as he emptied it.
With her lips parted, she waited. He did nothing. Slowly the lightdied in her eyes. Like a savage she flung herself into his arms. Hesteeled himself to show absolutely no reaction and finally she drewaway. Trembling and with tears in her eyes, she whispered, "Thecompound doesn't--" The look of pain in her eyes turned to terror."You're immune!"
"Now you know."
"But who told you--" She searched his face, shaking her head. "Youdon't know, do you--not really?"
"Know what?"
Instead of replying, she asked, "You brought me here deliberately,didn't you?"
"So we wouldn't be interrupted. You see, Jenny, you're going to tellme where the compound's made."
"It wouldn't do you any good. Don't you see--" He closed his hands onher wrists and jerked her rudely to her feet. He saw her face gowhite. And no wonder: that magnificent, granite hard body, which shehad bought in good faith for her own pleasure, was suddenly out of hercontrol. He grinned. He crushed her mouth against his and kissed her.Limp in his arms, she clung to him and said in a choked, huskywhisper, "I love you, George."
"And you'll make any sacrifice for love," he replied, mocking thedialogue of the television love stories.
"Yes, anything!"
"Then tell me where the compound's manufactured."
"Hold me close, George; never let me go."
How many times had he heard that particular line! It sickened him,hearing it now from Jenny; he had expected something better of her. Hepushed her from him. By accident his fist raked her face. She fellback blood trickling from her mouth. In her eyes he saw shock and avague sense of pain; but both were overridden by adoration. She waslike a whipped puppy, ready to lick his hand.
"I'll tell you, George," she whispered. "But don't leave me." Shepulled herself to her feet and stood beside him, reaching for hishand. "We make it in Hollywood, in the Directorate Building, the partthat used to be a sound stage."
"Thanks, Jenny." He picked up one of the car seats and walked back tothe sedan. She stood motionless watching him. He fitted the seat inplace and put the key in the lock. The starter ground away, but themotor did not turn over.
He glanced back at Jenny. She was smiling inscrutably, "You see,George, you have to stay with me."
He got out of the car and moved toward her.
"I was afraid you were planning to desert me," she went on, "so I tookout the distributor cap while you were getting the firewood."
He stood in front of her. Coldly he demanded, "Where did you put it,Jenny?"
She tilted her lips toward his. "Kiss and tell--maybe."
"I haven't time for games. Where is it?"
His fist shot out. Jenny sprawled on the ground at his feet. Again hesaw the pain and the adoration in her face. But that couldn't beright. She would hate him by this time.
He yanked her to her feet. Her lips were still bleeding and blood camenow from a wound in her cheek. Yet she managed to smile again.
"I don't want to hurt you, Jenny," he told her. "But I have to have--"
"I love you, George. I never thought I'd want to give myself to a man.All the buying doesn't make any difference, does it? Not really. And Inever knew that before!"
With an unconscious movement, she kicked her train aside and he sawthe distributor cap lying beneath it. He picked it up. She flungherself at him screaming. He felt the hammer beat of her heart; herfingers dug into his back like cat claws. Now it didn't matter. He hadthe secret; he could go whenever he wanted to. Nonetheless he pushedher away--tenderly, and with regret. To surrender like this was nobetter than a capitulation to the compound. It was instinctivelyimportant to make her understand that. He knew that much, but hisemotions were churned too close to fever pitch for him to reason outwhat else that implied.
He clipped her neatly on the jaw and put her unconscious body on theground by the fire. He left the map with her so she could find her wayout in the morning; he knew it was really a very short hike to ahighway, where she would be picked up by a passing car or truck.
* * * * *
He drove out the way he had come in--at least he tried to remember.Four times he took a wrong turn and had to backtrack. It was,therefore, dawn before he reached the outskirts of Hollywood. In anyother city he would not have been conspicuous--simply a man on his wayto work; only women slept late. However, Hollywood was off-limits toevery male. The city was not only the seat of the Directorate, but themanufacturing center for the cosmetics industry. And since that gavewomen her charm, it was a business no man worked at.
George had to have a disguise. He stopped on a residential street,where the people were still likely to be in their beds. He read nameson mail boxes until he f
ound a house where an unmarried woman lived.He had no way of knowing if she had a husband on approval with her,but the box was marked "Miss." With any luck he might have got what hewanted without disturbing her, but the woman was a light sleeper andshe caught him as he was putting on the dress. He was sorry he had toslug her, but she gave him no resistance. A spark of hope, a spark oflong-forgotten youth glowed in her eyes; before she slid intounconsciousness.
Wearing the stolen dress, which fit him like a tent, and an enormoushat to hide his face, George parked his sedan near the Directorateand entered the building when it opened at eight. In room after roomautomatons demonstrated how to dress correctly; robot faces displayedthe uses of