Science fiction; Scientists -- Fiction; Short stories; Weapons -- Fiction
"Do you remember me five years ago?" Dell's face became more haggard,
as if the memory shamed him. "Do you remember when I told the atomic
scientists to examine their guts instead of their consciences?"
"Yes. You certainly _have_ changed."
"And so can other men. There is a way. I need your help desperately,
Curt--"
The face of the aging biochemist contorted again with unbearable pain.
His forehead beaded with sweat as he clenched his skull between his
vein-knotted hands.
"Dell! What is it?"
"It will pass," Dr. Dell breathed through clenched teeth. "I have some
medicine--in my bedroom. I'm afraid I'll have to excuse myself tonight.
There's so much more I have to say to you, but we'll continue our talk
in the morning, Curt. I'm sorry--"
He stumbled out, refusing Curt's offer of aid with a grim headshake.
The fire crackled loudly within the otherwise silent room. Curt
felt cold at the descending chill of the night, his mind bewildered
at Dell's barrage, some of it so reasonable, some of it so utterly
confused. And there was no clue to the identity of the powerful force
that had made so great a change in the once militant scientist.
Slowly Curt mounted the staircase of the old house and went to the room
Dell had assigned them. Louise was in bed reading a murder mystery.
"Secret mission completed?" she asked.
Curt sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm afraid something terrible
is wrong with Dell. Besides the neurotic guilt complex because of his
war work, he showed signs of a terrific and apparently habitual pain in
his head. If that should be brain tumor, it might explain his erratic
notions, his abandonment of his career."
"Oh, I hope it's not that!"
* * * * *
It seemed to Curt that he had slept only minutes before he was roused
by sounds in the night. He rolled over and switched on the light. His
watch said two o'clock. Louise raised up in sharp alarm.
"What is it?" she whispered.
"I thought I heard something. There it is again!"
"It sounds like someone in pain. It must be Dell!"
Curt leaped from the bed and wrestled into his bathrobe. As he hurried
toward Dell's room, there was another deep groan that ended in a
shuddering sob of unbearable agony.
He burst into the scientist's room and switched on the light. Dell
looked up, eyes glazed with pain.
"Dr. Dell!"
"Curt--I thought I had time left, but this is as far as I can go--Just
remember all I said tonight. Don't forget a word of it." He sat up
rigidly, hardly breathing in the effort of control. "The responsibility
for the coming destruction of civilization lies at the doors of the
scientist mercenaries. Don't allow it, Curt. Get them to abandon the
laboratories of the warriors. Get them to reclaim their honor--"
He fell back upon the pillow, his face white with pain and shining with
sweat. "Brown--see Brown. He can tell you the--the rest."
"I'll go for a doctor," said Curt. "Who have you had? Louise will stay
with you."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account