The Luckiest Man in DenvKornbluth, C. M. (Cyril M.)
Science
The Luckiest Man in Denv
Kornbluth, C. M. (Cyril M.)
Betrayal -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; War stories
"I know you don't like me," she said pettishly, "but Griffin's such a
fool and I wanted somebody to talk to. Do you mind? What was it like up
there today? Did you see carpets? I wish I had a carpet."
He tried to think about carpets and not the exciting contrast of
metallic cloth and flesh.
"I saw one through an open door," he remembered. "It looked odd, but I
suppose a person gets used to them. Perhaps I didn't see a very good
one. Aren't the good ones very thick?"
"Yes," she said. "Your feet sink into them. I wish I had a _good_
carpet and four chairs and a small table as high as my knees to put
things on and as many pillows as I wanted. Griffin's such a fool. Do
you think I'll ever get those things? I've never caught the eye of a
general. Am I pretty enough to get one, do you think?"
He said uneasily: "Of course you're a pretty thing, Selene. But carpets
and chairs and pillows--" It made him uncomfortable, like the thought
of peering up through binoculars from a parapet.
"I want them," she said unhappily. "I like you very much, but I want so
many things and soon I'll be too old even for the eighty-third level,
before I've been up higher, and I'll spend the rest of my life tending
babies or cooking in the creche or the refectory."
She stopped abruptly, pulled herself together and gave him a smile that
was somehow ghastly in the half-light.
"You bungler," he said, and she instantly looked at the door with the
smile frozen on her face. Reuben took a pistol from under his pillow
and demanded, "When do you expect him?"
"What do you mean?" she asked shrilly. "Who are you talking about?"
"My double. Don't be a fool, Selene. May and I--" he savored it--"May
and I know all about it. He warned me to beware of a diversion by a
woman while the double slipped in and killed me. When do you expect
him?"
"I really _do_ like you," Selene sobbed. "But Almon promised to take
me up there and I _knew_ when I was where they'd see me that I'd meet
somebody really important. I really do like you, but soon I'll be too
old--"
"Selene, listen to me. Listen to me! You'll get your chance. Nobody but
you and me will know that the substitution didn't succeed!"
"Then I'll be spying for you on Almon, won't I?" she asked in a choked
voice. "All I wanted was a few nice things before I got too old. All
right, I was supposed to be in your arms at 2350 hours."
* * * * *
It was 2349. Reuben sprang from bed and stood by the door, his pistol
silenced and ready. At 2350 a naked man slipped swiftly into the room,
heading for the bed as he raised a ten-centimeter poignard. He stopped
in dismay when he realized that the bed was empty.
Reuben killed him with a bullet through the throat.
"But he doesn't look a bit like me," he said in bewilderment, closely
examining the face. "Just in a general way."
Selene said dully: "Almon told me people always say that when they see
their doubles. It's funny, isn't it? He looks just like you, really."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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