Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. DEEPFREEZE _By_ _Robert Donald Locke_ Life and the future belong to the strong--so Dollard laughed as he fled Earth and Mankind's death agony. But the last laugh was yet to come.... * * * * * Edwin Dollard's nervous stubby fingers spilled three precious drops of his fifth Scotch highball, as he veered his head away from the horrors on the telescreen. He was in time to observe Garth enter by the paneled tunnel door. "Two more hours--and the ship will be ready," Garth announced. "The men still know nothing." His thin lips cracked into a forced smile. "I slipped them the poison at noon mess. There'll be no tales out of those greaseballs." Dollard's pudgy features relaxed. "Just you and I, Garth ... to survive. The others--stupid sheep--let them die!" Lust spread his heavy cheeks into a wide grin. "As for women, there'll be time enough for them ... on Venus." "I know," said Garth slowly. "Plague-untouched women. It'll be like being reborn again." His pained somber eyes lit up. "It's right good we understand each other...." [Illustration] "Just see that we continue understanding one another," Edwin Dollard snapped. "I'm still the boss." The last of America's industrial tycoons refocussed his attention on the world telecasts. Since breakfast, he had sat glued to the news while a battery of video announcers reported from central strongholds on the progress of the bacterial epidemic that already had swept the Atlantic seaboard. "Any late news?" Garth asked, over Dollard's shoulder. "For your information, I picked up a flash from Denver. Just before you came in--" "Bad, eh?" "You said it, Garth. A thousand new cases. Some think the Asiatics got another two or three missiles through the Canadian radar barrier. More likely, the germs hitch-hiked westward on human carriers, gangs of them streaming out of the eastern states. The mobs are like vermin; you can't hold 'em back. They sneak through the quarantine at a hundred points." "They're people, aren't they?" said Garth, quietly. "People? They're no more people than the loutish mechs you just did away with today." "Under your orders," Garth pointed out. "But it had to be done. Let's not be squeamish children--" "Yes, so it did. You're safe enough." "You and I both," Dollard completed. "As long as we're together, we're both safe...."