L sprague de camp, p.6
L Sprague De Camp, page 6
"What is it then, my boy?" Johnson dragged up a chair and plumped fatly into it. "Are you having mental disturbances, too?"
"You know, don't you?" Hale cried. "You did it, damn you — you flabby devil! You tricked me into it! Very neatly, too?"
"Whatever are you talking about, William?"
Hale lay and glowered impotently in the dusk. "You know damned well what I mean. When I was poor, I didn't even think about dying. When I did, there was nothing terrible about the idea. I wouldn't be giving up much — lousy little job, two-by-four home, the subway whenever I wanted to travel —"
Johnson interrupted thoughtfully: "The slave doesn't fear death."
"Right, you slimy double-crosser! Sure, you gave me the partnership and all that goes with it — except one thing."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, William. The partnership was your idea, you know. You forced me into it. Haven't I kept my part of the bargain?"
"Yes, you have. But the more you gave me, the more I stood to lose. For the first time in my life I have something to live for: money, cars, a horse, and power. That's what hurts most." He pulled at Johnson's sleeve. "You can't kid me into thinking it's a long way off yet. I probably won't die tonight; but you'll go on, immortal, and I'll kick off in a few years!"
Johnson put his hands on his knees and looked at Hale for a while. At last he asked gently: "Are you suggesting that I make you immortal, William? Is that it?"
"Huh?" Hale sat up, heedless of the stab of pain in his head. "You mean you could? You would?"
"I have no objection to doing so, if you want it sufficiently, and you've thought of its consequences."
"What do you mean, consequences? It's easy for you to be cool about it. You're not going to die, so you can afford to weigh the advantages and disadvantages, if any."
"But, William, there are disadvantages, you know. I have often been able to sense your hostility to me when we attended the theater. Why do you think I'm not interested in those affairs? To me there's no such thing as a new joke or a new plot. As for music, I've heard every old masterpiece a thousand times, and all the new music I find to be merely a slightly different aspect of the old. Times change, new generations arise, but it's always the same in a different guise. I get new problems, but somehow the old methods of solving them still work very efficiently.
"When you've lived as long as I have, business is the only thing that can interest you. Luckily I still find the business of running Hell extremely fascinating after all these years. That is my only amusement, and I admit it's enough."
Hale answered: "I don't care. I still don't see you giving up your immortality. Anything is better than this horrible fear. I've got too much to lose. I don't want to die!"
"Then you mean you have decided that you want immortality?"
"Yes. If you can like it, I can."
"Very well, partner." Johnson stood up and shook Hale's hand. "Since you want it, it's yours."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Just what I said. You're immortal."
"I'm im — Just like that? I mean, don't you do anything?"
"That's all. I assure you you're immortal. I admit it may seem odd, from your point of view. But you should realize by now that I work by everyday, matter-of-fact methods."
"Huh, I still don't get it. How does it work?"
"Immortality? By what is commonly regarded as luck. In our cases, a never-ending series of fortunate accidents. Guns pointed at us happen not to go off, or something happens to the gunners. Accidents occur a moment after we are safely out of the way. We happen not to contract fatal illnesses; our systems happen not to age or deteriorate. There is really nothing magical about it."
"Yeah. On the surface."
"Quite so." Johnson smiled through the gloom. "On the surface."
Hale's first demonstration of his immortality was his quick recovery. He could sit up without vertigo. Johnson turned on the lights and resumed his seat. Before Hale could reopen the subject of immortality, he said: "I understand your swimming pool will be completed when we get back. Have you thought of any ceremony in opening it?"
"I've been wondering about that. Just taking a swim doesn't sound so good. There ought to be some kind of blow-out, only the people I used to know wouldn't fit in."
"Don't you know anybody at all?"
"Just about nobody. Of course, I could invite the superintendent and his wife, or the girl friend I gave the air to. They'd fit in nicely."
"Come now, William. I'm entirely serious. I know I'm not much company for a lonely young man. And you have been lonely, haven't you?"
Hale had to realize that that was the fact, despite his lavish possessions. He now knew that that was the reason for his restlessness. He hadn't been seeing anybody but Johnson and his servants.
"Well," Hale admitted, "I was sort of playing around with the idea of inviting Banner. But he'd turn me down cold after the dirty trick I played on him."
"Banner? Oh, yes, the advertising man who gave you the ... uh ... job. He has a daughter, hasn't he? Why don't you ask them?"
Hale shook his head. "They wouldn't come."
"They might. Ask them to bring their friends. All they can do is snub you. And the daughter — she gets her pictures in the papers quite often. Pretty, isn't she?"
"A pip!"
"I agree. A very appealing girl indeed. If you're interested in meeting her, I believe it's worth the risk of a snub."
"Yeah. I suppose it is."
"Is there anything you want before I go, William?"
"No, thanks. I'll be all right."
Johnson left. Hale lay looking up at the softly illuminated ceiling. Damn it, he thought, there's always something to take the kick out of life, and it's always the reality that does it. Who would have thought that he could get tired of his apartment? Like everyone else he enjoyed elbow room but, except for purely functional reasons, there was no incentive for going from one room to another. Or take his horse and cars. Riding had degenerated into routine. And now the yacht. He had imagined himself riding around grandly, taking long cruises when he felt like it. Possibly the papers would have pictures of him and his yacht, and the thought of making other people envious was an added satisfaction. He hadn't thought of the inconveniences.
Damn reality! First he'd been seasick and afraid of death. Both had vanished; but now he realized that, besides having had the zest taken from sailing by his sickness, he had transferred his loneliness from the city to the ship. For the whole week end he would eat, sleep, look at the water, and listen to Johnson orate. That was reality.
But it all stemmed from his loneliness, he knew. Once he met Gloria and her friends, everything would be all right. There was the kind of girl he'd always wanted to know — glamorous, beautiful —
On the first day of his cruise, he was impatient to be home.
-
Chapter X
Hale was happy, for several reasons. Johnson was away from the city on business. The pool was even better than he'd been able to imagine from blueprints. The floor was covered with soft, electrically warmed rubber tiling; the walls were quartz glass on all sides; enough room had been left on the sides of the pool for tables and lounging chairs, palms, an orchestra stand, and rubber mattresses for those who wanted to sun themselves.
It was swell, he thought. He let his white toweling robe fall open. He felt more aristocratic than a Roman emperor. If he could only continue feeling that way he couldn't fail to impress her.
He hadn't seen anyone but the press photographers yet. The guests were dressing. The fact that for once he wasn't the only person occupying the place gratified him.
Then Banner came in. He was probably sensitive about his shape, which was rather like Alexander P. Johnson's only taller, for he wore a business suit instead of being dressed for swimming. He strode up combatively. "You Hale?" he demanded.
Hale hesitated."Yes, Mr. Banner."
"Never recognize you all cleaned up," Banner snapped. He stepped back and glowered at Hale until the latter grew uneasy. Then his face suddenly cleared and he thumped Hale's shoulder approvingly. "You didn't have me fooled for a second. I can spot a winner every time."
"You're not sore at me?" Hale asked incredulously.
"Me sore at you? What for?" Banner looked hurt. "You ought to know me better than that. Any man who'd keep another from rising is a heel. Besides, seeing you make good boosts my own ego. Shows what a good judge of character I am. Of course, I wasn't too happy when you quit. Nobody likes to lose a good man. I kind of thought maybe Gloria and I shouldn't come here. But what the hell, I like you. And, as Johnson says, you don't know too many people. Meeting Gloria's crowd'll perk you up."
"Johnson?"
"Your partner."
"Do you know him?"
"Met him through the Businessmen's Club. By the way" — Banner's voice became confidential — "remember what you said about marrying my daughter, the time you busted in on me? Still got that idea in your head?"
Hale flushed. "That was just a bluff. All I've seen of her is her pictures —"
"They're nothing like her, Hale! Can't get her skin and personality in halftones, you know." He squeezed Hale's arm. "Don't jump into anything on my say-so. But I'll tell you straight from the shoulder — you're the kind of guy I'd like for a son-in-law. You have guts and you know where you're going. Know what Emerson used to say? 'The world steps aside for the man who knows where he's going.' Smart fellow, that Emerson."
Hale was silent. It was true: while he had been heading straight for his goal, the world had stepped aside for him. Now that he had his partnership, he noticed signs of indecision in himself. For instance, he allowed his servants and Johnson to run his affairs practically without argument. Worst of all, he was waiting almost shyly for Gloria Banner.
He straightened his shoulders and tied his robe belt more tightly. He'd look her over, and if he liked her he'd just go after her the way he'd gone after his partnership.
But he wasn't prepared for the effect that she habitually created. When she entered, her concentrated femininity struck him like a shock.
She was of medium size, dark, and beautiful. She had just the right amount of hair. Her robe was tied so as to show the contrast between her white suit and her fine dark skin. Her features were small and finely matched and haughtily confident.
Naturally, the partly anaesthetized Hale didn't analyze her to that extent. He felt only uncritical, inarticulate admiration, particularly when she stopped and stood, very still and regal gazing at the pool. The photographers went into action.
"Hi, Gloria!" Banner shouted irreverently.
That shocked Hale. But then, he thought, he couldn't expect her own father to address her the way one should.
"Daddy! Isn't it wonderful?" Hale thought her voice resembled the tone of an exceptionally mellow flute, and that she ran toward them with the grace of a ballerina.
"Mmmm, it's grand! Why can't we have one, daddy?"
Banner turned to Hale for sympathy, jerking his head at her. "My worthless, spendthrift daughter speaking. Look here, loafer, if you'd stop frittering and get yourself a job — any kind, even if it only pays a couple of hundred thousand a year — we could afford one."
She wasn't listening to him. She smiled brilliantly at Hale. "Aren't you the nice man who asked us?" Her voice made Hale feel that they were alone and had known each other since childhood.
"Well, if that isn't ignorant of me!" exclaimed Banner. "Gloria, this is William Hale. The guy I told you about — the one who broke into my office looking like a bum and —"
Hale broke in swiftly: "I've seen a lot of your pictures in the newspapers."
"Oh, they were terrible. They always make me look so fat!"
"You, fat? Why, you ... you're —" His glottis closed up with emotion.
Neither looked away from the other. Hale was unaware of Banner, until a ponderously uneasy squirming at his side gave way to: "You two don't seem to have much use for me."
Her eyes broke away from Hale, and she said unconvincingly: "Oh, no, daddy! We'd love to have you stay here with us, but we know business comes first and you have to make friends with the newspapermen."
"Yeah," Banner grinned walking away. "How did I happen to forget that excuse? See you when you're able to notice me."
Through all this, Hale had taken his eyes off her face only long enough to glance at her hair, whose top came to the level of his eyes, convincing him that she was the perfect height for him.
Her friends entered loudly. She put on a bathing cap and pulled him to the edge of the pool. "Let's be the first ones in — Billie-willie!"
"Billie-willie?" he asked, slightly embarrassed.
"I can't call you William or Bill," she whispered conspiratorially. "Not when we're alone together. It'll be a secret for just the two of us. You don't mind, do you, Billie-willie?"
He didn't. He felt the pleasant outrage you feel when somebody gives your name an unexpected but intimate twist. He wanted her to call him that every time they were alone, and he wanted to be alone with her a lot.
"No," he whispered back. "I think it's ... swell."
She wrinkled her nose at him. The room was filling with chattering people who made enough noise for a movie storm scene. But Gloria had the rare knack of making a man forget that other people were living. She wriggled out of her robe, smiled back at him, and took a perfectly ordinary dive.
That made him feel even better. He knew he was a miserable diver. But, while her eyes were on him, he wasn't afraid of smacking the water with his stomach. As a result he did fairly well, and came up with his face a foot from hers.
They trod water abstractedly. He said her bathing cap gave her face a heart shape and she said it was a horrid old thing, and he said he'd like anything she wore. They might have gone on this way indefinitely if a man hadn't yelled: "Hey! Got room for us down there, Mr. Hale?"
They came to and swam off slowly, close together, oblivious to the men and girls doing neat dives all around them. The spell of intimacy was somehow unbroken, though the photographers were flashing bulbs with the fury of madmen, and the orchestra broke into a crash of music.
The thin moon was setting when they took a tray of sandwiches and stole of to a deserted corner and sat on an inflated mattress. "Happy?" he said eagerly.
She nodded and sighed. "It must be grand fun, having a swimming pool in your own home."
He watched her take a dainty bite on a sandwich. "It is, when you're here. Otherwise it would be about the same as owning a bathtub."
He had known her for several hours, but meeting her gaze still had a physical shock for him. Her eyes were large, deep, gravely thoughtful, and probably myopic.
He said: "You make everything seem — I don't know how to put it — exciting is the word, I guess. I've never known a girl like you."
"I'm just like any other girl —"
"No, you're not! You have glamour. You're beautiful ... and everything."
Her smile was touchingly uncertain. "I like you, too. I don't want you to feel alone any more."
"What do you usually do?" he asked suddenly.
"What? What do you mean?"
"I mean for amusement. Do you like plays and concerts?"
"I do, but the boys I used to go with never seemed to care much for them."
He opened his mouth. Used to go with? Did she mean what he hoped she meant?
"I'm afraid I don't know much about music and the theater. I'd love to learn. Would you teach me, Billie-willie?"
He trembled with excitement. "We'll go to plays and concerts and art galleries, and we'll see only the best movies together," he said with a rush of enthusiasm.
"I'd love that. I want to like everything you like."
He thought happily, all she needs is molding. Her beauty was enough for any man, but she also had intelligence and the desire to learn. All he had to do was teach her to enjoy the things he liked. Then she would be a fit mate for Lucifer's partner — lovely, dainty, and, ultimately, intellectual. Training her would give him the creative joy of the master sculptor.
She did not resist when he put his arm around her.
-
Chapter XI
Johnson was very patient. Realizing that Hale was distracted, he did not insist on the co-operation he deserved. In the few times that he succeeded in finding Hale at home and tried to continue his lessons in methods of ruling, he treated Hale with remarkable tact. "If anyone has the right and the power to gain happiness" he said once, "it's you, Don't rush yourself. Think this thing out. If you need any help, ask me for it. Meanwhile, I won't bother you until your mind is free. But, William, I want to impress this on you — any time you're stuck, just remember what you are."
