(author of "Mind of Tomorrow")
When the enemy believes the worst of you, they
won't settle for anything except the worst!
Volcek believed his weapon would be humane, and
less destructive than the dreaded fusion bombs.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Future combined with Science Fiction Stories July 1951.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Stefanie was still white and weak, but the worry on her face hadnothing to do with her recent sickness as she rushed about the small,crudely furnished apartment, trying to appear normal. Johann Volcekstudied his young wife, worrying more about her than the meeting forthe moment.
If the child had only lived....
Then he smiled a bit ironically, before letting his mind come upwith the old palliatives. There'd be other children for him andStefanie—and for this half of the world. The other half would simplyhave to suffer painlessly through a generation, for the good of thewhole world.
"But the Director, Johann...." Stefanie's voice was on the thinnestedge of hysteria. "Johann, to our place! If I'd known, I could havemade curtains, at least. And can you be sure...."
"It isn't suspicion, radost moya," he assured her quickly. "I told youthe Director trusts me—he has to. And he simply wants to see you. Youknow he's a family man himself."
But he let her work, fussing about the place, refilling his coffee,brushing an imaginary speck of dust off his coat. The doctor had toldhim that work was best for her—anything to get her mind off the lostchild until there could be others. And the Director may have been abetter distraction than any of the others, aside from the flattery ofit.
Then the telephone on the wall rang sharply, and he answered it,smiling back at her. "Volcek."
"Good, Johann." It was the Director's Secretary of Science, JeanPetrecci and Volcek's sponsor. "We shall be there soon—and it's abeautiful day for the test, not so?"
Johann agreed quickly, though he had not yet had time to look throughthe windows even, with Stefanie's worry over the visit of the Director.But as he looked out now, he saw that it was a good day, clear, withonly thin wisps of cloud in the sky.
Then, in the street below, there was a stirring, first of big cars,and then the shouts of the people. It was silenced, and the creakingelevator began to thump upwards. Stefanie made a last frantic dash intothe bedroom, brushing nervously at her hair, and came out just as theknock sounded.
Johann had been right—the Director must have trusted him, since thebig man had come up with only three of his guards, and now camethrusting his broad shoulders in, his greyed head not even dartingabout the room, his eyes leading him toward the Volceks.
Quick admiration filled his eyes at sight of Stefanie, and his gruffvoice was soft, the voice the radio brought them when he was the Fatherof the State, or when he was telling them of the new plans for morefood and better living.
"Sit—I'm only one of you, you know. Ah, Johann, this is the littleStefanie. I've wanted to meet you, to see the one Johann has spoken ofso often." His language was perfect, but with the queer stilted effectit always had when he was not reading a prepared speech.
Watching Stefanie stammer over the honor of the Director's presence,and then relax gradually as the spell of the man took over, Johannbegan to smile more naturally. The Director was talking of his ownbeginnings—in much less than this—and the moving they would soon bedoing, into a newer