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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30034 ***
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+ _The entities were utterly, ambitiously evil; their
+ line of defense, apparently, was absolutely impregnable._
+
+
+I'll Kill You Tomorrow
+
+By Helen Huber
+
+Illustrated by Kelly Freas
+
+
+It was not a sinister silence. No silence is sinister until it acquires
+a background of understandable menace. Here there was only the night
+quiet of Maternity, the silence of noiseless rubber heels on the
+hospital corridor floor, the faint brush of starched white skirts
+brushing through doorways into darkened and semi-darkened rooms.
+
+But there was something wrong with the silence in the "basket room" of
+Maternity, the glass-walled room containing row on row, the tiny hopes
+of tomorrow. The curtain was drawn across the window through which,
+during visiting hours, peered the proud fathers who did the hoping. The
+night-light was dim.
+
+The silence should not have been there.
+
+Lorry Kane, standing in the doorway, looked out over the rows of silent
+baskets and felt her blonde hair tighten at the roots. The tightening
+came from instinct, even before her brain had a chance to function, from
+the instincts and training of a registered nurse.
+
+Thirty-odd babies grouped in one room and--_complete silence_.
+
+Not a single whimper. Not one tiny cry of protest against the annoying
+phenomenon of birth.
+
+Thirty babies--_dead_? That was the thought that flashed, unbidden, into
+Lorry's pretty head. The absurdity of it followed swiftly, and Lorry
+moved on rubber soles between a line of baskets. She bent down and
+explored with practiced fingers.
+
+A warm, living bundle in a white basket.
+
+The feeling of relief was genuine. Relief, even from an absurdity, is a
+welcome thing. Lorry smiled and bent closer.
+
+Staring up at Lorry from the basket were two clear blue eyes. Two eyes,
+steady and fixed in a round baby face. An immobile, pink baby face
+housing two blue eyes that stared up into Lorry's with a quiet
+concentration that was chilling.
+
+Lorry said, "What's the matter with you?" She spoke in a whisper and was
+addressing herself. She'd gone short on sleep lately--the only way,
+really, to get a few hours with Pete. Pete was an interne at General
+Hospital, and the kind of a homely grinning carrot-top a girl like Lorry
+could put into dreams as the center of a satisfactory future.
+
+But all this didn't justify a case of jitters in the "basket room."
+
+Lorry said. "Hi, short stuff," and lifted Baby Newcomb--Male, out of his
+crib for a cuddling.
+
+Baby Newcomb didn't object. The blue eyes came closer. The week-old eyes
+with the hundred-year-old look. Lorry laid the bundle over her shoulder
+and smiled into the dimness.
+
+"You want to be president, Shorty?" Lorry felt the warmth of a new life,
+felt the little body wriggle in snug contentment. "I wouldn't advise it.
+Tough job." Baby Newcomb twisted in his blanket. Lorry stiffened.
+
+_Snug contentment?_
+
+Lorry felt two tiny hands clutch and dig into her throat. Not just
+pawing baby hands. Little fingers that reached and explored for the
+windpipe.
+
+She uncuddled the soft bundle, held it out. There were the eyes. She
+chilled. No imagination here. No spectre from lack of sleep.
+
+Ancient murder-hatred glowing in new-born eyes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Careful, you fool! You'll drop this body." A thin piping voice. A
+shrill symphony in malevolence.
+
+Fear weakened Lorry. She found a chair and sat down. She held the boy
+baby in her hands. Training would not allow her to drop Baby Newcomb.
+Even if she had fainted, she would not have let go.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The shrill voice: "It was stupid of me. Very stupid."
+
+Lorry was cold, sick, mute.
+
+"Very stupid. These hands are too fragile. There are no muscles in the
+arms. I couldn't have killed you."
+
+"Please--I ..."
+
+"Dreaming? No. I'm surprised at--well, at your surprise. You have a
+trained mind. You should have learned, long ago, to trust your senses."
+
+"I don't understand."
+
+"Don't look at the doorway. Nobody's coming in. Look at me. Give me a
+little attention and I'll explain."
+
+"Explain?" Lorry pulled her eyes down to the cherubic little face as she
+parroted dully.
+
+"I'll begin by reminding you that there are more things in existence
+than your obscene medical books tell you about."
+
+"Who are you? What are you?"
+
+"One of those things."
+
+"You're not a baby!"
+
+"Of course not. I'm ..." The beastly, brittle voice drifted into silence
+as though halted by an intruding thought. Then the thought voiced--voiced
+with a yearning at once pathetic and terrible: "It would be nice to kill
+you. Someday I will. Someday I'll kill you if I can find you."
+
+"Why? Why?" Insane words in an insane world. But life had not stopped
+even though madness had taken over. "Why?"
+
+The voice was matter-of-fact again. No more time for pleasant daydreams.
+"I'm something your books didn't tell you about. Naturally you're
+bewildered. Did you ever hear of a bodyless entity?"
+
+Lorry shuddered in silence.
+
+"You've heard of bodyless entities, of course--but you denied their
+existence in your smug world of precise tidy detail. I'm a bodyless
+entity. I'm one of a swarm. We come from a dimension your mind wouldn't
+accept even if I explained it, so I'll save words. We of the swarm seek
+unfoldment--fulfillment--even as you in your stupid, blind world. Do you
+want to hear more?"
+
+"I ..."
+
+"You're a fool, but I enjoy practicing with these new vocal chords, just
+as I enjoyed flexing the fingers and muscles. That's why I revealed
+myself. We are, basically of course, parasites. In the dimension where
+we exist in profusion, evolution has provided for us. There, we seek out
+and move into a dimensional entity far more intelligent than yourself.
+We destroy it in a way you wouldn't understand, and it is not important
+that you should. In fact, I can't see what importance there is in your
+existing at all."
+
+"You plan to--kill all these babies?"
+
+"Let me congratulate you. You've finally managed to voice an intelligent
+question. The answer is, no. We aren't strong enough to kill them. We
+dwelt in a far more delicate dimension than this one and all was in
+proportion. That was our difficulty when we came here. We could find no
+entities weak enough to take possession of until we came upon this
+roomful of infants."
+
+"Then, if you're helpless ..."
+
+"What do we plan to do? That's quite simple. These material entities
+will grow. We will remain attached--ingrained, so to speak. When the
+bodies enlarge sufficiently ..."
+
+"_Thirty potential assassins...._" Lorry spoke again to herself, then
+hurled the words back into her own mind as her sickness deepened.
+
+The shrill chirping: "What do you mean, potential? The word expresses a
+doubt. Here there is none." The entity's chuckle sounded like a baby,
+content over a full bottle. "Thirty certain assassins."
+
+"But why must you kill?"
+
+Lorry was sure the tiny shoulders shrugged. "Why? I don't know. I never
+thought to wonder. Why must you join with a man and propagate some day?
+Why do you feel sorry for what you term an unfortunate? Explain your
+instincts and I'll explain mine."
+
+Lorry felt herself rising. Stiffly, she put Baby Newcomb back into his
+basket. As she did so, a ripple of shrill, jerky laughter crackled
+through the room. Lorry put her hands to her ears. "You know I can't say
+anything. You'd keep quiet. They'd call me mad."
+
+"Precisely."
+
+Malicious laughter, like driven sleet, cut into her ears as she fled
+from the room.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Peter Larchmont, M.D., was smoking a quick cigarette by an open
+fire-escape door on the third floor. He turned as Lorry came down the
+corridor, flipped his cigarette down into the alley and grinned. "Women
+shouldn't float on rubber heels," he said. "A man should have warning."
+
+Lorry came close. "Kiss me. Kiss me--hard."
+
+Pete kissed her, then held her away. "You're trembling. Anticipation,
+pet?" He looked into her face and the grin faded. "Lorry, what is it?"
+
+"Pete--Pete. I'm crazy. I've gone mad. Hold me."
+
+He could have laughed, but he had looked closely into her eyes and he
+was a doctor. He didn't laugh. "Tell me. Just stand here. I'll hang onto
+you and you tell me."
+
+"The babies--they've gone mad." She clung to him. "Not exactly that.
+Something's taken them over. Something terrible. Oh, Pete! Nobody would
+believe me."
+
+"I believe the end result," he said, quietly. "That's what I'm for,
+angel. When you shake like this I'll always believe. But I'll have to
+know more. And I'll hunt for an answer."
+
+"There isn't any answer, Pete. I _know_."
+
+"We'll still look. Tell me more, first."
+
+"There isn't any more." Her eyes widened as she stared into his with the
+shock of a new thought. "Oh, Lord! One of them talked to me, but maybe
+he--or it--won't talk to you. Then you'll never know for sure! You'll
+think I'm ..."
+
+"Stop it. Quit predicting what I'll do. Let's go to the nursery."
+
+They went to the nursery and stayed there for three-quarters of an
+hour. They left with the tinny laughter filling their minds--and the
+last words of the monstrous entity.
+
+"We'll say no more, of course. Perhaps even this incident has been
+indiscreet. But it's in the form of a celebration. Never before has a
+whole swarm gotten through. Only a single entity on rare occasions."
+
+Pete leaned against the corridor wall and wiped his face with the sleeve
+of his jacket. "We're the only ones who know," he said.
+
+"Or ever will know." Lorry pushed back a lock of his curly hair. She
+wanted to kiss him, but this didn't seem to be the place or the time.
+
+"We can never tell anyone."
+
+"We'd look foolish."
+
+"We've got a horror on our hands and we can't pass it on."
+
+"What are we going to do?" Lorry asked.
+
+"I don't know. Let's recap a little. Got a cigarette?"
+
+They went to the fire door and dragged long and deep on two from Lorry's
+pack. "They'll be quiet from now on. No more talking--just baby
+squalls."
+
+"And thirty little assassins will go into thirty homes," Lorry said.
+"All dressed in soft pink and blue, all filled with hatred. Waiting,
+biding their time, growing more clever." She shuddered.
+
+"The electric chair will get them all, eventually."
+
+"But how many will they get in the meantime?"
+
+Pete put his arms around her and drew her close and whispered into her
+ear. "There's nothing we can do--nothing."
+
+"We've got to do something." Lorry heard again the thin, brittle
+laughter following her, taunting her.
+
+"It was a bad dream. It didn't happen. We'll just have to sleep it off."
+
+She put her cheek against his. The rising stubble of his beard scratched
+her face. She was grateful for the rough touch of solid reality.
+
+Pete said, "The shock will wear out of our minds. Time will pass. After
+a while, we won't believe it ourselves."
+
+"That's what I'm afraid of."
+
+"It's got to be that way."
+
+"We've got to do something."
+
+Pete lowered his arm wearily. "Yeah--we've got to do something. Where
+there's nothing that can be done. What are we--miracle workers?"
+
+"We've got to do something."
+
+"Sure--finish out the watch and then get some sleep."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lorry awoke with the lowering sun in her window. It was a blood red sun.
+She picked up the phone by her bedside. "Room 307 Resident's extension."
+
+Pete answered drowsily. Lorry said, "Tell me--did I dream, or did it
+really happen."
+
+"I was going to ask you the same thing. I guess it happened. What are
+you doing?"
+
+"Lying in bed."
+
+"So am I. But two different beds. Things are done all wrong."
+
+"Want to take a chance and sneak over? I've got an illegal coffee pot."
+
+"Leave the door unlocked."
+
+Lorry put on the coffee. She showered and got into her slip. She was
+brushing her hair when Pete came in. He looked at her and extended
+beckoning, clutching fingers. "The hell with phantoms. Come here."
+
+After a couple of minutes, Lorry pulled away and poured the coffee. She
+reached for her uniform. Pete said, "Don't put it on yet."
+
+"Too dangerous--leaving it off."
+
+He eyed her dreamily. "I'll dredge up will power. I'll also get scads of
+fat rich clients. Then we'll get married so I can assault you legally."
+
+Lorry studied him. "You're not even listening to yourself. What is it,
+Pete? What have you dreamed up?"
+
+"Okay. I've got an idea. You said something would have to be done."
+
+"What?"
+
+"A drastic cure for a drastic case. With maybe disaster as the end
+product."
+
+"Tell me."
+
+"I'll tell you a little, but not too much."
+
+"Why not all?"
+
+"Because if we ever land in court. I want you to be able to say under
+oath, 'He didn't tell me what he planned to do.'"
+
+"I don't like that."
+
+"I don't care if you like it or not. Tell me, what's the one basic thing
+that stands out in your mind about these--entities?"
+
+"That they're ..."
+
+"Fragile?"
+
+"Yes--fragile."
+
+"Give me some more coffee."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Lorry demanded to know what was in Pete's mind. All she got was kissed,
+and she did not see Pete again until eleven o'clock that night. He found
+her in the corridor in Maternity and motioned her toward the nursery. He
+carried a tray under a white towel. He said, "You watch the door. I'm
+going inside. I'll be about a half an hour."
+
+"What are you going to do?"
+
+"You stay out here and mind your business. Your business will be to
+steer any nosey party away. If you can't, make noise coming in."
+
+Doc Pete turned away and entered the nursery. Lorry stood at the
+doorway, in the silence, under the brooding night-light, and prayed.
+
+Twenty-five minutes later, Pete came out. His face was white and drawn.
+He looked like a man who had lately had a preview of Hell's inverted
+pleasures. His hands trembled. The towel still covered the tray. He
+said, "Watch them close. Don't move ten steps from here." He started
+away--turned back. "All hell is scheduled to break loose in this
+hospital shortly. Let's hope God remains in charge."
+
+Lorry saw the sick dread of his heart underneath his words.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It could have been a major scandal. An epidemic of measles on the
+maternity floor of a modern hospital indicates the unforgivable medical
+sin--carelessness. It was hushed up as much as possible, pending the
+time when the top people could shake off the shock and recover their
+wits. The ultimate recovery of thirty babies was a tribute to everyone
+concerned.
+
+Wan, done-in, Doc Pete drank coffee in Lorry's room. Lorry gave him
+three lumps of sugar and said, "But are you sure the sickness killed the
+entities?"
+
+"Quite sure. Somehow they _knew_ when I made the injections. They
+screamed. They knew they were done for."
+
+"It took courage. Tell me: why are you so strong, so brave? Why are you
+so wonderful?"
+
+"Cut it out. I was scared stiff. If _one_ baby had died, I'd have gone
+through life weighing the cure against the end. It isn't easy to risk
+doing murder--however urgent the need."
+
+She leaned across and kissed him. "And you were all alone. You wouldn't
+let me help. Was that fair?"
+
+He grinned, then sobered. "But I can't help remembering what that--that
+invisible monster said: '_Never before has a whole swarm gotten through.
+Only a single entity on rare occasions._'
+
+"I can't help wondering what happens to those single entities. I think
+of the newspaper headlines I've seen: Child Kills Parents in Sleep.
+Youth Slays Father. I'll probably always wonder--and I'll always
+remember...."
+
+Lorry got up and crossed to him and put her arms around him. "Not
+always," she whispered. "There will be times when I'll make you forget.
+For a little while, anyhow."
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+    This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_ November
+    1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+    copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and
+    typographical errors have been corrected without note.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of I'll Kill You Tomorrow, by Helen Huber
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30034 ***