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Vandenburg + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: center; clear: both;} + h2 {font-weight: normal;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 2em auto; visibility: hidden;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .rgt {text-align: right;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .sp1 {font-size: 150%;} + .bk1 {margin: 2em auto; width: 22em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Observers, by G. L. Vandenburg + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Observers + +Author: G. L. Vandenburg + +Release Date: January 30, 2010 [EBook #31123] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE OBSERVERS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<h1><span class="sp1">THE OBSERVERS</span></h1> + +<h2>By G. L. VANDENBURG</h2> + +<div class="bk1"><p><big><b><i>You can't be too suspicious when +security is at stake. When everybody +who is after a key military +job wears a toupee, it is obviously +a bald case of espionage.</i></b></big></p></div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">A job</span> as laboratory technician +with the Army Weapons +Development Center carried +about as much prestige as a bat +boy in a World Series.</p> + +<p>George Fisher was a laboratory +technician.</p> + +<p>He was a shy but likeable fellow, +a diligent worker and +trustworthy. He didn't talk. He +was rarely talked to. He had no +burning ambition to push himself +ahead in the world. Being +an assistant to the brains was +good enough for him. He had a +commendable talent for minding +his own business.</p> + +<p>In a security job these qualities +counted ahead of scientific +knowledge.</p> + +<p>One day George Fisher turned +up dead. The initial shock and +concern experienced by his superiors +was soon overcome by +the coroner's finding. Suicide.</p> + +<p>Harry Payne was the Civilian +Personnel Director of Fort +Dickson. It was his job to find +a replacement for George Fisher.</p> + +<p>"Miss Conway!" Harry's voice +lashed into the intercom.</p> + +<p>There was an interminable +pause. He cursed under his +breath.</p> + +<p>Then, "Yes, Mr. Payne?"</p> + +<p>"Where the hell were you? +Never mind. Bring me the file +on George Fisher."</p> + +<p>"George Fisher?" Miss Conway +was in her favorite state of +mind ... confusion. "But he's +dead, isn't he?"</p> + +<p>Harry let out a deep anguished +groan. "Yes, Miss Conway, +he's dead. That's why I want his +file. That answer your question?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Be there in a jiffy!"</p> + +<p>Harry could tell she was bubbling +over with smiles as she +spoke. A few more centuries +would pass, he thought, before +they manufactured another +broad as dumb as Miss Conway.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>He stuffed his hands in his +pockets and looked out the window. +Across the parade ground +he could see the Army Weapons +Development Center. He had no +idea what new bomb they might +be working on behind those +heavily guarded fences. He +didn't care.</p> + +<p>He was only concerned with +the people who worked there. +The rest of Fort Dickson used +mostly Civil Service Personnel. +But the barricaded security +jungle across the parade grounds +was more particular about its +hired help. A person's record had +to be spotless almost from the +day of his conception ... or a +person could not even gain entrance.</p> + +<p>Harry had never been inside +Weapons Development. He had +once been to traffic court as a +roaring juvenile eighteen years +before. That was enough to bar +him from even visiting. He realized, +though, that the army +couldn't afford to take chances.</p> + +<p>Hiring new technicians required +an arduous screening +process. Harry loathed it. He was +thankful that the personnel at +Weapons Development were +highly paid and usually permanent. +He never had to hire more +than one person a year.</p> + +<p>Miss Conway swept into the +office and handed Harry the +folder.</p> + +<p>"Thanks," he muttered.</p> + +<p>"Don't mention it, boss."</p> + +<p>Harry called after her as she +went back toward the reception +room.</p> + +<p>"Stay by your desk, will you? +The government may need you."</p> + +<p>A muffled giggle was her only +response.</p> + +<p>Miss Conway was a civil service +employee. She had been +Harry's secretary for six +months. Like most other civil +service personnel, according to +Harry's way of thinking she was +a tower of inefficiency. His chief +annoyance stemmed from the +fact that the army had arbitrarily +placed her in his office. He +had been given no choice in the +matter. It was one hell of a way +to treat a personnel director, he +thought.</p> + +<p>He sat at his desk gloomily +aware of the headaches he'd have +to face in his quest for George +Fisher's replacement. He opened +the folder and glanced at the vital +statistics.</p> + +<p>Fisher, George—Age: 40—Weight: +160—Height: 5′9″—Eyes: +Green—Hair: None—Complexion: +Light—Date of +Employment: 10/7/58—Date of +Departure: 4/12/59—Reason: +Suicide—etc., etc. Harry yawned. +Statistics bored him.</p> + +<p>He turned to a page marked +"Qualifications" and started +reading. The phrase "Education +and experience in nuclear physics +required," caught his eye. +The requirement was no surprise +to him. But whenever he saw it +he took a few minutes off to indulge +his curiosity. What <i>was</i> +the big project at Weapons Development? +He'd love to know. +He wouldn't find out, of course. +And the inability to find out naturally +gave his imagination the +widest latitude. His most persistent +theory involved an atomic +powered rocket capable of knocking +the Russians' manned satellites +out of space. The Russians +were still ahead of everyone and +their latest satellites were +heavily armed. As usual they +were lording it over the rest of +the world. And the rest of the +world had not come up with an +effective answer to this challenge.</p> + +<p>Harry closed the folder. He +glanced at a list of technical +schools. He would call each of +them and ask them to submit a +list of lab technicians. He would +also look over the field of technicians +still left in private enterprise.</p> + +<p>The intercom buzzed.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Miss Conway?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Ralston is here."</p> + +<p>"Who is Miss Ralston?"</p> + +<p>"She has an appointment with +you."</p> + +<p>"An appointment!" Harry was +baffled. "Who made it?"</p> + +<p>"I did. I guess I forgot to tell +you."</p> + +<p>Harry closed his eyes and +counted to ten. "Thank you, +Miss Conway. Will you step into +my office for a moment?" He +tried to control his mounting anger.</p> + +<p>She breezed into the office.</p> + +<p>"Now, Miss Conway, will you +please tell me who is this Miss +Ralston?"</p> + +<p>"She operates 'Ralston Personnel +Consultants'. I think she +wants to talk to you about the +replacement for George Fisher. +You know, the one who died."</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes, I know. And <i>you</i> +know, Miss Conway, we don't do +business through agencies."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Miss Ralston doesn't run +an agency. She told me. Her business +is much more exclusive than +that. She handles very highly +specialized people. That's the +reason why ..."</p> + +<p>"I know. That's why you gave +her an appointment with me," +said the exasperated personnel +director. "Well, you can go right +back out and tell her I've canceled +the appointment. This +is a security job we're filling +and ..."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Before Harry could utter another +syllable his attention was +drawn to the doorway. The view +to the outer office was blocked +by a bundle of curves. The most +alluring female bombshell his +eyes had ever beheld put everything +important out of his mind.</p> + +<p>"I didn't realize you were being +so inconvenienced, Mr. +Payne. I'm terribly sorry." Her +eyes drooped. "I can take my +business elsewhere." Miss Ralston's +voice was just above a half +whisper. The words came out +warm and intoxicating.</p> + +<p>"No, wait! Wait a minute, +Miss Ralston." Harry was out +of his chair and at the door. He +took her arm. "Who said anything +about inconvenience? Come +in. Come in. That'll be all, Miss +Conway. Thanks."</p> + +<p>The secretary giggled and +left. Miss Ralston sat down and +lit a cigarette. Harry noticed she +was wearing a beige knit suit +with a neckline that spoke volumes. +Every curve was in the +right place. Every movement had +another movement all its own.</p> + +<p>Harry knew she was bound to +talk business and he knew there +wasn't much he could do for her +in that direction. But at thirty-five, +and eligible, he just couldn't +let this woman leave his office. +Harry Payne was a sucker +for a gorgeous face. He knew it +and he knew the gorgeous face +knew it.</p> + +<p>"Tell me, Miss Ralston, when +did my secretary arrange this +appointment for you?"</p> + +<p>"I called yesterday."</p> + +<p>Harry arched his eyebrows +and smiled. "Yesterday? What +prompted you to call me?"</p> + +<p>"You're looking for a laboratory +technician, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"What gave you that idea?" +he asked, not caring in the +slightest what gave it to her.</p> + +<p>"I make it my business to +comb the papers every day, Mr. +Payne. I came across the news +of George Fisher's suicide and +called you. Simple as that."</p> + +<p>"You don't waste any time."</p> + +<p>She smiled and pursed her +lips. "Do you?"</p> + +<p>"I try not to."</p> + +<p>"I have seven clients who +would qualify for the job. I'd +appreciate it if you'd see them."</p> + +<p>"Well, as a matter of fact, +Miss Ralston ..."</p> + +<p>She leaned forward with an +inquisitive "Yes?"</p> + +<p>Harry cleared his throat. "As +a matter of fact I'm not supposed +to do business with civilian +agencies."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Payne," she smiled demurely, +"do I look like an +agency? Or do I look like a Personnel +Consultant?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Now there was an opening, +Harry thought, but it might be +best to avoid it. "You're working +to get someone a job. It +amounts to the same thing."</p> + +<p>"I see. Then how <i>do</i> you go +about hiring your new personnel?"</p> + +<p>"I do the soliciting myself. +Sorry, Miss Ralston, but I don't +make the rules and regulations."</p> + +<p>But the lady was undeterred. +She crossed her legs and sank +further into the easy chair. Her +eyes sparkled at Harry.</p> + +<p>"These clients of mine are all +top men, Mr. Payne. Why couldn't +I just leave you their +names? You can still do the soliciting. +I'd be happy to forego +my regular commission on this +job. Call it the value of prestige."</p> + +<p>Harry recognized another +opening and this time plunged +in. "Suppose we talk it over +later. There's a place at Fourth +Avenue and Woodward called +'Maria's.' Best Italian food in +captivity. I'm through at five. +What about you?"</p> + +<p>She didn't have to say anything. +Her eyes told him he +would be having an Italian dinner +that night. And not alone. +She rose and walked in front of +his desk.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad we have something +in common, Mr. Payne. I +can't think well on an empty +stomach either."</p> + +<p>After walking her to the outer +office he came back to his +desk. He took a deep breath and +loosened his tie. Dreams like +Miss Ralston didn't materialize +every day. For a first meeting +he figured he hadn't fared too +badly at all. And if this first +date went well he was sure he'd +be seeing a lot of this girl.</p> + +<p>It did not escape Harry's +mind that here was a girl who +was in the habit of getting what +she wanted. But why not? Her +powers of persuasion were +Grade-A. They were so good +they presented him with one big +problem. He had regulations. +Army regulations. He couldn't +violate them. Miss Ralston, it +was obvious, was going to meet +him solely for the purpose of +getting a client a job. Would +he be able to see her again after +she knew he had no intention of +hiring that client?</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The following morning Harry +entered the office to find his secretary +unusually busy. She was +pecking away furiously at the +typewriter.</p> + +<p>He handed her a sheet of +paper and said, "Miss Conway, +copy these names and addresses +and when they ..."</p> + +<p>"When they come in you'll see +them at half-hour intervals." She +smiled benignly. "Miss Ralston +just called and told me. Pretty +smart chick, huh, boss?"</p> + +<p>Harry did a slow burn and +ambled into his office. Miss Conway +was right, of course, and +that's what annoyed him. It had +been quite a night. He wined +and dined her. They did all the +bright spots. And, wonder of +wonders, on the first date they +wound up at Paula Ralston's +apartment. She was a captivating +hostess, an exquisite dancer and +something of a sorceress. After +one kiss, an unforgettable one, +Harry had agreed to interview +her seven clients.</p> + +<p>But all this was last night, +Harry reminded himself. Today +was a different matter. He was +in the sanctity of his office now +and capable of clearer thinking. +Paula Ralston had accomplished +the first phase of her mission. +The next move was his. <i>Seeing</i> +the clients, he rationalized, was +not violating the regulations. +And for the moment it satisfied +her.</p> + +<p>She certainly was a determined +girl. Anyone would think, +watching her operate, that a lab +technician was a job of world-shaking +importance. What the +hell, he shrugged, if the girl +didn't look out for her own interests, +she wouldn't have a successful +business. There's only +one way to keep clients happy +and that's to keep them busy.</p> + +<p>Besides, her maneuvering +wasn't going to work anyway. He +just couldn't hire any of them. +His problem now was to stall her +for a couple of days so he could +keep seeing her. In the end he +might possibly tell her the army +had refused to accept any of +them.</p> + +<p>He glanced out the window +and saw the Weapons Development +Center across the parade +ground. Business appeared to be +going on as usual. Routine. +Quiet. Cautious. <i>High time I +start thinking seriously about +that replacement</i>, he thought.</p> + +<p>There was a knock at the +door.</p> + +<p>"Come in."</p> + +<p>Miss Conway bounced in. +"They've started to arrive. The +first one is a Mister Thompson."</p> + +<p>"Okay, let's get started. Send +him in."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Thompson was a small, roundish +man in his mid-forties. He +remained quite at ease during +the interview. Harry began the +session in the usual dull manner, +formulating his questions from +the several sheets of information +Mr. Thompson had brought +with him.</p> + +<p>It wasn't long before Harry +detected something unusual +about the man. But he couldn't +determine what it was. He became +more alert, more interested +as the interview progressed.</p> + +<p>"Where are you from originally, +Mr. Thompson?"</p> + +<p>"Chicago."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes." He glanced at the +written information. "I see you +went to the University."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. My practical experience +is documented on the second +sheet."</p> + +<p>What was it about this guy? +He was overly polite but that +could hardly be considered +strange. His answers were brief, +to the point, even curt. That was +just a personality trait, Harry +supposed. Couldn't condemn a +man for that.</p> + +<p>"How long did you live in +Chicago?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty-one years, sir."</p> + +<p>"Are you married?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>He had noted before that Mr. +Thompson had a distracting habit +of patting his hair. Now he +knew why. He was wearing a +toupee. Harry wondered if the +poor guy was sensitive about it. +If he <i>was</i> that conscious of it, it +might account for his strange +attitude.</p> + +<p>"Thank you for coming in, +Mr. Thompson. I'll submit your +papers to Colonel Waters. If he +has any further interest in you, +don't be surprised if you receive +a visit from a couple of Intelligence +agents. That's routine for +this job. I just tell you in advance +so you won't worry."</p> + +<p>"I understand," he said, rising +and checking his toupee once +more. "Many thanks to you, sir." +He shook Harry's hand and left +the room.</p> + +<p>Harry glanced at the papers +again. Mr. Thompson's background +was impressive indeed. +There didn't seem to be much +question as to his ability. But +what a queer duck he was!</p> + +<p>The second applicant was a +short, wiry man named Chase. +Like his predecessor, he was +brief and to the point with his +answers. He let his qualification +papers speak for themselves. He +was formal and polite.</p> + +<p>Midway through the interview +Harry noticed that he too was +wearing a toupee. If that wasn't +the damnedest coincidence! Fortunately +Mr. Chase didn't have +the annoying habit of patting +his head every thirty seconds. +Harry guessed he either had a +more expensive one or was just +endowed with more confidence +that it would not slip off.</p> + +<p>The interview over, Mr. Chase +offered his thanks and strolled +out.</p> + +<p>Harry had a few moments to +himself before Paula's third +client arrived. He thought +about the first two men. Funny +thing about toupees ... even the +most expensive ones could always +be detected. He couldn't quite +understand why the two men +wore them. They were often used +by playboys, actors, self-styled +over-age Romeos, people whose +niche in society depends upon +their looks. But not scientists or +technicians. In fact Harry couldn't +remember ever having known +one such person who shunned his +baldness in this manner. That +didn't mean they had no right. +But it did seem peculiar as hell.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>By the time the third interview +was over Harry Payne's +curiosity was ablaze. Applicant +number three, Mr. Boles, was +not only wearing a toupee but +had gone one step further. Just +north of his mouth there was a +mustache! A good-looking mustache, +well groomed and shaped, +but phoney as a wax banana.</p> + +<p>For a moment he thought +Paula Ralston might be perpetrating +a joke of elaborate +proportions. He rejected the +idea as fast as it came to him. +He didn't know the girl very well +yet, but he knew her well +enough to know she was strictly +business. <i>She wanted one of +these men to get that job.</i></p> + +<p>He flipped the intercom button +for Miss Conway. She might +be able to tell him ... indirectly.</p> + +<p>"You wanted me, Mr. Payne?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Miss Conway. The three +men who've already been in +here ... have you noticed anything +strange about them?"</p> + +<p>Her eyebrows merged and +spelled perplexity. She pursed +her lips and gave the matter the +gravest consideration. Then she +concluded, "Yes, something very +strange."</p> + +<p>Harry was hopeful. "What was +it?"</p> + +<p>"None of them did very much +talking. Strictly anti-social +types."</p> + +<p>Harry groaned, realizing he +should have known better. +"Thank you, Miss Conway. +That's all."</p> + +<p>"The fourth guy is waiting +outside."</p> + +<p>"Let him sit for a couple of +minutes, then send him in."</p> + +<p>He decided to put the whole +matter out of his mind and get +the interviews over as fast as +possible. There were other, more +serious duties to attend to. The +toupee episode was probably +nothing more than a crazy coincidence +anyway. Strictly an item +for Believe-It-Or-Not.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>By two o'clock that afternoon +the four remaining candidates +had come and gone. And Harry +Payne sat at his desk in the immediate +aftermath questioning +his sanity. All seven men wore +toupees! It was incredible but +true. And now the matter was +one of deep and abiding concern +to him. There was nothing +funny about it. There was a +touch of the macabre in it that +rendered his flesh cold and +weak.</p> + +<p>He lit a cigarette and tried to +pull his thoughts together. Seven +men applying for the same job; +seven men with one thing in +common; seven men as bald as +Doctor Cyclops. Harry had to +abandon the notion that sheer +coincidence brought these men +together. That was too fantastic. +They were brought together by +design.</p> + +<p>Their backgrounds varied in +that they had all worked and +come from different parts of the +country. But those facts were +only on paper. It was an odds-on +bet they all knew each other. +There was even something about +the order in which they arrived +at the office that indicated a pattern +or an over-all plan. Numbers +three, five and six had worn +false mustaches.</p> + +<p>If it was true the seven men +were well acquainted then Paula +Ralston could undoubtedly give +him some answers. Harry had +another dinner engagement with +her at five o'clock. But this date, +he told himself, would be different. +<i>He</i> was going to be all business +until he learned exactly +what she was involved in.</p> + +<p>He picked up the phone, got +an outside line and dialed. Frank +Barnes was a private detective. +A good one. Harry was sure he +could rely on him for a small +favor.</p> + +<p>A subdued, resonant voice answered +on the other end.</p> + +<p>"Frank, Harry Payne here."</p> + +<p>"Harry! Where you been hiding?"</p> + +<p>"I need a favor."</p> + +<p>"Only time you ever call me, +you ingrate."</p> + +<p>"There's a dame called Paula +Ralston. Runs a business called +Ralston Personnel Consultants. +How soon can you get anything +on her?"</p> + +<p>"How soon do you need it?"</p> + +<p>"Today, if possible. You can +call me at home. Any hour."</p> + +<p>After promising Frank to meet +him for lunch one day Harry +sank into an easy chair and tried +to shake the unnerving effect the +seven men had had on him.</p> + +<p>Maybe he shouldn't have called +Frank. This might be something +he should have informed the +army about. No. They'd want to +know what business he had seeing +the seven men in the first +place. He didn't have much of an +answer for that one.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Driving along Woodward +Street toward Fourth Avenue, +Harry was beset with one nagging +question. Why had Paula +Ralston never brought any of +her clients to see him before? He +was the dispenser of over a hundred +good jobs that offered high +salaries. The answer was just as +persistent as the question. <i>Lab +Technician was the only security +job he handled.</i> She was determined +that one of her men get +that job at any cost.</p> + +<p>It wasn't a very pleasant +thought. Harry didn't want to +believe it. He didn't want to believe +that Paula Ralston was going +to mean trouble for him. And +yet he knew that's exactly what +she meant.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>She was waiting for him at +Maria's. She kissed him as he +slipped into the booth beside her. +Through four drinks and a six-course +dinner he watched her +smile. That smile could melt +down the door on a bank vault. +He noticed how she laughed at +all of his wisecracks. When it +was her turn to talk she talked +about him. She offered a toast to +their closer friendship, with special +emphasis on the word +"closer."</p> + +<p>But she did not mention the +seven men. That was the smart +approach, Harry ventured. She'd +save that until she got home and +slipped into something more comfortable.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>He stood alone in Paula's living +room nursing a scotch on the +rocks. The night before he had +been too concerned about his +progress with this latter-day +Aphrodite to give a damn about +the place she lived in. He glanced +around the room. Every inch +reeked of success. The furniture +was sleek, modern, exquisitely +contoured ... like its owner. +There wasn't much question +about it, Paula Ralston made a +lot more dough than he did. But +how? That was the question.</p> + +<p>She came out of the bedroom +and mixed herself a drink. She +was a living dream in a black +lace negligee. Transparent. It figured. +A lot of things were beginning +to figure.</p> + +<p>"Shall I tell you a secret?" she +asked.</p> + +<p>"I didn't think you had any +left." He couldn't take his eyes +from the negligee.</p> + +<p>"I think Mr. Chase and Mr. +Boles are the best of the seven. +I think they come closest to what +you're looking for." She lifted +her glass and clinked it against +his.</p> + +<p>Harry smiled. He wasn't looking +at her anymore. It was more +of an education to look through +her. She was good. Damn good. +She could lull you into believing +the Grand Canyon was brimming +over with silver dollars, all yours +for the taking. It was next to +impossible to doubt the sincerity +in her face.</p> + +<p>"I liked all seven of them," he +said. "But since you know them +better than I do I'll take your +recommendation that Chase and +Boles are the best."</p> + +<p>She moved closer to him. He +could feel the warmth of her +body.</p> + +<p>"We're making some progress, +Harry. We've narrowed the field +down to two candidates."</p> + +<p>Harry kept her maneuvering. +"Paula, I'm still faced with the +problem of finding a way around +the regulations. I can't hire +either one of them until I solve +that."</p> + +<p>Nothing stopped this girl. +Nothing even slowed her down. +She moved still closer to him. +"There's a way around anything +if a man has the right incentive +to look for it."</p> + +<p>He knew what the right incentive +was. He didn't have to go +looking for that. He laid his +drink down, put his arms around +her and kissed her. They walked +to the sofa. Paula stayed close to +him, the ever thoughtful, loving +female companion. She rubbed +his back and neck and sprinkled +him with soft moist kisses. She +never mentioned her clients +again. And Harry promised to +hire one of them the following +day.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>He was anxious to get back to +his apartment to find out if +Frank Barnes had called. As he +drove back along Woodward +Street he couldn't put Paula out +of his mind. He already had her +character pegged. But what was +she up to? What was her goal? +She wasn't doing all this for a +lousy commission. The stakes +were bigger than that.</p> + +<p>In a way it was too bad she +was going to have to settle for +less than she bargained for. If +her seven clients hadn't been so +phoney she might have gotten +away with it. But why was it +necessary for them to be phoney? +Why should a girl as shrewd as +Paula send seven men in disguise +to see ...</p> + +<p>Disguise! Somehow that word +threw a different light on the +matter. The men had all been disguised +in places where hair +should grow. They were <i>not</i> bald. +There was something abnormal +about them. And Harry was +ninety percent certain what it +was. The answer was incredible. +There was still a ten-percent +margin for error. For Miss Paula +Ralston's sake he hoped he was +wrong.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Frank Barnes' message was +waiting for him at the switchboard +in the lobby. The word +"urgent" was written on it.</p> + +<p>He raced upstairs and picked +up the phone. Frank answered on +the first ring. He sounded like a +man with a gun at his back.</p> + +<p>"Harry, what the hell kind of a +mess have you gotten yourself +into?"</p> + +<p>"Why? Something go wrong?"</p> + +<p>"You bet your sweet life. An +hour after you called me to check +on that Ralston dame a guy came +into the office and told me to lay +off."</p> + +<p>Harry was silent. And scared. +His answer looked better all the +time.</p> + +<p>"What did the guy look like?"</p> + +<p>"He looked important, Harry. +And he meant business. He had +a big bulge in his pocket and he +made it very clear I'd be up to +my funny bone in hot lead if I +relayed any information about +this girl to you."</p> + +<p>"Frank, was the guy wearing +a toupee?"</p> + +<p>"A what?"</p> + +<p>"A toupee, a hair piece!"</p> + +<p>"How the hell should I know. +I wasn't interested in his coiffure. +He was wearing a black +overcoat, he kept his hand on +that bulge and he didn't care +much for smiling. Harry, you in +trouble with this dame?"</p> + +<p>"What did you find out about +her, Frank?"</p> + +<p>"Between the time you called +and the time the guy strolled into +the office I found out she's +only had this Personnel Consultant +racket for about three +months."</p> + +<p>"You didn't learn anything +else?"</p> + +<p>"After I got warned I decided +to wait'll I talked with you."</p> + +<p>Harry was silent again. His +mind was working.</p> + +<p>"Frank, what causes baldness?"</p> + +<p>"Baldness! Geez, Harry, +you're in a fat mess of trouble +and you're worrying about losing +your hair?"</p> + +<p>"It's important, Frank. I +must find out what causes total +loss of <i>all</i> hair."</p> + +<p>The detective grunted. "Well, +let's see, there are three or four +diseases I know of. Some people +claim it's hereditary. Sometimes +a deficiency in the genes ..."</p> + +<p>"Okay, Frank, that's enough."</p> + +<p>"What do you want me to do +about the girl?"</p> + +<p>"Just as the man told you. Lay +off. I'll call you tomorrow and +let you know what this thing is +all about."</p> + +<p>He hung up the phone and +paced in front of his sofa for +several minutes. It was inconceivable +that the seven men all +had the same disease, the same +gene deficiency or the same +hereditary shortcomings. So his +own answer must be much closer +to the truth. He'd have to wait +until morning to put it to a test. +If he was right he would call +Colonel Waters and dump the +whole bizarre set-up right into +the army's lap where it belonged.</p> + +<p>Again he found himself hoping +he was not right, and, more +important, that Paula Ralston +wasn't what he was beginning +to think she was.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Miss Conway was already in +when Harry arrived at the office. +He managed a half smile for her.</p> + +<p>"Miss Conway, two of the seven +men are coming back this +morning and ..."</p> + +<p>"And Mr. Boles is the one +who's getting the job."</p> + +<p>"Who called you this time?" +he asked with exasperation.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Waters."</p> + +<p>Harry's stomach muscles contracted. +"Colonel Waters?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. When you were +gone yesterday the colonel dropped +in to see you. He asked me +if you were working on the replacement +for George Fisher ... +I told him you were right on the +job. And I showed him the information +sheets you had on all +seven men."</p> + +<p>"You did what!!"</p> + +<p>"And Colonel Waters liked the +man named Boles best of all. So +I guess when Mr. Boles comes +in you can tell him the job is +his."</p> + +<p>"You nitwit!" he bellowed. +"You brainless, knuckleheaded ..." +He stomped into his office, +and slammed the door.</p> + +<p>It was difficult for him to +think clearly. He knew he had +to make a move. And fast.</p> + +<p>He stood by the window and +gazed at the Weapons Development +Center across the parade +ground. The low gray buildings +had a quiet peaceful aura about +them. If it weren't for the +guards marching in front of the +great wire fences anyone might +think the place was used for +manufacturing can-openers, automobile +parts, any one of a +thousand harmless products.</p> + +<p>But it wasn't. Weapons Development +represented a vital +link in the country's defense program. +He no longer figured they +were developing a weapon to +counteract Soviet aggression. +They were working on something +far more important. He was just +ninety percent sure of that.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mr. Boles was the first to arrive. +He sat in an easy chair +which Harry had moved close to +his desk in order to better observe +the man.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Boles, my secretary tells +me Colonel Waters was looking +at your qualifications yesterday +and was very impressed. I gather +from that that the job is +yours."</p> + +<p>"Thank you, sir."</p> + +<p>Harry shoved his chair closer +to him. The toupee was intact. +So was the mustache.</p> + +<p>"Now it'll take the government +about two weeks to complete +a security check-up."</p> + +<p>He could see plainly now that +the man was also wearing false +eyebrows and had no beard. That +did it.</p> + +<p>"I understand, sir," Boles replied.</p> + +<p>"So all I can tell you at the +moment is that you'll be hearing +from us as soon as possible." +Harry got up thinking the interview +was over.</p> + +<p>Mr. Boles remained seated.</p> + +<p>"Miss Ralston would like to see +you, Mr. Payne."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes," Harry chuckled, +"I'm going to see her this evening."</p> + +<p>"She wants to see you now."</p> + +<p>"Afraid I can't make it right +now. I have a pile of work to do. +Besides I'm expecting another +client of hers. Have to let him +know he didn't get the job."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Chase is waiting for us +downstairs in the car. You will +come with me, Mr. Payne." The +order was clear and firm.</p> + +<p>Harry didn't like it. "I don't +get it. What's so important that +Miss Ralston has to see me ..."</p> + +<p>He stopped at the sight of the +gun leveled at his chest.</p> + +<p>"When we pass your secretary's +desk, you will tell her you +are taking an early lunch. I will +return you in an hour if you cooperate."</p> + +<p>Harry Payne knew better than +to argue.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Mr. Chase was seated behind +the wheel of a blue sedan. Boles +and Harry climbed into the back +seat. They drove away from Fort +Dickson toward the city.</p> + +<p>The two men remained silent +during the trip. Harry had plenty +of time to think. Why this +sudden move of Paula's? He +must have done something to +motivate it. But what?</p> + +<p>The only person he had talked +to was Frank Barnes and he +hadn't divulged anything to +him. She couldn't be sore because +he had asked Frank to +check on her. Routine investigation +was part of his job. She +knew that. He failed to come up +with an answer. He was worried. +He knew who the seven +men were but he didn't know +where they came from. It could +have been any one of a million +different places. Heaven only +knew what kind of people they +were.</p> + +<p>The shades were drawn in +Paula's apartment. There was no +sign of her. But as soon as Harry +entered the room he forgot about +her anyway. His gaze rested upon +the small, roundish man sitting +in the contour chair, the +bald man with no eyebrows and +no beard.</p> + +<p>"Please be seated, Mr. Payne." +The man's tone was soft and +courteous.</p> + +<p>"Which one are you?" Harry +asked.</p> + +<p>The man was amused. "I am +Mr. Thompson."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yeah," said Harry, +"you're the one who kept patting +your skull. Couldn't you +find one that fit you?"</p> + +<p>Nobody was amused. Boles +and Chase took positions on +either side of Thompson. Their +faces were drawn and sober. +They resembled two bankrupt +morticians.</p> + +<p>"Where is the body beautiful?" +Harry asked. "Or is she +no longer the body beautiful?"</p> + +<p>"Take a look for yourself." It +was Paula's voice. The familiar +sultriness was missing.</p> + +<p>Harry swung around to see her +emerge from the bedroom. "Well, +well, well! If it isn't Miss Lonelyhearts. +Mind if I ask why I'm +here? I mean the gun and all?"</p> + +<p>He had to be flippant. It was +the only way he knew to conceal +the terror he felt in their presence.</p> + +<p>She sat beside him on the sofa. +"Harry, you've disappointed me. +You haven't been playing the +game fair and square."</p> + +<p>"If you're referring to the +private eye I put on you ..."</p> + +<p>"I'm <i>not</i>, Harry. You put him +on, we took him off. Those +things even themselves out."</p> + +<p>Harry shrugged. "Okay, I give +up. What did I do wrong?"</p> + +<p>"Show him, Mr. Thompson." +She lit a cigarette and folded her +legs under her.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thompson reached into his +pocket and produced a small object. +He tossed it into Harry's +lap. Harry examined it.</p> + +<p>"Do you recognize it?" Mr. +Thompson asked.</p> + +<p>"It's a microphone," Harry replied.</p> + +<p>"That's just what it is." Paula +savagely flung her cigarette to +the floor. Her own disguise, the +one concealing her true, ruthless +self, was gone. Her voice was +cold and harsh. "How much do +you know, Harry? How much?"</p> + +<p>Harry folded his hands, rested +his full weight on the arm of the +sofa and crossed his legs. "How +much is it worth to you?"</p> + +<p>Paula's hand struck with fury +across his face. His cheek went +numb. Blood ran from an uneven +gash left by the diamond in her +ring. He took out his handkerchief +and dabbed at the wound.</p> + +<p>"You're real high class, aren't +you, Paula? They don't make +traitors as high class as you anymore."</p> + +<p>She raised her hand and aimed +for the other cheek. Thompson +bolted out of his chair and +grabbed her.</p> + +<p>"I suggest you have a drink, +Miss Ralston. Let us handle the +rest."</p> + +<p>Paula was furious. "He's not +going to tell you anymore ..."</p> + +<p>"We'll handle the rest!!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Thompson didn't raise his +voice. But there was a firmness, +a deadly conviction in his inflection. +Paula went for a drink.</p> + +<p>Harry didn't like that. Paula +had a temper. He could deal with +her. But the others ... they displayed +very little emotion. He +had no idea how to handle them.</p> + +<p>Thompson sat down again +facing Harry.</p> + +<p>"The fact is," he began gracefully, +"we discovered this microphone +and four others like it here +in Miss Ralston's apartment. One +in each room. Now we are very +cautious people, Mr. Payne. We +are quite certain no one knows +our whereabouts. It is logical +then that the microphones have +not been here long. Miss Ralston's +only visitors are ourselves +and you. You have known her +two days. So you are the only +person who knows this apartment +well enough to have planted +these tell-tale devices in a +hurry."</p> + +<p>"Why should I want to plant +them?"</p> + +<p>"You took the trouble to have +Miss Ralston investigated. But +more than one means of investigation +produces better results. +The microphones were wired to +a small radio which we located +in the basement of this building. +We have assumed that everything +spoken into them was +transmitted over the radio and +recorded at your end. That +makes sense, doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>Harry was confused. "So far, +so good."</p> + +<p>"We want those recordings, +Mr. Payne."</p> + +<p>They seemed to be convinced +the microphones were his. Only +Harry knew it wasn't true. But +to admit it might mean he +wouldn't leave Paula's place +alive. He derived no comfort +from the knowledge that someone +else was interested in +Paula's activities. That wasn't +helping him with his problem of +the moment. He could see no +clear way out. He had to keep +stalling. And as long as they +were so sure of themselves it +might even be to his advantage +to maintain a certain arrogance.</p> + +<p>"I might as well tell you, +Thompson, I have no intention +of cooperating until I know a +few facts about you and your +friends. Like who you are, +where you're from, what you're +after ..."</p> + +<p>"It is not necessary, in order +to tell us where the recordings +are," smiled Mr. Thompson, +"that you know anything more +about us."</p> + +<p>"It isn't necessary," said +Harry, "but I want to know."</p> + +<p>Chase started to voice an objection +but Harry broke in.</p> + +<p>"And don't tell me you have +more persuasive ways of making +me talk. You can use force but +it'll take time. Your time is valuable +or you wouldn't have +hustled me over here as fast as +you did. So let's <i>not</i> waste your +time. You tell me, then I'll tell +you."</p> + +<p>Thompson glanced at his two +compatriots. Their faces registered +dissatisfaction. Their silence +said that Harry was right. +Time was valuable. They would +follow the path of least resistance.</p> + +<p>"Our point of origin," Mr. +Thompson began, "is Correylla, +roughly seven-eighths the size of +Earth, in the Syrybic Galaxy. It +is approximately ... in your figures +... seventy-five trillion +miles distant."</p> + +<p>"Must be quite a trip." Harry +tried to be placid.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thompson was momentarily +amused. "Travel through +Time and Space is something we +take for granted. The farthest +corners of the Universe are ours +for the reaching. That is the +foremost reason for our visit to +your Earth. You might call us +Galactic Observers. You see, we +already control the twelve inhabited +planets in our own Galaxy. +And at this time we have no desire +to take on any more responsibility +than that. But neither +do we want interference from +another Galaxy ... such as this +one!"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Harry was surprised. "You're +giving this world a lot of credit. +We've barely moved off the +Earth. What makes you think we +could cause your people any trouble?"</p> + +<p>"By merely projecting yourselves +into space you have eliminated +the major obstacle to +space travel. Remember it took +thousands of years for someone +on your Earth to discover electricity. +But observe the wonders +you have accomplished with it +in the relatively few years <i>since</i> +it was discovered. The same +principle applies to your conquest +of space. We are not here +to do you harm, Mr. Payne. It +is merely our intention to warn +you, when the time comes, of the +dangers you face should you decide +to venture too far."</p> + +<p>"For people who intend no +harm I'd say you and your +friends are putting on quite an +unconvincing show."</p> + +<p>"I assure you, Mr. Payne, our +visit to Earth was intended purely +for observational purposes!"</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, <i>was</i>?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Thompson's face was grim. +The easy chair that had accommodated +his small, roundish +frame so perfectly now appeared +to be uncomfortable for him. A +redness crept into his cheeks and +spread over his smooth, tight +scalp.</p> + +<p>"The fact is that your government +has known about us for +six months. Our exact whereabouts +has been a well guarded +secret ... but they <i>were informed</i> +of our presence here on +Earth."</p> + +<p>"Informed! But who could +tell them ..."</p> + +<p>Chase broke in impatiently. +"We are wasting time! We must +get those recordings!"</p> + +<p>The interruption was dismissed +with a wave of Thompson's +hand.</p> + +<p>"Your government was informed +by George Fisher."</p> + +<p>"George Fisher!" Harry gulped.</p> + +<p>"You see, Mr. Fisher ... that +wasn't really his name, you understand +... was one of us ... a +member of our observation team. +After we arrived here ... well, +you might say he defected, gave +your government the benefit of +his somewhat limited knowledge."</p> + +<p>Harry whistled. "And because +of him your mission is no longer +observational."</p> + +<p>"That remains to be seen."</p> + +<p>Harry leaned forward on the +sofa. "You have any ideas, Mr. +Thompson, about why he defected? +I'm curious to know why a +man is unhappy enough with his +own lot to run away and put +himself in the hands of a civilization +that is in every way alien +to him."</p> + +<p>Thompson's answer was brief +and deliberately ambiguous. +"Mr. Fisher was a traitor. What +more can be said of him?"</p> + +<p>"So he didn't commit suicide," +Harry muttered.</p> + +<p>"That's right, Mr. Payne."</p> + +<p>"I take it you're not sure of +how much Fisher told the government +before you got to him."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Fisher's limitations were +familiar to us. It is the potential +of your own scientists now that +they have his information that +we are most concerned with."</p> + +<p>Keep stalling, Harry reminded +himself ... keep speculating, +guessing, theorizing, anything +for time.</p> + +<p>"So you know the project that +Weapons Development is working +on but you don't know how +much progress has been made. +And you want to place one of +your own people in there to find +out."</p> + +<p>"Thanks to you, we have succeeded +in doing just that." +Thompson smiled with satisfaction, +having kept his part of a +bargain. "Now about those recordings...."</p> + +<p>"I'm not through asking questions."</p> + +<p>"But I'm through answering +them, Mr. Payne. Tell us where +the recordings are."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Harry studied the clean, +smooth surface of Thompson's +face. There was a gentleness in +his large, round eyes. There was +also an unfriendliness. Harry +had to keep stalling. He knew +any answer he gave them would +shorten his life expectancy by +about thirty-five years.</p> + +<p>"You've gotten me into a mess +of trouble, Mr. Thompson. I +think you owe me a little more. +My memory might prove clearer +if I knew what was going on at +Weapons Development."</p> + +<p>Thompson glanced at his two +companions. They showed no +sign of dissent.</p> + +<p>"Very well, Mr. Payne. For +some years now our people have +been working on a method of +reversing the polarity of the +atom. We have tried to create an +electro-magnetic field which +would repel rather than attract. +Once we are able to accomplish +this we can develop an instrument +capable of disturbing the +molecular structure of any object +in the universe."</p> + +<p>"In other words ..." Harry +frowned at him, "a weapon capable +of disintegration?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely!"</p> + +<p>Harry sat there, stunned. A +few moments seemed hardly +enough to digest the knowledge +that Weapons Development was +working on the most incredibly +advanced weapon of all time. +And Mr. Thompson and company +were out to sabotage it. +Their people could not afford to +allow another world to beat +them to the punch. Who controlled +this weapon controlled the +universe. Stalling the aliens was +more important than ever now. +He couldn't heighten the danger +to his own life. It wasn't worth +a lead nickel anyway. If it had +been, Thompson wouldn't have +consented to tell him this much.</p> + +<p>Someone else had wired +Paula's apartment. It was reasonable +to assume it was someone +on his side.</p> + +<p>"The recordings, please!!" +Boles was becoming very impatient.</p> + +<p>Harry looked up and found a +gun at his head. "The recordings +are at my office," he lied.</p> + +<p>Thompson walked to the telephone +table and brought the instrument +to him. "You will call +your secretary," he said, "and +tell her you have been detained at +lunch. You are sending Mr. +Chase to pick up the recordings."</p> + +<p>Harry glanced around the +room. Paula was sulking at the +bar near the door. Drowning +her conscience, he thought. They +must have paid her a fortune to +sell out her own people. Boles +and Chase both had their guns +poised. Thompson picked up the +receiver and extended it to him.</p> + +<p>There was no way out, no stalling +them any longer. To make a +break for it would be suicidal. In +the state of confusion his mind +was in, he could think of only one +thing to do. When he reached +Miss Conway, he would have to +warn her somehow—a few desperate +words and pray that she +would be alert enough to realize +he was in trouble and get the information +to the authorities.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>He took the phone and dialed. +He gave the Fort Dickson operator +his office extension. He waited. +The phone rang. It rang +again. Then three more times. +Damn that girl! Her coffee +breaks were extended vacations!</p> + +<p>Finally the phone was picked +up. But the voice that answered +was male.</p> + +<p>"Who is this?" Harry demanded.</p> + +<p>The voice replied, "Colonel +Waters."</p> + +<p>"This is Harry. I'm at Paula +Ralston's apartment ... emergency...!"</p> + +<p>The three men were on top of +him. Chase smashed the butt of +his gun across Harry's knuckles. +The receiver fell to the floor. +Harry let out a pained groan as +Boles' gun butt struck him on +the temple. Thompson replaced +the receiver. Harry was on the +floor. He put his hands to his +head for protection as Chase savagely +kicked at him. His vision +blurred but he managed to see +that Paula was still at the bar +sipping a drink, sadistically enjoying +the whole show.</p> + +<p>"He's no longer any use to +us," Thompson declared. "You +may do your job!"</p> + +<p>Harry shook his head, fighting +to stay conscious. His vision +cleared long enough to see Chase +and Boles standing over him, +their guns pointed at either side +of his head.</p> + +<p>There was a volley of deafening +shots. There was smoke, +voices, people running in every +direction. More gunfire. Glass +shattering. Furniture knocked +over.</p> + +<p>But Harry felt no pain.</p> + +<p>When he looked again Chase +and Boles were no longer to be +seen. He caught a glimpse of +Thompson running for another +position of cover. A final gunshot +brought him to the floor.</p> + +<p>Harry struggled to a sitting +position. Then he saw Chase and +Boles dead on the floor beyond +the sofa. Half a dozen soldiers +were in the process of subduing +a swearing, clawing Paula Ralston.</p> + +<p>And in the doorway he saw +Miss Conway.</p> + +<p>She looked incongruous as +hell with a smouldering revolver +in her hand. She crossed the +room and knelt beside him. She +pulled him around to let his head +rest on the sofa.</p> + +<p>"Harry! Harry," she whispered, +brushing his hair back, "are +you hurt badly? What did they +do to you?"</p> + +<p>He tried to get up.</p> + +<p>"You stay right where you are, +honey." Her voice was soothing +and gentle. There was a soft, +compassionate light in her eyes. +No longer that dumb stare. She +leaned over and kissed him. +"There. You're going to be all +right."</p> + +<p>"What the hell are you doing +here?" Harry bellowed.</p> + +<p>"Now you just sit back and +relax. I'm just doing my job."</p> + +<p>"Your jo ..." A low steady +wail rolled off his lips. "Oh, no! +Say it isn't so. Tell me I'm really +dead. I know I deserve to be."</p> + +<p>"I may be the world's lousiest +secretary, but I'm considered not +bad in the counter-intelligence +department."</p> + +<p>Harry repeated the wail.</p> + +<p>"We were afraid from the +time George Fisher turned himself +over to the government," she +continued, "that his days were +numbered. But the longer he remained +alive the more apprehensive +his people would become. We +figured one day they'd make a +wrong move. And that would be +their big mistake. Well, their +move was to kill George Fisher +and try to get one of their own +agents into Weapons Development. +That meant exposing +themselves. It also meant you +had to be watched ... among +others. That's where I came in."</p> + +<p>"And playing it about as +dumb as I've ever seen."</p> + +<p>She laughed. "Sounds like I +played the part a little too convincingly."</p> + +<p>She stood up and helped him +to his feet. "You're coming with +me."</p> + +<p>"Where to? Hey, what are you +doing?"</p> + +<p>"There's something about this +place that I don't like. I'm no sultry +brunette, but I'm not a dumb +blonde either." She kissed him, +then took a last look at Paula's +place and led him out the door.</p> + +<p class="rgt"><b>THE END</b></p> + +<div class="trn"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b> +This etext was produced from <i>Amazing Stories</i> November 1959. +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.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Observers, by G. L. 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