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diff --git a/32718.txt b/32718.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f13075 --- /dev/null +++ b/32718.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1004 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Trap, by Betsy Curtis + +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 Trap + +Author: Betsy Curtis + +Release Date: June 6, 2010 [EBook #32718] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAP *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction August 1953. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + the TRAP + + + By BETSY CURTIS + + + _She had her mind made up--the one way they'd make her young + again was over her dead body!_ + + * * * * * + + + + +Old Miss Barbara Noble twitched aside the edge of the white scrim +curtain to get a better look at the young man coming down the street. +He might be the one. + +The young man bent a little under the weight of the battered black +suitcase as he crossed Maple and started up Prospect on Miss Noble's +side. She could see him set the case down on the wide porch of the +Raney house and wipe his forehead with a handkerchief. Then she lost +sight of him as he advanced to the door. He could be a visitor to the +Raney's, but they were out of town on vacation. He could be a +salesman. + +Miss Barbara shifted her rocker to the other side of the window where +she could watch without having to disturb the curtain. This +second-floor sitting room made an excellent lookout. She quickly +scanned the street in the other direction, but there was no sign of +movement in the hot sunlight. She settled down to watch the black +suitcase sitting uncommunicatively at the edge of the porch. + +It must have been all of two minutes before the young man appeared +from under the over-hanging roof and picked up the case. A persistent +fellow. He went down to the sidewalk and approached her own house, +came up on her own front doorstep, tried to set the case down on the +narrow stoop, couldn't, straightened up and rang the bell. A raucous +buzz filled the sitting room. + + * * * * * + +Barbara Noble leaned toward the window, pulled back the curtain a +scant inch, and studied his back as he looked at the windows on the +other side of the front door. Limp yellow hair and a big perspiration +stain in the middle of a dark sport shirt were her chief impressions. +He could be a bona fide salesman working hard at it. She wouldn't let +him in, of course; but she felt a little sorry for him lugging that +big case around in this weather. Then he turned and looked straight at +the window behind which she was hiding, and she let the curtain go +suddenly. Had he seen it move? The buzzer sounded again, imperiously. + +Miss Barbara got up stiffly, moved to the big vizer screen in the +nearest corner, and switched it on. The man might have something +interesting and she couldn't get out to shop the way she used to. She +smoothed her lilac housedress and left the room to descend the stairs +to the front door. + +In the tiny front hall she hesitated, then opened the door inward +about eight inches. Deftly the man stuck the broad brown toe of his +shoe into the opening and looked down at her. She grinned as she saw +his expression of shock. + +She was old, really old. Her sparse white hair was pulled so tightly +into a knob on top of her head that the plentiful wrinkles on her +forehead and around her eyes seemed to run vertically, giving her an +oriental look. The hand she rested on the door jamb was a waxy-white +claw, a blue vein standing up prominently under the skin tight-drawn +over gnarly finger joints. He had probably never seen a woman much +past middle age. + +"Well?" Her croak was high and rough. + + * * * * * + +The young man recovered himself and began his spiel. "Madame, I +represent one of the best-known and most reputable firms in the +country. Our products have received three international medals for +purity and effective performance. They...." + +"What are you selling, young man?" + +"I have the privilege of being a field representative for Taffeta +Beauty Aids. Please accept this generous ten-ounce bottle of our +Diamond Dew Refreshest Lotion...." He reached into his side pocket and +brought it out, offered it with the most appreciative smile, his 'you +hardly need this' smile. + +Her hand did not reach out. "I don't want any. Goodbye!" The door +tightened against his foot. + +"But madame," his foot did not budge and his smile became both +engaging and pleading, "all I ask is a chance to show you our line. +Our products sell themselves. Besides, I'm paid on a demonstration +basis--so much for every potential customer who receives our free +sample and so much for every home demonstration. You wouldn't want me +to lose two-fifty when it would take only six and a third minutes of +your time exactly to look over one of the most amazing displays +ever...." + +"Well, I don't know...." + +"I know you'll enjoy watching our Tissue Cleanser in action and seeing +the new simplicity of our Home Re--...." (oops, he'd almost said it) +"... Hair Relustrification Kit. I promise you that your few minutes +won't be wasted." + +"Yours would be, young man. I don't buy that stuff." + +"You may be one of the lucky few women who don't need our products, +but I don't think you can say that before you've seen them." + +"I never did see such persistence, honest to goodness!" Her face +assumed a crabbed smile. "Come along then." + + * * * * * + +She moved back from the door into the darkness of the house; and the +salesman shifted his case back to his left hand, pushed the front door +wide and took a quick long step inside. He was just in time to hear +the slight click of the closing of a second door in front of him. He +reached for the knob, turned it; but the door was locked. The outside +door still stood open, caught by the end of the sample case. + +The July daylight from outside showed him that he was in a tiny +entrance hall not more than forty inches each way. He pulled the case +in and by squeezing against the inner door allowed the front door to +close. Anyhow, he was inside the house. He rapped sharply on the inner +door. + +The latch on the front door snapped to and instantly the hall was +flooded with light from a tremendous bulb in the ceiling, which, +surprisingly, was twenty feet above him. + +A harsh voice, tinny with tremendous amplification but unmistakably +that of the old woman, filled the hall, "ALL RIGHT, YOUNG MAN. I HAVE +THE VIZER TURNED ON YOU. LET'S SEE THE DEMONSTRATION. I BELIEVE YOU +SAID SIX MINUTES. GET ON WITH IT." + +Screening his eyes with his fingers, the salesman scanned the walls +and ceiling for the vizer lens, found it beside the five-hundred watt +bulb pouring blindingly down on him, on the other side of a speaker +grille. + +"C-certainly, madame." What a layout. As he automatically laid his +case on the floor and opened back the top against the front door, his +eyes searched the walls for indications of openings which might mean +unexpected defenses such as anesthetic tanks. The only breaks in the +two smooth white plaster surfaces which he could see as he squatted +before the case were a horizontal row of glass bosses on each side at +about the height of his knees. + +"Now, since my face," he closed his eyes and flashed a toothy smile, +like a video actor, up at the vizer lens, "is subjected to the daily +care of Taffeta Products," he turned his face down to the case and +gritted his teeth, "I must smear facial muscle softener into the left +half to show the action and appearance of muscles which have lost +their tonus." He whipped the cover off a small ivorine jar and rubbed +his cheek vigorously with a brownish salve. "You will note that this +softener also contains a percentage of grime which lodges in the +pores." + +He heard a gasp from the speaker grille when he displayed a face whose +left cheek and brow were sagged, wrinkled and hideously brown +speckled. From somewhere behind the gasp, he heard a continuous tinkle +of tiny bells. + +His hands moved among the bottles and jars, raised a round silver box +which he held up. "The delicately perfumed applicator pads for all +applications of Taffeta Preparations are pre-saturated with Firmol +Tone Charger. I dip the pad into this solution of Enhancing Hyssop," +he did so, "and work it gently into the pores. The results are +instantaneous!" He turned up his original video star appearance. + + * * * * * + +While bending his body forward to reach the articles strapped to the +top of the case, he noticed that the tone of the distant bells was +raised. Screwing a circular hairbrush to the thread of a collapsible +tube, he sank back on his haunches. The bell tones were lower. He +placed a hand on one of the glass bosses nearest the inner door, +apparently to steady himself. An even lower tone was added to the bell +notes. Obviously electric eyes with a set of bell signals in the old +woman's present location. He smiled down at the floor--to himself. + +[Illustration] + +"Now I want you to notice closely this object which I will show you." +He held up the brush with the tube screwed on its back and turned it +about. "Do you know what this is?" + +There was no answer from the speaker but its own hum and the tinkle of +the bells. "What does it look like?" He spoke rapidly, pleasantly. +There was still no answer. + +He rose quickly and tried the knob of the inner door again. He could +hear the bell notes lower in pitch as he pressed against the door. + +"LET ME SEE THE THING AGAIN, YOUNG MAN. HONEST TO GOODNESS, WHAT +DIFFERENCE DOES IT MAKE WHETHER OR NOT I KNOW WHAT IT IS? IT LOOKS +LIKE A HAIRBRUSH WITH SOME DO-JIGGER ON THE TOP." + +He jumped back to the center of the hall. "This brush is the essential +feature of our sensational Hair Relustrifier Kit. The tube screwed to +the top feeds the specially developed Brilliancette directly through +each hollow bristle to reach every part of the hair." He ran or rather +scrubbed the brush through the right side of his long fair pompadour +with small rotary motions. When he removed the brush, that side of his +head was covered with crisp yellow ringlets which shone under the +light like sculptured gold. + +"THAT'S SOME SORT OF A TRICK! DO IT ON THE OTHER...." Her voice was +interrupted by a syncopated clicking. A telephone signal. "JUST A +MOMENT, YOUNG MAN." The hum of the speaker cut off and the sudden +silence seemed full of the echoes of the bells. + + * * * * * + +Instantly the man dropped the gadget into the case and grabbed a +handful of cleansing tissues from a box in it. He snapped down the top +of the case and whipped the straps through the buckles. Then he shoved +the case against one of the side walls and sat on it to flip off his +shoes and socks. Shoving his back tightly against the wall, he bent +his knees up and pushed his bare feet flat against the other. After +placing the wad of tissues in his lap, he put his hands against the +wall below his buttocks and, like an experienced mountain climber, +inched his way rapidly up the 'chimney' of the hall. When his head +touched the ceiling, he braced himself firmly with his left hand and +reached with his right for the tissues in his lap. Protecting his hand +with several of the white papers, he felt above him for the base of +the light bulb, unscrewed it, and dropped it gently onto the rest of +the tissues still in his lap. The sudden blackness was smothering. + +Heat seeped through the tissues more rapidly than he had expected; and +the effort to keep his knees from contracting and spilling him in the +utter darkness to the floor fifteen feet below was agony. + +When he finally reached the floor, he placed the bulb on it beside the +sample case. Then he opened the front door and closed it again, +leaving the door caught open a fraction of an inch by the latch +against the frame. Taking an anesthetic cartridge out of his pants +pocket, he broke the seal, taking care not to trigger it, and returned +to his crevice-climbing posture. He lifted himself again above the row +of electric eyes and waited, cartridge in hand, leg muscles cramping +painfully. + + * * * * * + +After Miss Noble had turned off the speakphone, she pulled herself +away from the fascinating view of golden curls and scuttled over to a +stiff ladder-back chair beside the telephone stand. She lifted the +antique cradle phone (none of these modern invasions of privacy like +the vizerphone) and spoke warily into the mouthpiece. + +"Who is it? What do you want?" + +"Barbara?" A man's voice was urgent. + +"This is Miss Noble speaking," she replied haughtily. + +The voice was savage. "Well, this is _Doctor_ Harris, then. Have you +looked at the mail today? I got my directors' meeting notice this +morning." + +"Yes, I got one. The fifth of August," she said impatiently. + +"And this seems to be our year. There's been a girl here already this +morning with some story about my having advertised for a housekeeper. +She told it to the doorphone and wouldn't leave when I said I didn't +want anybody--but it only took one drop of skunk oil in the hallway to +send her packing." The horrid chuckle that came from the receiver was +so raucous that Miss Noble held it away from her ear. + +"Blonde or brunette?" she asked noncommittally. + +"Blonde--and really young, not a damn rejuvenee!" + +"Rod Harris! You actually went and peeked at her, you old goat!" + +"Only through the one-way." + +"Well, since the company knows that a pretty girl is still good bait +for an old ninny, you're as good as a goner. They'll have _you_ +rejuvenated before long." + +"They won't get a chance to! And I'm going to get old enough so I +can't even lift a hand to thumb my nose at the company. Then I'm going +to go and die and the Juvine Perpetual Youth Corporation will scream +in agony as it disbands and makes public property of its hallowed +formulas as per the original articles of incorporation ... and _you_ +will probably get a new set of false teeth and take the treatment +again since you could get it real cheap when the monopoly's finished +and not have to disturb your millions salted away in the sugar bowl." + +This mixture of facetiousness and downright sarcasm was only surpassed +by Miss Noble, who snapped back, "Don't you sneer at me, Doctor Roland +Harris, when you know perfectly well that the _only_ reason I have to +go on living this long is to make sure that you are really dead first. +You didn't invent rejuvenation all by yourself without the aid of +Barbara Noble, Ph.D., and the company has the sole right to the +process until we're _both_ dead. And, if you start peeking at plump +blonde wenches at this point, I suppose I'll have to live till Los +Alamos freezes over!" + +"All right, all right. But she wasn't plump. She wasn't any bigger +than you are. Besides, you know I'd rather have dinner with you. My +man Marko could give us roast beef with all the fixings and afterward +I want you to hear my latest discovery. It's the best damn +extempore-singer you've ever heard, Jeery Wade--fellow in his first +late fifties, no fluff-brain of a juvenee--a blood and thunder +baritone that'll lift that knob of hair clean off your scalp. Let's +say you get here about six-thirty and I'll phone him we'll be over at +his place for a session of hollering about eight." + + * * * * * + +Miss Noble's scorn needed no vizer to carry it over the wire in full +force. "I'm not going to budge out of this house until after the +director's meeting and then only if the shops stop all delivery +service. This time I'm not taking any chances. Life is too much of a +bore to have to put up with it for another eighty years even for your +marvelous singer who would probably go and get rejuvenated just as I +got to enjoy him. And _nothing_ could induce me to listen to an +evening of your stories for the nine hundredth time. If there's one +thing I'm thankful for in this scatter-brained age, it's the marriage +dissolution law that's got me free from your anecdotes after three +separate terms of fifty years each." + +"Now, Barbara, was it that bad?" Roland Harris sounded distressed. + +"Do you really think I could be honestly grateful to the Corporation +for a hundred and fifty years of listening to that disgraceful old +thing about the Martian, the Venusian, and the robot?" + +"Well, if you feel that way about it, I'll keep my discoveries to +myself. I hope your fancy hallway keeps you safe till you rot." + +"It's doing all right," replied the old woman smugly. "I have a young +pup down there right now cooling his number thirteens and waiting to +pretend to interest me in some new face paint and hair gik. My +electric eye set and vizer are less repulsive than your skunk oil and +_twice_ as effective." + +"They're not going to stop me from having a good time while I last, +anyhow. I think they're through with me for today; and I'm going to +hear Jeery Wade, anyhow. He'll make up a hooting good song about all +this when I tell him." + +"Take care of yourself, Rod ... goodbye," said Miss Noble, almost +concernedly. + +She dropped the phone into its cradle, rose, and went back to the +vizer screen, switching on the speaker as she sat down. Only then did +she notice that the screen was entirely dark except for a vague sliver +of gray. + +"Are you still there, young man?" she asked the microphone. + +There was silence from the speaker. The hammer on each bar of the long +metal xylophone of the electric eye signal hung motionless. + +"He's gone ... and left the front door unlatched too. And I thought he +was persistent." She was disappointed. "He owes me four more minutes +of fun." + +She got up slowly and started for the door. "That curly hair stuff is +new since my last sixties, too. I wonder if it would work on white +hair ... I'd better go down and close the door. Can't have just +anybody coming into one's house." + + * * * * * + +She descended the stairs, opened the door from the front room, then +took one step forward into the hall. Before she could interpret the +soft bump of the salesman's bare feet as they struck the floor, she +was encircled by his strong arm; and the hiss of the anesthetic gun +was loud in the small area of the hall. Limply she sagged against his +arm. + +The hissing of the gun stopped. The young man slipped it into his +pocket and, turning, thrust the inner door wide open with his now free +hand. Entering the tidy front room, he kicked the door shut behind him +and gulped in the good air before he headed for the back of the house, +cradling the small body easily in his arms. Failing to find there what +he was looking for, he went up the narrow white-railed stairway to the +second floor. Across the landing, the gleam of porcelain showed +through a half-open door. + +He laid his burden carefully on the vari-colored braided rug by the +tub and began to draw a warm bath, testing the temperature frequently +with his hand. When water reached the overflow outlet, he turned off +the tap and sprinted downstairs for his sample case. The hall was +still chokingly full of gas; and after grabbing out the case, he +slammed the door again. He brought the case up to the bathroom, where +he opened it on the floor beside the form of the old woman. He lifted +out the tray, revealing masses of silvery tubing and a number of +flasks of iridescent solutions nestling among loops of rubber +insulated wiring. One flask he emptied into the bath, making the water +seethe and turn a cloudy green. + +Then, dashing down the stairs again, he began looking for the +telephone. His search became more and more hurried, as he opened +cupboards and drawers in front room and kitchen with no success. +Returning upstairs, he almost missed the instrument in the +sitting-room because he was expecting the familiar sight of a round +vizer screen. He stood over the phone and dialed. + +"Hey, Alice!" + +"What luck, Riggy?" + +"I'm in. The old lady's out cold on the bathroom floor. Primer +solution's in the bath at five above tepid. I'm shoving her in +now--with all her clothes on, of course--and I've wasted a lot of time +already looking for this hypoblastic phone, so beat it on over here +with Margy and get to work." + +"Are you ordering me around, Rigel O'Maffey?" + +"You know I never did this job on a woman. And don't forget, honey, +we'll get enough out of this to get a new copter together. C'mon now." +He put the phone back in, the cradle before she could answer. + + * * * * * + +Back in the bathroom, he drew a long thermometer from the case, took a +careful reading on the water, ran in a little more hot from the faucet +and left it running the slightest dribble. + +Carefully lifting the small body of Barbara Noble, Ph.D., he slid it +gently into the water feet first over the end, smoothing down with one +hand the percale housedress which ballooned as she went into the +water. Finally he knelt beside the tub, holding her head out of the +water in the crook of his elbow. + +A banging on the inner door downstairs some fifteen minutes later +reminded him of the force with which he had slammed it in his hurry to +reach the uncontaminated air of the front room. He looked longingly +across the bathroom at the racks of towels on the other side, but +finally, as the banging stopped and a feminine voice began yelling, +"Hey, Riggy! Let us in!" he grabbed up the bright rug and wadded it +under the scrawny neck. + +The girls scolded him all the way up the stairs for not leaving the +door unlocked, while he tried to explain, at the same time, that he +had to hold up the woman's head. + +"Screepers, Riggy, what do you think the perfectly good pair of +water-wings in your case is for?" + +Humbled, he departed as the girls took over the beginning of the +complicated, fortnight-long process of the rejuvenation of Barbara +Noble. + + * * * * * + +The receptionist behind the ebony desk, whose gold plate proclaimed it +as the headquarters of the Juvine Perpetual Youth Corporation, crammed +shut the drawer before her. A metallic clink from within was the fall +of a mirror with which she had been assisting the application of +scarlet which now fluoresced gently on her full lips. + +Tossing her head (which showed the crop of glistening black curls to +the fullest advantage) in a preoccupied manner, she addressed the man +who stood before her desk. "How can the Juvine Perpetual Youth +Corporation serve you?" Her hastily assumed look of efficient +importance was replaced by melting eagerness as she took in the +chiselled perfection of features and the broad shoulders of the young +man in knife-creased bronze spunlon. + +"I'm Harris. For the directors' meeting." His voice was curt. + +"_You're_ Doctor Harris? The Director? Oh, do come in." She rose from +the desk and went around the end of it to open the high wrought-gold +gate and hold it wide for him. "You're a little early. I'll take you +down to the Board Room." Eager willingness to help was apparent in her +every gesture. + +"Thanks, I know the way," he informed her, brushing past. + +She followed him, however, across the patio-like reception room, with +its exotically gardened borders and splashing fountain, down the long +corridor past glowing murals of men and women swimming, dancing and +playing tennis, past tapestry shielded doorways to the great bright +arch at the end. Before he went through, she caught his sleeve. + +"I should be pleased to steno for you today, if you need me." + +He turned and looked at her as if he had not known she was behind him. +"Thanks, but I sha'n't need one. It'll be a short meeting." He smiled +down and patted her cheek. "But if I'm not entirely satisfied with the +proceedings, maybe I can dictate a little afterward." + +She laughed as if that were a special joke between them and retreated +rapidly down the corridor before he had time to turn and miss the +splendor of her graceful carriage. + +His eyebrows were still raised and the corners of his mouth curved in +appreciation when he passed through the arch and into the vast room +under the clear bubble of a tremendous skydome. + + * * * * * + +A girl was sitting there, her back to him, looking out over the +simmering city streets to the cool rise of mountains beyond. He +recognized at once the slight figure, the sheen of the long curling +auburn bob, the poise of her head and slim hand resting on the arm of +the chair. + +"Babs!" + +She turned half around. "Hello, Rod." + +He grinned and sank down in the next chair. "Here we are again." + +"Knocked out by your own skunk oil?" she asked pointedly. + +"No. Company copter man got me leaving Jeery Wade's. What happened to +you? I thought you were walled up neatly for the declining years." + +"The cosmetic man ambushed me in the hall. But I've got another fifty +years to figure out something better ... if I still need it." + +"What do you mean _if_ you still need it? Are you changing your mind +about rejuvenation?" + +She smiled. "Well, you know it's always fun at first. But I'm having +my lawyer come to this meeting. I've got an idea we can change the +articles of agreement so that the process can finally become public +property at the end of another fifty years instead of only after our +deaths. Then if we want to go on and die, nobody" (she waved her hand +around the great room at the little group of athletic men and +glamorous, expensively gowned women moving in through the arch) +"nobody will have any financial interest in rejuvenating us. Then, +too, our own fat incomes will lapse; and since that's the reason we +set up the articles the way they are--so we'd never be in danger of +starving, that is--we'd have the more interesting choice of whether to +die off or get young again and go back to work. Would you sign a +fifty-year termination, Rod?" + +"Would you marry me for the fifty years, Babs?" His voice was gentle, +pleading. + +"Honest to goodness, now, aren't you really pretty tired of me?" she +asked earnestly, turning to face him. + +"No, I can't say I am. You're pretty special, doctor, and you're +special pretty." It was a ritual. + +"You know you're the only man. I'll marry you. Will you sign?" + +"Of course I'll sign. I would have anyhow when I knew you wanted me +to. And Babs--maybe we could get some sort of jobs now--sort of to get +in practice. I'll bet we could rent a lab somewhere and do commercial +analyses for a while until we got hit by another idea for research." + +"Rod, that's the best idea you've had in the last hundred and fifty +years. But we could have a honeymoon first, couldn't we?" + +"That's your best suggestion in the last seventy years. And maybe we +could get Jeery Wade and his wife to rejuvenate and go with us. After +the first couple of weeks, that is." + + * * * * * + +They left the meeting arm in arm, somewhat ahead of the rather +disgruntled group of directors, who stayed behind to lament the end of +a good thing. In the garden room, Barbara stopped to choose an orchid. + +Rod Harris wandered on to the receptionist's desk, where the girl of +the black curls waited, smiling. + +He looked back at Barbara, then smiled down at the girl. "Just like I +said ... a short meeting. No need for any dictating. Lucky you." + +"Oh, I don't know," she countered coyly. + +"Say, I heard a story the other day you might like. Do you like +stories?" + +"What kind of story?" + +"You'd have to be the judge of that." + +Suddenly Barbara was with them, pinning on a bronze and green blossom. +"C'mon along, dear. We've got a good many things to do before we +leave." + +He opened the golden wicket for her and followed her out. Turning back +toward the desk, he called to the girl, "I may be back in a few weeks +to see about a job. Remind me then to tell you the one about the +Martian, the Venusian and the robot." + + --BETSY CURTIS + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Trap, by Betsy Curtis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE TRAP *** + +***** This file should be named 32718.txt or 32718.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/7/1/32718/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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