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diff --git a/78749-0.txt b/78749-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..64c3175 --- /dev/null +++ b/78749-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,526 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78749 *** + + + + + Coffin for Two + + by Winston K. Marks + + + + + He returned to Earth after three years, with stars in his eyes and + Gwen in his heart. But Gwen had no heart--and a star on her brow! + + + + +When I saw the lights of Albany Field below me I just about cried. +It takes guts to live anywhere by yourself for three years, but that +itchy, stinking garden of hell out on Venus does things to you that +aren’t worth money. Not even the kind of money I’d get for the two tons +of refined uranium concentrate I prospected out of Callispo Valley. + +Well, that was all over, and I just sat there at the controls trying +not to bawl. I set her down, gunned up to the Import Shed, checked in +my cargo by short-wave--God, but that first voice sounded good,--and +turned the 40-ton crate over to the Port Receiver. And then the first +human eyes in three years watched me shake out fourteen inches of beard +and climb down on good old U. S. A., Earth, dirt. + +He was the surface jockey, a blond young man in a black jumper, and I +almost hugged him I was so glad to see flesh and blood again. I was +especially glad, although a little surprised they hadn’t sent out one +of those gangly robot jockeys they were beginning to use at the ports +when I left for Venus. It would have been a hell of a homecoming, +staring into those fish eyes for a welcoming committee. + +I pumped his hand and said, “Boy, do you look good to me! How come no +robots on duty around here? And what’s the red star on your forehead +for?” + +“Welcome home, mister,” he said. “You must have been out there for +quite a while. You’ll find things changed, I imagine. If you want I’ll +take over now.” + +Sure. Things were bound to be changed after three years. But not +certain people, not Tommy and Alec and Forest and--and maybe not even +Gwendolyn. I didn’t dare to expect that Gwen was still waiting for me, +but I couldn’t help hoping. + +I knocked the glass out of a phone booth getting in and started +punching coins into the slot. Tommy was out, but Alec answered and +swore a grand welcome. He’d have the gang rounded up at his flat in two +hours. + +“I’ll be there soon as I get my lawn mowed,” I told him. “And say, how +about, uh, is Gwen still around?” + +“Of course. She’ll be there.” Just like that. + +I noticed everyone on the taxi ramp wore red stars, five-pointed +affairs about an inch across, right smack in the middle of their +foreheads. Funny kind of a fad, I thought. Nobody had paid much +attention to me around the Port, but when I got out of the cab at the +Vilt Hotel I got long goings-over. The driver wore a red star. So did +the hotel clerk, and a woman in an ermine wrap, and about nine-tenths +of the people in the lobby. I stared as hard at them as they did at me. + +I got a room and took a bath. Then, feeling self-conscious in my +out-of-date clothes, I went down to the barbershop. Here I got a real +surprise. The barbers were barbers! The shoe-shine boy and the porter +were amiable looking darkies! + +He no more got the bib under my chin than I asked, “What happened to +all the robots? Not that I prefer them, you understand. But what’s the +score? I’ve been away, and I thought--” + +The barber grinned. “You must have been away. I suppose you mean those +animated junk piles three or four years ago. They’re gone. Nothing on +the hoof but Government issue now.” Without any comment he clapped a +rubber something over my nose and I took a dive. + + * * * * * + +When I woke up my beard was on the floor, I was trimmed, shaved, +manicured and shined. That being my first brush with barbershop +anaesthetic, now I understood the sign on the mirror: WE FEATURE THE +NEW DREAM SERVICE. This new wrinkle made me forget about the robots. +But one thing I did notice. In this barbershop there were only five +chairs where they used to have them strung out as far as you could see. +And there was something else that should have tipped me off to the +situation. All the other four chairs were occupied by fellows without +red stars on their faces. + +But me, I was space-happy about then with the prospect of seeing Gwen +and the gang, so I didn’t think any more of it at the time. I caught +an interurban Hedge-Hopper for New York and spent the time wondering a +game of she-loves-me, she-loves-me-not. + +Alec had done pretty well in two hours. Almost everybody I knew in New +York State was jammed into his apartment when I got there. I looked +around for Gwen. Forest said she’d be along pretty soon. She came in +on Tommy’s arm looking about as sweet as the girl you’re still in love +with can look. She held out her arms and kissed me, but there was a +little too much “Welcome home” in that hug, and not enough “Gee, Bill, +but I’ve missed you!” to suit me. Tommy didn’t approve too much of what +she did give me, but he seemed cordial enough at first. + +So things were like that. Old Pal, Old Gal, and Absence Makes the +Heart Go Wander. + +Gwen wasn’t wearing a diamond, so I said to myself, nuts, Tommy’s a +nice guy, but he wasted too much time. After awhile I got her alone out +on Alec’s little balcony. It developed that Tommy had made more headway +than I figured. She was pretty stand-offish at first. + +I was just beginning to get somewhere when the door jerked open behind +us. Tommy saw me with my arm around Gwen’s shoulder. He looked mean, +and that red star on his forehead made him look meaner. + +“What’s up, Tommy!” I asked. + +“Your number’s up if you don’t lay off Gwen. She’s my girl now.” + +“Hey, wait a minute,” I said. “This is still America.” + +“Come on, Gwen.” He took her arm and jerked. I was in no mood for that. +I lined out a left jab across his bow. Somehow a fist got in my way. It +was Tommy’s fist, and I could feel a couple of bones in my hand crack +when our knuckles met. + +He said, “Go away!” giving me a little shove that almost dumped me over +the railing for a six-story glide. By the time I got untangled Tommy +had towed Gwen out of the flat. + +I went back to the party almost as mad as I was curious. I collared +Alec and asked him, “Since when did Tommy become an ironman? I used to +toss him around like a sparrow. And incidentally what’s all this red +star business? It looks pretty silly to me.” + +Alec looked at me kind of funny. “You don’t--know what the red star +signifies?” I shook my head, and he frowned. “Look,” he said, “let’s +have a party tonight, and I’ll tell you all about it in the morning.” + +That was all right with me. This crowded flat was getting on my nerves, +so I invited the whole mob into a fleet of cabs and went searching for +some night life. + + * * * * * + +We were barely out in the lights when a snubby little vehicle whammed +out of a sidepass and just about pulverized our lead cab. + +“Oh, that’s too bad!” Alec said. “I think Forest and Kelly were in that +one. They’ll hate to miss this party.” + +“Too bad?” I shouted. “My God, is that all it is when a couple of your +buddies get ground into a pudding? Look at that mess.” + +That’s all our driver did, was to glance at the two smoking, half-fused +lumps of machinery then swing out around them and back into traffic. +Alec caught my arm. + +“Take it easy, Bill. They’re not hurt. That’s all part of this new +set-up. I guess I’d better tell you now.” + +I guessed he better had. My stomach was rising and about to shine. I +said, “None of your supersurgery is going to do those boys any good. +They’re pulp!” + +“Bill, there isn’t a spot of real flesh and blood back there on the +pavement, unless the cab driver was _fleshing it_, and damned few of +them do.” Just then the cab stopped. Alec shouted to the rest that we’d +be back pretty soon. He turned on the dome-light and told the driver to +cruise around. + +Tapping his red star solemnly he said, “Bill, have you ever thought +about _not dying_--ever?” He stuck out a bare hand. He cramped his +fingers, wiggled them, pressed each against his thumb then grabbed my +hand and gave it a squeeze. It felt warm and human until he put the +pressure on. I got the sensation of being caught in a hydraulic vise. +There was inhuman power in those slender fingers. + +“Jab it and it’ll jump. Cut it and it’ll bleed. Freeze it and it would +rot off if you didn’t replace it. It’s fifty per cent stronger and +reacts with greater sensitivity and coordination than the hand I was +born with.” + +I didn’t understand yet, but I was getting disgusted already. Alec +said, “Now keep your mind open a minute, Bill. Here, I’ll show you some +more.” He bared the right half of his upper torso. Touching a spot +in his armpit he laid open a flap of skin over his right breast. In +a four-inch cubic cavity snuggled a red rubber lump with two tubular +outlets that buried their opposite ends in his body. “That’s the power +pick-up. The sympathetic mechanism is in the skull.” + +I watched him rearrange his clothing. I said, “So the red star +signifies a robot? So I’ve been on a party with a bunch of pretty +synthetics? Okay, Mister Rubber-Liver, now tell me what happened to +Alec. Where is he? DON’T tell me they cut his heart and brain out and +stuck it in that phony flesh-pot. I don’t believe it, and if you don’t +tell me where Alec is I’ll scramble your cogs.” + +What I had been calling “Alec” laughed nervously and realistically. +“You give me the same chills we all had when we first tried these +_proxies_ out. It does seem a bit ghastly at first, but it’s all +so perfect that you can’t argue it down. Bill, I’m in two places +at once. Right now my real body is back at my apartment in an +indestructible--well, you won’t like the word, but we call them +coffins. Oh, very well, don’t believe me. I’ll show you, by heaven!” + +We drove back to his apartment. I was so befuddled it didn’t even seem +strange when he told me to wait beside him while he stretched out full +length in front of a closed door leading out of his kitchenette. He +relaxed and then sagged even more, until he was motionless at my feet. +The door clicked an inch ajar behind me. Alec’s voice yelled out _from +the room_. “Wait a minute, Bill.” + + * * * * * + +I wasn’t waiting. I was finding out. I kicked the door open and +found myself in a five-by-eight cell with just enough room for the +narrow door to swing in and miss a sure-enough coffin. Only it was +transparent, and the body in it was just lying down making itself +comfortable. A white arm was reaching up to close the lid when the head +turned and saw me. + +It was Alec, all right, naked and looking kind of annoyed. “Dammit, +Bill, I told you--well, it’s no longer sterile in here, so come in.” He +shoved back the lid, got out and took a robe off a hook. + +“Are you convinced now?” He grinned and stuck out his hand. I was +convinced, but I wasn’t happy about it. + +“Yeah, I suppose so,” I admitted, “but now that I’m here, how does it +work?” + +He put on the robe and reached down inside the coffin. “These two +levers control the whole business. This one,” he pressed it, “cuts +in the proxy. When my head is between those electrode plates I’m in +perfect rapport. Watch.” + +He bent into the coffin. I heard a shuffle on the kitchen floor, and +in walked another Alec. I looked from one to the other. It wasn’t a +healthy sensation. I said, “Cut it out. One of you guys is enough at a +time.” The proxy lay down carefully, and Alec withdrew his head. + +“This other lever controls the lamps and the gas.” He moved it, and +the glass box filled with a smoky blue light from tubes that ran the +length of the inside edges. “That fog is an organic gas that seeps in +at specific rate. It’s mixed with oxygen, and when you inhale it your +lungs absorb it directly into the blood stream. In the presence of this +ultra-violet H-light your body can utilize the stuff by photosynthesis. +A shot of synthetic porphyrins once a month keeps up an abnormal +sensitivity to light, and your blood stream manufactures enough +carbohydrates to supply the minimum energy you use up lying prone and +in your hour’s exercise a day.” + +“Exercise?” + +“Of course. There would be general atrophy of the whole body if +you didn’t flex your muscles once in awhile. This short-wave light +keeps your organs toned up and inhibits infection. The whole room +is sterilized once a day or whenever the door is opened. The door, +incidentally, locks only on the inside.” + +“What,” I asked, “would happen if I lay down in there?” + +“Nothing. You’ll have to have your own proxy molded and synchronized. +They’re one-man affairs.” + +“Whatever made you think I’d have one of those blasted things around +impersonating me,” I grouched. + +“Hell, you’re impossible. Get out of here. I’m going to sterilize this +room.” + +I slammed out of the apartment before Alec’s proxy came to life. + + * * * * * + +The next morning I got Gwen on the phone. She was still a little cool, +but she apologized. “It wasn’t fair for Tommy to push you around while +you were _fleshing it_. If you reported him he’d stand a stiff fine.” + +“He’ll stand a carbon knock in his carburetor if he crosses me again,” +I promised her. “How about you and me at the Vilt Ballroom tonight--in +the flesh?” I added. There was a little silence. + +“You don’t understand, Bill. We don’t flesh it unless something serious +happens to our proxies, and then only until they’re repaired. Besides, +you’d better stay away from me until your proxy is completed. Tommy has +taken certain proprietary rights in me these days, and he’s terribly +jealous.” + +In my Sunday vocabulary I told her what the Government Health Bureau +could do with their proxies. She took this as a reflection upon +herself, which it more or less was, I guess. Anyway, she hung up on me. + +The first thing, I decided, was to teach Tommy the Open Door Policy. I +didn’t want him butting in when I got in the swing with Gwen. I found +his proxy at his office behind a lucite door labeled, ASSISTANT TRAFFIC +MANAGER, Stratas Five. + +“Tommy,” I said, “for the sake of old times I won’t pop you. But get +this straight, next time you shove that plastic nose into my business +your proxy’ll be crying for a proxy. Incidentally, if you ever have +guts enough to play paddy-cake for keeps, leave that super-stand-in at +home and come see me.” + +Tommy smiled with a set of perfect, of course, teeth. “The trouble with +you, Bill, is that you’re in my office. Your flesh is stinking up the +place. Get out.” + +“Tommy, stand up and defend yourself.” + +Tommy not only stood up but he slapped down my special one-two punch +like an Oreus Bug-eater spanking flies. Then he threw me out. + +This was getting not only monotonous but kind of painful. Now both +hands ached, and I bled from minor lacerations I won’t identify. + + * * * * * + +I got pretty interested watching them put my first proxy together +that afternoon. It was much more complicated than I had thought. Only +the skeletal structure was inanimate when brought into short-wave +rapport. There was a heart and a regular bloodstream. They explained +that a nervous system operates under more influences than afferent +and efferent control impulses, and in order to give sensation and +emotional reaction they had to include synthetic glands to release +real secretions like adrenalin. Hence, they needed a bloodstream, +which distributed the various juices and produced authentic reactions +and adjustments to the emotional stimuli of the real body and the +environmental conditions of the proxy. + +It wasn’t a bad experience at all. They even warmed the mud for the +moulage cast, and it felt kind of good mushing around in it until I +got told to lie still. The first proof of the matrix showed every mole +and hair on me, even the tiny insect scars I collected on Venus. + +I was sitting there admiring the finished product--it’s a funny +sensation getting the first good look at the back of your neck--when a +guy stepped up with a short-handled hammer and potted my poor proxy on +the forehead. The damned indelible red star! It reminded me of certain +aspects of second-hand living that had slipped my mind. + +This ghoulish feeling got even stronger that night when I lay down +in my new apartment, in my new cell, in my new coffin. Following +directions, I had locked the door from the inside, stripped, sterilized +the cell and pulled the transparent coffin lid down over me. The two +levers jutted conveniently by my hand. I pushed the first one and had +to close my eyes against the sharp H-light. A warm draft of sweetish +gas drifted in, smelling like grass right after it’s cut. The deadly +silence and this smell reminded me of a cemetery. I noted my heart +slow down, then I didn’t seem to need such deep breaths. This was +approaching the state of semi-suspended animation they had explained +would lengthen a man’s life span almost indefinitely. + +When I pulled the second lever something seemed to jar my brain into +a long tunnel full of mercury. At one end was this coffin affair and +my earthly clay. The other end let out through the eyes of my proxy in +the white laboratory of the Government Health Bureau eight miles away. +After a few minutes of this mental ice-skating I decided to take over +my understudy, which just required, apparently, a curious feeling as to +what was going on at the other end of the line. + +I stood my new container up on its feet and did a little experimental +shadow-boxing. After a few minutes a blonde, red-star female came +in and tossed me a towel to wipe off the salty scum of synthetic +perspiration and said, “Nothing wrong with that build. It’ll get you +there and back. If you want to leave now, your clothes are in there.” + +The long mirror in the dressing room showed the one flaw in my proxy. I +was _supposed_ to be blushing. + + * * * * * + +Back at the apartment I smeared some makeup over the red star. My +Venusian complexion, which was still about the color of an old soccer +ball, and which they had refused to improve in my proxy, made it easy +to disguise the mark. It was a penitentiary offense I’d been told, but +I wanted to find out something about Tommy. + +Knowing that Gwen had a date with Tommy, I got there early. She let me +in and then invited me to get out. “Tommy’ll be here any minute,” she +told me, avoiding her star with a powder puff. + +I said, “You almost look human in that purple outfit.” + +“Well, I don’t want blood spattered all over it,” she said. “Oh Bill, +why didn’t you get a proxy. I--I think a great deal of both of you. +You’re no match for Tommy’s proxy. Tommy will kill you, then he’ll be +executed, then I’ll throw away my proxy and let myself dry up to be an +old maid.” + +“I don’t quite get this Gwen. You’ve changed a lot. The Gwen I used to +know hated a bully. You stand there and tell me that Tommy will use his +proxy to mash me up in my skin, and still you’re sweet on him.” + +She looked just a little embarrassed. “You aren’t used to things yet, +Bill. The ethics are changed. If you stay you’ll be leering at Tommy +and baiting him. You know what a temper he has.” + +“Well, my ethics haven’t changed any,” I said. “And personally, I doubt +that you’re right about Tommy. I like Tommy. We were pals. Sure he’s +got a temper, but if it’s changed him into an adolescent maniac, then +maybe you shouldn’t be running around with him. Anyhow, we’ll find out +pretty soon.” + +“The hard way.” She looked so bleak and concerned I knew she wasn’t +just feeling sorry for herself. The trouble was I couldn’t be sure if +it was Tommy or me she was really worried about. I finally figured +there was one way of finding out, but I got only half way to her when +Tommy busted in. Very sweet he looked until he saw me. + +I led off, “Hello, Pinocchio. Do you look smooth! Who takes the dents +out of your fenders these days?” I was surprised to notice Gwen sit +back in her chair, interested but not so fearful looking any more. +Tommy glared for a second, then he said, “You!” + +“Right,” I admitted. “I see your headlights are adjusted, too. Well, if +you people are going out for the evening, I guess I’ll go home and rest +up. See you tomorrow, Gwen.” + +Science is wonderful. They’ve even improved on a man’s sneer. Tommy’s +lips twisted into something like what a pretzel-maker would dream +about. Deep down in his rubber throat he said, “This is what you asked +for.” + +I dived over the sofa and yelled, “Take it easy, you lug. What are you +going to do?” + + * * * * * + +I let him catch me the third time around the sofa. He knocked down the +few feeble cracks I took at him, then he got ahold of my throat. I +wilted and waited. Here was the answer. + +[Illustration] + +A proxy breathes, but only for the purpose of talking. All the vital +arteries and nerve threads being buried good and deep, it was easy to +let his fingers gouge in. All I felt was the surface pain which there +was plenty of. + +Just when my eyes were supposed to come popping out of my head I quit +play-acting. I reached up and scrubbed my red star clean for Tommy to +look at. “Leggo my tie,” I commanded, and he did. + +“That’s--illegal!” he gagged. It was surprising how fast he cooled off. +Of course he’d been meaning to break a rule or two himself, and it was +only my Trojan Horse in reverse that had stopped him. + +He turned on Gwen and shouted, “That’s a fine sweetheart you are! Why +didn’t you warn me?” + +“Why Tommy, against what?” she asked innocently. “Besides, I didn’t +know for sure. I only guessed.” + +“I don’t know what you can see in a Venusian mud mucker, but if you +want him take him.” + +“Thank you,” Gwen said. “Maybe it’s his ethics I like. Don’t bother +dropping in at the wedding.” + +For a second I thought Tommy was going to throw his proxy into battle, +but I guess he reconsidered the fact that with my proxy I had gotten +back my old muscle ratio in proportion to his somewhat puny one. +Knowing how hard he was going to take this jilt, I wouldn’t even have +kicked him in the pants if he hadn’t used a dirty word on the way out. + +Gwen shut the door after him and said, “He meant to kill you.” + +I asked her, “Were you serious about that wedding?” + +“You just ruined the self-respect of my only other prospect. Do I have +to get down on my hands and knees?” + +“I guess that does leave me a clear field, doesn’t it?” + +She looked at me half smiling and half not smiling. “Well, Bill, what +have I done to deserve all that enthusiasm? Come to think of it, this +was my idea, wasn’t it?” + +Right here I was supposed to say something and put it all right, but +the something wouldn’t come. Gwen came over and turned up her face. If +those had been her real eyes they’d have had tears in them. + +She said, “It looks like I stuck my neck out. Maybe I’ll learn not to +take a proxy for granted.” + +“That’s just it,” I managed to say. “I really wanted to marry you three +years ago, and I still feel that way about the real--you. But I just +can’t get feeling like that about a rubber doll even if it does look +like you.” + +“Oh,” she said and looked down so I couldn’t see her face. + +“Look, Gwen,” I hesitated, then I blurted out, “How do these proxy +people go about getting married?” + +“Same as always. Hunt up a minister and take the vows.” + +“And--then what?” I insisted, and at that instant I made a discovery: +_Lady_ proxies can blush! + +“And then you go out and buy a coffin for two,” she murmured into my +mangled necktie. + + + + +Transcriber’s Note: + + + This etext was produced from Imaginative Tales, September 1955 (Vol. 2, +No. 1). Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. + + Obvious errors have been silently corrected in this version, but minor +inconsistencies have been retained as printed. + + The illustration has been moved to better fit the story. +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78749 *** |