Taking paper and pen, he wrote out from memory the formula for the antidote to JJ-180.
‘She’s in the infirmary on the fourth floor,’ Miss Perth rinformed him. ‘I didn’t know she was sick; is it serious?’
Eric handed her the paper, folded. Take this to Jonas. He’ll know what it is and what to do with it.’ He wondered if he should go up to Kathy, tell her that the antidote would soon be • in existence. Beyond the shadow of a doubt he was obliged to, by the most fundamental structure of decency. ‘Okay,’ he said, rising. ‘I’ll go see her.’
‘Give her my best,’ Til Perth called after him as he plodded out of the office into the hall.
‘Sure,’ he murmured.
When he reached the fourth floor infirmary he found Kathy, wearing a white cotton gown, seated in a reclining chair, her legs crossed, feet bare. She was reading a magazine. She looked old and shrunken, and obviously under heavy sedation.
‘Best wishes,’ he said to her, ‘from Til.’
Slowly, with conspicuous difficulty, Kathy glanced up, focused her gaze on him. ‘Any – news for me?’
‘The antidote’s in town. Or soon will be. All Hazeltine Corp. has to do is whip up a batch and express it here. Another six hours.’ He made an attempt to smile encouragingly; it failed. ‘How do you feel?’
‘Fine now. Since you brought me the news.’ She was surprisingly matter-of-fact, even for her with her schizoid ways. The sedation no doubt accounted for it. ‘You did it, didn’t you? Found it for me.’ Then, at last remembering, she added, ‘Oh yes, and for yourself, too. But you could have kept it, not told me. Thanks, dear.’
‘”Dear.”‘ It hurt to hear her use such a word to him.
‘I can see,’ Kathy said carefully, ‘that underneath you really are fond of me still, despite what I’ve done to you. Otherwise you wouldn’t—’
‘Sure I would; you think I’m a moral monster? The cure should be a matter of public record, available for anyone who’s on the damn stuff. Even ‘Starmen. As far as I’m concerned deliberately addictive toxic drugs are an abomination, a crime against life.’ He was silent then, thinking to himself, And someone who addicts another is a criminal and ought to be hanged or shot. ‘I’m leaving,’ he said. ‘Going back to Cheyenne. I’ll see you. Good luck on your therapy.’ He added, trying not to make it sound deliberately unkind, ‘You know, it won’t restore the physical damage already done; you understand that, Kathy.’
‘How old,’ she asked,’do I look?’
‘You look what you are, about thirty-five.’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve seen in the mirror.’
Eric said, ‘See to it, will you, that everyone who took the drug that night with you, that first time, gets some of the antidote; I’ll trust you to do that. Okay?’
‘Of course. They’re my friends.’ She toyed with a corner of her magazine. ‘Eric, I can’t expect you to stay with me now, with the way I am physically. All withered and—’ She broke off and became silent.
Was this his chance? He said, ‘You want a divorce, Kathy? If you do I’ll give it to you. But personally—’ He hesitated. How far could hypocrisy go? What was really required of him now? His future self, his compatriot from 2056, had pleaded with him to break loose from her. Didn’t all aspects of reason dictate that he do so and if possible right now?
In a low voice Kathy said, ‘I still love you. I don’t want to separate. I’ll try to treat you better; honesty I will. I promise.’
‘Shall I be honest?’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You should always be honest.’
‘Let me go.’
She looked up at him. Some of the old spirit, the venom that had etched away the fiber of their relationship, glowed in her eyes. But it was vitiated now. Her addiction, plus the sedation had weakened her; the power which she had formerly exerted over him, trapping him and hugging him to her, had gone. Shrugging, she murmured, ‘Well I asked you to be honest and I got just that. I guess I should be glad.’
‘Will you agree, then? You’ll commence litigation?’
Kathy said carefully, ‘On one condition. If there’s no other woman.’
‘There isn’t.’ He thought of Phyllis Ackerman; that surely didn’t count. Even in Kathy’s suspicion-haunted world.
‘If I find out there is,’ she stated, ‘I’ll fight a divorce; I won’t co-operate. You’ll never get free from me: that’s a promise, too.’
‘Then it’s agreed.’ He felt a great weight slide into the abyss of infinity, leaving him with a merely earthly load, one which I an ordinary human being could bear. Thanks,’ he said.
Kathy said. Thank you, Eric, for the antidote. So look what my drug addiction, my years of using drugs, has meant, finally. It’s made it possible for you to escape. It did accomplish some good after all.’
For the life of him he could not determine if she meant that sardonically. He decided to inquire about something else. ‘When you feel better are you going to resume your job here at TF&D?’
‘Eric, I may have something stirring for me. When I was under the drug’s influence, back in the past—’ she halted, then painfully continued; talking was difficult for her now. ‘I mailed an electronic part to Virgil. Back in the mid 1930s. With a note telling him what to do about it and also who I was. So he’d remember me later on. About now, in fact.’
Eric said, ‘But—’ He broke off.
‘Yes?’ She managed to fix her attention on him, what he was saying. ‘Did I do something wrong? Alter the past and disturb things?’
It was almost impossible, he discovered, to tell her. But she would find out anyhow, as soon as she made inquiries. Virgil would have received no part, because as soon as she left the past the part left, too; Virgil, as a child, had received an empty envelope or nothing at all. He found this mournfully sad.
‘What is it?’ she was asking laboriously. ‘I can tell by your expression – I know you so well – that I did something bad.’
Eric said, ‘I’m just surprised. By your ingenuity. Listen.’ He crouched down beside her, put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t count on it making much difference; your job here with Virgil can’t basically be improved on and anyhow Virgil is hardly the grateful type.’
‘But it was worth a try, don’t you think?’
‘Yes,’ he said, straightening up. He was glad at that point to let it drop.
He said good-by to her, patted her – futilely – once more, and then he made his way to the elevator and from it to Virgil Ackerman’s office.
Virgil, glancing up as he entered, cackled, ‘I heard you were back, Eric. Sit down and tell me how it is; Kathy looks bad, doesn’t she? Hazeltine wasn’t—’
‘Listen,’ Eric said, shutting the door. The two of them were alone. ‘Virgil, can you get Molinari here to TF&D?’
‘Why?’ Birdlike, Virgil regarded him alertly.
Eric told him.
——————————————————————————–
When he had heard, Virgil said, ‘I’ll call Gino. I can hint and because we know each other he’ll understand on an intuitive level. He’ll come. Probably right away; when he acts he goes fast.’
‘I’ll stay here, then,’ Eric decided. ‘I won’t return to Cheyenne. In fact maybe I’d better go back to the Caesar Hotel and stay with Deg.’
‘And take a gun with you,’ Virgil said. He picked up the vidphone receiver and said, ‘Get me the White House in Cheyenne.’ To Eric he said, ‘If they’ve got this line tapped it won’t help them; they won’t be able to tell what we’re talking about.’ Into the receiver he said, ‘I want to talk to secretary Molinari; this is Virgil Ackerman calling personally.’
Eric sat back and listened. It was going well now, finally. He could take this moment to rest. Become simply a spectator.
From the vidphone a voice, that of the White House switchboard operator, squalled in frantic hysteria, ‘Mr Ackerman, is Dr Sweetscent there? We can’t locate him and Molinari, Mr Molinari, I mean, is dead, and can’t be revived.’
Virgil raised his eyes and confronted Eric.
‘I’m on my way,’ Eric said. He felt only numb. Nothing more.
‘Too late,’ Virgil said. ‘I’ll bet you.’
The operator shrilled, ‘Mr Ackerman, he’s been dead two hours how; Dr Teagarden can’t do anything with him, and—’
‘Ask what organ gave out,’ Eric said.
The operator heard him. ‘His heart. Is that you, Dr Sweet-scent? Dr Teagarden said the aortic artery ruptured—’
‘I’ll take an artiforg heart with me,’ Eric said to Virgil. To the operator at the White House he said, Tell Teagarden to keep his body temp as low as he can; I’m sure he’s doing that anyhow.’
There’s one good high-speed ship on the roof field,’ Virgil said. ‘It’s the ship we flew to Wash-35 in; it’s undoubtedly the best anywhere near here.’