Children of Tomorrow (2 page)

A
few
minutes before Demond Reid emerged from the home of Commander and Mrs Lane, the invisible observer abruptly abandoned its vantage point across the street. It did its remarkable movement thing - and the next instant was three blocks away.

It seemed to know exactly where to go, for the invisible ‘lens’ was focused unerringly on a chase sequence that had, seemingly, just begun. A young teenage boy was running at uneven pace away from a group of slightly older boys and girls - running directly toward the observer. The very moment the watcher took note of this action, an older boy broke free of the group and raced in pursuit of the runaway.

The younger boy’s method of running was almost unnecessarily awkward. He was scrawny of build, and evidently weak, for he staggered and even lost his balance a few times. His pursuer caught him easily, and brought him down with a tackling leap onto the grass beside a pretty white fence.

The captured boy continued to struggle, and actually managed to crawl three feet with the other one holding onto him. This brought him within the ten foot range of the watcher, who was thereby able to project a thought at him.

Do you need help, son? "

No, my father.

Then all is well?

It seemed like a good moment to have someone touch me. Thus, during a confusion, I can test my ability to delude the senses of he who touches. His name is Mike Sutter, and he is one pf the two leading members of this outfit. I think I have succeeded, because I am convincing his perceptive system that I have the shape of a human being.

Good. Are my various suggestions applicable?

Yes. In running away, I pretended that I was afraid of the human father, with whom you have lodged me. My pretense is that if I am home late, he will punish me. I am pretending that the Red Cat outfit, which is what this group is called, will not be able to protect me from him, and they say they can.

The observer was pleased, and telepathed:

Since touching and feeling are the decisive perceptions
-
after

vision
-
ril
watch until this episode completes.

Thank you, my father.

Even as the silent conversation proceeded, the older boy, Mike, stood up, and simultaneously pulled his captive to his feet, held him there while the group of teenage boys and girls walked toward them.

The alien being, who had so swiftly come to help - if needed - his child, surveyed the young people with a grim interest. As with the older men, Lane and Reid . . . earlier ... he was not wholly competent to assess human beings of any age. Which, of course, was why it had been decided to infiltrate the human city of Spaceport.

They must find out exactly what the human race was - how helpless or capable it was, its defenses, and its weaponry.

The watcher looked, first, at Mike Sutter. It saw a slender, wiry, olive-complexioned youth, intense and handsome. Remembering what its own child had reported about Mike - that he was one of the leaders - the observer noted the bright, gray eyes of the boy, and a certain impatience — which reminded it of a similar emotion radiated by John Lane.

The alien knew that its own child bore the human name of Bud Jaeger, but it did not have any identification of the other teenagers, except what was visible. Since it was unlikely that everyone of the young people would be addressed by name, the watcher made do with the visual and the auditory, determined in future to know them anywhere.

The first boy to come up to Mike and Bud was thickset and strong-looking. Since he lacked the intensity of Mike, and seemed in fact to be stolidly unemotional, the alien decided that he was not too intelligent. Following the same line of reasoning by opposites and association, it noted that of the five other boys and four girls also stayed back out of the way. The remaining two girls moved briskly up to Mike. One was blonde and of medium height; the other brunette, and small.

At the exact moment that the girls walked up, Bud made an attempt to break away. But Mike hung on grimly. His effort having failed, Bud kicked at Mike’s shins. It was a glancing blow at best, but it must have been painful. Mike winced, then drew one hand back and struck Bud in the chest.

Once again, it must have been painful for Mike, for he pulled his hand and shook it violently - as if he were striving hastily to vibrate the pain out of it.

The two girls seemed not to notice his sudden physical anguish. The blonde girl half turned back toward the good-looking blond boy, who had stopped a few feet away and was watching the
interchange with a manner that had a firmness in it that yet suspended immediate judgement.

She said, ‘Lee, I don’t think Mike should be allowed to hit Bud.’

Before Lee could answer, Mike said in an outraged tone, ‘Susan, before you jump to any conclusions, please notice: I’m the only one that’s been hurt so far. Bud kicked
me
in the ankles

and he’s got bones in all the wrong places. ’Cause when I hit him just now, I nearly broke
my
knuckles - ’

The alien, who had been anxiously aware of the two actions, projected a thought at its child:

Aren’t you making too many tests in a short space of time?

No, father. For a few moments there, and actually still, there was another period of confusion. Mike’s attention was on the other members of the outfit. I want to establish in Mike's mind that it hurts to hit me. I analyse that he's the impulsive one, who may lash out at me without waiting for instructions from Lee David, the leader of this outfit.

Lee David. That is the husky blond youth who has just come up?

Yes.

And that girl, who was addressed as Susan - the blonde girl. Is that Susan Lane?

Yes. And the girl beside her is Marianne Baker. Although he doesn't seem interested, she’s trying to be Mike's girl.

You’ve learned a great deal on your first evening
,

This is my time for indoctrination.

All right, son.

The watcher was more at peace now. The minutes were passing; and the pseudo-human, Bud Jaeger, was handling the situation with a skill that would have been admirable in an older alien.

It was that Lee David was reading his watch. The blond youth, who seemed to be the oldest member of the outfit, looked up, and said in a voice that was surprisingly deep-toned, ‘Well, jabbers, it’s twenty-five to twelve. I think that’s long enough to keep Bud out this evening. Sack, Mike?’

The wiry, dark-haired boy hesitated. Lee, why not until twelve?’ he asked finally. ‘Our usual time for stoppers.’

Lee smiled. ‘Bud is scared enough. I think we’ve got the same result.’ He glanced around at the others, seeking agreement. ‘Sack?’

A chorus of 'sacks’ greet his query - all except Mike, who was silent, but who finally said reluctantly, ‘If that’s the way you want it.’

The blue-eyed Lee gave the slig
htly younger boy a quick, chal
lenging glance, as if questioning the other’s tone, A moment later, he asked, 'What’s the push, Mike?
⁵
Once more, Mike hesitated, then: ‘No push.'

Lee replied instantly, ‘There’s a doubt pushing out of you. Jack it out, so we can scan it.’

Mike’s expression was clearing. He removed his hand from the grip it had on Bud’s coat collar. ‘All unpacked, Lee/ he said. A warm, friendly smile creased his face. ‘All sack/

Lee said, ‘Sack.’ He turned to the others, made a dispersal gesture. ‘Sack,’ he said once again. He turned and walked quickly over to Susan. ‘Let’s go, moocher,’ he said.

Susan caught his arm. ‘Sack, everybody,’ she said.

All except Bud answered, ‘Sack.’

The pert, little brunette took hold of Mike’s arm, stood beside him and with him watched Lee and Susan walk hurriedly away. Mike, watching, shook his head, but he was tolerant now. ‘Too bad,’ he said.

Marrianne gave him a quick glance. 'What’s the push, Mike?’ Mike shrugged. ‘I’ll tell you when I take you home,’ he said. Without waiting for a further co
mm
ent, he turned toward Bud. ‘Sack, Bud.’

Bud asked anxiously, Does that mean I can go?’

Mike nodded.

‘But who’s going to go home with me, and face my old man? He said he’d beat the tar out of me if I went with an outfit.’ His tone was one of rising fear.

Mike said, ‘Bud, we’ve explained the choice. We can take you to the Hall, or take you home. Make up your mind.’

‘Oh, I’ve got to go home,’ Bud shrilled. ‘I’ve got to. I wouldn’t dare stay out all night.’

Mike pursed his lips, and turned to the heavyset boy. ’Albert, take Bud home.’ He handed Albert a tiny instrument. ‘If his father makes trouble, press this button. You’ll have help in three minutes. Sack?’

Bud was not to be reassured. ‘What kind of help?’ he half yelled.

Mike gazed at
him
steadily. ‘Sack, Bud,’ he said, in a steady voice.

The tone arrested Bud’s attention. His small face twisted up toward Mike. 'What docs that mean?’ he asked.

‘It means that I want an answer that shows that you’ve heard what I said.’

‘What kind of an answer?’ Bud seemed transfixed.

'Say, “Sack, Mike”.’

‘And if I say "Sack”!’ Bud’persisted, 'that means I’ve heard

you, and that I believe you, and that ends our conversation, and I go home.’

‘You’re pretty sharp, Bud. That’s what it means.’

‘But I
don't
believe it,’ said Bud.

Mike said placatingly, ‘You’ll soon have confidence in our word, Bud. Except very occasionally, we speak what we think.’

‘How do I know
this
is not one of the occasions when you don’t?’

‘Because I tell you it isn’t.’ Abruptly impatient, Mike broke off. ‘Sack, Bud.’ He spoke in a deliberate tone.

There was a long pause, during which the watcher telepathed the alien child:

Say it, boy!

I’m still testing.

I know. But I analyse that, with Mike, the moment has come for agreement.

Nevertheless, my father, I really will have trouble when I get home. You selected Mr Jaeger because he was a man who would resist outfit control of children. He’s already told me that so long as I stay with him, Fd better not get in with an outfit. I’m not sure I can handle a grown human being without giving myself away,

‘Til go over there with you, my son. So don't worry.

The alien child replied:

Fm not afraid for myself. But I don't want to be found out before my mission is completed. I should tell you, however, that I already believe that I, a mere boy of my race, overmatch these human beings completely, and I might even deduce that they have no defense against people like us. I already feel, my father, that we could capture this planet.

The watcher was disturbed by what seemed to it to be a too- rapid judgement.

Don't be hasty, my son. Things are not always what they seem
,
Take the allotted time. Complete your espionage mission.

The rapid interchange ended and Bud looked up at Mike, and said aloud, slowly, ‘Sack - Mike.’

Alike Sutter and Marianne Baker stood side by side as Bud walked off beside Albert. When they were out of earshot, Mike said, half to himself, ‘Funny kid. Look at the way he walks. Kind of shuffling.’

The watcher, who was still focused on them, waited grimly. Was it possible the boy suspected? That the close contact situation had not been properly handled?

Mike was shaking his head. Well, there’s another problem, Looks like there’s no end to them.’

Marianne caught his arm. Her pretty little egg of a face looked up at him worshipfully. ‘Alike, what’s the push about Lee?’

The watcher was relieved to realise that her words distracted the human boy. Mike shrugged. ‘He ended the evening before it was time for a private reason that he didn’t jack out.’- ‘Then why didn’t you push?’

Mike was thoughtful, the tolerant expression back on his face. 'It’s not always easy to know when to push, and when not to. Susan’s dad came home today after the longest hike in the history of Spaceport.’

‘Oh! You think Lee
-
¹

Mike nodded. ‘I think Lee wanted Susan to get home early.’ ‘What’s wrong with that? Why didn’t we just let Susan off for the evening? We’ve done it before.’

The boy shook his head. His Ups tightened. ‘No. Her old man is a booter, if there ever was one - just like my dad. The outfits cannot compromise with people like that, became they don’t compromise. And a concession merely looks like weakness.’

He had started walking as he spoke these words. Marianne hastily fell in beside him. Mike finished his thought: ‘Looks like we’ve got lots of problems coming up just about when I figured there’d be some peace. So I could use a little mooching, moocher.' ‘Sack, Mooch.’

They mooched.

Approximately
ten minutes had gone
by.
Inside the Lane house, during that time, Estelle nervously retreated into her bedroom, undressed, hesitated - half expecting that her husband would be anxious to join her — but when there was not a sound, her Ups tightened. With determination, suddenly, she put on a pair of pajamas and then s
li
pped into a lounging robe.

And, sti
ll
, she half expected him to come to her; and so, once more, sitting there on the edge of the bed, a little uncertain as the seconds went by, she went from anticipation to wonder through the old, old resentment, and finally - again - an outraged anger.

But in her, such an emotion could not remain long. She thought abruptly: That man, that incredible man!

With that, the anger faded, and she got up and went out of

the bedroom and into the book-lined room with the bar. Her husband was silhoueted against the window behind the bar, and she saw that he was in the final stages of mixing himself a drink,

With his usual instant courtesy, he held his own glass out to her. When she shook her head, not trusting herself to speak - yet - he asked, ‘May I pour you your favorite?’

For a moment the expression on her face toyed with the thought of testing whether he did, in fact, remember her favourite cocktail. She decided against that. It might weaken her resolve, might make her feel that he did care for hear in his fashion — which was not good enough, thank you.

Whereupon, she shook her head, no. As she did so, she grew aware that the man was gazing at her, as if taking her in with his whole vision. In the past, she had thought of it as being eaten by his eyes; and from him, she had enjoyed the sensation. With it, always, there had been the implication that she was indeed a tasty dish. Unfortunately, after a moment, she was impatient with his stereotype. Truth was, after ten years she no longer felt herself to be delicious and delightful to the taste, and his long absence actually proved that that was his real opinion also.

Despite her rejection of his pattern, she could not quite bring herself to say rejecting words about it. She thought: After all, I’ve been making my peace with this villain all day . . . and, of course for a decade before that. The time to leave had been when he accepted the distant-space assignment six years before without coming home.