The Twilight Zone: Complete Stories (25 page)

Eleven months had passed. They had been incredible months for Corry. Incredible in the sense that everything had changed. Loneliness had become quiet and solitude. The vast expanse of desert had taken on a strange beauty. The star-filled nights held interest and mystery. He sat on the porch at the close of a day and wrote in his diary. “Alicia has been with me now for almost a year. Twice when Allenby has brought the ship in with supplies I’ve hidden her so that the others wouldn’t see her. I’ve seen the question in Allenby’s eyes each time. It’s a question I ask myself It is difficult to write down what has been the sum total of this very bizarre relationship. It is man and woman, man and machine, and there are times when I know that Alicia is simply an extension of myself I hear my words coming from her. My emotions. The things that she has learned to love are the things that I have loved.”

He stopped and listened to the sound of Alicia singing from inside the shack. The voice high and clear. He smiled and continued to write again. “But I think I’ve reached the point now where I shall not analyze Alicia any longer. I shall accept her simply as a part of my life—an integral part.”

He continued to write, silently turning the page, conscious of Alicia’s voice as it drifted from inside the shack. She came to the door and smiled at him. He knew the smile as he knew the face. Each line. Each expression. Each look of the eyes. He smiled and winked at her, then threw her a kiss. She turned from the door and disappeared. He looked down at what he had been writing. “Because I’m not lonely anymore, each day can now be lived with. I love Alicia. Nothing else matters.”

It was night and she lay cradled in his arms as they looked up toward the stars.

“Look. Alicia,” Corry said. “That’s the star, Betelgeuse. It’s in the constellation of Orion. And there’s the Great Bear with its pointer stars in line with the Northern star. And there’s the constellation Hercules. See it, Alicia?” He traced a path across the sky with a finger, then turned to look down at her face. It was in shadow, only her eyes visible in the starlight.

“God’s beauty,” she answered softly.

Corry nodded. “That’s right, Alicia. God’s beauty.”

The girl suddenly stiffened. “That star,” she asked. “What’s that star, Corry?”

Corry studied the tiny dot that traversed the night sky. “That’s not a star. That’s a ship, Alicia.”

“A ship?”

The tiny dot grew in brightness and dimension as they were watching. Alicia turned to him. “There’s no ship due here now, Corry. You said not for another three months. You said after the last time it wouldn’t be for another—”

Corry’s voice interrupted her. “It must be Allenby’s ship,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s the only one that ever comes close. They stop at the other asteroids, then go home.” He looked away pensively “That means they’ll probably be here by morning.” His voice was heavy with question. “I wonder why!”

Alicia rose. “Corry? What does it mean?”

He smiled at her in the darkness. “In the morning we’ll find out.” He held out a hand to her and she moved back down to him, clinging to him, and Corry felt again the closeness...almost the oneness. He put his lips to her hair then touched her cheek and then her chin. He kissed her and was no longer aware of desert or stars or of the tiny dot of light that hurtled through space toward them.

Like all dawns, it was bright and hot and the stillness was broken only by the distant voice of Allenby. His shout carried over the silence and after a moment Corry could see him running from far off beyond the first ring of dunes. Behind him were two space-suited figures trying to keep up with the commander. When Allenby reached Corry he was out of breath, his face white with exhaustion.

“Where the hell have you been?” Allenby asked.

Corry saw something special in his face, a look he had not seen before. “Right here. You have trouble?”

Allenby grinned, some of the exhaustion seeping away. “No, we didn’t have any trouble.” He took a side look at the other two men who also grinned—even Adams. Allenby touched Corry’s shoulder. He was obviously trying to restrain himself There was something going on that Corry couldn’t guess at.

“This is a scheduled stop,” Allenby said.

“We’ve got good news for you, Corry,” said Adams.

Corry looked from face to face and he said, “That’s fine, but I’m not interested.”

Allenby squinted against the sun, then grinned again. “You better hear what it is.”

“Allenby. I’m not interested.”

“You will be. This I guarantee.”

Corry again studied the faces of the space-suited men and took a step back from them. There was suspicion now, a germ of doubt and the beginning of an alarm.

“Allenby,” he said. “Give me a break, will you? I don’t want any trouble.”

Allenby laughed. “We don’t either, Corry—”

Adams turned to Jensen. “He gets worse,” he said. “If we’d come a month later, he’d have been eating sand or something.”

Corry suddenly felt that he had to get away from these men. He turned with a kind of enforced nonchalance and started away from them back toward the shack.

“Corry!” Allenby called out after him.

Corry walked faster and then, hearing Allenby’s footsteps behind him, broke into a dead run.

“Corry!” Allenby caught up with him, grabbed him by the shoulders and whirled him around. “Listen, you Goddamn idiot. It’s this way! Your sentence has been reviewed. You’ve been given a pardon. We’re to take you back home on the ship.”

Corry’s eyes went wide. His mouth was open. He did not believe what he heard. Allenby saw the look and laughter came back into his voice, the laughter of relief; the laughter of the bearer of such fantastically good tidings that they could almost not be put into words.

“But I’m going to tell you something, you dumb bastard,” Allenby roared at him. “We’ve got to take off from here in exactly twenty-one minutes. We can’t wait any longer. We’ve been dodging meteor storms all the way out and we’re almost out of fuel. Any longer than twenty-one minutes, we’ll have passed the point of departure and then I don’t think we’d ever make it.”

Tears were in Corry’s eyes as he looked at Allenby and the two men who stood on one of the dunes watching him. Corry closed his eyes, blinking back the wetness. He tried to speak and for a moment nothing came out.

“Allenby…Allenby, wait just a minute, will you?” He opened his eyes. “What did you just say? What did you just say about a—”

“A pardon,” Allenby said, his voice rich and deep and still full of laughter. “A pardon, Corry.”

“But it won’t do any of us any good,” Adams called out, “unless you get your stuff together and ready to move, Corry. We’ve picked up three other men off asteroids and we’ve only got room for about fifteen pounds of stuff. So you’d better pick up what you need in a hurry and leave the rest of it behind.” He looked off, grinning, in the direction of the shack. “Such as it is,” he added.

Corry’s voice shook with excitement and he tried to throttle himself “Stuff?” he asked. “My stuff? I don’t even have fifteen pounds of stuff.”

He started to laugh as he walked back toward the shack. The words came out between gusts of laughter, roaring, unquenchable, joyful laughter. Laughter of such massive relief and thanksgiving that it was unrelated to any emotion he had ever felt before.

“I’ve got a shirt,” he said as he walked, “a pencil and a ledger book and a pair of shoes.” The tears rolled down his cheeks as he laughed again. “A Goddamn pair of shoes, that’s what I’ve got.” He looked across the bare space toward the antique car. “The car you can keep here. That’ll be for the next poor devil.”

Allenby shook his head. “There won’t be any next poor devil, Corry. There won’t be any more exiles. This was the last time.”

“Good,” Corry said. “Wonderful. Thank God for that.”

He talked as they walked back toward the shack, his words spewing out, propelled by his excitement and the incredible joy he felt.

“We’ll let it rest here then. The farthest auto graveyard in the universe, and Alicia and I will wave to it as we leave. Well just look out of a porthole and throw it a kiss good-by. The car, the shack, the salt flats, the range. The whole bloody works! Alicia and I will just—”

He was suddenly aware of the silence and finally he brought himself to look up at Allenby’s face. It looked white and somber. Behind him Adams had stopped, puzzled.

“Who, Corry?” Adams asked. “Who?”

Allenby shut his eyes tight. “Oh my dear God,” he whispered. “I forgot her.”

Corry again looked from face to face and then stopped on Allenby. “Allenby…” It was almost an accusation. “Allenby, it’s Alicia.”

Jensen whispered to Adams, “He’s out of his mind, isn’t he?”

Adams started a slow walk toward Corry. “Who’s Alicia, Corry?”

Corry smiled, shaking his head at what was obviously an absurdity that they shouldn’t know Alicia, that they shouldn’t be aware of her.

“Who’s Alicia?” he laughed aloud. “Adams, you idiot! Who’s Alicia? You brought her! She’s a woman—” Then catching Allenby’s look, his voice was softer. “A robot. But closer to a woman,” he added. “She’s kept me alive, Allenby. I swear to God—if it weren’t for her,” he looked around at the circle of silent faces.

“What’s the matter?” Corry asked. “You worried about Alicia?” He shook his head. “You needn’t be. Alicia’s harmless. She’s like a woman. She is a woman. And she’s gentle and kind and without her, Allenby, I tell you without her I’d have been finished. I’d have given up.” His voice was quiet now. “You would have had to come back here only to bury me.”

Adams looked at the commander. “That’s what you wouldn’t let us look at, huh? The crate with the red tag?”

Allenby turned away.

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Corry said to him, “but I had to let it out—”

Allenby held up his hand. “That’s all right, Corry. That’s all over with. But unfortunately, that’s not the problem—”

Again Corry laughed high and uncontrollable. “Problem? There aren’t any problems. There are no more problems in Heaven or on Earth. We’ll pack up fifteen pounds of stuff and we’ll climb in that ship of yours and when we get back to the beautiful green Earth—”

He stopped abruptly. In some hidden portion of his mind realization had come to him. His lips formed the silent words. “Fifteen pounds.” Then he whispered it, “Fifteen pounds.” It came out now as a shout, “Fifteen pounds!” He reached out and grabbed Allenby, his face taut, his eyes pleading. “You’ve got to have room for more than that, Allenby. Throw out stuff. Throw out equipment. Alicia weighs more than fifteen pounds.”

Allenby very slowly reached up to remove Corry’s hands from his suit. His voice was heavy with misery. “That’s the point,” he said quietly. “We’re stripped now, Corry. We’ve got room for you and nothing else except that ledger of yours and the pencil.” He shook his head slowly back and forth. “You’ll have to leave the robot behind.”

Corry stared at him aghast. His voice shook. “She’s not just a robot, Allenby. You don’t understand. You simply don’t understand. You leave her behind...that’s...that’s murder.”

Allenby shook his head again. “I’m sorry, Corry. I don’t have any choice! God, man, don’t you understand? I simply don’t have any choice!”

Corry backed away, his body suddenly feeling cold. “No, Allenby. You don’t understand. You can’t leave her behind,” He suddenly turned and screamed. “Alicia! Come here!” He whirled around toward the three men. “You’ll see,” he shouted at them. “You’ll see why you can’t leave her behind. Alicia!” he shouted again.

He turned and ran toward the shack, climbing the steps in a single bound, slamming against the door and flinging himself into an empty room. Allenby was behind him. The other two stood on the porch.

“Where is she, Corry?” Allenby asked.

“I don’t know But when you see her, you’ll know why you can’t leave her behind.”

“Look, Corry,” Adams said from the porch, “we just want you to get your gear packed and get out of here.” He looked at his watch nervously. “We’ve only got about ten minutes. How about it, Captain?”

Allenby took a deep breath. “Come on, Corry,” he said gently.

Corry backed into the room. “I’m not leaving, Allenby,” he said. “I told you that. I can’t leave.”

He stood against the far wall. It was incredible to him that they didn’t understand. It was beyond belief that they didn’t perceive what surely must be such an evident truth. You couldn’t leave a beautiful woman alone on an asteroid. Not someone like Alicia.

Allenby read his thoughts. He gritted his teeth, his fingers clenched and unclenched. He took a step toward Corry. “Corry,” he said, “this is our last trip here. This is everybody’s last trip. It’s off the route now. That means no supplies, no nothing. That means if you stay here—you die here. And that way, there’d be a day, Corry, when you’d pray for death to come quicker than it’s bargained for.”

Corry shook his head, rejecting him, rejecting his words. There was no logic. There were no answering facts. There was just this one simple truth. “I can’t leave her behind, Allenby. And you won’t take her. So that means I stay.” His face agonized, he threw himself against the window and screamed out toward the desert beyond. “Alicia! Alicia...don’t come. Stay away!”

Allenby moved across the room hurriedly. He grabbed Corry, pulled him close to him. It was now and only now. The thing had to be done now.

“Corry,” he said, “I saw this...this thing get crated and shoved into a box.”

“I don’t care,” Corry whispered.

“She’s a machine, Corry. She’s a motor with wires, tubes, and batteries.”

“She’s a woman,” Corry said brokenly. “Oh God, Allenby, she’s a woman. She’s my woman.”

Jensen’s voice came from the porch. “Captain, we’ve only got four minutes, sir. We’ve got to leave, sir.”

Adams came in, tense and frightened. “How about it, Captain Allenby? What do you say we leave him here?”

Allenby shook his head. “We can’t leave him here. Sick, mad, or half-alive, we’ve got to bring him back. Those are the orders—” He turned again toward Corry. “It isn’t just you now, Corry,” he said evenly “Now it’s all of us. So that means we can’t talk anymore and we can’t argue with you. We simply have to take you with us.”