Short Fiction by Mack Reynolds (ready to read books .TXT) π

Description
Dallas McCord βMackβ Reynolds was an American science fiction writer who authored almost two hundred short stories and novellas, was a staple in all the major science fiction and fantasy magazines and published dozens of science fiction novels. He began his writing career in the late 1940s. His fiction focused on exploring and challenging both the socioeconomic themes of the day and the implications of the Cold War that raged throughout his career. A thoughtful writer of speculative fiction, many of Mack Reynoldsβ predictions have come to pass, including the credit-card economy, remote warfare and a worldwide computer network. His thoughts about the outcomes of both the Soviet and western political and economic systems are still highly relevant.
This collection gathers stories that were published in Analog, Astounding Science Fiction, Amazing Stories and others. Ordered by date of first publication, they range from spy adventures to the ultimate expression of corporate warfare and from a very short 1000-word story to full-blown novellas.
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- Author: Mack Reynolds
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The Professor returned with an old-fashioned coffeepot, two cups, and sugar and cream on a tray. He put them on a side table and said to Larry, βYouβll join me? How do you take it?β
Larry still had the slightest of hangovers from his solitary drinking of the night before. βThanks. Make it black,β he said.
The Professor poured, served, then did up a cup for himself. He sat back in his chair and said, βNow, where were we? Something about a revolutionary group. What has that to do with counterfeiting?β
Larry sipped the strong coffee. βIt seems there might be a connection.β
The Professor shook his head. βItβs hard to imagine Ernest Self being connected with a criminal pursuit.β
Larry said carefully, βSusan seemed to be of the opinion that you knew about a large amount of counterfeit currency that this Movement had on hand and that you were in favor of spending it upon chorus girls.β
The Professor gaped at him.
Larry chuckled uncomfortably.
Professor Voss said finally, his voice very even, βMy dear sir, I am afraid that I evidently can be of little assistance to you.β
βAdmittedly, it doesnβt seem to make much sense.β
βSusanβ βyou mean that little sixteen year old?β βsaid I was in favor of spending counterfeit money on chorus girls?β
Larry said unhappily, βShe used the term the Professor.β
βAnd why did you assume that the title must necessarily allude to me? Even if any of the rest of the fantastic story was true.β
Larry said, βIn my profession, Professor Voss, we track down every possible clue. Thus far, you are the only professor of whom we know who was connected with Ernest Self.β
Voss said stiffly, βI can only say, sir, that in my estimation Mr. Self is a man of the highest integrity. And, in addition, that I have never spent a penny on a chorus girl in my life and have no intention of beginning, counterfeit or otherwise.β
Larry Woolford decided that he wasnβt doing too well and that heβd need more ammunition if he was going to return to this particular attack. He was surprised that the old boy hadnβt already ordered him from the house.
He finished the coffee preparatory to coming to his feet. βThen you think itβs out of the question, Ernest Self belonging to a revolutionary organization?β
The Professor protested. βI didnβt say that at all. Mr. Self is a man of ideals. I can well see him belonging to such an organization.β
Larry Woolford decided heβd better hang on for at least a few more words. βYou donβt seem to think, yourself, that a subversive organization is undesirable in this country.β
The Professorβs voice was reasonable. βIsnβt that according to what it means to subvert?β
βYou know what I mean,β Woolford said in irritation. βI donβt usually think of revolutionists, even when they call themselves simply members of a movement, as exactly idealists.β
βThen youβre wrong,β the Professor said definitely, pouring himself another cup of coffee. βHistory bears out that almost invariably revolutionists are men of idealism. The fact that they might be either right or wrong in their revolutionary program is beside the point.β
Larry Woolford began to say, βAre you sure that you arenβt interested in this moveβ ββ
But it was then that the knockout drops hit him.
He came out of the fog feeling nausea and with his head splitting. He groaned and opened one eye experimentally.
Steve Hackett, far away, said, βHeβs snapping out of it.β
Larry groaned again, opened the other eye and attempted to focus.
βWhat happened?β he muttered.
βNow thatβs an original question,β Steve said.
Larry Woolford struggled up into a sitting position. Heβd been stretched out on a couch in the Professorβs combined living room and study.
Steve Hackett, his hands on his hips, was looking down at him sarcastically. There were two or three others, one of whom Larry vaguely remembered as being a Secret Service colleague of Steveβs, going about and in and out of the room.
Larry said, his fingers pressing into his forehead, βMy headβs killing me. Damn it, whatβs going on?β
Steve said sarcastically, βYouβve been slipped a mickey, my cloak and dagger friend, and the bird has flown.β
βYou mean the Professor? Heβs a bird all right.β
βHumor we get, yet,β Hackett said, his ugly face scowling. βListen, I thought you people had pulled out of this case.β
Larry sat up and swung his two feet around to the floor. βSo did I,β he moaned, βbut there were two or three things that bothered me and I thought Iβd tidy them up before leaving.β
βYou tidied them up all right,β Steve grumbled. βThis Professor Voss was practically the only lead Iβve been able to discover. An old friend of Selfβs. And you allowed him to get away before we even got here.β
One of Hackettβs men came up and said, βNot a sign of him, Steve. He evidently burned a few papers, packed a suitcase, and took off. His things look suspiciously as though he was ready to go into hiding at a momentβs notice.β
Steve growled to him, βGive the place the works. Heβs probably left some clues around thatβll give us a line.β
The other went off and Steve Hackett sat down in one of the leather chairs and glowered at Larry Woolford. βListen,β he said, βwhat did you people want with Susan Self?β
Larry shook his head for clarity and looked at him. βSusan? What are you talking about? You donβt have any aspirin, do you?β
βNo. Whatβd you mean, what am I talking about? You called Betsy Hughes and then sent a couple of men over to pick the Self kid up.β
βWhoβs Betsy Hughes?β
Steve shook his head. βI donβt know what kind of knockout drops the old boy gave you, but they sure worked. Betsyβs the operative we had minding Susan Self over in the Greater Washington Hilton. About an hour ago you got her on the phone, said your department wanted to question Susan, and that you were sending two men over to pick her up. The two men turned up with an order from you, and took the girl.β
Larry
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