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

Dr. Braun shrugged, located a hypodermic needle and prepared it. In a matter of moments, the animal was injected.

Ross Wooley said sourly, “Don’t you trust your fellow man, Don?”

“No, I don’t, and stop calling me Don. It’s Dan. Daniel Crowley.”

The three of them looked at him in bewilderment.

The ape was beginning to shimmer as though he was being seen through a window wet with driving rain.

“Don’s my goody-goody brother. Used to live in the same house with me, but ever since we were kids and I got picked up on a juvenile delinquent rap for swiping a car, he’s been snotty. Anyway, now he’s moved out to Frisco.”

Patricia blurted, “But⁠ ⁠… but you let us believe you were Donald.⁠ ⁠…”

He brushed it off with a flick of his hand. “You said you had some deal where I could make me some money. OK, I was between jobs.”

The ape was invisible now. Crowley peered in at him. “Seems to work, all right.”

Dr. Braun sighed. “I am not a Borgia, Daniel Crowley.”

“You’re not a what?”

“Never mind. I wouldn’t poison even you, if that is what you feared.”

Daniel Crowley took up the new container of serum and put a lid on it. He said, “I got to get going. The guy out in front will get you back to your rooms. No tricks with him, Buster”⁠—he was talking directly to Ross⁠—“he’s already beat a couple of homicide raps.”

Back in their cell-rooms, they found that there was but one guard. Evidently, the all-out robbery attempt to be held this night involved practically all of Larry Morazzoni’s forces. Beyond that, this guard did not seem particularly interested in keeping them from talking back and forth to each other through the peepholes that centered their doors.

After a couple of hours during which time they largely held silence, immersed in their own thoughts, Dr. Braun called out, “Patricia, Ross, I should tender my apologies. It was my less than brilliant idea to find the average man and use him as a guinea pig.”

“No apology necessary,” Patricia said impatiently. “We all went into it with open eyes.”

“But you were correct, Pat,” the doctor said unhappily. “Our common man turned out to be a Frankenstein monster.”

Ross growled, “That’s the trouble. It turned out he wasn’t our common man but his brother, whose petty criminal record evidently goes back to juvenile days.”

“Even that doesn’t matter,” Patricia said testily. “I’ve about come to the conclusion that it wouldn’t have made any difference who we’d put in Don’s⁠ ⁠… I mean Daniel Crowley’s position. Man is too near the animal, as yet at least, to be trusted with such power. Any man.”

“Why, Pat,” Dr. Braun said doggedly, “I don’t quite believe you correct. For instance, do you feel the same about me? Would I have reacted like our friend Dan?” He chuckled in deprecation.

“That’s my point,” she said. “I think you would⁠ ⁠… ultimately. Once again look at the Caesars, they held godlike power.”

“You’re thinking of such as Tiberius, Caligula, Nero, Commodus.⁠ ⁠…”

“I’m also thinking of such as Claudius, the scholar who was practically forced to take the Imperial mantle. And Marcus Aurelius, the philosopher who although bound up in learning himself allowed his family free rein in their vices and finally turned the Empire over to his son Commodus, one of the most vicious men of all time. But take Caligula and Nero if you will. Both of them stepped into power comparatively clean and with the best of prospects. Well approved, well loved. What happened to them when given power without restraint?”

Ross grumbled, “I admit I missed the boat, but not for the reasons Pat presents. In a sane society, our serum would be a valuable contribution. But in a dog eat dog world, where it’s each man for himself, then it becomes a criminal tool.”

Patricia said sarcastically, “And can you point out a sane society?”

Ross grunted. “No,” he said. After a moment he added, “You know, in a way Crowley was right. We three eggheads didn’t do so well up against what he called his common sense. I tried to slug him, with negative results. Dr. Braun, you tried sweet reason on him. Forgive me if I laugh. Pat, you tried your womanly wiles, but he saw through that, too.”

“The chickens have not all come home to roost,” Patricia said mysteriously. “What time is it?”

Ross told her.

She called to the guard, “See here, you.”

“Shut up. You ain’t supposed to be talking at all. Go to sleep.”

“I want to speak to Mr. Morazzoni. It’s very important and you are going to be dreadfully sorry if you don’t bring him.”

“Larry can’t be bothered. He’s getting ready to go on down to the city.”

“I know what he’s doing, but if he doesn’t listen to me, he’s going to be very unhappy and probably full of bullet holes.”

The guard came over to her door and stared at her for a long moment. He checked the lock on her door and then those of Dr. Braun and Ross Wooley. “We’ll see who’s going to be sorry,” he grunted. He turned and left.

When he returned it was with both Larry Morazzoni and Paul Teeter, Dan Crowley’s political adviser. Morazzoni growled, “What goes on? You squares looking for trouble?”

Patricia said testily, “I suggest you let us out of here, Mr. Morazzoni. If you do, we pledge not to press kidnapping charges against you. I believe you are aware of the penalty in this State.”

“You trying to be funny?”

“Definitely not, Mr. Morazzoni,” Patricia said icily. “Daniel Crowley bragged to us of your plans for tonight.”

The hoodlum muttered a contemptuous obscenity under his breath.

Paul Teeter, the heavyset southerner said jovially, “But what has this to do with releasing you, Miss O’Gara? Admittedly Dan is a bit indiscreet but.⁠ ⁠…” He let the sentence fade away.

“Yes,” Patricia said. “I realize that he is a nonprofessional in your ranks, and have little doubt that eventually you would have surmounted whatever precautions he has taken to keep you in underling positions. That’s beside the point. The point is that by this time Daniel