Short Fiction by Fritz Leiber (top romance novels .TXT) 📕

failed to recognize his genius. Besides, you’ve seen the girl, haven’t you?”

Jack had to nod. What confounded him most was that, granting the near-impossible physiological feat Mrs. Kesserich had described, the girl should look so much like the mother. Mothers and daughters don’t look that much alike; only identical twins did. With a thrill of fear, he remembered Kesserich’s casual words: “… parthenogenesis⁠ ⁠… pure stock⁠ ⁠… special techniques⁠ ⁠…”

“Very well,” he forced himself to say, “granting that the child was Mary’s and Martin’s⁠—”

“No! Mary’s alone!”

Jack suppressed a shudder. He continued quickly, “What became of the child?”

Mrs. Kesserich lowered her head. “The day it was born, it was taken away from me. After that, I never saw Hilda and Hani, either.”

“You mean,” Jack asked, “that Martin sent them away to bring up the child?”

Mrs. Kesserich turned away. “Yes.”

Jack asked incredulously, “He trusted the child with the two people he suspected of having caused the mother’s death?”

“Once when I was his assistant,” Mrs. Kesserich said softly, “I carelessly broke some laboratory glassware. He kept me up all night building a new setup, though I’m rather poor at working with glass and usually get burned. Bringing up the child was his sisters’ punishment.”

“And they went to that house on the farthest island? I suppose it was the house he’d been building for Mary and himself.”

“Yes.”

“And they were to bring up the child as his daughter?”

Mrs. Kesserich started up, but when she spoke it was as if she had to force out each word. “As his wife⁠—as soon as she was grown.”

“How can you know that?” Jack asked shakily.

The rising wind rattled the windowpane.

“Because today⁠—eighteen years after⁠—Martin broke all of his promise to me. He told me he was leaving me.”

VI

White waves shooting up like dancing ghosts in the Moon-sketched, spray-swept dark were Jack’s first beacon of the island and brought a sense of physical danger, breaking the trancelike yet frantic mood he had felt ever since he had spoken with Mrs. Kesserich.

Coming around farther into the wind, he scudded past the end of the island into the choppy sea on the landward side. A little later he let down the reefed sail in the cove of the sea urchins, where the water was barely moving, although the air was shaken by the pounding of the surf on the spine between the two islands.

After making fast, he paused a moment for a scrap of cloud to pass the moon. The thought of the spiny creatures in the black fathoms under the Annie O. sent an odd quiver of terror through him.

The Moon came out and he started across the glistening rocks of the spine. But he had forgotten the rising tide. Midway, a wave clamped around his ankles, tried to carry him off, almost made him drop the heavy object he was carrying. Sprawling and drenched, he clung to the rough rock until the surge was past.

Making it finally up to the fence, he snipped a wide gate with the wire-cutters.

The windows of the house were alight. Hardly aware of his shivering, he crossed the lawn, slipping from one clump of shrubbery to another, until he reached one just across the drive from the doorway. At that moment he heard the approaching chuff of the Essex, the door of the cottage opened, and Mary Alice Pope stepped out, closely followed by Hani or Hilda.

Jack shrank close to the shrubbery. Mary looked pale and blank-faced, as if she had retreated within herself. He was acutely conscious of the inadequacy of his screen as the ghostly headlights of the Essex began to probe through the leaves.

But then he sensed that something more was about to happen than just the car arriving. It was a change in the expression of the face behind Mary that gave him the cue⁠—a widening and sidewise flickering of the cold eyes, the puckered lips thinning into a cruel smile.

The Essex shifted into second and, without any warning, accelerated. Simultaneously, the woman behind Mary gave her a violent shove. But at almost exactly the same instant, Jack ran. He caught Mary as she sprawled toward the gravel, and lunged ahead without checking. The Essex bore down upon them, a square-snouted, roaring monster. It swerved viciously, missed them by inches, threw up gravel in a skid, and rocked to a stop, stalled.

The first, incredulous voice that broke the pulsing silence, Jack recognized as Martin Kesserich’s. It came from the car, which was slewed around so that it almost faced Jack and Mary.

“Hani, you tried to kill her! You and Hilda tried to kill her again!”

The woman slumped over the wheel slowly lifted her head. In the indistinct light, she looked the twin of the woman behind Jack and Mary.

“Did you really think we wouldn’t?” she asked in a voice that spat with passion. “Did you actually believe that Hilda and I would serve this eighteen years’ penance just to watch you go off with her?” She began to laugh wildly. “You’ve never understood your sisters at all!”

Suddenly she broke off, stiffly stepped down from the car. Lifting her skirts a little, she strode past Jack and Mary.

Martin Kesserich followed her. In passing, he said, “Thanks, Barr.” It occurred to Jack that Kesserich made no more question of his appearance on the island than of his presence in the laboratory. Like Mrs. Kesserich, the great biologist took him for granted.

Kesserich stopped a few feet short of Hani and Hilda. Without shrinking from him, the sisters drew closer together. They looked like two gaunt hawks.

“But you waited eighteen years,” he said. “You could have killed her at any time, yet you chose to throw away so much of your lives just to have this moment.”

“How do you know we didn’t like waiting eighteen years?” Hani answered him. “Why shouldn’t we want to make as strong an impression on you as anyone? And as for throwing our lives away, that was your doing. Oh, Martin, you’ll never know anything about how your sisters feel!”

He raised his hands baffledly. “Even assuming that