Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
DEEPFREEZE
By
Robert Donald Locke
Life and the future belong to the strong—so Dollard laughedas he fled Earth and Mankind's death agony. But the lastlaugh was yet to come....
dwin Dollard's nervous stubby fingers spilled three precious drops ofhis fifth Scotch highball, as he veered his head away from the horrorson the telescreen. He was in time to observe Garth enter by thepaneled tunnel door.
"Two more hours—and the ship will be ready," Garth announced. "Themen still know nothing." His thin lips cracked into a forced smile. "Islipped them the poison at noon mess. There'll be no tales out ofthose greaseballs."
Dollard's pudgy features relaxed. "Just you and I, Garth ... tosurvive. The others—stupid sheep—let them die!" Lust spread hisheavy cheeks into a wide grin. "As for women, there'll be time enoughfor them ... on Venus."
"I know," said Garth slowly. "Plague-untouched women. It'll be likebeing reborn again." His pained somber eyes lit up. "It's right goodwe understand each other...."
"Just see that we continue understanding one another," Edwin Dollardsnapped. "I'm still the boss."
The last of America's industrial tycoons refocussed his attention onthe world telecasts. Since breakfast, he had sat glued to the newswhile a battery of video announcers reported from central strongholdson the progress of the bacterial epidemic that already had swept theAtlantic seaboard.
"Any late news?" Garth asked, over Dollard's shoulder.
"For your information, I picked up a flash from Denver. Just beforeyou came in—"
"Bad, eh?"
"You said it, Garth. A thousand new cases. Some think the Asiatics gotanother two or three missiles through the Canadian radar barrier. Morelikely, the germs hitch-hiked westward on human carriers, gangs ofthem streaming out of the eastern states. The mobs are like vermin;you can't hold 'em back. They sneak through the quarantine at ahundred points."
"They're people, aren't they?" said Garth, quietly.
"People? They're no more people than the loutish mechs you just didaway with today."
"Under your orders," Garth pointed out.
"But it had to be done. Let's not be squeamish children—"
"Yes, so it did. You're safe enough."
"You and I both," Dollard completed. "As long as we're together, we'reboth safe...."
Dollard gripped his hands together and glanced nervously about thetimbered walls of his High Sierra lodge, as if to assure himself thatthis carefully guarded retreat would protect him from the grislycrawling death that was demolishing his invincible country. Even inthe presence of his most trusted hireling, Garth, who had beenexecutive officer of Dollard's vast combine, the millionaire wasashamed to admit how the report from Colorado—which claimed theenemy-seeded plague had already crossed the broad prairie