First Lensman E. E. Smith (superbooks4u txt) 📖

right then. She switched instantly to another track. “That double isn’t good enough to fool anybody who really knows me.”

“She doesn’t have to be.” The man grinned venomously. “Nobody who knows you will get close enough to her to tell the difference. This wasn’t done on the spur of the moment, Jill; it was planned⁠—minutely. You haven’t got the chance of the proverbial celluloid dog in hell.”

“Jill!” Jack Kinnison’s thought stabbed in. “It isn’t Rushton⁠—fourteen seventy-nine is a two-story. What other streets could it be?”

“I don’t know.⁠ ⁠…” She was not in very good shape to think.

“Damnation! Got to get hold of somebody who knows the streets. Spud, grab a hacker at the Circle and I’ll Lens Parker.⁠ ⁠…” Jack’s thought snapped off as he tuned to a local Lensman.

Jill’s heart sank. She was starkly certain now that the Lensmen could not find her in time.

“Tighten up a little, Eddie. You, too, Bob.”

“Stop it! Oh, God, stop it!” The unbearable agony relaxed a little. She watched in horrified fascination a second glowing coal approach her bare right side. “Even if I do talk you’ll kill me anyway. You couldn’t let me go now.”

“Kill you, my pet? Not if you behave yourself. We’ve got a lot of planets the Patrol never heard of, and you could keep a man interested for quite a while, if you really tried. And if you beg hard enough maybe I’ll let you try. However, I’d get just as much fun out of killing you as out of the other, so it’s up to you. Not sudden death, of course. Little things, at first, like we’ve been doing. A few more touches of warmth here and there⁠—so.⁠ ⁠…

“Scream as much as you please. I enjoy it, and this room is soundproof. Once more, boys, about half an inch higher this time⁠ ⁠… up⁠ ⁠… steady⁠ ⁠… down. We’ll have half an hour or so of this stuff”⁠—Herkimer knew that to the quivering, sensitive, highly imaginative girl his words would be practically as punishing as the atrocious actualities themselves⁠—“then I’ll do things to your fingernails and toenails, beginning with burning slivers of double-base flare powder and working up. Then your eyes⁠—or no, I’ll save them until last, so you can watch a couple of Venerian slasher-worms work on you, one on each leg, and a Martian digger on your bare belly.”

Gripping her hair firmly in his left hand, he forced her head back and down; down almost to her hard-held hands. His right hand, concealing something which he had not mentioned and which was probably starkly unmentionable, approached her taut-stretched throat.

“Talk or not, just as you please.” The voice was utterly callous, as chill as the death she now knew he was so willing to deal. “But listen. If you elect to talk, tell the truth. You won’t lie twice. I’ll count to ten. One.”

Jill uttered a gurgling, strangling noise and he lifted her head a trifle.

“Can you talk now?”

“Yes.”

“Two.”

Helpless, immobile, scared now to a depth of terror she had never imagined it possible to feel, Jill fought her wrenched and shaken mind back from insanity’s very edge; managed with a pale tongue to lick bloodless lips. Pops Kinnison always said a man could die only once, but he didn’t know⁠ ⁠… in battle, yes, perhaps⁠ ⁠… but she had already died a dozen times⁠—but she’d keep on dying forever before she’d say a word. But⁠—

“Tell him, Jill!” Northrop’s thought beat at her mind. He, her lover, was unashamedly frantic; as much with sheer rage as with sympathy for her physical and mental anguish. “For the nineteenth time I say tell him! We’ve just located you⁠—Hancock Avenue⁠—we’ll be there in two minutes!”

“Yes, Jill, quit being a damned stubborn jackass and tell him!” Jack Kinnison’s thought bit deep; but this time, strangely enough, the girl felt no repugnance at his touch. There was nothing whatever of the lover; nor of the brother, except of the fraternity of arms. She belonged. She would come out of this brawl right side up or none of them would. “Tell the goddam rat the truth!” Jack’s thought drove on. “It won’t make any difference⁠—he won’t live long enough to pass it on!”

“But I can’t⁠—I won’t!” Jill stormed. “Why, Pops Kinnison would.⁠ ⁠…”

“Not this time I wouldn’t, Jill!” Samms’ thought tried to come in, too, but the Port Admiral’s vehemence was overwhelming. “No harm⁠—he’s doing this strictly on his own⁠—if Morgan had had any idea he’d’ve killed him first. Start talking or I’ll spank you to a rosy blister!”

They were to laugh, later, at the incongruity of that threat, but it did produce results.

“Nine.” Herkimer grinned wolfishly, in sadistic anticipation.

“Stop it⁠—I’ll tell!” she screamed. “Stop it⁠—take that thing away⁠—I can’t stand it⁠—I’ll tell!” She burst into racking, tearing sobs.

“Steady.” Herkimer put something in his pocket, then slapped her so viciously that fingers-long marks sprang into red relief upon the chalk-white background of her cheek. “Don’t crack up; I haven’t started to work on you yet. What about that Lens?”

She gulped twice before she could speak. “It comes from⁠—ulp!⁠—Arisia. I haven’t got one myself, so I don’t know very much⁠—ulp!⁠—about it at first hand, but from what the boys tell me it must be.⁠ ⁠…”

Outside the building three black forms arrowed downward. Northrop and young Kinnison stopped at the sixth level; Costigan went on down to take care of the guards.

“Bullets, not beams,” the Irishman reminded his younger fellows. “We’ll have to clean up the mess without leaving a trace, so don’t do any more damage to the property than you absolutely have to.”

Neither made any reply; they were both too busy. The two thugs standing behind the steel chair, being armed openly, went first; then Jack put a bullet through Herkimer’s head. But Northrop was not content with that. He slid the pin to “full automatic” and ten more heavy slugs tore into the falling body before it struck the floor.

Three quick slashes and the girl was free.

“Jill!”

“Mase!”

Locked in each other’s arms, straining together, no bystander would have believed that this was their