Robert Silverberg - The Planet Killers

That made at least two of the computer’s four new selections who weren’t perfecdy fitted for the job; and Gardner hadn’t even met the other two, yet.

It wasn’t a very good score.

Suppose, Gardner asked himself, suppose the computer’s accuracy in making long-range predictions was equally miserable?

Suppose the computer was all cockeyed about the anticipated Lurioni invasion of Earth?

Suppose he was actually murdering a world that meant no harm? Or that could be redeemed by less violent means?

Sudden perspiration popped out all over him. He shivered for one dreadful moment, and then, just as suddenly, he was past the conflict-point and secure in his belief.

Lurion was an abysmal world. It was a hateful, coldblooded, nasty place.

It was the sort of world on which you didn’t turn your back on anyone. And even then, rear-view vision was a useful precaution.

Unquestionably, the planet was beyond any redemption.

For the first time in an uncomfortably large number of days, Gardner was able to smile, confident that the computer was right, that he was right, and that the job he was doing was right.

And then he heard Lori Marks’ voice outside in the corridor, calling to him, and his newly-found complacency was shattered in an instant.

She knocked softly. “Roy? Roy, do you mind if I come in?”

“Just a minute, Lori. I’ll have to unseal the door.” Sweat started to course down Gardner’s body again. This was going to be the test of his resolve, coming up now. This was the first time she had ever come to his room.

He breathed on the doorseal and it curled into a ball. A moment later he was smiling at Lori, and she was smiling back.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you.”

“Not at all. I was just wondering if I ought to go down and find out if you were around.”

She was holding some typewritten sheets in her hand. Gardner glanced inquiringly at them. She held them forward and said, “I’ve been typing up my notes on that horrid dance we saw, and I’ve just finished. I wondered if you would care to check them through for accuracy.”

“Be happy to,” Gardner said. What else could he have told her?

But he could see easily that she hadn’t come up to his room simply for the purpose of letting him verify her anthropological observations. She was wearing a clinging, low-cut synthilk blouse that seemed more calculated toward a session of biology, not anthropology. There was something keenly expectant about her manner. And, for the first time since he had known her, she was wearing perfume. It was a subtle, musky flavor that had an alien scent about it.

He closed the door behind her. She made herself at home immediately, sitting down in the chair next to the bed. She looked around the room with evident interest, and flushed guiltily when Gardner let her know by a glance that he was watching her.

She said apologetically as she handed him the typed sheaf of notes, “I hope you won’t have too much trouble with the spelling. My machine is out of kilter, and I had to rent one of the local voice-writers. It’s good and efficient, but phonetically it’s a nightmare.”

“I’ll manage,” Gardner said.

The first page was headed, Notes Toward an Analysis of the Sadistic Element in Lurioni Entertainment Forms. Gardner skimme

This relationship had to be brought to a crux at once. She had made the overt gesture, with this flimsy and transparent maneuver to get inside his room. The display of cleavage, the dab of perfume—all these, he knew, were calculated to force him to a point of commitment toward her.

Well, the time had come to setde the matter. If he delayed any further, he would be knowingly jeopardizing the success of the mission.

By the time he had finished his cursory scanning of the notes, he had made up his mind. The break would have to be complete and absolute.

“Well?” she asked. “No comment?”

Jolted back to consideration of the notes, he smiled weakly and said, “Ah… hmm. Nice and accurate, I’d say.” His eyes leaped over the blocks of words and paragraphs, searching for something he could seize on and criticize. “I think it’s a bit lacking in real sparkle,” he went on. “You don’t fully convey the nastiness of the situation. Get me?”

She nodded. “I thought so too, when I read them back. Got any suggestions?”

“Focus it more sharply on the people watching, the thing. Not us, but the others, the Lurioni patrons, the ones busy empathizing with the dancers. There’s practically a psychic bond there. The killing, when it comes, is participated in vicariously by the whole audience. That’s the really nasty part of the business.”

“You’re right,” she said. “I’ll add that when I’m preparing my submission.”

Rising, she wandered around the room, and paused to peer curiously at the sonic generator, which Gardner had never bothered to hide, since the total effectiveness of a doorseal made furtiveness unnecessary.

“What’s this gadget?” she asked.

Gardner sucked in his breath sharply. “That’s… that’s a thing I use in testing jewels. It enables me to make sure they’re genuine.”

“Oh? Would you show me how it works?” she asked innocently. “I’d be terribly interested.”

Gardner’s face drooped. “It uses up a lot of power,” he said. “Anyway, it’s after working hours I’d just as soon not bother, unless you insist.”

She shrugged. “I guess it isn’t all that important, if it would mean a bother.”

“I’ll let you see how it works some other time,” Gardner said, relieved. It was not for a moment that he realized the grim double-meaning of his words.

But Lori had already lost interest in the sonic generator. She crossed the room and boldly sat down on the bed next to him.

Gardner no longer had any doubt. Her intention in coming up here was almost embarrassingly obvious. Gardner felt a fleeting sense of guilt about what he was going to do, but banished the sensation. There was to be no more guilt about this.

As she snuggled close to him he edged away, forcing himself to ignore her warmth and softness.

“Roy, don’t always keep running away from me,” she murmured.

Gardner moved away still further, then stood up and said in a brittle voice, “Would it be too melodramatic, Lori, if I said I had something very important to tell you?”

“No, of course not, Roy. Tell me anything you want.” Her eyes were half-closed and a little dreamy. Gardner took a deep breath.

“I’m married,” he said

It was a flat lie.

“I have a wife and family back on Terra,” he continued, “and it happens that I’m very devoted to them. And before our relation gets any more awkward than it’s already become, Lori, I feel you ought to know that I’m very much in love with my wife.”

The girl looked steamrollered. The blow had fallen on her with crushing impact. The dreaminess vanished-, from her eyes, to be replaced with a catlike look of insult and injury.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said softly. “For my sake, not yours.”

“I understand. If… if circumstances had been otherwise, Lori, well… maybe… you know what I’m trying to say. But as it is…”

Go on, he thought savagely, sound fumbling and shamefaced and sincere. If you’re going to lie to this kid, at least do a convincing job of it.

She stood up, facing him steadily, making the task easier for him. Impulsively, he gripped her hand tightly. He had never felt like such a heel in his life.

He told her, “I don’t think we ought to see each other any more. I’m only going to be on Lurion another week, and it would be easier for both of us.”