Eric Russell: Three to Conquer

With sweating hand on the car’s door, he stood and listened again, seeking it directively. There it came. It was not alien; it had only seemed to be so because new and strange, like nothing previously encountered. It had power and clarity as different from other thought-streams as champagne differs from water.

He probed at it and immediately it came back with shock equal to his own. Getting into his car, he sat there shakily. His mind fizzed with excitement and there were butterflies in his stomach while he remained staring through the windshield and apparently daydreaming. Finally, he drove to a large restaurant, ordered dinner.

She had a table to herself, at the opposite end of the room. A strawberry blonde, small, plump, in her middle thirties. Her face was pleasantly freckled and she had a tiptilted nose. At no time did she glance his way; neither did he pay any attention to her when he departed.

After that they met frequently, without ever coming near each other or exchanging one vocal word. Sometimes he ate in one place while she sipped coffee in another half a mile away. Other times he mused absently in the office while she became thoughtful in a distant store. They took in the same show, he in one part of the theatre and she in another, and neither saw much of the performance.

They were waiting, waiting for circumstances to change with enough naturalness and inevitability to fool the watchers. The opportunity was coming; they both knew that. Moira was wearing a diamond ring.

In due course, Moira departed with congratulations and a wedding gift. Twenty girls answered the call for her successor. Harper interviewed them all, according each one the same courtesy, putting the same questions, displaying no visible favoritism one way or the other.

He chose Frances, a strawberry blonde with a plump figure and pert nose.

Ten days later Norris arrived on his periodic visit, looked over the newcomer, favored her with a pleasant smile, mentally defined her as nice and nothing more. He started the chitchat while Harper listened and gazed dreamily at a point behind the other’s back.

“For the fiftieth time, will you marry me?”

“For the fiftieth time, yes. But you must be patient. We’ll fall into it gradually.”

“So this fellow showed the manager a bunch of documents certifying him to be a bank examiner from head office,” droned Norris. “The manager fell for it, and—” He paused, added in louder tones, “Hey! Are you paying attention?”

“Of course. Carry on. I can hardly wait for the climax.”

“I don’t want to be patient. I don’t want to be gradual. I want to fall into it fast.”

“You know better than that. We must be careful.”

“I want children just like us.”

“Wait!”

She slipped paper into her typewriter, adjusted it, pink-faced and smiling,

“That was his downfall,” finished Norris, completely innocent of the byplay. “So he tied himself up for life.”

“Don’t we all?” said Harper, hiding his bliss.

Three to Conquer

by

ERIC FRANK RUSSELL

ACE BOOKS

A Division of A. A. Wyn, Inc.

23 West 47th Street, New York 36, N. Y.

Three To Conquer

Copyright, 1956, by Eric Frank Russell

An Ace Book, by arrangement with Bouregy & Curl, Inc.

Copyright, 1955, by Street & Smith, Inc., for Astounding Science Fiction.

Printed in U. S. A.