Mack Reynolds: Ability Quotient

It was Kneedler’s turn to stand. He shook his head at the general.

“No. I, at least, am convinced that Professor Katz is correct. And I’ll make every effort, though my group, to support him. And every effort to hinder anything you attempt, General Paul.”

For once, there was expression on the general’s face. It was fury.

He snapped, “Captain!”

In a flow of motion, there was a laser pistol in Jim Hawkin’s hand and its beam reached out. Assistant Professor Kenneth Kneedler crumbled forward to the floor.

Bert yelled, “Jim!”

The other directed the pistol at Bert Alshuler. Jim said, “Easy, old buddy. There’ve been some changes.” Bert Alshuler’s face was sick. “What was it? Jill?” Jim grinned at him. “That was just part of it, old buddy. I’ve been fed up for a long time with playing second fiddle to a chump like you and being told to shut up. When the general gave me the chance of taking over your position in the project, I figured at long last my licks had arrived.”

Bert Alshuler had come to an abrupt halt in his pacing, but his hands were still jammed into his jacket pockets. He brought them forth now, after palming the brown pill. He ran his right hand over his mouth, in his characteristic gesture.

The general said to Katz and Marsh, “Captain Hawkins will take over Caine’s position. Meanwhile, you two are under arrest.”

Marsh said, “Confound it, I refuse to cooperate with you. I shall make every effort to see you murderers prosecuted.”

The general snorted contempt of that. “No. You would be surprised at some of the means we have today in the way of truth serums and other devices to force the, uh, recalcitrants to our way of thinking. Keep them covered, Captain Hawkins. I’ll summon some of my people.”

He started toward the phone screen, walking, so it seemed to Bert Alshuler, so slowly as though plowing through a lake of molasses.

The general said, slowly, slowly, “We… were… about… ready… for… our… coup de tat … anyway.”

Bert Alshuler blurred into movement. He flung forward at Jim Hawkins.

The other had no time to react. His trigger finger began to tighten, but far too late. With a sweep, Bert had jerked the laser pistol from his hand and jumped backward.

The general was grabbing for his sidearm.

Bert, speaking ever so slowly, at least to his own ears, said, “Don’t try it, General.” And again, “Leave that gun alone, Bugs!”

But the other was deaf in his rage. Seemingly, to Bert’s eyes, he slowly, slowly, slowly brought forth his gyro-jet sidearm from its holster, and slowly, slowly brought it up.

Bert Alshuler shot him.

He dipped his left hand into his pocket and brought forth the green pill and took it down. He said, “Everybody stay where they are. I’ll be normal in a moment.” Then, realizing that it had probably come out so fast as to be meaningless to Katz, Marsh and Jim Hawkins, he repeated it slowly.

When the green pill had taken effect, Bert looked at Jim Hawkins.

He said, “For a long time I’ve owed you a life, Jim. You saved mine eleven times in that machine gun nest, I saved yours ten. Kay. This evens us up. Get going, Jim.”

Jim Hawkins snapped, “I’ll get you for this eventually, Killer.”

“No you won’t, Jim. You’re on the run. There’s a police helio-jet up above us. I’m going to call it in, in a few minutes, and turn these laser pistols over to them. Your fingerprints will be on the power pack in yours. I’ll wipe mine clean. We three remaining here will testify that you shot both Kneedler and the general I’ll testify that you killed the four students who were in Kneedler’s group.”

“Yeah? Well, Jill witnessed that it was you who killed those four.”

“Jill will be my witness, not yours, Jim. You’d better get going. You’re on the run, Jim. I suggest you try and get out of the country. You don’t kill a general of Security and get away with it. I doubt if his men will even allow you to give yourself up. They’ll cut you down, Jim.”

When the other was gone, hurrying, Bert Alshuler turned to the two professors who were rooted in their chairs, eyes goggling at the developments of the last few minutes.

Bert snapped, “Quick now. You heard what the general said about a coup d’etat . Is there anything you can do about it, preferably before the word gets back to his group that he’s dead?”

Professor Katz shook his head for clarity. “Yes. Actually, the clique he was connected with isn’t as numerous as all that. Paul was a liaison man between our organization and the government. We already knew he wasn’t to be trusted and we were taking measures to have him thwarted. I’ll handle it.”

Bert went over to the screen phone to call Frank Harmon, the Security agent. Jim had a head start, he told himself, still sick inside. He’d probably make it out of the country.

But he hesitated and turned and looked at Katz, scowling. “You seem to have the impression that Jill Masterson and I will get married and have children and the implication is that every other one of these man and woman teams at all the various universities will do the same. How can you be so sure? How do you know Jill will have me?”

Katz smiled complacently. “How could we ever operate in this day and age without the computer?” he said. “They report that if you and Miss Masterson are put in contact with each other, that the chance is forty-nine out of fifty that you will fall in love.”

Albert and Jill Alshuler stood at the side of the crib and stared down. The baby was the most average looking baby ever.

“Hello,” Bert said to it, touching the infinitely tiny toes with a forefinger. “Hello, little superman.”

“One week old,” Jill said. “It seems so tiny to be anything but the most normal of children.”

“Ummm.” He cocked his head slightly. “Do you think that Katz and Marsh are off their courses on all this?”

She looked up into his face. “You know, darling, I truly hope that they are. Then we’d have the same type little one as anyone else.”

The little one in question looked up at them, gurgled and said, “Hello.”