Specimens by Fred Saberhagen

Author:Fred Saberhagen
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, pdf
Published: 2013-01-25T16:00:00+00:00

NINE

When it let go of Dan again he went straight to the kitchen cabinet in which he kept his small supply of booze. If memory served him right, there should be a fifth of bourbon on the shelf, still about half full. His memory was correct. But no sooner had his arm brought the bottle out than it was stopped by the puppet-strings. The bottle was moved up carefully before his face, and his eyes were made to scrutinize the label thoroughly. "I tell you you'd better let me have this," he muttered savagely to his unseen master. "Better let me have it, if you want me to keep functioning at all." After it had studied the label, and used his nose to sniff the contents, it turned him loose. At once he reached for a shot glass and poured himself a drink and downed it, neat. Ordinarily he never could have taken whisky that way, but right now it tasted like so much tea.

Fighting back an urge for the cigarettes that he had given up five years earlier, Dan brought the bottle and glass along and went to sit at the kitchen table. On the table still lay the pencil and pad of paper that had been used in the morning's seance.

"All right," he said quietly, looking down at his hands folded before him. "So you want me to keep functioning, for a while at least. That means you want me to help you in some way." He took up the bottle and slowly poured himself another shot. No, only half a shot this time. "Somewhere along the line, in whatever you're planning next, you're going to want my willing co-operation. Or at least things will be easier for you if I can be brought to co-operate. Right?" No answer. He looked at his hand and at the waiting paper, but nothing happened. Dan took a sip from his glass, and sloshed the liquor around inside his cheeks like mouth wash. "There is something I need, too. Maybe we can trade." He paused. "I want my children back, alive and—essentially unharmed. For that I'll be willing to cooperate. I'll help you get other people to replace them, if that's what you want."

He drank again. He wondered now, with sudden understanding, how often the enemy might have heard this same speech. From Clareson, from Schwartz, the one the farm boys said was crazy. No doubt there had been others. His right thumb gave a little preliminary twitch, and then his hand took the pencil up. It lettered, OFFER TENTATIVELY ACCEPTED. WE WILL NEGOTIATE. His reply was quick: "First, how do I know you can deliver? How do I know they're not already dead down there?"

IF THEIR VIABILITY CAN BE DEMONSTRATED, ARE YOU THEN WILLING TO HELP ME COLLECT MORE SPECIMENS?

"Yes. Yes." He would promise it anything, and at the same time allow himself no shred of comforting belief in anything it promised him. Clareson and Schwartz and their families, how

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