The Destroyer 055 - Master's Challenge by Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir

Author:Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir [Murphy, Warren & Sapir, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Pulp Action
Publisher: PINNACLE BOOKS
Published: 2010-03-19T14:52:31.657000+00:00

Chapter Twelve

He called her Mil­dred and she called him Har­ry. He told her he would take care of all her calls. She told him some she would rather do her­self. He said ev­ery mo­ment she wast­ed do­ing me­nial chores, grass died on this earth. Maybe by the mil­lions of blades.

Mil­dred Pen­soitte thought that was very per­cep­tive, but she still felt more ef­fec­tive do­ing some things her­self. She felt she nev­er want­ed to lose her sense of hu­man­ity by del­egat­ing ev­ery­thing to oth­ers. She should nev­er for­get, she said, that she was just part of the whole earth. She didn’t want to be like those ru­in­ing the world. If dear, dear Har­ry could un­der­stand this, her pow­er came from un­der­stand­ing her place on the earth, in the earth and of it. And the minute she lost that sense and re­al­iza­tion, they were all lost.

Harold W. Smith nod­ded and said somber­ly that he un­der­stood. Then he bribed the switch­board op­er­ator to let him lis­ten in on all Dr. Pen­soitte’s calls. He list­ed in on a call from Leeds, Eng­land, her moth­er men­tion­ing that she had seen Mil­dred’s for­mer hus­band the oth­er day. A love­ly man.

“Any­thing else, Moth­er?” asked Dr. Pen­soitte.

“We saw you on the tel­ly.”

“Which speech? The one for the new world or­der or the one on how we are poi­son­ing our­selves?”

“One of them, dear. You were wear­ing that full blouse again. Do you re­al­ly think that they do that much for you?”

It all might have been fun­ny, Smith thought, if he hadn’t seen a cham­ber­maid with her throat opened to the air. That would be just the first death of many if these peo­ple were al­lowed to grow. Be­cause to save the world from man, they would have to kill men, many of them, and keep killing un­til ev­ery­one left agreed with their vi­sion.

Hitler had had his su­pe­ri­or race; these peo­ple had their su­pe­ri­or moral­ity. Smith had to tell him­self this while lis­ten­ing to Mil­dred talk to her moth­er, be­cause she was so very beau­ti­ful. And she had the sort of el­egant charm few wom­en could man­ifest. It didn’t come with smooth lit­tle-​girl faces or un­wrin­kled bod­ies. It had to be tem­pered with time and will and the force of the per­son com­ing through, with the ba­by-​fat of the soul re­moved.

Lat­er that night, Smith checked his com­put­ers and found that the killer group had moved. It had been in Vir­ginia and then North Car­oli­na, and now the com­put­er read: “Sus­pect pen­etra­tion, St. Mar­tin’s, French An­tilles. Hold tar­get un­til pen­etra­tion source iden­ti­fied.”

The mes­sage gave Smith a chill, be­cause it was a mes­sage that had been cap­tured from the would-​be pres­iden­tial as­sas­sins. It showed that they knew their op­er­ation was be­ing mon­itored by com­put­ers on St. Mar­tin’s. And that was where CURE’s back­up com­put­ers had been placed by Smith.

The killer or­ga­ni­za­tion was ob­vi­ous­ly com­put­er-​run to have been able to learn that. And Mil­dred Pen­soitte’s or­ga­ni­za­tion hadn’t even had a com­put­er un­til he had in­tro­duced one to help make the very wealthy Earth Good­ness, Inc.

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