None But Lucifer

Chapter XVII

Banner shook his head. "I don't understand what you're driving at, son. Either you've got a terrific grudge against the government, or you're getting kind of hysterical, the way you've been acting up. That's why I came up here to your place."

Hale looked at his cigarette and said nothing. To an outsider he must have seemed rather jittery, making impassioned speeches at all the businessmen's associations that he could get entrance to, haranguing them to get together in opposing fortifications and rearmament, to send telegrams to Washington, to demand action from newspapers.

"Tell me what it is, Bill," Banner pleaded, his voice paternally troubled. "None of us like the idea of spending billions on arms, but you don't see us acting like nuts."

"Daddy!" Gloria protested.

"Well, maybe that is putting it a little strongly. But you haven't been acting like a normal human being. This rearmament business can't mean all that to you." he hesitated; then, craftily: "Unless you've got some deal up your sleeve and won't tell your father-in-law."

"I just don't like it," muttered Hale evasively.

"Oh, cut it out! I'm not a kid. You don't just not like a thing and spend all your time making speeches against it to anyone who'll listen. What's your angle? If you don't want to tell me, say so." He added unconvincingly, "I don't mind."

When he saw that no explanation was coming, Banner turned to Gloria. "Mind getting my pipe and pouch? They're in my topcoat."

Hale and Gloria both started and went pale. She glanced appealingly at him as she half rose uncertainly out of her chair.

"I'll go with you, Gloria!" Hale cried, unconsciously loud. "I left something in my coat pocket, too."

The color came back to her face. They left the room together. The longer they were married, it seemed to Hale, the more confining the spell became. Neither spoke until they returned. Banner complained: "I don't know what's got into you, Bill. Gloria could have brought whatever you left in your coat. Don't you two see enough of each other all day?"

Gloria collapsed into a chair, and Hale clenched his jaws to keep from shouting.

Hale lay awake, staring at the shaded bulb and hating himself. The faint light didn't disturb him; on the contrary, it gave him a sense of security. Had either of them awakened and found it too dark to see the other, there would have been a small panic until the light could be clicked on.

If he could only make a break — run away, kill himself or her, anything! But that, of course, was impossible. Being away from her was worse than death; and anyhow they were immortal.

Immortal! Lord, no, he prayed, let it not be that; not living in hopeless, dismal proximity forever and ever, until the end of time!

His cruelty to her was cowardice; he lacked the courage to assume responsibility for his own incompetence. From then on, he swore, he would be gentle and considerate with her, to ease the suffering he had caused her.

But he knew he wouldn't because he couldn't. As long as he allowed himself to brood and writhe, it was natural that he should ignore her presence when he could, lash out at her when he was irritated, and perhaps even strike her. He would torture himself by tormenting her, but he would make her suffer more, so that he would feel better by contrast.

He cursed himself for thinking such thoughts. But when he crushed that obsession back into his subconsciousness, another rose to torment him. What was the point in being Lucifer's partner, if he couldn't learn to use his power? He was faced with a problem that, he knew, Johnson considered pitifully simple. Oppose Pacific island fortification.

Yeah? How. Go ahead and oppose. He had tried as hard as he could, and was getting nowhere, because he didn't know how to use Johnson's methods of moving the right pawn and waiting with perfect and justified confidence for the results. Of course, he could buy up all the newspapers in the country. That ought to work.

But there was Johnson's fat face grinning sardonically at him. "I wouldn't have to spend a cent," he taunted. "I'd just make a telephone call. See? Not even two calls."

"Damn you!" Hale's mind screamed. "I'm not licked yet, you soft white devil! I'll find a way!"

"Yeah?" Johnson smirked. "How?"

"I'll make a telephone call."

One telephone call — but to whom? Hale didn't know. He had proved himself a failure. He couldn't make a simple telephone call.