Read Online Children of Tomorrow by A. E. van Vogt - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: A. E. van Vogt
Tags: SF
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to be unimportant.
He looked up. ‘Mr Scott.’
Yes, Commander.’
‘This man, Captain Peter Sennes - I want you to locate him for me. Have him here in my office - let me see.’ He stroked his jaw, and mused out loud, ‘Yesterday, the debriefing committee adjourned for lunch a 12:30 - so ask him to be here at one. Tell him that I intend to invite him to my home for dinner tonight or tomorrow, whichever is more suitable for him. Will you do that?’ 'Of course, sir.’
"And Mr Scott’
‘ Yes, sir.’
'Cali ray wife, and tell her that I may have a guest for dinner tonight or tomorrow. Will you do that?’
‘Naturally, sir.’
As Scott turned away, the intercom buzzer sounded. The plump man walked over quickly, and pressed the button. ‘Commander Lane’s office,’ he said.
A voice said, ‘The President’s Space Committee is ready to resume its debriefing of Commander Lane. Will you have him step over as soon as possible. 5
‘I’ll need a guide,’ said Lane to Scott. He spoke quickly.
I’ll show him the way, personally,’ said Scott into the intercom. He glanced at Lane. ‘When, sir?’
‘Right now,’ Lane replied.
’We’ll be there in two minutes,’ Scott said into the instrument.
He broke the connection, and motioned toward the hall door. 'After you, Commander.’
They went out into the hallway, Scott opening and then closing the door.
Silence settled over the room after they had gone, except for the faint, faint sound that energy makes in machinery that is always at ‘on’.
On the giant viewplate, the stars continued to shift positions slightly, as the superbattleship that was out there (and from which file star scene was being broadcast) continued in its orbit around the earth.
From that screen, a voice said suddenly: Tosition now 116-27 angle 52, and all is well,
Midnight came and passed. Then one a.m. ., . and later. On the king-sized bed in the master bedroom of the Lane residence, there was a movement in the darkness. The figure on the far right stirred. Another pause. Then the light over there turned on. It revealed Estelle Lane sitting up.
On his side of the bed, Lane turned over sleepily, opened his eyes, and looked at his wife questioningly. As he saw that she was staring at him accusingly, he also sat up, and said, 'What’ ’ the matter?’
‘It’s a quarter to two,’ said the woman in an irritable voice. ‘Captain Sennes should have brought Susan home by this time.’ Lane gave her a for-heaven’s-sake-is-that-what-you-awakened- me-for glare. He started to slide back under the sheets, except that the expression in her face made him think better of it. He remained seated, and he said in a mild, reassuring tone, ‘They’re probably having a bite to eat after the show.’
It was obviously not a sufficient comment for the woman, that he changed his tactics. He sat all the way up, and said irritably, “What’s the worry about Captain Sennes when you’re never concerned about her being out with that gang of young rascals she runs around with?’
‘This is a man,’ said Estelle.
Lane was scathing. ‘You’ve got it all mixed up,’ he said. “When I was sixteen, about 20 per cent of high school boys got to about 80 per cent of the girls, starting at age fourteen. The other boys were mostly nice, decent kids. Some of them, I know, hoped vaguely that a girl would proposition them, but you and I know that isn’t the way it works. Now, here’s my point. You can’t tell me those 20 per cent of aggressive boys aren’t still around, and that 80 per cent girls aren’t still vulnerable to them.’
‘Men are different,’ said Estelle, with determination.
‘Men are more discriminating, you mean. The average halfway decent man has learned not to grab at every available woman. It’s too hard to shake them loose, once you’ve got them. And most men discover that early in the romantic part of their life.’ 'You seem to know a lot about it,’ said Estelle;
He looked up. ‘Mr Scott.’
Yes, Commander.’
‘This man, Captain Peter Sennes - I want you to locate him for me. Have him here in my office - let me see.’ He stroked his jaw, and mused out loud, ‘Yesterday, the debriefing committee adjourned for lunch a 12:30 - so ask him to be here at one. Tell him that I intend to invite him to my home for dinner tonight or tomorrow, whichever is more suitable for him. Will you do that?’ 'Of course, sir.’
"And Mr Scott’
‘ Yes, sir.’
'Cali ray wife, and tell her that I may have a guest for dinner tonight or tomorrow. Will you do that?’
‘Naturally, sir.’
As Scott turned away, the intercom buzzer sounded. The plump man walked over quickly, and pressed the button. ‘Commander Lane’s office,’ he said.
A voice said, ‘The President’s Space Committee is ready to resume its debriefing of Commander Lane. Will you have him step over as soon as possible. 5
‘I’ll need a guide,’ said Lane to Scott. He spoke quickly.
I’ll show him the way, personally,’ said Scott into the intercom. He glanced at Lane. ‘When, sir?’
‘Right now,’ Lane replied.
’We’ll be there in two minutes,’ Scott said into the instrument.
He broke the connection, and motioned toward the hall door. 'After you, Commander.’
They went out into the hallway, Scott opening and then closing the door.
Silence settled over the room after they had gone, except for the faint, faint sound that energy makes in machinery that is always at ‘on’.
On the giant viewplate, the stars continued to shift positions slightly, as the superbattleship that was out there (and from which file star scene was being broadcast) continued in its orbit around the earth.
From that screen, a voice said suddenly: Tosition now 116-27 angle 52, and all is well,
Midnight came and passed. Then one a.m. ., . and later. On the king-sized bed in the master bedroom of the Lane residence, there was a movement in the darkness. The figure on the far right stirred. Another pause. Then the light over there turned on. It revealed Estelle Lane sitting up.
On his side of the bed, Lane turned over sleepily, opened his eyes, and looked at his wife questioningly. As he saw that she was staring at him accusingly, he also sat up, and said, 'What’ ’ the matter?’
‘It’s a quarter to two,’ said the woman in an irritable voice. ‘Captain Sennes should have brought Susan home by this time.’ Lane gave her a for-heaven’s-sake-is-that-what-you-awakened- me-for glare. He started to slide back under the sheets, except that the expression in her face made him think better of it. He remained seated, and he said in a mild, reassuring tone, ‘They’re probably having a bite to eat after the show.’
It was obviously not a sufficient comment for the woman, that he changed his tactics. He sat all the way up, and said irritably, “What’s the worry about Captain Sennes when you’re never concerned about her being out with that gang of young rascals she runs around with?’
‘This is a man,’ said Estelle.
Lane was scathing. ‘You’ve got it all mixed up,’ he said. “When I was sixteen, about 20 per cent of high school boys got to about 80 per cent of the girls, starting at age fourteen. The other boys were mostly nice, decent kids. Some of them, I know, hoped vaguely that a girl would proposition them, but you and I know that isn’t the way it works. Now, here’s my point. You can’t tell me those 20 per cent of aggressive boys aren’t still around, and that 80 per cent girls aren’t still vulnerable to them.’
‘Men are different,’ said Estelle, with determination.
‘Men are more discriminating, you mean. The average halfway decent man has learned not to grab at every available woman. It’s too hard to shake them loose, once you’ve got them. And most men discover that early in the romantic part of their life.’ 'You seem to know a lot about it,’ said Estelle;
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