The Seed of Evil

I waited for all the guests to leave before I put the idea to Janet. She twisted her handkerchief in a distraught manner.

“It’s too much,” she said shortly. “We can’t spare the money.”

“But he’s my brother.”

Crossly she patted her hair back into place. “That lump of rock—can’t you find some other way of getting rid of it? Throw it in the sea or something? As a matter of fact I’ve been meaning to get the thing out of the house.”

She stood up, smoothed her skirt and bent to study her make-up in the mirror. I stared at her aghast.

“Janet,” I began as she touched her eyebrow with a wetted finger, “he wants to talk to you.”

“You won’t catch me going up there!”

“It isn’t much to ask,” I pleaded. “He’s a person, Janet, someone you once … had relations with. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? He only wants to say good-bye, so there’s no bitterness.”

She turned on her stiletto heel and stalked from the room. Before I knew it I was on my feet too, following after her and arguing.

Don’t ask me to explain the state I was in. Nothing seemed more important to me than that I carried out what I was convinced was my brother Jack’s last request. For an hour I talked earnestly in our bedroom. Janet seemed to grow more weary by the minute.

At last I said: “He’s still alive. Don’t you understand?”

And that, of course, was exactly what she never had understood. Perhaps, I thought, people never are alive to her.

“What is it to do with me?” she complained, ready to burst into tears.

Then, resigned and tired, Janet dragged herself to her feet and came with me to the back part of the house.

I sensed how scared she was as we ascended the stairs, and kept my hand touching her arm. Poor kid, I thought. Then I opened the door and led her into the musty, humming attic.

She gazed around her, frightened by the alienness of everything she saw. She was completely out of her depth.

“Jack,” I said, “here’s Janet.”

There was a barely perceptible pause.

Then a voice came hoarsely through the speaker which shook even me by the intensity of its hatred and bitterness. “You finally arrived, you filthy slut, did you?” it said. “How bloody nice!”

It seemed to gather its breath, then vomited a paralysing stream of obscenity and execration. Through it all I seemed to hear the resentment, the disappointment, which Jack had harboured all this time. I realised that everything Janet meant to me, she must have meant to him. She had filled the void of his life, just as she had filled mine. And that was why Jack wanted to speak to Janet.

He never gives up. If he can’t have it one way, he’ll have it the other.

Janet let out a small, terrified cry, turned and fled. I heard her sharp heels clattering, on the stairs.

“Why did you do that?” I exploded.

“Just to give her a few nightmares,” he answered sardonically. “By the way, I’ve a confession to make. You know everything I said about taking Janet away from you? It wasn’t even true!”

That was all I got out of him. I stood there, absolutely stunned. I had never taxed Janet about her defection; I was afraid of appearing jealous.

Now that Jack had made his confession, I suddenly realised how utterly ridiculous was the notion that Janet would ever have had an affair with him, or even, at that stage, been unfaithful to me at all. She just wasn’t that sort.

And yet I had believed it. Jack had gauged exactly what would take place in my mind, even to the years-long silence. In his crooked way he had a real genius for it.

In those few seconds the full tragedy of Jack became clear to me. His envy, resulting in a cruel taunt. Then, after the unforeseen outcome, endless brooding. Poor brother, he was deranged with it!

I dashed downstairs, but Janet was already leaving. She went without even taking her beautiful clothes, her expensive jewelry. She packed a small case, slammed the front door without a word and was gone.

Next day I called on Professor Juker. Without talking much about Janet I told him about Jack.

He nodded thoughtfully, knocked the ash out of his pipe and put it away.

“You’re right,” he said. “That fact is, we can’t hope to keep him alive indefinitely. The temperature’s bound to rise, even if only marginally, and it will be no consolation to him to know that the main current is still flowing on Celenthenis. It’s only common humanity to save his life.”

Juker put up the money for the costly cartridges, and I flew the ship. As for Jack, I didn’t even ask him if he still wanted to go. I wasn’t giving him the option, because I knew that once he was gone I could have Janet back.

Landing on Celenthenis, I stood outside the airlock, took the green rock in my gloved hand and flung it as far as I could.

I didn’t even see it land.

Farewell, brother Jack, may you have a long life! The Montgomery Cloudbank is a huge affair and doesn’t move much, so it ought to be a long one. You’ll live until Celenthenis warms up, so you’ll probably still be there when Earth is gone.