A Cure for Cancer

I Mail-order bride from Pennsylvania

Somewhere in Pennsylvania, in thickly wooded hills overlooking the Delaware, the bus stopped by a tall barbed wire fence bearing a wooden notice board that said KEEP OUT — GOVT PROTECTED EXPERIMENTAL NATURE RESERVE.

'Okay, everybody.' The driver took a Swiss M11 Carbine from under his seat. 'Here's where you spend your vacation.'

Taylor and Dunlop glanced at him disapprovingly. The blue doors hissed open and the passengers piled out into the narrow dirt road that ran beside the wire.

Jerry's spirits were rising. As he left the bus, he tipped the driver a dollar.

This way,' said Dunlop.

Struggling with their heavy suitcases, the passengers followed Taylor and Dunlop until they reached a decorative wrought-iron gate in front of, a small Bavarian-style lodge from which three armed militiamen, in the black uniforms, the mirror sunglasses and the motor-cycle helmets, emerged.

A fourth militiaman poked his head out of the whimsically carved doorway. 'Wait there. I'll call the camp.'

Jerry gripped two curling bits of black metal and peered through the gate, breathing in the gentle scent of pines. A wide track led between the trees on the other side of the wire and disappeared over a rise. Beyond the rise a diesel engine whined and a big Ford articulated freight truck came bumping into sight and, sounding the twin golden horns on its roof, swung round in the clearing near the lodge. The driver jumped down from his cab and ran to open the sliding doors of the truck.

One of the militiamen unlocked the wrought-iron gate. 'Okay. Come on through.'

The passengers trudged up to the freight wagon and got awkwardly aboard.

Jerry helped the old lady clamber in.

'It stinks of meat.' She leaned on his shoulder. 'Of animals. What the hell is the company doing to us?'

'It's only a short ride, ma'am. ' Jerry assisted Karen, relishing. the texture of the rough tweed on his palm. 'We'll soon be there.'

As the doors of the car slid shut and the engine started up, Jerry crouched in a corner in the semi-darkness and they bumped through the woods. Five minutes later the truck braked and the outside air rang with cheerful shouts until it moved on a few yards, stopped again, and cut off its engine.

They blinked as the doors slid open to reveal a surly sergeant who waved them out with his rifle.

Mr Feldman had recovered slightly. He stood in the yard dusting himself down as his fellow-passengers disembarked and looked incuriously round at the long wooden huts and the triple fence of barbed wire that had armed observation towers every thirty feet. 'Who's in charge here?' demanded Mr Feldman. 'I have some questions to ask.'

'You want the Camp Governor,' the surly sergeant told him. 'He'll be talking to you in a few minutes.'

Jerry began to whistle. Karen looked at him with a mixture of contempt, suspicion and panic.

There was a chance of a break, after all.

2 How soon legal polygamy?

The new arrivals stood in a long line facing the main hut and there was only the sound of the pine cones cracking in the heat until the door marked CAMP GOVERNOR creaked open and a tall, elegant man came out and saluted them.

The Camp Governor wore a uniform cut from fine, black needlecord and his cap was at just the right angle above his mirror sunglasses which were as black and as bright as his highly polished jackboots.

'Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. I am Captain Brunner, your governor. It is my duty and pleasure to ensure that you are properly looked after during your stay here. As you are no doubt aware, under the present emergency conditions laid down by our president, Mr Boyle, an in-depth and far-thinking piece of social experimentation is taking place and you are privileged to be part of the experiment which touches, to a degree, on the problems of overpopulation in this nation. You will, of course, be well treated and all your basic needs will be catered to. Western...' He reached languidly for the clipboard which the sergeant handed him. 'We can assure you, however, that your internment will be as short as possible. We aim for a quick release.' He turned his attention to the clipboard. 'Now, could all professional men and wives of professional men over forty please raise their hands?'

Only Jerry and Karen von Krupp did not raise their hands. 'Excellent,' said Captain Brunner. 'You are all — or almost all -' he glanced disapprovingly at Jerry and Karen — 'entitled to priority service. Are there any questions I can answer for you?'

Mr Feldman raised his hand. 'My name is Feldman. Can I call my wife and tell her where I am?'

'Even better, Mr Feldman — we are tracing your wife and she should be joining you soon. Yes, ma'am.'

'My name's Mrs Meriel McCarthy.'

'Yes?'

'I want to know what I am doing here.'

'Your maiden name?'

'Sullivan.'

'I see. Well, it's hard to explain in a word, Mrs McCarthy. It's all part of President Boyle's Law and Order Campaign. You believe in Law and Order, I hope?'

'Of course.'

Then I'm sure you will be prepared to suffer a little inconvenience for a short time so that the president can make sure there's plenty of Law and Order in the future?'

'I guess so.'

'Fine. Well, I suppose you're all tired and dusty after your journey and want to wash-up. Leave your bags here and they will be taken to your accommodation. The sergeant will show you to the ablutions hut.'

The new arrivals followed the sergeant towards the hut with the tall chimney. Jerry and Karen were left standing among the abandoned suitcases.

'I'll deal with you two in my office.' Captain Brunner hung the clipboard on a hook by the door. 'Step inside, please.' He sauntered through the door which swung shut behind him.

Karen looked towards the disappearing line of people and then at Jerry. 'You seem in better shape,' she said.

'Not part of the plan, eh?' Jerry pushed open Captain Brun-ner's door. 'Come on in.'

Hesitantly, Karen followed him in. The office was beautifully furnished, with leather panelling and matching furniture. The view through the window showed a school yard in which happy children in little white smocks were playing.

Captain Brunner sat at his desk lighting a cigarette in a long, ivory holder. He had a sensitive face and long-fingered, almost delicate, hands. He removed his sunglasses and regarded Jerry through sardonic crimson eyes.

'Well, well, well... And what brings you to Camp Resurrection?'

'A series of circumstances, Captain Brunner. This is Doktor von Krupp.'

'Your mistress?'

'My ex-mistress.'

'How could that be possible? It seems, at this moment, Mr Cornelius, to be a question of accretion more than anything else.'

'It does indeed.'

'We'll see what we can do about it. Soon. Why are you in the U. S.? Looking for me, I hope.'

'I thought I was looking for a Bishop Beesley, but it's possible that I came to lose myself, as it were. Not anticipated, of course.'

'You can't run away from yourself, Mr Cornelius.'

'I hope you're right, captain. I feel better already.'

'So you should. You're in the shit, really, if you don't mind me telling you...'

That was my impression.' Jerry tapped his skull. 'I was a bit out of sorts. When this Beesley pinched a batch of our best transmogs...'

'Still fishing, eh? Well, I know how it is. The last I heard of Beesley was at a party a week ago. He was in San Francisco, I gather, with his yacht.'

'With my patients?'

'Almost certainly. His main headquarters are nearby — in Los Angeles.'

'Is he working for your boss? This Boyle?'

'Good heavens, no. Beesley may be crude, but he's not that crude. He has nothing to do with the creation of Greater America. Is the name Emil familiar?'

'No.'

'Well, he's vaguely connected with that name in some way. A faustian character, your Bishop Beesley, really.'

'I wouldn't say that,' said Karen von Krupp. 'Doubtless you know him better than I.' Captain Brunner removed his cap and placed it neatly on the desk. His short hair was as white as Jerry's. He undid his tunic collar.

Karen von Krupp was frowning. 'Are you responsible for this situation, Captain Brunner?'

'Indirectly, yes. Now, Jerry, we'll have to think of getting you out of here, won't we?'

'I suppose so.'

'It's obvious you can't stay. You'll have to escape and perhaps you'd better kill me at the same time. I presume you've a needle-gun with you.'

'Vibragun.'

'So it's vibraguns now, is it? Well, well. That'll do, anyhow. It will be a relief.'

To both of us.'

'Yes, indeed.'

'I was wondering if there was a Shift Tunnel handy.'

'In America? You must be joking. This is a stable country, Mr Cornelius. Even I can't produce miracles!'

Jerry laughed. 'A helicopter, then? Or a light plane?'

The best I can offer is that diesel truck. Unless...' he raised his hands in a helpless gesture. 'We're in the sticks, here, Mr Cornelius.'

'Okay. What shall we do now?'

'Wait in my office until I return. There are very few books, I'm afraid. Watch the children playing. Aren't they sweet? Do you love children as much as me?'

'Naturally.'

3. The old Hollywood spirit never dies

Captain Brunner soon came back. 'I'd forgotten I wouldn't be needing the Duesenberg. You can take that, if you like.'

Jerry nodded. 'Why had you forgotten?'

'It was returned just this morning. My chauffeur borrowed it and got caught on a carefree driving rap. He was shot yesterday. Even I couldn't get him off that one.'

They laughed together.

Karen von Krupp sucked at her teeth. There was a tiny spot of blood in the middle of her lower lip. She had tense hands.

'I don't know,' said Jerry, 'whether to go to Frisco and risk it or try to make for somewhere else, under the circumstances. You'd know best.'

True enough. But I don't want to influence your decision, Mr Cornelius. See how it works out.'

'Certainly. Now, are we going to make this a spectacular?'

'Why not?'

'Okay. Don't look so defeated, Karen. You can't win them all. Are you coming with me?'

'I'm staying here.'

'Is that a good idea, do you think? Beesley...'

'Failure is failure. I'm staying.'

'In what capacity?' Brunner asked politely.

She shrugged and her looks faded. 'I don't much care. It's peaceful here.'

Jerry gave her shoulder a sympathetic pat. 'You know, I should really shoot you. It's the policy.'

She continued to suck at her teeth.

'That adds a new wrinkle.' Jerry winked at her.

A tear fell out of her eye.

'Let her stay here,' Captain Brunner suggested. 'I'm sure she'll go far when she gets over it.'

'But Beesley 'Will it make a lot of difference?'

Time's silting up.'

'You're right, I suppose.' Jerry grinned. 'Sweet dreams, Karen.'. 'Off we go, then.' Captain Brunner danced for the door.

'Off we go.'

Off they went, with Jerry pushing Captain Brunner ahead of him with his vibragun and Captain Brunner calling in a delicious treble, 'Do as he orders! Do as he orders!'

The big Duesenberg — three tons, supercharged, built 1936, with its bullet-proof windows and steel shutters — was outside.

They climbed in.

Captain Brunner drove and Jerry Cornelius pointed the vibragun at his head.

Black uniformed guards milled around in excitement, trying to think of something positive. Then the wind took a turn and thick yellow smoke from the chimneys got into their eyes and throats and made them cough. As they opened the gates of Camp Resurrection, most of them just looked embarrassed.

Standing outside the governor's office, Karen von Krupp waved almost sadly to Jerry.

'Good, old Karen,' said Jerry.

Captain Brunner settled himself comfortably at the wheel as they drove through the pines that filtered the last of the evening sunshine.

'I must admit I'd prefer Casablanca,' he said. 'But that's all in the past now, I'm afraid. Or present. It depends which way you look at it.' He took a swig from the bottle of Bell's Cream Whisky in the clip by the steering wheel. 'The last bottle. It's just as well, in the circumstances. You don't mind if I go part of the way with you, do you, my dear boy?'

'Heaven forbid!' said Jerry. 'Of course not.'

They reached the next fence and the lodge. Someone had phoned the guards, for they had their guns ready but couldn't think of a use for them.

Tut the plates up, could you, Captain Brunner?' Jerry smiled at the guards.

Captain Brunner touched a button. The steel shutters moaned upwards and they were in darkness. Captain Brunner switched on the light.

'Now,' said Jerry. 'If you wouldn't mind...'

'Say the word.'

'Consider it said.'

'And the word...'

Jerry smiled. 'Captain Brunner — you're a card after my own heart.'

The plate on Jerry's window opened up until there was a hole five inches in diameter in the very centre. Jerry poked his gun through and took aim. The guards shook to pieces. He turned the gun and the gates quivered and creaked and fell down. They roared through 'Hey ho for the open road,' sang Captain Brunner, turning the car in the general direction of Buffalo. 'Where were you thinking of for the honeymoon?'

'Where else?'

With a spontaneous gesture of affection, Captain Brunner flung his arm around Jerry's silken shoulders, hugged him tight, and stepped hard on the accelerator.