FOREVER By NED LANG _Of all the irksome, frustrating, maddening discoveries--was there no way of keeping it discovered?_ Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS With so much at stake, Charles Dennison should not have been careless. An inventor cannot afford carelessness, particularly when his inventionis extremely valuable and obviously patentable. There are too manygrasping hands ready to seize what belongs to someone else, too many menwho feast upon the creativity of the innocent. A touch of paranoia would have served Dennison well; but he was lackingin that vital characteristic of inventors. And he didn't even realizethe full extent of his carelessness until a bullet, fired from asilenced weapon, chipped a granite wall not three inches from his head. Then he knew. But by then it was too late. Charles Dennison had been left a more than adequate income by hisfather. He had gone to Harvard, served a hitch in the Navy, thencontinued his education at M. I. T. Since the age of thirty-two, he hadbeen engaged in private research, working in his own small laboratory inRiverdale, New York. Plant biology was his field. He published severalnoteworthy papers, and sold a new insecticide to a developmentcorporation. The royalties helped him to expand his facilities. Dennison enjoyed working alone. It suited his temperament, which wasaustere but not unfriendly. Two or three times a year, he would come toNew York, see some plays and movies, and do a little serious drinking. He would then return gratefully to his seclusion. He was a bachelor andseemed destined to remain that way. Not long after his fortieth birthday, Dennison stumbled across anintriguing clue which led him into a different branch of biology. Hepursued his clue, developed it, extended it slowly into a hypothesis. After three more years, a lucky accident put the final proofs into hishands. He had invented a most effective longevity drug. It was not proofagainst violence; aside from that, however, it could fairly be called animmortality serum. * * * * * Now was the time for caution. But years of seclusion had made Dennisonunwary of people and their motives. He was more or less heedless of theworld around him; it never occurred to him that the world was notequally heedless of him. He thought only about his serum. It was valuable and patentable. But wasit the sort of thing that should be revealed? Was the world ready for animmortality drug? He had never enjoyed speculation of this sort. But since the atom bomb, many scientists had been forced to look at the ethics of theirprofession. Dennison looked at his and decided that immortality wasinevitable. Mankind had, throughout its existence, poked and probed into therecesses of nature, trying to figure out how things worked. If one mandidn't discover fire, or the use of the lever, or gunpowder, or the atombomb, or immortality, another would. Man willed to know all nature'ssecrets, and there was no way of keeping them hidden. Armed with this bleak but comforting philosophy, Dennison packed hisformulas and proofs into a briefcase, slipped a two-ounce bottle of theproduct into a jacket pocket, and left his Riverdale laboratory. It wasalready evening. He planned to spend the night in a good midtown hotel, see a movie, and proceed to the Patent Office in Washington thefollowing day. On the subway, Dennison was absorbed in a newspaper. He was barelyconscious of the men sitting on either side of him. He became aware ofthem only when the man on his right poked him firmly in the ribs. Dennison glanced over and saw the snub nose of a small automatic, concealed from the rest of the car by a newspaper, resting against hisside. "What is this?" Dennison asked. "Hand it over, " the man said. Dennison was stunned. How could anyone have known about his discovery?And how could they dare try to rob him in a public subway car? Then he realized that they were probably just after his money. "I don't have much on me, " Dennison said hoarsely, reaching for hiswallet. The man on his left leaned over and slapped the briefcase. "Not money, "he said. "The immortality stuff. " * * * * * In some unaccountable fashion, they knew. What if he refused to give uphis briefcase? Would they dare fire the automatic in the subway? It wasa very small caliber weapon. Its noise might not even be heard above thesubway's roar. And probably they felt justified in taking the risk for aprize as great as the one Dennison carried. He looked at them quickly. They were mild-looking men, quietly, almostsomberly dressed. Something about their clothing jogged Dennison'smemory unpleasantly, but he didn't have time to place the recollection. The automatic was digging painfully into his ribs. The subway was coming to a station. Dennison glanced at the man on hisleft and caught the glint of light on a tiny hypodermic. Many inventors, involved only in their own thoughts, are slow ofreaction. But Dennison had been a gunnery officer in the Navy and hadseen his share of action. He was damned if he was going to give up hisinvention so easily. He jumped from his seat and the hypo passed through the sleeve of hiscoat, just missing his arm. He swung the briefcase at the man with theautomatic, catching him across the forehead with the metal edge. As thedoors opened, he ran past a popeyed subway guard, up the stairs and intothe street. The two men followed, one of them streaming blood from his forehead. Dennison ran, looking wildly around for a policeman. The men behind him were screaming, "Stop, thief! Police! Police! Stopthat man!" Apparently they were also prepared to face the police and to claim thebriefcase and bottle as their own. Ridiculous! Yet the complete andindignant confidence in their shrill voices unnerved Dennison. He hateda scene. Still, a policeman would be best. The briefcase was filled with proof ofwho he was. Even his name was initialed on the outside of the briefcase. One glance would tell anyone . .. He caught a flash of metal from his briefcase, and, still running, looked at it. He was shocked to see a metal plate fixed to the cowhide, over the place where his initials had been. The man on his left musthave done that when he slapped the briefcase. Dennison dug at the plate with his fingertips, but it would not comeoff. It read, _Property of Edward James Flaherty, Smithfield Institute_. Perhaps a policeman wouldn't be so much help, after all. But the problem was academic, for Dennison saw no policeman along thecrowded Bronx street. People stood aside as he ran past, staringopen-mouthed, offering neither assistance nor interference. But the menbehind him were still screaming, "Stop the thief! Stop the thief!" The entire long block was alerted. The people, like some sluggish beastgoaded reluctantly into action, began to make tentative movements towardDennison, impelled by the outraged cries of his pursuers. * * * * * Unless he balanced the scales of public opinion, some do-gooder wasgoing to interfere soon. Dennison conquered his shyness and pride, andcalled out, "Help me! They're trying to rob me! Stop them!" But his voice lacked the moral indignation, the absolute conviction ofhis two shrill-voiced pursuers. A burly young man stepped forward toblock Dennison's way, but at the last moment a woman pulled him back. "Don't get into trouble, Charley. " "Why don't someone call a cop?" "Yeah, where are the cops?" "Over at a big fire on 178th Street, I hear. " "We oughta stop that guy. " "I'm willing if you're willing. " Dennison's way was suddenly blocked by four grinning youths, teen-agersin black motorcycle jackets and boots, excited by the chance for alittle action, delighted at the opportunity to hit someone in the nameof law and order. [Illustration] Dennison saw them, swerved suddenly and sprinted across the street. Abus loomed in front of him. He hurled himself out of its way, fell, got up again and ran on. His pursuers were delayed by the dense flow of traffic. Theirhigh-pitched cries faded as Dennison turned into a side street, ran downits length, then down another. He was in a section of massive apartment buildings. His lungs felt likea blast furnace and his left side seemed to be sewed together withred-hot wire. There was no help for it, he had to rest. It was then that the first bullet, fired from a silenced weapon, chippeda granite wall not three inches from his head. That was when Dennisonrealized the full extent of his carelessness. He pulled the bottle out of his pocket. He had hoped to carry out moreexperiments on the serum before trying it on human beings. Now there wasno choice. Dennison yanked out the stopper and drained the contents. Immediately he was running again, as a second bullet scored the granitewall. The great blocks of apartments loomed endlessly ahead of him, silent and alien. There were no walkers upon the streets. There was onlyDennison, running more slowly now past the immense, blank-facedapartments. * * * * * A long black car came up behind him, its searchlight probing into doorsand alleys. Was it the police? "That's him!" cried the shrill, unnerving voice of one of Dennison'spursuers. Dennison ducked into a narrow alley between buildings, raced down it andinto the next street. There were two cars on that street, at either end of the block, theirheadlights shining toward each other, moving slowly to trap him in themiddle. The alley gleamed with light now, from the first car'sheadlights shining down it. He was surrounded. Dennison raced to the nearest apartment building and yanked at the door. It was locked. The two cars were almost even with him. And, looking atthem, Dennison remembered the unpleasant jog his memory had given himearlier. The two cars were hearses. The men in the subway, with their solemn faces, solemn clothing, subduedneckties, shrill, indignant voices--they had reminded him ofundertakers. They _had_ been undertakers! Of course! Of course! Oil companies might want to block the invention ofa cheap new fuel which could put them out of business; steelcorporations might try to stop the development of an inexpensive, stronger-than-steel plastic . .. And the production of an immortality serum would put the undertakers outof business. His progress, and the progress of thousands of other researchers inbiology, must have been watched. And when he made his discovery, theyhad been ready. The hearses stopped, and somber-faced, respectable-looking men in blacksuits and pearl-gray neckties poured out and seized him. The briefcasewas yanked out of his hand. He felt the prick of a needle in hisshoulder. Then, with no transitional dizziness, he passed out. * * * * * He came to sitting in an armchair. There were armed men on either sideof him. In front of him stood a small, plump, undistinguished-lookingman in sedate clothing. "My name is Mr. Bennet, " the plump man said. "I wish to beg yourforgiveness, Mr. Dennison, for the violence to which you were subjected. We found out about your invention only at the last moment and thereforehad to improvise. The bullets were meant only to frighten and delay you. Murder was not our intention. " "You merely wanted to steal my discovery, " Dennison said. "Not at all, " Mr. Bennet told him. "The secret of immortality has beenin our possession for quite some time. " "I see. Then you want to keep immortality from the public in order tosafeguard your damned undertaking business!" "Isn't that rather a naive view?" Mr. Bennet asked, smiling. "As ithappens, my associates and I are _not_ undertakers. We took on thedisguise in order to present an understandable motive if our plan tocapture you had misfired. In that event, others would have believedexactly--and only--what you thought: that our purpose was to safeguardour business. " Dennison frowned and watchfully waited. "Disguises come easily to us, " Mr. Bennet said, still smiling. "Perhapsyou have heard rumors about a new carburetor suppressed by the gasolinecompanies, or a new food source concealed by the great food suppliers, or a new synthetic hastily destroyed by the cotton-owning interests. That was us. And the inventions ended up here. " "You're trying to impress me, " Dennison said. "Certainly. " "Why did you stop me from patenting my immortality serum?" "The world is not ready for it yet, " said Mr. Bennet. "It isn't ready for a lot of things, " Dennison said. "Why didn't youblock the atom bomb?" "We tried, disguised as mercenary coal and oil interests. But we failed. However, we have succeeded with a surprising number of things. " "But what's the purpose behind it all?" "Earth's welfare, " Mr. Bennet said promptly. "Consider what would happenif the people were given your veritable immortality serum. The problemsof birth rate, food production, living space all would be aggravated. Tensions would mount, war would be imminent--" "So what?" Dennison challenged. "That's how things are right now, _without_ immortality. Besides, there have been cries of doom aboutevery new invention or discovery. Gunpowder, the printing press, nitroglycerin, the atom bomb, they were all supposed to destroy therace. But mankind has learned how to handle them. It had to! You can'tturn back the clock, and you can't un-discover something. If it's there, mankind must deal with it!" "Yes, in a bumbling, bloody, inefficient fashion, " said Mr. Bennet, withan expression of distaste. "Well, that's how Man is. " "Not if he's properly led, " Mr. Bennet said. "No?" * * * * * "Certainly not, " said Mr. Bennet. "You see, the immortality serumprovides a solution to the problem of political power. Rule by apermanent and enlightened elite is by far the best form of government;infinitely better than the blundering inefficiencies of democratic rule. But throughout history, this elite, whether monarchy, oligarchy, dictatorship or junta, has been unable to perpetuate itself. Leadersdie, the followers squabble for power, and chaos is close behind. Withimmortality, this last flaw would be corrected. There would be nodiscontinuity of leadership, for the leaders would always be there. " "A permanent dictatorship, " Dennison said. "Yes. A permanent, benevolent rule by small, carefully chosen elitecorps, based upon the sole and exclusive possession of immortality. It'shistorically inevitable. The only question is, who is going to getcontrol first?" "And you think you are?" Dennison demanded. "Of course. Our organization is still small, but absolutely solid. It isbolstered by every new invention that comes into our hands and by everyscientist who joins our ranks. Our time will come, Dennison! We'd liketo have you with us, among the elite. " "You want _me_ to join you?" Dennison asked, bewildered. "We do. Our organization needs creative scientific minds to help us inour work, to help us save mankind from itself. " "Count me out, " Dennison said, his heart beating fast. "You won't join us?" "I'd like to see you all hanged. " Mr. Bennet nodded thoughtfully and pursed his small lips. "You havetaken your own serum, have you not?" Dennison nodded. "I suppose that means you kill me now?" "We don't kill, " Mr. Bennet said. "We merely wait. I think you are areasonable man, and I think you'll come to see things our way. We'll bearound a long time. So will you. Take him away. " Dennison was led to an elevator that dropped deep into the Earth. He wasmarched down a long passageway lined with armed men. They went throughfour massive doors. At the fifth, Dennison was pushed inside alone, andthe door was locked behind him. He was in a large, well-furnished apartment. There were perhaps twentypeople in the room, and they came forward to meet him. One of them, a stocky, bearded man, was an old college acquaintance ofDennison's. "Jim Ferris?" "That's right, " Ferris said. "Welcome to the Immortality Club, Dennison. " "I read you were killed in an air crash last year. " "I merely--disappeared, " Ferris said, with a rueful smile, "afterinventing the immortality serum. Just like the others. " "All of them?" "Fifteen of the men here invented the serum independently. The rest aresuccessful inventors in other fields. Our oldest member is Doctor Li, aserum discoverer, who disappeared from San Francisco in 1911. You areour latest acquisition. Our clubhouse is probably the most carefullyguarded place on Earth. " * * * * * Dennison said, "Nineteen-eleven!" Despair flooded him and he sat downheavily in a chair. "Then there's no possibility of rescue?" "None. There are only four choices available to us, " Ferris said. "Somehave left us and joined the Undertakers. Others have suicided. A fewhave gone insane. The rest of us have formed the Immortality Club. " "What for?" Dennison bewilderedly asked. "To get out of this place!" said Ferris. "To escape and give ourdiscoveries to the world. To stop those hopeful little dictatorsupstairs. " "They must know what you're planning. " "Of course. But they let us live because, every so often, one of usgives up and joins them. And they don't think we can ever break out. They're much too smug. It's the basic defect of all power-elites, andtheir eventual undoing. " "You said this was the most closely guarded place on Earth?" "It is, " Ferris said. "And some of you have been trying to break out for fifty years? Why, it'll take forever to escape!" "Forever is exactly how long we have, " said Ferris. "But we hope itwon't take quite that long. Every new man brings new ideas, plans. Oneof them is bound to work. " "_Forever_, " Dennison said, his face buried in his hands. "You can go back upstairs and join them, " Ferris said, with a hard noteto his voice, "or you can suicide, or just sit in a corner and goquietly mad. Take your pick. " Dennison looked up. "I must be honest with you and with myself. I don'tthink we can escape. Furthermore, I don't think any of you reallybelieve we can. " Ferris shrugged his shoulders. "Aside from that, " Dennison said, "I think it's a damned good idea. Ifyou'll bring me up to date, I'll contribute whatever I can to theForever Project. And let's hope their complacency lasts. " "It will, " Ferris said. * * * * * The escape did not take forever, of course. In one hundred andthirty-seven years, Dennison and his colleagues made their successfulbreakout and revealed the Undertakers' Plot. The Undertakers were triedbefore the High Court on charges of kidnapping, conspiracy to overthrowthe government, and illegal possession of immortality. They were foundguilty on all counts and summarily executed. Dennison and his colleagues were also in illegal possession ofimmortality, which is the privilege only of our governmental elite. Butthe death penalty was waived in view of the Immortality Club's serviceto the State. This mercy was premature, however. After some months the members of theImmortality Club went into hiding, with the avowed purpose ofoverthrowing the Elite Rule and disseminating immortality among themasses. Project Forever, as they termed it, has received some supportfrom dissidents, who have not yet been apprehended. It cannot beconsidered a serious threat. But this deviationist action in no way detracts from the glory of theClub's escape from the Undertakers. The ingenious way in which Dennisonand his colleagues broke out of their seemingly impregnable prison, using only a steel belt buckle, a tungsten filament, three hens' eggs, and twelve chemicals that can be readily obtained from the human body, is too well known to be repeated here. --NED LANG Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from _Galaxy Science Fiction_ February 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.