ASSIGNMENT'S END
By ROGER DEE
Illustrated by DOCKTOR
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science FictionDecember 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
He was just emerging for the hundredth time during the week from thefrightening hallucination that had come to plague him, when KittyMurchinsom came into his office.
"It's almost 15:00, Philip," she said.
When she had entered, her face had taken on the placid look thateveryone wore—unwittingly, but inevitably—the instant they came nearAlcorn.
Finding Kitty's cool blonde loveliness projected so abruptly against thebleak polar plain of his waking dream, he knew how much more she wasthan either fiancee or secretary alone. She was a beacon of reassurancein a sea of uncertainty.
"Thanks, darling," he said, and looked at his watch. "I'd havewoolgathered past my appointment and it's an important one."
He stood up. Kitty came closer and put both hands on his shoulders.
"You've had another of those dreams, haven't you? I wish you'd see a—adoctor about them."
He laughed, and if the sound rang hollow, she seemed not to notice.
"That's why I asked you to call me. I've made an appointment with one."
She stood on tiptoe to kiss him. "I'm glad you're decided. You haven'tbeen yourself at all for a week, Philip, and I couldn't bear ahoneymoon with a preoccupied husband!"
He managed the appropriate leer, though he had never felt less like it.The apprehension that followed his daytime chimera was on him again, sostrongly that what he wanted most to do was to take Kitty's handtightly, like a frightened child, and run headlong until he was beyondreach of whatever it was that threatened him.
"Small chance," he said, instead. "Any man who'd dream away a honeymoonwith you is dead already."
She sighed placidly and turned back to the business at hand. "You won'tbe late for your 16:00 conference with our Mr. O'Donnell and DirectorMulhall of Irradiated Foods, will you? Poor Sean would be lost withoutyou."
He felt the usual nagging dissatisfaction with the peculiar talent thathad put him where he was in Consolidated Advertising. "He'd probablylose this case without my soothing presence and CA would pay its firstungrounded refund claim in—" he counted back over the time he had beenwith Consolidated—"four years and eight months."
Kitty said wistfully, "Shall I see you tonight, Philip?"
He frowned, searching for a way to ease the hurt she would feel later,and finding none. "That depends on the psychiatrist. If he can't helpme, I may fly up to my cabin in the Catskills and wrestle this thing outfor myself."
Kitty moved to go, and then turned back. "I almost forgot. There was acall for you at noon from a secretary of Victor Jaffers' at CarterInternational. She seemed to know you'd be out and said that Mr. Jafferswould call again at 15:00."
"Victor Jaffers?" Alcorn repeated. The name added a further premonitorydepression. "I think I know what he wants. It's happened before."
When Kitty had gone, Alcorn took a restless turn about the room and wasinterrupted at once by the gentle buzzing of the radophone unit on hisdesk. He pressed the receiving stud and found himself facing VictorJaffers' image.
"Don't bother to record this," Jaffers said without preamble. "Complete