<h1>The Dwindling Years</h1>
<p class="c002"><b><i>He didn’t expect to be last—but
neither did he anticipate
the horror of being the first!</i></b></p>
<div class="nf-center-c1">
<div class="nf-center c003">
<div><span class="large"><b>By LESTER DEL REY</b></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c004">NEARLY TWO hundred
years of habit carried the
chairman of Exodus Corporation
through the morning ritual
of crossing the executive
floor. Giles made the expected
comments, smiled the proper
smiles and greeted his staff by
the right names, but it was purely
automatic. Somehow, thinking
had grown difficult in the mornings
recently.</p>
<p class="c005">Inside his private office, he
dropped all pretense and slumped
into the padding of his chair, gasping
for breath and feeling his
heart hammering in his chest.
He’d been a fool to come to work,
he realized. But with the Procyon
shuttle arriving yesterday, there
was no telling what might turn
up. Besides, that fool of a medicist
had sworn the shot would
cure any allergy or asthma.</p>
<p class="c005">Giles heard his secretary come
in, but it wasn’t until the smell
of the coffee reached his nose
that he looked up. She handed
him a filled cup and set the carafe
down on the age-polished surface
of the big desk. She watched
solicitously as he drank.</p>
<p class="c005">“That bad, Arthur?” she asked.</p>
<p class="c005">“Just a little tired,” he told
her, refilling the cup. She’d made
the coffee stronger than usual
and it seemed to cut through
some of the thickness in his head.
“I guess I’m getting old, Amanda.”</p>
<p class="c005">She smiled dutifully at the
time-worn joke, but he knew she
wasn’t fooled. She’d cycled to
middle age four times in her
job and she probably knew him
better than he knew himself—which
wouldn’t be hard, he
thought. He’d hardly recognized
the stranger in the mirror as he
tried to shave. His normal thinness
had looked almost gaunt
and there were hollows in his
face and circles under his eyes.
Even his hair had seemed thinner,
though that, of course, was
impossible.</p>
<p class="c005">“Anything urgent on the Procyon
shuttle?” he asked as she
continue staring at him with worried
eyes.</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c007">SHE JERKED her gaze away
guiltily and turned to the incoming
basket. “Mostly drugs for
experimenting. A personal letter
for you, relayed from some place
I never heard of. And one of the
super-light missiles! They found
it drifting half a light-year out
and captured it. Jordan’s got a
report on it and he’s going crazy.
But if you don’t feel well—”</p>
<p class="c005">“I’m all right!” he told her
sharply. Then he steadied himself
and managed to smile. “Thanks
for the coffee, Amanda.”</p>
<p class="c005">She accepted dismissal reluctantly.
When she was gone, he
sat gazing at the report from Jordan
at Research.</p>
<p class="c005">For eighty years now, they’d
been sending out the little ships
that vanished at greater than the
speed of light, equipped with
every conceivable device to make
them return automatically after
taking pictures of wherever they
arrived. So far, none had ever returned
or been located. This was
the first hope they’d found that
the century-long trips between
stars in the ponderous shuttles
might be ended and he should
have been filled with excitement
at Jordan’s hasty preliminary report.</p>
<p class="c005">He leafed through it. The little
ship apparently had been picked
up by accident when it almost
collided with a Sirius-local ship.
Scientists there had puzzled over
it, reset it and sent it back. The
two white rats on it had still been
alive.</p>
<p class="c005">Giles dropped the report wearily
and picked up the personal
message that had come on the
shuttle. He fingered the microstrip
inside while he drank another
coffee, and finally pulled
out the microviewer. There were
three frames to the message, he
saw with some surprise.</p>
<p class="c005">He didn’t need to see the signature
on the first projection.
Only his youngest son would have
sent an elaborate tercentenary
greeting verse—one that would
arrive ninety years too late! Harry
had been born just before Earth
passed the drastic birth limitation
act and his mother had
spoiled him. He’d even tried to
avoid the compulsory emigration
draft and stay on with his mother.
It had been the bitter quarrels
over that which had finally
broken Giles’ fifth marriage.</p>
<p class="c005">Oddly enough, the message in
the next frame showed none of
that. Harry had nothing but
praise for the solar system where
he’d been sent. He barely mentioned
being married on the way
or his dozen children, but filled
most of the frame with glowing
description and a plea for his
father to join him there!</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_2_0_6 c007">GILES SNORTED and turned
to the third frame, which
showed a group picture of the
family in some sort of vehicle,
against the background of an alien
but attractive world.</p>
<p class="c005">He had no desire to spend
ninety years cooped up with a
bunch of callow young emigrants,
even in one of the improved Exodus
shuttles. And even if Exodus
ever got the super-light
drive working, there was no reason
he should give up his work.
The discovery that men could
live practically forever had put
an end to most family ties; sentiment
wore thin in half a century—which
wasn’t much time
now, though it had once seemed
long enough.</p>
<p class="c005">Strange how the years seemed
to get shorter as their number increased.
There’d been a song
once—something about the years
dwindling down. He groped for
the lines and couldn’t remember.
Drat it! Now he’d probably lie
awake most of the night again,
trying to recall them.</p>
<p class="c005">The outside line buzzed musically,
flashing Research’s number.
Giles grunted in irritation. He
wasn’t ready to face Jordan yet.
But he shrugged and pressed the
button.</p>
<p class="c005">The intense face that looked
from the screen was frowning as
Jordan’s eyes seemed to sweep
around the room. He was still
young—one of the few under
a hundred who’d escaped deportation
because of special ability—and
patience was still foreign to
him.</p>
<p class="c005">Then the frown vanished as
an expression of shock replaced
it, and Giles felt a sinking sensation.
If he looked <i>that</i> bad—</p>
<p class="c005">But Jordan wasn’t looking at
him; the man’s interest lay in the
projected picture from Harry, across
the desk from the communicator.</p>
<p class="c005">“Antigravity!” His voice was
unbelieving as he turned his head
to face the older man. “What
world is that?”</p>
<p class="c005">Giles forced his attention on
the picture again and this time
he noticed the vehicle shown. It
was enough like an old model
Earth conveyance to pass casual
inspection, but it floated wheellessly
above the ground. Faint
blur lines indicated it had been
moving when the picture was
taken.</p>
<p class="c005">“One of my sons—” Giles
started to answer. “I could find
the star’s designation....”</p>
<p class="c005">Jordan cursed harshly. “So we
can send a message on the shuttle,
begging for their secret in a
couple of hundred years! While
a hundred other worlds make a
thousand major discoveries they
don’t bother reporting! Can’t the
Council see <i>anything</i>?”</p>
<p class="c005">Giles had heard it all before.
Earth was becoming a backwater
world; no real progress had been
made in two centuries; the young
men were sent out as soon as
their first fifty years of education
were finished, and the older men
were too conservative for really
new thinking. There was a measure
of truth in it, unfortunately.</p>
<p class="c005">“They’ll slow up when their
populations fill,” Giles repeated
his old answers. “We’re still ahead
in medicine and we’ll get the
other discoveries eventually, without
interrupting the work of making
the Earth fit for our longevity.
We can wait. We’ll have to.”</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c007">THE YOUNGER man stared
at him with the strange puzzled
look Giles had seen too often
lately. “Damn it, haven’t you read
my report? We know the super-light
drive works! That missile
reached Sirius in less than ten
days. We can have the secret of
this antigravity in less than a
year! We—”</p>
<p class="c005">“Wait a minute.” Giles felt the
thickness pushing back at his
mind and tried to fight it off. He’d
only skimmed the report, but this
made no sense. “You mean you
can calibrate your guiding devices
accurately enough to get a
missile where you want it and
back?”</p>
<p class="c005">“<i>What?</i>” Jordan’s voice rattled
the speaker. “Of course not! It
took two accidents to get the
thing back to us—and with a
half-light-year miss that delayed
it about twenty years before the
Procyon shuttle heard its signal.
Pre-setting a course may take
centuries, if we can ever master
it. Even with Sirius expecting the
missiles and ready to cooperate.
I mean the big ship. We’ve had it
drafted for building long enough;
now we can finish it in three
months. We know the drive works.
We know it’s fast enough to reach
Procyon in two weeks. We even
know life can stand the trip. The
rats were unharmed.”</p>
<p class="c005">Giles shook his head at what
the other was proposing, only
partly believing it. “Rats don’t
have minds that could show any
real damage such as the loss of
power to rejuvenate. We can’t put
human pilots into a ship with our
drive until we’ve tested it more
thoroughly, Bill, even if they
could correct for errors on arrival.
Maybe if we put in stronger signaling
transmitters....”</p>
<p class="c005">“Yeah. Maybe in two centuries
we’d have a through route charted
to Sirius. And we still wouldn’t
have proved it safe for human
pilots. Mr. Giles, we’ve got to
have the big ship. All we need is
<i>one</i> volunteer!”</p>
<p class="c005">It occurred to Giles then that
the man had been too fired with
the idea to think. He leaned back,
shaking his head again wearily.
“All right, Bill. Find me one volunteer.
Or how about you? Do
you really want to risk losing the
rest of your life rather than waiting
a couple more centuries until
we know it’s safe? If you do, I’ll
order the big ship.”</p>
<p class="c005">Jordan opened his mouth and
for a second Giles’ heart caught
in a flux of emotions as the
man’s offer hovered on his lips.
Then the engineer shut his mouth
slowly. The belligerence ran out
of him.</p>
<p class="c005">He looked sick, for he had no
answer.</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c007">NO SANE man would risk a
chance for near eternity
against such a relatively short
wait. Heroism had belonged to
those who knew their days were
numbered, anyhow.</p>
<p class="c005">“Forget it, Bill,” Giles advised.
“It may take longer, but eventually
we’ll find a way. With time
enough, we’re bound to. And
when we do, the ship will be
ready.”</p>
<p class="c005">The engineer nodded miserably
and clicked off. Giles turned
from the blank screen to stare
out of the windows, while his
hand came up to twist at the lock
of hair over his forehead. Eternity!
They had to plan and build
for it. They couldn’t risk that
plan for short-term benefits. Usually
it was too easy to realize that,
and the sight of the solid, time-enduring
buildings outside should
have given him a sense of security.</p>
<p class="c005">Today, though, nothing seemed
to help. He felt choked, imprisoned,
somehow lost; the city beyond
the window blurred as he
studied it, and he swung the chair
back so violently that his hand
jerked painfully on the forelock
he’d been twisting.</p>
<p class="c005">Then he was staring unbelievingly
at the single white hair that
was twisted with the dark ones
between his fingers.</p>
<p class="c005">Like an automaton, he bent
forward, his other hand groping
for the mirror that should be in
one of the drawers. The dull pain
in his chest sharpened and his
breath was hoarse in his throat,
but he hardly noticed as he found
the mirror and brought it up. His
eyes focused reluctantly. There
were other white strands in his
dark hair.</p>
<p class="c005">The mirror crashed to the floor
as he staggered out of the office.</p>
<p class="c005">It was only two blocks to Giles’
residence club, but he had to
stop twice to catch his breath
and fight against the pain that
clawed at his chest. When he
reached the wood-paneled lobby,
he was barely able to stand.</p>
<p class="c005">Dubbins was at his side almost
at once, with a hand under
his arm to guide him toward his
suite.</p>
<p class="c005">“Let me help you, sir,” Dubbins
suggested, in the tones
Giles hadn’t heard since the man
had been his valet, back when
it was still possible to find personal
servants. Now he managed
the club on a level of quasi-equality
with the members. For the
moment, though, he’d slipped
back into the old ways.</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_2_0_6 c007">GILES FOUND himself lying
on his couch, partially undressed,
with the pillows just right
and a long drink in his hand. The
alcohol combined with the reaction
from his panic to leave him
almost himself again. After all,
there was nothing to worry about;
Earth’s doctors could cure anything.</p>
<p class="c005">“I guess you’d better call Dr.
Vincenti,” he decided. Vincenti
was a member and would probably
be the quickest to get.</p>
<p class="c005">Dubbins shook his head. “Dr.
Vincenti isn’t with us, sir. He
left a year ago to visit a son in
the Centauri system. There’s a
Dr. Cobb whose reputation is
very good, sir.”</p>
<p class="c005">Giles puzzled over it doubtfully.
Vincenti had been an oddly
morose man the last few times
he’d seen him, but that could
hardly explain his taking a twenty-year
shuttle trip for such a
slim reason. It was no concern of
his, though. “Dr. Cobb, then,” he
said.</p>
<p class="c005">Giles heard the other man’s
voice on the study phone, too low
for the words to be distinguishable.
He finished the drink, feeling
still better, and was sitting
up when Dubbins came back.</p>
<p class="c005">“Dr. Cobb wants you to come
to his office at once, sir,” he said,
dropping to his knee to help
Giles with his shoes. “I’d be
pleased to drive you there.”</p>
<p class="c005">Giles frowned. He’d expected
Cobb to come to him. Then he
grimaced at his own thoughts.
Dubbins’ manners must have carried
him back into the past; doctors
didn’t go in for home visits
now—they preferred to see their
patients in the laboratories that
housed their offices. If this kept
on, he’d be missing the old days
when he’d had a mansion and
counted his wealth in possessions,
instead of the treasures he could
build inside himself for the future
ahead. He was getting positively
childish!</p>
<p class="c005">Yet he relished the feeling of
having Dubbins drive his car.
More than anything else, he’d
loved being driven. Even after
chauffeurs were a thing of the
past, Harry had driven him
around. Now he’d taken to walking,
as so many others had, for
even with modern safety measures
so strict, there was always
a small chance of some accident
and nobody had any desire to
spend the long future as a cripple.</p>
<p class="c005">“I’ll wait for you, sir,” Dubbins
offered as they stopped beside
the low, massive medical building.</p>
<p class="c005">It was almost too much consideration.
Giles nodded, got out
and headed down the hall uncertainly.
Just how bad did he
look? Well, he’d soon find out.</p>
<p class="c005">He located the directory and
finally found the right office, its
reception room wall covered
with all the degrees Dr. Cobb had
picked up in some three hundred
years of practice. Giles felt
better, realizing it wouldn’t be
one of the younger men.</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c007">COBB APPEARED himself,
before the nurse could take
over, and led Giles into a room
with an old-fashioned desk and
chairs that almost concealed the
cabinets of equipment beyond.</p>
<p class="c005">He listened as Giles stumbled
out his story. Halfway through,
the nurse took a blood sample
with one of the little mosquito
needles and the machinery behind
the doctor began working on
it.</p>
<p class="c005">“Your friend told me about the
gray hair, of course,” Cobb said.
At Giles’ look, he smiled faintly.
“Surely you didn’t think people
could miss that in this day and
age? Let’s see it.”</p>
<p class="c005">He inspected it and began
making tests. Some were older
than Giles could remember—knee
reflex, blood pressure, pulse
and fluoroscope. Others involved
complicated little gadgets that
ran over his body, while meters
bobbed and wiggled. The blood
check came through and Cobb
studied it, to go back and make
further inspections of his own.</p>
<p class="c005">At last he nodded slowly.
“Hyper-catabolism, of course. I
thought it might be. How long
since you had your last rejuvenation?
And who gave it?”</p>
<p class="c005">“About ten years ago,” Giles
answered. He found his identity
card and passed it over, while
the doctor studied it. “My sixteenth.”</p>
<p class="c005">It wasn’t going right. He could
feel it. Some of the panic symptoms
were returning; the pulse in
his neck was pounding and his
breath was growing difficult.
Sweat ran down his sides from
his armpit and he wiped his palms
against his coat.</p>
<p class="c005">“Any particular emotional
strain when you were treated—some
major upset in your life?”
Cobb asked.</p>
<p class="c005">Giles thought as carefully as
he could, but he remembered
nothing like that. “You mean—it
didn’t take? But I never had
any trouble, Doctor. I was one of
the first million cases, when a
lot of people couldn’t rejuvenate
at all, and I had no trouble even
then.”</p>
<p class="c005">Cobb considered it, hesitated as
if making up his mind to be frank
against his better judgment. “I
can’t see any other explanation.
You’ve got a slight case of angina—nothing
serious, but quite definite—as
well as other signs
of aging. I’m afraid the treatment
didn’t take fully. It might have
been some unconscious block
on your part, some infection not
diagnosed at the time, or even a
fault in the treatment. That’s
pretty rare, but we can’t neglect
the possibility.”</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c007">HE STUDIED his charts again
and then smiled. “So we’ll
give you another treatment. Any
reason you can’t begin immediately?”</p>
<p class="c005">Giles remembered that Dubbins
was waiting for him, but this
was more important. It hadn’t
been a joke about his growing old,
after all. But now, in a few days,
he’d be his old—no, of course
not—his young self again!</p>
<p class="c005">They went down the hall to
another office, where Giles waited
outside while Cobb conferred
with another doctor and technician,
with much waving of charts.
He resented every second of it.
It was as if the almost forgotten
specter of age stood beside him,
counting the seconds. But at last
they were through and he was led
into the quiet rejuvenation room,
where the clamps were adjusted
about his head and the earpieces
were fitted. The drugs were shot
painlessly into his arm and the
light-pulser was adjusted to his
brain-wave pattern.</p>
<p class="c005">It had been nothing like this his
first time. Then it had required
months of mental training, followed
by crude mechanical and
drug hypnosis for other months.
Somewhere in every human brain
lay the memory of what his cells
had been like when he was young.
Or perhaps it lay in the cells
themselves, with the brain as only
a linkage to it. They’d discovered
that, and the fact that the mind
could effect physical changes in
the body. Even such things as
cancer could be willed out of existence—provided
the brain
could be reached far below the
conscious level and forced to
operate.</p>
<p class="c005">There had been impossible
faith cures for millenia—cataracts
removed from blinded eyes
within minutes, even—but finding
the mechanism in the brain
that worked those miracles had
taken an incredible amount of
study and finding a means of
bringing it under control had
taken even longer.</p>
<p class="c005">Now they did it with dozens of
mechanical aids in addition to
the hypnotic instructions—and
did it usually in a single sitting,
with the full transformation of
the body taking less than a week
after the treatment!</p>
<p class="c005">But with all the equipment, it
wasn’t impossible for a mistake
to happen. It had been no fault of
his ... he was sure of that ... his
mind was easy to reach ... he
could relax so easily....</p>
<p class="c005">He came out of it without
even a headache, while they were
removing the probes, but the
fatigue on the operator’s face told
him it had been a long and difficult
job. He stretched experimentally,
with the eternal unconscious
expectation that he would
find himself suddenly young
again. But that, of course, was ridiculous.
It took days for the mind
to work on all the cells and to
repair the damage of time.</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c007">COBB LED him back to the
first office, where he was given
an injection of some kind and
another sample of his blood was
taken, while the earlier tests were
repeated. But finally the doctor
nodded.</p>
<p class="c005">“That’s all for now, Mr. Giles.
You might drop in tomorrow
morning, after I’ve had a chance
to complete my study of all this.
We’ll know by then whether you’ll
need more treatment. Ten o’clock
okay?”</p>
<p class="c005">“But I’ll be all right?”</p>
<p class="c005">Cobb smiled the automatic reassurance
of his profession. “We
haven’t lost a patient in two hundred
years, to my knowledge.”</p>
<p class="c005">“Thanks,” said Giles. “Ten
o’clock is fine.”</p>
<p class="c005">Dubbins was still waiting, reading
a paper whose headlined feature
carried a glowing account of
the discovery of the super-light
missile and what it might mean.
He took a quick look at Giles and
pointed to it. “Great work, Mr.
Giles. Maybe we’ll all get to see
some of those other worlds yet.”
Then he studied Giles more carefully.
“Everything’s in good shape
now, sir?”</p>
<p class="c005">“The doctor says everything’s
going to be fine,” Giles answered.</p>
<p class="c005">It was then he realized for the
first time that Cobb had said no
such thing. A statement that
lightning had never struck a
house was no guarantee that it
never would. It was an evasion
meant to give such an impression.</p>
<p class="c005">The worry nagged at him all
the way back. Word had already
gone around the club that he’d
had some kind of attack and
there were endless questions that
kept it on his mind. And even
when it had been covered and
recovered, he could still sense the
glances of the others, as if he
were Vincenti in one of the man’s
more morose moods.</p>
<p class="c005">He found a single table in the
dining room and picked his way
through the meal, listening to
the conversation about him only
when it was necessary because
someone called across to him.
Ordinarily, he was quick to support
the idea of clubs in place
of private families. A man here
could choose his group and grow
into them. Yet he wasn’t swallowed
by them, as he might be by
a family. Giles had been living
here for nearly a century now and
he’d never regretted it. But tonight
his own group irritated him.</p>
<p class="c005">He puzzled over it, finding no
real reason. Certainly they weren’t
forcing themselves on him. He
remembered once when he’d had
a cold, before they finally licked
that; Harry had been a complete
nuisance, running around with
various nostrums, giving him no
peace. Constant questions about
how he felt, constant little looks
of worry—until he’d been ready
to yell at the boy. In fact, he
had.</p>
<p class="c005">Funny, he couldn’t picture really
losing his temper here. Families
did odd things to a man.</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c007">HE LISTENED to a few of
the discussions after the dinner,
but he’d heard them all before,
except for one about the
super-speed drive, and there he
had no wish to talk until he could
study the final report. He gave up
at last and went to his own suite.
What he needed was a good
night’s sleep after a little relaxation.</p>
<p class="c005">Even that failed him, though.
He’d developed one of the finest
chess collections in the world, but
tonight it held no interest. And
when he drew out his tools and
tried working on the delicate,
lovely jade for the set he was
carving his hands seemed to be
all thumbs. None of the other interests
he’d developed through
the years helped to add to the
richness of living now.</p>
<p class="c005">He gave it up and went to bed—to
have the fragment of that
song pop into his head. Now there
was no escaping it. Something
about the years—or was it days—dwindling
down to something
or other.</p>
<p class="c005">Could they really dwindle
down? Suppose he couldn’t rejuvenate
all the way? He knew
that there were some people who
didn’t respond as well as others.
Sol Graves, for instance. He’d
been fifty when he finally learned
how to work with the doctors and
they could only bring him back to
about thirty, instead of the normal
early twenties. Would that
reduce the slice of eternity that
rejuvenation meant? And what
had happened to Sol?</p>
<p class="c005">Or suppose it wasn’t rejuvenation,
after all; suppose something
had gone wrong with him
permanently?</p>
<p class="c005">He fought that off, but he
couldn’t escape the nagging
doubts at the doctor’s words.</p>
<p class="c005">He got up once to stare at himself
in the mirror. Ten hours had
gone by and there should have
been some signs of improvement.
He couldn’t be sure, though,
whether there were or not.</p>
<p class="c005">He looked no better the next
morning when he finally dragged
himself up from the little sleep
he’d managed to get. The hollows
were still there and the circles
under his eyes. He searched for
the gray in his hair, but the traitorous
strands had been removed
at the doctor’s office and he could
find no new ones.</p>
<p class="c005">He looked into the dining room
and then went by hastily. He
wanted no solicitous glances this
morning. Drat it, maybe he
should move out. Maybe trying
family life again would give him
some new interests. Amanda probably
would be willing to marry
him; she’d hinted at a date once.</p>
<p class="c005">He stopped, shocked by the
awareness that he hadn’t been out
with a woman for....</p>
<p class="c005">He couldn’t remember how
long it had been. Nor why.</p>
<p class="c005">“In the spring, a young man’s
fancy,” he quoted to himself, and
then shuddered.</p>
<p class="c005">It hadn’t been that kind of
spring for him—not this rejuvenation
nor the last, nor the one
before that.</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_2_0_6 c007">GILES TRIED to stop scaring
himself and partially succeeded,
until he reached the doctor’s
office. Then it was no longer necessary
to frighten himself. The
wrongness was too strong, no matter
how professional Cobb’s smile!</p>
<p class="c005">He didn’t hear the preliminary
words. He watched the smile vanish
as the stack of reports came
out. There was no nurse here
now. The machines were quiet—and
all the doors were shut.</p>
<p class="c005">Giles shook his head, interrupting
the doctor’s technical jargon.
Now that he knew there was reason
for his fear, it seemed to
vanish, leaving a coldness that
numbed him.</p>
<p class="c005">“I’d rather know the whole
truth,” he said. His voice sounded
dead in his ears. “The worst first.
The rejuvenation...?”</p>
<p class="c005">Cobb sighed and yet seemed relieved.
“Failed.” He stopped, and
his hands touched the reports on
his desk. “Completely,” he added
in a low, defeated tone.</p>
<p class="c005">“But I thought that was impossible!”</p>
<p class="c005">“So did I. I wouldn’t believe
it even yet—but now I find it
isn’t the first case. I spent the
night at Medical Center going up
the ranks until I found men who
really know about it. And now I
wish I hadn’t.” His voice ran
down and he gathered himself together
by an effort. “It’s a shock
to me, too, Mr. Giles. But—well,
to simplify it, no memory is perfect—even
cellular memory. It
loses a little each time. And the
effect is cumulative. It’s like an
asymptotic curve—the further it
goes, the steeper the curve. And—well,
you’ve passed too far.”</p>
<p class="c005">He faced away from Giles,
dropping the reports into a
drawer and locking it. “I wasn’t
supposed to tell you, of course.
It’s going to be tough enough
when they’re ready to let people
know. But you aren’t the first and
you won’t be the last, if that’s any
consolation. We’ve got a longer
time scale than we used to have—but
it’s in centuries, not in
eons. For everybody, not just
you.”</p>
<p class="c005">It was no consolation. Giles
nodded mechanically. “I won’t
talk, of course. How—how long?”</p>
<p class="c005">Cobb spread his hands unhappily.
“Thirty years, maybe. But
we can make them better. Geriatric
knowledge is still on record.
We can fix the heart and all the
rest. You’ll be in good physical
condition, better than your grandfather—”</p>
<p class="c005">“And then....” Giles couldn’t
pronounce the words. He’d grown
old and he’d grow older. And
eventually he’d die!</p>
<p class="c005">An immortal man had suddenly
found death hovering on his
trail. The years had dwindled and
gone, and only a few were left.</p>
<p class="c005">He stood up, holding out his
hand. “Thank you, Doctor,” he
said, and was surprised to find
he meant it. The man had done
all he could and had at least
saved him the suspense of growing
doubt and horrible eventual
discovery.</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c007">OUTSIDE ON the street, he
looked up at the Sun and
then at the buildings built to last
for thousands of years. Their
eternity was no longer a part of
him.</p>
<p class="c005">Even his car would outlast him.</p>
<p class="c005">He climbed into it, still partly
numbed, and began driving mechanically,
no longer wondering
about the dangers that might possibly
arise. Those wouldn’t matter
much now. For a man who
had thought of living almost forever,
thirty years was too short
a time to count.</p>
<p class="c005">He was passing near the club
and started to slow. Then he
went on without stopping. He
wanted no chance to have them
asking questions he couldn’t answer.
It was none of their business.
Dubbins had been kind—but
now Giles wanted no kindness.</p>
<p class="c005">The street led to the office
and he drove on. What else was
there for him? There, at least, he
could still fill his time with work—work
that might even be useful.
In the future, men would
need the super-light drive if they
were to span much more of the
Universe than now. And he could
speed up the work in some ways
still, even if he could never see
its finish.</p>
<p class="c005">It would be cold comfort but it
was something. And he might
keep busy enough to forget sometimes
that the years were gone
for him.</p>
<p class="c005">Automatic habit carried him
through the office again, to Amanda’s
desk, where her worry was
still riding her. He managed a
grin and somehow the right words
came to his lips. “I saw the doctor,
Amanda, so you can stop
figuring ways to get me there.”</p>
<p class="c005">She smiled back suddenly, without
feigning it. “Then you’re all
right?”</p>
<p class="c005">“As all right as I’ll ever be,”
he told her. “They tell me I’m just
growing old.”</p>
<p class="c005">This time her laugh was heartier.
He caught himself before he
could echo her mirth in a different
voice and went inside where she
had the coffee waiting for him.</p>
<p class="c005">Oddly, it still tasted good to
him.</p>
<p class="c005">The projection was off, he saw,
wondering whether he’d left it on
or not. He snapped the switch and
saw the screen light up, with the
people still in the odd, wheelless
vehicle on the alien planet.</p>
<hr class="c006">
<p class="drop-capa0_3_0_6 c007">FOR A long moment, he stared
at the picture without thinking,
and then bent closer. Harry’s
face hadn’t changed much. Giles
had almost forgotten it, but there
was still the same grin there. And
his grandchildren had a touch
of it, too. And of their grandfather’s
nose, he thought. Funny,
he’d never seen even pictures of
his other grandchildren. Family
ties melted away too fast for interstellar
travel.</p>
<p class="c005">Yet there seemed to be no
slackening of them in Harry’s
case, and somehow it looked like
a family, rather than a mere
group. A very pleasant family in
a very pleasant world.</p>
<p class="c005">He read Harry’s note again,
with its praise for the planet and
its invitation. He wondered if
Dr. Vincenti had received an invitation
like that, before he left.
Or had he even been one of those
to whom the same report had
been delivered by some doctor?
It didn’t matter, but it would explain
things, at least.</p>
<p class="c005">Twenty years to Centaurus,
while the years dwindled down—</p>
<p class="c005">Then abruptly the line finished
itself. “The years dwindle down
to a precious few....” he remembered.
“A precious few.”</p>
<p class="c005">Those dwindling years had
been precious once. He unexpectedly
recalled his own grandfather
holding him on an old
knee and slipping him candy
that was forbidden. The years
seemed precious to the old man
then.</p>
<p class="c005">Amanda’s voice came abruptly
over the intercom. “Jordan wants
to talk to you,” she said, and the
irritation was sharp in her voice.
“He won’t take no!”</p>
<p class="c005">Giles shrugged and reached for
the projector, to cut it off. Then,
on impulse, he set it back to the
picture, studying the group again
as he switched on Jordan’s wire.</p>
<p class="c005">But he didn’t wait for the hot
words about whatever was the
trouble.</p>
<p class="c005">“Bill,” he said, “start getting
the big ship into production. I’ve
found a volunteer.”</p>
<p class="c005">He’d been driven to it, he knew,
as he watched the man’s amazed
face snap from the screen. From
the first suspicion of his trouble,
something inside him had been
forcing him to make this decision.
And maybe it would do no good.
Maybe the ship would fail. But
thirty years was a number a man
could risk.</p>
<p class="c005">If he made it, though....</p>
<p class="c005">Well, he’d see those grandchildren
of his this year—and
Harry. Maybe he’d even tell
Harry the truth, once they got
done celebrating the reunion. And
there’d be other grandchildren.
With the ship, he’d have time
enough to look them up. Plenty
of time!</p>
<p class="c005">Thirty years was a long time,
when he stopped to think of it.</p>
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