29

Blaine made an automatic move backwards toward the door, but Orc beckoned him in. The body snatcher was unchanged, still very tall and thin, his tanned face long and mournful, his eyes narrow, direct and honest. His clothes still hung awkwardly on him, as though he were more used to levis than to tailored slacks.

“We were expecting you,” Orc said. “Of course you remember Joe.”

Blaine nodded, remembering very well the furtive-eyed little man who had distracted his attention so that Orc could drug his drink.

“Happy to see you again,” Joe said.

“I'll bet,” Blaine said, not moving from the door.

“Come in and sit down,” Orc said. “We ain't planning to eat you, Tom. Truly not. Let's let bygones be bygones.”

“You tried to kill me.”

“That was business,” Orc said in his straightforward fashion. “We’re on the same side now.”

“How can I be sure of that?”

“No man,” Orc stated, “has ever questioned my honesty. Not when I'm really being honest, which I am now. Miss Thorne hired us to get you safe out of the country, and we intend to do same. Sit down and let's discuss it. Are you hungry?”

Reluctantly Blaine sat down. There were sandwiches on a table, and a bottle of red wine. He realized that he hadn't eaten all day. He started wolfing down sandwiches while Orc lighted a thin brown cigar, and Joe appeared to be dozing.

“You know,” Orc said, exhaling blue smoke, “I very nearly didn't take this job. Not that the money wasn't right; I think Miss Thorne was more than generous. But Tom, this is one of the biggest manhunts our fair city's seen for a while. Ever see anything like it, Joe?”

“Never,” Joe said, shaking his head rapidly. “Town's covered like flypaper.”

“Rex really wants you,” Orc said. “They've set their little hearts on nailing your corpus where they can see it. Makes a man nervous, bucking an organization that size. But it's a challenge, a real man-sized challenge.”

“Carl likes a big challenge,” Joe said.

“I admit that,” Orc said. “Particularly if there's a big profit to be made from it.”

“But where can I go?” Blaine asked. “Where won't Rex find me?”

“Just about nowhere,” Orc said sadly.

“Off the Earth? Mars? Venus?”

“Even worse. The planets have just a few towns and small cities. Everybody knows everybody else. The news would be all over in a week. Also, you wouldn't fit in. Aside from the Chinese on Mars, the planets are still populated mostly with scientific types and their families, and a few youth-training programs. You wouldn't like it.”

“Where, then?”

“That's what I asked Miss Thorne,” Orc said. “We discussed several possibilities. First, there's a zombie-making operation. I could perform it. Rex would never search for you underground.”

“I'd rather die,” Blaine said.

“I would too,” Orc agreed. “So we ruled it out. We thought about finding you a little farm in the Atlantic Abyss. Pretty lonely territory out there. But it takes a special mentality to live undersea and like it, and we didn't figure you had it. You'd probably crack up. So, after due consideration, we decided the best place for you was in the Marquesas.”

“The what?”

“The Marquesas. They’re a scattered group of small islands, originally Polynesian, out towards the middle of the Pacific Ocean. They’re not too far from Tahiti.”

“The South Seas,” Blaine said.

“Right. We figured you should feel more at home there than anywhere else on Earth. It's just like the 20th century, I'm told. And even more important, Rex might leave you alone.”

“Why would they?”

“For obvious reasons, Tom. Why do they want to kill you in the first place? Because they snatched you illegally from the past and they’re worried about what the government's going to do about it. But your going to the Marquesas removes you from the jurisdiction of the U.S. government. Without you, there's no case. And your going so far is a sign to Rex of your good faith. It certainly isn't the act of a man who's going to blab to Uncle Sam. Also, the Marquesas are an independent little nation since the French gave them up, so Rex would have to get special permission to hunt you there. On the whole, it should be just too much trouble for everyone concerned. The U.S. government will undoubtedly drop the matter, and I think Rex will leave you alone.”

“Is that certain?” Blaine asked.

“Of course not. It's conjecture. But it's reasonable.”

“Couldn't we make a deal with Rex beforehand?”

Orc shook his head. “In order to bargain, Tom, you have to have something to bargain with. As long as you’re in New York, it's easier and safer for them to kill you.”

“I guess you’re right,” Blaine said. “How are you going to get me out?”

Orc and Joe looked at each other uncomfortably. Orc said, “Well, that was our big problem. There just didn't seem to be any way of getting you out alive”

“Heli or jet?”

“They have to stop at the air tolls, and hunters are waiting at all of them. Surface vehicle is equally out of the question.”

“Disguise?”

“Maybe it would have worked during the first hour of the hunt. Now it's impossible, even if we could get you a complete plastic surgery job. By now the hunters are equipped with identity scanners. They'd see through you in a moment.”

“Then there's no way out?” Blaine asked.

Orc and Joe exchanged another uneasy glance. “There is,” Orc said. “Just one way. But you probably won't like it.”

“I like to stay alive. What is it?”

Orc paused and lighted another cigar. “We plan to quick-freeze you to near absolute zero, like for spaceship travel. Then we'll ship your carcass out in a crate of frozen beef. Your body will be in the center of the load, so most likely it won't be detected.”

“Sounds risky,” Blaine said.

“Not too risky,” Orc said.

Blaine frowned, sensing something wrong. “I'll be unconscious through it, won't I?”

After a long pause. Orc said, “No.”

“I won't?”

“It can't be done that way,” Orc told him. “The fact is, you and your body will have to separate. That's the part I'm afraid you won't like.”

“What in hell are you talking about?” Blaine asked, getting to his feet.

“Take it easy,” Orc said. “Sit down, smoke a cigarette, have some more wine. It's like this, Tom. We can't ship out a quick-frozen body with a mind in it. The hunters are waiting for something like that. Can you imagine what happens when they run a quick scan over that shipment of beef and detect a dormant mind in it? Up goes the kite! Adieu la musique! I'm not trying to con you, Tom. It just can't be done like that.”

“Then what happens to my mind?” Blaine asked, sitting down again.

“That,” Orc said, “is where Joe comes in. Tell him, Joe.”

Joe nodded rapidly. “Transplant, my friend, is the answer.”

“Transplant?”

“I told you about it,” Joe said, “on that inauspicious evening when we first met. Remember? Transplant, the great pastime, the game any number can play, the jolt for jaded minds, the tonic for tired bodies. We've got a worldwide network of Transplantees, Mr. Blaine. Folks who like to switch around, men and women who get tired of switch around, men and women who get tired of wearing the same old body. We’re going to key you into the organization.”

“You’re going to ship my mind across the country?” Blaine asked.

“That's it! From body to body,” Joe told him. “Believe me, it's instructive as well as entertaining.”

Blaine got to his feet so quickly that he knocked over his chair. “Like hell!” he said, “I told you then and I'm telling you now, I'm not playing your lousy little game. I'll take my chances on the street.”

He started toward the door.

Joe said, “I know it's a little frightening, but —”

“No!”

Orc shouted, “Damn it, Blaine, will you at least let the man speak?”