The Furious Rose
By DEAN EVANS
Illustrated by THORNE
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Science Fiction January 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
This world was a setup for any man who wanted to get
along—provided one had enough victims to toss to the wolves!
The Master Clock on the black desk in the office of FederalExecutions made a quiet blipping sound. Immediately the lights loweredto Emote Neutral. Long, probing shadow fingers snaked here and thereacross the floor, and a silence that should have been restful—andwasn't—descended on the place.
Tony Radek leaned back in his chair and frowned. One-fifteen in themorning. At one-fifteen in the morning no man, no matter who, should begoing to his Neg-Emote. Why not hang a man instead? Or electrocute him?Or gas him the way they used to back in the old days? In those old dayshis grandfather used to talk about, where twelve ordinary citizens saidthe word that peeled the life off a man like skinning an onion.
He sighed softly and folded his hands across a tiny paunch that wasjust beginning to show. Tony Radek was getting old. He was a "safe"now. That meant he needn't worry about the war any longer. He wasa nice, mild, peaceable gentleman who stayed at home and thoughtbeautiful thoughts about the younger men out in space. A man his agedidn't feel anger and hate and retribution and lust and treachery anymore. He was just a little old fat guy. He was the Federal Executioner.
He frowned again and leaned forward and touched a nacre button on thedesk top. That lit up the screen on his left. Not the Master Screen,which was the one on his right. This was the other, the one that couldtell him what was going on outside the office, outside in PortalWaiting, where certain peculiar ghouls who derived a measure ofexcitement from the executions were allowed by the gracious State tohang out.
He stared at the screen. His frown deepened. Portal Waiting should bebare and vacant at this hour, but it wasn't. This was the third nightin a row that it wasn't. There was a girl out there. A quiet girl, agirl who looked about as ghoulish as one of the nice red ritual rosesover in the cooler built into the wall.
Damn the dame, why didn't she go home? Tony Radek's upper lip lifteda little, showing small angry teeth.
At once the Emote Neutral lights in the office flickered wildly. Tonypulled his eyes from the screen and glared up at the lights. That'sprogress for you. Let a man go on one little momentary emotionalbinge, like this, and right away spies in the joint start screaming.In a moment now, the one on his right—the Master Screen—would blinkinto life and old hell-hips himself would start poking around askingquestions. Just see if it didn't.
He turned his head to the right, stared at the Master Screen and waited.
The screen blazed into life. A narrow-faced man with washed-away eyesthat looked as though they'd seen sin and hadn't liked it peeredangrily over toward Tony behind the desk.
"Mr. Radek!" he had a thin, thin voice that sounded like a sheet ofpaper slitting down the middle. "What's going on down there? Can't youcontrol your own office? Or maybe you'd like to be back in Training?"The