There are moments in life— horrifying moments — when the world seems to stand still. Such a moment came to Crystal Locke a couple of weeks later in the middle of one of her seminars at Fisk International as she spoke to a roomful of insurance executives, giving them instructions on the operation of their new A-C 1100 computer. Fred and Sylvia Ritter were there, of course, while Crystal lectured in top form.
A couple of men came into the room and went to the Ritters. They didn’t look like insurance people to Crystal. Furthermore, she saw two uniformed policemen hovering in the door behind them…
As she talked, the two men spoke quietly to both Ritters… then led them from the room. Fred looked white in the face. Sylvia’s dark eyes became shocked in deep terror. The plain clothes officers removed the couple from the room…
A half hour later, lecture finished, Crystal was summoned back to the A-C headquarters to face the president of her company.
She was in a state of shock, not having been able to find out why the Ritters were arrested.
“Crystal, I’m afraid there’s bad news,” Mr. Johnson said. “Your course of lectures at Fisk International will have to be suspended for a short period.”
“What— what happened? I saw policemen there. They arrested the Ritters.”
“They were arrested for fraud, Crystal. They were pretty high up— the top brass is in a state of shock.”
Mr. Johnson told her the Ritters had been faking policies, paying the premiums with false loans and milking the company treasury. They had done the same thing in a smaller Chicago company and had moved to New York to spread out in a big way.
“Thank God they didn’t have time to run any of this stuff into our computer over there, Crystal. It could’ve made us look bad. I’ve spoken to the programmers and they haven’t been near the machine. Just the same I’m having our security man run a check on their machine.”
“Who— who is that?”
“Now, Crystal, it’s better that you don’t know the name of the man who runs our computer security.”
She escaped from Mr. Johnson’s office as fast as she could and tore off for her apartment and her computer keyboard. The Ritters hadn’t been near the A-C 1100— they didn’t have to go near it. She’d already fed all of the information into the machine for their con game. The programmers wouldn’t catch it — but Gunnar Strand certainly would.
She dashed into her apartment building and almost died waiting for the elevator to take her to her floor. She had a disaster circuit that would cancel every bit of information she’d fed into the machine. If she could only clear the machine before those fake policies were discovered. She almost jumped out of her skin in terror, waiting for the elevator to stop. Hurry, please, hurry…
She literally ripped the door of her apartment open, dashed across the living room to the typewriter terminal, and turned the machine on.
“Starshell to Fisk International,” she typed.
“Hello,Starshell. This Is F.i.”
“Goodbye, Hakluyt,” she typed.
That was the kill instruction. In seconds the big machine would wipe out every instruction she’d given it and she would be clear. All her emergency instruction had to be was some phrase that would never in a million years be used by some programmer.
She sat back waiting for the acknowledgment. Once she got that, she had further instructed the machine to blank out all reference to Starshell. To the machine it would be as if the Starshell subroutine had never existed.
Her keyboard remained silent.
“Damn!”
She repeated the instruction. There was another long stretch of silence, then her keyboard clattered: “Starshell information remains intact. you are a stupid bitch. This is DARKSTAR!”
She gave a moan and beat her fists on the desk in a rage of impotence.
Gunnar opened the door of her apartment to face Crystal. The platinum blonde looked like death warmed over.
“Gunnar— why don’t you let me clear the Fisk machine? I’ll be arr-arr-arrested.”
He waved her into his apartment with a cool smile.
“Why, child, have you been playing keyboard games again with those horrible Ritter people?”
“You know I have, you bastard. You can save me by clearing the machine for me.”
“That’s true. Also, I doubt the Ritters would tell on you. They’re old pros and wouldn’t pull you in. Furthermore, even if they tried to, it would require the Starshell tape to get you in trouble. You’re well thought of, so without evidence, no one would believe the Ritters.”
“So help me, Gunnar. Help me!”
“Oh, I will, I will. Providing you help me first.”
“What— do you want?”
“Well, Leaf has left me. Yes, indeed. She eloped back to her simple Pennsylvania town with a young bank teller. This life proved too much for her. She told me she spent more time on her back than on her feet. I think she made the right decision. New York’s not for everybody. But I’ve been lonely…”
“Gunnar, dammit, those programmers could be digging into the machine’s memory right this minute. Don’t forget DARKSTAR is in there, too. I want those signals erased within the hour. So get to the point.”
“Very well. But, remember, you were the one who wanted direct, fast action. Go into my bedroom and take off your clothes.”
“What!— Oh, Gunnar!”
Minutes later, she was in Gunnar’s small bedroom completely naked. She wanted to weep. She wanted to scream. Like all crazy stupid men, sex came first, even when the ship was sinking. She never felt less like sex in her life.
“Are you indecent?” called Gunnar from the other side of the door.
“I’m stripped,” she said gloomily.
Gunnar walked into the room, leading a complete stranger, a young man dressed in pajamas, who had a beard and looked sleepy.
“Crystal, this is Robert Gardner, my house guest. Bob, this is Crystal. I wanted you to meet under proper conditions, but Crystal is in a great hurry today. She wants no frills.”
She gave a shriek, sat up, and grabbed a pillow to cover her nudity. Young Mr. Gardner looked as shocked as she was, but his face lit up when he got the flash of her nude body before she could cover it.
“Just got in from Europe,” said Gardner. “Jet lag. That’s why I’ve been sleeping in the other bedroom in the middle of the afternoon.”
“Remember, Crystal,” said Gunnar, “you want me to hurry things up. Be direct.”
“Gunnar…”
“We’re both going to fuck Miss Locke,” said Gunnar to Bob Gardner. “I’ll go first. Then we’ll all go out to dinner, maybe catch a show, and you can have your fuck later tonight, Bob, if that’s all right with you.”
Crystal screamed and young Gardner said, “Holy shit— uh-excuse me, Miss Locke. I better get out of here.”
He gave Gunnar a look, as if Gunnar were insane, and fled. At least he had the decency to do that.
“Gunnar, if you think…”
“Oh, I know, I know, baby. Before I clear that rot of yours out of the Fisk computer I’m going to ball you and then turn you over to my house guest, since he has no local friends and is, no doubt, horny.”
She sprang off the bed, clawing at him in a furious rage. He piled humiliation on top of humiliation on her. He’d finally exceeded her limit.
He defended himself, laughing.
“All this does is make me hard, Crystal. Remember, you’re naked.”
“Not for long, you bastard. You’ve gone too far. I’ll take the police. I’ll take jail. I’ll take twenty years!”
She gave him a terrific slap on the face, grabbed her clothes, ducked under his arm and left, weeping, dressing as she went. Once decent, she slammed out of his apartment and returned to her own in the building
