Infinity's Child
By Charles V. DeVet
"You must kill Koski," the leader said.
"But I'll be dead before I get there," Buckmaster replied.
"What's that got to do with it?" the leader wanted to know.
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, May 1952.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The sense of taste was always first to go. For a week Buckmaster had ignored the fact that everything he ate tasted like flavorless gruel. He tried to make himself believe that it was some minor disorder of his glandular system. But the eighth day his second sense—that of feeling—left him and he staggered to his telephone in blind panic. There was no doubt now but that he had the dread Plague. He was glad he had taken the precaution of isolating himself from his family. He knew there was no hope for him now.
They sent the black wagon for him.
In the hospital he found himself herded with several hundred others into a ward designed to hold less than a hundred. The beds were crowded together and he could have reached to either side of him and touched another ravaged victim of the Plague.
Next to go would be his sense of sight. Hope was a dead thing within him. Even to think of hoping made him realize how futile it would be.