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Hensley + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: right; font-weight: normal; line-height: 2em;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .bk1 {margin: 1em auto 3em; border-top: solid 2px; border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bk2 {float: left; width: 15em; margin: 1em 2em 1em 0;} + .pr1 {line-height: 1.5em; margin-top: 4em;} + img {border: none;} + a:link,a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + .figt {float: left; clear: left; margin: 15px; padding: 0; width: 147px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; min-height: 230px;} + .trn p {margin: 15px;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 1em auto; visibility: hidden;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Now We Are Three, by Joe L. Hensley + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Now We Are Three + +Author: Joe L. Hensley + +Release Date: July 2, 2009 [EBook #29290] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOW WE ARE THREE *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bk1"><p><i><small>Where are we going? What will the world be like in the days—perhaps +not too distant—when we have tested and tested the bombs to the finite +degree? Joe L. Hensley, attorney in Madison, Indiana, and increasingly +well known in SF, returns with this challenging story of that Tomorrow.</small></i></p></div> + +<div class="bk2"><h1><b>now<br /> +we<br /> +are<br /> +three</b></h1> + +<h2><small><i>by Joe L. Hensley</i></small></h2> + +<p class="pr1"><big><b>It didn't matter that he had quit. He was still one of the +guilty. He had seen it in her eyes and in the eyes of others.</b></big></p></div> + +<p><span class="dcap">John Rush</span> smoothed +the covers over his wife, tucking +them in where her restless +moving had pulled them +away from the mattress. The +twins moved beside him, their +smooth hands following his in +the task, their blind eyes intent +on nothingness.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," he said softly +to them, knowing they could +not hear him. But it made him +feel better to talk.</p> + +<p>His wife, Mary, was quiet. +Her breathing was smooth, +easy—almost as if she were +sleeping.</p> + +<p><i>The long sleep.</i></p> + +<p>He touched her forehead, +but it was cool. The doctor +had said it was a miracle she +had lived this long. He stood +away from the bed for a moment +watching before he went +on out to the porch. The +twins moved back into what +had become a normal position +for them in the past months: +One on each side of the bed, +their thin hands holding +Mary's tightly, the milky +blind eyes surveying something +that could not be seen +by his eyes. Sometimes they +would stand like this for +hours.</p> + +<p>Outside the evening was +cool, the light not quite gone. +He sat in the rocking chair +and waited for the doctor +who had promised to come—and +yet might not come. The +bitterness came back, the self-hate. +He remembered a young +man and promises made, but +not kept; a girl who had believed +and never lost faith +even when he had retreated +back to the land away from +everything. Long sullen silences, +self-pity, brooding over +the news stories that got +worse and worse. And the +children—one born dead—two +born deaf and dumb and +blind.</p> + +<p><i>Worse than dead.</i></p> + +<p>You helped, he accused +himself. You worked for +those who set off the bombs +and tested and tested while +the cycle went up and up beyond +human tolerance—not +the death level, but the level +where nothing was sure again, +the level that made cancer a +thing of epidemic proportions, +replacing statistically +all of the insane multitude of +things that man could do to +kill himself. Even the good +things that the atom had +brought were destroyed in +the panic that ensued. No +matter that you quit. You are +still one of the guilty. You +have seen it hidden in her +eyes and you have seen it in +the milky eyes of the twins.</p> + +<p><i>Worse than dead.</i></p> + +<p>Dusk became night and finally +the doctor came. It had +begun to lightning and a few +large drops of rain stroked +Rush's cheek. Not a +good year for the farming he +had retreated to. Not a good +year for anything. He stood +to greet the doctor and the +other man with him.</p> + +<p>"Good evening, doctor," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Rush—" the doctor +shook hands gingerly, "I hope +you don't mind me bringing +someone along—this is Mr. +North. He is with the County +Juvenile Office." The young +doctor smiled. "How is the +patient this evening?"</p> + +<p>"She is the same," John +Rush said to the doctor. He +turned to the other man, +keeping his face emotionless, +hands at his side. He had expected +this for some time. "I +think you will be wanting to +look at the twins. They are +by her bed." He opened the +door and motioned them in +and then followed.</p> + +<p>He heard the Juvenile man +catch his breath a little. The +twins were playing again. +They had left their vigil at +the bedside and they were +moving swiftly around the +small living room, their +hands and arms and legs moving +in some synchronized +game that had no meaning—their +movements quick and +sure—their faces showing +some intensity, some purpose. +They moved with grace, +avoiding obstructions.</p> + +<p>"I thought these children +were blind," Mr. North said.</p> + +<p>John smiled a little. "It is +unnerving. I have seen them +play like this before—though +they have not done so for a +long time—since my wife has +been ill." He lowered his +head. "They are blind, deaf, +and dumb."</p> + +<p>"How old are they?"</p> + +<p>"Twelve."</p> + +<p>"They do not seem to be +more than eight—nine at the +most."</p> + +<p>"They have been well fed," +John said softly.</p> + +<p>"How about schooling, Mr. +Rush? The teaching of handicapped +children is not something +that can be done by a +person untrained in the +field."</p> + +<p>"I have three degrees, Mr. +North. When my wife became +ill and I began to care +for them I taught them to +read braille. They picked it +up very quickly, though they +showed little continued interest +in it. I read a number +of books in the field of teaching +handicapped children ..." +He let it trail off.</p> + +<p>"Your degrees were in +physics, were they not, Mr. +Rush?" Now the touch of +malice came.</p> + +<p>"That is correct." He sat +down in one of the wooden +chairs. "I quit working long +before the witch hunts came. +I was never indicted."</p> + +<p>"Nevertheless your degrees +are no longer bona fide. All +such degrees have been +stricken from the records." +He looked down and John +saw that his eyes no longer +hid the hate. "If your wife +dies I doubt that any court +would allow you to keep custody +of these children."</p> + +<p>A year before—even six +months and John would not +have protested. Now he had +to make the effort. "They are +my children—such as they are—and +I will fight any attempt +to take them from me."</p> + +<p>The Juvenile Man smiled +without humor. "My wife and +I had a child last year, Mr. +Rush. Or perhaps I should +say that a child was born to +us. I am glad that child was +born dead—I think my wife +is even glad. Perhaps we +should try again—I understand +that you and your kind +have left us an even chance +on a normal birth." He +paused for a moment. "I +shall file a petition with the +circuit court asking that the +Juvenile Office be appointed +guardians of your children, +Mr. Rush. I hope you do not +choose to resist that petition—feeling +would run pretty +high against an ex-physicist +who tried to prove he <i>deserved</i> +children." He turned +away stiffly and went out the +front door. In a little while +Rush heard the car door slam +decisively.</p> + +<p>The doctor was replacing +things in the black bag. "I'm +sorry, John. He said he was +going to come out here anyway +so I invited him to come +with me."</p> + +<p>John nodded. "My wife?"</p> + +<p>"There is no change."</p> + +<p>"And no chance."</p> + +<p>"There never has been one. +The brain tumor is too large +and too inaccessible for treatment +or surgery. It will be +soon now. I am surprised that +she has lasted this long. I am +prolonging a sure process." +He turned away. "That's all I +can do."</p> + +<p>"Thank you for coming, +doctor—I appreciate that." +Rush smiled bitterly, unable +to stop himself. "But aren't +you afraid that your other +patients will find out?"</p> + +<p>The doctor stopped, his +face paling slightly. "I took +an oath when I graduated +from medical school. Sometimes +I want to break that +oath, but I have not so far." +He paused. "Try as I may I +cannot blame them for hating +you. You know why."</p> + +<p>Rush wanted to laugh and +cry at the same time. "Don't +you realize that the government +that punished the men +I worked with for their 'criminal +negligence' is the same +government that commissioned +them to do that work—that +officials were warned +and rewarned of the things +that small increases in radiation +might do and that such +things might not show up immediately—and +yet they ordered +us ahead?" He stopped +for a moment and put his +head down, touching his work-roughened +hands to his eyes. +"They put us in prison for +refusing to do a job or investigated +us until no one could +or would trust us in civilian +jobs—then when it was done +they put us in prison or worse +because the very things we +warned them of came true."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps that is true," the +doctor said stiffly, "but the +choice of refusing was still +possible."</p> + +<p>"Some of us did refuse to +work," Rush said softly. "I +did, for one. Perhaps you +think that we alone will bear +the blame. You are wrong. +Sooner or later the stigma +will spread to all of the sciences—and +to you, doctor. +Too many now that you can't +save; in a little while the hate +will surround you also. When +we are gone and they must +find something new to hate +they will blame you for every +malformed baby and every +death. You think that one of +you will find a cure for this +thing. Perhaps you would if +you had a hundred years or a +thousand years, but you +haven't. They killed a man on +the street in New York the +other day because he was +wearing a white laboratory +smock. What do you wear in +your office, doctor? Hate-blind +eyes can't tell the difference: +Physicist, chemist, +doctor.... We all look the +same to a fool. Even if there +were a cancer cure that is +only a part of the problem. +There are the babies. Your +science cannot cope with the +cause—only mine can do +that."</p> + +<p>The doctor lowered his +head and turned away toward +the door.</p> + +<p>There was another thing +left to say: "If the plumbing +went bad in your home, doctor, +you would call a plumber, +for he would be the one competent +to fix it." Rush shook +his head slowly. "But what +happens when there are no +plumbers left?"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The children were by +the bed, their hands holding +those of the mother. Gently +John Rush tugged those +hands away and led them toward +their own bed. The +small hands were cold in his +own and he felt a tiny feeling +of revulsion as they tightened. +Then the feeling +slipped away and was replaced—as +if a current had +crossed from their hands to +his. It was a warm feeling—one +that he had known before +when they touched him, but +for which he had never been +able to find mental words to +express the sensation.</p> + +<p>Slowly he helped them undress. +When they were in the +single bed he covered them +with the top sheet. Their +milky eyes surveyed him, unseeing, +somehow withdrawn.</p> + +<p>"I have not known you +well," he said. "I left that to +her. I have sat and brooded +and buried myself in the +earth until it is too late for +much else." He touched the +small heads. "I wish you +could hear me. I wish ..."</p> + +<p>Outside on the road a +truck roared past. Instinctively +he set to hear it. The faces +below him did not change.</p> + +<p>He turned away quickly +then and went back out on +the porch. He filled his pipe +and sat down in the old, +creaky rocker. A tiny rain had +begun to fall hesitantly—as +if afraid of striking the sun-hardened +ground.</p> + +<p><i>Somewhere out there, somewhere +hunted, but not found, +the plumbers gathered. There +had been a man—what was +his name? Masser—that was +it. He had been working on a +way to inhibit radioactivity—speed +up the half-life until +they had taken the grant +away. If a man can do whatever +he thinks of—can he undo +that which he has done?</i></p> + +<p><i>Masser was the theoreticist—I +was the applier, the one +who translated equations into +cold blueprints. And I was +good until they ...</i></p> + +<p>They had hounded him +back to the land when he quit. +Others had not been so lucky. +When a whole people panic +then an object for their hate +must be found. A naming. An +immediate object. He remembered +the newspaper story +that began: "They lynched +twelve men, twelve ex-men, +in New Mexico last night ..."</p> + +<p><i>Have I been wrong? Have +I done the right thing?</i> He +remembered the tiny hands in +his own, the blind eyes.</p> + +<p><i>Those hands. Why do they +make me feel like ...</i></p> + +<p>He let his head slide back +against the padded top of the +rocking chair and fell into a +light, uneasy sleep.</p> + +<p>The dreams came as they +had before. Tiny, inhumanly +capable hands clutched at +him and the sun was hot +above. There was a background +sound of hydrogen +bombs, heard mutely. He +looked down at the hands +that touched and asked something +of his own. The eyes +were not milky now. They +stared up at him, alert and +questioning. <i>What is it you +want?</i></p> + +<p>The wind tore holes in tiny +voices and there was the +sound of laughter and his +wife's eyes were looking into +his own, sorry only for him, +at peace with the rest. And +they formed a ring around +him, those three, hands +caught together, enclosing +him. <i>What is it you are saying?</i></p> + +<p>It seemed to him that the +words would come clear, but +the rain came then, great torrents +of it, washing all away, +all sight and sound....</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>He awoke and only the rain +was true. The tiny rain had +increased to a wind-driven +downpour and he was soaked +where it had blown under the +eaves onto the porch.</p> + +<p>From inside the house he +heard a cry.</p> + +<p>She was sitting upright in +bed. Her eyes were open and +full of pain. He went quickly +to her and touched her pulse. +It was faint and reedy.</p> + +<p>"I hurt," she whispered.</p> + +<p>Quickly, as the doctor had +taught him, he made up a shot +of morphine, a full quarter +grain, and gave it to her. Her +eyes glazed down, but did not +close.</p> + +<p>"John," she said softly, +"the children ... they ... talk +to ..." She twisted on the bed +and he held her with strong +arms until the eyes closed +again and her breathing became +easy. He pushed the ruffled +hair back from her eyes +and straightened the awry +sheets.</p> + +<p>The vibration of his walking +might have wakened the +twins. He tiptoed to <i>their</i> bed—for +they refused to be parted +even in sleep.</p> + +<p>For a second he thought +that the small night-light had +tricked him by shadows on +shadows. He reached down to +touch ...</p> + +<p>They were gone.</p> + +<p>He fought down sudden +panic. Where can two children, +deaf and dumb and blind +go in the middle of the night?</p> + +<p>Not far.</p> + +<p>He opened the door to the +kitchen, hand-hunted for the +hanging light. They were not +there—nor were they on the +small back porch. The panic +passed critical mass, exploded +out of control. He lurched +back into the combination living +room, bed room. He +looked under all of the beds +and into the small closet—everywhere +that two children +might conceal themselves.</p> + +<p>Outside the rain had increased. +He peered out into +the lightning night. A truck +horn blew ominously far down +the road.</p> + +<p>The road?</p> + +<p>He slogged through the +mud, instantly soaking as +soon as he was out of shelter, +not knowing or caring. +Through the front yard, out +to the road. He could see the +lights of the truck coming +from far away, two tiny +points in the darkness. But +no twins.</p> + +<p>He waited helplessly while +the truck rushed past, its +headlights cutting holes in +the darkness—fearing those +lights would outline something +that he had not seen. +But there was nothing.</p> + +<p>For another eternity he +hunted the muddy fields, the +small barn and outbuildings. +The clutch of fear made him +shout their names, though he +knew they could not hear.</p> + +<p>And then, suddenly, all fear +was gone—like a summer +squall near the sea, with the +sun close behind. It was as if +their hands had reached out +and touched him and brought +the strange feeling again.</p> + +<p>"They are in the house," he +said aloud and knew he was +right.</p> + +<p>He took time to discard +muddy shoes on the porch before +he opened the door. And +they were there—by the mother's +bed, hands clasped over +hers.</p> + +<p>He felt a tiny chill. Their +eyes were watching the door +as he opened it, their faces set +to receive some stimuli—already +set—as if they had +known he was coming.</p> + +<p>Mary was breathing softly. +On her face all trace of pain +had disappeared and now +there was the tiny smile that +had been hers long ago. Her +breathing was even, but light +as forgotten conversation.</p> + +<p>Gently he tried to pry their +resisting hands away from +hers. The hands fought back +with a terrible strength beyond +normality. By sheer +greater force he tore one of +the twins away.</p> + +<p>It was like releasing a bomb. +Sudden pain stabbed through +his body. The twin struggled +in his arms, the small hands +reaching blindly out for the +thing they had lost. And +Mary's eyes opened and all of +the uncontrolled pain came, +back into those eyes. Her body +writhed on the bed, tearing +the coverings away. The twin +squirmed away from his slackening +hold and once again +caught at the hands of the +mother.</p> + +<p>All struggle ceased. Mary's +eyes shut again, the pain lines +smoothed themselves, the tiny +smile flowered.</p> + +<p>He reached out and touched +the small hands on each side +of the mother and the feeling +for which there were no words +came through more strongly +than ever before. Tiny voices +tried to whisper within the +corners of his mind, partially +blotted, sometimes heard. The +<i>real</i> things, the things of hate +and fear and despair retreated +beyond the bugle call that +sounded somewhere.</p> + +<p>"She will die," the voice +said; one voice for two. "This +part of her will die."</p> + +<p>And then <i>her</i> voice came—as +it had been once before +when all of the world was +young. "You must not be +afraid, John. I have known +for a long time—for they +were a part of me. And you +could not know for your mind +was hiding and alone. I have +seen ..."</p> + +<p>He cried out and pulled his +hands away. Sound died, the +room was normal again. The +milky, white eyes surveyed +him, the hands remained +locked securely over those of +the mother. The thin carven +features of the children were +emotionless, waiting.</p> + +<p>He strove for rational meaning +within his brain. <i>These +are my sons—they can not see +or hear or speak. They are +identical twins—born with +those defects.</i></p> + +<p>Take two children, blind +them, make them deaf to all +sound, cut away their voices. +They are identical twins, facing +the same environment, +sharing the same heredity of +blasted chromosomes. They +will have intelligence and curiosity +that increases as they +mature. They will not be +blinded by the senses—the +easy way. The first thing they +will discover is each other.</p> + +<p>What else might they then +discover?</p> + +<p>It has been said that when +sight is lost the sense of touch +and hearing increase to almost +unbelievable acuteness—Rush +knew that. The blind often +also develop a sense almost +like radar which allows them +to perceive an object ahead of +them and gives them the ability +to follow twisting paths.</p> + +<p>Take one child and put him +under the disability that the +twins were born with. As intelligence +grows so does single +bewilderment. The world +is a puzzling and bewildering +place. Braille is a great discovery—a +way to communicate +with the unknown that +lies beyond.</p> + +<p>But the twins had shown +almost no interest in Braille.</p> + +<p>He reached back down for +the tiny hands.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>"Yes, we can communicate," +the single voice that spoke +for two said. "We have tried +with you before, but we could +not break through. Your mind +speaks in a language we do +not understand, in figures and +equations that are not real to +us. Those things lie all +through your mind—on the +surface we have sensed only +your pity for us and your hate +for the shadowy ones around +you, the ones we do not know. +It was a wall we could not +climb. She is different.</p> + +<p>"A part of her will go with +us," the voice said. "There is +another place that touches +this one which we perceive +and know more fully than this +one."</p> + +<p>The voice died away and +brief pictures of a land of +other dimensions beyond sight +flashed in his brain. He had +seen them before imperfectly +in the disquieting dreams. +"She must go with us for she +can no longer exist here," the +voice said softly. "Perhaps +there are others like us to +come—we do not yet know +what we are or whether there +will be others like us. But we +must go now, before we were +ready, because of her."</p> + +<p>The mother's voice came. +"You must go too. There is +nothing here for you but sorrow. +They will take you, +John." A softness touched at +him. "Please, John."</p> + +<p>The longing was a thing of +fire. To cast off the world +that had already given him +all of the hate and fear that +he could stand, that had made +him worse than a coward. To +go with her.</p> + +<p>But she no longer needed +him. She was complete—as +they were, only necessary to +themselves.</p> + +<p>He could not go.</p> + +<p>During the long night he +kept the vigil by the bedside; +long after any need to keep +it.</p> + +<p>The twins were gone and +she with them.</p> + +<p>He could not cry for all +tears seemed useless. He said +a small prayer, something he +had not done in years, over +the cold thing left behind.</p> + +<p>The rain had ceased outside. +Somewhere out there in his +world there were men trying +to undo the harm that had +been done, harm that he had +helped to do, then retreated +from. He had no right to retreat +further.</p> + +<p>Something spoke a requiem +sentence in his consciousness, +light as late sunset, only +vaguely there. "<i>We are</i> here—we +will wait for you ... come +to us ... come ..."</p> + +<p>He wrote a short note for +the doctor and the others who +would come and hunt and go +through the motions that men +must live by. Perhaps the doctor +might even understand.</p> + +<p>"I have gone plumbing," the +note said.</p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/001-2.jpg"><img src="images/001-1.jpg" width="147" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><b><big>Transcriber's Note:</big></b></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>Fantastic Universe</i> August 1957. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</p> + +<p>A section of text was missing from the original printing. To +restore narrative flow, the following italicised text has been added +as a suggested amendment: "It had +begun to lightning and a few +large drops of rain stroked +<i>Rush's cheek. Not a</i> +good year for the farming he +had retreated to. Not a good +year for anything."</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Now We Are Three, by Joe L. Hensley + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NOW WE ARE THREE *** + +***** This file should be named 29290-h.htm or 29290-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/9/29290/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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