Nor Dust Corrupt
BY JAMES MC CONNELL
Burial on Earth was the dream of every
person in the galaxy. And Krieg was certainly
rich enough to buy his way in. Valhalla
was his. But he changed his mind....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, February 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The room seemed more a mausoleum than an office, but that was as hadbeen intended. Perhaps thirty feet high, fifty feet wide, it stretcheda good hundred feet in length. It was paneled entirely in jet blackonyx, which gave a sense of infinity to it. The floor was a thick lawnof heavy black pile carpeting. Only two areas of the room offeredmitigation to this oppressive gloom. Just past the middle, bathed in ahaze of light, was placed a large black desk, and behind it sat a man.At the far end of the room, slightly elevated, was an alabaster statue,an abstraction of incredible beauty and poignancy. The statue too waswrapped in a soft nimbus. Few visitors to this room ever had to be toldthe title of this work of art, for its meaning was apparent in itsevery line—Bereavement.
The man behind the big black desk belonged to the room as much as didthe onyx walls, the thick carpet or the alabaster statue. Without thepresence of this man the chamber seemed strangely empty, strangelymorbid, and few of the man's associates cared to remain in the roomwhen he was not there. Somehow the warm air of benevolence to befound in his fair, pinkish face softened the harsh somberness of theappointments, while the gentle strength in his dark and mournful eyesgave amelioration to the atmosphere of despair. His job was to be aJanus, looking from the cheery rubric of today towards the unknown butdimmer colors of tomorrow—to be a bridge between present pleasures andfuture fears. There was no better man for the task in all the Galaxythan Consolator Steen.
At the moment Consolator Steen sat waiting, thinking, planning. Soonthrough the huge doors facing him would come a man, one Joseph Krieg byname, who sought Steen's assistance. The fact that Krieg was one of therichest men in all the known universe made the impending interview amost important one, for Consolator Steen's assistance depended entirelyupon the price that could be paid.
Steen's fingers flicked over the set of hidden controls on his desk.Everything was in readiness. "And another innocent fish gets hooked,"he muttered to himself. He sighed once, shortly, then touched aninvisible button. "I will see Joseph Krieg now." In the outer officeSteen's aide-de-camp, Assistant Consolator Braun, sprang to an attitudeof proper deference as the huge bronze doors swung open. Braun bowedslightly as Joseph Krieg strode past him and into the onyx chamber.
Steen's eyes narrowed in admiration as he examined the man walkingtowards him. Joseph Krieg was a huge person, just past middle age butstill retaining the hardened appearance of late youth. His face hada chiseled squareness to it, and his manner indicated not so muchwealth as it did an obvious determination to succeed. This would be aninteresting fish to play with indeed, Steen thought.
About half-way to the desk Krieg stumbled slightly, but recoveredhis pace with the cumbersome grace of some massive animal. A smileflickered briefly over Steen's face. The thickness of the carpet hadmore purposes than one. When Krieg was almost upon him, Steen stood up.
Krieg stopped i