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Science Fiction Collector, v. 2, issue 6, May 1937

Page 11

FALSTO"

Day after day he returned, relentlessly talking, arguing,  to no avail, for the doctor was a man of stone. When Homer's wife and baby son had departed for the realms of no return, Dr. Milton said it served them right for having such a silly wage earner. When the
president tottered and fell to pieces during a reassuring speech to the populate, he commented with his twisted sense of humor on the
corruptness of the public officials. His only display of emotion was angered by the death of his servants and the resultant necessity of
performing household duties himself.
     Then, after six hours of silence amid steady work on the doctor's part, the silence was broken with his, "I have it!" Then with trembling,
gold-encircled fingers he inserted a hypodermic full of a light silvery liquid into his arm.   With a sardonic smile, he turned and spoke to the lawyer.
     "It almost had me!"
     "It might just as well have."
     "What do you mean?"
    "I simply mean that you and I are the last living persons on the globe."
     "Its a lie! What are you trying to tell me?"
     "Turn on the televisor, the lawyer commanded. Face ashen and hands trembling, the doctor obeyed. The televisor, which had been
live all through the plague, was strangely blank and silent even though the current hummed rythmically.
    Something snapped in Dr.   Milton*s mind.
    "No more FALSTO! My God!" He staggered to the drawer of an elaborate dresser.    His hand emerged with a denitro pistol. A sharp report,
then only an ever-widening circle of purple gas.
     With a mad lunge, Homer grasped the vial of silvery life-giving fluid. Then, even as a pink halo began to form about him, he dashed wildly down the street, the preservation of all human life in one hand, a slyly-extracted televisor tube in the other.
THE END....

Saving...

FALSTO" Day after day he returned, relentlessly talking, arguing, to no avail, for the doctor was a man of stone. When Homer's wife and baby son had departed for the realms of no return, Dr. Milton said it served them right for having such a silly wage earner. When the president tottered and fell to pieces during a reassuring speech to the populate, he commented with his twisted sense of humor on the corruptness of the public officials. His only display of emotion was angered by the death of his servants and the resultant necessity of performing household duties himself. Then, after six hours of silence amid steady work on the doctor's part, the silence was broken with his, "I have it!" Then with trembling, gold-encircled fingers he inserted a hypodermic full of a light silvery liquid into his arm. With a sardonic smile, he turned and spoke to the lawyer. "It almost had me!" "It might just as well have." "What do you mean?" "I simply mean that you and I are the last living persons on the globe." "Its a lie! What are you trying to tell me?" "Turn on the televisor, the lawyer commanded. Face ashen and hands trembling, the doctor obeyed. The televisor, which had been live all through the plague, was strangely blank and silent even though the current hummed rythmically. Something snapped in Dr. Milton*s mind. "No more FALSTO! My God!" He staggered to the drawer of an elaborate dresser. His hand emerged with a denitro pistol. A sharp report, then only an ever-widening circle of purple gas. With a mad lunge, Homer grasped the vial of silvery life-giving fluid. Then, even as a pink halo began to form about him, he dashed wildly down the street, the preservation of all human life in one hand, a slyly-extracted televisor tube in the other. THE END....