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  Rich Living

  By MICHAEL CATHAL

  Illustrated by MEL HUNTER

  [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy Science FictionFebruary 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that theU.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

  [Sidenote: No other planet in the entire Galaxy was at all likeRejuvenal ... it was the only world worth one's whole fortune for ashort visit!]

  Curtis Delman was the last to leave the space liner. It was only whenthe Captain entered that he ceased dictating and put down themicrophone. Then, with the clumsy deliberation of the aged, he pressedhome the lid of the recorder and turned the key in the lock. There wasalmost a mile of fine wire in that box--a mile of detailed instruction,compiled over the past four days. For a centenarian, his energy wasprodigious.

  The Captain stood respectfully by the door, waiting to be noticed.Delman beckoned him into the suite.

  Hat in hand, the Captain walked over to the desk. "I thought you'd liketo know, sir, the rest of the passengers have disembarked." He spokewith deference.

  "Good," said Delman. "I shan't delay you more than a few minuteslonger."

  "Oh, no delay, I assure you, sir," the Captain replied hastily. "Onlytoo happy to be of service. The crew asked me to thank you on theirbehalf, sir, for your great generosity. It was more than--er--generous."Words seemed to fail him.

  "Not at all, Captain," Delman said. "You've all done your best to makethe crossing as comfortable as possible and I'm very grateful to you.Perhaps you'd do one more thing for me on your return--deliver this tomy representative in London." He pointed to the recording machine.

  "Certainly, sir."

  "Then that takes care of everything." The great lawyer rose creakily tohis feet. Though bent with age, he was still an impressive figure, talland powerfully built, his white hair spilling out over the massiveforehead. "I suppose the press is here?"

  "I'm afraid so, sir."

  "Well, one can't dodge them on Jupiter. There's no room to move as itis."

  * * * * *

  The Captain laughed sympathetically. No one knew better than himself thelimitations of the planet. He'd lived here as a child, grown up underthat plastic bubble which Man had built to preserve an atmosphere--twothousand acres of habitable land in a wilderness of millions of squaremiles. It was enough to break the heart of any boy.

  Delman stooped to pick up his two heavy canes. The Captain leapedforward and handed them to him. Then lawyer and skipper left the suiteand moved slowly toward the gangway. As they reached the steps, theCaptain broke the silence.

  "It's been a privilege to have you on board, sir, and perhaps we mayhope to take you home again on your return from Rejuvenal."

  Curtis Delman smiled. "Well, Captain, it's foolhardy for me to plannearly two years ahead, but I hope so, too."

  They shook hands.

  With a steward supporting him on either side, the ancient lawyer climbedcarefully down the steps.

  A spacelines official had thoughtfully provided a chair. He sat down.The usual array of microphones and tele-cameras was grouped around him.Someone appealed for silence. In the hush that followed, only his ownpersuasive voice was heard.

  "I have no prepared statement," he said, "but I assume you gentlemenwish to ask me some questions. In that event, I'd just like to stressthat I'm not as young as I used to be--or perhaps I should say, _as Ihope to be_--and I'd be obliged if you kept them short and to thepoint."

  There were about thirty reporters present and among them he recognizedseveral faces that he had seen before. A few would belong to the localnetwork, but most of them were probably attached to one of the Universalsyndicates. It was a red-headed youngster who got in the first question;the others were quick to follow.

  "Is it true, sir, that this will be your fourth visit to Rejuvenal?"

  "Yes, perfectly true."

  "Has anyone else been there four times?"

  "No. To the best of my knowledge, I'm the first person to attempt it.Several others have been at least twice."

  "Because no one else could afford it?"

  "I didn't say that. Most people tire of life. I don't."

  Years of experience had accustomed the lawyer to these interviews. Thepurring cameras failed to distract him. In fact, he almost relished thebuzz of competent confusion around him.

  "How long does the trip take?"

  "Two hundred and fifty days out, the same back, and ninety days on theplanet."

  "Don't you find that a tedious journey?"

  "Long, yes. Tedious, no. Don't forget, one has expectations. Besides,the early trips from Earth to Jupiter took twice as long."

  "Now they take four days."

  "No doubt, but that doesn't alter the argument."

  "Mr. Delman, what is the speed of change?"

  "You mean the rate at which the burden of years drops from one'sshoulders?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Almost exactly one year for every twenty-four hours spent on theplanet."

  "So that, in ninety days, you're ninety years younger?"

  "Correct."

  "How old are you now, sir?"

  * * * * *

  Delman scratched his head reflectively. The reporters laughed.

  "That's a difficult question. So far as natural decay is concerned, Ithink I'm a hundred and fifteen. Of course, my actual life-span has beennearer three hundred and eighty-seven; but please don't credit me withbeing a Methuselah. I've a long way to go yet."

  "Is it a fact that the round trip costs five million dollars?"

  "I'm afraid I can't answer that. It's a condition of the contract thatpassengers refrain from disclosing the price of their tickets."

  "It is expensive, though?"

  "Oh, naturally. But remember, the overhead is heavy. Three refuelingbases on the minor planets, Borenius, Ziar and Algon, require constantmaintenance, apart from the initial cost of runways. Then onlyfive--er--patients can be housed on Rejuvenal at any given time. And onealso has to consider the constant change of staff. You'd scarcely expectit to be cheap."

  There was a sudden pause in the questioning. The lawyer took theopportunity to rise up out of his chair. This provoked an immediateresponse; all spoke at once in deafening unison. Delman held up his handfor silence, then turned and addressed the red-headed reporter on hisleft.

  "Young man, since you were the first to begin this examination, I'llgive you two questions with which to wind up for your side. Only two,mind."

  The reporter thought for a moment. "Who are your fellow passengers?" heasked.

  "I don't know. I thought _you_ might be able to tell me that. And thesecond question?"

  "Well, sir, I suppose I ought to ask whether you have any specialmessage for the Universe."

  Curtis Delman chuckled. "No," he said, "nothing of importance. Just thatI'd be glad if the law remained substantially unaltered during myabsence. It's hard enough to keep abreast as things are. Now if you'llexcuse me, gentlemen--"

  The tele-cameras swiveled as, cane in each hand, he hobbled toward theTerminal Building. Security officers cleared a path for him. A group ofonlookers began to applaud. It was a reception more in keeping with apolitician than a lawyer, but Curtis Delman held a unique position.

  He had been the acknowledged leader of his profession for over threehundred years--a record no politician could ever hope to equal.

  * * * * *

  The Vice President of Rejuvenal Enterprises, Inc., had been speaking forthe best part of half
an hour. He was a dapper little man whose whitetunic was fringed with green and purple. He had a slight Venusianaccent, very bookish, very precise and very irritating. All fivepassengers sat in his office and waited with varying degrees of patiencefor the departure signal.

  Curtis Delman had been introduced to each of them in turn. Of the four,only Walter Pellinger, President of Galactic Stores, had made a previoustrip. The lawyer knew of him by reputation as a shrewd businessman, butthere was little to be said in favor of his disposition, which wasrumored to be morose and unfriendly. Certainly his appearance was surlyenough to support the rumor.

  "Of course," the Vice President was saying,