Including Venture Science Fiction

NOVEL The Productions of Time (1st of 2 parts) JOHN BRUNNER 4

SHORT STORIES Matog JOAN PATRICIA BASCH 45 The Seven Wonders of the Universe MOSE MALLETTE 70 For the Love of Barbara Allen ROBERT E. HOWARD 82 A Matter of Organization FRANK BEQUAERT 91 Near Thing ROBIN SCOTT 99 Come Lady Death PETERS. BEAGLE 114

FEATURES Cartoon GAHAN WILSON 44 Books JUDITH MERRIL 57 Meteroid Collision THEODORE L. THOMAS 89 Letter to A Tyrant King (verse) BILL BUTLER 90 Science: BB Or Not BB, That Is the Question- ISAAC ASIMOV 103 F&SF Marketplace 129 Cover by Gray Morrow (illustrating "The Productiom of Time")

Joseph W. Ferman, PUBLISHER Edward L. Ferman, EDITOR Ted White, ASSISTANT. EDITOR Isaac Asimov, SCIENCE EDITOR Judith Merril, BOOK EDITOR Robert P. Mills, CONSULTING EDITOR Dale Beardale, CIRCULATION MANAGER

The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, Volume 31, No. 2, Whole No. 183, Aug, 1966. Published monthly by Mercury Press(;Inc., at 50; a copy. Annual subscription 15.00; $5.50 in Canada and the Pan American nion, $6.00 in all other countJ·ies. PubllcatiOfl office, 10 Ferry Street, Concord, N. H. 03301. Editorial and general mail should be setd to 341 East 5Jrd St., New York, N. Y. lOOZZ. Second Class postage paid at Concord, N.H. Printed in U.S.A. @ 1966 by Mercury Press, Inc. All rights including translatio1ts into other languages, reserved. Submissions must be accompanied by stamped, self-addressed envelopes; tile Publisher assumcs no re$/>o11sibility for return of unsolicited mallltscripts. That the antics of lunatics can provide some unusual theatrical ef· fects was recently demonstrated in a play by Peter Weiss ("Marat/ Sade")-a play based on the fact that the inmates of Charenton Asylum did perform "therapeutic" theatrical entertainments (in the early 1800's) which were, in fact, devised and directed by the notori­ ous Marquis De Sade (himself an inmate). This story is about the creation of a most unusual play. The props are mysterious; the play­ wright is an enigmatic genius, apparently a contemporary Sade; and, although the players are not lunatics, neither are they exactly "nor­ mar (producing an effect more powerful, because more involving). The result is John Brunner's brand-new novel--an impressive ood inventive science fiction thriller.

THE PBODIJCTIONS OF TI~E (1st of 2 parts) by John Brunner

Eternity is in Jove with the productions of time. -Blake: The Marriage of Heaven and Hell

I let it out slowly. Then he picked up his travelling bag and went PRECISELY BECAUSE THE IDEA down to the street to find a taxi. made him nervous, Murray Doug- The garage, at least, hadn't las rang the Proscenium Restau- changed. Tom Hickie was still in rant and booked a table for one his little glass-sided office; phone o'clock before going to bail out his in one hand, he glanced around as car. His hand was shaking as he Murray slid back the door. For a cradled the phone. moment he was puzzled. Then he It had been a long time. It had caught himself. been an eternity. "Oh, Mr. Douglas! It's been such To bring himself back under a long time, sir, I almost didn't control he drew a deep breath and recognise you." 4 THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 5 "You got my letter?" Murray said At first, hearing the beautiful roughly. He didn't like to think even purr of the V-8 under the about poople not recognising him. downswept hood served to mask The mirror had told him too much the painful knowledge that Hickie already. Last time he called here, had literally not known who he he had already begun to lose his was. He drove through the West youthful handsomeness, but now End towards St. Martin's Lane and he had really changed. There was the Proscenium. slack skin along his jaw, there were But things had changed here, furrows in his forehead, and his too. There were new one-way rout­ scalp was showing at the crown. ings, and parking meters had Murray Douglas, at tliirty-two, sprouted. By the time he had looked fifty and felt a hundred. wasted half an hour in search of a "Yes, sir-the boys are bringing vacant space, he was back in the your car out now." A glint of curi­ depression where he had spent osity showed in Hickie's eyes. "I most of the past months. What was gather you've been ill, sir. I was the point of going to the Prosce­ very sorry to hear-" nium, anyway? A bloody silly thea­ Abruptly Murray was sick of the trical gesture! polite fiction his agent· had circu­ Blazes, hue I'tn going through lated. He said, "The hell! I haven't with it anyway. I've backed down been ill. I've been in a sanatorium and backed out too often .. to stop me drinking myself to He made his way, sullen-faced, death." to the restaurant. Hickie's mouth, opening to say Emile, the head-waiter, recog­ something else, stayed open for a nised him all right, but even he of long moment. But he was saved the professional smile could not further embarrassment by the ar­ wholly hide his shock at the rival of a mechanic at the door. change a year had wrought. And "The Daimler's ready, Mr. Hick­ he had another reason for distress. iel" he called. "I'm very sorry, Mr. Douglas! "How is it?" Murray demanded. But your reservation was for one "Your car, boss?" The mechanic o'clock, and when at half past one turned to him. "We had a fair you had not arrived . . . I" amount of work to do on it. Excuse You wouldn't have dared do that my saying so, but you drive your in the old days. Now you think I'm cars damned hard." washed up, you- "I used to," Murray muttered. "I Murray forced himself to swal­ used to drive myself, too . • • ·Iow his · resentment. He said, How much do I owe you for stor­ "Never mind. You can fit me in age,Tom?'' somewhere, I guess." 6 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTIOX Emile pointed towards the back "Apple-juice," Murray said of the crowded restaurant. "There curtly. "Chilled." He lit a ciga­ is our only table empty, Mr. Doug­ rette and leaned back. Now the las. Yes, Mr. Crombie, I'll be with critics behind the screen of plants you in a moment!" had switched to a different sub­ Puzzled glances ('Tm sure I ject. Hearing what it was, he be­ know him, but-!") followed him came all ears. through the room. None of the peo­ "What do you make of this man ple who looked up was known to Delgado, Ralph-this Argentin­ him; there were several people he ian that Blizzard's got hold of?" did know, of course, but he was "Didn't you see the thing he did glad all those former friends were in Paris with Jean-Paul Gar­ too busy talking to notice him. The rigue?" Heston-Wood countered. table he was given was blessedly "Trois Fois a la Fois'?'' inconspicuous, half-screened by a "No," Burnett grunted. "And bank of indoor creepers. At the from all accounts it wasn't my cup next table, around a corner and in of tea." an alcove, were two men whose Heston-\Vood gave a chuckle. voices he immediately recognised "Yes, I still remember what you -Pat Burnett, drama critic of the had to say about The Connection, Gazette, and Ralph Heston-Wood Pat!" of Acting. They were deep in dis­ ''Don't change the subject. Se­ cussion of a rehearsal they had just riously, what's the point of all this seen. Murray sat listening with in­ nonsense? If you have a play you tense concentration. have a play and there's an author God, but he missed it all! Why who put it together. But from what had he come here alone, instead of I can gather there isn't a play. maybe ringing his agent? Roger There's a fast-talking Dago who's would have been glad- conned Blizzard into vouching No, probably he wouldn't. Not for him and someone else into put­ after the endless loans, the savage ting up a lot of money, and a gang complaints, the moans of despair. of dead-beats and has-beens Since coming out of the sanato­ scraped off the bottom of the bar­ rium, Murray Douglas had become rel because no one in his right far better acquainted than ever in mind will touch the job." his life with Murray Douglas. And Murray felt anger close around he didn't like himself very much. his heart. He picked favourites from the "Pat, you carry this theatre-for­ menu: avocado pear, truite au bleu. the-masses pose too far." Heston­ "And for wine?" the wine-wait­ Wood drank noisily. "The play er was saying. Delgado did with Garrigue af- THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 7 forded me my most stimulating mick was what Heston-Wood evening since Godot." called "theatre for the masses," and "It didn't run," Burnett said. the picture at the head of his col­ "No. Well, there was Gar­ umn showed him grinning around rigue's suicide, you know." a Priestley-type meerschaum pipe. "Yes, but-rest in peace, and "Get up," Murray said. and all that bunkum-why didn't "Now-now look here, Mur­ it pick up with a replacement?" ray!" "Because the piece was created Murray's rage lent him strength around a specific cast. There is a which, after the wreck he had point to the idea-you just won't made of his body, he was not en­ see it." titled to. He dragged Burnett to his "I know all about that. Saroyan feet and hit him under the jaw. tried the same thing at Theatre The burly man staggered back­ Workshop, remember? I thought it wards and collapsed on the table was abysmal nonsense." Clinking of another party. Ignoring the glass as Burnett poured more wine. cries of alarm which now went up, "You get your cast together, you Murray drew a deep breath. work up dialogue co-operatively, "Someone ought to have done and you call the result a play. But that to you years ago! You're not a out of this bunch of second-rate critic and you never will be. You're hams you get a masterpiece? Why, a foul-minded gossip-columnist there's nobody better in the whole with the bad taste of a whole hen­ gang than Murray Douglas, and party of Aunt Ednas! I didn't dare he's turned into such a gin-swill­ kick your teeth in when I was on ing sot there isn't a producer in top of the tree because of the pow­ London who'll look at him. And er your column gives you. Now I'm he never had talent anyway-just in the gutter you can't hurt me. But a pretty face." you go on trying, don't you? You Murray stood up. He didn't called me a gin-swilling sot­ bother to push the table away; it now's your chance to say it again tilted and spilled a couple of knowing I can hear you!" knives off its edge. Face absolute­ "Mr. Douglas! Bon Dieu, what ly white, he went around the con­ have you done?" From the front of cealing greenery. the restaurant came an agitated There was a clang as Reston­ Emile. Wood dropped his fork. It was the "It's all right, Emile. I'm leav­ last noise. A total silence invad­ ing. If I'd known I was going to ed the restaurant. Burnett stared be under the same roof as Burnett up at Murray as though at a ghost. I wouldn't have come." Murray He was a burly man whose gim- spoke with the full resonance of 8 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION his trained voice, and knew every~ project, and if his agent had been one could hear every word. able to find him anything else at Turning his back, he walked all he wouldn't have considered it slowly towards the street. The best even for the fantastic rates of pay. exit I've made for a long while, he thought bitterly. II "Murray!" He glanced around. At a table Stopping only to buy a sand­ near the door sat Fleet Dickinson, wich in place of the good lunch who was more on top than any­ he'd abandoned, he picked his way body, the full charm turned on north through London towards the high. M I motorway. At first he drove "Murray, congratulations on cautiously; he hadn't touched the what you just did to Patsy-boy! wheel of anything but a slowpoke What are you doing at the mo­ saloon since his breakdown. Once ment? Hardly heard a word of you on the motorway, however, he de­ since-you know." A twist of a liberately took the car up to the graceful hand. maximum of its performance, "Since they wrung the gin out? holding third gear until the hun­ Why, I've been resting. On door­ dred showed and then letting her steps, mainly. One of them was roll. yours, by the way." Even if it was only for advanc­ A flicker of well-control1ed em­ ing him the cash to ransom the barrassment. "\Veil, Murray, you car, he was grateful to Manuel know how it is when something Delgado. like this happens." He hadn't disposed of the "I know only too intimately Daimler because it was a symbol how it is. Don't let me spoil your to him. The registration plates lunch, will you? So long." said 1 MQD for Murray Quest "Uh-Murray, if you're really Douglas and people recognized it in difficulties. . . ?" on the street. "Not any more, thanks. Bliz­ Maybe he'd been bloody-mind­ zard picked me for this collection ed not to sell it. At least he would­ of dead-beats and has-beens he's n't have had to eat so many meals assembling for the new Delgado out of cans. Roger Grady had told play. See you in the stalls when him he was a fool to let the storage we open." charges mount; he'd still been go­ That was a childish sort of jab ing on about it when he broke the to end with. But the damnable incredible news about Delgado. thing was that he was just as sus­ His mind roamed back over picious as Burnett of the Delgado that curious talk with Roger. THE PRODUCTIONS OP TIME 9 He'd heard of Delgado, natu· who wouldn't take a part in a Del· rally. There had been a movie, at gado play for a thousand a day." a time when the only South Amer· "Why on earth not?" ican name to ring bells with the "Because Garrigue killed him· cognoscenti in London had been self. Because Lea Martinez went Leopoldo Torre-Nilsson. Murray into an asylum. Because Claudette hadn't seen it, but people who had Myrin tried to murder her baby said it was phenomenal-a come­ daughter.. " Roger's voice was level. die noire to end comedies noires. "Did you ever know me to be· On the strength of that he'd lieve in jinxes, Roger?" come to Europe and Jean-Paul "No." Roger sighed. "It so ha~ Garrigue, one of the finest young pens, though, I was talking about actors in France, had taken the this with someone only yesterday, lead in the production Burnett and got a flat no before I made any and Heston-Wood had been dis· offer at all. I wasn't going to make cussing. Murray hadn't seen that, an offer. Blizzard has some screw· either; he'd been in the sanatorium ball idea of who he wants~" by then. But some of the notices "Meaning me?" Murray cut in. had been raves. Then there was "No, I'm sure you have it in you Garrigue's suicide, and a sensa­ to get back to the top-and may­ tion, and silence. As though Gar­ be do even better because you rigue's depression had been conta· won't have your handsome juve· gious, Delgado no longer seemed nile face to cover your failings." to enthuse anyone. Roger could speak to Murray more And then Roger's news. frankly than anyone else. "But ''Will I accept?" Murray you're the only one who strikes me echoed. "Blizzard asks for me per­ as being on the credit side. Still, sonally and I'm going to hesitate? Blizzard has a hard head, and Are you crazy?" even if the damn' thing folds after "I know some people who four nights it's a chance to turn in would," Roger said after a pause. something the critics will notice." "But they were wild about Del· "At least it'll stop me pestering gado in Paris last year I" you, you mean." Roger gazed at the end of his ''You have been a bloody nul· cigar intently. ''Yes ... Look, sance," Roger agreed. Murray, if the project's a success "All right, can it," Murray said no one could possibly deserve it harshly. "Give me the details. The more than you after the way you've pay doesn't matter-right now, pulled yourself. together. But I I'll take a second standard-bearer wouldn't be honest if I didn't warn at minimum rates." you that there are people around "Oh, there's money in this, boy. 10 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION Blizzard's taken over a bankrupt much noise as possible he slammed country-club called Fieldfare the car's door. House, up Bedford way, and he "You will be Mr. Murray Doug­ plans to have the cast there-all las." expenses paid-until he brings He started violently. At his el­ the show to London. The idea is bow a man of indeterminate age for it to follow Amaranth into the and nationality, wearing a black Margrave. If there's time, there'll suit and a black tie, had appeared be a week's pre-London try-out at like a conjuring trick. Conscious the New Brecht, but more than of prickly sweat on his spine, Mur­ likely you'll be at the Margrave ray said, "Ah-yes, I am!" four weeks from now." "My name is Valentine, sir. I "Did you say four weeks?" am the head steward. May I take "No, Blizzard said. You take it your bag and show you to your ac­ up with him, boy, when you go to commodations ?" this club of his. On Friday." The extraordinary Victorian phrase heightened Murray's sense III of unreality. He stared at Valen­ tine's pale, ageless face, the im­ Friday, an hour earlier than ex­ maculate suit like a funeral mute's, pected because he had goDe with­ the highsided black leather boots out his lunch, Murray swung up in which the legs terminated. the winding gravelled drive "Your bag, sir?" of Fieldfare House. The grounds "Oh-here you are. Is Mr. Bliz- were so elaborate they might well zard here yet?" , have played a part in reducing the "No, sir. You are the first. I ex­ club to bankruptcy; he saw a maze pect Mr. Blizzard and Mr. Del­ of box, peonies, rhododendrons, gado at six o'clock. The rest of the and-around the corner of the company will be arriving at vari­ house-the high board of a swim­ ous times this afternoon or this ming pool. The house itself was a evening. Please come this way." rambling structure with a pillared Feeling as though he was walk­ porch boasting seven stone steps. ing beside a ghost, Murray accom­ It had an empty air. panied him up the steps, through He switched off the engine and a vestibule and into an enormous in the sudden silence had to re­ hall. It reached up to an arched press a wild thought: that this was ceiling and a domed skylight. A an alcoholic delusion and he had gallery serving the upper rooms come to a deserted house. ran around it from a curving stair­ He snatched the key from the ig­ case. The country club's orna­ nition and jumped out. With as ments and decorations were every- THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 11 where: sporting prints, horse­ Add one to the reasons why the brasses, a tiger-skin in front of the club went broke. Murray gave an roast-an-ox fireplace. impressed nod. Then, as Valen­ Instead of turning along the tine made to open his bag, he gallery, Valentine opened a green turned to prevent him. baize door at the head of the stair­ 'Til stow my own gear," he case and went through. Beyond said. "Uh-" He felt in his pocket stretched a long light corridor, for a tip, but Valentine raised a with panels of glass let into its pale-palmed hand. ceiling and numbered doors ei­ "Mr. Blizzard is giving me a ther side. This must be a newly very generous retainer, sir." built wing jutting from the back Murray shrugged and dropped of the house. the coins back. "Say, what's the "Your room, sir," Valentine routine going to be-have you a said, putting a key in the furthest timetable?" He took the first few door. "Number fourteen." items from his bag and began to There was a room thirteen ad­ sort them. jacent, Mqrray noticed. He won­ "Tonight there is to be dinner dered whether it was going to be at seven-thirty, sir, after which vacant, in view of the number of Mr. Delgado wishes to make the theatre people who were supersti­ acquaintance of everyone present tious, or whether he was going to and there will be an introductory find himself with a doggedly scep­ discussion." tical neighbour. Then ·he forgot "I see. Are you left over from his question. the country club, by the way?" Many London hotels would be Murray picked up a suit and head­ glad of rooms like this. Plain, ed for the built-in wardrobe be­ square, low-ceilinged, it was pan­ yond the bed. elled with maple and pine. A low "No, sir. I am specially re­ double divan with a smoke-grey tained by Mr. Blizzard." cover was flanked by bedside ta­ Murray made to close the ward­ bles of which one bore a phone, robe door; in the act, he froze, the other a vase of flowers. A full­ staring at something half-seen on size Picasso reproduction was cen­ the lowermost shelf at the side of tered over the bedhead. The win­ the cupboard. dows ran the length of the outside "Is something wrong, sir?" Val­ wall and gave on to a lawn and entine ventured. dark woods beyond. There was a "Yes," Murray confirmed grim­ TV set, an easy-chair, a shelf bear­ ly. "This!" He tugged open the oth­ ing books and back numbers of er door of the wardrobe and hand­ Acting. ed Valentine a bottle of White 12 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION Horse. "And this, and this, and ed, could wait. For the moment he this!" Booth's Dry London gin, wanted to get closer acquainted Lemon Hart rum, Cognac Hen­ with the setup. nessy! There were glasses there, Valentine had left the key in too, soda, lime and orange squash the outside of his door. He turned -but those were safe. He was and pocketed it and set off on a sweating as he faced Valentine tour of inspection. again. The big hall he had come "Was it part of Blizzard's or­ through gave on to a dining-room, ders to lay in that stuff?" a lounge with a bar, a reading­ "Mr. Blizzard did require me to room, and several other rooms provide suitable refreshment in whose doors were locked. Another the visitors' rooms, yes." door gave access to kitchens and "Well, suitable refreshment for store-rooms. He left till last the me is-oh, damnation! Just get me door which led back into the new a dozen cans of fruit juice." wing; beyond that, he found not "Very good, sir." If Valentine the corridor he had expected but a understood why he was being complete small theatre with about snapped at, he didn't let it show. sixty seats, a projection-booth, and "Will that be all?" a very decent-sized stage. "Yes. Definitely all." He whistled. So Blizzard did It wa's going to be tough. But know what he was doing! Facili­ he'd always known that. They'd ties like these weren't found under told him it might be years before bushes. Abruptly the idea of high­ he dared take even a glass of beer. pressuring a Lond<;>n production They'd said, in so many words, from scratch didn't seem so ridicu­ that if he swallowed a drop of al­ lous after all. He cocked an eye­ cohol before he'd put five years of brow at the little theatre and went professional success and personal out again. adjustment behind him, he would In the hall he caught a glimpse go to the gutter and stay there. of a man he took at first to be Val­ Murray Douglas didn't like Mur­ entine but who he realised after a ray Douglas much. But in the gut­ second must be another "steward," ter he'd hate him. slightly taller, in identical mourn­ He had a store of tranquillisers ing-black clothes. The front door they'd given him at the sanatori­ was ajar. He passed through it and um. He washed one down with went around the house to look at water from the hand-basin in the its grounds. . corner and felt better in a few He crossed a long lawn, put his minutes. head into a dusty shed full of The rest of his gear, he decid- sports equipment, wandered to the THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 13 edge of the swimming-pool, and himself, brows ferociously drawn came at last to the woods he had together as he looked and listened. seen from his room. About fifty Most of the talk was common· rards more, and he reached an place scandal. No one had mem­ eight-foot fence of wire netting tioned Murray's assault on Bur· topped with barbed wire, installed nett, and he was glad. It would presumably to prevent the club's get to people as gossip eventually, members wandering on to other but at least it couldn't have made people's land. He shrugged and the evening papers. turned back. Occasionally there was a burst It was a hell of a shame he had of argument concerning a subject to come here to work. This would of real interest: the value of col­ have been a great place to rest up lective improvisation as the basis after his spell in the sanatorium for a play. Murray had been ex­ -if he'd had the money for it. pecting to discuss that seriously. He was getting close to the But right now he lacked the heart. house when he heard a car ap­ He'd seen whom else Blizzard had proaching. He hurried his steps; collected. he was eager to know who else Blizzard and Delgado hadn't Blizzard had roped in to enjoy been at dinner. Valentine had con· such unasked-for luxury. veyed that they were dining in an· other room to talk over last-min­ IV ute problems. That rang false to Murray. It seemed more probable Bracing himself, he'd refused that Delgado was trying to build all offers of a drink to celebrate a phoney aura of mystery around when the dozen-odd members of himself. the company came together for His eyes roamed the room. The dinner. But by half past eight, noisier of the two groups into when they adjourned to the lounge which they had sorted themselves for the "introductory discussion," numbered five, and included four he was really tempted to drown people with whom he had previ­ his sorrows. ously worked. There was red­ The bar stock was visibly lower haired Ida Marr, still slim but already; the air was thick with showing her age around the eyes; smoke; someone had found records she was posing consciously-but and put them on the player, and then, she was never really off­ the chatter was loud and brighL stage. On one side of her, Gerry It was more like the start of a par­ Hoading, looking younger even ty than a business meeting. than his actual twenty-four; he Only Murray sat sombrely by presumably was going to be their 14 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION designer. He had considerable tal­ grey and white tie. He held him­ ent, undoubtedly, but ... self easily. One might have taken On the other side of Ida, Adri­ him more readily for an actor than an Gardner, running a little to fat: -say-Constant, who looked like Murray had worked with him in an unsuccessful clerk. Skeleton and knew he was a good "All right, everybody!" Blizzard average actor. Again-but . . . parked himself on a large chair be­ He'd worked with Constant hind a table across which he could Baines in rep, nearly ten years ago. face the others. "Manuel?" He had stayed in rep when Mur­ And, as Delgado took a place ray reached the West End. It had next to him, he continued: "Well, been something of a shock to meet I bet you think this is a crazy set­ him here, and their greeting had up. Hey?" not been cordial. . A nervous giggle from the girl And the last of the five: the girl Heather. sitting on a cushion at Ida's feet. "I suspected as much." Bliz­ Her latest conquest, presumably. zard's tone hardened. "As of now Murray's scowl deepened. He im­ you stop thinking so. This place agined the girl must be from a pro­ may still look like a country club, vincial rep somewhere. He had but it happens to be the ideal place heard her addressed as Heather. for our work. How many of you She would be no older than twen­ have seen the theatre? I thought ty. Her hair was raven-black, and you would have, Murray-you her face was just imperfect enough have a trouper's nose." to be piquant, and her figure was "Next week: Murray Douglas in extremely interesting. Osborne's Entertainer," muttered Shame. Constant. Nobody laughed. There was a sudden stir. 'Bliz­ "Only Murray? Jesus. Go and zard had come in, followed by a take a look afterwards, then. Okay, sallow man who could only be let's get on. We're here to try some­ Manuel Delgado himself. Portly, thing which isn't easy, but which dark-suited, the director plunged Manuel has done before with the forward distributing greetings like kind of success some people get largesse, but no one paid more once in a lifetime and die happy." than mechanical attention. They "Jean-Paul Garrigue!" Constant were staring at Delgado. murmured. He timed the words He had a sort of reptilian taut­ perfectly. Everyone looked at him. ness, as though his dark eyes were "That isn't funny," Adrian said lidless. He was of medium height, in a strained voice. medium build; he wore a dark "I didn't mean it to be," Con­ blue jacket, charcoal pants and a stant grunted. THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 15 "I'm sorry about that, Manuel," you know him? He has no goals. Blizzard muttered with a glare at He is soft crumbling dirt inside, Constant. Delgado pulled himself and ashamed to want what he forward on his chair. He took out wants which is relief from the and lit a king-size cigarette. need to make up his own mind. "Am I supposed to mind?" he He will copy his neighbours to said. His voice was low and his save making a decision, he will English accent good. "Make no take his neighbour's wife to bed to mistake, if Jean-Paul had not al­ save mending his marriage. He ready been on the edge of suicide will have children because he he would not have made Trois hopes to rescue a shadow of him­ Fois the success it became." self from the wreck of his youth, He cocked his head. "You know and will drive them to wreck their nothing about me, any of you. youth in turn. He will resort to Some of you have perhaps seen a drink" -he looked at Murray and film I made. None of you have Murray felt like a small boy who seen Trois Fois. If you had, you has misbehaved in school. would not be here. I am uninter­ "Or drugs! Or the lying conso­ ested in repeating myself. I am lation of religion which tells him interested in one thing only. Lis­ when he dies he will be rewarded ten, and I will tell you what it is." for being a creep. There are mil­ ft wasn't the words. It was their lions of him, armoured with wash­ delivery-the conceit, the weight ing-machines, shod with three­ of meaning loaded on a single syl­ hundred-horsepower winged san­ lable every time he said "I"­ dals. He is Phaeton, so conceited which took their attention. Mur­ he has stolen the sun's charioL He ray hunched forward on his chair, is Andromeda's father, so proud of scalp prickling. He had been in his daughter's beauty the gods the presence of competence all his compel him to chain her to a rock working life, talent more times for a monster to devour, while he than he could remember, and ar­ wrings his hands and moans­ rogant genius perhaps half a dozen what did I do, what did I do?" His times in all. Add one. voice slid up to a parody falsetto. "All the time we are told, and "He makes me sick. Everyone we know it is true: we are in a pe­ knows him but nothing is done riod of decay. Not decadence­ about him. That is what interests decay. Here is a man in this age me, and that is what is going to which prides itself that the indi­ interest you. I make myself clear?" Yidual is important." The thin up­ There was a silence. Finally per lip curled. "This man is a Ida stirred and spoke. dummy, and inside he is foul Do • Aze we to take it that the fonD 16 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION you wish to give the result of our pened. I feel I ought to be going -our collective work is that of so~ around asking for autographs." cial criticism?" "Have half a plinth," Murray "If you mean: it will contain suggested, and she sat down next a plea for reform, the answer is no. to him. Excitement colouring her I am an artist, not a doctor. My voice, she went on. speciality is cancer and gangrene, "I can't get over this! I remem~ at the stage where the disease is ber seeing you in Skeleton when past hope of cure." I was at school, and-here I am, He stubbed his cigarette and so soon afterwards!" rose. Five years ago, Murray remind~ "We will assemble for prelimi~ ed himself. So soon I nary thematic discussion at nine~ "What do you think of all this, thirty tomorrow morning. Good Mr. Douglas?" she asked after a night." pause. "I've never heard of any~ thing quite like it." v "Stop calling me mister," Mur~ ray said. "I probably look old After that, Murray wanted fresh enough to be your father, but I'm air. He siipped outside. There was not." a stone plinth in front of the porch A startled hiss of indrawn which was a convenient height; he breath. "I-I'm sorry!" perched on it and lit a cigarette. Murray hesitated, and finally He was completely lost in his gave a laugh. "Forget it. What's own thoughts when a voice spoke your name, by the way? Nobody hesitantly from behind. told me." "Mr. Douglas? You are Murray "Heather Carson." Douglas, aren't you?" "And how did you get mixed up It was Heather. in this, Heather?" "Oh, hullo. Ida let you off the "I don't really know. I've been leash?" He hadn't meant to say in rep at Southampton since I fin~ anything as cutting as that-the ished at the Gourlay School. I su~ gloomy drift of his musings die~ pose I must have impressed Mr. tacted the words. Blizzard. He came to see us a cou~ "I'm sorry? I don't quite-?" pie of months ago, and then­ "Never mind. Yes, I'm Murray well, I got this invitation." Douglas." He tossed his cigarette Clearly Murray had been wrong into the darkness. "Why?" to suspect Ida's influence, or she "I thought you were, but-" would have mentioned it. He lit The girl gave a nervous chuckle. another cigarette, and she repeat~ "I can't get used to what's hap~ ed her original question. THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 17 "I'll tell you what I think of it thing; with it, he's so unreliable so far," Murray said. "Delgado no one can afford to take him on. knows what he's doing. Sam Bliz­ Satisfied?" zard doesn't. I heard Burnett of There was no answer. Feeling the Gazette say he'd collected a as though he had just kicked a kid's gang of no-goods, and with the ex­ toy to pieces, he grunted a good ception of yourself he was right." night and went up to his room, to There was a stunned silence. Fi­ shower and rinse the bad feeling nally she said, "But there's your­ off his body. self, to start with. I mean, you're Just before turning in, he a star!" checked the wardrobe to see if "Past tense. Excuse me for say­ Valentine had carried out his in­ ing it, but I have to. Who do we structions. He had. The shelf now have here? Me, the guy who drank held assorted cans of fruit juice. himself from West End leads to So far, so good. He put out the the line outside an agent's of­ light and lay down. fice in six months. Ida, who-ah, He had nightmares. skip it. You'll find out about Ida soon enough. Adrian Gardner, The bedside phone brought him who's lucky not to be in jail. I out of uneasy slumber. Valentine's don't care about people's private voice informed him that breakfast lives if they stay private, but Ade's was served from eight until nine. doesn't. And then there's Gerry He muttered thanks and swung his Hoading. He was a boy wonder feet to the floor. like me. Why do you think he's He hadn't finished unpacking here instead of lounging around a yesterday; his shaving tackle was Mayfair apartment saying, 'Sorry, still in his bag. When he'd shaved, too busy!' whenever the phone he opened the mirrored cupboard rings?" above the wash-basin meaning to "W-why?" put his things away. There was Abruptly Murray was hating half a bottle of ·Scotch in the cup­ himself. It wasn't fair to spew out board. his miserable ideas at this girl's feet. He stared at it. Then a wave of "Skip it. I don't want to play rage darkened his mind. He seized holier-than-thou." the bottle and let the contents "No, you mustn't just leave it down the drain. The smell sickened there!" him. He went to the phone. Murray said tiredly, "I guess Shortly, he heard Valentine. not. Okay, the poor bastard is "Yes, Mr. Douglas?" hooked. He's a junkie. Without "Why the hell was there whiskey his stuff he doesn't produce any- in my medicine cabinet?" 18 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION "Whiskey, sir? I'm very sur­ men he knew only by sight sitting prised to hear that." together at the far end of the long "Are you? Well, get this. If I table, but everyone else appeared find any more liquor in this room to have finished except Heather. I shall force it down your throat There was an unused place-setting and push the bottle after it. Do next to her; Murray took it. you understand?" "Morning! Seen Sam?" "Very good, sir. Ah-perhaps I "Oh, good morning, Murray." should remind you it is now twen­ She seemed preoccupied. "1-uh ty-five minutes past eight o'clock." -1 was going to keep that place "Oh, go to hell!" Murray said, for Ida. She asked-" and slammed down the phone. "Skin Ida," Murray said. "Have He made a minute check of the you seen Sam?" room, looking in all the places 'Well, yes. He went out a few where he had once hidden his own minutes ago. Is something liquor from friends and doctors. wrong?" Finding nothing, he relaxed and "Nothing to do with you," Mur­ began to dress. Most of his clothes ray grunted. A black-clad steward were also still in his bag, and handed him orange juice; he would have to stay there until lat­ gulped it, and in imagination it er, but he rummaged to the bot­ filled his throat with the hotness tom of it for a favourite sweater, of whiskey. He said under his and underneath that he found an­ breath, "God damn." other bottle of whiskey. "Well, well! Morning, Murray! He seized it by the neck and a Is that the place you were going whisper of terror went across his to keep for me, Heather darling? mind. Had he himself-? Never mind, there's one opposite." No, by God, I didn't[ On stage as ever, Ida swept around He hurled the bottle fair at the the table. She had on black jeans wall over the washbasin. There and a black sweater. She looked was a vast brown splash as the tired. "My fault for being late! whiskey gushed down the drain. Thank you" -to the steward He pulled on the sweater and bringing orange juice. "Dry toast made for the door. after this, and a gallon of coffee. All right, Blizzard, damn you. \Vhat's up, Murray? Hangover?" You've got some explaining to dol Murray didn't say anything. "Not funny?" Ida said brightly. VI "Never mind, you'll be over it by lunchtime." But Blizzard wasn't in the din­ "Stow it," Murray said. "I'm on ing-room. There were two young the wagon and you know it." THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 19 "So you were telling us last those Murray knew, there were night. That's why I thought it was only the two young men-Rett so peculiar when I passed your Latham and AI Wilkinson-and room. The door was open and one a girl called Cherry Bell about of these vampiric valets was clear­ whom he knew nothing. ing up some kind of mess. There Blizzard and Delgado appeared was a stink of Scotch you could from backstage, Blizzard carrying cut with a knife." chairs which he set down facing She smiled with honey and the others over the footlights. The venom. Murray's appetite van­ author took out another of his ished like a flame blown out. cigarettes and lit it with a flour­ "This isn't a country club," he ish. Today he had put on a shark­ said, standing up. "It's an asylum. skin jacket and fawn trousers. Or it will be if we go on like this. "Okay, let's get on," Blizzard Don't let me interfere with your said. "First-" new romance, will you?" he end­ "First, Sam!" Murray hauled ed savagely as he spun on his heel. himself to his feet. "I want you to She deserved that for the crack tell me why you told your slimy about a hangover. But I wish creature Valentine to scatter liq­ Heather didn't have to be there uor all over my room!" and hear me. Delgado's eyes fixed on Murray. An expression of interest devel­ Nine-thirty, and everyone in oped slowly around them, like an the miniature theatre apart from image on a photographic film. Delgado and Blizzard. Last of the "You must be crazy," Blizzard other arrivals was Lester Harkham, said. "I suppose what you mean is the lean, forty-ish lighting expert that I told Valentine to leave some who almost always worked on drinks in people's rooms and for­ Blizzard's productions. got to warn him to skip yours." Jess Aumen was sitting at a pi­ "Not good enough. I had him ano alongside the stage, moving take those away. But this morning one hand idly over the keys. He I found a bottle in my medicine was a sleek young man with the cabinet and another at the bottom artificial good looks of a male mod­ of my travelling bag." el, but he was a good composer. Blizzard scowled. "Murray, I Lester, Jess, Blizzard and Ger­ think it would be a damned good ry Hoading if he could be kept on idea if you sat down before I told the rails: as good a supporting you the only way I can think of team as you could hope for. Then for a bottle to get into your bag!" why hadn't Sam lined up more tal­ Murray hesitated, calling him­ ent to put on stage? Apart from self every kind of fool for not wait- 20 FANTASY A~D SCIE!I;CE FICTION ing till he could get Blizzard afternoon they had stepped alone. through half a scene, about forty "No, don't sit down, Douglas!" extemporised exchanges that Delgado leaned forward. "You served to delineate a pair of char­ begin to be interesting. You sug­ acters, and Jess Aumen was im­ gest a theme. A persecution. If I provising angular chords. Also im­ understand, you are saying some­ provising in his own way was Ger­ one is attempting to make you ry. He had clearly got his supply drink when you are forbidden to." from somewhere; his face was "I'm saying nothing of the sort," flushed and his voice kept sliding Murray snapped. up the scale. But before they "Now consider this," Delgado stepped through the brief action said, as though the denial hadn't he chalked out the stage for them been spoken. "Cherry, come up and laid out with. gestures an en­ here." tire two-level set. The girl about whom Murray At five o'clock Delgado told knew nothing climbed on the Cherry to type up her notes and edge of the stage and sat with legs disappeared backstage with Bliz­ swinging. She put a shorthand pad zard. The others- drifted away to on her knee and slipped a pair of the lounge, and the arguments glasses on. went on all evening. Oh. Murray had assumed her to It was a long time since Mur­ be a member of the cast. But plain­ ray had seen enthusiasm of this or­ ly her function was to note sug­ der generated so quickly. And it gestions and presumably type up was due to Delgado, no one else. scripts from them. Even though he was working in a "Consider persecution," Delga­ foreign language his ear was sharp do said. "By advertisement, for in­ enough to catch and correct the stance-you don't have this gew­ least infelicity in a proposed line, gaw, you're a slob." and his corrections were so trans­ "Chasing people who already parently right not even Ida had have serviceable objects to replace tried to argue. them with new ones," Constant How long would it last? By this put in. "That's a kind of persecu­ time next week, Murray judged, tion, if you're looking at it your tiredness would be competing way." with enthusiasm. But by then they "Right. More?" might have a complete outline, It grew incredibly. They could and presumably it would take Del­ barely drag themselves away for gado a few days to organise and lunch. Even Murray was forced edit his script. Oh, it was begin­ out of his angry withdrawal. By ning to look feasible. THE. PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 21 When the talk lost its intensity Oh, damn! Murray, will you take and one or two people-Heather, charge of it for me? Things have Jess-had drifted to bed, he de­ gone well today. If they turn sour, cided to do the same. Gerry Hoad­ I know from experience I won't ing followed him into the hall. have the patience to load myself "Murray, mind if I have a pri­ and wait for the stuff to hit. I'll vate word with you?" the designer go crazy waiting and take on a sec­ said. "Keep walking-I'm turning ond load, and I'll probably make it in, too. Look, we've worked togeth­ a bigger one, and when I do that er before, so I guess you know my I'll kill myself. Here!" trouble." He thrust the jar towards Mur­ "Yes, I know about it. Why?" ray. "Keep it for me! Don't tell me "Well, I-I have enough of the where you're hiding it. Never let stuff to keep me going. I found it me take more than three grains at in my room when I got here, the one go, got that? Not even if I way you found liquor, and I was­ come crying to you, don't let me n't complaining. I've been taken take more than three grains!» off the stuff once and it nearly Murray nodded, hefted the jar, killed me, so I'm stuck with it." and turned to the door. As he They reached the head of the reached for the handle, Gerry stairs and turned into the new spoke again. wing. "Murray, I'm-I'm very grate­ "This is my room-number ful. I haven't any right to ask you ten," he went on. "I must be over this. If there's anything I can do the middle row of seats in the the­ in return. • . ?" atre. Crazy thing to find, isn't it? "Sure," Murray muttered, and A private theatre equipped like went out. that! Come in." He shut the door and stood twisting the key in his VD hands. "What I'm trying to say is this. Murray looked around his cnna You must have some kind of guts room ruefully. that I don't have. So-" God, was ther• ever mch • He tugged open a drawer and spavined, windbroken, lcnocJe. produced a two-ounce jar full of kneed string put togethu as thls fine white powder. bunch here? "I've never seen so much at one But at least the experience was timel" he almost whispered. improving Gerry. From previous "Heaven knows what it cost! Be­ acquaintance Murray wouldn't cause it isn't cut-it's pure heroin. have credited him with so much And if I-well, when things .• , self-control. Now: where to hide 22 FANTASY A~D SCIENCE FICTION the stuff? How about inside the on the mattress into the side of the TV set? That had been one of his hinged panel. The fall of the mat­ l!lwn most successful inspirations tress had stretched it taut and then when he was hiding his liquor. broken it. This was a modern slim-line He opened the hinged panel set, though. When he peered with his fingernails. Below, he through the ventilation slits in the found a tape-deck. At first glance back, he couldn't see a space large it looked quite ordinary. It wasn't enough to accept the bottle. Be­ switched on. There were two pro­ sides, the back was fixed with fessional-size spools of oxide-coat­ some special kind of fasteniDg, ed tape; about a third had wound not screws he could remove with from the left-hand spool to the h-is pocket-knife. right. A second glance revealed He thought of his travelling that there were no controls. bag, but on checking discovered Murray studied it for a while, he'd forgotten to bring the key and then shrugged. He knew from couldn't lock it. The hell. Gerry's nothing about tape recorders ex­ smff would simply have to go un­ cept to switch them on and off. He der the mattress for the time being. very much wmted to know, He pulled back the bedding. though, what this one was doing Under the bottom sheet, the mat­ in his bed. Another of the country tress, resting on the box-like divan club's facilities-soothing music base. And embroidered on it a cu­ under your pillow? All right: then rious complex design in metallic where was the spealter, and how thread, running the width of the did you turn the music off? mattress and eighteen inches in He wasn't going to be able to lie depth. on this bed until he'd asked a few Odd f Never seen a m11ttress pertinent questions. First, howet"­ like that before. er, he'd better hide Gerry's horse. He gathered a fistful of ticking A possibility occurred to him. and lifted the head of the mattress There was a pelmet along the cur­ with a grunt. A hinged panel was tam rail. It might just be roomy revealed, let into the base. enough to take the bottle. What the-? It was. He drew the curtains He managed to get the mattress back and forth to make sure he off entirely and let it slide to the wouldn't dislodge the bottle; satis­ floor. Something went twang, and fied, he went out. a glint caught his eye. He put out At the same moment, Gerry a cautious hand and located a met­ emerged from the toilet at the far al thread as fine as gossamer run­ end of the corridor and started ning from the embroidered pattern back to his room. THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 23 "Gerry!" Murray said. "Mind if "That's odd," Gerry muttered. I check up on something? I'd like "Do you suppose the tape's been to look at your bed!" wiped by accident?" Bewildered, Gerry watched as Murray dusted his hands to­ Murray peeled back his bedding gether. "It might have. Do you and revealed first the metal-thread know which is Lester's room? I embroidery, then an identical imagine he's the only person here hinged panel opening above an who knows about electronics." identicaltap~eck. "No, I don't." Gerry licked his "What's that for?" the designer lips. "Murray, aren't you making said blankly. • rather a big thing out of this? Sure­ "I haven't the slightest idea." ly it doesn't make any odds one "I suppose you found yours way or the other. Suppose you do while hiding my-my stuff." Ger· find one which plays music-so ry gave a weak chuckle. "Well, what?" that's one place I needn't bother Murray wasn't listening. He to look, anyway." was experimenting with the em· "That's right." Murray felt for broidery on the mattress. It only the fine metal thread linking the took a light touch to start the mattress with the base, which he spools turning; presumably it was had been careful not to snap. meant to respond to the weight of "Do you suppose it provides lul­ the sleeper's head on the pillow. laby music?" Gerry ventured. Footsteps came from the corri· "This club must have been a pret· dor; a door opened and closed. ty sybaritic place." "There's somebody," Murray "I thought of that. Trouble is, said. "Come on." I can't see any sign of a speaker." Puzzled, Gerry complied. Out Murray peered into the cavity in the corridor, however, it proved holding the tape-deck. impossible to tell which room the "Wouldn't the speaker be in the owner of the foot'Steps had en· mattress?" Gerry suggested, pok· tered. Murray put his ear to num· ing at the metallic embroidery. ber eleven, the next one to Gerry's, "What did you do?" Murray ex­ then to twelve, and shook his head. claimed. "Do it again!" "There's nobody in thirteen,• "I was only touching this em­ Gerry said with a forced chuckle. broidery," Gerry said. "I asked Valentine." "That's itl Look,. when you press "And fourteen's mine. Let's try on part of the pattern, the tape nine." starts to run." The turrets were Beyond that door he caught a turning steadily. "Well, where's faint sound of conversation. He your music?" Murray added. 'knocked. 24 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION "Who is it?" it was recording, not playing back. Heather. How interesting. Mur­ He had no idea why the point ray laid a small bet with himself. should make his skin crawl. Aioud, he said, "Murray here. Ger­ "Any idea where I can find ry Hoading's with me. Can we Sam?" he asked. "I'm not likely to come in? It's important." sleep till I get to the bottom of "All right-the door's open." this." Heather was sitting up in bed, Ida laughed. "You're a screwball, a satin bedjacket over her black Murray. So long as the one in my nightgown. In the easy-chair was bed is as quiet as this one I'll sleep Ida. Murray paid out on his bet. fine! But if you really want to "Well!" Ida drawled. "To what beard Sam in his den, I think do we owe this honour?" you'll find him and Delgado in the "Heather, does music come room on the right of the dining­ from your pillow when you lean room. They're using that as an of­ on it?" 1\turray said. fice. Me, I'm going to call it a day. Heather gave a giggle and shook 'Night, Heather sweetie." her head. She went out. After a pause, "All right, what's the punch­ Gerry did the same. line?" Ida demanded. "Murray, I wish you hadn't "If Heather will hop out of bed, made me know about this thing," I'll show you." Heather said, staring at the tape­ In bewilderment, Heather deck. "It's absurd, but it makes me sighed. "Very well, Ida darling, feel creepy-it being there for no give me my dressing-gown, will reason . . . Is there a reason?" vou?" "I don't know, darling," Mur­ ' She slid deftly out from be­ ray said grimly. "But I'm going to tween the sheets with decorum to try and find out, and if I do I'll satisfy the Lord Chamberlain, and come back and let you know­ 1\1 urray proceeded to reveal the okay?" embroidery, the connecting metal thread, and the hidden tape-deck. VIII Even Ida was startled out of her cynical manner. "I see what you The door of the room to which mean about music from the pil­ Ida had directed him was locked. low," she admitted. "But no sound He could hear the purr of an elec­ comes out when you start the tric typewriter and a mutter of spools, does it?" voices. He knocked. It occurred to Murray that there Shortly, Blizzard opened to was a condition in which a tape him. "Oh, it's you, Murray. What recorder never made a noise: when do you want?" THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 25 "Do I have to talk through the "Have it your way." Delgado door, or can I come in?" made a graceful gesture. "For me, Blizzard shrugged and drew it works excellently. I am not sat­ back. Murray went past. This isfied with a cast that puts on a would have been the secretary's of­ role for a few hours in the theatre fice in the country club, perhaps; and for the remainder of the day there were file cabinets, a desk and reverts to totally different behav­ a duplicator. Cherry Bell sat at the iour. I require a degree of identi­ typewriter, fingers flying over the fication which not even the Meth­ keys. In an easy-chair, Delgado od provides. Hypnopaedia offers a was turning over typed pages. technique for achieving this. "Is it something important, That's all." Murray?" Blizzard pressed. ''I'm not clear what you're talk­ "It's about the tape recorders ing about," Blizzard put in. hidden in our beds." "Then listen," Murray said. Murray was delighted to see an "There are hidden tape-decks in expression of dismay fleet over our beds. They're connected to a Delgado's beautifully controlled · switch in the mattress; when you visage. lie down, they begin to run. Del­ 'What on earth are you talking gado is trying to say they're for about?" Blizzard snapped. perfecting a role during sleep­ "Delgado knows what I mean. that you get your lines or some­ Don't you, Delgado?" thing repeated and repeated to "Yes, I know." The author put you. What lines are you thinking his pile of papers on the corner of of giving Gerry, Delgado? He's a Cherry's typing table. "It's part of designer, not an actor!" my method of working, about "I didn't install those recorders which you've learned practically specially," Delgado countered. nothing." "They were intended to play sooth­ Murray had an indefinable feel­ ing music to the users of the coun­ ing that Delgado was improvising try club. They are in all the beds." his answer, but there was nothing "Really! Then explain why to prove it. there's no sign of a speaker with "Go on," he challenged harshly. any of them. And no music on the "Do you understand the mean­ tapes!" ing of the word hypnopaedia?" "Oh dear." Delgado made the "You mean this notion which words bear a weight of exaggerat­ keeps cropping up about getting a ed patience. "Murray, I simply higher education painlessly in had the instruments reconnected your sleep? I've heard of it. And to see if they are operating prop­ I'm also aware it doesn't work." erly. Accordingly I had a spool of 26 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION blank tape put on each. As for the but got no answer. He went on to speakers, they are inside the mat­ his own room with his face set in tress. Moreover, even when in­ a frown. Before putting the bed struction tapes are used, the sound back together he pulled free the is at the very limit of perception­ fine wire from the mattress; there in fact, subliminal. If it were was a good twenty yards of it. louder it would risk disturbing the There was no point of attach­ sleeper. Now are you satisfied?" ment. There was no speaker inside Blizzard bit the end off a cigar. the mattress. Delgado was lying. He said, "Why didn't you mention But if there was no speaker, this to me, Manuel? It's interest­ equally there was no microphone ing, but-" -just the wire. Could that serve "Because the existence of tape­ as a mike, or speaker, by itself? He decks already in the beds meant had no way of telling. I did not have to ask you to go and The hell with it. He put the bed hire me a dozen of them. Is this roughly back together and climbed really worth so much fuss?" in. Eventually sleep came, like a "I guess not. But if you have switch being turned. any more surprises like this to He had no immediate chance of spring on the cast, it might be bet­ questioning Lester Harkham next ter to let them know." day. None of the other three who "Positively not. As it is, I am a knew about the tape-decks seemed little annoyed that Murray has particularly concerned. Heather stumbled on this. There may be a did ask what he had learned, but tendency to resist subconsciously for her it was enough that Delgado the effect of the tape. However, we had furnished some kind of expla­ shall see." nation; the point that it could not A few moments earlier, Cherry have been the whole truth she dis­ had removed the last sheets of pa­ missed with a shrug. per from her typewriter. Into the By evening, Murray was won­ pause following Delgado's remark, dering whether it mattered. Under she said, "Finished, Mr. Blizzard." Delgado's guidance form was al­ "Good girl." Blizzard seemed to ready emerging from the chaos of pull himself together. "Give the rival ideas. No doubt about it­ last page to Mr. Delgado and you this man was good. can turn in. Was that all you want-. Who the hell cared how he ed, Murray?" chose to get results? Let him use "Not by a long chalk, but I black magic if he wanted tol It guess it'll have to do for now." was clear that no one liked him He knocked on Heather's door much, but he was generating im­ to tell her what Delgado had said mense respect. THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME As yesterday, he stopped every­ So far, so good. Now Murray thing at five o'clock. They looked could bring up the matter of the around as if startled to discover tape-recorders casually. And he themselves back in the little thea­ was looking forward with some tre, then began to disperse, declar­ eagerness to hearing Lester's com­ ing extreme exhaustion and the ments. desperate need of a drink. Jess stayed at the piano, experi­ IX menting with a progression he could not get right; Gerry jumped "Got those don't-do-it-yourself up on the stage with a steep tape fastenings, I see." Lester bent to in his hand, making notes for his inspect the TV set, fishing in his proposed set, and Lester Harkham hip pocket. He produced a multi­ -who had been playing the com­ purpose electrician's screwdriver pact yet extensive lighting system and set to work. "What do you like a musical instrument-re­ make of this affair so far, Murray? mained in the aisle, his expression Bit of a phenomenon, our friend thoughtful. Delgado, isn't he?" Maybe it did feel absurd to "I'm impressed," Murray admit­ make such a fuss about the tape ted. "Though there's a lot more I recorders, Murray decided, but want to know about him." there was an indirect approach he "Don't we alii" Lester twisted could try ... the first of the fastenings loose and "Lester, can you spare me a few attacked the next. ''You know, minutes? Look, keep this to your­ when Sam first put the plan up to self, but -Gerry has asked me to me, I told him he was off his nut. look after a jar of horse for him, But now I'm beginning to think he because he's afraid if he gets de­ wasn't so stupid. Take me, for in­ pressed he may overdose himself. stance. Normally I'd just be sitting The best place I've ever found to in the back row chewing my nails. hide something like that is inside a As it is, what I'm doing is defini­ TV set. But I can't get the back off tive, apart from changes Gerry may mine, and I don't want to foul up want for-Jesus God!" the machinery. Could you give me He snatched his hand away a hand?" from the TV set. Lester looked blank. "That's "This damned thing's live! I got about the oddest request I've ever the healthiest shock I've had in had!" he exclaimed. "But I can years." Shaking his hand as though find my way around a TV set to cool it, he inspected the on-off okay. I'll be with you in a mo­ knob, then went into a string of ment.• technicalities about live chassis 28 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION and condensers not discharging gang of extra stuff's been added. which Murray didn't attempt to Murray, was that story you spun me folJow. just an excuse to have me investi­ "Want me to unplug it?" gate?" "Yes! I ought to have done that "Now why should you think myself." Lester put his hand on top that?" Murray countered. of the set. "Funny-it's stone cold, "Something Ida was saying over and if there were current passing lunch about you ~nding weird you'd expect it to smell warm, at electronic gadgets in your bed." least." "Oh! Well, I'm glad you've Murray traced the thick cable heard about it, anyway." He ran leading from the set to the floor. It quickly over the events of last vanished at the edge of the fitted night. Lester, listening, poked carpet; he dropped on one knee. around in the TV set with his in­ and turned the carpet back. sulated screwdriver. "Curiouser and curiouser," he "For sleep-learning, hm?" he murmured. "Lester, this flex goes commented at length. "WelJ, that's under the skirting board. LoQk garbage for a start. Still, if Del­ here." gado likes to kid himself that it's Close to the wall, a piece of useful, it won't do any harm." floorboard had been cut away and "Without a speaker for the the cable led down through the slot sound? I told you-all the wire so created. The wood was clean came off my mattress. It wasn't and white; the work had been done connected to anything." recently. "Well, there are some experi­ "It must be a rediffusion sys­ mental instalJations-" Lester tem," Lester said with half-hearted checked. "No, it's ridiculous. They optimism. "Though you usually cost about five hundred apiece. have an external selector with re­ Can I have a look at this gadget?" diffusion, and sound as well as the "What's left of it," Murray said. TV channels. Let me take another ''You can see the wire embroidery look, if I can avoid getting shocked on your own mattress, I imagine, again." but-" He broke off. He had He removed the rear panel of turned down the bedding, and the the set and peered inside. He gave embroidery was back. a whistle. "Delgado must take this serious­ "Something else funny?" Mur­ ly," he said with forced lightness. ray suggested, unsurprised. "He's supplied a replacement!" "Very. I've never seen a clutter Lester inspected it, heaved up of circuits like this before. The the mattress and satisfied himself basic stuff's here-I think-but a about the tape recorder. THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 29 "Tell you one thing," he said hang their tongues out and buy a harshly. "This stuff on the mat­ black box for a hundred quid and tress couldn't possibly act either as slick operator bows out chuckling. speaker or mike." My guess is that Delgado uses his ''Then what's it for?" halfway convincing excuse about "If I had to make a guess . " sleep-learning to cover for a bit of Lester bit his lip. "I'd say it was pure nonsense." some kind of field-sensitive anten­ Murray hesitated. That was na." He made compasses of thumb plausible; he'd once worked for a and forefinger and measured off few weeks with someone who was sections of the embroidery. "There's paying out fat fees to a charlatan definitely a harmonic ratio in­ for minerals to improve the colour volved in the design. The straight of his aura, but hated to admit the runs might form a dipole-like a fact. TV aerial." He shook his head. "At first glance," Lester con­ "Could there be a connection?" tinued, "that pattern makes a sort Murray snapped, pointing at the of sense. But on close inspection it open back of the TV set. doesn't figure. It's got just about "No idea. The tangle inside that the right half-baked quality." set would take hours to sort out, "And the stuff in the TV set, and with the HT load it's carrying too?" I don't fancy the job." "More than likely. But as far "Have you no idea what's been as I'm concerned Delgado can added?" believe in table-turning if he "None at all. Tell you one thing, chooses." Lester clapped Murray though-there isn't room forGer­ on the shoulder. "I'd have thought ry's stuff. I'd better put the panel you were glad enough to be here back." without bothering about Delgado's "Are you going to ask Delgado cranky notions. Not meaning to be about it?" rude." "You want my honest opinion?" Murray forced a smile. "You're Lester said slowly. "I don't believe quite right. Better this than the it would be worth the trouble. I breadline." think it'll turn out that Delgado has a streak of cockeyed mysticism Murray lit a cigarette and stared which he's ashamed of. Nowadays at the mattress. a lot of people who don't know a Sure. Very plausible. But-I diode from a horse's ear falJ for think it goes deeper. slick operators mouthing high­ He came to a decision. It was on sounding phrases about tuning in the level of poking a stick into a on the cosmic wavelengths. They hornets' nest to see what would 30 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION happen, but he was growing impa· X tient; these irksome problems were destroying his concentration, his The reaction came, but Murray ability to sink himself in the crea· had to wait until an hour after the tion of the play. end of dinner. Once more he pulled the metal Rain rattled at the windows. thread off the mattress and balled Keeping up a desultory conversa· it up. Then he picked the TV set tion with Adrian Gardner, he was up with a grunt-it was much struck by a casual thought. The heavier than it looked-and car· group was becoming positively ried it across the room. agoraphobic. No one had suggest· When the cable was taut, he ed exploring the local pubs or even took a fresh grip, and lunged for­ walking around the grounds. The ward, expecting the cable either to shower might have been an Arctic break or pull loose. It did neither. snowstorm. Another six or seven feet of it Go for a drwe tomorrow, maybe. emerged from the hole in the floor, Don't want to box in my mind com­ and from beyond the wail-in pletely . .• room thirteen-there was a monu· "Excuse me, Ade. I'd like a pri· mental crash. vate word with Murray." A smile quirked Murray's With a start Murray returned mouth. He restored the television from his private musings. Blizzard set to its stand and turned back had appeared and taken a chair the carpet over the extra length of facing him. cable. "Yes, Sam-what can I do for Then he opened the door a you?" Murray said. quarter-inch and waited, eye to "You can stop being a damned the narrow slit. Shortly, he was r~ nuisance," Blizzard answered. He warded by seeing the normally im· bit the end off a cigar and spat it perturbable Valentine come down into an ashtray. the corridor at a dead run. "Sam, if you're trying to get my The door of room thirteen back up I warn you you won't like opened and closed. He put his ear it when you succeed," Murray mur· to the dividing wall. All he heard, mured. though, was a tinkling and clang· "Have you been mucking about ing as though Valentine were pick­ with your TV set?" ing up the pieces. "I thought I might prefer it on Good enough. Now to find out the other side of the bed," Murray what Delgado's reaction was. He said blandly. "I confess to that left the room and went whistling cheerfully." downstairs. Blizzard glowered at him. but THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 31 his professional mask was proof won't misunderstand me unless against the scrutiny. Finally the you want to. I'm no happier than dil'ector sighed. anyone else with this notion of "Well, don't do it again. Valen­ cramming a dozen highly-strung tine came to me practically in hys­ people under one roof and working terics. All the sets upstairs are con­ them •P to fever-pitch. But it hap­ nected to a rediffusion system. Ap­ pens to be Delgado's method of parently you hauled on your flex working, and if he wants it I want and it pulled over a stand and it. What's your impression of him?" smashed about fifty quid's wort.h of ''I'm still working it out." equipment. I don't have to tell )'{)U "I've been involved with him for there's more money behind this four or five months. I know what I venture than anything else I've think about him. The man is a ever tangled with. but its' not a twenty-four-carat genius. Ever hear bottoml8ss supply." me say that about anyone else?" "So it's supposed to be a redif­ ''No." fusion system," Murray nodded. "He has fantastic talent. He "How odd. Lester didn't think it has incredible money behind him, was." from an Argentine billionaire who "Lester! So that was your doing, wants to prove some point about too. Murray, is your vanity hurt, or his country's culture. I have to something? Because if you don't keep this gang of neurotics under like it here-" control-ah, sorry! It slipped out." Murray cut in. The passion in "\Ve're all neurotic," Murray Blizzard's voice had taken him said without humour. aback. "What am I supposed to "Yes. The point is, I don't want have done to Lester?" irtelevancies to foul us up. If Del­ "He came to me before dinner gado believes in sleep-learning, with a solemn warning about Del­ neither you nor Lester will make gado. He thinks he's a crank be­ me interfere. But I'm nat 'banning cause of these tape recorders in the curiosity'! I'm trying to keep the beds. Murray, will you please do project on the rails." me a favour and shut your big Murray hesitated. He felt slight­ mouth?" ly ashamed of himself. He said at "Sam, are you trying to run this length, "You could have started off place like a concentration camp? better, Sam. Don't think I'm un­ Are you putting a ban on curios­ grateful-l'm glad to be involved ity? You know the people we have -but on the strength of Delgado's here! You want hysteria?" film, and his work in Paris, you "Listen to me, Murray. \Ve could have asked for Fleet Dickin­ know each other pretty well, so you son or . . . Or could you?" 32 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION He hadn't meant to finish in Blizzard made the words a chal­ those words. But a memory of what lenge. "And after only two working Roger Grady had said crossed his days!" mind. "Oh, granted!" Fortunately Blizzard took the "I was concerned, too," Bliz­ question at face value. "No. Del­ zard admitted after a pause. "Still, gado is authoritarian as hell. He it's the way he works . . . That does it cleverly, and so long as was another reason for not trying you're caught up in his enthusiasm to get Fleet or someone like him. you don't mind. But I've worked Fleet is very choosy; not even Del­ with Fleet more times than I can gado's reputation would make him remember-and he's used to being buy a part sight unseen." boss." "Especially in view of the way He broke off. "Murray, it just hit Delgado's mind works." me. This is the first time I've seri­ "How's that?" ously talked about what we're do­ "He said it himself-cancer ing with anybody except Delgado. and gangrene. I thought it was a I don't know what's come over me." form of words designed to shock us. "He's come over you," Murray But he means it. And it makes me said. ''I'm worried. I mean, it's feel a bit dirty." good to know you have such confi­ "Come off it," Blizzard said. dence in the guy, but for Christ's "We do have a sick society. And I sake don't lose your objectivity. I can't imagine you making the same can see us going up with a stinker comment about Genet." and we'll all be drunk on it and Murray stared past Blizzard, think it's a masterpiece." hunting words. "It's not the same. "I'm doing my best. But until we Genet is obsessed with things that have our completed script I'm more are intrinsically unattractive­ of a housefather than a director, buggery and petty theft . . . aren't I?" Whereas Delgado has this knack of Murray frowned. "Yes ... You making things which are perfectly know, in spite of what Roger Grady respectabl~ stink in your nostrils. told me, I expected at least to be You know what I mean." given a plot and then maybe build He checked for a moment, then dialogue around it. I was think­ went on in a lower tone. "Sam, is ing okay, it's experimental, but it part of Delgado's method of work­ might be an oddball success like­ ing to coop us up together like say-Cassavetes's Shadows. I sure­ a real-life Huis Clos until we're ly was not expecting to find we had ready to scream, and then put the nothing at all." screaming on the stage?" "But we have something now!" Blizzard sidestepped the ques- THB PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 33 tion. ''What gives you that idea, Stop saying 'Mr. Blizzard told me'. Murray?" I know as well as you do that Del­ "Two things. One is what Del­ gado gives the orders around here, gado said about wanting an identi­ not Sam Blizzard." fication deeper than Method stuff. "I don't know what you mean, The other is the crowd you picked. sir." Valentine's voice was plausi­ Me and liquor. Gerry and horse. bly coloured with surprise, but he Ade and his pretty little boys. Con­ shifted his weight from foot to foot. stant grabbing his first chance out "Then you'd better find out," of rep and into the West End­ Murray suggested, and made for and probably his last, too. People his room. who can't afford to lose their tem­ Crazy damned setup • . . Poor pers and walk out, because this is Sam's in a flat spin. But he's right: the make-or-break opportunity." I'm apt to make things worse if I go "Any time you want to you can on about the tape recorders and get in your car and go wherever the junk in room thirteen • • • I'll you like," Blizzard said stiffiy. "If pipe down. that's cooping you up I'm a Dutch­ But even having reached that man." decision, he went through what "I think I shall do exactly that. threatened to become a nightly rit­ The rain's stopped. Some fresh air ual and stripped twenty yards of won't do me any harm." fine wire from his mattress before He was out in the hallway be­ he got into bed. fore he realised Blizzard hadn't given him a straight answer. He XI was debating whether to go back for one, when Valentine material­ "Okay, break now! See you back ised from the dining-room. at ten to two!" "Are you going out, sir?" he in­ "Break, he says," Ida stage-whis­ quired. pered with Maria Marten force. "Why do you want to know?" "Me, I'm broken already. Foofl" Murray countered. Murray made a sort of mental "I have been requested by Mr. check on a calendar in his head. Blizzard to close the main gate at Thursday: Sam gives the order to eleven, sir. But I can arrange for break instead of Delgado. Maybe it to remain open if you wish." we're really going to have a play. "No. No, that won't be neces­ There was even a title now. No­ sary. I've changed my mind." body had picked it-just suddenly "Very good, sir." Valentine gave it had been used. Upstream. Not a hint of a bow. bad. "But do me a favour, will you? It's moving. We have a set of 34 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION characters. We have Gerry out the He smiled and took her ann. back somewhere making canvas They had just reached the hall flats. • • when Ida caught them up. His recital of items on the credit "Well, well! Is this a private side stopped abruptly. He had · party or can anyone come? Going spotted a figure in shadow along­ to lunch, Heather honey?" side the projection booth. Heather. Self-consciously, the girl freed Good God, she isn't in here yeti her arm. "Murray suggested going He jumped from the stage and to a pub for a sandwich." went up the aisle to her. "Hello," "In his two-seater car, no he said. "\Vhere've you been?" doubt." Ida tossed her head. She forced a smile. "Oh, I went "Watch it-don't you :know what to give Gerry a hand." happens to Murray's women?" Half the story, Murray decided. There was an electric silence. The rest was in the redness of her Murray turned to stand square to eyes. Been having a quiet private Ida, his hands folding into fists mourn. No, this wasn't fair. Now like rocks. he cast his mind back, it struck "I'd beat the hell out of you if him that no one-not even Ida­ you were a man," he said at last. had attempted to draw Heather "But you don't carry things quite into either discussion or the extem­ that far, do you?" porisation sessions. It was clear to Ida she'd over­ "Why?" he said finally. stepped the mark, and she was "\Veil, I seem to be sort of sur­ afraid to reply. She spun around plus to requirement." and marched away. "\Vhat requirement? You were As they passed through the front hired, weren't you? So it's your door, Heather said, "Murray­ business to remind us that you're what did Ida mean?" here." "You don't have to pay attention She looked alarmed. to everything she says." "Oh, grief," Murray muttered. "Murray, I don't want to be "I'm not snapping at you-just ad­ nosy. But what she said hurt. You vising you to push a bit. Come on, couldn't hide it. I don't want to say let's have lunch." anything by mistake which might "No-uh-no, I don't feel hun­ upset you. Does that sound silly?" gry. I think I'm going for a breath He opened the door of the car of air instead." for her, got in himself, and sat for "You know, that's not a bad idea. a few seconds in silence. Then he \Ve've got three-quarters of an shrugged. hour. Let's go and have a sandwich "What's the good of kidding my­ in a pub." self? It's been gossiped around for THE. PRODUCTIONS 01' TIME 35 ages." He drew a deep breath. "My Murray because he had not come to wife went out of her mind. She ask for a shot of his drug since walked off one night when I was Monday night. at the theatre. They found her two He wasn't. the only one feeling weeks later in a house in Poplar good. Murray began the first run­ with a couple of tarts and one of through of what was shaping into a London's most prosperous pimps. complete first act unaware of how The only blessing was that she'd his mood was colouring his perfor­ given an invented name. She's in a mance; then he started to catch on, bin and she'll never come out. Sat­ because he was in turn stimulating isfied?'' Ida. His bitterness felt right; it "Oh, my God." There was no didn't belong to him, but to the voice behind the words-just man he was creating. breath. "\Vas that why you ... ?" It was a tremendous advance on "Drank?" Murray started the en­ anything earlier. But when Bliz­ gine. "i\'ot really. I started drink­ zard, looking pleased, gave Del­ ing to quiet my conscience. If I gado a questioning look, the only hadn't treated her like a wilful comment he received was brusque. child when what she needed was "Again, from the start. Cherry, psycl1iatric help, she might be well let me see your notes." by now. ~furray Douglas is a bas­ Back to first positions. During tard. Bear that in mind." the repeat, 1\Jurray's mind began to He spun the wheels on the drift away from his body, some­ gravel so that stones rattled under thing that seldom happened before the body like hail. At the gate, he a run reached the point where the spoke again. character had taken over his face, "And mv other bad characteris­ voice and gestures. Now he could tic is self-I;ity. Suppose we change already consider lines of develop­ the subject, okay?" ment for the second and last act. Yet by five that afternoon he was Odd ... Fifty similarities, but preparing to thank her for bringing nothing derivati11e. Hints of Mil­ the matter up. Paradoxically the ler, Tennessee Williams-trans­ old bitterness benefited his acting muted/ This man, me, Arch Wilde, during the rest of the day's work. this curious allusive way my fam­ During the lunch-break Gerry ily is a microcosm-of course, it's had carried in four flats, the paint the two sons, Al and Rett, which still wet on them, and had ar­ suggests Miller-of a corrupt ranged tables and chairs into a world when there's not one word sketch for his projected two-level to make corruption explicit, only set. He was grinning like an ape; situations any audie11ce will recog­ his exhilaration was astonishing to uise and yet the 'll.ilzole will turu 36 FANTASY AND SCJENCI. FICTION their stomachs , , • Subtler tJum Astonishingly, it was Ida who Williams. Like nightnuz.re. God, spoke out. She planted her hands it's frightening. on her hips, glowering at Delgado. He didn't dare consider what "Jesus, I'm not exactly in love with Delgado's mind must be like. Murray, but be's turning in the Never thought I'd be glaJ to look best performance I've ever seen so much older than I am, bait to from him, and you bloody well have two sons that age I mast be know it. What's the idea? Are you forty-five and I 'hl.wen't luul to poking pins in us to make us think myself ahet:Jd those dozen squirm?" years, I've grown into them . • • "If you are insensitive to what It's crying out for overt nightmare I am talking about," Delgado said tzow, a Bloomsday treatment with with a sneer, "apparently you are characters assuming grotesque not fitted to my needs either. To­ proportions and we can use Heath­ morrow when you've recovered er somewhere . .. Hell of a note if from your tantrums we can get her first big chance goes phffft- down to some work. Right now­ "Stopl" Cherry, your papers, please." What? Everyone looked at Del­ The girl handed him the file in gado. Blizzard was the first to which all the notes and drafts had find his tongue; he had not been accumulated; they were working snatched back from the deepest from memory and a prompt copy, level of characterisation anyone but there hadn't been a line fluffed on stage had ever achieved. this afternoon. "Manuel, why in heaven's name "So!" Delgado said, getting up. -?" ''You see I am serious." "I said stop. That's enough. You He took the file, which held a are beginning to have some idea, so good hundred sheets of paper, in tomorrow we will begin and make both hands. He tore it in half, put the real play." the halves together and tore them. Blizzard got up, fuming, amid a In spite of everything, those chorus of support. "You can't mean watching gasped at this display of to throw away a week's work when strength. we're running smooth as butter!" "Now go away," Delgado said, "You think so? There is nothing letting the scraps fall in a white in it worth keeping. This Murray shower. He strode up. the aisle. Douglas you sold me with such fine Blizzard hurried after him, words is betraying the concept­ shouting, and vanished. Murray not feeling, but acting. He is a looked around. shell and the effect is buffoonery." "Think he means it?" Adrian "That's a damned lie for a startf" said nervously. TI-IJ:: PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 37

"Of course he means it," Murray made, but you were dazzled by ~:o­ snapped. "And the hell of it is, ing through the motions and Del­ there's not one of us who can afford gado was watching from out front." to spit in his face and walk away. "1-1 thought it was very good." God dam11 the man!" From halfway to the back of the auditorium, Heather's voice came XII uncertainly. · "Be quiet!" Constant rapped. There was a pause. :\Iurray be­ "You've been a complete passenger came aware of an incomprehensi­ so far, so keep out of it, will you?" ble fact. The faces turned to him "Constant's right," Rett Latham were incredulous. said. "Delgado will stick by what "Walk out?" Constant said. he said, and what made him say it 'Who said anything about walking was Murray's performance, and out? Just because he lore you off a we've wasted a week's work. Makes strip there's no need to go high­ me sick." horse on us." There was so much hostility "\Yait a moment! \Vhat are you battering I\f urray's mind he could snapping at me for? This idiot Del­ think of nothing to say. While gado-'' he was tonguetied Gerry Hoad­ "I heard what he said, I heard ing came on stage. He drew and what Ida said, and the fact re­ opened a knife. Face dead white, mains he didn't like what you were he slashed across his painted can­ doing and because of that we have vas flats. That achieved, he also to start over. Fact?" strode out. Jess slammed his hands down in 'Well, there's one of us who a jagged chord, jumped up and takes it seriously," AI Wilkinson headed for the exit. Lester fol­ said. "Rett,let's get out of here." lowed him, shoulders hunched de­ One by one they moved away. jectedly. Ida was the last. Before going she "Maybe he just wants to shake spoke to Murray barely above a us up," Adrian suggested. whisper. "I think you're kidding your­ "Delgado is a nut case! But I self," Ida muttered. "The guy's a guess you'll have to figure out what nut case, and you have as much it was he didn't like." chance of persuading him to Murray shrugged. If he'd been change his mind as making the acting well enough to provoke ap­ Thames flow backwards." proval from Ida, he hadn't been "I don't know what's made you deluding himself. Therefore Del­ take Murray's side," Constant said. gado's outburst had had nothing to "'That was a pretty speech you do with his performance. 38 FANTASY AND SCIENCE. FICTION

Which leaves personal a~zimos­ over the middle row of seating. ity. But why me? Because I've That was Gerry's door. asked awkward tpUstions? "God's name!" Murray said, and In the aisle, Ida paused and left the theatre at a run. · and looked towards Heather. There was no answer when he "Sweetie, let's go and settle ac­ rapped on the designer's door. He counts with Constant for what he went to his own room and felt said to you," she suggested. along the pelmet; the little jar of "It was true, wasn't it?" Heather heroin was still there, and the level answered in a subdued voice, but didn't seem to have gone down. Yet she moved to fall in disconsolately he still had a sense of foreboding. at Ida's side. That left Murray He went back to put his ear against alone. the panels of Gerry's door. He'd predicted that this place A tinkle, metal on metal. An­ was going to turn into an asylum. other, probably glass on metal. The Could anyone have picked a surer sound of a match being struck. The way of bringing that about? God, it sounds built so vivid a picture that was going to be hell tonight! he was frightened. He left the stage, wondering "Gerry!" he shouted, and began how he could escape the worst of to beat on the door like a drum. it. No good just going out for the "Murray, what are you playing evening-things would be still at?" Suddenly the harsh voice of worse tomorrow if Delgado stuck Constant broke on him; he had to his word ... emerged from the next room, num­ He had reached the rank of seats ber eleven. where Heather had been. A bit of "Give me a hand tp break in this white caught his eye: a handker­ door!" Murray rapped. chief forgotten on the seat. He "Are you crazy?" picked it up, feeling it damp as "You idiot! Gerry's overdosing though with tears. Poor damned himself with horse-you going to kid. Why had Blizzard hired her stand by while he lies .dying?" and then left her out in the cold? Constant's face paled. He an­ It almost suggested that she was swered by crossing the corridor to laid on for Ida in the same way stand beside Murray. that a supply of horse had been "On three," Murray said curtly. provided for Gerry- "One-two-three!" Faint but distinct, he heard The lock ripped jaggedly from a door closing overliead, and in­ the wood of the jamb. There was a stantly every other thought was long second in which Gerry was gone from his mind. turning from the table on which Gerry had said his room must be lay his tackle-a dish with a sy- THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 39 ringe in it, a jar of white powder, him into the corridor. He spoke and a spirit lamp. In his hand was with difficulty. a spoon with the handle oddly "Uh-Murray, I guess I should bent; his left sleeve was rolled apologise. I don't see why Delgado back. was so angry. Sorry I jumped down Then Murray had snatched at your throat." the spoon and was forcing the hy­ "If I hadn't been so taken aback, sterical man back towards the bed. I'd have jumped down his first," He shrieked and struck out at ran­ Murray said. "But thanks anyway." dom till Constant managed to pin­ "1-uh-guess you saved Ger­ ion his arms. ry's life. That right?" Murray pointed at a tiny smear "I don't know," Murray said of blood already oozing on the left uncomfortably. "Possibly. There's one. "So it was going to be your enough to kill a regiment in here. second shot!" He said he was getting it uncut, "Damn you," Gerry said thinly. and you know Will Rogers killed "Get out. Both of you." himself with a shot of uncut horse, "Not yet," Murray said, and as when he wasn't used to it." Gerry slumped back picked up the "But where did he get the stuff? jar of heroin. "Constant, make sure He couldn't afford that much!" there isn't any more of this stuff in Murray was on the point of an­ here." swering. He checked. He had just "Isn't that enough? I've never spotted, through the open door of seen so much of it!" Constant's room, a book lying on "He gave me another jar to hide the bedside table. for him. Where there are two there "May I look?" he said, and with­ may be a dozen. Start looking." out waiting for permission went in. "Get out," Gerry said again, but He turned to the title page and didn't move. Sweat was running read aloud. like water on his face. "Justine: or the Misfortunes of Murray checked every place he the Virtuous, by the Marquis de could think of. He drew a blank, Sade, newly done into English as did Constant. Gerry's eyes were by-" He stared at Constant before closed by the time they finished. resuming. "By Algernon Charles The first shot had hit, and he Swinburne. With one hundred il­ would sleep for an hour or so. lustrations by various hands. Lon­ "I guess he'll be all right," Mur­ don, privately printed, 1892." ray said. "But let's take his gear in Constant flushed. "It's not case he's shamming." He picked up mine," he said self-excusingly. HI the dish with the syringe and blew found it here. Some of the draw­ out the lamp. Constant followed ings look like Beardsley." 40 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION Murray dropped it and bent to What other explanation was examine a shelf similar to the one there? Gerry couldn't have af­ in his own room. Its contents were forded to buy it. It was on the very different. Juliette was here, house. and the 120 Days, Miller's Rosy He felt sick. There was a calcu­ Crucifixion, a handsome Fanny lated nastiness in this affair which Hill, and a dozen more he'd never he was sure could only have origi­ heard of, with titles like Flagitiosa nated with Delgado. "His method and Put it Down to Exqueerience. of working" -faugh! What did it "You're welcome to borrow any really consist in: rubbing the of them," Constant said. nerves of his actors raw? "No thanks." Murray straight­ For the first time he began to ened. "I have enough trouble with consider the chance of contacting my own weaknesses without ac­ someone who had worked on Trois quiring someone else's." Fois ala Fois. "Don't be so bloody superior, Yet some of the cast seemed ea­ Murray!" Constant said with a flash ger to jump when Delgado cracked of his usual acerbity. his whip. Take the way Constant "Sorry. But you were asking how had joined in blaming Murray for Gerry got his horse. The same way the catastrophe. He'd apologised, you got those books. He found the but it had taken the shock of seeing stuff in his room. The same way I Gerry in danger to make him think found enough liquor to tempt a of being ashamed. Even Adrian, saint. You know something? If you the most experienced member, opened up Delgado's skull, I think hadn't contradicted Delgado. Only you'd find a sewer instead of a Ida had done so-and Heather; but brain." she was irrelevant . . • Back in the theatre, he'd been XIII telling himself it was as though Heather were merely "on the house" Murray balanced the dish and for Ida, like liquor, heroin and the second jar of heroin behind the pornography. The idea figured. pelmet. Letting his hands fall to Except-what was the purpose be­ his sides, he was abruptly aware of hind it all? great weakness. The shoulder with Oh, damn Delgado! Murray which he had c.harged the door strode to the bed. There was only ached, and the trend of his one thing he'd been able to do so thoughts grew dark. far to kid himself he was hitting Tomorrow, will one of those back, and that was his nightly rou­ stewards leave another jar and an­ tine of stripping the embroidery other syringe for Gerry to find? off the mattress. Just as regularly, THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 41 each morning it was replaced or a again. Because Gerry Hoading new mattress was found. It had overdosed himself with horse. Be­ happened again: there was the cause-"? tracery of wire. No. He ripped it off. Then he twisted He drove his mind back to the spools off the tape-deck, went immediate problems. Suppose he to the window, and tossed them out found himself in this spot without like carnival streamers. It made having annoyed Delgado, without him feel better, but it was still a knowing about tapa-decks or TV childish gesture. He took a grip on sets? himself. It didn't figure. There wasn't any Unless he made sense out of other reason why Delgado should what Delgado was doing before to­ abandon a play that was going like morrow, there would be hell to pay. wildfire except sadism or annoy­ The resentment against him-con­ ance with the person he'd attacked. jured up on the author's say-so, but And Murray knew exactly how fierce enough-had only started to he'd upset Delgado. smoulder. If tomorrow's work went He was going to probe a bit fur­ badly it would blaze. It might ruin ther. Where to begin? How about the entire venture. And Murray room thirteen? But the cable of had an obscure conviction Del­ the TV was secured now-he'd gado wouldn't care. checked-and the door was always So what was he after? Was he locked ..• not interested in the play? Was he Got it. He craned out of the win­ a character out of one of Constant's dow. Yes, if Gerry's room was over books, getting his kicks by making the middle of the seating in the people squirm, with enough money theatre, and his own was over the behind him not to worry if thou· greenrooms, then room thirteen sands of pounds were squandered? must be over the stage. No, it was too far-fetched. He'd He wondered if he could get to made a success of his film, as well its window, but there was nothing as Trois Fois a la Fois . . . to give him purchase, not even a Memory interrupted in Roger drainpipe. So downstairs. Grady's voice: "Because Garrigue He peered up into the deep killed· himself. Because Lea Marti· shadow between the curtain and nez went into an asylum. Because the Hies. Was that some kind of Claudette Myrin tried to murder grille over the ceiling? By adding her daughter." one more chair to the chairs and Would Roger be saying, next tables from which Gerry had im· year or the year after, "Because provised his two-level set, he could Murray Douglas started drinking get up there and check. He pro- 42 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION ceeded to do so. There was a grille. hundreds of sheets of paper, Mur­ Beyond it, something glinted. ray recognised the value of the Bare wires-or metal rods, per­ threat. There was no alternative to haps; they were quite thick. By the compliance. wan flame of his lighter he peered "I'm getting very tired of you,'' and poked with his finger between Delgado went on. "You seem to the bars of the grille. enjoy being a nuisance too much Nothing he recognised. It was to appreciate that you're here, re­ something akin to the embroidery ceiving excellent pay, with the on the mattresses. Curves, straight chance of partaking in something lines, spirals, threw light back at which will make theatrical his­ him. They wove between the grille tory-" and ceiling over the entire stage, as "Did you write your speech far as he could tell- yourself?" Murray broke in. "Or is "What do you find so interest­ it collectively improvised?" ing, Murray?" For the second time in minutes Murray started and almost fell he had the satisfaction of discom­ off his high perch. On the floor of forting Delgado. The voice grew the auditorium stood Delgado, shrill. sallow face dark with rage. Mur­ "Why have you been destroying ray gathered his wits. things that don't belong to you? "If you don't know, nobody Why are you trying to make trou­ else around here is likely to!" ble?" Delgado took half a pace back. "Because you're a bad liar and "Come down at once! There's deli­ a worse actor." It was heartening cate equipment up there, and to be able to assume command of you've smashed up quite enough the situation, and Murray seized already with your damned inquis­ the chance. "First lie: your story itiveness!" about sleep-learning. Second lie: "Okay, I'll make a bargain with your accusation this afternoon, so you. Tell me what this stuff is, dishonest even Ida saw through and I'll stop prying. But I want it. Third lie: this crap about the­ the truth, mind!" atrical history. I don't believe you Delgado's response was to give a damn about creating a play. mount the stage and lay one hand You're an evil little man with a on the leg of a table support­ lust for power, and it means more ing Murray. "If you don't come to you to have people dance when down, I'll pull this over and you pull their strings than to bring you down." achieve something artistically Remembering the casual strength worthwhile. I agree with Sam: with which Delgado had torn you do have talent enough to THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME 43 build a masterpiece out of your you-after all, it wasn't my fault material. But you won't get me you drank yourself into the gutter. grovelling to you either with Still, you have so~ne trace of spirit threats or bribes. You can feed left. If not, I would tell Blizzard Gerry his heroin and Constant hi,s to get rid of you." dirty books and maybe they'll "Your technique is showing," think you're doing them a favour. Murray said with scorn. "To But if you put mumbo-jumbo dodge straight questions, you toss trickery in my bed and stuff mys­ out insults, hoping I'll be dis­ terious gadgets in my TV set, you tracted by a fit of temper. It won't won't stop me digging for the work. You're doing something for truth about them. Not until you which the play is only an excuse, level with me. Do I make myself and just so long as you deny it I'll clear?" go on trying to prove it." Delgado heard him out, his "You're obstinate," Delgado seH-possession seeping back. He said. "But I know what I'm doing gave a short laugh. and you don't. I don't have to "You're very insecure, aren't wonder which of us will yield you?" he said. "You have to talk first. As you wish, then. You will loudly to reassure yourself. You certainly suffer, especially when it are afraid sc,r.1ething is going on becomes clear to your colleagues that you don't understand, and the that you are being deliberately ob­ idea scares you. So you break structive. However, I can afford things. You can't afford to run to throw you and anyone else away, but breaking things gives aside." you a sense of comforting power. He gave a sleepy smile. • And And you shift blame to me be­ you can't afford to do anything. cause you can't face your own in­ I'm your last hope, Murray. On adequacies. Though I'd have your head be it." thought they were obvious even to (to be concluded next month)

COMING NEXT MONTH

The startling conclusion of JOHN BRUNNER's new novel, THE PRODUCTIONS OF TIME; a new story of The People by ZENNA HENDERSON, TROUBLING OF THE WATER. (Watch for the September issue, on sale August 2.) "Look-in this world you don't get something for nothing!" 44 Joan Patricia Basch was born .some 35 years ago in Brooklyn, was brought up in Brazil, and now is back in Brooklyn. She writes that she "studied for the theatre, appeared in Off-Broadway productions, fragmentary film and T. V., wrote parables and drew cartoons. She soon found, however, that these outside interests conflicted with her primary aim: schizoid withdrawal." We've since received coherent communication from Miss Basch, so we trust that her goal will be put off indefinitely, and that we taill have the opportunity ta present more good stories like the one below.

MATOC

by Joan Patricia Basch

TIMES WERE NOT EASY FOB versation, and Virgilius seemed I Pieter Schnapps, who, in the fash· heaven-sent source of supply. Ac­ ion of other scholars in the six· cording to Johannes, those who teenth century, had taken the La- usually came to his inn were not tin ate name of "Virgilius." He and truly alive; they merely had in­ his fifteen year old daughter (ap- somnia. propriately called "Camilla" after Eagerly, Johannes put the trav­ the heroic maiden in Virgil's epic), eller's little donkey in his stable, were destitute. Arriving on foot at transferred the cartload of books the village of Dumpf, which con- and alchemist's retorts to the wine sisted of an inn, they were forced cellar, and set a fine roast before to accept the charity of the inn- the dusty pair. His wife, Lotte, a keeper, Johannes. great freckled, carrot-haired wom- A short, chubby man with a an, made a row. (She treated Jo­ glowing child-like. face, Johannes hannes as if he were her precocious conferred charity upon them as one child, scolding and complaining accepting favors. Virgilius had to his face, and then dotingly con­ some small fame which had at one fiding to others the inexplicable time reached the inn-keeper, who marvels of his mind and heart.) was fond of saying that he had been Upon the advent of Virgilius and educated above his station. He suf- his daughter, hungry and penni­ fered from the lack of sublime con- less, she called Johannes a fool and 'IS 46 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION a dupe, cried out that he would Necromancer in Chief, Protegee impoverish them both, threw a pan and Pet Charlatan of His Afluence at him, and flung off to their room. the Baron, has flown the coop." There, she knelt before a statuette "Incredible!" exclaimed Virgi­ of the Madonna and murmured, lius, who was well informed as to moist-eyed, that she was married the reputations of his colleagues. to a saint. "From such a fine situation for one Gazing worshipfully upon Vir­ so inept! Confidentially, he had no gilius' majestic person as that more ingenuity than the shade of bearded sage bolted his food, Jo­ Sisyphus." hannes ventured: "The Lean Years Johannes raised his plump are upon you, Meister'?" hands, fingers spread. ''\Vhen were the Fat ones?" Vir­ "Ah Meister!" he protested. "Say gilius retorted bitterly, attacking Chimaerus had no talent. Say he his refilled plate with the air of one had no learning. Say he had no making provision for winter. scruples. But do not say he had no "Meister, I have information ingenuity!" which may have a bearing upon the True enough," Virgilius . . . misfortune to which you al­ drawled. "One might even say that lude. . . . I had meant to refer he succeeded in discovering the to it casually, with no coarse hint Philosopher's Stone, since he man­ of its-ah-lucrative aspects ...." aged to transform the lead of his Privation had thinned Virgilius' brain into the gold of the Baron's patience. He snapped, "Speak out, purse. Why, in the name of unde­ manl I know you were educated served Fortune, did he leave the above your station!" Baron's service?" Johannes did not take offense. Johannes again adopted his con­ He said, "You know these are the spiratorial air. "The question is not lands of the Baron von Stellwiper '\Vhy?', but 'How?'" His eyes von Vloy von Von?" sparkled. "For two years Chimaerus "His castle does not fade into the tried to conjure up a demon, fiend, landscape." devil for the Baron to look at. The "Imposing, is it not? An aerie, Baron expects value, and prefers one might say, for an eagle like spectacle, which he can see, to yourself." Virgilius tried to ac­ speculation, which he can't grasp. knowledge the compliment while He would well nigh give his fox­ downing a mug of ale. Johannes tune·for the sight of genuine devil." planted his elbows on the table, "He has only," Virgilius said sig­ and, leaning forward, whispered nificantly, "to wait." Johannes excitedly: "Chimaerus, Court As­ scarceJy paused in his narration. trologer, Alchemist in Waiting, "A week ago, the labors of two :WATOG 47 years bore fruit. A devil actually joint lives, her father had made did appear to Chimaerus . . . and sporadic attempts to turn to ac­ it carried him off." count various remedies he had de­ Virgilius guffawed. Johannes vised for ailing live-stock. Usually smiled demurely and continued. this was only a last resort against "They were both gone so fast the starvation, but Camilla felt that Baron did not see either of them. Lotte, after all, gained little from He missed the treat." Virgilius' conversation and danger­ "However, it migbt be account­ ous experiments to compensate for ed at least a Pyrrhic Victory for the iruoads upon her larder. poor Chimaerus," Virgilius ob­ The castle, built to be threaten­ served generously. "I suppose the ing, stood upon a rocky hill. Its Baron's laboratory is well towers were wreathed with flights equipped?" of birds, like ealligraphy inked up­ "Many-tongued Rumor indi­ on the transparent gray sky. The cates it." road, winding among fir trees and "I have put much study into an stunted oaks, was quite steep, but attempt to conjure up the fiend Ma­ the thin cold air, the early morn­ tog," said Virgilius thoughtfully. ing chatter and twittering of the "He cannot withstand my spells birds, the silvery mists evaporating much longer. And now I shall in the rise of the pale sun, all .filled know what to do with him when he her with a mysterious sense of does arrive." He glanced at Cam­ anticipation and anguish. Life illa, who had fallen asleep with might be beginning, at last. her head on her arms, and rose. Camilla was a tall, slight girl The wine cellar was cavernous, with a wilderness of curly pale with an earthen floor. It boasted brown hair and enormous grey little wine, but had a stove, safely eyes, an oval face and cleft chin. apart from the barrels. The stove She seldom thought of her appear­ was lit, and two straw pallets, with ance, beyond seeing that her one blankets, were set on either side of gown,. of faded blue, was kept neat­ it. Camilla barely woke as her fa­ ly patched and clean, but on this ther half carried her down and morning she felt beautiful. It was tucked her in. Virgilius himself did like a sign of Grace. not retire until he and Johannes Wandering like a gypsy for as had put up a trestle table, upon long as she could remember, sleep­ which the alchemist's mystical ing in palaces and by the roadside, hardware was lovingly set. Camilla's religious education (the The following morning, Cam­ only kind that mattered among illa went to the castle with a basket women) was strangely neglected. over her arm. Throughout their She did not know that she was 'lo FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION many kinds of heretic, well quali­ some remedies from her. He po­ fied to be burned at the stalre, and litely questioned her, and Camilla, was on friendly, informal terms enco11raged for the first time in her with God. Camilla's mother had life to talk about herself, chattered been a lady, fastidious and no long­ breathlessly. She even divulged er young, who had loved the resi­ that the remedies were the creation dent scholar-magician and died of of Virgilius, although this was ab­ it, assisted by the inopportune ar­ solutely forbidden. Virgilius re­ rival of her daughter. Virgilius left garded these medicines as the prod­ her family's manor in haste, taking uct of his baser, peasant natUJe, the evidence with him. Sheltered and he tacitly disassociated him­ through infancy among the large self from the~r production, anti brood of an accommodating peasant even from Camilla when she sold family, Camilla was reunited with them. her father almost as soon as she As they parted, Hans doffed his could walk, and she had walked a cap. Camilla returned to the inn great deal since; barefoot and in with an empty basket and re­ wooden shoes, occasionally in stocked fancy. Her fancy had al­ pretty slippers. ways been her true reality, and In this chilly dawn with its now it was inhabited by the image mood of awakening, there came -of a person of flesh and blood, cantering up the road a man on a who had told her ·she was beautiful black horse. Coming abreast af (with his eyes as much as in words) Camilla, who flinched from the and a lady born. Around this frag­ thudding hooves, he pulled up. He ment her secret reality formed a was quite young and well dressed, pearl which enclosed her so com­ with a drooping feather in his ma­ pletely that meeting a fiend did roon cap. His olive skinned face not flurry her at all. was fine and handsome, with gen­ The fiend arrived that night. tle dark eyes and lines like commas Camilla lay on her pa11et pre­ by his mouth. He raised his eye­ tending to sleep as her father mut­ brows and smiled at Camilla, and tered, chanted, and scratched pen­ she was proud and happy because tagons on the earthen floor, among she felt beautiful that day, and it the vials and retorts whose multi­ would have been a discord if such coleured contents glowed in the a man had met a homely girl on dark and gave off phosphorescent such a morning. vapours. In their illumination, cast He greeted her with grave cour­ luridly upwards, Virgilius' craggy tesy, and when she explained her face with its fierce brows and flow­ errand, introduced himself as the ing white hair and beard, hovered Baron's steward, Hans, and bought like that of some sinister prophet. MATOG (His hair and beard had turned "Camilla, I implore you." white from shock, alchemy and "All right, Matog. Although I black magic being a metier full of shouldn't." surprises. This venerable whiteness "Promise? Sacred and Infernal?" gave the impression that he was "Promise," said Camilla, touched twice his actual age, which, in and impressed. conjunction with a fifteen-year-old The same thing happened the daughter, enhanced his reputation following night, and the night af­ for arcane knowledge.) ter that. Matog would be conjured Virgilius callected all his forces up, hide, and Virgilius would and cried: "APPEAR!" leave, discouraged. Camilla, who There was a disappointing puff had met Hans twice again on her of smoke. Virgilius looked around way to the castle and was wholly hopefully, but he did not see what absorbed in the aura of these overt· Camilla saw--an attenuated black ly inconsequential meetings, made figure decorated with small antlers Matog her first confident. She and a bushy tail, mincing on tip­ crouched close to the stove, whis· toe towards the stove. pering and enjoying his unsym· Drowsy and entranced, Camilla pathetic comments. They were ad· remained still, watching the scene dressed directly to her, and this was with detachment, from inside her a delightful novelty. pearl. The creature raised his fin. "Dear Fiend," she whispered. "'t ger to what might be his lips-his is hard for me to speak of it . . • face was concealed by a mop-like it is something . . • so • • • silly orange mane, the same fore and aft but, I thought, since you seem -when he saw he was observed. kindly disposed towards me •••" There was something endearing in "Cut the preface," Matog inter­ this unlikely complicity. rupted, "and get to the nanative." When Virgilius, discourage~ "I am in love." left the cellar for a drink and con­ "It's all your imagination,• ference with Johannes, the fiend said Matog. emerged shivering from the stove. "Oh, I know!" Camilla gasped. "I can't bear it," he said. "Why "It's just that it feels so real to me. can't they leave me in peace?" Oh.," she sighed, "it's as if I had a "I'm sorry," said Camilla. fountain in me, a fountain that "Just let me wait it out i:n tbe could cure sickness . . • if I touch stove. My name is Matog. Until something I feel as if I had healing the spell wears off." hands . . . you know? And some­ "My name is Camilla; how do thing else. I feel so alive that I you do. I can't, Matog. Papa would think that if a leaf touched me, it be so angry." would leave a bruise • . • and I 50 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTIOI' feel like a vase which is carrying been indeed "a nervous seizure." In something so precious I walk care­ any case, she had never believed fully so it doesn't spill . . . Oh that life would ever begin in ear­ Matog, if you knew what a relief it nest, that anything could really is to talk about him!" change, or even that this would be "You seem to be talking about at all desirable. She thought of yourself." many things as she walked along, "Was I? I thought I was talking until taken aback by the violent about him." beating of her heart, For a moment "\Vho is this nervous seizure?" she thought she might be ill, and "I can't come out and say, Ma­ tl1en realized that she had passed a tog. I know you don't mind. I even spot where she had stopped to talk hate it when other people mention to Hans, and that had caused the his name, although I listen hard. beating. The enchantment had dis­ Oh Matog, I feel as if I had been solved, leaving heaviness and holding my breath all my life ..." apathy in its dregs, but desire re­ The next day, Camilla heard Jo­ mained. It was no longer the ele­ hannes, in gossiping with Virgil­ ment in which she lived, but an iso­ ius, say that the Baron's steward, lated, aggravating hunger. Hans, although of humble birth, Since she no longer wove fan­ had risen to his present eminence tasies around Hans (for that through being honest, trustworthy, seemed to her to be taking a liber­ and laughing at the Baron's jokes. ty), she was able for the first time "A flatterer, then?" inquired Vir­ to consider her father and his pre­ gilius, while Camilla gazed fixedly dicament. Lotte kept threatening at her sewing. to evict her husband's pets, in spite "Oh no," said Johannes. "He of the money brought in by the really thinks they are funny. It is a . medicine . . . they could not stay quirk," he explained, "such as any at the inn forever . . . Johannes might have." He went on to say that was losing some of that adoration Hans had risen so high as to marry in which Virgilius basked and an ill-natured niece of the Baron's, throve, and Virgilius was becom­ of small dowry and less beauty, but ing desperate. How selfish she had still, a step up in the world. Cam­ been! Further, when she enterecil illa went on sewing, as her foun­ the inn she found a scene of con­ tain dried and her flesh turned to sternation. A message had come. insipid clay and a numbness filled The Baron might call that very her head. night, expecting a demonstration. Walking to the castle the next That night Camilla feigned day with a fresh supply of medi­ sleep as before, as Virgilius went cine, she told herself that it had through his usual rituals. Again, Mil.TOG 51 his eyes glassy with discourage~ at Camilla with impersonal curl· ment, Virgilius Bung up his arms osity. "Do I tempt you?" at the conclusion of the invocation Camilla searched for a tactful and cried: "APPEAR!" Again Ma~ reply. "I think you're very interest· tog materialized behind his back, ing," she said delicately. "And un~ dodged lithely as Virgilius peered usual." around, and escaped into the stove. Matog suddenly shouted, wav~ After Virgilius, in despair, tottered ing his long thin arms and stamp-­ upstairs to rejoin Johannes and ing his long prehensile feet. "I have drink ale spiked with powdered NEVER, in my wildest dreams of bats, l\Jatog emerged and prowled infamy, thought of myself as tempt· restlessly about. "How long can this ing in ANY WAY WHATS~ go on?" he demanded rhetorically. EVER! But 'Tempt me notl' they Camilla clasped her hands. screech. Obviously set on being "Please, please, Matog. Don't keep tempted in some odd way. And the me to my promise. I was sorry for self-righteousness of itl 'Begone, you but I didn't realize how much unclean Spirit, in the name of the it meant to Papa. The Baron may Heavenly Powers!' ... followed by come tonight! It changes every~ a flood of abuse in Latin, abomi­ thmg.. I" nably pronounced. 'Abominable' Matog whirled to face her, tail -that's another one. 'Abominable bristling. "It changes nothing for Fiend.' But if they cast the spell, me!" he said between what she as­ we HAVE to come! We have to sumed were his teeth. "It will be come-from home, and peace, and the same as always for me. FIRST, comfort. And we can't leave until there will be panic. Then lofty the spell wears off!" His voice rose questions Satan himself couldn't hysterically. "It's MADDENING, understand, much less answer. But I TELL YOUI" it's DONE. It's the CUSTOM. How "Just this once, Matog." do they think them up? Why?" "They can't wait," he fumed on, "Just get it over with, Matog "to get a little bit of Hell within dear." reach-they'll all but kill them­ "I know what to expect from selves to do it, evil~minded brutes these meddling pedants," he cried. -and then it's all ho"or" (he "They weave spells and concentrate spoke mincingly) "and indigna­ darkly until they've materialized tion. And exorcisms. With Bells. one of us, and then, and then ••." Tinkle~tinkle. Ugh." "What, Matog?" Camilla said eagerly, •But Pt~p~~ "Then it's: 'BEGONE, INFA~ will be glad to see you I" MOUS FIEND! TEMPT ME Matog turned on her agaJn. NOT!" l\fatog pansed and looked "He'll try to strike a bargain for his 52 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION soul, wait and see. I have done more him was very wrong. M istake"• asinine bargaiuing for the asses' ralher, because truly I didn't souls of more bearded blockheads know." -not your father~ of course, Cam­ "Know what?" illa-than any demon save Me­ "I might as well tell you who he phistopheles. And Mephistophe1es was, since of course it doesn't mat­ enjoys it. He's mainly a Human ter now. He was the Baron's stew­ concept anyway, the poseur." ard, and is honorably wedded." "Matog .••" Matog's ears twitched uneasily. "And never OD<:e was it my idea!" "Camilla," he said smwly, "I wish he bleated. "And, of course, very you hadn't told me all this. The sit­ proper they feel about cheating. uation you describe might, if you With Them, it's not how you cheat, lived at the castle, lead to serious it's who you cheat. And They talk trouble. This places me under a about Hell. Why, we frighten our Moral Obligation to get you there." imps with tales of where Ut.ey will Camilla stared at him dumb­ go if they don't behave." founded. "Papa only wants to show you to Suddenly there was an uproar: the Baron," Camilla pleaded. "You the sound of hooves, Lotte shouting only have to stand there and pose, that the inn looked like a pig-sty, for just a minute." the excited voices of Virgilius and "There would be trouble, mark Johannes as they all but tumbled my words," retorted Matog. "Only into the cellar. the other day I had an ink bottle "You must have an apparition. heaved at me by some reforming Any apparition," Johannes jab­ theologian. Just showed my face, berell. He saw Matog, and stood and ZINGO!-No Camilla, I transfixed, finger pointing, jaws don't go out of my way for that sort moving soundlessly. of thing. It just isn't good enough. "Camilla, my Robe," ordered Vir­ And Mynheer Virgi.lius has never gilius, struggling to keep his bead been aught but a trial to me." He and not noticing Matog until Cam­ sat down, his rage exhausted. "No. illa, running up with his seedy star­ I hold you to your promise. But you strewn Robe, took him by the may tell me more about your anony­ shoulders and turned him to view mous lover, if that's any consola­ her prize. "Look,. Papa!" tion." _ Matog obediently struck a pose; "Oh," said Camilla, "that doesn't very elegant, and still as a statue. count any more." Virgilius gave a great cry and Matog pricked up his ears-lit­ staggered backwards. Reaching out erally. "How sot" wildly, he seized a bronze ink-pot HHaving the feelings I did about from the trestle and hurled it. It l\iATOG 53 ricocheted off l\latog's head, dous­ shall never forget how, after three ing him in ink. days, a voice hurst simultaneously "I knew it," whispefed Matog. He from all six, beseeching the mercy began to shout. "I knew it! I KNEW of exorcism." IT!" Matog glared at him. "That was "Foul Fiend Avaunt!" cried Vir­ Asmodeus. Six at a time is cer­ gilius. "Exorciso te . . . oh mer­ tainly absurd." ciful Heaven, r,·e forgotten the There was a pounding at the words." door, voices at the top of the cellar "Papa! Don't be frightened! l\la­ stairs. Flustered, Johannes rushed tog has been here for days and days over to Matog and began Huffing and ..." up his fur. He found a comb in his "My little daughter! At the mercy enormous apron. Reaching up, of a devil from Hell!" trembling violently, he feverishly "PAPA!" Camilla moaned. applied it to Matog's mane. Matog Matog drew himself up with obligingly held still, but said cold­ dignity, blotting ink with his tail. ly, "You are gilding the lily." "You seem to be singularly ill-in­ It was Hans who descended formed," he said with icy preci­ first. He raised his eyebrows upon sion. "I am not a devil, I am a seeing Matog at his toilette, but re­ Fiend. Furthermore, I am not, as mained superbly unshaken. He you seem to fear, the Demen of smiled covertly at Camilla. She Lechery, Asmodeus. MY func­ could not meet his eyes, and her tion," he added bitterly, "seems to face felt rigid and heavy. Her be serving as target for the ink­ mouth and throat were so parched pots of high-strung metaphysi­ she could not swallow. cians." Hans announced: "The Baron Unmoved by this reproach, Vir­ von Stellwiper von Vloy von Von." gilius groaned. "In one instant I The Baron was portly and florid, knew all of pain and grief. Re­ in his sixties, with a bristling member, Johannes, last year, when blonde mustache turning gray. He six maidens in Pfaff were pos­ was sumptuously clad and carried sessed by a devil? Poor unfortunate a magnifying sJass, being extreme­ young creatures." ly short-sighted. Under the im­ "Knowing as you do," said Ma­ pression that the kneeling Johan­ tog cuttingly, "the intensity of nes was a child, he patted him on concentration required to call up a the head and gave him a sweet. He devil, I marvel at your saying, gave Camilla a sweet. He investi­ 'Poor young creatures.' Poor As­ gated Virgilius' beard through his modeus." glass, and, satisfied by this identi­ Johannes exdaimed, "No no. I fication, greeted him. "As you have 54 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION doubtless surmised," he said, at the tog, in a comet of sulphurous conclusion of formalities, "I have smoke. Hans followed. There was come to consider you as successor a clap of thunder. to poor Chimaerus. (I had Paracel­ "I hope the Baron is pleased," sus in mind, but no matter.) Johannes said doubtfully. There Doubtless you have heard of the seemed little else to say. end of poor Chimaerus?" Virgilius "Pray God you are right, Johan­ opened his mouth, but the Baron nes," muttered Virgilius. "The old continued. "I was approaching his fellow is quick on his feet, what? I quarters one fateful day, when I hope he hasn't joined Cbimaerus." heard his triumphant shout of That be had not, was thanks 'EUREKA!' Then there was an in­ only to the spell's wearing off. Ma­ dignant cry,J a shriek, and, just as I tog vanished in a clap of thunder, entered, a red flash up the chim­ after chasing the Baron around the ney. I thought at once of you, good inn, playing cat and mouse with Virgilius. Poor Chimaerus lacked him. The Baron rushed into the a certain je ne sais quoi . . ." kitchen and Lotte slammed the While talking, the Baron had massive door behind him, shutting wandered over to Matog. "And this out a nice fireworks display but not is. . . r" Then suspicion dawned. the smell of sulphur. The Baron Matog wearily held his pose again stumbled to the head of the cellar while the Baron, aghast, went over stairs, just as Johannes was saying, him with his magnifying glass. "After the Baron waited so long, When he realized who, or what, it just to see a devil would not have was, he tottered backwards with a been enough. This was better." blood-curdling scream. "SPAWN OF HELL I" shouted He flailed his arms. the Baron down the stairs. "AS­ He crashed through the glass SASSINS! I banish you. You and and crystal of Virgilius' equip­ your ill-starred little ones." He ment. caught sight of Johannes, who was He howled, "POWERS OF standing now. "That one has DARKNESS BEGONE." grown," he said, mystified. His He panted, "Exocciso te, spiritus voice again rose to a bellow. "Be­ imundus, Spiritus malefico . . ." gone from this vilJage ere the sun "No," said Matog with decision. sets again, and never return to 'This is too much. The irony of it." spread the contagion of supersti­ He sprang, giving off blue sparks, tion among the lower orders." He and missed. He gnashed unsuspect­ mopped his brow. "If I had not led ed fangs. The Baron's agility was a blameless life . . . but it is not phenomenal. He was out of the to be thought of." Hans gently took cellar in a trice, and so was Ma- his arm and led him away. He and MATOG 55 Lotte persuaded the Baron to rest "And, while the Baron has re­ upstairs before attempting the ride nounced all that smacks of the back to the castle. Lotte exercised Black Arts, he would still solicit her seldom used but very consider­ your services • • •• able gifts of pleasing, and plyed .. Hal" said Johannes proudly. him with strong ale and savoury •. • • as a veterinarian." meat. •camilla!" Virgilius roared. ..1 Unaware of the pacific scene TRUSTED YOU!" above their heads, the trio in the "I reported to the Baron,• Hans cellar contemplated the enormity went on calmly, "upon your mi­ of their misfortune. Only Camilla, raculous remedy which checked an huddled by herself near the stove, epidemic of hog cholera." could find consolation in knowing Virgilius declaimed: "'Days of it to be all for the best. affiiction have taken hold upon "Banishment!" mourned Johan­ me! They chase mine honor as the nes. "And you tried so hard." wind .. ." "We've nought before us but Hans went on imperturbably. starvation or charity," said Vir­ "'You would, of course, reside in the gilius. "To be sure, that is all we castle-in the same tower as the had before, but I had hoped. • laboratory. The Baron has sworn a "Ah Mynheer!" cried Johannes, solemn vow to never approach that with passion. "It is enough just to tower again, but doubtless you can know Hope for a sweet instant, find it in yourself to be reconciled without holding her to account to that. The living quarters are like a creditor." quite luxurious, and you will of Virgilius did not heed him. course dine with the Baron, and be "Each day," he said, "is a Philoso­ shown all due honor. He has great pher's Stone in reverse, changing, reverence for learning and for the hour by hour, all our gold to lead." arts of healing, especially when They wept together. Hans re­ applied to animals. They were his turned. chief interest in life before the ad­ "Revered Sir," he said breath­ vent -of the ill-fated Chimaerus. lessly, "I took the liberty of return­ Here is gold in advance." He de­ ing while the Baron rests, since I parted in a co11fused exchange of have news which may relieve your compliments. mind. I argued your cause to the "Master Virgilius," pleaded Jo­ Baron while he sampled a most ex­ hannes, with tears in his eyes. cellent roast. He withdraws the • Are you not happy?" sentence of banishment." "' have fled this an my life, "God be praised!" cried Johan­ Johannes. Yet this ignoble destiny nes. lay in wait for me even while I dis- 56 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION tilled the learning of the stars." Virgilius instantly responded. His Johannes straightened up. His face lit up, his shoulders straight­ eyes were shining now. "But I, ened. "Certes," said Virgilius. "It Meister," he said, ."will go to my is a great trust. Pray for me, Jo­ grave rejoicing that I knew one hannes, that I may not grow vain­ like unto the blessed St. Francis­ glorious." one who distilled the learning of As they climbed from the;cellar, the stars, to heal the suffering · Camilla curled up on her pallet, beast; the wisest and humblest of feeling tired and strange to herself. philosophers, gentle Virgilius." Something was going to Happen. - Johannes knew his friend well. Tomorrow, life would begin.

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ALMOST FIFTEEN YEARS AGO, IN tury, is a peculiar process which a critical essay on science fiction1 can quite aocurately be called the as yet unsurpassed for acute analy­ intellectual renunciation of 'the sis or predictive accuracy, Regi­ intellect.' Actually, this rebelLion nald Bretnor amused some read­ against 'reason' is a revolt against ers, antagonized others, and drew the scientific method, reason's cold vigorous agreement from a few, instrument in the old scheme of when he said of s-f: things. It is a revolt prompted by It is not a genre. Its scope is the failure to understand, and by universal. It holds the promise of a fear of the un-understandable. an entire new literature. It has varied in degree; it has been He based his statement on a more or less conscious, more or careful survey of contemporary less deliberate. It has included writing and thinking, in and out such seemingly diverse phenom­ of the science fiction field. I can .ena as the complete Dadaist de­ not take the space here to review Hial, the Existentialist dramatiza­ Bretnor's article in full; I com­ tion of fashionable despair, and a mend it heartily to anyone who highly verbalized insistence on re­ can find a copy. But I want to strictive neo-Aristotelian frames quote two passages here in preface of literary reference which them­ to a discussion of two new books selves are a retreat from the Aris­ which stand, I believe, at the totelian bal«nce of the Renais­ opening gate to that 'new litera­ sance. The trend, in our most ture': 'serious' fiction, has been increas­ In writing, as in the other arts, ingly toward a focus of all em­ there have been a number of re­ phasis on 'the emotions,' on 'feel­ sponses to the problem posed by ing' rather than on 'thought' -as the new complexity of knowledge though the two were mutually an­ and the breakdown of the older tagonistic and mutually exclusive. synthesis. Characteristic of almost And later: all of these, especially in this cen- To science fiction, man is the

'"The Future of Science Fiction," by Reginald Bretnor, in HODEBN ICIENCE FICTION, ed. Bretnor, Coward McCann, 1953. 57 58 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION proper study of the writer-man, in the sciences, and in our whole and everything man does and culture, the conflict between re­ thinks and dreams, and el'erything sponse- to the new challenge and man builds, and everything of reaction away from it, is still rag­ which he may become aware-his ing, and within the growing ranks theories and his things, his quest of those who have begun to accept into the universe, his search into the new concepts there is further himself, his music and his mathe­ inevitable experimental dissen­ matics and his machine. All these sion. have human value and validity, far But, dimly, not ·yet the actual they are of man. shapes, but the foreshadows of Bretnor spoke of science fiction emergent forms are beginning to as "integrative . . . not self-re­ make themselves felt. In litera­ strictive . . . not a literature of ture, at· least English-language false dichotomies, conventional­ literature, the reactive forces have ized . . ." In this, as in much of been vigorous and effective, but in what he had to say about the spe­ the last decade or two, even the cialty field per se, he was writing literary Establishment has loos­ more of what science fiction ened its grim clutch on dying should and could be than what it 'realism' -while within the en­ ordinarily is. As it turned out, his clave of American science fiction, predictions concerning the move where the first efforts had been towards s-f by 'mainstream' writ­ made, a backwater reactive swirl ers and publishers, and by the seemed for a while to be burying .reading public in general, were all that was original or truly spec­ startlingly accurate, and much ulative in a flood of polished more so, it has seemed, than his mediocrity and formularized pa­ expectations for what would hap­ perback pap. pen in the field itself.Buttheprem­ This is still largely the case; ises underlying his araument were most of even the best writers in more significant than any of his the field do no more in the way of conclusions, and they concerned idea-originating than filling in in­ the moving spirit of our age, from tricate detail on their 'new maps'. which all expression in art and The literary explorers here are literature must eventually flow: the mostly 'fringe people': writers who revolution in scientific thought neither identify themselves with which has replaced mechanics s-f, nor align themselves against it, with dynamics, classification with but make use of its unique prop­ integration, certainly with relativ­ erties when and as needed. For ity, dualism with monism, facts various reasons, the situation in with probabilities. In the arts, as England is different: the 'realism' BOOKS ;9 reaction was never as strong; ma­ which Aldiss and, more often, jor writers and thinkers there be­ Leiber, have brought back magical gan making use of s-f techniques reports; where McKenna had only in the thirties, instead of the fifties; begun exploring when he died; the specialty field grew up in the where, perhaps, Zelazny, Disch, shadow, if not the smile, of lit­ Lafferty, and a growing school of erary respectability. young British writers (with per­ Whether such background dis­ haps Langdon Jones and George tinctions provided a more favora­ Collyn at the fore), may find their ble atmosphere for the develop­ way. ment of a writer like J. G. Ballard, (My apologies for any notable or whether Ballard himself was a omissions; I did not set out to com­ prime factor in keeping the Brit­ pose an honor roll, but to describe ish field from following the lead a rough circle.) (or tail) of the regressive move­ ment in the previously-dominant A year ago in this space, re­ American magazines, is not even a viewing THE DROWNED WORLD matter of importance. What does (July, 1965) I said I thought matter is that at least one fully Ballard "well on his way toward qualified writer has now devel­ becoming the first truly conscious oped to occupy the position for and controlled literary artist s-f has whose description we have as yet produced." It is time now to dis­ no adequate critical language­ pense 'Yith cautious qualifiers. a literary outpost ~ather closer to With the publication of THE the lonely prominences of the CRYSTAL WORLD2 and THE IM· Argentinian, Borges, the Parisian, POSSIBLE MAN3 (his fourth novel Jarry, the Swede, Martinson, than and seventh short story collection to his closest English-language -five. in this country), Ballard neighbors (Kurt Vonnegut, Wil­ climaxes his first decade as a writ­ liam Burroughs, Cordwainer er-and, in another sense, the Smith, Joseph Heller, David first phase of his career-at a point Bunch, Anthony Burgess, are where the criteria of genre criti­ among them); somewhere in the cism are totally inadequate to direction that Kuttner and Moore judge his work; and whiJe most of were perhaps the first to point to what he has done in the last two from inside science fiction; the years comes off satisfactorily (and gro•~nd Sturgeon and Miller ap­ occasionally brilliantly) under proached and abandoned; from examination by the established

"THE CB'YSTAL WORLD, J. G. Ballardi. Farrar, Straus 8c Giroux, 1966; 210 pp; $4.50. 3THE IMPossmLE MAN, J. G. Ballara; Berkley #F1204, 1966; nine stories, 160 pp.; 50¢. 60 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION rules of 'serious' literary criticism, deed-among other things-a those rules are themselves far short novel, and a good one; and in the of satisfactory for examination of cles.ing thought, which would most of his work. In the phase he have related more to another com­ now seems to be entering (to ment in the same review: "It is which "Terminal Beach" was a becoming almost impossible to re­ preliminary-as, five years earlier, view a new book of Ballard's all was the far less complete "Voices by itself. The author is building of Time"), either set of standards from book to book, and from story will be about as useful as one axis to story, in such a way that al­ on a sheet of linear graph paper though each unit is meaningful for charting the course of a rocket: on its own terms, it assumes full by using both axes, we can deter­ dimensions only in the context of mine two dimensions of the trajec­ the whole body of work." This is tory; without some fairly sophisti­ true to varying degrees for all but cated mathematics (the as-yet un­ a double handful of the short formulated critical vocabulary) stories-ami a first novel (THE we have no way of indicating the WIND FROM NOWHERE, F&SF third dimension. "Books", July, 1965) which one assumes to have been Ballard's only In a brief discussion of THE major experiment with "writing DROUGHT here (Jan., 1966 ), I for the market." In general, it is said it was "a more easily readable the richest and most rewarding book than THE DROWNED WORLD, stories that gain most from associ­ and almost certainly a better ative reading-and this applies novel. Whether it is a better book above all to the curious thematic­ -because Ballard does not really trilogy of (for want of a better write novels anyhow-will take word) novels, in which THB time to determine; the signifi­ CRYSTAL WORLD serves as bridge cance seems to keep seeping up to and climax to THE DROWNED the surface of the mind for a long WORLD and THE DROUGHT. (And time after the book is closed." I by the way, for what it's worth, started to write the same opening my feeling six montlts later-with comments, almost word for word, only minor seepage still going on in regard to THE CRYSTAL WORLD, -is that DROUGHT was indeed until memory nagged, and I the "better book." checked the earlier review. The cw is emphatically the best only differences would have been novel of the three, not only be­ in the omission of the parentheti­ cause of an observable increment cal phrase, disqualified by the in both craftsmanship and matur­ publication of cw, which is in- ity, but because of its particular BOOKS 61 function in the trio. Where literature. As a speculative work­ DROWNED WORLD examined time~ and it is that-only the most su~ past in terms of psychophysical perficial part of its content is self~ and geophysical evolution-a re~ contained; the larger, and deeper, turn to the womb-of-the-world­ statements are to be found only in and DROUGHT explored the dry~ the dynamics of its relationships ing-up of life in time-future from with the other two books-and to the platform of the culture-com~ lesser degrees, with some of the plex of man's accomplishments till short stories. now, cw presents us with a (liter~ ally, physically) crystallized pat~ The closely timed publication tern of time-now-the frozen of THE IMPOSSIBLE MAN, COn­ present, infinite moment, immor~ taining as it does a near~com­ tality in the instant of I am. In plete sampling of the spectrum of the fiJ:St book, archetypal figures Ballard's work of the last four or were moved by powerful blind five years, serves as a tidy compl~ biopsychic forces to fulfill-or r~ ment to the new novel. It seems enact-their mythic roles; in the unlikely that this was purposeful second, elaborately evolved and on the part of the publishers, since multi~faceted allegorical personae the book is obviously a cleaning-up picked their way through an el~ collection (leaving only two of gant/decadent choreography of the first-decade stories not yet in desuetude and devolution on a dy­ book form: "The Singing Statues," ing earth; the third book is actively which will be in a forthcoming inhabited by individuals en~ Doubleday collection, and a frag­ tirely alive and aware in the only_ ment, really, called "Prisoner of moment of reality we know at all the Coral Deep.. ), but it was most -the eternally passing present we fortuitously done for my purposes call now, where the focus in space here, and I recommend reading expands as time narrows down, and them together-if of course ·you action shots of lif~in~process are know where to ~nd Berkley books. not only possible, but inevitable. (In view of some of my recent re~ The twentieth-century novel is marks about Berkley, I should primarily concerned with the in~ mention here that I did receive a terplay of immediacies and inti~ review copy in advance of publi~ macies in interpersonal relation­ cation-and then of course I ships; in these terms, cw is a brU­ waited to discuss it in connection liant success compared to its com~ with the novel ...) panion pieces-and a respect­ The collection includes nine able accomplishment relative to stories, three of them new, and the general body of contemporary only three previously published in 62 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION this country. Between them, they It is no happenstance that the cover almost all of Ballard's stylis­ least 'related' story is not only the tic range, from the literary-con­ best piece of proper fiction in the ventional "Drowned Giant" up to, book, but probably (technically but not including, the earlier and artistically) Ballard's best short examples ("Terminal Beach," story to date. "The Drowned "Voices of Time," etc.) of the Giant" is almost a model of the experimental forms of his newest contemporary-conventional con­ work; and provide a remarkably in­ cept of short fiction. Indeed, then~ clusive set of views of the vivid/ is a quaint academic-literary haunting, grotesque/stark, fear­ rhythm to the prose, and a formal­ some/beautiful prospects and ity in the narration (neither one, images of Ballard's unique and oddly enough, unusual for Bal­ persuasive inner landscape. Here lard) quite suffiCient to eliminate are the sand beach and desert, the that "contemporary," if it were not waiting ocean, patient river basin, for the effective use of superim­ echoing wind-carved rock ·gal­ posed mythical and naturalistic leries, dark grottoes and sunlit gar­ symbology ("Modern" since Kafka dens; the crumbling mansions and and the Melville renascence) and, abandoned hotels, streaming high­ more importantly, the altogether speed highways and jostling mid-century cultural mold of the crowd bodies; the stalled ship­ community in which the drowned turned-dwelling, the sand-drifted giant is cast up. ruins. Of the most familiar sights, The story has already been se­ only the biological laboratory, and lected for two major anthologies; the billboards and white masonry I expect it will make itself at home block buildings are missing, but in a good many more, not limited there is a hospital, and giant can­ to s-f. In fact, I confess myself be­ vas screens stand in for the geome­ wildered at its selection by the tries of blocks and boards. Here members of the SFWA for the too are the hypnotic, brilliant in­ first Nebula Awards collection, sects, soundless snakes, and fright­ supposedly limited to 'science fic­ ening birds; the prismatic brights tion'. It is a remarkably good story: and darks, the inversions of light superior symbolic-but not specu­ and time and mortality. Every lative-fiction, and neither by the major theme of that first decade literary snob's nor the sci-fi fan's is somewhere here, emerging as definition, conceivably 'science topic in one story, deep underlay fiction'. in another; almost all of them in­ "Giant" is significant within the terwoven with symbols, ideas, im­ context of Ballard's work prima­ ages relating to the three novels. rily as an index of his literary de- BOOKS 63 velopment. Almost as though he most single-handed work of the were testing himself from time to Professional who is one of the es­ time, a small but consistent part sential personalities of the com­ of Ballard's output has fallen plete writer. It is the Prophet into a special group of what can whose vision informs the work, only be regarded as exercises in the Poet who conveys the vision; formal fiction .. Usually on tradi­ .the Professional (if he is strong tional 'gothic science fiction' 'enough) maintains a balance be­ themes (appropriately updated in tween them, and (if he is even rationale, costume, fittings, set­ stronger) learns eaough from both tina. and dialogue). most of them of them so that he is increasingly c6ntain rather more scientific/tech­ able, on occasion, to function nological furnit}Jl'e than "Giant"; without their active participation. some of them completely satisfy (When he starts feeling too strong, the specific demands of 'solid sci­ he sometimes decides to do with­ ence fiction'; but where the specu­ out the others altogether-but that lative element remains, it is care­ lecture is for other authors, not fully limited: the themes are either Ballard.) small chunks broken off the main "Pa&sage" and "Giant" are the body, or-as with "Giant"-com­ only stories in the book that are pletely separate one-time ideas. less than uniquely and specifically Th£re have been perhaps ten (the composite) Ballard. On the such stories in the ten years (and opposite end of the spectrum are that .first, learning, novel). The "The Gioconda of the Twilight other one in the current collection Noon" ( 1964) and "The Impossi­ is "Rites of Paisage", and a com­ ble Man" (new in this book), both parison of the two gives a clear containing some of the most pow­ picture of the gain in craftsman­ erful symbolic punches Ballard ship and control during the four­ ever pulled: or perhaps 'pulled' is or-five year interval between them. the wrong word. The title story is In the meatier stories, where other sharply thought-provoking, and kinds of impact are involved, this "Gioconda" -almost a straight in­ kind of progress is far less con­ terior-fantasy 'psychological story' sistent. -is powerful, ugly, fragmentary, It is quite reasonable to assume and unforgettable. But both are ex­ that the surface of the prose was treme instances of the 'incom­ best tended in these more formal plete' story-perhaps 'unbalanced' stories simply because they are is most accurate, in terms of my closer to the surface-intellec­ Poet-and-Prophet analogy-and in tualizations of concepts, rather both cases, I believe, for the same than dimensional images, the al- reason : these stories belong the- 64 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION matically to the 'second phase,' or analysis of the parts; with the which Ballard is only now begin­ opposites to be found in apparent ning to be able tG cast into appro­ equalities, and the identities to be priate forms. (There is a string of derived from contrasts. The most these irritating, fascinating, al­ recent stories are reaching toward most and a-bit-too-much stories, a slightly different area of explo~~a­ going back at least six years to . tion and experimentation, but the "Manhole 69" and "The Waiting main focus of the first ten-year Grounds." The&e, more than any phase was on Time-most speci­ others, enrich each other, and gain fically, man's orientation in the both abstract meaning and human universal flow of event, the place impact from relation to each other, of the hour, or flower, or single and to the main body of work.) human consciousness, in the birth-to-death movement of cos­ Because he has borrowed so mos, planet, species, culture. much from the surrealists, and "The Reptile Enclosure" works for direct conveyance of con­ (1963 ), "The Delta at Sunset" cepts (however abstruse) through ( 1964 ), and "Storm-bird, Storm­ imagery, sensory clues, symbology, dreamer" and "The Day of For­ and associative language and struc­ ever" (both new here) are all di­ ture, rather than overtly verbalized rectly in this central flow, each intellectualizations, it is easy to closely related in theme, struc­ think of Ballard as the uncon­ ture, imagery or style to one or scious purveyor of potent magic­ more of the three novels. "Storm­ in-fantasy. To some small extent, bird" actuallv takes some of the this is probably true, in the side­ same characters and one setting stream of 'pre-writings' represent­ from THE DROUGHT, engaging ed most powerfully here by "Gio­ them in an entirely different sym­ conda." But for the most part, he bolic expression of the same com­ is an intensely conscious and pur­ pression of future-time: poseful speculative writer, and the At dawn the bodies of the great modes he elects to use are those birds shone in the damp light of best suited to his vital interest in the marsh, their grey plumage the philosophic basis of the con­ hanging in the still water lilu temporary revolutions in both sci­ fallen clouds. Each morning when entific thinking and artistic ex­ Crispin went out on to the deck of pression. He is concerned with re­ the picket ship he would see thtJ lationships, rather than isolated birds lying in the creeks and wa­ definitions; with the synthesis of terways where they had died two varieties of acquired knowledge, months earlier, their wounds rather than the further dissection cleansed naw by the slow current, BOOKS 65 and he would watch the white­ something clearly the same proves haired woman who livea in the different after all; but sometime empty house below the cliff walk­ before you have finished, the new ing by the river. Along the nRrrO'W and old have vibrated into place beiiCh the huge birtls, larger than together, leaving a slight double­ condors, lay at her feet. As Crispin vision blur whose net effect is gazed at her from the bridge of the somehow to intensify credibility picket ship she moved among them, far beyond the limits of sharp clar­ now and then stooping to pluck ity of visualization; and you will a feather from the outstretched approach the final impossible con­ wings. At the end of her walk, frontation with almost unbearable when she returned across the damp awareness of the. loving urgency meadow to the empty house, her of loneliness in guilt on one side, arms would be loaded with im­ and the unmoving. ineradicable mense white plumes. hope of the hopelessly victimized, The same boat, the same river, across the river. The effect is pure­ the same woman with even the ly explosive. same name, Catherine York­ "Enclosure" and "Delta" are less though Quilter of the book becomes dosely aligned to any one of the Quimby here, and Crispin is not at novels, though both are closer to all Dr. Ransom. Feathers for sand the regressive DROWNED WORLD drifts, and a chain-reaction of than the DROUGHT end-game. I hormone-forced crops and giant would venture a guess that "En­ birds instead of a molecular chain closure" was written a good bit sealing off the seas-how many eaJ;lier than its 1963 publication ways to tell evolutionary time? (as "The Sherrington Theory") in But it is a different world, and Amazing: the idea so dominates suddenly, it is not after all the the treatment that it seems much same woman who bears the same more like one of the 'unbalanced' name and appearance. first approaches than something If you have not read THE written after the return-to-the-sea DROUGHT, I imagine you will find of DROWNED WORLD. As for "Storm-bird" exotic, exciting, pro­ "Delta" -I have read this story at vocative, chilling, and memorable. least half a dozen times since I If you have read THE DROUGHT, first saw it in the British TERMI· you may well feel as I did, nagging­ NAL BEACH collection last fall, ly irritated at first, partly with and I still do not know what it Is, what seems sheer author's laziness, in a story that seems unextraordi­ partly at the off-center, out-of­ nary between readings, that moves focus feeling each time something me as strongly each time. different turns out the same, or "Day of Forever" appears to be a FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION variant handling of the basic con­ controlled, possession of that ini­ cepts of CRYSTAL WORLD, some­ tial power, it often turns out on what after the manner of "Storm­ later analysis that the early reputa­ bird" and DROUGHT, but except for tion-maker had somewhere in il some vivid scene setting and evoca­ the seeds of every mode, thought, tive premise-stating (At Colum­ construct, in the author's later bine Sept Heures .it was always work. The phenomenon is, for dush. . . . the time whose hands some reason, unusually apparent were almost frozen on the dozen in science fiction. clocks . . . The dead clocks that Ballard has come a long way in stared down from the municipal ten years. He has already regained towers and deserted tawns were and passed by his first burst of the unique flora of the desert, the power. His very latest stories even unused keys that n'ould tum the show indications of style, and per­ way into his dreams ...) it haps content as well, that were not seemed to me that all the author germinating ten years ago. But in had to say had already been stated all the work of that first ten years, more strongly, and more subtly, in I do not think one can find any­ the novel, or for that matter in the thing that did not first see the earlier novelette, "The Illuminat­ light of print in Vermilion Sands. ed !\Ian" (F&SF, Jan., 1964) that It was inevitable, I suppose, was actually the first version of that if other authors write one such cw. story, Ballard would write five; In many ways, the story that has but he was traditional enough at most to offer toward an enhance­ least so that his first published ment of the values of the novel is story was one of the five: "Prima the much earlier "Screen Game"; Belladonna" (which I am happy but it would not matter which to say introduced Ballard to novel I was talking about, because American readers, in my Second this is a Vermilion Sands story. Annual SF) began: Nothing I have said about the I first met Jane Ciracylides dur­ development of Ballard's work ap­ ing the Recess, that world slump plies here. of boredom, lethargy and high It is not uncommon for a young summer which carr.ied us all so writer, in his first or near-first blissfully through ten imforgetta­ work, to produce one piece far be­ ble years ... yond his actual capacity, not to be In the first page, the Vermilion equalled or surpassed until years Sands atmosphere is indelibly es­ and volumes have gone by. And if tablished. The narrator owns a he has the patience and persist­ "music shop" just off Beach Drive. en2e to work back to a conscious, He is sitting on the balcony of his BOOKS 67 apartment, upstairs from the shop, stract sculptures stood by the road­ with two friends, an architect and side. Once these were sonic, re­ a ceramicist, . . . yarning and sponding to the slipstream of a playing i-Go, a sort of decellerated passing car with a series of warn­ chess which was popular then .•• ing vibrators, but nmv the Lincoln I usually put a couple of hours passed them unrecognized. in at the shop each morning, get­ • . . the tires cut softly through ting off the orders and turning the cerise sand, and soon we were the beer. overrunning what appeared to be One particularly hot lazy day the edge of an immense chess­ I'd just finished wrapping up a board of black and white marble delicate soprano mimosa wanted squares . . . the huge wreck of by the Hamburg Orator.io Society Lagoon West passed us slmvly on ll'lzen Harry 11honed down from our left. Its terraces and balconies tlzc balcony. were deserted, and the once mar­ "Parker's Chloro-Flora?" • • • ble-white surface was streaked and As for Jane: The gossips at Ver­ lifeless. Staircases e.nded abruptly milion Sands soon decided there in midflight, and the floors hung was a good deal of mutant in her, like sagging marquees . ... because she had a rich patina­ Ballard once described Ver­ golden skin and wh'at looked like milion Sands as an "exotic suburb" insects for eyes. . . . of his mind; if so, he is an exotic If you do not already know the suburbanite (which is not far story, it is in Berkley's 1962 col­ from the truth either), because lection, BILLENIUM, and will be here above all is where we find the reprinted next year in Doubleday's merging-place of all the extremes Vermilion Sands collection. and opposites in the sand-sea, light­ Meantime, we have "Screen dark, freezing-burning alternatives Game", and Emerelda, whose in­ of Ballard's 'inner landscape'. In sects were real, and jewelled, at Vermilion Sands, the weather is al­ Lagoon West, tvhere the highway ways brilliant oi: storm-wracked, or forks to Red Beach and Vermilion both at once, but never mild, and Sands . . . Only a year earlier all vistas are surrealist composi· this had been a well-kept private tions. In "Screen Game" in par· road, but the ornamental gateway ticular-besides Emerelda, the lay collapsed to one side, and the woman-on-the-balcony, the sen­ guardhouse was a nesting place for sual-untouchable, ice-sheathed sex­ scorpions and sand rays. symbol of DROWNED WORLD­ • . • we followed the road as the shifting screens and painted it wound like a petrified snake flats deceive the eye (and "I") in above the reefs. . . A few ab- preparation for the flat-walled 68 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION bunker-maze in "Terminal Beach"; jeweled crocodiles glittered like the double-level allegorical-char­ heraldic salamanders on the banks acter construction of THE of the crystalline river. By night DROUGHT starts here with Charles the illuminated man raced among Van Stratten's reasons for financ­ the trees, his arms like golden ing the avant garde film, Aphro­ cartwheels, his head like a spec­ dite '70; and insects head-set with tral crown . • • rubies and emeralds presage the • • • As he paused by the boat, trees and birds and fabulous croco­ feeling the crystals along its sides, diles of the THE CRYSTAL WORLD, a huge four-legged creature ·half­ embedded in the surface lurched It would seem time, and past forwards through the crust .•• time, to say something about cw Its jaws mouthed the air silently as itself. I have done nothing else, it struggled on its hooked legs, un­ really. Its significance as a specu­ able to clamber more than a feru lative work-or as science fiction, inches from the hollow trough in if you prefer, because both in the its own outline now filling with a basic Bretnoiian sense, and in the thin trickle of water. Invested by casual meaning of the tenu, it is the glitterJng light that poured that-is to be found essentially from its body, the crocodile re­ in its position in relation to the sembled a fabulous armorial beast. other work I have discussed. Its Its blind eyes had been trans­ peculiar enchantment can no more formed into immense crystalline survive discussion and dissection rubies. It lunged toward him than can any magic. I have again, and Dr. Sanders kicked its marked endless passages in the snout, scattering the wet jewels book for quoting-but it seemed that choked its mouth . •• more important to use the space in As for the usual reviewers' other ways. Many of you will al­ things to say, I could tell you that ready have read "The Iliuminated this is a book about the transfor­ Man", in which the novel itself mation of time and light into mat­ was almost entirely undeveloped, ter, or about the psychophysiologi­ but the images, the settings and cal implications of leprosy (Dr. symbols, the taste and texture Sanders, the protagonist, is a doc­ were already close to complete. tor attached to a leprosarium) or Two brief bits, then-the one the discuss the sharp divisions into author himself chose to preface the black-and-white, dark-and-bright, book with, and one on that crazy that run through the book. I could crocodile: tell you about Dr. Sanders' rela­ By day fantastic birds flew tions with the two women (dark through the petrified forest, and and bright), or talk about the con- BOOKS 69 flict between the desire for immor­ reading any of the rest, read THE tality and the drive to self-immo­ CRYSTAL WORLD anyhow. If you lation. But to expand on these is have liked Ballard before, this will not only unnecessary, it is de­ delight you; if you have not, it structive. Ballard's particular ar­ will probably surprise you. tistry is his ability to present com­ -JuDITH MERRIL posites, to work with harmonics. Rephrasing his statements, recast­ The earlier Berkley short story col­ ing his images, isolating individual lections, all I believe still available notes, can do nothing but reduce from the publishers at 50¢ each, are THE VOICES OF TIME (1962), their effectiveness. BILLENIUM ( 1962), PASSPORT I could make critical noises, ad­ TO ETERNITY (1963 ), TERMINAL miring his phrase, "the dark side BEACH ( 1964 ). The British hard­ of the sun," deploring his reliance cover collection also titled TERMI­ on certain descriptives (most not­ NAL BEACH. only slightly overlaps ably, "like a Faberge gem"), or dis­ the Berkley book, and is an unusu­ cuss his relationship to Haw­ ally good selection (Gollancz, 1964, thorne, for instance, or his debt 18 shillings). THE DROWNED WORLD to the Surrealists. But these are has been published here by Berkley trivia-the sort of thing scholars at 50¢, and by Doubleday in a com­ bined volume with THE WIND FROM may find it worth saying in twenty NOWHERE ( 1965, $4.50). THE years, if Ballard goes ahead as he DROUGHT can be had from Jonathan now seems to be going. I have al­ Cape, London ( 21 shillings, 19 6 5), ready said everything important or in a slightly different version, as except this: THE BURNING WORLD, from Berkley If you don't want to bother (1964, 50¢).

REPRINTS

THE MIGHTIEST MACHINE, John W. Campbell; Ace F-364, 1966; 220 pp.; 40¢. (copyright 1947; no publisher given). Novel.

THE KING IN YELLOW, Robert W. Chambers; Ace 1\1-132, 1966; 253 pp.; 45¢. (copyright 1895; no publisher given). Novel.

THE LAND OF TERROR, Kenneth Robeson; Bantam E3042, 1966; 155 pp.; 45¢. (copyright 1933, Street & Smith). Novel.

INDEX

AN INDEX TO THE BRITISH EDITIONS OF THE MAGAZINE OF FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION, compiled and published by A. J. L. Durie; $1.00 or 6/­ from: K. F. Slater Esq., 75 Norfolk St., Wisbech, Cambs., England. Index through June 1964, with a cross reference to the American edition. Mose Mallette tells us that he's 26, married, livu in Atlanta, at­ tended M. I. T., U. of Chattanooga, Georgia State College, and then brings us up short with a real eye-opener of an odd fob: "fallout shelter analyst for Civil Defense." He calls this stOTfJ_ "'Galactic' humor because, whether limited to our galaxy or not, the action is always galloping through a stretch of space vaster than the solar system, and the unexpected bursts in through four or more dimensions." A good description and a good story. If this dizzying view of the universe(s) upsets you, please turn to Dr. Asimov's column for a more rational discussion of cosmogony. We call that 'editorial balance.'

THE SEVEN WONDEBS OF THE IJNIVEBSE

by Mose Mallette

EARLY IN THE CENTURIES OF after this, the great cruiser, En­ Inanity, Professor D. K. G. Plock­ tropy At Last, using the newly ett announced, on the basis of his perfected Cherry-Pit Drive• to study of sacred chickens, in which push back the frontiers of explored he had deep knowledge, that the space, smashed bow foremost into radius of the universe was 50 bil­ what appeared to be a brick wall, lion light-years. Newspapermen of considerable extent, about 50 then had to spend thousands of billion light-years from the Cen­ words explaining that Dr. Plockett tral Suns. Masons, rushed to the did not mean that a brick wall disaster scene, shook their heads stopped you after traveling 50 bil­ sadly at the wall's obviously bad lion light-years, but merely that construction. Dr. Plockett retired the curvature of space could be into the Sacred Henhouse and re­ represented by that figure. Shortly fused to comment. Curiosity-seek- • Trans. note. This depends on viewing the universe as an infinite pit sur­ rounded by a finite cherry. 70 THE SEVEN WONDERS OF THE UNIVERSE i1 ers placed their ears against the of Brooklyn, the Whorehouse of wall's numerous cracks and claimed Alexandria, the Mausoleum of the to hear sounds of a large party in Empire State Building, and others progress on the other side. It was yet more obscure. In the beginning plain that our ideas about the some bad choices were made-the "universe" were going to have to be Thing That Grows never should revised. Cosmography got organ­ have been exhibited, and hurt bus­ ized again after regular communi­ iness a lot until messages stopped cation with the other universes coming from that galaxy. And the was established, which followed Cosmic Drain and the Clusters of quickly on the exchange, through Madness both set off an unex­ one of the larger cracks, of a dry pected amount of panic. But final­ martini for the delightful beverage ly, after years of alternation be­ known as swizz. tween dullness and disaster, the Such was our introduction to present Seven emerged, the equals, that greatest arena of anxiety, the we believe, of any wonders any­ society of universes. After the cus­ where in the known plenum. The tomary six months of "initiation" final line-up, as given in the au­ war, designed to see if we could thoritative Dictionary for Dort­ take care of ourselves in the mual Worshipers (Vertebrates' Edition) bOI'der conflicts, we w€re accepted is as follows: as a member in good standing. As civilization crawled back from the 1. The University of Lesser Stone Age on a million planets, an Balak enlightened business leadership 2. The Copulation Pits of Ve­ arose, looked about itself, and nus (eastern section) asked, "Where are the tourists?" 3. The Great Bearded Kum­ Meaning, of course, the tourists quat of Lagesh we had fully expected from the 4. The Copulation Pits of Ve­ other universes. But the tourists nus {western section) had come, had found Alligator 5. The Brass Nodes of the Uni­ Wrestling and Historic Birth­ verse places, had known horror, and had 6. The Copulation Pits of Ve­ gone. .nus {middle section) To entice them back, local busi­ 7. The Crystals of Lalande nessmen decided to choose seven outstanding curiosities and pro- · {Some people have said that tills mote them intensely-seven, be­ choice of wonders places too much cause certain old legends spoke of emphasis on sex. But in truth the an original Seven Wonders, such emphasis is merely on copulation, things as the Hanging Clotheslines which, as Herzenstube the De- 72 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTIOK praved has repeatedly testified,., is wide prominence when Dr. Loup­ altogether different, and in .any Garou established his "health insti­ case admits of more variety.) tute" there. Crust analysis by Mol­ Probably the event that did dewy shows the usual amounts' of more than any other to bring our the lighter elements, anomalous Seven \Vonders to plenum promi­ concentrations of lutetium, erbium, nence was the epic series done on and astatine, and a trace of that them by the magazine Ylem. Hours still unidentified substance that after the first issue hit the stands, had such an unhappy effect on travel bureaus, churches, and bars ·Moldwey. However, all this is quite were besieged by an aroused pub­ irrelevant, since the University of lic. Many were the attempts to e-x­ Lesser Balak is not located in the plain those days of militant tour­ Balak system and never was. The ism on psychological and other title was chosen by one of the grounds, but I think we need look Founding Fathers of the Univer­ no further than the \Vonders them­ sity, after much study of the Kako­ selves. Read now excerpts from the Gastric languages, for the sake of text of Ylem's classic articles•, and euphony. Or so it is believed. judge for yourself . . . The Lesser Balak officials, when I finally discovered the where­ THE UNIVERSITY OF abouts of their university, proved LESSER BALAK most cordial and cooperative. They Lesser Balak is a bleak, smallish gave me the run of the classrooms, mass of dead rock revolving, from arranged interviews with the facul­ time to time, around Greater Balak, ty, and domiciled me in a small a bleak, smallish mass of dead rock, steel room, into which, on my first of, however, somewhat larger di­ night there, concealed jets began to mension than Lesser Balak. Or so it pour a mixture of phosphine, arsine is believed. Landings on the two and hydrogen cyanide. It seemed Balaks are recorded as early as the to me they were going to a lot of 14th Pelargonium, although it was trouble to provide me with the at­ not until three hundred years later mosphere of my native planet. that the system came to cosmos- Then I realized-this was a mani-

,. See, for example, Herzenstube vs. Metagalaxy, or his books, Some Things Worth Doing and God Proposes, the ld Disposes. ,. Written by the greatest and most adventurous traveler in the continuum, the Immortal Pim. (It was Pim, you1l recall, who spent seven years in the Citadel of Terror disguised as a defective vacuum cleaner.) Unfortunately, the Immortal Pim met his end last year, when, returning to his home planet, he was shot as an undesirable alien. THE SEVEN WONDERS OF THE UNIVERSE 73 festation of hostility. Quickly, I speak to a few of the inhabitants. reviewed the relevant passages of It would be interesting to know if Pentley's Modes of Death. I they had any forebodings of the coughed, convulsed, rigidified, and doom about to fall on them. So I'll slid agonizedly to the floor. Soon just-" blowers cleared the room and a "Professor .• ," troop of men entered. I exhaled the "Yes, Professor Sebub?" breath I had been holding, where­ "I don't think you undershtand upon the men coughed, convulsed, vhat my Noncebottle does. There rigidified, and slid agonizedly to iss a mutual-" the floor. I made my escape, but "Oh, I can see what it does, Pro­ necessarily had learned little about fessor. Wonderful! Marvelous! the University. However, I will re­ Now if you'll just stand aside • . • produce my few notes for readers There's a knowledgeable-looking interested in an institution for gentleman walking along. Sir, sir, which I can feel little fondness: could you tell me-" This is probably an example of "Don't move!" the famed Balak lecture-demon­ "What?" stration method. "Don't move until you've seen The instructor began dramatic­ Sally. I could tell, my good man, ally, "Why did mighty Anukabet that you are a connoisseur of wom­ fall? How did it go, in a single in­ en. Sally is the girl for you. Long of stant apparently, from the thriving leg, short of brain-and her motto capital of the Ennius sector to a is, 'Do Anything You Like and Like heap of shards and splinters? Azel­ Anything You Do.' Sally! Here's frage didn't know, Lisspun didn't one of your admirers!" know, not even Futtermassel knew. "But that's not-" But today, thanks to the Noncebot­ "Oh, a cheapskate, eh! Well, on tle of Professor Sebub, we are going your way, buddy, on your way.'' to find out. We are going to view "My goodness! I suppose a super­ Anukabet, from the safety of our ior civilization does produce unus­ seats, just minutes before the dis­ ual tensions, but-? Well, here's aster is calculated to have occurred. someone else. Please, could you tell Professor Sebub is shaking up the me-" Noncebottle now, and in just a mo­ "Don't talk to mel I am a rantry­ ment-ah, there it is, Anukabet in squeezer. A rantry-squeezer squeez­ all its glory. What spires, what es ran tries. It is enough.'' streets, what wise and gracious peo­ "How odd-he's running away! ple! ... You know, instead of Frankly, students, I'm feeling a bit just waiting and observing, I think out of place here. I'm going to make I'll step into the Noncefield and one more attempt with this intense- 74 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION looking fellow striding along to­ Mind and Body-Their Weak­ ward me. Hey there, I was wonder­ nesses, showed such sound scholar­ ing-" ship and unexampled mastery of "Korec!? You dare to walk a­ the subject that the University felt broad! You eluded me once, but it could do no better than to have this time I, Mutagalla, will serve this great authority head the School you well-" of Medicine. It's hard to believe, "No-o! You've made a mistake! after watching the old gentleman My name is William G. Frogpump, .buckle on his galoshes, and totter Professor of Enigmatic History at leisurely across the Quad amid the the University of-" bright hellos of his students, that "Yes, Korec, you were ever one this is the legendary figure who re­ for devious mouthings. Don't look duced Gron the Insensate to puling so frightened, Korec! I shall treat supplication, and who frustrated a you honorably. I shall put your germ-warfare attack by frightening heart on my mantelpiece, where it away the enemy's germs. ("Fear is will beat in sorrow beside that of not a monopoly of the higher beings your accursed brother. Ah, don't alone; appropriate stimuli will of­ back away, my friend-it is too ten rouse apprehension in the low­ late. It was too late when you were liest organisms," was the way Dr. born. Now, if you'll stand just so Gallinule explained this latter -yes, how very accommodating feat.) of you-" The ULB Library. "PROFESSOR SEBUBI ! Undoubtedly the oddest thing HELP!!" about the ULB Library is that one Professor Sebub rushed forward, does not consult the card catalog to tripped over the Noncebottle, and find a desired book; one consults smashed it into shards and splint­ the books to find a desired catalog ers ... card. You see, what is spoken of as Here are some sidelights on the a "card" is actually, in most cases, only ULB faculty member I got to an immense reference work, of meet. much greater length and scope than The students' favorite is of course the original item itself. This is be­ colorful old Dr. Gallinule, who be­ cause the ULB librarians do not fore coming to the University was consider a book properly catalogued better known as Marash the Feral, until they have re-created its au­ Torturer Extraordinary to the Un­ thor's mind, noted the potentialities appeased !\law. In this latter capa­ therein, and made an exhaustive city, Dr. Gallinule enjoyed a long commentary thereon. Naturally, career of public service, and the this usually involves printing the book he wrote upon his retirement, complete text of every book which THE SEVEN WONDEllS OF THE UNIVERSE 75 the author in question has written that weren't displayed even in the or will write-after which, of lobby. "You'll be disappointed," he course, the author is apprised of his warned. "\Ve only possess the cata­ superfluity and told of the virtues log cards, and although they con­ of agriculture. Notwithstanding tain a work's total essence, and the generous land grants made a­ more besides, you will find them vailable by the University, this pol­ very different from what you ex­ icy has resulted in a certain amount pect." Nevertheless I persisted, and of rancor. called for the card on Ho Tarkee's Another odd thing about the How To Do with Those That Do ULB Library _is that, unlike most Too, that most degraded of all lit­ university libraries, it is open to erary productions, for which the public. However, the public Tarkee" was finally banished to the never makes use of it. Nor, for that Null Class. The card was brought, matter, do the University students. and I was stunned to see that it Nor the University faculty. This was nothing but a little slip of curious circumstance is accounted white paper on which was written, for by the fact that in the library "A sound mind in a sound body." lobby there is maintained a choice "Well, what did you expect?" the selection of time-tested pornogra­ Director consoled me. "We are al­ phy. Anyone is free to browse there ways interested in making a psy­ and take any book he likes. In spite chologically representative state­ of this, no book has ever had to be ment, and Tarkee was so healthy replaced. "The really good books," and guileless that there was noth­ the Director explains, "can take ing else to say. Now if you had care of themselves." The only peo­ called for the card on Toby and ple who get past this psychological Susie Learn about Growing Up, you barrier (the others forget what they would have been brought a multi­ came for) are a few old scholars volume treatise of such unrelieved who never speak but occasionally depravity that the 300 scholars who exchange knowing glances. I asked collaborated on it voluntarily com­ the Director, a man of mature but mitted suicide, after their task was not immemorial years, how he had done, 'so that others might not be resisted the distraction of the por­ polluted,' as the epitaph has it. nography. "I wrote it," he said. Frankly, though, for sheer old-fash­ In view of this demonstrated ioned smut you still can't beat broad-mindedness, I felt I could Northcote's Table of Elliptic Inte­ ask the Director to let me see some grals. But for a real tour de force of the really racy items, the books of filth I recommend . • ."

"Also the author of Pleasures That Can Only Be Experienced Once. 76 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION

THE GREAT BEARDED THE CRYSTALS KUMQUAT OF LAGESH OF LALANDE On the plain of Lagesh squats The Crystals of Lalande seem to the Great Bearded Kumquat. have been the outcome, according ("Gahl Bearded! Disgusting!" was to the histories that have survived heard on all sides.) The Great from those sunless days, of the en­ Bearded Kumquat answers any counter between the Ultimate Tor­ questions that visitors are impru­ pidity and the Boundless Potency. dent enough to put to it. Some fault The ensuing necrona produced a has been found with these answers, number of grievous artifacts, but the Great Bearded Kumquat among them the Crystals. If skill­ never has found any fault with its fully tickled, the Crystals apparent­ visitors, whom it pronounces "uni­ ly have the property of answering formly delLious." any question whatsoever, though al­ THE BRASS NODES OF ways with greater or lesser derange­ THE UNIVERSE ment to the questioner's nervous The wonder about the Brass system. If unskillfully tickled, they Nodes isn't the Nodes; it's that any­ do their will, and on this even the body goes to see them. They're Nodar are silent. It is sufficient to housed in a big canvas tent, right cite the case of Captain Weather­ between the All-Night Revival and by, their discoverer, who, mistak­ the Mad Caterpillar. Inside there's ing them for the Crown Jewels of Moloi, swept them into his palm, nothing but these two big brass cyl­ clasped them avidly, fell back, inders hanging in the air. People come up, and pat them, and gawk screamed once "The Others! The at them, and then kind of sheep­ Others!" and immediately relapsed ishly make their way to the refresh­ into that state which caused his ment stand, as though they realized remains to be committed to the they'd been taken, whicli of course Deeps. they have been. Occasionally some THE COPULATION PITS old prophet will flop on his feet be­ OF VENUS fore them, and confess his sins, or somebody else's, or swear eternal The Pits are rectangular, square, obedience to the Nodes, and prom­ hexagonal, spherical, hollow, solid ise to preach their message through large, small, bright, dark, and, well all the starways. But about this time -acounts differ, since those it dawns on the old geezer, what emerging from the Pits are not in is their message, anyway? and he an eminently coherent state. On ends up at the refreshment stand, the day I arrived, there was even looking more sheepish than most. more confusion than usual-a riot THE SEVEN WONDERS OF TilE UNIVERSE 77 had broken out at the Altar to the utes, better hot-foot it over there." Unknown Phallus, and a rumor "Oh, damn," she groened, was being spread that Suvallah the "again? That's the third time today." Chaste was due to be offered at the "Sue's getting a little snooty this Eastern Pits in twenty minutes. I season," Theo informed me after mingled with the crowd, refused she had left. "It really went to her several offers of obscure intent, and head when they built that 400- made my way to the hut of my old mile-high nude statue of her and friend, Theodosius the Troglodyte, the entire nation of Celibatia went whose job it is to emerge every half mad from seeing it on their hori­ hour, cry "Doom, Doom!" in an ,zon,'' apocalyptic voice, and retreat into "Yes," I mused, "these human­ his hovel again. When I got there oids are frail vessels. What Arthur Theo threw down his copy of Real C. Clarke saw in them I'll never Life Sex Stories and greeted me know. Thank the Pulsating Nexus warmly. that you and I were born gnuteries, "Pim, how are you!" and right-thinking gnuteries at "Oh, all right," I flapped back at that." him. "What's on the schedule for Since, after all, my assignment today?" was to report on the Pits proper, I "Oh, the usual slack-season fill­ decided to stroll over that way and ers. The All-Enfolding Node will see as much as was safe. As I neared sweep away the first lucky 900 into the entrance, that great motto, Pit 39, a new shipment of retired known to all space and time, schoolteachers will be stripped, glowed up over my head: greased, and made to confront the OH! OH! OH! Unmentionable, and those whose Speculation on the significance of names begin with-let's see, what these syllables has long been ramp­ is it today . . . oh, yes, "R" -, ant, but within my own lifetime will be declared Fair Game. And Ma'avranui, keenest of all philoso­ this evening Pilagor the Polyhedral phers, finally thought through to Perverse is doing the Rape of Rome their inmost meaning. I was with in the Arena of Lust, playing all him at the time when, perched on the parts himself of course-you the sprinkler pipe in his office, as know how versatile Perry is." was usual with him during deep Suvallah dropped in; she's a thinking, he announced to his nice kid really, but what these breathless secretary, "The motto is, slavering Terrans see in her I'll obviously, a simple palilogetic for­ never know. Theo reminded her, mula used to indicate-" but then "Sue, you're due to be offered up at he lost his grip on the pipe and fell the East Pits in a couple of min- head foremost onto his desk. After 78 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION this unfortunate accident Ma'­ out "Wa-alter-r-r-r," which prob­ avranui showed no sign of his fonn­ ably has some erotic significance. er near-infinite intelligence and But the real drama takes place at had to take a job as slush-pusher in the Pits' debouchments, where a a slook mill. He has, I believe, host of dazed and damaged life­ made himself a modest reputation forms can be found at any hour of as a singer of Early Glornesian"' the day. No one can pass through Folk Songs, but I fear that the uni­ and be wholly unaffected. Today, versity's Goodberry Chair will picking my way carefully along the never again be so illustriously ten­ outskirts of this detritus, I sighted anted. uncountable quivering humanoids At the gate of the Middle Pit some curled into fetal balls, scores of sort of dispute was going on. A fe­ Rhabdomanths with all hearts de­ male humanoid was brandishing synchronized, numerous Pandari an ambrella and being told by the showing the characteristic fili­ gatekeeper, "Lady, you can't take gree of wootlee-starvation, several that thing inside" -but too late, Hincnophores with dangerously the Handler had her, and she was distended norkles, and one poor pulled into ·the Mouth, leaving Tegmite who had just turned bright nothing behind but a long-drawn- blue, which means that his days of

,. Trans. note. The Principate of Glornesia was discovered in the extensive stamp collection of Boyken R. Philpotts, when that famous explorer and philatelist lost his fortune and had to be put up for auction. Unfortunately Glornesia itself has never been located-MJ,'. Philpotts is being held incom­ municado by his present owner-but the stamps themselves are so engrossing that a rich culture has sprung up around them. Not a year goes by without at least one aspiring author trying his hand at the Great Glornesian Novel, and Saviors of Glornesia declare th~selves and are stoned with monotonous regularity. Illuminated volumes of Hackworth's massive Rise and Fall of the Olornesian Principate are to be seen in every cultivated home, and all the more patriotic history books coRtain a chapter on "Heroes of Old Glornesia.'' However, the discriminating reader will bear in mind, while enchanted by Hackworth's ponderous yet facile prose, and ravished by Finley's vaulting paeans in "Glornesia, My Glornesia"-that these and all similar works de­ rive ultimately from but three genuine Glornesian stamps: the 1-mufti Rutabaga Yellow, the 2-mufti Peat Moss Green, and the many-mufti Bog Slime Gray. The last named, depicting an unidentified animal eating a mail­ sack, is most esteemed by philatelists, but your translator favors the 2-mufti green, which portrays what is assumed to be a Glornesian, naked on a couch, above a legend reading, "Tootsie-She Put Out.'' The insipid 1-mufti, illus­ trating as it does "A Real Cup of Coffee," can safely be left out of aesthetic consideration. THE SEVEN WONDERS OP THE UNIVERSE 79 nitrogen-fixation are over. And, of hood, and accept the traditional course, the usual number of view that this amusement is forbid­ slumped bodies showing no re­ den by the words in the Book of sponse at all. What really happens Dort that run, "A goblet, a goblet, to these poor creatures inside the yea, even a hoop, the eyes of time Pits is an utter mystery. Some years their seasons savor, and all things ago the DVFC (Disabled Veterans flow vet who can know, but such is of Foreign Copulation) agitated for life, business is business, and dort an investigation of the subject, and is not mocked, yea, yea." Still, there government psychiatrists inter­ have been dissenters, and only last viewed 42,318,204 speaking sur­ year Dyb, son of that warm-blood­ vivors of the Pits. The result was ed cretin Gik, had the bad taste to 42,318,203 different stories. The stand up at the Council of Yar it­ lone correlation was elicited, not self and suggest a rival interpreta­ by the psychiatrists, but by Dr. Bas­ tion. Of course he received the com Fishfoot, the great detective Three Frowns and retired in con­ and sometime crime-czar, re­ fusion, but the damage had been nowned for his incisive question­ done, and now many of the newly ing of criminals and law officers. hatched have departed from the Dr. Fishfoot revealed this impor­ path of right mirgling, right ginz­ tant and unique datum in Volume eating, and high hysm. The 406 of his masterwork, Psychology thought of this made me feel so low of the Habitual Law-Abider, but that I suddenly had a great need strange to say, Volume 406 has dis­ for Theo's cheerful conversation. appeared from all libraries, and Dr. But when I got back to his hut I Fishfoot was himself kidnapped found him absorbed in trying to some while back by a nebulous dark come up with the day's Third Ru­ shape. mor. (Theo is required to spread at The spectacle I had just wit­ least three Disgusting Rumors ev­ nessed made me rather sick, and I ery day.) This evening it just was very glad to sit down for a few wouldn't come, and he finally de­ moments on a cool grassy bank be­ cided to take a chance on consult­ side the Fornication River. Lying ing the Crystals of Lalande. Under there, watching the colorful slime Theo's skillful tickling they stirred floating by, I wondered what the ominously, and when I picked him great appeal of the Pits was. Even off the floor he told me he had the gnuteries have been tempted to give answer. After wording it for maxi­ them a try. Fortunately, no gnutery mum effect, he leaned out into the has ever gone through with it­ walkway and hissed, "Say, buddy." most of us have been devout dart­ Immediately a large, skinny life­ worshipers since earliest gnewk- form detached itself from the 80 'FANTASY AI\'D SCIENCE FICTIO:-i crowd, ran over, and said, "So so, since Theo and I couldn't hear you're the one who sells filthy pic­ ourselves talk anymore, we got out tures! I've been looking all over for our machiavelli sets and prepared you. Well, here's what I like-" for an evening's amusement. The "No, no, friend, you've got me origin of this game is lost in dim wrong," Theo managed to inter­ antiquity. It is played with 44,404 pose. "I was just about to let you in little living figures, partly con­ on my patented method for increas­ trolled by the player to whom they ing-say, what do you want filthy belong, partly capable of thinking pictures for, anyway? Have you for themselves. Over a lifetime, a seen the Temple of Total Release?" superior player can so educate his "Yes." figures that they finally exceed his "The Four-Day Orgasm of the own ability; then he can retire and Giant Fungus?" live on their winnings. This is the "Yes." hope of every serious practitioner "The Difficult Union of the Sev­ of the game. However, Theo and I en-Sexed Koor Creatures?" had always played just for fun, and "Yes." in consequence our little creatures "The Burying Alive of the Lost knew nothing of those troubling in­ Tribes of Israel?" novations that so exercise our mod­ "Yes." ern masters. \Ve began the game in "The Fertilization of Squalodon traditional fashion, with the Du­ in the Averse Position?" brovsky Gambit (Misunderstood), "Yes." which consists in one side reading "The Talking Spermatozoa of a proclamation, the other side read­ the Over-Educated Yorb?" ing a proclamation, each building "Yes." a walled city, retiring into the "The Matin'g Chambers of the walled city, holding a festival, and 90-ton Frog-Thing? The Indecent then each reading a proclamation Pulsations of the Hrno Mass? The again, in which the statements of Engorged Ovipositors of the Anom­ the previous proclamation are de­ alous Annelid?" nied in as sly a manner as possible. "Yes. Yes. Yes." This is expected to sway the ad­ "Well, what do you want filthy vantage one way or the other. But pictures for, then?" Theo and I had been through all "Oh, they just make me go all this many times before, and squishy inside." through the succeeding stages too "Disgusting," Theo said and -debasing the currency, kidnap­ closed the door. ping the Sacred Ibis, hexing the It was night now, and the howls royal beer, and unmasking the Mix­ from the Arena of Lust had begun, chievous Jongleurs. In the end, as THE SEVEN WONDERS OF THE UNIVERSE 81 usual, Theo's Purple Corybant se­ of the old days when great things duced my Red Queen, who pre­ were done, and quietly letting our vailed on the Playboy King to treat pipes smoke us. Sue got in late, with the Decrepit War Minister, said, "Phew, they're sweaty in sum­ who was actually the Embittered mer," and started leafing through Sophist in disguise, and this re­ Theo's Real Life Sex Stories, ex­ sulted in voluntary stalemate. claiming "Gee!" every once in a We got the pieces back in their while. boxes again with only the usual It was time for me to go. I sur­ amount of resistance-tliey do so mised that I had collected enough love to build walled cities-and material for my article, so I bid went outside to look at the beauti­ Theo and Sue goodbye-they were ful mile-high flames rising from married last year you know (Sue sacked and pillaged Rome. "Very said nothing but a gnutery or a neat," Theo remarked. "Tomorrow stone would let her sleep at night) there won't be a single trace of to­ -and walked out into the dark night's activities in the Arena, ex­ midway. As I expected, several cept for the corpses of the few foot-pads descended on me, but I thousand spectators who tried to gave them one of the Lesser Frowns get in the act. Perry worked for six and they began to gibber pleasant­ years, and burned up half the plan­ ly. The light in the Unmention­ et, before he perfected the disten­ able's cage was still on, and I sion of his body into a controllable heard soft voices-probably he was flame. But this is nothing. You conversing with his keeper on the should have seen the Thanaturian Nature of the Good, a favorite topic Games in 1212, when Perry's fa­ of his for some years. When I ther, Ha'an the Unspeakable, hyp­ reached the tubeway to the space­ notized an audience of seven mil­ port, I turned back to give the Pits lion into thinking that they were and vicinity one last look. Far in each individual cells of a ruchbah the distance, the day's quota of lost in heat, and it destroyed four suns . children were being rounded up looking for a mate." and herded into pens for next We killed a couple more hours week's Amateur Night, but other­ this way, exchanging reminiscences wise all was still. Robert E(1·vin) Howard was born in 1906 at Peaster, Texas and lived in the Lone Star state for all of his short life. He began to write at the age of 15, made his first professional sale to Weird Tales in 1925, and thereafter wrote prolifically-historical, western, detective fiction as well as fantasy. His best known creation was Conan the Cimmer­ ian. When told that his mother had entered her final coma, H award shot himself with a pistol (June 11, 1936); this couplet found in his typewriter after his death: "All fled-all done, so lift me on the pyre;/ The Feast is over and the lamps expire." This short story was found only last year among Howard's papers. This is its.first appearance anywhere.

FOR THE LOVE OF BARBARA ALLEN

by Robert E. Ho~ard

T'was in the merry month of May, When all sweet buds were swellin', Sweet William on his death-bed lay For the love af Barbara Allen.

MY GRANDFATHER SIGHED AND It was his favorite. Makes me think thumped wearily on his guitar, of poor old Rachel Ormond, who than laid it aside, the song unfin­ loved him. She's dyin', her nep­ ished. hew Jim Ormond told me yester­ "My voice is too old and day. She's old, older'n I am. You cracked," he said, leaning back in never saw her, did you?" his cushion-seated chair and fum­ I shook my head. bling in the pockets of his sagging "She was a real beauty when she old vest for cob-pipe and tobacco. was young, and Joel was alive and "Reminds me of my brother Joel. Iovin' her~ He had a fine voice, The way he could sing that song. Joel, and he loved to play his gui- 82 FOR THE LOVE OF BARBARA ALLEN S3 tar and sing. He'd sing as he rode and hear the tinkle of hidden along. He was singin' 'Barbara Al­ streams over the stones. len' when he met Rachel Ormond. "You couldn't know," he sighed. She heard him singin' and come "It's not your fault, and I wouldn't out of the laurel beside the road to go back, myself, but Joel loved it. listen. When Joel saw her standin' He never knew anything else, till there with the mornin' sun behind the war came up. That's where her makin' jewels out of the dew you'd have been born if it hadn't on the bushes, he stopped dead and been for the war. That tore every­ just stared like a fool. He told me thing up. Things didn't seem the it seemed as if she was standin' in same afterwards. I came west, like a white blaze of light. so many Tenr;tessee folks did. I've "It was mornin' in the moun­ done well in Texas-better'n I'd tains and they were both young. ever done in Tennessee. But as I You never saw a mornin' in spring, get old, I get to dreamin'.'' in the Cumberlands?" His gaze was fixed on nothing, "I never was in Tennessee: I but he sighed deeply, wandering answered. somewhat in his mind as the very "No, you don't know anything old are likely to do at times. about it," he retorted, in the half "Four years behind Bedford For­ humorous, half petulant mood of rest," he said at last. 'There never the old. "You're a post-oak gopher. was a cavalry leader like him. You never saw anything but sand Ride all day, shootin' and fightin', drifts and dry shinnery ridges. bed down in the snow-up before What do you know about moun­ midnight, 'boots and saddles', and tain sides covered with birch and we were off again. laurel, and cold clear streams "Forrest never hung back. He was windin' through the cool shadows always in front of his men, fightin' and tinklin' over the rocks? What like any three. His saber was too do you know about upland forests heavy for the average man to use, with the blue haze of the Cumber­ and it carried a razor edge. I re­ lands hangin' over them?" member the skirmish where Joel "Nothing," I answered, yet even was killed. We come suddenly out as I spoke, there leaped crystal of a defile between low hills and clear into my mind with startling there was a Yankee wagon train vividness the very image of the movin' down the valley, guarded things of which he spoke, so vivid by a detachment of cavalry. We that my external faculties seemed hit that cavalry like a thunder­ almost to sense it-I could almost bolt and ripped it apart. smell the dogwood blossoms and "I can see Forrest now, standin' the cool lush of the deep woods, up in his stirrups, swingin' that 84 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION big sword of his, yellin' 'Cha.rgel "Rachel Ormond nearly died," Holler, boys, holler!' And we hol­ he said. "She never married, never lered like wild men as we went in, looked· at any other man. When and none of us cared if we lived or the Ormonds come to Texas, she died, so long as Forrest was leadin' come with 'em. Now she's dyin', up us. there in their house in the hills. "\Ve tore that detachment in That's what they say; I know she pieces and stomped and chased died years ago, when news of the pieces all up and down the Joel's death came to her." valley. When the fight was over, He began to thrum his guitar Forrest reined up with his officers and sing in the curious wailing and said, 'Gentlemen, one of my chant of the hill people. stirrups seems to have been shot They sent to the east, they sent to away!' He had only one foot in a the west, stirrup. But when he looked, he To the place where she tvas dwell­ saw that somehow his left foot had in', come out of the stirrup, and the Sweet William's sick, and he sends stirrup had flopped up over the for you, saddle. He'd been sittin' on the For the love of Barbara Allen. stirrup leather, and hadn't no­ ticed, in the excitement of the My father called to me from his charge. room on the other side of the house. "I was right near him at the "Go out and stop those horses time, because my horse had fell, from fighting. I can hear them with a bullet through its head, and kicking the sides out of the barn." I was pullin' my saddle off. Just My grandfather's voice followed then my brother Joel came up on me out of the house and into the foot, smilin', with the mornin' sun stables. It was a clear still day and behind him. But he was dazed his voice carried far, the only sound with the fightin' because he had a besides the squealing and kicking strange look on his face, and when of the horses in the stables, the he saw me he stopped short, as if I crowing of a distant cock, and the was a stranger. Then he said the clamor of sparrows among the strangest thing: 'Why, granddad!' mesquites. he said, 'You're young again! Barbara Allen I An echo of a dis­ You're younger'n I ami' Then the tant and forgotten homeland next second a bullet from some among the post-oak covered ridges skulkin' sniper knocked him down of a barren land. In my mind I dead at my feet." saw the settlers forging westward Again my grandfather sighed from the Piedmont, over the Alle­ and took up his guitar. ghenies and along the Cumber- FOR THE LOVE OF BARBARA ALLEN 85 ]and River-on foot, in lumbering I awoke with a jerk. The motion wagons drawn by slow-footed was that of the gaunt horse under oxen, on horseback-men in me. All about me were men, gaunt broadcloth and men in buckskin. and haggard in appearance, in The guitars and the banjoes worn grey uniforms. \Ve were rid­ clinked by the fires at night, in the ing between two low hills, thickly lonely log cabins, by the stretches timbered. I could not see what lay of river black in the starlight, up ahead of us because of the mass of on the long ridges where the owls men and horses. It was a dawn, a hooted. Barbara Allen-a tie to the grey unsteady dawn that made me past, a link between today and the shiver. dim yesterdays. "Sun soon be up now," drawled I opened the stall and went in. one of the men, mistaking my My mustang Pedro, vicious as the feeling. "\\'e'll have fightin' land which bred him, had broken enough to warm our blood purty his halter and was assaulting the soon. Old Bedford ain't marched bay horse with squeals of rage, us all night just for fun. I heah wicked teeth bared, eyes flashing, theah's a wagon train comin' down and ears laid back. I caught his the valley ahaid of us." mane, jerked him around, slap­ I was still struggling feebly in a ping him sharply on the nose when web of illusion. There was a sense he snapped at me, and drove him of familiarity about all this, yet it from the stall. He lashed out wick­ was strange and alien, too. There edly at me with his heels as he was something I was striving to re­ dashed out, but I was watching for member. I slipped a hand into my that and stepped back. inside pocket, as if by instinct, and I had forgotten the bay horse. drew out a photograph, an old­ Stung to frenzy by the mustang's fashioned picture. A girl smiled attack, he was ready to kill any­ bravely at me, a beautiful girl with thing that came within his reach. tender lips and brave eyes. I re­ His steel shod hoof barely grazed placed it, shaking my head dazedly. my skull, but that was enough to Ahead of us a low roar went up. dash me into utter oblivion. We were riding out of the defile, My first sensation was of move­ and a broad valley lay spread out ment. I was shaken up and down, before us. Along this valley moved up and down. Then a hand gripped a train of clumsy, lumbering wa­ my shoulder and shook me, and a gons. I saw men on horseback­ voice bawled in an accent which men in blue, whose appearance was familiar, yet strangely unfa­ and whose horses were fresher than miliar: "Hyuh, you, Joel, yuh goin' ours. The rest is dim and con­ to sleep in yo' saddle!" fused. 86 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION I remember a bugle blown. I Then before I could hear any­ saw a taU, rangy man on a great thing else, I came face to face with horse at the head of our column a man I recognized at last. Yet like draw his sword and stand up in his all else he was subtly altered. I stirrups, and his voice rang above gasped: "Why granddad I You're the blast of the bugle: "Charge! young again I You're· younger than Holler, boys, holler!" I am!" And in that flash I knew, Then there was a shout that and I clenched my fists and stood rent the skies apart, and we dumbly waiting, frozen, para­ stormed out of the defile and down lyzed, unable to speak or stir. Then into the valley like a mountain something crashed against my torrent. I was like two men-one head, and with the impact, a great that rode and shouted and slashed blaze of light lighted universal right and ]eft with a reddened sa­ darkness for an instant, and then ber, and one who sat wondering aU was oblivion. and fumbling for something elu­ Sweet Willia-m, he has died of sive which he could not grasp. But grief, the conviction was growing that I had experienced an this before; it And I shall die of sorrow/ was like living an episode fore­ My grandfather's voice still warned in a dream. waiJed in my ears, faint with the The blue line held for a few distance, as I staggered to my feet, minutes, then it broke in pieces pressing my hand to the gash the before our irresistible onslaught, bay's hoof had 'laid open in my and we hunted them up and down scalp. I was sick and nauseated the valley. The battle resolved it­ and my head swam dizziJy. My self into a hundred combats, where grandfather was still singing. Less men in blue and men in grey than seconds had elapsed since circled each other on stamping, the bav's hoof felled me senseless rearing horses, with bright blades on the. littered stable floor. Yet in glittering in the rising sun. those brief seconds I had travelled My gaunt horse stumbled and through the eternities and back. I went down, and I pulled myself knew at last my true cosmic iden­ free. In my daze I did not take off tity and the reason for those his saddle. I walked toward a dreams of wooded mountains and group of officers and men who gurgling rivers and of a brave, were clustered about the tall man sweet face ·which had haunted my who had Jed the charge. As I ap­ dreams since childhood. proached, I heard him say: "Gen­ Going out into the corral, I tlemen, it seems the enemy has caught the mustang and saddled shot off one of my stirrups." him, without bothering to dress my FOR THE LOVE OF BARBARA ALLEN 87 scalp-wound. It had quit bleeding cotton-headed children looked tim­ and my head was clearing. I rode idly at me from other doorways. down the valley and up the hill un­ Doc Blaine came out from an Inner til I came to the Ormond house, room and stared at me. perched in gaunt poverty on a "What the devil are you doing sandy hillside, limned against the here?" brown post-oak thickets behind it. The Ormonds had lost interest The paint on the warped boards in me. They went wearily about had long ago been worn away by their tasks. I came close to Doc rain and sun, both equally fierce in Blaine and said in a low voice, the hills of the Divide. "Rachel! I must see her!" He stared I dismounted and entered the at the insistence of my tone, but yard with its barbed wire fence. he is a man who sometimes in­ Chickens p_ecking on the porch stinctively grasps things that his scampered squawking out of the conscious mind does not under­ way, and a scrawny hound bayed stand. at me. The door opened to my He led me into a room and I knock and Jim Ormond stood saw an old, old woman lying on a framed in it, a gaunt, stooped man bed. Even in her old age her vital­ with sunken cheek~ and lack­ ity was apparent, though that was lustre eyes and gnarled hands. waning fast. She lent a new at­ He looked at me in dull sur­ mosphere even to the wretched sur­ prise, for we were only acquaint­ roundings. And I knew her and ances. stood transfixed. Yes, I knew her, "Is Miss Rachel-" I began. "Is beyond all the years and the she-has she-" I halted in some changes they had wrought. confusion. He shook his bushy She stirred and murmured: head. "Joel! Joell I've waited for you so "She's dyin'. Doc Blaine's with long! I knew you'd come." She her. I reckon her time's come. She stretched out withered arms, and I don't want to live, noway. She went without a word and seated keeps callin' for Joel Grimes, pore myself beside her bed. Recognition old soul." came into her glazing eyes. Her "May I come in?" I asked. "I bony fingers closed on mine ca­ want to see Doc Blaine." Even the ressingly. Her touch was that of a dead can not intrude uninvited on young girl. the dying. "I knew you'd come before I "Come in," he drew aside, and died," she whispered. "Death I went into the miserably bare couldn't keep you away. Oh, the room. A frowsy-headed woman cruel wound on your head, Joel! lvas moving about listlessly, and But you're past suffering, just as 88 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION I'll be in a few minutes. You never Sweet William lies in the upper forgot me, Joel?" churchyard, "I never forgot you, Rachel," I And by his side, his lover, answered, and I felt Doc Blaine's And on his grave grew a lily­ start behind me and knew that my white rose, voice was not that of the John And on hers grew a briar. Grimes he knew, but another, a They grew, they grew to the church different voice whispered down steeple-top, the ages. I did not see him go, but And there they grew higher, I knew he tip-toed out. no They tied themselves ill a true lov­ "Sing to me, Joel," she whis­ er's knot, pered. "There's your guitar hang­ And there remained for ever. ing on the wall. I've kept it al­ ways. Sing the song you sang when The string snapped loudly. we met that day beside the Cum­ Rachel Ormond was lying still and berland River. I always loved it." her lips were smiling. I disen­ I took up the ancient guitar, gaged my hand gently from her and though I had never played one dead fingers and went out. Doc before, I had no doubts. I struck Blaine met me at the door. the worn strings and sang, and my "Dead?" . voice was weird and golden. The "She died years ago," I said dying woman's hands were on my heavily. "She waited long for him; arm, and as I looked, I saw and now she must wait somewhere recognized the picture I had seen else. That's the hell of war;.. it up­ in the defile of the dawn. I saw sets the balance of things and youth and love everlasting and un­ throws lives into confusion that derstanding. eternity can not make right."

TRICON, The 24th World Science Fiction Convention

•.• will be held September 2, 3, 4, and 5, 1966 at the Sher.tton­ Cleveland Hotel in Cleveland, Ohio. Membership is $1.00 for overseas fans; $2.00 plus $1.00 if you attend for all others. Make checks payable to: 24th World Science Fiction Convention, P. 0. Box 1372, Cleveland, Ohio 44103. Toastmaster will be Isaac Asimov and the guest of honor is L. Sprague de C~mp. THE SCIENCE SPRINGBOARD .... .,..

METEOROID COLLISION by Thoodore L. Thomas

SPACECRAFT ARE A COMMON an enormous velocity. The best thing these days, and so the time that has yet been accomplished is has come for one of them to be 30,000 feet per second using a hit with a meteoroid of some size. 2-stage gas gun, but things will get Space in the vicinity of Earth does better. not abound in interplanetary de­ Meantime, theories abound, bris, but it is not empty either. such as the rigid projectile theory, The things that traverse it are com­ the thermal penetration theories, pletely outside the experience of the blast wave theory, and the hy­ men. It has been necessary to open drodynamic theories. They all deal a few research programs and to with what happens at impact at coin a few theories to tell what will enormous velocities when a tre­ happen when a man-made object mendous amount of energy is sud­ and a natural object finally meet denly released on a small area. in space. Both the projectile and the impact The size range of the meteoroids area vaporize, but it is important is well understood; it varies from to learn the exact mechanism in a mote so small you can't see or order that spaceship shields can feel it to a giant weighing in at be designed. It is recognized that over a billion tons. The feature if the meteoroid is large enough, that is not understood about the no shield can be devised to stop it. meteoroids is their velocity. Now Perhaps the smaller impacts and there's something awesome. coll'isions can be put to some use. The maximum velocity of the Clothe the spaceship in a material meteoroids seems to be about 250,- whose crystals have no center of 000 feet per second, although the symmetry, like quartz. Such mate­ average velocity is about 50,000 rial would produce a piezo-electric feet per second. But even the aver­ effect; an electrostatic voltage age velocity is well over the escape would appear across it at each im­ velocity of a body from Earth's pact. The electrical charges thus gravity. No man has ever been generated could be used to do use­ able to set up a collision at such ful work aboard. All minor impacts 89 90 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION would generate welcome additions As to major impacts, there would to the spaceship's power system. be only one.

LETTER TO A TYRANT KING

Dear Rex, Things have changed some Since you were here: Weather's colder for one thing, Not as cold as it's been But colder; I can't get started, Rex­ For one thing there's nothing to eat Things are getting smaller and a lot faster. Since you've gone Some of the trees have died off, The rivers, lakes seem fewer; Is there less water? Some people, they're new since you were here, Have moved in-they're noisy- 1 can't concentrate on this letter;, You'd like them, though, But for their midget size. It's not the same, Rex, Since you were buried, There are too many new people, Diplodocus died off, The forests have turned to coal. Yours faithfully, BILL BuTLER "Organization Men never die," a friend once punned, sort of, "they're just filed away." Take Harold Carterson, for instance, Chief Methodology Coordinator (retired) for the Megalo Corporation and hero of the story below, who sets out to prove that there is always a top-drawer slot for an aggressive, hard-working company man-even in H ~ll.

A MATTER OF ORGANIZATION

by Frank Bequaert

As CHIEF METHODOLOGY COOR­ mass of files suddenly collapsed. dinator for the Megalo Corpora­ Harold was crushed instantly to tion, Harold Carterson always felt death. that he should not shirk from fac­ Harold had been too busy with ing personally the most dangerous his work as Methodology Coordina­ of assignments. Thus when it was tor to worry about the state of his reported to him that the underpin­ soul, and he was spirited directly nings of a file bank in Paper Ware­ to Hell. He found himself seated house 7 showed signs of weaken­ in a:rr office not unlike the Person­ ing, he hastened there in person. nel Department of the Megalo Cor­ It was indeed a serious situation. poration and facing a personable Two of the support columns were young man behind a desk. twisted out of line, and the lower "Harold Carterson ?" cabinets groaned menacingly un­ "Yes," said Harold, half dazed der the tons of accounting forms in as he tried to get his bearings.· On­ the upper files. Despite the pleas ly the faint sulfurous odor in the of his subordinates, Harold ap­ air and the flicker of orange flames proached the critical area for a beyond the office window betrayed closer inspection. With a rending the fact that he had arrived in the agony of ripping steel the whole nether regions. 91 92 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION "I am Demon Smythe," said the women are the worst, especially young man, extending his hand. the churchgoers. You never heard Harold shook hands cautiously. such carrying on. Even when you "I like to get the name business open the book and spread their sins straightened out right away," said in front of them, they won't admit the demon. "We've had some pretty them." bad mistakes in the past, doling "Must be pretty difficult to han­ out agonies to the wrong souls. The dle," said Harold. Chief doesn't like administrative "You can say that again," errors." Smythe agreed. "Some days I drag "The Chief?" said Harold. home from my shift swearing I'll "The Devil himself," said never set foot in the office again. Smythe. "I suppose you're a little But in the morning I'm always upset at not having him speak to anxious to get to work. I guess I you in person? Most souls I inter­ just like working with souls." view seem to feel that way." "I bet it isn't every -demon who Harold thought quickly. It gets the chance to do interview seemed clear that Demon Smythe work," said Harold. would be doling out his punish­ Harold noticed a definite ex­ ments. It would not hurt to be in pression of pride come over the de­ his good graces. "Oh, I'm not in the mon's face. "You are right there," least upset," said Harold. "In fact said Smythe. "Myself, for example. it's good to realize that Hell is a For eons I was just a pitchfork man well-run operation where respon­ in Heat Agonies. Then the foreman sibility is delegated to capable peo­ moved up the ladder, and they ple." picked me as his replacement. I'd The demon smiled. "You have had my eye on that slot for a long no idea of the- number of souls we time. Once I made foreman there have to process through here in a was no stopping me." day. And the types we get. Certain­ "How's that?" said Harold. ly not the cream of the crop." ''I'd kept my eyes open when I "I bet _they're pretty self-right­ was prodding the sufferers. There eous when they first realize where were obvious ways of improving the they are," said Harold. What was efficiency of the operation. I put a true for people was apparently true few of my ideas to work, and with­ for demons, Harold realized. If he in a century I had the anguish co­ could get Smythe to talk about his efficient up to point-nine-two. The work he might be in a pleasant boys in the front office couldn't mood when it came time to hand help but notice that." out his retributions. Harold was fascinated. Hell, he "I'll say," said the demon. "The was discovering, was not much dif- A MATTER OF ORGANIZATION 93 ferent from the Megalo Corpora­ not dim the devil's memory'?" said tion. Smythe. "Just what did you do?" he asked Harold forced a smile, "I guess "A number of simple things," you have a point there." said Symthe. "First I installed au­ "It was very interesting read­ tomated spits. Then I added bub­ ing," said the demon, as if to soothe bling clear mountain springs just Harold's feelings. "Nothing dull out of reach." and prosaic about that sin." "It's amazing how most oper­ "Is that all there is against me?" ations profit when a man of imag­ said Harold. ination takes over," said Harold, "That and the usual list of minor swallowing hard to suppress his in­ prevarications." ner feelings. Harold was about to ask what The demon glanced at his there might be on the other side of watch. "How we have been chat­ the ledger, but he realized just in ting on," he said. ''I'm afraid that time that this would be exactly it's time to get down to business." what the demon would be expect­ He opened a manila folder on his ing. He was not getting as buddy­ desk. "I'll bet you're curious about buddy with Smythe as he would why you're here rather than"­ have liked. and here he nodded his head to­ "What's your professional opin­ ward the ceiling-"upstairs." ion," he asked instead. "How does "It would be good to know,'' said my record chalk up against, say, Harold. the average sinner." "Misdirected worship seems to The demon looked pleased. He be the main count against you,'' had been expecting Harold to said the demon. "You kno·w, render­ break down and plead the worth ing too much unto Caesar." of his virtuous deeds. "I never really thought about it "To be honest," said the demon, much," said Harold, "but I guess "I think your case could have gone I did neglect the spiritual end of either way. You came in at a bad things." moment, however. The mountain "Then there's the matter of the climbers pretty well overloaded to­ girl." day's quota for upstairs." "Girl?" said Harold, 'What girl?" "Mountain climbers?" said Har­ The demon consulted a sheet in old. "Quota?" the folder. "Jane," he said, "a Jane "I realize it's a little confusing," Willoby." said. the demon. "It was a rescue "But that was a good fifteen mission, thirty men all roped to­ years ago!" said Harold. gether going up Mt. McKinley to "Who was it who said 'Time d6es save two trapped on top. An ava- 94 FANTASY AKD SCIENCE FICTION lanche took them all. Deaths dur· "I have one more question," he ing errands of mercy automatically said. discredit all our claims. Those "Shoot," said Smythe. thirty filled up the quota and we "Those agonies of mine, to just got everyone else." what sins do they correspond?" "It seems reasonable," said Har­ "I don't get you," said the de­ old. "I guess they deserved their re­ mon. ward." "Is the thirst stretch for misdi­ "Sometimes one wonders," said rected worship and the hunger for the demon. "I was looking over what I did to Jane, for example?" some of their records, and I'd say "Oh no," said Smythe. "We nev· a couple of them were pretty lucky er break it up that way. Just gen· to make it." eral punishment for all your sins." "\Veil," said Harold, "things Harold shook his head and tried would fall apart if we didn't all to look very disappointed. "That's follow the administrative proce­ really too bad," he said. "I thought dures." you ran things better than that." "Right," said Smythe. "Which "How's that?" said the demon. brings us to your agonies. I must He sounded a little annoyed but admit that you've been quite a sport very interested. about the whole thing. I'm going "It's pretty obvious that most to put you down for the minimum. people would suffer much more if A millennium of thirst, five cen­ there was a definite correlation be­ turies of hunger, and then a· couple tween their particular momentary of decades of hot coals. After that agony and a particular sin. It's we'll play it by ear." pretty hard to regret sins in gener· Harold was not the least pleased al." with his future prospects, but he "That's an interesting point: did not betray his feelings. "That's said Smythe. "But it would require awfully nice of you to help me out changing the whole system a­ this way," he said. round." "We're not intractable," said the "I always said that administra­ demon. "You play ball with us and tive procedures are made to be we'll play ball with you." changed if the change is for the Harold tried to think what he better," said Harold. could say next. It was obvious he "They're the Chief's procedures,' was about to be hustled out to be­ said the demon. "He's pretty parti­ gin his millennium of thirst, and cular about having his ideas car­ he needed a drink very badly al­ ried out." ready. There was only one faint "I'm sure if he saw the whole possibility of saving the situation. thing mapped out in an efficient A MATTER OF ORGANIZATION 95 way he would heartily approve. secretary. He began to work out his And he'd remember the man . . . sin accounting system. I mean demon . . . who suggested Harold found he liked the pace it. Time never dims the Devil's of Hell. Demon Smythe looked in memory, you know." every year or so to see how he was The demon's eyes gleamed sa­ getting on. Harold worked hard, tanically. "You may be right," he not so much due to the prospect of said. "Why don't you rough in what the agonies awaiting him, but more vou had in mind?" because it was his habit to put the · "I don't think," said Harold, most of himself into his work. "that this is the sort of thing that He first tackled the sins them­ can be put together in a rush. Give selves. It was obvious that they me a couple of decades and I'll badly needed organizing. He whip together a plan that will found books and books full of them really make your Chief sit up and in the Hell library. They were cate­ take notice." gorized but in a terribly archaic "I see the picture," said the de­ way. There was hardly any cross mon. "A man can't think well when referencing, and the numbering he's thirsty." system was something of a cross be­ "Of course," said Harold, "your tween the Dewey Decimal System procedures may be so rigid that and the Zip Code. This did not you can't make an exception. In surprise Harold, as he had long felt that case, bring on the agonies." that both of these systems had been The demon looked hurt. "Our designed by the Devil himself. system, like all good systems, has Harold immediately set to work flexibility. It so turns out that there creating a reasonable filing system. are a number of positions open for Each sin was placed in a general­ consultant demons. These posi­ ized category, and each category tions don't promise any permanent was assigned a simple four-digit respite from your agonies, but they number. Harold set the she-devil do allow the right soul to delay to work allotting sins to categories. his while he helps us out on some She turned out to be very good at particular research or development the job . . . worked like a fiend project." at it as a matter of fact. In just a "That sounds entirely satisfac­ few decades they had all of the sins tory," said Harold, with a long in­ categorized and cross referenced. ward sigh of relief. Harold polished up his system with a sin-index and a number of So Harold became a Research quick reference charts. He then de­ Associate. He was given an office signed a number of sin accounting of his own and a she-devil for a forms, and the job was done. Less 96 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTIOX than fifty years after he started, he damned filled the room. "Sounds laid the finalized plans on Demon pretty good to me." Smythe's desk. "It's beyond my comprehen­ "That was quick," said Smythe. sion," said Harold, "why you peo­ "I think you'll like it," said Har­ ple are so oriented toward the phys­ old. "Not only will it increase the ical agonies. A good program of sufferer's anguish coefficient across mental anguish would, in the long the board, but I think it will gen­ run, work so much more effective­ erally streamline operation for ly. But such a program needs re­ your whole office staff." search, and research needs statis­ "Sounds good," said the demon. tics." "How's it work?" "What do you mean?" "These administrative proce­ "If you know which sin categor­ dures give the complete picture," ies have the highest quantity of suf­ said Harold, holding up an inch fering, you can direct your work thick document. "But I'll run toward agonies which will produce through the system quickly for you. the maximum effect in those sin­ The basic operation revolves about ners. This will yield a maximum a central sin file where all of the total suffering in the shortest pos­ suffering is filed by sin category. sible time." There will be monthly summaries "I see your point," said Smythe. by category number showing just "And I -like it. Keep talking." how much suffering has been "Of course we keep individual worked off toward each category." files on the damned with totals "I don't get it," said Smythe. hour-by-hour of their agonies. I "What's the use of that?" don't need to tell you how useful "Don't you want to know just those files will be at millennium how much suffering is going on for review time." each sin category?" said Harold. "Good, good," said the demon. "It might be interesting," said "\Ve insure accurate reporting the demon. by the use of these agony report "Interesting!" said Harold. "I cards." Harold picked up a five-by­ don't see how you people have run six white printed form and held it a reasonable temptation program out for the demon's inspection. up until now without such statis­ "This is an hour-by-hour report of tics. And it's obvious that you can't the sufferer's agonies by sin cate­ possibly be optimizing total agony gory number." with your present operation." "Who fills these out?" asked "I don't know about that," said Smythe. Smythe. He went over and opened "The damned individual him­ the window. The moans of the self,'' said Harold. A MATTER OF ORGANIZATION 97 "I'm not sure that's good," said presentation without even having Smythe. "I'm not one for having to take up any of your time." breaks in agonies." "\Veil," said Harold, "I'm glad "Look at that form again," said it was so successful. Now I've been Harold. thinking about the temptation pro­ The demon inspected it more gram, and I think I can recom­ closely. mend some definite improve­ "How would you feel about fill­ ments." ing that out every shift?" said Har­ "That certainly is something old. worth thinking about," said the de­ The demon smiled. "A torture in mon, "and I definitely want to read itself,". he said. "Harold, you're a over whatever notes you've made, soul in a million." but I've got something special in "Thank you," said Harold. mind for you." "You certainly are to be com· "You have?" said Harold. mended on your thoroughness," ''Yes, I'm going to promote you said Smythe. "Now you just leave to Field Research Observer. It's the report and those charts here for really a rather simple job, but I me to go over, and I'll see about our think you'll find it restful after all presenting the matter to the Chief. the hard work you've put in over I'll check back with you in a couple the last few decades." of weeks." "Field Research Observer?" said Harold went back to his office Harold. He was beginning to be a where he spent his time outlining little suspicious. his proposal for a complete revis­ ''Yes," said the demon. ''You'll ion in the temptation department. observe the effects of your new ag­ Just two weeks later Demon Smythe ony program and report them back showed up. tome." "Well, I certainly want to thank Harold was now very suspicious. you," he said to Harold. "The pre­ '1s that what the Chief recommend­ sentation went very well, and the ed I should be doing?" he said. Chief was very much impressed." "Actually," said Smythe, "in my "Presentation?" said Harold. "I meeting with the Chief your name thought we were going to make a didn't come up. I thought your joint presentation." ideas would sell a little better if, "I didn't see any reason to both­ just for the present, we presented er you about it," said Smythe, with them as entirely Hell-originated. a definitely satanic smile. "You're The Chief tends to frown on ideas so busy. All the material you gave with a mortal taint. It's very back­ me made the whole thing so clear ward of him, I realize. If you want that I was able to take care of the my own opinion, you mortals have 98 FANTASY A D SCIENCE FICTION come up with some better ideas for the way we're implementing them." agonies than he's ever thought of, "This job you're 'promoting' me but he, is the Chief and I thought. to," said Harold .. "It's observing re­ actions to agonies. Just whose re­ "You presented my ideas as your actions?" own," shouted Harold. "Your own," said Smythe and his "Now I think that is a bit un­ laughter echoed through the smoky fair," said Smythe. "Try to look at corridors. the big picture. What we've done They chained Harold down to a is to take your ideas and present bare rock in the endless heat of an them with a number of minor but artificial sun. A spring of crystal important changes that make the clear water bubbled up close by and plan fit more into the overall spirit gurgled down the rock, just out of of Hell. I've knocked around this reach. Each shift his hands were place for some time now, and I freed and he was allowed to fill in think that I can say without a bit his time sheet allotting the various of doubt that if I had taken your hours of agony to the atonement of plan in to the Chief in the form his categorized sins. Between these you presented it to me, he would breaks he had plenty of time to con­ have rejected it outright. But they template the fact that Hell was in­ were essentially your ideas, and I deed very like the Megalo Corpora­ think you'll be pretty pleased with tion.

Handsome, Sturdy VOLUME FILES for Your Copies of FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION

Each Volume File will keep 12 copies of FANTASY & SCIENCE FICTION clean, orderly, and readily accessible. Sturdily built, the files are covered with a rich black and red washable leatherette, and the lettering is in 16-carat gold leaf. Reasonably priced at $2.50 each, 3 for $7.00, or 6 for $13.00, they are shipped fully preoaid on a money back basis if not satisfactory. Order direct from: JESSE JONES BOX CORPORATION Dept. F&SF , P.O. Box 5120 , Philadelphia 41, Pa; Here is a short SF yarn which will probably be funny and a bit far fetched to readers who live outside urban areas. If you are a resident of New York, Los Angeles, or most any large city, you will find it entirely credible and maybe not so funny.

NEAR THING

by Robin Scott

JT WOULD IMPOVERISH THE end of their fuel, sent back a sin­ planet for at least two genera­ gle faint negative report, and died tions, but the great search had to . in the fatal grasp of a strange be made. The Garyoni were a vig­ star's gravity. orous young race; they bred well And then came a positive re­ and frequently. Only their innate port. The telemetering equipment ferocity and love for personal com­ in Garos, the Garyoni capital, bat had kept their population just chattered with a new tone, and the short of the final explosion into excited technicians watching there starvation and oblivion. And even flailed their tentacles as the mes­ this fierce bloodthirstiness was los­ sage was deciphered: the third ing ground before the onslaught of planet out from a negative-magni­ teeming new generations of tiny, tude yellow sun of the proper radi­ hungry, omnivorous baby Garyoni. ation characteristics showed spec­ And so a thousand automated trographic evidence of abundant probes were sent out to a thousand water and an atmosphere that likely-looking stars, programmed matched very closely the oxygen­ to search until their fuel was ex­ nitrogen-carbon dioxide atmos­ hausted, to search for that rare phere which supported life in combination of solar radiation, at­ such abundance on Garyon. mosphere, and water that would There was great rejoicing at the mean the Garyoni had a new news in the streets of Garos. The world to expand into. Council decreed the Golden Ring Over nine-hundred came to the of Honor for the aging chief of 99 100 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION the probe program, and every citi­ The secondary probe went into zen was issued a supplementary solar orbit, confirmed the happy concupiscence ration card for the report of its predecessor, and shift­ first three raals of the new year. ed inward to intercept the third (However, to offset the untoward planet in its orbital track. The effects of this largess, the Council confirmatory news brought new cut the price of firearms by one cheering in the streets of Garos. half and doubled the proof of all There was another supplementary intoxicating beverages sold in the ration issued, and Gehazil-the Council-controlled grogshops.) new young director of the probe The good news set in motion program-was elevated to the the next phase of the search pro­ rank of his predecessor. gram. Based on the strong proba­ Planetary orbit was achieved. bility that a planet which ap­ Sensors reached for a land mass on peared capable of supporting Gar­ the whirling planet below. The yoni life was already adequately retro-drive fired, and the probe's supplied with an indigenous life instrumented capsule dropped of its own, the Council ordered a screaming through the atmosphere heavy step-up in the production of and slowed to fall with a gentle weapons of mass destruction and thud in a dense patch of stunted the organization and training of a jimpson weed growing on the verge large planetary expeditionary of a drainage ditch running along force. Only very young Garyoni Federal Route 4 7, just where it were chosen for this force, and climbs slightly to leap across the only those with at least ten notches industrial wastelands along the in their side-arms. There was plen­ Passaic river. It was rush hour in ty of time for training: the sec­ New Jersey, and the sound of the ondary probe-the probe which probe's arrival was lost in the would land and make the final, drumming throb of a line of diesel definitive analysis of the new trucks and impacted passenger planet-would take seven years to cars crawling up the bridge ap­ reach its destination. Its report proaches. would take another seven years to The capsule lay silent for a mo­ reach Garyon. And the expedi­ ment, carefully assessing its inter­ tionary force would be still anoth­ nal condition and readiness to car­ er seven years reaching its target. ry out the rest of its programmed But the secondary probe was mission. All in order, it ejected a soon on its way, and the flow of short antenna and spat its brief life and death on Garyon went on telling message back to the orbit­ at a heightened pace as it pursued ing carrier for relay to the home its mission. planet. Seven years later, the news NEAR THING 101 of its safe arrival brought decora· "Caron dioxide: 300 parts per tions to its designer and builder. million .. ," The capsule deployed its atmos· The streets of Garos were scenes pheric analysis probe and began of orgiastic riot. Emptied ration to sample the air about it, report· books blew in the wind like leaves ing its findings as it proceeded. in October. "Pressure: 97 grugs per square Then the blow fell: klinz," read Program Director Ge· "Carbon monoxide: 250 parts hazil seven years later. per million . . ." "Wonderful! Perfect!" chorused The cheering crowds fell silent. the technicians and councilmen There was stunned shock in Garos. gathered around the readout pan· Finally, old Saankel, chief of the el. Zingal, the designer of the at· Council's atmosphere committee, mospheric probe, exuberantly folded his tentacles in a gesture of grabbed his assistant and expend· hope and spoke of the possibility ed half a raal's ration on the spot. of filters, of the miracles to be "Atmospheric content," read wrought through "atmospheric en· Gehazil. gineering." He got few folded ten· "Oxygen: 738,954 parts per tacles in answer. Still it could be million. worse ••• "Nitrogen: 240,758 parts per Even more slowly, as the com· million. plexity of analysis increased, the "Water vapor: 10,602 parts per capsule continued its report. million. "Helium: four parts per mil· "Argon: 9,103 parts per mil· lion. lion .•••" "Krypton: three parts per mil· The telling reports slowed as lion. the analysis of trace elements ami "Neon and Xenon: each two compounds grew more complex. parts per million . . ." There was near hysteria in Garos. After the initial shock, the tech· The results thus far showed a near nicians were recovering. There perfect match with the Garyoni at· were more and more folded ten· mosphere. Only a sufficiency of tacles, and a few optimistic indi· carbon dioxide-which might in· viduals-still in a mood to cele· dicate the presence of complex brate-began to tot up their ration hydrocarbons and, most irnpor· books. Orders were placed for fil. tant, edible plant life-was as yet tering apparatus and masks to be lacking to demonstrate a perfect used by the expeditionary force, atmosphere. now loading at the Garos space The capsule continued-slow· terminal. It was unlikely that any ly-to deliver its report. very dangerous form of life could 102 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION have evolved on a planet with that filters for all that other stuff in the much carbon monoxide in its at­ atmosphere?" mosphere, but you never could tell. The Chief of Staff nodded wear­ Perhaps there was some sort of ily. "Perhaps. But you can't colon­ natural filtering system . . . ize a planet if you don't have a The capsule beside the highway basically non-toxic atmosphere, at began to report more complex cam­ least an atmosphere that will sup­ pounds: port some sort of edible life. You "Ethylene: two parts per mil­ couldn't grow a stunted tameel in lion. air as foul as that." "Nitrogen dioxide: 1. 7 5 parts per million. The capsule had finished its an­ "Hydrogen sulphide: 17 parts alysis of the atmosphere. Unmind­ per million ...." ful of the fact that no one was in­ Zingal, the designer of the at­ terested in the rest of its pro­ mospheric analysis probe, was the grammed infonnation-gathering, first to go. He plunged forty stories it went on about its task. It de­ from the chamber containing the ployed a flexible, armored tube, readout panel to the crowded street headed by a water-sensing guid­ below. The new order was s;tripped ance system. The tube snaked from the chest of Gehazil, and then through the jimpson weeds to the his chest was stripped from the verge of the Passaic and dived be­ rest of him. The once-joyoos low the surface. Valves opened and crowds in the streets turned mur­ a pump deep inside the capsule derous in their disappointment, began to whir. Passaic river water and the over-population problem coursed upward and entered the of the Garyoni was-at least tem­ capsule for analysis. porarily -solved. There was a sudden flash of At the barracks outside Garos, badly overloaded components. the Chief of Staff rescinded the or­ The capsule heaved once, SJ.1ently, der for filters and commenced

BB OR NOT BB, THAT IS THE QUESTION-

by Isaac Asimo"

ALL SCIENTISTS HAVE FUN• BUT the ones that have the most fun are, in my own opinion, the cosmogonists. ("Cosmogony" is from Greek words meaning "universe-birth" so cosmogonists are obviously involved in the study of the origin and development of the Universe.) Nobody was around at the origin, so there are no eye-witness reports. Cosmogonists can reach their conclusions only on the basis of some very subtle observations that are just barely within reach of modern instru­ ments. This gives them vast scope within which to exercise their imagin­ ations and a vast background-all of space and time-against which to exercise it. Who could resist? No astronomer and hardly any non-astronomers. Certainly, not I. If I am held back at all, it is that the task of working up a good cosmo­ gony, a good one, requires a far greater knowledge of mathematics and of theoretical physics than I possess. However, while that inhibits me, It doesn't stop me cold. I have my opinions on the subject and if I were to try to bottle them up forever, the internal pressure might do damage to the speculative centers of my cerebrum. So here goes-

There are a number of Universe-models which describe, In the most general terms, the manner in which our Universe came to be organized into the fashion we now find it, and which predict how it may be ex­ pected to change further (or not change further) as we progress into the future. •Jn their work, l mean. What they 4D Ollftide busfnal Jwun b their awn concern, and I would11't dream of mquiri11g. I Ill 104 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION All the models have to fit one great overall observation. The most dis­ tant objects we can see, the galaxies outside our own local cluster, all show a "red-shift." That is, the characteristic lines present in their spec­ tra, are displaced toward the red end of the spectrum in every case. The usual interpretation of this red-shift is to the effect that the galax­ ies are receding from us. A receding object is known to show a red-shift in the light it sends us; and the greater the velocity of recession the great­ er the extent of the red-shift. It so happens that the farther the galaxy (judging from its brightness and from some other considerations) the greater the red-shift, and this is what would be expected if the Universe as a whole were expanding. This picture of an expanding Universe is a convenient one, for it fits the equa­ tions worked out by Albert Einstein in his General Theory of Relativity. Nor could anyone suppose that Einstein had arranged his theory to allow for the expansion, for he announced it in 1915 without suspecting the existence of expansion, and the observational data that enforced accept­ ance of an expanding Universe became clear only in the 1920's. Any Universe-model must, therefore, take the expansion of the Uni­ verse into account and explain it in physical terms if possible. If a Uni­ verse-model involves a non-expanding Universe, then some alternate explanation that will hold water must be found for the red-shift. On the whole, the Universe-models may be put into two classes: I) continuous creation, and 2) big bang. We can refer to them, conven­ iently, by their neatly alliterative initials, CC and BB. According to the CC models, creation is continuing all the time, sin­ gle atom by single atom, but so very slowly that no instruments in the armory of science could conceivably detect it now. Still, in the course of some billions of years, the amount of matter in the Universe would double as a result of this slow drizzle of creation. However, the Universe is expanding and in those same billions of years, the galaxies would have moved apart to the point where the amount of space between them had doubled. Most of the new matter would form, on a purely random basis, in the vast spaces between the galaxies. There they would collect into new galaxies, so that the distance between adjacent galaxies would remain the same in the long run. Nor would there seem to be twice as many galaxies altogether because in the course of the expansion of the Universe, the more distant galaxies would be car­ ried so far away that their red-shifts would become so extreme as to aHow little or no light to reach us at all. By the CC model, then, galaxies are being continually pushed beyond the detectable horizon, while new galaxies are continually being formed, BB OJ. NOT BB, THAT IS THE QUESTION- 105 so that the· overall order of the Universe does not change with time. There is no true beginning of the Universe, no true ending. The Universe is eter­ nal and-in the large view-unchanging. Individual galaxies, such as our own, would change, to be sure. They would be collected from the gathering matter between galaxies, form stars, evolve, and, eventually, die; but the order-of-galaxies would remain unchanged. According to the BB models, however, this is not so. The Universe has both a beginning and an ending, or at least there was a time long ago when it was radically different from what it is now and there will be a time in the future when it will be radically different again. In the BB models, the expansion of the Universe is explained In a di­ rectly physical manner. If the Universe is expanding as though ft were being blown apart, that is because something once did blow it apart. Once long ago, all the matter of the Universe was crushed together into an incredibly concentrated mass something like one gigantic neu­ tron star (see SQU-U-U-USH, Per SF, November 1965). This •cosmic egg" exploded and out of its remants were formed the galaxies, which are still flying apart against the pull of mutual gravitational attraction In re­ sponse to the force of that tremendous long-ago explosion. Which is it, then, CC or BB? Continuous creation or big bang? The Universe as it exists today is consistent with either type of model, but this is not so of the Universe as it exists all through time. By the CC model, there is no overall change with time. Old galaxies recede and new ones form in such a way that galaxies are strewn through space with the same thidmess now, a trillion years in the past, and a tril­ lion years in the future. Furthermore, the new galaxies mix with the old ones in purely random fashion, so that at any point in time, any given galaxy will be surrounded by galaxies in all stages of development from the very new to the very old. By the BB model, there is an overall change with time. Billions of years ago. all the galaxies were crowded together and all were young. Bil­ lions of years from now, all the galaxies will be spread widely apart and all will be old. Fprtheremore, at any given moment of time, any particular galaxy will be surrounded by others of like age. This means that we can distinguish between the CC and BB models by building a time machine, travelling into the far past or far future and taking a quick look at the Universe. And we can do that-after a fashion. Light cannot travel faster than 186,282 miles per second. This is fast on the terrestrial scale but it is a mere creep in the cosmos as a whole. Light from the more distant galaxies takes a billion years or more to reach us. This means that what we see 10& FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION when we look at the very distant galaxies is the Universe as it was billions of years ago. All we have to decide, then, is whether what we see far, far away is es­ sentially the same as what we see in our own neighborhood. If it is, then the BB model is eliminated; if it is not, then the CC model is elimin­ ated. (Notice that I only mention the eliminated; I don't say that any­ thing is established. To eliminate the BB model does not establish the CC model for it is not an either-or proposition. Both models may be wrong. Similarly, to eliminate the CC model does not, of itself, establish the BB. Nevertheless, elimination is a great step forward; at least there is one wrong road we need explore no further.) Of course, there is a catch. It is very difficult to see things beyond the billion light-year mark. Small differences between there and here are bound to escape our notice if only because we can't possibly see the very distant galaxies in any detail. If there is a difference at all, we can only hope that it is a great, big difference that shows up very clearly even across billions of light years of space. Astronomers could scarcely believe their luck when exactly that hap­ pened.

It seems that certain stars which had appeared to be dim and undis­ tinguished members of our own Galaxy, suddenly gained notoriety at the very end of the 1950's by turning out to be sources of radio waves. Now there are lots of radio-wave sources in the Universe, but only one of them had appeared to be an ordinary star. That one exception is our own Sun and we detect its radio-wave radiation only because it is so close to us. If it were merely as far off as the nearest star, its radio-wave radiation would become indetectable. The radio waves we do detect from beyond the Solar system come from remnants of supernovae, or (if out­ side our Galaxy altogether) from unusual catastrophes such as exploding galaxies (see A GALAXY AT A TIME, F & SF, December 1964). Here, however, were radio-sources that seemed to be ordinary stars of our own Galaxy. Astronomers turned their full attention to these stars and found faint little wisps of nebulosity attached to some of them, so it began to look as though they might be stars, but not ordinary ones. Secondly, their spec­ tra showed lines that could not be identified and were not like those of any other object. They might be stars but, far from being ordinary, they began to seem most extraordinary. Then, in early 1963, it was noticed that some of the lines had the spac­ ing of certain hydrogen lines, except that those hydrogen lines ought to BB OR NOT BB, THAT IS niE QUESTION- 107 be in the ultraviolet. Could the lines have shifted red-ward into the vis­ ible region? That would be a red-shift with a vengeance. Other lines be­ came familiar, too, if that same red-shift were allowed. But if such a red­ shift were allowed and the stars were assumed to possess them because they were participating in the general expansion of the Universe, they would have to be far off indeed. To be at the place where general expan­ sion was carrying them away from us at that rate, they would have to be at perfectly enormous distances-over a billion light-years away. If that were so, the stars could not be stars at all, ordinary or extraor­ dinary, for nothing the si:.~e of a star could be seen at such distances. They were "quasi-stellar" (that is, "star-like") tadio sources. In no time, the ugly term "quasi-stellar" was shortened to the even uglier "quasar... By now, about a hundred suspected quasars have been discovered and some thirty have had their spectra studied in detail. All thirty have enormous red shifts. The quasars all seem to be beyond the billion light­ year mark and a couple have been placed at a distance of possibly eight billion light-years. (These are the farthest objects known.) For quasars to appear as bright as they do, even though at such enor­ mous distances, they must be luminous indeed. The average quasar must be some hundred times as luminous as the average galaxy.-And yet they are not a hundred times as large as the average Galaxy; if they were, they would have visible shapes instead of being mere points of light-even at their huge distances. In fact, astronomers have reason to suspect the qua­ sars to be no more than a very few light-years in diameter (compared to our own Galaxy's 100,000 light-year span.) Astronomers are driving themselves to distraction these days trying to figure out how an object can be only a few light-years across yet shine with the fury of a hundred galaxies? What is the source of the energy? How is it tapped? What starts a quasar? What ends it? This sort of worry we can put to one side for the moment. Regardless of what makes a quasar tick, let us simply concentrate on the fact that it ex­ ists and that it is radically different from anything in our own neighbor­ hood. Assuming that the quasars are really very distant-billions of light­ years away-then the light we see them by left them billions of years ago, and those quasars inhabit a Universe billions of years younger than our own.-And, on the other hand, there are no quasars near us. It follows, then, that billions of years ago there existed a Universe rela­ tively rich in quasars, whatever they are, and now we live in a Universe that has no quasars. The logical conclusion is that there is a broad and marked distinction between the past and the present; that the quasars 108 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION represent short-lived objects that could exist only in a young Universe. It is not necessary to know what the quasars are in detail to see that this eliminates the CC models which insist on a Universe that is unchanging in its broad aspects. We are then left with the BB models which may be wrong also-but which may be right.

But wait, not so fast. All this depends on the quasars really being lo­ cated at billion-plus light-year distances. What says they are? Only the red-shift?-Well, perhaps the red-shift has some other explanation and the quasars are, after all, exactly what they appear to be-dim stars of our own Galaxy. Ah, but the red-shift isn't quite all. One of the quasars (the best stud­ ied one, in fact) rejoices in the name 3C2 7 3 • and lies in the direction of a cluster of galaxies in the constellation Virgo. This cluster is surrounded by a cloud of hydrogen and the light from 3C2 7 3 shows spectral lines that would indicate that some of its radiation has been absorbed by hydro­ gen. It seems natural to suppose that the light from 3C273 has passed through the cloud surrounding the Virgo cluster on its way to us and that 3C2 73 must therefore lie beyond the cluster. Right? Well, the Virgo cluster is known to be 40,000,000 light-years away so 3C273 must be farther away than that. And 3C273 is the nearest of the known quasars. At least, it has the smallest red-shift. This seems to eliminate the chance that the quasars are really peculiar stars of our own Galaxy. Quasar 3C273 certainly isn't and if one quasar is a large, distant, super-luminous object, why should all the other ob­ jects that resemble it be small, close-by, stars. On the other hand, even if the quasars are far away, are they very far away? The Virgo cluster is 40 million light-years away, and maybe 3c- 2 7 3 is only 50 million light-years away. Maybe other quasars are only I 0 million light-years away. If the distance of the quasars is in the millions, rather than in the bil­ lions, of light-years, then they don't have to be so luminous to appear as bright as they do. They might be only as bright as I I I 00 of a galaxy in­ stead of I 00 galaxies. An object I I I 00 as bright as a galaxy would be far easier to explain and astronomers could breathe JI¥>re freely. Further­ more, quasars that close and dim would mean that quasars probably exist at greater distances, too, but then become too dim in appearance to de­ tect. In that case, it would be reasonable to suspect that quasars are quite • Because it is the 273rd object listed in the Third Cambridge Catalogue of Radio Sources. BB OR NOT BB, THAT IS THE QUESTION- 109 a common phenomenon, spread out all over the Universe with only the nearest being detectable. The Universe would then appear to show no startling differences past and present and the CC model would no longer be eliminated. But if quasars are comparatively close to us, we are still left with an over-riding problem-why the enormous red-shift? As far as I know there are three causes for a red-shift; two legitimate and one doubtful. Let's consider the doubtful one first. Every once in a while someone suggests that light loses energy as it travels and gradually increases in wavelength, thus shifting toward the red. The red-shift then becomes evidence for what is called "tired light." According to that view, the Universe need not be expanding at all. The more distant the galaxy, the more tired the light after its long travels and the redder; that's all. The catch to this theory is that no one has ever been able to give a good mechanism whereby such a tired-light red-shift can take place. If the light loses energy, that energy must be gained by something else (accord­ ing to the law of conservation of energy). What else? No one knows. It might be that we're just not smart enough to know what is picking up the energy, or it might be that the law of conservation of energy doesn't work under all conditions after all. But then, we should be able to meas­ ure the slight tiredness of light originating from the stars of our own Gal­ laxy; maybe even in the course of laboratory experiments-and we don't. In short, there is no theoretical justification or observational evidence for the tired-light red-shift, so let's eliminate it. That leaves the two legitimate explanations for a red-shift. One of these involves a gravitational field which, according to Einstein's General Theory of Relativity (and backed by observation) would reduce the en­ ergy of light leaving a body. But for the red-shift of the quasars to be caused by gravitation, so huge a gravitational field would be required, and, therefore, so huge and dense a mass, that astronomers would be deeply in trouble. It would be just as difficult to explain a huge, super-dense nearby quasar as a huge, super­ luminous distant quasar. In fact, I think most astronomers would prefer the problems of super­ distance to those of super-gravitation any day. That leaves us with the explanation of the red-shift by rapid recession, but if' so, need that recession be interpreted as part of the general expan­ sion of the Universe? Is that the only possible type of recession? Suppose the quasar were near by, can't we have it receding at a sizable fraction of the speed of light just through some explosion on a galactic llU FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION scale-a kind of "little-bang" hypothesis? Its rapid recession, misinter­ preted as part of the general expansion of the Universe, might then cause astl'onomers to take the object as a thousand times more distant than it really is. Just this month, in fact, an astronomer at Stanford reported that at least five quasars seem to be suspiciously near "peculiar galaxies"; galaxies which may have undergene some catastrophe and been left with atypical shapes. And yet-if galactic explosions produced quasars in the shape of mil­ lion-star fragments, should not some of them have been hurled in our general direction and not yet have passed us? Should not some of them be approaching us, rather than receding from us? Should not o1ze of them be approaching? An approaching quasar would show a huge shift of spectral lines in the opposite direction-toward the violet. And yet not one quasar, not one, has been found to possess a huge "violet-shift." Thirty quasars are re­ ceding rapidly; not one quasar is approaching. Galactic explosions that hurl everything in the direction opposite us and nothing toward us are too much to ask of coincidence. Another possibility is that the quasars are not ejected at super-veloci­ tie& and are not moving very rapidly at all. They might, however, be col­ lapsing at enormous rates. The surface of the object, which is radiating light toward us, would then be pictured as moving inward toward the center of the object and away from us. It would be this "recession" that would then be responsible for the red-shift. In .that case, it wouldn't mat­ ter whether the quasars were moving slowly away from us or slowly to­ ward us; the super-rapid collapse would swallow up eve-r:ything and it would always appear to be a recession and would always produce a red- shift. · Yet such collapses would involve the motion of matter toward a cen­ ter that could not be more than a light-year or so distant, at best. At the indicated speeds of recession (large fractions of the speed of light) such collapses couldn't last more than a few months. Strange- that we should catch so many bodies in the midst of such an evanescent stage of evolution. That, it seems to me, is also asking too much of coin­ cidence. So it's my own opinion that we are left with one explanation only of the red-shift-enormous distance on the part of quasars and participa­ tion in the general expansion of the Universe. And that means that the CC models of the Universe are eliminated. We are left with the BB models-the big bang-which may also be wrong, but which may be right. BB OR NOT ~B, THAT IS THE QUESTION- 111 Suppose, then, that the Universe did begin as a vast single mass of tremendously dense matter, and that that cosmic egg exploded. At the moment of explosion it must have been tremendously hot-one esti­ mate, advanced in 1965, was that the initial temperature was 10 bil­ lion degrees absolute (I 0,000,000,000° K) or 18 billion degrees Fahrenheit. If so, then if our instruments could penetrate far enough into the vast distances of space, they might be penetrating deeply enough into the past to catch a whiff of the radiation that accompanied the big bang. At the temperatures indicated for the initial fireball, that radia­ tion should be in the short-wave x-ray re-gion. However, at such d~ t~nces, the red-shift would be so extreme that the radiation would be pushed far, far toward and beyond the visible red into the microwave region of the electromagnetic spectrum. It would then gtve the kind of radiation that would be expected of an object at a temperature of mere­ ly 10° K (that is, ten degrees above absolute zero). Early this year, a general background of microwave radiation was indeed detected, radiatiou gf a type quite similar to the kind predicted, eKcept that the distribution of wavelength was equivalent to a tempera­ tu-re of only 3 ° K. This means that astronomers may have detected what might be called the birth-cry of the Universe. The unexpectedly low temperature to which the microwave radiation is equivalent leads astronomers to suspect that the initial fireball was cooler than ex­ pected and this may require some juggling which we need not go into since it would not affect the main problem-BB or not BB. Between the quasars and the birth-cry, I am now sold on the BB models. And this isn't a glad decision for me, either because I consider the CC model (continuous creation) much more satisfying from a purely emotional viewpoint.

If we accept a BB model, we are forced to ask an embarrassing ques­ tion. This huge cosmic egg that exploded to fonn our Universe-where did it come from? One way of answering that question is to shrug and say, '1t always existed." But if it always existed, why did it suddenly explode? If it em.OO for an etemity without exploding, what kicked it off all of a sudden? Let's consider-Some BB models visualize a single explosion and a perpetual recession. All the clusters of galaxies would recede from each other until the distances separating them were so vast that no one clus­ ter could be detected from any other. Vlhen that day comes, our Uni- 112 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION verse would consist of our own Galaxy, the Andromeda galaxy, and about a dozen additional small members of the Local Cluster. That's all. And by that time, the Cluster would be dying; our Sun would be a white dwarf. This is rather disheartening to envisage, even though all of us will be safely dead long before such a denouement. On the other hand, there is also a possibility that the initial explo­ sion was not strong enough to hurl the galactic clusters apart indefi­ nitely. Rather the velocity of recession is being slowly cut down by the unwearying force of mutual gravitation among the pieces of the Universe. Eventually, then, like a ball thrown upward, the exploding Universe would slow to a spent halt, and then start to fall together again, faster and faster and faster. Its matter would drive together and form the cosmic egg again, which would, of course, explode again at once and start the cycle over. This is what is called the "oscillating universe" and it has recently been suggested that the period of oscillation from one cosmic egg to the next is a little over 80,000,000,000 years. If this is so, then we don't have to wonder how a cosmic egg can exist for all eternity and then suddenly explode. It doesn't exist for all eternity at all. It exists only for a short period every eighty billion years; forming and exploding-forming and exploding-forming and explod­ ing- But the material making up the cosmic egg-the material that is now spread out into the matter and energy of the Universe as we know it­ where did that come from? Ah, now we are ready for my own cosmological theory, or we would be if space had not run out. But never fear-I planned it this way. Last month I discussed antiparticles and the conservation laws (BALANCING THE BOOKS, F & SF, July 1966) and this month I discuss the creation of the Universe. Next month I combine the two, talking about the creation of the Universe in the light of the conserva­ tion laws and it will be then that I present my own views. I don't know about you, of course, but I can hardly wait- SPECIAL ISAAC ASIMOV ISSUE

A healthy portion of F&SF's October issue will be by and about the best known writer of contemporary science fiction and science fact-Isaac Asimov. Contents will include: • THE KEY, a brand-new science fiction novelet by Isaac Asimov. New fiction by Dr. Asimov is in short supply, and you will not want to miss this suspenseful SF-detective story. • A profile of Isaac Asimov by friend and colleague L. Sprague de Camp, in which the writer offers a few observations on what makes Isaac tick. • Dr. Asimov's usual monthly column, in which he turns from a discussion of the universe (see this and next month's Science) to answer some personal questions, such as: "What got you started writing?" • A comprehensive bibliography of his writing-fiction and non-fiction-which is absolutely unavailable anywhere else in the world. • All the above, plus our usual assortment of fiction and features, including a new story by Brian Aldiss. The October issue will be on sale September 1. If you are a subscriber, you will receive your copy earlier. If you are not, the coupon below may interest you. New subscriptions will start with the Asimov issue.

···------···Mercury Press, Inc., 347 East 53 Street, New York, N.Y. 10022 8-A Send me The Magazine of FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION. I enclose 0 $5.00 for one year 0 $9.00 for two years. Name ...... •..•...••••••••••••••.•••••..•.••...... Please print Address ...••••.....•.•••.•••••••••• • •••..•..... · · . · . · ...... · City ...... State ...... • • ...... Zip # ...... Add 50¢ per year for Canada and P. A.; $1.00 for all otl1er countries PeterS. Beagle was born and brought up in the Bronx, spent a year in Europe, and then returned to the U. S., where he made a cross­ country trip by motorcycle. The latter trip was recorded in his most recent book, I SEE BY MY OUTFIT. Mr. Beagle's first novel was A FINE AND PRIVATE PLACE; and his credits include several short stories, in­ cluding this account of the wealthy Lady Neville, who gave the finest and most fashionable parties in England, but who was not, herself, entertained-until she invited the one guest that no one could possibly find boring-Death.

COME LADY DEATH

by Peter S. Beagle

THIS ALL HAPPENED IN ENG­ time, and her private vaults were land a long time ago, when that filled with great works of art that George who spoke English with a she did not know she owned. She heavy German accent and hated spent the last years of her life giv­ his sons was King. At that time ing parties and balls to which the there lived in London a lady who greatest lords of England-and had nothing to do but give parties. sometimes the King himself­ Her name was Flora, Lady Neville, came, and she was known as the and she was a widow and very old. wisest and wittiest woman in all She lived in a great house not far London. from Buckingham Palace, and she But in time her own parties be­ had so many servants that she gan to bore her, and though she in­ could not possibly remember all vited the most famous people in their names; indeed, there were the land and hired the greatest jug­ some she had never even seen. She glers and acrobats and dancers and had more food than she could eat, magicians to entertain them, still more gowns than she could ever she found her parties duller and wear; she had wine in her cellars duller. Listening to court gossip, that no one would drink in her life- which she had always loved, made Copyright«:> 1963 by The Atlantic Monthly Company. Appeared originally in The Atlantic Monthly. Reprinted by permission of Mcintosh and Otis, Inc. 114 COME LADY DEATH 115 her yawn. The most marvelous -perhaps even to perform some music, the most exciting feats of little trick if he is in a good hu­ magic put her to sleep. Watching a mor. And think of being able to beautiful young couple dance by say that we had been to a party her made her feel sad, and she with Death! All of London will hated to feel sad. envy us, all of England!" And so, one summer afternoon The idea began to please her she called her closest friends friends, but a young lord, very new around her and said to them, to London, suggested timidly, "More and more I find that my "Death is so busy. Suppose he has parties entertain everyone but me. work to do and cannot accept The secret of my long life is that your invitation?" nothing has ever been dull for me. "No one has ever refused an in­ For all my life, I have been inter­ vitation of mine," said Lady Ne­ ested in everything I saw and been ville, "not even the King. And the anxious to see more. But I cannot young lord was not invited to her stand to be bored, and I will not go party. to parties at which I expect to be bored, especially if they are my She sat down then and there own. Therefore, to my next baD I and wrote out the invitation. There shall invite the one guest I am was some dispute among her sure no one, not even myself, could friends as to how they should ad­ possibly find boring. My friends, dress Death. "'His Lordship Death• the guest of honor at my next par­ seemed to place him only on the ty shall be Death himself!" level of a viscount or a baron. A young poet thought that this •His Grace Death" met with more was a wonderful idea, but the rest acceptance, but Lady Neville said of her friends were terrified and it sounded hypocritical. And to re­ drew back from her. They did not fer to Death as •His Majesty• was want to die, they pleaded with her. to make him the equal of the King Death would come for them when of England, which even Lady Ne­ he was ready; why should she in­ ville would not dare to do. It was vite him before the appointed finally decided that all should hour, which would arrive soon speak of him as "His Eminence enough? But Lady Neville said, Death,• which pleased nearly ev­ "Precisely. If Death has planned eryone. to take any of us on the night of Captain Compson, known both my party, he will come whether he as England's most dashing cavalry is invited or not. But if none of us officer and most elegant rake, re­ are to die, then I think it would be marked next, '"That's all very well, charming to have Death among us but how is the invitation to reach 116 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION Death? Does anyone here know There was no real argument where he lives?" among the lords and ladies that "Death undoubtedly lives in Death lived in a neighborhood at London," said Lady Neville, "like least as good as their own, but everyone else of any importance, none of them seemed to know the though he probably goes to Deau­ name of Death's street, and no one ville for the summer. Actually, had ever seen Death's house. Death must live fairly near my "If there were a war," Captain own house. This is much the best Compson said, "Death would be section of London, and vou could easy to find. I have seen him, you hardly expect a person ~f Death's know, even spoken to him, but he importance to live anywhere else. has never answered me." When I stop to think of it, it's "Quite proper," said Lady Ne­ really rather strange that we have­ ville. "Death must always speak n't met before now, on the street." first. You are not a very correct Most of her friends agreed with person, Captain." But she smiled her, but the poet, whose name was at him, as all women did. David Lorimond, cried out, "No, Then an idea came to her. "My my lady, you are wrong! Death hairdresser has a sick child, I un­ lives among the poor. Death lives derstand," she said. "He was tell­ in the foulest, darkest alleys of ing me about it yesterday, sound­ this city, in some vile, rat-ridden ing most dull and hopeless. I will hovel that smells of-" He stopped send for him and give him the in­ here, partly because Lady Neville vitation, and he in his turn can had indicated her displeasure, and give it to Death when he comes to partly because he had never been take the brat. A bit unconvention­ inside such a hut or thought of al, I admit, but I see no other wondering what it smelled like. way." "Death lives among the poor," he "If he refuses?" asked a lord who went on, "and comes to visit them had just been married. every day, for he is their only "Why should he?" asked Lady friend." Neville .. Lady Neville answered him as Again it was the poet who ex­ coldly as she had spoken to the claimed amidst the general ap­ young lord. "He may be forced to proval that this was a cruel and deal with them, David, but I hard­ wicked thing to do. But he fell si­ ly think that he seeks them out as lent when Lady Neville innocent­ companions. I am certain that it is ly asked him, "Why, David?" as difficult for him to think of the So the hairdresser was sent for, poor as individuals as it is for me. and when he stood before them, Death is, after all, a nobleman." smiling nervously and twisting his CO!\IE LADY DEATH 117 bands to be in the same room with pleasant. Everyone said that it was so many great lords, Lady Neville a very familiar smell, but no one told him the errand that was re­ could give it a name. The poet said quired of him. And she was right, that it reminded him of lilacs but as she usually was, for he made no not exactly. refusal. He merely took the invita­ It was Captain Compson, how­ tion in his hand and asked to be ever, who pointed out the one excused. thing that no one else had no­ He did not return for two days, ticed. "Look at the handwriting it­ but when he did he presented him­ self," he said. "Have you ever seen self to Lady Neville without being anything more graceful? The let­ sent for and handed her a small ters seem as light as birds. I think white envelope. Saying, "How very we have wasted our time speaking nice of you, thank you very much," of Death as His This and His That. she opened it and found therein a A woman wrote this note." plain calling card with nothing on Then there was an uproar and a it except these words: Death will great babble, and the card had to be pleased to attend Lady Neville's be handed around again so that ev­ ball. eryone could exclaim, "Yes, by "Death gave you this?" she asked God!" over it. The voice of the poet the hairdresser eagerly. "What was rose out of the hubbub saying, "It he like?" But the hairdresser stood is very natural, when you come to still, looking past her, and said - think of it. After all, the French nothing, and she, not really wait­ say la mort. Lady Death. I should ing for an answer, called a dozen much prefer Death to be a wom- servants to her and told them to an." run and summon her friends. As "Death rides a great black she paced up and down the room horse," said Captain Compson waiting for them, she asked again, firmly, "and wears armor of the "What is Death like?" The hair­ same color. Death is very tall, tall­ dresser did not reply. er than anyone. It was no woman When her friends came they I saw on the battlefield, striking passed the little card excitedly right and left like any soldier. from hand to hand, until it had Perhaps the hairdresser wrote it gotten quite smudged and bent himseH, or the hairdresser's wife." from their fingers. But they all ad­ But the hairdresser· refused to mitted that, beyond its message, speak, though they gathered there was nothing particularly un­ around him and begged him to say usual about it. It was neither bot who had given him the note. At nor cold to the touch, and what lit­ first they promised him all sorts of tle odor clung to it was rather rewards, and later they threatened 118 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION to do terrible things to him. ''Did tree in a gale as the servants ham­ you write this card?" he was asklid, mered and scrubbed, polished and and "Who wrote it, then? Was it a painted, making ready for the ball. living woman? Was it really Lady Neville had always been Death? Did Death say anything to very proud of her house, but as the you? How did you know it was ball drew near she began to be Death? Is Death a woman? Are afraid that it would not be nearly you trying to make fools of us all?" grand enough for Death, who was Not a word from the hairdress­ surely accustomed to visiting in er, not one word, and finally Lady the homes of richer, mightier peo­ Neville called her servants to have ple than herself. Fearing the scom him whipped and thrown into the of Death, she worked night and street. He did not look at her as day supervising her servants' prep­ they took him away, or utter a arations. Curtains and carpets had sound. to be cleaned, goldwork and sil­ Silencing her friends wnoh a verware polished until tbey wave of her hand, Lady Neville g)eamed by themselves in the datk. said, "The ball will take place two The grand staircase that rushed weeks from tonight. Let Death down into the ballroom like a wa­ come as Death pleases, whether as terfall was washed and rubbed so man or woman or strange, sexless often that it was almost impossible creature." She smiled calmly. to walk on it without slipping. As "Death mav well be a woman," she for the ballroom itself, it took thir­ said. "I ani less certain of Death's ty-two servants working at once to form than I was, but I am also less clean it properly, not counting frightened of Death. I am too old those who were polishing the glass to be afraid of anything that can chandelier that was taller than a use a quill pen to write me a le-tter. man and the fourteen smaDer Go home now, and as you make lamps. And when they were oone your preparations for the ball see she made them do it all over, u.ot that you speak of it to your serv­ because she saw any dust or mt ants, that they may s~ad the anywhere, but because she was news all over London. Let it he sure that Death would. known that on this one night no As for herself, she chose her fin­ one in the world will die., for est gown and saw to its laundel'iug Death will be dancing at Lady personally. She called in anotller Neville's ball." hairdresser and had him put up her hair in the style of an earlier For the next two weeks Lady time, wanting to show Death that Neville's great house shook and she was a woman who enjoyed her groaned and creaked like an old age and did not find it necessary COME LADY DEATH 119 to ape the young and beautiful. All eyes fixed on the ballroom door. the day of the ball she sat before Every time they heard a carriage her mirror, not making herself up clatter up the driveway they much beyond the normal touches seemed to flinch a little and draw of rouge and eye shadow and fine closer together; every time the foot­ rice powder, but staring at the lean man announced the arrival of an­ old face she had been born with, other guest, they all sighed softly wondering how it would appear to and swayed a little on their feet Death. Her steward asked her to with relief. approve his wine selection, but "Why did they come to my par­ she sent him away and stayed at ty if they were afraid?" Lady Ne­ her mirror until it was time to ville muttered scornfully to her­ dress and go downstairs to meet self. "I am not afraid of meeting her guests. Death. I ask only that Death may Everyone arrived early. When be impressed by the magnificen~ she looked out of a window, Lady of my house and the flavor of my Neville saw that the driveway of wines. I will die sooner than any­ her home was choked with car­ one here, but I am not afraid." riages and fine horses. "It all looks Certain that Death would not like a great funeral procession," arrive until midnight, she moved she said. The footman cried the among her guests, attempting to names of her guests to the echoing calm them, not with her words, ballroom. "Captain Henry Camp­ which she knew they would not son, His Majesty's Household Cav­ hear, but with the tone of her alry! Mr. David Lorimondl Lord voice, as if they were so many and Lady Torrance!" (They were frightened horses. But little by lit­ the youngest couple there, having tle, she herself was infected by been married only three months their nervousness: whenever she before.) "Sir Roger Harbison! The sat down she stood up again im­ Contsesa della Candini!" Lady mediately, she tasted a dozen Neville permitted them all to kiss glasses of wine without finishing her hand and made them welcome. any of them, and she glanced con­ She had engaged the finest musi­ stantly at her jeweled watch, at cians she could find to play for the first wanting to hurry the mid­ dancing, but though they began to night along and end the waiting, play at her signal not one couple later scratching ,at the watch face stepped out on the Boor, nor did with her forefinger, as if she would one young lord approach her to re­ push away the night and drag the quest the honor of the first dance, sun backward into the sky. When as was proper. They milled togeth­ midnight came, she was standing er, shining and murmuring, their with the rest of them, breathing 120 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION through her mouth, shifting from creasing; it pounded against her foot to foot, listening for the sound ears in strokes, like the chiming of of carriage wheels turning in the clocks. "I wanted to give a ball gravel. so grand that those who were not invited would be shamed in front When the clock began to strike of the whole city, and this is my re­ midnight, everyone. even Lady Ne­ ward. I am ruined, and I deserve ville and the brave Caotein Camp­ it." son, gave one startled little cry and Turning to the poet Lorimond, then was silent again, listening to she said, "Dance with me, David." the tolling of the dock. The small­ She signaled to the musicians, er clocks upstairs began to chime. who at once began to play. When Lady Neville's ears hurt. She Lorimond hesitated, she said, caught sight of herself in the ball­ "Dance with me now. You will not room mirror, one gray face turned have another chance. I shall never up toward the ceiling as if she were give a party again." gasping for air, and she thought, Lorimond bowed and led her "Death will be a woman, a hide­ out onto the dance floor. The ous, filthy old crone as tall and guests parted for them, and the strong as a man. And the most ter­ laughter died down for a moment, rible thing of all will be that she but Lady Neville knew that it will have my face." All the clocks would soon begin again. "Well, let stopped striking, and Lady Neville them laugh," she thought. "I did closed her eyes. not fear Death when they were all She opened them again only trembling. Why should I fear their when she heard the whispering laughter?" But she could feel a around her take on a different stinging at the thin lids of her tone, one in which fear was fused eyes, and she closed them once with relief and a certain chagrin. more as she began to dance with For no new carriage stood in the Lorimond. driveway. Death had not come. And then, quite suddenly, all The noise grew slowly louder; the carriage horses outside the here and there people were begin­ house whinnied loudly, just once, ning to laugh. Near her, Lady as the guests had cried out at mid­ Neville heard young Lord Tor­ night. There were a great many rance say to his wife, "There, my horses, and their one salute was so darling, I told you there was noth­ loud that everyone in the room be­ ing to be afraid of. It was all a came instantly silent. They heard joke." the heavy steps of the footman as "I am ruined," Lady Neville he went to open the door, and they thought. The laughter was in- shivered as if they felt the cold COME LADY DEATH 121 breeze that drifted into the house. smiled, and Lady Neville tried to Then they heard a light voice say­ smile back, but her mouth seemed ing, "Am I late? Oh, I am so sorry. very stiff. "Welcome," she said. The horses were tired," and before "Welcome, my lady Death." the footman could re-enter to an­ A sigh rustled among the lords nounce her, a lovely young girl in and ladies as the girl took the old a white dress stepped gracefully woman's hand and curtsied to her, into the ballroom doorway and sinking and rising in one motion, stood there smiling. like a wave. "'You are Lady Ne­ She could not have been more ville," she said. "Thank you so than nineteen. Her hair was yel­ much for inviting me." Her accent low, and she wore it long. It fell was as faint and as almost familiar thickly upon her bare shoulders as her perfume. that gleamed warmly through it, "Please excuse me for being two limestone islands rising out of late," she said earnestly. "' had to a dark golden sea. Her face was come from a long way off, and my wide at the forehead and cheek­ horses are so tired." bones, and narrow at the chin, "The groom will rub them and her skin was so clear that down," Lady Neville said, •and many of the ladies there-Lady feed them if you wish." Neville among them-touched "Oh, no: the girl answered their own faces wonderingly, and quickly. "Tell him not to go near instantly drew their hands away the horses, please. They are not as though their own skin had really horses, and they are 9eiJ rasped their fingers. Her mouth fierce." was pale, where the mouths of the. She accepted a glass of wine other women were red and orange from a servant and drank it slowly, and even purple. Her eyebrows, sighing softly and contentedly. thicker and straighter than · was "What good wine," she said. •And fashionable, met over dark, calm what a beautiful house you have." eyes that were set so deep in her "Thank you," said Lady Ne­ young face and were so black, so ville. Without turning, she could uncompromisingly black, that the fee] every woman in the room en­ middle-aged wife of a middle­ vying her, sensing it as she cou1d aged lord murmured, "Touch of always sense the approach of rain. the gypsy there, I think." "I wish I lived here," Death "Or something worse," suggested said in her low, sweet voice. ., her husband's mistress. will, one day." "Be silent!" Lady Neville spoke Then, seeing Lady Neville be­ louder than she had intended, and come as still as if she had turned to the girl turned to look at her. She ice, she put her hand on the old 122 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION woman's arm and said, "Oh, I'm she is Death; if she were the ugli­ sorry, I'm so sorry. I am so cruel, est, foulest hag in all the world but I never mean to be. Please for­ they would clamor to dance with give me, Lady Neville. I am not her, because they are gentlemen used to company. and I do such and they know what is expected of stupid things. Please forgive me." them. But no gentleman wdl Her hand felt as light and warm dance with Death, no matter how on Ladv Neville's arm as the hand beautiful she is." She glanced side­ of any ·other young girl, and her ways at David Lorimond. His face eyes were so appealing that Lady was flushed, and his hands were Neville replied, "You have said clasped so tightly as he stared at nothing wrong. While you are my Death that his fingers were like guest, my house is yours." glass, but when Lady Neville "Thank you," said Death, and touched his arm he did not turn, she smiled so radiantly that the and when she hissed, "David!" he musicians began to play quite by pretended not to hear her. themselves, with no sign from Lady Then Captain Compson, gray­ Neville. She would have stopped haired and handsome in his uni­ them, but Death said, "Oh, what form, stepped out of the crowd and lovely music! Let them play, bowed gracefully before Death. please." "If I may have the honor," he said. So the musicians played a ga­ "Captain Compson," said votte, and Death, unabashed by Death, smiling. She put her arm in eyes that stared at her in greedy his. "I was hoping you would ask terror, sang softly to herself with­ me." out words, lifted her white gown This brought a frown from the slightly with both hands, and older women, who did not consiEl­ made hesitant little patting steps er it a proper thing to say, but for with her small feet. "I have not that Death cared not a rap. Cap­ danced in so long," she said wist­ tain Compson led her to the cen­ fully. ''I'm quite sure I've forgot­ ter of the floor, and there they ten how." danced. Death was curiously She was shy; she would not look graceless at first-she was too anx­ up to embarrass the young lords, ious to please her partner, and she not one of whom stepped forward seemed to have no notion of to dance with her. Lady Neville rhythm. The Captain himself felt a flood of shame and sym­ moved with the mixture of dignity pathy, emotions she thought had and humor that Lady Neville had withered in her years ago. "Is she never seen in another man, but to be humiliated at my own ball?" when he looked at her over Death's she thought angrily. "It is because shoulder, she saw something that COME LADY DEATH 123 no one else appeared to notice: past them at that moment, and that his face and eyes were immo­ they heard him say to her, "But if bile with fear, and that, though he that was truly you that I saw in offered Death his hand with easy the battle, how can you have gallantry, he flinched slightly changed so? How can you have be­ when she took it. And yet he come so lovely?" danced as well as Lady Neville Death's laughter was gay and had ever seen him. soft. "I thought that among so "Ah, that's what comes of hav­ many beautiful people it might be ing a reputation to maintain," she better to be beautiful. I was afraid thought. "Captain Compson too of frightening everyone and spoil­ must do what is exp~cted of him. I ing the party." hope someone else will dance with "They all thought she would be her soon." ugly," said Lorimond to Lady Ne­ But no one did. Little by little, ville. "1-I knew she would be other couples overcame their fear beautiful." and slipped hurriedly out on the "Then why have you not danced floor when Death was looking the with her?" Lady Neville asked other way, but nobody sought to him. "Are you also afraid?" relieve Captain Compson of his "No, oh, no," the poet answered beautiful partner. They danced ev­ quickly and passionately. "I will ery dance together. In time, some ask her to dance vecy soon. I only of the men present began to look at want to look at her a little longer." her with more appreciation than terror, but when she returned their The musicians played on and glances and smiled at them, they on. The dancing wore away the clung to their partners as if a cold night as slowly as falling water wind were threatening to blow wears down a cliff. It seemed to them away. Lady Neville that no night had One of the few who stared at ever endured longer, and yet she her frankly and with pleasure was was neither tired nor bored. She young Lord Torrance, who usually danced with every man there, ex­ danced only with his wife. Anoth­ cept with Lord Terrance, who was er was the poet Lorimond. Danc­ dancing with his wife as if they ing with Lady Neville, he re­ had just met that night, and, of marked to her, "If she is Death, course, with Captain Compson. what do these frightened fools Once he lifted his hand and think they are? If she is ugliness, touched Death's golden hair very what must they be? I hate their lightly. He was a striking man fear. It is obscene." still, a fit partner for so beautiful a Death and the Captain danced girl, but Lady Neville looked at his 124 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION ·face each time she passed him and Death, I suppose." Lady Torrance realized that he was older than looked as if she were going to cry. anyone knew. "They are jealous of Death,H Death herself seemed younger Lady Neville said to herself. "How than the youngest there. No wom­ strange. I am not jealous of her, an at the ball danced better than not in- the least. And I do not fear she now, though it was hard for her at all." She was very proud of Lady Neville to remember at what herself. point her awkwardness had given Then, as unbiddenly as they way to the liquid sweetness of her had begun to play, the musicians movements. She smiled and called stopped. They began to put away to everyone who caught her eye­ their instruments. In the sudden and she knew them all by name; shrill silence, Death pulled away she sang constantly, making up from Captain Compson and ran to words to the dance tunes; non­ look out of one of the tall windows, sense words, sounds without mean­ pushing the curtains apart with ing, and yet everyone strained to both hands. "Look!" she said, with hear her soft voice without know­ her back turned to them. "Come ing why. An~ when, during a and look. The night is almost waltz, she caught up the trailing gone." end of her gown to give her more The summer sky was still dark, freedom as she danced, she seemed and the eastern horizon was only a to Lady Neville to move like a lit­ shade lighter than the rest of the tle sailing boat over a still evening sky, but the stars had vanished and sea. the trees near the house were grad­ Lady Neville heard Lady Tor­ ually becoming distinct. Death rance arguing angrily with the pressed her face against the win­ Contessa della Candini. "I don't dow and said, so softly that the care if she is Death, she's no older other guests could barely hear her, than I am, she can't bel" "I must go now." "Nonsense," said the Contessa, "No," Lady Neville said, and who could not afford to be gener­ was not immediately aware that ous to any other woman. "She is she had spoken. "You must stay a twenty-eight, thirty, if she is an while longer. The ball was in your hour. And that dress, that bridal honor. Please stay." gown she wears-really!" Death held out both hands to "Vile," said the woman who had her, and Lady Neville came and come to the ball as Captain Camp­ took them in her own. "I've had a son's freely acknowledged mistress. wonderful time," she said gently. "Tasteless. But one should know "You cannot possibly imagine how better than to expect taste from it feels to be actually invited to COME LADY DEATH 125 such a ball as this, because you faintly of the London streets over have given them and gone to them which it had passed. They heard all your life. One is like another to birdsong and the strange, harsh you, but for me it is different. Do nickering of Death's horses. you understand me?" Lady Neville "Do you want me to stay?" she nodded silently. "I will remember asked. The question was put, not to this night forever," Death said. Lady Neville, nor to Captain "Stay," Captain Compson said. Compson, nor to any of her admir­ "Stay just a little longer." He put ers, but to the Contessa della Can­ his hand on Death's shoulder, and dini, who stood well back from she smiled and leaned her cheek them all, hugging her flowers to against it. "Dear Captain Camp­ herself and humming a little song son," she said. "l\fy first real gal­ of irritation. She did not in the lant. Aren't you tired of me yet?" least want Death to stay, but she "Never," he said. "Please stay." was afraid that all the other women "Stav," said Lorimond, and he would think her envious of Death's too se~med about to touch her. beauty, and so she said, "Yes. Of "Stay. I want to talk to you. I course I do." want to look at you. I will dance "Ah," said Death. She was al­ with you if you stay." most whispering. "And you," she "How many followers I have," said to another woman, "do you Death said in wonder. She want me to stay? Do you want me stretched one hand toward Lori­ to be one of your friends?" mond, but he drew back from her "Yes," said the woman, ''be­ and then flushed in shame. "A sol­ cause you are beautiful and a true dier and a poet. How wonderful it lady." is to be a woman. But why did you "And you," said Death to a man, not speak to me earlier, both of "and you," to a woman, "and you," you? Now it is too late. I must to another man, "do you want me to go." stay?" And they all answered, "Please stay," Lady Torrance ''Yes, Lady Death, we do." whispered. She held on to her hus­ "Do you want me, then?" she band's hand for courage. "We think cried at last to all of them. "Do you are so beautiful, both of us you want me to live among you do." and to be one of you, and not to be "Gracious Lady Torrance," the Death anymore? Do you want me girl said kindly. She turned back to visit your houses and come to to the window, touched it lightly, all your parties? Do you want me and it flew open. The cool dawn to ride horses like yours instead of air rushed into the ballroom, fresh mine, do you want me to wear the with rain but already smelling kind of dresses you wear, and say 126 FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTIOK the things you would say? Would The room was full of a deep one of you marry me, and would sigh, although no one was seen to the rest of you dance at my wed­ open his mouth. No one moved, for ding and bring gifts to my chil­ the golden-haired girl was Death dren? Is that what you want?" still, and her horses still whinnied "Yes," said Lady Neville. "Stay for her outside. No one could look here, stay with me, stay with us." at her for long, although she was Death's voice, without becoming the most beautiful girl anyone louder, had become clearer and there had ever seen. older; too old a voice, thought "There is a price to par," she Lady Neville, for such a young said. "There is always a price. girl. "Be sure," said Death. "Be Some one of you must become sure of what you want, be very Death in my place, for there must sure. Do all of you want me to forever be Death in the world. Will stay? For if one of you says to me, anyone choose? Will anyone here no, go away, then I must leave at become Death of his own free will? once and never return. Be sure. For only thus can I become a hu­ Do you all want me?" man girl." And everyone there cried with No one spoke, no one spoke at one voice, "Yes! Yes, you must stay all. But they backed slowly away with us. You are so beautiful that from her, like waves slipping back we cannot let you go." down a beach to the sea when you 'We are tired," said Captain try to catch them. The Contessa Compson. della Candini and her friends "We are blind," said Lorimond, would have crept quietly out of the adding, "Especially to poetry." door, but Death smiled at them "We are afraid," said Lord Tor­ and they stood where they were. rance quietly, and his wife took his Captain Compson opened his arm and said, "Both of us." mouth as though he were going to "We are dull and stupid," said declare himself, but he said noth­ Lady Neville, "and growing old ing. Lady Neville did not move. uselessly. Stay with us, Lady "No one," said Death. She Death." touched a flower with her finger, And then Death smiled sweetly and it seemed to crouch and flex and radiantly and took a step for­ itself like a pleased cat. "No one at ward, and it was as though she had all," she said. "Then I must choose, come down among them from a and that is just, for that is the way great height. "Very well," she said. that I became Death. I never want­ "I will stay with you. I will be ed to be Death, and it makes me so Death no more. I will be a woman." happy that you want me to be­ come one of yourselves. I have COME LADY DEATH 127 searched a long time for people like Captain Compson as he could. who would want me. Now I have "Not the Torrances," said only to choose someone to replace Death, "never Lord and Lady Tor­ me and it is done. I will choose rance, for both of them care too very carefully." much about another person to take "Oh, we were so foolish," Lady any pride in being Death." But she Neville said to herself. "We were hesitated over Lady Torrance for a so foolish." But she said nothing while, staring at her out of her aloud; she merely clasped her dark and curious eyes. "I was your hands and stared at the young girl, age when I became Death," she thinking vaguely that if she had said at last. "I wonder what it will had a daughter she woti.ld have be like to be your age again. I have been greatly pleased if she resem­ been Death for so long." Lady Tor­ bled the lady Death. rance shivered and did not speak. "The Contessa della Candin.i," And at last Death said quitely, said Death thoughtfully, and that "Lady Neville." woman gave a little squeak of ter­ "I am here," Lady Neville an­ ror because she could not draw her swered. breath for a scream. But Death "I think you are the only one," laughed and said, "No, that would said Death. "I choose you, Lady be silly." She said nothing more, Neville." but for a long time after that the Again Lady Neville heard every Contessa burne-d with humiliation guest sigh softly, and although her at not having been chosen to be back was to them all she knew that Death. they were sighing in reliefthat nei­ "Not Captain Compson," mur­ ther themselves nor anyone dear to mured Death, "because he is too themselves had been chosen. Lady kind to become Death, and be­ Torrance gave a little cry of pro­ cause it would be too cruel to him. test, but Lady Neville knew that He wants to die so badly." The ex­ she would have cried out at what­ pression on the Captain's face did ever choice Death made. She heard not change, but his hands began to herself say calmly, "I am honored. tremble. But was there no one more worthy "Not Lorimond," the girl cttn-. than I?" tinued, "because he knows so little "Not one," said Death. "There is about life, and because I like him." no one quite so weary of being hu- The poet flushed, and turned 1116n, no one who knows better how white, and then turned pink again. meaningless it is to be alive. And He made as if to kneel clumsily on there is no one else here with the one knee, but instead he pulled power to treat life" -and she himself erect and stood as much smiled sweetly and cruelly-"the 128 F:\NTASY A:-

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