Beyond the End of Time (1952)

What incredible worlds lie past 35? the horizons of man's mind? IN CANADA 39< PI 45 BEYOND THE END OF TIME Edited by FREDERHt POHL EVERY St6 rY COMPLETE t AND UNABRIDGED 1 * * A Glimpse of Tomorrow— Today ♦ . • THE EMBASSY by Martin Pearson Grafius had a crazy idea: He thought there were Martians in New York. The truth was cra zier yet. ' m THE HUNTED by John D. MacDonald There’s plenty of adventure in a big-game hunt . particularly when the quarry is you. LOVE IN THE DARK by H. L Gold He said he had blue hair and blond eyes. But it was hard to prove, because he happened to be invisible. Here are nineteen fantastic, imaginative stories —written by the top ranking authors in the field of science fiction. ' ■ . ■ . .■ ' BEYOND THE END OF TIME Edited and with an FREDERIK POHL PERMABOOKS Garden City, New York Copyright, 1952, by Doubleday if Company, Inc. ? PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES CONTENTS T he Embassy Martin Pearson IT T he H unted John D. MacDonald 21 H eredity Isaac Asimov 45 R ock Diver Harry Harrison 77 T he L ittle Black Bag C. M. Kornbluth 91 T he Lonely Planet Murray Leinster 128 Operation Peep John Wyndham 167 L et the Ants T ry James MacCreigh 187 T here W ill Come Soft Rains Ray Bradbury 202 Scanners L ive in Vain Cordwainer Smith 210 Such I nteresting N eigh bors Jack Finney 256 Bridge Crossing Dave Dryfoos 276 L etter from the Stars A. E. Van Vogt 294 Love in the Dark H. L. Gold 302 O bviously Suicide S. Fowler Wright 321 R escue Party Arthur C. Clarke 325 Stepson of Space Raymund Z. Galium 360 Death is the Penalty Judith Merril 380 Beyond Doubt Robert A. Heinlein and Elma Wentz 393 ' > INTRODUCTION he nineteen stories in this volume are what is called “science fiction.” You'll probably like the stories, for Tthey are good stories, chosen from among the very best of the seven or eight thousand published in the past few decades, in this genre. But you may encounter a little trouble after you finish them, for someone may ask you, “But what is science fiction?” Reader, you’re not the only one who has trouble with that question. Because there are nineteen stories in this book, there are nineteen answers to it right here. But there doesn’t seem to be any general answer. In other types of fiction, it’s easy. A detective story is a story about detectives; a Western story is a story about the West. But, whatever else it may or may not be, a science-fiction story is not a story about science. It is a story about people and events as they could someday, somehow, happen. It is a strong rule of good science-fiction writing that the stories should be at least theoretically possible, with no obvious mistakes of ignorance or carelessness. But that applies to all writ ing, of course. What would you think of a Western where the cowpokes carried tommy-guns? Good science fiction is at least theoretically possible. And the proof of that statement lies in the fact that, every once in a while, a science-fiction story comes true. For instance, let's make a mental excursion in a time machine. (You’ll find several, in good working order, as you turn these pages.) Take yourself back a quarter of a century, to the year of 1926, when the first magazine in America to devote itself exclusively to science fiction was published. 1926 is very remote from today, as you may remember. In 1926, you never heard of penicillin or sulfa drugs, of automatic gear-shifts or the United Nations. For enter tainment at home you wound a spring-operated phono graph or listened to the Happiness Boys on your battery radio (not even Amos ’n’ Andy had appeared yet). Your motion pictures were silent, and when you rode in a car it was likely to be a four-cylinder Model A. It sounds as remote as the Pharaohs. But, even then, a quarter of a century ago, 1952 was within your grasp. For if you had taken a quarter to your nearest newsstand you could have picked up a magazine that would have dis cussed— Television, atomic power, the sniperscope, the snooper scope, rocket planes, jet planes, the bazooka, FM radio, helicopters, home wire-recordings, automatic pilots, ra dar, guided missiles, bacteriological war—yes, and even things which today still have not come to pass, though they loom on tomorrow’s horizon: Interplanetary travel, stereoscopic TV, robots and pushbutton war. Sometimes the names were different, it is true. But the ideas were there, often in astonishing detail. (When someone got around to inventing the submarine peri scope, he found it impossible to get a patent—Jules Verne had predicted it to the last tube and prism.) It is almost always true, then, that science-fiction is a window on tomorrow. It’s a little cloudy, sometimes—but the view is there. And you can find a good deal of enjoy ment in watching it. For further details, consult the nineteen stories which follow. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS THE EMBASSY by Martin Pearson, copyright 1942 by Street & Smith Publications, Inc., for Astounding Science Fiction and reprinted by permission of Street & Smith Publications, Inc., and the author. THE HUNTED by John D. MacDonald, copyright 1949 by Fictioneers, Inc., and reprinted by permission of the author. HEREDITY by Isaac Asimov, copyright 1941 by Fic tioneers, Inc., and reprinted by permission of the author. THE LITTLE BLACK BAG by C. M. Kornbluth, copy right 1950 by Street & Smith Publications, Inc., for As tounding Science Fiction, and reprinted by permission of Street & Smith Publications, Inc., and the author. THE LONELY PLANET by Murray Leinster, copyright 1949 by Standard Magazines, Inc., and reprinted by per mission of the author and his agent, Oscar J. Friend. OPERATION PEEP by John Wyndham, copyright 1951 by Farrell Publishing Corporation for Suspense, and reprinted by permission of the author. LET THE ANTS TRY by James MacCreigh, copyright 1949 by Love Romances Publishing Co., and reprinted by permission of the author. THERE WILL COME SOFT RAINS by Ray Bradbury, copyright 1950 by Ray Bradbury and reprinted by per mission of Don Congdon. SCANNERS LIVE IN VAIN by Cordwainer Smith, copy right 1948 by Fantasy Publishing Company, Inc., re printed by permission of the copyright owners. SUCH INTERESTING NEIGHBORS by Jack Finney, copyright 1951 by Crowell-Collier Publishing Corpora tion, and reprinted by permission of the author. BRIDGE CROSSING by Dave Dryfoos, copyright 1951 by World Editions, Inc., for Galaxy Science Fiction, and reprinted by permission of the author. LETTER FROM TH E STARS by A. E. Van Vogt, copy right 1950 by Avon Publishing Corporation, and re printed by permission of the author and his agent, Forrest J Ackerman. LOVE IN THE DARK by H. L. Gold, copyright 1951 by Farrell Publishing Corporation for Suspense, and re printed by permission of the author. OBVIOUSLY SUICIDE by S. Fowler Wright, copyright 1951 by Farrell Publishing Corporation for Suspense, and reprinted by permission of the author. BEYOND DOUBT by Robert A. Heinlein and Elma Wentz, copyright 1941 by Fictioneers, Inc., and reprinted by permission of the authors. DEATH IS THE PENALTY by Judith Merril, copyright 1948 by Street & Smith Publications, Inc., for Astounding Science Fiction, and reprinted by permission of Street & Smith Publications, Inc., and the author. ROCK DIVER by Harry Harrison, copyright 1950 by Harry Harrison, and reprinted by permission of the author. STEPSON OF SPACE by Raymund Z. Gallun, copyright 1940 by Fictioneers, Inc., and reprinted by permission of the author. RESCUE PARTY by Arthur C. Clarke, copyright 1946 by Street & Smith Publications, Inc., and reprinted by permission of Street & Smith Publications, Inc., the author, and the author's agent, Scott Meredith. Grafius had a crazy idea: He thought there were Martians in New York. The truth was crazier yet THE EMBASSY By Martin Pearson CAME to New York/' said Grafius, "because I am I sure that there are Martians here." He leaned back to blow a smoke ring, followed it to its dissolution in the air-conditioning outlet with his cool, gray eyes. “Iron Man!" bawled Broderick, quick as the snap of a relay. He backed around behind his chair as the office door opened and the formidable Mr. Doolan appeared, fists cocked on the ready. "It's a whack," declared Broderick, pointing at Graf ius. "It says there are Martians in New York.” Doolan, probably the most muscular, certainly the dumbest cop ever kicked out of the police department, eyed Grafius dimly as he clamped the caller’s shoulder in a colossal vise of a hand. "Make with the feet,” he said, groping for his words. “Hit the main, but heavy.” “He means ‘get out,' ” explained Broderick. “I echo his sentiments completely.” Grafius, rising leisurely, fished in his breast pocket and chucked a sharkskin wallet onto the desk. “Look it over,” he said. "Well worth your time.” He stood impassively as Broderick drew from the wallet several large bills. ll 1 2 THE EMBASSY “Holy-holy,” whispered the inspector general as he fingered the money. “I didn't think you cared.” Briskly he seated himself again and waved away Doolan. “Naturally,” he explained, toying with Grafius' card, “I’m loath to part with all this lettuce. Your remark about our little speckled friends, the Martians, I shall ignore. This is a small, young agency, new to the art of private investigation. Martians are outside our ken at this moment of the year 1942, but if there’s anything in a more conventional line we can do for you—” “Nothing at all, thank you,” said Grafius of Spring field, He recovered his wallet and card from the desk.

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