The Fredric Brown Megapack (30 page)

Then I gently pried Johnny loose from the movie star and led him outside. It wasn’t easy. There was a blank, blissful expression on his face, and he’d even forgotten to salute me when I’d spoken to him. Hadn’t called me “sir” either. In fact, he didn’t say anything at all.

Neither did any of the rest of us, walking up the street.

There was something knocking at my mind and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. There was something wrong, something that didn’t make sense.

Ma was worried too. Finally I heard her say, “Pop, if they really want to keep this place a secret, wouldn’t they maybe—uh—”

“No, they wouldn’t,” I answered, maybe a bit snappishly. That wasn’t what I was worried about, though.

I looked down at that new and perfect road, and there was something about it I didn’t like. I diagonaled over to the curb and walked along that, looked down at the greenish clay beyond, but there wasn’t anything to see except more holes and more bugs like I’d seen back at the Bon-Ton Restaurant.

Maybe they weren’t cockroaches, though, unless the movie company had brought them. But they were near enough like cockroaches for all practical purposes—if a cockroach has a practical purpose, that is. And they still didn’t have bow ties or propellers or feathers. They were just plain cockroaches.

I stepped off the paving and tried to step on one or two of them, but they got away and popped into holes. They were plenty fast and shifty on their feet.

I got back on the road and walked with Ma. When she asked, “What were you doing?” I answered, “Nothing.”

Ellen was walking on the other side of Ma and keeping her face a studious blank. I could guess what she was thinking and I wished there was something could be done about it. The only thing I could think of was to decide to stay on Earth awhile at the end of this trip, and give her a chance to get over Johnny by meeting a lot of other young sprigs. Maybe even finding one she liked.

Johnny was walking along in a daze. He was gone all right, and he’d fallen with awful suddenness, like guys like that always do. Maybe it wasn’t love, just infatuation, but right now he didn’t know what planet he was on.

We were over the first rise now, out of sight of Sam’s tent. “Pop, did you see any movie cameras around?” Ma asked suddenly.

“Nope, but those things cost millions. They don’t leave them sitting around loose when they’re not being used.”

Ahead of us was the front of that restaurant. It looked funny as the devil from a side view, walking toward it from that direction. Nothing in sight but that, the road and green clay hills.

There weren’t any cockroaches on the street, and I realized that I’d never seen one there. It seemed as though they never got up on it or crossed it. Why would a cockroach cross the road? To get on the other side?

There was still something knocking at my mind, something that made less sense than anything else.

It got stronger and stronger and it was driving me as crazy as it was. I got to wishing I had another drink. The sun Sirius was getting down toward the horizon, but it was still plenty hot. I even began to wish I had a drink of water.

Ma looked tired too. “Let’s stop for a rest,” I said, “we’re about halfway back.”

We stopped. It was right in front of the Bon-Ton and I looked up at the sign and grinned. “Johnny, will you go in and order dinner for us?”

He saluted and replied, “Yes, sir,” and started for the door. He suddenly got red in the face and stopped. I chuckled but I didn’t rub it in by saying anything else.

Ma and Ellen sat down on the curb.

I walked through the restaurant door again and it hadn’t changed any. Smooth like glass on the other side. The same cockroach—I guess it was the same one—was still sitting or standing by the same hole.

I said, “Hello, there,” but it didn’t answer, so I tried to step on it but again it was too fast for me. I noticed something funny. It had started for the hole the second I decided to step on it, even before I had actually moved a muscle.

I went back through to the front again, and leaned against the wall. It was nice and solid to lean against. I took a cigar out of my pocket and started to light it, but I dropped the match.
Almost,
I knew what was wrong.

Something about Sam Heideman.

“Ma,” I said, “isn’t Sam Heideman—dead?”

And then, with appalling suddenness I wasn’t leaning against a wall anymore because the wall just wasn’t there and I was falling backward.

I heard Ma yell and Ellen squeal.

I picked myself up off the greenish clay. Ma and Ellen were getting up too, from sitting down hard on the ground because the curb they’d been sitting on wasn’t there any more either. Johnny was staggering a bit from having the road disappear under the soles of his feet, and dropping a few inches.

There wasn’t a sign anywhere of road or restaurant, just the rolling green hills. And—yes, the cockroaches were still there.

The fall had jolted me plenty, and I was mad. I wanted something to take out my mad on. There were only cockroaches. They hadn’t gone up into nothingness like the rest of it. I made another try at the nearest one, and missed again. This time I was positive that he’d moved before I did.

Ellen looked down at where the street ought to be, at where the restaurant front ought to be, and then back the way we’d come as though wondering if the Penny Arcade tent was still there.

“It isn’t,” I said.

Ma asked, “It isn’t what?”

“Isn’t there,” I explained.

Ma glowered at me. “What isn’t where?”

“The tent,” I said, a bit peeved. “The movie company. The whole shebang. And especially Sam Heideman. It was when I remembered about Sam Heideman—five years ago in Luna City we heard he was dead—so he wasn’t there. None of it was there. And the minute I realized that, they pulled it all out from under us.”

“‘They?’ What do you mean,
‘they,’
Pop Wherry? Who is ‘they’?”

“You mean who
are
‘they’?” I said, but the look Ma gave me made me wince.

“Let’s not talk here,” I went on. “Let’s get back to the ship as quick as we can, first. You can lead us there, Johnny, without the street?”

He nodded, forgetting to salute or “sir” me. We started off, none of us talking. I wasn’t worried about Johnny getting us back; he’d been all right until we’d hit the tent; he’d been following our course with his wrist-compass.

After we got to where the end of the street had been, it got easy because we could see our own footprints in the clay, and just had to follow them. We passed the rise where there had been the purple bush with the propeller birds, but the birds weren’t there now, nor was the purple bush.

But the
Chitterling
was still there, thank Heavens. We saw it from the last rise and it looked just as we had left it. It looked like home, and we started to walk faster.

I opened the door and stood aside for Ma and Ellen to go in first. Ma had just started in when we heard the voice. It said, “We bid you farewell.”

I said, “We bid you farewell, too. And the hell with you.”

I motioned Ma to go on into the ship. The sooner I was out of this place, the better I’d like it.

But the voice said, “Wait,” and there was something about it that made us wait. “We wish to explain to you so that you will not return.”

Nothing had been further from my mind, but I said, “Why not?”

“Your civilization is not compatible with ours. We have studied your minds to make sure. We projected images from the images we found in your minds, to study your reactions to them. Our first images, our first thought-projections, were confused. But we understood your minds by the time you reached the farthest point of your walk. We were able to project beings similar to yourselves.”

“Sam Heideman, yeah,” I said. “But how about the da—the woman? She couldn’t have been in the memory of any of us because none of us knew her.”

“She was a composite—what you would call an idealization. That, however, doesn’t matter. By studying you we learned that your civilization concerns itself with things, ours with thoughts. Neither of us has anything to offer the other. No good could come through interchange, whereas much harm might come. Our planet has no material resources that would interest your race.

I had to agree with that, looking out over that monotonous rolling clay that seemed to support only those few tumble-weedlike bushes, and not many of them. It didn’t look like it would support anything else. As for minerals, I hadn’t seen even a pebble.

“Right you are,” I called back. “Any planet that raises nothing but tumbleweeds and cockroaches can keep itself, as far as we’re concerned. So—” Then something dawned on me. “Hey, just a minute. There must be something else or who the devil am I talking to?”

“You are talking,” replied the voice, “to what you call cockroaches, which is another point of incompatibility between us. To be more precise, you are talking to a thought-projected voice, but we are projecting it. And let me assure you of one thing—that you are more repugnant physically to us than we are to you.”

I looked down then and saw them, three of them, ready to pop into holes if I made a move. Back inside the ship, I said, “Johnny, blast off. Destination, Earth.”

He saluted and said, “Yes, sir,” and went into the pilot’s compartment and shut the door. He didn’t come out until we were on an automatic course, with Sirius dwindling behind us.

Ellen had gone to her room. Ma and I were playing cribbage.

“May I go off duty, sir?” Johnny asked, and walked stiffly to his room when I answered, “Sure.”

After a while, Ma and I turned in. Awhile after that we heard noises. I got up to investigate, and investigated.

I came back grinning. “Everything’s okay, Ma,” I said. “It’s Johnny Lane and he’s as drunk as a hoot owl!” And I slapped Ma playfully on the fanny.

“Ouch, you old fool,” she sniffed. “I’m sore there from the curb disappearing from under me. And what’s wonderful about Johnny getting drunk?
You
aren’t, are you?”

“No,” I admitted, regretfully perhaps. “But, Ma, he told me to go to blazes. And without saluting. Me, the owner of the ship.”

Ma just looked at me. Sometimes women are smart, but sometimes they’re pretty dumb.

“Listen, he isn’t going to keep on getting drunk,” I said. “This is an occasion. Can’t you see what happened to his pride and dignity?”

“You mean because he—”

“Because he fell in love with the thought-projection of a cockroach,” I pointed out. “Or anyway he thought he did. He has to get drunk once to forget that, and from now on, after he sobers up, he’s going to be human. I’ll bet on it, any odds. And I’ll bet too that once he’s human, he’s going to
see
Ellen and realize how pretty she is. I’ll bet he’s head-over-heels before we get back to Earth. I’ll get a bottle and we’ll drink a toast on it. To Nothing Sirius!”

And for once I was right. Johnny and Ellen were engaged before we got near enough to Earth to start decelerating.

PATTERN

Miss Macy sniffed. “Why is everyone worrying so? They’re not
doing
anything to us, are they?”

In the cities, elsewhere, there was blind panic. But not in Miss Macy’s garden. She looked up calmly at the monstrous mile-high figures of the invaders.

A week ago, they’d landed, in a spaceship a hundred miles long that had settled down gently in the Arizona desert. Almost a thousand of them had come out of that spaceship and were now walking around.

But, as Miss Macy pointed out, they hadn’t hurt anything or anybody. They weren’t quite
substantial
enough to affect people. When one stepped on you or stepped on a house you were in, there was sudden darkness and until he moved his foot and walked on you couldn’t see; that was all.

They had paid no attention to human beings and all attempts to communicate with them had failed, as had all attacks on them by the army and the air force. Shells fired at them exploded right inside them and didn’t hurt them. Not even the H-bomb dropped on one of them while he was crossing a desert area had bothered him in the slightest.

They had paid no attention to us at all.

“And that,” said Miss Macy to her sister who was also Miss Macy since neither of them was married, “is proof that they don’t mean us any harm, isn’t it?”

“I hope so, Amanda,” said Miss Macy’s sister. “But look what they’re doing now.”

It was a clear day, or it had been one. The sky had been bright blue and the almost humanoid heads and shoulders of the giants, a mile up there, had been quite clearly visible. But now it was getting misty, Miss Macy saw as she followed her sister’s gaze upward. Each of the two big figures in sight had a tanklike object in his hands and from these objects clouds of vaporous matter were emerging, settling slowly toward Earth.

Miss Macy sniffed again. “Making clouds. Maybe that’s how they have fun.
Clouds
can’t hurt us. Why do people worry so?”

She went back to her work.

“Is that a liquid fertilizer you’re spraying, Amanda?” her sister asked. “No,” said Miss Macy. “It’s insecticide.”

THE YEHUDI PRINCIPLE

I am going crazy.

Charlie Swann is going crazy, too. Maybe more than I am, because it was his dingbat. I mean, he made it and he thought he knew what it was and how it worked.

You see, Charlie was just kidding me when he told me it worked on the Yehudi principle. Or he thought he was. “The Yehudi principle?” I said.

“The Yehudi principle,” he repeated. “The principle of the little man who wasn’t there. He does it.”

“Does what?” I wanted to know.

The dingbat, I might interrupt myself to explain, was a headband. It fitted neatly around Charlie’s noggin and there was a round black box not much bigger than a pillbox over his forehead. Also there was a round flat copper disk on each side of the band that fitted over each of Charlie’s temples, and a strand of wire that ran down behind his ear into the breast pocket of his coat, where there was a little dry cell battery.

It didn’t look as if it would do anything, except maybe either cure a headache or make it worse. But from the excited look on Charlie’s face, I didn’t think it was anything as commonplace as that.

“Does what?” I wanted to know.

“Whatever you want,” said Charlie. “Within reason, of course. Not like moving a building or bringing you a locomotive. But any little thing you want done, he does it.”

“Who does?”

“Yehudi.”

I closed my eyes and counted to five, by ones. I
wasn’t
going to ask, “
Who
’s
Yehudi?”