A Toothache on Zenob by Boyd Ellenby. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. A Toothache on Zenob by Boyd Ellenby. Strange to think that from 20 odd light years away, otherwise see our own sun blazing in the middle of a familiar constellation. Pen Kahn sat in the signal dome, idly waiting while his friend adjusted the dials of the receiver. The recording tape spilled over the table in loops of aluminium. Doesn't this job get dull, he inquired. Nortonal turned the fifth dial a few degrees and glanced upwards. Depends on your interest. It's true, this is just routine space sweep, but noise from space is amazingly variegated. Just one more sec to scan tonight and I'll be through. What's the matter with you, Pen?  Pen tried to grin and fingered the slight swelling on his cheek. My face will never be my fortune, I guess. I don't know what's the matter, just ache. Even at his best, Pen's family loved to remind him he was an ugly young man and he had none of the rounded placidity of features which was the ideal of his race.  It helped very little that he happened to be extremely intelligent. Pen covered the aching place with his hand and tried to concentrate on the emerging spills of tape. As a matter of fact, he had been having severe periodic tooth aches for six months now, but had never spoken of it. Suddenly he bent forward. Hold it! Just a minute. Let me see that. Nortonall raised one eyebrow. Don't let it get you, lad. Listening to space is apt to make you jumpy. Your friends over at Atomics wouldn't like that. More than once I thought I was finding some sort of sense in all this chatter, but it never pans out. It's just noise. There may be other inhabited planets besides Zenob, just as Bedagga claims. But if so, they aren't talking. Stop! Watch the tape, said Pen. Nortonall shrugged his shoulders, but he picked up the tape and watched as it trickled through his fingers. The machine was recording short bursts of energy, separated by distinct pauses. Two and two, remarked Pen, are four. Three and three are six. Four? I know! I've been to kindergarten two. Four and four are eight.  He reached to shift the scanner, but Pen grabbed his hand. Can't you see? Somebody's trying to show us that they know how to add someone out in space. Keep watching. I wonder if they use duodecimal system or what? Where is it coming from? Nortonall dropped his skeptical pose and watched the emerging tape in silence. The growing table of symbols built all the simple additions up to ten plus ten by the laborious accumulation of dots. Then it began again systematically. One and one are two, two and two. Pen turned his wondering eyes on his friend. Is this trick? Joke you rigged up for my benefit? Nortonall shook his head and his voice was hardly a whisper. No, that stuff is really coming through space, through phase space. Twice more, the table of additions appeared. Then after a brief pause came simple multiplications. Hour after hour the signals continued endlessly repeated. And shortly after midnight the two could recognize the periodic table of chemical elements with atomic weights and numbers of isotopes. If those numbers, which follow atomic weights or abundances, said Pen, composition of their planet is not quite same as ours. Look how rare two, three, five is. Where do you suppose this is coming from? You guess, said Nortonall. He waved his arm towards the transparent dome through which the stars shone and grinned. From little data I have so far signals might be coming from somewhere in Weaver, perhaps from neighborhood of Topaz, but it's too early to be sure of anything. Suddenly a marked change occurred in the pattern of the signals. The clear symmetry of mathematics ended and was replaced by a formless jumble, but a jumble whose repetition suggested that it, too, contained a pattern if it could once be glimpsed. Meters and meters of tape piled up and the young men stared at it in frustration. Nortonall stood up in sudden decision. Bidaga is right, there must be intelligent life in another part of galaxy. We need help, Pen, we can't decipher this stuff, and yet it may be key to basic vocabulary. We need mathematicians, linguists, semanticists. I'll put out a call to director. He lifted a finger to activate the visphone on his wristband, but before touching it he glanced at his friend in some concern. But you don't look well. Perhaps you ought to go home and get some sleep. Pen shook his head. No, pain will probably be gone by morning and that time like this sleep would only be gift from evil ones. I'm going to get Bidaga. He'll be more used to us than a dozen semanticists. Call him on visphone. You know he can't wear one. He's at cave tonight, holding ceremony. I'll go after him. All right, Pen, but remember, government will probably disapprove of this business. Whatever you do, don't tell your father. Pen grounded his copter at the outskirts of the city, then turned his back to the glowing lights and walked north across the darkened fields towards the cave. The early morning sky blazed with stars, and ahead of him, low on the northern horizon, gleamed the sprawling constellation of Weaver. He had never been able to force his imagination to see many of the constellations in their completeness, and in the patterns of stars which his pastoral ancestors had conceived as weaver, sower, horned tooth. He could see only random clusters of suns. He watched it now as he walked over the rutted earth, and suddenly the pattern took shape so that he could discern the old lady's shuttle and at its tip that brilliant yellow star topaz, which might that very moment be sending its signals through the galaxy. How many planets revolved around topaz? He stopped, for the field ended in a sharp bluff which descended to a narrow valley. Across the valley's floor was the entrance to the cave. He could see the bobbing lights of candles down there, and hear a muffled chant of many voices. He hoped ceremony would end soon so that he could consult his friend. Once again he felt impatient that Bedaga should have to be met in person just because as a healer he could not wear a visphone into cave. Bedaga was really more progressive than many scientists, but the culture of Zenob still had a strongly anti-materialistic, one might say, anti-scientific tinge, and no machine of any kind could ever be brought into any of sacred places. Cave had been the chief place for ceremonies of those living in Larsen area for so many thousands of years that even the historians did not know of a time when it was not in use. It was so old, some heretics said that it had outlived its usefulness and was not even a safe place to be in. The stars were fading and the northern sky was pailing when the chanting stopped in cave below. People filed out silently, extinguishing their candles as they reached the opening, and last of all came the healer, Bedaga, pen called softly, up here. The tall figure paused, then ran lightly up the steps out in the sloping hill. Has something happened? Hurry, my copter is waiting back there, and I'll take you to the signal dome. Then I'll have to go home. If I'm not there for breakfast, my father will begin another lecture on the depravity of youth. Bedaga's eyes twinkled. Premier Kahn is pretty conscious of his responsibility to nation, pen, but perhaps 18 years ought to be more respectful of 50. I am nearly the latter myself, you know, but what has happened? Pen raised his arm and pointed towards Weaver. We're getting signals. We think they may come from some planet of topaz. Bedaga clasped his strong hands over his breast. His black hair, curling over a high olive forehead, was held in place by the narrow green band of his calling.  His grey eyes were exalted as he stared at the fading yellow star. At last, he said, the bluish sun of Zenob had risen by the time Pen got home. He sat through the family breakfast with his parents and sister, thankful that his night's absence had apparently not been noticed. Pen's father, old Premier Kahn, represented the old man like to think the ideal of Zenobian maturity. The placidity of his mind was reflected in the soft roundness of his unlined face and his full lips curved at the corners in perpetual contentment. Like most of his countrymen, he had never felt any conflict between his own impulses and the customs of society and never in his life had he needed the ministrations of a healer. In his usual benevolent mood this morning, Premier Kahn entertained his family with his meditations on his favourite theme, the glories of Zenob's history and the perfection of her knowledge. They listened to his remarks in patient silence as he sipped at the last of his cup of fragrant acali. He tried to make a kindly remark to his son, and what progress is your institute making towards practical atomic power, Pen? Foundations of this work were laid down more than 200 years ago and government would be glad to have demonstration at any time. We're a little uncertain, sir, when that will be. We want to be sure before our first trial that we have checked against even vaguest possibility of starting widespread chain reaction. The Premier frown set down his cup and touched his napkin to his lips. But how could this occur? It is not at all likely, but if, for example, as has been suggested, crust of our planet should contain large quantities of some heavy element with properties we don't know about, something related to 235 or 238 for instance, and easily fissionable, our very first trial might prove disastrous. Nonsense, nonsense, said the Premier. Complete chemistry of our planet was worked out and tabulated more than 300 years ago. There were great chemists in those days, and since then no further research has ever been necessary. There could not possibly be any elements which we don't know about. It is not seemly for you young men to be questioning work of great geniuses of the past. Pen's sister Soma had been silent as befitted a woman. Now she said, Father, I have been told that long ago Sakhar Talat, after life spent in philosophical research, gave warning to government. Trouble with you, my dear, and the Premier patted his pretty daughter's arm, is that you don't realise women usually lack spiritual insight necessary to interpret veiled words of ancients. Of course, I admit our healers can foresee future, but they don't always describe it in an unambiguous language. Actually, Sakhar issued two warnings, but they obviously did not mean what they seem to at first glance. First was that we are in danger because we only think we have mastered all basic knowledge. Second was that there are undoubtedly other worlds in the universe, and one of them will one day affect destiny of Zenob. Taken at face value, these are obviously both false. As to the first, no new knowledge has been added to our sciences for generations. In spite of the fact that, into ages ago, showed us how to use faculty of precognition. As to second, it is clearly foolish to think Sakhar meant other worlds in a physical sense. He must have meant spiritual worlds. He turned again to pen, who had risen from the table and was waiting politely. And when can we have that demonstration? Within a month, I'll speak to the director today, sir. The throbbing in his cheek was becoming evident again, and he touched his face gently. What's the matter, Pen? said his mother. Nothing. My face hurts, little. Ignore it, his father ordered. I won't have any maladjustment in Lord Khan's family. He picked up the gold-headed cane, which was his badge of office, and strode out of the room.  Softly, he ran up the ramp to the second floor into his bathroom to the medicine chest. In Pen's family, a transient illness was an embarrassment. A persistent illness was a disgrace. It had always been his mother's pride, and his father's boast that in the Khan household, the contents of the medicine shelves were never needed, and that the doors of the cupboard remained closed from one year to the next. It was with a sense of guilt, then, that Pen pressed a spot on the green-tiled wall to slide back the cupboard doors and picked up an ivory box from which he took a bolus of pain-killing plant extract. He swallowed the huge pill, then took another, a double dose, this time for he knew the pain would never yield to anything less. He stood shivering for a few moments, waiting for the drug to take effect. He looked up and realized that his sister was standing at the open door, watching him sympathetically. Pen, she said, You're ill. Won't you talk it over with me? I would talk it over with the evil ones if I thought it would help this pain. It grows worse and worse. Have you told father yet? He could arrange for healer. No, he shouted. I don't want him to know. He'd only begin lecture on his shame, his grey hairs, how all pain comes from unruly mind. Why don't I put myself in tune with group? Old familiar story, but I know this is something different. But Pen, you know yourself surely that since you've got into Atomics Institute, you have changed. You aren't perfectly adjusted anymore. You worry about things. He touched his swollen face and smiled at her placatingly. Don't worry, Soma, or you'll get lines in your forehead and father would never bear the shame of having two maladjusted children in the family. I'm stronger than you think. Last year when I passed fire test, I stood flames longer than any of boys in my class, longer even than Nortenal. But this is different. Trouble with Zenob is that we don't have any biology or any real medicine. Pen, how can you say such things? Your best friend is healer. You know, I haven't said anything against healers, but only ailments they can cure are those that originate in mind and they can't really do anything for purely physical ailments. Bedaga has admitted as much to me. He wants to change all that. He thinks time is ripe. But Pen, our healers can foresee future. You know that Anter Penhab proved that five centuries ago. Anter was the worst disaster that ever befell Zenob, Pen shouted. He put out his hand to restrain his sister who was attempting to struggle to her feet in horror. Oh Soma, I guess I'm just heretic, but listen to me. Our Anter Penhab proved conclusively that such phenomena as telepathy and precognition are real. And what was the result? Members of Colt used it as argument and launched campaign to stop scientific research completely. They nearly succeeded too. Medical research has never been resumed on any large scale and chemistry and physics only last century. SomaSide. You shouldn't get all excited, Pen. Turn into living room and stretch out on couch. I rubbed forehead. You may be ugly old atavism, but you're only brother I have and I want to keep you. In the big living room, Soma drew the curtains from the looseite walls that looked over the white city. The early sunlight came in, warm and faintly blue, soothing. She put foam pillows under his aching head and drew up a footstool beside him. She stroked his forehead and he was beginning to doze lightly when a muted chime roused him. He activated his wrist dial to find Nortonall's grave face looking at him. Pen sat up. What have you found? Something. Can you come here now? Pen struggled to his feet. Just give me a minute to clear my head. Don't go, Pen, Soma cried. You're not well. It's nearly breakfast time too. Don't go. What will I tell father? But the door had closed and from the window, Soma watched Pen's copter rise above the rooftops and glide out of sight. In the signal dome, Pen found the specialist still at work, pale and tense from lack of sleep. Some still conferred over pages of mathematical equations. Some watched the tape, which monotonously continued to record the symbols. But Dagger strode forward to meet him. We finally found Keat, a vocabulary pen, and others are at work now on the main body of message. Signals are undoubtedly coming from one of planets of sun we call Topaz. It has system of nine planets and waves are being sent from third. All my life I've believed that there were other planet systems like ours and other intelligences in the galaxy. But now that one of them is signaling us, I can hardly make myself believe it. From the top gallery, high in the dome, Norton will run down the spiral ramp. We're getting it now, Bedagger. Planet of Topaz is signaling this entire sector of the galaxy, hoping to find planets with intelligent life on them. They wish to communicate, to exchange information, and they offer to visit any planet which would welcome them. Then they can travel through space. Yes, they say they are only 27 light years away. Bedagger's shoulders drooped in disappointment. But if these signals have been 27 years on way, it would take us another 27 years to answer them. I shall never live to see their visit. But you don't understand, Bedagger, I forgot this isn't your field. These waves are coming through phase space, and they go much faster than speed of light. They reach us almost instantaneously. Penn began to laugh. He felt light-headed and for some reason amused. I suppose you all remember my father Jalu's lecture, in which he demonstrated mathematically that life or intelligence on any planet except Xenob was impossible. He pointed out that unique properties of carbon compounds, which we are composed, could never be duplicated on another planet. And how remarkable circumstances of our having ice-eye, only form of solid water that can float, had allowed life to evolve on Xenob alone. Poor father, this will be hard on him. Of course, you are not going to send answer. Bedagger seemed to be in a meditation, but now he spoke in a commanding tone. Of course we must reply. Nortinal gasped and stepped away. But we haven't right. That would be heresy. I claim right. Centuries ago, healers dreamed of this day and as a healer, I dare to claim right. We reply to these signals and tell people of Topaz planet that intelligent men do exist on our own world. Nortinal's eyes had become dreamy and speculative. I am not certain that we could reply even if we dared, he said. He looked uncertainly at the other microwave technicians to see fear looking from their faces too. At last one spoke. I think we could change over to transmission through the phase space in about half an hour. If we had orders, he hastily turned away afraid of his own thoughts. Responsibility is mine, said Bedagger. I speak with authority of my calling. We will send same set of mathematical tables we have received and then periodic tables of elements as they exist here. Pen felt confused, battered with warring emotions and too tired to think or speak. But Nortinal moved with abrupt decision. If you order it, Bedagger, we will try. He turned to his technicians. We'll start work immediately. Nearly an hour passed before the wave modulator was reported ready. In the highest level of the dome they watched nervously as Nortinal turned up the power and worried the dials. All set, he said. There was no reply. In a dead silence, he touched the button and started an impulse towards the star topaz. The door behind them opened with a crash and Premier Kahn strode in.  Despicable traitors, he shouted. Turn off that instrument! White faced, one of the technicians obeyed and the power indicators dropped. Can it be true what has come to my ears? What I see now with my own eyes that you would dare to reply to messages that come from foreign planet? Bedagga's commanding figure grew even taller. Premier, I speak now not as a Bedagga man but as Bedagga healer and I must give you my warning. Zenob cannot escape contacts with other worlds. In my opinion, Zenob has reached fateful turning point in its history. We must face fact that our knowledge of physical science is not adequate. Our fossil fuels are nearly gone and we must have atomic power but frankly our physicists don't know enough to design safe atomic reactors and at rate science progresses on Zenob they won't know enough for centuries or this could be remedied by exchange of information with this other world. As he faced Bedagga the Premier trembled with rage his usual placid face was contorted. Bedagga you could be unfrocked for that Zenob would be better off if healers would confine their opinions and activities to healing and leave politics to those whose business it is. Government will not base its decisions based upon visions of dreamers who have dwelt too long in cave. Penn closed his eyes as a wave of agony broke over him. The voices receded. Dimly he was aware that he was falling pain and shouting together faded away into darkness. On earth at the listening post on Long Island Joe Weber sat before his recorder intent on the noise from space. The chief anthropologist studied the star map on the wall as he asked his question. Have you got anything at all Joe? The technician shook his head. Nothing but noise. I've only been beaming them for four days and our schedule course were a week on each sector. I'll keep on this plan but I'm positive that the star systems in the Lyra sector are not inhabited in any sense we would recognise or if there is life there it hasn't developed enough of a science for them to know they're being signalled. The anthropologist sighed. It may be a hopeless task to locate systems similar to ours. I had hoped to find some in my day. Don't be discouraged professor. I'll start hitting sickness for you and maybe we can find something there. Yesterday for a minute I thought I had something in Lyra. In the middle of the random noise suddenly I came across what looked like dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot dot It was clear as crystal and much louder than the noise of the usual nonsense. Pure chance at work of course but for a minute my hair stood on end. Well it's all in the day's work I'll just keep sending our stuff. Of course the anthropologist there might be intelligent people in the sector you're working right now but they might be like the Zuni. The Zuni asked Weber. The Zuni are a large village of American Indians who live in New Mexico right next to what used to be a big Indian reservation for the Navajos although they still keep their own language and religion are an outward looking culture interested in the rest of the world but the Zuni are not. For them the boundaries of the world are the walls of the Zuni village. They wouldn't bother to listen to a message from outer space, much less reply. Can't be very bright said Joe. Some of them have made the highest scores on the Tromovich intelligence test that have ever been recorded. It's not a matter of intelligence but attitude of the culture. Some of the worlds of space have outward looking cultures. He turned back to his transmitter. Penn found himself lying on a couch. He tried to get up and felt his father's hands at his shoulders restraining him. Don't move Penn said his mother.  She lifted his head and let him sip a cup of hot Akali. After a time his father addressed him with usual kindness. We cannot delay any longer Penn. We must undergo ceremony. What is proper thing to do for you? I don't know but Bedaga believes he can help you. This crisis in our world is making us all ill and it is no wonder that you, being young, should suffer more acutely than the rest of us. Penn tried to laugh. Would you trust me to Bedaga? Yes I would. Although his views on world affairs are perverse and dangerous. He is a good healer and very ill Lord Kahn. If I am able to help him would you be willing to consider possibility at least that wisdom of healer is not confined to human body alone?   I cannot tell Bedaga. I am tired and confused. I no longer seem to be sure what is true and what is right. Penn opened his eyes to speak to Bedaga. Do you think you can cure me by ceremony alone? I have cured people who are much more ill than you are but your case is serious because you have delayed so long. It may be that we should not rely on ritual alone and that it would be wiser to use knife. Lord Kahn, gasp in horror. Never have you lost faith in your own art. Of course none of us likes to use knife since very few minds are skilled enough to control infection likely to follow. We shall hold ceremony just as our tradition counsellors tonight. The muted chime of the Vizphone interrupted them. The Premier touched his wrist and the gaunt face of Nortinal appeared in the dial. Signals have entered new stage sir. Messages coming at present state that Topaz Planet wishes to visit any planet inhabited by intelligent race. They say they have phase space drive for spaceships but in all their searching have not found even one inhabited world. It is hard to know that they are not alone in the universe. The Premier's face worked. I cannot say what is right. Later I will decide after ceremony. Are you ready Pen?  All right he whispered sooner better. Deep in the valley north of the city Cave yawned. For thousands of years its narrow mouth had been opened to the healers and the participants in the ceremonial ritual. The cave was unknown. Some said as old as the planet itself great rocks formed the inner walls which ascended to a low domed ceiling and occasionally a handful of gravel trickled down the walls to the bottom where a small stream still worked at hollowing out the stone. At the back of the cave was the hearth and across the floor were ancient stone benches waiting for the friends and family of the patient. For by tradition only patient and healer approached the hearth itself. The others whose wills and hearts were to unite for one brief night to heal the sickness sat apart in a broad circle where they could see the ceremony and the chant of their voices could float back to the ears of the sufferer. As the sun set Pen was carried into cave on a litter. His father and mother, his sister his fathers collaborators in the government and representatives of the whole community filed down the valley into the entrance where Bedagas stood and each person clad for this occasion with a lot of animal fur as he approached the opening extended his hands to show that he had removed his wristband and lifted his arms to show that no material product of modern technology had been taken inside to profane cave. They all respected the ancient proverb what immortals want new they make new. Each one lit his candle at Bedagas flame and silently took his place in the circle. Pen had not been inside cave since his early childhood but it seemed a familiar place since its description formed part of many of Xenob's myths and was part of her history. The age old figures scratched on the wall and filled in with coloured earths had been made by his remote ancestors at the time when their only weapons were bows and arrows pictured there and the stone tip spears with which they hunted their game. In the flickering light of the fire he could recognise the live toda and the great tusked calamat animals which had been extinct for many ages how vividly old ones had portrayed these animals and the ritual of their hunts. The wood fire which Bedagas had kindled with a primitive wooden drill burned on the half and above his head through a rift in the ceiling Pen could see a narrow band of sky and a sprinkling of stars.  He gave Pen a warm potion from an earthenware cup which made him feel sleepy. Bedagas began to chant his bass voice reverberating from wall to wall each syllable a sonorous musical note which was answered at intervals by the watching group of well-wishers. A wooden bowl filled with coarsely ground grain was passed from one person to another and each one placed a few grains on his tongue, some on his forehead and through a token pinch of the flower over his left shoulder. An hour passed too the stars above shifted their position and still Bedagas chanted never hesitating never stumbling over the archaic words midnight passed and the stars grew pale through the roaring in his ears Pen heard the healer kneel on the rock floor beside him then he felt Bedagas strong fingers on his shoulder How is it with you my son? Pen groaned unable to speak the pain was not alleviated it was greater than ever the souls of Bedagas sandals scraped as he stood up again Bring knife he called in his roaring darkness Pen stirred vaguely he sensed the murmuring of the watchers then someone else came near and Bedagas voice rose again Immortals, bless knife fingers pried open his jaw probed at the misshapen gum sending fiery flashes of agony into his brain then a hard edge of pain struck cutting releasing a flood of warm wetness in his mouth yet all seemed to be happening far away he sensed Bedagas bending near once more boy is going fast infection is deep another voice move him to experimental hospital he would not live to get there a pause go bring forceps and bone knives hurry along roaring darkness then new movement around where he lay a sudden voice that he dimly recognized as his father's stop what is that tool in your hand? a new device for extracting teeth came Bedagas calm resonant voice with which we may save your son's life shocked murmurs all over the hall topped by his father's shout of outrage in cave in hands of healer Bedagas replied what immortals want new they make new here and now in my hands they end our years of darkness let immortals confound me if I lie the multitude in the cave roared their approval and premier Khan hesitated he appeared to be struggling within himself as the echoes died away a pebble rolled from a ledge dislodged by the sound and fell at Bedagas feet a second pebble fell and a boulder which had rested above the hearth for untold centuries shifted its position with a shout Bedagas flung himself over pen's body as the boulder trembled and fell crushing the life from the bodies of both men dust rose and a rumble began near the ceiling run! cried premier Khan run for your lives as the others ran from the cave Lord Khan rushed to the huge rock laying upon his son but he had no hope neither pen nor Bedagas could ever move again a trickle of sand patted to the floor and with the last backward glance Lord Khan ran from the cave boulders rained from the ceiling the premier had just reached the outside when a huge slab of rock crashed into the floor against the entrance on the slope nearby, pen's mother and sister wept silently Lord Khan stood motionless a long while at last he spoke cave, his sealed, he said let it never be opened again immortals are willed that my son should rest here forever with empires Bedagas turning his face to the sky he shook his fist at the bright spark of topaz in the paling north so much for new things and foreign stars he said between his teeth this day's evil is enough they extinguished their candles and went slowly up the valley, path towards the city 28 years later on earth an astronomer comparing recent plates taken of the constellation Lyra noticed that Vega, its brightest star had increased in brightness by a slight amount the event was not especially remarkable there are on average 25 Novas reported every year in our galaxy but Vega was one of the stars to be visited during the next decade by one of the survey ships now in mid voyage there's one place they won't have to stop now he said to a colleague showing him the plates I don't suppose it matters what's one star more or less when they all turn out to be the same no planets or barren ones no stopping place for man I suppose your right said the astronomer staring glumly at the waste of immensity of the photograph in front of him End of Toothake on Zenob Read LNB Recording by Andrew Gibson, Sujo, JellyPie .co.uk forward slash audio books Make Me an Offer by Kahn Bloomberg This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or a volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Read by Dale Grossman Fellow city managers Only you can help me Progress has made go fight city hall a battle cry Make Me an Offer by Kahn Bloomberg To all city managers from Ross Rowe New York City Manager Subject Gelatin Molds Well boys this is going to be a rather informal communication because I think there's a serious lesson for you in a situation we had here recently I might as well be the first to tell you about it you'll hear about it soon enough anyway Frankly I'm hoping you'll have the heart to lend a brother city manager a hand As you boys know I was re-elected last April to my post as city manager for another four years and I felt pretty good about it so good that I was looking around for something to do which would sort of let the voters of old New York know how I felt about them Most of you have met my political assistant Charlie Tite or rather my ex-political assistant Charlie was looking around too and he came up with the idea of covering over Central Park We have never covered over Central Park with a permaplast roof of the city because it is a fairly large area and there wasn't any public demand for it so naturally it rains and snows there and we spend a lot of dough keeping the grass cut and what have you It's a popular spot with a lot of folks Charlie figured and I must admit that I agreed with him that covering over Central Park was quite an idea and the conditions would let the grass grow only so much and the temperature would remain constant no rain or snow except from 1 a.m. to 3 a.m. when we would put in a little artificial precipitation to keep the greenery going plenty of nice air-conditioned air eternal spring really up to date we put it through the computer down at the Civic Machine and it cost only about 2,500 million it looked real good you see we recently got in addition to the Civic Machine and the manufacturer gave us a deal on a new model projector for the whole city it makes constant forecast on practically everything we need from moment to moment it doesn't wait for a tech to run the data through it because it's directly connected with supply this projector is so good that we have been able to cut down on expenses about 2,500 million in only 2 years I figured this would easily pay for the permaplast roof over good old Central Park to make a long story short I went before the people on TV and told the whole story Charlie had the TV techs mock up a scene of what it would look like and we had models posed in family scenes and the like should have gone over like a shot and it would have except for this screwball Hattie Dakin it wasn't an hour after I made my broadcast that my secretary announced this Miss Hattie Dakin she proved to be a young matron type with pretty good legs and a chip on her shoulder she was against roofing Central Park well you boys know how it goes always some crank who doesn't like things changed and after they have blown off steam they quiet down and you can go ahead and do the work so I let this Hattie Dakin talk on and on until my ears were limp from listening she said she was against roofing Central Park because it would be just like every other place in the city weatherproof, air conditioned and humidity controlled she figured that the children should have some place where they could feel the wind on their faces and falling of rain and snow and the smell of air as it is in nature she said that was the only way most of our children could ever ever find the ties with the past that were sacred she quoted poetry about the wind and the rain in your hair and on and on and on finally I let her talk off her head of steam and she got calmed down so that I could tell her thank you ma'am for this expression of your opinion you can rest assure that I will do everything within my power and the power of the civic machine to see to it that anything possible is done her head came up like a rocket at blast-off hold it she said you can't put me off with that one that's standard answer number one in the city manager's guidebook and I ain't buyin' it buster I used to work at the civic machine myself so I know all the standard answers backward and forward well I assure you ma'am I said don't hand me that stuff again what I want is for you to call off the civic machine and quit trying to roof the only place where our children can feel the open air and sunshine I see you aren't gonna be satisfied with anything else I said that's right I'm sorry but that's impossible we have programmed the roofing job for next month on the civic machine and we can't change it now that Mr. Rowe is a lie I said leaning across my desk and sticking a slim white finger under my nose I know you can change it in five minutes if you want to it won't be changed I said is that your final word final Mr. Rowe, she said putting her hands on her hips I think you'll be sorry she headed for the door only to turn around and ask me I suppose she is I said but don't bother her she takes no interest in civic affairs I don't have to tell you boys that I dismissed the lady from my mind and went on to more important matters or so I thought when I got home that night I didn't say anything about Hattie Dakin my wife is inclined to see things differently than I do she would punch she would side with Hattie consequently rather than get into a discussion I just let it slide not too many of you boys know my wife but those who do know that she is like so many other women not particularly interested in any civic machine just so she gets what she wants when she dials the home connection to the machine is all she is interested in that night though my wife surprised me by having a burning interest in the civic machine she wanted to know all about it how it produces the consumer products how it gets them to the living area how it knows what to order and she especially quizzed me on the new projector when I asked her why she wanted to know about all that after 15 years of marriage she just smiled sweetly and said that naturally she was interested in my work next day I brought home a sample programming sheet for her to see and damned if she didn't dismiss it with a sniff as being too complicated and boring go figure women out that night we had two molded gelatin dishes a round kind with the hole in the center the next night we had the same kind of supper we had a fish and something in gelatin we had meat and something in gelatin same sort of deal for dessert the next day I got my first tip that something was up when Willie Kipe, a caster for NYC TV called me and asked about the protest on the Central Park roofing proposal saying he got the item from his woman assistant I said it didn't amount to much and that the project was going ahead on schedule I caught Willie's cast that night and he treated it in a light manner that really may be smile I should have been crying instead that night we had some more molded gelatin only square molds this time same thing the next day I figure it was time to take a stand a diplomatic one of course honey I said as I sat toying with my food can't we have different dishes every night? I'm getting tired of all this gelatin junk how about a steak but darling gelatin is good for you it's simply crammed full of protein and all the girls at the club are eating lots of gelatin but I don't like gelatin that well I said I don't either but it's good for both of us she said with her best smile I had a steak that night after she went to bed the next day I got a call from the head of warehousing division over at Civic asking me if I had any preference on warehousing molds what molds I wanted to know well let's see we've got 3.5 million round gelatin molds with a hole in the center we've got 5.6 million gelatin molds no center hole and 7.3 million figure 8 gelatin molds and I understand there's a hell of a lot of deep dish gelatin molds coming up tomorrow from supply at Schenectady why in the hell have we got all those molds I don't know he said Civic machine ordered them so I suppose we need them where do you want the storing done put up one of those new kiosk warehouses out east if you have no objection put it anywhere you want I said switching off before I could get back to work there was a call from Stats got a little problem down here Mr. Rowe said the tech Schenectady is sending us a premium billing on the over order of plastic how much is the premium quite a little boss 100 million are there abouts I checked with them and the reason for the extra strong premium is because they had to rebuild the factory let's see which one was that oh yes cold molding dishes division of the cooking receptacle plant what do you want me to do enter a protest saying we aren't responsible and get over to fed court where they can pro-rated over the other cities no I guess you better pay it the chips were falling into place now and I didn't like what they were building for me as soon as I switched off I put in a call to my head tech at the civic machine and asked for a rundown on the food ordered for supper for the past six or eight nights it took a while but when I got it back it was enough to make my hair curl and uncurl in three quarter time first thing I did was call my wife and ask her what we were having for dinner that night we're having your favorite steak and kidney pie dear she said in that innocent little girl voice that means there's trouble ahead no more of those gelatin dishes sweet no more of that awful gelatin darling I'm so tired of it but I did order a pair of nice shears today you know sweetheart scissors yes dear that's nice I said trying to smooth down the hair on the back of my neck which was standing straight up the civic machine didn't have any scissors darling so I told it to go ahead and get me a pair regardless of the weight that was all right wasn't it dear fine dear fine I can't imagine why the civic machine should be out of just plain old six inch scissors can you just can't imagine darling goodbye goodbye sweetie my hand was shaking when I called the tech at the civic machine and asked him to check up on the orders of scissors it took a minute or two when he came back his face was puzzled funny thing boss there was an order for just under ten million pairs of scissors that's more than we have had in the past seven or eight years all ordered last night there must be a mistake somewhere I'll run it through again and have a test made of the orders section never mind just do this I said fix up the projector so it doesn't send out any orders for scissors and cancel any orders that have been placed I was ringing wet with sweat it was going to be a close one believe me boys I didn't waste any time getting on fax and TV telling everyone that there had been a change in plans due to public demand and we weren't going to be able to roof over Central Park after all I suggested that as long as the administration had cooperated the people should cooperate on the matter an hour later I called the civic machine and asked for a check on scissors the orders had dropped to a mere five women way above normal but the way cancellations were coming in it was obvious that it would be within reasonable proportions soon just in case some of you missed the play by play on that let me sketch it out for you as I found out later it seems that this had he taken had organized a phone campaign on the let our children enjoy nature theme which went over big with women every woman called five women friends and these five called five and so on you figure it out with geometrical progression it didn't take long to get in touch with about fourteen or fifteen million women not as fast as TV maybe but a darn sight more efficient and thorough it was the talk of the women's world and we men didn't even know about it until the battle was over this horde of women led by haddie dakin agreed that they would order the same dish gelatin in a round mold on the same night you know what this can do to a good projector it just went frantic projectors work on the basis of average demand for anything and with an average demand for round mold gelatin foods two nights in a row of about ten to eleven million it went ahead and ordered a whole conveyor load of mold dishes from Schenectady the next time it was square molds for two nights and the next it was figure eight for two nights and then double shot of deep dish they have a new projector up at Schenectady same as we have and it ordered an increase in the size of the mold making factory based on our demand which was run in with everyone else's demand then when the demand didn't come through for us and from the other cities in the area we had to pay a premium for building the new factory the scissors business would have bankrupted us completely think of it millions of pairs of steel scissors in the year twenty oh six think of the premium for increasing the size of factory prospecting the planets mining spaceship freight rates and so forth that's why I was glad to give up the central park project well to make a long story short we aren't going near central park and Charlie who originally thought of the idea is probably out there wondering why he did it now in closing I hope all the rest of you who have had a good laugh will sober up and sympathize with me and see what you can do about ordering jello molds from we'll ship them out Prado we have a large supply and no reasonable offers will be refused please fellas the end of make me an offer by con bloomberg berknecks bounty by jerry soul this is a libervox recording all libervox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit libervox.org recording by winston tharp berknecks bounty by jerry soul I never thought I'd like circus life but a year of it has changed me it's in my blood now and I suppose I'll never give it up even if they'd let me this job is better than anything I could get in the newspaper racket I work all summer it's true but I get the winter off when I go to work or mighty tempting maybe if I hadn't been kicked off the paper I'd be city editor now knocking my brains out who knows but maybe I'd just be a rewrite man or in the slot writing heads or copy reading but the thought of newspaper work after all this appalls me Turlick the civilian should be thanked for the whole thing I suppose though it would be a grudging thank you I'd give him considering all the trouble he caused still I first saw him on a july morning at the beginning of the vacation schedule when four of us on the local side were trying to do five people's work my first inkling anything was wrong came when I returned from the courthouse beat and stuck a sheet of paper in the typewriter to write the probate court notes I struck the keys they wouldn't go all the way down I opened the cover plate looked in to see what was wrong nothing so I tried again Oscar Phipps the city editor was giving me the eye I figured maybe he was pulling a trick on me but then I knew he hadn't he wasn't the type the backspace tabular margin release shift and shift lock worked perfectly but the keys only went down a short way before they stopped all except one key the cap D I hit the cap D it worked fine the first time but not the second I tried all the keys again this time only the lower I worked now I had uppercase D lowercase I I went ahead testing pretty soon I had dimly then came a space a few letters more and it was dimly drows the dreary droves Phipps had one eyebrow raised I lifted the cover plate again quickly there I saw a fuzzy thing it whisked out of sight I snapped the plate down and held it down the party I had been on the night before hadn't been that good and I had at least three hours sleep I tried typing again I got nothing until I started a new line then out came primly prides the privy prose I banged up the plate saw a blur of something sinking down between the type bar lovers again whatever it was it managed to squeeze itself out of sight in the most amazing way hey I said I know you're down there what's the big idea fuzzy squeezed his head up from the levers the had looked like that of a mouse but it had teeth like a chipmunk and bright little black beads for eyes they looked right at me you go right ahead he said in a shrill voice this is going to be a great poem do you have any inspiration there on those two lines? listen will you get out of there I've got work to do yes I think I've hit it at last it was that forced stress iambic that did it it was iambic wasn't it go away I said miserably fuzzy pulled the rest of himself out of the bars and stood on hind feet he crossed his fore paws in front of him vibrated his long furry tail and said defiantly no look I pleaded I'm not Marquis and you're not Archie and I have work to do now will you please get out of this typewriter his tiny eyes swivelled upward post on Marquis and Archie go to hell I said I slammed the cover down and looked up into the cold eyes of Oscar Phipps who was standing next to my desk who may I ask he said ominously do you think you're talking to take a look at the plate once again fuzzy was there on his back his legs crossed his tail twitching I don't see anything Phipps said you mean you can't see fuzzy here I pointed to him the end of my finger and inch from his head ouch I drew my hand away the little devil bit me you're fired Mr. Weaver Phipps said in a tired voice fired as of now I'll arrange for two weeks severance pay what I do is to stay off the bottle or see a psychiatrist or both not that'll do you any good you never amounted to anything and you never will I would have taken a swipe at fuzzy but he had slunk out of sight during the two erratic years I had been on the newspaper I had passed the city park every morning on my way to work feeling an envy for those who had nothing better to do than to sit on the benches and contemplate the nature of the universe now I took myself there and sat as I had seen others do hoping to feel a kinship with these unfortunates but all I did was feel alone frustrated and angry at Phipps maybe I had been too convivial maybe I had enjoyed night life too much maybe I hadn't given the paper my all but I wasn't ready for the booby hatch even if I had seen a fuzzy little thing that could talk I drew a copy of editor and publisher from my pocket writing the help wanted editorial columns when out of the corner of my eye I saw a blob of black moving along the walk turning handsprings balancing himself precariously on the end of his vibrating tail running and waving his four paws to get my attention was fuzzy I groan please go away I covered my eyes so I wouldn't have to look at him why? he piped because you were a hallucination I'm not a hallucination he said indignantly I'm real flesh and blood, see? he vibrated his tail so fast I could hardly see it then it stopped and stood straight out lovely, isn't it? look, I said, leaning off the bench to speak to him I can prove you're a hallucination you can, he quavered how? because Phipps couldn't see you that's square, ha he wouldn't have believed me if you had seen me you mean you? he disappeared and reappeared like a flashing neon sign there, he said triumphantly why didn't you let him see you then? I asked, a little angry but please nonetheless with his opinion of Phipps because you didn't, you cost me my job he waved a four paw depreciatingly you didn't want to stay on that thick sheet anyway it was a job now you've got a better one who's kidding whom? together, we'll write real literature I don't know anything about literature my job is writing the news you'll be famous with my help, of course not with that dimly drow stuff oh, that where did you come from, Fuzzy? do I ask you where you come from? well, no and my name's not Fuzzy, it's Turlick pronounced Turlick and spelled T-R-L-K my name's Larry Weaver pronounced Larry I know look, you got a typewriter a portable, at the apartment that'll do aren't you taking things for granted? I haven't said yet whether I like the idea do you have any choice? I looked at him a couple of ounces of harmless looking fur that had already cost me my immediate future in the newspaper business I guess not I said, hoping I could find a way to get rid of him if things didn't work out right and so began a strange collaboration with Turlick perched on my shoulder dictating stories into my ear while I typed them he had definite ideas about writing and I let him have his way, after all I didn't know anything about literature sometimes when he'd get stuck he'd get down and pace the living room rug other times he'd massage his tail which was as long as he smoothing it with his tongue and meticulously arranging every hair on it it's lovely don't you think? he often asked and I'd say if you spent as much time working on this story as you do admiring your tail we'd get something done sorry he'd say, hopping on my shoulder again where were we? I'd read the last page and we'd be off again one day Turlick crawled on his shelf to watch me shave whiffed the shaving lotion bottle became excited and demanded I put a drop of it in front of him he lapped it up, saint blissfully back on his tail and sighed wonderful he squeaked simply wonderful he hiccupped I let him sleep it off but I was always careful with the lotion after that days stretched into weeks my money was running low and the apartment superintendent was pressuring me for a payment of the month's rent I kept telling him I'd pay as soon as the first checks came in but only rejection slips came in first one, then two, then half a dozen I don't even read them Turlick wailed of course they read them, I said, showing him the sheets they were wrinkled from handling the post office did that he countered I showed him coffee spots on one page cigarette burns on another well, maybe he said, but I don't think anything would have convinced him when the last story came back Turlick was so depressed I felt sorry for him than I did for myself it was time, we had been working hard I got out a bottle I poured a little lotion for Turlick the next afternoon we tackled the problem in earnest we went to the library, got a book on writing and took it home after reading it from cover to cover I said Turlick, I think I found the trouble with your stories what is it? you don't write about things you know things that happen to you that you have observed I showed him where to advise this in the book his eyes brightened we went right to work this time the stories glowed but so did my cheeks the narratives all involved a man who lived in a hotel room they recounted the seemingly endless love affairs with his female visitors why Turlick, I explained how come you know about things like this he confessed that he had lived with such a man a freelance writer who never made the grade with his writing but who had plenty of girlfriends who paid the freight he had a way with women Turlick explained he certainly had I said reading again the last page he had dictated he finally married an older woman with money then he gave up trying to write I don't blame him I said wistfully I had to find another writer this time I decided to try a newspaper that's where I ran into you don't remind me things got better after that we began to get a few checks from magazines small checks, but they paid a few bills the big blow fell, however, when Mr. Aldenrud the superintendent came roaring upstairs one day clutching a sheaf of papers the stuff, he screamed, waving the sheets before me the kids found it on the waste paper they're selling them a dime a sheet around the neighborhood they're worth more than that, I said regretting that Turlick and I hadn't burned our rough drafts you're kind of mole, Mr. Aldenrud said at the earliest possible instant his face was epileptic I'm giving you notice right now, thirty days he turned and went out muttering I didn't have anybody committing to paper and slammed the door two days later I was seated at the typewriter smoking a cigarette and waiting for Turlick as he paced back and forth on the rug his tiny paws clasped behind his back talking to himself and working out a story angle at the same time when suddenly there appeared on the carpet next to him a whole host of creatures just like him I nearly gulped down my cigarette Turlick let out a high-pitched screech of joy and ran over to them they wound their long tails around each other clasped and unclasped them twined them together and seemed a sort of greeting meanwhile they kept up a jabber that sounded like a thirty-three and a third RPM record being played seventy-eight RPM finally the biggest one detached himself from the group and gave Turlick a tongue lashing that would have done justice to a FIPS that hung his head every time he tried to say something the big one would start in again at length the leader turned to me my name is Burke Nick pronounced Burke, Nick and spelled B-R-K-N-K and I'm Larry Weaver I said hoping they weren't relatives who were going to stay that's pronounced La-Ree I know we're from Sibylia III tourists we include Earth in our itinerary of the inhabited planets we visit we're terribly sorry for all the inconveniences our wayward Turlick here has caused you it was nothing I said with a lightness I didn't feel Turlick had threatened to run off many times he has a craze for self-expression and your literature fascinates him he has insatiable thirst I know he turned to Turlick it's against the rules of the galactic tours to make yourself visible to any of the inhabitants along the way, you know that it's a prime offense to interfere with our lives do you realize how many rules you've broken how long we have been looking for you he did the best he could I said hopefully, as a matter of fact we were having considerable success with his a literary project I understand you lost your job because of him is that right? yes, but I encouraged him I hope there was some way I could ease the sentence Turlick has committed grievous wrongs Mr. Weaver we must make enough to you well there was an angle I hadn't expected what can we do for you I consider it a moment, you mean a wish or something? Birknick laughed nothing like that we're not magicians well, I could stand a little cash I'm sorry he said and did look pained we can't interfere in business we don't have any of your currency and we are forbidden to duplicate or steal it he frowned and studied me suddenly his face brightened he bawled orders and several smaller civilians rushed forward and started scampering all over me one of them nipped a piece of flesh out of my arm ouch! I yelped rubbing the spot what are you doing? you humans are a proud race Birknick explained, I'll give you reason to be prouder than the rest we'll change your metabolism you're an endocrine balance toughen your muscle fibers a thousand fold we'll make you the strongest man on earth look, I said you don't want to be the strongest man on earth well, how about the girl's champion boxer we can speed up your reflexes at least ten times I shook my head I don't want that either sounds too much like work besides, I never liked getting into fights Birknick scowled called a huddle they buzzed at each other their tails vibrating like mad one of them finally yipped and everybody spun around Birknick beamed what is it? a little civilian I hadn't noticed jabbed something in my arm I winced and he nearly fell off he retreated with injured pride come along, Turlick Birknick said what's supposed to happen, I asked it will be a glorious surprise Birknick assured me you'll never regret it the only thing I ask is that you never tell anyone about us I promised Birknick to me I noticed the beginning of tears in his eyes I reached down and patted him gently on the head so long little fellow I said, it's been fun goodbye he said sorrowfully they vanished nothing happened for several days so I bought a copy of editor and publisher and was writing for my first job when I felt a tender spot on my tailbone when I examined it I saw a perturbance there denying it the civilians had given me what they treasured most I was growing a tail a long hairy tail as I say I have come to like circus life at first I tried to get doctors to cut it off but they were too curious for that then I thought of jumping in the river or putting a bullet through my head but after I saw what the scientists were making of it when I viewed my picture in all the papers and when I saw the awe with which I was regarded by everyone I changed my mind now I make a cool 25,000 a year without lifting a finger just my tail I've become rather fond of it I've even learned how to vibrate it but I've never told anybody about the civilians they wouldn't believe it not old Phipps anyway some day I'll go and vibrate my tail right in his face I'd never amount to anything eh? let's see him grow a tail end of Birknex Bounty by Jerry Soul The Hated by Frederick Poe this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Hated by Frederick Poe the bar didn't have a name no name of any kind not even an indication that it ever had one all it said on the outside was cafe, eat, cocktails which doesn't make a lot of sense but it was a bar it had a big TV set going yata-ta yata-ta in three glorious colours and a jukebox that tried to drown out the TV with that lousy music they play anyway it wasn't a kid hangout I kind of like it but I wasn't supposed to be there at all it's in the contract I was supposed to stay in New York and the New England States cafe, eat, cocktails was right across the river I think the name of the place was Hoboken but I'm not sure it all had a kind of dreamy feeling to it I was well I couldn't even remember going there I remembered one minute I was downtown New York looking across the river I did that a lot and then I was there I don't remember crossing the river at all I was drunk you know you know how it is double bourbons and keep them coming after a while the bartender stops bringing me the ginger ale because gradually I forget to mix them I got pretty loaded long before I left New York I realised that I guess I had to get pretty loaded to risk the pension and all used to be I didn't drink much but now I don't know when I have one drink I get to thinking about Sam and Wally and Chad ahead and Guilvy and the captain if I don't drink I think about them too and then I take a drink and that leads to another drink and it all comes out to the same thing well I guess I said it already I drink a pretty good amount but you can't blame me there was a girl I always get a girl someplace usually they aren't much and this one wasn't either I mean she was probably somebody's mother she was around 35 and not so bad though she had a long scar under her ear down along her throat to the little round spot where her larynx was it wasn't ugly she smelled nice while I could still smell you know and she didn't talk much I liked that only well did you ever meet somebody with a nervous cough like when you say something funny a little funny not a big yuck but they don't laugh and don't stop with just smiling but they sort of cough she did that I began to itch I couldn't help it I asked her to stop it she spilled her drink she looked at me almost as though she was scared and I tried to say it quietly too sorry she said a little angry a little scared sorry but you don't have to forget it sure but you asked me to sit down here with you remember if you're going to forget it I nodded at the bartender and held up two fingers you need another drink I said the thing is I said Gilvy used to do that what? that cough she looked puzzled you mean like this goddammit stop it even the bartender looked over at me that time now she was really mad but I didn't want her to go away I said Gilvy was a fellow who went to Mars with me Pat Gilvy oh she sat down again and leaned across the table low Mars the bartender brought our drinks and looked at me suspiciously I said say Mack would you turn down the air conditioning my name isn't Mack no have a heart it's too cold in here sorry he didn't sound sorry I was cold I mean that kind of weather it's always cold in those places you know around New York in August it hits 80, 85, 90 all the places have air conditioning and what they really want is for you to wear a shirt and tie but I like to walk a lot you would too you know and you can't walk around much in long pants and a suit coat and all that stuff not around there not in August and so then when I went into a bar it had to have one of those built-in freezers for the used car salesman with their dates or maybe their wives all dressed up for what? but I froze Mars the girl breathed Mars I began to itch again want to dance they don't have a license she said Byron I didn't know you've been to Mars please tell me about it it was all right I said that was a lie she was interested she forgot to smile it made her look nicer she said I knew a man my brother-in-law he was my husband's brother I mean my ex-husband I get the idea he worked for General Atomic in Rockford Illinois you know where that is sure I couldn't go there but I knew where Illinois was he worked on the first Mars ship oh 15 years ago wasn't it he always wanted to go himself but he couldn't pass the tests she stopped and looked at me I knew what she was thinking but I didn't always look this way you know not that there's anything wrong with me now I mean but I couldn't pass the tests anymore nobody can that's why we're all one-trippers I said the only reason I'm shaking like this is because I'm cold it wasn't true of course it was that cough of Gilvie's I didn't like to think about Gilvie or Sam or Chowderhead or Wally or the Captain I didn't like to think about any of them it made me shake you see we couldn't kill each other they wouldn't let us do that before we took off they did something to our minds to make sure what they did it doesn't last forever it lasts for two years and then it wears off that's long enough you see because that gets you to Mars and back and it's plenty long enough in another way because it's like a straight jacket you know how to make a baby cry hold his hands it's the most basic thing there is what they did to us so we couldn't kill each other it was like being tied up like having our hands held so we couldn't get free well but two years was long enough too long the bartender came over and said pal I'm sorry see I turned the air conditioning down you alright it looked so I said sure I'm alright he sounded worried I hadn't even heard him come back the girl was looking worried too I guess because I was shaking so hard I was spilling my drink I put some money on the table without even counting it it's alright I said we were just going we were she looked confused she went along with me they always do once they found out you've been to Mars in the next place she said between trips to the powder room it must take a lot of courage to sign up with something like that were you scientifically inclined in school don't you have to know an awful lot to be a space flyer did you ever see any of those little monkey characters they say live on Mars I read an article about how they lived in little cities of pop tents or something like that only they didn't make them they grew them funny ever see those that trip must have been a real drag I bet what is it 9 months you couldn't have a baby excuse me say tell me all that time how do you well manage things do you ever have to go to the you know or anything we managed I said she giggled and that reminded her so she went to the powder room again I thought about getting up and leaving while she was gone but what was the use of that I'd only pick up somebody else it was nearly midnight a couple of minutes wouldn't hurt I reached in my pocket a little box of pills they gave us it wasn't refillable but we get a new prescription in the mail every month along with a pension check the label on the box said caution use only as directed by physician not to be taken by person suffering heart condition digestive upset or circulatory disease not to be used in conjunction with alcoholic beverages I took three of them I don't like to start them before midnight but anyway I stopped shaking I closed my eyes and then I was on the ship again the noise in the bar became the noise of the rockets and the airwashes and the sludge sluices I began to sweat although this place was air conditioned too I could hear Wally whistling to himself the way he did the sound muffled by his oxygen mask and drowned in the rocket noise but still perfectly audible the tune was sophisticated lady sometimes it was easy to love and sometimes chasing shadows but mostly sophisticated lady he was from Juilliard somebody sneezed and it sounded just like chowder head sneezing you know how everybody sneezes according to his own individual style chowder head had a lady-like little sneeze it went Hutter real quick or through the mouth no nose involved the captain went Harash Wally was Ashoo, Ashoo, Ashoo Guilvy was Sam didn't sneeze much but he sort of coughed and sprayed and that was worse sometimes I used to think about killing Sam by tying him down and having Wally and the captain sneeze him to death but that was a kind of joke naturally when I was feeling good or pretty good usually I thought about a knife for Sam for chowder head it was a gun right in the belly, one shot for Wally it was a Tommy gun just stitching him up and down you know back and forth the captain I would put in a cage with hungry lions and Guilvy I'd strangle with my bare hands that was probably because of the cough I guess she was back please tell me about it she begged I'm so curious I opened my eyes you want me to tell you about it oh please about what it's like to fly to Mars on a rocket yes alright I said it's wonderful what three little white pills will do I wasn't even shaking there are six men see in a space the size of a Buick and that's all the room there is two of us in the bunks all the time four of us on watch maybe you want to stay in the sack in extra ten minutes because it's the only place on the ship where you can stretch out you know the only place where you can rest without somebody's elbow in your side but you can't because by then it's the next man's turn maybe you don't have elbows in your side while it's your turn off watch but in the starboard bunk there's the air regenerator master valve I bet I could still show you the bruises right around my kidneys and in the port bunk there's the emergency escape hatch handle that gets you right in the temple if you turn your head too fast and you can't really sleep I mean not soundly because of the noise that is when the rockets are going when they aren't going then you're in free fall and that's bad too because you dream about falling but when they're going I don't know I think it's worse it's pretty loud and even if it weren't for the noise if you sleep too soundly you might roll over on your oxygen line then you dream about drowning ever do that you're strangling and choking you can't get any air it isn't dangerous I guess anyway it always woke me up in time though I heard about a fellow in a flight six years ago well so you've always got this oxygen mask on all the time except if you take it off for a second to talk to somebody you don't do that very often because what is there to say oh maybe the first couple of weeks sure everybody's friends then you don't even need the mask for that matter or not very much everybody's still pretty clean the place smells oh let's see about like the locker room in a gym you know you can't stand it that's if nobody's got space sickness of course we were lucky that way but that's about how it's going to get anyway you know outside the masks it's soup it isn't that you smell it so much you kind of taste it in the back of your mouth and your eyes sting that's after the first two or three months and later on it gets worse and with the mask on of course the oxygen mixture is coming in under pressure that's funny if you're not used to it your lungs have to work a little bit harder to get rid of it especially when you're asleep so after a while the muscles get sore and then they get sore and then well before we take off the psych people give us a long doodah that keeps us from killing each other but they can't stop us from thinking about it and afterward this is what you won't read about in the articles they keep us apart you know how they work it we get a pension naturally I mean there's got to be a pension otherwise there isn't enough money in the world to make anybody go but in the contract it says to get the pension we have to stay in our own area the whole country is mocked off six sections each has at least one big city in it I was lucky I got a lot of them they try to keep it so every man's hometown is in his own section but well like with us Chowderhead and the captain both happened to come from Santa Monica I think it was Chowderhead that got California and Nevada all that southwest area it was the luck of the draw God knows what the captain got maybe New Jersey I said and took another white pill we went on to another place and she said suddenly I figured something out the way you keep looking around what did you figure out well part of it was what you said about the other fellow getting New Jersey this is New Jersey you don't belong in the section right right I said after a minute so why are you here I know why you're here because you're looking for somebody that's right she said triumphantly you want to find that other fellow from your crew you want to fight him I couldn't help shaking white pills or no white pills but I had to correct her no I want to kill him how do you know he's here he's got a lot of states to roam around in two doesn't he six New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland all the way down to Washington then how do you know he'll be here I didn't have to tell her how I knew but I knew I wasn't the only one who spent his time at the border of his assigned area looking across the river or staring across a state line knowing that somebody was on the other side I knew you fight a war and you don't have to guess that the enemy might have his troops a thousand miles away from the battle line you know where his troops will be you know he wants to fight too Hutter Hutter I spilt my drink I looked at her you you didn't she looked frightened what's the matter did you just sneeze me did I I said something quick and nasty I don't know what no it hadn't been her I knew it Chowderhead Marvin T. Roebuck 5 feet 8 inches tall dark-complexed with a cast in one eye spoke with a mid-west kind of accent even though he came from California shriek for shriek horror for horror like that it drove me crazy after a while maybe that gives you an idea what he talked about mostly a skunk he brooded mother murdering skunk I kicked over my chair and roared Roebuck where are you damn you the bar was all at one silent only the jukebox kept going I know you're here I screamed come out and get it you louse I told you I'll get you for calling me a liar the day Wally sneaked a smoke silence everybody looking at me then the door of the men's room opened he came out he looked lousy eyes all red rimmed and his hair falling out the poor crumb couldn't have been over 29 he shrieked you he called me a million names he said you thieving rat I'll teach you to try to cheat me out of my candy ration he had a knife I didn't care I didn't have anything and that was stupid but it didn't matter I got a bottle of beer from the next table and smashed it against the back of a chair it made a good weapon you know I take that against a knife anytime I ran toward him and he came all staggering and lurching toward me looking crazy and desperate mumbling and raving I could hardly hear him because I was talking too nobody tried to stop us somebody went out the door and I figured it was to call the cops but that was all right once I took care of Chowderhead I didn't care what the cops did I went for the face he cut me first I felt the knife slide up along my left arm but you know it didn't even hurt only kind of stung a little I didn't care about that I got him in the face and the bottle came away and it was all like grey and white jelly and then blood began to spring out he screamed oh that scream I never heard anything like that scream it was what I had been waiting all my life for I kicked him as he staggered back and he fell and I was on top of him with the bottle and I was careful to stay away from the heart because that was too quick but I worked over the face and I felt his knife get me a couple times more and and I woke up you know and there was Dr. Santly over me with a hypodermic needle that he had just taken out of my arm and four male nurses in fatigues holding me down and I was drenched with sweat for a minute I didn't know where I was it was a horrible queasy falling sensation as though the bar and the fight and the world were dissolving into smoke around me then I knew where I was it was almost worse I stopped yelling and just lay there looking up at them Dr. Santly said trying to keep his face friendly and non-committal you're doing much better Byron boy much better I didn't say anything he said you worked through the whole thing in two hours and eight minutes remember the first time you were 16 hours killing him Captain Fun Vacate was that time remember who was it this time Chowderhead I looked at the male nurses doubtfully they let go of my arms and legs Chowderhead said Dr. Santly oh Robuck that boy he said mournfully his expression saddened he's not coming along nearly as well as you nearly he can't run through a cycle in less than five hours and that's peculiar it's usually you he well I better not say that shall I no sense setting up a counter impression pause are all open so to speak he smiled at me but he was a little worried in back of the smile I sat up anybody got a cigarette give him a cigarette Johnson the doctor ordered the male nurse standing alongside my right foot Johnson did I fired up you're coming along splendidly Dr. Santly said he was one of these psych guys that thinks if you say it so it makes it so you know that kind we'll have you down under an hour before the end of the week that's marvellous progress then we can work on the conscious level you're doing extremely well whether you know it or not why in six months say in eight months because I like to be conservative he twinkled at me we'll have you out of here you'll be the first of your crew to be discharged you know that that's nice I said the others aren't doing so well no not at all well most of them particularly Dr. Guilvy the run-throughs leave him in terrible shape I don't mind admitting I'm worried about him that's nice I said and this time I meant it he looked at me thoughtfully but all he did was say to the male nurses he's alright now help him off the table it was hard standing up I had to hold on to the rail around the table for a minute I said my set little speech Dr. Santly I want to tell you again how grateful I am for this I was reconciled to living the rest of my life confined to one part of the country the way the other crews always did but this is much better I appreciate it I'm sure the others do too of course boy of course he took out a fountain pen and made a note on my chart I couldn't see what it was but he looked gratified it's no more than you have coming to you Byron he said I'm grateful that I could be the one to make it come to pass he glanced conspiratorily at the male nurses you know how important this is to me it's the triumph of a whole new approach to psychic rehabilitation I mean to say our heroes of space travel are entitled to freedom when they come back home to earth aren't they definitely I said scrubbing some of the sweat off my face onto my sleeve so we've got to end the system of designated areas we can't avoid the tensions that accompany space travel no but if we can help you eliminate harmful tensions with a few run-throughs why it's not too high a price to pay is it not a bit I mean to say he said warming up you can look forward to the time when you'll be able to mingle with your old friends from the rocket free and easy without any need restraint that's a lot to look forward to isn't it it is I said I look forward to it very much I said and I know exactly what I'm going to do the first time I meet one I mean without any restraints as you say I said and it was true I did only it wouldn't be a broken thing to do it with I had much more elaborate ideas than that end of The Hated by Frederick Paul To be are not to be by Kurt Vonnegut Jr this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by Christian Leatherman To be are not to be by Kurt Vonnegut Jr everything was perfectly swell there were no prisons no slums, no insane asylums no cripples, no poverty no wars all diseases were conquered so was old age death, barring accidents was an adventure for volunteers the population of the United States was stabilized at 40 million souls one bright morning in the Chicago line in hospital a man named Edward K. Welling Jr waited for his wife to give birth he was the only man waiting not many people were born a day anymore Welling was 56 a mere stripling in a population whose average age was 129 x-rays had revealed that his wife was going to have triplets the children would be his first young Welling was hunched in his chair his head in his hand he was so rumpled, so still and colorless as to be virtually invisible his camouflage was perfect since the waiting room had a disorderly and demoralized air too chairs and ash trays had been moved away from the walls the floor was paved with spattered drop cloths the room was being redecorated it was being redecorated as a memorial to a man who had volunteered to die a sardonic old man about 200 years old sat on a stepladder painting a mural he did not like back in the days when people aged visibly his age would have been guessed at 35 or so aging had touched him that much before the cure for aging was found the mural he was working on depicted a very neat garden men and women in white doctors and nurses turned to the soil planted seedlings sprayed bugs, sprayed fertilizer men and women in purple uniforms pulled up weeds, cut down plants that were old and sickly leaves carried refuse to trash burners never, never, never not even in medieval Holland nor old Japan had a garden been more formal been better tended every plant had all the loam, light water, air and nourishment it could use a hospital orderly came down the corridor singing under his breath a popular song if you don't like my kisses honey is what I will do I'll go see a girl in purple kiss this sad world to the loo if you don't like my loving why should I take up all this space I'll get off this old planet let some sweet baby have my place the orderly looked in at the mural and the muralist looks so real, he said I can practically imagine I'm standing in the middle of it what makes you think you're not in it? said the painter he gave a satiric smile it's called the happy garden of life, you know there's good a doctor hits said the orderly he was referring to one of the male figures in white whose head was a portrait of Dr. Benjamin Hitz the hospital's chief obstetrician Hitz was a blindingly handsome man lots of faces still to fill in said the orderly he meant that the faces of many of the figures in the mural were still blank all blanks were to be filled with portraits of important people on either the hospital staff or from the Chicago office of the Federal Bureau of Termination must be nice to be able to make pictures that look like something said the orderly the painter's face curdled with scorn you think I'm proud of this dob? he said you think this is my idea of what life really looks like? what's your idea of what life looks like? said the orderly the painter gestured at a foul drop cloth there's a good picture of it he said frame that and you'll have a picture of damn sight more honest than this one you're a gloomy old duck aren't you? said the orderly is that a crime? said the painter the orderly shrugged if you don't like it here grandpa he said and he finished the thought with the trick telephone number that people who didn't want to live anymore were supposed to call the zero in the telephone number he pronounced not the number was B-R-NOT-2-B it was the telephone number of an institution whose fanciful sobriquettes included Automot Birdland Canary Cat Box De-Louser Easy Go Goodbye Mother Happy Hooligan Kiss Me Quick Lucky Pierre Sheep Dip Wearing Blender Weep No More and Why Worry To be or not to be was the telephone number of the municipal gas chambers of the Federal Bureau of Termination the painter thumbed his nose at the orderly when I decided it's time to go he said it won't be at the sheep dip do it yourself right said the orderly massive business grandpa why don't you have a little consideration for the people who have to clean up after you the painter expressed with an obscenity his lack of concern for the tribulations of his survivors the world could do with a good deal more mess if you ask me he said the orderly laughed and moved on welling the waiting father mumbled something without raising his head and then he fell silent again a coarse formidable woman strode into the waiting room on spike heels her shoes stockings trench coat bag an overseas cap were all purple the purple the painter called the color of grapes on judgment day the medallion on her purple musette bag was the seal of the service division of the Federal Bureau of Termination an eagle perched on a turnstile the woman had a lot of facial hair an unmistakable mustache in fact a curious thing about gas chamber hostesses was that no matter how lovely and feminine they were when recruited they all sprouted mustaches within five years or so is this where I'm supposed to come? she said to the painter a lot would depend on what your business was he said you aren't about to have a baby are you? they told me I was supposed to pose for some picture she said my name is Leor Duncan she waited and you dunk people he said what? she said skip it he said that sure is a beautiful picture she said looks just like heaven or something said the painter he took a list of names from his smock pocket Duncan Duncan Duncan he said scanning the list yes here you are you're entitled to be immortalized see any faceless body here you'd like me to stick your head on we've got a few choice ones left she studied the mural bleakly gee she said they're all the same to me I don't know anything about art a body's a body eh? he said alrighty as a master of fine art I recommend this body here he indicated a faceless figure of a woman who was carrying dried stalks to a trash burner well said Leor Duncan that's more the disposal people isn't it I mean I'm in service I don't do any disposing the painter clapped his hands and mocked the light you say you don't know anything about art and then you prove in the next breath that you know more about it than I do of course the sheave carrier is wrong for a hostess a snipper a pruner that's more your line he pointed to a figure in purple who was sawing a dead branch from an apple tree how about her he said you like her at all? gosh she said and she blushed and became humble that that puts me right next to Dr. Hitz that upsets you he said good craving though she said it's it's just such an honor ah you you admire him eh he said who doesn't admire him she said worshipping the portrait of Hitz it was the portrait of a tanned white haired omnipotent Zeus 240 years old who doesn't admire him she said again he was responsible for setting up the very first gas chamber in Chicago nothing would please me more said the painter then to put you next to him for all time sawing off a limb that strikes you as appropriate that is kind of like what I do she said she was demure about what she did what she did was make people comfortable while she killed them and while Leora Duncan was posing for her portrait into the waiting room bounded Dr. Hitz himself he was seven feet tall and he boomed with importance accomplishments and the joy of living well miss Duncan miss Duncan he said and he made a joke what are you doing here he said this is where the people leave this is where they come in we're going to be in the same picture together she said shyly good said Dr. Hitz hardly and say isn't that some picture I sure am honored to be in it with you she said let me tell you he said I'm honored to be in it with you without women like you this wonderful word we've got wouldn't be possible he saluted her and moved toward the door that led to the delivery rooms guess what was just born he said I can't she said triplets he said triplets she said she was exclaiming over the legal implications of triplets the law said that no newborn child could survive unless the parents of the child could find someone who would volunteer to die triplets if they were all to live called for three volunteers do the parents have three volunteers said Leora Duncan last I heard said Dr. Hitz they had one and was trying to scrape another two up I don't think they made it she said nobody made three appointments with us nothing but singles going through today unless somebody called in after I left what's the name Welling said the waiting father sitting up red-eyed and frowsy Edward K. Welling Jr. is the name of the happy father-to-be he raised his right hand looked at a spot on the wall gave a hoarsely wretched chuckle present he said oh, Mr. Valin said Dr. Hitz I didn't see you the invisible man said Welling they just phoned me that your triplets have been born said Dr. Hitz they're all fine and so is the mother I'm on my way in to see them now hooray said Welling emptily you don't sound very happy said Dr. Hitz what man in my shoes wouldn't be happy said Welling he gestured with his hands to symbolize carefree simplicity all I have to do is pick out which one of the triplets is going to live then deliver my maternal grandfather to the happy hooligan and come back here with a receipt Dr. Hitz became rather severe with Welling towered over him you don't believe in population control, Mr. Valin he said I think it's perfectly keen said Welling, totally would you like to go back to the good old days when the population of the earth was 20 billion about to become 40 billion then 80 billion then 160 billion do you know what a droplet is Mr. Valin said Hitz nope said Welling, sulkily a droplet, Mr. Valin is one of the little knobs one of the little pulpy grains of a blackberry said Dr. Hitz without population control human beings would now be packed on this surface of this old planet like droplets on a blackberry think of it Welling continued to stare at the same spot on the wall in the year 2000 said Dr. Hitz before scientists stepped in and laid down the law there wasn't even enough drinking water to go around and nothing to eat but seaweed and still people insisted on their right to reproduce like jackrabbits and their right, if possible to live forever I want those kids said Welling, quietly I want all three of them of course you do said Dr. Hitz is that only human I don't want my grandfather to die either said Welling nobody's really happy about taking a close relative to the cat box said Dr. Hitz gently sympathetically I wish people wouldn't call it that said Leora Duncan but said Dr. Hitz I wish people wouldn't call it the cat box and things like that she said it gives people the wrong impression you are absolutely right said Dr. Hitz forgive me he corrected himself gave the municipal gas chambers their official title a title no one ever used in conversation I should have said ethical suicide studios he said that sounds so much better said Leora Duncan this child of yours whichever one you decide to keep Mr. Welling said Dr. Hitz he or she is going to live on a happy, roomy, clean rich planet thanks to population control in a garden like that mural there he shook his head two centuries ago when I was a young man it was a hell that nobody thought could last another 20 years now centuries of peace and plenty stretch before us as far as the imagination cast you travel he smiled luminously the smile faded as he saw that Welling had just drawn a revolver Welling shot Dr. Hitz dead there's room for one great big one he said and then he shot Leora Duncan it's only death he said to her as she fell there room for two and then he shot himself making room for all three of his children nobody came running nobody seemingly heard the shots the painter sat on the top of his stepladder looking down reflectively on the sorry scene the painter pondered the mournful puzzle of life demanding to be born and once born demanding to be fruitful to multiply and to live as long as possible to do all that on a very small planet that would have to last forever all the answers that the painter could think of were grim even grimmer, surely than a cat box a happy hooligan an easy go he thought of war he thought of plague he thought of starvation he knew that he would never paint again he let his paintbrush fall to the drop cloths below and then he decided he had had about enough of life in the happy garden of life too and he came slowly down from the ladder he took welling's pistol really intending to shoot himself but he didn't have the nerve and then he saw the telephone booth in the corner of the room he went to it dialed the well-remembered number to be are not to be federal bureau of termination said the very warm voice of a hostess how soon could I get an appointment he asked speaking very carefully we could probably fit you in late this afternoon sir she said it might even be earlier if we get a cancellation alright said the painter fit me in if you please and he gave her his name spelling it out thank you sir said the hostess your city thanks you your country thanks you your planet thanks you but the deepest thanks of all is from future generations the end of to be are not to be by Kurt Vonnegut Jr recording by Christian Leatherman