said, "Inhere."
* * * * *
Mrs. Jane Huprich dropped her mop. Her varicose legs trotted across thewet lobby of the Jordon Building, and her flabby fat arms reached forthe tall man with bright eyes who stood near the elevators. "It's me,Mom," the man cried.
"Matt!" Mrs. Huprich cried. "Matt, baby!"
"I got a full pardon, Mom," Matt said, stroking her tangled white hair."Right from the ruling state official. You won't have to scrub floorsanymore! I'm going straight, Mom. I'm a good mechanic now. They learnedme a lot in the enclosure. Come on. I got a used truck outside, I boughtcheap."
Mrs. Huprich and son walked through the oddly twisted doors of theJordon Building and into the gray twilight that awaited dawn. The_Honeychile Bakery_ truck waited too.
* * * * *
Gary Abston peddled his bicycle against the flow of cars carryingday-shift workers through the half-light. He whirled into Walnut Street,twisted a fresh copy of the _Morning Herald_ into a fiendishly cleverknot, and hurled it in the general direction of a front porch thatflashed past on his right. Never slowing, Gary threw the next paperentirely across the street. He chuckled as it cleared a picket fence."Bang, bang!" he blurted. His red shirt, with a picture of a mountedcowboy on the back, ballooned in the early morning breeze.
"Whoa!" Gary roared. He stopped, held the bicycle upright with one footon the pavement. A tall, lanky, slightly bowlegged man with squintingluminous green eyes stood on the sidewalk. Gary looked at the man. Thenewspapers fluttered to the parkway. The bicycle clattered in thestreet.
"Howdy, partner!" the tall man said. "The rustlers are headin' for theplateau! We'll take the short gash and head 'em off at the canyon!"
"Ramrod Jones?" Gary chirped.
"Here's the truck I haul Quizz-kid, the I.Q. Horse, in! Let's get afterthe rustlers!" Jones said.
"Gee, I've seen all your pictures, Ramrod," Gary said. "_Silver CityRaiders_, _Rustlers of Silver City_, _Silver City Rustlers_--"
The great cowboy lifted the newsboy into the _Honeychile_ truck.
* * * * *
Pink and rose clouds drifted through a brightening sky as the_Honeychile Bakery_ truck careened along a narrow road badly in need ofrock and grading. From the road, the truck rattled into a rutted trackthrough dewy woods and skidded swaying to a stop at the side of a long,low, grassy hill.
The tall creature dressed in black, red-spotted fur stepped from thecab. An opening appeared in the hillside. Four machines--dull metal eggsbalancing on single tractor treads--rolled silently through the opening.Jointed steel arms darted from recesses in the eggs. One machine openedthe truck doors.
The creature walked up a ramp inside the hill and entered a shimmeringmetallic compartment.
"Greetings, Eo. I have returned."
Eo, who wore a suit of white fur, hummed, "None too soon, Za. Wemiscalculated dawn. What success?"
"An excellent group," Za said. He stretched and reclined on atransparent slab. "The servants are unloading the vehicle. I captured ayoung male, a mature male, an aged male, some sort of official orguardian male, a mature female, and an aged female."
"Let's view them," Eo said. "You can rest after we're away."
The tall creatures entered a second compartment furnished with a largetable upon which the silent machines deposited inanimate bodies."Extraordinary!" said Eo, staring at Miss Betsy Tapp. "These things havereached a peak of mammalian development!"
"Her correct garments are in this bundle," Za explained. "The servantsare bringing the properties now. I secured a signaling device and a boxused in an extremely primitive system of communication. Also, I broughtthe quaint muscle-powered vehicle ridden by the young male. Thephotographs should be sufficient for other details."
"Any difficulty?" Eo asked as the machines dumped Patrolman Whedbee onthe table.
"The language was the greatest obstacle," Za said. "The same word hasmany different meanings, or many different words have the same meaning.Rather crude."
"Did you use bait, or force?"
"Bait," Za said. "It's much simpler. This is a completely selfish,egocentric breed. Most of them have one thing in mind which they wantsolely for themselves. Their sending power is weak, but that one selfishdesire is powerful enough to be received. I merely dangled it beforetheir minds, and they were hooked." He tapped the foot of Calvin C.Kear. "I killed this one's female companion. She awoke and screamed. Themales and females pair off and live together for years. Strange custom!Breeding seems to be only one reason for the mutual bondage."
Za pointed to Mrs. Jane Huprich. "The old female may be an exception tothe selfishness. I couldn't decide whether she most wanted to berelieved of cleaning floors by primitive methods, or wanted her maleoffspring to be released from some structure where he had been securedfor reasons I couldn't determine."
The machines deposited the Reverend Enos Shackelford and then lined upin a precise row. "This thing is dead!" Eo buzzed.
Za shook his head. "That was the only genuine exception. He confused metill I forgot his proper clothing, but some can be devised from theother samples. He seems to have been a witch-doctor. His mind wascluttered with myths and superstitions from an ancient text. I don'tunderstand him, Eo, and wish I had time to study the phenomena. He wasdifferent from the others. He believed in something and consideredhimself lowly and humble. The minds of the others were in constantconfusion. They believed, actually, in nothing. Somehow, he saw me, Eo.I was forced to kill him."
"No harm done," Eo decided. He faced the machines and said, "Destroy thevehicle, draw in the camouflage net, prepare for take-off." Themachines rolled from the compartment, and the two creatures followed.
"Seal it," Eo said. "I'll plasticize them when we're in space. Finework, Za. I can see the plaque now: 'Mounted by Eo, Collected by Za.Typical Street Corner on Planet _Earth_, Star _Sol_.' The directors willsurely give the group a prominent place in the Galactic Museum ofNatural History!"
"Yes," Za agreed, glancing back at the Reverend Enos Shackelford. "Thisplanet was a fortunate stopover."
_The End_
Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from _Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy_ August 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.
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