Earth Unaware

by Mack Reynolds

  That set the other back. “Not going to be over? Well… why?”

  “Because one of the miracle workers we’ve been talking about slapped a hex on them,” Ed said. “See you again, some time, Professor.”

  It was several days later before he decided to get in touch with Helen and Buzz again. Several days spent in a lethargic stew. Several days of indecision and frustration.

  There should be something that he, Buzzo and Helen could do. But where was there to start? Neither of them dared get within distance of the gifted prophet. On the other hand, Ed Wonder was apprehensive over what Tubber might get around to doing all on his own. He didn’t need the catalyst of Ed or the others around. He was perfectly capable of dreaming up his own hexes. And was probably busy doing so.

  He decided to call Helen Fontaine and suggest a date. Maybe being together would bring something to mind.

  He didn’t have to phone Helen. She beat him to it.

  The audio-alarm told him he was wanted on the phone, and it was her face that lit up the screen when he flicked it on. She looked distraught.

  “Little Ed! Do you know where Buzz is?”

  He scowled at her. “No. The last time I saw him he was with you at the club.”

  “He’s disappeared.”

  “What does that supposed to mean?”

  “I’ve been trying to find him, to suggest we three get together again and bounce this thing around. But he’s not at the paper. Nor at his apartment.”

  Ed had a sudden premonition. “You don’t think he’s gone up to see Tubber?”

  Her eyes were wide. “That’s also what I’m afraid of.”

  Ed said, “I’ll be right over.” He flicked off the phone and turned to go.

  8

  The audio said, “Two gentlemen to see you.”

  Ed looked at the door screen. Two men stood there. Two men he had never seen before.

  He opened up and they looked at him impassively.

  “You’re Edward Wonder?” the first one, the older one, said.

  “That’s right.”

  “There’s somebody’d like to talk to you.” He brought out a wallet, flicked it open for inspection. “My name’s Stevens; this is Johnson.”

  Ed grunted his lack of awe. “Gestapo, eh? What can I do for you?”

  “You can come along,” Johnson said, mildly courteous.

  Ed Wonder was moved to stubbornness. “Why? What’ve I supposed to have done?”

  The first one, Stevens, said, “Search me. Some big deal, Mr. Wonder. Now will you please come along?”

  “Look, I’m a citizen, and a taxpayer.” He thought about that. “At least I was until a week ago. Aren’t you supposed to have a warrant, or something?”

  “Evidently, that was the good old days,” Stevens said, without antagonism. “Things are in a hurry now. Emergency. We were told to bring you in soonest. So we’re doing it.”

  Ed Wonder felt more stubborn by the minute. “No,” he said. “Besides, I hate coppers.”

  They looked at him.

  He said, “That’s a long time ambition. To call a police officer a copper.”

  Johnson said, “Swell. So now you’ve called somebody a copper. So lets get along.”

  Ed gave up. “All right. But if you think you’ve got an emergency, you ought to know about my emergency.”

  “It’s probably the same one,” Stevens said.

  They ushered him down the elevator and to the street, one at each arm, easily, but Ed Wonder had the feeling that if he’d made a sudden dash for it, he wouldn’t have got more than two feet. There was a huge hover limousine before the door. They ushered him into the front seat and took their own positions to both sides of him. Stevens dialed their destination and the hover car rose toa police level and sped south.

  “Where’re we going?” Ed said.

  “Manhattan.”

  “Why?” Ed said. “Don’t I get some sort of idea? I thought I was allowed to phone a lawyer, or something.”

  “That was the good old days,” Stevens said.

  Johnson was more cooperative. “Actually, Mr. Wonder, we don’t know what they want you for. This is the most hush-hush operation I’ve ever worked on.”

  “Who’s they?” Ed demanded, indignant again, now.

  Neither of them responded to that.

  Manhattan was approximately a hundred miles to the south. Stevens lessened the speed fifteen minutes later and slipped into the heavier traffic of Ultra-New York.

  They approached the New Woolworth Building, entered a vehicle portal and came to a halt before three smartly uniformed men, two of whom carried heavy caliber automatics in quick draw holsters.

  Ed and his two plainclothesmen came out of the car and received the oatmeal look from the guards.

  Credentials were presented and checked. The unarmed guard got on a phone and spoke into it quietly. Then he turned, nodded and showed them to an elevator.

  They rose at stomach churning acceleration for what seemed a fantasically long time to Ed Wonder. They reached a peak of speed and then began to drop off. The door finally opened.

  There were more guards, also armed. These too were passed. Ed Wonder’s two plainclothesmen ushered him down a hall to a side corridor. He passed a window and shot a look out. They were evidently very near the top of the tallest building in Manhattan. The doors of some of the rooms they passed were open. Inside were scores, hundreds, of men and women office workers. All seemed harassed. Other rooms were being set up for further activity; I.B.M. machines being wheeled in, key punches, collators, automatic printers, sorters.

  “What the devil’s going on, here?” Ed demanded.

  Johnson replied reasonably, “Like we told you. We don’t know.”

  They finally reached their destination. Ed was ushered into a small anteroom, unoccupied save for a single girl at a desk.

  Stevens said, “Wonder, Edward. Kingsburg. ‘C’ priority. Number Z-168.” He handed her an envelope. She opened it and scanned the single sheet it contained. “Oh, yes. Mr. Yardborough has been waiting.” She directed her voice to an interoffice communicator. “Mr. Yardborough, Mr. Wonder from Kingsburg has been brought in.”

  Ed said hotly, “Look here, am I under arrest? If so, I want to phone a lawyer.”

  She looked at him, shook her head as though too tired to answer. “Mr. Yardborough will see you now.”

  One of the plainclothesmen opened the inner door for Ed’s passage, then closed it behind him.

  Mr. Yardborough sat at a littered desk. The way Ed remembered it, an executive should never have a littered desk. There should only be one item of business at a time before the efficient executive.

  Mr. Yardborough’s desk was littered to hell and gone.

  He looked up, as weary in appearance as his receptionist. “Have a chair, Mr… uh… Wonder. Let me see.” He took up a paper out of the mess before him, then three news clippings.

  Ed Wonder sat down. At least, somewhere in here he’d find out what was going on. The whole thing looked less and less like a police matter. He began to suspect…

  Yardborough said, “Edward Wonder. Program director of the Far Out Hour, broadcasting on radio from Kingsburg. This first item we have on you is a news item written by…” he checked the clipping “…Buzz De Kemp, of the Kingsburg Times-Tribune. It describes, somewhat tongue in cheek, your radio guest, Ezekiel Joshua Tubber, an evangelist, who, supposedly, placed a, uh, curse on the vanity of women.”

  Ed started to say something, but Yardborough held up a weary hand. “Just a minute. The second item is along the same line. Mr. De Kemp did another piece, also tongue in cheek, contending that this itinerent preacher, Tubber, was the cause of the so-called Homespun Look fashion fad.”

  Yardborough laid down the second clipping, took up a third. “The last item also carries Mr. De Kemp’s byline but the style of writing seems somewhat different.”

  “It was redone by the rewrite desk,” Ed mumbled. Things were beginn
ing to clear.

  “Indeed. Very well. This story, humorous in tone, reveals that Tubber claims to have been the cause of the current difficulties pertaining to television and radio.” Yardborough put the clipping down.

  Ed said, “Where’d you get those?”

  The other man smiled ruefully. “Believe me, Mr. Wonder, we have copies of every newspaper in the world, in whatever language, coming in here to the top five floors of the New Woolworth Building. We have translators going through them, word by word.”

  Ed looked at him blankly.

  Yardborough said, “Going through every newspaper in the world in hopes of finding a single hint, is only one of the operations going on in this building, Mr. Wonder. Nor is this building alone in the effort. However, suffice to say that we turned up these three items on you and Tubber. Now then, what have you to say to elucidate?”

  Ed blurted, “What do you mean, what do I have to say? Nothing. They’re true.”

  Yardborough said, “What’s true?”

  “Ezekiel Joshua Tubber put a curse on women’s vanity. And it worked. Then he put a curse on radio and TV. That happened on my program. It worked too.”

  Yardborough came to his feet. “All right, come along with me, Mr. Wonder.”

  “Don’t you want to hear the whole story?” Ed Wonder said, surprised.

  “You’re already out of my jurisdiction,” Yardborough told him. He gathered up the papers pertaining to Ed and led the way back into the receptionist’s office. The two plainclothes-men were still there, patiently waiting as only police can patiently wait.

  Yardborough snapped to them. “This man has become ‘A’ priority, it’s your necks if anything happens to him.” He said to Ed Wonder, “Follow me.”

  They went back into the corridor and up and down halls again. They were stopped only once by guards for identification. Finally, the four of them reached another office, larger this time, with three desks in the reception room. There were several guards about. Four or five nervous looking characters were sitting, obviously waiting for something or other, each with his own contingent of guards.

  “Have a seat,” Yardborough told Ed, then went on to speak to one of the girls at a desk. He put the papers before her and spoke lowly. She nodded.

  Yardborough turned back to Ed Wonder. “Good luck,” he said. To the two plainclothesmen he added, “Stick with him like paste until further orders.”

  “Yes, sir,” they both said. Yardborough left.

  “What the devil goes on?” Ed demanded.

  Johnson seemed impressed. “You’re the first ‘A’ priority we turned up,” he said.

  “Oh, great,” Ed snapped. “What’s ‘A’ priority mean?”

  “Search me,” the other told him.

  He waited possibly half an hour before a jittery looking type issued forth from one of the several inner offices that opened off the reception room, and called, “Edward Wonder?”

  Ed stood up. His two guards came to attention.

  The newcomer approached. “You’re Wonder?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Come with me.” Even as they walked into the inner sanctum, the other was scanning the report and Ed’s three clippings. The guards stayed behind.

  There were two desks inside, the second occupied by an army major who had discarded his tunic which hung over the back of a chair, and had loosened his tie. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for quite a while.

  The jittery looking type said, “I’m Bill Oppenheimer. This is Major Leonard Davis. You’ve been turned over to us as an ‘A’ priority.”

  Even as he spoke he had tossed the report and clippings to Major Davis, who began tiredly perusing them.

  Oppenheimer bent over an intercom on his desk and rapped, “I have here in my office a Mr. Edward Wonder of Kingsburg, New York. I want an immediate complete on him. Send a team.” He flicked off the intercom and turned back to Ed. “Sit down,” he said emptily.

  Ed said, “What in the devil’s ‘A’ priority?”

  “Somebody who thinks he knows what caused TV and radio to go haywire.”

  “Why don’t you add movies?” Ed said. He was still confused. The curves were coming too fast for him to assimilate.

  The army man looked up from the papers. He snapped, “We thought them separate phenomenon!”

  “Well, they aren’t,” Ed told him definitely.

  Oppenheimer sat on the edge of his desk and sighed. “Thus far, Mr. Wonder, the major and I have interviewed some three hundred persons in this office. All of them thought they knew the reason for the disruption of the air waves. All of them had been passed on to us as ‘A’ priority. Now, will you please tell us your story, in detail. As much detail as possible.”

  The major snorted and tossed the dippings and report to his desk. “First, what was that crack about the movies?”

  Ed said, “The same thing that caused TV and radio to go on the blink is the cause of the movies failing to project correctly.” He added. “For that matter, it’s also the cause of the Homespun Look fad.”

  The major flicked a switch and said into his intercom, “Immediate action. It has been suggested that the failure of cinema is connected with TV and radio phenomenon. Will communicate further in due course.” He flicked the switch again. “All right,” he said to Ed Wonder. “The complete story.”

  Ed told it to them, in all the details they wanted. He brought it right up to the last, and the disappearance of Buzz De Kemp.

  When he had finished they continued to goggle him for a long silent moment.

  Finally, Bill Oppenheimer coughed, as though apologetically. He said to the major, “What’d you think, Lenny?”

  The major knuckled his chin and twisted his mouth. “I just gave up thinking,” he said. “I’ve heard everything, so now I don’t have to think any more.”

  Ed was irritated. “Oh, funnies we get,” he said. “Big joke.”

  Oppenheimer said, hopefully, “You think we ought to just throw him out?”

  “I didn’t ask to come here,” Ed growled. “I was kidnaped.” They ignored him. The major shook his head and said, “We can’t throw him out. We can’t throw anybody out until we’ve checked the story through all ways from Tuesday.” He flicked his desk switch again and said, “If any of the following haven’t already had pickups, get them. Also immediate completes on all. This is an ‘AA’ priority. Buzz De Kemp, Jensen Fontaine, Helen Fontaine, Matthew Mulligan, Ezekiel Joshua Tubber. Yes, I said Ezekiel Joshua Tubber. And Nefertiti Tubber. All are from Kingsburg, New York, except the last two, last seen in Saugerties.”

  Oppenheimer sighed and spoke into his own intercom. “Alice, the tape we just cut. Do it up immediately. Fifty copies. The usual distribution. It’s an ‘AA’ now. He sticks to his story.”

  They both looked back at Ed Wonder, wordlessly for the moment.

  The major opened his mouth to say something. Then he closed it again.

  Oppenheimer said, without inflection, “Hexes.”

  The intercom on the major’s desk reported something. The major’s eyebrows went up. “Send it in immediately.”

  Within moments a messenger entered, deposited two copies of a report on the desks, hurried out again.

  Ignoring Ed Wonder, the two read.

  Oppenheimer looked up. His eyes went to Major Davis. “Crash priority?”

  “Yes.” The major came to his feet, reached for his tunic, changed his mind. Then, in his shirt sleeves, tie still loose, he headed for the door. He said to Ed Wonder. “Come along.” Ed shrugged, got up and followed him. Oppenheimer brought up the rear, carrying the papers pertaining to Ed and the new report as well.

  In the reception room, Johnson and Stevens shot to their feet and came forward.

  The major said, “You’re Mr. Wonder’s guards?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The major beckoned to two of the other guards present. “You’re released from your present assignment. You’ll help guard Mr. Wonder.
With your lives, if necessary. This is crash priority.”

  “Yes, sir.” All four of the guards brushed back coattails so that quick draw holsters were revealed on their hips, and now instantly available.

  “What the devil,” Ed protested. He was ignored.

  “Come along,” the major said again, and led the way. This time they ascended to the above floor. The bustle here was considerably less. They went through this hall, through that. Finally winding up before a door where a guard stood. As they approached, his hand went to his gun and remained there until the major and Oppenheimer identified themselves.

  Oppenheimer said to him, “Another guest. There are six of you now. You’ll take it in shifts. One man outside, one in at all times. I’ll send lientenant Edmonds to arrange details. Until he turns up, all six of you stand by.”

  He got a chorus of yes sirs, then opened the door and led the way inside. It was a lavish suite.

  Buzz De Kemp looked up from the chair in which he was sitting reading a paperback novel. He grinned, took his stogie from his mouth and said, “Hi, Little Ed. So they picked you up too.”

  Ed Wonder was beyond surprise by now. He sat down on the couch and closed his eyes.

  Oppenheimer and the major looked at the newspaperman. The former said, “We’ve just read your report on the Tubber affair. Largely, you corroborate what Wonder has just told us. That ups you from ‘AA’ priority to crash.”

  “Well, good for us,” Buzz beamed. “How many other crash prforities are there?”

  “Several hundred, at least, in the United Welfare States. How many in England, Common Europe and the Soviet Complex, I’d have to check again to find out. Possibly by this time the Allied Neutral States have gotten underway as well.”

  Buzz whistled silently. “This thing is getting really big.”

  “It’s as big as a war,” the major said flatly.

  Ed was beginning to adjust. He said peevishly, “When do we eat around here? If I’ve got to be a prisoner, I ought to be fed once in a while.”

  Oppenheimer said to him. “You’re not a prisoner. You’re a volunteer, working for the government.”