“But why do you want to invade Earth?” William asked. “We never did anything to hurt you.”
“Because we are pirates,” Hanam said, “space pirates. All we do is invade planets and take whatever we want. Then we go back to Spiegel, and have big celebrations. After a while, we go out and invade some more planets. It’s a lot of fun.”
“There aren’t very many of you,” William said.
“Oh, there are very many of us, all right.” Hanam said. “This is just a potato-pancake collecting ship. The main fleet will be arriving any time now. Then the fun begins.”
William was very worried by the things Hanam was saying. He was afraid the spacemen would hurt his mother and father. He had seen movies in which spacemen came to Earth with death rays and things that shot fire and turned people to mush. “Do you have death rays?” William asked, “Are you going to knock down all the tall buildings in Tokyo and Los Angeles?”
“Mercy, no,” Hanam said. “We don’t do anything nasty like that. All we do when we invade a planet is walk around and have a snack, and we don’t pay for it either. After a while we use up all the things we came to get, and then we enslave the local population, and get them to produce more of the things we like. That’s all. We don’t do anything destructive.”
Hanam seemed very friendly, but William still didn’t like the idea of Earth being invaded. “In other words you come to steal things,” William said.
“Plunder,” Hanam said, “plunder’s the word. It’s traditional.”
“Are you going to let me go home?” William asked.
“After we get started plundering, we’ll put you down near the place we picked you up,” Hanam said. “Meanwhile, just keep out of the way and enjoy your ride. Now I have to get back to work. You may look out the porthole if you like.”
William was standing near a round window in the side of the spaceburger. He walked over and looked out. What he saw was amazing. He could see the whole Earth—or most of it. The spaceburger had gotten very high since he had been taken on board. He could see North America, and parts of South America and Europe. It was like the globe in Mr. Wendel’s classroom, only the colors were much nicer. Everything was sort of shimmering and glowing, and reflecting the light of the moon. There were clouds like strings of yarn near the earth, and the oceans and big lakes shimmered beautifully. William really liked it. That is, he really liked the Earth—not just the sight he was enjoying. He felt that the Earth was a wonderful place. It was his home and he liked it. It made him feel sort of strange and sad. It made him feel sadder to think that the Earth was going to be invaded, and the people enslaved by these fat spacemen. William wondered what he could do about it—but he was just a kid. There was nothing he could do.
His radio tooth was starting to work again. He had been too busy to pay attention to it, but he had been vaguely aware of the fact that it hadn’t been receiving since he came on board the spaceburger. Now, standing near the glass or plastic window, it was starting to pick up faint signals again. William thought that maybe the metal spaceburger stopped the radio waves, but they could pass through the stuff the porthole was made of.
The signals were not as loud and clear as they had been on Earth, but if William clenched his teeth hard, he could make them out. There was the static-language of the spacemen communicating. Moving through space, William wasn’t able to make a mental picture of the movements of the spaceships as easily as before. He did get the impression of a lot of activity. There seemed to be more and more of the spaceburgers every minute. William strained to try and see them. Every now and then, he did see a brief flash of reflected light that might have been another spaceburger.
William could also hear the radio station on Earth that had always come through on his tooth. It was very faint, and he had to clench his teeth so hard to hear it that it gave him a headache. He could only keep it up for a few seconds at a time. The radio station was broadcasting news flashes, and they were very interesting.
“Flash—the millions of round objects falling slowly through space are not meteorites as previously thought, but have now been identified as fat men, wearing plaid sport jackets, falling slowly into our atmosphere. Stay tuned to this station for further reports on the amazing story.”
The invasion had started. William hoped his mother and father weren’t too scared.
“Reports from our affiliated stations seem to indicate that the fat men have started to land. It is estimated that there are hundreds of millions of them still in the sky. The fat men are landing in all parts of the world, but the greatest concentrations appear to be in California and New Jersey.”
William looked around. All the fat men, except Hanam, were buttoning their plaid sport jackets, and putting their black plastic-rimmed eyeglasses in their pockets-preparing to jump. Hanam was standing at the controls, operating the spaceburger. A door appeared in the side of the spaceburger, and the crew jumped out. William looked out the porthole and saw the fat men slowly tumbling their way toward Earth.
“There is widespread panic all over Earth, as the hordes of fat men from space continue to land. So far there have been no reports of hostile acts. The governments of all the countries of Earth have asked people to remain calm, and stay in their houses until the invaders express their intentions. We will keep you informed as this amazing story develops.”
William could see lots of other spaceburgers now. He saw hundreds of fat spacemen tumble by his porthole. There were spaceburgers dropping spacemen as far as William could see. The only clear places were over the oceans. Everywhere else, there were spacecraft and jumpers. It really was an amazing sight. William couldn’t remember ever seeing so many of anything.
“What do these fat men from space want? Is this the beginning of a war? Do they want to conquer the people of Earth?. . . It appears that, for the moment, they want hamburgers. . . . Crowds of fat men have surrounded roadside hamburger stands throughout the civilized world. . . . They are also consuming great quantities of pizza, and cupcakes wrapped in cellophane . . . and hot dogs . . . and ice cream bars . . . and jelly doughnuts . . . halvah . . . chocolate-covered marshmallows. . . . It seems that the invaders from space are after every sort of junk food. . . . Stand by for further bulletins.”
William was starting to get the picture now. He was beginning to understand what sort of pirates these were. The news bulletins were coming faster and faster now.
“No cars, trains, or buses are able to move because of gangs of fat men from space strolling on the roads, eating Twinkies and jumbo cheeseburgers. Airplanes all over the world are grounded by the fat men who are continuing to fall earthward . . .”
“It is next to impossible to make one’s way through any of the great cities of Earth because of the clutter of popsicle sticks and empty paper cups in the street . . .”
“Conditions of panic exist in many parts of the United States. Residents of most areas cannot get anything to eat but lean meat, fish, fruit, and vegetables . . .”
“A late-breaking bulletin from San Anselmo, California—fat men from space broke into a warehouse and ate sixty thousand frozen tacos . . .”
“On State Highway 22 in New Jersey, fat men from space held two sixteen-year-old girls captive for six hours at Burger World, until the girls had finished deep-frying 148,000 orders of breaded clams . . .”
“The Pentagon announced, a few minutes ago, that there is no more whipped cream left anywhere on Earth. General Fred Horsewhistle, speaking for the Joint Chiefs of Staff, expressed the opinion that it may be necessary to use nuclear weapons against the fat men, whatever the cost. Stand by for further bulletins.”
William could see that the situation was very serious. The fat men from space were eating up all the junk food on Earth at a fantastic rate. What worried him was what Hanam had told him about enslaving the people of Earth to make more junk food for them, after they had eaten everything on Earth. He was alone in the spaceburger with Hanam, who was operating the controls, and
munching on a frozen pizza. William wondered if he could overpower Hanam in some way, and get to Earth to warn everybody about what was going to happen next. He decided there was no way. He didn’t know how to operate the spaceburger, and besides Hanam was much bigger than he was. William just looked out of the porthole, and listened to his tooth.
“In Cleveland, Ohio, spacemen are preparing to dynamite the locked doors of the White Palace frozen hamburger vault, containing one-fourth of the hamburgers on Earth. Mankind will never recover from this massive onslaught against its hamburger reserves.”
The hours passed, and the news flashes continued. William had taken a nap, and Hanam had let him make himself a milkshake and a frozen Mexican dinner. When William looked out the porthole, the fat men were still continuing to fall through the sky.
“In Coney Island, New York, hot dog men made a brave attempt to defend Nathan’s famous hot dog stand against a large gang of fat spacemen. After a fierce battle, lasting several hours, the hot dog men were overpowered, and tied up with strings of their own hot dogs, forced to watch while the fat men devoured all the steamed corn, and French-fried potatoes. This is one of the most heartbreaking and tragic stories of the current emergency, and citizens of Brooklyn have already stated their intention to erect a monument to the brave hot dog men when normal conditions return . . .”
“A news flash—the White House has been invaded by the spacemen who have carried off the President’s private store of frozen Milky Way bars. As soon as Congress can make its way through the welter of empty fish-and-chips boxes that are obstructing traffic in the Capitol, it is expected that war will be declared against wherever the fat men come from.”
William thought this was getting serious. “You spacemen had better leave, before war is declared,” he said to Hanam.
“That doesn’t worry us,” Hanam said. “You don’t have any weapons that we can’t eat.”
It looked extremely bad for Earth. William had just heard that the fat men had found the Holloway’s Milk Duds factory in Chicago, and cleaned it out. Giant chocolate factories in Hershey, Pennsylvania, were deserted. Not a crumb or a person was left. Whole populations were making their way out of cities, stumbling on foot through the piles of wastepaper, cartons, and wrappers. Families tried to escape into the hills or the country, carrying a bag of marshmallows, or a Three Musketeers bar. In almost every case, squads of fat men intercepted the fugitives, and took away their last bit of junk food.
William knew that when the spacemen had gobbled all the cheeseburgers and pizzas and doughnuts, they would enslave the people of Earth and make them produce more things for the invaders to eat. It looked hopeless. It looked dismal. He looked at Hanam. Hanam was licking his fingers. He had just finished an ice-cream pop and a bottle of birch beer. He was idly working the levers and buttons that controlled the spaceburger. An orange light was flashing on the instrument panel, and a high-pitched beeper was beeping. It seemed to be a signal of some sort. Hanam shot a nervous look at William, and went back to minding the controls.
William looked out the porthole. There was a tremendous stirring in the space above Earth. It looked to William as though the fat men were falling upward. They were falling upward! They were tumbling up from Earth, just the way they had tumbled down. William looked at Hanam. Hanam looked worried and preoccupied. “What’s happening?” William asked. Hanam didn’t answer.
William tried to tune in on the static-language. There was so much talking going on that William had a hard time making out what was being said. Something about a potato pancake—the usual topic. Why all this activity, and excitement? William clenched and tuned in the radio station. “More reports are coming in every minute to the effect that the spacemen appear to be leaving Earth. This radio station will keep you informed of this surprising development.”
There was a thumping on the outside of the space-burger. A door appeared and first one, then another of the crew tumbled in. They seemed excited. Another thumping, and more spacemen came aboard. “What’s going on?” William asked.
“We’re leaving,” Hanam said. “As soon as the rest of the crew come aboard, we’ll be off for another solar system. You see, a message just came through from Sargon. There is a report of a giant potato pancake launched in space in the vicinity of the planet Ziegler. We’re going to go after it. It sounds like the biggest potato pancake ever sighted.”
“What about me?” William asked. “You said you were going to take me home.”
“There won’t be time for that,” Hanam said. “A potato pancake like this, a wild one floating in space, turns up once in fifty years. You’ll have to come along.”
“But when will you take me home?” William asked.
“We might come this way in six or seven hundred years,” Hanam answered. “We’ll drop you off then.”
“Six or seven hundred years!” William said. “I’ll be an old man by then! I want to go home now!”
“I don’t see how we can do that,” Hanam said. “We have to leave as soon as the last two crew members come aboard.”
“You promised to take me home!” William shouted. “I don’t want to go with you. I don’t want to go chasing a wild potato pancake in outer space for seven hundred years! I want to go home right now!”
“Well, the only thing I can suggest is that you float down,” Hanam said.
“I don’t know how to float down,” William said.
“There’s nothing to it, if you have a spacejacket,” Hanam said. “We can give you a spare, and drop you right away.”
Hanam reached into a locker and pulled out a plaid sport jacket. “Here, try this on,” he said.
William tried the jacket on. It was about fifty sizes too large. It came right down to his feet.
“All you have to do is jump,” Hanam said. A door appeared.
“I’m not sure I understand,” William said. Hanam pushed him out the door.
Once he got used to it, William liked falling through space. The only thing that bothered him was that he couldn’t tell if he was falling fast or slow. As he tumbled down, droves of fat spacemen passed him, falling in the other direction—falling upward. It took William quite a while to fall through space, and while he was falling he thought things over. If he understood it correctly, the plaid sport jacket was supposed to break his fall in some way. He hoped that was the way it worked. Otherwise, he was going to make a little hole in the ground when he hit.
William looked at the map of North America below him. He wondered if he would land anywhere near home. Gradually the map turned into a model railroad landscape of mountains and trees, towns and lakes. He knew he was falling slowly, like a snowflake, now. He felt like a snowflake—it was cold, high up in the atmosphere. William passed through clouds, slowly. The clouds were wet and unpleasant, not at all the way William thought they would feel. He pulled the plaid spacejacket tight around him.
As William got closer to Earth, he could see individual houses and cars. Now and then a few spacemen would float up past him. William guessed that most of them had already returned to their spaceburgers. William realized that his float-down was almost over, and he felt a little sad. It had been the best part of the whole experience.
William floated down, and landed on the sidewalk in front of his house! He gave a little push with his feet, and floated over the house into the backyard. He did one more experimental jump, straight up, of about a hundred feet, landed lightly, took off the spacejacket, folded it neatly, and went into the house.
Everything was normal inside the house, except that the door had been ripped off the freezer. William’s mother told him later that some fat men had broken in and taken all the TV dinners, the sugar-coated breakfast cereal, and the instant breakfast powder.
William’s parents were glad to see him. They had been worried about him, of course, but during the emergency it had been impossible to get in touch with the police. William’s father had tried to go out and look for him, but he never got past the
enormous piles of Big Mac boxes in the road. So William’s mother and father just sat at home during most of the invasion from outer space, eating the shredded wheat and lettuce that the spacemen had left them, and hoping their son was all right.
William put the spacejacket carefully away in his closet. He didn’t have much time to enjoy it. School and most kinds of work had been suspended for several weeks, and the people on Earth devoted themselves to a massive effort to clean-up the litter. William and his parents were out every day with rakes and shovels, and came home tired every night to their green salad and wholegrain bread, milk, and sometimes meat. William and his parents got to enjoy the clean-up work, and even the experience of living without cheeseburgers and pizza. After the clean-up was finished, the government announced it would be at least a year before soda pop, taco chips, and a lot of other things were once again in general supply. There was almost no sugar anywhere on Earth, which turned out to be much less of a hardship than people expected.
William’s parents seemed to have forgotten about the radio tooth. William didn’t see any point in mentioning it to them. It still worked, although not as well as it had before the shock from the metal fence, and the adventure in the spaceburger. Sometimes the tooth would be silent for days at a time, and sometimes it would play fairly well. When William went to the dentist a year later, the tooth hadn’t played for almost a month, and Dr. Horwitz thought it would probably stop playing altogether after a while. He also told William that he had no new cavities—a common occurrence worldwide, since sugar was still scarce.
But the radio tooth was not entirely dead. Some nights it would play quite well, and on special nights—ones that were clear and cold—William could hear, behind the Barry Garble show, a kind of rhythmic static that was almost like a language.
Four Different Stories Page 9
