Luthguster ran around behind a pod, crying, "Look out! There's one of them!"
"What?" Hester shook her head. "Oh, Keech is all right. I told him the whole story,"
"I'm the soul of discretion," Keech said.
Hester turned to the captain. "Which do you want first, the good news or the bad?"
"Hester, I hate making decisions."
"Start with the bad," Ensign Benson said. "Then we'll have the good for dessert."
"Fine. The bad news is, the rocks damaged our lateral rockets. 'We can't navigate."
"Oh, my goodness," said the captain.
Can it be fixed?"
'I'll have to go outside on a ladder."
"Wear a hat," Ensign Benson advised. "The weather's getting worse out there.."
Pain, looking at a view screen, said, "What's this?"
So they all looked and saw several natives approaching, pulling a wooden-wheeled cart filled with cloth.
"They're bringing back our laundry," the captain said.
Ensign Benson said, "I don't think they cleaned it."
"I'll go get it," Pam said.
Ensign Benson, whose dream that someday Pam would discover she was a human female had not yet died, said, "I'll go with you.
They left, and the captain said, "Hester? You had good news?"
"I would be more than happy," Luthguster said, "to hear good news."
"I did a mineral analysis on those rocks," said Hester. "The reason they're yellow, every one of them is at least part gold."
The natives had dumped the laundry at the foot of the ladder and had gone away with the cart, expressing their contempt. Pam and Ensign Benson cautiously descended, and when they reached the bottom, a hand reached out of the laundry and grabbed Pam's ankle. "Eek!" she said, naturally.
Malya's lovely face appeared among the shirts and the shorts. "Shh! It's me, Malya; I'm on your side! Sneak me in before anybody sees!"
"My laundry never came back with a girl in it before," Ensign Benson said.
Out of a cave onto the blasted plain staggered Billy, rubbing his head. "Ooh, that hurts," he mumbled. "What kind of Heaven is this?" Raising his face and his voice, he cried, "Malya! Malya?"
A dozen natives leaped on him from all sides, pummeled him and, carried him away.
"So I have him hidden," Malya said. She was on the command deck with the five Earthpeople and Keech.
"We'll have to move the ship at once," Luthguster said, "to his hiding place. This young lady can direct us."
"We can't navigate," Hester reminded him "till I fix the lateral rockets."
"We have a saying here," Keech commented. "'Into each life a little rock must fall."
The captain said, "It was a mistake to pretend to be gods."
"I agree, Captain," Ensign Benson said. "My error. It seemed like a good idea at the time. But as long as we've made the mistake, we'll have to live with it. Councilman, you'll have to go out there and reconvince them that you're Juju-Kuxtil.
"Me? They'll stone me!"
"The hand that cradles the rock rules this world," Hester said.
"That isn't nice," Pain said. "People shouldn't throw stones."
"Why not?" Keech asked, "We don't live in glass houses."
The captain said, "if we tell them about the gold, won't -"
Ensign Benson said, "The what?"
Hester explained, "The yellow rain is mainly gold. If this colony went into the export business, it could become rich."
Keech said, "What's gold?"
"I know you're primitive," Luthguster told him, "but that's ridiculous."
"I may be primitive," Keech answered, "but it's you wiseacres that're in trouble."
Ensign Benson said, "Pam, the rockfall pattern repeats, doesn't it? You could do a yearly calendar with the rockfalls."
"It's a very complex pattern, but yes, of course."
"Could you do it in an hour?"
"Oh, my goodness," Pam said. "I'll try."
The captain said, "You have a plan to help Billy, Ensign Benson?"
"If Malya and Keech will help,"
"I'll help," Malya said. "I don't want anybody to hurt Billy."
Keech said, "Is gold something that makes you rich?"
Grinning, Hester said, "I told you he was smart."
This time, in the roofless temple, it was Billy who was about to be sacrificed. He was tied and gagged and lying on the altar, with Achum holding the stone knife over him and the worshipers eagerly watching below. Achum prayed, "Great Juju-Kuxtil, we're sorry we were misled. Please accept this demon as a token of our esteem." He poised with the knife.
Keech came running in, crying, "Wait! I have come from Juju-Kuxtil's cloud! I have much to tell you!"
"After the services," Achum told him. "First the sacrifice, then the collection, then you can talk."
"No, I have to talk now," Keech insisted. "That is the real Juju-Kuxtil."
Achum shook his head and waggled the stone knife. "Stuff and nonsense. There was more yellow rain after he supposedly made it stop."
"He was testing our faith," Keech said.
A worshiper mused, "A god pretending to be a demon disguised as a god to test our faith. Hmm. That makes sense."
Achum wasn't convinced. "How can you know that, Keech?"
"They took me to their ship. I mean the cloud. Also your daughter Malya; they took her there, too."
"Malya?" Achum looked around, called, "Malya!"
"She's still in the cloud," Keech said. "And Juju-Kuxtil is going to come out and talk to us."
Achum lowered. "Oh, he is, is he?"
"He sent me to get everybody to come hear his speech."
"Oh, we'll come," Achum said. "Gather rocks, everybody! This time we'll pelt him good! And bring along the sacrifice; we'll finish the services later."
In a corridor of the Hopeful, by an exit hatch, the captain, Pam and Ensign Benson prepared Councilman Luthguster for his public. "Now, do remember to turn on your microphone," the captain said, yet again. "Your words will be transmitted through the ship's loud-speaker."
"Yes, yes," said the extremely nervous Luthguster.
Handing the councilman a sheaf of papers, Pam said, "Just remember, it's an eight-month cycle, and this planet has a sixteen-month year, so the cycle runs twice a year."
"Young lady," Luthguster said, clutching the papers, "I have no idea what you think you're saying."
"Now, Councilman," Ensign Benson said, "there's nothing to worry about."
"There's nothing for you to worry about. You'll be in the ship."
"You'll be behind this shield." Ensign Benson rapped the clear-plastic shield with his knuckles. "Just give them one of the speeches you're famous for, and they'll calm right down. They'll sleep for a week,"
"I do have some small reputation as a peacemaker," Luthguster acknowledged, though he continued to blink a lot. "Very well. For the future of mankind on this planet." And he stepped onto the small platform that would swing out onto the side of the ship once the hatch was opened.
"Knock 'em dead," Ensign Benson advised him and pushed the button.
A frozen smile of panic on his face, Luthguster permitted himself to be swung slowly out into plain sight high on the side of the gleaming, cigar-shaped Hopeful. And below, bearing armloads of rocks and carrying the trussed-up Billy on a long pole, came the natives. They did not look particularly reasonable.
"People of Heaven," Luthguster said, but, of course, he had forgotten to turn on his microphone, so nobody heard him. Flicking the thing on, he tried again:
"People of Heaven,"
"There he is! There he is!"
"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone."
A thousand stones hit the plastic shield. Luthguster ducked, then recovered, crying out, "Surely, some of you have sinned ' "
"The stones bounce off him!" Keech shouted. "You see? It is Juju-Kuxtil!"
Achum, poised to throw another stone, hesitated, becoming unce
rtain. "Could I have been wrong?"
The other worshipers had already prostrated themselves, noses in the pebbles, and were wailing, "Juju-Kuxtil! Juju-Kuxtil!"
Privately to Achum, Keech said, "Would you rather be safe or sorry?"
"Juju-Kuxtil!" Achum decided and prostrated himself with the rest.
Quickly, Keech released Billy, while Luthguster delivered his speech:
"People of Heaven, I have tested you, and your faith is not strong. But I am merciful, and I will not return my golden rain to you for" - he consulted Pam's papers -"two days. At ten-fifteen next Tuesday morning, watch out!"
"There you go, kid," Keech said to the freed Billy. "Get to the ship before the councilman louses up."
Billy scampered to the Hopeful while Luthguster rolled on:
"I will never be more than a stone's throw from you all. Achum shall remain my representative here on Heaven, but I won't need any more human sacrifices."
"Drat," the worshipers muttered. "No fun anymore."
"Also, the man who is known among you as Keech will henceforth carry this list, which will tell you the times of all the golden rains that will ever be, from this day forward. You will be smart enough to get in out of the rain, but after every rain, there will be a time to gather stones together. The streets of Heaven are paved with good investments, and I will want them returned. Heaven knows what I'm talking about. Upon these rocks we shall build a mighty nation. Right on this spot here, I want these rocks of ages left for me. Keech will be in charge of all that. I will send ships from Earth to Heaven, and they will trade you machinery, medical supplies, technical advisors and everything else you need, in exchange for my rolling stones. Earth helps those who help themselves. Together, we shall make an Earth right here on Heaven. And remember, a vote for Juju-Kuxtil is a vote for peace, progress and sound financial practice."
Keech led the worshipers in a resounding cheer as Luthguster was wheeled, waving and smiling, back into the ship, where, once the hatch was shut, Ensign Benson said, "Councilman, that may have been your finest hour."
Luthguster was dazzled. "By Heaven, he said, "what a constituency!"
Near the foot of the ladder, Billy made a reluctant farewell to Malya. "Gee, I wish you could come along."
"So do I," Malya admitted. "Earth must be a wonderful place after Heaven."
"Any place is Earth," Billy told her, "With you there."
They were deep in embrace when Ensign Benson appeared at the head of the ladder, calling, "Come on, Billy, or we'll take off without you."
"They can't take off without me," Billy confided to Malya. "I fly it."
"But you must go. Goodbye, Billy."
"Goodbye, Malya."
Malya walked to a nearby rubble heap, where she and Keech watched the Hopeful prepare for take-off. "Gee, what a swell bunch," Malya said.
"That Hester," Keech said, "was the most sensible woman I ever met."
" I wouldn't call Billy exactly sensible," Malya said, "but he was swell."
"Lift-off," Billy said. All six Earthpeople were present on the command deck.
"Captain," Pam said, studying her console, "the ship is overweight."
Diplomatically careful but with an edge of sarcasm, Ensign Benson said, "I believe the councilman smuggled gold aboard."
"Smuggled?" Luthguster was all pompous bluster. "Merely a few souvenirs."
"I'm sorry, Councilman Luthguster," the captain said, "but you'll have to eject them."
"Humph," said Luthguster.
Malya found Achum in the roofless temple, frowning at the statue of Juju-Kuxtil. She said, "What's wrong, Father?"
"I'm still not sure about that crowd," Achum told her. "No more human sacrifices. Would the real Juju-Kuxtil talk like that?"
Luthguster's souvenirs crashed to the altar beside him. Achum froze, then his eyes swiveled to look at the fresh rocks on the altar. Still moving nothing but his eyes, he looked up at the statue. "Ahem," he said. "I guess maybe he would."
"Come along, Father," Malya said. "Dilbump for lunch."
THE WORLD'S A STAGE
______________________
The two tramps, picturesquely filthy, sat by the side of the road in the dusty sunshine. They were dressed in more rags than seemed absolutely necessary given the mildness of the weather; and while one of them mused upon life more or less audibly, the other removed a battered, scruffy boot and frowned mistrustfully into it, as though expecting to find something alive in there. He sighed. He blew into the boot. He sighed. He put the boot on. He took it off again. He turned to his musing, muttering companion and said, “Did I?”
“Yes?”
“What do we do now?”
“We wait.”
A kind of inner earthquake of frustration vibrated through the tramp holding the boot. With a repressed scream, he cried, “For what?”
“For him,” Didi said. “He promised he’d meet us here, and we’re supposed to wait until---” He broke off, gazing upward past his friends filthy forehead.
“Well?” asked the other. “Go on, go on.”
“Oh, my gosh,” said Didi. His voice, his manner, even his facial appearance, all changed.
“What is it?” asked his friend, turning to look.
The two tramps stared upward at the slowly descending spaceship, a great silver corncob lowering through the empty air. “It’s Godot,” Didi whispered in awe. He finally got here.
Inside the spaceship, 27 birds watched Pam Stokes, astrogator, beautiful and brainy but blind to passion, play with her ancestral slide rule. The birds were all stuffed and wired to their perches around the Hopeful’s command deck, and from the expression in their fifty four glass eyes, they didn’t like it a bit. Or perhaps what they didn’t like was the sight of captain Gregory Standforth disemboweling yet another bird on the control panel. Indigo ichor oozed through the dials and switches into the panels innards, where it would make a mysterious bad smell for the next several weeks.
A tall, skinny, vague-eyed, loose wired sort of fellow, Captain Standforth was the seventh consecutive generation of Standforths to spend his life in the service of the Galactic Patrol and the first to be terrible at it. Much was expected of a Standforth, but in this case it was expected in vain. The Captain had had no choice other than to follow the family footsteps into the patrol, and the patrol had to take him, but neither had profited. All the captain wanted was to pursue his one passion, taxidermy-the stuffing of birds from everywhere in the universe-while all the patrol wanted was to never see or hear from him again.
Thump. “Ouch!”, said the captain. As vermilion blood mixed with the indigo ichor, he put his cut varicolored finger into his mouth, said, “oog,” took it out again and made a bad-taste grimace. “Nn”. Turning to Pam, he said, “What was that thump? Made me cut myself.”
“Subsidance,” she said, rapidly whizzing the slide rule’s parts back and forth. “By my calculations, ground level must have eroded seven millimeters in the last half-chiliad. Therefore, the ships computer switched off engines before we actually---”
“Half-chiliad?” asked the captain.
“What’s a half-chiliad?”
“Five hundred years. So that’s why we thumped when we landed.”
“Landed? You mean we’ve arrived somewhere?”
“Yes, sir.”
Captain Standforth looked around at his birds. They looked back. “I wonder where we are,” he said. “I wonder what kind of birds they have here.”
“Wardrobe! Wardrobe!”
“Now what?”
“My wings keep falling off.”
"All right, I’ll get my needle and thread.”
He’s an airhead, Ensign Kybee Benson thought, raging murderously within while he struggled to appear calm and composed without. A clothead, a bonehead, a meathead. Chowderhead, fathead. Muttonhead. No, he’s worse than all those-he’s a Luthguster.
The Luthguster in question, Councilman Morton Luthguster of the Supreme Galactic Counci
l, seated on the other side of Ensign Benson’s desk, went obliviously on with his question: “Why name an entire planet after an actor? A planet called J. Railsford Farnsworth is ridiculous.”
“In the first place,” Ensign Benson said, swallowing brimstone, “the planet is named Hestia IV, since it is the fourth planet form its sun, Hestia. The colony’s full name is the J. Rainsford Farnsworth Repertory Company.”
Councilman Luthguster shook his jowly head. “Damn-fool name for a place,” he insisted. “Detroit, now that’s a name. Khartoum. Reykjavik. But J. Rainsford Farnsworth Repertory Company?”
A tap at the frame of the open office door was followed by the cheerful, optimistic, shiny young face of Lieutenant Billy Shelby, Hopeful’s second in command, who said, “We’ve landed, sir. We’re on the ground.”
”I know what landed means,” Ensign Benson snapped. “I felt the bump. And when I’ve finished explaining the situation to the councilman, we’ll be along.”
“OK,” Billy said happily. “We’ll be waiting at the air lock. At the door.”
“I know what an air lock is.”
Billy cantered off, and Ensign Benson returned to his task. As social engineer, an expert in comparative societies, he had the job of giving Council Luthguster the necessary background on each colony they visited. “When this sector of the universe was colonized,” he explained, “a special cultural fund was set up to bring the arts to the far-flung outposts of Man. A theatrical troupe from Earth was offered its own settlement and a subsidy and was meant to tour the other colonies with a repertory of ancient and modern drama. Of course, contact was lost almost immediately, so the troupe never got its transportation and therefore never toured. There’s no guessing what it’s become by now.”
Luthguster pursed fat lips. “So who is this fellow J. Rainsford Farnsworth?”
“Founder of the repertory company. The actor-director-manager of the troupe.”
“Do you mean,” Luthguster demanded, puffing out like an adder, “that I shall be expected to discuss affairs of state with an actor?”
“I don’t think so.” Ensign Benson said. His face was expressionless, but his tense hand had crushed the plastoak arm of his chair. “J. Rainsford Farnsworth would be about five hundred and forty-three by now, and that’s old even for an actor.”
Collected Stories Page 29
