Golden Age of Science Fiction Vol XIII

by Various

  "Men of Sobar!" Allerdyce shouted. "Hear me!"

  There were a full fifty of them. Three of them stepped forward, spears held ready for the throwing. One of them was a giant of a man, a full seven feet tall and wide as a barn door.

  "Who calls Sobar," the giant asked.

  "I do," Allerdyce replied. "The messenger of the Great Spirit...." He hoped Sobar knew of this Great Spirit. "He has sent me because Sobar has displeased him...."

  For a few seconds silence reigned. Then the giant stepped forward a few more steps, and his brow tight in a scowl of anger, asked:

  "I do not believe you. You look like one of the swamp people, face of an ape...."

  Allerdyce felt the brittle coldness of a terrible anger sweep through him. He had been called ape before. And always the one who had done the calling had suffered for his temerity. But mixed with his anger was the knowledge that death could be the result of an unwise move or word. Yet time was not on his side, for Sobar was taking the initiative and was stepping even closer and behind him the other two were also coming toward him in imitation of their leader.

  "Hold!" Allerdyce suddenly called in a ringing, imperative voice. "You do not believe me, then, eh? A test, Sobar...?"

  The other was silent, waiting for the stranger to continue.

  "Drop your weapon," Allerdyce said. "You and I, unarmed, to the death...."

  Then gone was the scowl, gone the furrowed brow. Here was meat to Sobar's liking. Here was something he was not frightened of. Spirit or man, Sobar was not afraid of combat of arms. Flinging the spear to one side Sobar motioned for the other to come to him.

  Allerdyce made a feint to come in low but the other merely waited, arms wide, legs spread, and body shifting from the waist. Once again Allerdyce feinted, and as Sobar's body shifted to the side the other seemed to want to come from, Allerdyce leaped forward and grabbed Sobar by his right wrist and using the hand as a lever pivoted on it until he was behind the giant. Then Allerdyce began to exert pressure in a hammerlock.

  All the while he had been moving the giant had been still, as if confused. But as pain came in a rush to his shoulder blade, he moved. Never had Allerdyce felt such strength. For though the wrestler was using all his strength on the grip, Sobar broke it with one gigantic movement of his huge body.

  Allerdyce knew then that the rules of fair play were out. This prehistoric baby was dynamite.... Allerdyce staggered away from the other but recovered quickly as the giant came in, both arms outstretched. And once again Allerdyce grasped one of those huge wrists. Only it was in a judo grip this time, a grip where when a man tries to break it, pressure simply multiplies until either the arm breaks or one cries quits. In this case Sobar waited too long.

  * * * * *

  Even as his face contorted in pain Allerdyce whipped around to one side and delivered a blow with the side of his palm to the side of Sobar's neck. The crack of the breaking neck was like that of a branch breaking. Sobar pitched to his face and lay still.

  Instantly Ugg leaped to Allerdyce's side.

  "Your chieftain was bested in fair play!" he shouted to the warriors of Sobar's tribe. "By our laws you have now become our prisoners."

  "But not by mine!" a strange voice yelled.

  And before Allerdyce could do more than turn, Finster was on him. What made Ed Finster do what he did was never explained. Perhaps the realization of what had happened came to the man. Perhaps his mind, twisted by jealousy and hate snapped at that moment. Whatever the reason, he turned on Allerdyce. It was the signal for a general battle. For of all the cavemen who were present, only one was quick-witted enough to take advantage of the situation. This one was one of the two who had come forward with Sobar.

  He yelled:

  "Gomar is now chief. One of the Spirits is on our side.... Kill Ugg and his...."

  Had it been one of the cavemen attacking, Allerdyce would have managed to get away for the moment he needed to recover. But it wasn't. It was a trained wrestler, one who knew all the tricks, who had leaped at him. So Finster worked his surprise vantage for all it was worth.

  But even then Allerdyce might have won out had it not been for Gomar's call to arms. His men forgot the booty they had taken, the women and children and leaped forward with savage shouts, spears and clubs used indiscriminately. Allerdyce had broken Finster's first hold, and was turning to get a grip on the other, when a club thrown by one of the cavemen caught him a blow on the temple and stretched him senseless to the ground.

  * * * * *

  Allerdyce's awakening this time was not as pleasant as before. Someone was kicking him in the face. He opened his eyes, one of them anyway. The other was closed shut. He was in a cave. It was a smelly cave, the walls blackened from the smoke of many fires. Nor was he alone. He tried to move his arms and discovered he had been securely bound. Suddenly from behind, a foot came swinging out and pain shot up the side of his jaw as the bare toes connected with it.

  "Enough," a voice called.

  "Aah! I've been wanting to do this for a long time," Ed Finster said.

  There was disgust in Gomar's voice as he replied:

  "The Great Spirit has small men for messengers.... Remove the other's bonds."

  "Hey!" Finster yelped in protest.

  But no one paid attention. Hands tore the fibre ropes loose from about Allerdyce's figure and helped him to his feet where he stood swaying like a tree in a high wind.

  "The Great Spirit sent two messengers," Gomar said. "But He had a reason. One was sent to conquer Sobar so that I could become chief. The other was to conquer you. The light is clear.... Take him to the women...."

  Only Finster laughed at the edict. He had reason for the laughter. In all the years of their association Allerdyce had never been known to go for the fillies. And now he was to be thrown to a pack of them. With that puss, Finster thought, they'd throw him right back.

  Spear points pressed against his back, a rope around his wrists, and while the rest walked behind, one man led Allerdyce from the cave into the open, across a level stretch of ground and into a very large cave. Here his wrists were unbound and to the jibes and laughter of the warriors who had accompanied him, Allerdyce was shoved into the cave proper itself.

  The cave was immense, and seemed to be filled entirely with women and children. For a second there was silence. Then as their eyes saw this almost naked stranger, a wild shriek of laughter went up. Hands went out, pointing to his shorts which seemed to be all the clothing he had, to his face, puffed into a gargoylish mask, and to his hairy chest, which looked like the stuffing of a mattress.

  Allerdyce stared in horror at the women, turned and started for the cave entrance. But the cavemen had anticipated his move. They stood guard, spears thrust point forward, and after a few hesitant seconds, Allerdyce turned back.

  But now they were no longer scattered about the cave. They came over in a rush, forcing him to the wall, his hands pawing in futile attempts to prevent them from touching him. For some reason this made them angry. Their hands clenched and spiteful words came from their lips, and several turned aside and called something to the children, who after a moment returned, with stones and sticks.

  "Hey!" Allerdyce called in alarm. "Take it easy...."

  The alarm in his voice was the signal for them to attack. In a moment he was the center of a mob of women all bent, it seemed, on his destruction. He fought at first as gently as he could. But as some of the stones hit and some of the clubs struck vulnerable parts of his anatomy, he fought with less gentleness. Finally, he was forced to club one of the women with his fist. She went flying backward and landed flat on her back.

  * * * * *

  Instantly the attack ceased.

  He watched them move away from him and wondered why. His question was answered as the woman he had struck crawled to him and embraced his legs. He tried to withdraw her hands but she held only tighter and said:

  "We are mated. You made the choice. I am Sala...."

  "You'r
e nuts!" Allerdyce said sharply. He turned to call the guards to help him with the woman when he discovered that they were gone.

  "Are customs different in your tribe?" Sala asked. "Do you not mate with a woman in this manner?"

  The beginning of a hope came to him in a rush as he realized the consequences of what had happened. He was free now. He tried to put the proper authority in his voice, when he said:

  "Go woman! Find me a corner and bring me food...."

  Without the slightest hesitation Sala rose and trotted to a far corner of the cave. Allerdyce followed and squatted beside her. He had always been a shy man and had never known many women, especially women with as little clothes as Sala wore. She was beautiful by any standard he thought. But only for a moment. His thoughts for the first time centered on his predicament.

  His mind allowed for but a single conclusion. That the plane had run into a time-fault and that he and Ed Finster had been drawn into it. The others must have died in the plane crash. Since the giant ship was over the Atlantic at the time of the crash it was reasonable to assume that time only was involved and not space. Therefore, by the same line of reasoning, he and Ed were to be here for the rest of their lives. That is unless somehow they found the same fault again. But that was not probable, he realized.

  For a moment fear lay heavy on him. Then the scientist came uppermost. What an opportunity he had. A man of science among these children. The chance to build a civilization. It could be done with his knowledge. But first he had to get the power over these people.

  Sala came back just then with what looked like the leg of a rabbit. It was very underdone but Allerdyce didn't quibble. If he were going to live as they did then he might as well start right there.

  * * * * *

  Three days went by and nothing changed. He learned all about his mate. She had been one of Ugg's tribe. Now she was part of the tribe of Gomar. It was that simple. She was a tigress when she thought another woman was even looking at her mate and fought with the savagery of a beast for him. And he had been granted his freedom with his acquisition of a mate. He learned to hunt as the others did, with spear and club. But already he had fashioned his first bow and arrow, and knew it would be a matter of time before he was taught the rest. There was but one fly in the ointment, Ed Finster. As yet he had no mate. And he looked with avaricious eyes on Sala.

  It was on the fourth day.

  Allerdyce had returned from the hunt. He had killed an animal with his arrow and the tribe looked on him with respect. As he neared his cave he heard shrieks of pain and anger. And as he watched with amazement, Ed Finster appeared, dragging Sala by her hair. His action was instinctive. Rushing forward, he threw his bow to one side and knocked Ed to the ground.

  Immediately a circle of warriors were drawn about the two men and Gomar stepped forward.

  "It is time," he said. "I have wondered about this. A combat of arms will settle it. Whoever wins will have the woman ... and his freedom."

  As they stood facing each other, Finster turned aside as though to say something to Gomar. Allerdyce relaxed naturally. But Finster had done it with that view in mind. Like a flash he whirled on Allerdyce and grabbed a headlock. It would have ended right then had not both men been barefoot. For Allerdyce had not stiffened his neck muscles. But Finster stepped on a thorn and the shock made him loosen his grip for an instant. It was enough for Allerdyce to break free.

  There were no more surprises.

  Bit by bit Allerdyce wore the other down. At last he straddled Finster, who lay face down on the ground. Then Allerdyce grabbed the other by the shock of black hair, pulled his neck up until he could get his arm under it. Then slowly, using all his strength, Allerdyce pulled back until after a moment there was a sharp crack. Finister would be no more trouble.

  Algernon Allerdyce rose and throwing his head back let out a bellow of triumph, and knew then he was no longer Algernon Allerdyce. He was in fact Oogie the Caveman, replete with wife. For Sala had been the first to rush to his side. And as he threw his arms around her he knew love had come to him. She was his and woe betide the one who tried to take her from him.

  But when Gomar stepped to his side and asked:

  "This sliver of wood you made and the bow of elk thong.... Could you make another for me...?" Oogie the Caveman knew his life had begun in earnest....

  THE END

  * * *

  Contents

  BREEDER REACTION

  By Winston Marks

  The remarkable thing about Atummyc Afterbath Dusting Powder was that it gave you that lovely, radiant, atomic look--just the way the advertisements said it would. In fact, it also gave you a little something more!

  The advertising game is not as cut and dried as many people think. Sometimes you spend a million dollars and get no results, and then some little low-budget campaign will catch the public's fancy and walk away with merchandising honors of the year.

  Let me sound a warning, however. When this happens, watch out! There's always a reason for it, and it isn't always just a matter of bright slogans and semantic genius. Sometimes the product itself does the trick. And when this happens people in the industry lose their heads trying to capitalize on the "freak" good fortune.

  This can lead to disaster. May I cite one example?

  I was on loan to Elaine Templeton, Inc., the big cosmetics firm, when one of these "prairie fires" took off and, as product engineer from the firm of Bailey Hazlitt & Persons, Advertising Agency, I figured I had struck pure gold. My assay was wrong. It was fool's gold on a pool of quicksand.

  Madame "Elaine", herself, had called me in for consultation on a huge lipstick campaign she was planning--you know, NOW AT LAST, A TRULY KISS-PROOF LIPSTICK!--the sort of thing they pull every so often to get the ladies to chuck their old lip-goo and invest in the current dream of non-smearability. It's an old gimmick, and the new product is never actually kiss-proof, but they come closer each year, and the gals tumble for it every time.

  Well, they wanted my advice on a lot of details such as optimum shades, a new name, size, shape and design of container. And they were ready to spend a hunk of moolah on the build-up. You see, when they give a product a first-class advertising ride they don't figure on necessarily showing a profit on that particular item. If they break even they figure they are ahead of the game, because the true purpose is to build up the brand name. You get enough women raving over the new Elaine Templeton lipstick, and first thing you know sales start climbing on the whole line of assorted aids to seduction.

  Since E. T., Inc., was one of our better accounts, the old man told me to take as long as was needed, so I moved in to my assigned office, in the twelve-story E. T. building, secretary, Scotch supply, ice-bags, ulcer pills and all, and went to work setting up my survey staff. This product engineering is a matter of "cut and try" in some fields. You get some ideas, knock together some samples, try them on the public with a staff of interviewers, tabulate the results, draw your conclusions and hand them over to Production with a prayer. If your ad budget is large enough your prayer is usually answered, because the American Public buys principally on the "we know what we like, and we like what we know" principle. Make them "know it" and they'll buy it. Maybe in love, absence makes the heart grow fonder, but in this business, familiarity breeds nothing but sales.

  Madame Elaine had a fair staff of idea boys, herself. In fact, every other department head had some gimmick he was trying to push to get personal recognition. The Old Hag liked this spirit of initiative and made it plain to me I was to give everyone a thorough hearing.

  This is one of the crosses you have to bear. Everyone but the janitor was swarming into my office with suggestions, and more than half of them had nothing to do with the lipstick campaign at all. So I dutifully listened to each one, had my girl take impressive notes and then lifted my left or my right eyebrow at her. My left eyebrow meant file them in the wastebasket. This is how the Atummyc Afterbath Dusting Powder got lost in the shuffle, and later
I was credited with launching a new item on which I didn't even have a record.

  It came about this way:

  * * * * *

  Just before lunch one day, one of the Old Hag's promotion-minded pixies flounced her fanny into my interview chair, crossed her knees up to her navel and began selling me her pet project. She was a relative of the Madame as well as a department head, so I had to listen.

  Her idea was corny--a new dusting powder with "Atummion" added, to be called, "Atummyc Afterbath Dusting Powder"--"Atummyc", of course, being a far-fetched play on the word "atomic". What delighted her especially was that the intimate, meaningful word "tummy" occurred in her coined trade name, and this was supposed to do wonders in stimulating the imaginations of the young females of man-catching-age.

  [Illustration]

  As I said, the idea was corny. But the little hazel-eyed pixie was not. She was about 24, black-haired, small-waisted and bubbling with hormones. With her shapely knees and low-cut neckline she was a pleasant change of scenery from the procession of self-seeking middle-agers I had been interviewing--not that her motive was any different.

  I stalled a little to feast my eyes. "This Atummion Added item," I said, "just what is Atummion?"

  "That's my secret," she said, squinching her eyes at me like a fun-loving little cobra. "My brother is assistant head chemist, and he's worked up a formula of fission products we got from the Atomic Energy Commission for experimentation."

  "Fission products!" I said. "That stuff's dangerous!"

  "Not this formula," she assured me. "Bob says there's hardly any radiation to it at all. Perfectly harmless."

  "Then what's it supposed to do?" I inquired naively.

  She stood up, placed one hand on her stomach and the other behind her head, wiggled and stretched. "Atummyc Bath Powder will give milady that wonderful, vibrant, atomic feeling," she announced in a voice dripping with innuendo.