He got back on his bicycle and pedaled off.
The next person or whatever it was that Avery met in his dream was a beautiful young girl dressed all in white, riding in a coach pulled by four giant frogs. The coach came to a stop beside Avery. The young girl unrolled the window and leaned out.
“Mi,” she said.
“Who’re you?” Avery asked.
“I’m Cinderella.”
“And who are these guys pulling your coach?”
“They’re frogs.”
“Big ones,” Avery commented.
“This coach is heavier than it looks,” she told him. Avery didn’t remember any version of the Cinderella story in which she went anywhere in a coach pulled by giant frogs. He wanted to tell her so, but she interrupted him.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a cigarette, would you?”
“I think I’m fresh out,” Avery said. But when he looked at his pack, there was one cigarette left, bent but still usable. He lit it and handed it to her.
“Thanks a lot,” Cinderella said. “They told me you’d be here.”
“Me?”
“Well, someone like you. Someone who would hand out the last artifact of dear old Earth.”
“A cigarette? That’s the last artifact?”
“Sure. There’ll be no smoking where I’m going.”
“I suppose you’re going to the Moon?”
“You suppose correctly.”
“I may be along myself one of these days.”
“I doubt that.”
“Why?”
“Because your job is to stand here and hand out cigarettes.”
She made a clucking sound, and the frogs leaned into the harness. The coach mounted into the air. In a little while she was gone.
“I wish I knew what was going on,” Avery said to himself.
Someone must have been listening, because a voice behind him said, “That’s the problem with you Earth people. You always want to know what’s going on, and that prevents you from ever knowing anything important.”
Avery turned and saw a man in a cutaway coat and tight trousers with a tall hat on his head. He had a turnip-shaped watch in his hand and was peering at it nervously. Avery recognized him at once from the famous drawings by—was it Tenniel? The Mad Hatter was muttering, “Oh, my, I’ll be late.”
“Where are you off to?” Avery asked.
The Mad Hatter stopped, blinked, looked at Avery with a puzzled gaze, then his expression brightened and he said, “I know who you are!”
“Who am I?” Avery asked.
“You’re the Cigarette Guy, that’s who! Got one for me?”
“Just ran out,” Avery said.
“Check and see,” the Mad Hatter suggested.
Avery looked in his pack and found a cigarette where he had been sure there’d been none before.
“That’s impossible,” he said. “In fact, this whole thing is impossible. What’s happening?”
“Where?” the Mad Hatter said.
“What’s happening to me?” Avery said.
“You’ve been selected,” the Mad Hatter said.
“To do what?”
“To hand out the party favors.”
“You mean these?” Avery said, holding up his crumpled pack.
“Of course. You’re supposed to give one of them to each of us as we leave Earth, it’s going to be a long time between smokes.”
“Are you going to the Moon, too?”
“Where else?”
“Can’t you get any cigarettes there?”
“Afraid not. No atmosphere, you know.”
Avery nodded as if that was the most reasonable statement in the world.
“But why am I here?”
“Hey,” the Hatter said, “somebody’s got to do it.”
“I don’t see why.”
“It’s a little nicety. A sort of farewell gesture. The powers that be arranged it. Nice of them, don’t you think? The last cigarette is a sort of souvenir. Something to remember Earth by. It’s the perfect symbol of man’s greatest invention.”
“And what would that be?”
“Something desirable that’s not good for you.” Avery lighted the cigarette for the Mad Hatter and waited until the top-hatted figure was puffing contentedly.
Then he said, “Are there a lot more of you?”
“Oh, quite a few,” the Hatter said.
“You realize, of course, that you’re purely imaginary.”
“Of course. And you realize, I hope, that only the imaginary counts.”
Avery looked, and he saw a great line of creatures extending along the road beyond his vision. He could make out a few of them. There was the Cowardly Lion, and he was talking with someone who was probably Hercules, to judge by his lion skin and club.
Behind him was Little Bo Peep, and behind her was a young boy in lederhosen who might have been Hansel, followed closely by a dirndled girl who was probably Gretel. The line stretched away into the unfathomable distance.
Avery wrenched his gaze away. “What’s going on here?”
“We’re leaving.”
“All of you?”
The Mad Hatter nodded. “All of us imaginary constructs who are mankind’s only reality.”
“Where are you going?”
“To the Moon!”
“But why are you leaving the Earth?”
“There’s no place for us here anymore.”
“But how could that be? People will always want imaginary creatures.”
“There won’t be people here much longer to want us. When the people have to leave a place, their dreams leave first.”
“I don’t understand what’s going on. And anyhow, what makes you think the Moon will be any better?”
“That’s too many questions,” the Mad Hatter said. “You’ll have to find the answers yourself. I suggest you consult the spirit of Christmas to Come.”
And the Mad Hatter hurried off, puffing his cigarette and skipping lightly into the air, where he continued climbing until he could no longer be seen.
The next person was a young boy. He had no distinguishing characteristics, but Avery thought he knew who he was anyway.
“You’re the spirit of Christmas to Come?”
“You got it!” the boy said. “Could I have a cigarette, please?”
“You’re too young to smoke.”
“It’s just symbolic smoking,” the boy said. “I don’t really inhale.”
Avery was used now to finding a final cigarette in his pack. He lighted it and gave it to the boy. “Thanks,” the boy said. “I needed that.”
“Glad to oblige,” Avery said. “But what I want from you in return is an idea of what Christmas to come will look like.”
“You won’t like it,” the boy said.
“Show it to me anyhow.”
The boy made a gesture in the air, and Avery found himself in space looking down at the Earth. At least, he assumed it was the Earth. It looked nothing like the pictures he had seen of his home planet. This Earth was not green or blue. It was the silvery color of the Moon, white, bare, and it glittered. There was a narrow wavering band around its middle. That band was colored black.
“That’s really the Earth?” Avery asked.
“That’s it,” the boy said.
“What happened to it?”
“It turned into what you see.”
“That white stuff. Is that ice?”
“Yes, and snow.”
“And that black line around it?”
“That’s the equator. The ice hasn’t reached quite that far. Not that that helps. No one lives in the place any more,”
“What about the human race?”
“They had to abandon the planet, move to the Moon. Those who were able. That’s why all of us imaginary beings left. With the people gone, there were no imaginations left to conceive of us. Mankind had no more use for imagination when the ice came. It came very rapidly, you know.”
&n
bsp; Avery stared dumbly at the frozen snowball Earth. A great sorrow came up in him, a sorrow at the lost hopes, the lost chances, the end of it all, and the pity of it all.
“So it’s all over,” Avery mumbled. “And I alone remain.”
“No, you silly man, you don’t remain either. Here in your dream you hand out the cigarettes, but in actual fact you won’t be here.”
“Where will I be?”
“Up there, if you’re one of the lucky few.” The boy pointed. Avery looked, and he saw the Moon. But it was not the Moon remembered. It was the Moon of time to come. It was green, and it shimmered with a nimbus of atmosphere.
“That’s where we all are now,” the boys said. “On the Moon, our refuge from the frozen Earth.”
“Thank God we made it!” Avery said.
“Only a few of you,” the boy said. “Only a few people, that is. Scientists were able to give it an atmosphere. You’ll have to ask them how they did it. What really counts is that we constructs of the imagination are all alive and well.”
Avery stared dumbly at the Moon, then at the frozen Earth. In his dream, he could take in both of them at a glance.
“So it’s all gone,” he said. “All the nations.”
“Oh, the nations are all right,” the boy said.
“How can that be?”
“One of the last things the survivors did before leaving was to draw up maps. There are accurate maps now of exactly where all the countries were. The survivors will be able to go back, repopulate the planet again.”
“Again?”
“In a couple of hundred million years, or whenever the ice melts. You don’t think this is the first time this has happened, do you?”
“It has happened before?”
“Oh, yes. But this is the first time they have the maps. They’ll be able to put it all back together. America. Namibia. Albania. They’re all there under the ice.”
Somehow, Avery didn’t find that a consoling thought.
The boy took a final drag on his cigarette and threw it down. “Well, it’s been nice talking to you. See you on the other side.” And then he left, too, the last of the imaginary creatures of Earth, fleeing a place where ice had taken the place of imagination.
Late in the morning, when Avery came downstairs, McDougald asked him, “What happened? Did you have a dream?”
Avery nodded cheerfully. He had awakened early in the morning and started working on his electronic keyboard. The song was complete, just a few touches to change when he got to a real piano. But he had it. At last he had his lead song, the show opener and closer. “The Moon is Green.” It would be a sensation. That was really all that counted.
KENNY
Robert Sheckley made his first appearance in these pages with “The Monsters” in March of 1953. His most recent story here was “Deep Blue Sleep” in June and we can look forward to more of Mr. Sheckley’s unpredictable tales in times to come.
KENNY AND THE REST OF The People were in the hold of the spaceship as it continued its interminable trip through space. There were about a hundred of The People lying naked together in a big tangled mass in the ship’s hold. This was not due to lack of room, however: the hold was immense. When there was nothing else to do, The People liked being all crowded together, deliciously sprawled on top of one another. They liked this more than reading or playing computer games—skills they had learned, laboriously and tentatively, from The Masters. They preferred to lie coiled together, erogenous areas sometimes delightfully touching, sometimes delightfully almost touching.
Apart from eating, sleeping, and eliminating, they had been lying in this tangle since the nearly forgotten day when The Masters had led them aboard the ship.
But now something had changed. Kenny raised his head. “I sense something!” he cried.
The others looked up and tuned in. Kenny was the one who usually detected things first. But now they all sensed it.
“Yes! What is it?”
“It’s a planet! I sense a planet!”
Planetfall, at last! Just as the Masters had promised!
In a flash, The People were lifted from their erotic somnolence. The pleasures of their long idleness forgotten, they untangled themselves, got up, began jumping around and jabbering at each other. A planet, at last! The end of their long wait, the end of the endless journey! Now they could all sense the new place, looming up ahead of them in the sterile darkness of space.
Kenny said, “I must go to the Captain! I must find out when we are to start exploring!
The others nodded. It hadn’t occurred to them to visit the Captain. They thought the Captain would come to them when he decided to, when he had finished doing his other, more important things. But of course, Kenny was right.
Kenny was a tall, lean, brownish-red Person in the prime of life. He undogged the hatch and went out into the corridor. It was a long corridor with even lighting. There were signs pointing in the direction of officers’ country. Kenny started out walking, but soon he was trotting, then running, because the great day was finally here.
He went to an elevator, pushed a button, and waited, dancing up and down with anticipation. The doors opened. Kenny hesitated a moment, wondering if he should have put on clothing before visiting the Captain. But no one had told him he had to. The People didn’t bother wearing clothing. Not without a reason. And aboard the ship, with its even temperature, there seemed no reason for it.
One more corridor, and then he was at the door leading into Master’s Country. Kenny paused, took a deep breath—this was a big moment—then opened the door and walked in. It only occurred to him later that perhaps he should have knocked first.
There was the Captain and the other ship’s officers, sitting in front of their screens. At first no one noticed Kenny, so engrossed were they. They were playing one of the computer games that had been the rage back on their home planet. Kenny stood in the room waiting to be recognized.
Through the main port he could see the planet, green and blue, coming up ahead of them. Automatics were bringing the ship to a safe landing. But still no one paid any attention. Until Kenny finally said, “Hey, doesn’t someone want me to do something?”
“What?” The Captain was a short, pale, skinny Master, with a big head and large pop-eyes. He looked up, blinking. During the game, he had been practicing one of the narrowing trances, and it had been going very well. Regretfully he let his consciousness swim back to the surface of now, the unremitting now, the eternally disappointing now.
“We’ve arrived at the new place,” Kenny said.
The Captain glanced at his instruments, then out the port. “Yes, so we have.”
“In fact, we have landed.”
“That’s the usual procedure,” the Captain said.
“I think it’s customary now for the exploring phase to begin.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know, sir. The purpose of our mission. To find out if this planet will support life-forms of The People and The Masters.”
“Ah, yes,” the Captain said. “The purpose of it all. I had forgotten for the moment. These great conceptions get lost in the facticity of the moment. Exploring a new planet! Of course! How important! And yet, how droll, when you come to think of it.”
The Captain turned to the other crew members sprawled on the deceleration couches. “Mandragan! Dexter! We’re here!”
Mandragan was short and pale and skinny. He had a big head, like the Captain. He stirred sleepily. “I was having such a wonderful dream! Must we do this now?”
“Dreams later,” the Captain said. “Now it is time for exploring.”
Dexter, the observer, was a little taller than either the Captain or Mandragan, but he looked a lot like them.
Mandragan said, “Lot of nonsense, if you ask me. New worlds, indeed! Isn’t it obvious that real exploration is into the wonder of ourselves, rather than into the banalities of the external?
The Captain said, “Very true! But we m
ust abandon the delights of introspection and discursive philosophy and attend to the moment. Gentlemen, we are here!”
Kenny cried, “Hurray!” and did a standing somersault, landing on his feet.
The Captain said, “Kenny, what was that all about?”
“An expression of pleasure, Master.”
“I don’t remember anyone programming you for that.”
“It was spontaneous, Master. An expression of my pleasure at being on this long-awaited planet. Can The People go out and explore now?”
“I suppose it’s what we came for,” the Captain said.
Dexter had taken out his pad and stylus and was busy recording the moment. He looked up. “By the way, does this planet have one or two suns? I forgot to check as we came in. Though I suppose I could look now.”
“Don’t bother,” The Captain said. “Kenny and the other People are going out there. They will look for us. Won’t you, Kenny?”
“I’m eager to start exploring,” Kenny said.
“Of course you are,” the Captain said, his tone condescending. “But that’s what we created The People for, isn’t it?”
“So I have been told, Master,” Kenny said.
KENNY LEFT to collect the rest of The People.
Dexter said to the Captain, “So here we are, spreading human life to the stars. Quite a moment.”
“I suppose so,” the Captain said. “For those who are moved by such things. Back in the old, naive days, there were some who believed that the purpose of life was the mere perpetuation and continuation of life. They used to get all misty-eyed at the idea of spreading human life to distant planets. They could think of no greater purpose than to extend their species to some other planet, perhaps one with two suns. Do you think that’s what it’s all about, Dexter?”
“I believe it has something to do with spreading intelligence throughout the universe,” Dexter said.
The Captain smiled. “That’s what you and I are about, Dexter. We are the representatives of intelligence. And the purpose of intelligence is to develop to the point of putting itself out of business.”
Kenny and the other People came racing down the gangplank and onto the surface of the new planet. They paused a moment to sniff the air and taste the soil. It didn’t kill them so they started running toward a nearby forest. They were a stream of people, large and robust, and variously colored white, red, black, yellow and brown, running upright for the most part although a few went on all fours.
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