ment. It wasn’t bare, but it wasn’t lived in yet
“I did the job you hired me to do. You said
either. I turned around to face him. “The
after I found the murderer, I’d know what to
surgery went okay?”
do. You were right. I do know what to do. Do
He shrugged. He looked tired. “I’m still ad-
you want me to do it?”
justing.” Then, “Where did I screw up?”
“Tell me more.”
“At the beginning.”
“The expansion is going to be approved. It’s
“Is it a long story?”
going to be a very large expansion. Good for
“No.”
some. Bad for others. The horizontal and ver-
He looked disappointed. “You want some-
tical equators are going to cut through some
thing to drink?”
valuable territory. The value of land bordering
“I’m fine,” I said.
the new equators is going to go up. But the
He went to the bar anyway, picked up the
value of certain other parcels divided by the
ENDLESS CITY
131
ANALOG
equators will collapse. Even if all the petitions
“No, I’m not. I’m just faster. I don’t have to
for adjustments are approved, it’s still going to
take as many meetings to explain what I’m do-
be ugly. Some people are going to make a lot
ing. Whoever is searching for you probably
of money. Others are going to lose a lot.”
has to report to a committee. The committee
“Every screwhead on the street knows that.
has to argue for a while before approving the
They’re all scrambling for advantage. Tell me
next step. That’s why you’re still alive. Shall
something I don’t know.”
we go?”
“You have pro-rata shares in more than a
“Huh?”
thousand cyber-properties, spread across a
“You’re not safe here. If I could find you, a
hundred different holding companies; your
three year old could. It would just take a little
share is funneled through five financial instru-
longer. Now—seven—let’s go. I assume you
ments, of which you’ve only been tapping
have your next hideout prepared? We’ll start
two. You’ve been keeping a very low prof ile
there, just long enough to muddy the trail,
for a long time—probably because if you die,
then I’ll take you through the labyrinth. That’ll
some other people’s shares will increase. In
buy us time for what comes next—the messy
most cases, only a point or two. But in a cou-
part.”
ple of other cases, as much as 20 percent will
There were two golems in the hall. I burned
be divided among the survivors. Enough to
them from behind; I’m not proud, I’m a sur-
make your death a lucrative proposition. Your
vivor. Cobie gave me a look—he didn’t have to
staged death does not alleviate the danger, be-
say it. Where the hell did that come from?
cause you’ve assigned your shares to a new
Your scan came up clean. “Trade secret,” I ex-
holding identity, funneling the dividends
plained.
through another set of instruments until they
And we were off.
finally arrive here. All you’ve done is prolong
This was going to be a bigger job than I ex-
the search and delay the inevitable. Those
pected. I was already counting shekels in my
who want you dead are going to follow the
head. I should be able to make enough to re-
money, just like I did. And . . . my guess is that
tire.
they have access to even more sophisticated
Except guys like me, we don’t retire. We
resources than I do.”
just keep going until the some other guy
“Then why haven’t they found me yet?”
catches up—because that’s how it works in
“Because—” I counted off the reasons for
Endless City. ■
him “—First, they’re trying to f igure out
which of them killed you. It’ll take them two
David Gerrold’s prolific output includes tele-
or maybe three days to convince themselves
plays, film scripts, stage plays, comic books,
that none of them got their hands dirty. Two,
more than 50 novels and anthologies, and hun-
they’re not going to believe it was suicide ei-
dreds of articles, columns, and short stories. He
ther, because—three—as soon as they discov-
worked on Star Trek, Land of the Lost, Twilight
er your shares are not being divided among
Zone, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Babylon 5,
themselves but were presold to a holding
and Sliders . He is the author of Star Trek’s most identity, that will lead them directly to four—
popular episode “The Trouble With Tribbles.”
that you are still alive and hiding out, at which
Many of his novels are classics of the science fic-
point, five, they will start searching in earnest.
tion genre, including The Man Who Folded Him-
This is clever—plugging into your own securi-
self and When HARLIE Was One. A ten-time
ty, you’ve been able to watch every stage of
Hugo and Nebula award nominee, David Ger-
the investigation. But; as clever as you are—
rold also recieved the Skylark Award for Excel-
six—guys like me do this for a living. We
lence in Imaginative Fiction, the Bram Stoker
know all the tricks, usually because we invent-
Award for Superior Achievement in Horror, and
ed most of them ourselves.”
the Forrest J. Ackerman lifetime achievement
“How long do I have?”
award. The semi-autobiographical tale of his
“I got in, didn’t I? If they’re not already land-
son's adoption, “The Martian Child" won both
ing on the roof, they will be sometime in the
the Hugo and the Nebula awards, and was the
next three days. They’re not stupid.”
basis for the 2007 movie starring John Cusack
“But you’re smarter?”
and Amanda Peet.
132
DAVID GERROLD
Illustrated by Kevin Speidell
When the
Aliens Stop
to Bottle
Ian Watson
s per the surrender agree-
while they stop to bottle.”
ment—”
And now a breathing out, out, as if to be
The announcement booms
any place away from here. The only sensible
“Aover the railway station’s PA, and course is to catch a train home when services a ripple runs through the dense queues, along
resume, but a few people near us quit the
with a collective breathing in as if to minimize
queues to f lee from the station, to take their
one’s presence.
chance. Find a pub, if one’s open with any
“—the Invaders are distributing food
beer or sp
irits. Supplies of food and drink are
WHEN THE ALIENS STOP TO BOTTLE
133
ANALOG
patchy these days. After closing time, hunch
her breast. A comfy word, completely un-
in a doorway or hide in some multistorey till
threatening.
it’s time to return to work because normality
The way the aliens feed too. Sucking from
must continue. No camping out in the office,
big bottles of creamy goo, held in a conve-
by order! Patrols enforce this. Transport must
nient tentacle. Imagine a Special Forces sol-
f low like blood round a bloodstream. As per
dier pausing in combat to glug on a baby bot-
the surrender agreement. It’s as though our
tle; kind of endearing, hmm?
nationwide train-set and road-set amuses the
What combat, anyway? The world surren-
Invaders. Who knows what the Invaders feel?
dered, apart from North Korea which isn’t
Does our puppet government know, or does it
north any longer; reportedly South Korea fits
simply obey?
up against China now.
The information screens haven’t refreshed
And also: to put into a bottle. The aliens
for f ifteen minutes. The only lights are those
carry collecting bottles, into which they pop
of the screens and the exit signs; we need to
people.
limit our power use.
Ah, now the nearest screen shows a plat-
“Can’t be far off along the lines,” murmurs
form number—our usual platform right here
Toby. “Them. Since no train’s leaving.”
in front of us; that’s a relief. Shouting else-
Exactly. The lines are all blocked before
where, even a shriek or three, but we can’t be
they diverge.
distracted by glancing. Priorities: surge and
In a way, the gloom in the hall is comfort-
squeeze on board.
ing, protective. People’s faces a couple of
queues away are indistinct. Much farther
Standing room only in the carriage. Off we
away, faces are almost invisible.
go slowly.
Again: “As per the surrender agreement the
“Shall we have spaghetti pesto tonight?” I
Incomers are distributing food to the human
ask Toby.
population while they stop to bottle. Please
“If the power’s on. Cold pesto sandwich,
stay in orderly lines and be patient.”
no. How about corned beef and apple, as
I dig Toby in the ribs. “Hang on! Invaders
back-up?”
has changed to Incomers.”
“Sulphur burps, afterward.” I snuggle up,
“Um, are you sure?”
unavoidable in this crush of commuters.
“Course I’m sure.”
“Feeling amorous, eh Jen?”
Tiredly, “What difference does it make?”
Sure, let us rut and maybe multiply, in in-
“Incomers is blander and softer—yet it isn’t
stinctive reaction to a possible threat of ex-
your usual sort of word, unless you’ve been
tinction. “Amorous,” hmm. Feel like a fuck? is-
prepped by hearing Invaders previously.
n’t his style.
We’re being manipulated. But by govern-
Click-clack, click-clack, train’s wheels cross-
ment—or by Them?”
ing some points. Reminds me of a funfair car
“My paranoid Jenny.” Toby squeezes my el-
ratcheting up a roller-coaster preparatory to
bow affectionately through my raincoat.
the downhill drop. Nearby, a tall brick wall
“Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue by the
covered with graffiti. Sky above is deep grey.
PA announcer.”
Our salubrious tiny town, or overgrown vil-
“Governments wish to stay in power. If we
lage, is twenty miles upline from the city’s
don’t remember things clearly, we become ac-
north. Toby and I work in advertising—same
customed to what was unacceptable not long
big off ice—so I’m sensitive to slogans and
ago.”
catchwords. More sensitive than Toby, I fre-
Shrugging, “Our nuclear weapons didn’t ex-
quently feel, even though he pockets 17 per-
plode. All our missiles imploded. Apparently.”
cent more than me. Incomers instead of In-
Such are the powers that They deploy. And
vaders— I noticed that . No resentment, yet we aren’t being exterminated—not to any
though. Or not much. That’s the way things
significant extent.
are. I love Tobe. I think.
Toby’s still tinkering around with the Fly Me
Bottle bottle bottle.
To the Moon account. Fat chance of more sub-
How a baby feeds unless Mummy is offering
orbital f lights now. We were all so taken by
134
IAN WATSON
JANUARY/FEBRUARY 2018
surprise. But work goes on, as government in-
A few tracks away, another escaping out-
sists should be so. Dignity. Aliens might re-
bound train begins to overtake us, but then it
assess our status. An anthill goes beserk when
slows. All of a sudden half a dozen alien militia
a boot stomps it, but we aren’t ants. Our mis-
f inish their bottling, brandish their multipur-
siles imploded away to some place else.
pose superwands, and f loat from their ports
Maybe “place” isn’t the best way to put it. All
toward the other train, now at a standstill.
language is laced with metaphors.
“What the hell are they up to, Jen? Aren’t us
Me, I’m putting finishing touches to Amaz-
commuters safe any more?”
ing Albania! including an exclamation mark.
As if in answer, our own train lurches for-
Without an exclamation mark might seem a
ward, wheels squealing. Our driver is pushing
bit banal, unlike that nation’s majestic snow-
his locomotive as though struggling through
capped peaks. Do hasten to Theth for sublime
treacle. Pretty much in vain.
unspoiled romantic charm beyond compare,
We can see how jam-packed that other train
by way of the hard-top (wow) road from en-
is, worse than our own. If this were India, a
chanting spruced-up Shkodra with its Rozafa
hundred passengers might also be squatting
fortress.
along the carriage roofs. Easy pickings. Don’t
At this early point in our homeward jour-
think that.
ney, twenty or so railway tracks run parallel,
I can’t fully see what happens along the far
many of them leading into sidings. Up ahead,
side of the other train, but now each floating
a huge mobile unit of the Incomers looms like
Incomer holds aloft a long window plucked
a cubist dirigible mated with a battle tank, un-
loose from its frame. Away f ly the windows,
moving for now. Its crew lean out of rubbery
glassy sledges bouncing over rails
before shat-
ports, octopuslike creatures the size of cows,
tering.
some sucking on f lexible bottles. Others
Passengers fly, plucked from the pack with-
squeeze their bottles, jetting goo to and fro.
in. Do the Incomer militia think they’re saving
Where goo settles, it f irms into “sponges”—
people from suffocation? Is some alien by-law
those are what the accompanying crowd of
being violated? There’ll be bad bruising for
alien-chasing trespassers want: delicious,
sure if not broken limbs, cracked backs, skull
nourishing, mildly addictive. Orange lights flit
fractures.
around. We slow, we slow.
The train driver descends on our side from
From high up on the mantle of the mobile
his cab, marches around the front of his loco-
unit juts a larger specialized collector creature,
motive, and waves his arms, as I can just bare-
its suckers clutching a bigger kind of bottle
ly see. Can’t hear what he’s shouting—too
with a wide and open top.
much babbling from our travel companions.
“Look, Tobe—”
“Brave fellow, he must be incensed,” says
The collector-arm is more like a chamelion’s
Toby. “Would you protest like that?”
tongue —coiled tensely, quivering in a
What would I do? What would Tobe do?
preparatory way, then flying far to its full ex-
Tobe would not become incensed. Is bravery
tent, catching a sponger around the chest,
dependent upon taking leave of one’s senses?
whiplashing back again carrying the young
Oh God, the creature on top of the giant
scavenger woman with it. A Sponger. How
mobile unit f licks out its special arm, ultra-
convenient, this term.
long, and collects the driver, legs waggling,
“Bottle is better than Battle”—that works
arms f lailing. Into the bottle goes Mr. Driver.
for us anglos. Who knows what the slogan is
Full enough now, the bottle slides inside the
in hungry Hungary or Albania.
rubbery port, three human sausages inside it.
The bottle already contains a raggy old man,
Leaving a driverless train. Other alien octo-
suspended inertly. Into the bottle pops the
pus militia float over fast, and the team begin
struggling young Sponger; she goes slack.
evacuating the stalled train in earnest. How
The Incomers have assured us via our pup-
can they make such a mistake! Is it a mistake
pet rulers that there’s no link between human
at all?
specimens in bottles and bottled goo. There
Analog Science Fiction and Fact Page 37