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Elegy

Page 4

by Charles Beaumont

been deadfor ages. So, why the display of interest in our explanations, why--"

  The faint murmur, "A good machine checks and double checks," could beheard from Mr. Greypoole, who otherwise said nothing.

  "I speak for my men: we're confused, terribly confused. But whateverthis is, we're stuck, can't you see? All we want is a place to beginagain--" Captain Webber paused, looked at the others and went on in asofter tone. "We're tired men, Mr. Greypoole; we're poorly equipped, butwe do have weapons and if this is some hypnotic kind of trap...."

  The little man waved his hand, offendedly.

  "There are lakes and farms and all we need to make a new start--morethan we'd hoped for, much more."

  "What _had_ you hoped for, Captain?"

  "Something. Nothing. Just escape--"

  "But I see no women--how could you begin again, as you suggest?"

  "Women? Too weak; they would not have lasted. We brought along eggs andmachines--enough for our needs."

  Mr. Greypoole clucked his tongue. "Mr. Waldmeyer certainly did lookahead," he muttered, "he certainly _did_."

  "Will we be honest now? Will you help us?"

  "Yes, Captain, I will help you. Let us go back to your rocket." Mr.Greypoole smiled. "Things will be better there."

  Captain Webber signaled. They left the building and walked by the footof a white mountain.

  * * * * *

  They passed a garden with little spotted trees and flowers, a browndesert of shifting sands and a striped tent; they walked by strawberryfields and airplane hangars and coal mines; tiny yellow cottages,cramped apartments, fluted houses and Tudor houses and houses withoutdescription....

  Past rock pools and a great zoo full of animals that stared out ofvacant eyes; and everywhere, the seasons changing gently: crisp autumn,cottony summer, windy spring and winters cool and white....

  The six men in uniforms followed the little man with the thin hair. Theydid not speak as they walked, but looked around, stared, craned,wondered....

  And the old, young, middle-aged, white, brown, yellow people who did notmove wondered back at the men with their eyes....

  "You see, Captain, the success of Mr. Waldmeyer's plan?"

  Captain Webber rubbed his cheek.

  "I don't understand," he said.

  "But you do see, all of you, the perfection here, the quality of EternalHappiness which the circular speaks of?"

  "Yes ... we see that."

  "Here we have happiness and brotherhood, here there have never been warsor hatreds or prejudices. And now you who were many and left Earth toescape war and hatred, who were many by your own word and are now onlysix, you want to begin life _here_?"

  Cross-breezes ruffled the men's hair.

  "To _begin_, when from the moment of your departure you had wars of yourown, and killed, and hurled mocking prejudice against a race of peoplenot like you, a race who rejected and cast you out into space again!From your own account! No gentlemen, I am truly sorry. It may be that Imisjudged those of you who are left, or rather, that Happy Gladesmisjudged you. You may mean well, after all--and, of course, thelocation of this asteroid was so planned by the Board as to be unchartedforever. But--oh, I am sorry." Mr. Greypoole sighed.

  "What does he mean by that?" asked Mr. Friden and Lieutenant Peterson.

  Captain Webber was gazing at a herd of cows in the distance.

  "What do you mean, you're 'sorry'?" demanded Mr. Friden.

  "Well...."

  "Captain Webber!" cried Mr. Chitterwick, blinking.

  "Yes, yes?"

  "I feel queer."

  Mr. Goeblin clutched at his stomach.

  "So do I!"

  "And me!"

  Captain Webber looked back at the fields, then at Mr. Greypoole. Hismouth twitched in sudden pain.

  "We feel awful, Captain!"

  "I'm sorry, gentlemen. Follow me to your ship, quickly." Mr. Greypoolemotioned curiously with his hands and began to step briskly.

  * * * * *

  They circled a small pond where a motionless boy strained toe-high on anextended board. And the day once again turned to night as they hurriedpast a shadowed cathedral.

  When they were in sight of the scorched trees, Mr. Milton doubled up andscreamed.

  "Captain!"

  Mr. Goeblin struck his forehead. "I told you, I told you we shouldn'thave drunk that wine! Didn't I tell you?"

  "It was the wine--and we all drank it. _He_ did it, _he_ poisoned us!"

  "Follow me!" cried Mr. Greypoole, making a hurried gesture and breakinginto a run. "Faster!"

  They stumbled hypnotically through the park, over the Mandarin-bridgesto the rock.

  "Tell them, Captain, tell them to climb the ladder."

  "Go on up, men."

  "But we're poisoned, sir!"

  "_Hurry!_ There's--an antidote in the ship."

  The crew climbed into the ship.

  "Captain," invited Mr. Greypoole.

  Captain Webber ascended jerkily. When he reached the open lock, heturned. His eyes swept over the hills and fields and mountains, over therivers and houses and still people. He coughed and pulled himself intothe rocket.

  Mr. Greypoole followed.

  "You don't dislike this ship, do you--that is, the surroundings are notoffensive?"

  "No; we don't dislike the ship."

  "I am glad of that--if _only_ I had been allowed more latitude! Buteverything functions so well here; no real choice in the matter,actually. No more than the Sealing Film. And they _would_ leave me withthese human emotions! I see, of course, why the communications systemdoesn't work, why my calendar is out of commission. Kind of Mr.Waldmeyer to arrange for them to stop when his worst fears finallymaterialized. Are the men all seated? No, no, they mustn't writhe aboutthe floor like that. Get them to their stations--no, to the stationsthey would most prefer. And hurry!"

  Captain Webber ordered Mr. Chitterwick to the galley, Mr. Goeblin to theengineering chair, Mr. Friden to the navigator's room....

  "Sir, what's going to happen? _Where's the antidote?_"

  Mr. Milton to the pilot's chair....

  "The pain will last only another moment or so--it's unfortunately partof the Eternifier," said Mr. Greypoole. "There, all in order? Good,good. Now, Captain, I see understanding in your face; that pleases memore than I can say. My position is so difficult! But you can see, whena machine is geared to its job--which is to retain permanence on HAPPYGLADES--well, a machine is a machine. Where shall we put _you_?"

  Captain Webber leaned on the arm of the little man and walked to theopen lock.

  "You _do_ understand?" asked Mr. Greypoole.

  Captain Webber's head nodded halfway down, then stopped; and his eyesfroze forever upon the City.

  "A pity...."

  The little man with the thin hair walked about the cabins and rooms,straightening, dusting; he climbed down the ladder, shook his head andstarted down the path to the wooden house.

  When he had washed all the empty glasses and replaced them, he sat downin the large leather chair and adjusted himself into the mostcomfortable position.

  His eyes stared in waxen contentment at the homely interior, with itslavender wallpaper, needle-point tapestries and tidy arrangement.

  He did not move.

 


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