"No," said Peter, shaking his head. "That won't remove the truth of his birth. What must be done is to prevent it in the first place!"
"By going through with it?" snorted Tony.
"We can all hope for a last-minute reprieve," said Peter. "And until we're shotgunned into it, we can always have a double wedding with the cross-couples getting married. Y'see, Hedgerly claimed there hadn't been either a divorce or a death-and-remarriage in the family for generations. Now the thing we gotta do is to get married to whom we want, and the only way we can even come close is to get close enough to a preacher to have him do the job.
All at once and no one first. Finis, conclusion."
Tony nodded slowly. "Me, I've been half-psychopathically afraid of any gentleman of the cloth ever since Hedgerly turned up," he said. "So we can all go and be certain that the other is irreparably and thoroughly committing nonretractable matrimony. Then pooh for Grandson Hedgerly!"
Peter went to the telephone and dialed the number of the private airport. Ten minutes later they were on their way to the port, and when they arrived they looked carefully, but did not see the odious one. They paid no attention to the other plane idling in the background.
* * * *
Hedgerly arrived as they took off into the blue. His plane was waiting, and he leaped in quickly and told the pilot to follow the other plane.
"What's the hurry?" grinned the pilot.
Hedgerly smiled a sly smile. "It's a very long tale," he said. "But the summation of it all is that there are two couples in that ship who intend to get married."
"Double wedding, huh?"
"Right. That's what they intend."
"And are you the irate father, the angry brother, or the jilted lover?" grinned the pilot.
He gunned the engine, and the plane roared down the tarmac and lofted. The pilot wasted no time in following the other plane. When the roar of the engine diminished for flying speed, the pilot turned to Hedgerly, who was obviously waiting for a semblance of silence before he spoke.
"I'm none of those," he said with a smile. "I'm merely a very interested character whose future depends upon seeing the right thing done."
"Such as?"
"Well, Party A wants to marry Party B, while Party X wants to marry Party Y. This must not be. However, it must be that Party A marries Y whilst Party B marries X."
"Clear as a Raymond A. Chandler plot," grinned the pilot.
"Well, they've been trying to outwit me for quite some time," remarked Hedgerly.
"Right at the present time, they're heading for this double wedding. The trouble is that they're so befuddled and worried about doing the wrong thing that they'll pay no attention to what the preacher is saying."
"Who does?" laughed the pilot.
"It would be better for their little plot if they did," said Hedgerly with a sly grin. "For, you see, I'm going to see that the preacher marries the proper parties."
"How?"
"I know how. You see, I've known about this plan of theirs for quite some time. And I know how it will come out. There will be a lot of confusion once this double ceremony is over and they think they're safe. While this confusion is going on, the preacher-man will be filling out the wedding certificates. He will, of course, have forgotten the correct names of the married ones. He will look up--and he will see me. I will tell him that I arrived a little late for the festive event, but can I be of help? Let's not annoy the happy people with details. You're confused? Then permit me to supply the details."
"Yeah?" said the pilot, interested.
"Then I'll supply the necessary details to make certain that the marriage certificate handed to Tony Graydon will state that he is solidly wedded to Joan Willson; conversely, the certificate handed to Peter Hedgerly will irrevocably state that he is to have and to hold until death do him part from Marie Baker.
Quod erat demonstrandum!"
"Think there's a good probability of your getting away with it?"
"An excellent probability," stated Hedgerly. "This, chum, is it!"
* * * *
Hedgerly arrived as the festivities came to a close. Quietly, he slipped into the back door of the cottage and walked through the house until he came to the parson's study. There he waited until the gentleman arrived, and then he said, "I am a relative of one of the fellows involved, sir. I seem to have been late for the big occasion, and I'd rather not interfere right at the present."
The parson looked up and nodded genially. "Not even to kiss the brides?"
"Later," grinned Hedgerly. "Doubtless the brides are being very well kissed right now?"
"Thoroughly. I see your point."
"Yeah," drawled Hedgerly with a smile. "I've often thought it was a strange way to start a fidelitous wedlock--for the bride to go around bestowing kisses on all and sundry males."
"My point exactly. The man to kiss the bride is her new husband and none other. You are a discerning man, sir. I don't know--"
"Hedgerly. A not-too-distant relative of Peter Hedgerly."
"Then you know the names of all of them?"
"Known them for years."
"Fine. Then you can help me with their names. Mind?"
"Not at all," smiled Hedgerly. "They are Peter Hedgerly, Marie Baker, Anthony Graydon, and Joan Willson."
The parson put the names down and then turned to his desk. He picked up a rather heavy script-pen and started to write the names in on the dotted lines in a heavy, ornate script. Finished, he arose and said, "Come on, Mr. Hedgerly." He waved the certificates, saying, "I like to write these things in with a heavy flourish. It seems to give them more color or taste or whatever than merely scrawling the names in common handwriting."
Hedgerly followed at a little distance. He wanted to see Peter's face when the young man read the certificate and found out who he was really married to. Furthermore, Hedgerly wanted to be there to point out who was wedded to whom and why.
Peter accepted the certificate and put his arm around Joan with a fatuous expression. Tony kissed Marie. They all started for the door.
Hedgerly ran forward, but the parson stopped him. "Hedgerly," he said, "you made one mistake. Never, never, never, try to hurl any woman at any man's head. They both resent it. And never, never, count on anything as being certain. And always, when you're trying to juggle the future, be certain of the true ancestry of those who have a definite part of it. I'll offer you a lift, Hedgerly, for I'm going your way, but not as far."
"But... but--"
Parson Hedgerly smiled. "Two couples," he said, "happily married to the right people--by their own son! Yeah, Hedgerly, you're not the only one who has a good probability of being. But your probability is slipping from decimal point to decimal point right now--and I doubt that you are even a shadow of your present self by the time we finish this trip back home."
* * * *
"Meddler's Moon" has been one of my favorites, so when Sandy Marshall of Radio Station WOR was producing the science fiction series "Exploring Tomorrow" with John as commentator, I re-wrote the story into a radio script. This is quite out of chronology, since it took place more than ten years later.
As I write this, I am waiting for a release from Station WOR to print the script so you can see how things change when a story is re-written into vocal presentation.
Like any other discipline, the radio drama has its own special limitations as well as its own advantages. One of the restrictions is limiting the number of voices on the air in a scene or sequence. The script could call for other voices for other scenes or sequences, provided the script was broken for, ah, "these commercial messages." "Meddler's Moon"
uses five voices, spoken by three actors. One, the meddler, stays through. The other two, one male, one female, swap voices and characterizations to produce the effect of a five-person play. Also notice that I revised the names and the time period to go along with the requirements of the spoken drama.
So, with luck, here is the radio script. It must not be reproduced, or pres
ented, without special permission from Radio Station WOR.
* * * *
(The script, reproduced here, was taken from a recording made in Germany, from the Armed Forces Network, Station AFN, in 1965, while I was there for ITT. That's why they filled in those breaks for "our commercial messages" with an interview.) Note: The following is not to be used in any method other than its appearance in this or other printings or editions of this book by Bantam Books without special written permission from Radio Station WOR, and countersigned by the estate of George O. Smith.
Meddler's Moon
(Radio Script)
"Meddler's Moon"--RADIO SCRIPT. Presented on Radio Station WOR in April 1958 for the program "Exploring Tomorrow." Rebroadcast on Radio Station AFN of the Armed Forces Network in Frankfurt am Main, Germany, in May 1965. The following version of the script was transcribed from a tape recorded from the AFN presentation.
* * * *
ANNOUNCER: "This is Radio Station AFN of the Armed Forces Network, Frankfurt am Main, with studios in Hochst...
THEME MUSIC
... It is time now for our performance at 'Command Theater.' "
MUSIC CONTINUES, SEVERAL BARS, TO
ANNOUNCER: "Before we begin our performance this evening, I want to quote a letter we received from one of our listeners, Mr. George O. Smith. It goes this way:
" 'On Wednesday evening, we were listening to your program "Command Theatre,"
and with some small surprise, we identified the commentator, who filled in with details that provided the background of the story. He is John W. Campbell, the editor of Analog Science Fiction Magazine. And unless we are mistaken, the story is one of a series broadcast from New York Radio Station WOR, produced and directed by Sandy Marshall. If our guesswork is correct, you may someday be playing a story entitled "Meddler's Moon," which appeared on the same series. I would like to hear "Meddler's Moon" for very personal reasons.
" 'I am the George O. Smith who wrote the original story, and I am the guy who adapted the story for WOR. Unfortunately, I was in the hospital when the story went out over WOR, so I have not yet heard the work on radio.
" 'Signed, With best regards, George O. Smith'
"Wishing to oblige Mr. Smith, we inaugurated a search of our AFN Program Library, and, happily, we found it: 'Meddler's Moon.' We have it scheduled for this evening. And we've invited Mr. Smith to hear his play for the first time, right here in the studio.
"Welcome to 'Command Theatre,' Mr. Smith."
GEORGE O.: "Thank you. I'm glad to be here."
ANNOUNCER: "Are you over here in Europe to do some writing, or preparing for some writing?"
GEORGE O.: "Well, in a way, yes. I'm actually working in Europe for the International Standard Engineering Corporation on a communications network for the military."
ANNOUNCER: "Then writing is an avocation for you."
GEORGE O.: "In one sense, yes. In another, I've combined about thirty years of radio engineering design with my writing background, and at present I am in charge of technical documentation for the engineering section of this contract."
ANNOUNCER: "Judging from your letter, Mr. Smith, you specialize in science fiction."
GEORGE O.: "Yes, I've written quite a bit of it since nineteen forty-two, when my first story was published."
ANNOUNCER: "And when did you write 'Meddler's Moon'?"
GEORGE O.: "I'd say late in nineteen forty-six. It appeared in Astounding Science
Fiction--Now
Analog--in September 'forty-seven."
ANNOUNCER: "And you also wrote the radio adaptation?"
GEORGE O.: "Yes. That was done early in nineteen fifty-eight."
ANNOUNCER: "And I understand, Mr. Smith, that you've never heard the show on the air."
GEORGE O.: "Correct. I was clipped by a mild coronary shortly after I sold the script, and was down sick when it went on the air."
ANNOUNCER: "All right, Mr. Smith. Tonight you will hear your show. Settle back, now, as 'Command Theatre' presents 'Meddler's Moon,' by George O. Smith."
MUSIC: Theme from "Exploring Tomorrow" series. Fades into background level for JOHN W. CAMPBELL: "The program you are about to hear is fiction. Science fiction. Life is confusing enough as it is, so we hope that this story stays fiction. You see, time travel is most likely impossible. But that doesn't mean that it wouldn't be fun to discuss it. Tonight's story is about time travel. And--all--er--
IF time travel is possible, what would happen if you went back and murdered your grandfather before your father was born? That is--what would happen to you?...
MUSIC: "Theme from "Exploring Tomorrow."
This is one of those repetitious things of several bars; at the end of the first whole run, fade to background level for the rest of the following:
"... Last night when I went up the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there.
He wasn't there again today,
My gosh, I wish he'd go away!'
"It was Gelett Burgess who wrote those immortal lines. But the problem is, how do you get rid of the little man who wasn't there in the first place?
"Well, Charles Martin was a physicist. A scientist. And his trouble started with the little man who wasn't there."
MUSIC: Fades at the end of Campbell's introduction to two to five seconds of silence.
* * * *
CHARLES MARTIN, in monotone, thinking out loud: "Sub-matrix X, integrated between two pi plus...
SOUND: Door buzzer
MARTIN:... Confound it!"
SOUND: Footsteps. Door latch.
MEDDLER: "May I come in, Mr. Martin?"
MARTIN: "I suppose so."
MEDDLER: "Are you alone?"
MARTIN: "Why, yes. Of course."
MEDDLER: "Ah, then, she hasn't arrived yet."
MARTIN, slightly irritated: "I wasn't expecting anybody."
MEDDLER: "Well,
I am. But if she isn't here yet, I'll take time to explain."
MARTIN:
"Who isn't here?"
MEDDLER: "Oh, one thing at a time, sir. Now, first, have you ever considered the problem of time travel?"
MARTIN, scoffingly:
"Time travel? Don't be ridiculous. It's impossible."
MEDDLER: "Now, don't say 'impossible,' because you invented it."
MARTIN: "I've done nothing of the sort!"
MEDDLER: "History says you did."
MARTIN:
"What history?"
MEDDLER: "History says that you invented time-travel machinery and applied for a United States patent, dated sixteen June nineteen sixty-four."
MARTIN: "Some history! Nineteen Sixty-four? Why, that's six years from now!"
MEDDLER: "From your point of view. But not from
my point of view. You see, I've
actually used one of your machines to come back from your future. Fifty years through my past to this date, your present. Understand?"
MARTIN: "You claim to have traveled fifty years through time."
MEDDLER, triumphantly: "I'm here! That's proof!"
MARTIN, scathingly: "I don't believe a word of it!"
SOUND: Light rattling of paper. Continues...
MEDDLER: "Well--Look 'em over!...
SOUND: Stops
... "This is your own personal notebook, fifty years later than it is now.
Actually, it's the same one that's over there on your desk just barely started.
This is a copy of your patent. These documents say I'm right.
I say
so! You see, in
my day, you are the wealthy and famous Charles Martin."
MARTIN: "Umph! Do you want my autograph? You may be right, but I'm neither wealthy nor famous."
MEDDLER: "Just a matter of time. But I'm not after anything. I came here to help you."
MARTIN, disparagingly: "I don't need any help!"
MEDDLER: "Do you know anything about your future?"
MARTIN, scornfully:
"Of course not!"
MEDDLER, boastfully:
"Well! I do! I know just about everything that you are going to do for the next fifty years."
MARTIN: "So what am I going to do next?"
MEDDLER: "You are about to be introduced to the woman who will become your wife."
MARTIN: "I already know her. We're already engaged."
MEDDLER: "Ah, you mean Laura Phillips. No doubt she's a nice girl, but she's not for you. You'll break that engagement shortly."
MARTIN: "I'll do no such thing!"
MEDDLER: "History says you did. Not 'will do' but did."
MARTIN: "Like...
SOUND: Telephone
MARTIN: ...Yes?--Yes, Laura--No, I'm not--But Laura--"
MEDDLER: "Go on. Tell her now and get it over with!"
MARTIN: "You shut up!--No, Laura, no, I didn't mean you." --No--No, Laura, she's not here...
SOUND: Barely audible click:
"She hung up!"
MEDDLER: "Ah ha! She wouldn't even listen. And that's your fiancee!"
MARTIN: "She wouldn't have done that if--"
SOUND: Door buzzer, gingerly. Footsteps, door latch.
AMELIA CARTER, in hesitant voice: "Er--is--ah--"
MEDDLER: "Ah, Miss Carter! We've been expecting you. Please do come in."
AMELIA: "All right. But just for a minute. No, Harry. You wait by the door, but stay close."
HARRY: Muffled, masculine grunt, just enough to indicate his presence on the scene.
SOUND: Door closing.
MEDDLER: "Miss Amelia Carter, may I present--"
MARTIN, angrily interrupting: "Get that dame outa here!"
AMELIA: "Dame!"
MEDDLER: "Please. This is hardly the way to start a lifetime."
AMELIA : "Lifetime? "
&
MARTIN: "Lifetime?"
MEDDLER, triumphantly: "Yes! History says so! Fifty years you've been together, and still going!" (Voice changes to admonition) "Now stop this hostility. You might better save time, so start off with the first names. Amelia, this is Charles. Charles, be nice to Amelia. You should be gracious, anxious to create a good first impression."
MARTIN: "Don't you tell me how to behave."
MEDDLER: "Now, don't blow a fuse, Gran'pa."
MARTIN, indignantly:
"Gran'pa?"
MEDDLER: "I am Charles Amile Martin, the Third. Your grandson. Please note that my middle name is the masculine form of Amelia, my grandmother."
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