The Scifi & Fantasy Collection

by L. Ron Hubbard

  “Certainly not!” said Doris, angrily wondering how she could get out of this trap.

  “The mind, properly attuned, can become One with All, for man, in the image of God, is certainly a servant of God if he so wishes.”

  “Naturally, but—”

  “And as God can create, so can man create,” stated Bessy. “There are miracles and miracles to prove that. Even modern miracles. Faith is belief, and if a man can believe anything enough, then certainly that thing becomes an actuality.”

  “But—” limped Doris.

  “The mind of man, becoming attuned to the All, is, of course, endowed with some of the Power of God. For example, if a man desires a thing enough, then that thing is his. In a sense he has created that thing and his desire for it has altered or shaped it to his liking. A man can create out of his own belief just as God can create, for man is one with the Universe and the Universe is God. Any belief, intense enough, creates actuality.” She smiled sweetly upon Jacob, who had now manfully managed the second plate. “Would you have some dessert?”

  Jacob was too dazed to protest, physically and mentally slugged into resistlessness. He was trying to rally, but rally he could not, since it weighed upon him that he would somehow have to eat the dessert as well.

  Bessy came back and placed it before him. Exerting all the last dregs of determination he sat up, raised the spoon to attack the ice cream and then shuddered.

  A cookie lay there. A cookie which was cut in the shape of a cat. And even as he looked, the cookie seemed to grin at him.

  “Oooooooooooooh,” said Jacob and quietly collapsed.

  They escorted him home in a cab, both of them apparently concerned about his condition, but nevertheless finding much time to glare at each other over his back. Under other circumstances Jacob might have been flattered into near expansiveness, but now he was brought to such depths of misery, both physical and mental, that he scarcely heeded their solicitousness.

  Of course neither of them had said a thing about that cat, and he certainly could not tell them. But now Bessy, to soothe him, began to rub in the salt.

  “You will simply have to come and see my cats sometime,” she was saying as the cab rolled to a halt before Jacob’s door. “They are so sweet and so cute. Cats are nearly human, don’t you think, Jacob?”

  “Th-This is where I live,” said Jacob.

  Supporting himself by gripping the doorknob, he managed to wave good night to them and call out a feeble thanks. At the bottom of the steps they both turned and nodded and then went their separate ways.

  “Meow,” said a night prowler in the gloom.

  Jacob let himself into the house and dashed up the steps so fast that he was in his room, with door closed and bolted, before the animal had finished the final syllable.

  “You are being foolish,” said Jacob. “You are being very silly. It is not true what Bessy said about evil beings. It is not true that animals have souls. It is not true that that cat could arrange a series of events after it was dead and so drive me to something desperate. What do I care about a mangy, filthy, decrepit, stupid, useless cat?”

  Bessy was being silly. The world was a wholly rational place. Doris had the proper idea. She couldn’t be shaken by superstitious nonsense. No, sir. Doris had good, sound, practical ideas. Scientific! That was it. Scientific. People didn’t go crazy because they saw ghosts and evil beings. People went crazy because they were obsessed with an idea or something. The mind didn’t create anything, either. It was just a mind, a delicate instrument which could be thrown out of adjustment by some shock—

  From the backyard came a cry, “Errrower, fsszt!”

  Jacob leaped and wrestled the window down. Shaking, he supported himself by the foot of the bed and felt the cold rivulets of sweat course down under his arms.

  What had that cat said when it was dying?

  No! He wouldn’t think of it. He would whisk it from his mind forever. He would be strong and put it aside! He crawled into bed in the darkness and pulled the covers up to his chin.

  The next thing he knew, he was aware of a weight upon his chest which was warm and uncomfortable. He struggled up through the layers and layers of enfolding slumber to shove restively at the thing.

  His hands contacted fur!

  His eyes snapped open.

  There was a cat sitting upon his chest, looking at him and purring gently. He was a huge cat, a dirty cat and a very proud cat. He was missing half his right ear, several of his port whiskers, a third of his right forefoot and about a sixteenth of his tail, to say nothing of the patches where fur had been.

  “SCAT!” cried Jacob.

  The cat did not move, but only purred the louder. Jacob tried to leap out of bed, but he was frozen where he lay with the terror of it. There could be no mistaking this cat! It was the same cat and it was a dead cat. Its spine had been broken so that its forefeet lay in an opposite direction from his hind feet and it was dead. But it was here and it didn’t look at all dead!

  Jacob tried to leap out of bed, but he was frozen where he lay with the terror of it. There could be no mistaking this cat!

  “Rrrrrrrrrrr-rrrrrrrrrrr,” purred the cat.

  Almost thankfully Jacob realized that this was a nightmare. It had all the peculiarities of a nightmare. The weight on his chest, the chilled feeling all over. This was a nightmare. The cat would dissolve and go away.

  It wore a gentle smile which bared a pearly tooth. It seemed comfortable and well disposed.

  Jacob wildly decided to lie still and let it fade away into the nothingness of his own imagination.

  The cat stayed there. Jacob lay there.

  And then the cat began to grow.

  It grew and it grew and it grew. Its head became the size of a sugar bowl and then the size of a cantaloupe and then the size of a pumpkin. And still it grew. And still it smiled. And the purr of it was now so loud that it had begun to shake not only Jacob but the bed as well.

  Now Jacob knew that it was a nightmare, but that did not mitigate his fear. It was certain to be a nightmare. He merely believed that the cat was there and that the cat was growing and so the cat was there and the cat was growing. He would suppose that the cat was not there and the cat would then go away. It was very simple.

  The cat grew and grew some more. Its head became larger than a tiger’s, larger than a horse’s, larger than an elephant’s. Its eyes were now like dinner plates and its whiskers as big as wire cables and its fur was standing all separately, each hair as large as a porcupine quill.

  Jacob was looking up at its chin. A paw was on either side of him. The exposed tooth was like a marble column. The claws in its paws were sheathed sabers. Its breath was foul as a sardine can.

  “RRRRRRRRRRRR-RRRRRRRRRR,” purred the cat.

  Jacob’s heart was racing. He sought cautiously to draw himself upward and beyond the paws and then made a startling discovery. His hands hooked into the bed sheet very neatly. But they were hands no more. They were tiny, black paws. Gagging at the sight of them he looked at his side. It was smooth and sleek and gray. And into his vision grew his long, graceful tail!

  He was a mouse between the paws of a cat!

  Jacob wriggled upward to the head of the bed and dropped hurriedly down to the floor. The heavy fall stunned him, but he scuttled along the baseboard and dived into a pile of papers.

  There was no sound in the room. And then came the soft footfalls of the cat, the loud snuffling of its breath. The paper rattled.

  With a squeak of horror Jacob sped away, again following the baseboard in an insensate effort to locate a hole and dive to safety. But there were no holes in the baseboard. He lunged with a skidding scramble behind the leg of the bureau and, looking out, saw the feet of the stalking cat approach.

&
nbsp; Madly Jacob gripped the scarf of the bureau, his leap successful. He scurried behind a stack of books there and crouched with fluttering heart and burning lungs. The bureau rocked. He was staring straight up at those huge eyes.

  With one bat of his paw the cat sent him hurtling out into the center of the room and then leaped after him to plant, abruptly, a paw on either side of him.

  Jacob trembled. He looked up at the acre of fur chest. He looked higher to the great yellow orbs which were now dilating and contracting with pleasure. The cat’s tail made loud sounds as it swished and lashed back and forth.

  “RRRRRRRRRRR-RRRRRRRRRRRR,” said the cat.

  Jacob played dead. He lay and shivered and played dead.

  After a little, the cat arose and became interested in washing its face. Jacob hearkened to the rasp of tongue on fur and finally opened his eyes. A great cavern appeared in the cat’s face as it yawned. The fences of teeth gleamed. The cat sighed and wandered away to inspect something interesting.

  Now was his chance! He could make a dash for the crack under the door and get out!

  He gathered himself. He leaped away. He sped like the wind toward the crack of the door. It got bigger and bigger. He was almost there! He had—

  BOW!

  He sped like the wind toward the crack of the door. It got bigger and bigger. He was almost there! He had—

  BOW!

  With a moan Jacob rolled to his feet in the center of the room. His side was bleeding. He was bruised. His beautiful gray fur was plastered flat with blood.

  The cat lay down with a paw on either side of him. It batted him to the right paw and then batted him back to the left. The saber claws drew and sheathed in sensuous delight. Back to the left paw. Then to the right paw. Dazed and aching, Jacob fainted.

  After a while, he came around. He looked for the cat and could find no trace of it. Jacob was lying there, battered and bloody in the center of the room and the cat was gone! He opened the other eye. He studied the chairs. He viewed even the window ledge. Why, the cat had vanished!

  Jacob gathered his long black tail about himself and crouched there, studying the exits. That crack under the door still looked good. But he was so broken up inside that he couldn’t make much speed. He leaped up and raced for it.

  Freedom! Liberty! He was almost there. It grew bigger and bigger. His nose could feel the rush of cold air.

  BOW!

  The cat had leaped down from the bed to knock him tumbling. And now the cat gathered him up in its sharp teeth and carried him back to the center of the room.

  Right paw to left paw. Let him run a few inches. Snatch him back. If he lay still for a moment, he was stirred into agonized life by the teeth, and if he ran, he was knocked back by the paws.

  Gasping, a mass of pain, slit and slashed and broken, dripping with the thick glue of the cat’s saliva, Jacob knew he was nearly done.

  He looked across the cobbly expanse of the carpet. He looked about the immensity of his room. Heartbroken, too weary now to move, he knew his end was near.

  The cat growled, angry that so little life was left in him. A mighty set of claws scraped him and took the skin from his left side. Teeth worried him. And then, once again, the cat apparently decided that he was dead. The cat got up and strolled away. It became interested in boxing the tassel which hung from the bridge lamp. It knocked a matchbox across the room and scurried after it.

  Jacob hitched himself toward the crack under the door. If only he could get there. If only his broken legs would support him long enough. If only the cat would completely forget him for the seconds necessary for him to bridge this distance.

  He halved the width. He quartered it. In agony, which sent waves of nausea over him, he made his broken legs support him, though now the right one showed its shattered bone. Feet to go. And then less distance and less. The cold air there began to revive him. He was going to make it, for the cat was too far away. He was going to make it. HE WAS GOING TO MAKE IT!

  BOW!

  The cat knocked him back into the center of the room.

  Heart and body broken, Jacob lay still. The claws raked him. The teeth punctured him. He lay still.

  With a bored sigh the cat opened its mouth and took in his head. There was a crunch. There was another crunch.

  Jacob Findley woke up quite sound, quite whole, and—for a moment—vastly thankful that it was, to be sure, no more than a dream. Then he realized, almost simultaneously, two things: the cat had died only once, and rather quickly, and he had a perfectly correct conviction that he, on the other hand, would die all night, every night. . . .

  Glossary

  STORIES FROM THE GOLDEN AGE reflect the words and expressions used in the 1930s and 1940s, adding unique flavor and authenticity to the tales. While a character’s speech may often reflect regional origins, it also can convey attitudes common in the day. So that readers can better grasp such cultural and historical terms, uncommon words or expressions of the era, the following glossary has been provided.

  alabaster: an almost transparent white stone, often used for making decorative objects.

  banca: a boat used in the Philippines, made from a single log and furnished with an outrigger.

  bime-by: by and by; eventually.

  bows: the exterior of the forward end of a vessel.

  bridge lamp: a traditional floor lamp having a classic design with a pleated shade that diffuses the light.

  buck up: gain courage.

  Chamorro: a people inhabiting the Mariana Islands; also the language of these people.

  copra: the dried kernel or meat of the coconut from which coconut oil is obtained.

  counsel, kept his own: kept his own thoughts and intentions secret.

  culverts: tunnels that carry a stream or open drain under a road.

  dementia praecox: schizophrenia.

  Department of Commerce: the department of the US federal government that promotes and administers domestic and foreign commerce.

  djellaba: a loose-hooded cloak of a kind traditionally worn by Arabs.

  droll: amusing in a strange or quaint way.

  dugout: a boat made by hollowing out a log.

  gugus: natives of the Philippines.

  hafa: (Chamorro) hello.

  hearkened: listened attentively; heeded.

  howitzers: cannons that have comparatively short barrels, used especially for firing shells at a high angle of elevation for a short range, as for reaching a target behind cover or in a trench.

  Joblike: of or like Job, the central figure in a parable (story designed to teach a religious principle or moral lesson) from the Bible. Job is a man who is blameless and honorable. He feared God and turned away from evil. Despite losing his possessions, sons and health, he does not lose his faith in God.

  Kaisan Isle: one of the Mariana Islands, approximately 1,500 miles (2,414 km) southeast of the Philippines.

  lettered streets: streets that are oriented east to west and use a single letter of the alphabet; for example, “A Street.”

  longboat: a large boat that may be launched from a sailing ship.

  long house: a type of long, narrow, single-roomed building that served as a communal dwelling.

  lugger: a small boat used for fishing or sailing rigged with lugsails (four-sided sails set at an angle on the mast).

  Luzon: the chief island of the Philippines.

  magnesium flare: a flare made of a light, silver-white, metallic element that burns with a dazzling white light.

  magneto: a small electric generator containing a permanent magnet and used to provide high-voltage current.

  mestiza: a woman of mixed native and foreign ancestry.

  muezzin: a man who calls Muslims
to prayer from the minaret (a slender tower with a balcony) of a mosque.

  parabola: a type of curve made by an object that is thrown up in the air and falls to the ground in a different place.

  pitch: a line of talk designed to persuade.

  plucking up: summoning up one’s courage or rousing one’s spirits.

  potion: a drink.

  protocol: the code of international courtesy governing the conduct of those in the diplomatic service or otherwise engaged in international relations. Within the State Department, the Office of the Chief of Protocol is responsible for advising the president, vice president and secretary of state on matters of national and international diplomatic protocol.

  prow: the fore part of a ship or boat, sometimes used to refer to the ship itself.

  put in: to enter a port or harbor, especially for shelter, repairs or provisions.

  Red Plague: smallpox.

  Robber Islands: a former name for the Mariana Islands, a group of islands east of the Philippines. They were so named by the Spanish explorer who discovered the islands, when the natives robbed his ships.

  sandbox: a primitive sort of spittoon, consisting of a wooden box filled with sand.

  sarong: garment consisting of a long piece of cloth worn wrapped around the body and tucked under the armpits.

  scarf: a long, narrow covering for a table, bureau top, etc.

  spraddled: spread apart.

  straw: something with too little substance to provide support in a crisis.

  Tiger Rag: a lively tune that gained national popularity after being recorded by the Original Dixieland Jazz Band in 1917. Hundreds of recordings of the tune appeared following this and through the 1920s. With the coming of sound film, it often appeared on soundtracks of both live action movies and animated cartoons when something very energetic was wanted.

  topee: a lightweight hat worn in tropical countries for protection from the sun.

  trade winds: any of the nearly constant easterly winds that dominate most of the tropics and subtropics throughout the world, blowing mainly from the northeast in the Northern Hemisphere, and from the southeast in the Southern Hemisphere.