Modern Masterpieces of Science Fiction

by Sam Moskowitz

  In desperation, Nall said, "It was ripe barley."

  "Dear me! Barley—how strange! Don't you know what foozles and merkins are?

  Wouldn't you recognize them if you saw them?"

  "I reckon not," admitted Farmer Nall, with much reluc-tance.

  "Permit me to observe that you seem singularly lacking in perceptive faculties," remarked Mr. Defender, tartly. "indeed, I am really sorry for you. Can you detect sorrow in my face?"

  "I dunno," said Nall, feeling that his throne before the cameras was becoming somehow like a bed of nails.

  "In other words, you cannot recognize remorse when you see it?"

  "Objection!" roared Mr. Prosecutor, coming up crimson. "The witness cannot reasonably be expected—." He stopped as his opponent sat down. Recovering swiftly, he growled, "Next witness!"

  Number two was big, beefy, clad in blue, and had all the assurance of one long familiar with courts and the tedious processes of the law.

  "Name?"

  "Joseph Higginson."

  "You are an officer of the Dansville police?"

  "Correct."

  "You were summoned by the first witness?"

  "I was."

  Mr. Prosecutor wore the smile of one in complete com-mand of circumstances as he went on, "Discovering what had occurred, you tried to apprehend the cause of it, did you not?"

  "I sure did." Officer Higginson turned his head, threw a scowl at the golden eyes pleading in the box.

  "And what happened?"

  "It paralyzed me with a look."

  The judge on the left interjected, "You appear to have recovered. How extensive was this paralysis, and how long did it last?"

  "It was complete, Your Honor, but it wore off after a cou-ple of hours."

  "By which time," said Mr. Prosecutor, taking over again, "this outlandish object had made good its escape?" Lugubriously, "Yes."

  "It therefore obstructed a police officer in the execution of his duty, assaulted a police officer, and resisted arrest?" "It did," agreed Higginson, with emphasis.

  "Your witness." Mr. Prosecutor seated himself, well satis-fied. Mr. Defender arose, hooked thumbs in vest-holes, and in-quired with disarming amiability, "You can recognize another police official when you see him?"

  "Naturally."

  "Very well. There is one at present seated in the public section. Kindly point him out for the benefit of this court."

  Higginson looked carefully over the small audience which represented in person the vaster audience beyond. Cameras swung in imitation of his search. Judges, reporters, officials, all looked the same way.

  "He must be in plain clothes," declared Higginson, giving up. The middle judge interposed mildly, "This court can hardly accept witness's inability to recognize a plain clothes officer as evidence."

  "No, Your Honor," agreed Mr. Defender. His plump fea-tures registered frustration and disappointment which glad-dened the heart of his watching opponent. Then, satisfied that the other had reached the heights, he plunged him to the depths by brightening and adding, "But the said official is in full uniform." Mr. Prosecutor changed faces like swapping masks. Hig-ginson got a crick in the neck as he took in the audience again.

  "Olive-drab with red trimmings," Mr. Defender went on. "He is a Provost Marshal of the Corps of Military Police."

  "You didn't tell me that," Higginson pointed out. He was openly aggrieved.

  "Did you tell the defendant that you were a police officer?" The witness reddened, opened his mouth, closed it, gazed appealingly at the prosecuting attorney.

  "Answer the question!" insisted a judge.

  "No, I did not tell it."

  "Why not?"

  Mopping his forehead, Higginson said' in hoarse tones, "Didn't think it was necessary. It was obvious, wasn't it?"

  "It is for me to put the questions; for you to provide the answers. Do you agree that the Provost Marshal is obvious?"

  "Objection!" Mr. Prosecutor waved for attention. "Opin-ions are not evidence."

  "Sustained!" responded the middle judge. He eyed defend-ing attorney over his glasses. "This court takes cognizance of the fact that there was no need for witness to offer vocally any information available to defendant telepathically. Pro-ceed with your examination."

  Mr. Defender returned his attention to Higginson and asked "Precisely what were you doing at the moment you were paralysed?"

  "Aiming my gun."

  "And about to fire?"

  "Yes."

  "At the defendant?"

  "Yes."

  "Is it your habit to fire first and ask questions afterward?"

  "The witness's habits are not relevant," put in the middle judge. He looked at Higginson. "You may ignore that ques-tion."

  Officer Higginson grinned his satisfaction and duly ignored it.

  "From what range were you about to fire?" pursued defending attorney.

  "Fifty or sixty yards."

  "So far? You are an excellent marksman?"

  Higginson nodded, without pride, and warily. The plump man, he had decided, was a distinct pain in the neck. "About what time do you hope to get home for supper?" Caught on one foot by this sudden shift of attack, the witness gaped and said, "Maybe midnight."

  "Your wife will be happy to know that. Were it not for the radio and video, you could not have told her vocally, could you?"

  "I can't bawl from here to Dansville," assured Higginson, slightly sarcastic.

  "Of course not. Such a distance is completely beyond range of the unaided human voice." Mr. Defender rubbed his chin, mused awhile, suddenly demanded,

  "Can you bawl tele-pathically for fifty to sixty yards?" No reply.

  "Or is your mental limit in keeping with what the defendant assures me to be the normal limit of twenty-five to thirty yards?"

  Higginson screwed up his eyes and said nothing.

  "Don't you know?"

  "No."

  "A pity!" commented Mr. Defender, shaking his head sadly and taking a seat. The third witness was a swarthy, olive-skinned character who stared sullenly at his boots while the prosecuting attor-ney got to work.

  "Name?"

  "Dominic Lolordo." He gave it in an undertone, as if reluctant to have it coupled with his image on the video. "You operate a sea-food restaurant?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you recognize the creature in that box?"

  His eyes slid sidewise. "Yes."

  "In what circumstances did you last see it?"

  "In my joint, after hours."

  "It had forced an entrance, had it not, shortly before dawn, and it awakened you while plundering the place?" "That's correct."

  "You did not try to catch it?"

  Lolordo made a face. "Catch that? Look at it!"

  `"Appearance alone would not deter you if you were being robbed," Mr. Prosecutor suggested meaningly. "Surely there was something else?"

  "It had walked in through the window," said Lolordo, his voice rising considerably. "Right through the window, leaving a hole its own shape. It went out the same way, making another hole. No broken glass around, no splinters, nothing. What can you do with a green nightmare that walks through glass as if it wasn't there?"

  "Seeing this demonstration of supernormal powers, you ran for assistance?"

  "You bet!"

  "But it came too late? This unscrupulous plunderer had gone?"

  "Yes."

  The questioner handed over with a gesture, and the defending attorney began.

  "You assert that you were plundered? Of what?"

  "Stuff."

  "That is not an answer."

  "Ain't it?" Lolordo yawned with exaggerated disinterest. The middle judge bent forward, frowning heavily. "Does the witness desire to be committed for contempt?"

  "Lobsters and oysters," said Lolordo, hurriedly and with bad grace.

  "In other words, a square meal?" inquired Mr. Defender. "If that's what you want to call it."

  "Was it being consumed as if the defe
ndant were raven-ously hungry?"

  "I didn't stick around to see. I took one look and went on my way—fast."

  "So that if the defendant picked up enough of your thoughts to realise that a felonious act had been committed, there was no opportunity to apologise or make restitution?"

  No reply.

  "And, in any case, your departing thoughts were violently hostile?"

  "I wasn't hot-footing for a bouquet," assured Lolordo. Mr. Defender said to the judges, "This witness is imperti-nent. I have no further use for him."

  The judges conferred, and the middle one decided coldly, "The witness will be detained within the precincts of this court until the case has been decided." Lolordo stamped away from his seat, glowering right and left.

  "Fourth witness!"

  The chair was taken by a middle-aged, dapper man who resembled the movie notion of a bank president or an emi-nent surgeon. He could have been cast equally well for either part.

  "Name."

  "Winthrop Allain."

  "You are a resident professor of zoology, are you not?" in-quired the prosecuting attorney.

  "That is correct."

  "You recognize the creature in the box?"

  "I ought to. I have been in close communication with it for many weeks." Mr. Prosecutor made an impatient gesture. "In what cir-cumstances did you first encounter it?"

  An answer to that one seemed unnecessary. The whole world knew the circumstances, had been told them time and time again with many fanciful frills. Nevertheless, Allain responded, "It appeared in the zoo some two hours after closing time. How it got there I don't know."

  "It was snooping around, seeing all there was to see, mak-ing mental notes of everything?"

  Hesitantly, "Well—"

  "Was it or was it not looking over the place?"

  "It certainly saw a good bit of the zoo before the keepers discovered it, but—"

  "Please do not embellish your answers, Professor Allain," said Mr. Prosecutor, firmly. "Let us continue: owing to the great furore created by this strange object's arrival and subsequent exploits, your keepers had no difficulty in recognising it?"

  "None at all. They reported to me at once."

  "What did you do then?"

  "I attended to the matter myself. I found it a warm and comfortable apartment in the unused section of the Reptile House."

  The entire court along with the cameras peered respectfully at the expert who could treat such an occasion with such nonchalance.

  "How did you achieve this without suffering paralysis, dis-integration or some other unnatural fate?" Mr. Prosecutor's voice had a touch of acid. "Did you graciously extend a cor-dial invitation?"

  The witness, dryly, "Precisely!"

  "There is a time and place for humor, Professor," reproved Mr. Prosecutor, with some severity. "However, the court un-derstands that you classified this nightmarish entity as a reptile and managed to put it in its proper place."

  "Nonsense! The Reptile House was immediately available, convenient and acceptable. The defendant is unclassifiable."

  Dismissing that with a contemptuous gesture, the prosecut-ing attorney went on,

  "You are not prepared to tell this court by what means you overcame this creature's menacing pow-ers and succeeded in trapping it?"

  "I did not trap it. I knew it was sentient and treated it as such."

  "If we can rely upon the evidence of other witnesses," said Mr. Prosecutor, tartly,

  "you were fortunate to have any choice about the matter. Why did this caricature permit you to make the contact it denied to others?"

  "Because it recognized my mind as of a type accustomed to dealing with non-human forms. With considerable logic it assumed that contact with me would be far easier than with any others."

  "With considerable logic," echoed prosecuting attorney, turning toward the judges. "I ask Your Honors to make espe-cial note of that remark, bearing in mind that witness has a distinguished status." He returned his attention to Allain. "By that, you mean it is intelligent?"

  "Indubitably!"

  "You have had many weeks in which to study the mind of this unwanted invader. Just how intelligent would you say it is?"

  "As much so as we are, though in a different way."

  "Do you consider this sample to be fairly representative of its race?"

  "I have no reason to suppose otherwise."

  "Which race, therefore, equals us in brain-power?"

  "Very probably." Professor Allain rubbed his chin and mused a moment. "Yes, insofar as one can relate things which are not the same, I'd say they are our intellectual equals."

  "Perhaps our superiors, not only in brains, but also in numbers?"

  "I don't know. I doubt it."

  "The possibility cannot be ruled out?" persisted Mr. Prose-cutor.

  "Such data as is available is far from sufficient and therefore I—"

  "Do not evade my question. There is a possibility, no matter how remote, that the life-form represented by this mon-ster now standing before us is the direst menace humanity has ever been called upon to face?"

  "Anything can be construed as a menace if you insist, but—"

  "A menace, yes or no?"

  The middle judge interjected profoundly, "Witness cannot be required to provide a positive answer to a hypothetical question."

  Not fazed in the least, Mr. Prosecutor bowed. "Very well, Your Honor, I will put it differently." He resumed with Allain. "In your expert estimation, is the intelligence quotient of this life-form high enough to enable it to conquer, subdue and enslave humanity if it so desired?"

  "I do not know."

  "That is your only answer?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  "It is quite satisfactory," commented Mr. Prosecutor, throwing a significant look through the cameras at the un-seen but billion-strong jury. "inasmuch as it admits the possi-bility of peril, extreme peril."

  "I did not say that," protested Allain.

  "Neither have you said the contrary," retorted the other. He seated himself, confident and pleased. "Your witness."

  Mr. Defender began heavily, "Professor Allain, have your various hand-outs concerning the defendant been reported factually?"

  "Without exception, they have been grossly distorted," said Allain, grimly. He cast a cold look at the big group of report-ers who grinned back arrogantly.

  "Defendant has repeatedly been described as a spy who must "receive drastic treatment lest worse befall. Does your data support that theory?"

  "No."

  "What status do you assign to the defendant?"

  "A refugee," said Allain.

  "It is impossible for the defendant's motives to be hostile?"

  "Nothing is impossible," said Professor Allain, honest though the heavens fall.

  "The smartest of us can be fooled. But I don't think I am fooled. That is my opinion, for what it is worth."

  Mr. Defender sighed, "As I have been reminded, opinions are not evidence." He sat down murmuring, "Most unfortu-nate! Most unfortunate!"

  "Fifth witness!"

  "Tenth witness!"

  "Sixteenth witness!"

  That one, number sixteen, ended the prosecution's roster. Four or five times as many witnesses could have been pro-duced, but these were the pick of the bunch. They had something cogent to offer, something calculated to help the public to decide once and for all—at least with its prejudices if not with its brains—whether gallivanting life-forms were to be tolerated, or given the bum's rush, or worse. The question at issue was the ephemeral one of public safety, and it was for the public to say whether or not they were going to take any risks. With this in mind, the evidence of the sixteen made a formidable indictment against the queer, golden-eyed thing on trial for its liberty or even its life.

  Conscious that he was leading on points, Mr. Prosecutor came erect, gazed authoritatively at the defendant.

  "Just why did you come to this world?"

  "To escape my own."r />
  "Do you expect us to believe that?"

  "I expect nothing," chalked Maeth laboriously. "I merely hope."

  "You hope for what?"

  "For kindness."

  It disconcerted the questioner. Left with no room for a telling retort, he was silent a moment while he sought another angle.

  "Then your own world did not please you? What was wrong with it?"

  "Everything," responded Maeth.

  "Meaning you were a misfit?"

  "Yes."

  "Nevertheless you view this world as a suitable dumping-ground for misfits?" No reply.

  "I suggest that your plea is nonsense, your whole story a sheer fabrication. I suggest that your motives in coming here are deeper and darker than you dare admit. I will go further and put it to you that you do not come even from the region of Procyon, but from somewhere a good deal nearer, such as Mars." Still no reply.

  "Are you aware that astronautical engineers have subjected your damaged ship to long and careful examination and made a report on it?"

  Maeth stood there, pathetically patient, eyes looking into the distance as if in search of peace, and said nothing.

  "Are you aware that they have reported that while your vessel is far in advance of anything yet developed by us, and while it is undoubtedly capable of travelling far outside this solar system, it is not able to reach Alpha Centauri, much less Procyon?"

  "That is true," wrote Maeth on the board.

  "Yet you maintain that you came from the region of Pro-cyon?"

  "Yes."

  The prosecuting attorney spread despairing hands. "You have heard defendant, Your Honors. His ship cannot reach here from Procyon. All the same, it came from Procyon. This creature cannot manage to be consistent, either because it is dimwitted or, more probably, an ineffectual liar. I therefore see little purpose in continuing my—"

  "I rode on a rock," scrawled Maeth.

  "There!" Mr. Prosecutor pointed sardonically at the black-board. "Defendant rode on a rock. That is the escape from a self-created impasse—a rock, no less!" He frowned at the box. "You must have ridden a long, long way."

  "I did."

  "So you sat your ship on this rock and saved fuel by let-ting it carry you many millions of miles? Have you any idea of the mathematical odds against finding a wandering aster-oid in any section of space?"

  "They are very large," admitted Maeth.