Turn Left at Thursday (1961) SSC

by Frederik Pohl

  'It sounds most beautiful, monsieur,' Duplessin said with politeness.

  'It is most beautiful. And the young Triop swims until he sees--Her.'

  'Ah, monsieur.' He was more than polite, I considered, he was interested.

  'They speak not a word,' I added, 'for the water is all around and they wear masks, otherwise they could not breathe. They cannot speak, no, and one cannot see the other's eyes. They approach in silence and in mystery.'

  He sighed and sipped his cassis.

  'They,' I said, 'they know, although there is no way that they can know.

  But they do. They swim about each other searchingly, tenderly, sadly. Yes.

  Sadly--is beauty not always in some way sad? A moment. And then they are one.'

  'They do not speak?'

  I shook my head.

  'Ever?'

  'Never until all is over, and they meet elsewhere again.'

  'Ah, monsieur!' He stared into his small glass of tincture. 'Monsieur,'

  he said, 'may one hope--that is, is it possible--oh, monsieur! Might one go there, soon?'

  I said with all my cunning: 'All the things are possible, M. Duplessin, if the Triops can be saved from destruction. Consider for yourself, if you please, that to turn such a people over to the brutes with the Red Star--or these with the forty-nine white stars--what difference?--is to destroy them.'

  'Never, my friend, never!' he cried strongly. 'Let them come! Let them entrust themselves to France! France will protect them, my friend, or France will die!'

  • • • •

  It was all very simple after that, I was free within an hour after lunch and, certainly, z-z-z-z-zit.

  My spaceship deposited me in this desert, Mojave, I think. Or almost Mojave, in its essential Americanness. Yes. It was in America, for what other place would do? I had accomplished much, but there was yet a cosmetic touch or two before I could say I had accomplished all.

  I scanned the scene, everything was well, there was no one. Distantly planes howled, but of no importance: stratosphere jets, what would they know of one man on the sand four miles below? I worked.

  Five round trips, carrying what was needed between this desert place and my bigger ship. And where was that? Ah. Safe. It hurled swinging around Mars: yes, quite safe. Astronomers might one day map it, but on that day it would not matter, no. Oh, it would not matter at all.

  Since there was time, on my first trip I reassumed my shape and ate, it was greatly restful. Seven useful arms and ample feet, it became easy; quickly I carried one ton of materials, two thousand pounds, from my armchair ferry to the small shelter in which I constructed my cosmetic appliance. Shelter? Why a shelter, you may ask? Oh, I say, for artistic reasons, and in the remote chance that some low-flying plane might blundersomely pass, though it would not. But it might. Let's see, I said, let me think, uranium and steel, strontium and cobalt, a touch of sodium for yellow, have I everything? Yes. I have everything, I said, everything, and I assembled the cosmetic bomb and set the fuse. Good-bye, bomb, I said with affection and, z-z-z-z-zit, armchair and Plinglot were back aboard my ship circling Mars. Nearly done, nearly done!

  There, quickly I assembled the necessary data for the Aldebaranian rocket, my penultimate--or Next to Closing--task.

  Now. This penultimate task, it was not a difficult one, no but it demanded some concentration. I had a ship. No fake, no crude imitation! It was an authentic rocket ship of the Aldebaranians, designed to travel to their six moons, with vent baffles for underwater takeoff due to certain exigencies (e.g., inimical animals ashore) of their culture. Yes. It was real. I had brought it on purpose all the way.

  Now--I say once more--now, I did what I had necessarily to do which was to make a course for this small ship. There was no crew. (Not anywhere.) The course was easy to compute, I did it rather well; but there was setting of instruments, automation of controls--oh, it took time, took time--but I did it. It was my way, I am workmanlike and reliable, ask Mother.

  The human race would not know an authentic Aldebaranian rocket from a lenticular Cetan shrimp, but they might, hey? The Aldebaranians had kindly developed rockets and it was no great trouble to bring, as well as more authentic. I brought. And having completed all this, and somewhat pleased.

  I stood to look around.

  But I was not alone.

  This was not a fortunate thing, it meant trouble.

  I at once realized what my companion, however unseen, must be, since it could not be human, nor was it another child. Aldebaranian. It could be nothing else.

  I stood absolutely motionless and looked, looked. As you have in almost certain probability never observed the interior of an Aldebaranian rocket, I shall describe: Green metal in cruciform shapes ('chairs'), sparkling mosaics of coloured light ('maps'), ferrous alloys in tortured cuprous-glassy conjunction ('instruments'). All motionless. But something moved. I saw! An Aldebaranian ! One of the Triops, a foothigh manikin, looking up at me out of three terrified blue eyes; yes, I had brought the ship but I had not brought it empty, one of the creatures had stowed away aboard. And there it was.

  I lunged towards it savagely. It looked up at me and squeaked like a bell: 'Why? Why, Plinglot, why did you kill my people?'

  It is so annoying to be held to account for every little thing. But I dissembled.

  I said in moderate cunning: 'Stand quiet, small creature, and let me get hold of you. Why are you not dead?'

  It squeaked pathetically--not in English, to be sure! but I make allowances--it squeaked: 'Plinglot, you came to our planet as a friend from outer space, one who wished to help our people join forces to destroy the great killing land beasts.'

  'That seemed appropriate,' I conceded.

  'We believed you, Plinglot! All our nations believed you. But you caused dissension. You pitted us one against the other, so that one nation no longer trusted another. We had abandoned war, Plinglot, for more than a hundred years, for we dared not wage war.'

  'That is true,' I agreed.

  'But you tricked us! War came, Plinglot! And at your hands. As this ship was plucked from its berth with only myself aboard I received radio messages that a great war was breaking out and that the seas were to be boiled. It is the ultimate weapon, Plinglot ! By now my planet is dry and dead. Why did you do it?'

  'Small Triop,' I lectured, 'listen to this. You are male, one supposes, and you must know that no female Aldebaranian survives. Very well You are the last of your race. There is no future. You might as well be dead.'

  'I know,' he wept

  'And therefore you should kill yourself. Check,' I invited, 'my logic with the aid of your computing machine, if you wish. But please do not disturb the course computations I have set up on it.'

  'It is not necessary, Plinglot,' he said with sadness. 'You are right'

  'So kill yourself!' I bellowed.

  The small creature, how foolish, would not do this, no. He said: 'I do not want to, Plinglot,' apologetically. 'But I will not disturb your course.'

  Well, it was damned decent of him, in a figure of speech, I believed, for that course was most important to me; on it depended the success of my present mission, which was to demolish Earth as I had his own planet I attempted to explain, in way of thanks, but he would not understand, no.

  'Earth?' he squeaked feebly and I attempted to make him see. Yes, Earth, that planet so far away, it too had a population which was growing large and fierce and smart; it too was hovering on the fringe of space travel.

  Oh, it was dangerous, but he would not see, though I explained and I am Plinglot. I can allow no rivals in space, it is my assigned task, given in hand by the great Mother. Well, I terrified him, it was all I could do.

  Having locked him, helpless, in a compartment of his own ship I consulted my time.

  It was fleeing I flopped onto my armchair; z-z-z-z-zit; once again in the room in the Hotel Mayflower, Washington, U.S.A.

  • • • •

  Things progressed, all was re
ady. I opened the door, affecting having just awaked. A chambermaid turned from dusting pictures on the wall, said, 'Good morning, sir,' looked at me and--oh!--screamed. Screamed in a terrible tone.

  Careless Plinglot! I had forgot to return to human form.

  Most fortunately, she fainted. I quickly turned human and found a rope. It took very much time, and time was passing, while the rocket hastened to cover forty million miles; it would arrive soon where I had sent it. I hurried. Hardly, hardly, I made myself do it, though as anyone on Tau Ceti knows it was difficult for me; I tied her; I forced a pillowcase, or one corner of it, into her mouth so that she might not cry out; and even I locked her in a closet. Oh, it was hard. Questions? Difficulty? Danger? Yes. They were all there to be considered, too, but I had no time to consider them.

  Time was passing, I have said, and time passed for me.

  It was only a temporary expedient. In time she would be found. Of course. This did not matter. In time there would be no time, you see, for time would come to an end for chambermaid, Duplessin, senators and the M.V.D., and then what?

  Then Plinglot would have completed this, his mission, and two-eyes would join three-eyes, good-bye.

  • • • •

  4

  Senator Schnell this time was waiting for me at the kerb in a hollow square of newsmen. 'Mr. Smith,' he cried, 'how good to see you. Now, please, fellows! Mr. Smith is a busy man. Oh, all right, just one picture, or two.' And he made to shoo the photographers off while wrapping himself securely to my side. 'Terrible men,' he whispered out of the golden corner of his mouth, smiling, smiling, 'how they pester me!'

  'I am sorry, Senator,' I said politely and permitted him to lead me through the flash barrage to the large room for the hearings.

  Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.) Mr. Smith, in yesterday's testimony you gave us to understand that Russia was making overtures to the alien creatures from Aldebaran. Now, I'd like to call your attention to something. Have you seen this morning's papers?

  A. No.

  Q. Then let me read you an extract from Pierce Truman's column which has just come to my attention. It starts, 'After yesterday's sensational rev--'

  Q. (Senator Loveless.) Excuse me, Mr. Hagsworth.

  Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.)'- elations.' Yes, Senator?

  Q. (Senator Loveless.) I only want to know, or to ask, if that document - that is, the newspaper which you hold in your hand--is a matter of evidence. By this I mean an exhibit. If so, I raise the question, or rather suggestion, that it should be properly marked and entered.

  Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.) Well, Senator, I—

  Q. (Senator Loveless.) As an exhibit, I mean.

  Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.) Yes, as an exhibit. I--

  Q. (Senator Loveless.) Excuse me for interrupting. It seemed an important matter--important procedural matter, that is.

  Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.) Certainly, Senator. Well, Senator, I intended to read it only in order to have Mr. Smith give us his views.

  Q. (Senator Loveless.) Thank you for that explanation, Mr. Hagsworth.

  Still it seems to me, or at the moment it appears to me, that it ought to be marked and entered.

  Q. (The Chairman.) Senator, in my view--

  Q. (Senator Loveless.) As an exhibit, that is.

  Q. (The Chairman.) Thank you for that clarification, Senator. In my view, however, since as Mr. Hagsworth has said it is only Mr. Smith's views that he is seeking to get out, then the article itself is not evidence but merely an adjunct to questioning. Anyway, frankly, Senator, that's the way I see it. But I don't want to impose my will on the Committee. I hope you understand that, all of you.

  Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.) Certainly, sir.

  Q. (Senator Loveless.) Oh, none of us has any idea, or suspicion, Senator Schnell, that you have any such design, or purpose.

  Q. (Senator Duffy.) Of course not.

  Q. (Senator Fly.) No, not here...

  • • • •

  Oh, time, time! I looked at the clock on the wall and time was going, I did not wish to be here when it started. Of course. Ten o'clock. Ten thirty.

  Five minutes approaching eleven. Then this Mr. Pierce Truman's column at last was marked and entered and recorded after civil objection and polite concession from Senator Schnell and in thus wise made an immutable, permanent, in destructible part of the files of this mutable, transient, soon to be destroyed committee. Oh, comedy! But it would not be for laughing if I dawdled here too late.

  • • • •

  Somehow, somehow, Mr. Hagsworth was entitled at last to read his column and it said as follows. Viz.

  After yesterday's sensational revelations before the Schnell Committee, backstage Washington was offering bets that nothing could top the mysterious Mr. Smith's weird story of creatures from outer space. But the toppers may already be on hand.

  Here are two questions for you, Senator Schnell. What were three Soviet U.N. military attaches doing at a special showing at the Hayden Planetarium last night? And what's the truth beyond the reports that are filtering into C.I.A. from sources in Bulgaria, concerning a special parade scheduled for Moscow's Red Square tomorrow to welcome 'unusual and very special' V.LP.'s, names unknown?

  Exhausted from this effort, the committee declared a twenty-minute recess. I glowered at the clock, time, time!

  • • • •

  Mr. Hagsworth had plenty of time, he thought, he was not worried. He cornered me in the cloakroom. 'Smoke?' he said graciously, offering a package of cigarettes.

  I said thank you, I do not smoke.

  'Care for a drink?'

  I do not drink, I told him.

  'Or--?' he nodded towards the tiled room with the chromium pipes; I do not do that either, but I could not tell him so, only, I shook my head.

  'Well, Mr. Smith,' he said again, 'you make a good witness. I'm sorry,'

  he added, 'to spring that column on you like that But I couldn't help it.'

  "No matter,' I said.

  'You're a good sport, Smith. You see, one of the reporters handed it to me as we walked into the hearing room.'

  'All right,' I said, wishing to be thought generous.

  'Well, I had to get it into the record. What's it about, eh?'

  I said painfully (time, time!), 'Mr. Hagsworth, I have testified the Russians also wish the ship from Aldebaran. And it is coming close. Soon it will land.'

  'Good,' he said, smiling and rubbing his hands, Very good! And you will bring them to us ?'

  'I will do,' I said, 'the best I can,' ambiguously, but that was enough to satisfy him, and recess was over.

  • • • •

  Q. (Mr. Hagsworth.) Mr. Smith, do I understand that you have some knowledge of the proposed movements of the voyagers from Aldebaran?

  A. Yes.

  Q. Can you tell us what you know?

  A. I can. Certainly. Even now an Aldebaranian rocket ship is approaching the Earth. Through certain media of communication which I cannot discuss in open hearing, as you understand, certain proposals have been made to them on behalf of this country.

  Q. And their reaction to these proposals, Mr. Smith?

  A. They have agreed to land in the United States for discussions.

  • • • •

  Oh, happy commotion, the idiots. The flash bulbs went like mad. Only the clock was going, going, and I commenced to worry, where was the ship?

  Was forty lousy million miles so much? But no, it was not so much; and when the messenger came racing in the door I knew it was time. One messenger, first. He ran wildly down among the seats, searching, then stopping at the seat on the aisle where Pierce Truman sat regarding me with an ophidian eye, stopped and whispered. Then a couple more, strangers, hatless and hair flying, also messengers, came hurrying in--and more--to the committee, to the newsmen--the word had got out.

  'Mr. Chairman! Mr. Chairman!' It was Senator Loveless, he was shouting; some one person had whispered in his ear and he could not wait to tell his news. But everyone had that news, you see, it
was no news to the chairman, he already had a slip of paper in his hand.

  He stood up and stared blindly into the television cameras, without smile now, the gold tooth not flashing. He said: "Gentlemen, I--' And stopped for a moment to catch his breath and to shake his head.

  'Gentlemen.' he said, 'gentlemen, I have here a report,' staring incredulously at the scrawled slip of paper. In the room was quickly silence; even Senator Loveless, and Pierce Truman stopped at the door on his way out to listen. This report,' he said, 'comes from the Arlington Naval Observatory--in, gentlemen, my own home state, the Old Dominion, Virginia--' He paused and shook himself, yes, and made himself look again at the paper. 'From the Arlington Naval Observatory, where the radio telescope experts inform us that an object of unidentified origin and remarkable speed has entered the atmosphere of the Earth from outer space.!'

  Cries. Sighs. Shouts. But he stopped them, yes, with a hand. 'But gentlemen, that is not all! Arlington has tracked this object and it has landed. Not in our country, gentlemen! Not even in Russia! But--' he shook the paper before him--'in Africa, gentlemen! In the desert of Algeria!'

  Oh, much commotion then, but not joyous. 'Double-cross!' shouted someone, and I made an expression of astonishment. Adjourned, banged the gavel of the chairman, and only just in time; the clock said nearly twelve and my cosmetic bomb was set for one-fifteen. Oh, I had timed it close.

  But now was danger and I had to leave, which I did hardly. But I could not evade Mr. Hagsworth, who rode with me in taxi to hotel, chattering, chattering. I did not listen.