I Am Crying All Inside and Other Stories
Page 33
From the direction of the ship, Richard Daniel heard the faint, strained violence of the captain’s roaring.
“You’d better get on up there and unload,” he told the man. “The captain is just sore enough he might not wait for you.”
The man chuckled thinly. “I guess that’s up to him,” he said.
He flapped the reins and clucked good-naturedly at the horses.
“Hop up here with me,” he said to Richard Daniel. “Or would you rather walk?”
“I’m not going with you,” Richard Daniel said. “I am staying here. You can tell the captain.”
For there was a baby sick and crying. There was a radio to fix. There was a culture to be planned and guided. There was a lot of work to do. This place, of all the places he had seen, had actual need of him.
The man chuckled once again. “The captain will not like it.”
“Then tell him,” said Richard Daniel, “to come down and talk to me. I am my own robot. I owe the captain nothing. I have more than paid any debt I owe him.”
The wagon wheels began to turn and the man flapped the reins again.
“Make yourself at home,” he said. “We’re glad to have you stay.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Richard Daniel. “I’m pleased you want me.”
He stood aside and watched the wagons lumber past, their wheels lifting and dropping thin films of powdered earth that floated in the air as an acrid dust.
Make yourself at home, the man had said before he’d driven off. And the words had a full round ring to them and a feel of warmth. It had been a long time, Richard Daniel thought, since he’d had a home.
A chance for resting and for knowing—that was what he needed. And a chance to serve, for now he knew that was the purpose in him. That was, perhaps, the real reason he was staying—because these people needed him … and he needed, queer as it might seem, this very need of theirs. Here on this Earth-like planet, through the generations, a new Earth would arise. And perhaps, given only time, he could transfer to the people of the planet all the powers and understanding he would find inside himself.
And stood astounded at the thought, for he’d not believed that he had it in him, this willing, almost eager, sacrifice. No messiah now, no robotic liberator, but a simple teacher of the human race.
Perhaps that had been the reason for it all from the first beginning. Perhaps all that had happened had been no more than the working out of human destiny. If the human race could not attain directly the paranormal power he held, this instinct of the mind, then they would gain it indirectly through the agency of one of their creations. Perhaps this, after all, unknown to Man himself, had been the prime purpose of the robots.
He turned and walked slowly down the length of the village street, his back turned to the ship and the roaring of the captain, walked contentedly into this new world he’d found, into this world that he would make—not for himself, nor for robotic glory, but for a better Mankind and a happier.
Less than an hour before he’d congratulated himself on escaping all the traps of Earth, all the snares of Man. Not knowing that the greatest trap of all, the final and the fatal trap, lay on this present planet.
But that was wrong, he told himself. The trap had not been on this world at all, nor any other world. It had been inside himself.
He walked serenely down the wagon-rutted track in the soft, golden afternoon of a matchless autumn day, with the dog trotting at his heels.
Somewhere, just down the street, the sick baby lay crying in its crib.
About the Author
CLIFFORD D. SIMAK, during his fifty-five-year career, produced some of the most iconic science fiction stories ever written. Born in 1904 on a farm in southwestern Wisconsin, Simak got a job at a small-town newspaper in 1929 and eventually became news editor of the Minneapolis Star-Tribune, writing fiction in his spare time.
Simak was best known for the book City, a reaction to the horrors of World War II, and for his novel Way Station. In 1953 City was awarded the International Fantasy Award, and in following years, Simak won three Hugo Awards and a Nebula Award. In 1977 he became the third Grand Master of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, and before his death in 1988, he was named one of three inaugural winners of the Horror Writers Association’s Bram Stoker Award for Lifetime Achievement.
About the Editor
DAVID W. WIXON was a close friend of Clifford D. Simak’s. As Simak’s health declined, Wixon, already familiar with science fiction publishing, began more and more to handle such things as his friend’s business correspondence and contract matters. Named literary executor of the estate after Simak’s death, Wixon began a long-term project to secure the rights to all of Simak’s stories and find a way to make them available to readers who, given the fifty-five-year span of Simak’s writing career, might never have gotten the chance to enjoy all of his short fiction. Along the way, Wixon also read the author’s surviving journals and rejected manuscripts, which made him uniquely able to provide Simak’s readers with interesting and thought-provoking commentary that sheds new light on the work and thought of a great writer.
All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this book or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
These are works of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
“Installment Plan” © 1958 by Galaxy Publishing Corp. © 1986 by Clifford D. Simak. Originally published in Galaxy Magazine, v. 17, no. 3, Feb., 1959. Reprinted by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
“I Had No Head and My Eyes Were Floating Way Up in the Air” © 2015 by the Estate of Clifford D. Simak. Published by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
“Small Deer” © 1965 by Galaxy Publishing Corp. © 1993 by the Estate of Clifford D. Simak. Originally published in Galaxy Magazine, v. 24, no. 1, Oct., 1965. Reprinted by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
“Ogre” © 1943 by Street & Smith Publications, Inc. © 1971 by Clifford D. Simak. Originally published in Astounding Science Fiction, v. 32, no. 5, January, 1944. Reprinted by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
“Gleaners” © 1959 by Digest Productions Corp. © 1987 by Clifford D. Simak. Originally published in If, v. 10, no. 1, March, 1960. Reprinted by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
“Madness from Mars” © 1939 by Better Publications, Inc. © 1967 by Clifford D. Simak. Originally published in Thrilling Wonder Stories, v. 13, no. 2, April, 1939. Reprinted by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
“Gunsmoke Interlude” © 1952 by Popular Publications,Inc. © 1980 by Clifford D. Simak. Originally published in 10-Story Western Magazine, v. 46, no. 3, October, 1952. Reprinted by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
“I Am Crying All Inside” © 1969 by Universal Publishing & Distributing Corp. © 1997 by the Estate of Clifford D. Simak. Originally published in Galaxy Science Fiction, v. 28, no. 6, Aug., 1969. Reprinted by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
“The Call from Beyond” © 1950 by Fictioneers, Inc. © 1978 by Clifford D. Simak. Originally published in Super Science Stories, v. 6, no. 4, May, 1950. Reprinted by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
“All the Traps of Earth” © 1960 by Mercury Press, Inc. © 1988 by the Estate of Clifford D. Simak. Originally published in The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, v. 18, no. 3, March, 1960. Reprinted by permission of the Estate of Clifford D. Simak.
Copyright © 2015 by the Estate of Clifford D. Simak
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