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diff --git a/22579-h/22579-h.htm b/22579-h/22579-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5d2d9c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/22579-h/22579-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1639 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Bread Overhead, by Fritz Leiber + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em;} + + h2 {text-align: center; + clear: both;} + + h1 {text-align: left; padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em; clear: both;} + + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1.5em; + margin-bottom: 1.5em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .trans1 {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + + img {border: none} + + .cpoem21 {width: 21em; margin: 0 auto;} + + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; + margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; + padding:0; + line-height: .8em; font-size: 3em;} + + p.bigcap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; + margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; + padding:0; + line-height: .8em; font-size: 4.5em;} + + .illo {margin-bottom: 2em; margin-top: 2em; font-weight: bold; text-align: left;} + .tease {margin-top: 2em; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;} + .theend {text-align: right; font-weight: bold; margin-top: 2em;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Bread Overhead, by Fritz Reuter Leiber + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Bread Overhead + +Author: Fritz Reuter Leiber + +Illustrator: Wood + +Release Date: September 11, 2007 [EBook #22579] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BREAD OVERHEAD *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="cpoem21"> +<h1><big>Bread<br /> +Overhead</big></h1> + +<h2>By FRITZ LEIBER</h2> + + +<p class="tease">The Staff of Life suddenly and<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">disconcertingly sprouted wings</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">—and mankind had to eat crow!</span></p> +<p class="illo">Illustrated by WOOD</p></div> + + +<p class="bigcap">AS a blisteringly hot but +guaranteed weather-controlled +future summer day +dawned on the Mississippi Valley, +the walking mills of Puffy Products +("Spike to Loaf in One +Operation!") began to tread delicately +on their centipede legs +across the wheat fields of Kansas.</p> + +<p>The walking mills resembled fat +metal serpents, rather larger than +those Chinese paper dragons animated +by files of men in procession. +Sensory robot devices in +their noses informed them that +the waiting wheat had reached ripe +perfection.</p> + +<p>As they advanced, their heads +swung lazily from side to side, very +much like snakes, gobbling the yellow +grain. In their throats, it was +threshed, the chaff bundled and +burped aside for pickup by the +crawl trucks of a chemical corporation, +the kernels quick-dried +and blown along into the mighty +chests of the machines. There the +tireless mills ground the kernels +to flour, which was instantly sifted, +the bran being packaged and +dropped like the chaff for pickup. +A cluster of tanks which gave +the metal serpents a decidedly +humpbacked appearance added +water, shortening, salt and other +ingredients, some named and some +not. The dough was at the same +time infused with gas from a tank +conspicuously labeled "Carbon +Dioxide" ("No Yeast Creatures +in Your Bread!").</p> + + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 384px;"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="384" height="550" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>Thus instantly risen, the dough +was clipped into loaves and shot +into radionic ovens forming the +midsections of the metal serpents. +There the bread was baked in a +matter of seconds, a fierce heat-front +browning the crusts, and the +piping-hot loaves sealed in transparent +plastic bearing the proud +Puffyloaf emblem (two cherubs +circling a floating loaf) and ejected +onto the delivery platform at each +serpent's rear end, where a cluster +of pickup machines, like hungry +piglets, snatched at the loaves +with hygienic claws.</p> + +<p>A few loaves would be hurried +off for the day's consumption, +the majority stored for winter in +strategically located mammoth +deep freezes.</p> + +<p>But now, behold a wonder! As +loaves began to appear on the +delivery platform of the first walking +mill to get into action, they +did not linger on the conveyor +belt, but rose gently into the air +and slowly traveled off down-wind +across the hot rippling fields.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">THE robot claws of the pickup +machines clutched in vain, and, +not noticing the difference, proceeded +carefully to stack emptiness, +tier by tier. One errant loaf, +rising more sluggishly than its fellows, +was snagged by a thrusting +claw. The machine paused, clumsily +wiped off the injured loaf, set +it aside—where it bobbed on one +corner, unable to take off again—and +went back to the work of +storing nothingness.</p> + +<p>A flock of crows rose from the +trees of a nearby shelterbelt as the +flight of loaves approached. The +crows swooped to investigate and +then suddenly scattered, screeching +in panic.</p> + +<p>The helicopter of a hangoverish +Sunday traveler bound for Wichita +shied very similarly from the +brown fliers and did not return for +a second look.</p> + +<p>A black-haired housewife spied +them over her back fence, crossed +herself and grabbed her walkie-talkie +from the laundry basket. +Seconds later, the yawning correspondent +of a regional newspaper +was jotting down the lead of a humorous +news story which, recalling +the old flying-saucer scares, stated +that now apparently bread was to +be included in the mad aerial tea +party.</p> + +<p>The congregation of an open-walled +country church, standing +up to recite the most familiar of +Christian prayers, had just reached +the petition for daily sustenance, +when a sub-flight of the loaves, +either forced down by a vagrant +wind or lacking the natural buoyancy +of the rest, came coasting silently +as the sunbeams between the +graceful pillars at the altar end of +the building.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the main flight, now +augmented by other bread flocks +from scores and hundreds of walking +mills that had started work a +little later, mounted slowly and +majestically into the cirrus-flecked +upper air, where a steady +wind was blowing strongly toward +the east.</p> + +<p>About one thousand miles farther +on in that direction, where a cluster +of stratosphere-tickling towers +marked the location of the metropolis +of NewNew York, a tender +scene was being enacted in the +pressurized penthouse managerial +suite of Puffy Products. Megera +Winterly, Secretary in Chief to the +Managerial Board and referred to +by her underlings as the Blonde +Icicle, was dealing with the advances +of Roger ("Racehorse") +Snedden, Assistant Secretary to the +Board and often indistinguishable +from any passing office boy.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you jump out the +window, Roger, remembering to +shut the airlock after you?" the +Golden Glacier said in tones not +unkind. "When are your high-strung, +thoroughbred nerves going +to accept the fact that I would +never consider marriage with a +business inferior? You have about +as much chance as a starving +Ukrainian kulak now that Moscow's +clapped on the interdict."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">ROGER'S voice was calm, although +his eyes were feverishly +bright, as he replied, "A lot +of things are going to be different +around here, Meg, as soon as the +Board is forced to admit that only +my quick thinking made it possible +to bring the name of Puffyloaf in +front of the whole world."</p> + +<p>"Puffyloaf could do with a little +of that," the business girl observed +judiciously. "The way sales have +been plummeting, it won't be long +before the Government deeds our +desks to the managers of Fairy +Bread and asks us to take the Big +Jump. But just where does your +quick thinking come into this, Mr. +Snedden? You can't be referring to +the helium—that was Rose Thinker's +brainwave."</p> + +<p>She studied him suspiciously. +"You've birthed another promotional +bumble, Roger. I can see it +in your eyes. I only hope it's not +as big a one as when you put the +Martian ambassador on 3D and he +thanked you profusely for the gross +of Puffyloaves, assuring you that +he'd never slept on a softer mattress +in all his life on two planets."</p> + +<p>"Listen to me, Meg. Today—yes, +today!—you're going to see +the Board eating out of my hand."</p> + +<p>"Hah! I guarantee you won't +have any fingers left. You're bold +enough now, but when Mr. Gryce +and those two big machines come +through that door—"</p> + +<p>"Now wait a minute, Meg—"</p> + +<p>"Hush! They're coming now!"</p> + +<p>Roger leaped three feet in the +air, but managed to land without a +sound and edged toward his stool. +Through the dilating iris of the +door strode Phineas T. Gryce, +flanked by Rose Thinker and Tin +Philosopher.</p> + +<p>The man approached the conference +table in the center of the room +with measured pace and gravely +expressionless face. The rose-tinted +machine on his left did a couple +of impulsive pirouettes on the way +and twittered a greeting to Meg +and Roger. The other machine quietly +took the third of the high seats +and lifted a claw at Meg, who now +occupied a stool twice the height of +Roger's.</p> + +<p>"Miss Winterly, please—our +theme."</p> + +<p>The Blonde Icicle's face thawed +into a little-girl smile as she chanted +bubblingly:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Made up of tiny wheaten motes</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>And reinforced with sturdy oats,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>It rises through the air and floats—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>The bread on which all Terra dotes!</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">"THANK YOU, Miss Winterly," +said Tin Philosopher. +"Though a purely figurative statement, +that bit about rising through +the air always gets me—here." He +rapped his midsection, which gave +off a high musical <i>clang</i>.</p> + +<p>"Ladies—" he inclined his photocells +toward Rose Thinker and Meg—"and +gentlemen. This is a historic +occasion in Old Puffy's long history, +the inauguration of the helium-filled +loaf ('So Light It Almost Floats +Away!') in which that inert and +heaven-aspiring gas replaces old-fashioned +carbon dioxide. Later, +there will be kudos for Rose +Thinker, whose bright relays genius-sparked +the idea, and also for Roger +Snedden, who took care of the +details.</p> + +<p>"By the by, Racehorse, that was +a brilliant piece of work getting the +helium out of the government—they've +been pretty stuffy lately +about their monopoly. But first I +want to throw wide the casement in +your minds that opens on the Long +View of Things."</p> + +<p>Rose Thinker spun twice on her +chair and opened her photocells +wide. Tin Philosopher coughed to +limber up the diaphragm of his +speaker and continued:</p> + +<p>"Ever since the first cave wife +boasted to her next-den neighbor +about the superior paleness and fluffiness +of her tortillas, mankind has +sought lighter, whiter bread. Indeed, +thinkers wiser than myself have +equated the whole upward course of +culture with this poignant quest. +Yeast was a wonderful discovery—for +its primitive day. Sifting the +bran and wheat germ from the flour +was an even more important advance. +Early bleaching and preserving +chemicals played their humble +parts.</p> + +<p>"For a while, barbarous faddists—blind +to the deeply spiritual nature +of bread, which is recognized +by all great religions—held back +our march toward perfection with +their hair-splitting insistence on the +vitamin content of the wheat germ, +but their case collapsed when tasteless +colorless substitutes were +triumphantly synthesized and introduced +into the loaf, which for flawless +purity, unequaled airiness and +sheer intangible goodness was rapidly +becoming mankind's supreme +gustatory experience."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 377px;"> +<img src="images/002.png" width="377" height="550" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"I wonder what the stuff tastes +like," Rose Thinker said out of a +clear sky.</p> + +<p>"I wonder what taste tastes like," +Tin Philosopher echoed dreamily. +Recovering himself, he continued:</p> + +<p>"Then, early in the twenty-first +century, came the epochal researches +of Everett Whitehead, +Puffyloaf chemist, culminating in +his paper 'The Structural Bubble +in Cereal Masses' and making possible +the baking of airtight bread +twenty times stronger (for its +weight) than steel and of a +lightness that would have been +incredible even to the advanced +chemist-bakers of the twentieth +century—a lightness so great that, +besides forming the backbone of +our own promotion, it has forever +since been capitalized on by our +conscienceless competitors of Fairy +Bread with their enduring slogan: +'It Makes Ghost Toast'."</p> + +<p>"That's a beaut, all right, that +ecto-dough blurb," Rose Thinker +admitted, bugging her photocells +sadly. "Wait a sec. How about?—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>There'll be bread</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Overhead</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>When you're dead—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>It is said.</i>"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">PHINEAS T. GRYCE wrinkled +his nostrils at the pink machine +as if he smelled her insulation +smoldering. He said mildly, "A +somewhat unhappy jingle, Rose, +referring as it does to the end of +the customer as consumer. Moreover, +we shouldn't overplay the +figurative 'rises through the air' +angle. What inspired you?"</p> + +<p>She shrugged. "I don't know—oh, +yes, I do. I was remembering +one of the workers' songs we machines +used to chant during the Big +Strike—</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"<i>Work and pray,</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>Live on hay.</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>You'll get pie</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>In the sky</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>When you die—</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>It's a lie!</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"I don't know why we chanted +it," she added. "We didn't want pie—or +hay, for that matter. And +machines don't pray, except Tibetan +prayer wheels."</p> + +<p>Phineas T. Gryce shook his head. +"Labor relations are another topic +we should stay far away from. +However, dear Rose, I'm glad you +keep trying to outjingle those dirty +crooks at Fairy Bread." He scowled, +turning back his attention to Tin +Philosopher. "I get whopping mad, +Old Machine, whenever I hear that +other slogan of theirs, the discriminatory +one—'Untouched by Robot +Claws.' Just because they employ a +few filthy androids in their factories!"</p> + +<p>Tin Philosopher lifted one of his +own sets of bright talons. "Thanks, +P.T. But to continue my historical +resume, the next great advance in +the baking art was the substitution +of purified carbon dioxide, recovered +from coal smoke, for the gas +generated by yeast organisms indwelling +in the dough and later +killed by the heat of baking, their +corpses remaining <i>in situ</i>. But even +purified carbon dioxide is itself a +rather repugnant gas, a product of +metabolism whether fast or slow, +and forever associated with those +life processes which are obnoxious +to the fastidious."</p> + +<p>Here the machine shuddered +with delicate clinkings. "Therefore, +we of Puffyloaf are taking today +what may be the ultimate step +toward purity: we are aerating our +loaves with the noble gas helium, +an element which remains virginal +in the face of all chemical temptations +and whose slim molecules are +eleven times lighter than obese +carbon dioxide—yes, noble uncontaminable +helium, which, if it be a +kind of ash, is yet the ash only of +radioactive burning, accomplished +or initiated entirely on the Sun, a +safe 93 million miles from this +planet. Let's have a cheer for the +helium loaf!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">WITHOUT changing expression, +Phineas T. Gryce rapped +the table thrice in solemn applause, +while the others bowed their heads.</p> + +<p>"Thanks, T.P.," P.T. then said. +"And now for the Moment of +Truth. Miss Winterly, how is the +helium loaf selling?"</p> + +<p>The business girl clapped on a +pair of earphones and whispered +into a lapel mike. Her gaze grew +abstracted as she mentally translated +flurries of brief squawks into +coherent messages. Suddenly a single +vertical furrow creased her +matchlessly smooth brow.</p> + +<p>"It isn't, Mr. Gryce!" she gasped +in horror. "Fairy Bread is outselling +Puffyloaves by an infinity factor. +So far this morning, <i>there has +not been one single delivery of +Puffyloaves to any sales spot</i>! Complaints +about non-delivery are pouring +in from both walking stores and +sessile shops."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Snedden!" Gryce barked. +"What bug in the new helium +process might account for this +delay?"</p> + +<p>Roger was on his feet, looking +bewildered. "I can't imagine, sir, +unless—just possibly—there's +been some unforeseeable difficulty +involving the new metal-foil wrappers."</p> + +<p>"Metal-foil wrappers? Were <i>you</i> +responsible for those?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Last-minute recalculations +showed that the extra lightness +of the new loaf might be great +enough to cause drift during stackage. +Drafts in stores might topple +sales pyramids. Metal-foil wrappers, +by their added weight, took +care of the difficulty."</p> + +<p>"And you ordered them without +consulting the Board?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. There was hardly time +and—"</p> + +<p>"Why, you fool! I noticed that +order for metal-foil wrappers, assumed +it was some sub-secretary's +mistake, and canceled it last night!"</p> + +<p>Roger Snedden turned pale. +"You canceled it?" he quavered. +"And told them to go back to the +lighter plastic wrappers?"</p> + +<p>"Of course! Just what is behind +all this, Mr. Snedden? <i>What</i> recalculations +were you trusting, when +our physicists had demonstrated +months ago that the helium loaf +was safely stackable in light airs +and gentle breezes—winds up to +Beaufort's scale 3. <i>Why</i> should a +change from heavier to lighter +wrappers result in complete non-delivery?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">ROGER Snedden's paleness became +tinged with an interesting +green. He cleared his throat +and made strange gulping noises. +Tin Philosopher's photocells focused +on him calmly, Rose +Thinker's with unfeigned excitement. +P.T. Gryce's frown grew +blacker by the moment, while +Megera Winterly's Venus-mask +showed an odd dawning of dismay +and awe. She was getting new +squawks in her earphones.</p> + +<p>"Er ... ah ... er...." Roger +said in winning tones. "Well, you +see, the fact is that I...."</p> + +<p>"Hold it," Meg interrupted +crisply. "Triple-urgent from Public +Relations, Safety Division. Tulsa-Topeka +aero-express makes emergency +landing after being buffeted +in encounter with vast flight of +objects first described as brown +birds, although no failures reported +in airway's electronic anti-bird +fences. After grounding safely near +Emporia—no fatalities—pilot's +windshield found thinly plastered +with soft white-and-brown material. +Emblems on plastic wrappers embedded +in material identify it incontrovertibly +as an undetermined +number of Puffyloaves cruising at +three thousand feet!"</p> + +<p>Eyes and photocells turned inquisitorially +upon Roger Snedden. +He went from green to Puffyloaf +white and blurted: "All right, I did +it, but it was the only way out! +Yesterday morning, due to the +Ukrainian crisis, the government +stopped sales and deliveries of all +strategic stockpiled materials, including +helium gas. Puffy's new +program of advertising and promotion, +based on the lighter loaf, was +already rolling. There was only one +thing to do, there being only one +other gas comparable in lightness +to helium. I diverted the necessary +quantity of hydrogen gas from the +Hydrogenated Oils Section of our +Magna-Margarine Division and +substituted it for the helium."</p> + +<p>"You substituted ... hydrogen ... for +the ... helium?" Phineas +T. Gryce faltered in low mechanical +tones, taking four steps backward.</p> + +<p>"Hydrogen is twice as light as +helium," Tin Philosopher remarked +judiciously.</p> + +<p>"And many times cheaper—did +you know that?" Roger countered +feebly. "Yes, I substituted hydrogen. +The metal-foil wrapping would +have added just enough weight to +counteract the greater buoyancy of +the hydrogen loaf. But—"</p> + +<p>"So, when this morning's loaves +began to arrive on the delivery +platforms of the walking mills...." +Tin Philosopher left the remark +unfinished.</p> + +<p>"Exactly," Roger agreed dismally.</p> + +<p>"Let me ask you, Mr. Snedden," +Gryce interjected, still in low tones, +"if you expected people to jump to +the kitchen ceiling for their Puffybread +after taking off the metal +wrapper, or reach for the sky if +they happened to unwrap the stuff +outdoors?"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Gryce," Roger said reproachfully, +"you have often assured +me that what people do with +Puffybread after they buy it is no +concern of ours."</p> + +<p>"I seem to recall," Rose Thinker +chirped somewhat unkindly, "that +dictum was created to answer inquiries +after Roger put the famous +sculptures-in-miniature artist on 3D +and he testified that he always +molded his first attempts from +Puffybread, one jumbo loaf squeezing +down to approximately the size +of a peanut."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">HER photocells dimmed and +brightened. "Oh, boy—hydrogen! +The loaf's unwrapped. After +a while, in spite of the crust-seal, a +little oxygen diffuses in. An explosive +mixture. Housewife in curlers +and kimono pops a couple slices in +the toaster. Boom!"</p> + +<p>The three human beings in the +room winced.</p> + +<p>Tin Philosopher kicked her under +the table, while observing, "So +you see, Roger, that the non-delivery +of the hydrogen loaf carries +some consolations. And I must confess +that one aspect of the affair +gives me great satisfaction, not as a +Board Member but as a private +machine. You have at last made a +reality of the 'rises through the air' +part of Puffybread's theme. They +can't ever take that away from you. +By now, half the inhabitants of the +Great Plains must have observed +our flying loaves rising high."</p> + +<p>Phineas T. Gryce shot a frightened +look at the west windows and +found his full voice.</p> + +<p>"Stop the mills!" he roared at +Meg Winterly, who nodded and +whispered urgently into her mike.</p> + +<p>"A sensible suggestion," Tin +Philosopher said. "But it comes a +trifle late in the day. If the mills +are still walking and grinding, approximately +seven billion Puffyloaves +are at this moment cruising +eastward over Middle America. +Remember that a six-month supply +for deep-freeze is involved and that +the current consumption of bread, +due to its matchless airiness, is +eight and one-half loaves per person +per day."</p> + +<p>Phineas T. Gryce carefully inserted +both hands into his scanty +hair, feeling for a good grip. He +leaned menacingly toward Roger +who, chin resting on the table, regarded +him apathetically.</p> + +<p>"Hold it!" Meg called sharply. +"Flock of multiple-urgents coming +in. News Liaison: information bureaus +swamped with flying-bread +inquiries. Aero-expresslines: Clear +our airways or face law suit. U. S. +Army: Why do loaves flame when +hit by incendiary bullets? U. S. +Customs: If bread intended for +export, get export license or face +prosecution. Russian Consulate in +Chicago: Advise on destination of +bread-lift. And some Kansas church +is accusing us of a hoax inciting to +blasphemy, of faking miracles—I +don't know <i>why</i>."</p> + +<p>The business girl tore off her +headphones. "Roger Snedden," she +cried with a hysteria that would +have dumfounded her underlings, +"you've brought the name of Puffyloaf +in front of the whole world, all +right! Now do something about the +situation!"</p> + +<p>Roger nodded obediently. But +his pallor increased a shade, the +pupils of his eyes disappeared under +the upper lids, and his head +burrowed beneath his forearms.</p> + +<p>"Oh, boy," Rose Thinker called +gayly to Tin Philosopher, "this +looks like the start of a real crisis +session! Did you remember to +bring spare batteries?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">MEANWHILE, the monstrous +flight of Puffyloaves, filling +midwestern skies as no small fliers +had since the days of the passenger +pigeon, soared steadily onward.</p> + +<p>Private fliers approached the +brown and glistening bread-front in +curiosity and dipped back in awe. +Aero-expresslines organized sightseeing +flights along the flanks. +Planes of the government forestry +and agricultural services and 'copters +bearing the Puffyloaf emblem +hovered on the fringes, watching +developments and waiting for orders. +A squadron of supersonic +fighters hung menacingly above.</p> + +<p>The behavior of birds varied +considerably. Most fled or gave the +loaves a wide berth, but some +bolder species, discovering the minimal +nutritive nature of the translucent +brown objects, attacked +them furiously with beaks and +claws. Hydrogen diffusing slowly +through the crusts had now distended +most of the sealed plastic +wrappers into little balloons, which +ruptured, when pierced, with disconcerting +<i>pops</i>.</p> + +<p>Below, neck-craning citizens +crowded streets and back yards, +cranks and cultists had a field day, +while local and national governments +raged indiscriminately at +Puffyloaf and at each other.</p> + +<p>Rumors that a fusion weapon +would be exploded in the midst of +the flying bread drew angry protests +from conservationists and a flood +of telefax pamphlets titled "H-Loaf +or H-bomb?"</p> + +<p>Stockholm sent a mystifying +note of praise to the United Nations +Food Organization.</p> + +<p>Delhi issued nervous denials of a +millet blight that no one had heard +of until that moment and reaffirmed +India's ability to feed her +population with no outside help +except the usual.</p> + +<p>Radio Moscow asserted that the +Kremlin would brook no interference +in its treatment of the Ukrainians, +jokingly referred to the flying +bread as a farce perpetrated by +mad internationalists inhabiting +Cloud Cuckoo Land, added contradictory +references to airborne +bread booby-trapped by Capitalist +gangsters, and then fell moodily +silent on the whole topic.</p> + +<p>Radio Venus reported to its +winged audience that Earth's +inhabitants were establishing food +depots in the upper air, preparatory +to taking up permanent aerial +residence "such as we have always +enjoyed on Venus."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">NEWNEW YORK made feverish +preparations for the passage +of the flying bread. Tickets +for sightseeing space in skyscrapers +were sold at high prices; cold meats +and potted spreads were hawked to +viewers with the assurance that +they would be able to snag the +bread out of the air and enjoy a +historic sandwich.</p> + +<p>Phineas T. Gryce, escaping from +his own managerial suite, raged +about the city, demanding general +cooperation in the stretching of +great nets between the skyscrapers +to trap the errant loaves. He was +captured by Tin Philosopher, escaped +again, and was found posted +with oxygen mask and submachine gun +on the topmost spire of Puffyloaf +Tower, apparently determined +to shoot down the loaves as they +appeared and before they involved +his company in more trouble with +Customs and the State Department.</p> + +<p>Recaptured by Tin Philosopher, +who suffered only minor bullet +holes, he was given a series of mild +electroshocks and returned to the +conference table, calm and clear-headed +as ever.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> +<img src="images/003.png" width="700" height="212" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>But the bread flight, swinging +away from a hurricane moving up +the Atlantic coast, crossed a +clouded-in Boston by night and +disappeared into a high Atlantic +overcast, also thereby evading a +local storm generated by the +Weather Department in a last-minute +effort to bring down or at +least disperse the H-loaves.</p> + +<p>Warnings and counterwarnings +by Communist and Capitalist governments +seriously interfered with +military trailing of the flight during +this period and it was actually +lost in touch with for several days.</p> + +<p>At scattered points, seagulls were +observed fighting over individual +loaves floating down from the gray +roof—that was all.</p> + +<p>A mood of spirituality strongly +tinged with humor seized the people +of the world. Ministers sermonized +about the bread, variously +interpreting it as a call to charity, +a warning against gluttony, a parable +of the evanescence of all +earthly things, and a divine joke. +Husbands and wives, facing each +other across their walls of breakfast +toast, burst into laughter. The +mere sight of a loaf of bread anywhere +was enough to evoke guffaws. +An obscure sect, having as +part of its creed the injunction +"Don't take yourself so damn seriously," +won new adherents.</p> + +<p>The bread flight, rising above an +Atlantic storm widely reported to +have destroyed it, passed unobserved +across a foggy England and +rose out of the overcast only over +Mittel-europa. The loaves had at +last reached their maximum altitude.</p> + +<p>The Sun's rays beat through the +rarified air on the distended plastic +wrappers, increasing still further +the pressure of the confined hydrogen. +They burst by the millions +and tens of millions. A high-flying +Bulgarian evangelist, who had happened +to mistake the up-lever for +the east-lever in the cockpit of his +flier and who was the sole witness +of the event, afterward described it +as "the foaming of a sea of diamonds, +the crackle of God's +knuckles."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">BY THE millions and tens of +millions, the loaves coasted +down into the starving Ukraine. +Shaken by a week of humor that +threatened to invade even its own +grim precincts, the Kremlin made +a sudden about-face. A new policy +was instituted of communal ownership +of the produce of communal +farms, and teams of hunger-fighters +and caravans of trucks loaded with +pumpernickel were dispatched into +the Ukraine.</p> + +<p>World distribution was given to +a series of photographs showing +peasants queueing up to trade scavenged +Puffyloaves for traditional +black bread, recently aerated itself +but still extra solid by comparison, +the rate of exchange demanded by +the Moscow teams being twenty +Puffyloaves to one of pumpernickel.</p> + +<p>Another series of photographs, +picturing chubby workers' children +being blown to bits by booby-trapped +bread, was quietly destroyed.</p> + +<p>Congratulatory notes were exchanged +by various national governments +and world organizations, +including the Brotherhood of Free +Business Machines. The great +bread flight was over, though for +several weeks afterward scattered +falls of loaves occurred, giving rise +to a new folklore of manna among +lonely Arabian tribesmen, and in +one well-authenticated instance in +Tibet, sustaining life in a party of +mountaineers cut off by a snow +slide.</p> + +<p>Back in NewNew York, the +managerial board of Puffy Products +slumped in utter collapse +around the conference table, the +long crisis session at last ended. +Empty coffee cartons were scattered +around the chairs of the three +humans, dead batteries around +those of the two machines. For a +while, there was no movement +whatsoever. Then Roger Snedden +reached out wearily for the earphones +where Megera Winterly +had hurled them down, adjusted +them to his head, pushed a button +and listened apathetically.</p> + +<p>After a bit, his gaze brightened. +He pushed more buttons and listened +more eagerly. Soon he was +sitting tensely upright on his stool, +eyes bright and lower face all +a-smile, muttering terse comments +and questions into the lapel mike +torn from Meg's fair neck.</p> + +<p>The others, reviving, watched +him, at first dully, then with quickening +interest, especially when he +jerked off the earphones with a +happy shout and sprang to his feet.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">"LISTEN to this!" he cried in +a ringing voice. "As a result +of the worldwide publicity, Puffyloaves +are outselling Fairy Bread +three to one—and that's just the +old carbon-dioxide stock from our +freezers! It's almost exhausted, but +the government, now that the +Ukrainian crisis is over, has taken +the ban off helium and will also +sell us stockpiled wheat if we need +it. We can have our walking mills +burrowing into the wheat caves in +a matter of hours!</p> + +<p>"But that isn't all! The far +greater demand everywhere is for +Puffyloaves that will actually float. +Public Relations, Child Liaison +Division, reports that the kiddies +are making their mothers' lives +miserable about it. If only we can +figure out some way to make +hydrogen non-explosive or the +helium loaf float just a little—"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure we can take care of +that quite handily," Tin Philosopher +interrupted briskly. "Puffyloaf +has kept it a corporation secret—even +you've never been told +about it—but just before he went +crazy, Everett Whitehead discovered +a way to make bread using +only half as much flour as we do in +the present loaf. Using this secret +technique, which we've been saving +for just such an emergency, it will +be possible to bake a helium loaf as +buoyant in every respect as the +hydrogen loaf."</p> + +<p>"Good!" Roger cried. "We'll +tether 'em on strings and sell 'em +like balloons. No mother-child +shopping team will leave the store +without a cluster. Buying bread +balloons will be the big event of +the day for kiddies. It'll make the +carry-home shopping load lighter +too! I'll issue orders at once—"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p class="cap">HE broke off, looking at Phineas +T. Gryce, said with quiet +assurance, "Excuse me, sir, if I +seem to be taking too much upon +myself."</p> + +<p>"Not at all, son; go straight +ahead," the great manager said approvingly. +"You're"—he laughed +in anticipation of getting off a +memorable remark—"rising to the +challenging situation like a genuine +Puffyloaf."</p> + +<p>Megera Winterly looked from +the older man to the younger. +Then in a single leap she was upon +Roger, her arms wrapped tightly +around him.</p> + +<p>"My sweet little ever-victorious, +self-propelled monkey wrench!" she +crooned in his ear. Roger looked +fatuously over her soft shoulder at +Tin Philosopher who, as if moved +by some similar feeling, reached +over and touched claws with Rose +Thinker.</p> + +<p>This, however, was what he telegraphed +silently to his fellow machine +across the circuit so completed:</p> + +<p>"Good-o, Rosie! That makes another +victory for robot-engineered +world unity, though you almost +gave us away at the start with that +'bread overhead' jingle. We've +struck another blow against the +next world war, in which—as we +know only too well!—we machines +would suffer the most. Now if we +can only arrange, say, a fur-famine +in Alaska and a migration of long-haired +Siberian lemmings across +Behring Straits ... we'd have to +swing the Japanese Current up +there so it'd be warm enough for +the little fellows.... Anyhow, +Rosie, with a spot of help from the +Brotherhood, those humans will +paint themselves into the peace +corner yet."</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, he and Rose Thinker +quietly watched the Blonde Icicle +melt.</p> + +<p class="theend">—FRITZ LEIBER</p> + + + + +<div class="trans1"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b><br /> + +This etext was produced from <i>Galaxy</i> February 1958. Extensive +research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on +this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors +have been corrected without note.</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Bread Overhead, by Fritz Reuter Leiber + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BREAD OVERHEAD *** + +***** This file should be named 22579-h.htm or 22579-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/7/22579/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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