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diff --git a/22579.txt b/22579.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f127cbc --- /dev/null +++ b/22579.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1074 @@ +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: ASCII + +*** 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 + + + + + + + + + + Bread + Overhead + + By FRITZ LEIBER + + + _The Staff of Life suddenly and + disconcertingly sprouted wings + --and mankind had to eat crow!_ + + + Illustrated by WOOD + + +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. + +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. + +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!"). + +[Illustration] + +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. + +A few loaves would be hurried off for the day's consumption, the +majority stored for winter in strategically located mammoth deep +freezes. + +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. + + * * * * * + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +"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." + + * * * * * + +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." + +"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." + +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." + +"Listen to me, Meg. Today--yes, today!--you're going to see the Board +eating out of my hand." + +"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--" + +"Now wait a minute, Meg--" + +"Hush! They're coming now!" + +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. + +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. + +"Miss Winterly, please--our theme." + +The Blonde Icicle's face thawed into a little-girl smile as she chanted +bubblingly: + + "_Made up of tiny wheaten motes + And reinforced with sturdy oats, + It rises through the air and floats-- + The bread on which all Terra dotes!_" + + * * * * * + +"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 +_clang_. + +"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. + +"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." + +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: + +"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. + +"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." + +[Illustration] + +"I wonder what the stuff tastes like," Rose Thinker said out of a clear +sky. + +"I wonder what taste tastes like," Tin Philosopher echoed dreamily. +Recovering himself, he continued: + +"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'." + +"That's a beaut, all right, that ecto-dough blurb," Rose Thinker +admitted, bugging her photocells sadly. "Wait a sec. How about?-- + + "_There'll be bread + Overhead + When you're dead-- + It is said._" + + * * * * * + +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?" + +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-- + + "_Work and pray, + Live on hay. + You'll get pie + In the sky + When you die-- + It's a lie!_ + +"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." + +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!" + +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 _in situ_. 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." + +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!" + + * * * * * + +Without changing expression, Phineas T. Gryce rapped the table thrice in +solemn applause, while the others bowed their heads. + +"Thanks, T.P.," P.T. then said. "And now for the Moment of Truth. Miss +Winterly, how is the helium loaf selling?" + +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. + +"It isn't, Mr. Gryce!" she gasped in horror. "Fairy Bread is outselling +Puffyloaves by an infinity factor. So far this morning, _there has not +been one single delivery of Puffyloaves to any sales spot_! Complaints +about non-delivery are pouring in from both walking stores and sessile +shops." + +"Mr. Snedden!" Gryce barked. "What bug in the new helium process might +account for this delay?" + +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." + +"Metal-foil wrappers? Were _you_ responsible for those?" + +"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." + +"And you ordered them without consulting the Board?" + +"Yes, sir. There was hardly time and--" + +"Why, you fool! I noticed that order for metal-foil wrappers, assumed it +was some sub-secretary's mistake, and canceled it last night!" + +Roger Snedden turned pale. "You canceled it?" he quavered. "And told +them to go back to the lighter plastic wrappers?" + +"Of course! Just what is behind all this, Mr. Snedden? _What_ +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. _Why_ should a change +from heavier to lighter wrappers result in complete non-delivery?" + + * * * * * + +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. + +"Er ... ah ... er...." Roger said in winning tones. "Well, you see, the +fact is that I...." + +"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!" + +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." + +"You substituted ... hydrogen ... for the ... helium?" Phineas T. Gryce +faltered in low mechanical tones, taking four steps backward. + +"Hydrogen is twice as light as helium," Tin Philosopher remarked +judiciously. + +"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--" + +"So, when this morning's loaves began to arrive on the delivery +platforms of the walking mills...." Tin Philosopher left the remark +unfinished. + +"Exactly," Roger agreed dismally. + +"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?" + +"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." + +"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." + + * * * * * + +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!" + +The three human beings in the room winced. + +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." + +Phineas T. Gryce shot a frightened look at the west windows and found +his full voice. + +"Stop the mills!" he roared at Meg Winterly, who nodded and whispered +urgently into her mike. + +"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." + +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. + +"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 _why_." + +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!" + +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. + +"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?" + + * * * * * + +Meanwhile, the monstrous flight of Puffyloaves, filling midwestern skies +as no small fliers had since the days of the passenger pigeon, soared +steadily onward. + +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. + +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 _pops_. + +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. + +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?" + +Stockholm sent a mystifying note of praise to the United Nations Food +Organization. + +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. + +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. + +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." + + * * * * * + +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. + +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. + +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. + +[Illustration] + +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. + +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. + +At scattered points, seagulls were observed fighting over individual +loaves floating down from the gray roof--that was all. + +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. + +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. + +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." + + * * * * * + +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. + +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. + +Another series of photographs, picturing chubby workers' children being +blown to bits by booby-trapped bread, was quietly destroyed. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + * * * * * + +"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! + +"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--" + +"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." + +"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--" + + * * * * * + +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." + +"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." + +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. + +"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. + +This, however, was what he telegraphed silently to his fellow machine +across the circuit so completed: + +"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." + +Meanwhile, he and Rose Thinker quietly watched the Blonde Icicle melt. + + + --FRITZ LEIBER + + + + +Transcriber's Note + +This etext was produced from _Galaxy_ 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. + + + + + +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.txt or 22579.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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