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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/22589-h.zip b/22589-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0d1806e --- /dev/null +++ b/22589-h.zip diff --git a/22589-h/22589-h.htm b/22589-h/22589-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c4ec9f --- /dev/null +++ b/22589-h/22589-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1433 @@ +<!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 Jubilation, U.S.A., by G. L. Vandenburg + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em;} + + h1,h2 {text-align: center; + clear: both;} + + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .trans1 {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; padding: 1em; text-align: justify;} + + .cpoem {text-align: justify; width: 28em; margin: 2em auto; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;} + + .sign {text-align: center; margin: 1.5em auto 1.5em;} + + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; clear: left; + margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; + padding:0; + line-height: .8em; font-size: 3em;} + + .theend {text-align: right; font-weight: bold; margin-top: 2em;} + + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Jubilation, U.S.A., by G. L. Vandenburg + +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: Jubilation, U.S.A. + +Author: G. L. Vandenburg + +Release Date: September 12, 2007 [EBook #22589] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JUBILATION, U.S.A. *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1><big>JUBILATION, U.S.A.</big></h1> + +<h2>By G. L. VANDENBURG</h2> + + +<div class="cpoem">You've heard, I'm sure, about the two Martians who went into +a bar, saw a jukebox flashing and glittering, and said to it, +"What's a nice girl like you doing in a joint like this?" +Well, here's one about two Capellans and a slot-machine....</div> + + +<p class="cap">TORYL pointed the small crypterpreter +toward the wooden, +horseshoe-shaped sign. The +sign's legend was carved in +bright yellow letters. Sartan, +Toryl's companion, watched up +and down the open highway for +signs of life. In seconds the +small cylindrical mechanism completed the +translation.</p> + +<p>The sign said:</p> + +<div class="sign"><b>JUBILATION, U.S.A.!!</b><br /> +<br /> +The doggondest, cheeriest<br /> +little town in America!</div> + +<p>The two aliens smiled at each +other. Unaccustomed to oral +conversation, they exchanged +thoughts.</p> + +<p>"<i>The crypterpreter worked incredibly +fast. The language is +quite simple. It would seem safe +to proceed. The sign indicates +friendliness</i>," thought Toryl, the +older of the two Capellans.</p> + +<p>"<i>Very well, Brother</i>," replied +Sartan, "<i>though I still worry for +the safety of the ship</i>."</p> + +<p>"<i>Sartan, our instruments tell +us that anyone who discovers the +ship</i>," Toryl explained, a trifle +impatient, "<i>will show a remarkable +degree of curiosity before +they display any hostility</i>."</p> + +<p>Sartan agreed to dismiss his +worries and the two aliens began +to walk along the barren +highway. Before them, at a +great distance, they could see a +cluster of small frame buildings. +When they had walked a hundred +feet or more they encountered +another sign.</p> + +<div class="sign"><b>JUBILATION, U.S.A.!!</b><br /> +<br /> +<b>WELCOME, STRANGER!</b> See America<br /> +first and begin with<br /> +<b>JUBILATION!</b></div> + +<p>And several hundred feet further +two more signs.</p> + +<div class="sign"><b>THE ROTARY CLUB</b> of Jubilation<br /> +welcomes and extends the warm<br /> +hand of friendship to you!!!!<br /> +You are now entering Paradise, brother!<br /> +<br /><br /> +<b>HOWDY, STRANGER! COME RIGHT<br /> +ON IN, STAY AWHILE AND MAKE<br /> +YOURSELF TO HOME!</b><br /> +<br /> +—Jubilation Chamber of<br /> +Commerce—</div> + +<p>As members of a peaceful race, +Toryl and Sartan naturally found +the signs encouraging. They +walked at a sprightly pace.</p> + +<p>A whirring noise behind them +brought the two to a halt. They +turned to discover a pre-war +Chevy choking its way along the +road. The aliens edged their +way to a gulley along the side of +the road. They were confident of +a friendly reception but, in the +event their calculations had been +wrong, they poised themselves to +make a break in the direction of +their ship.</p> + +<p>The ancient Chevy sputtered +by. The driver was almost as ancient +as the car, a bearded fellow +with a stogy stuck between +his teeth and a crushed hat on +his head.</p> + +<p>The driver slowed down when +he saw the aliens. "Howdy, +strangers!" he yelled cheerily. +"Say, ain't you fellers a mite +warm in them coveralls?" He +cackled merrily, put his foot to +the floor and sped on by.</p> + +<p>Sartan looked at his companion. +"<i>I am sorry, I should not +have doubted you, Brother. You +were right. These people will +welcome our visit. They seem +very cordial.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Good, Sartan. Let us continue.</i>"</p> + +<p>One hundred yards further +they were confronted by still another +brace of signs. They stopped +once more.</p> + +<div class="sign"><b>CITY LIMITS</b><br /> +(Gambling allowed)<br /> +<br /> +<b>JUBILATION! Where troubles</b><br /> +never come due, 'cause the<br /> +Good Lord takes a likin' to <b>you</b>!<br /> +<br /> +Where gloom and doom are outlawed<br /> +and there's never any sadness.<br /> +<br /> +Where a smile lights up the midnight<br /> +sky and gives off only gladness!<br /> +<br /> +(Gambling allowed)</div> + +<p>The second sign was another +in the shape of a horseshoe.</p> + +<div class="sign"><b>Beyond This Point You Have 4372<br /> +Friends You Never Had Before!!!</b><br /> +<br /> +(Gambling allowed)</div> + +<p>Suddenly Toryl stopped and +played with several switches and +dials on the crypterpreter.</p> + +<p>"<i>What is wrong, Brother?</i>" +asked the puzzled Sartan.</p> + +<p>"<i>I receive no direct translation +for the term 'gambling'.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>What is the closest term the +machine gives?</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Fraternizing.</i>"</p> + +<p>Sartan laughed. "<i>Now it is you +who fret, Toryl. According to +the signpost legends 'fraternizing' +would seem to be accurate.</i>"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A steady rolling sound of passionless +one-armed bandits +drowned out all other noise in +Okie's Oasis Bar. As a result, +Toryl and Sartan drew little attention +when they entered. Except +for their blue-metallic space +suits they looked like and <i>were</i> +ordinary humans.</p> + +<p>They proceeded rather timidly +toward the bar. Okie, the proprietor, +was on duty readying +the place for the night shift. +Toryl held up his hand. The crypterpreter +had already informed +him that oral conversation was +the manner of communication on +the strange planet. Such conversation +had long ago been abandoned +on the planet Capella, but +learned men such as Toryl and +Sartan were familiar with how +it was done, though when they +spoke they sometimes had to +halt between syllables.</p> + +<p>"How-dy!" Toryl flashed a +wide grin at the barkeep.</p> + +<p>"Just hold your horses there, +mister!" was Okie's sharp reply. +"You ain't the only snake in this +desert. There's four customers +ahead of you!"</p> + +<p>Sartan transmitted an admonishing +thought to his companion. +"<i>Toryl, you should have noticed +that the man was busy. He +has only two hands.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Forgive me, Brother, I was +blinded by my own excitement.</i>"</p> + +<p>The two Capellans waited and +were soon attracted by the silver-handled +machines that seemed +to have most of the customers +fascinated.</p> + +<p>Sartan wandered over to +where a small crowd of men was +gathered around a single machine. +A huge man, raw-boned +and crimson-faced, wearing surplus +army suntans, was operating +the machine.</p> + +<p>The big man dropped a large +coin into a slot. He gave the silver +handle a vicious snap. It +made a discordant, bone-crushing +sound. Three little wheels, visible +under glass, spun dizzily. +Anxious, screwed-up faces looked +on as the first little wheel +stopped. <i>Bell Fruit.</i></p> + +<p>A collective gasp came from +the small crowd. The second little +wheel stopped. <i>Bell Fruit.</i></p> + +<p>Another gasp.</p> + +<p>Sartan touched the arm of the +man operating the gambling device. +"I beg your pardon, but +could you please tell me—"</p> + +<p>The big man wheeled around +like a bear aroused from hibernation. +"Hands off, mister! You +trying to jinx me?"</p> + +<p>The third little wheel stopped. +<i>Lemon.</i></p> + +<p>The crowd groaned. The big +man turned on Sartan again, a +wild and furious look in his eye. +"You jinxed me! Damn you, I +oughta' bust you one right in the +snout!!"</p> + +<p>"My humble apol-o-gies, sir," +the bewildered Sartan began.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you your humble +apologies right back with my +fist," roared the gambler.</p> + +<p>Toryl quickly made his way +through the small crowd which +by now was itching to witness a +fight. "Ex-cuse me, sir, but my +friend did not real-ize—"</p> + +<p>"The hell he didn't!" The +gambler fumed. "He was trying +to jinx me, by God! And I'm +gonna teach him to keep his +paws—"</p> + +<p>"Okay, okay, you guys, break +it up!!" It was Okie, massive +and mean looking, using his barrel +belly to push his way through +to the two aliens and the unlucky +gambler. "What's goin' on here, +Smokey?" he inquired of the +gambler.</p> + +<p>"Okie, I had a jackpot workin' +when this dumb jerk here ups +and grabs my arm—"</p> + +<p>Toryl interrupted with, "My +friend is sorry for what he did, +sir."</p> + +<p>Okie stabbed a cigar into his +mouth. "Who <i>are</i> you guys anyhow? +Where'd you dig up them +crazy coveralls?"</p> + +<p>"Sure a queer way to dress in +this heat," spoke a voice from +the crowd.</p> + +<p>This was the moment of pride +that Toryl and Sartan had looked +forward to. They both +grinned confident grins. "We +have come to you from Capella," +he said with some exultation.</p> + +<p>Okie's face went blank. "Capella! +Where the hell is that?"</p> + +<p>"Sounds like one of them +damn hick towns in California," +said Smokey, the gambler.</p> + +<p>Toryl, somewhat deflated, but +by no means defeated, hastened +to elucidate. "Capella is lo-cat-ed +in the con-stell-a-tion which you +call Auriga."</p> + +<p>"Anybody know what the hell +he's talking about?" asked the +annoyed saloonkeeper.</p> + +<p>Toryl and Sartan exchanged +troubled glances. Sartan took up +the cudgel. "Auriga is a constellation, +a star cluster, sir. It is +forty-two million light years +away."</p> + +<p>"What in tarnation is a light +year?" asked an old-timer in the +group.</p> + +<p>Another replied, "They must +be from Alaska. They got light +years up there, sometimes stays +light the whole confounded year +'round."</p> + +<p>"That must be it," agreed +Okie, "and that's why they're +wearin' them crazy suits." The +saloonkeeper unloosed a grim +laugh. "You can take them arctic +pajamas off now, boys. +Weather's kinda warm in these +parts!"</p> + +<p>"Hey, fellas!" a voice shot +out, "didya bring any Eskimo +babes down with you?"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The crowd roared approval at +the witticism.</p> + +<p>Toryl transmitted a depressing +thought to his companion. "<i>I +fear they do not believe us, Sartan.</i>"</p> + +<p>Sartan did not get the opportunity +to answer immediately.</p> + +<p>"Listen, you guys," Okie +pounded his fat finger into Sartan's +chest. "I want you to behave +yourselves, understand? +Now that means lay off the customers +while they're at the +games. You wanna gamble there +is plenty of machines available. +I got a respectable place, I +wanna keep it that way!" He +turned and addressed the other +men. "All right, boys, fun's over! +No fight today! Drink up and +gamble your money away. Let's +get back to the games."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>It was necessary for Toryl to +use the crypterpreter to translate +the various signs along the +bar. Okie saw the small cylindrical +machine sitting on the bar. +His curiosity bested him. He +gave it a more thorough examination +than a dog gives a fireplug.</p> + +<p>Some of the signs read: +"<b>DOUBLE BOURBON—$2.10</b>" "<b>COOL +GIN RICKEY—$1.25</b>" "<b>IN GOD WE +TRUST, BUT NOBODY ELSE!</b>" "<b>RUM +COLLINS—$1</b>" "<b>A FRIEND IN NEED +IS A FRIEND INDEED</b>" "<b>NO INDIANS +SERVED HERE</b>" and "<b>SCOTCH—IMPORTED, +$1.50—DOMESTIC, +$1.30</b>."</p> + +<p>"Cool gin rick-ey," said Toryl.</p> + +<p>"Comin' right up," Okie mumbled, +his attention still wrapped +around the crypterpreter. "Say, +what is this gadget anyway?"</p> + +<p>"It is a cryp-terp-reter," Toryl +beamed with pride. "It en-ables +us to un-der-stand and speak +your lan-guage."</p> + +<p>"Aw, go on!" Okie managed a +fainthearted grin, uncertain of +whether his leg was being pulled. +"Come on now, tell me what +it is."</p> + +<p>"But I have just told you, +sir."</p> + +<p>The barkeep cursed under his +breath. "Two gin rickeys, did you +say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Okie brought the drinks.</p> + +<p>Sartan smiled broadly. "Thank +you ex-ceed-ing-ly."</p> + +<p>"That'll be two-fifty."</p> + +<p>Toryl raised his glass as +though making a toast. "Two-fif-ty!" +he repeated.</p> + +<p>Okie caught his arm and +brought the glass down.</p> + +<p>"Two-fifty!" the barkeep said +with grim insistence.</p> + +<p>Sartan pursed his lips comprehendingly. +He removed a large +pentagonal piece of metal from +his pocket and gave it to Okie.</p> + +<p>Okie took the piece between +his fingers, examined it and +frowned. "I give up. What is +it?"</p> + +<p>Sartan had to glance at Toryl +for an answer. Toryl threw a +switch on the crypterpreter.</p> + +<p>"<i>Money</i>," Toryl silently advised +him.</p> + +<p>"Money," said Sartan to Okie.</p> + +<p>"You guys hold on and don't +drink up yet," growled the barkeep. +He then yelled in the direction +of the blackjack table. +"Hey, Nugget! Get on over here, +I need you!!"</p> + +<p>A wiry little man with a full, +unkempt beard, hustled over to +the bar. "Nugget McDermott at +yer service, Okie! What's yer +pleasure?" he asked with a +sunny smile.</p> + +<p>"Take a look at this." Okie +handed him the piece of metal.</p> + +<p>The old prospector turned it +over in his hands, bit it and then +held it in his palm as though to +judge its weight. His expert +opinion was, "It's gold, Okie," +and was uttered without a shred +of modesty.</p> + +<p>"Are you sure?"</p> + +<p>The old-timer was highly insulted. +"Am I sure!! Why you +lop-eared, sun-stroked jackass, +of course I'm sure!!! Nugget +McDermott is drawed to gold +like nails to a magnet! Why +when this here town was nothin' +but a patch of cactus—"</p> + +<p>"All right, all right," Okie +waved him off, "don't get your +gander up! Go on back to the +blackjack table and tell Sam to +give you a drink on the house."</p> + +<p>"Much obliged, Okie, much +obliged," said Nugget, doffing +his hat and trotting back to the +blackjack table.</p> + +<p>The barkeep's face was pure +sunshine when he turned to the +aliens again. "Gentlemen, with +this kind of a substitute you +don't need money in my place. +Drink up!"</p> + +<p>"Thank you ex-ceed-ing-ly," +said Sartan.</p> + +<p>Okie arbitrarily judged the +gold piece to be worth ten dollars. +"The management invites +you to try your luck, gentlemen. +Go on give it a whirl."</p> + +<p>Toryl and Sartan wore blank +expressions as Okie slapped seven +dollars and fifty cents change +on the bar—four silver dollars, +four half-dollars and six quarters.</p> + +<p>"Don't be bashful, gentlemen. +Okie's machines are friendly to +one and all," said the barkeep.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Toryl removed the change and +gave his companion two silver +dollars, two half-dollars and +three quarters.</p> + +<p>"<i>What is the purpose of the +machines?</i>" thought Sartan as +they approached the one-armed +bandits.</p> + +<p>"<i>I suppose that is what the +one called Okie wishes us to +learn.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Perhaps it is some type of +registration machine.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>It is doubtful. The gentleman +you disturbed has been at the +same machine since we arrived.</i>"</p> + +<p>Sartan gripped the handle of +a vacant machine. "<i>Do you think +it might be a kind of intelligence +test?</i>"</p> + +<p>In lieu of an answer Toryl focused +his attention on a small +card, above the machine, which +gave the winning combinations.</p> + +<p>"<i>There is that term again.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>What term?</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Gambling.</i>" Toryl pointed to +a line on the card warning minors +not to gamble. A look of +perplexity fell upon his face. "<i>I +am no longer sure the term has +anything to do with fraternizing</i>," +he observed mentally.</p> + +<p>"<i>Let us find out.</i>"</p> + +<p>Sartan placed a quarter in the +coin slot. The three little wheels +went spinning. Cherry. Lemon. +Lemon.</p> + +<p>Nothing.</p> + +<p>Toryl and Sartan looked at +each other, their faces blanker +than ever.</p> + +<p>"<i>Try it again.</i>"</p> + +<p>Sartan disposed of another +quarter. They waited. Lemon. +Plum. Plum.</p> + +<p>Nothing.</p> + +<p>Toryl inspected the machine +from every angle, like a man on +the outside trying to figure a +way in. "<i>Let me try it.</i>"</p> + +<p>He put a quarter in the slot.</p> + +<p>Three lemons.</p> + +<p>"<i>It isn't very interesting, is +it?</i>" thought Sartan.</p> + +<p>"<i>Why don't we try the larger +pieces?</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>A splendid idea, Brother.</i>"</p> + +<p>The larger coins did not fit. +Toryl proceeded to report this +sad state of affairs to Okie and +was amazed when, for the eight +large coins, Okie rewarded him +with twenty-four smaller ones. +He went back to his companion +at the one-armed bandit.</p> + +<p>They then dropped twenty consecutive +quarters into the appropriately +named machine without +getting so much as a single +quarter in return.</p> + +<p>"<i>It is puzzling, is it not, +Brother?</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Yes, Sartan. From all indications +it would seem to be a machine +totally without purpose.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>It does consume money.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>But why would one build a +machine whose sole purpose is to +consume money?</i>"</p> + +<p>Sartan gave it some hard +thought. "<i>I don't know!</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Remarkable!</i>" Toryl concluded. +"<i>But nothing is done without +a purpose.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Obviously we've found something +that is.</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>No, I do not believe that. Let +me have the electro-analyzer.</i>"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The aliens were so engrossed +in their problem as to be unaware +that Okie and two men at +the bar were casting suspicious +eyes on them.</p> + +<p>Sartan fished around in his +pocket and produced a small object +in the shape of an irregular +triangle. Toryl took the electro-analyzer +from him, removed the +cover and moved his finger +around inside. He replaced the +cover and slapped the electro-analyzer +against the side of the +one-armed bandit. When he took +his hand away the small object +stuck to the machine like a leech.</p> + +<p>Okie scratched his head and +addressed one of the two men at +the bar. "What the hell you suppose +they're doin', Sam? What's +that gadget for?"</p> + +<p>"Search me," replied Sam, a +well dressed, stoop-shouldered +gent, "but if you want my opinion +it doesn't look legal."</p> + +<p>"Hey, Nugget!" yelled the +barkeep.</p> + +<p>Again the little old prospector +hustled himself over to the bar.</p> + +<p>"Nugget McDermott at your +service! What'll it be, Okie?"</p> + +<p>"Go on over and get the sheriff. +Tell him there's two queer +characters here trying to jimmy +one of my machines in broad +daylight."</p> + +<p>The old man's feet kicked up +sawdust as he scampered out the +door. Okie kept his attention +riveted to the two aliens.</p> + +<p>Toryl was busy adjusting the +electro-analyzer to the best possible +position.</p> + +<p>"<i>What if it does not respond +to this machine?</i>" Sartan wanted +to know.</p> + +<p>"<i>I do not think the machine +contains any type of metal with +which we are unfamiliar. We +will have a reading in one minute.</i>"</p> + +<p>The aliens took a step backward +and waited.</p> + +<p>A sudden noise, like that of a +television tube exploding, jolted +everyone in the room, including +Toryl and Sartan. The blackjack +table emptied. Gamblers left +their machines. A semi-circle of +the curious formed around the +two aliens. Okie lit out from behind +the bar and elbowed his +way through the crowd.</p> + +<p>The aliens' concentration was +unbroken by the attention they +had aroused. With all the single +mindedness of religious fanatics +they continued to observe the +strange mechanical device.</p> + +<p>Okie was dumbfounded to find +the machine still in one piece +and doubly dumbfounded to discover +it was behaving in a most +unconventional manner. It was +emitting a low steady gurgling +sound and an occasional sputter +or burp. The legs of the machine +seemed unsteady. Its body shifted +back and forth in herky-jerky +motions like an old-fashioned +washing machine. The three +little Bell Fruit wheels were +spinning at the speed of an airplane +propellor. Okie thought +they might never stop again.</p> + +<p>"What the hell are you crazy +galoots doing to my machine!" +he bellowed.</p> + +<p>Before the aliens could answer +there was another explosive +sound, causing the crowd to +jump back several steps. Quarters +fell from the mouth of the +machine, slowly at first, then at +an alarming rate. The coins fell, +bounced and rolled all over the +floor. The crowd gulped with +fascination.</p> + +<p>"Holy catfish!" said one of the +men, "how long since that blasted +thing's paid off?"</p> + +<p>"Looks like this is the first +time," said one of the others.</p> + +<p>"You guys keep quiet!" yelled +Okie.</p> + +<p>The coins continued to fall for +what seemed like a record time. +The crowd was spellbound. Okie +watched in silent fury.</p> + +<p>And the aliens were more confused +than they had been when +the machine <i>wasn't</i> paying off.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The one-armed bandit finally +coughed out its last quarter. The +three Bell Fruit wheels came to +an abrupt halt, as though an inner +spring had snapped. The +machine broke down. Certain observers +later reported that the +poor thing actually <i>looked</i> exhausted.</p> + +<p>The sheriff burst in the door +with Nugget McDermott close +behind.</p> + +<p>"Sheriff, I want you to arrest +these two tinhorns!" cried Okie.</p> + +<p>"Tinhorns??" Sartan's face +was creased with bewilderment.</p> + +<p>"What's wrong, Okie?" asked +the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"Take a look for yourself! +These two bugged my machine +and then broke it down! Look at +that money all over the floor!"</p> + +<p>Toryl smiled. "We meant no +harm, sir—"</p> + +<p>"The hell you didn't mean no +harm! You were out to rob +me!"</p> + +<p>"We were only ex-per-i-ment-ing—"</p> + +<p>"There's their crooked experimenting +right there!" said Okie, +pointing a finger at the deactivated +one-armed bandit. "I want +them locked up until that machine's +paid for!"</p> + +<p>"All right," said the sheriff, +"you two better come with me."</p> + +<p>"But, sir," Sartan protested, +"we merely wanted to know how +the machine functioned. You see, +we are from Capella and—"</p> + +<p>"Capella!" exclaimed the sheriff. +"Where is that? I never +heard of the place."</p> + +<p>"Well, it is not a part of your +Earth."</p> + +<p>"Oh, well why didn't you say +so before!" The sheriff winked +at the crowd. "You mean you +boys are from out of this +world?"</p> + +<p>"That is correct," Sartan +grinned proudly.</p> + +<p>"Well, well! That makes a big +difference!" The sheriff turned +to the crowd. "All right, boys, +grab them and hustle them over +to the jail house!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>A group of men slowly closed +in on the two aliens.</p> + +<p>Toryl and Sartan backed away +toward the wall.</p> + +<p>"<i>I believe they are angry, +Brother</i>," thought Sartan.</p> + +<p>"<i>But why?</i>" inquired Toryl.</p> + +<p>"<i>I do not know. Do you suppose +the machine represented +some form of religious deity?</i>"</p> + +<p>"<i>Exceed-ing-ly possible</i>," Toryl +answered.</p> + +<p>As the men came closer Okie +yelled, "Just get them two +crackpots! I'll plug the first man +that touches that money!"</p> + +<p>The men were diverted by +Okie's warning. They didn't notice, +until it was almost too late, +that the two strangers were halfway +out the door.</p> + +<p>"Get after them!!" the sheriff +bellowed.</p> + +<p>The aliens ran as though their +lives were at stake, which was +true, following the same route +they had taken into town.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The crowd followed them as +far as the edge of town. From +there they hurled rocks.</p> + +<p>Toryl and Sartan continued to +run at breakneck speed, praying +they would reach the safety of +the ship. Once they looked behind +them and saw that the +crowd of angry men had given +up the chase.</p> + +<p>Halfway back to their ship +they passed a sign, though they +didn't bother to stop and read it.</p> + +<div class="sign"><b>YOU ARE NOW LEAVING<br /> +JUBILATION, U.S.A.!!</b><br /> +<br /> +The doggondest, cheeriest little<br /> +town in America! Come back soon!!</div> + + +<p class="theend">THE END</p> + + +<div class="trans1"><b>Transcriber's Note:</b><br /> + +This etext was produced from <i>Amazing Science Fiction Stories</i> +March 1959. 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 Jubilation, U.S.A., by G. L. 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Vandenburg + +Release Date: September 12, 2007 [EBook #22589] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JUBILATION, U.S.A. *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + JUBILATION, U.S.A. + + By G. L. VANDENBURG + + + _You've heard, I'm sure, about the two Martians who went into + a bar, saw a jukebox flashing and glittering, and said to it, + "What's a nice girl like you doing in a joint like this?" + Well, here's one about two Capellans and a slot-machine...._ + + +Toryl pointed the small crypterpreter toward the wooden, +horseshoe-shaped sign. The sign's legend was carved in bright yellow +letters. Sartan, Toryl's companion, watched up and down the open highway +for signs of life. In seconds the small cylindrical mechanism completed +the translation. + +The sign said: + + JUBILATION, U.S.A.!! + + The doggondest, cheeriest + little town in America! + +The two aliens smiled at each other. Unaccustomed to oral conversation, +they exchanged thoughts. + +"_The crypterpreter worked incredibly fast. The language is quite +simple. It would seem safe to proceed. The sign indicates +friendliness_," thought Toryl, the older of the two Capellans. + +"_Very well, Brother_," replied Sartan, "_though I still worry for the +safety of the ship_." + +"_Sartan, our instruments tell us that anyone who discovers the ship_," +Toryl explained, a trifle impatient, "_will show a remarkable degree of +curiosity before they display any hostility_." + +Sartan agreed to dismiss his worries and the two aliens began to walk +along the barren highway. Before them, at a great distance, they could +see a cluster of small frame buildings. When they had walked a hundred +feet or more they encountered another sign. + + JUBILATION, U.S.A.!! + + WELCOME, STRANGER! See America + first and begin with + JUBILATION! + +And several hundred feet further two more signs. + + THE ROTARY CLUB of Jubilation + welcomes and extends the warm + hand of friendship to you!!!! + You are now entering Paradise, + brother! + + HOWDY, STRANGER! COME RIGHT + ON IN, STAY AWHILE AND MAKE + YOURSELF TO HOME! + + --Jubilation Chamber of + Commerce-- + +As members of a peaceful race, Toryl and Sartan naturally found the +signs encouraging. They walked at a sprightly pace. + +A whirring noise behind them brought the two to a halt. They turned to +discover a pre-war Chevy choking its way along the road. The aliens +edged their way to a gulley along the side of the road. They were +confident of a friendly reception but, in the event their calculations +had been wrong, they poised themselves to make a break in the direction +of their ship. + +The ancient Chevy sputtered by. The driver was almost as ancient as the +car, a bearded fellow with a stogy stuck between his teeth and a crushed +hat on his head. + +The driver slowed down when he saw the aliens. "Howdy, strangers!" he +yelled cheerily. "Say, ain't you fellers a mite warm in them coveralls?" +He cackled merrily, put his foot to the floor and sped on by. + +Sartan looked at his companion. "_I am sorry, I should not have doubted +you, Brother. You were right. These people will welcome our visit. They +seem very cordial._" + +"_Good, Sartan. Let us continue._" + +One hundred yards further they were confronted by still another brace of +signs. They stopped once more. + + CITY LIMITS + (Gambling allowed) + + JUBILATION! WHERE TROUBLES + never come due, 'cause the + Good Lord takes a likin' to YOU! + + Where gloom and doom are outlawed + and there's never any sadness. + + Where a smile lights up the midnight + sky and gives off only gladness! + + (Gambling allowed) + +The second sign was another in the shape of a horseshoe. + + BEYOND THIS POINT YOU HAVE 4372 + FRIENDS YOU NEVER HAD BEFORE!!! + + (Gambling allowed) + +Suddenly Toryl stopped and played with several switches and dials on the +crypterpreter. + +"_What is wrong, Brother?_" asked the puzzled Sartan. + +"_I receive no direct translation for the term 'gambling'._" + +"_What is the closest term the machine gives?_" + +"_Fraternizing._" + +Sartan laughed. "_Now it is you who fret, Toryl. According to the +signpost legends 'fraternizing' would seem to be accurate._" + + * * * * * + +A steady rolling sound of passionless one-armed bandits drowned out all +other noise in Okie's Oasis Bar. As a result, Toryl and Sartan drew +little attention when they entered. Except for their blue-metallic space +suits they looked like and _were_ ordinary humans. + +They proceeded rather timidly toward the bar. Okie, the proprietor, was +on duty readying the place for the night shift. Toryl held up his hand. +The crypterpreter had already informed him that oral conversation was +the manner of communication on the strange planet. Such conversation had +long ago been abandoned on the planet Capella, but learned men such as +Toryl and Sartan were familiar with how it was done, though when they +spoke they sometimes had to halt between syllables. + +"How-dy!" Toryl flashed a wide grin at the barkeep. + +"Just hold your horses there, mister!" was Okie's sharp reply. "You +ain't the only snake in this desert. There's four customers ahead of +you!" + +Sartan transmitted an admonishing thought to his companion. "_Toryl, you +should have noticed that the man was busy. He has only two hands._" + +"_Forgive me, Brother, I was blinded by my own excitement._" + +The two Capellans waited and were soon attracted by the silver-handled +machines that seemed to have most of the customers fascinated. + +Sartan wandered over to where a small crowd of men was gathered around a +single machine. A huge man, raw-boned and crimson-faced, wearing surplus +army suntans, was operating the machine. + +The big man dropped a large coin into a slot. He gave the silver handle +a vicious snap. It made a discordant, bone-crushing sound. Three little +wheels, visible under glass, spun dizzily. Anxious, screwed-up faces +looked on as the first little wheel stopped. _Bell Fruit._ + +A collective gasp came from the small crowd. The second little wheel +stopped. _Bell Fruit._ + +Another gasp. + +Sartan touched the arm of the man operating the gambling device. "I beg +your pardon, but could you please tell me--" + +The big man wheeled around like a bear aroused from hibernation. "Hands +off, mister! You trying to jinx me?" + +The third little wheel stopped. _Lemon._ + +The crowd groaned. The big man turned on Sartan again, a wild and +furious look in his eye. "You jinxed me! Damn you, I oughta' bust you +one right in the snout!!" + +"My humble apol-o-gies, sir," the bewildered Sartan began. + +"I'll give you your humble apologies right back with my fist," roared +the gambler. + +Toryl quickly made his way through the small crowd which by now was +itching to witness a fight. "Ex-cuse me, sir, but my friend did not +real-ize--" + +"The hell he didn't!" The gambler fumed. "He was trying to jinx me, by +God! And I'm gonna teach him to keep his paws--" + +"Okay, okay, you guys, break it up!!" It was Okie, massive and mean +looking, using his barrel belly to push his way through to the two +aliens and the unlucky gambler. "What's goin' on here, Smokey?" he +inquired of the gambler. + +"Okie, I had a jackpot workin' when this dumb jerk here ups and grabs my +arm--" + +Toryl interrupted with, "My friend is sorry for what he did, sir." + +Okie stabbed a cigar into his mouth. "Who _are_ you guys anyhow? Where'd +you dig up them crazy coveralls?" + +"Sure a queer way to dress in this heat," spoke a voice from the crowd. + +This was the moment of pride that Toryl and Sartan had looked forward +to. They both grinned confident grins. "We have come to you from +Capella," he said with some exultation. + +Okie's face went blank. "Capella! Where the hell is that?" + +"Sounds like one of them damn hick towns in California," said Smokey, +the gambler. + +Toryl, somewhat deflated, but by no means defeated, hastened to +elucidate. "Capella is lo-cat-ed in the con-stell-a-tion which you call +Auriga." + +"Anybody know what the hell he's talking about?" asked the annoyed +saloonkeeper. + +Toryl and Sartan exchanged troubled glances. Sartan took up the cudgel. +"Auriga is a constellation, a star cluster, sir. It is forty-two million +light years away." + +"What in tarnation is a light year?" asked an old-timer in the group. + +Another replied, "They must be from Alaska. They got light years up +there, sometimes stays light the whole confounded year 'round." + +"That must be it," agreed Okie, "and that's why they're wearin' them +crazy suits." The saloonkeeper unloosed a grim laugh. "You can take them +arctic pajamas off now, boys. Weather's kinda warm in these parts!" + +"Hey, fellas!" a voice shot out, "didya bring any Eskimo babes down with +you?" + + * * * * * + +The crowd roared approval at the witticism. + +Toryl transmitted a depressing thought to his companion. "_I fear they +do not believe us, Sartan._" + +Sartan did not get the opportunity to answer immediately. + +"Listen, you guys," Okie pounded his fat finger into Sartan's chest. "I +want you to behave yourselves, understand? Now that means lay off the +customers while they're at the games. You wanna gamble there is plenty +of machines available. I got a respectable place, I wanna keep it that +way!" He turned and addressed the other men. "All right, boys, fun's +over! No fight today! Drink up and gamble your money away. Let's get +back to the games." + + * * * * * + +It was necessary for Toryl to use the crypterpreter to translate the +various signs along the bar. Okie saw the small cylindrical machine +sitting on the bar. His curiosity bested him. He gave it a more thorough +examination than a dog gives a fireplug. + +Some of the signs read: "DOUBLE BOURBON--$2.10" "COOL GIN RICKEY--$1.25" +"IN GOD WE TRUST, BUT NOBODY ELSE!" "RUM COLLINS--$1" "A FRIEND IN NEED +IS A FRIEND INDEED" "NO INDIANS SERVED HERE" and "SCOTCH--IMPORTED, +$1.50--DOMESTIC, $1.30." + +"Cool gin rick-ey," said Toryl. + +"Comin' right up," Okie mumbled, his attention still wrapped around the +crypterpreter. "Say, what is this gadget anyway?" + +"It is a cryp-terp-reter," Toryl beamed with pride. "It en-ables us to +un-der-stand and speak your lan-guage." + +"Aw, go on!" Okie managed a fainthearted grin, uncertain of whether his +leg was being pulled. "Come on now, tell me what it is." + +"But I have just told you, sir." + +The barkeep cursed under his breath. "Two gin rickeys, did you say?" + +"Yes." + +Okie brought the drinks. + +Sartan smiled broadly. "Thank you ex-ceed-ing-ly." + +"That'll be two-fifty." + +Toryl raised his glass as though making a toast. "Two-fif-ty!" he +repeated. + +Okie caught his arm and brought the glass down. + +"Two-fifty!" the barkeep said with grim insistence. + +Sartan pursed his lips comprehendingly. He removed a large pentagonal +piece of metal from his pocket and gave it to Okie. + +Okie took the piece between his fingers, examined it and frowned. "I +give up. What is it?" + +Sartan had to glance at Toryl for an answer. Toryl threw a switch on the +crypterpreter. + +"_Money_," Toryl silently advised him. + +"Money," said Sartan to Okie. + +"You guys hold on and don't drink up yet," growled the barkeep. He then +yelled in the direction of the blackjack table. "Hey, Nugget! Get on +over here, I need you!!" + +A wiry little man with a full, unkempt beard, hustled over to the bar. +"Nugget McDermott at yer service, Okie! What's yer pleasure?" he asked +with a sunny smile. + +"Take a look at this." Okie handed him the piece of metal. + +The old prospector turned it over in his hands, bit it and then held it +in his palm as though to judge its weight. His expert opinion was, "It's +gold, Okie," and was uttered without a shred of modesty. + +"Are you sure?" + +The old-timer was highly insulted. "Am I sure!! Why you lop-eared, +sun-stroked jackass, of course I'm sure!!! Nugget McDermott is drawed to +gold like nails to a magnet! Why when this here town was nothin' but a +patch of cactus--" + +"All right, all right," Okie waved him off, "don't get your gander up! +Go on back to the blackjack table and tell Sam to give you a drink on +the house." + +"Much obliged, Okie, much obliged," said Nugget, doffing his hat and +trotting back to the blackjack table. + +The barkeep's face was pure sunshine when he turned to the aliens again. +"Gentlemen, with this kind of a substitute you don't need money in my +place. Drink up!" + +"Thank you ex-ceed-ing-ly," said Sartan. + +Okie arbitrarily judged the gold piece to be worth ten dollars. "The +management invites you to try your luck, gentlemen. Go on give it a +whirl." + +Toryl and Sartan wore blank expressions as Okie slapped seven dollars +and fifty cents change on the bar--four silver dollars, four +half-dollars and six quarters. + +"Don't be bashful, gentlemen. Okie's machines are friendly to one and +all," said the barkeep. + + * * * * * + +Toryl removed the change and gave his companion two silver dollars, two +half-dollars and three quarters. + +"_What is the purpose of the machines?_" thought Sartan as they +approached the one-armed bandits. + +"_I suppose that is what the one called Okie wishes us to learn._" + +"_Perhaps it is some type of registration machine._" + +"_It is doubtful. The gentleman you disturbed has been at the same +machine since we arrived._" + +Sartan gripped the handle of a vacant machine. "_Do you think it might +be a kind of intelligence test?_" + +In lieu of an answer Toryl focused his attention on a small card, above +the machine, which gave the winning combinations. + +"_There is that term again._" + +"_What term?_" + +"_Gambling._" Toryl pointed to a line on the card warning minors not to +gamble. A look of perplexity fell upon his face. "_I am no longer sure +the term has anything to do with fraternizing_," he observed mentally. + +"_Let us find out._" + +Sartan placed a quarter in the coin slot. The three little wheels went +spinning. Cherry. Lemon. Lemon. + +Nothing. + +Toryl and Sartan looked at each other, their faces blanker than ever. + +"_Try it again._" + +Sartan disposed of another quarter. They waited. Lemon. Plum. Plum. + +Nothing. + +Toryl inspected the machine from every angle, like a man on the outside +trying to figure a way in. "_Let me try it._" + +He put a quarter in the slot. + +Three lemons. + +"_It isn't very interesting, is it?_" thought Sartan. + +"_Why don't we try the larger pieces?_" + +"_A splendid idea, Brother._" + +The larger coins did not fit. Toryl proceeded to report this sad state +of affairs to Okie and was amazed when, for the eight large coins, Okie +rewarded him with twenty-four smaller ones. He went back to his +companion at the one-armed bandit. + +They then dropped twenty consecutive quarters into the appropriately +named machine without getting so much as a single quarter in return. + +"_It is puzzling, is it not, Brother?_" + +"_Yes, Sartan. From all indications it would seem to be a machine +totally without purpose._" + +"_It does consume money._" + +"_But why would one build a machine whose sole purpose is to consume +money?_" + +Sartan gave it some hard thought. "_I don't know!_" + +"_Remarkable!_" Toryl concluded. "_But nothing is done without a +purpose._" + +"_Obviously we've found something that is._" + +"_No, I do not believe that. Let me have the electro-analyzer._" + + * * * * * + +The aliens were so engrossed in their problem as to be unaware that Okie +and two men at the bar were casting suspicious eyes on them. + +Sartan fished around in his pocket and produced a small object in the +shape of an irregular triangle. Toryl took the electro-analyzer from +him, removed the cover and moved his finger around inside. He replaced +the cover and slapped the electro-analyzer against the side of the +one-armed bandit. When he took his hand away the small object stuck to +the machine like a leech. + +Okie scratched his head and addressed one of the two men at the bar. +"What the hell you suppose they're doin', Sam? What's that gadget for?" + +"Search me," replied Sam, a well dressed, stoop-shouldered gent, "but if +you want my opinion it doesn't look legal." + +"Hey, Nugget!" yelled the barkeep. + +Again the little old prospector hustled himself over to the bar. + +"Nugget McDermott at your service! What'll it be, Okie?" + +"Go on over and get the sheriff. Tell him there's two queer characters +here trying to jimmy one of my machines in broad daylight." + +The old man's feet kicked up sawdust as he scampered out the door. Okie +kept his attention riveted to the two aliens. + +Toryl was busy adjusting the electro-analyzer to the best possible +position. + +"_What if it does not respond to this machine?_" Sartan wanted to know. + +"_I do not think the machine contains any type of metal with which we +are unfamiliar. We will have a reading in one minute._" + +The aliens took a step backward and waited. + +A sudden noise, like that of a television tube exploding, jolted +everyone in the room, including Toryl and Sartan. The blackjack table +emptied. Gamblers left their machines. A semi-circle of the curious +formed around the two aliens. Okie lit out from behind the bar and +elbowed his way through the crowd. + +The aliens' concentration was unbroken by the attention they had +aroused. With all the single mindedness of religious fanatics they +continued to observe the strange mechanical device. + +Okie was dumbfounded to find the machine still in one piece and doubly +dumbfounded to discover it was behaving in a most unconventional manner. +It was emitting a low steady gurgling sound and an occasional sputter or +burp. The legs of the machine seemed unsteady. Its body shifted back and +forth in herky-jerky motions like an old-fashioned washing machine. The +three little Bell Fruit wheels were spinning at the speed of an airplane +propellor. Okie thought they might never stop again. + +"What the hell are you crazy galoots doing to my machine!" he bellowed. + +Before the aliens could answer there was another explosive sound, +causing the crowd to jump back several steps. Quarters fell from the +mouth of the machine, slowly at first, then at an alarming rate. The +coins fell, bounced and rolled all over the floor. The crowd gulped with +fascination. + +"Holy catfish!" said one of the men, "how long since that blasted +thing's paid off?" + +"Looks like this is the first time," said one of the others. + +"You guys keep quiet!" yelled Okie. + +The coins continued to fall for what seemed like a record time. The +crowd was spellbound. Okie watched in silent fury. + +And the aliens were more confused than they had been when the machine +_wasn't_ paying off. + + * * * * * + +The one-armed bandit finally coughed out its last quarter. The three +Bell Fruit wheels came to an abrupt halt, as though an inner spring had +snapped. The machine broke down. Certain observers later reported that +the poor thing actually _looked_ exhausted. + +The sheriff burst in the door with Nugget McDermott close behind. + +"Sheriff, I want you to arrest these two tinhorns!" cried Okie. + +"Tinhorns??" Sartan's face was creased with bewilderment. + +"What's wrong, Okie?" asked the sheriff. + +"Take a look for yourself! These two bugged my machine and then broke it +down! Look at that money all over the floor!" + +Toryl smiled. "We meant no harm, sir--" + +"The hell you didn't mean no harm! You were out to rob me!" + +"We were only ex-per-i-ment-ing--" + +"There's their crooked experimenting right there!" said Okie, pointing a +finger at the deactivated one-armed bandit. "I want them locked up until +that machine's paid for!" + +"All right," said the sheriff, "you two better come with me." + +"But, sir," Sartan protested, "we merely wanted to know how the machine +functioned. You see, we are from Capella and--" + +"Capella!" exclaimed the sheriff. "Where is that? I never heard of the +place." + +"Well, it is not a part of your Earth." + +"Oh, well why didn't you say so before!" The sheriff winked at the +crowd. "You mean you boys are from out of this world?" + +"That is correct," Sartan grinned proudly. + +"Well, well! That makes a big difference!" The sheriff turned to the +crowd. "All right, boys, grab them and hustle them over to the jail +house!" + + * * * * * + +A group of men slowly closed in on the two aliens. + +Toryl and Sartan backed away toward the wall. + +"_I believe they are angry, Brother_," thought Sartan. + +"_But why?_" inquired Toryl. + +"_I do not know. Do you suppose the machine represented some form of +religious deity?_" + +"_Exceed-ing-ly possible_," Toryl answered. + +As the men came closer Okie yelled, "Just get them two crackpots! I'll +plug the first man that touches that money!" + +The men were diverted by Okie's warning. They didn't notice, until it +was almost too late, that the two strangers were halfway out the door. + +"Get after them!!" the sheriff bellowed. + +The aliens ran as though their lives were at stake, which was true, +following the same route they had taken into town. + + * * * * * + +The crowd followed them as far as the edge of town. From there they +hurled rocks. + +Toryl and Sartan continued to run at breakneck speed, praying they would +reach the safety of the ship. Once they looked behind them and saw that +the crowd of angry men had given up the chase. + +Halfway back to their ship they passed a sign, though they didn't bother +to stop and read it. + + YOU ARE NOW LEAVING + JUBILATION, U.S.A.!! + + The doggondest, cheeriest little + town in America! Come back soon!! + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note + +This etext was produced from _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_ March +1959. 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 Jubilation, U.S.A., by G. L. Vandenburg + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK JUBILATION, U.S.A. *** + +***** This file should be named 22589.txt or 22589.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/8/22589/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://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. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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