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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/30014-0.txt b/30014-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6cc6498 --- /dev/null +++ b/30014-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,298 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30014 *** + +[Illustration] + + + NATIVE SON + + _By + T. D. Hamm_ + + + Tommy hated Earth, knowing his mother + might go home to Mars without him. Worse, + would a robot secretly take her place?... + + +Tommy Benton, on his first visit to Earth, found the long-anticipated +wonders of twenty-first-century New York thrilling the first week, +boring and unhappy the second week, and at the end of the third he was +definitely ready to go home. + +The never-ending racket of traffic was torture to his abnormally acute +ears. Increased atmospheric pressure did funny things to his chest and +stomach. And quick and sure-footed on Mars, he struggled constantly +against the heavy gravity that made all his movements clumsy and +uncoordinated. + +The endless canyons of towering buildings, with their connecting +Skywalks, oppressed and smothered him. Remembering the endless vistas of +_rabbara_ fields beside a canal that was like an inland sea, +homesickness flooded over him. + +He hated the people who stared at him with either open or hidden +amusement. His Aunt Bee, for instance, who looked him up and down with +frank disapproval and said loudly, "For Heavens sake, Helen! Take him to +a _good_ tailor and get those bones covered up!" + +Was it his fault he was six inches taller than Terran boys his age, and +had long, thin arms and legs? Or that his chest was abnormally developed +to compensate for an oxygen-thin atmosphere? I'd like to see _her_, he +thought fiercely, out on the Flatlands; she'd be gasping like a +canal-fish out of water. + +Even his parents, happily riding the social merry-go-round of Terra, +after eleven years in the Martian flatlands, didn't seem to understand +how he felt. + +"Don't you _like_ Earth, Tommy?" queried his mother anxiously. + +"Oh ... it's all right, I guess." + +"... 'A nice place to visit' ..." said his father sardonically. + +"... 'but I wouldn't live here if they gave me the place!' ..." said his +mother, and they both burst out laughing for no reason that Tommy could +see. Of course, they did that lots of times at home and Tommy laughed +with them just for the warm, secure feeling of belonging. This time he +didn't feel like laughing. + +"When _are_ we going home?" he repeated stubbornly. + +His father pulled Tommy over in the crook of his arm and said gently, +"Well, not right away, son. As a matter of fact, how would you like to +stay here and go to school?" + +Tommy pulled away and looked at him incredulously. + +"I've _been_ to school!" + +"Well, yes," admitted his father. "But only to the colony schools. You +don't want to grow up and be an ignorant Martian sandfoot all your life, +do you?" + +"Yes, I do! I _want_ to be a Martian sandfoot. And I want to go home +where people don't _look_ at me and say, 'So this is your little +Martian!'" + +Benton, Sr., put his arm around Tommy's stiffly resistant shoulders. +"Look here, old man," he said persuasively. "I thought you wanted to be +a space engineer. You can't do that without an education you know. And +your Aunt Bee will take good care of you." + +Tommy faced him stubbornly. "I don't want to be any old spaceman. I want +to be a sandfoot like old Pete. And I want to go home." + +Helen bit back a smile at the two earnest, stubborn faces so +ridiculously alike, and hastened to avert the gathering storm. + +"Now look, fellows. Tommy's career doesn't have to be decided in the +next five minutes ... after all, he's only ten. He can make up his mind +later on if he wants to be an engineer or a _rabbara_ farmer. Right now, +he's going to stay here and go to school ... _and_ I'm staying with +him." + +Resolutely avoiding both crestfallen faces, Helen, having shepherded +Tommy to bed, returned to the living room acutely conscious of Big Tom's +bleak, hurt gaze at her back. + +"Helen, you're going to make a sissy out of the boy," he said at last. +"There isn't any reason why he can't stay here at home with Bee." + +Helen turned to face him. + +"Earth _isn't_ home to Tommy. And your sister Bee told him he ought to +be out playing football with the boys instead of hanging around the +house." + +"But she knows the doctor said he'd have to take it easy for a year till +he was accustomed to the change in gravity and air-pressure," he +answered incredulously. + +"Exactly. She also asked me," Helen went on grimly, "if I thought he'd +be less of a freak as he got older." + +Tom Benton swore. "Bee always did have less sense than the average hen," +he gritted. "My son a freak! Hell's-bells!" + +Tommy, arriving at the hall door in time to hear the tail-end of the +sentence, crept back to bed feeling numb and dazed. So even his father +thought he was a freak. + + * * * * * + +The last few days before parting was one of strain for all of them. If +Tommy was unnaturally subdued, no one noticed it; his parents were not +feeling any great impulse toward gaiety either. + +They all went dutifully sight-seeing as before; they saw the Zoo, and +went shopping on the Skywalks, and on the last day wound up at the great +showrooms of "Androids, Inc." + +Tommy had hated them on sight; they were at once too human and too +inhuman for comfort. The hotel was full of them, and most private homes +had at least one. Now they saw the great incubating vats, and the +processing and finally the showroom where one of the finished products +was on display as a maid, sweeping and dusting. + +"There's one that's a dead-ringer for you, Helen. If you were a little +better looking, that is." Tommy's dad pretended to compare them +judicially. Helen laughed, but Tommy looked at him with a resentfulness. +Comparing his mother to an Android.... + +"They say for a little extra you can get an exact resemblance. Maybe I'd +better have one fixed up like you to take back with me," Big Tom added +teasingly. Then as Helen's face clouded over, "Oh, hon, you know I was +only kidding. Let's get out of here; this place gives me the +collywobbles. Besides, I've got to pick up my watch." + +But his mother's face was still unhappy and Tommy glowered sullenly at +his father's back all the way to the watch-shop. + +It was a small shop, with an inconspicuous sign down in one corner of +the window that said only, "KRUMBEIN--watches," and was probably the +most famous shop of its kind in the world. Every spaceman landing on +Terra left his watch to be checked by the dusty, little old man who was +the genius of the place. Tommy ranged wide-eyed about the clock and +chronometer crammed interior. He stopped fascinated before the last +case. In it was a watch ... but, _what_ a watch! Besides the regulation +Terran dial, it had a second smaller dial that registered the +corresponding time on Mars. Tommy's whole heart went out to it in an +ecstasy of longing. He thought wistfully that if you could know what +time it was there, you could imagine what everyone was doing and it +wouldn't seem so far away. Haltingly, he tried to explain. + +"Look, Mom," he said breathlessly. "It's almost five o'clock at home. +Douwie will be coming up to the barn to be fed. Gosh, do you suppose old +Pete will remember about her?" + +His mother smiled at him reassuringly. "Of course he will, silly. Don't +forget he was the one who caught and tamed her for you." + +Tommy gulped as he thought of Douwie. Scarcely as tall as himself; the +big, rounded, mouselike ears, and the flat, cloven pads that could carry +her so swiftly over the sandy Martian flatlands. One of the last +dwindling herds of native Martian douwies, burden-carriers of a vanished +race, she had been Tommy's particular pride and joy for the last three +years. + +Behind him, Tommy heard his mother murmur under her breath, "Tom ... the +watch; _could_ we?" + +And his Dad regretfully, "It's a pretty expensive toy for a youngster, +Helen. And even a _rabbara_ raiser's bank account has limits." + +"Of course, dear; it was silly of me." Helen smiled a little ruefully. +"And if Mr. Krumbein has your watch ready, we _must_ go. Bee and some of +her friends are coming over, and it's only a few hours 'till you ... +leave." + +Big Tom squeezed her elbow gently, understandingly, as she blinked back +quick tears. Trailing after them, Tommy saw the little by-play and his +heart ached. The guilt-complex building up in him grew and deepened. + +He knew he had only to say, "Look, I don't mind staying. Aunt Bee and I +will get along swell," and everything would be all right again. Then the +terror of this new and complex world--as it would be without a familiar +face--swept over him and kept him silent. + +His overwrought feelings expressed themselves in a nervously rebelling +stomach, culminating in a disgraceful moment over the nearest gutter. +The rest of the afternoon he spent in bed recuperating. + +In the living room Aunt Bee spoke her mind in her usual, high-pitched +voice. + +"It's disgraceful, Helen. A boy his age.... None of the _Bentons_ ever +had nerves." + +His mother's reply was inaudible, but on the heels of his father's +deeper tones, Aunt Bee's voice rose in rasping indignation. + +"_Well!_ I never! And from my own brother, too. From now on don't come +to me for help with your spoiled brat. Good-_bye_!" + +The door slammed indignantly, his mother chuckled, and there was a +spontaneous burst of laughter. Tommy relaxed and lay back happily. +Anyway, that was the last of Aunt Bee! + + * * * * * + +The next hour or two passed in a flurry of ringing phones, people coming +and going, and last-minute words and reminders. Then suddenly it was +time to leave. Dad burst in for a last quick hug and a promise to send +him pictures of Douwie and her foal, due next month; Mother dropped a +hasty kiss on his hair and promised to hurry back from the Spaceport. +Then Tommy was alone, with a large, painful lump where his heart ought +to be. + +The only activity was the almost noiseless buzzing as the hotel android +ran the cleaner over the living room. Presently even that ceased, and +Tommy lay relaxed and inert, sleepily watching the curtains blow in and +out at the open window. Thirty stories above the street the noises were +pleasantly muffled and remote, and his senses drifted aimlessly to and +fro on the tides of half-sleep. + +Drowsily his mind wandered from the hotel's android servants ... to +the strictly utilitarian mechanical monstrosity at home, known +affectionately as "Old John" ... to the android showroom where they +had seen the one that Dad said looked like Mother.... + +He jolted suddenly, sickeningly awake. Suppose, his mind whispered +treacherously, suppose that Dad _had_ ordered one to take Mom's +place ... not on Mars, but _here_ while she returned to Mars with him. +Suppose that instead of Mom he discovered one of those _Things_ ... or +even worse, suppose he went on from day to day not even knowing.... + +It was a bad five minutes; he was wet with perspiration when he lay back +on his pillows, a shaky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He +had a secret defense against the Terror. He giggled a little at the +thought of what Aunt Bee would say if she knew. + +And what had brought him back from the edge of hysteria was the +triumphant knowledge that with the abnormally acute hearing bred in the +thin atmosphere of Mars, no robot ever created could hide from him the +infinitesimal ticking of the electronic relays that gave it life. Secure +at last, his overstrung nerves relaxed and he slid gratefully over the +edge of sleep. + +He woke abruptly, groping after some vaguely remembered sound. A soft +clicking of heels down the hall.... Of course, his mother back from the +Spaceport! Now she would be stopping at his door to see if he were +asleep. He lay silently; through his eyelashes he could see her outlined +in the soft light from the hall. She was coming in to see if he was +tucked in. In a moment he would jump up and startle her with a hug, as +she leaned over him. In a moment.... + +Screaming desperately, he was out of bed, backing heedlessly across the +room. He was still screaming as the low sill of the open window caught +him behind the knees and toppled him thirty stories to the street. + +Alone in the silent room, Helen Benton stood dazed, staring blindly at +the empty window. + +Tommy's parting gift from his father slid from her hand and lay on the +carpet, still ticking gently. + +It was 9:23 on Mars. + + +The End + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Imagination Stories of Science and + Fantasy_ July 1953. 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 Native Son, by T. D. Hamm + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30014 *** diff --git a/30014-h.zip b/30014-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..82c2fb0 --- /dev/null +++ b/30014-h.zip diff --git a/30014-h/30014-h.htm b/30014-h/30014-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e4468da --- /dev/null +++ b/30014-h/30014-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,508 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Native Son, by T. D. Hamm + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2,.hd1 {text-align: center;} + h1 {margin-top: 0;} + h2 {font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.5;} + hr {width: 65%; margin: 2em auto; visibility: hidden;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + img {border: none;} + a:link,a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .bk1 {background: url("images/001.png") top left no-repeat; width: 600px; height: 390px; margin: 0 auto; overflow: hidden;} + .bk2 {padding-top: 190px; padding-left: 270px;} + .bk3 {margin: 2em auto; width: 25em;} + .bk3 p {text-indent: 2em;} + .figt {float: left; clear: left; margin: 15px; padding: 0; width: 146px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; min-height: 230px;} + .trn p {margin: 15px;} + .sp1 {font-size: 120%;} + .hd1 {margin-top: 2em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30014 ***</div> + +<div class="bk1"><div class="bk2"><h1><span class="sp1">NATIVE SON</span></h1> + +<h2><i>By<br /> +T. D. Hamm</i></h2></div></div> + +<div class="bk3"><p><big><b>Tommy hated Earth, knowing his mother +might go home to Mars without him. Worse, +would a robot secretly take her place?...</b></big></p></div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Tommy</span> Benton, on his first +visit to Earth, found the +long-anticipated wonders of +twenty-first-century New York +thrilling the first week, boring and +unhappy the second week, and at +the end of the third he was definitely +ready to go home.</p> + +<p>The never-ending racket of traffic +was torture to his abnormally +acute ears. Increased atmospheric +pressure did funny things to his +chest and stomach. And quick +and sure-footed on Mars, he struggled +constantly against the heavy +gravity that made all his movements +clumsy and uncoordinated.</p> + +<p>The endless canyons of towering +buildings, with their connecting +Skywalks, oppressed and smothered +him. Remembering the endless +vistas of <i>rabbara</i> fields beside a +canal that was like an inland sea, +homesickness flooded over him.</p> + +<p>He hated the people who stared +at him with either open or hidden +amusement. His Aunt Bee, for +instance, who looked him up and +down with frank disapproval and +said loudly, "For Heavens sake, +Helen! Take him to a <i>good</i> tailor +and get those bones covered up!"</p> + +<p>Was it his fault he was six inches +taller than Terran boys his age, +and had long, thin arms and legs? +Or that his chest was abnormally +developed to compensate for an +oxygen-thin atmosphere? I'd like +to see <i>her</i>, he thought fiercely, +out on the Flatlands; she'd be +gasping like a canal-fish out of +water.</p> + +<p>Even his parents, happily riding +the social merry-go-round of Terra, +after eleven years in the Martian +flatlands, didn't seem to understand +how he felt.</p> + +<p>"Don't you <i>like</i> Earth, Tommy?" +queried his mother anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh ... it's all right, I guess."</p> + +<p>"... 'A nice place to visit' ..." +said his father sardonically.</p> + +<p>"... 'but I wouldn't live here +if they gave me the place!' ..." +said his mother, and they both +burst out laughing for no reason +that Tommy could see. Of course, +they did that lots of times at +home and Tommy laughed with +them just for the warm, secure +feeling of belonging. This time +he didn't feel like laughing.</p> + +<p>"When <i>are</i> we going home?" he +repeated stubbornly.</p> + +<p>His father pulled Tommy over +in the crook of his arm and said +gently, "Well, not right away, +son. As a matter of fact, how +would you like to stay here and +go to school?"</p> + +<p>Tommy pulled away and looked +at him incredulously.</p> + +<p>"I've <i>been</i> to school!"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," admitted his father. +"But only to the colony schools. +You don't want to grow up and +be an ignorant Martian sandfoot +all your life, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do! I <i>want</i> to be a Martian +sandfoot. And I want to go +home where people don't <i>look</i> at +me and say, 'So this is your little +Martian!'"</p> + +<p>Benton, Sr., put his arm around +Tommy's stiffly resistant shoulders. +"Look here, old man," he +said persuasively. "I thought you +wanted to be a space engineer. +You can't do that without an education +you know. And your Aunt +Bee will take good care of you."</p> + +<p>Tommy faced him stubbornly. +"I don't want to be any old spaceman. +I want to be a sandfoot like +old Pete. And I want to go +home."</p> + +<p>Helen bit back a smile at the +two earnest, stubborn faces so +ridiculously alike, and hastened to +avert the gathering storm.</p> + +<p>"Now look, fellows. Tommy's +career doesn't have to be decided +in the next five minutes ... after +all, he's only ten. He can make +up his mind later on if he wants +to be an engineer or a <i>rabbara</i> +farmer. Right now, he's going to +stay here and go to school ... +<i>and</i> I'm staying with him."</p> + +<p>Resolutely avoiding both crestfallen +faces, Helen, having shepherded +Tommy to bed, returned to +the living room acutely conscious +of Big Tom's bleak, hurt gaze at +her back.</p> + +<p>"Helen, you're going to make +a sissy out of the boy," he said at +last. "There isn't any reason +why he can't stay here at home +with Bee."</p> + +<p>Helen turned to face him.</p> + +<p>"Earth <i>isn't</i> home to Tommy. +And your sister Bee told him he +ought to be out playing football +with the boys instead of hanging +around the house."</p> + +<p>"But she knows the doctor said +he'd have to take it easy for a year +till he was accustomed to the +change in gravity and air-pressure," +he answered incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. She also asked me," +Helen went on grimly, "if I +thought he'd be less of a freak as +he got older."</p> + +<p>Tom Benton swore. "Bee always +did have less sense than the +average hen," he gritted. "My +son a freak! Hell's-bells!"</p> + +<p>Tommy, arriving at the hall +door in time to hear the tail-end +of the sentence, crept back to bed +feeling numb and dazed. So even +his father thought he was a freak.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> last few days before parting +was one of strain for all of +them. If Tommy was unnaturally +subdued, no one noticed it; his +parents were not feeling any great +impulse toward gaiety either.</p> + +<p>They all went dutifully sight-seeing +as before; they saw the +Zoo, and went shopping on the +Skywalks, and on the last day +wound up at the great showrooms +of "Androids, Inc."</p> + +<p>Tommy had hated them on +sight; they were at once too human +and too inhuman for comfort. +The hotel was full of them, and +most private homes had at least +one. Now they saw the great incubating +vats, and the processing +and finally the showroom where +one of the finished products was +on display as a maid, sweeping +and dusting.</p> + +<p>"There's one that's a dead-ringer +for you, Helen. If you were a +little better looking, that is." Tommy's +dad pretended to compare +them judicially. Helen laughed, +but Tommy looked at him with a +resentfulness. Comparing his mother +to an Android....</p> + +<p>"They say for a little extra you +can get an exact resemblance. +Maybe I'd better have one fixed +up like you to take back with me," +Big Tom added teasingly. Then +as Helen's face clouded over, "Oh, +hon, you know I was only kidding. +Let's get out of here; this place +gives me the collywobbles. Besides, +I've got to pick up my watch."</p> + +<p>But his mother's face was still +unhappy and Tommy glowered sullenly +at his father's back all the +way to the watch-shop.</p> + +<p>It was a small shop, with an +inconspicuous sign down in one +corner of the window that said +only, "KRUMBEIN—watches," and +was probably the most famous +shop of its kind in the world. Every +spaceman landing on Terra +left his watch to be checked by +the dusty, little old man who was +the genius of the place. Tommy +ranged wide-eyed about the clock +and chronometer crammed interior. +He stopped fascinated before the +last case. In it was a watch ... +but, <i>what</i> a watch! Besides the +regulation Terran dial, it had a +second smaller dial that registered +the corresponding time on Mars. +Tommy's whole heart went out to +it in an ecstasy of longing. He +thought wistfully that if you could +know what time it was there, you +could imagine what everyone was +doing and it wouldn't seem so far +away. Haltingly, he tried to explain.</p> + +<p>"Look, Mom," he said breathlessly. +"It's almost five o'clock +at home. Douwie will be coming +up to the barn to be fed. Gosh, do +you suppose old Pete will remember +about her?"</p> + +<p>His mother smiled at him reassuringly. +"Of course he will, +silly. Don't forget he was the one +who caught and tamed her for +you."</p> + +<p>Tommy gulped as he thought of +Douwie. Scarcely as tall as himself; +the big, rounded, mouselike +ears, and the flat, cloven pads +that could carry her so swiftly +over the sandy Martian flatlands. +One of the last dwindling herds of +native Martian douwies, burden-carriers +of a vanished race, she +had been Tommy's particular pride +and joy for the last three years.</p> + +<p>Behind him, Tommy heard his +mother murmur under her breath, +"Tom ... the watch; <i>could</i> we?"</p> + +<p>And his Dad regretfully, "It's +a pretty expensive toy for a +youngster, Helen. And even a +<i>rabbara</i> raiser's bank account has +limits."</p> + +<p>"Of course, dear; it was silly of +me." Helen smiled a little ruefully. +"And if Mr. Krumbein has +your watch ready, we <i>must</i> go. +Bee and some of her friends are +coming over, and it's only a few +hours 'till you ... leave."</p> + +<p>Big Tom squeezed her elbow +gently, understandingly, as she +blinked back quick tears. Trailing +after them, Tommy saw the little +by-play and his heart ached. The +guilt-complex building up in him +grew and deepened.</p> + +<p>He knew he had only to say, +"Look, I don't mind staying. Aunt +Bee and I will get along swell," and +everything would be all right again. +Then the terror of this new and +complex world—as it would be +without a familiar face—swept +over him and kept him silent.</p> + +<p>His overwrought feelings expressed +themselves in a nervously +rebelling stomach, culminating in +a disgraceful moment over the +nearest gutter. The rest of the +afternoon he spent in bed recuperating.</p> + +<p>In the living room Aunt Bee +spoke her mind in her usual, high-pitched +voice.</p> + +<p>"It's disgraceful, Helen. A boy +his age.... None of the <i>Bentons</i> +ever had nerves."</p> + +<p>His mother's reply was inaudible, +but on the heels of his father's +deeper tones, Aunt Bee's +voice rose in rasping indignation.</p> + +<p>"<i>Well!</i> I never! And from my +own brother, too. From now on +don't come to me for help with +your spoiled brat. Good-<i>bye</i>!"</p> + +<p>The door slammed indignantly, +his mother chuckled, and there was +a spontaneous burst of laughter. +Tommy relaxed and lay back happily. +Anyway, that was the last of +Aunt Bee!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> next hour or two passed in +a flurry of ringing phones, people +coming and going, and last-minute +words and reminders. Then +suddenly it was time to leave. Dad +burst in for a last quick hug and a +promise to send him pictures of +Douwie and her foal, due next +month; Mother dropped a hasty +kiss on his hair and promised to +hurry back from the Spaceport. +Then Tommy was alone, with a +large, painful lump where his heart +ought to be.</p> + +<p>The only activity was the almost +noiseless buzzing as the hotel +android ran the cleaner over the +living room. Presently even that +ceased, and Tommy lay relaxed +and inert, sleepily watching the +curtains blow in and out at the +open window. Thirty stories above +the street the noises were pleasantly +muffled and remote, and his +senses drifted aimlessly to and fro +on the tides of half-sleep.</p> + +<p>Drowsily his mind wandered +from the hotel's android servants +... to the strictly utilitarian mechanical +monstrosity at home, +known affectionately as "Old +John" ... to the android showroom +where they had seen the one +that Dad said looked like Mother....</p> + +<p>He jolted suddenly, sickeningly +awake. Suppose, his mind whispered +treacherously, suppose that +Dad <i>had</i> ordered one to take +Mom's place ... not on Mars, +but <i>here</i> while she returned to +Mars with him. Suppose that instead +of Mom he discovered one +of those <i>Things</i> ... or even worse, +suppose he went on from day to +day not even knowing....</p> + +<p>It was a bad five minutes; he +was wet with perspiration when he +lay back on his pillows, a shaky +smile tugging at the corners of his +mouth. He had a secret defense +against the Terror. He giggled a +little at the thought of what Aunt +Bee would say if she knew.</p> + +<p>And what had brought him back +from the edge of hysteria was the +triumphant knowledge that with +the abnormally acute hearing bred +in the thin atmosphere of Mars, +no robot ever created could hide +from him the infinitesimal ticking +of the electronic relays that gave +it life. Secure at last, his overstrung +nerves relaxed and he slid +gratefully over the edge of sleep.</p> + +<p>He woke abruptly, groping after +some vaguely remembered +sound. A soft clicking of heels +down the hall.... Of course, his +mother back from the Spaceport! +Now she would be stopping at his +door to see if he were asleep. He +lay silently; through his eyelashes +he could see her outlined in the +soft light from the hall. She was +coming in to see if he was tucked +in. In a moment he would jump +up and startle her with a hug, as +she leaned over him. In a moment....</p> + +<p>Screaming desperately, he was +out of bed, backing heedlessly +across the room. He was still +screaming as the low sill of the +open window caught him behind +the knees and toppled him thirty +stories to the street.</p> + +<p>Alone in the silent room, Helen +Benton stood dazed, staring +blindly at the empty window.</p> + +<p>Tommy's parting gift from his +father slid from her hand and lay +on the carpet, still ticking gently.</p> + +<p>It was 9:23 on Mars.</p> + +<p class="hd1">The End</p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/002-2.jpg"><img src="images/002-1.jpg" width="146" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><big><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></big></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy</i> July 1953. +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.</p></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30014 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30014-h/images/001.png b/30014-h/images/001.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c4269b --- /dev/null +++ b/30014-h/images/001.png diff --git a/30014-h/images/002-1.jpg b/30014-h/images/002-1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..329ae67 --- /dev/null +++ b/30014-h/images/002-1.jpg diff --git a/30014-h/images/002-2.jpg b/30014-h/images/002-2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3427cdb --- /dev/null +++ b/30014-h/images/002-2.jpg diff --git a/30014.txt b/30014.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e4e8add --- /dev/null +++ b/30014.txt @@ -0,0 +1,690 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Native Son, by T. D. Hamm + +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: Native Son + +Author: T. D. Hamm + +Release Date: September 17, 2009 [EBook #30014] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATIVE SON *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration] + + + NATIVE SON + + _By + T. D. Hamm_ + + + Tommy hated Earth, knowing his mother + might go home to Mars without him. Worse, + would a robot secretly take her place?... + + +Tommy Benton, on his first visit to Earth, found the long-anticipated +wonders of twenty-first-century New York thrilling the first week, +boring and unhappy the second week, and at the end of the third he was +definitely ready to go home. + +The never-ending racket of traffic was torture to his abnormally acute +ears. Increased atmospheric pressure did funny things to his chest and +stomach. And quick and sure-footed on Mars, he struggled constantly +against the heavy gravity that made all his movements clumsy and +uncoordinated. + +The endless canyons of towering buildings, with their connecting +Skywalks, oppressed and smothered him. Remembering the endless vistas of +_rabbara_ fields beside a canal that was like an inland sea, +homesickness flooded over him. + +He hated the people who stared at him with either open or hidden +amusement. His Aunt Bee, for instance, who looked him up and down with +frank disapproval and said loudly, "For Heavens sake, Helen! Take him to +a _good_ tailor and get those bones covered up!" + +Was it his fault he was six inches taller than Terran boys his age, and +had long, thin arms and legs? Or that his chest was abnormally developed +to compensate for an oxygen-thin atmosphere? I'd like to see _her_, he +thought fiercely, out on the Flatlands; she'd be gasping like a +canal-fish out of water. + +Even his parents, happily riding the social merry-go-round of Terra, +after eleven years in the Martian flatlands, didn't seem to understand +how he felt. + +"Don't you _like_ Earth, Tommy?" queried his mother anxiously. + +"Oh ... it's all right, I guess." + +"... 'A nice place to visit' ..." said his father sardonically. + +"... 'but I wouldn't live here if they gave me the place!' ..." said his +mother, and they both burst out laughing for no reason that Tommy could +see. Of course, they did that lots of times at home and Tommy laughed +with them just for the warm, secure feeling of belonging. This time he +didn't feel like laughing. + +"When _are_ we going home?" he repeated stubbornly. + +His father pulled Tommy over in the crook of his arm and said gently, +"Well, not right away, son. As a matter of fact, how would you like to +stay here and go to school?" + +Tommy pulled away and looked at him incredulously. + +"I've _been_ to school!" + +"Well, yes," admitted his father. "But only to the colony schools. You +don't want to grow up and be an ignorant Martian sandfoot all your life, +do you?" + +"Yes, I do! I _want_ to be a Martian sandfoot. And I want to go home +where people don't _look_ at me and say, 'So this is your little +Martian!'" + +Benton, Sr., put his arm around Tommy's stiffly resistant shoulders. +"Look here, old man," he said persuasively. "I thought you wanted to be +a space engineer. You can't do that without an education you know. And +your Aunt Bee will take good care of you." + +Tommy faced him stubbornly. "I don't want to be any old spaceman. I want +to be a sandfoot like old Pete. And I want to go home." + +Helen bit back a smile at the two earnest, stubborn faces so +ridiculously alike, and hastened to avert the gathering storm. + +"Now look, fellows. Tommy's career doesn't have to be decided in the +next five minutes ... after all, he's only ten. He can make up his mind +later on if he wants to be an engineer or a _rabbara_ farmer. Right now, +he's going to stay here and go to school ... _and_ I'm staying with +him." + +Resolutely avoiding both crestfallen faces, Helen, having shepherded +Tommy to bed, returned to the living room acutely conscious of Big Tom's +bleak, hurt gaze at her back. + +"Helen, you're going to make a sissy out of the boy," he said at last. +"There isn't any reason why he can't stay here at home with Bee." + +Helen turned to face him. + +"Earth _isn't_ home to Tommy. And your sister Bee told him he ought to +be out playing football with the boys instead of hanging around the +house." + +"But she knows the doctor said he'd have to take it easy for a year till +he was accustomed to the change in gravity and air-pressure," he +answered incredulously. + +"Exactly. She also asked me," Helen went on grimly, "if I thought he'd +be less of a freak as he got older." + +Tom Benton swore. "Bee always did have less sense than the average hen," +he gritted. "My son a freak! Hell's-bells!" + +Tommy, arriving at the hall door in time to hear the tail-end of the +sentence, crept back to bed feeling numb and dazed. So even his father +thought he was a freak. + + * * * * * + +The last few days before parting was one of strain for all of them. If +Tommy was unnaturally subdued, no one noticed it; his parents were not +feeling any great impulse toward gaiety either. + +They all went dutifully sight-seeing as before; they saw the Zoo, and +went shopping on the Skywalks, and on the last day wound up at the great +showrooms of "Androids, Inc." + +Tommy had hated them on sight; they were at once too human and too +inhuman for comfort. The hotel was full of them, and most private homes +had at least one. Now they saw the great incubating vats, and the +processing and finally the showroom where one of the finished products +was on display as a maid, sweeping and dusting. + +"There's one that's a dead-ringer for you, Helen. If you were a little +better looking, that is." Tommy's dad pretended to compare them +judicially. Helen laughed, but Tommy looked at him with a resentfulness. +Comparing his mother to an Android.... + +"They say for a little extra you can get an exact resemblance. Maybe I'd +better have one fixed up like you to take back with me," Big Tom added +teasingly. Then as Helen's face clouded over, "Oh, hon, you know I was +only kidding. Let's get out of here; this place gives me the +collywobbles. Besides, I've got to pick up my watch." + +But his mother's face was still unhappy and Tommy glowered sullenly at +his father's back all the way to the watch-shop. + +It was a small shop, with an inconspicuous sign down in one corner of +the window that said only, "KRUMBEIN--watches," and was probably the +most famous shop of its kind in the world. Every spaceman landing on +Terra left his watch to be checked by the dusty, little old man who was +the genius of the place. Tommy ranged wide-eyed about the clock and +chronometer crammed interior. He stopped fascinated before the last +case. In it was a watch ... but, _what_ a watch! Besides the regulation +Terran dial, it had a second smaller dial that registered the +corresponding time on Mars. Tommy's whole heart went out to it in an +ecstasy of longing. He thought wistfully that if you could know what +time it was there, you could imagine what everyone was doing and it +wouldn't seem so far away. Haltingly, he tried to explain. + +"Look, Mom," he said breathlessly. "It's almost five o'clock at home. +Douwie will be coming up to the barn to be fed. Gosh, do you suppose old +Pete will remember about her?" + +His mother smiled at him reassuringly. "Of course he will, silly. Don't +forget he was the one who caught and tamed her for you." + +Tommy gulped as he thought of Douwie. Scarcely as tall as himself; the +big, rounded, mouselike ears, and the flat, cloven pads that could carry +her so swiftly over the sandy Martian flatlands. One of the last +dwindling herds of native Martian douwies, burden-carriers of a vanished +race, she had been Tommy's particular pride and joy for the last three +years. + +Behind him, Tommy heard his mother murmur under her breath, "Tom ... the +watch; _could_ we?" + +And his Dad regretfully, "It's a pretty expensive toy for a youngster, +Helen. And even a _rabbara_ raiser's bank account has limits." + +"Of course, dear; it was silly of me." Helen smiled a little ruefully. +"And if Mr. Krumbein has your watch ready, we _must_ go. Bee and some of +her friends are coming over, and it's only a few hours 'till you ... +leave." + +Big Tom squeezed her elbow gently, understandingly, as she blinked back +quick tears. Trailing after them, Tommy saw the little by-play and his +heart ached. The guilt-complex building up in him grew and deepened. + +He knew he had only to say, "Look, I don't mind staying. Aunt Bee and I +will get along swell," and everything would be all right again. Then the +terror of this new and complex world--as it would be without a familiar +face--swept over him and kept him silent. + +His overwrought feelings expressed themselves in a nervously rebelling +stomach, culminating in a disgraceful moment over the nearest gutter. +The rest of the afternoon he spent in bed recuperating. + +In the living room Aunt Bee spoke her mind in her usual, high-pitched +voice. + +"It's disgraceful, Helen. A boy his age.... None of the _Bentons_ ever +had nerves." + +His mother's reply was inaudible, but on the heels of his father's +deeper tones, Aunt Bee's voice rose in rasping indignation. + +"_Well!_ I never! And from my own brother, too. From now on don't come +to me for help with your spoiled brat. Good-_bye_!" + +The door slammed indignantly, his mother chuckled, and there was a +spontaneous burst of laughter. Tommy relaxed and lay back happily. +Anyway, that was the last of Aunt Bee! + + * * * * * + +The next hour or two passed in a flurry of ringing phones, people coming +and going, and last-minute words and reminders. Then suddenly it was +time to leave. Dad burst in for a last quick hug and a promise to send +him pictures of Douwie and her foal, due next month; Mother dropped a +hasty kiss on his hair and promised to hurry back from the Spaceport. +Then Tommy was alone, with a large, painful lump where his heart ought +to be. + +The only activity was the almost noiseless buzzing as the hotel android +ran the cleaner over the living room. Presently even that ceased, and +Tommy lay relaxed and inert, sleepily watching the curtains blow in and +out at the open window. Thirty stories above the street the noises were +pleasantly muffled and remote, and his senses drifted aimlessly to and +fro on the tides of half-sleep. + +Drowsily his mind wandered from the hotel's android servants ... to +the strictly utilitarian mechanical monstrosity at home, known +affectionately as "Old John" ... to the android showroom where they +had seen the one that Dad said looked like Mother.... + +He jolted suddenly, sickeningly awake. Suppose, his mind whispered +treacherously, suppose that Dad _had_ ordered one to take Mom's +place ... not on Mars, but _here_ while she returned to Mars with him. +Suppose that instead of Mom he discovered one of those _Things_ ... or +even worse, suppose he went on from day to day not even knowing.... + +It was a bad five minutes; he was wet with perspiration when he lay back +on his pillows, a shaky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He +had a secret defense against the Terror. He giggled a little at the +thought of what Aunt Bee would say if she knew. + +And what had brought him back from the edge of hysteria was the +triumphant knowledge that with the abnormally acute hearing bred in the +thin atmosphere of Mars, no robot ever created could hide from him the +infinitesimal ticking of the electronic relays that gave it life. Secure +at last, his overstrung nerves relaxed and he slid gratefully over the +edge of sleep. + +He woke abruptly, groping after some vaguely remembered sound. A soft +clicking of heels down the hall.... Of course, his mother back from the +Spaceport! Now she would be stopping at his door to see if he were +asleep. He lay silently; through his eyelashes he could see her outlined +in the soft light from the hall. She was coming in to see if he was +tucked in. In a moment he would jump up and startle her with a hug, as +she leaned over him. In a moment.... + +Screaming desperately, he was out of bed, backing heedlessly across the +room. He was still screaming as the low sill of the open window caught +him behind the knees and toppled him thirty stories to the street. + +Alone in the silent room, Helen Benton stood dazed, staring blindly at +the empty window. + +Tommy's parting gift from his father slid from her hand and lay on the +carpet, still ticking gently. + +It was 9:23 on Mars. + + +The End + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Imagination Stories of Science and + Fantasy_ July 1953. 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 Native Son, by T. D. Hamm + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATIVE SON *** + +***** This file should be named 30014.txt or 30014.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/0/1/30014/ + +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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D. Hamm + +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: Native Son + +Author: T. D. Hamm + +Release Date: September 17, 2009 [EBook #30014] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATIVE SON *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="bk1"><div class="bk2"><h1><span class="sp1">NATIVE SON</span></h1> + +<h2><i>By<br /> +T. D. Hamm</i></h2></div></div> + +<div class="bk3"><p><big><b>Tommy hated Earth, knowing his mother +might go home to Mars without him. Worse, +would a robot secretly take her place?...</b></big></p></div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Tommy</span> Benton, on his first +visit to Earth, found the +long-anticipated wonders of +twenty-first-century New York +thrilling the first week, boring and +unhappy the second week, and at +the end of the third he was definitely +ready to go home.</p> + +<p>The never-ending racket of traffic +was torture to his abnormally +acute ears. Increased atmospheric +pressure did funny things to his +chest and stomach. And quick +and sure-footed on Mars, he struggled +constantly against the heavy +gravity that made all his movements +clumsy and uncoordinated.</p> + +<p>The endless canyons of towering +buildings, with their connecting +Skywalks, oppressed and smothered +him. Remembering the endless +vistas of <i>rabbara</i> fields beside a +canal that was like an inland sea, +homesickness flooded over him.</p> + +<p>He hated the people who stared +at him with either open or hidden +amusement. His Aunt Bee, for +instance, who looked him up and +down with frank disapproval and +said loudly, "For Heavens sake, +Helen! Take him to a <i>good</i> tailor +and get those bones covered up!"</p> + +<p>Was it his fault he was six inches +taller than Terran boys his age, +and had long, thin arms and legs? +Or that his chest was abnormally +developed to compensate for an +oxygen-thin atmosphere? I'd like +to see <i>her</i>, he thought fiercely, +out on the Flatlands; she'd be +gasping like a canal-fish out of +water.</p> + +<p>Even his parents, happily riding +the social merry-go-round of Terra, +after eleven years in the Martian +flatlands, didn't seem to understand +how he felt.</p> + +<p>"Don't you <i>like</i> Earth, Tommy?" +queried his mother anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Oh ... it's all right, I guess."</p> + +<p>"... 'A nice place to visit' ..." +said his father sardonically.</p> + +<p>"... 'but I wouldn't live here +if they gave me the place!' ..." +said his mother, and they both +burst out laughing for no reason +that Tommy could see. Of course, +they did that lots of times at +home and Tommy laughed with +them just for the warm, secure +feeling of belonging. This time +he didn't feel like laughing.</p> + +<p>"When <i>are</i> we going home?" he +repeated stubbornly.</p> + +<p>His father pulled Tommy over +in the crook of his arm and said +gently, "Well, not right away, +son. As a matter of fact, how +would you like to stay here and +go to school?"</p> + +<p>Tommy pulled away and looked +at him incredulously.</p> + +<p>"I've <i>been</i> to school!"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes," admitted his father. +"But only to the colony schools. +You don't want to grow up and +be an ignorant Martian sandfoot +all your life, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I do! I <i>want</i> to be a Martian +sandfoot. And I want to go +home where people don't <i>look</i> at +me and say, 'So this is your little +Martian!'"</p> + +<p>Benton, Sr., put his arm around +Tommy's stiffly resistant shoulders. +"Look here, old man," he +said persuasively. "I thought you +wanted to be a space engineer. +You can't do that without an education +you know. And your Aunt +Bee will take good care of you."</p> + +<p>Tommy faced him stubbornly. +"I don't want to be any old spaceman. +I want to be a sandfoot like +old Pete. And I want to go +home."</p> + +<p>Helen bit back a smile at the +two earnest, stubborn faces so +ridiculously alike, and hastened to +avert the gathering storm.</p> + +<p>"Now look, fellows. Tommy's +career doesn't have to be decided +in the next five minutes ... after +all, he's only ten. He can make +up his mind later on if he wants +to be an engineer or a <i>rabbara</i> +farmer. Right now, he's going to +stay here and go to school ... +<i>and</i> I'm staying with him."</p> + +<p>Resolutely avoiding both crestfallen +faces, Helen, having shepherded +Tommy to bed, returned to +the living room acutely conscious +of Big Tom's bleak, hurt gaze at +her back.</p> + +<p>"Helen, you're going to make +a sissy out of the boy," he said at +last. "There isn't any reason +why he can't stay here at home +with Bee."</p> + +<p>Helen turned to face him.</p> + +<p>"Earth <i>isn't</i> home to Tommy. +And your sister Bee told him he +ought to be out playing football +with the boys instead of hanging +around the house."</p> + +<p>"But she knows the doctor said +he'd have to take it easy for a year +till he was accustomed to the +change in gravity and air-pressure," +he answered incredulously.</p> + +<p>"Exactly. She also asked me," +Helen went on grimly, "if I +thought he'd be less of a freak as +he got older."</p> + +<p>Tom Benton swore. "Bee always +did have less sense than the +average hen," he gritted. "My +son a freak! Hell's-bells!"</p> + +<p>Tommy, arriving at the hall +door in time to hear the tail-end +of the sentence, crept back to bed +feeling numb and dazed. So even +his father thought he was a freak.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> last few days before parting +was one of strain for all of +them. If Tommy was unnaturally +subdued, no one noticed it; his +parents were not feeling any great +impulse toward gaiety either.</p> + +<p>They all went dutifully sight-seeing +as before; they saw the +Zoo, and went shopping on the +Skywalks, and on the last day +wound up at the great showrooms +of "Androids, Inc."</p> + +<p>Tommy had hated them on +sight; they were at once too human +and too inhuman for comfort. +The hotel was full of them, and +most private homes had at least +one. Now they saw the great incubating +vats, and the processing +and finally the showroom where +one of the finished products was +on display as a maid, sweeping +and dusting.</p> + +<p>"There's one that's a dead-ringer +for you, Helen. If you were a +little better looking, that is." Tommy's +dad pretended to compare +them judicially. Helen laughed, +but Tommy looked at him with a +resentfulness. Comparing his mother +to an Android....</p> + +<p>"They say for a little extra you +can get an exact resemblance. +Maybe I'd better have one fixed +up like you to take back with me," +Big Tom added teasingly. Then +as Helen's face clouded over, "Oh, +hon, you know I was only kidding. +Let's get out of here; this place +gives me the collywobbles. Besides, +I've got to pick up my watch."</p> + +<p>But his mother's face was still +unhappy and Tommy glowered sullenly +at his father's back all the +way to the watch-shop.</p> + +<p>It was a small shop, with an +inconspicuous sign down in one +corner of the window that said +only, "KRUMBEIN—watches," and +was probably the most famous +shop of its kind in the world. Every +spaceman landing on Terra +left his watch to be checked by +the dusty, little old man who was +the genius of the place. Tommy +ranged wide-eyed about the clock +and chronometer crammed interior. +He stopped fascinated before the +last case. In it was a watch ... +but, <i>what</i> a watch! Besides the +regulation Terran dial, it had a +second smaller dial that registered +the corresponding time on Mars. +Tommy's whole heart went out to +it in an ecstasy of longing. He +thought wistfully that if you could +know what time it was there, you +could imagine what everyone was +doing and it wouldn't seem so far +away. Haltingly, he tried to explain.</p> + +<p>"Look, Mom," he said breathlessly. +"It's almost five o'clock +at home. Douwie will be coming +up to the barn to be fed. Gosh, do +you suppose old Pete will remember +about her?"</p> + +<p>His mother smiled at him reassuringly. +"Of course he will, +silly. Don't forget he was the one +who caught and tamed her for +you."</p> + +<p>Tommy gulped as he thought of +Douwie. Scarcely as tall as himself; +the big, rounded, mouselike +ears, and the flat, cloven pads +that could carry her so swiftly +over the sandy Martian flatlands. +One of the last dwindling herds of +native Martian douwies, burden-carriers +of a vanished race, she +had been Tommy's particular pride +and joy for the last three years.</p> + +<p>Behind him, Tommy heard his +mother murmur under her breath, +"Tom ... the watch; <i>could</i> we?"</p> + +<p>And his Dad regretfully, "It's +a pretty expensive toy for a +youngster, Helen. And even a +<i>rabbara</i> raiser's bank account has +limits."</p> + +<p>"Of course, dear; it was silly of +me." Helen smiled a little ruefully. +"And if Mr. Krumbein has +your watch ready, we <i>must</i> go. +Bee and some of her friends are +coming over, and it's only a few +hours 'till you ... leave."</p> + +<p>Big Tom squeezed her elbow +gently, understandingly, as she +blinked back quick tears. Trailing +after them, Tommy saw the little +by-play and his heart ached. The +guilt-complex building up in him +grew and deepened.</p> + +<p>He knew he had only to say, +"Look, I don't mind staying. Aunt +Bee and I will get along swell," and +everything would be all right again. +Then the terror of this new and +complex world—as it would be +without a familiar face—swept +over him and kept him silent.</p> + +<p>His overwrought feelings expressed +themselves in a nervously +rebelling stomach, culminating in +a disgraceful moment over the +nearest gutter. The rest of the +afternoon he spent in bed recuperating.</p> + +<p>In the living room Aunt Bee +spoke her mind in her usual, high-pitched +voice.</p> + +<p>"It's disgraceful, Helen. A boy +his age.... None of the <i>Bentons</i> +ever had nerves."</p> + +<p>His mother's reply was inaudible, +but on the heels of his father's +deeper tones, Aunt Bee's +voice rose in rasping indignation.</p> + +<p>"<i>Well!</i> I never! And from my +own brother, too. From now on +don't come to me for help with +your spoiled brat. Good-<i>bye</i>!"</p> + +<p>The door slammed indignantly, +his mother chuckled, and there was +a spontaneous burst of laughter. +Tommy relaxed and lay back happily. +Anyway, that was the last of +Aunt Bee!</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">The</span> next hour or two passed in +a flurry of ringing phones, people +coming and going, and last-minute +words and reminders. Then +suddenly it was time to leave. Dad +burst in for a last quick hug and a +promise to send him pictures of +Douwie and her foal, due next +month; Mother dropped a hasty +kiss on his hair and promised to +hurry back from the Spaceport. +Then Tommy was alone, with a +large, painful lump where his heart +ought to be.</p> + +<p>The only activity was the almost +noiseless buzzing as the hotel +android ran the cleaner over the +living room. Presently even that +ceased, and Tommy lay relaxed +and inert, sleepily watching the +curtains blow in and out at the +open window. Thirty stories above +the street the noises were pleasantly +muffled and remote, and his +senses drifted aimlessly to and fro +on the tides of half-sleep.</p> + +<p>Drowsily his mind wandered +from the hotel's android servants +... to the strictly utilitarian mechanical +monstrosity at home, +known affectionately as "Old +John" ... to the android showroom +where they had seen the one +that Dad said looked like Mother....</p> + +<p>He jolted suddenly, sickeningly +awake. Suppose, his mind whispered +treacherously, suppose that +Dad <i>had</i> ordered one to take +Mom's place ... not on Mars, +but <i>here</i> while she returned to +Mars with him. Suppose that instead +of Mom he discovered one +of those <i>Things</i> ... or even worse, +suppose he went on from day to +day not even knowing....</p> + +<p>It was a bad five minutes; he +was wet with perspiration when he +lay back on his pillows, a shaky +smile tugging at the corners of his +mouth. He had a secret defense +against the Terror. He giggled a +little at the thought of what Aunt +Bee would say if she knew.</p> + +<p>And what had brought him back +from the edge of hysteria was the +triumphant knowledge that with +the abnormally acute hearing bred +in the thin atmosphere of Mars, +no robot ever created could hide +from him the infinitesimal ticking +of the electronic relays that gave +it life. Secure at last, his overstrung +nerves relaxed and he slid +gratefully over the edge of sleep.</p> + +<p>He woke abruptly, groping after +some vaguely remembered +sound. A soft clicking of heels +down the hall.... Of course, his +mother back from the Spaceport! +Now she would be stopping at his +door to see if he were asleep. He +lay silently; through his eyelashes +he could see her outlined in the +soft light from the hall. She was +coming in to see if he was tucked +in. In a moment he would jump +up and startle her with a hug, as +she leaned over him. In a moment....</p> + +<p>Screaming desperately, he was +out of bed, backing heedlessly +across the room. He was still +screaming as the low sill of the +open window caught him behind +the knees and toppled him thirty +stories to the street.</p> + +<p>Alone in the silent room, Helen +Benton stood dazed, staring +blindly at the empty window.</p> + +<p>Tommy's parting gift from his +father slid from her hand and lay +on the carpet, still ticking gently.</p> + +<p>It was 9:23 on Mars.</p> + +<p class="hd1">The End</p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"><a href="images/002-2.jpg"><img src="images/002-1.jpg" width="146" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><big><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></big></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy</i> July 1953. +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.</p></div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Native Son, by T. D. 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D. Hamm + +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: Native Son + +Author: T. D. Hamm + +Release Date: September 17, 2009 [EBook #30014] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NATIVE SON *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +[Illustration] + + + NATIVE SON + + _By + T. D. Hamm_ + + + Tommy hated Earth, knowing his mother + might go home to Mars without him. Worse, + would a robot secretly take her place?... + + +Tommy Benton, on his first visit to Earth, found the long-anticipated +wonders of twenty-first-century New York thrilling the first week, +boring and unhappy the second week, and at the end of the third he was +definitely ready to go home. + +The never-ending racket of traffic was torture to his abnormally acute +ears. Increased atmospheric pressure did funny things to his chest and +stomach. And quick and sure-footed on Mars, he struggled constantly +against the heavy gravity that made all his movements clumsy and +uncoordinated. + +The endless canyons of towering buildings, with their connecting +Skywalks, oppressed and smothered him. Remembering the endless vistas of +_rabbara_ fields beside a canal that was like an inland sea, +homesickness flooded over him. + +He hated the people who stared at him with either open or hidden +amusement. His Aunt Bee, for instance, who looked him up and down with +frank disapproval and said loudly, "For Heavens sake, Helen! Take him to +a _good_ tailor and get those bones covered up!" + +Was it his fault he was six inches taller than Terran boys his age, and +had long, thin arms and legs? Or that his chest was abnormally developed +to compensate for an oxygen-thin atmosphere? I'd like to see _her_, he +thought fiercely, out on the Flatlands; she'd be gasping like a +canal-fish out of water. + +Even his parents, happily riding the social merry-go-round of Terra, +after eleven years in the Martian flatlands, didn't seem to understand +how he felt. + +"Don't you _like_ Earth, Tommy?" queried his mother anxiously. + +"Oh ... it's all right, I guess." + +"... 'A nice place to visit' ..." said his father sardonically. + +"... 'but I wouldn't live here if they gave me the place!' ..." said his +mother, and they both burst out laughing for no reason that Tommy could +see. Of course, they did that lots of times at home and Tommy laughed +with them just for the warm, secure feeling of belonging. This time he +didn't feel like laughing. + +"When _are_ we going home?" he repeated stubbornly. + +His father pulled Tommy over in the crook of his arm and said gently, +"Well, not right away, son. As a matter of fact, how would you like to +stay here and go to school?" + +Tommy pulled away and looked at him incredulously. + +"I've _been_ to school!" + +"Well, yes," admitted his father. "But only to the colony schools. You +don't want to grow up and be an ignorant Martian sandfoot all your life, +do you?" + +"Yes, I do! I _want_ to be a Martian sandfoot. And I want to go home +where people don't _look_ at me and say, 'So this is your little +Martian!'" + +Benton, Sr., put his arm around Tommy's stiffly resistant shoulders. +"Look here, old man," he said persuasively. "I thought you wanted to be +a space engineer. You can't do that without an education you know. And +your Aunt Bee will take good care of you." + +Tommy faced him stubbornly. "I don't want to be any old spaceman. I want +to be a sandfoot like old Pete. And I want to go home." + +Helen bit back a smile at the two earnest, stubborn faces so +ridiculously alike, and hastened to avert the gathering storm. + +"Now look, fellows. Tommy's career doesn't have to be decided in the +next five minutes ... after all, he's only ten. He can make up his mind +later on if he wants to be an engineer or a _rabbara_ farmer. Right now, +he's going to stay here and go to school ... _and_ I'm staying with +him." + +Resolutely avoiding both crestfallen faces, Helen, having shepherded +Tommy to bed, returned to the living room acutely conscious of Big Tom's +bleak, hurt gaze at her back. + +"Helen, you're going to make a sissy out of the boy," he said at last. +"There isn't any reason why he can't stay here at home with Bee." + +Helen turned to face him. + +"Earth _isn't_ home to Tommy. And your sister Bee told him he ought to +be out playing football with the boys instead of hanging around the +house." + +"But she knows the doctor said he'd have to take it easy for a year till +he was accustomed to the change in gravity and air-pressure," he +answered incredulously. + +"Exactly. She also asked me," Helen went on grimly, "if I thought he'd +be less of a freak as he got older." + +Tom Benton swore. "Bee always did have less sense than the average hen," +he gritted. "My son a freak! Hell's-bells!" + +Tommy, arriving at the hall door in time to hear the tail-end of the +sentence, crept back to bed feeling numb and dazed. So even his father +thought he was a freak. + + * * * * * + +The last few days before parting was one of strain for all of them. If +Tommy was unnaturally subdued, no one noticed it; his parents were not +feeling any great impulse toward gaiety either. + +They all went dutifully sight-seeing as before; they saw the Zoo, and +went shopping on the Skywalks, and on the last day wound up at the great +showrooms of "Androids, Inc." + +Tommy had hated them on sight; they were at once too human and too +inhuman for comfort. The hotel was full of them, and most private homes +had at least one. Now they saw the great incubating vats, and the +processing and finally the showroom where one of the finished products +was on display as a maid, sweeping and dusting. + +"There's one that's a dead-ringer for you, Helen. If you were a little +better looking, that is." Tommy's dad pretended to compare them +judicially. Helen laughed, but Tommy looked at him with a resentfulness. +Comparing his mother to an Android.... + +"They say for a little extra you can get an exact resemblance. Maybe I'd +better have one fixed up like you to take back with me," Big Tom added +teasingly. Then as Helen's face clouded over, "Oh, hon, you know I was +only kidding. Let's get out of here; this place gives me the +collywobbles. Besides, I've got to pick up my watch." + +But his mother's face was still unhappy and Tommy glowered sullenly at +his father's back all the way to the watch-shop. + +It was a small shop, with an inconspicuous sign down in one corner of +the window that said only, "KRUMBEIN--watches," and was probably the +most famous shop of its kind in the world. Every spaceman landing on +Terra left his watch to be checked by the dusty, little old man who was +the genius of the place. Tommy ranged wide-eyed about the clock and +chronometer crammed interior. He stopped fascinated before the last +case. In it was a watch ... but, _what_ a watch! Besides the regulation +Terran dial, it had a second smaller dial that registered the +corresponding time on Mars. Tommy's whole heart went out to it in an +ecstasy of longing. He thought wistfully that if you could know what +time it was there, you could imagine what everyone was doing and it +wouldn't seem so far away. Haltingly, he tried to explain. + +"Look, Mom," he said breathlessly. "It's almost five o'clock at home. +Douwie will be coming up to the barn to be fed. Gosh, do you suppose old +Pete will remember about her?" + +His mother smiled at him reassuringly. "Of course he will, silly. Don't +forget he was the one who caught and tamed her for you." + +Tommy gulped as he thought of Douwie. Scarcely as tall as himself; the +big, rounded, mouselike ears, and the flat, cloven pads that could carry +her so swiftly over the sandy Martian flatlands. One of the last +dwindling herds of native Martian douwies, burden-carriers of a vanished +race, she had been Tommy's particular pride and joy for the last three +years. + +Behind him, Tommy heard his mother murmur under her breath, "Tom ... the +watch; _could_ we?" + +And his Dad regretfully, "It's a pretty expensive toy for a youngster, +Helen. And even a _rabbara_ raiser's bank account has limits." + +"Of course, dear; it was silly of me." Helen smiled a little ruefully. +"And if Mr. Krumbein has your watch ready, we _must_ go. Bee and some of +her friends are coming over, and it's only a few hours 'till you ... +leave." + +Big Tom squeezed her elbow gently, understandingly, as she blinked back +quick tears. Trailing after them, Tommy saw the little by-play and his +heart ached. The guilt-complex building up in him grew and deepened. + +He knew he had only to say, "Look, I don't mind staying. Aunt Bee and I +will get along swell," and everything would be all right again. Then the +terror of this new and complex world--as it would be without a familiar +face--swept over him and kept him silent. + +His overwrought feelings expressed themselves in a nervously rebelling +stomach, culminating in a disgraceful moment over the nearest gutter. +The rest of the afternoon he spent in bed recuperating. + +In the living room Aunt Bee spoke her mind in her usual, high-pitched +voice. + +"It's disgraceful, Helen. A boy his age.... None of the _Bentons_ ever +had nerves." + +His mother's reply was inaudible, but on the heels of his father's +deeper tones, Aunt Bee's voice rose in rasping indignation. + +"_Well!_ I never! And from my own brother, too. From now on don't come +to me for help with your spoiled brat. Good-_bye_!" + +The door slammed indignantly, his mother chuckled, and there was a +spontaneous burst of laughter. Tommy relaxed and lay back happily. +Anyway, that was the last of Aunt Bee! + + * * * * * + +The next hour or two passed in a flurry of ringing phones, people coming +and going, and last-minute words and reminders. Then suddenly it was +time to leave. Dad burst in for a last quick hug and a promise to send +him pictures of Douwie and her foal, due next month; Mother dropped a +hasty kiss on his hair and promised to hurry back from the Spaceport. +Then Tommy was alone, with a large, painful lump where his heart ought +to be. + +The only activity was the almost noiseless buzzing as the hotel android +ran the cleaner over the living room. Presently even that ceased, and +Tommy lay relaxed and inert, sleepily watching the curtains blow in and +out at the open window. Thirty stories above the street the noises were +pleasantly muffled and remote, and his senses drifted aimlessly to and +fro on the tides of half-sleep. + +Drowsily his mind wandered from the hotel's android servants ... to +the strictly utilitarian mechanical monstrosity at home, known +affectionately as "Old John" ... to the android showroom where they +had seen the one that Dad said looked like Mother.... + +He jolted suddenly, sickeningly awake. Suppose, his mind whispered +treacherously, suppose that Dad _had_ ordered one to take Mom's +place ... not on Mars, but _here_ while she returned to Mars with him. +Suppose that instead of Mom he discovered one of those _Things_ ... or +even worse, suppose he went on from day to day not even knowing.... + +It was a bad five minutes; he was wet with perspiration when he lay back +on his pillows, a shaky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He +had a secret defense against the Terror. He giggled a little at the +thought of what Aunt Bee would say if she knew. + +And what had brought him back from the edge of hysteria was the +triumphant knowledge that with the abnormally acute hearing bred in the +thin atmosphere of Mars, no robot ever created could hide from him the +infinitesimal ticking of the electronic relays that gave it life. Secure +at last, his overstrung nerves relaxed and he slid gratefully over the +edge of sleep. + +He woke abruptly, groping after some vaguely remembered sound. A soft +clicking of heels down the hall.... Of course, his mother back from the +Spaceport! Now she would be stopping at his door to see if he were +asleep. He lay silently; through his eyelashes he could see her outlined +in the soft light from the hall. She was coming in to see if he was +tucked in. In a moment he would jump up and startle her with a hug, as +she leaned over him. In a moment.... + +Screaming desperately, he was out of bed, backing heedlessly across the +room. He was still screaming as the low sill of the open window caught +him behind the knees and toppled him thirty stories to the street. + +Alone in the silent room, Helen Benton stood dazed, staring blindly at +the empty window. + +Tommy's parting gift from his father slid from her hand and lay on the +carpet, still ticking gently. + +It was 9:23 on Mars. + + +The End + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Imagination Stories of Science and + Fantasy_ July 1953. 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 Native Son, by T. D. 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