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+<head>
+ <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" />
+
+ <title>The Knights of Arthur, by Frederik Pohl.</title>
+ <style type="text/css">
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+
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+
+
+<pre>
+
+The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Knights of Arthur, by Frederik Pohl
+
+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: The Knights of Arthur
+
+Author: Frederik Pohl
+
+Illustrator: Martin
+
+Release Date: April 16, 2010 [EBook #32004]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KNIGHTS OF ARTHUR ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Barbara Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<div id="transcriber_note">
+ This etext was produced from <cite>Galaxy Science Fiction</cite> January 1958.
+ Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the
+ U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
+</div>
+<div id="the_beginning">&nbsp;</div>
+<div id="cover" class="illo">
+ <a href="images/cover.jpg"><img src="images/cover-sm.jpg" width="400" height="526" alt="Cover image: Santa crossing paths in the sky with an Alien Santa and waving" /></a>
+</div>
+<div id="story"><a class="pagenum" id="page8" title="8"> </a>
+ <h1>The Knights of Arthur</h1>
+ <p id="author">By FREDERIK POHL</p>
+ <p id="illustrator">Illustrated by MARTIN</p>
+ <p id="synopsis">With one suitcase as his domain, Arthur was
+ desperately in need of armed henchmen … for
+ his keys to a kingdom were typewriter keys!</p>
+ <div id="illo1" class="illo">
+ <img src="images/illo1-sm.jpg" width="658" height="388" alt="An eyestalk coming from a case looks at a guy doing something with a screwdriver and a typewriter" />
+ <a href="images/illo1-left.png" class="img_link">Left side image</a>
+ <a href="images/illo1-right.png" class="img_link">Right side image</a>
+ </div>
+
+ <h2>I</h2>
+
+ <p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">There</span> was three of us—I
+ mean if you count Arthur.
+ We split up to avoid attracting
+ attention. Engdahl just
+ came in over the big bridge, but I
+ had Arthur with me so I had to
+ come the long way around.</p>
+
+ <p>When I registered at the desk,
+ I said I was from Chicago. You
+ know how it is. If you say you’re
+ from Philadelphia, it’s like saying
+ you’re from St. Louis or
+ Detroit—I mean <em>nobody</em> lives in
+ Philadelphia any more. Shows
+ how things change. A couple years
+ ago, Philadelphia was all the
+ fashion. But not now, and I
+ wanted to make a good impression.</p>
+
+ <p>I even tipped the bellboy a
+ hundred and fifty dollars. I said:
+ “Do me a favor. I’ve got my baggage
+ booby-trapped—”</p>
+
+ <p>“Natch,” he said, only mildly
+ impressed by the bill and a half,
+ even less impressed by me.</p>
+
+ <p>“I mean <em>really</em> booby-trapped.
+ Not just a burglar alarm. Besides
+ the alarm, there’s a little surprise
+ <!-- <a class="pagenum" id="page9" title="9"> </a> Original location of right side of Illo 1-->
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page10" title="10"> </a>on a short fuse. So what I want
+ you to do, if you hear the alarm go
+ off, is come running. Right?”</p>
+
+ <p>“And get my head blown off?”
+ He slammed my bags onto the
+ floor. “Mister, you can take your
+ damn money and—”</p>
+
+ <p>“Wait a minute, friend.” I passed
+ over another hundred. “Please?
+ It’s only a shaped charge. It won’t
+ hurt anything except anybody who
+ messes around, see? But I don’t
+ want it to go off. So you come
+ running when you hear the alarm
+ and scare him away and—”</p>
+
+ <p>“No!” But he was less positive.
+ I gave him two hundred more and
+ he said grudgingly: “All right. If
+ I hear it. Say, what’s in there that’s
+ worth all that trouble?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Papers,” I lied.</p>
+
+ <p>He leered. “Sure.”</p>
+
+ <p>“No fooling, it’s just personal
+ stuff. Not worth a penny to anybody
+ but me, understand? So
+ don’t get any ideas—”</p>
+
+ <p>He said in an injured tone:
+ “Mister, naturally the <em>staff</em> won’t
+ bother your stuff. What kind of a
+ hotel do you think this is?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Of course, of course,” I said.
+ But I knew he was lying, because
+ I knew what kind of hotel it was.
+ The staff was there only because
+ being there gave them a chance
+ to knock down more money than
+ they could make any other way.
+ What other kind of hotel was
+ there?</p>
+
+ <p>Anyway, the way to keep the
+ staff on my side was by bribery,
+ and when he left I figured I had
+ him at least temporarily bought.
+ He promised to keep an eye on
+ the room and he would be on duty
+ for four more hours—which gave
+ me plenty of time for my errands.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">I made</span> sure Arthur was
+ plugged in and cleaned myself
+ up. They had water running—New
+ York’s very good that way;
+ they always have water running.
+ It was even hot, or nearly hot. I
+ let the shower splash over me for
+ a while, because there was a lot
+ of dust and dirt from the Bronx
+ that I had to get off me. The way
+ it looked, hardly anybody had
+ been up that way since it happened.</p>
+
+ <p>I dried myself, got dressed and
+ looked out the window. We were
+ fairly high up—fifteenth floor. I
+ could see the Hudson and the big
+ bridge up north of us. There was
+ a huge cloud of smoke coming
+ from somewhere near the bridge
+ on the other side of the river, but
+ outside of that everything looked
+ normal. You would have thought
+ there were people in all those
+ houses. Even the streets looked
+ pretty good, until you noticed that
+ hardly any of the cars were moving.</p>
+
+ <p>I opened the little bag and
+ loaded my pockets with enough
+ money to run my errands. At the
+ door, I stopped and called over
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page11" title="11"> </a>my shoulder to Arthur: “Don’t
+ worry if I’m gone an hour or so.
+ I’ll be back.”</p>
+
+ <p>I didn’t wait for an answer.
+ That would have been pointless
+ under the circumstances.</p>
+
+ <p>After Philadelphia, this place
+ seemed to be bustling with activity.
+ There were four or five
+ people in the lobby and a couple
+ of dozen more out in the street.</p>
+
+ <p>I tarried at the desk for several
+ reasons. In the first place, I was
+ expecting Vern Engdahl to try to
+ contact me and I didn’t want him
+ messing with the luggage—not
+ while Arthur might get nervous.
+ So I told the desk clerk that in
+ case anybody came inquiring for
+ Mr. Schlaepfer, which was the
+ name I was using—my real name
+ being Sam Dunlap—he was to be
+ told that on no account was he to
+ go to my room but to wait in the
+ lobby; and in any case I would
+ be back in an hour.</p>
+
+ <p>“Sure,” said the desk clerk,
+ holding out his hand.</p>
+
+ <p>I crossed it with paper. “One
+ other thing,” I said. “I need to buy
+ an electric typewriter and some
+ other stuff. Where can I get
+ them?”</p>
+
+ <p>“PX,” he said promptly.</p>
+
+ <p>“PX?”</p>
+
+ <p>“What used to be Macy’s,” he
+ explained. “You go out that door
+ and turn right. It’s only about a
+ block. You’ll see the sign.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Thanks.” That cost me a hundred
+ more, but it was worth it.
+ After all, money wasn’t a problem—not
+ when we had just come from
+ Philadelphia.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">The</span> big sign read “PX,” but it
+ wasn’t big enough to hide an
+ older sign underneath that said
+ “Macy’s.” I looked it over from
+ across the street.</p>
+
+ <p>Somebody had organized it
+ pretty well. I had to admire them.
+ I mean I don’t like New York—wouldn’t
+ live there if you gave me
+ the place—but it showed a sort of
+ go-getting spirit. It was no easy
+ job getting a full staff together to
+ run a department store operation,
+ when any city the size of New
+ York must have a couple thousand
+ stores. You know what I mean?
+ It’s like running a hotel or anything
+ else—how are you going to
+ get people to work for you when
+ they can just as easily walk down
+ the street, find a vacant store and
+ set up their own operation?</p>
+
+ <p>But Macy’s was fully manned.
+ There was a guard at every door
+ and a walking patrol along the
+ block-front between the entrances
+ to make sure nobody broke in
+ through the windows. They all
+ wore green armbands and uniforms—well,
+ lots of people wore
+ uniforms.</p>
+
+ <p>I walked over.</p>
+
+ <p>“Afternoon,” I said affably to the
+ guard. “I want to pick up some
+ stuff. Typewriter, maybe a gun,
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page12" title="12"> </a>you know. How do you work it
+ here? Flat rate for all you can
+ carry, prices marked on everything,
+ or what is it?”</p>
+
+ <p>He stared at me suspiciously.
+ He was a monster; six inches taller
+ than I, he must have weighed two
+ hundred and fifty pounds. He
+ didn’t look very smart, which
+ might explain why he was working
+ for somebody else these days. But
+ he was smart enough for what he
+ had to do.</p>
+
+ <p>He demanded: “You new in
+ town?”</p>
+
+ <p>I nodded.</p>
+
+ <p>He thought for a minute. “All
+ right, buddy. Go on in. You pick
+ out what you want, see? We’ll
+ straighten out the price when you
+ come out.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Fair enough.” I started past
+ him.</p>
+
+ <p>He grabbed me by the arm. “No
+ tricks,” he ordered. “You come
+ out the same door you went in,
+ understand?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Sure,” I said, “if that’s the way
+ you want it.”</p>
+
+ <p>That figured—one way or another:
+ either they got a commission,
+ or, like everybody else, they
+ lived on what they could knock
+ down. I filed that for further consideration.</p>
+
+ <p>Inside, the store smelled pretty
+ bad. It wasn’t just rot, though there
+ was plenty of that; it was musty
+ and stale and old. It was dark, or
+ nearly. About one light in twenty
+ was turned on, in order to conserve
+ power. Naturally the escalators
+ and so on weren’t running
+ at all.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">I passed</span> a counter with pencils
+ and ball-point pens in a
+ case. Most of them were gone—somebody
+ hadn’t bothered to go
+ around in back and had simply
+ knocked the glass out—but I found
+ one that worked and an old order
+ pad to write on. Over by the
+ elevators there was a store directory,
+ so I went over and checked
+ it, making a list of the departments
+ worth visiting.</p>
+
+ <p>Office Supplies would be the
+ typewriter. Garden &amp; Home was a
+ good bet—maybe I could find a
+ little wheelbarrow to save carrying
+ the typewriter in my arms.
+ What I wanted was one of the
+ big ones where all the keys are
+ solenoid-operated instead of the
+ cam-and-roller arrangement—that
+ was all Arthur could operate. And
+ those things were heavy, as I
+ knew. That was why we had
+ ditched the old one in the Bronx.</p>
+
+ <p>Sporting Goods—that would be
+ for a gun, if there were any left.
+ Naturally, they were about the
+ first to go after it happened, when
+ <em>everybody</em> wanted a gun. I mean
+ everybody who lived through it.
+ I thought about clothes—it was
+ pretty hot in New York—and
+ decided I might as well take a
+ look.</p>
+
+ <p><a class="pagenum" id="page13" title="13"> </a>Typewriter, clothes, gun, wheelbarrow.
+ I made one more note on
+ the pad—try the tobacco counter,
+ but I didn’t have much hope for
+ that. They had used cigarettes for
+ currency around this area for a
+ while, until they got enough bank
+ vaults open to supply big bills. It
+ made cigarettes scarce.</p>
+
+ <p>I turned away and noticed for
+ the first time that one of the elevators
+ was stopped on the main floor.
+ The doors were closed, but they
+ were glass doors, and although
+ there wasn’t any light inside, I
+ could see the elevator was full.
+ There must have been thirty or
+ forty people in the car when it
+ happened.</p>
+
+ <p>I’d been thinking that, if nothing
+ else, these New Yorkers were
+ pretty neat—I mean if you don’t
+ count the Bronx. But here were
+ thirty or forty skeletons that nobody
+ had even bothered to clear
+ away.</p>
+
+ <p>You call that neat? Right in
+ plain view on the ground floor,
+ where everybody who came into
+ the place would be sure to go—I
+ mean if it had been on one of
+ the upper floors, what difference
+ would it have made?</p>
+
+ <p>I began to wish we were out
+ of the city. But naturally that
+ would have to wait until we
+ finished what we came here to do—otherwise,
+ what was the point
+ of coming all the way here in the
+ first place?</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">The</span> tobacco counter was bare.
+ I got the wheelbarrow easily
+ enough—there were plenty of those,
+ all sizes; I picked out a nice light
+ red-and-yellow one with rubber-tired
+ wheel. I rolled it over to
+ Sporting Goods on the same floor,
+ but that didn’t work out too well.
+ I found a 30-30 with telescopic
+ sights, only there weren’t any cartridges
+ to fit it—or anything else. I
+ took the gun anyway; Engdahl
+ would probably have some extra
+ ammunition.</p>
+
+ <p>Men’s Clothing was a waste of
+ time, too—I guess these New
+ Yorkers were too lazy to do
+ laundry. But I found the typewriter
+ I wanted.</p>
+
+ <p>I put the whole load into the
+ wheelbarrow, along with a couple
+ of odds and ends that caught my
+ eye as I passed through Housewares,
+ and I bumped as gently as
+ I could down the shallow steps
+ of the motionless escalator to the
+ ground floor.</p>
+
+ <p>I came down the back way,
+ and that was a mistake. It led me
+ right past the food department.
+ Well, I don’t have to tell you what
+ <em>that</em> was like, with all the exploded
+ cans and the rats as big as poodles.
+ But I found some cologne and
+ soaked a handkerchief in it, and
+ with that over my nose, and some
+ fast footwork for the rats, I managed
+ to get to one of the doors.</p>
+
+ <p>It wasn’t the one I had come
+ in, but that was all right. I sized
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page14" title="14"> </a>up the guard. He looked smart
+ enough for a little bargaining, but
+ not too smart; and if I didn’t like
+ his price, I could always remember
+ that I was supposed to go out
+ the other door.</p>
+
+ <p>I said: “Psst!”</p>
+
+ <p>When he turned around, I said
+ rapidly: “Listen, this isn’t the way
+ I came in, but if you want to do
+ business, it’ll be the way I come
+ out.”</p>
+
+ <p>He thought for a second, and
+ then he smiled craftily and said:
+ “All right, come on.”</p>
+
+ <p>Well, we haggled. The gun was
+ the big thing—he wanted five
+ thousand for that and he wouldn’t
+ come down. The wheelbarrow he
+ was willing to let go for five hundred.
+ And the typewriter—he
+ scowled at the typewriter as
+ though it were contagious.</p>
+
+ <p>“What you want that for?” he
+ asked suspiciously. I shrugged.</p>
+
+ <p>“Well—” he scratched his head—“a
+ thousand?”</p>
+
+ <p>I shook my head.</p>
+
+ <p>“Five hundred?”</p>
+
+ <p>I kept on shaking.</p>
+
+ <p>“All right, all right,” he grumbled.
+ “Look, you take the other
+ things for six thousand—including
+ what you got in your pockets that
+ you don’t think I know about,
+ see? And I’ll throw this in. How
+ about it?”</p>
+
+ <p>That was fine as far as I was
+ concerned, but just on principle
+ I pushed him a little further. “Forget
+ it,” I said. “I’ll give you fifty
+ bills for the lot, take it or leave
+ it. Otherwise I’ll walk right down
+ the street to Gimbel’s and—”</p>
+
+ <p>He guffawed.</p>
+
+ <p>“Whats the matter?” I demanded.</p>
+
+ <p>“Pal,” he said, “you kill me.
+ Stranger in town, hey? You can’t
+ go anyplace but here.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Why not?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Account of there <em>ain’t</em> anyplace
+ else. See, the chief here don’t like
+ competition. So we don’t have to
+ worry about anybody taking their
+ trade elsewhere, like—we burned
+ all the other places down.”</p>
+
+ <p>That explained a couple of
+ things. I counted out the money,
+ loaded the stuff back in the wheelbarrow
+ and headed for the Statler;
+ but all the time I was counting
+ and loading, I was talking to
+ Big Brainless; and by the time I
+ was actually on the way, I knew
+ a little more about this “chief.”</p>
+
+ <p>And that was kind of important,
+ because he was the man we were
+ going to have to know very well.</p>
+
+ <h2>II</h2>
+
+ <p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">I locked</span> the door of the hotel
+ room. Arthur was peeping out
+ of the suitcase at me.</p>
+
+ <p>I said: “I’m back. I got your
+ typewriter.” He waved his eye at
+ me.</p>
+
+ <p>I took out the little kit of electricians’
+ tools I carried, tipped the
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page15" title="15"> </a>typewriter on its back and began
+ sorting out leads. I cut them free
+ from the keyboard, soldered on a
+ ground wire, and began taping the
+ leads to the strands of a yard of
+ forty-ply multiplex cable.</p>
+
+ <p>It was a slow and dull job. I
+ didn’t have to worry about which
+ solenoid lead went to which
+ strand—Arthur could sort them
+ out. But all the same it took an
+ hour, pretty near, and I was getting
+ hungry by the time I got the
+ last connection taped. I shifted the
+ typewriter so that both Arthur and
+ I could see it, rolled in a sheet of
+ paper and hooked the cable to
+ Arthur’s receptors.</p>
+
+ <p>Nothing happened.</p>
+
+ <p>“Oh,” I said. “Excuse me,
+ Arthur. I forgot to plug it in.”</p>
+
+ <p>I found a wall socket. The typewriter
+ began to hum and then it
+ started to rattle and type:</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">DURA AUK UKOO RQK
+ MWS AQB</p>
+
+ <p>It stopped.</p>
+
+ <p>“Come on, Arthur,” I ordered
+ impatiently. “Sort them out, will
+ you?”</p>
+
+ <p>Laboriously it typed:</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">!!!</p>
+
+ <p>Then, for a time, there was a
+ clacking and thumping as he typed
+ random letters, peeping out of the
+ suitcase to see what he had typed,
+ until the sheet I had put in was
+ used up.</p>
+
+ <p>I replaced it and waited, as patiently
+ as I could, smoking one of
+ the last of my cigarettes. After fifteen
+ minutes or so, he had the hang
+ of it pretty well. He typed:</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">YOU DAMQXXX DAMN
+ FOOL WHUXXX WHY DID
+ YOU LEAQNXXX LEAVE ME
+ ALONE Q Q</p>
+
+ <p>“Aw, Arthur,” I said. “Use your
+ head, will you? I couldn’t carry
+ that old typewriter of yours all
+ the way down through the Bronx.
+ It was getting pretty beat-up. Anyway,
+ I’ve only got two hands—”</p>
+
+ <p><span class="arthur_speak">YOU LOUSE,</span> it rattled, <span class="arthur_speak">ARE
+ YOU TRYONXXX TRYING
+ TO INSULT ME BECAUSE I
+ DONT HAVE ANY Q Q</span></p>
+
+ <p>“Arthur!” I said, shocked. “You
+ know better than that!”</p>
+
+ <p>The typewriter slammed its
+ carriage back and forth ferociously
+ a couple of times. Then he said:
+ <span class="arthur_speak">ALL RIGHT SAM YOU KNOW
+ YOUVE GOT ME BY THE
+ THROAT SO YOU CAN DO
+ ANYTHING YOU WANT TO
+ WITH ME WHO CARES
+ ABOUT MY FEELINGS ANYHOW</span></p>
+
+ <p>“Please don’t take that attitude,”
+ I coaxed.</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">WELL</p>
+
+ <p>“Please?”</p>
+
+ <p>He capitulated. <span class="arthur_speak">ALL RIGHT
+ SAY HEARD ANYTHING
+ FROM ENGDAHL Q Q</span></p>
+
+ <p>“No.”</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">ISNT THAT JUST LIKE
+ HIM Q Q CANT DEPEND ON
+ THAT MAN HE WAS THE
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page16" title="16"> </a>LOUSIEST ELECTRICIANS
+ MATE ON THE SEA SPRITE
+ AND HE ISNT MUCH BETTER
+ NOW SAY SAM REMEMBER
+ WHEN WE HAD TO GET
+ HIM OUT OF THE JUG IN
+ NEWPORT NEWS BECAUSE</p>
+
+ <p>I settled back and relaxed. I
+ might as well. That was the trouble
+ with getting Arthur a new typewriter
+ after a couple of days without
+ one—he had so much garrulity
+ stored up in his little brain, and
+ the only person to spill it on was
+ me.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Apparently</span> I fell asleep.
+ Well, I mean I must have, because
+ I woke up. I had been
+ dreaming I was on guard post outside
+ the Yard at Portsmouth, and
+ it was night, and I looked up and
+ there was something up there, all
+ silvery and bad. It was a missile—and
+ that was silly, because you
+ never see a missile. But this was
+ a dream.</p>
+
+ <p>And the thing burst, like a
+ Roman candle flaring out, all sorts
+ of comet-trails of light, and then
+ the whole sky was full of bright
+ and colored snow. Little tiny flakes
+ of light coming down, a mist of
+ light, radiation dropping like dew;
+ and it was so pretty, and I took
+ a deep breath. And my lungs
+ burned out like slow fire, and I
+ coughed myself to death with the
+ explosions of the missile banging
+ against my flaming ears….</p>
+
+ <p>Well, it was a dream. It probably
+ wasn’t like that at all—and if
+ it had been, I wasn’t there to see
+ it, because I was tucked away safe
+ under a hundred and twenty
+ fathoms of Atlantic water. All of
+ us were on the <i>Sea Sprite</i>.</p>
+
+ <p>But it was a bad dream and it
+ bothered me, even when I woke up
+ and found that the banging explosions
+ of the missile were the
+ noise of Arthur’s typewriter carriage
+ crashing furiously back and
+ forth.</p>
+
+
+ <p>He peeped out of the suitcase
+ and saw that I was awake. He demanded:
+ <span class="arthur_speak">HOW CAN YOU FALL
+ ASLEEP WHEN WERE IN A
+ PLACE LIKE THIS Q Q ANYTHING
+ COULD HAPPEN
+ SAM I KNOW YOU DONT
+ CARE WHAT HAPPENS TO
+ ME BUT FOR YOUR OWN
+ SAKE YOU SHOULDNT</span></p>
+
+ <p>“Oh, dry up,” I said.</p>
+
+ <p>Being awake, I remembered
+ that I was hungry. There was still
+ no sign of Engdahl or the others,
+ but that wasn’t too surprising—they
+ hadn’t known exactly when
+ we would arrive. I wished I had
+ thought to bring some food back
+ to the room. It looked like long
+ waiting and I wouldn’t want to
+ leave Arthur alone again—after all,
+ he was partly right.</p>
+
+ <p>I thought of the telephone.</p>
+
+ <p>On the off-chance that it might
+ work, I picked it up. Amazing, a
+ voice from the desk answered.</p>
+
+ <p><a class="pagenum" id="page17" title="17"> </a>I crossed my fingers and said:
+ “Room service?”</p>
+
+ <p>And the voice answered amiably
+ enough: “Hold on, buddy. I’ll see
+ if they answer.”</p>
+
+ <p>Clicking and a good long wait.
+ Then a new voice said: “Whaddya
+ want?”</p>
+
+ <p>There was no sense pressing my
+ luck by asking for anything like
+ a complete meal. I would be lucky
+ if I got a sandwich.</p>
+
+ <p>I said: “Please, may I have a
+ Spam sandwich on Rye Krisp and
+ some coffee for Room Fifteen Forty-one?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Please, you go to hell!” the
+ voice snarled. “What do you think
+ this is, some damn delicatessen?
+ You want liquor, we’ll get you
+ liquor. That’s what room service
+ is for!”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">I hung</span> up. What was the use
+ of arguing? Arthur was clacking
+ peevishly:</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">WHATS THE MATTER
+ SAM YOU THINKING OF
+ YOUR BELLY AGAIN Q Q</p>
+
+ <p>“You would be if you—” I
+ started, and then I stopped.
+ Arthur’s feelings were delicate
+ enough already. I mean suppose
+ that all you had left of what you
+ were born with was a brain in a
+ kind of sardine can, wouldn’t you
+ be sensitive? Well, Arthur was
+ more sensitive than you would be,
+ believe me. Of course, it was his
+ own foolish fault—I mean you
+ don’t get a prosthetic tank unless
+ you die by accident, or something
+ like that, because if it’s disease
+ they usually can’t save even the
+ brain.</p>
+
+ <p>The phone rang again.</p>
+
+ <p>It was the desk clerk. “Say, did
+ you get what you wanted?” he
+ asked chummily.</p>
+
+ <p>“No.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Oh. Too bad,” he said, but
+ cheerfully. “Listen, buddy, I forgot
+ to tell you before. That Miss
+ Engdahl you were expecting, she’s
+ on her way up.”</p>
+
+ <p>I dropped the phone onto the
+ cradle.</p>
+
+ <p>“Arthur!” I yelled. “Keep quiet
+ for a while—trouble!”</p>
+
+ <p>He clacked once, and the typewriter
+ shut itself off. I jumped
+ for the door of the bathroom, cursing
+ the fact that I didn’t have
+ cartridges for the gun. Still, empty
+ or not, it would have to do.</p>
+
+ <p>I ducked behind the bathroom
+ door, in the shadows, covering the
+ hall door. Because there were two
+ things wrong with what the desk
+ clerk had told me. Vern Engdahl
+ wasn’t a “miss,” to begin with;
+ and whatever name he used when
+ he came to call on me, it wouldn’t
+ be Vern Engdahl.</p>
+
+ <p>There was a knock on the door.
+ I called: “Come in!”</p>
+
+ <p>The door opened and the girl
+ who called herself Vern Engdahl
+ came in slowly, looking around. I
+ stayed quiet and out of sight until
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page18" title="18"> </a>she was all the way in. She didn’t
+ seem to be armed; there wasn’t
+ anyone with her.</p>
+
+ <p>I stepped out, holding the gun
+ on her. Her eyes opened wide and
+ she seemed about to turn.</p>
+
+ <p>“Hold it! Come on in, you. Close
+ the door!”</p>
+
+ <p>She did. She looked as though
+ she were expecting me. I looked
+ her over—medium pretty, not very
+ tall, not very plump, not very old.
+ I’d have guessed twenty or so, but
+ that’s not my line of work; she
+ could have been almost any age
+ from seventeen on.</p>
+
+ <p>The typewriter switched itself
+ on and began to pound agitatedly.
+ I crossed over toward her and
+ paused to peer at what Arthur was
+ yacking about: <span class="arthur_speak">SEARCH HER
+ YOU DAMN FOOL MAYBE
+ SHES GOT A GUN</span></p>
+
+ <p>I ordered: “Shut up, Arthur.
+ I’m <em>going</em> to search her. You! Turn
+ around!”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">She</span> shrugged and turned
+ around, her hands in the air.
+ Over her shoulder, she said:
+ “You’re taking this all wrong, Sam.
+ I came here to make a deal with
+ you.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Sure you did.”</p>
+
+ <p>But her knowing my name was
+ a blow, too. I mean what was the
+ use of all that sneaking around if
+ people in New York were going to
+ know we were here?</p>
+
+ <p>I walked up close behind her
+ and patted what there was to pat.
+ There didn’t seem to be a gun.</p>
+
+ <p>“You tickle,” she complained.</p>
+
+ <p>I took her pocketbook away
+ from her and went through it. No
+ gun. A lot of money—an <em>awful</em>
+ lot of money. I mean there must
+ have been two or three hundred
+ thousand dollars. There was
+ nothing with a name on it in the
+ pocketbook.</p>
+
+ <p>She said: “Can I put my hands
+ down, Sam?”</p>
+
+ <p>“In a minute.” I thought for a
+ second and then decided to do it—you
+ know, I just couldn’t afford to
+ take chances. I cleared my throat
+ and ordered: “Take off your
+ clothes.”</p>
+
+ <p>Her head jerked around and she
+ stared at me. “<em>What?</em>”</p>
+
+ <p>“Take them off. You heard me.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Now wait a minute—” she began
+ dangerously.</p>
+
+ <p>I said: “Do what I tell you,
+ hear? How do I know you haven’t
+ got a knife tucked away?”</p>
+
+ <p>She clenched her teeth. “Why,
+ you dirty little man! What do you
+ think—” Then she shrugged. She
+ looked at me with contempt and
+ said: “All right. What’s the difference?”</p>
+
+ <p>Well, there was a considerable
+ difference. She began to unzip and
+ unbutton and wriggle, and pretty
+ soon she was standing there in her
+ underwear, looking at me as
+ though I were a two-headed worm.
+ It was interesting, but kind of embarrassing.
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page19" title="19"> </a>I could see Arthur’s
+ eye-stalk waving excitedly out of
+ the opened suitcase.</p>
+
+ <p>I picked up her skirt and blouse
+ and shook them. I could feel myself
+ blushing, and there didn’t seem
+ to be anything in them.</p>
+
+ <p>I growled: “Okay, I guess that’s
+ enough. You can put your clothes
+ back on now.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Gee, thanks,” she said.</p>
+
+ <p>She looked at me thoughtfully
+ and then shook her head as if
+ she’d never seen anything like me
+ before and never hoped to again.
+ Without another word, she began
+ to get back into her clothes. I had
+ to admire her poise. I mean she
+ was perfectly calm about the whole
+ thing. You’d have thought she was
+ used to taking her clothes off in
+ front of strange men.</p>
+
+ <p>Well, for that matter, maybe she
+ was; but it wasn’t any of my business.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Arthur</span> was clacking distractedly,
+ but I didn’t pay any
+ attention to him. I demanded: “All
+ right, now who are you and what
+ do you want?”</p>
+
+ <p>She pulled up a stocking and
+ said: “You couldn’t have asked
+ me that in the first place, could
+ you? I’m Vern Eng—”</p>
+
+ <p>“<em>Cut it out!</em>”</p>
+
+ <p>She stared at me. “I was only
+ going to say I’m Vern Engdahl’s
+ partner. We’ve got a little business
+ deal cooking and I wanted to talk
+ to you about this proposition.”</p>
+
+ <p>Arthur squawked: <span class="arthur_speak">WHATS
+ ENGDAHL UP TO NOW Q Q
+ SAM IM WARNING YOU I
+ DONT LIKE THE LOOK OF
+ THIS THIS WOMAN AND
+ ENGDAHL ARE PROBABLY
+ DOUBLECROSSING US</span></p>
+
+ <p>I said: “All right, Arthur, relax.
+ I’m taking care of things. Now
+ start over, you. What’s your
+ name?”</p>
+
+ <p>She finished putting on her shoe
+ and stood up. “Amy.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Last name?”</p>
+
+ <p>She shrugged and fished in her
+ purse for a cigarette. “What does
+ it matter? Mind if I sit down?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Go ahead,” I rumbled. “But
+ don’t stop talking!”</p>
+
+ <p>“Oh,” she said, “we’ve got plenty
+ of time to straighten things out.”
+ She lit the cigarette and walked
+ over to the chair by the window.
+ On the way, she gave the luggage
+ a good long look.</p>
+
+ <p>Arthur’s eyestalk cowered back
+ into the suitcase as she came close.
+ She winked at me, grinned, bent
+ down and peered inside.</p>
+
+ <p>“My,” she said, “he’s a nice
+ shiny one, isn’t he?”</p>
+
+ <p>The typewriter began to clatter
+ frantically. I didn’t even bother to
+ look; I told him: “Arthur, if you
+ can’t keep quiet, you have to expect
+ people to know you’re there.”</p>
+
+ <p>She sat down and crossed her
+ legs. “Now then,” she said. “Frankly,
+ he’s what I came to see you
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page20" title="20"> </a>about. Vern told me you had a
+ pross. I want to buy it.”</p>
+
+ <p>The typewriter thrashed its carriage
+ back and forth furiously.</p>
+
+ <p>“Arthur isn’t for sale.”</p>
+
+ <p>“No?” She leaned back. “Vern’s
+ already sold me his interest, you
+ know. And you don’t really have
+ any choice. You see, I’m in charge
+ of materiel procurement for the
+ Major. If you want to sell your
+ share, fine. If you don’t, why, we
+ requisition it anyhow. Do you follow?”</p>
+
+ <p>I was getting irritated—at
+ Vern Engdahl, for whatever the
+ hell he thought he was doing; but
+ at her because she was handy. I
+ shook my head.</p>
+
+ <p>“Fifty thousand dollars? I mean
+ for your interest?”</p>
+
+ <p>“No.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Seventy-five?”</p>
+
+ <p>“No!”</p>
+
+ <p>“Oh, come on now. A hundred
+ thousand?”</p>
+
+ <p>It wasn’t going to make any impression
+ on her, but I tried to explain:
+ “Arthur’s a friend of mine.
+ He isn’t for sale.”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">She </span>shook her head. “What’s
+ the matter with you? Engdahl
+ wasn’t like this. He sold his interest
+ for forty thousand and was
+ glad to get it.”</p>
+
+ <p>Clatter-clatter-clatter from Arthur.
+ I didn’t blame him for having
+ hurt feelings that time.</p>
+
+ <p>Amy said in a discouraged tone:
+ “Why can’t people be reasonable?
+ The Major doesn’t like it when
+ people aren’t reasonable.”</p>
+
+ <p>I lowered the gun and cleared
+ my throat. “He doesn’t?” I asked,
+ cuing her. I wanted to hear more
+ about this Major, who seemed to
+ have the city pretty well under his
+ thumb.</p>
+
+ <p>“No, he doesn’t.” She shook her
+ head sorrowfully. She said in an
+ accusing voice: “You out-of-towners
+ don’t know what it’s like to
+ try to run a city the size of New
+ York. There are fifteen thousand
+ people here, do you know that? It
+ isn’t one of your hick towns. And
+ it’s worry, worry, worry all the
+ time, trying to keep things going.”</p>
+
+ <p>“I bet,” I said sympathetically.
+ “You’re, uh, pretty close to the
+ Major?”</p>
+
+ <p>She said stiffly: “I’m not married
+ to him, if that’s what you
+ mean. Though I’ve had my
+ chances…. But you see how
+ it is. Fifteen thousand people to
+ run a place the size of New York!
+ It’s forty men to operate the power
+ station, and twenty-five on the
+ PX, and thirty on the hotel here.
+ And then there are the local groceries,
+ and the Army, and the
+ Coast Guard, and the Air Force—though,
+ really, that’s only two men—and—Well,
+ you get the picture.”</p>
+
+ <p>“I certainly do. Look, what kind
+ of a guy <em>is</em> the Major?”</p>
+
+ <p>She shrugged. “A guy.”</p>
+
+ <p>“I mean what does he like?”</p>
+
+ <p><a class="pagenum" id="page21" title="21"> </a>“Women, mostly,” she said, her
+ expression clouded. “Come on now.
+ What about it?”</p>
+
+ <p>I stalled. “What do you want
+ Arthur for?”</p>
+
+ <p>She gave me a disgusted look.
+ “What do you think? To relieve
+ the manpower shortage, naturally.
+ There’s more work than there are
+ men. Now if the Major could just
+ get hold of a couple of prosthetics,
+ like this thing here, why, he could
+ put them in the big installations.
+ This one used to be an engineer
+ or something, Vern said.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Well … <em>like</em> an engineer.”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Amy</span> shrugged. “So why couldn’t
+ we connect him up with
+ the power station? It’s been done.
+ The Major knows that—he was in
+ the Pentagon when they switched
+ all the aircraft warning net over
+ from computer to prosthetic control.
+ So why couldn’t we do the
+ same thing with our power station
+ and release forty men for other assignments?
+ This thing could work
+ day, night, Sundays—what’s the
+ difference when you’re just a brain
+ in a sardine can?”</p>
+
+ <p>Clatter-rattle-<em>bang</em>.</p>
+
+ <p>She looked startled. “Oh. I forgot
+ he was listening.”</p>
+
+ <p>“No deal,” I said.</p>
+
+ <p>She said: “A hundred and fifty
+ thousand?”</p>
+
+ <p>A hundred and fifty thousand
+ dollars. I considered that for a
+ while. Arthur clattered warningly.</p>
+
+ <p>“Well,” I temporized, “I’d have
+ to be sure he was getting into good
+ hands—”</p>
+
+ <p>The typewriter thrashed wildly.
+ The sheet of paper fluttered out
+ of the carriage. He’d used it up.
+ Automatically I picked it up—it
+ was covered with imprecations,
+ self-pity and threats—and started
+ to put a new one in.</p>
+
+ <p>“No,” I said, bending over the
+ typewriter, “I guess I couldn’t sell
+ him. It just wouldn’t be right—”</p>
+
+ <p>That was my mistake; it was
+ the wrong time for me to say that,
+ because I had taken my eyes off
+ her.</p>
+
+ <p>The room bent over and clouted
+ me.</p>
+
+ <p>I half turned, not more than a
+ fraction conscious, and I saw this
+ Amy girl, behind me, with the
+ shoe still in her hand, raised to
+ give me another blackjacking on
+ the skull.</p>
+
+ <p>The shoe came down, and it
+ must have weighed more than it
+ looked, and even the fractional bit
+ of consciousness went crashing
+ away.</p>
+
+ <h2>III</h2>
+
+ <p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">I have</span> to tell you about Vern
+ Engdahl. We were all from the
+ <i>Sea Sprite</i>, of course—me and
+ Vern and even Arthur. The thing
+ about Vern is that he was the lowest-ranking
+ one of us all—only an
+ electricians’ mate third, I mean
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page22" title="22"> </a>when anybody paid any attention
+ to things like that—and yet he was
+ pretty much doing the thinking
+ for the rest of us. Coming to New
+ York was his idea—he told us that
+ was the only place we could get
+ what we wanted.</p>
+
+ <p>Well, as long as we were carrying
+ Arthur along with us, we pretty
+ much needed Vern, because he
+ was the one who knew how to
+ keep the lash-up going. You’ve got
+ no idea what kind of pumps and
+ plumbing go into a prosthetic tank
+ until you’ve seen one opened up.
+ And, naturally, Arthur didn’t want
+ any breakdowns without somebody
+ around to fix things up.</p>
+
+ <p>The <i>Sea Sprite</i>, maybe you
+ know, was one of the old liquid-sodium-reactor
+ subs—too slow for
+ combat duty, but as big as a barn,
+ so they made it a hospital ship. We
+ were cruising deep when the missiles
+ hit, and, of course, when we
+ came up, there wasn’t much for a
+ hospital ship to do. I mean there
+ isn’t any sense fooling around with
+ anybody who’s taken a good deep
+ breath of fallout.</p>
+
+ <p>So we went back to Newport
+ News to see what had happened.
+ And we found out what had happened.
+ And there wasn’t anything
+ much to do except pay off the
+ crew and let them go. But us
+ three stuck together. Why not?
+ It wasn’t as if we had any families
+ to go back to any more.</p>
+
+ <p>Vern just loved all this stuff—he’d
+ been an Eagle Scout; maybe
+ that had something to do with it—and
+ he showed us how to boil
+ drinking water and forage in the
+ woods and all like that, because
+ nobody in his right mind wanted
+ to go near any kind of a town,
+ until the cold weather set in, anyway.
+ And it was always Vern,
+ Vern, telling us what to do, ironing
+ out our troubles.</p>
+
+ <p>It worked out, except that there
+ was this one thing. Vern had bright
+ ideas. But he didn’t always tell us
+ what they were.</p>
+
+ <p>So I wasn’t so very surprised
+ when I came to. I mean there I
+ was, tied up, with this girl Amy
+ standing over me, holding the gun
+ like a club. Evidently she’d found
+ out that there weren’t any cartridges.
+ And in a couple of minutes
+ there was a knock on the door,
+ and she yelled, “Come in,” and in
+ came Vern. And the man who was
+ with him had to be somebody important,
+ because there were eight
+ or ten other men crowding in close
+ behind.</p>
+
+ <p>I didn’t need to look at the oak
+ leaves on his shoulders to realize
+ that here was the chief, the fellow
+ who ran this town, the Major.</p>
+
+ <p>It was just the kind of thing
+ Vern <em>would</em> do.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Vern</span> said, with the look on his
+ face that made strange officers
+ wonder why this poor persecuted
+ man had been forced to spend so
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page23" title="23"> </a>much time in the brig: “Now,
+ Major, I’m sure we can straighten
+ all this out. Would you mind leaving
+ me alone with my friend here
+ for a moment?”</p>
+
+ <p>The Major teetered on his heels,
+ thinking. He was a tall, youngish-bald
+ type, with a long, worried,
+ horselike face. He said: “Ah, do
+ you think we should?”</p>
+
+ <p>“I guarantee there’ll be no
+ trouble, Major,” Vern promised.</p>
+
+ <p>The Major pulled at his little
+ mustache. “Very well,” he said.
+ “Amy, you come along.”</p>
+
+ <p>“We’ll be right here, Major,”
+ Vern said reassuringly, escorting
+ him to the door.</p>
+
+ <p>“You bet you will,” said the
+ Major, and tittered. “Ah, bring
+ that gun along with you, Amy.
+ And be sure this man knows that
+ we have bullets.”</p>
+
+ <p>They closed the door. Arthur
+ had been cowering in his suitcase,
+ but now his eyestalk peeped out
+ and the rattling and clattering
+ from that typewriter sounded like
+ the Battle of the Bulge.</p>
+
+ <p>I demanded: “Come on, Vern.
+ What’s this all about?”</p>
+
+ <p>Vern said: “How much did they
+ offer you?”</p>
+
+ <p>Clatter-bang-BANG. I peeked,
+ and Arthur was saying: <span class="arthur_speak">WARNED
+ YOU SAM THAT ENGDAHL
+ WAS UP TO TRICKS PLEASE
+ SAM PLEASE PLEASE
+ PLEASE HIT HIM ON THE
+ HEAD KNOCK HIM OUT HE
+ MUST HAVE A GUN SO GET
+ IT AND SHOOT OUR WAY
+ OUT OF HERE</span></p>
+
+ <p>“A hundred and fifty thousand
+ dollars,” I said.</p>
+
+ <p>Vern looked outraged. “I only
+ got forty!”</p>
+
+ <p>Arthur clattered: <span class="arthur_speak">VERN I APPEAL
+ TO YOUR COMMON
+ DECENCY WERE OLD SHIPMATES
+ VERN REMEMBER
+ ALL THE TIMES I</span></p>
+
+ <p>“Still,” Vern mused, “it’s all
+ common funds anyway, right?
+ Arthur belongs to both of us.”</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">I DONT DONT DONT REPEAT
+ DONT BELONG TO
+ ANYBODY BUT ME</p>
+
+ <p>“That’s true,” I said grudgingly.
+ “But I carried him, remember.”</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">SAM WHATS THE MATTER
+ WITH YOU Q Q I DONT
+ LIKE THE EXPRESSION ON
+ YOUR FACE LISTEN SAM
+ YOU ARENT</p>
+
+ <p>Vern said, “A hundred and fifty
+ thousand, remember.”</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">THINKING OF SELLING</p>
+
+ <p>“And of course we couldn’t get
+ out of here,” Vern pointed out.
+ “They’ve got us surrounded.”</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">ME TO THESE RATS Q Q
+ SAM VERN PLEASE DONT
+ SCARE ME</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">I said,</span> pointing to the fluttering
+ paper in the rattling machine:
+ “You’re worrying our friend.”</p>
+
+ <p>Vern shrugged impatiently.</p>
+
+ <p><span class="arthur_speak">I KNEW I SHOULDNT
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page24" title="24"> </a>HAVE TRUSTED YOU</span>, Arthur
+ wept. <span class="arthur_speak">THATS ALL I MEAN TO
+ YOU EH</span></p>
+
+ <p>Vern said: “Well, Sam? Let’s
+ take the cash and get this thing
+ over with. After all, he <em>will</em> have
+ the best of treatment.”</p>
+
+ <p>It was a little like selling your
+ sister into white slavery, but what
+ else was there to do? Besides, I
+ kind of trusted Vern.</p>
+
+ <p>“All right,” I said.</p>
+
+ <p>What Arthur said nearly
+ scorched the paper.</p>
+
+ <p>Vern helped pack Arthur up
+ for moving. I mean it was just
+ a matter of pulling the plugs out
+ and making sure he had a fresh
+ battery, but Vern wanted to supervise
+ it himself. Because one of
+ the little things Vern had up his
+ sleeve was that he had found a
+ spot for himself on the Major’s
+ payroll. He was now the official
+ Prosthetic (Human) Maintenance
+ Department Chief.</p>
+
+ <p>The Major said to me: “Ah,
+ Dunlap. What sort of experience
+ have you had?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Experience?”</p>
+
+ <p>“In the Navy. Your friend Engdahl
+ suggested you might want to
+ join us here.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Oh. I see what you mean.” I
+ shook my head. “Nothing that
+ would do you any good, I’m afraid.
+ I was a yeoman.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Yeoman?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Like a company clerk,” I explained.
+ “I mean I kept records
+ and cut orders and made out reports
+ and all like that.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Company clerk!” The eyes in
+ the long horsy face gleamed. “Ah,
+ you’re mistaken, Dunlap! Why,
+ that’s <em>just</em> what we need. Our
+ morning reports are in foul shape.
+ Foul! Come over to HQ. Lieutenant
+ Bankhead will give you a
+ lift.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Lieutenant Bankhead?”</p>
+
+ <p>I got an elbow in my ribs for
+ that. It was that girl Amy, standing
+ alongside me. “I,” she said,
+ “am Lieutenant Bankhead.”</p>
+
+ <p>Well, I went along with her,
+ leaving Engdahl and Arthur behind.
+ But I must admit I wasn’t
+ sure of my reception.</p>
+
+ <p>Out in front of the hotel was a
+ whole fleet of cars—three or four
+ of them, at least. There was a big
+ old Cadillac that looked like a
+ gangsters’ car—thick glass in the
+ windows, tires that looked like
+ they belonged on a truck. I was
+ willing to bet it was bulletproof
+ and also that it belonged to the
+ Major. I was right both times.
+ There was a little MG with the
+ top down, and a couple of light
+ trucks. Every one of them was
+ painted bright orange, and every
+ one of them had the star-and-bar
+ of the good old United States
+ Army on its side.</p>
+
+ <p>It took me back to old times—all
+ but the unmilitary color. Amy
+ led me to the MG and pointed.</p>
+
+ <p>“Sit,” she said.</p>
+
+ <p><a class="pagenum" id="page25" title="25"> </a>I sat. She got in the other side
+ and we were off.</p>
+
+ <p>It was a little uncomfortable on
+ account of I wasn’t just sure
+ whether I ought to apologize for
+ making her take her clothes off.
+ And then she tramped on the gas
+ of that little car and I didn’t think
+ much about being embarrassed or
+ about her black lace lingerie. I was
+ only thinking about one thing—how
+ to stay alive long enough to
+ get out of that car.</p>
+
+ <h2>IV</h2>
+
+ <p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">See,</span> what we really wanted was
+ an ocean liner.</p>
+
+ <p>The rest of us probably would
+ have been happy enough to stay
+ in Lehigh County, but Arthur was
+ getting restless.</p>
+
+ <p>He was a terrible responsibility,
+ in a way. I suppose there were a
+ hundred thousand people or so
+ left in the country, and not more
+ than forty or fifty of them were
+ like Arthur—I mean if you want
+ to call a man in a prosthetic tank
+ a “person.” But we all did. We’d
+ got pretty used to him. We’d
+ shipped together in the war—and
+ survived together, as a few of the
+ actual fighters did, those who were
+ lucky enough to be underwater or
+ high in the air when the ICBMs
+ landed—and as few civilians did.</p>
+
+ <p>I mean there wasn’t much
+ chance for surviving, for anybody
+ who happened to be breathing the
+ open air when it happened. I mean
+ you can do just so much about
+ making a “clean” H-bomb, and
+ if you cut out the long-life fission
+ products, the short-life ones get
+ pretty deadly.</p>
+
+ <p>Anyway, there wasn’t much
+ damage, except of course that
+ everybody was dead. All the surface
+ vessels lost their crews. All
+ the population of the cities were
+ gone. And so then, when Arthur
+ slipped on the gangplank coming
+ into Newport News and broke his
+ fool neck, why, we had the whole
+ staff of the <i>Sea Sprite</i> to work on
+ him. I mean what else did the
+ surgeons have to do?</p>
+
+ <p>Of course, that was a long time
+ ago.</p>
+
+ <p>But we’d stayed together. We
+ headed for the farm country
+ around Allentown, Pennsylvania,
+ because Arthur and Vern Engdahl
+ claimed to know it pretty
+ well. I think maybe they had some
+ hope of finding family or friends,
+ but naturally there wasn’t any of
+ that. And when you got into the
+ inland towns, there hadn’t been
+ much of an attempt to clean them
+ up. At least the big cities and the
+ ports had been gone over, in some
+ spots anyway, by burial squads.
+ Although when we finally decided
+ to move out and went to Philadelphia—</p>
+
+ <p>Well, let’s be fair; there had
+ been fighting around there after
+ the big fight. Anyway, that wasn’t
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page26" title="26"> </a>so very uncommon. That was one
+ of the reasons that for a long time—four
+ or five years, at any rate—we
+ stayed away from big cities.</p>
+
+ <p>We holed up in a big farmhouse
+ in Lehigh County. It had its own
+ generator from a little stream, and
+ that took care of Arthur’s power
+ needs; and the previous occupants
+ had been just crazy about stashing
+ away food. There was enough
+ to last a century, and that took
+ care of the two of us. We appreciated
+ that. We even took the old
+ folks out and gave them a decent
+ burial. I mean they’d all been in
+ the family car, so we just had to
+ tow it to a gravel pit and push it
+ in.</p>
+
+ <p>The place had its own well, with
+ an electric pump and a hot-water
+ system—oh, it was nice. I was sorry
+ to leave but, frankly, Arthur
+ was driving us nuts.</p>
+
+ <p>We never could make the television
+ work—maybe there weren’t
+ any stations near enough. But we
+ pulled in a couple of radio stations
+ pretty well and Arthur got a big
+ charge out of listening to them—see,
+ he could hear four or five at
+ a time and I suppose that made
+ him feel better than the rest of us.</p>
+
+ <p>He heard that the big cities
+ were cleaned up and every one of
+ them seemed to want immigrants—they
+ were pleading, pleading all
+ the time, like the TV-set and
+ vacuum-cleaner people used to in
+ the old days; they guaranteed
+ we’d like it if we only came to live
+ in Philly, or Richmond, or Baltimore,
+ or wherever. And I guess
+ Arthur kind of hoped we might
+ find another pross. And then—well,
+ Engdahl came up with this idea
+ of an ocean liner.</p>
+
+ <p>It figured. I mean you get out
+ in the middle of the ocean and
+ what’s the difference what it’s like
+ on land? And it especially appealed
+ to Arthur because he
+ wanted to do some surface sailing.
+ He never had when he was real—I
+ mean when he had arms and
+ legs like anybody else. He’d gone
+ right into the undersea service the
+ minute he got out of school.</p>
+
+ <p>And—well, sailing was what
+ Arthur knew something about and
+ I suppose even a prosthetic man
+ wants to feel useful. It was like
+ Amy said: He could be hooked
+ up to an automated factory—</p>
+
+ <p>Or to a ship.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak">HQ for the Major’s Temporary
+ Military Government—that’s
+ what the sign said—was on the
+ 91st floor of the Empire State
+ Building, and right there that tells
+ you something about the man. I
+ mean you know how much power
+ it takes to run those elevators all
+ the way up to the top? But the
+ Major must have liked being able
+ to look down on everybody else.</p>
+
+ <p>Amy Bankhead conducted me
+ to his office and sat me down to
+ wait for His Military Excellency
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page27" title="27"> </a>to arrive. She filled me in on him,
+ to some degree. He’d been an absolute
+ nothing before the war; but
+ he had a reserve commission in
+ the Air Force, and when things
+ began to look sticky, they’d called
+ him up and put him in a Missile
+ Master control point, underground
+ somewhere up around Ossining.</p>
+
+ <p>He was the duty officer when it
+ happened, and naturally he hadn’t
+ noticed anything like an enemy
+ aircraft, and naturally the anti-missile
+ missiles were still rusting
+ in their racks all around the city;
+ but since the place had been operating
+ on sealed ventilation, the
+ duty complement could stay there
+ until the short half-life radioisotopes
+ wore themselves out.</p>
+
+ <p>And then the Major found out
+ that he was not only in charge
+ of the fourteen men and women of
+ his division at the center—he was
+ ranking United States Military Establishment
+ officer farther than the
+ eye could see. So he beat it, fast
+ as he could, for New York, because
+ what Army officer doesn’t
+ dream about being stationed in
+ New York? And he set up his
+ Temporary Military Government—and
+ that was nine years ago.</p>
+
+ <p>If there hadn’t been plenty to
+ go around, I don’t suppose he
+ would have lasted a week—none
+ of these city chiefs would have.
+ But as things were, he was in on
+ the ground floor, and as newcomers
+ trickled into the city, his
+ boys already had things nicely organized.</p>
+
+ <p>It was a soft touch.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Well</span>, we were about a week
+ getting settled in New York
+ and things were looking pretty
+ good. Vern calmed me down by
+ pointing out that, after all, we had
+ to sell Arthur, and hadn’t we come
+ out of it plenty okay?</p>
+
+ <p>And we had. There was no
+ doubt about it. Not only did we
+ have a fat price for Arthur, which
+ was useful because there were a
+ lot of things we would have to buy,
+ but we both had jobs working
+ for the Major.</p>
+
+ <p>Vern was his specialist in the
+ care and feeding of Arthur and
+ I was his chief of office routine—and,
+ as such, I delighted his fussy
+ little soul, because by adding what
+ I remembered of Navy protocol
+ to what he was able to teach me
+ of Army routine, we came up with
+ as snarled a mass of red tape as
+ any field-grade officer in the whole
+ history of all armed forces had
+ been able to accumulate. Oh, I
+ tell you, nobody sneezed in New
+ York without a report being made
+ out in triplicate, with eight endorsements.</p>
+
+ <p>Of course there wasn’t anybody
+ to send them to, but that didn’t
+ stop the Major. He said with determination:
+ “Nobody’s ever going
+ to chew <em>me</em> out for non-compliance
+ with regulations—even if I
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page28" title="28"> </a>have to invent the regulations myself!”</p>
+
+ <p>We set up in a bachelor apartment
+ on Central Park South—the
+ Major had the penthouse; the
+ whole building had been converted
+ to barracks—and the first chance
+ we got, Vern snaffled some transportation
+ and we set out to find
+ an ocean liner.</p>
+
+ <p>See, the thing was that an ocean
+ liner isn’t easy to steal. I mean
+ we’d scouted out the lay of the land
+ before we ever entered the city
+ itself, and there were plenty of
+ liners, but there wasn’t one that
+ looked like we could just jump in
+ and sail it away. For that we
+ needed an organization. Since we
+ didn’t have one, the best thing to
+ do was borrow the Major’s.</p>
+
+ <p>Vern turned up with Amy Bankhead’s
+ MG, and he also turned up
+ with Amy. I can’t say I was displeased,
+ because I was beginning
+ to like the girl; but did you ever
+ try to ride three people in the seats
+ of an MG? Well, the way to do it
+ is by having one passenger sit
+ in the other passenger’s lap, which
+ would have been all right except
+ that Amy insisted on driving.</p>
+
+ <p>We headed downtown and over
+ to the West Side. The Major’s
+ Topographical Section—one former
+ billboard artist—had prepared road
+ maps with little red-ink Xs marking
+ the streets that were blocked,
+ which was most of the streets; but
+ we charted a course that would
+ take us where we wanted to go.
+ Thirty-fourth Street was open, and
+ so was Fifth Avenue all of its
+ length, so we scooted down Fifth,
+ crossed over, got under the Elevated
+ Highway and whined along
+ uptown toward the Fifties.</p>
+
+ <p>“There’s one,” cried Amy, pointing.</p>
+
+ <p>I was on Vern’s lap, so I was
+ making the notes. It was a Fruit
+ Company combination freighter-passenger
+ vessel. I looked at Vern,
+ and Vern shrugged as best he
+ could, so I wrote it down; but it
+ wasn’t exactly what we wanted.
+ No, not by a long shot.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Still</span>, the thing to do was to
+ survey our resources, and then
+ we could pick the one we liked
+ best. We went all the way up to
+ the end of the big-ship docks, and
+ then turned and came back down,
+ all the way to the Battery. It
+ wasn’t pleasure driving, exactly—half
+ a dozen times we had to get
+ out the map and detour around
+ impenetrable jams of stalled and
+ empty cars—or anyway, if they
+ weren’t exactly empty, the people
+ in them were no longer in shape
+ to get out of our way. But we
+ made it.</p>
+
+ <p>We counted sixteen ships in
+ dock that looked as though they
+ might do for our purposes. We had
+ to rule out the newer ones and
+ the reconverted jobs. I mean, after
+ all, U-235 just lasts so long, and
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page29" title="29"> </a>you can steam around the world
+ on a walnut-shell of it, or whatever
+ it is, but you can’t store it.
+ So we had to stick with the ships
+ that were powered with conventional
+ fuel—and, on consideration,
+ only oil at that.</p>
+
+ <p>But that left sixteen, as I say.
+ Some of them, though, had suffered
+ visibly from being left untended
+ for nearly a decade, so that
+ for our purposes they might as
+ well have been abandoned in the
+ middle of the Atlantic; we didn’t
+ have the equipment or ambition
+ to do any great amount of salvage
+ work.</p>
+
+ <p>The <i>Empress of Britain</i> would
+ have been a pretty good bet, for
+ instance, except that it was lying
+ at pretty nearly a forty-five-degree
+ angle in its berth. So was the
+ <i>United States</i>, and so was the
+ <i>Caronia</i>. The <i>Stockholm</i> was
+ straight enough, but I took a good
+ look, and only one tier of portholes
+ was showing above the water—evidently
+ it had settled nice and
+ even, but it was on the bottom
+ all the same. Well, that mud
+ sucks with a fine tight grip, and
+ we weren’t going to try to loosen
+ it.</p>
+
+ <p>All in all, eleven of the sixteen
+ ships were out of commission just
+ from what we could see driving
+ by.</p>
+
+ <p>Vern and I looked at each other.
+ We stood by the MG, while Amy
+ sprawled her legs over the side
+ and waited for us to make up our
+ minds.</p>
+
+ <p>“Not good, Sam,” said Vern,
+ looking worried.</p>
+
+ <p>I said: “Well, that still leaves
+ five. There’s the <i>Vulcania</i>, the
+ <i>Cristobal</i>—”</p>
+
+ <p>“Too small.”</p>
+
+ <p>“All right. The <i>Manhattan</i>, the
+ <i>Liberté</i> and the <i>Queen Elizabeth</i>.”</p>
+
+ <p>Amy looked up, her eyes
+ gleaming. “Where’s the question?”
+ she demanded. “Naturally, it’s the
+ <i>Queen</i>.”</p>
+
+ <p>I tried to explain. “Please, Amy.
+ Leave these things to us, will
+ you?”</p>
+
+ <p>“But the Major won’t settle for
+ anything but the best!”</p>
+
+ <p>“The <em>Major</em>?”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">I glanced</span> at Vern, who
+ wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Well,”
+ I said, “look at the problems, Amy.
+ First we have to check it over.
+ Maybe it’s been burned out—how
+ do we know? Maybe the channel
+ isn’t even deep enough to float it
+ any more—how do we know?
+ Where are we going to get the oil
+ for it?”</p>
+
+ <p>“We’ll get the oil,” Amy said
+ cheerfully.</p>
+
+ <p>“And what if the channel isn’t
+ deep enough?”</p>
+
+ <p>“She’ll float,” Amy promised.
+ “At high tide, anyway. Even if
+ the channel hasn’t been dredged in
+ ten years.”</p>
+
+ <p>I shrugged and gave up. What
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page30" title="30"> </a>was the use of arguing?</p>
+
+ <p>We drove back to the <i>Queen
+ Elizabeth</i> and I had to admit that
+ there was a certain attraction
+ about that big old dowager. We
+ all got out and strolled down the
+ pier, looking over as much as we
+ could see.</p>
+
+ <p>The pier had never been
+ cleaned out. It bothered me a little—I
+ mean I don’t like skeletons
+ much—but Amy didn’t seem to
+ mind. The <i>Queen</i> must have just
+ docked when it happened, because
+ you could still see bony queues,
+ as though they were waiting for
+ customs inspection.</p>
+
+ <p>Some of the bags had been
+ opened and the contents scattered
+ around—naturally, somebody was
+ bound to think of looting the
+ <i>Queen</i>. But there were as many
+ that hadn’t been touched as that
+ had been opened, and the whole
+ thing had the look of an amateur
+ attempt. And that was all to the
+ good, because the fewer persons
+ who had boarded the <i>Queen</i> in the
+ decade since it happened, the more
+ chance of our finding it in usable
+ shape.</p>
+
+ <p>Amy saw a gangplank still up,
+ and with cries of girlish glee ran
+ aboard.</p>
+
+ <p>I plucked at Vern’s sleeve.
+ “You,” I said. “What’s this about
+ what the <em>Major</em> won’t settle for
+ less than?”</p>
+
+ <p>He said: “Aw, Sam, I had to
+ tell her something, didn’t I?”</p>
+
+ <p>“But what about the Major—”</p>
+
+ <p>He said patiently: “You don’t
+ understand. It’s all part of my
+ plan, see? The Major is the big
+ thing here and he’s got a birthday
+ coming up next month. Well, the
+ way I put it to Amy, we’ll fix
+ him up with a yacht as a birthday
+ present, see? And, of course, when
+ it’s all fixed up and ready to lift
+ anchor—”</p>
+
+ <p>I said doubtfully: “That’s the
+ hard way, Vern. Why couldn’t we
+ just sort of get steam up and take
+ off?”</p>
+
+ <p>He shook his head. “<em>That</em> is the
+ hard way. This way we get all the
+ help and supplies we need, understand?”</p>
+
+ <p>I shrugged. That was the way
+ it was, so what was the use of arguing?</p>
+
+ <p>But there was one thing more
+ on my mind. I said: “How come
+ Amy’s so interested in making
+ the Major happy?”</p>
+
+ <p>Vern chortled. “Jealous, eh?”</p>
+
+ <p>“I asked a question!”</p>
+
+ <p>“Calm down, boy. It’s just that
+ he’s in charge of things here so
+ naturally she wants to keep in
+ good with him.”</p>
+
+ <p>I scowled. “I keep hearing
+ stories about how the Major’s
+ chief interest in life is women.
+ You sure she isn’t ambitious to be
+ one of them?”</p>
+
+ <p>He said: “The reason she wants
+ to keep him happy is so she <em>won’t</em>
+ be one of them.”</p>
+
+ <h2><a class="pagenum" id="page31" title="31"> </a>V</h2>
+
+ <p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">The</span> name of the place was
+ Bayonne.</p>
+
+ <p>Vern said: “One of them’s <em>got</em>
+ to have oil, Sam. It <em>has</em> to.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Sure,” I said.</p>
+
+ <p>“There’s no question about it.
+ Look, this is where the tankers
+ came to discharge oil. They’d come
+ in here, pump the oil into the refinery
+ tanks and—”</p>
+
+ <p>“Vern,” I said. “Let’s look, shall
+ we?”</p>
+
+ <p>He shrugged, and we hopped off
+ the little outboard motorboat onto
+ a landing stage. The tankers
+ towered over us, rusty and screeching
+ as the waves rubbed them
+ against each other.</p>
+
+ <p>There were fifty of them there
+ at least, and we poked around
+ them for hours. The hatches were
+ rusted shut and unmanageable,
+ but you could tell a lot by sniffing.
+ Gasoline odor was out; smell
+ of seaweed and dead fish was out;
+ but the heavy, rank smell of fuel
+ oil, that was what we were sniffing
+ for. Crews had been aboard
+ these ships when the missiles
+ came, and crews were still aboard.</p>
+
+ <p>Beyond the two-part superstructures
+ of the tankers, the skyline
+ of New York was visible. I
+ looked up, sweating, and saw the
+ Empire State Building and
+ imagined Amy up there, looking
+ out toward us.</p>
+
+ <p>She knew we were here. It was
+ her idea. She had scrounged up a
+ naval engineer, or what she called
+ a naval engineer—he had once been
+ a stoker on a ferryboat. But he
+ claimed he knew what he was
+ talking about when he said the
+ only thing the <i>Queen</i> needed to
+ make ’er go was oil. And so we
+ left him aboard to tinker and
+ polish, with a couple of helpers
+ Amy detached from the police
+ force, and we tackled the oil
+ problem.</p>
+
+ <p>Which meant Bayonne. Which
+ was where we were.</p>
+
+ <p>It had to be a tanker with at
+ least a fair portion of its cargo
+ intact, because the <i>Queen</i> was a
+ thirsty creature, drinking fuel not
+ by the shot or gallon but by the
+ ton.</p>
+
+ <p>“Saaam! Sam <em>Dunlap</em>!”</p>
+
+ <p>I looked up, startled. Five ships
+ away, across the U of the mooring,
+ Vern Engdahl was bellowing
+ at me through cupped hands.</p>
+
+ <p>“I found it!” he shouted. “Oil,
+ lots of oil! Come look!”</p>
+
+ <p>I clasped my hands over my
+ head and looked around. It was a
+ long way around to the tanker
+ Vern was on, hopping from deck
+ to deck, detouring around open
+ stretches.</p>
+
+ <p>I shouted: “I’ll get the boat!”</p>
+
+ <p>He waved and climbed up on
+ the rail of the ship, his feet dangling
+ over, looking supremely happy
+ and pleased with himself. He
+ lit a cigarette, leaned back against
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page32" title="32"> </a>the upward sweep of the rail and
+ waited.</p>
+
+ <p>It took me a little time to get
+ back to the boat and a little more
+ time than that to get the damn
+ motor started. Vern! “Let’s not
+ take that lousy little twelve horse-power,
+ Sam,” he’d said reasonably.
+ “The twenty-five’s more what
+ we need!” And maybe it was, but
+ none of the motors had been
+ started in most of a decade, and
+ the twenty-five was just that much
+ harder to start now.</p>
+
+ <p>I struggled over it, swearing,
+ for twenty minutes or more.</p>
+
+ <p>The tanker by whose side we
+ had tied up began to swing toward
+ me as the tide changed to outgoing.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">For</span> a moment there, I was
+ counting seconds, expecting to
+ have to make a jump for it before
+ the big red steel flank squeezed
+ the little outboard flat against the
+ piles.</p>
+
+ <p>But I got it started—just about
+ in time. I squeezed out of the trap
+ with not much more than a yard
+ to spare and threaded my way
+ into open water.</p>
+
+ <p>There was a large, threatening
+ sound, like an enormous slow
+ cough.</p>
+
+ <p>I rounded the stern of the last
+ tanker between me and open
+ water, and looked into the eye of
+ a fire-breathing dragon.</p>
+
+ <p>Vern and his cigarettes! The
+ tanker was loose and ablaze, bearing
+ down on me with the slow
+ drift of the ebbing tide. From the
+ hatches on the forward deck, two
+ fountains of fire spurted up and
+ out, like enormous nostrils spouting
+ flame. The hawsers had been
+ burned through, the ship was
+ adrift, I was in its path—</p>
+
+ <p>And so was the frantically
+ splashing figure of Vern Engdahl,
+ trying desperately to swim out of
+ the way in the water before it.</p>
+
+ <p>What kept it from blowing up
+ in our faces I will never know,
+ unless it was the pressure in the
+ tanks forcing the flame out; but
+ it didn’t. Not just then. Not until
+ I had Engdahl aboard and we
+ were out in the middle of the Hudson,
+ staring back; and then it
+ went up all right, all at once, like
+ a missile or a volcano; and there
+ had been fifty tankers in that one
+ mooring, but there weren’t any
+ any more, or not in shape for us
+ to use.</p>
+
+ <p>I looked at Engdahl.</p>
+
+ <p>He said defensively: “Honest,
+ Sam, I thought it was oil. It
+ <em>smelled</em> like oil. How was I to
+ know—”</p>
+
+ <p>“Shut up,” I said.</p>
+
+ <p>He shrugged, injured. “But it’s
+ all right, Sam. No fooling. There
+ are plenty of other tankers
+ around. Plenty. Down toward the
+ Amboys, maybe moored out in the
+ channel. There must be. We’ll find
+ them.”</p>
+
+ <div id="illo2" class="illo"><a class="pagenum" id="page33" title="33">&nbsp;</a>
+ <a href="images/illo2.jpg"><img src="images/illo2-sm.jpg" width="393" height="556" alt="Two men in a small boat with billowing smoke in the distance." /></a>
+ </div>
+
+ <p><a class="pagenum" id="page34" title="34"> </a>“No,” I said. “<em>You</em> will.”</p>
+
+ <p>And that was all I said, because
+ I am forgiving by nature;
+ but I thought a great deal more.</p>
+
+ <p>Surprisingly, though, he did find
+ a tanker with a full load, the
+ very next day.</p>
+
+ <p>It became a question of getting
+ the tanker to the <i>Queen</i>. I left
+ that part up to Vern, since he
+ claimed to be able to handle it.</p>
+
+ <p>It took him two weeks. First
+ it was finding the tanker, then it
+ was locating a tug in shape to
+ move, then it was finding someone
+ to pilot the tug. Then it was
+ waiting for a clear and windless
+ day—because the pilot he found
+ had got all his experience sailing
+ Star boats on Long Island Sound—and
+ then it was easing the tanker
+ out of Newark Bay, into the channel,
+ down to the pier in the North
+ River—</p>
+
+ <p>Oh, it was work and no fooling.
+ I enjoyed it very much, because
+ I didn’t have to do it.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">But</span> I had enough to keep
+ me busy at that. I found a
+ man who claimed he used to be
+ a radio engineer. And if he was an
+ engineer, I was Albert Einstein’s
+ mother, but at least he knew which
+ end of a soldering iron was hot.
+ There was no need for any great
+ skill, since there weren’t going to
+ be very many vessels to communicate
+ with.</p>
+
+ <p>Things began to move.</p>
+
+ <p>The advantage of a ship like
+ the <i>Queen</i>, for our purposes, was
+ that the thing was pretty well automated
+ to start out with. I mean
+ never mind what the seafaring
+ unions required in the way of
+ flesh-and-blood personnel. What it
+ came down to was that one man in
+ the bridge or wheelhouse could
+ pretty well make any part of the
+ ship go or not go.</p>
+
+ <p>The engine-room telegraph
+ wasn’t hooked up to control the
+ engines, no. But the wiring diagram
+ needed only a few little
+ changes to get the same effect,
+ because where in the original concept
+ a human being would take a
+ look at the repeater down in the
+ engine room, nod wisely, and push
+ a button that would make the
+ engines stop, start, or whatever—why,
+ all we had to do was cut
+ out the middleman, so to speak.</p>
+
+ <p>Our genius of the soldering iron
+ replaced flesh and blood with some
+ wiring and, presto, we had centralized
+ engine control.</p>
+
+ <p>The steering was even easier.
+ Steering was a matter of electronic
+ control and servomotors to begin
+ with. Windjammers in the old
+ movies might have a man lashed
+ to the wheel whose muscle power
+ turned the rudder, but, believe me,
+ a big superliner doesn’t. The rudders
+ weigh as much as any old
+ windjammer ever did from stem
+ to stern; you have to have motors
+ to turn them; and it was only a
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page35" title="35"> </a>matter of getting out the old soldering
+ iron again.</p>
+
+ <p>By the time we were through,
+ we had every operational facility
+ of the <i>Queen</i> hooked up to a single
+ panel on the bridge.</p>
+
+ <p>Engdahl showed up with the oil
+ tanker just about the time we got
+ the wiring complete. We rigged up
+ a pump and filled the bunkers till
+ they were topped off full. We
+ guessed, out of hope and ignorance,
+ that there was enough in there to
+ take us half a dozen times around
+ the world at normal cruising speed,
+ and maybe there was. Anyway,
+ it didn’t matter, for surely we had
+ enough to take us anywhere we
+ wanted to go, and then there
+ would be more.</p>
+
+ <p>We crossed our fingers, turned
+ our ex-ferry-stoker loose, pushed a
+ button—</p>
+
+ <p>Smoke came out of the stacks.</p>
+
+ <p>The antique screws began to
+ turn over. Astern, a sort of hump
+ of muddy water appeared. The
+ <i>Queen</i> quivered underfoot. The
+ mooring hawsers creaked and sang.</p>
+
+ <p>“Turn her off!” screamed Engdahl.
+ “She’s headed for Times
+ Square!”</p>
+
+ <p>Well, that was an exaggeration,
+ but not much of one; and there
+ wasn’t any sense in stirring up
+ the bottom mud. I pushed buttons
+ and the screws stopped. I pushed
+ another button, and the big engines
+ quietly shut themselves off,
+ and in a few moments the stacks
+ stopped puffing their black smoke.</p>
+
+ <p>The ship was alive.</p>
+
+ <p>Solemnly Engdahl and I shook
+ hands. We had the thing licked.
+ All, that is, except for the one
+ small problem of Arthur.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">The</span> thing about Arthur was
+ they had put him to work.</p>
+
+ <p>It was in the power station, just
+ as Amy had said, and Arthur
+ didn’t like it. The fact that he
+ didn’t like it was a splendid reason
+ for staying away from there, but
+ I let my kind heart overrule my
+ good sense and paid him a visit.</p>
+
+ <p>It was way over on the East
+ Side, miles and miles from any
+ civilized area. I borrowed Amy’s
+ MG, and borrowed Amy to go
+ with it, and the two of us packed
+ a picnic lunch and set out. There
+ were reports of deer on Avenue
+ A, so I brought a rifle, but we
+ never saw one; and if you want
+ my opinion, those reports were
+ nothing but wishful thinking. I
+ mean if people couldn’t survive,
+ how could deer?</p>
+
+ <p>We finally threaded our way
+ through the clogged streets and
+ parked in front of the power station.</p>
+
+ <p>“There’s supposed to be a
+ guard,” Amy said doubtfully.</p>
+
+ <p>I looked. I looked pretty carefully,
+ because if there was a guard,
+ I wanted to see him. The Major’s
+ orders were that vital defense installations—such
+ as the power station,
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page36" title="36"> </a>the PX and his own barracks
+ building—were to be guarded
+ against trespassers on a shoot-on-sight
+ basis and I wanted to make
+ sure that the guard knew we were
+ privileged persons, with passes
+ signed by the Major’s own hand.
+ But we couldn’t find him. So we
+ walked in through the big door,
+ peered around, listened for the
+ sounds of machinery and walked
+ in that direction.</p>
+
+ <p>And then we found him; he was
+ sound asleep. Amy, looking indignant,
+ shook him awake.</p>
+
+ <p>“Is that how you guard military
+ property?” she scolded. “Don’t
+ you know the penalty for sleeping
+ at your post?”</p>
+
+ <p>The guard said something irritable
+ and unhappy. I got her off
+ his back with some difficulty, and
+ we located Arthur.</p>
+
+ <p>Picture a shiny four-gallon tomato
+ can, with the label stripped
+ off, hanging by wire from the
+ flashing-light panels of an electric
+ computer. That was Arthur. The
+ shiny metal cylinder was his prosthetic
+ tank; the wires were the
+ leads that served him for fingers,
+ ears and mouth; the glittering
+ panel was the control center for
+ the Consolidated Edison Eastside
+ Power Plant No. 1.</p>
+
+ <p>“Hi, Arthur,” I said, and a sudden
+ ear-splitting thunderous hiss was
+ his way of telling me that he knew
+ I was there.</p>
+
+ <p>I didn’t know exactly what it
+ was he was trying to say and I
+ didn’t want to; fortune spares me
+ few painful moments, and I accept
+ with gratitude the ones it does.
+ The Major’s boys hadn’t bothered
+ to bring Arthur’s typewriter along—I
+ mean who cares what a generator-governor
+ had to offer in the
+ way of conversation?—so all he
+ could do was blow off steam from
+ the distant boilers.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Well</span>, not quite all. Light
+ flashed; a bucket conveyor
+ began crashingly to dump loads of
+ coal; and an alarm gong began to
+ pound.</p>
+
+ <p>“Please, Arthur,” I begged.
+ “Shut up a minute and listen, will
+ you?”</p>
+
+ <p>More lights. The gong rapped
+ half a dozen times sharply, and
+ stopped.</p>
+
+ <p>I said: “Arthur, you’ve got to
+ trust Vern and me. We have this
+ thing figured out now. We’ve got
+ the <i>Queen Elizabeth</i>—”</p>
+
+ <p>A shattering hiss of steam—meaning
+ delight this time, I
+ thought. Or anyway hoped.</p>
+
+ <p>“—and its only a question of
+ time until we can carry out the
+ plan. Vern says to apologize for
+ not looking in on you—” <em>hiss</em>—“but
+ he’s been busy. And after all, you
+ know it’s more important to get
+ everything ready so you can get
+ out of this place, right?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Psst,” said Amy.</p>
+
+ <p>She nodded briefly past my
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page37" title="37"> </a>shoulder. I looked, and there was
+ the guard, looking sleepy and surly
+ and definitely suspicious.</p>
+
+ <p>I said heartily: “So as soon as
+ I fix it up with the Major, we’ll
+ arrange for something better for
+ you. Meanwhile, Arthur, you’re
+ doing a capital job and I want you
+ to know that all of us loyal New
+ York citizens and public servants
+ deeply appreciate—”</p>
+
+ <p>Thundering crashes, bangs,
+ gongs, hisses, and the scream of a
+ steam whistle he’d found somewhere.</p>
+
+ <p>Arthur was mad.</p>
+
+ <p>“So long, Arthur,” I said, and
+ we got out of there—just barely
+ in time. At the door, we found that
+ Arthur had reversed the coal
+ scoops and a growing mound of
+ it was pouring into the street where
+ we’d left the MG parked. We got
+ the car started just as the heap
+ was beginning to reach the bumpers,
+ and at that the paint would
+ never again be the same.</p>
+
+ <p>Oh, yes, he was mad. I could
+ only hope that in the long run he
+ would forgive us, since we were
+ acting for his best interests, after
+ all.</p>
+
+ <p>Anyway, I <em>thought</em> we were.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Still</span>, things worked out pretty
+ well—especially between Amy
+ and me. Engdahl had the theory
+ that she had been dodging the
+ Major so long that <em>anybody</em> looked
+ good to her, which was hardly
+ flattering. But she and I were
+ getting along right well.</p>
+
+ <p>She said worriedly: “The only
+ thing, Sam, is that, frankly, the
+ Major has just about made up his
+ mind that he wants to marry me—”</p>
+
+ <p>“He <em>is</em> married!” I yelped.</p>
+
+ <p>“Naturally he’s married. He’s
+ married to—so far—one hundred
+ and nine women. He’s been hitting
+ off a marriage a month for a good
+ many years now and, to tell you
+ the truth, I think he’s got the habit
+ Anyway, he’s got his eye on me.”</p>
+
+ <p>I demanded jealously: “Has he
+ said anything?”</p>
+
+ <p>She picked a sheet of onionskin
+ paper out of her bag and handed
+ it to me. It was marked <i>Top
+ Secret</i>, and it really was, because
+ it hadn’t gone through his regular
+ office—I knew that because I was
+ his regular office. It was only two
+ lines of text and sloppily typed
+ at that:</p>
+
+ <blockquote>
+ <p>Lt. Amy Bankhead will report
+ to HQ at 1700 hours 1 July to
+ carry out orders of the Commanding
+ Officer.</p>
+ </blockquote>
+
+ <p>The first of July was only a
+ week away. I handed the orders
+ back to her.</p>
+
+ <p>“And the orders of the Commanding
+ Officer will be—” I
+ wanted to know.</p>
+
+ <p>She nodded. “You guessed it.”</p>
+
+ <p>I said: “We’ll have to work
+ fast.”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><a class="pagenum" id="page38" title="38"> </a><span class="first_word">On</span> the thirtieth of June, we
+ invited the Major to come
+ aboard his palatial new yacht.</p>
+
+ <p>“Ah, thank you,” he said gratefully.
+ “A surprise? For my birthday?
+ Ah, you loyal members of
+ my command make up for all that
+ I’ve lost—all of it!” He nearly
+ wept.</p>
+
+ <p>I said: “Sir, the pleasure is all
+ ours,” and backed out of his presence.
+ What’s more, I meant every
+ word.</p>
+
+ <p>It was a select party of slightly
+ over a hundred. All of the wives
+ were there, barring twenty or thirty
+ who were in disfavor—still, that
+ left over eighty. The Major
+ brought half a dozen of his favorite
+ officers. His bodyguard and our
+ crew added up to a total of thirty
+ men.</p>
+
+ <p>We were set up to feed a hundred
+ and fifty, and to provide
+ liquor for twice that many, so it
+ looked like a nice friendly brawl.
+ I mean we had our radio operator
+ handing out highballs as the guests
+ stepped on board. The Major was
+ touched and delighted; it was
+ exactly the kind of party he liked.</p>
+
+ <p>He came up the gangplank with
+ his face one great beaming smile.
+ “Eat! Drink!” he cried. “Ah, and
+ be merry!” He stretched out his
+ hands to Amy, standing by behind
+ the radio op. “For tomorrow we
+ wed,” he added, and sentimentally
+ kissed his proposed bride.</p>
+
+ <p>I cleared my throat. “How about
+ inspecting the ship, Major?” I interrupted.</p>
+
+ <p>“Plenty of time for that, my
+ boy,” he said. “Plenty of time for
+ that.” But he let go of Amy and
+ looked around him. Well, it was
+ worth looking at. Those Englishmen
+ really knew how to build a
+ luxury liner. God rest them.</p>
+
+ <p>The girls began roaming around.</p>
+
+ <p>It was a hot day and late afternoon,
+ and the girls began discarding
+ jackets and boleros, and that
+ began to annoy the Major.</p>
+
+ <p>“Ah, cover up there!” he ordered
+ one of his wives. “You too
+ there, what’s-your-name. Put that
+ blouse back on!”</p>
+
+ <p>It gave him something to think
+ about. He was a very jealous man,
+ Amy had said, and when you stop
+ to think about it, a jealous man
+ with a hundred and nine wives to
+ be jealous of really has a job. Anyway,
+ he was busy watching his
+ wives and keeping his military
+ cabinet and his bodyguard busy
+ too, and that made him too busy
+ to notice when I tipped the high
+ sign to Vern and took off.</p>
+
+ <h2>VI</h2>
+
+ <p class="first_paragraph"><span class="first_word">In</span> Consolidated Edison’s big
+ power plant, the guard was
+ friendly. “I hear the Major’s over
+ on your boat, pal. Big doings. Got
+ a lot of the girls there, hey?”</p>
+
+ <p>He bent, sniggering, to look at
+ my pass.</p>
+
+ <p><a class="pagenum" id="page39" title="39"> </a>“That’s right, pal,” I said, and
+ slugged him.</p>
+
+ <p>Arthur screamed at me with a
+ shrill blast of steam as I came in.
+ But only once. I wasn’t there for
+ conversation. I began ripping apart
+ his comfy little home of steel
+ braces and copper wires, and it
+ didn’t take much more than a
+ minute before I had him free. And
+ that was very fortunate because,
+ although I had tied up the guard,
+ I hadn’t done it very well, and it
+ was just about the time I had
+ Arthur’s steel case tucked under
+ my arm that I heard a yelling and
+ bellowing from down the stairs.</p>
+
+ <p>The guard had got free.</p>
+
+ <p>“Keep calm, Arthur!” I ordered
+ sharply. “We’ll get out of this,
+ don’t you worry!”</p>
+
+ <p>But he wasn’t worried, or anyway
+ didn’t show it, since he
+ couldn’t. I was the one who was
+ worried. I was up on the second
+ floor of the plant, in the control
+ center, with only one stairway going
+ down that I knew about, and
+ that one thoroughly guarded by
+ a man with a grudge against me.
+ Me, I had Arthur, and no weapon,
+ and I hadn’t a doubt in the world
+ that there were other guards
+ around and that my friend would
+ have them after me before long.</p>
+
+ <p>Problem. I took a deep breath
+ and swallowed and considered
+ jumping out the window. But it
+ wasn’t far enough to the ground.</p>
+
+ <p>Feet pounded up the stairs,
+ more than two of them. With
+ Arthur dragging me down on one
+ side, I hurried, fast as I could,
+ along the steel galleries that surrounded
+ the biggest boiler. It was
+ a nice choice of alternatives—if I
+ stayed quiet, they would find me;
+ if I ran, they would hear me, and
+ then find me.</p>
+
+ <p>But ahead there was—what?
+ Something. A flight of stairs, it
+ looked like, going out and, yes, <em>up</em>.
+ Up? But I was already on the
+ second floor.</p>
+
+ <p>“Hey, you!” somebody bellowed
+ from behind me.</p>
+
+ <p>I didn’t stop to consider. I ran.
+ It wasn’t steps, not exactly; it was
+ a chain of coal scoops on a long
+ derrick arm, a moving bucket arrangement
+ for unloading fuel from
+ barges. It did go up, though, and
+ more important it went <em>out</em>. The
+ bucket arm was stretched across
+ the clogged roadway below to a
+ loading tower that hung over the
+ water.</p>
+
+ <p>If I could get there, I might
+ be able to get down. If I could get
+ down—yes, I could see it; there
+ were three or four mahogany
+ motor launches tied to the foot of
+ the tower.</p>
+
+ <p>And nobody around.</p>
+
+ <p>I looked over my shoulder, and
+ didn’t like what I saw, and scuttled
+ up that chain of enormous
+ buckets like a roach on a washboard,
+ one hand for me and one
+ hand for Arthur.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><a class="pagenum" id="page40" title="40"> </a><span class="first_word">Thank</span> heaven, I had a good
+ lead on my pursuers—I needed
+ it. I was on the bucket chain while
+ they were still almost a city block
+ behind me, along the galleries. I
+ was halfway across the roadway,
+ afraid to look down, before they
+ reached the butt end of the chain.</p>
+
+ <p>Clash-clatter. <em>Clank!</em> The bucket
+ under me jerked and clattered and
+ nearly threw me into the street.
+ One of those jokers had turned on
+ the conveyor! It was a good trick,
+ all right, but not quite in time. I
+ made a flying jump and I was on
+ the tower.</p>
+
+ <p>I didn’t stop to thumb my nose
+ at them, but I thought of it.</p>
+
+ <p>I was down those steel steps,
+ breathing like a spouting whale,
+ in a minute flat, and jumping out
+ across the concrete, coal-smeared
+ yard toward the moored launches.
+ Quickly enough, I guess, but with
+ nothing at all to spare, because although
+ I hadn’t seen anyone
+ there, there was a guard.</p>
+
+ <p>He popped out of a doorway,
+ blinking foolishly; and overhead
+ the guards at the conveyor belt
+ were screaming at him. It took him
+ a second to figure out what was
+ going on, and by that time I was
+ in a launch, cast off the rope,
+ kicked it free, and fumbled for
+ the starting button.</p>
+
+ <p>It took me several seconds to
+ realize that a rope was required,
+ that in fact there was no button;
+ and by then I was floating yards
+ away, but the pudgy pop-eyed
+ guard was also in a launch, and he
+ didn’t have to fumble. He knew.
+ He got his motor started a fraction
+ of a second before me, and
+ there he was, coming at me, set
+ to ram. Or so it looked.</p>
+
+ <p>I wrenched at the wheel and
+ brought the boat hard over; but
+ he swerved too, at the last moment,
+ and brought up something
+ that looked a little like a spear
+ and a little like a sickle and turned
+ out to be a boathook. I ducked,
+ just in time. It sizzled over my
+ head as he swung and crashed
+ against the windshield. Hunks of
+ safety glass splashed out over the
+ forward deck, but better that than
+ my head.</p>
+
+ <p>Boathooks, hey? I had a boathook
+ too! If he didn’t have another
+ weapon, I was perfectly willing
+ to play; I’d been sitting and taking
+ it long enough and I was very
+ much attracted by the idea of
+ fighting back. The guard recovered
+ his balance, swore at me, fought
+ the wheel around and came back.</p>
+
+ <p>We both curved out toward the
+ center of the East River in intersecting
+ arcs. We closed. He
+ swung first. I ducked—</p>
+
+ <p>And from a crouch, while he
+ was off balance, I caught him in
+ the shoulder with the hook.</p>
+
+ <p>He made a mighty splash.</p>
+
+ <p>I throttled down the motor long
+ enough to see that he was still conscious.</p>
+
+ <p><a class="pagenum" id="page41" title="41"> </a>“<em lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">Touché</em>, buster,” I said, and set
+ course for the return trip down
+ around the foot of Manhattan,
+ back toward the <i>Queen</i>.</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">It</span> took a while, but that was
+ all right; it gave everybody a
+ nice long time to get plastered. I
+ sneaked aboard, carrying Arthur,
+ and turned him over to Vern. Then
+ I rejoined the Major. He was
+ making an inspection tour of the
+ ship—what he called an inspection,
+ after his fashion.</p>
+
+ <p>He peered into the engine
+ rooms and said: “Ah, fine.”</p>
+
+ <p>He stared at the generators that
+ were turning over and nodded
+ when I explained we needed them
+ for power for lights and everything
+ and said: “Ah, of course.”</p>
+
+ <p>He opened a couple of stateroom
+ doors at random and said:
+ “Ah, nice.”</p>
+
+ <p>And he went up on the flying
+ bridge with me and such of his
+ officers as still could walk and
+ said: “Ah.”</p>
+
+ <p>Then he said in a totally different
+ tone: “What the devil’s the
+ matter over there?”</p>
+
+ <p>He was staring east through the
+ muggy haze. I saw right away
+ what it was that was bothering him—easy,
+ because I knew where to
+ look. The power plant way over
+ on the East Side was billowing
+ smoke.</p>
+
+ <p>“Where’s Vern Engdahl? That
+ gadget of his isn’t working right!”</p>
+
+ <p>“You mean Arthur?”</p>
+
+ <p>“I mean that brain in a bottle.
+ It’s Engdahl’s responsibility, you
+ know!”</p>
+
+ <p>Vern came up out of the wheelhouse
+ and cleared his throat.
+ “Major,” he said earnestly, “I
+ think there’s some trouble over
+ there. Maybe you ought to go
+ look for yourself.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Trouble?”</p>
+
+ <p>“I, uh, hear there’ve been power
+ failures,” Vern said lamely. “Don’t
+ you think you ought to inspect it?
+ I mean just in case there’s something
+ serious?”</p>
+
+ <p>The Major stared at him
+ frostily, and then his mood
+ changed. He took a drink from the
+ glass in his hand, quickly finishing
+ it off.</p>
+
+ <p>“Ah,” he said, “hell with it.
+ Why spoil a good party? If there
+ are going to be power failures,
+ why, let them be. That’s my
+ motto!”</p>
+
+ <p>Vern and I looked at each other.
+ He shrugged slightly, meaning,
+ well, we tried. And I shrugged
+ slightly, meaning, what did you
+ expect? And then he glanced upward,
+ meaning, take a look at
+ what’s there.</p>
+
+ <p>But I didn’t really have to look
+ because I heard what it was. In
+ fact, I’d been hearing it for some
+ time. It was the Major’s entire air
+ force—two helicopters, swirling
+ around us at an average altitude of
+ a hundred feet or so. They showed
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page42" title="42"> </a>up bright against the gathering
+ clouds overhead, and I looked at
+ them with considerable interest—partly
+ because I considered it an
+ even-money bet that one of them
+ would be playing crumple-fender
+ with our stacks, partly because I
+ had an idea that they were not
+ there solely for show.</p>
+
+ <p>I said to the Major: “Chief,
+ aren’t they coming a little close?
+ I mean it’s <em>your</em> ship and all, but
+ what if one of them takes a spill
+ into the bridge while you’re here?”</p>
+
+ <p>He grinned. “They know better,”
+ he bragged. “Ah, besides, I want
+ them close. I mean if anything
+ went wrong.”</p>
+
+ <p>I said, in a tone that showed as
+ much deep hurt as I could
+ manage: “Sir, what could go
+ wrong?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Oh, you know.” He patted my
+ shoulder limply. “Ah, no offense?”
+ he asked.</p>
+
+ <p>I shook my head. “Well,” I said,
+ “let’s go below.”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">All</span> of it was done carefully,
+ carefully as could be. The
+ only thing was, we forgot about
+ the typewriters. We got everybody,
+ or as near as we could, into
+ the Grand Salon where the food
+ was, and right there on a table at
+ the end of the hall was one of the
+ typewriters clacking away. Vern
+ had rigged them up with rolls of
+ paper instead of sheets, and maybe
+ that was ingenious, but it was
+ also a headache just then. Because
+ the typewriter was banging out:</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">LEFT FOUR THIRTEEN
+ FOURTEEN AND TWENTYONE
+ BOILERS WITH A FULL
+ HEAD OF STEAM AND THE
+ SAFETY VALVES LOCKED
+ BOY I TELL YOU WHEN
+ THOSE THINGS LET GO
+ YOURE GOING TO HEAR A
+ NOISE THATLL KNOCK
+ YOUR HAT OFF</p>
+
+ <p>The Major inquired politely:
+ “Something to do with the ship?”</p>
+
+ <p>“Oh, <em>that</em>,” said Vern. “Yeah.
+ Just a little, uh, something to do
+ with the ship. Say, Major, here’s
+ the bar. Real scotch, see? Look
+ at the label!”</p>
+
+ <p>The Major glanced at him with
+ faint contempt—well, he’d had the
+ pick of the greatest collection of
+ high-priced liquor stores in the
+ world for ten years, so no wonder.
+ But he allowed Vern to press a
+ drink on him.</p>
+
+ <p>And the typewriter kept rattling:</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">LOOKS LIKE RAIN ANY
+ MINUTE NOW HOO BOY IM
+ GLAD I WONT BE IN THOSE
+ WHIRLYBIRDS WHEN THE
+ STORM STARTS SAY VERN
+ WHY DONT YOU EVER ANSWER
+ ME Q Q ISNT IT
+ ABOUT TIME TO TAKE
+ OFF XXX I MEAN GET UNDER
+ WEIGH Q Q</p>
+
+ <p>Some of the “clerks, typists, domestic
+ personnel and others”—that
+ was the way they were listed on
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page43" title="43"> </a>the T/O; it was only coincidence
+ that the Major had married them
+ all—were staring at the typewriter.</p>
+
+ <p>“Drinks!” Vern called nervously.
+ “Come on, girls! Drinks!”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">The</span> Major poured himself a
+ stiff shot and asked: “What <em>is</em>
+ that thing? A teletype or something?”</p>
+
+ <p>“That’s right,” Vern said, trailing
+ after him as the Major wandered
+ over to inspect it.</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">I GIVE THOSE BOILERS
+ ABOUT TEN MORE MINUTES
+ SAM WELL WHAT
+ ABOUT IT Q Q READY TO
+ SHOVE OFF Q Q</p>
+
+ <p>The Major said, frowning faintly:
+ “Ah, that reminds me of something.
+ Now what is it?”</p>
+
+ <p>“More scotch?” Vern cried.
+ “Major, a little more scotch?”</p>
+
+ <p>The Major ignored him, scowling.
+ One of the “clerks, typists”
+ said: “Honey, you know what it
+ is? It’s like that pross you had,
+ remember? It was on our wedding
+ night, and you’d just got it, and
+ you kept asking it to tell you
+ limericks.”</p>
+
+ <p>The Major snapped his fingers.
+ “Knew I’d get it,” he glowed.
+ Then abruptly he scowled again
+ and turned to face Vern and me.
+ “Say—” he began.</p>
+
+ <p>I said weakly: “The boilers.”</p>
+
+ <p>The Major stared at me, then
+ glanced out the window. “What
+ boilers?” he demanded. “It’s just
+ a thunderstorm. Been building up
+ all day. Now what about this? Is
+ that thing—”</p>
+
+ <p>But Vern was paying him no
+ attention. “Thunderstorm?” he
+ yelled. “Arthur, you listening? Are
+ the helicopters gone?”</p>
+
+ <p class="arthur_speak">YESYESYES</p>
+
+ <p>“Then shove off, Arthur! Shove
+ off!”</p>
+
+ <p>The typewriter rattled and
+ slammed madly.</p>
+
+ <p>The Major yelled angrily:
+ “Now listen to me, you! I’m
+ asking you a question!”</p>
+
+ <p>But we didn’t have to answer,
+ because there was a thrumming
+ and a throbbing underfoot, and
+ then one of the “clerks, typists”
+ screamed: “The dock!” She
+ pointed at a porthole. “It’s
+ moving!”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">Well</span>, we got out of there—barely
+ in time. And then it
+ was up to Arthur. We had the
+ whole ship to roam around in
+ and there were plenty of places
+ to hide. They had the whole ship
+ to search. And Arthur was the
+ whole ship.</p>
+
+ <p>Because it was Arthur, all right,
+ brought in and hooked up by
+ Vern, attained to his greatest
+ dream and ambition. He was skipper
+ of a superliner, and more than
+ any skipper had ever been—the
+ ship was his body, as the prosthetic
+ tank had never been; the keel his
+ belly, the screws his feet, the engines
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page44" title="44"> </a>his heart and lungs, and
+ every moving part that could be
+ hooked into central control his
+ many, many hands.</p>
+
+ <div id="illo3" class="illo">
+ <img src="images/illo3.jpg" width="860" height="342" alt="A suitcase with an eyestalk is wired into a big control panel; two men look on." />
+ <a href="images/illo3-left.jpg" class="img_link">Left side image</a>
+ <a href="images/illo3-right.jpg" class="img_link">Right side image</a>
+ </div>
+
+ <!-- Original location of left side of illo 3 -->
+
+ <p>Search for us? They were
+ lucky they could move at all!
+ Fire Control washed them with
+ salt water hoses, directed by Arthur’s
+ brain. Watertight doors,
+ proof against sinking, locked them
+ away from us at Arthur’s whim.</p>
+
+ <p>The big bull whistle overhead
+ brayed like a clamoring Gabriel,
+ and the ship’s bells tinkled and
+ clanged. Arthur backed that enormous
+ ship out of its berth like a
+ racing scull on the Schuylkill. The
+ four giant screws lashed the water
+ into white foam, and then the thin
+ mud they sucked up into tan; and
+ the ship backed, swerved, lashed
+ the water, stopped, and staggered
+ crazily forward.</p>
+
+ <p>Arthur brayed at the Statue of
+ Liberty, tooted good-by to Staten
+ Island, feinted a charge at Sandy
+ Hook and really laid back his ears
+ and raced once he got to deep
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page45" title="45"> </a><!-- Original location of right side of illo 3 -->water past the moored lightship.</p>
+
+ <p>We were off!</p>
+
+ <p>Well, from there on, it was easy.
+ We let Arthur have his fun with
+ the Major and the bodyguards—and
+ by the sodden, whimpering
+ shape they were in when they
+ came out, it must really have been
+ fun for him. There were just the
+ three of us and only Vern and I
+ had guns—but Arthur had the
+ <i>Queen Elizabeth</i>, and that put the
+ odds on our side.</p>
+
+ <p>We gave the Major a choice:
+ row back to Coney Island—we
+ offered him a boat, free of charge—or
+ come along with us as cabin
+ boy. He cast one dim-eyed look
+ at the hundred and nine “clerks,
+ typists” and at Amy, who would
+ never be the hundred and tenth.</p>
+
+ <p>And then he shrugged and,
+ game loser, said: “Ah, why not?
+ I’ll come along.”</p>
+
+ <hr class="thoughtbreak" />
+
+ <p class="post_thoughtbreak"><span class="first_word">And</span> why not, when you come
+ to think of it? I mean ruling
+ a city is nice and all that, but a
+ <a class="pagenum" id="page46" title="46"> </a>sea voyage is a refreshing change.
+ And while a hundred and nine to
+ one is a respectable female-male
+ ratio, still it must be wearing; and
+ eighty to thirty isn’t so bad, either.
+ At least, I guess that was what
+ was in the Major’s mind. I know it
+ was what was in mine.</p>
+
+ <p>And I discovered that it was in
+ Amy’s, for the first thing she did
+ was to march me over to the typewriter
+ and say: “You’ve had it,
+ Sam. We’ll dispose with the wedding
+ march—just get your friend
+ Arthur here to marry us.”</p>
+
+ <p>“Arthur?”</p>
+
+ <p>“The captain,” she said. “We’re
+ on the high seas and he’s empowered
+ to perform marriages.”</p>
+
+ <p>Vern looked at me and shrugged,
+ meaning, you asked for this one,
+ boy. And I looked at him and
+ shrugged, meaning, it could be
+ worse.</p>
+
+ <p>And indeed it could. We’d got
+ our ship; we’d got our ship’s company—because,
+ naturally, there
+ wasn’t any use stealing a big ship
+ for just a couple of us. We’d had
+ to manage to get a sizable colony
+ aboard. That was the whole idea.</p>
+
+ <p>The world, in fact, was ours. It
+ could have been very much worse
+ indeed, even though Arthur was
+ laughing so hard as he performed
+ the ceremony that he jammed up
+ all his keys.</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p class="attribution">—FREDERIK POHL</p>
+
+<div id="the_end">&nbsp;</div>
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
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+</pre>
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+</body>
+</html>
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