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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Death of a B.E.M., by Berkeley Livingston
+
+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: Death of a B.E.M.
+
+Author: Berkeley Livingston
+
+Release Date: June 7, 2010 [EBook #32726]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DEATH OF A B.E.M. ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+    Transcriber's Note:
+
+    This etext was produced from Amazing Stories October 1948.
+    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+    copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+[Illustration: The B. E. M. purred contentedly as the giant stroked his
+eyeballs]
+
+                        DEATH OF A B. E. M.
+
+                        by BERKELEY LIVINGSTON
+
+    The writer hated to create bug-eyed monsters, but they hated him
+    too!
+
+
+
+"Blast them!" the writer groaned in bitter accents. "How I hate those
+B. E. M's.!"
+
+"Hang them!" the artist yelled. "How I hate those B. E. M's.!"
+
+"Darn them!" the B. E. M. moaned. "How I hate those humans!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The artist and the writer sat staring at each other in wordless
+misery, their coffee untasted and their spirits at low ebb. Up above,
+in the beehive that was the publishing house which gave them their
+livelihood, the word had gone around. _B. E. M'S, B. E. M'S...._
+
+Sadly, in accents forlorn, the writer said:
+
+"Bug-eyed monsters! Ye gads! Bug-eyed monsters! Jack, old boy, do you
+realize we're setting science-fiction back a hundred years?"
+
+"I know just how you feel, Harry," the artist replied. "After all, we
+too had presumed that we had been freed of these monsters. So back we
+go to the drawing board, our minds tortured and twisted ..." He sighed
+disconsolately.
+
+"Oh, well," the writer sighed and blew out his breath. He stared
+fixedly at his coffee until a something blue slipped into focus. His
+glance traveled upward from the hem of the girl's apron, past the
+lovely swell of her charms and on past the sweet throat, to the gay,
+smiling face and sparkling eyes. Forgotten then were B. E. M's. for
+both. Diane, the goddess of the restaurant corps of enchanting
+waitresses, was at their side....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Hiah-Leugh was having his eyeballs massaged. It was a delicate and
+tedious operation for the one doing the massaging; not every Goman was
+possessed of eight eyeballs. But Hiah-Leugh was not an ordinary Goman.
+Not he! He was chief of all the Gomans, which meant he was head of all
+the bug-eyed monsters on the whole of the planet of XYZ268PDQ.
+
+The four-headed slave, one of the giants Hiah-Leugh's tribe had
+captured on one of their forays into the terrible forest of Evil
+Contractions, scratched himself with one of his six arms. He was quite
+bored with this peaceful, though tedious pursuit the tribe of
+Hiah-Leugh had given to him as his duties. Especially the massaging of
+eyeballs. Of course it helped to have six arms. Ooh! His four heads
+ranged themselves in a single line.
+
+The slave had committed a sin.
+
+There were three cardinal sins on the planet of XYZ268PDQ. Two of them
+were unmentionable and the third was forgetting to massage all of the
+eight eyeballs of Hiah-Leugh at one and the same time. If it were not
+for the massage the giants of the planet would all live in peace. But
+it took a man with six arms to do the job. In fact it was to the
+regret of Hiah-Leugh that the giants did not have eight arms.
+
+Now one of the eyelids was closing. In a second or two it would be
+closed completely and once a single of the eight eyes closed the
+others automatically followed suit. There was but a single thing to do
+in this case. The giant did it.
+
+He poked his finger into the drooping lid.
+
+Hiah-Leugh awoke with a suddenness of shock and startled surprise. He
+howled in pain then leaped from the chair, scuttling about the
+room-of-massage on his twelve pairs of crablike legs at a great pace.
+
+"Heavens to Betsy!" Hiah-Leugh screamed. "You _are_ the clumsiest
+giant.... But what can a B. E. M. expect? Oh, well! You're excused. Go
+and see if there are any children to frighten...."
+
+There were four different expressions on the four heads. One showed
+pleasure, and another, surprise and a third, gloom and the fourth was
+blank completely. This head was the dumb one. It had but one
+expression, blankness. The four heads bent and the great body bowed
+low, and slowly, with great effort and with many bumpings into various
+pieces of furniture, the giant bowed himself out of the massage
+parlor.
+
+Hiah-Leugh was left alone.
+
+But not for long. Suddenly a whole section of the wall slid back
+showing another room. This was the famous Gloating Chamber of
+Hiah-Leugh. Here were brought all the victims the tribe captured. And
+here it was that their chief was supposed to spend his time in
+_Gloating_ over the tortures his torturers were supposed to spend
+their time in devising. But business had been very bad lately. Not
+only was there not a single victim in the Gloating Chamber, there was
+not a single torturer available. Hiah-Leugh suddenly remembered.
+Something about a picnic.... Then why had the wall slid back?
+
+"_Hiah-Leugh! Hiah-Leugh!_" it was the clarion call of his ninth
+concubine, the lovely and charming Sally Patica. But what in the name
+of all that was unmentionable was she doing in the Gloating Chamber?
+Of course she too could be _Gloating_!
+
+He moved slowly toward the room, hoping against hope she was not in a
+bad mood. The last time she had called in that tone of voice he had
+suffered greatly. She had made him go without an eyeball massage for a
+whole week....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+She was pacing back and forth on the long, raised platform. Hiah-Leugh
+skirted the Iron Maiden, the Pallid Pulley, the Bronze Beater, the
+Copper Conker, and Giant Mas-Mixer, which was a fake. Nothing was ever
+mixed in it except the noxious weed Hiah-Leugh used in his pipe. At
+the sound of his approach Sally stopped her pacing and fixed him with
+a baleful glance out of eyes, four and five. Eyes, two and three were
+busy seeing if her coiffure was right and eyes one, six and seven were
+having their lids tweezed. After all, she had twelve pairs of legs
+which were also used for hands. A heck of a lot could be done with so
+many appendages.
+
+She started in even before he quite reached her side:
+
+"Where is everybody? Do I have to sit by myself every day? _Must_ you
+have your eyeballs massaged _everyday_? Where are the torturers? Where
+is everybody...?"
+
+"I think there's a picnic scheduled for today, dear," Hiah-Leugh said.
+
+"Why wasn't I told about it?" Sally demanded.
+
+She had very probably _been_ told about it but knowing his ninth
+concubine and the limits of her memory, she had very surely forgotten.
+
+"Hiah-Leugh!" she broke in on him before he could frame a reply. "I'm
+so terribly, terribly bored! There hasn't been a good torture since,
+since ... when _was_ the last time there was a torture party?"
+
+"The time Gin-Pad was caught stealing wokkerjabbies from his youngest
+child," Hiah-Leugh said. "We put him in the Pallid Pulley and
+stretched four of his legs until they were longer than the rest. And
+to this day Gin-Pad walks like he's looking for something between his
+forelegs...."
+
+Six of Sally's seven pairs of eyes crossed suddenly, a sign she was
+in thought. Hiah-Leugh had the wishful hope that the seventh pair
+would cross. When that happened Sally would be ex-concubine. She would
+also be ex-living but that didn't bother him. We all have to die
+sometime, he thought. But why does she have to live so long? The
+thought processes of Sally Patica wound their weary way and came to
+their proper end. Life was boresome. And she had to think of something
+to make it less so. She did.
+
+"Y'know, Hiah," she said as she uncrossed her eyes, "I have an
+idea...."
+
+The chief of all the Gomans rolled all eight pairs of his eyes
+ceiling-ward. Not another of her ideas. Oh no! Not that! The last time
+she had one of her ideas it was for a treasure hunt, a treasure hunt
+for a five-headed giant, despite Hiah-Leugh's insistence there were no
+such beings. But she wanted one dead or alive. She got it, dead. What
+Sally didn't know was that her mate gave orders to have one killed and
+have a fifth head sewn on his shoulders.
+
+Love, however, was as strong on planet XYZ268PDQ as it was on any
+other planet, and as burdensome, and though Hiah-Leugh felt his heart
+sink, he also knew he would give in to her wishes.
+
+"... What do you think of this; bring some humans up here and we'll
+run a torture party for our fiends?"
+
+The male's jaw dropped, all three feet of it. This was even worse than
+he had imagined. _Bring some humans up here_, she said. Had she any
+idea of what that entailed? No. _NOO!_
+
+He tried to reason with her:
+
+"Darling. Wait. Don't be hasty. Let me explain. In the first place
+have you ever met a human?"
+
+"What difference does that make?" she pouted. "I've heard about them."
+
+"But sweetheart," he went on in his pleading. "They're quite horrible.
+They have but one head, and a single pair of arms and legs. They walk
+upright and they can only bear _children_...."
+
+This was new to her.
+
+"... Children...?"
+
+"Yes! And they're horrible things, really. Must be raised on pablum
+and formulas and things like that. _Formulas._ Sounds mechanical. No,
+Sally, my pet. I'll think of something else. Something which will not
+require so much work...."
+
+It was the wrong thing to say. He knew it the instant he said it.
+
+"_Work!_" she yelped. "So that's what's troubling you. Too much work
+you say. And what is occupying your time now? Have you even so much as
+gone to the forest of Evil Contractions to capture a giant in the past
+six months? Not you! You're satisfied with the way things are. You
+wouldn't give a hang if I died of boredom. And when I ask for
+something like a torture party, all you can say is, it's too much
+work."
+
+She started to cry. And after all she had seven pairs of eyes to shed
+tears from. It was the biggest crying jag since the invasion from
+space a millenium before when the invaders used tear gas....
+
+Hiah-Leugh threw up all the arms he could spare and shouted:
+
+"Okay. _OKAY!_ I'll call a meeting of the Council and we'll plan
+something."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"The situation is this," Hiah-Leugh said in opening the meeting, "we
+must (get the) right to work and bring some humans up here."
+
+The assembled B. E. M's. stopped looking bored at the words. They had
+wondered why their chieftan had called the meeting. Now they knew. One
+after the other they repeated the words as if they couldn't believe
+their senses. Humans! Here on Planet XYZ268PDQ.
+
+"But mighty chief," one of them said in objection. "Do you realize
+what you're asking of us?"
+
+Another said:
+
+"How, when...?"
+
+And a third asked:
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Our scientists, that's who," Hiah-Leugh answered. "What the heck we
+got them for anyway? Seems all they do is sleep. Let them wake up and
+to work."
+
+But the oldest and wisest of them said:
+
+"Why can't we be normal monsters and not act like we're expected to?
+Isn't peace enough for us? Must we look for trouble?"
+
+But their chieftan knew there was no turning back. Not if he wanted
+peace. And knowing Sally Patica, he also knew there would be no peace
+for him until he brought some humans up for torture.
+
+"Let them construct space ships, terrible weapons of war, plagues and
+all the necessary adjuncts to planetary invasion. Let them prepare for
+the holocaust," Hiah-Leugh shouted, drowning out the others.
+
+But it was the youngest, a mere youth of ten thousand years, upon
+whose head but a single eye showed, who pointed out the path. He was
+already bored with this meeting; besides, he had but fallen in love
+the day before and wanted to get back to his amorata.
+
+"Why all this fuss?" he asked. "What's more, we don't have scientists,
+or mathematicians, or warriors. If the giants weren't so stupid we'd
+never capture them. So let's stop this foolishness, this dreaming...."
+
+That was the clue. After all, Hiah-Leugh hadn't been made chief of all
+the Gomans for nothing. He proved his right to the leadership then.
+
+"That's it!" he said. "The artists and writers of the human world have
+made monsters of us, even though we can't do any of the things they
+pretend we can. There is but a single attribute we possess which they
+have said we do. We can project ourselves through space and time. So
+let us to the Earth, and pluck one or two of these humans, and if I
+may offer a suggestion, let us take a writer and artist from among
+them and bring them back with us...."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Harry Zmilch, writer-extraordinary of science-fiction, passed weary
+fingers across a furrowed brow. A few feet to the rear of the desk at
+which Zmilch labored stood the drawing board of Jack Gangreneyellow,
+the artist. He too paused in his labors. At one and the same instant
+they turned and regarded each other with solemn, staring eyes.
+
+"No use, Joe," Harry said. "I can't do it. I've beaten my brain until
+it refuses to function. I keep typing the same word over and over
+again ... nuts ... nuts!... Bug-eyed monsters! There aren't such
+things. My imagination just can't bring them to paper."
+
+"Nor can mine to the board," Jack said.
+
+"Still it's easier for you," Harry said. "All you've got to do is draw
+a spider or huge bug of sorts, put a man and woman somewhere in the
+drawing, make the woman appear as if she'd lost half her clothes in a
+struggle, and you've got your piece. With me it's different."
+
+Gangreneyellow snorted. This character, he thought, knew as little of
+art and the difficulties of composition as the next guy.
+
+"That's what you think," he retorted. "All you guys have to do is
+_imagine_ a monster, have a man and woman placed in peril by the
+monster's presence and you've got a story. With us it's different...."
+
+Zmilch was half-turned, facing his friend across the width of one
+shoulder. At the other's words, Zmilch turned all the way, got up from
+his chair and strolled to the board on which a drawing in full color
+was in its last stages. The drawing depicted a jungle scene. In the
+foreground a man and woman stood in petrified stance, the man's arm
+around the woman's shoulders. He was dressed for safari, pith helmet,
+breeches, boots, open shirt and all. The woman looked like she'd spent
+all her life in the jungle. She wore a leopard skin draped becomingly
+to show the greater part of her charms. They were in semiprofile so
+that the artist could depict the terror on their faces. And full in
+the center of the drawing was an immense web stretched between the
+boles of two jungle giants. Descending the web was a gigantic bug, or
+spider, the artist had not detailed it too well.
+
+"I thought you said you were finding it hard to do?" Zmilch asked.
+"Why you've just about finished it."
+
+Gangreneyellow, not to be outdone by his friend, walked over to the
+other's desk and read aloud from the author's manuscript:
+
+"'... Tom Brighteyes knew he hadn't the smallest chance of escaping.
+The hordes of Micro Ambrosia were but a short way off. Ahead the Great
+Swamp blocked any chances of escape for him and the Leopard Girl.
+Their doom was sealed. He turned to her and said:
+
+"Leopard Girl, I love you. I know. I'm from another world, a world
+where men and women are not the same as this. Oh, I don't mean the
+outward man and woman, but the inward. This is a savage world, a world
+where both men and women have to struggle to exist against terrifying
+odds. Horrible beasts, terrible insects, and natural phenomena make
+this place a nightmare of existence. But here I found love and perhaps
+death. I am not sorry I came."
+
+"Tom Brighteyes," the girl turned to him and drew close. "I love you
+too. I think I felt love from the first instant I saw you, backed
+against a tree, with your puny weapons facing Hogo the Mogo, king of
+all the swampland. Hogo the Mogo used to eat guys like you for
+breakfast. Yet you drew a cigarette from a silver, enamel case upon
+whose shining face a small chaste crest revealed your excellent taste
+in such things, and while Hogo the Mogo slavered his hate in your
+face, you drew a king's size, Exhilirato from the case and lit it with
+a nonchalance that took my breath away...."
+
+"What the heck are you complaining about?" Gangreneyellow asked.
+"You're not doing so badly yourself."
+
+"Yeah," said a strange voice. "Neither of you are doing badly.
+Everything is just horrible, isn't it? The B. E. M's. march across
+your pages and drawing boards with assembly-line facility. But have
+either of you two had any feelings for us?"
+
+The two men turned startled and terrified faces in the direction of
+the mysterious voice. They could see nothing. Yet they could feel the
+impalpable presence of some strange being in this very room with them.
+Suddenly they became aware of a strange fog emanating from one wall.
+It swept closer drawing them into its greasy folds. The voice seemed
+to come from the very heart of this fog:
+
+"... Well, perhaps things will be different soon...?"
+
+Then the fog enveloped them completely, and their senses fled from
+them....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was an odd sort of voice, mellow, fluid, yet holding accents of
+anger in its even flow:
+
+"Both of you complained you couldn't imagine this. So we brought you
+here to prove its existence."
+
+The writer and artist opened their eyes and the fog in which they'd
+been bound was no longer there. They were in an immense chamber whose
+vaulted ceiling extended for a full hundred feet in the air and seemed
+suspended by slender strings, so tenuous were the web-like supports,
+so fragile were the arches. They were standing before a tremendous
+table whose semi-circular length might have been fifty feet from one
+end to the other. And seated at the table were the most horrifying
+monsters they had ever seen.
+
+There was one, a huge beetle-like thing with two heads and a scaly
+body and four pairs of pincers extending from the line of jaw. There
+was, another, somewhat like a spider, but with dozens of legs. A third
+was half-man, half alligator; a fourth was all snake, but with three
+human heads; and another was all head without body. They were, the two
+men realized, the most terrible _things_ they had ever imagined.
+
+"... And there is the rub," the voice went on. "We are all as you have
+imagined us. We exist only in your imagination."
+
+"But how can that be?" Harry Zmilch asked. "We are here. We can see
+you...."
+
+"Only because your imaginations have been developed to such a degree,"
+the voice replied. "Were you able to you would imagine us as something
+altogether different. But since there are limits to your imagination
+we are as we are. Now you must pay the penalty of that imagination.
+
+"Torture will be the price we will exact from you...."
+
+In an instant they were transported to the torture chamber. They saw
+the horrible machines, the Copper Conker, the Pallid Pulley, and the
+rest. And up on the platform they saw Sally Patica in all her glory,
+her seven pairs of eyes watering so great was her excitement.
+
+The monsters got in each other's way so hurried were they to tie and
+make fast the two humans to the torture machines. And despite Harry's
+and Jack's screams, they were bound, hand and foot and placed on each
+of the machines in turn. But though the machines whirled and clanked
+and ground and grunted and snarled their vicious ways the two humans
+could not feel a single thing. Yet all about them the horrible
+monsters screamed and shouted and laughed and danced and on the
+platform Sally Patica shrieked with joy.
+
+"A torture party at last," she screamed. "Oh, Hiah-Leugh, I'm so
+happy. I'm the happiest monster in the whole world."
+
+But down below, on the last of the machines in the assembly line,
+Harry Zmilch thought as he was being whirled around, his head always
+meeting a mace-like thing which was supposed to shear a slice from his
+head at every turn but which felt like a feather, gosh! If I get back
+alive what a story I could do on B. E. M's.
+
+While on another instrument of torture, the Pallid Pulley, a device
+supposed to tear the limbs slowly from a man, Jack Gangreneyellow
+thought, man! what a cover I could make if ever I get out of this.
+
+A strange thing happened then.
+
+The machines stopped their whirring, the monsters stopped their
+shriekings, and Jack and Harry stopped moving.
+
+"Ohh, you nasty humans," Hiah-Leugh said. "Now you've spoiled our
+party!"
+
+"Why?" Harry asked.
+
+"Because all this has been in vain. All you can see is that we're
+monsters. And as such we have no feelings except for the giving of
+pain, torture and death. Gosh, fellas! Can't you see these things
+aren't real? We're the nicest monsters."
+
+But all Harry and Jack could think of was that B. E. M's. were real.
+Further, they were as terrible as anything they had ever imagined.
+
+"Yes," Hiah-Leugh went on. "We are as you have imagined because we
+live only in your imagination. And there we live as monsters. If in
+the beginning you had given us other lines to read and other lives to
+live, things might be as they really are. But no. The human race had
+to be the master race. The insect world and the animal world could
+only provide danger and conflict." He turned to the assembled monsters
+and said, sadly, "Okay, boys. Turn 'em loose. Let them go back to
+their typewriters and drawing boards...."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Harry Zmilch shook his head savagely and looked at his friend. He was
+doing the same.
+
+"Got dizzy for a second," Harry said. "Gees! Have I got a swell ending
+for my story...."
+
+"Funny," Jack said. "I got dizzy too. And have I got a sweet idea for
+a monster. All detail...."
+
+Harry went back and typed:
+
+'But Tom Brighteyes was no longer listening to the voice of his
+beloved. Behind him were the advance guards of Hogo the Mogo. And
+ahead the dreaded swamp. There was but one thing to do, go into the
+sixth dimension, the fifth was already too perilous. Drawing the girl
+within the embrace of his brawny arms, he closed his eyes and sent out
+the powerful thought waves which would send him into the sixth
+dimension....'
+
+And at the end, he tacked on:
+
+To be continued next month....
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Death of a B.E.M., by Berkeley Livingston
+
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