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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/32819-h.zip b/32819-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cec6012 --- /dev/null +++ b/32819-h.zip diff --git a/32819-h/32819-h.htm b/32819-h/32819-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..86a9223 --- /dev/null +++ b/32819-h/32819-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1515 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Elegy, by Charles Beaumont. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Elegy, by Charles Beaumont + +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: Elegy + +Author: Charles Beaumont + +Release Date: June 14, 2010 [EBook #32819] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELEGY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<h1>ELEGY</h1> + +<h2>By Charles Beaumont</h2> + +<p>[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of +Science and Fantasy February 1953. Extensive research did not uncover +any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="sidenote">It was an impossible situation: an asteroid in space where no +asteroid should have been—with a city that could only have existed back +on Earth!</div> + + +<p>"Would you mind repeating that?"</p> + +<p>"I said, sir, that Mr. Friden said, sir, that he sees a city."</p> + +<p>"A city?"</p> + +<p>"Yes sir."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber rubbed the back of his hand along his cheek.</p> + +<p>"You realize, of course, that that is impossible?"</p> + +<p>"Yes sir."</p> + +<p>"Send Mr. Friden in to see me, at once."</p> + +<p>The young man saluted and rushed out of the room. He returned with a +somewhat older man who wore spectacles and frowned.</p> + +<p>"Now then," said Captain Webber, "what's all this Lieutenant Peterson +tells me about a city? Are you enjoying a private little joke, Friden?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Friden shook his head emphatically. "No sir."</p> + +<p>"Then perhaps you'd like to explain."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, you see, I was getting bored and just for something to do, I +thought I'd look through the screen—not that I dreamed of seeing +anything. The instruments weren't adjusted, either; but there was +something funny, something I couldn't make out exactly."</p> + +<p>"Go on," said Captain Webber, patiently.</p> + +<p>"So I fixed up the instruments and took another look, and there it was, +sir, plain as could be!"</p> + +<p>"There <i>what</i> was?"</p> + +<p>"The city, sir. Oh, I couldn't tell much about it, but there were +houses, all right, a lot of them."</p> + +<p>"Houses, you say?"</p> + +<p>"Yes sir, on an asteroid."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber looked for a long moment at Mr. Friden and began to pace +nervously.</p> + +<p>"I take it you know what this might mean?"</p> + +<p>"Yes sir, I do. That's why I wanted Lieutenant Peterson to tell you +about it."</p> + +<p>"I believe, Friden, that before we do any more talking I'll see this +city for myself."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Captain Webber, Lieutenant Peterson and Mr. Friden walked from the room +down a long corridor and into a smaller room. Captain Webber put his eye +to a circular glass and tapped his foot.</p> + +<p>He stepped back and rubbed his cheek again.</p> + +<p>"Well, you were right. That <i>is</i> a city—or else we've all gone crazy. +Do you think that we have?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, sir. It's not impossible."</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant, go ask Mr. Milton if he can land us on an asteroid. Give +him all the details and be back in ten minutes." Captain Webber sighed. +"Whatever it is," he said, "it will be a relief. Although I never made a +special announcement, I suppose you knew that we were lost."</p> + +<p>"Oh yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"And that we ran almost entirely out of fuel several months ago, in fact +shortly after we left?"</p> + +<p>"We knew that."</p> + +<p>The men were silent.</p> + +<p>"Sir, Mr. Milton says he thinks he can land us but he can't promise +exactly where."</p> + +<p>"Tell Mr. Milton that's good enough."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber waited for the young man to leave, then looked again into +the glass.</p> + +<p>"What do you make of it, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Not much, Friden, not much. It's a city and that's an asteroid; but how +the devil they got there is beyond me. I still haven't left the idea +that we're crazy, you know."</p> + +<p>Mr. Friden looked.</p> + +<p>"We're positioning to land. Strange—"</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"I can make things out a bit more clearly now, sir. Those are earth +houses."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber looked. He blinked.</p> + +<p>"Now, <i>that</i>," he said, "<i>is</i> impossible. Look here, we've been floating +about in space for—how long is it?"</p> + +<p>"Three months, sir."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. For three months we've been bobbling aimlessly, millions of +miles from earth. No hope, no hope whatever. And now we're landing in a +city just like the one we first left, or almost like it. Friden, I ask +you, does that make any sense at all?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir."</p> + +<p>"And does it seem logical that there should be an asteroid where no +asteroid should be?"</p> + +<p>"It does not."</p> + +<p>They stared at the glass, by turns.</p> + +<p>"Do you see that, Friden?"</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid so, sir."</p> + +<p>"A lake. A lake and a house by it and trees ... tell me, how many of us +are left?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Friden held up his right hand and began unbending fingers.</p> + +<p>"Yourself, sir, and myself; Lieutenant Peterson, Mr. Chitterwick, Mr. +Goeblin, Mr. Milton and...."</p> + +<p>"Great scott, out of thirty men?"</p> + +<p>"You know how it was, sir. That business with the Martians and then, our +own difficulties—"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Our own difficulties. Isn't it ironic, somehow, Friden? We band +together and fly away from war and, no sooner are we off the earth but +we begin other wars.... I've often felt that if Appleton hadn't been so +aggressive with that gun we would never have been kicked off Mars. And +why did we have to laugh at them? Oh, I'm afraid I haven't been a very +successful captain."</p> + +<p>"You're in a mood, sir."</p> + +<p>"Am I? I suppose I am. Look! There's a farm, an actual farm!"</p> + +<p>"Not really!"</p> + +<p>"Why, I haven't seen one for twenty years."</p> + +<p>The door flew open and Lieutenant Peterson came in, panting. "Mr. Milton +checked off every instruction, sir, and we're going down now."</p> + +<p>"He's sure there's enough fuel left for the brake?"</p> + +<p>"He thinks so, sir."</p> + +<p>"Lieutenant Peterson."</p> + +<p>"Yes sir?"</p> + +<p>"Come look into this glass, will you."</p> + +<p>The young man looked.</p> + +<p>"What do you see?"</p> + +<p>"A lot of strange creatures, sir. Are they dangerous? Should we prepare +our weapons?"</p> + +<p>"How old are you, Lieutenant?"</p> + +<p>"Nineteen, Captain Webber."</p> + +<p>"You have just seen a herd of cows, for the most part—" Captain Webber +squinted and twirled knobs "—Holsteins."</p> + +<p>"Holsteins, sir?"</p> + +<p>"You may go. Oh, you might tell the others to prepare for a crash +landing. Straps and all that."</p> + +<p>The young man smiled faintly and left.</p> + +<p>"I'm a little frightened, Friden; I think I'll go to my cabin. Take +charge and have them wait for my orders."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber saluted tiredly and walked back down the long corridor. +He paused as the machines suddenly roared more life, rubbed his cheek +and went into the small room.</p> + +<p>"Cows," said Captain Webber bracing himself.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The fiery leg fell into the cool air, heating it, causing it to smoke; +it burnt into the green grass and licked a craterous hole. There were +fireflags and firesparks, hisses and explosions and the weary groaning +sound of a great beast suddenly roused from sleep.</p> + +<p>The rocket landed. It grumbled and muttered for a while on its finny +tripod, then was silent; soon the heat vanished also.</p> + +<p>"Are you all right, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. The rest?"</p> + +<p>"All but Mr. Chitterwick. He broke his glasses and says he can't see."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber swung himself erect and tested his limbs. "Well then, +Lieutenant, has the atmosphere been checked?"</p> + +<p>"The air is pure and fit to breathe, sir."</p> + +<p>"Instruct the others to drop the ladder."</p> + +<p>"Yes sir."</p> + +<p>A door in the side of the rocket opened laboriously and men began +climbing out: "Look!" said Mr. Milton, pointing. "There are trees and +grass and—over there, little bridges going over the water."</p> + +<p>He pointed to a row of small white houses with green gardens and stony +paths.</p> + +<p>Beyond the trees was a brick lodge, extended over a rivulet which foamed +and bubbled. Fishing poles protruded from the lodge window.</p> + +<p>"And there, to the right!"</p> + +<p>A steel building thirty stories high with a pink cloud near the top. +And, separated by a hedge, a brown tent with a barbeque pit before it, +smoke rising in a rigid ribbon from the chimney.</p> + +<p>Mr. Chitterwick blinked and squinted his eyes. "What do you see?"</p> + +<p>Distant and near, houses of stone and brick and wood, painted all +colors, small, large; and further, golden fields of wheat, each blown by +a different breeze in a different direction.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe it," said Captain Webber. "It's a <i>park</i>—millions of +miles away from where a park could possibly be."</p> + +<p>"Strange but familiar," said Lieutenant Peterson, picking up a rock.</p> + +<p>Captain Webber looked in all directions. "We were lost. Then we see a +city where no city should be, on an asteroid not shown on any chart, and +we manage to land. And now we're in the middle of a place that belongs +in history-records. We may be crazy; we may all be wandering around in +space and dreaming."</p> + +<div class="figleft"> +<img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<p>The little man with the thin hair who had just stepped briskly from a +treeclump said, "Well, well," and the men jumped.</p> + +<p>The little man smiled. "Aren't you a trifle late or early or something?"</p> + +<p>Captain Webber turned and his mouth dropped open.</p> + +<p>"I hadn't been expecting you, gentlemen, to be perfectly honest," the +little man clucked, then: "Oh dear, see what you've done to Mr. +Bellefont's park. I do hope you haven't hurt him—no, I see that he is +all right."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber followed the direction of the man's eyes and perceived an +old man with red hair seated at the base of a tree, apparently reading a +book.</p> + +<p>"We are from Earth," said Captain Webber.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes."</p> + +<p>"Let me explain: my name is Webber, these are my men."</p> + +<p>"Of course," said the little man.</p> + +<p>Mr. Chitterwick came closer, blinking. "Who is this that knows our +language?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Who—Greypoole, Mr. Greypoole. Didn't <i>they</i> tell you?"</p> + +<p>"Then you are <i>also</i> from Earth?"</p> + +<p>"Heavens yes! But now, let us go where we can chat more comfortably." +Mr. Greypoole struck out down a small path past scorched trees and +underbrush. "You know, Captain, right after the last consignment +something happened to my calendar. Now, I'm competent at my job, but I'm +no technician, no indeed: besides, no doubt you or one of your men can +set the doodad right, eh? Here we are."</p> + +<p>They walked onto a wooden porch and through a door with a wire screen; +Lieutenant Peterson first, then Captain Webber, Mr. Friden and the rest +of the crew. Mr. Greypoole followed.</p> + +<p>"You must forgive me—it's been a while. Take chairs, there, there. Now, +what news of—home, shall I say?" The little man stared.</p> + +<p>Captain Webber shifted uncomfortably. He glanced around the room at the +lace curtains, the needle-point tapestries and the lavender wallpaper.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Greypoole, I'd like to ask some questions."</p> + +<p>"Certainly, certainly. But first, this being an occasion—" the little +man stared at each man carefully, then shook his head "—ah, do you all +like wine? Good wine?"</p> + +<p>He ducked through a small door.</p> + +<p>Captain Webber exhaled and rose.</p> + +<p>"Now, don't start talking all at once," he whispered. "Anyone have any +ideas? No? Then quick, scout around—Friden, you stay here; you others, +see what you can find. I'm not sure I like the looks of this."</p> + +<p>The men left the room.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mr. Chitterwick made his way along a hedgerow, feeling cautiously and +maintaining a delicate balance. When he came to a doorway he stopped, +squinted and entered.</p> + +<p>The room was dark and quiet and odorous. Mr. Chitterwick groped a few +steps, put out his hand and encountered what seemed to be raw flesh; he +swiftly withdrew his hand. "Excuse," he said, then, "Oh!" as his face +came against a slab of moist red meat. "Oh my!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Chitterwick began to tremble and he blinked furiously, reaching out +and finding flesh, cold and hard, unidentifiable.</p> + +<p>When he stepped upon the toe of a large man with a walrus mustache, he +wheeled, located the sunlight and ran from the butcher shop....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The door of the temple opened with difficulty, which caused Mr. Milton +to breathe unnaturally. Then, once inside, he gasped.</p> + +<p>Row upon row of people, their fingers outstretched, lips open but +immobile and silent, their bodies prostrate on the floor. And upon a +strange black altar, a tiny woman with silver hair and a long thyrsus in +her right hand.</p> + +<p>Nothing stirred but the mosaic squares in the walls. The colors danced +here; otherwise, everything was frozen, everything was solid.</p> + +<p>Even the air hung suspended, stationary.</p> + +<p>Mr. Milton left the temple....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>There was a table and a woman on the table and people all around the +woman on the table. Mr. Goeblin did not go a great distance from the +doorway: he rubbed his eyes and stared.</p> + +<p>It was an operating room. There were all the instruments, some old, most +old, and the masked men and women with shining scissors and glistening +saws in their hands. And up above, the students' aperture: filled seats, +filled aisles.</p> + +<p>Mr. Goeblin put his other hand about the doorknob.</p> + +<p>A large man stood over the recumbent figure, his lusterless eyes +regarding the crimson-puce incision, but he did not move. The nurses did +not move, or the students. No one moved, especially the smiling +middle-aged woman on the table.</p> + +<p>Mr. Goeblin moved....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Hello!" said Lieutenant Peterson, after he had searched through eight +long aisles of books, "Hello!"</p> + +<p>He pointed his gun menacingly.</p> + +<p>There were many books with many titles and they all had a fine grey dust +about them. Lieutenant Peterson paused to examine a bulky volume, when +he happened to look above him.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>The mottled, angular man perched atop the ladder did not respond. He +clutched a book and looked at the book and not at Lieutenant Peterson.</p> + +<p>"Come down—I want to talk with you!"</p> + +<p>The man on the ladder did nothing unusual: he remained precisely as he +had been.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Peterson climbed up the ladder, scowling; he reached the man +and jabbed with a finger.</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Peterson looked into the eyes of the reading man and +descended hastily and did not say goodbye....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole reentered the living room with a tray of glasses. "This is +apricot wine," he announced, distributing the glasses, "But—where are +the others? Out for a walk? Ah well, they can drink theirs later. +Incidentally, Captain, how many Guests did you bring? Last time it was +only twelve. Not an extraordinary shipment, either: they all preferred +the ordinary things. All but Mrs. Dominguez—dear me, she was worth the +carload herself. Wanted a zoo, can you imagine—a regular zoo, with her +put right in the bird-house. Oh, they had a time putting that one up!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole chuckled and sipped at his drink.</p> + +<p>"It's people like Mrs. Dominguez who put the—the life?—into Happy +Glades. Or do you find that disrespectful?"</p> + +<p>Captain Webber shook his head and tossed down his drink.</p> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole leaned back in his chair and crossed a leg. "Ah," he +continued, "you have no idea how good this is. Once in a while it does +get lonely for me here—no man is an island, or how does it go? Why, I +can remember when Mr. Waldmeyer first told me of this idea. 'A grave +responsibility,' he said, 'a <i>grave</i> responsibility.' Mr. Waldmeyer has +a keen sense of humor, needless to say."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber looked out the window. A small child on roller skates +stood still on the sidewalk. Mr. Greypoole laughed.</p> + +<p>"Finished your wine? Good. Explanations are in order, though first +perhaps you'd care to join me in a brief turn about the premises?"</p> + +<p>"Fine. Friden, you stay here and wait for the men." Captain Webber +winked a number of times and frowned briefly, then he and Mr. Greypoole +walked out onto the porch and down the steps.</p> + +<p>Mr. Friden drummed his fingers upon the arm of a chair, surveyed his +empty glass and hiccoughed softly.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"I do wish you'd landed your ship elsewhere, Captain. Mr. Bellefont was +quite particular and, as you can see, his park is hopelessly +disfigured."</p> + +<p>"We were given no choice, I'm afraid. The fuel was running out."</p> + +<p>"Indeed? Well then, that explains everything. A beautiful day, don't you +find, sir? Fortunately, with the exception of Professor Carling, all the +Guests preferred good weather. Plenty of sunshine, they said, or crisp +evening. It helps."</p> + +<p>They walked toward a house of colored rocks.</p> + +<p>"Miss Daphne Trilling's," said Mr. Greypoole, gesturing. "They threw it +up in a day, though it's solid enough."</p> + +<p>When they had passed an elderly woman on a bicycle, Captain Webber +stopped walking.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Greypoole, we've <i>got</i> to have a talk."</p> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole shrugged and pointed and they went into an office building +which was crowded with motionless men, women and children.</p> + +<p>"Since I'm so mixed up myself," the captain said, "maybe I'd better +ask—just who do you think <i>we</i> are?"</p> + +<p>"I'd thought you to be the men from the Glades of course."</p> + +<p>"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about. We're from +the planet Earth. They were going to have another war, the 'Last War' +they said, and we escaped in that rocket and started off for Mars. But +something went wrong—fellow named Appleton pulled a gun, others just +didn't like the Martians—we needn't go into it; they wouldn't have us +so Mars didn't work out. Something else went wrong then, soon we were +lost with only a little store of fuel and supplies. Then Mr. Friden +noticed this city or whatever it is and we had enough fuel to land so we +landed."</p> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole nodded his head slowly, somehow, sadder than before.</p> + +<p>"I see.... You say there was a war on Earth?"</p> + +<p>"They were going to set off X-Bomb; when they do, everything will go to +pieces. Or everything has already."</p> + +<p>"What dreadful news! May I inquire, Captain, when you have learned where +you are—what do you intend to do?"</p> + +<p>"Why, live here, of course!"</p> + +<p>"No, no—try to understand. You could not conceivably fit in here with +us."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber glanced at the motionless people. "Why not?" Then he +shouted, "What is this place? <i>Where am I?</i>"</p> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole smiled.</p> + +<p>"Captain, you are in a cemetery."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Good work, Peterson!"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, sir. When we all got back and Friden didn't know where you'd +gone, well, we got worried. Then we heard you shouting."</p> + +<p>"Hold his arms—there. You heard this, Friden?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Friden was trembling slightly. He brushed past a man with a van Dyke +beard and sat down on a leather stool. "Yes sir, I did. That is, I think +I did. What shall we do with him?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know, yet. Take him away, Lieutenant, for now. I want to think +a bit. We'll talk to Mr. Greypoole later on."</p> + +<p>Lieutenant Peterson pulled the smiling little man out into the street +and pointed a gun at him.</p> + +<p>Mr. Chitterwick blinked into the face of a small child.</p> + +<p>"Man's insane, I guess," said Mr. Milton, pacing.</p> + +<p>"Yes, but what about all <i>this</i>?" Mr. Goeblin looked horrified at the +stationary people.</p> + +<p>"I think I can tell you," Mr. Friden said. "Take a look, Captain."</p> + +<p>The men crowded about a pamphlet which Mr. Friden had placed on the +stool.</p> + +<p>Toward the top of the pamphlet and in the center of the first page was a +photograph, untinted and solemn; it depicted a white cherub delicately +poised on a granite slab. Beneath the photograph, were the words: HAPPY +GLADES.</p> + +<p>Captain Webber turned the pages and mumbled, glancing over his shoulder +every once in a while.</p> + +<p>"What is it, sir?" asked Mr. Chitterwick of a frozen man in a blue suit +with copper buttons.</p> + +<p>"It's one of those old level cemeteries!" cried Mr. Milton. "I remember +seeing pictures like it, sir."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber read aloud from the pamphlet.</p> + +<p>"For fifty years," he began, "an outstanding cultural and spiritual +asset to this community, HAPPY GLADES is proud to announce yet another +innovation in its program of post-benefits. NOW YOU CAN ENJOY THE +AFTER-LIFE IN SURROUNDINGS WHICH SUGGEST THE HERE-AND-NOW. Never before +in history has scientific advancement allowed such a plan."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber turned the page.</p> + +<p>"For those who prefer that their late departed have really <i>permanent, +eternal</i> happiness, for those who are dismayed by the fragility of all +things mortal, we of HAPPY GLADES are proud to offer:</p> + +<p>"1. The permanent duplication of physical conditions identical to those +enjoyed by the departed on Earth. Park, playground, lodge, office +building, hotel or house, etc., may be secured at varying prices. All +workmanship and materials specially attuned to conditions on ASTEROID +K<sub>7</sub> and guaranteed for PERMANENCE.</p> + +<p>"2. PERMANENT conditioning of late beloved so that, in the midst of +surroundings he favored, a genuine Eternity may be assured.</p> + +<p>"3. Full details on HAPPY GLADES' newest property, Asteroid K<sub>7</sub>, may be +found on page 4."</p> + +<p>The captain tossed the pamphlet to the floor and lit a cigarette. "Did +anyone happen to notice the date?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Milton said, "It doesn't make any sense! There haven't been +cemeteries for ages. And even if this were true, why should anyone want +to go all the way through space to a little asteroid? They might just as +well have built these things on Earth."</p> + +<p>"Who would want all this when they're dead, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"You mean all these people are dead?"</p> + +<p>For a few moments there was complete and utter silence in the lobby of +the building.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"Are those things true, that we read in your booklet?" asked Captain +Webber after Lieutenant Peterson had brought in the prisoner.</p> + +<p>"Every word," said the little man bowing slightly, "is monumentally +correct."</p> + +<p>"Then we want you to begin explaining."</p> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole tushed and proceeded to straighten the coat of a +middle-aged man with a cigar.</p> + +<p>Mr. Goeblin shuddered.</p> + +<p>"No, no," laughed Mr. Greypoole, "<i>these</i> are only imitations. Mr. +Conklin upstairs was head of a large firm; absolutely in love with his +work, you know—that kind of thing. So we had to duplicate not only the +office, but the building and even replicas of all the people in the +building. Mr. Conklin himself is in an easy chair on the twentieth +story."</p> + +<p>"<i>And?</i>"</p> + +<p>"Well, gentlemen, as you know, Happy Glades is the outstanding mortuary +on Earth. And, to put it briefly, with the constant explorations of +planets and moons and whatnot, our Mr. Waldmeyer hit upon this scheme: +Seeking to extend the ideal hereafter to our Guests, we bought out this +little asteroid. With the vast volume and the tremendous turnover, as it +were, we got our staff of scientists together and they offered this +plan—to duplicate the exact surroundings which the Guest most enjoyed +in Life, assure him privacy, permanence (a <i>very</i> big point, as you can +see), and all the small things not possible on Earth."</p> + +<p>"Why here, why cart off a million miles or more when the same thing +could have been done on Earth?"</p> + +<p>"My communication system went bad, I fear, so I haven't heard from the +offices in some while—but, I am to understand there is a war beginning? +<i>That</i> is the idea, Captain; one could never really be sure of one's +self down there, what with all the new bombs and things being +discovered."</p> + +<p>"Hmm," said Captain Webber.</p> + +<p>"Then too, Mr. Waldmeyer worried about those new societies with their +dreadful ideas about cremation—you can see what that sort of thing +could do to the undertaking business? His plan caught on, however, and +soon we were having to turn away Guests."</p> + +<p>"And where do you fit in, Mr. Greypoole?"</p> + +<p>The little man seemed to blush; he lowered his eyes. "I was head +caretaker, you see. But I wasn't well—gastric complaints, liver, heart +palpitations, this and that; so, I decided to allow them to ... <i>change</i> +me. They turned all manner of machines on my body and pumped me full of +fluids and by the time I got here, why, I was almost, you might say, a +machine myself! Fortunately, though, they left a good deal of Greypoole. +All I know is that whenever the film is punctured, I wake and become a +machine, do my prescribed duties in a complex way and—"</p> + +<p>"The film?"</p> + +<p>"The covering that seals in the conditioning. Nothing can get out, +nothing get in—except things like rockets. Then, it's self-sealing, +needless to say. But to get on, Captain. With all the technical +advancements, it soon got to where there was no real work to be done +here; they threw up the film and coated us with their preservative or, +as they put it, Eternifier, and—well, with the exception of my calendar +and the communications system, everything's worked perfectly, including +myself."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>No one said anything for a while. Then Captain Webber said, with great +slowness, "You're lying. This is all a crazy, hideous plot." The little +man chuckled at the word plot.</p> + +<p>"In the first place, no cemetery or form of cemetery has existed on +Earth for—how long, Friden?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Friden stared at his fingers. "Years and years."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. There are communal furnaces now."</p> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole winced.</p> + +<p>"And furthermore," continued the captain, "this whole concept is +ridiculous."</p> + +<p>Mr. Chitterwick threw down the pamphlet and began to tremble. "We should +have stayed home," he remarked to a young woman who did not answer.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Greypoole," Webber said, "I think that you know more than you're +saying. You didn't seem very surprised when you learned we weren't the +men you expected; you don't seem very surprised now that I tell you that +your 'Happy Glades' and all the people connected with it have been dead +for ages. So, why the display of interest in our explanations, why—"</p> + +<p>The faint murmur, "A good machine checks and double checks," could be +heard from Mr. Greypoole, who otherwise said nothing.</p> + +<p>"I speak for my men: we're confused, terribly confused. But whatever +this is, we're stuck, can't you see? All we want is a place to begin +again—" Captain Webber paused, looked at the others and went on in a +softer tone. "We're tired men, Mr. Greypoole; we're poorly equipped, but +we do have weapons and if this is some hypnotic kind of trap...."</p> + +<p>The little man waved his hand, offendedly.</p> + +<p>"There are lakes and farms and all we need to make a new start—more +than we'd hoped for, much more."</p> + +<p>"What <i>had</i> you hoped for, Captain?"</p> + +<p>"Something. Nothing. Just escape—"</p> + +<p>"But I see no women—how could you begin again, as you suggest?"</p> + +<p>"Women? Too weak; they would not have lasted. We brought along eggs and +machines—enough for our needs."</p> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole clucked his tongue. "Mr. Waldmeyer certainly did look +ahead," he muttered, "he certainly <i>did</i>."</p> + +<p>"Will we be honest now? Will you help us?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Captain, I will help you. Let us go back to your rocket." Mr. +Greypoole smiled. "Things will be better there."</p> + +<p>Captain Webber signaled. They left the building and walked by the foot +of a white mountain.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They passed a garden with little spotted trees and flowers, a brown +desert of shifting sands and a striped tent; they walked by strawberry +fields and airplane hangars and coal mines; tiny yellow cottages, +cramped apartments, fluted houses and Tudor houses and houses without +description....</p> + +<p>Past rock pools and a great zoo full of animals that stared out of +vacant eyes; and everywhere, the seasons changing gently: crisp autumn, +cottony summer, windy spring and winters cool and white....</p> + +<p>The six men in uniforms followed the little man with the thin hair. They +did not speak as they walked, but looked around, stared, craned, +wondered....</p> + +<p>And the old, young, middle-aged, white, brown, yellow people who did not +move wondered back at the men with their eyes....</p> + +<p>"You see, Captain, the success of Mr. Waldmeyer's plan?"</p> + +<p>Captain Webber rubbed his cheek.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand," he said.</p> + +<p>"But you do see, all of you, the perfection here, the quality of Eternal +Happiness which the circular speaks of?"</p> + +<p>"Yes ... we see that."</p> + +<p>"Here we have happiness and brotherhood, here there have never been wars +or hatreds or prejudices. And now you who were many and left Earth to +escape war and hatred, who were many by your own word and are now only +six, you want to begin life <i>here</i>?"</p> + +<p>Cross-breezes ruffled the men's hair.</p> + +<p>"To <i>begin</i>, when from the moment of your departure you had wars of your +own, and killed, and hurled mocking prejudice against a race of people +not like you, a race who rejected and cast you out into space again! +From your own account! No gentlemen, I am truly sorry. It may be that I +misjudged those of you who are left, or rather, that Happy Glades +misjudged you. You may mean well, after all—and, of course, the +location of this asteroid was so planned by the Board as to be uncharted +forever. But—oh, I am sorry." Mr. Greypoole sighed.</p> + +<p>"What does he mean by that?" asked Mr. Friden and Lieutenant Peterson.</p> + +<p>Captain Webber was gazing at a herd of cows in the distance.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, you're 'sorry'?" demanded Mr. Friden.</p> + +<p>"Well...."</p> + +<p>"Captain Webber!" cried Mr. Chitterwick, blinking.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes?"</p> + +<p>"I feel queer."</p> + +<p>Mr. Goeblin clutched at his stomach.</p> + +<p>"So do I!"</p> + +<p>"And me!"</p> + +<p>Captain Webber looked back at the fields, then at Mr. Greypoole. His +mouth twitched in sudden pain.</p> + +<p>"We feel awful, Captain!"</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, gentlemen. Follow me to your ship, quickly." Mr. Greypoole +motioned curiously with his hands and began to step briskly.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>They circled a small pond where a motionless boy strained toe-high on an +extended board. And the day once again turned to night as they hurried +past a shadowed cathedral.</p> + +<p>When they were in sight of the scorched trees, Mr. Milton doubled up and +screamed.</p> + +<p>"Captain!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Goeblin struck his forehead. "I told you, I told you we shouldn't +have drunk that wine! Didn't I tell you?"</p> + +<p>"It was the wine—and we all drank it. <i>He</i> did it, <i>he</i> poisoned us!"</p> + +<p>"Follow me!" cried Mr. Greypoole, making a hurried gesture and breaking +into a run. "Faster!"</p> + +<p>They stumbled hypnotically through the park, over the Mandarin-bridges +to the rock.</p> + +<p>"Tell them, Captain, tell them to climb the ladder."</p> + +<p>"Go on up, men."</p> + +<p>"But we're poisoned, sir!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Hurry!</i> There's—an antidote in the ship."</p> + +<p>The crew climbed into the ship.</p> + +<p>"Captain," invited Mr. Greypoole.</p> + +<p>Captain Webber ascended jerkily. When he reached the open lock, he +turned. His eyes swept over the hills and fields and mountains, over the +rivers and houses and still people. He coughed and pulled himself into +the rocket.</p> + +<p>Mr. Greypoole followed.</p> + +<p>"You don't dislike this ship, do you—that is, the surroundings are not +offensive?"</p> + +<p>"No; we don't dislike the ship."</p> + +<p>"I am glad of that—if <i>only</i> I had been allowed more latitude! But +everything functions so well here; no real choice in the matter, +actually. No more than the Sealing Film. And they <i>would</i> leave me with +these human emotions! I see, of course, why the communications system +doesn't work, why my calendar is out of commission. Kind of Mr. +Waldmeyer to arrange for them to stop when his worst fears finally +materialized. Are the men all seated? No, no, they mustn't writhe about +the floor like that. Get them to their stations—no, to the stations +they would most prefer. And hurry!"</p> + +<p>Captain Webber ordered Mr. Chitterwick to the galley, Mr. Goeblin to the +engineering chair, Mr. Friden to the navigator's room....</p> + +<p>"Sir, what's going to happen? <i>Where's the antidote?</i>"</p> + +<p>Mr. Milton to the pilot's chair....</p> + +<p>"The pain will last only another moment or so—it's unfortunately part +of the Eternifier," said Mr. Greypoole. "There, all in order? Good, +good. Now, Captain, I see understanding in your face; that pleases me +more than I can say. My position is so difficult! But you can see, when +a machine is geared to its job—which is to retain permanence on HAPPY +GLADES—well, a machine is a machine. Where shall we put <i>you</i>?"</p> + +<p>Captain Webber leaned on the arm of the little man and walked to the +open lock.</p> + +<p>"You <i>do</i> understand?" asked Mr. Greypoole.</p> + +<p>Captain Webber's head nodded halfway down, then stopped; and his eyes +froze forever upon the City.</p> + +<p>"A pity...."</p> + +<p>The little man with the thin hair walked about the cabins and rooms, +straightening, dusting; he climbed down the ladder, shook his head and +started down the path to the wooden house.</p> + +<p>When he had washed all the empty glasses and replaced them, he sat down +in the large leather chair and adjusted himself into the most +comfortable position.</p> + +<p>His eyes stared in waxen contentment at the homely interior, with its +lavender wallpaper, needle-point tapestries and tidy arrangement.</p> + +<p>He did not move.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Elegy, by Charles Beaumont + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELEGY *** + +***** This file should be named 32819-h.htm or 32819-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/8/1/32819/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Elegy + +Author: Charles Beaumont + +Release Date: June 14, 2010 [EBook #32819] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELEGY *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + ELEGY + + By Charles Beaumont + +[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of +Science and Fantasy February 1953. Extensive research did not uncover +any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Sidenote: It was an impossible situation: an asteroid in space where no +asteroid should have been--with a city that could only have existed back +on Earth!] + + +"Would you mind repeating that?" + +"I said, sir, that Mr. Friden said, sir, that he sees a city." + +"A city?" + +"Yes sir." + +Captain Webber rubbed the back of his hand along his cheek. + +"You realize, of course, that that is impossible?" + +"Yes sir." + +"Send Mr. Friden in to see me, at once." + +The young man saluted and rushed out of the room. He returned with a +somewhat older man who wore spectacles and frowned. + +"Now then," said Captain Webber, "what's all this Lieutenant Peterson +tells me about a city? Are you enjoying a private little joke, Friden?" + +Mr. Friden shook his head emphatically. "No sir." + +"Then perhaps you'd like to explain." + +"Well, sir, you see, I was getting bored and just for something to do, I +thought I'd look through the screen--not that I dreamed of seeing +anything. The instruments weren't adjusted, either; but there was +something funny, something I couldn't make out exactly." + +"Go on," said Captain Webber, patiently. + +"So I fixed up the instruments and took another look, and there it was, +sir, plain as could be!" + +"There _what_ was?" + +"The city, sir. Oh, I couldn't tell much about it, but there were +houses, all right, a lot of them." + +"Houses, you say?" + +"Yes sir, on an asteroid." + +Captain Webber looked for a long moment at Mr. Friden and began to pace +nervously. + +"I take it you know what this might mean?" + +"Yes sir, I do. That's why I wanted Lieutenant Peterson to tell you +about it." + +"I believe, Friden, that before we do any more talking I'll see this +city for myself." + + * * * * * + +Captain Webber, Lieutenant Peterson and Mr. Friden walked from the room +down a long corridor and into a smaller room. Captain Webber put his eye +to a circular glass and tapped his foot. + +He stepped back and rubbed his cheek again. + +"Well, you were right. That _is_ a city--or else we've all gone crazy. +Do you think that we have?" + +"I don't know, sir. It's not impossible." + +"Lieutenant, go ask Mr. Milton if he can land us on an asteroid. Give +him all the details and be back in ten minutes." Captain Webber sighed. +"Whatever it is," he said, "it will be a relief. Although I never made a +special announcement, I suppose you knew that we were lost." + +"Oh yes, sir." + +"And that we ran almost entirely out of fuel several months ago, in fact +shortly after we left?" + +"We knew that." + +The men were silent. + +"Sir, Mr. Milton says he thinks he can land us but he can't promise +exactly where." + +"Tell Mr. Milton that's good enough." + +Captain Webber waited for the young man to leave, then looked again into +the glass. + +"What do you make of it, sir?" + +"Not much, Friden, not much. It's a city and that's an asteroid; but how +the devil they got there is beyond me. I still haven't left the idea +that we're crazy, you know." + +Mr. Friden looked. + +"We're positioning to land. Strange--" + +"What is it?" + +"I can make things out a bit more clearly now, sir. Those are earth +houses." + +Captain Webber looked. He blinked. + +"Now, _that_," he said, "_is_ impossible. Look here, we've been floating +about in space for--how long is it?" + +"Three months, sir." + +"Exactly. For three months we've been bobbling aimlessly, millions of +miles from earth. No hope, no hope whatever. And now we're landing in a +city just like the one we first left, or almost like it. Friden, I ask +you, does that make any sense at all?" + +"No, sir." + +"And does it seem logical that there should be an asteroid where no +asteroid should be?" + +"It does not." + +They stared at the glass, by turns. + +"Do you see that, Friden?" + +"I'm afraid so, sir." + +"A lake. A lake and a house by it and trees ... tell me, how many of us +are left?" + +Mr. Friden held up his right hand and began unbending fingers. + +"Yourself, sir, and myself; Lieutenant Peterson, Mr. Chitterwick, Mr. +Goeblin, Mr. Milton and...." + +"Great scott, out of thirty men?" + +"You know how it was, sir. That business with the Martians and then, our +own difficulties--" + +"Yes. Our own difficulties. Isn't it ironic, somehow, Friden? We band +together and fly away from war and, no sooner are we off the earth but +we begin other wars.... I've often felt that if Appleton hadn't been so +aggressive with that gun we would never have been kicked off Mars. And +why did we have to laugh at them? Oh, I'm afraid I haven't been a very +successful captain." + +"You're in a mood, sir." + +"Am I? I suppose I am. Look! There's a farm, an actual farm!" + +"Not really!" + +"Why, I haven't seen one for twenty years." + +The door flew open and Lieutenant Peterson came in, panting. "Mr. Milton +checked off every instruction, sir, and we're going down now." + +"He's sure there's enough fuel left for the brake?" + +"He thinks so, sir." + +"Lieutenant Peterson." + +"Yes sir?" + +"Come look into this glass, will you." + +The young man looked. + +"What do you see?" + +"A lot of strange creatures, sir. Are they dangerous? Should we prepare +our weapons?" + +"How old are you, Lieutenant?" + +"Nineteen, Captain Webber." + +"You have just seen a herd of cows, for the most part--" Captain Webber +squinted and twirled knobs "--Holsteins." + +"Holsteins, sir?" + +"You may go. Oh, you might tell the others to prepare for a crash +landing. Straps and all that." + +The young man smiled faintly and left. + +"I'm a little frightened, Friden; I think I'll go to my cabin. Take +charge and have them wait for my orders." + +Captain Webber saluted tiredly and walked back down the long corridor. +He paused as the machines suddenly roared more life, rubbed his cheek +and went into the small room. + +"Cows," said Captain Webber bracing himself. + + * * * * * + +The fiery leg fell into the cool air, heating it, causing it to smoke; +it burnt into the green grass and licked a craterous hole. There were +fireflags and firesparks, hisses and explosions and the weary groaning +sound of a great beast suddenly roused from sleep. + +The rocket landed. It grumbled and muttered for a while on its finny +tripod, then was silent; soon the heat vanished also. + +"Are you all right, sir?" + +"Yes. The rest?" + +"All but Mr. Chitterwick. He broke his glasses and says he can't see." + +Captain Webber swung himself erect and tested his limbs. "Well then, +Lieutenant, has the atmosphere been checked?" + +"The air is pure and fit to breathe, sir." + +"Instruct the others to drop the ladder." + +"Yes sir." + +A door in the side of the rocket opened laboriously and men began +climbing out: "Look!" said Mr. Milton, pointing. "There are trees and +grass and--over there, little bridges going over the water." + +He pointed to a row of small white houses with green gardens and stony +paths. + +Beyond the trees was a brick lodge, extended over a rivulet which foamed +and bubbled. Fishing poles protruded from the lodge window. + +"And there, to the right!" + +A steel building thirty stories high with a pink cloud near the top. +And, separated by a hedge, a brown tent with a barbeque pit before it, +smoke rising in a rigid ribbon from the chimney. + +Mr. Chitterwick blinked and squinted his eyes. "What do you see?" + +Distant and near, houses of stone and brick and wood, painted all +colors, small, large; and further, golden fields of wheat, each blown by +a different breeze in a different direction. + +"I don't believe it," said Captain Webber. "It's a _park_--millions of +miles away from where a park could possibly be." + +"Strange but familiar," said Lieutenant Peterson, picking up a rock. + +Captain Webber looked in all directions. "We were lost. Then we see a +city where no city should be, on an asteroid not shown on any chart, and +we manage to land. And now we're in the middle of a place that belongs +in history-records. We may be crazy; we may all be wandering around in +space and dreaming." + +The little man with the thin hair who had just stepped briskly from a +treeclump said, "Well, well," and the men jumped. + +[Illustration] + +The little man smiled. "Aren't you a trifle late or early or something?" + +Captain Webber turned and his mouth dropped open. + +"I hadn't been expecting you, gentlemen, to be perfectly honest," the +little man clucked, then: "Oh dear, see what you've done to Mr. +Bellefont's park. I do hope you haven't hurt him--no, I see that he is +all right." + +Captain Webber followed the direction of the man's eyes and perceived an +old man with red hair seated at the base of a tree, apparently reading a +book. + +"We are from Earth," said Captain Webber. + +"Yes, yes." + +"Let me explain: my name is Webber, these are my men." + +"Of course," said the little man. + +Mr. Chitterwick came closer, blinking. "Who is this that knows our +language?" he asked. + +"Who--Greypoole, Mr. Greypoole. Didn't _they_ tell you?" + +"Then you are _also_ from Earth?" + +"Heavens yes! But now, let us go where we can chat more comfortably." +Mr. Greypoole struck out down a small path past scorched trees and +underbrush. "You know, Captain, right after the last consignment +something happened to my calendar. Now, I'm competent at my job, but I'm +no technician, no indeed: besides, no doubt you or one of your men can +set the doodad right, eh? Here we are." + +They walked onto a wooden porch and through a door with a wire screen; +Lieutenant Peterson first, then Captain Webber, Mr. Friden and the rest +of the crew. Mr. Greypoole followed. + +"You must forgive me--it's been a while. Take chairs, there, there. Now, +what news of--home, shall I say?" The little man stared. + +Captain Webber shifted uncomfortably. He glanced around the room at the +lace curtains, the needle-point tapestries and the lavender wallpaper. + +"Mr. Greypoole, I'd like to ask some questions." + +"Certainly, certainly. But first, this being an occasion--" the little +man stared at each man carefully, then shook his head "--ah, do you all +like wine? Good wine?" + +He ducked through a small door. + +Captain Webber exhaled and rose. + +"Now, don't start talking all at once," he whispered. "Anyone have any +ideas? No? Then quick, scout around--Friden, you stay here; you others, +see what you can find. I'm not sure I like the looks of this." + +The men left the room. + + * * * * * + +Mr. Chitterwick made his way along a hedgerow, feeling cautiously and +maintaining a delicate balance. When he came to a doorway he stopped, +squinted and entered. + +The room was dark and quiet and odorous. Mr. Chitterwick groped a few +steps, put out his hand and encountered what seemed to be raw flesh; he +swiftly withdrew his hand. "Excuse," he said, then, "Oh!" as his face +came against a slab of moist red meat. "Oh my!" + +Mr. Chitterwick began to tremble and he blinked furiously, reaching out +and finding flesh, cold and hard, unidentifiable. + +When he stepped upon the toe of a large man with a walrus mustache, he +wheeled, located the sunlight and ran from the butcher shop.... + + * * * * * + +The door of the temple opened with difficulty, which caused Mr. Milton +to breathe unnaturally. Then, once inside, he gasped. + +Row upon row of people, their fingers outstretched, lips open but +immobile and silent, their bodies prostrate on the floor. And upon a +strange black altar, a tiny woman with silver hair and a long thyrsus in +her right hand. + +Nothing stirred but the mosaic squares in the walls. The colors danced +here; otherwise, everything was frozen, everything was solid. + +Even the air hung suspended, stationary. + +Mr. Milton left the temple.... + + * * * * * + +There was a table and a woman on the table and people all around the +woman on the table. Mr. Goeblin did not go a great distance from the +doorway: he rubbed his eyes and stared. + +It was an operating room. There were all the instruments, some old, most +old, and the masked men and women with shining scissors and glistening +saws in their hands. And up above, the students' aperture: filled seats, +filled aisles. + +Mr. Goeblin put his other hand about the doorknob. + +A large man stood over the recumbent figure, his lusterless eyes +regarding the crimson-puce incision, but he did not move. The nurses did +not move, or the students. No one moved, especially the smiling +middle-aged woman on the table. + +Mr. Goeblin moved.... + + * * * * * + +"Hello!" said Lieutenant Peterson, after he had searched through eight +long aisles of books, "Hello!" + +He pointed his gun menacingly. + +There were many books with many titles and they all had a fine grey dust +about them. Lieutenant Peterson paused to examine a bulky volume, when +he happened to look above him. + +"Who are you?" he demanded. + +The mottled, angular man perched atop the ladder did not respond. He +clutched a book and looked at the book and not at Lieutenant Peterson. + +"Come down--I want to talk with you!" + +The man on the ladder did nothing unusual: he remained precisely as he +had been. + +Lieutenant Peterson climbed up the ladder, scowling; he reached the man +and jabbed with a finger. + +Lieutenant Peterson looked into the eyes of the reading man and +descended hastily and did not say goodbye.... + + * * * * * + +Mr. Greypoole reentered the living room with a tray of glasses. "This is +apricot wine," he announced, distributing the glasses, "But--where are +the others? Out for a walk? Ah well, they can drink theirs later. +Incidentally, Captain, how many Guests did you bring? Last time it was +only twelve. Not an extraordinary shipment, either: they all preferred +the ordinary things. All but Mrs. Dominguez--dear me, she was worth the +carload herself. Wanted a zoo, can you imagine--a regular zoo, with her +put right in the bird-house. Oh, they had a time putting that one up!" + +Mr. Greypoole chuckled and sipped at his drink. + +"It's people like Mrs. Dominguez who put the--the life?--into Happy +Glades. Or do you find that disrespectful?" + +Captain Webber shook his head and tossed down his drink. + +Mr. Greypoole leaned back in his chair and crossed a leg. "Ah," he +continued, "you have no idea how good this is. Once in a while it does +get lonely for me here--no man is an island, or how does it go? Why, I +can remember when Mr. Waldmeyer first told me of this idea. 'A grave +responsibility,' he said, 'a _grave_ responsibility.' Mr. Waldmeyer has +a keen sense of humor, needless to say." + +Captain Webber looked out the window. A small child on roller skates +stood still on the sidewalk. Mr. Greypoole laughed. + +"Finished your wine? Good. Explanations are in order, though first +perhaps you'd care to join me in a brief turn about the premises?" + +"Fine. Friden, you stay here and wait for the men." Captain Webber +winked a number of times and frowned briefly, then he and Mr. Greypoole +walked out onto the porch and down the steps. + +Mr. Friden drummed his fingers upon the arm of a chair, surveyed his +empty glass and hiccoughed softly. + + * * * * * + +"I do wish you'd landed your ship elsewhere, Captain. Mr. Bellefont was +quite particular and, as you can see, his park is hopelessly +disfigured." + +"We were given no choice, I'm afraid. The fuel was running out." + +"Indeed? Well then, that explains everything. A beautiful day, don't you +find, sir? Fortunately, with the exception of Professor Carling, all the +Guests preferred good weather. Plenty of sunshine, they said, or crisp +evening. It helps." + +They walked toward a house of colored rocks. + +"Miss Daphne Trilling's," said Mr. Greypoole, gesturing. "They threw it +up in a day, though it's solid enough." + +When they had passed an elderly woman on a bicycle, Captain Webber +stopped walking. + +"Mr. Greypoole, we've _got_ to have a talk." + +Mr. Greypoole shrugged and pointed and they went into an office building +which was crowded with motionless men, women and children. + +"Since I'm so mixed up myself," the captain said, "maybe I'd better +ask--just who do you think _we_ are?" + +"I'd thought you to be the men from the Glades of course." + +"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about. We're from +the planet Earth. They were going to have another war, the 'Last War' +they said, and we escaped in that rocket and started off for Mars. But +something went wrong--fellow named Appleton pulled a gun, others just +didn't like the Martians--we needn't go into it; they wouldn't have us +so Mars didn't work out. Something else went wrong then, soon we were +lost with only a little store of fuel and supplies. Then Mr. Friden +noticed this city or whatever it is and we had enough fuel to land so we +landed." + +Mr. Greypoole nodded his head slowly, somehow, sadder than before. + +"I see.... You say there was a war on Earth?" + +"They were going to set off X-Bomb; when they do, everything will go to +pieces. Or everything has already." + +"What dreadful news! May I inquire, Captain, when you have learned where +you are--what do you intend to do?" + +"Why, live here, of course!" + +"No, no--try to understand. You could not conceivably fit in here with +us." + +Captain Webber glanced at the motionless people. "Why not?" Then he +shouted, "What is this place? _Where am I?_" + +Mr. Greypoole smiled. + +"Captain, you are in a cemetery." + + * * * * * + +"Good work, Peterson!" + +"Thanks, sir. When we all got back and Friden didn't know where you'd +gone, well, we got worried. Then we heard you shouting." + +"Hold his arms--there. You heard this, Friden?" + +Mr. Friden was trembling slightly. He brushed past a man with a van Dyke +beard and sat down on a leather stool. "Yes sir, I did. That is, I think +I did. What shall we do with him?" + +"I don't know, yet. Take him away, Lieutenant, for now. I want to think +a bit. We'll talk to Mr. Greypoole later on." + +Lieutenant Peterson pulled the smiling little man out into the street +and pointed a gun at him. + +Mr. Chitterwick blinked into the face of a small child. + +"Man's insane, I guess," said Mr. Milton, pacing. + +"Yes, but what about all _this_?" Mr. Goeblin looked horrified at the +stationary people. + +"I think I can tell you," Mr. Friden said. "Take a look, Captain." + +The men crowded about a pamphlet which Mr. Friden had placed on the +stool. + +Toward the top of the pamphlet and in the center of the first page was a +photograph, untinted and solemn; it depicted a white cherub delicately +poised on a granite slab. Beneath the photograph, were the words: HAPPY +GLADES. + +Captain Webber turned the pages and mumbled, glancing over his shoulder +every once in a while. + +"What is it, sir?" asked Mr. Chitterwick of a frozen man in a blue suit +with copper buttons. + +"It's one of those old level cemeteries!" cried Mr. Milton. "I remember +seeing pictures like it, sir." + +Captain Webber read aloud from the pamphlet. + +"For fifty years," he began, "an outstanding cultural and spiritual +asset to this community, HAPPY GLADES is proud to announce yet another +innovation in its program of post-benefits. NOW YOU CAN ENJOY THE +AFTER-LIFE IN SURROUNDINGS WHICH SUGGEST THE HERE-AND-NOW. Never before +in history has scientific advancement allowed such a plan." + +Captain Webber turned the page. + +"For those who prefer that their late departed have really _permanent, +eternal_ happiness, for those who are dismayed by the fragility of all +things mortal, we of HAPPY GLADES are proud to offer: + +"1. The permanent duplication of physical conditions identical to those +enjoyed by the departed on Earth. Park, playground, lodge, office +building, hotel or house, etc., may be secured at varying prices. All +workmanship and materials specially attuned to conditions on ASTEROID +K_{7} and guaranteed for PERMANENCE. + +"2. PERMANENT conditioning of late beloved so that, in the midst of +surroundings he favored, a genuine Eternity may be assured. + +"3. Full details on HAPPY GLADES' newest property, Asteroid K_{7}, may be +found on page 4." + +The captain tossed the pamphlet to the floor and lit a cigarette. "Did +anyone happen to notice the date?" + +Mr. Milton said, "It doesn't make any sense! There haven't been +cemeteries for ages. And even if this were true, why should anyone want +to go all the way through space to a little asteroid? They might just as +well have built these things on Earth." + +"Who would want all this when they're dead, anyway?" + +"You mean all these people are dead?" + +For a few moments there was complete and utter silence in the lobby of +the building. + + * * * * * + +"Are those things true, that we read in your booklet?" asked Captain +Webber after Lieutenant Peterson had brought in the prisoner. + +"Every word," said the little man bowing slightly, "is monumentally +correct." + +"Then we want you to begin explaining." + +Mr. Greypoole tushed and proceeded to straighten the coat of a +middle-aged man with a cigar. + +Mr. Goeblin shuddered. + +"No, no," laughed Mr. Greypoole, "_these_ are only imitations. Mr. +Conklin upstairs was head of a large firm; absolutely in love with his +work, you know--that kind of thing. So we had to duplicate not only the +office, but the building and even replicas of all the people in the +building. Mr. Conklin himself is in an easy chair on the twentieth +story." + +"_And?_" + +"Well, gentlemen, as you know, Happy Glades is the outstanding mortuary +on Earth. And, to put it briefly, with the constant explorations of +planets and moons and whatnot, our Mr. Waldmeyer hit upon this scheme: +Seeking to extend the ideal hereafter to our Guests, we bought out this +little asteroid. With the vast volume and the tremendous turnover, as it +were, we got our staff of scientists together and they offered this +plan--to duplicate the exact surroundings which the Guest most enjoyed +in Life, assure him privacy, permanence (a _very_ big point, as you can +see), and all the small things not possible on Earth." + +"Why here, why cart off a million miles or more when the same thing +could have been done on Earth?" + +"My communication system went bad, I fear, so I haven't heard from the +offices in some while--but, I am to understand there is a war beginning? +_That_ is the idea, Captain; one could never really be sure of one's +self down there, what with all the new bombs and things being +discovered." + +"Hmm," said Captain Webber. + +"Then too, Mr. Waldmeyer worried about those new societies with their +dreadful ideas about cremation--you can see what that sort of thing +could do to the undertaking business? His plan caught on, however, and +soon we were having to turn away Guests." + +"And where do you fit in, Mr. Greypoole?" + +The little man seemed to blush; he lowered his eyes. "I was head +caretaker, you see. But I wasn't well--gastric complaints, liver, heart +palpitations, this and that; so, I decided to allow them to ... _change_ +me. They turned all manner of machines on my body and pumped me full of +fluids and by the time I got here, why, I was almost, you might say, a +machine myself! Fortunately, though, they left a good deal of Greypoole. +All I know is that whenever the film is punctured, I wake and become a +machine, do my prescribed duties in a complex way and--" + +"The film?" + +"The covering that seals in the conditioning. Nothing can get out, +nothing get in--except things like rockets. Then, it's self-sealing, +needless to say. But to get on, Captain. With all the technical +advancements, it soon got to where there was no real work to be done +here; they threw up the film and coated us with their preservative or, +as they put it, Eternifier, and--well, with the exception of my calendar +and the communications system, everything's worked perfectly, including +myself." + + * * * * * + +No one said anything for a while. Then Captain Webber said, with great +slowness, "You're lying. This is all a crazy, hideous plot." The little +man chuckled at the word plot. + +"In the first place, no cemetery or form of cemetery has existed on +Earth for--how long, Friden?" + +Mr. Friden stared at his fingers. "Years and years." + +"Exactly. There are communal furnaces now." + +Mr. Greypoole winced. + +"And furthermore," continued the captain, "this whole concept is +ridiculous." + +Mr. Chitterwick threw down the pamphlet and began to tremble. "We should +have stayed home," he remarked to a young woman who did not answer. + +"Mr. Greypoole," Webber said, "I think that you know more than you're +saying. You didn't seem very surprised when you learned we weren't the +men you expected; you don't seem very surprised now that I tell you that +your 'Happy Glades' and all the people connected with it have been dead +for ages. So, why the display of interest in our explanations, why--" + +The faint murmur, "A good machine checks and double checks," could be +heard from Mr. Greypoole, who otherwise said nothing. + +"I speak for my men: we're confused, terribly confused. But whatever +this is, we're stuck, can't you see? All we want is a place to begin +again--" Captain Webber paused, looked at the others and went on in a +softer tone. "We're tired men, Mr. Greypoole; we're poorly equipped, but +we do have weapons and if this is some hypnotic kind of trap...." + +The little man waved his hand, offendedly. + +"There are lakes and farms and all we need to make a new start--more +than we'd hoped for, much more." + +"What _had_ you hoped for, Captain?" + +"Something. Nothing. Just escape--" + +"But I see no women--how could you begin again, as you suggest?" + +"Women? Too weak; they would not have lasted. We brought along eggs and +machines--enough for our needs." + +Mr. Greypoole clucked his tongue. "Mr. Waldmeyer certainly did look +ahead," he muttered, "he certainly _did_." + +"Will we be honest now? Will you help us?" + +"Yes, Captain, I will help you. Let us go back to your rocket." Mr. +Greypoole smiled. "Things will be better there." + +Captain Webber signaled. They left the building and walked by the foot +of a white mountain. + + * * * * * + +They passed a garden with little spotted trees and flowers, a brown +desert of shifting sands and a striped tent; they walked by strawberry +fields and airplane hangars and coal mines; tiny yellow cottages, +cramped apartments, fluted houses and Tudor houses and houses without +description.... + +Past rock pools and a great zoo full of animals that stared out of +vacant eyes; and everywhere, the seasons changing gently: crisp autumn, +cottony summer, windy spring and winters cool and white.... + +The six men in uniforms followed the little man with the thin hair. They +did not speak as they walked, but looked around, stared, craned, +wondered.... + +And the old, young, middle-aged, white, brown, yellow people who did not +move wondered back at the men with their eyes.... + +"You see, Captain, the success of Mr. Waldmeyer's plan?" + +Captain Webber rubbed his cheek. + +"I don't understand," he said. + +"But you do see, all of you, the perfection here, the quality of Eternal +Happiness which the circular speaks of?" + +"Yes ... we see that." + +"Here we have happiness and brotherhood, here there have never been wars +or hatreds or prejudices. And now you who were many and left Earth to +escape war and hatred, who were many by your own word and are now only +six, you want to begin life _here_?" + +Cross-breezes ruffled the men's hair. + +"To _begin_, when from the moment of your departure you had wars of your +own, and killed, and hurled mocking prejudice against a race of people +not like you, a race who rejected and cast you out into space again! +From your own account! No gentlemen, I am truly sorry. It may be that I +misjudged those of you who are left, or rather, that Happy Glades +misjudged you. You may mean well, after all--and, of course, the +location of this asteroid was so planned by the Board as to be uncharted +forever. But--oh, I am sorry." Mr. Greypoole sighed. + +"What does he mean by that?" asked Mr. Friden and Lieutenant Peterson. + +Captain Webber was gazing at a herd of cows in the distance. + +"What do you mean, you're 'sorry'?" demanded Mr. Friden. + +"Well...." + +"Captain Webber!" cried Mr. Chitterwick, blinking. + +"Yes, yes?" + +"I feel queer." + +Mr. Goeblin clutched at his stomach. + +"So do I!" + +"And me!" + +Captain Webber looked back at the fields, then at Mr. Greypoole. His +mouth twitched in sudden pain. + +"We feel awful, Captain!" + +"I'm sorry, gentlemen. Follow me to your ship, quickly." Mr. Greypoole +motioned curiously with his hands and began to step briskly. + + * * * * * + +They circled a small pond where a motionless boy strained toe-high on an +extended board. And the day once again turned to night as they hurried +past a shadowed cathedral. + +When they were in sight of the scorched trees, Mr. Milton doubled up and +screamed. + +"Captain!" + +Mr. Goeblin struck his forehead. "I told you, I told you we shouldn't +have drunk that wine! Didn't I tell you?" + +"It was the wine--and we all drank it. _He_ did it, _he_ poisoned us!" + +"Follow me!" cried Mr. Greypoole, making a hurried gesture and breaking +into a run. "Faster!" + +They stumbled hypnotically through the park, over the Mandarin-bridges +to the rock. + +"Tell them, Captain, tell them to climb the ladder." + +"Go on up, men." + +"But we're poisoned, sir!" + +"_Hurry!_ There's--an antidote in the ship." + +The crew climbed into the ship. + +"Captain," invited Mr. Greypoole. + +Captain Webber ascended jerkily. When he reached the open lock, he +turned. His eyes swept over the hills and fields and mountains, over the +rivers and houses and still people. He coughed and pulled himself into +the rocket. + +Mr. Greypoole followed. + +"You don't dislike this ship, do you--that is, the surroundings are not +offensive?" + +"No; we don't dislike the ship." + +"I am glad of that--if _only_ I had been allowed more latitude! But +everything functions so well here; no real choice in the matter, +actually. No more than the Sealing Film. And they _would_ leave me with +these human emotions! I see, of course, why the communications system +doesn't work, why my calendar is out of commission. Kind of Mr. +Waldmeyer to arrange for them to stop when his worst fears finally +materialized. Are the men all seated? No, no, they mustn't writhe about +the floor like that. Get them to their stations--no, to the stations +they would most prefer. And hurry!" + +Captain Webber ordered Mr. Chitterwick to the galley, Mr. Goeblin to the +engineering chair, Mr. Friden to the navigator's room.... + +"Sir, what's going to happen? _Where's the antidote?_" + +Mr. Milton to the pilot's chair.... + +"The pain will last only another moment or so--it's unfortunately part +of the Eternifier," said Mr. Greypoole. "There, all in order? Good, +good. Now, Captain, I see understanding in your face; that pleases me +more than I can say. My position is so difficult! But you can see, when +a machine is geared to its job--which is to retain permanence on HAPPY +GLADES--well, a machine is a machine. Where shall we put _you_?" + +Captain Webber leaned on the arm of the little man and walked to the +open lock. + +"You _do_ understand?" asked Mr. Greypoole. + +Captain Webber's head nodded halfway down, then stopped; and his eyes +froze forever upon the City. + +"A pity...." + +The little man with the thin hair walked about the cabins and rooms, +straightening, dusting; he climbed down the ladder, shook his head and +started down the path to the wooden house. + +When he had washed all the empty glasses and replaced them, he sat down +in the large leather chair and adjusted himself into the most +comfortable position. + +His eyes stared in waxen contentment at the homely interior, with its +lavender wallpaper, needle-point tapestries and tidy arrangement. + +He did not move. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Elegy, by Charles Beaumont + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ELEGY *** + +***** This file should be named 32819.txt or 32819.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/2/8/1/32819/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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