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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f850c33 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51082 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51082) diff --git a/old/51082-h.zip b/old/51082-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 21ce807..0000000 --- a/old/51082-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51082-h/51082-h.htm b/old/51082-h/51082-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 6eb9dd5..0000000 --- a/old/51082-h/51082-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1193 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Coming Attraction, by Fritz Leiber. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Coming Attraction, by Fritz Leiber - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Coming Attraction - -Author: Fritz Leiber - -Release Date: January 30, 2016 [EBook #51082] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COMING ATTRACTION *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="352" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>Coming Attraction</h1> - -<p>BY FRITZ LEIBER</p> - -<p>Illustrated by Paul Calle</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Science Fiction November 1950.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3">Women will always go on trying to attract men ...<br /> -even when the future seems to have no future!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The coupe with the fishhooks welded to the fender shouldered up over -the curb like the nose of a nightmare. The girl in its path stood -frozen, her face probably stiff with fright under her mask. For once my -reflexes weren't shy. I took a fast step toward her, grabbed her elbow, -yanked her back. Her black skirt swirled out.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="173" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>The big coupe shot by, its turbine humming. I glimpsed three faces. -Something ripped. I felt the hot exhaust on my ankles as the big -coupe swerved back into the street. A thick cloud like a black flower -blossomed from its jouncing rear end, while from the fishhooks flew a -black shimmering rag.</p> - -<p>"Did they get you?" I asked the girl.</p> - -<p>She had twisted around to look where the side of her skirt was torn -away. She was wearing nylon tights.</p> - -<p>"The hooks didn't touch me," she said shakily. "I guess I'm lucky."</p> - -<p>I heard voices around us:</p> - -<p>"Those kids! What'll they think up next?"</p> - -<p>"They're a menace. They ought to be arrested."</p> - -<p>Sirens screamed at a rising pitch as two motor-police, their -rocket-assist jets full on, came whizzing toward us after the coupe. -But the black flower had become a thick fog obscuring the whole street. -The motor-police switched from rocket assists to rocket brakes and -swerved to a stop near the smoke cloud.</p> - -<p>"Are you English?" the girl asked me. "You have an English accent."</p> - -<p>Her voice came shudderingly from behind the sleek black satin mask. -I fancied her teeth must be chattering. Eyes that were perhaps blue -searched my face from behind the black gauze covering the eyeholes of -the mask. I told her she'd guessed right. She stood close to me. "Will -you come to my place tonight?" she asked rapidly. "I can't thank you -now. And there's something you can help me about."</p> - -<p>My arm, still lightly circling her waist, felt her body trembling. I -was answering the plea in that as much as in her voice when I said, -"Certainly." She gave me an address south of Inferno, an apartment -number and a time. She asked me my name and I told her.</p> - -<p>"Hey, you!"</p> - -<p>I turned obediently to the policeman's shout. He shooed away the small -clucking crowd of masked women and barefaced men. Coughing from the -smoke that the black coupe had thrown out, he asked for my papers. I -handed him the essential ones.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He looked at them and then at me. "British Barter? How long will you be -in New York?"</p> - -<p>Suppressing the urge to say, "For as short a time as possible," I told -him I'd be here for a week or so.</p> - -<p>"May need you as a witness," he explained. "Those kids can't use smoke -on us. When they do that, we pull them in."</p> - -<p>He seemed to think the smoke was the bad thing. "They tried to kill the -lady," I pointed out.</p> - -<p>He shook his head wisely. "They always pretend they're going to, but -actually they just want to snag skirts. I've picked up rippers with -as many as fifty skirt-snags tacked up in their rooms. Of course, -sometimes they come a little too close."</p> - -<p>I explained that if I hadn't yanked her out of the way, she'd have been -hit by more than hooks. But he interrupted, "If she'd thought it was a -real murder attempt, she'd have stayed here."</p> - -<p>I looked around. It was true. She was gone.</p> - -<p>"She was fearfully frightened," I told him.</p> - -<p>"Who wouldn't be? Those kids would have scared old Stalin himself."</p> - -<p>"I mean frightened of more than 'kids.' They didn't look like 'kids.'"</p> - -<p>"What did they look like?"</p> - -<p>I tried without much success to describe the three faces. A vague -impression of viciousness and effeminacy doesn't mean much.</p> - -<p>"Well, I could be wrong," he said finally. "Do you know the girl? Where -she lives?"</p> - -<p>"No," I half lied.</p> - -<p>The other policeman hung up his radiophone and ambled toward us, -kicking at the tendrils of dissipating smoke. The black cloud no longer -hid the dingy facades with their five-year-old radiation flash-burns, -and I could begin to make out the distant stump of the Empire State -Building, thrusting up out of Inferno like a mangled finger.</p> - -<p>"They haven't been picked up so far," the approaching policeman -grumbled. "Left smoke for five blocks, from what Ryan says."</p> - -<p>The first policeman shook his head. "That's bad," he observed solemnly.</p> - -<p>I was feeling a bit uneasy and ashamed. An Englishman shouldn't lie, at -least not on impulse.</p> - -<p>"They sound like nasty customers," the first policeman continued in the -same grim tone. "We'll need witnesses. Looks as if you may have to stay -in New York longer than you expect."</p> - -<p>I got the point. I said, "I forgot to show you all my papers," and -handed him a few others, making sure there was a five dollar bill in -among them.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>When he handed them back a bit later, his voice was no longer ominous. -My feelings of guilt vanished. To cement our relationship, I chatted -with the two of them about their job.</p> - -<p>"I suppose the masks give you some trouble," I observed. "Over in -England we've been reading about your new crop of masked female -bandits."</p> - -<p>"Those things get exaggerated," the first policeman assured me. "It's -the men masking as women that really mix us up. But, brother, when we -nab them, we jump on them with both feet."</p> - -<p>"And you get so you can spot women almost as well as if they had naked -faces," the second policeman volunteered. "You know, hands and all -that."</p> - -<p>"Especially all that," the first agreed with a chuckle. "Say, is it -true that some girls don't mask over in England?"</p> - -<p>"A number of them have picked up the fashion," I told him. "Only a few, -though—the ones who always adopt the latest style, however extreme."</p> - -<p>"They're usually masked in the British newscasts."</p> - -<p>"I imagine it's arranged that way out of deference to American taste," -I confessed. "Actually, not very many do mask."</p> - -<p>The second policeman considered that. "Girls going down the street bare -from the neck up." It was not clear whether he viewed the prospect with -relish or moral distaste. Likely both.</p> - -<p>"A few members keep trying to persuade Parliament to enact a law -forbidding all masking," I continued, talking perhaps a bit too much.</p> - -<p>The second policeman shook his head. "What an idea. You know, masks are -a pretty good thing, brother. Couple of years more and I'm going to -make my wife wear hers around the house."</p> - -<p>The first policeman shrugged. "If women were to stop wearing masks, in -six weeks you wouldn't know the difference. You get used to anything, -if enough people do or don't do it."</p> - -<p>I agreed, rather regretfully, and left them. I turned north on Broadway -(old Tenth Avenue, I believe) and walked rapidly until I was beyond -Inferno. Passing such an area of undecontaminated radioactivity always -makes a person queasy. I thanked God there weren't any such in England, -as yet.</p> - -<p>The street was almost empty, though I was accosted by a couple of -beggars with faces tunneled by H-bomb scars, whether real or of makeup -putty, I couldn't tell. A fat woman held out a baby with webbed fingers -and toes. I told myself it would have been deformed anyway and that she -was only capitalizing on our fear of bomb-induced mutations. Still, -I gave her a seven-and-a-half-cent piece. Her mask made me feel I was -paying tribute to an African fetish.</p> - -<p>"May all your children be blessed with one head and two eyes, sir."</p> - -<p>"Thanks," I said, shuddering, and hurried past her.</p> - -<p>"... There's only trash behind the mask, so turn your head, stick to -your task: Stay away, stay away—from—the—girls!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>This last was the end of an anti-sex song being sung by some -religionists half a block from the circle-and-cross insignia of a -femalist temple. They reminded me only faintly of our small tribe -of British monastics. Above their heads was a jumble of billboards -advertising predigested foods, wrestling instruction, radio handies and -the like.</p> - -<p>I stared at the hysterical slogans with disagreeable fascination. Since -the female face and form have been banned on American signs, the very -letters of the advertiser's alphabet have begun to crawl with sex—the -fat-bellied, big-breasted capital B, the lascivious double O. However, -I reminded myself, it is chiefly the mask that so strangely accents sex -in America.</p> - -<p>A British anthropologist has pointed out, that, while it took more -than 5,000 years to shift the chief point of sexual interest from the -hips to the breasts, the next transition to the face has taken less -than 50 years. Comparing the American style with Moslem tradition is -not valid; Moslem women are compelled to wear veils, the purpose of -which is concealment, while American women have only the compulsion of -fashion and use masks to create mystery.</p> - -<p>Theory aside, the actual origins of the trend are to be found in -the anti-radiation clothing of World War III, which led to masked -wrestling, now a fantastically popular sport, and that in turn led to -the current female fashion. Only a wild style at first, masks quickly -became as necessary as brassieres and lipsticks had been earlier in the -century.</p> - -<p>I finally realized that I was not speculating about masks in general, -but about what lay behind one in particular. That's the devil of the -things; you're never sure whether a girl is heightening loveliness -or hiding ugliness. I pictured a cool, pretty face in which fear -showed only in widened eyes. Then I remembered her blonde hair, rich -against the blackness of the satin mask. She'd told me to come at the -twenty-second hour—ten p.m.</p> - -<p>I climbed to my apartment near the British Consulate; the elevator -shaft had been shoved out of plumb by an old blast, a nuisance in these -tall New York buildings. Before it occurred to me that I would be -going out again, I automatically tore a tab from the film strip under -my shirt. I developed it just to be sure. It showed that the total -radiation I'd taken that day was still within the safety limit. I'm -not phobic about it, as so many people are these days, but there's no -point in taking chances.</p> - -<p>I flopped down on the day bed and stared at the silent speaker and the -dark screen of the video set. As always, they made me think, somewhat -bitterly, of the two great nations of the world. Mutilated by each -other, yet still strong, they were crippled giants poisoning the planet -with their dreams of an impossible equality and an impossible success.</p> - -<p>I fretfully switched on the speaker. By luck, the newscaster was -talking excitedly of the prospects of a bumper wheat crop, sown by -planes across a dust bowl moistened by seeded rains. I listened -carefully to the rest of the program (it was remarkably clear of -Russian telejamming) but there was no further news of interest to -me. And, of course, no mention of the Moon, though everyone knows -that America and Russia are racing to develop their primary bases -into fortresses capable of mutual assault and the launching of -alphabet-bombs toward Earth. I myself knew perfectly well that the -British electronic equipment I was helping trade for American wheat was -destined for use in spaceships.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I switched off the newscast. It was growing dark and once again I -pictured a tender, frightened face behind a mask. I hadn't had a date -since England. It's exceedingly difficult to become acquainted with a -girl in America, where as little as a smile, often, can set one of them -yelping for the police—to say nothing of the increasing puritanical -morality and the roving gangs that keep most women indoors after dark. -And naturally, the masks which are definitely not, as the Soviets -claim, a last invention of capitalist degeneracy, but a sign of great -psychological insecurity. The Russians have no masks, but they have -their own signs of stress.</p> - -<p>I went to the window and impatiently watched the darkness gather. I was -getting very restless. After a while a ghostly violet cloud appeared to -the south. My hair rose. Then I laughed. I had momentarily fancied it a -radiation from the crater of the Hell-bomb, though I should instantly -have known it was only the radio-induced glow in the sky over the -amusement and residential area south of Inferno.</p> - -<p>Promptly at twenty-two hours I stood before the door of my unknown girl -friend's apartment. The electronic say-who-please said just that. I -answered clearly, "Wysten Turner," wondering if she'd given my name to -the mechanism. She evidently had, for the door opened. I walked into a -small empty living room, my heart pounding a bit.</p> - -<p>The room was expensively furnished with the latest pneumatic hassocks -and sprawlers. There were some midgie books on the table. The one I -picked up was the standard hard-boiled detective story in which two -female murderers go gunning for each other.</p> - -<p>The television was on. A masked girl in green was crooning a love song. -Her right hand held something that blurred off into the foreground. -I saw the set had a handie, which we haven't in England as yet, and -curiously thrust my hand into the handie orifice beside the screen. -Contrary to my expectations, it was not like slipping into a pulsing -rubber glove, but rather as if the girl on the screen actually held my -hand.</p> - -<p>A door opened behind me. I jerked out my hand with as guilty a reaction -as if I'd been caught peering through a keyhole.</p> - -<p>She stood in the bedroom doorway. I think she was trembling. She was -wearing a gray fur coat, white-speckled, and a gray velvet evening -mask with shirred gray lace around the eyes and mouth. Her fingernails -twinkled like silver.</p> - -<p>It hadn't occurred to me that she'd expect us to go out.</p> - -<p>"I should have told you," she said softly. Her mask veered nervously -toward the books and the screen and the room's dark corners. "But I -can't possibly talk to you here."</p> - -<p>I said doubtfully, "There's a place near the Consulate...."</p> - -<p>"I know where we can be together and talk," she said rapidly. "If you -don't mind."</p> - -<p>As we entered the elevator I said, "I'm afraid I dismissed the cab."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>But the cab driver hadn't gone for some reason of his own. He jumped -out and smirkingly held the front door open for us. I told him we -preferred to sit in back. He sulkily opened the rear door, slammed it -after us, jumped in front and slammed the door behind him.</p> - -<p>My companion leaned forward. "Heaven," she said.</p> - -<p>The driver switched on the turbine and televisor.</p> - -<p>"Why did you ask if I were a British subject?" I said, to start the -conversation.</p> - -<p>She leaned away from me, tilting her mask close to the window. "See the -Moon," she said in a quick, dreamy voice.</p> - -<p>"But why, really?" I pressed, conscious of an irritation that had -nothing to do with her.</p> - -<p>"It's edging up into the purple of the sky."</p> - -<p>"And what's your name?"</p> - -<p>"The purple makes it look yellower."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Just then I became aware of the source of my irritation. It lay in the -square of writhing light in the front of the cab beside the driver.</p> - -<p>I don't object to ordinary wrestling matches, though they bore me, but -I simply detest watching a man wrestle a woman. The fact that the bouts -are generally "on the level," with the man greatly outclassed in weight -and reach and the masked females young and personable, only makes them -seem worse to me.</p> - -<p>"Please turn off the screen," I requested the driver.</p> - -<p>He shook his head without looking around. "Uh-uh, man," he said. -"They've been grooming that babe for weeks for this bout with Little -Zirk."</p> - -<p>Infuriated, I reached forward, but my companion caught my arm. -"Please," she whispered frightenedly, shaking her head.</p> - -<p>I settled back, frustrated. She was closer to me now, but silent and -for a few moments I watched the heaves and contortions of the powerful -masked girl and her wiry masked opponent on the screen. His frantic -scrambling at her reminded me of a male spider.</p> - -<p>I jerked around, facing my companion. "Why did those three men want to -kill you?" I asked sharply.</p> - -<p>The eyeholes of her mask faced the screen. "Because they're jealous of -me," she whispered.</p> - -<p>"Why are they jealous?"</p> - -<p>She still didn't look at me. "Because of him."</p> - -<p>"Who?"</p> - -<p>She didn't answer.</p> - -<p>I put my arm around her shoulders. "Are you afraid to tell me?" I -asked. "What <i>is</i> the matter?"</p> - -<p>She still didn't look my way. She smelled nice.</p> - -<p>"See here," I said laughingly, changing my tactics, "you really should -tell me something about yourself. I don't even know what you look like."</p> - -<p>I half playfully lifted my hand to the band of her neck. She gave it an -astonishingly swift slap. I pulled it away in sudden pain. There were -four tiny indentations on the back. From one of them a tiny bead of -blood welled out as I watched. I looked at her silver fingernails and -saw they were actually delicate and pointed metal caps.</p> - -<p>"I'm dreadfully sorry," I heard her say, "but you frightened me. I -thought for a moment you were going to...."</p> - -<p>At last she turned to me. Her coat had fallen open. Her evening dress -was Cretan Revival, a bodice of lace beneath and supporting the breasts -without covering them.</p> - -<p>"Don't be angry," she said, putting her arms around my neck. "You were -wonderful this afternoon."</p> - -<p>The soft gray velvet of her mask, molding itself to her cheek, pressed -mine. Through the mask's lace the wet warm tip of her tongue touched my -chin.</p> - -<p>"I'm not angry," I said. "Just puzzled and anxious to help."</p> - -<p>The cab stopped. To either side were black windows bordered by spears -of broken glass. The sickly purple light showed a few ragged figures -slowly moving toward us.</p> - -<p>The driver muttered, "It's the turbine, man. We're grounded." He sat -there hunched and motionless. "Wish it had happened somewhere else."</p> - -<p>My companion whispered, "Five dollars is the usual amount."</p> - -<p>She looked out so shudderingly at the congregating figures that I -suppressed my indignation and did as she suggested. The driver took the -bill without a word. As he started up, he put his hand out the window -and I heard a few coins clink on the pavement.</p> - -<p>My companion came back into my arms, but her mask faced the television -screen, where the tall girl had just pinned the convulsively kicking -Little Zirk.</p> - -<p>"I'm so frightened," she breathed.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Heaven turned out to be an equally ruinous neighborhood, but it had a -club with an awning and a huge doorman uniformed like a spaceman, but -in gaudy colors. In my sensuous daze I rather liked it all. We stepped -out of the cab just as a drunken old woman came down the sidewalk, -her mask awry. A couple ahead of us turned their heads from the half -revealed face, as if from an ugly body at the beach. As we followed -them in I heard the doorman say, "Get along, grandma, and watch -yourself."</p> - -<p>Inside, everything was dimness and blue glows. She had said we could -talk here, but I didn't see how. Besides the inevitable chorus of -sneezes and coughs (they say America is fifty per cent allergic -these days), there was a band going full blast in the latest robop -style, in which an electronic composing machine selects an arbitrary -sequence of tones into which the musicians weave their raucous little -individualities.</p> - -<p>Most of the people were in booths. The band was behind the bar. On a -small platform beside them, a girl was dancing, stripped to her mask. -The little cluster of men at the shadowy far end of the bar weren't -looking at her.</p> - -<p>We inspected the menu in gold script on the wall and pushed the buttons -for breast of chicken, fried shrimps and two scotches. Moments later, -the serving bell tinkled. I opened the gleaming panel and took out our -drinks.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The cluster of men at the bar filed off toward the door, but first they -stared around the room. My companion had just thrown back her coat. -Their look lingered on our booth. I noticed that there were three of -them.</p> - -<p>The band chased off the dancing girl with growls. I handed my companion -a straw and we sipped our drinks.</p> - -<p>"You wanted me to help you about something," I said. "Incidentally, I -think you're lovely."</p> - -<p>She nodded quick thanks, looked around, leaned forward. "Would it be -hard for me to get to England?"</p> - -<p>"No," I replied, a bit taken aback. "Provided you have an American -passport."</p> - -<p>"Are they difficult to get?"</p> - -<p>"Rather," I said, surprised at her lack of information. "Your country -doesn't like its nationals to travel, though it isn't quite as -stringent as Russia."</p> - -<p>"Could the British Consulate help me get a passport?"</p> - -<p>"It's hardly their...."</p> - -<p>"Could you?"</p> - -<p>I realized we were being inspected. A man and two girls had paused -opposite our table. The girls were tall and wolfish-looking, with -spangled masks. The man stood jauntily between them like a fox on its -hind legs.</p> - -<p>My companion didn't glance at them, but she sat back. I noticed that -one of the girls had a big yellow bruise on her forearm. After a moment -they walked to a booth in the deep shadows.</p> - -<p>"Know them?" I asked. She didn't reply. I finished my drink. "I'm not -sure you'd like England," I said. "The austerity's altogether different -from your American brand of misery."</p> - -<p>She leaned forward again. "But I must get away," she whispered.</p> - -<p>"Why?" I was getting impatient.</p> - -<p>"Because I'm so frightened."</p> - -<p>There were chimes. I opened the panel and handed her the fried shrimps. -The sauce on my breast of chicken was a delicious steaming compound of -almonds, soy and ginger. But something must have been wrong with the -radionic oven that had thawed and heated it, for at the first bite I -crunched a kernel of ice in the meat. These delicate mechanisms need -constant repair and there aren't enough mechanics.</p> - -<p>I put down my fork. "What are you really scared of?" I asked her.</p> - -<p>For once her mask didn't waver away from my face. As I waited I -could feel the fears gathering without her naming them, tiny dark -shapes swarming through the curved night outside, converging on the -radioactive pest spot of New York, dipping into the margins of the -purple. I felt a sudden rush of sympathy, a desire to protect the -girl opposite me. The warm feeling added itself to the infatuation -engendered in the cab.</p> - -<p>"Everything," she said finally.</p> - -<p>I nodded and touched her hand.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid of the Moon," she began, her voice going dreamy and brittle -as it had in the cab. "You can't look at it and not think of guided -bombs."</p> - -<p>"It's the same Moon over England," I reminded her.</p> - -<p>"But it's not England's Moon any more. It's ours and Russia's. You're -not responsible."</p> - -<p>I pressed her hand.</p> - -<p>"Oh, and then," she said with a tilt of her mask, "I'm afraid of the -cars and the gangs and the loneliness and Inferno. I'm afraid of the -lust that undresses your face. And—" her voice hushed—"I'm afraid of -the wrestlers."</p> - -<p>"Yes?" I prompted softly after a moment.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Her mask came forward. "Do you know something about the wrestlers?" she -asked rapidly. "The ones that wrestle women, I mean. They often lose, -you know. And then they have to have a girl to take their frustration -out on. A girl who's soft and weak and terribly frightened. They need -that, to keep them men. Other men don't want them to have a girl. -Other men want them just to fight women and be heroes. But they must -have a girl. It's horrible for her."</p> - -<p>I squeezed her fingers tighter, as if courage could be -transmitted—granting I had any. "I think I can get you to England," I -said.</p> - -<p>Shadows crawled onto the table and stayed there. I looked up at the -three men who had been at the end of the bar. They were the men I had -seen in the big coupe. They wore black sweaters and close-fitting black -trousers. Their faces were as expressionless as dopers. Two of them -stood above me. The other loomed over the girl.</p> - -<p>"Drift off, man," I was told. I heard the other inform the girl: -"We'll wrestle a fall, sister. What shall it be? Judo, slapsie or -kill-who-can?"</p> - -<p>I stood up. There are times when an Englishman simply must be -mal-treated. But just then the foxlike man came gliding in like the -star of a ballet. The reaction of the other three startled me. They -were acutely embarrassed.</p> - -<p>He smiled at them thinly. "You won't win my favor by tricks like this," -he said.</p> - -<p>"Don't get the wrong idea, Zirk," one of them pleaded.</p> - -<p>"I will if it's right," he said. "She told me what you tried to do this -afternoon. That won't endear you to me, either. Drift."</p> - -<p>They backed off awkwardly. "Let's get out of here," one of them said -loudly, as they turned. "I know a place where they fight naked with -knives."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Little Zirk laughed musically and slipped into the seat beside my -companion. She shrank from him, just a little. I pushed my feet back, -leaned forward.</p> - -<p>"Who's your friend, baby?" he asked, not looking at her.</p> - -<p>She passed the question to me with a little gesture. I told him.</p> - -<p>"British," he observed. "She's been asking you about getting out of the -country? About passports?" He smiled pleasantly. "She likes to start -running away. Don't you, baby?" His small hand began to stroke her -wrist, the fingers bent a little, the tendons ridged, as if he were -about to grab and twist.</p> - -<p>"Look here," I said sharply. "I have to be grateful to you for ordering -off those bullies, but—"</p> - -<p>"Think nothing of it," he told me. "They're no harm except when they're -behind steering wheels. A well-trained fourteen-year-old girl could -cripple any one of them. Why, even Theda here, if she went in for that -sort of thing...." He turned to her, shifting his hand from her wrist -to her hair. He stroked it, letting the strands slip slowly through his -fingers. "You know I lost tonight, baby, don't you?" he said softly.</p> - -<p>I stood up. "Come along," I said to her. "Let's leave."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She just sat there. I couldn't even tell if she was trembling. I tried -to read a message in her eyes through the mask.</p> - -<p>"I'll take you away," I said to her. "I can do it. I really will."</p> - -<p>He smiled at me. "She'd like to go with you," he said. "Wouldn't you, -baby?"</p> - -<p>"Will you or won't you?" I said to her. She still just sat there.</p> - -<p>He slowly knotted his fingers in her hair.</p> - -<p>"Listen, you little vermin," I snapped at him, "Take your hands off -her."</p> - -<p>He came up from the seat like a snake. I'm no fighter. I just know that -the more scared I am, the harder and straighter I hit. This time I was -lucky. But as he crumpled back, I felt a slap and four stabs of pain in -my cheek. I clapped my hand to it. I could feel the four gashes made by -her dagger finger caps, and the warm blood oozing out from them.</p> - -<p>She didn't look at me. She was bending over little Zirk and cuddling -her mask to his cheek and crooning: "There, there, don't feel bad, -you'll be able to hurt me afterward."</p> - -<p>There were sounds around us, but they didn't come close. I leaned -forward and ripped the mask from her face.</p> - -<p>I really don't know why I should have expected her face to be anything -else. It was very pale, of course, and there weren't any cosmetics. I -suppose there's no point in wearing any under a mask. The eye-brows -were untidy and the lips chapped. But as for the general expression, as -for the feelings crawling and wriggling across it—</p> - -<p>Have you ever lifted a rock from damp soil? Have you ever watched the -slimy white grubs?</p> - -<p>I looked down at her, she up at me. "Yes, you're so frightened, aren't -you?" I said sarcastically. "You dread this little nightly drama, don't -you? You're scared to death."</p> - -<p>And I walked right out into the purple night, still holding my hand -to my bleeding cheek. No one stopped me, not even the girl wrestlers. -I wished I could tear a tab from under my shirt, and test it then and -there, and find I'd taken too much radiation, and so be able to ask to -cross the Hudson and go down New Jersey, past the lingering radiance of -the Narrows Bomb, and so on to Sandy Hook to wait for the rusty ship -that would take me back over the seas to England.</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Coming Attraction, by Fritz Leiber - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COMING ATTRACTION *** - -***** This file should be named 51082-h.htm or 51082-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/0/8/51082/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Coming Attraction - -Author: Fritz Leiber - -Release Date: January 30, 2016 [EBook #51082] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COMING ATTRACTION *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - Coming Attraction - - BY FRITZ LEIBER - - Illustrated by Paul Calle - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Science Fiction November 1950. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - Women will always go on trying to attract men ... - even when the future seems to have no future! - - -The coupe with the fishhooks welded to the fender shouldered up over -the curb like the nose of a nightmare. The girl in its path stood -frozen, her face probably stiff with fright under her mask. For once my -reflexes weren't shy. I took a fast step toward her, grabbed her elbow, -yanked her back. Her black skirt swirled out. - -The big coupe shot by, its turbine humming. I glimpsed three faces. -Something ripped. I felt the hot exhaust on my ankles as the big -coupe swerved back into the street. A thick cloud like a black flower -blossomed from its jouncing rear end, while from the fishhooks flew a -black shimmering rag. - -"Did they get you?" I asked the girl. - -She had twisted around to look where the side of her skirt was torn -away. She was wearing nylon tights. - -"The hooks didn't touch me," she said shakily. "I guess I'm lucky." - -I heard voices around us: - -"Those kids! What'll they think up next?" - -"They're a menace. They ought to be arrested." - -Sirens screamed at a rising pitch as two motor-police, their -rocket-assist jets full on, came whizzing toward us after the coupe. -But the black flower had become a thick fog obscuring the whole street. -The motor-police switched from rocket assists to rocket brakes and -swerved to a stop near the smoke cloud. - -"Are you English?" the girl asked me. "You have an English accent." - -Her voice came shudderingly from behind the sleek black satin mask. -I fancied her teeth must be chattering. Eyes that were perhaps blue -searched my face from behind the black gauze covering the eyeholes of -the mask. I told her she'd guessed right. She stood close to me. "Will -you come to my place tonight?" she asked rapidly. "I can't thank you -now. And there's something you can help me about." - -My arm, still lightly circling her waist, felt her body trembling. I -was answering the plea in that as much as in her voice when I said, -"Certainly." She gave me an address south of Inferno, an apartment -number and a time. She asked me my name and I told her. - -"Hey, you!" - -I turned obediently to the policeman's shout. He shooed away the small -clucking crowd of masked women and barefaced men. Coughing from the -smoke that the black coupe had thrown out, he asked for my papers. I -handed him the essential ones. - - * * * * * - -He looked at them and then at me. "British Barter? How long will you be -in New York?" - -Suppressing the urge to say, "For as short a time as possible," I told -him I'd be here for a week or so. - -"May need you as a witness," he explained. "Those kids can't use smoke -on us. When they do that, we pull them in." - -He seemed to think the smoke was the bad thing. "They tried to kill the -lady," I pointed out. - -He shook his head wisely. "They always pretend they're going to, but -actually they just want to snag skirts. I've picked up rippers with -as many as fifty skirt-snags tacked up in their rooms. Of course, -sometimes they come a little too close." - -I explained that if I hadn't yanked her out of the way, she'd have been -hit by more than hooks. But he interrupted, "If she'd thought it was a -real murder attempt, she'd have stayed here." - -I looked around. It was true. She was gone. - -"She was fearfully frightened," I told him. - -"Who wouldn't be? Those kids would have scared old Stalin himself." - -"I mean frightened of more than 'kids.' They didn't look like 'kids.'" - -"What did they look like?" - -I tried without much success to describe the three faces. A vague -impression of viciousness and effeminacy doesn't mean much. - -"Well, I could be wrong," he said finally. "Do you know the girl? Where -she lives?" - -"No," I half lied. - -The other policeman hung up his radiophone and ambled toward us, -kicking at the tendrils of dissipating smoke. The black cloud no longer -hid the dingy facades with their five-year-old radiation flash-burns, -and I could begin to make out the distant stump of the Empire State -Building, thrusting up out of Inferno like a mangled finger. - -"They haven't been picked up so far," the approaching policeman -grumbled. "Left smoke for five blocks, from what Ryan says." - -The first policeman shook his head. "That's bad," he observed solemnly. - -I was feeling a bit uneasy and ashamed. An Englishman shouldn't lie, at -least not on impulse. - -"They sound like nasty customers," the first policeman continued in the -same grim tone. "We'll need witnesses. Looks as if you may have to stay -in New York longer than you expect." - -I got the point. I said, "I forgot to show you all my papers," and -handed him a few others, making sure there was a five dollar bill in -among them. - - * * * * * - -When he handed them back a bit later, his voice was no longer ominous. -My feelings of guilt vanished. To cement our relationship, I chatted -with the two of them about their job. - -"I suppose the masks give you some trouble," I observed. "Over in -England we've been reading about your new crop of masked female -bandits." - -"Those things get exaggerated," the first policeman assured me. "It's -the men masking as women that really mix us up. But, brother, when we -nab them, we jump on them with both feet." - -"And you get so you can spot women almost as well as if they had naked -faces," the second policeman volunteered. "You know, hands and all -that." - -"Especially all that," the first agreed with a chuckle. "Say, is it -true that some girls don't mask over in England?" - -"A number of them have picked up the fashion," I told him. "Only a few, -though--the ones who always adopt the latest style, however extreme." - -"They're usually masked in the British newscasts." - -"I imagine it's arranged that way out of deference to American taste," -I confessed. "Actually, not very many do mask." - -The second policeman considered that. "Girls going down the street bare -from the neck up." It was not clear whether he viewed the prospect with -relish or moral distaste. Likely both. - -"A few members keep trying to persuade Parliament to enact a law -forbidding all masking," I continued, talking perhaps a bit too much. - -The second policeman shook his head. "What an idea. You know, masks are -a pretty good thing, brother. Couple of years more and I'm going to -make my wife wear hers around the house." - -The first policeman shrugged. "If women were to stop wearing masks, in -six weeks you wouldn't know the difference. You get used to anything, -if enough people do or don't do it." - -I agreed, rather regretfully, and left them. I turned north on Broadway -(old Tenth Avenue, I believe) and walked rapidly until I was beyond -Inferno. Passing such an area of undecontaminated radioactivity always -makes a person queasy. I thanked God there weren't any such in England, -as yet. - -The street was almost empty, though I was accosted by a couple of -beggars with faces tunneled by H-bomb scars, whether real or of makeup -putty, I couldn't tell. A fat woman held out a baby with webbed fingers -and toes. I told myself it would have been deformed anyway and that she -was only capitalizing on our fear of bomb-induced mutations. Still, -I gave her a seven-and-a-half-cent piece. Her mask made me feel I was -paying tribute to an African fetish. - -"May all your children be blessed with one head and two eyes, sir." - -"Thanks," I said, shuddering, and hurried past her. - -"... There's only trash behind the mask, so turn your head, stick to -your task: Stay away, stay away--from--the--girls!" - - * * * * * - -This last was the end of an anti-sex song being sung by some -religionists half a block from the circle-and-cross insignia of a -femalist temple. They reminded me only faintly of our small tribe -of British monastics. Above their heads was a jumble of billboards -advertising predigested foods, wrestling instruction, radio handies and -the like. - -I stared at the hysterical slogans with disagreeable fascination. Since -the female face and form have been banned on American signs, the very -letters of the advertiser's alphabet have begun to crawl with sex--the -fat-bellied, big-breasted capital B, the lascivious double O. However, -I reminded myself, it is chiefly the mask that so strangely accents sex -in America. - -A British anthropologist has pointed out, that, while it took more -than 5,000 years to shift the chief point of sexual interest from the -hips to the breasts, the next transition to the face has taken less -than 50 years. Comparing the American style with Moslem tradition is -not valid; Moslem women are compelled to wear veils, the purpose of -which is concealment, while American women have only the compulsion of -fashion and use masks to create mystery. - -Theory aside, the actual origins of the trend are to be found in -the anti-radiation clothing of World War III, which led to masked -wrestling, now a fantastically popular sport, and that in turn led to -the current female fashion. Only a wild style at first, masks quickly -became as necessary as brassieres and lipsticks had been earlier in the -century. - -I finally realized that I was not speculating about masks in general, -but about what lay behind one in particular. That's the devil of the -things; you're never sure whether a girl is heightening loveliness -or hiding ugliness. I pictured a cool, pretty face in which fear -showed only in widened eyes. Then I remembered her blonde hair, rich -against the blackness of the satin mask. She'd told me to come at the -twenty-second hour--ten p.m. - -I climbed to my apartment near the British Consulate; the elevator -shaft had been shoved out of plumb by an old blast, a nuisance in these -tall New York buildings. Before it occurred to me that I would be -going out again, I automatically tore a tab from the film strip under -my shirt. I developed it just to be sure. It showed that the total -radiation I'd taken that day was still within the safety limit. I'm -not phobic about it, as so many people are these days, but there's no -point in taking chances. - -I flopped down on the day bed and stared at the silent speaker and the -dark screen of the video set. As always, they made me think, somewhat -bitterly, of the two great nations of the world. Mutilated by each -other, yet still strong, they were crippled giants poisoning the planet -with their dreams of an impossible equality and an impossible success. - -I fretfully switched on the speaker. By luck, the newscaster was -talking excitedly of the prospects of a bumper wheat crop, sown by -planes across a dust bowl moistened by seeded rains. I listened -carefully to the rest of the program (it was remarkably clear of -Russian telejamming) but there was no further news of interest to -me. And, of course, no mention of the Moon, though everyone knows -that America and Russia are racing to develop their primary bases -into fortresses capable of mutual assault and the launching of -alphabet-bombs toward Earth. I myself knew perfectly well that the -British electronic equipment I was helping trade for American wheat was -destined for use in spaceships. - - * * * * * - -I switched off the newscast. It was growing dark and once again I -pictured a tender, frightened face behind a mask. I hadn't had a date -since England. It's exceedingly difficult to become acquainted with a -girl in America, where as little as a smile, often, can set one of them -yelping for the police--to say nothing of the increasing puritanical -morality and the roving gangs that keep most women indoors after dark. -And naturally, the masks which are definitely not, as the Soviets -claim, a last invention of capitalist degeneracy, but a sign of great -psychological insecurity. The Russians have no masks, but they have -their own signs of stress. - -I went to the window and impatiently watched the darkness gather. I was -getting very restless. After a while a ghostly violet cloud appeared to -the south. My hair rose. Then I laughed. I had momentarily fancied it a -radiation from the crater of the Hell-bomb, though I should instantly -have known it was only the radio-induced glow in the sky over the -amusement and residential area south of Inferno. - -Promptly at twenty-two hours I stood before the door of my unknown girl -friend's apartment. The electronic say-who-please said just that. I -answered clearly, "Wysten Turner," wondering if she'd given my name to -the mechanism. She evidently had, for the door opened. I walked into a -small empty living room, my heart pounding a bit. - -The room was expensively furnished with the latest pneumatic hassocks -and sprawlers. There were some midgie books on the table. The one I -picked up was the standard hard-boiled detective story in which two -female murderers go gunning for each other. - -The television was on. A masked girl in green was crooning a love song. -Her right hand held something that blurred off into the foreground. -I saw the set had a handie, which we haven't in England as yet, and -curiously thrust my hand into the handie orifice beside the screen. -Contrary to my expectations, it was not like slipping into a pulsing -rubber glove, but rather as if the girl on the screen actually held my -hand. - -A door opened behind me. I jerked out my hand with as guilty a reaction -as if I'd been caught peering through a keyhole. - -She stood in the bedroom doorway. I think she was trembling. She was -wearing a gray fur coat, white-speckled, and a gray velvet evening -mask with shirred gray lace around the eyes and mouth. Her fingernails -twinkled like silver. - -It hadn't occurred to me that she'd expect us to go out. - -"I should have told you," she said softly. Her mask veered nervously -toward the books and the screen and the room's dark corners. "But I -can't possibly talk to you here." - -I said doubtfully, "There's a place near the Consulate...." - -"I know where we can be together and talk," she said rapidly. "If you -don't mind." - -As we entered the elevator I said, "I'm afraid I dismissed the cab." - - * * * * * - -But the cab driver hadn't gone for some reason of his own. He jumped -out and smirkingly held the front door open for us. I told him we -preferred to sit in back. He sulkily opened the rear door, slammed it -after us, jumped in front and slammed the door behind him. - -My companion leaned forward. "Heaven," she said. - -The driver switched on the turbine and televisor. - -"Why did you ask if I were a British subject?" I said, to start the -conversation. - -She leaned away from me, tilting her mask close to the window. "See the -Moon," she said in a quick, dreamy voice. - -"But why, really?" I pressed, conscious of an irritation that had -nothing to do with her. - -"It's edging up into the purple of the sky." - -"And what's your name?" - -"The purple makes it look yellower." - - * * * * * - -Just then I became aware of the source of my irritation. It lay in the -square of writhing light in the front of the cab beside the driver. - -I don't object to ordinary wrestling matches, though they bore me, but -I simply detest watching a man wrestle a woman. The fact that the bouts -are generally "on the level," with the man greatly outclassed in weight -and reach and the masked females young and personable, only makes them -seem worse to me. - -"Please turn off the screen," I requested the driver. - -He shook his head without looking around. "Uh-uh, man," he said. -"They've been grooming that babe for weeks for this bout with Little -Zirk." - -Infuriated, I reached forward, but my companion caught my arm. -"Please," she whispered frightenedly, shaking her head. - -I settled back, frustrated. She was closer to me now, but silent and -for a few moments I watched the heaves and contortions of the powerful -masked girl and her wiry masked opponent on the screen. His frantic -scrambling at her reminded me of a male spider. - -I jerked around, facing my companion. "Why did those three men want to -kill you?" I asked sharply. - -The eyeholes of her mask faced the screen. "Because they're jealous of -me," she whispered. - -"Why are they jealous?" - -She still didn't look at me. "Because of him." - -"Who?" - -She didn't answer. - -I put my arm around her shoulders. "Are you afraid to tell me?" I -asked. "What _is_ the matter?" - -She still didn't look my way. She smelled nice. - -"See here," I said laughingly, changing my tactics, "you really should -tell me something about yourself. I don't even know what you look like." - -I half playfully lifted my hand to the band of her neck. She gave it an -astonishingly swift slap. I pulled it away in sudden pain. There were -four tiny indentations on the back. From one of them a tiny bead of -blood welled out as I watched. I looked at her silver fingernails and -saw they were actually delicate and pointed metal caps. - -"I'm dreadfully sorry," I heard her say, "but you frightened me. I -thought for a moment you were going to...." - -At last she turned to me. Her coat had fallen open. Her evening dress -was Cretan Revival, a bodice of lace beneath and supporting the breasts -without covering them. - -"Don't be angry," she said, putting her arms around my neck. "You were -wonderful this afternoon." - -The soft gray velvet of her mask, molding itself to her cheek, pressed -mine. Through the mask's lace the wet warm tip of her tongue touched my -chin. - -"I'm not angry," I said. "Just puzzled and anxious to help." - -The cab stopped. To either side were black windows bordered by spears -of broken glass. The sickly purple light showed a few ragged figures -slowly moving toward us. - -The driver muttered, "It's the turbine, man. We're grounded." He sat -there hunched and motionless. "Wish it had happened somewhere else." - -My companion whispered, "Five dollars is the usual amount." - -She looked out so shudderingly at the congregating figures that I -suppressed my indignation and did as she suggested. The driver took the -bill without a word. As he started up, he put his hand out the window -and I heard a few coins clink on the pavement. - -My companion came back into my arms, but her mask faced the television -screen, where the tall girl had just pinned the convulsively kicking -Little Zirk. - -"I'm so frightened," she breathed. - - * * * * * - -Heaven turned out to be an equally ruinous neighborhood, but it had a -club with an awning and a huge doorman uniformed like a spaceman, but -in gaudy colors. In my sensuous daze I rather liked it all. We stepped -out of the cab just as a drunken old woman came down the sidewalk, -her mask awry. A couple ahead of us turned their heads from the half -revealed face, as if from an ugly body at the beach. As we followed -them in I heard the doorman say, "Get along, grandma, and watch -yourself." - -Inside, everything was dimness and blue glows. She had said we could -talk here, but I didn't see how. Besides the inevitable chorus of -sneezes and coughs (they say America is fifty per cent allergic -these days), there was a band going full blast in the latest robop -style, in which an electronic composing machine selects an arbitrary -sequence of tones into which the musicians weave their raucous little -individualities. - -Most of the people were in booths. The band was behind the bar. On a -small platform beside them, a girl was dancing, stripped to her mask. -The little cluster of men at the shadowy far end of the bar weren't -looking at her. - -We inspected the menu in gold script on the wall and pushed the buttons -for breast of chicken, fried shrimps and two scotches. Moments later, -the serving bell tinkled. I opened the gleaming panel and took out our -drinks. - - * * * * * - -The cluster of men at the bar filed off toward the door, but first they -stared around the room. My companion had just thrown back her coat. -Their look lingered on our booth. I noticed that there were three of -them. - -The band chased off the dancing girl with growls. I handed my companion -a straw and we sipped our drinks. - -"You wanted me to help you about something," I said. "Incidentally, I -think you're lovely." - -She nodded quick thanks, looked around, leaned forward. "Would it be -hard for me to get to England?" - -"No," I replied, a bit taken aback. "Provided you have an American -passport." - -"Are they difficult to get?" - -"Rather," I said, surprised at her lack of information. "Your country -doesn't like its nationals to travel, though it isn't quite as -stringent as Russia." - -"Could the British Consulate help me get a passport?" - -"It's hardly their...." - -"Could you?" - -I realized we were being inspected. A man and two girls had paused -opposite our table. The girls were tall and wolfish-looking, with -spangled masks. The man stood jauntily between them like a fox on its -hind legs. - -My companion didn't glance at them, but she sat back. I noticed that -one of the girls had a big yellow bruise on her forearm. After a moment -they walked to a booth in the deep shadows. - -"Know them?" I asked. She didn't reply. I finished my drink. "I'm not -sure you'd like England," I said. "The austerity's altogether different -from your American brand of misery." - -She leaned forward again. "But I must get away," she whispered. - -"Why?" I was getting impatient. - -"Because I'm so frightened." - -There were chimes. I opened the panel and handed her the fried shrimps. -The sauce on my breast of chicken was a delicious steaming compound of -almonds, soy and ginger. But something must have been wrong with the -radionic oven that had thawed and heated it, for at the first bite I -crunched a kernel of ice in the meat. These delicate mechanisms need -constant repair and there aren't enough mechanics. - -I put down my fork. "What are you really scared of?" I asked her. - -For once her mask didn't waver away from my face. As I waited I -could feel the fears gathering without her naming them, tiny dark -shapes swarming through the curved night outside, converging on the -radioactive pest spot of New York, dipping into the margins of the -purple. I felt a sudden rush of sympathy, a desire to protect the -girl opposite me. The warm feeling added itself to the infatuation -engendered in the cab. - -"Everything," she said finally. - -I nodded and touched her hand. - -"I'm afraid of the Moon," she began, her voice going dreamy and brittle -as it had in the cab. "You can't look at it and not think of guided -bombs." - -"It's the same Moon over England," I reminded her. - -"But it's not England's Moon any more. It's ours and Russia's. You're -not responsible." - -I pressed her hand. - -"Oh, and then," she said with a tilt of her mask, "I'm afraid of the -cars and the gangs and the loneliness and Inferno. I'm afraid of the -lust that undresses your face. And--" her voice hushed--"I'm afraid of -the wrestlers." - -"Yes?" I prompted softly after a moment. - - * * * * * - -Her mask came forward. "Do you know something about the wrestlers?" she -asked rapidly. "The ones that wrestle women, I mean. They often lose, -you know. And then they have to have a girl to take their frustration -out on. A girl who's soft and weak and terribly frightened. They need -that, to keep them men. Other men don't want them to have a girl. -Other men want them just to fight women and be heroes. But they must -have a girl. It's horrible for her." - -I squeezed her fingers tighter, as if courage could be -transmitted--granting I had any. "I think I can get you to England," I -said. - -Shadows crawled onto the table and stayed there. I looked up at the -three men who had been at the end of the bar. They were the men I had -seen in the big coupe. They wore black sweaters and close-fitting black -trousers. Their faces were as expressionless as dopers. Two of them -stood above me. The other loomed over the girl. - -"Drift off, man," I was told. I heard the other inform the girl: -"We'll wrestle a fall, sister. What shall it be? Judo, slapsie or -kill-who-can?" - -I stood up. There are times when an Englishman simply must be -mal-treated. But just then the foxlike man came gliding in like the -star of a ballet. The reaction of the other three startled me. They -were acutely embarrassed. - -He smiled at them thinly. "You won't win my favor by tricks like this," -he said. - -"Don't get the wrong idea, Zirk," one of them pleaded. - -"I will if it's right," he said. "She told me what you tried to do this -afternoon. That won't endear you to me, either. Drift." - -They backed off awkwardly. "Let's get out of here," one of them said -loudly, as they turned. "I know a place where they fight naked with -knives." - - * * * * * - -Little Zirk laughed musically and slipped into the seat beside my -companion. She shrank from him, just a little. I pushed my feet back, -leaned forward. - -"Who's your friend, baby?" he asked, not looking at her. - -She passed the question to me with a little gesture. I told him. - -"British," he observed. "She's been asking you about getting out of the -country? About passports?" He smiled pleasantly. "She likes to start -running away. Don't you, baby?" His small hand began to stroke her -wrist, the fingers bent a little, the tendons ridged, as if he were -about to grab and twist. - -"Look here," I said sharply. "I have to be grateful to you for ordering -off those bullies, but--" - -"Think nothing of it," he told me. "They're no harm except when they're -behind steering wheels. A well-trained fourteen-year-old girl could -cripple any one of them. Why, even Theda here, if she went in for that -sort of thing...." He turned to her, shifting his hand from her wrist -to her hair. He stroked it, letting the strands slip slowly through his -fingers. "You know I lost tonight, baby, don't you?" he said softly. - -I stood up. "Come along," I said to her. "Let's leave." - - * * * * * - -She just sat there. I couldn't even tell if she was trembling. I tried -to read a message in her eyes through the mask. - -"I'll take you away," I said to her. "I can do it. I really will." - -He smiled at me. "She'd like to go with you," he said. "Wouldn't you, -baby?" - -"Will you or won't you?" I said to her. She still just sat there. - -He slowly knotted his fingers in her hair. - -"Listen, you little vermin," I snapped at him, "Take your hands off -her." - -He came up from the seat like a snake. I'm no fighter. I just know that -the more scared I am, the harder and straighter I hit. This time I was -lucky. But as he crumpled back, I felt a slap and four stabs of pain in -my cheek. I clapped my hand to it. I could feel the four gashes made by -her dagger finger caps, and the warm blood oozing out from them. - -She didn't look at me. She was bending over little Zirk and cuddling -her mask to his cheek and crooning: "There, there, don't feel bad, -you'll be able to hurt me afterward." - -There were sounds around us, but they didn't come close. I leaned -forward and ripped the mask from her face. - -I really don't know why I should have expected her face to be anything -else. It was very pale, of course, and there weren't any cosmetics. I -suppose there's no point in wearing any under a mask. The eye-brows -were untidy and the lips chapped. But as for the general expression, as -for the feelings crawling and wriggling across it-- - -Have you ever lifted a rock from damp soil? Have you ever watched the -slimy white grubs? - -I looked down at her, she up at me. "Yes, you're so frightened, aren't -you?" I said sarcastically. "You dread this little nightly drama, don't -you? You're scared to death." - -And I walked right out into the purple night, still holding my hand -to my bleeding cheek. No one stopped me, not even the girl wrestlers. -I wished I could tear a tab from under my shirt, and test it then and -there, and find I'd taken too much radiation, and so be able to ask to -cross the Hudson and go down New Jersey, past the lingering radiance of -the Narrows Bomb, and so on to Sandy Hook to wait for the rusty ship -that would take me back over the seas to England. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Coming Attraction, by Fritz Leiber - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK COMING ATTRACTION *** - -***** This file should be named 51082.txt or 51082.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/1/0/8/51082/ - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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