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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..89cb01c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68374 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68374) diff --git a/old/68374-0.txt b/old/68374-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f375972..0000000 --- a/old/68374-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1221 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Friends and Enemies, 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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Friends and Enemies - -Author: Fritz Leiber - -Release Date: June 22, 2022 [eBook #68374] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRIENDS AND ENEMIES *** - - - - - - FRIENDS AND ENEMIES - - By FRITZ LEIBER - - Illustrated by ENGLE - - _In a world blasted by super-bombs - and run by super-thugs, Art vs. - Science can be a deadly debate!_ - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Infinity, April 1957. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -The sun hadn't quite risen, but now that the five men were out from -under the trees it already felt hot. Far ahead, off to the left of -the road, the spires of New Angeles gleamed dusky blue against the -departing night. The two unarmed men gazed back wistfully at the little -town, dark and asleep under its moist leafy umbrellas. The one who was -thin and had hair flecked with gray looked all intellect; the other, -young and with a curly mop, looked all feeling. - -The fat man barring their way back to town mopped his head. The two -young men flanking him with shotgun and squirtgun hadn't started to -sweat yet. - -The fat man stuffed the big handkerchief back in his pocket, wiped his -hands on his shirt, rested his wrists lightly on the pistols holstered -either side his stomach, looked at the two unarmed men, indicated the -hot road with a nod, and said, "There's your way, professors. Get -going." - -The thin man looked at the hand-smears on the fat man's shirt. "But -you haven't even explained to me," he protested softly, "why I'm being -turned out of Ozona College." - -"Look here, Mr. Ellenby, I've tried to make it easy for you," the fat -man said. "I'm doing it before the town wakes up. Would you rather be -chased by a mob?" - -"But why--?" - -"Because we found out you weren't just a math teacher, Mr. Ellenby." -The fat man's voice went hard. "You'd been a physicist once. _Nu_clear -physicist." - -The young man with the shotgun spat. Ellenby watched the spittle curl -in the dust like a little brown worm. He shifted his gaze to a dead -eucalyptus leaf. "I'd like to talk to the college board of regents," he -said tonelessly. - -"I'm the board of regents," the fat man told him. "Didn't you even know -that?" - -At this point the other unarmed man spoke up loudly. "But that doesn't -explain my case. I've devoted my whole life to warning people against -physicists and other scientists. How they'd smash us with their bombs. -How they were destroying our minds with 3D and telefax and handies. How -they were blaspheming against Nature, killing all imagination, crushing -all beauty out of life!" - -"I'd shut my mouth if I were you, Madson," the fat man said critically, -"or at least lower my voice. When I mentioned a mob, I wasn't fooling. -I saw them burn Cal Tech. In fact, I got a bit excited and helped." - -The young man with the shotgun grinned. - -"Cal Tech," Ellenby murmured, his eyes growing distant. "Cal Tech burns -and Ozona stands." - -"Ozona stands for the decencies of life," the fat man grated, "not -alphabet bombs and pituitary gas. Its purpose is to save a town, not -help kill a world." - -"But why should _I_ be driven out?" Madson persisted. "I'm just a poet -singing the beauties of the simple life unmarred by science." - -"Not simple enough for Ozona!" the fat man snorted. "We happen to know, -Mr. Poet Madson, that you've written some stories about free love. We -don't want anyone telling Ozona girls it's all right to be careless." - -"But those were just ideas, ideas in a story," Madson protested. "I -wasn't advocating--" - -"No difference," the fat man cut him short. "Talk to a woman about -ideas and pretty soon she gets some." His voice became almost kindly. -"Look here, if you wanted a woman without getting hitched to her, why -didn't you go to shantytown?" - -Madson squared his shoulders. "You've missed the whole point. I'd never -do such a thing. I never have." - -"Then you shouldn't have boasted," the fat man said. "And you shouldn't -have fooled around with Councilman Classen's daughter." - -At the name, Ellenby came out of his trance and looked sharply -at Madson, who said indignantly, "I wasn't fooling around with -Vera-Ellen, whatever her crazy father says. She came to my office -because she has poetic ability and I wanted to encourage it." - -"Yeah, so she'd encourage you," the fat man finished. "That girl's wild -enough already, which I suppose is what you mean by poetic ability. And -in this town, her father's word counts." He hitched up his belt. "And -now, professors, it's time you started." - -Madson and Ellenby looked at each other doubtfully. The young man with -the squirtgun raised its acid-etched muzzle. The fat man looked hard at -Madson and Ellenby. "I think I hear alarm clocks going off," he said -quietly. - -They watched the two men trudge a hundred yards, watched Ellenby shift -the rolled-up towel under his elbow to the other side, watched Madson -pause to thumb tobacco into a pipe and glance carelessly back, then -shove the pipe in his pocket and go on hurriedly. - -"Couple of pretty harmless coots, if you ask me," the young man with -the shotgun observed. - -"Sure," the fat man agreed, "but we got to remember peoples' feelings -and keep Ozona straight. We don't like mobs or fear _or_ girls gone -wild." - -The young man with the shotgun grinned. "That Vera-Ellen," he murmured, -shaking his head. - -"You better keep _your_ mind off her too," the fat man said sourly. -"She's wild enough without anybody to encourage her poetic ability -or anything else. It's a good thing we gave those two their walking -papers." - -"They'll probably walk right into the arms of the Harvey gang," the -young man with the squirtgun remarked, "especially if they try to -short-cut." - -"Pretty small pickings for Harvey, those two," the young man with the -shotgun countered. "Which won't please him at all." - -The fat man shrugged. "Their own fault. If only they'd had sense enough -to keep their mouths shut. Early in life." - -"They don't seem to realize it's 1993," said the young man with the -shotgun. - -The fat man nodded. "Come on," he said, turning back toward the town -and the coolness. "We've done our duty." - -The young man with the squirtgun took a last look. "There they go, -Art and Science," he observed with satisfaction. "Those two subjects -always did make my head ache." - - * * * * * - -On the hot road Madson began to stride briskly. His nostrils flared. -"Smell the morning air," he commanded. "It's good, good!" - -Ellenby, matching his stride with longer if older legs, looked at him -with mild wonder. - -"Smell the hot sour grass," Madson continued. "It's things like this -man was meant for, not machines and formulas. Look at the dew. Have you -seen the dew in years? Look at it on that spiderweb!" - -The physicist paused obediently to observe the softly twinkling -strands. "Perfect catenaries," he murmured. - -"What?" - -"A kind of curve," Ellenby explained. "The locus of the focus of a -parabola rolling on a straight line." - -"Locus-focus hocus-pocus!" Madson snorted. "Reducing the wonders of -Nature to chalk marks. It's disgusting." - -Suddenly each tiny drop of dew turned blood-red. Ellenby turned his -back on the spiderweb, whipped a crooked little brass tube from an -inside pocket and squinted through it. - -"What's that?" Madson asked. - -"Spectroscope," Ellenby explained. "Early morning spectra of the sun -are fascinating." - -Madson huffed. "There you go. Analyzing. Tearing beauty apart. It's a -disease." He paused. "Say, won't you hurt your eyes?" - -Turning back, Ellenby shook his head. "I keep a smoked glass on it," he -said. "I'm always hoping that some day I'll get a glimpse of an atomic -bomb explosion." - -"You mean to say you've missed all the dozens they dropped on this -country? That's too bad." - -"The ball of fire's quite fleeting. The opportunities haven't been as -good as you think." - -"But you're a physicist, aren't you? Don't you people have all sorts of -lovely photographs to gloat over in your laboratories?" - -"Atomic bomb spectra were never declassified," Ellenby told him -wistfully. "At least not in my part of the project. I've never seen -one." - -"Well, you'll probably get your chance," Madson told him harshly. "If -you've been reading your dirty telefax, you'll know the Hot Truce is -coming to a boil. And the Angeles area will be a prime target." Ellenby -nodded mutely. - -They trudged on. The sun began to beat on their backs like an -open fire. Ellenby turned up his collar. He watched his companion -thoughtfully. Finally he said, "So you're the Madson who wrote those -_Enemies of Science_ stories about a world ruled by poets. It never -occurred to me back at Ozona. And that non-fiction book about us--what -was it called?" - -"_Murderers of Imagination_," Madson growled. "And it would have been -a good thing if you'd listened to my warnings instead of going on -building machines and dissecting Nature and destroying all the lovely -myths that make life worthwhile." - -"Are you sure that Nature is so lovely and kind?" Ellenby ventured. -Madson did not deign to answer. - -They passed a crossroad leading, the battered sign said, one way to -Palmdale, the other to San Bernardino. They were perhaps a hundred -yards beyond it when Ellenby let go a little chuckle. "I have a -confession to make. When I was very young I wrote an article about -how children shouldn't be taught the Santa Claus myth or any similar -fictions." - -Madson laughed sardonically. "A perfect member of your dry-souled -tribe! Worrying about Santa Claus, when all the while something very -different was about to come flying down from over the North Pole and -land on our housetops." - -"We did try to warn people about the intercontinental missiles," -Ellenby reminded him. - -"Yes, without any success. The last two reindeer--Donner and Blitzen!" - -Ellenby nodded glumly, but he couldn't keep a smile off his face for -long. "I wrote another article too--it was never published--about how -poetry is completely pointless, how rhymes inevitably distort meanings, -and so on." - -Madson whirled on him with a peal of laughter. "So you even thought you -were big enough to wreck poetry!" He jerked a limp, thinnish volume -from his coat pocket. "You thought you could destroy this!" - -Ellenby's expression changed. He reached for the book, but Madson held -it away from him. Ellenby said, "That's Keats, isn't it?" - -"How would you know?" - -Ellenby hesitated. "Oh, I got to like some of his poetry, quite a -while after I wrote the article." He paused again and looked squarely -at Madson. "Also, Vera-Ellen was reading me some pieces out of that -volume. I guess you'd loaned it to her." - -"Vera-Ellen?" Madson's jaw dropped. - -Ellenby nodded. "She had trouble with her geometry. Some conferences -were necessary." He smiled. "We physicists aren't such a dry-souled -tribe, you know." - -Madson looked outraged. "Why, you're old enough to be her father!" - -"Or her husband," Ellenby replied coolly. "Young women are often -attracted to father images. But all that can't make any difference to -us now." - -"You're right," Madson said shortly. He shoved the poetry volume back -in his pocket, flirted the sweat out of his eyes, and looked around -with impatience. "Say, you're going to New Angeles, aren't you?" he -asked, and when Ellenby nodded uncertainly, said, "Then let's cut -across the fields. This road is taking us out of our way." And without -waiting for a reply he jumped across the little ditch to the left of -the road and into the yellowing wheat field. Ellenby watched him for -a moment, then hitched his rolled towel further up under his arm and -followed. - - * * * * * - -It was stifling in the field. The wheat seemed to paralyze any stray -breezes. Their boots hissed against the dry stems. Far off they heard -a lazy drumming. After a while they came to a wide, brimful irrigation -ditch. They could see that some hundreds of feet ahead it was crossed -by a little bridge. They followed the ditch. - -Ellenby felt strangely giddy, as if he were looking at everything -through a microscope. That may have been due to the tremendous size of -the wheat, its spikes almost as big as corncobs, the spikelets bigger -than kernels--rich orange stuff taut with flour. But then they came to -a section marred by larger and larger splotches of a powdery purple -blight. - -The lazy drumming became louder. Ellenby was the first to see the -low-swinging helicopter with its thick, trailing plume of greenish -mist. He knocked Madson on the shoulder and both men started to run. -Purple dust puffed. Once Ellenby stumbled and Madson stopped to jerk -him to his feet. Still they would have escaped except that the copter -swerved toward them. A moment later they were enveloped in sweet oily -fumes. - -Madson heard jeering laughter, glimpsed a grotesquely long-nosed face -peering down from above. Then, through the cloud, Ellenby squeaked, -"Don't breathe!" and Madson felt himself dragged roughly into the -ditch. The water closed over him with a splash. - -Puffing and blowing, he came to his feet--the water hardly reached his -waist--to find himself being dragged by Ellenby toward the bridge. It -was all he could do to keep his footing on the muddy bottom. By the -time he got breath enough to voice his indignation, Ellenby was saying, -"That's far enough. The stuff's settling away from us. Now strip and -scrub yourself." - -Ellenby unrolled the towel he'd held tightly clutched to his side all -the while, and produced a bar of soap. In response to Madson's question -he explained, "That fungicide was probably TTTR or some other relative -of the nerve-gas family. They are absorbed through the skin." - -Seconds later Madson was scouring his head and chest. He hesitated -at his trousers, muttering, "They'll probably have me for indecent -exposure. Claim I was trying to start a nudist colony as well as a -free-love cult." But Ellenby's warning had been a chilly one. - -Ellenby soaped Madson's back and he in turn soaped the older man's -ridgy one. - -"I suppose that's why he had an elephant's nose," Madson mused. - -"What?" - -"Man in the copter," Madson explained. "Wearing a respirator." - -Ellenby nodded and made them move nearer the bridge for a change of -water. - -They started to scrub their clothes, rinse and wring them, and lay -them on the bank to dry. They watched the copter buzzing along in -the distance, but it didn't seem inclined to come near again. Madson -felt impelled to say, "You know, it's your chemist friends who have -introduced that viciousness into the common man's spirit, giving him -horrible poisons to use against Nature. Otherwise he wouldn't have -tried to douse us with that stuff." - -"He just acted like an ordinary farmer to me," Ellenby replied, -scrubbing vigorously. - -"Think we're safe?" Madson asked. - -Ellenby shrugged. "We'll discover," he said briefly. - - * * * * * - -Madson shivered, but the rhythmic job was soothing. After a bit he -began to feel almost playful. Lathering his shirt, he got some fine -large bubbles, held them so he could see their colors flow in the -sunlight. - -"Tiny perfect worlds of every hue," he murmured. "Violet, blue, green, -yellow, orange, red." - -"And dead black," Ellenby added. - -"You would say something like that!" Madson grunted. "What did you -think I was talking about?" - -"Bubbles." - -"Maybe some of your friends' poisons have black bubbles," Madson said -bitingly. "But I was talking about these." - -"So was I. Give me your pipe." - -The authority in Ellenby's voice made Madson look around startledly. -"Give me your pipe," Ellenby repeated firmly, holding out his hand. - -Madson fished it out of the pocket of the trousers he was about to wash -and handed it over. Ellenby knocked out the soggy tobacco, swished it -in the water a few times, and began to soap the inside of the bowl. - -Madson started to object, but, "You'd be washing it anyway," Ellenby -assured him. "Now look here, Madson, I'm going to blow a bubble and I -want you to watch, I want you to observe Nature for all you're worth. -If poets and physicists have one thing in common it's that they're both -supposed to be able to observe. Accurately." - -He took a breath. "Now see, I'm going to hold the pipe mouth down and -let the bubble hang from it, but with one side of the bowl tipped up a -bit, so that the strain on the bubble's skin will be greatest on that -side." - -He blew a big bubble, held the pipe with one hand and pointed with -a finger of the other. "There's the place to watch now. There!" The -bubble burst. - -"What was that?" Madson asked in a new voice. "It really was black for -an instant, dull like soot." - -"A bubble bursts because its skin gets thinner and thinner," Ellenby -said. "When it gets thin enough it shows colors, as interference -eliminates different wavelengths. With yellow eliminated it shows -violet, and so on. But finally, just for a moment at the place where -it's going to break, the skin becomes only one molecule thick. Such a -mono-molecular layer absorbs all light, hence shows as dead black." - -"Everything's got a black lining, eh?" - -"Black can be beautiful. Here, I'll do it again." - -Madson put his hand on Ellenby's shoulder to steady himself. They were -standing hip-deep in water, their bodies still flecked with suds. Their -heads were inches from the new bubble. As it burst a voice floated down -to them. - -"Is this the Ozona Faculty Kindergarten?" - -They whirled around, simultaneously crouching in the water. - -"Vera-Ellen, what are you doing here?" Madson demanded. - -"Watching the kiddies play," the girl on the bridge replied, running a -hand through her touseled violet hair. She looked down at her slacks -and jacket. "Wish I'd brought my swim suit, though I gather it wouldn't -be expected." - -"Vera-Ellen!" Madson said apprehensively. - -"It doesn't look very inviting down there, though," she mused. "Guess -I'll wait for Aqua Heaven at New Angeles." - -"You're going to New Angeles?" Ellenby put in. It is not easy to be -conversationally brilliant while squatting chest deep in muddy water, -acutely conscious of the absence of clothes. - -Vera-Ellen nodded lazily, leaning on the railing. "Going to get me a -city job. With its reduced faculty Ozona holds no more intellectual -interest for me. Did you know math's going to be made part of the Home -Eck department, Mr. Ellenby?" - -"But how did you know that we--" - -"Daughter of the man who got you run out of town ought to know what the -old bully's up to. And if you're worrying that they'll come after me -and find us together, I'll just head along by myself." - -Madson and Ellenby both protested, though it is even harder to protest -effectively than to be conversationally brilliant while squatting naked -in coffee-colored water. - -Vera-Ellen said, "All right, so quit playing and let's get on. You have -to tell me all about New Angeles and the kind of jobs we'll get." - -"But--?" - -"Modest, eh? I'm afraid Pa wouldn't count it in your favor. But all -right." She turned her back and sauntered to the other side of the -bridge. - - * * * * * - -Madson and Ellenby cautiously climbed out of the ditch, brushed the -water from their skins, and wormed into their soggy clothes. - -"We've got to persuade her to go back," Madson whispered. - -"Vera-Ellen?" Ellenby replied and raised his eyebrows. - -Madson groaned softly. - -"Cheer up," Ellenby said. And he seemed in a cheerful humor himself -when they climbed to the bridge. "Vera-Ellen," he said, "we've been -having an argument as to whether man ruined Nature or Nature ruined man -to start with." - -"Is this a class, Mr. Ellenby?" - -"Of sorts," he told her. Behind him Madson snorted, flipping his Keats -to dry the pages. They started off together. - -"Well," said Vera-Ellen, "I like Nature and I like ... human beings. -And I don't feel ruined at all. Where's the argument?" - -"What about the bombs?" Madson demanded automatically. "By man our -physicist here means Technology. Whereas I mean--" - -"Oh, the bombs," she said with a shrug. "What sort of job do you think -I should get in New Angeles?" - -"Well ..." Madson began. - -"Say, I'm getting hungry," she raced on, turning to Ellenby. - -"So am I," he agreed. - -They looked at the road ahead. A jagged hill now hid all but the tips -of the spires of New Angeles. On the top of the hill was a tremendous -house with sagging roofs of cracked tiles, stucco walls dark with rain -stains and green with moss yet also showing cracks, and windows of -age-blued glass, some splintered, flashing in the sun, which tempted -Ellenby to whip out his spectroscope. - -Curving down from the house came a weedy and balding expanse that had -obviously once been a well-tended lawn. A few stalwart patches of thick -grass held out tenaciously. - -Pale-trunked eucalyptus trees towered behind the house and to either -side of the road where it curved over the hill. - -In a hollow at the foot of the one-time lawn, just where it met the -road, something gleamed. As Madson, Ellenby and Vera-Ellen tramped -forward, they saw it was an old automobile, one of the jet antiques -that were the rage around 1970--in fact, a Lunar '69. Coming closer -Ellenby realized that it had custom-built features, such as jet brakes -and collision springs. - -A man with an odd cap was poking a probe into the air intake, while in -the back seat a woman was sitting, shadowed by a hat four feet across. -At the sound of their footsteps the man whirled to his feet, quickly -enough though unsteadily. He stared at them, wagging the probe. Just -at that moment something that looked like an animated orange furpiece -leaped from the tonneau. - -"George!" the woman cried. "Widgie's got away." - -The small flattish creature came on in undulating bounds. It was past -the man in the cap before he could turn. It headed for Ellenby, then -changed direction. Madson made an impulsive dive for it, but it widened -itself still more and sailed over him straight into Vera-Ellen's arms. - -They walked toward the car. Widgie wriggled, Vera-Ellen stroked his -ears. He seemed to be a flying fox of some sort. The man eyed them -hostilely, raising the probe. Madson stared puzzledly at the cap. Out -of his older knowledge Ellenby whispered an explanation: "Chauffeur." - -The woman stood in the back seat, swaying slightly. She was wearing a -white swim suit and dark teleglasses under her hat. At first she seemed -a somewhat ravaged thirty. Then they began to see the rest of the -wrinkles. - - * * * * * - -She received Widgie from Vera-Ellen, shook him out and tucked him under -her arm, where he hung limply, moving his tiny red eyes. - -"Come in with me, my dear," she told Vera-Ellen. "George, put down -that crazy pole. Pay no attention to George--he can't recognize -gentlefolk when he sees them, especially when he's drunk. Gentlemen," -she continued, waving graciously to Madson and Ellenby, "you have the -thanks of Rickie Vickson." As she pronounced the name she surveyed them -sharply. Her gaze settled on Ellenby. "You know me, don't you?" - -"Certainly," he answered instantly. "You were my first--my favorite -straight 3D star." - -"Are you in 3D?" Vera-Ellen asked, a sudden gleam in her eyes. - -"Was, my dear," Rickie said grandly. She ogled Ellenby through the -fish-eye glasses. "Ah, straight 3D," she sighed. "Simple video-audio -in depth--there was a great art-form." She began to sway again and -they caught the reek of alcohol. "You know, gentlemen, it was handies -that ruined my career. I had the looks and the voice, but I lacked -the touch. Something in me shrank from the whole idea--be still, -Widgie--and the girls with itchy fingers took over. But I'm talking -too much about myself. It's hot and you wonderful gentlemen must be -thirsty. Here, have a--" - -The chauffeur glared at her as she reached fumblingly down into the -tonneau. She caught the look and quailed slightly. - -"--sandwich," she finished, coming up with a shiny can. - -Madson accepted it from her, clicking the catch. The top popped four -feet in the air, followed lazily by the uppermost sandwich which he -caught deftly. He handed the can to Ellenby, who served himself and -handed it up to Vera-Ellen. Soon all three of them were munching. - -"Miss Vickson," Vera-Ellen asked between mouthfuls, "do you think I -could get a job in broadcast entertainment?" - -Rickie looked at her sideways, leaning away to focus. "Not with that -ghastly atomglow hair," she said. "Violet is old hat this year--it's -either black, blonde or bald. But give me your hand, my dear." - -"Going to tell my fortune?" - -"After a fashion." She held up Vera-Ellen's hand, squeezing and -prodding it thoughtfully, as if she were testing the carcass of an -alleged spring chicken. Then she nodded. "You'll do. Good strong hand, -that's all that's needed, so you can really crunch the knuckles of -the bohunks. They love it rough. Of course the technicians could step -up the power when they broadcast your hand-squeeze, but the addicts -don't feel it's the same thing." She looked sourly at her own delicate -claws. "Yes, my dear, you'll have a chance in handies if you don't -mind cuddling with two million dirty-minded bohunks every night and if -Rickie Vickson's still got any entree at the studios." She made a face -and dipped again into the tonneau, apparently to gulp something, for -the chauffeur's glare was intensified. - -"You're from New Angeles?" Madson asked politely when Rickie came up -beaming. - -"Old Angeles," she corrected. "My home's in a contaminated area. After -3D lighting I've never been afraid of hard radiations. But this time my -psychic counselor told me--Widgie, I'm going to put you away in a nice -little urn--that the bombs are going to miss New Angeles and fall on -Old. That's why George is jetting me to the mountains. Others drink to -still their fears. I do something about it--too." - -"You mean you're going _away_ from the studio?" Vera-Ellen demanded -incredulously while Ellenby mumbled "Bombs?" through a mouthful of -sandwich. - -"Of course," Rickie nodded. "Don't you know? Russia's touched a match -to the Hot Truce. You charming gentlemen should keep up with these -things." - -"You see, I told you!" Madson said to Ellenby. "One more victory for -science!" - -"Miss Vickson, we better be getting on," the chauffeur interrupted, -speaking for the first time. His voice was drunkenly thick. "We aren't -out of the fusion fringe by a long shot and I don't like the looks of -this place." - -Rickie ignored him. Ellenby asked, "Was the news about Russia -telefaxed?" - -"Of course not." Rickie's smile was scornful. "They never tell the real -truth these days. But they said to get out of our houses, and what else -could that mean?" - -"Miss Vickson, we better--" George began again. - -"Quiet, George," Rickie ordered. - -George groaned faintly, shrugged his shoulders, and reached out an arm -to her without looking. Rickie handed him a red, limp plastic bottle. -Just as he was putting it to his lips, he jerked as if stung, vaulted -into the car, and began to stamp and punch at the controls. - -With a mighty _pouf_ the jet took hold. Ellenby skittered away from the -hot blast. The Lunar '69 jumped forward. - - * * * * * - -Things hissed and snicked through the air. From nowhere, men began to -appear. With a great lurch the car gained the road, roared toward the -bridge. Vera-Ellen jumped up as if to get out, then was thrown back -into the tonneau. Rickie lunged forward across the seat to save the red -bottle. Her four-foot hat leaped upward, hesitated, and then spun off -like a flying saucer. - -A man rose from the wheat near the bridge. As the car jounced across -it, he leveled a rapid-fire weapon. But just as he got it trained on -the car, Rickie's hat landed on him. He went over backwards, firing at -the sky. - -Madson and Ellenby looked around in bewilderment. There must have been -a dozen men. As they stared, another bunch came hurrying down the -ruined lawn from the house on the hill. - -The man by the bridge got up, went over to Rickie's hat and stamped on -it. - -Madson and Ellenby jumped as the sky-climbing missiles from his gun -pattered down around them. When they looked around again, the men from -the house on the hill were closing in. - -Their leader was about five feet tall, but thick. His head had been -formed in a bullet mold, his features looked drop-forged. - -"I'm Harvey," he told them blankly. "What you got?" - -Harvey's people wore everything from evening dress to shorts. There -were even two women (who drifted toward Harvey) one in a gold kimono, -the other in an off-the-bosom frock of filthy white lace. Everybody was -armed. - -"What you got?" Harvey repeated sharply. "I know you're loaded, I saw -you talking with that rich-witch in the jet." He looked them over and -grabbed at Madson's side pocket. "Books, huh?" he said like a hangman, -dangling the Keats by a stray page. Then he turned to Ellenby. "Come -on, Skinny," he said, "shell out." - -When Ellenby hesitated, two of Harvey's men grabbed him, dumped him, -and passed the contents of his pockets to their chief. When the -spectroscope turned up, Harvey grinned. The eyes of his people twinkled -in anticipation. - -"Science gadget, huh?" he said. "Folks, there's been too much science -in the world and too many words. Any minute now, more bombs are gonna -fall. I do my humble bit to help 'em. I'm a great little junkman." He -let the brass tube fall to the ground and lifted his foot. "Blow it a -good-bye kiss, Skinny." - -"Wait," Madson said abruptly, taking a step toward Harvey. "Don't do -it." Then the poet's eyes grew wide and alarmed, as if he hadn't known -he was going to say it. - -Breaths sucked in around them. Harvey's turret head slowly turned -toward Madson, its expression seemingly vacuous. "Why not?" Harvey -whispered. - -"Don't pay any attention to my friend," Ellenby interjected rapidly. -"He just said that on account of me. Actually he hates science as much -as you do. Don't--" - -"Shaddup!" Harvey roared. Then his voice instantly went low again. -"Ain't nobody hates science more'n me, but ain't nobody tells me so. -Shoulda kept your mouth shut, Skinny. Now there's gonna be more'n -gadgets stomped, more'n books tore." - - * * * * * - -Silence came except for the faint sucks of breath, the faint scuffle -of shoes on grit as Harvey's people slowly moved in. Ellenby stood -helplessly, yet at the same time he felt a widening and intensification -of his sensory powers. He was aware of the delicately lace-edged tree -shadows cast from the hill ahead by the westering sun. At the other -limit of his vision the copter no longer trailed its green caterpillar; -for some reason it was buzzing closer along the road. At the same time -he was conscious with a feverish clarity of the page by which Harvey -dangled the Keats, and without reading the words he saw the lines: - - _Beauty is truth, truth beauty--that is all - Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know._ - -Suddenly the slowly advancing faces seemed to freeze and Ellenby was -aware of something spectral and ominous about the yellowing sunlight -and the whole acid-etched scene around him. It was something more than -the physical threat to him and Madson--it was something that seemed to -well up menacingly from the ground under his feet. - -There was a sudden faint thunder and even as something inside Ellenby -said, "That isn't it, that isn't what the sky's waiting for," he saw -the chrome muzzle of the Lunar '69 bulleting toward them across the -bridge with Vera-Ellen's violet mop above the wheel. - -But even as the braking blasts gouted out redly from under the hood and -the car crunched toward a stop in their midst, even as Harvey's people -broke to either side and pistols popped with queerly toylike reports, -the thunder multiplied until it was impossible that the Lunar '69 was -causing it, until it was like the thunder of a thousand invisible jets -crushing the air around them. The sky shifted, rocked. The road shook. -There came a shock that numbed Ellenby's feet and sent everyone around -him reeling, and a pounding, smashing sound that made any remembered -noise seem puny. - -The Lunar '69, which had stopped a dozen feet from Ellenby, was -pitching and tossing like a silver ship in a storm. Vera-Ellen was -gripping the steering wheel with one hand and motioning to him -frantically with the other. In the seat beyond her Rickie Vickson was -jouncing as if in a merry-go-round chariot. - -Ellenby lurched as a hand clutched his shoulder and a staggering Madson -howled in his ear through the tumult, "Now you've got your rotten -bombs!" Between him and the car Harvey's bullet head reared up and as -suddenly dropped away. Looking down, Ellenby saw that a chasm four feet -wide had split the road between him and the car. Its walls were raw, -smoking earth and rock. Down it Ellenby saw vanishing, in one frozen -moment, Harvey and the Keats and the little brass spectroscope. - -Then Ellenby realized he had grabbed Madson by the shoulder and thrown -the two of them forward and shouted "Jump!" For a moment the chasm -gaped beneath them and a white little face stared upward. Then the -chasm closed with a giant crunch and Ellenby's hand caught the side of -the heaving car and he pitched into the back seat. - -Through the diminishing thunder and shaking there came the toy roar -of the car's jet and a new movement tipped him backward and he was -looking toward the hill and it was getting bigger. He tried to put his -feet down and felt something bulk under them. For a moment he thought -it was Madson, but Madson was beside him on the seat, and then he -saw it was George. He looked up and Rickie Vickson was watching him -from where she was crouched in the front seat, her eyes without the -teleglasses looking as foxy as Widgie's, whom she was holding close to -her wrinkle-etched cheek. - -"Vera-Ellen had to conk him," she explained, her gaze dipping to -George. "The bum tried to betray us." - -The pitching of the car had given way to a steady forward lunge. -Ellenby nodded dully at Rickie and hitched himself around and looked -back. - -Harvey's people were scattering like ants through a dust cloud rising -from the road. - -The house on the hill still stood, though there were more and larger -cracks in it and a nimbus of whiter dust around it. - -By the bridge the copter had crashed and was flaming brightly. A tiny -figure was running away from it. - - * * * * * - -Ellenby's face slowly lightened with understanding. - -"We were on the San Andreas Rift," he said softly. "Madson, that wasn't -the bombs at all. That wasn't Technology or Man." A smile trembled on -his lips. "That was Nature. An earthquake." - -Madson was the first to comment. "All right," he said, "it was -Nature--Nature showing her disgust for Man." - -"An idea like that is the sheerest animism," Ellenby reacted -automatically. "Now if you try analyzing--" - -"Analyzing!" Madson snorted with a touch of the old fire. "You -scientists are always--" - -"Whoa, boys," Rickie Vickson interrupted. "If it hadn't been for that -little quake to confuse things, Vera-Ellen couldn't have snatched you -out no matter how pretty she tried. And I'm in no mood for arguments -now. I'm not the arty type and all the science I know is what my -psychic counselor tells me. Widgie, quit pounding your heart; it's all -over now." - -Ellenby touched her arm. "Do I understand," he asked, "that Vera-Ellen -made you turn back just to save us?" - -"Of course not," Rickie assured him. "Her father and his pals tried to -stop us a couple of miles back. They'd been radioed by a farmer in a -copter and had the road blocked. George wanted to hand you all over to -Vera-Ellen's father, but we conked George--he's such a weakling--and -got away. Picking you up was an afterthought." - -Vera-Ellen flashed a wicked smile over her shoulder. - -Ellenby realized he was feeling vastly contented. He started to lift -his feet off George, then settled them more comfortably. He looked at -the violet-topped new chauffeur handling the Lunar as if she'd never -done anything else, and she picked that moment to flash him another -half friendly, half insulting grin. He nudged Madson and said, "We'll -continue our argument later--_all_ our argument." Madson looked at him -sharply and almost grinned too. Ellenby wondered idly what jobs they -had for poets and physicists in 3D and handie studios. - -Rickie Vickson's eyes widened. "Say," she said, "if they were just -warning us about that little old earthquake, then Old Angeles isn't -radioactive--I mean any _more_ radioactive than it's ever been." - -"Oh boy," Vera-Ellen crowed as the car topped the hill and the blue -spires came back in sight, "New Angeles, here we come." - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRIENDS AND ENEMIES *** - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Friends and Enemies</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Fritz Leiber</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 22, 2022 [eBook #68374]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRIENDS AND ENEMIES ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>FRIENDS AND ENEMIES</h1> - -<h2>By FRITZ LEIBER</h2> - -<p>Illustrated by ENGLE</p> - -<p><i>In a world blasted by super-bombs<br /> -and run by super-thugs, Art vs.<br /> -Science can be a deadly debate!</i></p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Infinity, April 1957.<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>The sun hadn't quite risen, but now that the five men were out from -under the trees it already felt hot. Far ahead, off to the left of -the road, the spires of New Angeles gleamed dusky blue against the -departing night. The two unarmed men gazed back wistfully at the little -town, dark and asleep under its moist leafy umbrellas. The one who was -thin and had hair flecked with gray looked all intellect; the other, -young and with a curly mop, looked all feeling.</p> - -<p>The fat man barring their way back to town mopped his head. The two -young men flanking him with shotgun and squirtgun hadn't started to -sweat yet.</p> - -<p>The fat man stuffed the big handkerchief back in his pocket, wiped his -hands on his shirt, rested his wrists lightly on the pistols holstered -either side his stomach, looked at the two unarmed men, indicated the -hot road with a nod, and said, "There's your way, professors. Get -going."</p> - -<p>The thin man looked at the hand-smears on the fat man's shirt. "But -you haven't even explained to me," he protested softly, "why I'm being -turned out of Ozona College."</p> - -<p>"Look here, Mr. Ellenby, I've tried to make it easy for you," the fat -man said. "I'm doing it before the town wakes up. Would you rather be -chased by a mob?"</p> - -<p>"But why—?"</p> - -<p>"Because we found out you weren't just a math teacher, Mr. Ellenby." -The fat man's voice went hard. "You'd been a physicist once. <i>Nu</i>clear -physicist."</p> - -<p>The young man with the shotgun spat. Ellenby watched the spittle curl -in the dust like a little brown worm. He shifted his gaze to a dead -eucalyptus leaf. "I'd like to talk to the college board of regents," he -said tonelessly.</p> - -<p>"I'm the board of regents," the fat man told him. "Didn't you even know -that?"</p> - -<p>At this point the other unarmed man spoke up loudly. "But that doesn't -explain my case. I've devoted my whole life to warning people against -physicists and other scientists. How they'd smash us with their bombs. -How they were destroying our minds with 3D and telefax and handies. How -they were blaspheming against Nature, killing all imagination, crushing -all beauty out of life!"</p> - -<p>"I'd shut my mouth if I were you, Madson," the fat man said critically, -"or at least lower my voice. When I mentioned a mob, I wasn't fooling. -I saw them burn Cal Tech. In fact, I got a bit excited and helped."</p> - -<p>The young man with the shotgun grinned.</p> - -<p>"Cal Tech," Ellenby murmured, his eyes growing distant. "Cal Tech burns -and Ozona stands."</p> - -<p>"Ozona stands for the decencies of life," the fat man grated, "not -alphabet bombs and pituitary gas. Its purpose is to save a town, not -help kill a world."</p> - -<p>"But why should <i>I</i> be driven out?" Madson persisted. "I'm just a poet -singing the beauties of the simple life unmarred by science."</p> - -<p>"Not simple enough for Ozona!" the fat man snorted. "We happen to know, -Mr. Poet Madson, that you've written some stories about free love. We -don't want anyone telling Ozona girls it's all right to be careless."</p> - -<p>"But those were just ideas, ideas in a story," Madson protested. "I -wasn't advocating—"</p> - -<p>"No difference," the fat man cut him short. "Talk to a woman about -ideas and pretty soon she gets some." His voice became almost kindly. -"Look here, if you wanted a woman without getting hitched to her, why -didn't you go to shantytown?"</p> - -<p>Madson squared his shoulders. "You've missed the whole point. I'd never -do such a thing. I never have."</p> - -<p>"Then you shouldn't have boasted," the fat man said. "And you shouldn't -have fooled around with Councilman Classen's daughter."</p> - -<p>At the name, Ellenby came out of his trance and looked sharply -at Madson, who said indignantly, "I wasn't fooling around with -Vera-Ellen, whatever her crazy father says. She came to my office -because she has poetic ability and I wanted to encourage it."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, so she'd encourage you," the fat man finished. "That girl's wild -enough already, which I suppose is what you mean by poetic ability. And -in this town, her father's word counts." He hitched up his belt. "And -now, professors, it's time you started."</p> - -<p>Madson and Ellenby looked at each other doubtfully. The young man with -the squirtgun raised its acid-etched muzzle. The fat man looked hard at -Madson and Ellenby. "I think I hear alarm clocks going off," he said -quietly.</p> - -<p>They watched the two men trudge a hundred yards, watched Ellenby shift -the rolled-up towel under his elbow to the other side, watched Madson -pause to thumb tobacco into a pipe and glance carelessly back, then -shove the pipe in his pocket and go on hurriedly.</p> - -<p>"Couple of pretty harmless coots, if you ask me," the young man with -the shotgun observed.</p> - -<p>"Sure," the fat man agreed, "but we got to remember peoples' feelings -and keep Ozona straight. We don't like mobs or fear <i>or</i> girls gone -wild."</p> - -<p>The young man with the shotgun grinned. "That Vera-Ellen," he murmured, -shaking his head.</p> - -<p>"You better keep <i>your</i> mind off her too," the fat man said sourly. -"She's wild enough without anybody to encourage her poetic ability -or anything else. It's a good thing we gave those two their walking -papers."</p> - -<p>"They'll probably walk right into the arms of the Harvey gang," the -young man with the squirtgun remarked, "especially if they try to -short-cut."</p> - -<p>"Pretty small pickings for Harvey, those two," the young man with the -shotgun countered. "Which won't please him at all."</p> - -<p>The fat man shrugged. "Their own fault. If only they'd had sense enough -to keep their mouths shut. Early in life."</p> - -<p>"They don't seem to realize it's 1993," said the young man with the -shotgun.</p> - -<p>The fat man nodded. "Come on," he said, turning back toward the town -and the coolness. "We've done our duty."</p> - -<p>The young man with the squirtgun took a last look. "There they go, -Art and Science," he observed with satisfaction. "Those two subjects -always did make my head ache."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>On the hot road Madson began to stride briskly. His nostrils flared. -"Smell the morning air," he commanded. "It's good, good!"</p> - -<p>Ellenby, matching his stride with longer if older legs, looked at him -with mild wonder.</p> - -<p>"Smell the hot sour grass," Madson continued. "It's things like this -man was meant for, not machines and formulas. Look at the dew. Have you -seen the dew in years? Look at it on that spiderweb!"</p> - -<p>The physicist paused obediently to observe the softly twinkling -strands. "Perfect catenaries," he murmured.</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>"A kind of curve," Ellenby explained. "The locus of the focus of a -parabola rolling on a straight line."</p> - -<p>"Locus-focus hocus-pocus!" Madson snorted. "Reducing the wonders of -Nature to chalk marks. It's disgusting."</p> - -<p>Suddenly each tiny drop of dew turned blood-red. Ellenby turned his -back on the spiderweb, whipped a crooked little brass tube from an -inside pocket and squinted through it.</p> - -<p>"What's that?" Madson asked.</p> - -<p>"Spectroscope," Ellenby explained. "Early morning spectra of the sun -are fascinating."</p> - -<p>Madson huffed. "There you go. Analyzing. Tearing beauty apart. It's a -disease." He paused. "Say, won't you hurt your eyes?"</p> - -<p>Turning back, Ellenby shook his head. "I keep a smoked glass on it," he -said. "I'm always hoping that some day I'll get a glimpse of an atomic -bomb explosion."</p> - -<p>"You mean to say you've missed all the dozens they dropped on this -country? That's too bad."</p> - -<p>"The ball of fire's quite fleeting. The opportunities haven't been as -good as you think."</p> - -<p>"But you're a physicist, aren't you? Don't you people have all sorts of -lovely photographs to gloat over in your laboratories?"</p> - -<p>"Atomic bomb spectra were never declassified," Ellenby told him -wistfully. "At least not in my part of the project. I've never seen -one."</p> - -<p>"Well, you'll probably get your chance," Madson told him harshly. "If -you've been reading your dirty telefax, you'll know the Hot Truce is -coming to a boil. And the Angeles area will be a prime target." Ellenby -nodded mutely.</p> - -<p>They trudged on. The sun began to beat on their backs like an -open fire. Ellenby turned up his collar. He watched his companion -thoughtfully. Finally he said, "So you're the Madson who wrote those -<i>Enemies of Science</i> stories about a world ruled by poets. It never -occurred to me back at Ozona. And that non-fiction book about us—what -was it called?"</p> - -<p>"<i>Murderers of Imagination</i>," Madson growled. "And it would have been -a good thing if you'd listened to my warnings instead of going on -building machines and dissecting Nature and destroying all the lovely -myths that make life worthwhile."</p> - -<p>"Are you sure that Nature is so lovely and kind?" Ellenby ventured. -Madson did not deign to answer.</p> - -<p>They passed a crossroad leading, the battered sign said, one way to -Palmdale, the other to San Bernardino. They were perhaps a hundred -yards beyond it when Ellenby let go a little chuckle. "I have a -confession to make. When I was very young I wrote an article about -how children shouldn't be taught the Santa Claus myth or any similar -fictions."</p> - -<p>Madson laughed sardonically. "A perfect member of your dry-souled -tribe! Worrying about Santa Claus, when all the while something very -different was about to come flying down from over the North Pole and -land on our housetops."</p> - -<p>"We did try to warn people about the intercontinental missiles," -Ellenby reminded him.</p> - -<p>"Yes, without any success. The last two reindeer—Donner and Blitzen!"</p> - -<p>Ellenby nodded glumly, but he couldn't keep a smile off his face for -long. "I wrote another article too—it was never published—about how -poetry is completely pointless, how rhymes inevitably distort meanings, -and so on."</p> - -<p>Madson whirled on him with a peal of laughter. "So you even thought you -were big enough to wreck poetry!" He jerked a limp, thinnish volume -from his coat pocket. "You thought you could destroy this!"</p> - -<p>Ellenby's expression changed. He reached for the book, but Madson held -it away from him. Ellenby said, "That's Keats, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"How would you know?"</p> - -<p>Ellenby hesitated. "Oh, I got to like some of his poetry, quite a -while after I wrote the article." He paused again and looked squarely -at Madson. "Also, Vera-Ellen was reading me some pieces out of that -volume. I guess you'd loaned it to her."</p> - -<p>"Vera-Ellen?" Madson's jaw dropped.</p> - -<p>Ellenby nodded. "She had trouble with her geometry. Some conferences -were necessary." He smiled. "We physicists aren't such a dry-souled -tribe, you know."</p> - -<p>Madson looked outraged. "Why, you're old enough to be her father!"</p> - -<p>"Or her husband," Ellenby replied coolly. "Young women are often -attracted to father images. But all that can't make any difference to -us now."</p> - -<p>"You're right," Madson said shortly. He shoved the poetry volume back -in his pocket, flirted the sweat out of his eyes, and looked around -with impatience. "Say, you're going to New Angeles, aren't you?" he -asked, and when Ellenby nodded uncertainly, said, "Then let's cut -across the fields. This road is taking us out of our way." And without -waiting for a reply he jumped across the little ditch to the left of -the road and into the yellowing wheat field. Ellenby watched him for -a moment, then hitched his rolled towel further up under his arm and -followed.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was stifling in the field. The wheat seemed to paralyze any stray -breezes. Their boots hissed against the dry stems. Far off they heard -a lazy drumming. After a while they came to a wide, brimful irrigation -ditch. They could see that some hundreds of feet ahead it was crossed -by a little bridge. They followed the ditch.</p> - -<p>Ellenby felt strangely giddy, as if he were looking at everything -through a microscope. That may have been due to the tremendous size of -the wheat, its spikes almost as big as corncobs, the spikelets bigger -than kernels—rich orange stuff taut with flour. But then they came to -a section marred by larger and larger splotches of a powdery purple -blight.</p> - -<p>The lazy drumming became louder. Ellenby was the first to see the -low-swinging helicopter with its thick, trailing plume of greenish -mist. He knocked Madson on the shoulder and both men started to run. -Purple dust puffed. Once Ellenby stumbled and Madson stopped to jerk -him to his feet. Still they would have escaped except that the copter -swerved toward them. A moment later they were enveloped in sweet oily -fumes.</p> - -<p>Madson heard jeering laughter, glimpsed a grotesquely long-nosed face -peering down from above. Then, through the cloud, Ellenby squeaked, -"Don't breathe!" and Madson felt himself dragged roughly into the -ditch. The water closed over him with a splash.</p> - -<p>Puffing and blowing, he came to his feet—the water hardly reached his -waist—to find himself being dragged by Ellenby toward the bridge. It -was all he could do to keep his footing on the muddy bottom. By the -time he got breath enough to voice his indignation, Ellenby was saying, -"That's far enough. The stuff's settling away from us. Now strip and -scrub yourself."</p> - -<p>Ellenby unrolled the towel he'd held tightly clutched to his side all -the while, and produced a bar of soap. In response to Madson's question -he explained, "That fungicide was probably TTTR or some other relative -of the nerve-gas family. They are absorbed through the skin."</p> - -<p>Seconds later Madson was scouring his head and chest. He hesitated -at his trousers, muttering, "They'll probably have me for indecent -exposure. Claim I was trying to start a nudist colony as well as a -free-love cult." But Ellenby's warning had been a chilly one.</p> - -<p>Ellenby soaped Madson's back and he in turn soaped the older man's -ridgy one.</p> - -<p>"I suppose that's why he had an elephant's nose," Madson mused.</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>"Man in the copter," Madson explained. "Wearing a respirator."</p> - -<p>Ellenby nodded and made them move nearer the bridge for a change of -water.</p> - -<p>They started to scrub their clothes, rinse and wring them, and lay -them on the bank to dry. They watched the copter buzzing along in -the distance, but it didn't seem inclined to come near again. Madson -felt impelled to say, "You know, it's your chemist friends who have -introduced that viciousness into the common man's spirit, giving him -horrible poisons to use against Nature. Otherwise he wouldn't have -tried to douse us with that stuff."</p> - -<p>"He just acted like an ordinary farmer to me," Ellenby replied, -scrubbing vigorously.</p> - -<p>"Think we're safe?" Madson asked.</p> - -<p>Ellenby shrugged. "We'll discover," he said briefly.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Madson shivered, but the rhythmic job was soothing. After a bit he -began to feel almost playful. Lathering his shirt, he got some fine -large bubbles, held them so he could see their colors flow in the -sunlight.</p> - -<p>"Tiny perfect worlds of every hue," he murmured. "Violet, blue, green, -yellow, orange, red."</p> - -<p>"And dead black," Ellenby added.</p> - -<p>"You would say something like that!" Madson grunted. "What did you -think I was talking about?"</p> - -<p>"Bubbles."</p> - -<p>"Maybe some of your friends' poisons have black bubbles," Madson said -bitingly. "But I was talking about these."</p> - -<p>"So was I. Give me your pipe."</p> - -<p>The authority in Ellenby's voice made Madson look around startledly. -"Give me your pipe," Ellenby repeated firmly, holding out his hand.</p> - -<p>Madson fished it out of the pocket of the trousers he was about to wash -and handed it over. Ellenby knocked out the soggy tobacco, swished it -in the water a few times, and began to soap the inside of the bowl.</p> - -<p>Madson started to object, but, "You'd be washing it anyway," Ellenby -assured him. "Now look here, Madson, I'm going to blow a bubble and I -want you to watch, I want you to observe Nature for all you're worth. -If poets and physicists have one thing in common it's that they're both -supposed to be able to observe. Accurately."</p> - -<p>He took a breath. "Now see, I'm going to hold the pipe mouth down and -let the bubble hang from it, but with one side of the bowl tipped up a -bit, so that the strain on the bubble's skin will be greatest on that -side."</p> - -<p>He blew a big bubble, held the pipe with one hand and pointed with -a finger of the other. "There's the place to watch now. There!" The -bubble burst.</p> - -<p>"What was that?" Madson asked in a new voice. "It really was black for -an instant, dull like soot."</p> - -<p>"A bubble bursts because its skin gets thinner and thinner," Ellenby -said. "When it gets thin enough it shows colors, as interference -eliminates different wavelengths. With yellow eliminated it shows -violet, and so on. But finally, just for a moment at the place where -it's going to break, the skin becomes only one molecule thick. Such a -mono-molecular layer absorbs all light, hence shows as dead black."</p> - -<p>"Everything's got a black lining, eh?"</p> - -<p>"Black can be beautiful. Here, I'll do it again."</p> - -<p>Madson put his hand on Ellenby's shoulder to steady himself. They were -standing hip-deep in water, their bodies still flecked with suds. Their -heads were inches from the new bubble. As it burst a voice floated down -to them.</p> - -<p>"Is this the Ozona Faculty Kindergarten?"</p> - -<p>They whirled around, simultaneously crouching in the water.</p> - -<p>"Vera-Ellen, what are you doing here?" Madson demanded.</p> - -<p>"Watching the kiddies play," the girl on the bridge replied, running a -hand through her touseled violet hair. She looked down at her slacks -and jacket. "Wish I'd brought my swim suit, though I gather it wouldn't -be expected."</p> - -<p>"Vera-Ellen!" Madson said apprehensively.</p> - -<p>"It doesn't look very inviting down there, though," she mused. "Guess -I'll wait for Aqua Heaven at New Angeles."</p> - -<p>"You're going to New Angeles?" Ellenby put in. It is not easy to be -conversationally brilliant while squatting chest deep in muddy water, -acutely conscious of the absence of clothes.</p> - -<p>Vera-Ellen nodded lazily, leaning on the railing. "Going to get me a -city job. With its reduced faculty Ozona holds no more intellectual -interest for me. Did you know math's going to be made part of the Home -Eck department, Mr. Ellenby?"</p> - -<p>"But how did you know that we—"</p> - -<p>"Daughter of the man who got you run out of town ought to know what the -old bully's up to. And if you're worrying that they'll come after me -and find us together, I'll just head along by myself."</p> - -<p>Madson and Ellenby both protested, though it is even harder to protest -effectively than to be conversationally brilliant while squatting naked -in coffee-colored water.</p> - -<p>Vera-Ellen said, "All right, so quit playing and let's get on. You have -to tell me all about New Angeles and the kind of jobs we'll get."</p> - -<p>"But—?"</p> - -<p>"Modest, eh? I'm afraid Pa wouldn't count it in your favor. But all -right." She turned her back and sauntered to the other side of the -bridge.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Madson and Ellenby cautiously climbed out of the ditch, brushed the -water from their skins, and wormed into their soggy clothes.</p> - -<p>"We've got to persuade her to go back," Madson whispered.</p> - -<p>"Vera-Ellen?" Ellenby replied and raised his eyebrows.</p> - -<p>Madson groaned softly.</p> - -<p>"Cheer up," Ellenby said. And he seemed in a cheerful humor himself -when they climbed to the bridge. "Vera-Ellen," he said, "we've been -having an argument as to whether man ruined Nature or Nature ruined man -to start with."</p> - -<p>"Is this a class, Mr. Ellenby?"</p> - -<p>"Of sorts," he told her. Behind him Madson snorted, flipping his Keats -to dry the pages. They started off together.</p> - -<p>"Well," said Vera-Ellen, "I like Nature and I like ... human beings. -And I don't feel ruined at all. Where's the argument?"</p> - -<p>"What about the bombs?" Madson demanded automatically. "By man our -physicist here means Technology. Whereas I mean—"</p> - -<p>"Oh, the bombs," she said with a shrug. "What sort of job do you think -I should get in New Angeles?"</p> - -<p>"Well ..." Madson began.</p> - -<p>"Say, I'm getting hungry," she raced on, turning to Ellenby.</p> - -<p>"So am I," he agreed.</p> - -<p>They looked at the road ahead. A jagged hill now hid all but the tips -of the spires of New Angeles. On the top of the hill was a tremendous -house with sagging roofs of cracked tiles, stucco walls dark with rain -stains and green with moss yet also showing cracks, and windows of -age-blued glass, some splintered, flashing in the sun, which tempted -Ellenby to whip out his spectroscope.</p> - -<p>Curving down from the house came a weedy and balding expanse that had -obviously once been a well-tended lawn. A few stalwart patches of thick -grass held out tenaciously.</p> - -<p>Pale-trunked eucalyptus trees towered behind the house and to either -side of the road where it curved over the hill.</p> - -<p>In a hollow at the foot of the one-time lawn, just where it met the -road, something gleamed. As Madson, Ellenby and Vera-Ellen tramped -forward, they saw it was an old automobile, one of the jet antiques -that were the rage around 1970—in fact, a Lunar '69. Coming closer -Ellenby realized that it had custom-built features, such as jet brakes -and collision springs.</p> - -<p>A man with an odd cap was poking a probe into the air intake, while in -the back seat a woman was sitting, shadowed by a hat four feet across. -At the sound of their footsteps the man whirled to his feet, quickly -enough though unsteadily. He stared at them, wagging the probe. Just -at that moment something that looked like an animated orange furpiece -leaped from the tonneau.</p> - -<p>"George!" the woman cried. "Widgie's got away."</p> - -<p>The small flattish creature came on in undulating bounds. It was past -the man in the cap before he could turn. It headed for Ellenby, then -changed direction. Madson made an impulsive dive for it, but it widened -itself still more and sailed over him straight into Vera-Ellen's arms.</p> - -<p>They walked toward the car. Widgie wriggled, Vera-Ellen stroked his -ears. He seemed to be a flying fox of some sort. The man eyed them -hostilely, raising the probe. Madson stared puzzledly at the cap. Out -of his older knowledge Ellenby whispered an explanation: "Chauffeur."</p> - -<p>The woman stood in the back seat, swaying slightly. She was wearing a -white swim suit and dark teleglasses under her hat. At first she seemed -a somewhat ravaged thirty. Then they began to see the rest of the -wrinkles.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>She received Widgie from Vera-Ellen, shook him out and tucked him under -her arm, where he hung limply, moving his tiny red eyes.</p> - -<p>"Come in with me, my dear," she told Vera-Ellen. "George, put down -that crazy pole. Pay no attention to George—he can't recognize -gentlefolk when he sees them, especially when he's drunk. Gentlemen," -she continued, waving graciously to Madson and Ellenby, "you have the -thanks of Rickie Vickson." As she pronounced the name she surveyed them -sharply. Her gaze settled on Ellenby. "You know me, don't you?"</p> - -<p>"Certainly," he answered instantly. "You were my first—my favorite -straight 3D star."</p> - -<p>"Are you in 3D?" Vera-Ellen asked, a sudden gleam in her eyes.</p> - -<p>"Was, my dear," Rickie said grandly. She ogled Ellenby through the -fish-eye glasses. "Ah, straight 3D," she sighed. "Simple video-audio -in depth—there was a great art-form." She began to sway again and -they caught the reek of alcohol. "You know, gentlemen, it was handies -that ruined my career. I had the looks and the voice, but I lacked -the touch. Something in me shrank from the whole idea—be still, -Widgie—and the girls with itchy fingers took over. But I'm talking -too much about myself. It's hot and you wonderful gentlemen must be -thirsty. Here, have a—"</p> - -<p>The chauffeur glared at her as she reached fumblingly down into the -tonneau. She caught the look and quailed slightly.</p> - -<p>"—sandwich," she finished, coming up with a shiny can.</p> - -<p>Madson accepted it from her, clicking the catch. The top popped four -feet in the air, followed lazily by the uppermost sandwich which he -caught deftly. He handed the can to Ellenby, who served himself and -handed it up to Vera-Ellen. Soon all three of them were munching.</p> - -<p>"Miss Vickson," Vera-Ellen asked between mouthfuls, "do you think I -could get a job in broadcast entertainment?"</p> - -<p>Rickie looked at her sideways, leaning away to focus. "Not with that -ghastly atomglow hair," she said. "Violet is old hat this year—it's -either black, blonde or bald. But give me your hand, my dear."</p> - -<p>"Going to tell my fortune?"</p> - -<p>"After a fashion." She held up Vera-Ellen's hand, squeezing and -prodding it thoughtfully, as if she were testing the carcass of an -alleged spring chicken. Then she nodded. "You'll do. Good strong hand, -that's all that's needed, so you can really crunch the knuckles of -the bohunks. They love it rough. Of course the technicians could step -up the power when they broadcast your hand-squeeze, but the addicts -don't feel it's the same thing." She looked sourly at her own delicate -claws. "Yes, my dear, you'll have a chance in handies if you don't -mind cuddling with two million dirty-minded bohunks every night and if -Rickie Vickson's still got any entree at the studios." She made a face -and dipped again into the tonneau, apparently to gulp something, for -the chauffeur's glare was intensified.</p> - -<p>"You're from New Angeles?" Madson asked politely when Rickie came up -beaming.</p> - -<p>"Old Angeles," she corrected. "My home's in a contaminated area. After -3D lighting I've never been afraid of hard radiations. But this time my -psychic counselor told me—Widgie, I'm going to put you away in a nice -little urn—that the bombs are going to miss New Angeles and fall on -Old. That's why George is jetting me to the mountains. Others drink to -still their fears. I do something about it—too."</p> - -<p>"You mean you're going <i>away</i> from the studio?" Vera-Ellen demanded -incredulously while Ellenby mumbled "Bombs?" through a mouthful of -sandwich.</p> - -<p>"Of course," Rickie nodded. "Don't you know? Russia's touched a match -to the Hot Truce. You charming gentlemen should keep up with these -things."</p> - -<p>"You see, I told you!" Madson said to Ellenby. "One more victory for -science!"</p> - -<p>"Miss Vickson, we better be getting on," the chauffeur interrupted, -speaking for the first time. His voice was drunkenly thick. "We aren't -out of the fusion fringe by a long shot and I don't like the looks of -this place."</p> - -<p>Rickie ignored him. Ellenby asked, "Was the news about Russia -telefaxed?"</p> - -<p>"Of course not." Rickie's smile was scornful. "They never tell the real -truth these days. But they said to get out of our houses, and what else -could that mean?"</p> - -<p>"Miss Vickson, we better—" George began again.</p> - -<p>"Quiet, George," Rickie ordered.</p> - -<p>George groaned faintly, shrugged his shoulders, and reached out an arm -to her without looking. Rickie handed him a red, limp plastic bottle. -Just as he was putting it to his lips, he jerked as if stung, vaulted -into the car, and began to stamp and punch at the controls.</p> - -<p>With a mighty <i>pouf</i> the jet took hold. Ellenby skittered away from the -hot blast. The Lunar '69 jumped forward.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Things hissed and snicked through the air. From nowhere, men began to -appear. With a great lurch the car gained the road, roared toward the -bridge. Vera-Ellen jumped up as if to get out, then was thrown back -into the tonneau. Rickie lunged forward across the seat to save the red -bottle. Her four-foot hat leaped upward, hesitated, and then spun off -like a flying saucer.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>A man rose from the wheat near the bridge. As the car jounced across -it, he leveled a rapid-fire weapon. But just as he got it trained on -the car, Rickie's hat landed on him. He went over backwards, firing at -the sky.</p> - -<p>Madson and Ellenby looked around in bewilderment. There must have been -a dozen men. As they stared, another bunch came hurrying down the -ruined lawn from the house on the hill.</p> - -<p>The man by the bridge got up, went over to Rickie's hat and stamped on -it.</p> - -<p>Madson and Ellenby jumped as the sky-climbing missiles from his gun -pattered down around them. When they looked around again, the men from -the house on the hill were closing in.</p> - -<p>Their leader was about five feet tall, but thick. His head had been -formed in a bullet mold, his features looked drop-forged.</p> - -<p>"I'm Harvey," he told them blankly. "What you got?"</p> - -<p>Harvey's people wore everything from evening dress to shorts. There -were even two women (who drifted toward Harvey) one in a gold kimono, -the other in an off-the-bosom frock of filthy white lace. Everybody was -armed.</p> - -<p>"What you got?" Harvey repeated sharply. "I know you're loaded, I saw -you talking with that rich-witch in the jet." He looked them over and -grabbed at Madson's side pocket. "Books, huh?" he said like a hangman, -dangling the Keats by a stray page. Then he turned to Ellenby. "Come -on, Skinny," he said, "shell out."</p> - -<p>When Ellenby hesitated, two of Harvey's men grabbed him, dumped him, -and passed the contents of his pockets to their chief. When the -spectroscope turned up, Harvey grinned. The eyes of his people twinkled -in anticipation.</p> - -<p>"Science gadget, huh?" he said. "Folks, there's been too much science -in the world and too many words. Any minute now, more bombs are gonna -fall. I do my humble bit to help 'em. I'm a great little junkman." He -let the brass tube fall to the ground and lifted his foot. "Blow it a -good-bye kiss, Skinny."</p> - -<p>"Wait," Madson said abruptly, taking a step toward Harvey. "Don't do -it." Then the poet's eyes grew wide and alarmed, as if he hadn't known -he was going to say it.</p> - -<p>Breaths sucked in around them. Harvey's turret head slowly turned -toward Madson, its expression seemingly vacuous. "Why not?" Harvey -whispered.</p> - -<p>"Don't pay any attention to my friend," Ellenby interjected rapidly. -"He just said that on account of me. Actually he hates science as much -as you do. Don't—"</p> - -<p>"Shaddup!" Harvey roared. Then his voice instantly went low again. -"Ain't nobody hates science more'n me, but ain't nobody tells me so. -Shoulda kept your mouth shut, Skinny. Now there's gonna be more'n -gadgets stomped, more'n books tore."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Silence came except for the faint sucks of breath, the faint scuffle -of shoes on grit as Harvey's people slowly moved in. Ellenby stood -helplessly, yet at the same time he felt a widening and intensification -of his sensory powers. He was aware of the delicately lace-edged tree -shadows cast from the hill ahead by the westering sun. At the other -limit of his vision the copter no longer trailed its green caterpillar; -for some reason it was buzzing closer along the road. At the same time -he was conscious with a feverish clarity of the page by which Harvey -dangled the Keats, and without reading the words he saw the lines:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse"><i>Beauty is truth, truth beauty—that is all</i></div> - <div class="verse"><i>Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.</i></div> -</div></div> - -<p>Suddenly the slowly advancing faces seemed to freeze and Ellenby was -aware of something spectral and ominous about the yellowing sunlight -and the whole acid-etched scene around him. It was something more than -the physical threat to him and Madson—it was something that seemed to -well up menacingly from the ground under his feet.</p> - -<p>There was a sudden faint thunder and even as something inside Ellenby -said, "That isn't it, that isn't what the sky's waiting for," he saw -the chrome muzzle of the Lunar '69 bulleting toward them across the -bridge with Vera-Ellen's violet mop above the wheel.</p> - -<p>But even as the braking blasts gouted out redly from under the hood and -the car crunched toward a stop in their midst, even as Harvey's people -broke to either side and pistols popped with queerly toylike reports, -the thunder multiplied until it was impossible that the Lunar '69 was -causing it, until it was like the thunder of a thousand invisible jets -crushing the air around them. The sky shifted, rocked. The road shook. -There came a shock that numbed Ellenby's feet and sent everyone around -him reeling, and a pounding, smashing sound that made any remembered -noise seem puny.</p> - -<p>The Lunar '69, which had stopped a dozen feet from Ellenby, was -pitching and tossing like a silver ship in a storm. Vera-Ellen was -gripping the steering wheel with one hand and motioning to him -frantically with the other. In the seat beyond her Rickie Vickson was -jouncing as if in a merry-go-round chariot.</p> - -<p>Ellenby lurched as a hand clutched his shoulder and a staggering Madson -howled in his ear through the tumult, "Now you've got your rotten -bombs!" Between him and the car Harvey's bullet head reared up and as -suddenly dropped away. Looking down, Ellenby saw that a chasm four feet -wide had split the road between him and the car. Its walls were raw, -smoking earth and rock. Down it Ellenby saw vanishing, in one frozen -moment, Harvey and the Keats and the little brass spectroscope.</p> - -<p>Then Ellenby realized he had grabbed Madson by the shoulder and thrown -the two of them forward and shouted "Jump!" For a moment the chasm -gaped beneath them and a white little face stared upward. Then the -chasm closed with a giant crunch and Ellenby's hand caught the side of -the heaving car and he pitched into the back seat.</p> - -<p>Through the diminishing thunder and shaking there came the toy roar -of the car's jet and a new movement tipped him backward and he was -looking toward the hill and it was getting bigger. He tried to put his -feet down and felt something bulk under them. For a moment he thought -it was Madson, but Madson was beside him on the seat, and then he -saw it was George. He looked up and Rickie Vickson was watching him -from where she was crouched in the front seat, her eyes without the -teleglasses looking as foxy as Widgie's, whom she was holding close to -her wrinkle-etched cheek.</p> - -<p>"Vera-Ellen had to conk him," she explained, her gaze dipping to -George. "The bum tried to betray us."</p> - -<p>The pitching of the car had given way to a steady forward lunge. -Ellenby nodded dully at Rickie and hitched himself around and looked -back.</p> - -<p>Harvey's people were scattering like ants through a dust cloud rising -from the road.</p> - -<p>The house on the hill still stood, though there were more and larger -cracks in it and a nimbus of whiter dust around it.</p> - -<p>By the bridge the copter had crashed and was flaming brightly. A tiny -figure was running away from it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Ellenby's face slowly lightened with understanding.</p> - -<p>"We were on the San Andreas Rift," he said softly. "Madson, that wasn't -the bombs at all. That wasn't Technology or Man." A smile trembled on -his lips. "That was Nature. An earthquake."</p> - -<p>Madson was the first to comment. "All right," he said, "it was -Nature—Nature showing her disgust for Man."</p> - -<p>"An idea like that is the sheerest animism," Ellenby reacted -automatically. "Now if you try analyzing—"</p> - -<p>"Analyzing!" Madson snorted with a touch of the old fire. "You -scientists are always—"</p> - -<p>"Whoa, boys," Rickie Vickson interrupted. "If it hadn't been for that -little quake to confuse things, Vera-Ellen couldn't have snatched you -out no matter how pretty she tried. And I'm in no mood for arguments -now. I'm not the arty type and all the science I know is what my -psychic counselor tells me. Widgie, quit pounding your heart; it's all -over now."</p> - -<p>Ellenby touched her arm. "Do I understand," he asked, "that Vera-Ellen -made you turn back just to save us?"</p> - -<p>"Of course not," Rickie assured him. "Her father and his pals tried to -stop us a couple of miles back. They'd been radioed by a farmer in a -copter and had the road blocked. George wanted to hand you all over to -Vera-Ellen's father, but we conked George—he's such a weakling—and -got away. Picking you up was an afterthought."</p> - -<p>Vera-Ellen flashed a wicked smile over her shoulder.</p> - -<p>Ellenby realized he was feeling vastly contented. He started to lift -his feet off George, then settled them more comfortably. He looked at -the violet-topped new chauffeur handling the Lunar as if she'd never -done anything else, and she picked that moment to flash him another -half friendly, half insulting grin. He nudged Madson and said, "We'll -continue our argument later—<i>all</i> our argument." Madson looked at him -sharply and almost grinned too. Ellenby wondered idly what jobs they -had for poets and physicists in 3D and handie studios.</p> - -<p>Rickie Vickson's eyes widened. "Say," she said, "if they were just -warning us about that little old earthquake, then Old Angeles isn't -radioactive—I mean any <i>more</i> radioactive than it's ever been."</p> - -<p>"Oh boy," Vera-Ellen crowed as the car topped the hill and the blue -spires came back in sight, "New Angeles, here we come."</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRIENDS AND ENEMIES ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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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