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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..3d8a96b --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #68753 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68753) diff --git a/old/68753-0.txt b/old/68753-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index f9eea4f..0000000 --- a/old/68753-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1141 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Forgotten danger, by William Morrison - -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: Forgotten danger - -Author: William Morrison - -Release Date: August 15, 2022 [eBook #68753] - -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 FORGOTTEN DANGER *** - - - - - - FORGOTTEN DANGER - - BY WILLIAM MORRISON - - ILLUSTRATED BY FREAS - - Crusoe could remember only one thing--that - somewhere near some deadly danger - threatened him! He had no way of knowing - what it was, or why he was in the swamp. - Then he found he could work miracles! - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Science Fiction Adventures Magazine, February 1953. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -He had a feeling that there was something he had to remember, something -urgent, something that had to do with danger. But it was hard to think -of it, it was hard to think at all. There was a dullness in his head -as if he had been too long asleep. And now that he had awakened at -last, he did not know for the moment where he was. He would realize, of -course, once he shook himself and straightened out his mind. But so far -he did not know. Nothing was familiar. - -It was dark, and in the background he saw the silhouettes of bushes, a -bridge, trees. Closer at hand there was a fire over which a large pot -was boiling. Around the fire were four men in ragged clothes. As the -firelight flickered over their faces, casting weird lights upon the -battered features, he studied them carefully. He knew none of them. - - * * * * * - -One was a big subtly mis-shapen bull of a man with a three days' beard. -There was power in the set of his shoulders, in his easy slouch as, -with narrowed eyes, he stirred the contents of the pot. Another was -small, with a pointed beard and a shining bald head. The first one, -he gathered from their conversation, was called Angel, the second, -Professor. The other two were of more moderate size. He saw that their -faces assumed strange colors in the light of the leaping flames. He -could not, no matter how hard he tried, gather what their names were. -But he knew that names didn't matter. The thing that mattered was the -danger that somehow threatened and that he couldn't remember. - -Angel lifted something out of the pot with a long spoon, said curtly, -"Stuff's ready," and began to ladle out the steaming mixture. The men -moved toward him with their large tin cups, and then moved back to eat. -The largest portion of all Angel kept for himself. The next largest he -brought to the sitting man, stumbling as he did so over a root that -tangled his shoe. But he caught himself before he had spilled the -contents of the cup and said, "Here y'are, Crusoe." - -Crusoe. A strange name. Not his at all. But he said automatically, -"Thank you." - - * * * * * - -Angel had lifted a spoonful of the stew to his own mouth. Now he gulped -it down hastily and said, "Hey fellows, he sounds like he came out of -it." - -The other men gathered around him. Professor, staring with sharp eyes, -asked, "Do you recall your real name now?" - -He shook his head. "I don't remember a thing. How did I get here?" - -"You don't remember that?" - -He said with irritation, "I have just told you so." - -"Don't get huffy, chum," said Angel. "I been feedin' you and takin' -care of you and your pal for two weeks. And you don't know a thing -about it, huh?" - -"I recall nothing. Except that there is danger." - -"The railroad bulls who chased us," said one of the other men. "He -remembers them." - -"Bulls? No, it is something more than that." - -"What about it, Professor?" asked Angel. "Think he'll snap out of it so -he really remembers?" - -"I certainly hope so," returned the little bald man. "When I first -found him, wandering around near the swamp, he seemed to be in a -complete coma. Then, after a few days of rest, he seemed to realize -dimly what was going on around him. But from day to day he remembered -nothing. Perhaps the events are not completely forgotten, perhaps they -reside in his subconscious, ready to be called to mind again upon -proper occasion. However, so far there is no evidence on this point." - -"But he's gettin' better all the time," said Angel defensively. - -"Yes, that is the thing that indicates there is hope. From now on I -think that he will consciously remember all that happens. And perhaps, -in time, he will recall who he really is. In the meantime, of course, -he is like a shipwrecked mariner discovering an entirely strange land. -That is why I have named him Crusoe." He smiled wistfully. "Perhaps he -is more fortunate than he seems. I would give much for his ability to -forget." - -"Stop harpin' on it, Professor. It happened long ago." - -"But I still remember it as keenly as if it had happened yesterday. -Strange, all the whiskey and gin I have drunk have not dulled my memory -in the least. I was very successful in my profession, gentlemen. I was -already an Associate Professor of English Literature, a recognized -authority on the novel. I had a great career ahead of me. And then, one -day, coming home from a Christmas party with my wife, my car skidded on -the ice--" - -Angel's heavy hand fell across his shoulder. "It's okay, Professor, -don't talk about it no more. I know where I can pick up some rotgut -tomorrow night, and you'll celebrate and forget all about it." - -Crusoe listened with interest. He had a vague memory of having heard -Professor's story about his wife's death before, as if the man had told -it to others before they had met Angel and the latter's friends. But it -was so vague that he could hardly be sure it was a memory at all. And -meanwhile the feeling of danger persisted. He had to do something, do -it rapidly. But what? - -He felt the anger of frustration, an anger that made him tense and -irritable. He ate his stew in silence, aware of its strong and slightly -unpleasant taste. He had a feeling as if he were used to better -food--and yet he must have been eating the stew all along for the past -weeks. - -The fire was dying down, and several of the other men talked in low -voices to each other. He heard Angel: "And so this cop says to me, -'Move on, ya funny-lookin' bum--'" And then, the rough voice rose in -amusement. "I give him a airplane whirl and toss him over the bridge. -And then he comes up, coughin' up water, and says, 'Now I remember when -I seen you before. You was the _Destroyin' Angel_. You used to wrestle -with _The Masked McGinty_!'" - -Angel had been a wrestler, Professor a student of literature. If he -asked the other men what they had been, they would doubtless know. -What had he himself been? - -Again his mind seemed blank. He sat there sullenly, staring at his -empty cup, and wondered if there were any torture greater than that of -not being able to remember something that insistently demanded to be -remembered. - -Soon the conversations died down. The men settled themselves on the -dry grass, pulled their old worn apologies for blankets over them, and -began to snore. Around them, as the fire was reduced to embers, the -night closed in. Crusoe could hear the chirping of crickets and the -quiet flow of water under the bridge. A crackling shower of sparks -spurted unexpectedly from the still glowing coals. - -He couldn't sleep. He had slept enough during the past weeks. Now he -had to awaken fully, to realize what he must do next. But first he must -recall what had happened. Where had the Professor met him? He had been -wandering around near a swamp. Now, what on earth had he been doing -near a swamp? - -The night passed slowly as he tried to track down the thoughts which -kept eluding him. Even the chirping of the crickets died away, and at -last there was only the ripple of the water. Then, after a time, he -became aware of new sounds. The crunching of twigs under foot, the -creak of shoes on the ground. People were approaching. - -He sat up suddenly, as if he had recognized that _this_ was the danger -he had feared. "Angel!" he called. - -The ex-wrestler awoke, and the Professor with him. "Could be cops," -whispered Angel hoarsely. "Some farmer loses a chicken, and they think -of us. We better get goin'." - -He rose quietly and led the way in the direction opposite the -approaching sounds. Crusoe could hear the heavy breathing of the other -men, almost as if they were continuing to snore even though they were -now awake. They were on the alert, but not seriously alarmed. No, this -wasn't the danger he had to fear. This was a mere trifle. The real -danger was deep, hidden-- - -Some one stumbled loudly. A voice came out of the darkness. "Hey, -you--stop!" - -"Better start runnin'," muttered Angel, and lumbered forward. He -tripped over something and cursed, but kept on going. - -It was growing lighter now, and Crusoe found it easier to see. In front -of him the ground rose gently toward the top of a low hill. And halfway -up the slope stood two men, armed with rifles. They lifted the rifles -and one of them said harshly, "Hold it, you bums." - -Their retreat was cut off. Angel came to a stop, the others near -him, the slower and slighter Professor bringing up the rear. Without -thinking, Crusoe raised his arm, and just as if his hand held a weapon, -he pointed at the two men with their rifles. - - * * * * * - -The rifles exploded. They flew apart into countless fragments, and as -if by magic, blood appeared on the faces of the two men. Angel grasped -the situation instantly. He said, "Come on, fellows," and rushed -forward again. But the two men collapsed before he reached them. - -From behind them came angry yells as the first group realized that the -trap had failed. Angel chuckled. "They thought they had us," he said. -"When they see what happened to those two guys, they won't be in such a -hurry to get close to us again." - -"What did happen?" asked one of the men. He gestured with reluctance at -Crusoe. "This guy just pointed his hand--" - -Angel whirled around. "Him? I thought somebody in back of me threw a -grenade. I wasn't askin' who done it--" - -"Nobody threw no grenade. He just pointed at them." - -"Just with his finger? And them rifles exploded? It ain't possible!" - -They surrounded Crusoe and stared at him with fear-filled eyes. "How -did you do it, pal?" - -He shook his head. "I don't know. I just felt as if a weapon belonged -in my hand, as if all I had to do was point it. So I did. And the -rifles exploded." - -"Point at a tree." - -He pointed at a tree. Nothing happened. - -Angel bounced his hand against his ear, as if trying to shake loose -some water that hampered his hearing. He looked uneasy and bewildered. -"Somethin's screwy, but we can't stop to figure it now. We gotta keep -goin'." - -The pursuers were being more cautious now, and after a time Crusoe -realized that the acuteness of the danger had passed. They all stopped -to rest. The other two men, however, paused only briefly. One of them -said, "So long, chum. We better split up here. We're gonna catch a -freight goin' north." - -They seemed anxious to part from Angel and his friends. Crusoe watched -them go without regret. They were odd-looking men, and he had not -enjoyed their company. Moreover, he had a feeling that they had nothing -to do with the danger the thought of which made him uneasy. Professor, -now--Professor had a little more to do with it. - -Angel's ponderous mind had returned to the subject of their mysterious -escape. He said, "Look, Crusoe, how'd ya do it? You can come clean with -us. We won't spill it to nobody." - -Crusoe said, "I haven't the slightest idea. As I told you, all I did -was point." - -"Any more tricks you know how to pull?" - -"How do I know? I didn't even suspect that I could perform this one." - -"I suppose," said the Professor, "that the reflexes, which existed long -before there was a conscious mind, can continue to persist even after -the mind has been seriously injured. You must have been in the habit of -using some weapon--" - -"A weapon? You mean that I was a soldier? Then what am I doing out of -uniform?" - -"I hardly know," said the Professor slowly. "When I first met you, near -the swamp, you were wearing nothing. Your body was dirty and slightly -burnt, as if from some explosion. There was not a shred of clothes to -give a clue to what you had been. Those you are now wearing, including -your overalls, I ah--borrowed from a clothesline." - -"But there may be traces of my own clothes back in that swamp." - -"They will be hard to find. Swamps have a habit of swallowing what is -left in them." - -"But there must be _something_ there. How did I get to the swamp in the -first place? And what sort of explosion tore my clothes from me?" - -"A plane," said Angel suddenly. "Maybe you were in a crash. I remember -that a coupla months ago some farmers had a story about a plane -explodin' in the sky. Maybe that was the one." - -"If I was in a plane, the wreckage must still be in the swamp." And -there too must be where the danger lay. "I'm going back there," he said -with sudden determination. - -"I'll go with you, of course," said the Professor. "As the first -one to come across you in your helpless condition, I feel a certain -responsibility for you." - -Angel grinned. "I feel the same way about you, Professor. I guess I -been feelin' like that ever since I found you gettin' pushed around -by Monk Cromo. Monk's about my size," he explained to Crusoe. "And he -useta be a fighter. He thought he had only Professor to handle. He -found he had _me_. And ya know, pal, that a good wrestler will take a -fighter any old time." - -"How long ago was that?" asked Professor. "It seems like ages." - -"Five, six years. But you know somethin', pal, you ain't as helpless as -you used to be. That's what comes of havin' a head on you. You learn -how to get along, no matter where you are." - -"I regard that as a compliment, Angel," smiled the little man. "Now, -shall we start?" - - * * * * * - -Toward the danger that Crusoe felt awaited them in the swamp they could -travel but slowly. They had to go by foot, on dusty narrow roads. There -was no hope of getting a lift from passing cars. One look at the three -of them, and the average driver stepped on the gas and raced away. -Farmers set their dogs on them, and only the sight of Angel's grim face -and the strength of Angel's powerful muscles kept them from being torn -by the hounds and beaten by their masters. - -Everything that happened now Crusoe remembered perfectly. His mind -could go back a day, two days, with no trouble at all. It was only when -it reached that moment when he had become aware of his surroundings at -the fire that his memory stopped short, with terrifying abruptness. -Beyond that it couldn't go. What had he done before then? - -As they made their way toward the swamp, he became aware of something -else. The people here looked strange. Come to think of it, those two -tramps who had been with them earlier had looked strange in the same -way. And the farmers spoke in peculiar fashion, with an accent that -grated slightly on his ear. Queer, he thought, that people who had -lived here all their lives should seem so out of place and learn their -own language so improperly. - -Once, when Angel was foraging for food, a big dangerous-looking dog -came barking at Crusoe and Professor. This was a barking dog that had -never heard that it was not supposed to bite. Crusoe liked neither the -vicious glint in its eyes nor the cruel look of its teeth. As the beast -made a sudden lunge at them, he snapped his fingers sharply and said, -"Scar!" - -The animal came to a halt, as if puzzled. Professor laughed. "I don't -think that's its name," he said, and stooped to pick up a heavy rock -that might serve as a missile. The dog promptly scurried away as fast -as its legs would take it. - -"'Scar' isn't a name," said Crusoe thoughtfully. "I have the feeling -that it's a command. When accompanied by a snap of the fingers, it -tells the animal to go back to its corner." - -"That's interesting. So you're actually beginning to recall things." - -"Not exactly. I'm still responding almost automatically, at little -beyond the reflex level. Before I snapped my fingers I didn't know that -I was going to snap them. Nor did I realize that I knew the word." - -"But at least you've made a beginning," said Professor happily. "Soon -you'll be recalling the past with full consciousness." - -When Angel rejoined them, he was in proud possession of a tough but -edible chicken. Crusoe and Professor congratulated him, and later they -cooked the chicken and devoured it. It struck Crusoe that the taste -of the chicken too was strange. Or was it rather that the chicken was -quite ordinary, and that his own sense of taste was what was unusual? -That must have been it, he thought. The feeling that food tasted good -or bad also depended upon a kind of reflex memory, a memory that was -making itself felt more and more. - -The evening of that same day they camped in an open stubble-covered -field. As it grew dark, Angel began to talk of his past career, of his -triumphs as a wrestler, of his one great adventure in Hollywood to -make a picture. He had been the comic relief, a foil to the handsome -hero. Crusoe had no reason to doubt what he said, but all the same he -found Angel's adventures incredible. The life that the ex-wrestler -described was mad, completely absurd. He couldn't imagine himself -living it. - -He stared up at the sky, and realized that this too didn't look -"normal." It wasn't, it couldn't be, the sky under which he had lived -for most of his life. And the idea of living under a different sky -didn't surprise him. It was an idea to which he must long have been -accustomed. - -Two days later they reached the edge of the swamp. "I found you -near here," said the Professor. He waved his arm vaguely. "You were -wandering around, covered with mud." - -It didn't look familiar. Nor did it look as dangerous as he had -expected it to look. He asked, "Why did we leave this neighborhood? Why -didn't we stay and look for the plane that had crashed?" - -"For one reason," said the Professor gently. "Because at the time I -didn't realize that there had been a plane. For another, because we -were--shall I say, not popular?" - -"Why? Why weren't we?" - -A chuckle from Angel interrupted him. "People don't like to lose -chickens." - -"I see." - -"Nor clothes," added the Professor. "Remember that I supplied you with -garments that were hanging on a clothesline. Perhaps I should have -mentioned that the farmer's wife who discovered her loss tried to -extract payment from me by means of a shotgun." - -Crusoe nodded slowly. "By now, you assume, the memory of the loss will -have grown faint?" - -"I hope so. We shall, of course, do our best not to attract attention." - -They moved into the swamp. It was gloomy, but not, thought Crusoe, -frightening. There must have been no more than light rains during the -past weeks, for at first they found it possible to walk along dry -paths, and here and there were pools of mud where ordinarily there must -have been water. But as they penetrated further in, the mud became more -liquid. The leaves of the trees overhead shut out most of the light, -and they walked over soft carpets of moss and decaying leaves. The odor -too became unpleasant, the odor of mud flats and stagnant water, of -small dead animals and impure, stinking marsh gas. - -"Where are we headed for?" said Angel uneasily. "This is kind of dark--" - -"Not too dark to see," said Crusoe. "But I perceive no signs of there -having been a crash." - -"Nor do I," agreed the Professor. "However, the swamp covers an area -of roughly twenty square miles. It will take us a considerable time to -explore it all." - -And in those twenty square miles was the danger which he had felt -hanging over him. He suddenly began to wonder what he would find. A -crashed plane? No, it would be more than that. A crashed plane wouldn't -explain why the people acted and talked so queerly, why the food didn't -taste right, nor the sky look right. - - * * * * * - -The following day Angel stumbled over a half-hidden log and almost -stepped into a trap. As the steel jaws snapped on the log instead of on -his foot, Crusoe thought of another trap, a trap not of steel, but more -relentless, one that gripped more firmly than this ever would. Had it -shut recently, or was it going to shut? - -Angel's cursing distracted him from his thoughts. Professor said -mildly, "Don't use such language, Angel. After all, you _have_ escaped. -And here's another trap--with something in it." - -Angel's eyes glittered. "It's a 'possum. They're good eatin'." He began -to laugh. "Say, won't this guy be sore when he finds two traps sprung, -and nothin' in them!" - -But later that day, when they saw the trapper, it seemed less like -a laughing matter. The man carried a rifle, and as Angel made an -incautious noise, he swung around, rifle butt to his shoulder. Angel -dropped just as the bullet cut through the leaves near where his head -had been. - -And then the trapper's rifle exploded, just as the other rifles had -done. - -The trapper stared at what was left of his weapon in his hand and then -turned and ran. Angel said, "You pointed your finger again!" - -"No," said Crusoe. "Not this time. I just _started_ to point." - -"Maybe it's just the thinkin' about it that does it. Maybe you can do -things by thinkin'." - -"That's absurd." - -"I wonder," said the Professor. "The swamp ahead of us is particularly -nasty. We'll have to wade through water and mud at least to our waists. -And when I remember how muddy you were when I found you, I have a -feeling that you must have wandered through here. Now if we could only -dry up the swamp--" - -"They tried to do it once," said Angel. "It can't be done." - -"But suppose Crusoe were to point his finger at it and think: 'Swamp, -dry up.' I wonder what would happen." - -They were both staring at Crusoe now, and he said, "Nothing would -happen." - -"You can't tell," said Angel. "Maybe Professor's right. Maybe it -_would_ dry up. Try it and see." - -"I refuse to make a fool of myself." - -"The foolish thing," remarked the Professor, "is not to try." - -"Yeah, that trapper will be comin' back after awhile, with his pals. -He'll keep us from goin' back the way we came. We'll have to go ahead. -And I hate to get all muddy. Come on, pal, just point your finger and -think the magic words." - - * * * * * - -He did feel like a fool, and if the other two had seemed at all -skeptical, he would never have dared do it. Nevertheless, there did -seem to be nothing to lose. He pointed his finger at the dark and muddy -water, at the tangle of fallen trees and rotting water lilies, and -concentrated. - -"Think hard," urged the Professor. - -He thought hard and forgot that they were there. Suddenly, a sheet -of blinding flame swept over the swamp. He heard Angel cry out, and -covered his own eyes. When the flame had passed, the water was gone, -and with it the tangle of fallen vegetation. Before them lay a bed of -hard dry clay. - -"You did it," said Angel in awe. - -"I didn't," he replied angrily. "You just can't do things like that by -thinking." - -"I know _I_ can't," said Angel. "But you can. It's magic." - -The Professor smiled. "Let's not worry what it is. The main thing is -that the swamp ahead of us is now dry, and we can go ahead." - -They went ahead. And a quarter mile ahead of them they found the ship. - -It had been easier to locate than he had thought it would be. And once -he saw the ship, a feeling of recognition swept over him. - -Angel had halted and was saying in awe, "This ain't no plane." - -It wasn't. It had been constructed to do more than skim the surface of -a planet. It had been built to bridge the gap from one planet to the -next, from one star to the next. Only fifty feet long, it was a thing -of strength and beauty, with a dull smooth finish that could slip -through an atmosphere with a minimum of friction. He was beginning to -remember a great deal now. The entrance, he knew, was near the nose. -The door closed tight after you went through it, leaving an apparently -unbroken surface of metal, but if you came over to it and put your hand -on a certain plate-- - -He came over to it and hesitated. The Professor asked eagerly, "Is -this--is it a spaceship?" - -"Yes. This is the door, over here. I must have crashed in the swamp and -for some reason staggered out." - -"But how--how does it work?" - -"Like this." - -He raised his hand to the plate, and suddenly the sense of danger -swept over him again. And now he knew where it came from. Not from the -ship itself. No, not from the ship. But from the Professor, the gentle -little man who had been protecting him. - - * * * * * - -He swung around and saw that the little man's forehead was beady with -sweat. The man had been tense, hoping that he would open the door -without remembering too much. The hope had failed. His memory had been -coming back gradually in the past few days. Now the sight of the ship -had brought back everything. Everything. - -He caught sight of the glint of metal in the Professor's hand. "I -thought so," he said. "I thought so." - -Angel's lower jaw had dropped. He stammered, "What is this? Professor, -that ain't a gun, is it?" - -"Much more than a gun," said Crusoe softly. "That's the magic. When I -pointed with my hand, without thinking, it was because I was accustomed -to having a weapon like that. But it was the Professor who actually had -it. It was he who made those rifles explode. And because he didn't want -any one to suspect that he had such a thing on him, he let me have the -credit." - -"It will do you no good to remember," said the Professor. "In the long -run it will do you no good." - -"I wonder. You can cover a great surface with a sheet of flame by using -that thing, you can kill with it, but you can't make me do what you -want. Not now, not after I've remembered who you are." - -"Look," said Angel, "I don't get this. I know the Professor for five, -six years." - -"Not this one," replied Crusoe. "Perhaps the original Professor did -find me wandering around alone. But then my friend here came searching -for me, and after studying his characteristics for a time, killed him -and took his place. He's a great mimic, is my friend. That, in fact, is -why I was sent to get him, and was bringing him, a prisoner, back to -his home planet. He's mimicked all sorts of people, even those who have -only the slightest resemblance to humanoids. It was nothing at all for -him to become a Professor. Physically, of course, he probably doesn't -fit the part too well. Do you mean to say that you haven't noticed?" - -The Professor laughed gently. "Angel wouldn't notice. Haven't you -realized yet that he's half blind? He stumbles, blunders into things. -He can't see well. He didn't notice the difference. Not when I acted so -well." - - * * * * * - -Angel sought escape from confusion in a fact he could understand. He -said pathetically, "You killed the real Professor? He was a guy who -wouldn't have hurt anybody. You killed him?" - -"Of course. I've killed much better and more important people than he -would ever be." - -"He's right, Angel, he's an experienced killer. But all his killing -won't help him now. He needs me to open and operate the ship. And I'm -not cooperating." - -Angel held fast to what he could understand. He muttered to himself, -"The dirty killer. The rat." - -The little man ignored him. He said, "You were very wise, Tlaxon--you -remember your name now?--you were very wise, when you saw that a crash -threatened, to lock the ship's machinery so that only your own personal -characteristic motions would open it again. That was too much for -even me to mimic. Your cleverness left me helpless to escape from the -planet without you. After we finally crashed, and I recovered from the -shock, I examined the ship's machinery. There seemed to be no serious -damage. But I couldn't operate it. I needed your help. And you were -unconscious. Sitting at the controls, you had received a much more -severe shock than I had. You didn't recover for many hours. And after -you did, you remembered nothing. You were still unable to be of use to -me. - -"I was enraged, but there was nothing I could do. I tried to keep you -in the ship, but once, while I was asleep, you awoke and stumbled out. -I had no choice then but to follow you in order to protect you. The -ship locked automatically behind me, leaving me worse off than ever. -But I had to follow because my escape depended on your own. It was then -that Professor discovered you and I discovered him. I had to kill him. -I think you can see why." - -"Yes, I see now." - -"Once our return to the ship was blocked off, we had to hide. I had -to discard our old clothes and steal clothes that would be less -conspicuous. As it was, we ourselves were conspicuous enough. In -the world of ordinary men, we would have been subject to immediate -investigation. It was only among such outcasts as Angel and his friends -that we could to some extent pass ourselves off as natives. When they -met us, the others thought that Angel had at last found friends of his -own kind. Angel, of course, thought he had found the Professor. He was -overjoyed to see me, and his enthusiasm was our passport. Moreover, in -their world, it was not customary to ask questions that a man was not -inclined to answer. There were too many embarrassing secrets on all -sides. - -"I was continually on tenter-hooks with regard to you. I was hoping -that you would remember enough to help operate the ship and escape from -the planet, but not enough to recall who I was. Meanwhile, I watched -with interest how even in your amnesiac state you absorbed the English -language. With our people, Tlaxon, language learning is much more of a -reflex process than it is with these Earthlanders. You learned without -knowing that you were doing so. All the same, your racial peculiarities -prevented you from speaking exactly as the natives do." - - * * * * * - -"That's why I thought that _they_ were the ones who spoke strangely. -All but Angel." - -"Yes, he has the same difficulties with dentate sounds like _t_'s and -_d_'s that we do. Strange how much he resembles us physically too. It -helped people to think of us as three freaks of a kind. Mentally, of -course, there's all the difference in the world." - -"Is there? I wonder if he isn't basically sound. I wonder how well he'd -do if he weren't made to feel like a freak, if he were given a chance -in our own System." - -The smaller man's lips curled in a sneer. "Perhaps an inferior creature -like him would fit in. I'm afraid I never will. I'll tell you what I'll -do, Tlaxon. Once we take off from this planet I'll let you put me down -in one of three places where I have friends. I'll give you your choice -and promise you that no harm will come to you." - -"The rat," muttered Angel hoarsely. "Look, Crusoe, I don't understand -everything you fellows said. But I remember the Professor, the real -Professor. He had a big head, just like me. He used to say a wrestler -could be a highbrow too." - -"A high forehead, such as our own. Yes," agreed the little man. "He -had." - -"And he didn't make fun of me because my face was kinda blue. Other -people used to look at me like I was a freak. They didn't realize that -after I stopped wrestlin' I had to go to work in some factory where the -silver chemicals turned my skin blue. They just thought I was born that -way." - -"We _were_ born that way," said Crusoe gently. "Can't you tell? Or -are your eyes so very bad? That's one reason we would have been so -conspicuous without you. That's why the people looked so strange to me. -Not merely because most of them had low foreheads. But because none of -them were blue. Pink and brown and white, and red and yellow and black, -but no blue. I began to think of them all as freaks." - -"You are as big a freak as any," interrupted the Professor. "I -am giving you a chance for your life. And you prefer to discuss -irrelevancies." - -Crusoe shook his head. "Your offer is rejected. Whatever happens to -me, I do not intend to help you escape." - -"No? You have no choice, friend Tlaxon. I am tired of caring for you -like a baby. Either you accept my offer now or I withdraw it for a -worse one. And I think I know of ways to make you do as I wish." - -It was Crusoe's turn to perspire. He was quite aware that the other -man knew of many painful ways. But he knew too that if he accepted -the original offer, the murderous little man would break his promise -and murder him the moment the ship's controls were freed of their -responsiveness to the characteristics of one man. - - * * * * * - -While Crusoe hesitated, the sharp crack of a rifle broke the silence. -Angel winced and pressed his hand to his right shoulder. A red stain -spread under his fingers. - -Half a dozen men with rifles were advancing across the burned out area -of the swamp. "Attracted by the flame," muttered the Professor. "The -fools." He swung around to cover them with his weapon, keeping one eye -on Crusoe. - -He had written off Angel because of the latter's wound. He should have -remembered the man's tremendous vitality. Just as the weapon went off, -Angel's left hand swung out and caught him under the jaw. A sheet of -flame appeared at treetop level and then died out. The weapon fell to -the ground and Crusoe picked it up. - -The rifles exploded. The next moment the door in the ship's surface had -swung silently open. Crusoe leaped in. - -"So long, pal," said Angel huskily. "This rat killed Professor. I'm -goin' to make sure that he gets his." - -Crusoe shook his head, remembering all the times the big man had -befriended him before. - -"Those men will punish him. You come in here." - -"Huh?" said Angel foolishly. - -"Your one real friend is dead. Do you want to be regarded by the others -as a freak all the rest of your life? Come with me. I'm expected back -with a prisoner. They'll be glad to get you instead. You'll be made -over, given a new life. You'll still be blue, of course--but so will -everyone else. As for _him_, he's past making over. He doesn't deserve -to be treated as we treat most of our prisoners. I'll leave him to your -race and he'll probably be punished for killing the real Professor. -Even if the only thing that happens to him is to remain on Earth and -have no way of getting back to his own planet, that will be punishment -enough. You needn't worry about his getting his." - -Angel moved slowly through the doorway. The metal clanged shut behind -him. The motor purred and the ship began to vibrate so smoothly that -Crusoe could hardly feel it. All was well, he realized; the motor was -unharmed by the crash. For which they were thankful. - -The ship roared into the air. As the forgotten little man, who had been -the danger, screamed unheard, they headed for the nearest star and -home--for both of them. - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORGOTTEN DANGER *** - -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. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg 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: Forgotten danger</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: William Morrison</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: August 15, 2022 [eBook #68753]</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 FORGOTTEN DANGER ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>FORGOTTEN DANGER</h1> - -<h2>BY WILLIAM MORRISON</h2> - -<p>ILLUSTRATED BY FREAS</p> - -<p>Crusoe could remember only one thing—that<br /> -somewhere near some deadly danger<br /> -threatened him! He had no way of knowing<br /> -what it was, or why he was in the swamp.<br /> -Then he found he could work miracles!</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Science Fiction Adventures Magazine, February 1953.<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>He had a feeling that there was something he had to remember, something -urgent, something that had to do with danger. But it was hard to think -of it, it was hard to think at all. There was a dullness in his head -as if he had been too long asleep. And now that he had awakened at -last, he did not know for the moment where he was. He would realize, of -course, once he shook himself and straightened out his mind. But so far -he did not know. Nothing was familiar.</p> - -<p>It was dark, and in the background he saw the silhouettes of bushes, a -bridge, trees. Closer at hand there was a fire over which a large pot -was boiling. Around the fire were four men in ragged clothes. As the -firelight flickered over their faces, casting weird lights upon the -battered features, he studied them carefully. He knew none of them.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>One was a big subtly mis-shapen bull of a man with a three days' beard. -There was power in the set of his shoulders, in his easy slouch as, -with narrowed eyes, he stirred the contents of the pot. Another was -small, with a pointed beard and a shining bald head. The first one, -he gathered from their conversation, was called Angel, the second, -Professor. The other two were of more moderate size. He saw that their -faces assumed strange colors in the light of the leaping flames. He -could not, no matter how hard he tried, gather what their names were. -But he knew that names didn't matter. The thing that mattered was the -danger that somehow threatened and that he couldn't remember.</p> - -<p>Angel lifted something out of the pot with a long spoon, said curtly, -"Stuff's ready," and began to ladle out the steaming mixture. The men -moved toward him with their large tin cups, and then moved back to eat. -The largest portion of all Angel kept for himself. The next largest he -brought to the sitting man, stumbling as he did so over a root that -tangled his shoe. But he caught himself before he had spilled the -contents of the cup and said, "Here y'are, Crusoe."</p> - -<p>Crusoe. A strange name. Not his at all. But he said automatically, -"Thank you."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Angel had lifted a spoonful of the stew to his own mouth. Now he gulped -it down hastily and said, "Hey fellows, he sounds like he came out of -it."</p> - -<p>The other men gathered around him. Professor, staring with sharp eyes, -asked, "Do you recall your real name now?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "I don't remember a thing. How did I get here?"</p> - -<p>"You don't remember that?"</p> - -<p>He said with irritation, "I have just told you so."</p> - -<p>"Don't get huffy, chum," said Angel. "I been feedin' you and takin' -care of you and your pal for two weeks. And you don't know a thing -about it, huh?"</p> - -<p>"I recall nothing. Except that there is danger."</p> - -<p>"The railroad bulls who chased us," said one of the other men. "He -remembers them."</p> - -<p>"Bulls? No, it is something more than that."</p> - -<p>"What about it, Professor?" asked Angel. "Think he'll snap out of it so -he really remembers?"</p> - -<p>"I certainly hope so," returned the little bald man. "When I first -found him, wandering around near the swamp, he seemed to be in a -complete coma. Then, after a few days of rest, he seemed to realize -dimly what was going on around him. But from day to day he remembered -nothing. Perhaps the events are not completely forgotten, perhaps they -reside in his subconscious, ready to be called to mind again upon -proper occasion. However, so far there is no evidence on this point."</p> - -<p>"But he's gettin' better all the time," said Angel defensively.</p> - -<p>"Yes, that is the thing that indicates there is hope. From now on I -think that he will consciously remember all that happens. And perhaps, -in time, he will recall who he really is. In the meantime, of course, -he is like a shipwrecked mariner discovering an entirely strange land. -That is why I have named him Crusoe." He smiled wistfully. "Perhaps he -is more fortunate than he seems. I would give much for his ability to -forget."</p> - -<p>"Stop harpin' on it, Professor. It happened long ago."</p> - -<p>"But I still remember it as keenly as if it had happened yesterday. -Strange, all the whiskey and gin I have drunk have not dulled my memory -in the least. I was very successful in my profession, gentlemen. I was -already an Associate Professor of English Literature, a recognized -authority on the novel. I had a great career ahead of me. And then, one -day, coming home from a Christmas party with my wife, my car skidded on -the ice—"</p> - -<p>Angel's heavy hand fell across his shoulder. "It's okay, Professor, -don't talk about it no more. I know where I can pick up some rotgut -tomorrow night, and you'll celebrate and forget all about it."</p> - -<p>Crusoe listened with interest. He had a vague memory of having heard -Professor's story about his wife's death before, as if the man had told -it to others before they had met Angel and the latter's friends. But it -was so vague that he could hardly be sure it was a memory at all. And -meanwhile the feeling of danger persisted. He had to do something, do -it rapidly. But what?</p> - -<p>He felt the anger of frustration, an anger that made him tense and -irritable. He ate his stew in silence, aware of its strong and slightly -unpleasant taste. He had a feeling as if he were used to better -food—and yet he must have been eating the stew all along for the past -weeks.</p> - -<p>The fire was dying down, and several of the other men talked in low -voices to each other. He heard Angel: "And so this cop says to me, -'Move on, ya funny-lookin' bum—'" And then, the rough voice rose in -amusement. "I give him a airplane whirl and toss him over the bridge. -And then he comes up, coughin' up water, and says, 'Now I remember when -I seen you before. You was the <i>Destroyin' Angel</i>. You used to wrestle -with <i>The Masked McGinty</i>!'"</p> - -<p>Angel had been a wrestler, Professor a student of literature. If he -asked the other men what they had been, they would doubtless know. -What had he himself been?</p> - -<p>Again his mind seemed blank. He sat there sullenly, staring at his -empty cup, and wondered if there were any torture greater than that of -not being able to remember something that insistently demanded to be -remembered.</p> - -<p>Soon the conversations died down. The men settled themselves on the -dry grass, pulled their old worn apologies for blankets over them, and -began to snore. Around them, as the fire was reduced to embers, the -night closed in. Crusoe could hear the chirping of crickets and the -quiet flow of water under the bridge. A crackling shower of sparks -spurted unexpectedly from the still glowing coals.</p> - -<p>He couldn't sleep. He had slept enough during the past weeks. Now he -had to awaken fully, to realize what he must do next. But first he must -recall what had happened. Where had the Professor met him? He had been -wandering around near a swamp. Now, what on earth had he been doing -near a swamp?</p> - -<p>The night passed slowly as he tried to track down the thoughts which -kept eluding him. Even the chirping of the crickets died away, and at -last there was only the ripple of the water. Then, after a time, he -became aware of new sounds. The crunching of twigs under foot, the -creak of shoes on the ground. People were approaching.</p> - -<p>He sat up suddenly, as if he had recognized that <i>this</i> was the danger -he had feared. "Angel!" he called.</p> - -<p>The ex-wrestler awoke, and the Professor with him. "Could be cops," -whispered Angel hoarsely. "Some farmer loses a chicken, and they think -of us. We better get goin'."</p> - -<p>He rose quietly and led the way in the direction opposite the -approaching sounds. Crusoe could hear the heavy breathing of the other -men, almost as if they were continuing to snore even though they were -now awake. They were on the alert, but not seriously alarmed. No, this -wasn't the danger he had to fear. This was a mere trifle. The real -danger was deep, hidden—</p> - -<p>Some one stumbled loudly. A voice came out of the darkness. "Hey, -you—stop!"</p> - -<p>"Better start runnin'," muttered Angel, and lumbered forward. He -tripped over something and cursed, but kept on going.</p> - -<p>It was growing lighter now, and Crusoe found it easier to see. In front -of him the ground rose gently toward the top of a low hill. And halfway -up the slope stood two men, armed with rifles. They lifted the rifles -and one of them said harshly, "Hold it, you bums."</p> - -<p>Their retreat was cut off. Angel came to a stop, the others near -him, the slower and slighter Professor bringing up the rear. Without -thinking, Crusoe raised his arm, and just as if his hand held a weapon, -he pointed at the two men with their rifles.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The rifles exploded. They flew apart into countless fragments, and as -if by magic, blood appeared on the faces of the two men. Angel grasped -the situation instantly. He said, "Come on, fellows," and rushed -forward again. But the two men collapsed before he reached them.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>From behind them came angry yells as the first group realized that the -trap had failed. Angel chuckled. "They thought they had us," he said. -"When they see what happened to those two guys, they won't be in such a -hurry to get close to us again."</p> - -<p>"What did happen?" asked one of the men. He gestured with reluctance at -Crusoe. "This guy just pointed his hand—"</p> - -<p>Angel whirled around. "Him? I thought somebody in back of me threw a -grenade. I wasn't askin' who done it—"</p> - -<p>"Nobody threw no grenade. He just pointed at them."</p> - -<p>"Just with his finger? And them rifles exploded? It ain't possible!"</p> - -<p>They surrounded Crusoe and stared at him with fear-filled eyes. "How -did you do it, pal?"</p> - -<p>He shook his head. "I don't know. I just felt as if a weapon belonged -in my hand, as if all I had to do was point it. So I did. And the -rifles exploded."</p> - -<p>"Point at a tree."</p> - -<p>He pointed at a tree. Nothing happened.</p> - -<p>Angel bounced his hand against his ear, as if trying to shake loose -some water that hampered his hearing. He looked uneasy and bewildered. -"Somethin's screwy, but we can't stop to figure it now. We gotta keep -goin'."</p> - -<p>The pursuers were being more cautious now, and after a time Crusoe -realized that the acuteness of the danger had passed. They all stopped -to rest. The other two men, however, paused only briefly. One of them -said, "So long, chum. We better split up here. We're gonna catch a -freight goin' north."</p> - -<p>They seemed anxious to part from Angel and his friends. Crusoe watched -them go without regret. They were odd-looking men, and he had not -enjoyed their company. Moreover, he had a feeling that they had nothing -to do with the danger the thought of which made him uneasy. Professor, -now—Professor had a little more to do with it.</p> - -<p>Angel's ponderous mind had returned to the subject of their mysterious -escape. He said, "Look, Crusoe, how'd ya do it? You can come clean with -us. We won't spill it to nobody."</p> - -<p>Crusoe said, "I haven't the slightest idea. As I told you, all I did -was point."</p> - -<p>"Any more tricks you know how to pull?"</p> - -<p>"How do I know? I didn't even suspect that I could perform this one."</p> - -<p>"I suppose," said the Professor, "that the reflexes, which existed long -before there was a conscious mind, can continue to persist even after -the mind has been seriously injured. You must have been in the habit of -using some weapon—"</p> - -<p>"A weapon? You mean that I was a soldier? Then what am I doing out of -uniform?"</p> - -<p>"I hardly know," said the Professor slowly. "When I first met you, near -the swamp, you were wearing nothing. Your body was dirty and slightly -burnt, as if from some explosion. There was not a shred of clothes to -give a clue to what you had been. Those you are now wearing, including -your overalls, I ah—borrowed from a clothesline."</p> - -<p>"But there may be traces of my own clothes back in that swamp."</p> - -<p>"They will be hard to find. Swamps have a habit of swallowing what is -left in them."</p> - -<p>"But there must be <i>something</i> there. How did I get to the swamp in the -first place? And what sort of explosion tore my clothes from me?"</p> - -<p>"A plane," said Angel suddenly. "Maybe you were in a crash. I remember -that a coupla months ago some farmers had a story about a plane -explodin' in the sky. Maybe that was the one."</p> - -<p>"If I was in a plane, the wreckage must still be in the swamp." And -there too must be where the danger lay. "I'm going back there," he said -with sudden determination.</p> - -<p>"I'll go with you, of course," said the Professor. "As the first -one to come across you in your helpless condition, I feel a certain -responsibility for you."</p> - -<p>Angel grinned. "I feel the same way about you, Professor. I guess I -been feelin' like that ever since I found you gettin' pushed around -by Monk Cromo. Monk's about my size," he explained to Crusoe. "And he -useta be a fighter. He thought he had only Professor to handle. He -found he had <i>me</i>. And ya know, pal, that a good wrestler will take a -fighter any old time."</p> - -<p>"How long ago was that?" asked Professor. "It seems like ages."</p> - -<p>"Five, six years. But you know somethin', pal, you ain't as helpless as -you used to be. That's what comes of havin' a head on you. You learn -how to get along, no matter where you are."</p> - -<p>"I regard that as a compliment, Angel," smiled the little man. "Now, -shall we start?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Toward the danger that Crusoe felt awaited them in the swamp they could -travel but slowly. They had to go by foot, on dusty narrow roads. There -was no hope of getting a lift from passing cars. One look at the three -of them, and the average driver stepped on the gas and raced away. -Farmers set their dogs on them, and only the sight of Angel's grim face -and the strength of Angel's powerful muscles kept them from being torn -by the hounds and beaten by their masters.</p> - -<p>Everything that happened now Crusoe remembered perfectly. His mind -could go back a day, two days, with no trouble at all. It was only when -it reached that moment when he had become aware of his surroundings at -the fire that his memory stopped short, with terrifying abruptness. -Beyond that it couldn't go. What had he done before then?</p> - -<p>As they made their way toward the swamp, he became aware of something -else. The people here looked strange. Come to think of it, those two -tramps who had been with them earlier had looked strange in the same -way. And the farmers spoke in peculiar fashion, with an accent that -grated slightly on his ear. Queer, he thought, that people who had -lived here all their lives should seem so out of place and learn their -own language so improperly.</p> - -<p>Once, when Angel was foraging for food, a big dangerous-looking dog -came barking at Crusoe and Professor. This was a barking dog that had -never heard that it was not supposed to bite. Crusoe liked neither the -vicious glint in its eyes nor the cruel look of its teeth. As the beast -made a sudden lunge at them, he snapped his fingers sharply and said, -"Scar!"</p> - -<p>The animal came to a halt, as if puzzled. Professor laughed. "I don't -think that's its name," he said, and stooped to pick up a heavy rock -that might serve as a missile. The dog promptly scurried away as fast -as its legs would take it.</p> - -<p>"'Scar' isn't a name," said Crusoe thoughtfully. "I have the feeling -that it's a command. When accompanied by a snap of the fingers, it -tells the animal to go back to its corner."</p> - -<p>"That's interesting. So you're actually beginning to recall things."</p> - -<p>"Not exactly. I'm still responding almost automatically, at little -beyond the reflex level. Before I snapped my fingers I didn't know that -I was going to snap them. Nor did I realize that I knew the word."</p> - -<p>"But at least you've made a beginning," said Professor happily. "Soon -you'll be recalling the past with full consciousness."</p> - -<p>When Angel rejoined them, he was in proud possession of a tough but -edible chicken. Crusoe and Professor congratulated him, and later they -cooked the chicken and devoured it. It struck Crusoe that the taste -of the chicken too was strange. Or was it rather that the chicken was -quite ordinary, and that his own sense of taste was what was unusual? -That must have been it, he thought. The feeling that food tasted good -or bad also depended upon a kind of reflex memory, a memory that was -making itself felt more and more.</p> - -<p>The evening of that same day they camped in an open stubble-covered -field. As it grew dark, Angel began to talk of his past career, of his -triumphs as a wrestler, of his one great adventure in Hollywood to -make a picture. He had been the comic relief, a foil to the handsome -hero. Crusoe had no reason to doubt what he said, but all the same he -found Angel's adventures incredible. The life that the ex-wrestler -described was mad, completely absurd. He couldn't imagine himself -living it.</p> - -<p>He stared up at the sky, and realized that this too didn't look -"normal." It wasn't, it couldn't be, the sky under which he had lived -for most of his life. And the idea of living under a different sky -didn't surprise him. It was an idea to which he must long have been -accustomed.</p> - -<p>Two days later they reached the edge of the swamp. "I found you -near here," said the Professor. He waved his arm vaguely. "You were -wandering around, covered with mud."</p> - -<p>It didn't look familiar. Nor did it look as dangerous as he had -expected it to look. He asked, "Why did we leave this neighborhood? Why -didn't we stay and look for the plane that had crashed?"</p> - -<p>"For one reason," said the Professor gently. "Because at the time I -didn't realize that there had been a plane. For another, because we -were—shall I say, not popular?"</p> - -<p>"Why? Why weren't we?"</p> - -<p>A chuckle from Angel interrupted him. "People don't like to lose -chickens."</p> - -<p>"I see."</p> - -<p>"Nor clothes," added the Professor. "Remember that I supplied you with -garments that were hanging on a clothesline. Perhaps I should have -mentioned that the farmer's wife who discovered her loss tried to -extract payment from me by means of a shotgun."</p> - -<p>Crusoe nodded slowly. "By now, you assume, the memory of the loss will -have grown faint?"</p> - -<p>"I hope so. We shall, of course, do our best not to attract attention."</p> - -<p>They moved into the swamp. It was gloomy, but not, thought Crusoe, -frightening. There must have been no more than light rains during the -past weeks, for at first they found it possible to walk along dry -paths, and here and there were pools of mud where ordinarily there must -have been water. But as they penetrated further in, the mud became more -liquid. The leaves of the trees overhead shut out most of the light, -and they walked over soft carpets of moss and decaying leaves. The odor -too became unpleasant, the odor of mud flats and stagnant water, of -small dead animals and impure, stinking marsh gas.</p> - -<p>"Where are we headed for?" said Angel uneasily. "This is kind of dark—"</p> - -<p>"Not too dark to see," said Crusoe. "But I perceive no signs of there -having been a crash."</p> - -<p>"Nor do I," agreed the Professor. "However, the swamp covers an area -of roughly twenty square miles. It will take us a considerable time to -explore it all."</p> - -<p>And in those twenty square miles was the danger which he had felt -hanging over him. He suddenly began to wonder what he would find. A -crashed plane? No, it would be more than that. A crashed plane wouldn't -explain why the people acted and talked so queerly, why the food didn't -taste right, nor the sky look right.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The following day Angel stumbled over a half-hidden log and almost -stepped into a trap. As the steel jaws snapped on the log instead of on -his foot, Crusoe thought of another trap, a trap not of steel, but more -relentless, one that gripped more firmly than this ever would. Had it -shut recently, or was it going to shut?</p> - -<p>Angel's cursing distracted him from his thoughts. Professor said -mildly, "Don't use such language, Angel. After all, you <i>have</i> escaped. -And here's another trap—with something in it."</p> - -<p>Angel's eyes glittered. "It's a 'possum. They're good eatin'." He began -to laugh. "Say, won't this guy be sore when he finds two traps sprung, -and nothin' in them!"</p> - -<p>But later that day, when they saw the trapper, it seemed less like -a laughing matter. The man carried a rifle, and as Angel made an -incautious noise, he swung around, rifle butt to his shoulder. Angel -dropped just as the bullet cut through the leaves near where his head -had been.</p> - -<p>And then the trapper's rifle exploded, just as the other rifles had -done.</p> - -<p>The trapper stared at what was left of his weapon in his hand and then -turned and ran. Angel said, "You pointed your finger again!"</p> - -<p>"No," said Crusoe. "Not this time. I just <i>started</i> to point."</p> - -<p>"Maybe it's just the thinkin' about it that does it. Maybe you can do -things by thinkin'."</p> - -<p>"That's absurd."</p> - -<p>"I wonder," said the Professor. "The swamp ahead of us is particularly -nasty. We'll have to wade through water and mud at least to our waists. -And when I remember how muddy you were when I found you, I have a -feeling that you must have wandered through here. Now if we could only -dry up the swamp—"</p> - -<p>"They tried to do it once," said Angel. "It can't be done."</p> - -<p>"But suppose Crusoe were to point his finger at it and think: 'Swamp, -dry up.' I wonder what would happen."</p> - -<p>They were both staring at Crusoe now, and he said, "Nothing would -happen."</p> - -<p>"You can't tell," said Angel. "Maybe Professor's right. Maybe it -<i>would</i> dry up. Try it and see."</p> - -<p>"I refuse to make a fool of myself."</p> - -<p>"The foolish thing," remarked the Professor, "is not to try."</p> - -<p>"Yeah, that trapper will be comin' back after awhile, with his pals. -He'll keep us from goin' back the way we came. We'll have to go ahead. -And I hate to get all muddy. Come on, pal, just point your finger and -think the magic words."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He did feel like a fool, and if the other two had seemed at all -skeptical, he would never have dared do it. Nevertheless, there did -seem to be nothing to lose. He pointed his finger at the dark and muddy -water, at the tangle of fallen trees and rotting water lilies, and -concentrated.</p> - -<p>"Think hard," urged the Professor.</p> - -<p>He thought hard and forgot that they were there. Suddenly, a sheet -of blinding flame swept over the swamp. He heard Angel cry out, and -covered his own eyes. When the flame had passed, the water was gone, -and with it the tangle of fallen vegetation. Before them lay a bed of -hard dry clay.</p> - -<p>"You did it," said Angel in awe.</p> - -<p>"I didn't," he replied angrily. "You just can't do things like that by -thinking."</p> - -<p>"I know <i>I</i> can't," said Angel. "But you can. It's magic."</p> - -<p>The Professor smiled. "Let's not worry what it is. The main thing is -that the swamp ahead of us is now dry, and we can go ahead."</p> - -<p>They went ahead. And a quarter mile ahead of them they found the ship.</p> - -<p>It had been easier to locate than he had thought it would be. And once -he saw the ship, a feeling of recognition swept over him.</p> - -<p>Angel had halted and was saying in awe, "This ain't no plane."</p> - -<p>It wasn't. It had been constructed to do more than skim the surface of -a planet. It had been built to bridge the gap from one planet to the -next, from one star to the next. Only fifty feet long, it was a thing -of strength and beauty, with a dull smooth finish that could slip -through an atmosphere with a minimum of friction. He was beginning to -remember a great deal now. The entrance, he knew, was near the nose. -The door closed tight after you went through it, leaving an apparently -unbroken surface of metal, but if you came over to it and put your hand -on a certain plate—</p> - -<p>He came over to it and hesitated. The Professor asked eagerly, "Is -this—is it a spaceship?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. This is the door, over here. I must have crashed in the swamp and -for some reason staggered out."</p> - -<p>"But how—how does it work?"</p> - -<p>"Like this."</p> - -<p>He raised his hand to the plate, and suddenly the sense of danger -swept over him again. And now he knew where it came from. Not from the -ship itself. No, not from the ship. But from the Professor, the gentle -little man who had been protecting him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He swung around and saw that the little man's forehead was beady with -sweat. The man had been tense, hoping that he would open the door -without remembering too much. The hope had failed. His memory had been -coming back gradually in the past few days. Now the sight of the ship -had brought back everything. Everything.</p> - -<p>He caught sight of the glint of metal in the Professor's hand. "I -thought so," he said. "I thought so."</p> - -<p>Angel's lower jaw had dropped. He stammered, "What is this? Professor, -that ain't a gun, is it?"</p> - -<p>"Much more than a gun," said Crusoe softly. "That's the magic. When I -pointed with my hand, without thinking, it was because I was accustomed -to having a weapon like that. But it was the Professor who actually had -it. It was he who made those rifles explode. And because he didn't want -any one to suspect that he had such a thing on him, he let me have the -credit."</p> - -<p>"It will do you no good to remember," said the Professor. "In the long -run it will do you no good."</p> - -<p>"I wonder. You can cover a great surface with a sheet of flame by using -that thing, you can kill with it, but you can't make me do what you -want. Not now, not after I've remembered who you are."</p> - -<p>"Look," said Angel, "I don't get this. I know the Professor for five, -six years."</p> - -<p>"Not this one," replied Crusoe. "Perhaps the original Professor did -find me wandering around alone. But then my friend here came searching -for me, and after studying his characteristics for a time, killed him -and took his place. He's a great mimic, is my friend. That, in fact, is -why I was sent to get him, and was bringing him, a prisoner, back to -his home planet. He's mimicked all sorts of people, even those who have -only the slightest resemblance to humanoids. It was nothing at all for -him to become a Professor. Physically, of course, he probably doesn't -fit the part too well. Do you mean to say that you haven't noticed?"</p> - -<p>The Professor laughed gently. "Angel wouldn't notice. Haven't you -realized yet that he's half blind? He stumbles, blunders into things. -He can't see well. He didn't notice the difference. Not when I acted so -well."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Angel sought escape from confusion in a fact he could understand. He -said pathetically, "You killed the real Professor? He was a guy who -wouldn't have hurt anybody. You killed him?"</p> - -<p>"Of course. I've killed much better and more important people than he -would ever be."</p> - -<p>"He's right, Angel, he's an experienced killer. But all his killing -won't help him now. He needs me to open and operate the ship. And I'm -not cooperating."</p> - -<p>Angel held fast to what he could understand. He muttered to himself, -"The dirty killer. The rat."</p> - -<p>The little man ignored him. He said, "You were very wise, Tlaxon—you -remember your name now?—you were very wise, when you saw that a crash -threatened, to lock the ship's machinery so that only your own personal -characteristic motions would open it again. That was too much for -even me to mimic. Your cleverness left me helpless to escape from the -planet without you. After we finally crashed, and I recovered from the -shock, I examined the ship's machinery. There seemed to be no serious -damage. But I couldn't operate it. I needed your help. And you were -unconscious. Sitting at the controls, you had received a much more -severe shock than I had. You didn't recover for many hours. And after -you did, you remembered nothing. You were still unable to be of use to -me.</p> - -<p>"I was enraged, but there was nothing I could do. I tried to keep you -in the ship, but once, while I was asleep, you awoke and stumbled out. -I had no choice then but to follow you in order to protect you. The -ship locked automatically behind me, leaving me worse off than ever. -But I had to follow because my escape depended on your own. It was then -that Professor discovered you and I discovered him. I had to kill him. -I think you can see why."</p> - -<p>"Yes, I see now."</p> - -<p>"Once our return to the ship was blocked off, we had to hide. I had -to discard our old clothes and steal clothes that would be less -conspicuous. As it was, we ourselves were conspicuous enough. In -the world of ordinary men, we would have been subject to immediate -investigation. It was only among such outcasts as Angel and his friends -that we could to some extent pass ourselves off as natives. When they -met us, the others thought that Angel had at last found friends of his -own kind. Angel, of course, thought he had found the Professor. He was -overjoyed to see me, and his enthusiasm was our passport. Moreover, in -their world, it was not customary to ask questions that a man was not -inclined to answer. There were too many embarrassing secrets on all -sides.</p> - -<p>"I was continually on tenter-hooks with regard to you. I was hoping -that you would remember enough to help operate the ship and escape from -the planet, but not enough to recall who I was. Meanwhile, I watched -with interest how even in your amnesiac state you absorbed the English -language. With our people, Tlaxon, language learning is much more of a -reflex process than it is with these Earthlanders. You learned without -knowing that you were doing so. All the same, your racial peculiarities -prevented you from speaking exactly as the natives do."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"That's why I thought that <i>they</i> were the ones who spoke strangely. -All but Angel."</p> - -<p>"Yes, he has the same difficulties with dentate sounds like <i>t</i>'s and -<i>d</i>'s that we do. Strange how much he resembles us physically too. It -helped people to think of us as three freaks of a kind. Mentally, of -course, there's all the difference in the world."</p> - -<p>"Is there? I wonder if he isn't basically sound. I wonder how well he'd -do if he weren't made to feel like a freak, if he were given a chance -in our own System."</p> - -<p>The smaller man's lips curled in a sneer. "Perhaps an inferior creature -like him would fit in. I'm afraid I never will. I'll tell you what I'll -do, Tlaxon. Once we take off from this planet I'll let you put me down -in one of three places where I have friends. I'll give you your choice -and promise you that no harm will come to you."</p> - -<p>"The rat," muttered Angel hoarsely. "Look, Crusoe, I don't understand -everything you fellows said. But I remember the Professor, the real -Professor. He had a big head, just like me. He used to say a wrestler -could be a highbrow too."</p> - -<p>"A high forehead, such as our own. Yes," agreed the little man. "He -had."</p> - -<p>"And he didn't make fun of me because my face was kinda blue. Other -people used to look at me like I was a freak. They didn't realize that -after I stopped wrestlin' I had to go to work in some factory where the -silver chemicals turned my skin blue. They just thought I was born that -way."</p> - -<p>"We <i>were</i> born that way," said Crusoe gently. "Can't you tell? Or -are your eyes so very bad? That's one reason we would have been so -conspicuous without you. That's why the people looked so strange to me. -Not merely because most of them had low foreheads. But because none of -them were blue. Pink and brown and white, and red and yellow and black, -but no blue. I began to think of them all as freaks."</p> - -<p>"You are as big a freak as any," interrupted the Professor. "I -am giving you a chance for your life. And you prefer to discuss -irrelevancies."</p> - -<p>Crusoe shook his head. "Your offer is rejected. Whatever happens to -me, I do not intend to help you escape."</p> - -<p>"No? You have no choice, friend Tlaxon. I am tired of caring for you -like a baby. Either you accept my offer now or I withdraw it for a -worse one. And I think I know of ways to make you do as I wish."</p> - -<p>It was Crusoe's turn to perspire. He was quite aware that the other -man knew of many painful ways. But he knew too that if he accepted -the original offer, the murderous little man would break his promise -and murder him the moment the ship's controls were freed of their -responsiveness to the characteristics of one man.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>While Crusoe hesitated, the sharp crack of a rifle broke the silence. -Angel winced and pressed his hand to his right shoulder. A red stain -spread under his fingers.</p> - -<p>Half a dozen men with rifles were advancing across the burned out area -of the swamp. "Attracted by the flame," muttered the Professor. "The -fools." He swung around to cover them with his weapon, keeping one eye -on Crusoe.</p> - -<p>He had written off Angel because of the latter's wound. He should have -remembered the man's tremendous vitality. Just as the weapon went off, -Angel's left hand swung out and caught him under the jaw. A sheet of -flame appeared at treetop level and then died out. The weapon fell to -the ground and Crusoe picked it up.</p> - -<p>The rifles exploded. The next moment the door in the ship's surface had -swung silently open. Crusoe leaped in.</p> - -<p>"So long, pal," said Angel huskily. "This rat killed Professor. I'm -goin' to make sure that he gets his."</p> - -<p>Crusoe shook his head, remembering all the times the big man had -befriended him before.</p> - -<p>"Those men will punish him. You come in here."</p> - -<p>"Huh?" said Angel foolishly.</p> - -<p>"Your one real friend is dead. Do you want to be regarded by the others -as a freak all the rest of your life? Come with me. I'm expected back -with a prisoner. They'll be glad to get you instead. You'll be made -over, given a new life. You'll still be blue, of course—but so will -everyone else. As for <i>him</i>, he's past making over. He doesn't deserve -to be treated as we treat most of our prisoners. I'll leave him to your -race and he'll probably be punished for killing the real Professor. -Even if the only thing that happens to him is to remain on Earth and -have no way of getting back to his own planet, that will be punishment -enough. You needn't worry about his getting his."</p> - -<p>Angel moved slowly through the doorway. The metal clanged shut behind -him. The motor purred and the ship began to vibrate so smoothly that -Crusoe could hardly feel it. All was well, he realized; the motor was -unharmed by the crash. For which they were thankful.</p> - -<p>The ship roared into the air. As the forgotten little man, who had been -the danger, screamed unheard, they headed for the nearest star and -home—for both of them.</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FORGOTTEN DANGER ***</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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. 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