Battles for the Stars Ed Reads Short Sci-fi vol III - Various

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Story 2 of Battles for the Stars.

In space!

Ed Reed Short Sci-Fi, Volume 3.

This

Lebevox recording is in the public domain.

Slaughter on Darnell 4 by Ivor Jorgensen

Larry Fillmore stared at his beer and mentally roasted his fight manager for the fiftieth time.

Human beings were supposed to be the toughest race that the galaxy had ever spawned, but as a fighter, Larry didn't put too much faith in the theory.

He had fought a good many races throughout the galaxy, and although he had always come out the winner, he had plenty of scars to show for it.

he looked around the bar it was full of various beings none of them human except himself what am i doing here he asked himself i'm sitting in a cheap little bar on dornell four waiting for a denalian fighter to kill me tomorrow but there was no way out of it puma thought bitterly blackmer his manager had the whole thing sewed up larry had found out three months before that blackmer was cheating him but that had been too late according to the contract larry had to finish the season or go to prison if he quit he would according to the law be cheating his manager on the other hand if he got killed during the battle his entire check would go to blackmer So Blackmer had done the smart thing.

For him.

He had lined up Lowry with Fornax Kedron, the champion of Darnell.

The Darnellians were big, eight feet high, with fingers that ended in razor-sharp claws.

Of course, Lowry would be provided with steel extensions on his fingers, but they wouldn't help much.

Lowry had never learned to use them.

Fornax Kedron killed him in the first round.

larry took another sip of his beer and stared forlornly at the bar with his fingers he traced meaningless designs in the moisture left by the cold glass maybe he was taking the coward's way out but it was the only way he could see better a live coward he thought than a dead hero another bar bartender he called finishing the one he held coming up earth man the beer arrived and he took a sip preening the hell with it he thought happily he

was

going to get himself

completely stewed to-night

live high die young and have a good-looking corpse or maybe it would be better simply to get aboard a spaceship and try to get away maybe the interstellar police would never find him he shook his head dismally that wouldn't work either nothing would work if only he'd had some practice fighting a denelian he reached out for his beer not noticing that someone had taken the vacant seat next to him his elbow collided with a glass the glass tipped pouring a green bubbling liquor all over the donellian sitting next to him stupid earth men snapped the donellian contemptuously a

clumsy beast like

you shouldn't be allowed to enter a public place With one hairy paw, the Denelian shoved against Larry's shoulder, intending to push him off the barstool.

Larry moved back, more in astonishment than anything else.

He hadn't known that Denelians had any particular prejudice against Earthmen.

There was unmistakable racial hatred in the alien's voice.

He put out his hand to the bar and stopped himself from falling off the stool.

What's the idea of that? Larry growled.

That was an accident.

Are you trying to argue with me? Here's the rest of the drink.

the dernelian laughed and heaved the remaining contents of the glass in larry's face a blinding tide of red fury washed over larry without thinking reacting purely by instinct he lashed out at the dernelian his fist didn't contact it was blocked by the heavy forearm of his opponent a hand raked out at larry a hand with six fingers each of which was tipped with long cutting talons lowry moved his head aside barely in time the talons raked across his cheek drawing blood if he hadn't ducked the cut would have ripped his throat open the denelian's other hand slashed out lowry blocked it with his own arm and sent a hard left to the midsection of the eight-foot monster the denelian backed away snarling the fight was on for real now Little Earthman, I'm going to kill you! He leaped in suddenly and his fist smashed against Larry's face.

Larry rolled with the blow, but it brought the taste of blood to his mouth.

His feet moving fast, the Earthman bobbed back away from the giant.

He felt a glow of pleasure within himself.

Here was the chance to practice a little with the Denelian.

What better training was there for a championship bout than a bar and ball? He had to watch out for those claws, though, those deadly razors that sprouted from the Denelian's fingertips.

Two other Denelians started to move in, but an Aldebaranian, a huge reptilian beast, slow moving but powerful, stepped in front of them.

he hissed

in

his snake-like voice larry heard an arcturian spider-man click his mandibles together and whisper yes let the earthman fight it out by himself larry wasn't too worried he had fought to the death on half a hundred planets and hadn't been killed yet an ordinary denelian didn't bother him much he moved in confidently for the knockout his fist lashed out but his opponent was even faster Larry connected with nothing but empty air, and the Dunellian's claws raked down his side as the other hand slammed against the side of his head.

Dazed, Larry danced back.

His arm was dripping blood, and his head felt groggy and heavy.

The Dunellian threw a left jab, and Larry blocked it with his own left arm.

But the giant had done something unexpected.

Instead of striking with his closed fist, he had suddenly extended his fingers.

The sharp claws stabbed deep into the muscle of the Earthman's forearm, sending a wave of pain to his shoulder.

Again, Larry backed away, his arm aching from the wounds.

Quickly, he reversed his direction and stepped back in.

This time he used a kick, but the Dernalian sidestepped.

The toe of Larry's boot caught his hip.

Cursing, the Dernalian closed in.

He punched a hand forward.

Claws extended.

Larry stepped to one side and grabbed the hairy wrist.

using the giant's strength and weight to his own advantage he propelled the monster across the room slamming him up against the bar then he leaped forward to smash in the denelian's ribcage with his heavy boots he was not quick enough the giant rolled aside and sprang to his feet snarling viciously he advanced toward the earthman one hand came down in a hard chopping blow larry managed to fend it off but the donellian's other hand slugged into the pit of his stomach weak with pain larry staggered back he aimed a kick at the alien's shin and it connected hard taking advantage of his opportunity larry stepped in his heel came down on the donellian's toes at the same time that his fist slammed into the bristly jaw the giant reeled backwards his taloned hands slashing through the air he regained his balance and came forward again but this time larry was ready for him the denelian stepped square into a blow to the stomach oddly enough it didn't seem to bother him much then larry remembered that the denelian nervous system wasn't much like an earthman's the nerves just weren't in the same places but where were they again he cursed blackmer the manager hadn't told him anything about denelians they let him sign for the fight with fornax kedron even though it would be sure murder well larry thought somberly i'll learn to-night if i ever get out of this bar alive he took a deep breath and glanced at the giant who had recovered from larry's onslaught The Dunellian stepped in with a fast one-two, a rake across the face with his left and a smash to the heart with his right.

The claws to his face alerted Larry for the blow to the heart.

He stepped back just enough to avoid being really hurt.

But the Dunellian's talons had raked his forehead, cutting in deeply.

Blood was pouring down off his eyes.

He took a quick look around the bar.

The customers were gathered in a ring and were watching the contest wide-eyed.

as if they were on fifty credit ringside seats the denelian still looked relatively unscratched while larry knew he looked as though he had rolled over a barbed wire fence but in spite of the blood larry had finally gotten the measure of his opponent the eight-foot giant weighed close to five hundred pounds his mass was too great for him to be able to handle his body rapidly no matter how fast his reflexes were larry moved in again he planted a hard right directly in the giant's throat there had to be nerves there the denelian gagged and dropped his head larry smiled and slammed his fist into the giant's ribcage doubling him up even more he could almost hear the crowd cheering now as he moved in for the kill he sucked in his breath and lifted one foot from the floor his right fist came up from his knees gaining speed as it rose like a hammer it crashed into the hairy jaw of the dernelian and larry could feel bones splintering against his knuckles like an oak with rotten roots the great dernelian toppled to the floor He landed with a crash that seemed to shake the building.

Larry stood over the fallen giant for a moment, catching his breath, wondering when the referee was going to start to count.

Then he realized there wasn't going to be any count.

There wasn't any referee.

His arms were quivering, and his face was dripping with blood.

He turned away, mopping his face clean, and started to pick up his unfinished beer when the wailing of sirens echoed through the bar.

police someone had called the donellian police the arcturian spider-man sidled up to him well done earthman he said in his whispering voice come with me as i have a car outside Without another word, the Arcturian scuttled toward the door.

Larry paused for a fraction of a second before making up his mind.

As well trust the Arcturian as anyone.

If the police caught him, his life wouldn't be worth a counterfeit credit.

No one tried to stop him as he ran out the door.

The Arcturian's car was waiting just outside.

Larry climbed in, and the Spider-Man slammed one of his many feet down on the accelerator.

The car shot off into the night, its turbo-electric engine humming smoothly.

"'Well, Earthman,' said the grating, whispering voice, "'you made hash out of the Dernalian.

"'Frankly, I was surprised.' So was I, Larry said.

I don't know why I'm bothering to run away.

All I have to do is pick me up at my hotel.

The Arcturian chuckled dryly.

Now, I don't think anyone recognized you.

Don't

forget that all Earthsmen look alike to other beings.

You're the reason I know who you are is that I'm a fan of yours.

I was glad to see you beat that Dornelian, believe me.

thanks larry said it is not going to do me any good when i get into the ring against fernax kedron if an ordinary denelian citizen puts up a fight like that what am i going to do against a professional boxer the octurian laughed again just get in

there and fight fillmore

you can handle him i'm sure you can A car pulled up before the hotel where Larry and his manager were staying, and Larry got out.

The Arcturian waved to him and drove off.

Wearily, Larry dragged himself inside and into the elevator.

"'Seventeen, please.' "'Yes, sir, Mr. Flaymore,' said the Denelian elevator boy.

he pushed open the door to his room and dropped on the bed dead tired he didn't dare look in the mirror he was afraid to see what a mess the denelian had made out of his face which hadn't been any too neat before he called there was no answer the manager was not around larry got up looked bleary-eyed into the other room and seeing no one, dropped off into a deep sleep.

His last thought, before he blacked out, was that he'd get into the ring and do his best.

He'd already beaten one Donelian.

How tough could Fornax Kedron be? And what did it matter, anyway? He was bound to get killed sooner or later, anyway.

That was the unspoken assumption every fighter operated under.

when he woke the following morning he didn't feel quite so certain about things the brawl the night before had taken a terrific toll on his nervous system and he knew that he'd be butchered if he stepped into the ring with a denelian champ he was in no condition to fight blackmer you hear the manager's bed had been slept in but there was no sign of him larry groped for the house phone grabbed it broke into it you know where mr blackmer is he's in the bar sir said the

switchboard boy "'Do you want me to call in for you?'

"'Yes, please.' A moment later Larry heard the manager's harsh voice.

"'Blackmurray, who's calling?' "'This is Larry.

I'm ready for that fight, Blackmur,' he said, helping it have the strength to go through with it.

"'And after I get through with the Dornelian, I'm going to knock your teeth in.

This is my last fight for you.' "'Now, Larry,' Blackmur said.

"'Don't be hasty.

I—' "'Shut up, or quits.

I may get killed in that ring, but I'll fight just this once, and—' "'What, haven't you heard? The fight's off.' Larry blinked

in astonishment.

How would I have heard? I thought the news was all over.

Why, I didn't bother to wake you.

Fornax Kedron is in the hospital.

He got his jaw broken in a bar brawl last night.

Nobody knows who did it.

But I've got another bout lined up, and Donal rang six

with Skepit, Larry said.

I'll discuss it with you some other time.

Larry slowly dropped the receiver back on the hook.

He grinned,

and then he began to laugh.

THE HOUR OF BATTLE by Robert Sheckley that hand didn't move did it edwardson

asked standing at the port looking at the stars no morse said he had been staring fixedly at the addison detector for over an hour now he blinked three times rapidly and looked again not a millimetre i don't think it moved either Castle added, from behind the gunfire panel.

And that was that.

The slender black hand of the indicator rested unwaveringly on zero.

The ship's guns were ready, their black mouths open to the stars.

A steady hum filled the room.

It came from the Edison detector, and the sound was reassuring.

It reinforced the fact that the detector was attached to all the other detectors, forming a gigantic network around Earth.

Why in the hell don't they come? Edwardson asked, still looking at the stars.

Why don't they hit? Oh, shut up, Morse said.

He had a tired, glum look.

High on his right temple was an old radiation burn, a sunburst of pink scar tissue.

From a distance it looked like a decoration.

I just wish they'd come, Edwardson said.

He returned from the port to his chair, bending to clear the low metal ceiling.

Don't you wish they'd come? Edwardson had the narrow, timid face of a mouse, but a highly intelligent mouse, one that cats did well to avoid.

Don't you? he repeated.

The other men didn't answer.

They had settled back to their dreams, staring hypnotically at the detective face.

They've had enough time, Edwardson said, half to himself.

Castle yawned and licked his lips.

Anyone want to play some gin?

he asked stroking his beard the beard was a memento of his undergraduate days cattle maintained he could store almost fifteen minutes worth of oxygen in its follicles he had never stepped into space unhelmeted to prove it moss looked away and edwardson automatically watched the indicator this routine had been drilled into them branded into their subconscious they would as soon have cut their throats as leave the indicator unguarded do you think they'll come soon edwardson asked his brown rodent's eyes on the indicator the men didn't answer him after two months together in space their conversational powers were exhausted they weren't interested in kessel's undergraduate days or in morse's conquests they were bored to death even with their own thoughts and dreams bored with the attack they expected momentarily just one thing i'd like to know edwardson said slipping with ease into an old conversational gambit how far can they do it they had talked for weeks about the enemy's telepathic range but they always returned to it as professional soldiers they couldn't help but speculate on the enemy and his weapons it was their shop talk well morse said wearily our detective network covers the system out beyond mars orbit Where we sit, Castle said, watching the indicators now that the others were talking.

They might not even know we have a detection unit working, Marsh said, as he had said a thousand times.

Oh, stop, Edwardson said, his thin face twisted in scorn.

They're telepathic.

They must have read every bit of stuff in Everset's mind.

Everset didn't know we had a detection unit, Marsh said, his eyes returning to the dial.

It was captured before we had it.

Look, Edwardson said.

They ask him,

boy, what would you do if he knew a telepathic race was coming to take over Earth? How would you guard the planet? Idle speculation, Castle said.

Maybe Everset didn't think of this.

He thinks like a man, doesn't he? Everyone agreed on this defense.

Everset would, too.

Syllogistic, Castle murmured.

Very shaky.

I sure wish he hadn't been captured, Edwardson said.

it could have been worse morse put in his face sadder than ever what if they'd captured both of them i wish they'd come edwardson said Richard Eversett and C.R. Jones had gone on the first interstellar flight.

They had found an inhabited planet in the region of Vaguer.

The rest was standard procedure.

The flip of the coin had decided it.

Eversett went down in the scouter, maintaining radio contact with Jones in the ship.

The recording of that contact was preserved for all Earth to hear.

Just met the natives, Eversett said.

Funny-looking bunch.

Give you the physical description later.

are they trying to talk to you

jones asked guiding the ship in a slow spiral over the planet no hold it well i'm damned they're telepathic how do you like that

great

jones said go on hold it see jonesy i don't know as i like these boys they haven't got nice minds brother

what is

it jones asked lifting the ship a little higher minds these bastards are power crazy seems they'll hit all the systems around here looking for someone to yeah i got that a bit wrong eversett said pleasantly they're not so bad jones had a quick mind a suspicious nature and good reflexes he set the accelerator for all the g's he could take lay down on the floor and said tell me more come on down haversett said in violation of every law of space flight these guys are all right as a matter of fact they're the most marvelous that was where the recording ended because jones was pinned to the floor by twenty g's acceleration as he boosted the ship to the level needed for the sea jump he broke three ribs getting home but he got there a telepathic species was on the march what was earth going to do about it a lot of speculation necessarily clothed the bare bones of jones's information evidently the species could take over a mind with ease with everset it seemed that they had insinuated their thoughts into his delicately altering his previous convictions They had possessed him, remarkable ease.

How about Jones? Why hadn't they taken him? Was distance a factor? Or hadn't they been prepared for the suddenness of his departure? One thing was certain.

Everything Everset knew, the enemy knew.

that meant they knew where earth was and how defenseless the planet was to their form of attack it could be expected that they were on their way something was needed to nullify their tremendous advantage but what sort of something what armor is there against thought how do you dodge a wavelength pouch hide scientists bravely consulted their periodic tables And how do you know when a man has been possessed? Although the enemy was clumsy with Everset, would they continue to be clumsy? Wouldn't they learn? Psychologists tore their hair and bewailed the absence of an absolute scale for humanity.

Of course, something had to be done at once.

The answer from a technological planet was a technological one.

build a space fleet and equip it with some sort of a detection fire network that was done in record time the atteson detector was developed the cross between radar and the electroencephalograph any alteration from the typical human brain wave pattern of the occupants of a detector equipped ship would boost the indicator around the dial even a bad dream or a case of indigestion would char it it seemed probable that any attempt to take over a human mind would disturb something there had to be a point of interaction somewhere that was what the atteson detector was supposed to detect maybe it would The spaceships, three men to a ship, dotted space between Earth and Mars, forming a gigantic sphere with Earth in the center.

Tens of thousands of men crouched behind gunfire panels, watching the dials on the Atterson detector.

The unmoving dials.

you think i could fire a couple of bursts edwardson asked his fingers on the gunfire button just to limber the guns those guys don't need limbering castle said stroking his beard besides you'd throw the whole fleet into a panic castle morris said very quietly get your hand off your beard why should i castle asked because hoss answered almost in a whisper i am about to ram it

right down your

fat throat castle grinned and tightened his fists pleasure he said i'm tired of looking at that scar of yours he stood up Cut it, Edwardson said wearily.

Watch the birdie.

No reason to, really, Moss said, leaning back.

There's an alarm bell attached.

But he looked at the dial.

What if the bell doesn't work? Edwardson asked.

What if the dial is jammed? How would you like something cold slithering into your mind? The dial will work, Castle said.

His eyes shifted from Edwardson's face to the motionless indicator.

I think I'll sack in, Edwardson said.

Stick around, Castle said.

Play you some gin.

All right.

Edgerton found and shuffled the greasy cards while Morse took a turn, glaring at the dial.

I sure wish they'd come, he said.

Cut, Edgerton said, handing the pack to Castle.

I wonder what our friends look like, Morse said, watching the dial.

Probably remarkably like us, Edgerton said, dealing the cards.

Castle picked them up, one by one, slowly, as if he hoped something interesting would be under them.

They should have given us another man, Castle said.

We could play bridge.

I don't play bridge, Edwardson said.

You could line.

Why don't we send a task force, Moss asked.

Why don't we bomb their planet? Don't be dumb, Edwardson said.

We'd lose any ship we sent.

Probably get them back at us, possessed and firing.

Knock with nine, Castle said.

I don't give a good damn if you knock with a thousand, Edwison said gaily.

How much do I owe you now? Three million five hundred and eighty thousand and ten dollars.

I sure wish they'd come, Marsh said.

Want me to write a check? Take your time.

Take until next week.

Someone should reason with the bastards, Marsh said, looking at the port.

Castle immediately looked at the dial.

I just thought of something, Edwison said.

yeah i bet it feels horrible to have your mind grabbed edwardson said i bet it's awful you'll know when it happens castle said did avocet probably he just couldn't do anything about it my mind feels fine castle said But the first one of you guys starts acting queer.

Watch out.

The owl laughed.

Well, Edgerton said, I'd sure like a chance to reason with him.

This is stupid.

Why not? Castle asked.

You mean go out and meet them? Sure, Castle said.

We're doing no good sitting here.

I should think we could do something, Edgerton said slowly.

After all, they're not invincible.

They're reasoning beings.

Morse punched a course in the ship's tape and looked up.

you think we should contact the command tell them what we're doing no castle said and edwardson nodded in agreement red tape we'll just go out and see what we can do if they won't talk we'll blast em out of space Look! Out of the port, they could see the red flare of a reaction engine, the next ship in their sector speeding forward.

They must have got the same idea, Edwardson said.

Let's get there first, Castle said.

Morse shoved the accelerator in, and they were thrown back in their seats.

That dial hasn't moved yet, has it? Edwardson asked, over the clamor of the detector alarm bell.

nor a move out of it castle said looking at the dial with its indicator slammed all the way

over to the highest notch story three story four of battles for the stars

In Space.

Ed Reed Short Sci-Fi, Volume 3.

This Lebevox recording is in the public domain.

Defense Mech by Ray Bradbury.

oh my god

do you realize how far from earth we are do you really think about it it's enough to scare the guts from a man hold me up do something give me sedatives i'll hold my hand or run called mamma a million cold miles up see all the flickering stars look at my hands tremble feel my heart whirling like a hot pinwheel the captain comes toward me a stunned expression on his small tight face he takes my arm looking into my eyes hello captain i'm sick if that's what you want to know i've a right to be scared just look at all that space standing here a moment ago i stared down at earth so round and cloud-covered and asleep on a mat of stars and my brain tore loose and screamed man man how do you get in a mess like this in a rocket a million miles past the moon shooting for mars with a crew of fourteen others i can hardly stand up my knees my hands my heart are shaking apart hold me up sir

what are hysterics like the captain unprungs the interdeck audio and speaks swiftly

scowling into it i hope he's phoning the psychiatrist i need something oh damn it damn it damn it

The psychiatrist descends the ladder in immaculate salt-white uniform and walks toward me in a

dream.

Hello, doctor.

You're the one for me.

Please, sir, turn this damn rocket around and fly back to New York.

I'll go crazy with all this space and distance.

The

psychiatrist and the captain's voices murmur and blend with here and there an emphasis, a toss of head, a

gesture.

Young Halloway, he is on a fair jag, doctor.

Can you help him? I'll try.

Good man, Halloway is.

Imagine we'll need him and his muscles when we land.

With a crow as small as it is, every man's worth his weight in uranium.

He's got to be cured.

The psychiatrist shakes his head.

might have to squirt him full of drugs to keep him quiet the rest of the expedition the captain explodes saying that is impossible

blood drums in my head the doctor moves closer smelling clean sharp and white please understand captain this man is definitely psychotic about going home his talk is almost a reversion to childhood i can't refuse his demands and his fear seems too deeply based for reasoning

however i think i have an idea halloway yes sir help me doctor i want to go home i want to see popcorn exploding into a buttered avalanche inside a glass cube i want to roller skate i want to climb into the old cool wet ice wagon and go chick-chick-chick on the ice with a sharp pick i want to take long sweating hikes in the country see big brick buildings and bright-faced people fight the old gang anything but this awful

the psychiatrist rubs his chin

all right son you can go back to earth now to-night again the captain explodes you can't tell matt we're landing on mars to-day the

psychiatrist pats down the captain patiently

please

captain

well halloway back to new york for you how does it sound

i'm not so scared now we're going down on the moving ladder and here is the psychiatrist's cubicle He's pouring lights into my eyes.

They revolve like stars in a disc.

Lots of strange machines around.

Attachments to my head, my ears.

Sleepy, oh, so sleepy.

Like under warm water, being pushed around, laved, washed, quiet.

Oh, gosh, sleepy.

Listen to me, Halloway.

Sleepy doctor's talking, very soft, like feathers, soft, soft.

You're going to land on Earth, no matter what they tell you, you're landing on Earth.

No matter what happens, you'll be on Earth.

Everything you see and do will be like on Earth.

Remember that.

Remember that.

You won't be afraid, because you'll be on Earth.

Remember that.

Over and over.

You'll land on Earth in an hour.

Home.

Home again.

No matter what anyone says.

oh yes sir home again sleepy home again drifting sleeping oh thank you sir thank you from the bottom of my drowsy sleepy soul yes sir yes sir sleepy drifting

i'm awake hey everybody come look here comes earth right at us like a giant like a green moss ball off a bat coming at us in a curve

check stations miles landing go into bulger's tossed atmosphere get into your what did he say

your baseball uniform halloway your baseball uniform yes sir my baseball uniform well i put it over here head into legs into feet into there ah this is great picture in here oh boy oh boy smack you yes sir it's over in that metal locker i'll take it out head arms legs into it i'm dressed baseball uniform ah this is great picture in here oh boy oh boy smack you

adjust bulgerham it's check oxygen what

put on your catcher's mask holloway

oh the mask slides down over my face like that the captain comes rushing up eyes hot green and angry

doctor what's this infernal nonsense

You wanted Holloway able to do his work, didn't you, Captain?

Yes, but what in the hell have you done to him? Strange.

As they talk, I hear their words flow over my head like a wave dashed on a sea-stone, but the words drain off, leaving no imprint.

As soon as some words invade my head, something eats and digests them, and I think the words are something else entirely.

The psychiatrist nods at me.

i couldn't change his basic desire given time yes a period of months i could have but you need him now so against all the known ethics of my profession which say one must never lie to a patient i followed along in his own thought channel i didn't dare frustrate him he wanted to go home So I let him.

I've given him a fantasy.

I've set up a protective defense mechanism in his mind that refuses to believe certain realities, that evaluates all things from its own desire for security and home.

His mind will automatically block any thought or image that endangers that security.

The captain stares wildly.

Then,

then

Halloway's insane.

Would you have him mad with fear, or able to work on Mars, hindered by only a slight, tetched condition? Coddle him, and he'll do fine.

Just remember we're landing on Earth, not Mars.

Earth, Mars, you'll have me raving next.

The doctor and the captain certainly talk

weirdly.

Who

cares? Here comes Earth, green, expanding like a moist cabbage underfoot.

Mars landing, airlock

opening.

Use

bulger oxygen.

Here we go, gang, last one out is a pink chimpanzee.

All away, come back, you damn fool, you'll kill yourself.

the good sweet earth home again praise the lord let's dance

sing off key laugh ha oh boy halloa come back look behind you you fool i whirl about and cry happily shep shep old dog he comes running to meet me long fur shining amber in the sunshine barking shep i haven't seen you in years good old pooch come here let me pet you the captain shrieks don't pet it it looks like a carnivorous martian worm man the jaws on that thing how do i use your knife shep snarls and shows his teeth shep what's wrong that's no way to greet me come on shep i pull back my fingers as his swift jaws snap shep circles me swiftly you haven't rabies have you shep he darts in snatches my ankle with strong locking white teeth lord shep you're crazy i can't let this go on and he used to be such a fine beautiful dog remember all the hikes we took into the lazy corn country by the red barns and deep wells shep clenches tight my ankle i'll give him one more chance shep let go where did this long knife come from in my hand like

magic sorry to do this shep but

there

shep screams thrashing screams again my arm pumps up and down my gloves are freckled with blood flakes don't scream shep i said i was

sorry didn't i get out there you man and bury that beast immediately i glare at

the

captain don't talk that way about ship

the captain stares at my ankle sorry halloway i meant bury that dog you men give him full honours you were lucky son another second and then those nice teeth had bored through you like

ankle-cuff metal i don't know what he means i'm wearing sneakers sir oh yes so you are yes well i'm sorry halloway i know how you must feel about he was a fine dog i think about it a moment and my eyes fill up wet there'll be a picnic and a hike the captain says three hours now the boys have carried luggage from the metal house the way they'll talk this'll be some picnic some seem afraid but who worries about copperheads and water moccasins and crawfish not me no sir not me gaspard sweating beside me on some apparatus squints at me what's eating you hellaway i smile me nothing why you and that act with that martian worm what are you talking about what worm the captain interrupts nervously

berts lay off holloway the doctor will explain ask him berts goes away scratching his head the captain pats my shoulder you're

a strong-arm

man

holloway you've got muscles from working on the rocket engine so keep alert to-day eh on your hike to look over the territory keep your bee-bee gun ready beavers

do

you think so

the captain swallows hard and blinks beavers yeah beavers sure beavers maybe mountain lions and indians too

i hear

never can tell

be careful

Mountain lions and Indians in New York in this day and age.

Oh,

sir.

Let it go.

Keep alert, anyhow.

Smoke?

I don't smoke, sir.

A strong mind and a healthy body.

You know the old rule.

The old rule.

Oh, yes, the old rule.

Only joking.

I don't want to smoke anyway.

Like hell.

What was that last, sir?

Nothing, Halloway.

Carry on, carry on.

I

hope the others work now.

Are we taking the yellow streetcar to the edge of town, Gus? We're using propulsion belts, skimming low over the Dead Sea.

How's that again, Gus? I said we're taking the yellow streetcar to the end of the line, yeah.

ready everyone's packed spreading out we're going in groups of four down main street past the pie factory over the bridge through the tunnel past the circus grounds and we'll rendezvous says the captain at a place he points to in a queer disjointed map whoosh we're off i forgot to pay my fare that's okay i paid it thanks captain we're really travelling the cypresses and the maples flash by kawoom i wouldn't admit this to anyone but you sir but momentarily there i didn't see this street-car suddenly we moved in empty space nothing supporting us and i didn't see any car but now i see it sir the captain gazes at me how's that a nine-day miracle you do eh yes sir i clutch upward here's the strap i'm holding it you look pretty funny sliding through the air with your hand up like that halloway

how's that sir

why the other's laughing at me sir nothing son nothing just happy that's all ding ding ding ding canal street in washington ding ding whoosh this is real traveling funny though

the captain and his men keep moving changing seats never stay seated it's a long street car

i'm weighing back now they're up front by the large brown house on the next corner stands a pop-corn wagon yellow and red and blue i can taste the pop-corn in my mind it's been a long time since i've eaten some if i ask the captain's permission to stop and buy a bag he'll refuse i'll just sneak off the car at the next stop i can get back on the next car and catch up with the gang later how do you stop this car my fingers fumble with my baseball outfit doing something i don't want to know about the car is stopping why is that pop-corn is more important i'm off the car walking here's a popcorn machine with a man behind it fussing with little silver metal knobs burlock larker is tony tony bambino what are you doing here click it can be but it is tony who died ten long years ago when i was a freckled kid alive and selling popcorn again oh tony it's good to see you his black moustache is so waxed so shining his dark hair like burnt oily shavings his dark shining happy eyes his smiling red cheeks he shimmers in my eyes like in a cold rain tony let me shake your hand give me a bag of popcorn signor click click click spurt click whee the captain didn't see you tony you were heading so well only i saw you just a moment while i searched for my nickel whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee whee pardon me for criticising you tony but i think it's your papa turned up too high your face looks afraid contorted and your hands move so rapidly why can't you shut it off i'm hot everything melts my knees sack warmer still you'd better turn that thing off i can't take any more i can't find my nickel anyhow please snap it off tony i'm sick my uniform glows orange i'll take fire here i'll turn it off for you tony you hit me stop hitting me stop clicking those knobs it's hot i tell you stop well tony where are you gone where did that purple flame shoot from that loud blast what was it the flame seemed to stream from my hand out of my scout flashlight purple flame eating i smell a sharp bitter odour like hamburger fried over lung i feel better now cool as winter but like a fly buzzing in my ears a voice comes faint far off holloway damn it holloway where are you It's his voice sizzling.

I don't see you,

sir.

Hello, we're in the Dead Sea Bottom, known ancient Martian city.

Oh, never mind, dammit.

If you hear me, press your boy scout badge and yell.

I press the badge, intensely sweating.

Hey, Captain.

Hello, glory.

You're not dead.

Where are you? I stopped for popcorn, sir.

I can't see you.

How did I hear you? It's an echo.

Let it go.

If you're okay, grab the next streetcar.

It's very opportune, because here comes a big red streetcar now around the corner of the drugstore.

What? Yes, sir, and it's chock full of people.

I'll climb aboard.

wait a minute hold on murder what kind of people damn it it's the west side gang sure the whole bunch of tough kids west side gang hell those are martians get the hell out of there transfer to another car take the subway take the elevated too late the car's stopped i'll have to get on the conductor looks impatient impatient he says you'll be massacred everybody's climbing from the street car looking angry at me kelly and grogan and tomkins and the others i guess there'll be a fight the captain's voice stabs my ear but i don't see him anywhere use your argon your blaster your blaster hell use your slingshot or throw spitballs or whatever the devil you imagine you got holstered there but use it come on man about face and back

i'm upnumbered i bet they'll gum me and give me the bumps the

bumps the bumps i bet they'll trust me to a maple tree maple tree maple tree and tickle me i bet they'll ink Tattoo the initials on my forehead.

Mother won't like this.

The captain's voice opens up louder.

Driving nearer.

Aunt Papa ain't happy.

Get out of there, Holloway.

They're hitting me, sir.

We're battling.

Keep it up, Holloway.

I knock one down, sir.

With an uppercut.

I'm knocking another one down now.

Here goes a third.

Someone's grabbed my ankle.

I'll kick him.

There.

I'm stumbling.

Falling.

Lights in my eyes.

Purple ones.

Big purple lightning bolts sizzling in the air.

Three of them vanished.

Just like that.

I think they fell down a manhole.

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to hurt them bad.

They stole my flashlight.

Get it back, Holloway.

we're coming get your flash and use it that's silly silly he says silly silly i

got my flashlight back broken no good we're wrestling there's so many of

them i'm weak they're climbing all over me hitting it's not fair i'm falling down kicking screaming up speed men full power they're binding me up i can't move they're rushing me into the street car now now i won't be able to go on that hike and i can't it's so hard too here we are holloway blasting men oh my lord look at the horrible faces of those creatures gah watch out captain they'll get you too and the others ah someone struck me in the back of my head darkness dark dark rock-a-bye baby on the tree-top where the wind blows

OK, Halloway, any time, just any time you want to come in.

Dark, a voice talking, dark as the wells

inside.

Ouch,

my

head! I'm flat on my back.

I can feel rocks under me.

Good morning, dear Mr. Halloway.

Thank you, Captain, over in that dark corner.

It ain't the President of the United States.

Where is this cave? Suppose you tell me.

You got us into this mess with your eternally blasted popcorn.

Why'd you get off the streetcar? Did the Westside Gang cross us up again like this, Captain? Westside Gang? Ah, those faces, those inhuman, weird, unsavoury and horrible faces, all loose-fleshed and gangrenous.

Aliens, the whole ratting clutch of them.

What a funny way to talk.

Listen, you pa-bell, they did.

In about an hour we're going to be fried, gutted, iced, killed, slaughtered, murdered.

We will be, ipso facto, dead.

Your friends are whipping up a little blood-letting jamboree.

Can't I shove it through your thick skull? We're on Mars, about to be sliced and hammered by a lousy bunch of Martians.

Captain, sir?

Yes, Spearman.

Cave door is opening, sir.

I think the Martians are ready to have at us again, sir.

Some sort of test or other, no doubt.

Let go of me, you one-eyed monster.

I'm coming.

Don't push.

We're outside the cave.

They're cutting our bonds.

See, Captain, they aren't hurting us after all.

Here's the brick alley.

There's Mrs. Haight's underwear waving on the clothesline.

See all the people from the beer hall.

What are they waiting for?

To see us die.

Captain, what's wrong with Holloway? He's acting queer.

At least he's better off than us.

He can't see

these creatures' faces and bodies.

It's enough to turn a man's stomach.

This must be their amphitheatre.

That looks like an obstacle course.

I gather from their signlinger that if we can make it through the obstacles, we're free.

Footnote.

Nobody's ever gotten through

alive yet.

Seems I want you to go first, Berryman.

Good luck, boy.

So long, Captain.

So long, Gus.

So long, Holloway.

berman's running down alley with an easy long-muscled stride

i hear him yelling high and clear even though he's getting far away here comes an automobile berman ah it hit me he's fallen berman get up get up stay here halloway it's not your turn yet my turn what do you mean someone's got to help berman halloway come back oh man i don't want to see this lift up my legs put them down breathe out breathe in swing arms swing legs chew my tongue blink my eyes boom and here i come gee things are crazy funny here comes an ice wagon trundling along it's coming right at me i can't see to get around it it's coming so fast i'll jump inside it jump jump cool ice ice pick chick chick chick i hear the captain screaming off a million hot miles gone around the ice perimeter the ice wagon is thundering rioting jouncing shaking rolling on big rusty iron wheels smelling of sour ammonia bouncing on a corduroy dirt and black alley road the rear end of it seems to be snapping shut with many ice prongs i feel intense pain in my left leg piece of ice cold square cold cube a shuddering and convulsing a temblor the wagon wheel stopped rolling i jumped down and ran away from the wrecked wagon did the wagon roll over a burman i hope not a fence here i'll jump over it another pop-corn machine very warm very hot oh flame and red fire and burning metal knobs oops i didn't mean to strike the pop-corn man down hello burman what are you doing in my arms how did you get here did i pick you up and why an obstacle race at the high school you're heavy doug's nipping at my heels how far am i supposed to carry you i hear the captain screaming me on for why for why here comes the big bad truant officer with a club in his hand to take me back to school he looks mean and broad i kicked the truant officer's shins and kicked him in the face mamma won't like that yes mammy no mammy that's unfair that's not ethical fighting something went squish let's forget about it shall we breathing hard here comes the gang after me all the rough bustly irishmen the scarred norwegians and stubborn italians hit kick wrestle here comes a swift car fast fast i'll be picking a duck with you burman here comes another car from the opposite way if i work things right stop screaming the cars crashed into each other the cars still roll tumbling like two animals tearing at each other's throats not far to go now but i'm into the end of the alley just ahead i'll sleep for forty years when this is over might i get this flush out of my hand for one of those guys i knocked down from the pop-corn man oh poke it in front of me people run away maybe they don't like it to lighten their eyes the end of the alley there's the green valley in my house and there's mom and pop waiting hey let's sing let's dance we're going home

"'Halloway, you so-and-so, you did

it! Dark,

sleep, wake up slow,

listen.' And Halloway ran down that amphitheatre, nonchalant as a high-school kid, jumping hurdles.

A big saffron Martian beast with a mouth so damn big it looked like the rear end of a delivery truck.

Lunged forward square at Halloway.

"'What did Halloway do?' Halloway jumped right inside the monster's mouth.

Right inside.

"'What happened then?' the animal looked downfounded it tried to spit out then to top it all what did hallowe do i ask you i ask you what did he do he drew forth his boy scout blade and went chick chick chick all around the bloody interior pretending like he's holed up in an ice wagon chipping himself off pieces of ice no on my anna the monster after taking a bit of this chick-chick-chick business leaped around cavorting floundering rocking tossing and then with a spout of blood out popped halliway grinning like a kid and on he ran dodging spears and pretending they were pebbles leaping a line of crouched warriors and saying they were picket fence then he lifted burman and trotted with him until he met a three-hundred-pound martian wrestler holloway supposed that it was the truant officer and promptly kicked him in the face then he knocked down another guy looking furiously at the buttons of a paralysis machine which looked to holloway like a pop-corn wagon after which two gigantic black martian leopards attacked resembling to him nothing more than two very bad drivers and dark automobiles holloway side-stepped the two cars crashed and tore each other apart fighting holloway pumped on shooting people with his flashlight which he retrieved from the popcorn man pointing the flash at people he was amazed when they vanished and oh oh holloway's waking up i saw his eyelids flicker quite everyone holloway you awake

Yeah, I've been listening to you talk for five minutes.

I still don't understand.

Nothing happened at all.

How long have I been asleep? Two days.

Nothing happened, eh? Nothing except you got the Martians cow-towing.

That's all, brother.

Your spectacular performance impressed people.

The enemy suddenly decided that if one Earthman could do what you did, what would happen if a million more came? Everyone

keeps on with this joking.

This lying about Mars.

Stop it.

Where am I? I bought the rocket.

About to take

off.

Leave Earth? No, no, I don't want to leave Earth.

Good green Earth.

Let go, I'm afraid.

Let go of me.

Stop the ship.

Holloway, this is Mars.

We're going back to Earth.

Liars! All of you! I don't want to go to Mars.

I want to stay here on Earth.

Holy cow, here we go again.

Hold him down, Gus.

Say, Doctor and the Double, come help Holloway change his mind back, will you?

Liars! You can't do this!

Liars! Liars!

End of Story 4 Story 5 of Battles

for the Stars in Space, Ed Reed Short Sci-Fi, Volume 3.

This Lebervox recording is in the public domain.

The Invisible Enemy by Arnold Castle It was

the day.

The automobile, with its three passengers, moved slowly along the quiet morning street.

There was no need for hurry.

The boy's father was soberly recalling his own war experiences, wondering how similar Tom's would be.

the mother was remembering vividly fragments of films of facsimile reports of forgotten conversations envisioning her son cringing pathetically in a shallow foxhole as the penultimate weapon burst into grisly glory in the dark dawn sky tom's own thoughts were tense but he managed to conceal his nervousness from his parents we're here son his father announced calmly pulling the car up to the curb

dear can't we drive around the block just once

his mother asked her voice almost a whisper we're early

no mum

tom said crisply he opened the door and stepped out on to the sidewalk want us to go in son no thanks dad but we want to tom his mother said.

Of course we'll go

in.

There's no need for you two.

I'm already registered, he told her.

He reached out to grip his father's hand.

Tom, his mother protested.

don't worry about me he kissed her hurriedly and was relieved when his father drove away without waiting for him to start up the steps he knew that they would worry and he turned abruptly forcing his attention away the day was bright and a chill breeze swept him from the pacific atop a distant hill eucalyptus glimmered in the white sunlight inscribed over the portal of the modest building which he now faced were the words department of peace that the age of violence may forever remain history bullets splattered into the mound in front of the foxhole sending a dense spray of dust and gravel into the pit tom spit out the mouthful of dirt and cursed

they comin

the soldier next to him asked waiting silently no tom told him gloomily but they know where we are maybe they're trymarder think they're trymarder Tom shrugged.

Go on back to sleep.

I'm watching.

The other was several years older than he,

and a corporal,

but not very bright.

Still, it was better than being alone.

The worst thing he could imagine was having to face the enemy, utterly alone.

If only he could remember what the enemy looked like, it would not be so bad.

he forgot so much sometimes it seemed like he'd been in combat just a few days but other times it felt like he'd been up there forever waiting moving forward moving backward thinking that at last he was beginning to get the picture but not sure never sure never sure of anything if only he could recall something beside the immediate present then maybe that situation would start to make a little sense he knew why he was fighting vaguely it was to safeguard certain inalienable rights which ones he could not exactly remember the odd thing was that the enemy was fighting for the same goal he sensed that intuitively but who was the enemy he thought he had known once but that had been quite a while ago what did they

look like you'd have to ask someone

An infrared flare blossomed some distance down the valley.

Tom adjusted his binoculars and scanned the slope.

Nothing.

Remotely, the monotonous rumble of atomic artillery began pounding through the night.

From far away echoed the transient whisper of a jet.

Now his legs were beginning to get cramped.

That happened every night, and he knew that no matter which way he bent them, the pain would continue to grow.

However, there was always the consolation that toward morning they would become numb.

he opened his one remaining ration can tore back the layers of thermophoil insulation and started devouring the warm lamb stew the dull staccato of automatic fire commenced far down the valley somebody screamed tom contemplated his own flashless weapon trying to recall what had been taught about its principles of expulsion that had been so far back a year two he didn't remember it was time for the corporal to take over the watch but tum decided to give him another ten minutes wearily he raised the binoculars to his eyes pushed the switch the battery was about exhausted and he replaced it overhead a flare was drifting downward and he watched as it illuminated the murky battle-ground "'Lad up!' the platoon sergeant growled.

The troops had been waiting for a quarter of an hour beside the road.

Tom had long since learned the futility of speculation, but conversation was vital, and there had to be a topic.

"'Maybe they're trying to get trucks for us,' he muttered to the soldier next to him.

"'Maybe they're planning a picnic for us,' the other suggested.

"'Trucks, picnics, you guys make everything too complicated,'

a third soldier remarked.

every time something happens you figure out a different reason

for it not me the way i see it there's just one cause for everything they tell us to do or don't do say or don't say think or don't think and it's discipline look at it that way and you're always one ahead of em

i

like the idea of a

picnic

the other replied obstinately only it's supposed to be a surprise and that's why they don't tell us nothing OK, you guys, strip those butts!" Tom hoisted the straps of his pack under his aching shoulders, and fell into file behind the other two.

The heel of his left boot was wearing badly, and he could sense the strain on his ankle.

He tried placing his weight on the ball of his foot, but that made him limp.

Then he had no time for concern with small discomforts, for the column was scattering at the distant whoosh of jets.

Tom, however, got no farther than the ditch.

The soldier who liked picnics had stumbled onto a discarded recoilless rifle shell ten feet from the road.

It exploded at the contact.

Tom did not hear the jets roar past, for the pain that had burst in his leg was deafening.

Momentarily he experienced a curious detached awareness of both the agony of the wound and the contortions into which he was throwing his body.

Then he collapsed on the weed-matted gravel, unconscious.

He woke to find two medical aid men seated beside him.

The pain had lessened, and the wound was all but covered.

He watched furtively as the corporal completed the job of daubing the gummy white substance from a freshly opened can of plastiderm into a raw gash below his right knee.

He hoped none of the ligaments had been torn, since they would take a lot longer to revolve in the undifferentiated surrogate than would the rest of the tissues.

Tentatively, he flexed his foot muscles.

They seemed all right.

"'Just lean back, buddy.

You're okay now,' he was informed.

"'How about the jets? We hit any of them?'

he asked.

"'Couldn't tell, but I don't think so.

I got what they were after, though.

Yeah, what was that? Convert trucks coming to pick us up.

That's what I hear, anyway.' Tom was silent for a while.

Then he asked,

"'I'm not going to have any trouble with that, am I?'

No, but take it easy for the next couple of days.

I'll put a bandage on it, but it takes time for that stuff to

gel.

He went to work on the bandage, while his companions started packing out the apparatus.

Five minutes later, they had gone.

Tom lay thinking.

None of his questions had yet been answered.

He still could not think coherently about even the recent past, and nobody had been able to state clearly just whom they were fighting, though everyone agreed on the motives for the war.

They were defending freedom against tyranny.

It was as simple and as basic as that.

However, it somehow left Tom unsatisfied.

well what did i tell you

the soldier next to him remarked

discipline no trucks no picnic just discipline say

how about a cigarette i must have dropped mine in the scramble sure tom threw him a mashed half-empty pack

hey thanks he lit one

carefully buttoning the rest in a pocket of his fatigue jacket

thanks a lot o k you guys

came the horse command

strip them butts we're movin discipline

the soldier muttered bitterly crushing the cigarette into the gravel The night was quiet, too quiet.

There were remote and occasional atomic artillery bursts, but no other noise.

The two other members of the patrol were immediately ahead of Tom, but they progressed slowly and made little sound.

Tom crept forward a single notch, looking up only when he had sunk again into the grass.

On either side there was nothing but blackness.

Once more he squirmed forward with his boots and forearms.

Still, there was only the quiet and darkness of night.

he lay there for a while waiting and wondering he had ceased pondering those questions which had most concerned him during the earlier days now he asked himself only when would it be over nothing else any longer seemed to matter but more and more frequently there had come to his mind a single irrelevant memory.

It was an image of a clear day, of a cool breeze off the ocean, of a crest of green and gold eucalyptus on a faraway hill.

It had something to do with home, but that was all he knew of it, and it was all he could recall of home.

a burst of flashless automatic fire from somewhere up the ridge brought a scream from the soldier in front of him and sent him writhing down the slope tom lowered himself till he was on a level with the sight of his carbine then started scanning the rise a moment later he spotted the greenish glow of the sniper's infrared beam and flipping the safety into automatic he squeezed the trigger rapidly he replaced the clip and waited After several moments, he uncautiously flooded the terrain with his own light.

A mere hundred feet away was a sprawling greenish form, one of the enemy, a good and dead one.

It was ten minutes before he heard the remaining member of patrol working his way back.

"'Good-bye,'

came a whisper.

"'You got him.

What about—what do you think?

Are we going back?'

"'Sure.

There ain't no troops up there.

That's what

we came to find out.

Maybe a few snipers is all.'

They started crawling the way they had come, but this time it was more tedious because of the abrasions and bruises that had been incurred.

Dawn was a pasty grey in the sky behind them, when he at last neared the lines.

"'Something funny,' the sergeant muttered suspiciously, rising to his knees.

"'What's wrong?' Tom asked wearily.

"'I don't know.

Wait here.' Tom waited till the sky threatened to become light, then began following.

he continued along the route which he felt must lead to the lines then after some minutes began to feel a sense of panic the landmarks were all wrong and the cloud-strewn sky gave no indication of direction then from the other side of a low rocky hillock came the unmistakable sound of approaching troops running forward to the edge he stopped abruptly as he found himself face to face with the enemy suddenly all the hate and guilt he had ever known exploded into his awareness the face before him was a meaningless blur but he did not need to know the enemy to loathe him his carbine was in his hands the safety off the barrel lowered the trigger squeezed but the rifle failed to fire the cry of the enemy was a wordless oath of anger the bayonet a glinting sliver of

death the pain in his side the ultimate

peak

of agony but as he fell back on to the rocks

he sensed something beyond rage in the bright young eyes of his destroyer he sensed hope the possibility of

peace

and even of happiness for those anger maddened eyes had been his own He woke upon a bed in a small white-walled room.

It was too soon yet to think things over.

So he consciously relaxed, and contemplated such immediate and basic pleasures as breathing, and observing the distant sun-gilt eucalyptus through the single broad window.

For the present the experience of life itself was sufficient.

When

at last an attendant entered, followed by a nurse, Tom felt like talking.

He was frustrated in this by a thermometer, which the woman allowed to remain in his mouth throughout the entire check-up.

When she had finally concluded her routine, Tom said,

I'm feeling pretty good, Doctor.

Is it all right if I leave?

I'm just a mere psychotechnician, the man smiled.

You'll have to check with Miss Lawton.

It is a fiddle,

the nurse responded, gathering up her equipment.

my bayonet wound okay tom asked anxiously and was immediately startled to find he could refer to the incident with amusement it is as if you

can talk about

it she replied with a flicker of sympathy on her dry expressionless face so it was a bayonet the man commented after the nurse had left that's quite rare you know usually it's a bullet or a shell fragment Don't you decide, I mean, don't you set it all up beforehand? Oh, no.

Electro-hypnosis merely instigates certain motivational and situational patterns.

instrumentation and environment is entirely the product of your own personality the more feasible consistent and coherent the subjective aspects the more adaptable rational and stable must be the subject what about the bayonet you chose that i would suppose because you not only weren't afraid of meeting the enemy but actually wanted to we'll go into that later now i want you to relate everything you can remember

tom

waited while the other set up a recorder it took less than twenty minutes to narrate every detail he could recall well that'll be enough for to-day we do want you to report back in a week or so just to find out how this affects your normal activities The receptionist will make an appointment for you.

Your clothes are in the closet.

Tom dressed and started along the corridor, stopping only once for a brief glimpse of the machine which had been his battleground.

A boy he had seen occasionally at school was approaching, and they nodded at one another.

You been through it?

the boy asked.

Yeah, Tom told him a little uneasily.

i'm just going in how is it

tom noticed the other boy's collar was damp with perspiration and his eyes were somewhat watery

is it pretty rough

well its tom returned uncomfortably it's just like war He turned away as the other winced and swallowed nervously.

The receptionist made his appointment, and he strode to the doorway.

Already the horrors of a mere hour before seemed years in the past, and he wondered, as he proceeded down the steps into the same bright day he had left so long ago, how those vague and distant imaginings could possibly affect his future behavior.

he readily admitted that he would be far less inclined to defend the concept of war than he would have been earlier but surely it was possible that under certain conditions he might find himself in a situation where he had no alternative to violence those who had been through it never seemed to get into fights like other kids do for that could be simply a matter of growing up Then

why,

he wondered, was electro-hypnosis universally required in the keystone of the armistice which had concluded the Third World War? With the exception of a few thoroughly socialized individuals, whose capacity for occasional force was necessary to the maintenance of law and order, every male human being of fifteen underwent the experience, though there must be some aspect of its consequences which he had overlooked.

For some reason, a memory of three small boys playing soldier on an autumn dusk slipped in among his thoughts.

How disenchantingly different had been the unreal realism of the dream.

With an amused start, it occurred to him that the same genuine Captain America infrared electronic sniper kit that had seen him through those childhood skirmishes had accompanied him into combat that morning, and for an instant he wondered if such a thing as an infrared flare actually did exist.

Stepping onto the sidewalk, he turned toward home.

He would be there in just a little over three hours after his parents had left him.

They could not have worried too much in so short a period.

Sully decided it would be best to call them.

Everyone had heard rumors of subjects coming out of electro-hypnosis with psychosomatic or neurotic after-effects, and while these had been authoritatively discounted, it would be typical of his mother to imagine her son the exception.

There was a drug-store on the next corner, and Tom headed toward it.

He did not notice the two younger school acquaintances until they had crossed the street and had halted in his path.

He had never been on cordial terms with either of them, and was in no mood for their banter to-day.

Well, look who's back from the wars, the more aggressive of the pair exclaimed.

Where's

your

meadows, Colonel? Yeah,

the other jibed.

And what happened to your crutches? Tom regretted very much not having left the building by a rear exit.

Their reaction to meeting him in that manner, considering their determination not to exhibit any anxiety over their own imminent ordeals, was bound to be antagonistic.

However, his own responses had not yet stabilized adequately, following the experience, to permit much tolerance.

He ignored them and started on.

Come on, Tom,

the first persisted, stepping swiftly into his path.

Tell

us about it.

How many of them did you get? But he didn't get any.

But he just buried himself in his foxhole till it was all over.

But he was scared stiff.

Nah, not the colonel.

There's nothing in front of all of them.

Won't you, colonel?

Irritation flamed into anger.

Raising his hand, he was about to push them aside, when the hot, searing pain of the bayonet struck him, hurling him back against the wall.

For an uncomprehending moment he leaned immobile, his mouth gaping, his eyes awed.

Then, realizing the only way out, he relaxed.

The agony subsided and vanished.

Though that was it, he thought bitterly.

so that was the ultimate weapon not the indoctrination for the rest of his life he was to be burdened with the possibility of that vivid torture whenever he so much as considered using force the boys had backed away apprehensively and now were moving on down the street with frequent backward glances it made no difference to him for the present they were of another age an age of violence an age which he had outgrown the drug-store was crowded but tom made his way toward the rear without noticing the customers his thoughts were soberly and intently focused on the future perhaps he considered by the time his great-grandchildren were men a way of life would have been created which involved neither the inevitability of war nor the oddness necessity for an invisible poised bayonet and so far as his own life was concerned If the latter meant that he could return home instead of trudging back to the barracks, then he accepted it gracefully.

The price of peace was bound to be high, he reflected, since man had never before been able to afford it.

Sliding into the

phone booth and pushing a coin into the slot, Tom began dialing.

End of Story 5 Story 6 of Battles for the Stars in Space

Ed Reed Short Sci-Fi Volume 3 This Lebervox recording is in the public domain.

Navy Day by Harry Harrison General Wingrove looked at the rows of faces without seeing them.

His vision went beyond the Congress of the United States, past the balmy June day to another day that was coming, a day when the Army would have its destined place of authority.

He drew a deep breath and delivered what was perhaps the shortest speech ever heard in the hallowed halls of Congress.

the general staff of the u s army requests congress to abolish the archaic branch of the armed forces known as the u s navy the aging senator from georgia checked his hearing aid to see if it was in operating order while the press box emptied itself in one concerted rush and a clatter of running feet that died off in the direction of the telephone room a buzz of excited comet ran through the giant chamber one by one the heads turned to face the naval section where rows of blue figures stirred and buzzed like smoked-out bees the knot of men around a paunchy figure heavy with gold braid spoke up and admiral fitzjames climbed slowly to his feet lesser men have quailed before that piercing stare but general wingrove was nevertheless a man the admiral tossed his head with disgust every line of his body denoting outraged dignity turned to his audience a small pulse beating in his forehead i cannot comprehend the general's attitude nor can i understand why he has attacked the navy in his unwarranted fashion The Navy has existed and will always exist as the first barrier of American defense.

I ask you, gentlemen, to ignore this request as you would ignore the statements of any person.

Uh, slightly demented, I should like to offer a recommendation that the General's sanity be investigated and an inquiry be made as to the mental health of anyone else connected with this preposterous proposal.

The General smiled calmly.

I understand, Admiral, and really don't blame me for being slightly annoyed, but please let us not bring this issue of national importance down to a shallow personal level.

The Army has facts to back up this request, facts that shall be demonstrated to-morrow morning.

Turning his back on the raging Admiral, General Wingrove included all the assembled Solons in one sweeping gesture.

Reserve your judgment until that time, gentlemen.

Make no hasty judgments until you've seen the force of argument with which we back up our request.

It is the end of an era.

In the morning the Navy joins its fellow fossils.

The dodo and the brunt of sorts.

The Admiral's blood pressure mounted to a new record, and the gentle thud of his unconscious body striking the floor was the only sound to break the shocked silence of the giant hall.

the early morning sun warmed the white marble of the jefferson memorial and glinted from the soldiers helmets and the roofs of the packed cars that crowded forward in a slow-moving stream all the gentlemen of congress were there the passage of their cars cleared by the screaming sirens of motorcycle policemen around and under the wheels of the official cars pressed a solid wave of government workers and common citizens of the capital city the trucks of the radio and television services pressed close microphones and cameras extended the stage was set for a great day neat rows of olive drab vehicles curved along the water's edge jeeps and half trucks shouldered close by weapons carriers and six by all of them shrinking to insignificance beside the looming patent tanks a speaker's platform was set up in the center of the line near the audience at precisely ten a m general wingrove stepped forward and scowled at the crowd until they settled into an uncomfortable silence its speech was short and consisted of nothing more than amplifications of his opening statement that actions speak louder than words he pointed to the first truck in line a two and a half ton filled with an infantry squad sitting stiffly at attention the driver caught the signal and kicked the engine into life with a grind of gears it moved forward toward the river's edge There was an indrawn gasp from the crowd as the front wheels ground over the marble parapet.

Then the truck was plunging down toward the muddy waters of the Potomac.

The wheels touched the water and the surface seemed to sink, not taking on a strange glassy character.

The truck roared into high gear and rolled forward on the surface of the water, surrounded by a saucer-shaped depression.

it parked two hundred yards off shore and the soldiers goaded by the sergeant's bark leaped out and lined up with showy present arms the general returned the salute and waved to the remaining vehicles they moved forward in a series of manoeuvres that indicated a great number of rehearsal hours on some hidden pond the tanks rumbled slowly over the water while the jeeps cut back and forth through their lines in intricate patterns the trucks backed and turned like puffing ballerinas the audience was rooted in a hushed silence their eyeballs bulging they continued to watch the amazing display as general wingrove spoke again you see before you a typical example of army ingenuity developed in army laboratories These multi-units are supported on the water by an intensifying of the surface tension in their immediate area.

Their weight is evenly distributed over the surface, causing the shallow depressions you see around them.

This remarkable feat has been accomplished by the use of the Dorner fire, a remarkable invention that is named after that brilliant scientist, Colonel Robert A. Dorn, commander of the Brook Point Experimental Laboratory.

It was there that one of the civilian employees discovered the darn effect, under the colonel's constant guidance, of course.

Utilizing this invention, the army now becomes master of the sea as well as the land.

Army convoys of trucks and tanks can blanket the world.

The surface of the water is our highway, our motor park, our battleground.

The airfield and runway for our planes.

Mechanics were pushing a shooting star onto the water.

They stepped clear as flame gushed from the tailpipe.

With a familiar whooshing rumble it sped down the potomac and hurled itself into the air.

When this cheap and simple method of crossing oceans is adopted, it will of course mean the end of that fantastic medieval anachronism, the Navy.

no need for billion-dollar aircraft carriers battleships dry-docks and all the other cumbersome junk that keeps those boats and things afloat gives the taxpayer back his hard-earned dollar teeth grated in the naval section as carriers and battleships were called boats and the rest of america's sea made lumped under the casual heading of things lips were curled at the transparent appeal to the taxpayer's pocket-book but with leaden hearts they knew that all this justified wrath and contempt would avail them nothing.

This was Army Day with a vengeance, and the doom of the Navy seemed inescapable.

The Army had made elaborate plans for what they called Operation Sinker.

Even as the General spoke, the publicity mills ground into high gear.

From coast to coast the citizens absorbed the news with their morning nourishment.

"'Agnes, you hear what the radio said? The army's going to give a trip around the world in the B-36 as first prize in this limerick contest.

All you have to do is fill in the last line and mail one copy to the Pentagon and the other to the Navy.' The naval mailroom had standing orders to burn all the limericks when they came in, but some of the newer men seemed to think the entire thing was a big joke.

Commander Bowman found one in the mess hall.

The army will always be there, on the land, on the sea, in the air.

So why should the navy take all of the gravy? To which a sea-going scribe had added, Do not give us ensigns, our share.

The newspapers were filled daily with photographs of mighty B-36s landing on Lake Erie, and grinning soldiers making muck beachhead attacks on Coney Island.

Each man wore a buzzing black box at his waist, and walked on the bosom of the now quiet Atlantic, like a biblical prophet.