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PRoblem By: Alan Edward Nourse (1928-1992) |
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by Alan E. Nourse
The letter came down the slot too early that morning to be the regular
mail run. Pete Greenwood eyed the New Philly photocancel with a dreadful
premonition. The letter said: PETER:
Can you come East chop chop, urgent?
Grdznth problem getting to be a PRoblem, need expert
icebox salesman to get gators out of hair fast.
Yes? Math boys hot on this, citizens not so hot.
Please come.
TOMMY Pete tossed the letter down the gulper with a sigh. He had lost a bet to
himself because it had come three days later than he expected, but it
had come all the same, just as it always did when Tommy Heinz got
himself into a hole. Not that he didn't like Tommy. Tommy was a good PR man, as PR men go. He
just didn't know his own depth. PRoblem in a beady Grdznth eye! What
Tommy needed right now was a Bazooka Battalion, not a PR man. Pete
settled back in the Eastbound Rocketjet with a sigh of resignation. He was just dozing off when the fat lady up the aisle let out a scream.
A huge reptilian head had materialized out of nowhere and was hanging in
air, peering about uncertainly. A scaly green body followed, four feet
away, complete with long razor talons, heavy hind legs, and a whiplash
tail with a needle at the end. For a moment the creature floated upside
down, legs thrashing. Then the head and body joined, executed a
horizontal pirouette, and settled gently to the floor like an eight foot
circus balloon. Two rows down a small boy let out a muffled howl and tried to bury
himself in his mother's coat collar. An indignant wail arose from the
fat lady. Someone behind Pete groaned aloud and quickly retired behind a
newspaper. The creature coughed apologetically. "Terribly sorry," he said in a
coarse rumble. "So difficult to control, you know. Terribly sorry...."
His voice trailed off as he lumbered down the aisle toward the empty
seat next to Pete. The fat lady gasped, and an angry murmur ran up and down the cabin. "Sit
down," Pete said to the creature. "Relax. Cheerful reception these days,
eh?" "You don't mind?" said the creature. "Not at all." Pete tossed his briefcase on the floor. At a distance the
huge beast had looked like a nightmare combination of large alligator
and small tyrannosaurus. Now, at close range Pete could see that the
"scales" were actually tiny wrinkles of satiny green fur. He knew, of
course, that the Grdznth were mammals "docile, peace loving mammals,"
Tommy's PR blasts had declared emphatically but with one of them
sitting about a foot away Pete had to fight down a wave of horror and
revulsion. The creature was most incredibly ugly. Great yellow pouches hung down
below flat reptilian eyes, and a double row of long curved teeth
glittered sharply. In spite of himself Pete gripped the seat as the
Grdznth breathed at him wetly through damp nostrils. "Misgauged?" said Pete. The Grdznth nodded sadly. "It's horrible of me, but I just can't help
it. I always misgauge. Last time it was the chancel of St. John's
Cathedral. I nearly stampeded morning prayer " He paused to catch his
breath. "What an effort. The energy barrier, you know. Frightfully hard
to make the jump." He broke off sharply, staring out the window. "Dear
me! Are we going east ?" "I'm afraid so, friend." "Oh, dear. I wanted Florida ." "Well, you seem to have drifted through into the wrong airplane," said
Pete. "Why Florida?" The Grdznth looked at him reproachfully. "The Wives, of course. The
climate is so much better, and they mustn't be disturbed, you know." "Of course," said Pete. "In their condition. I'd forgotten." "And I'm told that things have been somewhat unpleasant in the East just
now," said the Grdznth. Pete thought of Tommy, red faced and frantic, beating off hordes of
indignant citizens. "So I hear," he said. "How many more of you are
coming through?" "Oh, not many, not many at all. Only the Wives half a million or
so and their spouses, of course... Continue reading book >>
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