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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/25086-h.zip b/25086-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c57cdcf --- /dev/null +++ b/25086-h.zip diff --git a/25086-h/25086-h.htm b/25086-h/25086-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..98622a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/25086-h/25086-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1585 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Delegate from Venus, by Henry Slesar + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: left;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 1em auto; clear: both; visibility: hidden;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .center {text-align: center;} + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin: 1em 0 1em 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center; width: 542px;} + .figtran {float: left; text-align: justify; border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15% 0; padding: 1em;} + .figtran img {float: left; padding-right: 1em;} + img {border: none;} + a:link {text-decoration:none;} + a:visited {text-decoration:none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .tease {margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em; font-size: .9em;} + .theend {text-align: right; font-weight: bold; margin-top: 2em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Delegate from Venus, by Henry Slesar + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + + +Title: The Delegate from Venus + +Author: Henry Slesar + +Illustrator: Irving Novick + +Release Date: April 17, 2008 [EBook #25086] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DELEGATE FROM VENUS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figright"> +<img src="images/001.png" width="542" height="500" alt="" title="" /> +<b>The saucer was interesting, but where was the delegate?</b></div> + +<h1>The<br /> +DELEGATE<br /> +FROM<br /> +VENUS</h1> + +<h2>By HENRY SLESAR</h2> + +<p><small><b>ILLUSTRATOR NOVICK</b></small></p> + +<p class="tease"><i>Everybody was waiting to see +what the delegate from Venus +looked like. And all they got +for their patience was the +biggest surprise since David +clobbered Goliath.</i></p> + +<p class="cap">"<span class="dcap">Let</span> me put it this way," +Conners said paternally. +"We expect a certain amount of +decorum from our Washington +news correspondents, and that's +all I'm asking for."</p> + +<p>Jerry Bridges, sitting in the +chair opposite his employer's +desk, chewed on his knuckles +and said nothing. One part of +his mind wanted him to play it +cagey, to behave the way the +newspaper wanted him to behave, +to protect the cozy Washington +assignment he had waited +four years to get. But another +part of him, a rebel part, +wanted him to stay on the trail +of the story he felt sure was +about to break.</p> + +<p>"I didn't mean to make trouble, +Mr. Conners," he said casually. +"It just seemed strange, all +these exchanges of couriers in +the past two days. I couldn't +help thinking something was +up."</p> + +<p>"Even if that's true, we'll +hear about it through the usual +channels," Conners frowned. +"But getting a senator's secretary +drunk to obtain information—well, +that's not only indiscreet, +Bridges. It's downright +dirty."</p> + +<p>Jerry grinned. "I didn't take +<i>that</i> kind of advantage, Mr. +Conners. Not that she wasn't a +toothsome little dish ..."</p> + +<p>"Just thank your lucky stars +that it didn't go any further. +And from now on—" He waggled +a finger at him. "Watch +your step."</p> + +<p>Jerry got up and ambled to the +door. But he turned before leaving +and said:</p> + +<p>"By the way. What do <i>you</i> +think is going on?"</p> + +<p>"I haven't the faintest idea."</p> + +<p>"Don't kid me, Mr. Conners. +Think it's war?"</p> + +<p>"That'll be all, Bridges."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The reporter closed the door +behind him, and then strolled +out of the building into the sunlight.</p> + +<p>He met Ruskin, the fat little +AP correspondent, in front of +the Pan-American Building on +Constitution Avenue. Ruskin +was holding the newspaper that +contained the gossip-column +item which had started the +whole affair, and he seemed +more interested in the romantic +rather than political implications. +As he walked beside him, +he said:</p> + +<p>"So what really happened, +pal? That Greta babe really let +down her hair?"</p> + +<p>"Where's your decorum?" +Jerry growled.</p> + +<p>Ruskin giggled. "Boy, she's +quite a dame, all right. I think +they ought to get the Secret +Service to guard her. She really +fills out a size 10, don't she?"</p> + +<p>"Ruskin," Jerry said, "you +have a low mind. For a week, +this town has been acting like +the <i>39 Steps</i>, and all you can +think about is dames. What's +the matter with you? Where +will you be when the big mushroom +cloud comes?"</p> + +<p>"With Greta, I hope," Ruskin +sighed. "What a way to get +radioactive."</p> + +<p>They split off a few blocks +later, and Jerry walked until he +came to the Red Tape Bar & +Grill, a favorite hangout of the +local journalists. There were +three other newsmen at the bar, +and they gave him snickering +greetings. He took a small table +in the rear and ate his meal in +sullen silence.</p> + +<p>It wasn't the newsmen's jibes +that bothered him; it was the +certainty that something of +major importance was happening +in the capitol. There had +been hourly conferences at the +White House, flying visits by +State Department officials, mysterious +conferences involving +members of the Science Commission. +So far, the byword +had been secrecy. They knew +that Senator Spocker, chairman +of the Congressional Science +Committee, had been involved +in every meeting, but Senator +Spocker was unavailable. His +secretary, however, was a little +more obliging ...</p> + +<p>Jerry looked up from his +coffee and blinked when he saw +who was coming through the +door of the Bar & Grill. So did +every other patron, but for different +reasons. Greta Johnson +had that effect upon men. Even +the confining effect of a mannishly-tailored +suit didn't hide +her outrageously feminine qualities.</p> + +<p>She walked straight to his +table, and he stood up.</p> + +<p>"They told me you might be +here," she said, breathing hard. +"I just wanted to thank you for +last night."</p> + +<p>"Look, Greta—"</p> + +<p><i>Wham!</i> Her hand, small and +delicate, felt like a slab of lead +when it slammed into his cheek. +She left a bruise five fingers +wide, and then turned and stalked +out.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>He ran after her, the restaurant +proprietor shouting about +the unpaid bill. It took a rapid +dog-trot to reach her side.</p> + +<p>"Greta, listen!" he panted. +"You don't understand about +last night. It wasn't the way +that lousy columnist said—"</p> + +<p>She stopped in her tracks.</p> + +<p>"I wouldn't have minded so +much if you'd gotten me drunk. +But to <i>use</i> me, just to get a +story—"</p> + +<p>"But I'm a <i>reporter</i>, damn it. +It's my job. I'd do it again if +I thought you knew anything."</p> + +<p>She was pouting now. "Well, +how do you suppose I feel, +knowing you're only interested +in me because of the Senator? +Anyway, I'll probably lose my +job, and then you won't have +<i>any</i> use for me."</p> + +<p>"Good-bye, Greta," Jerry said +sadly.</p> + +<p>"What?"</p> + +<p>"Good-bye. I suppose you +won't want to see me any more."</p> + +<p>"Did I say that?"</p> + +<p>"It just won't be any use. +We'll always have this thing between +us."</p> + +<p>She looked at him for a moment, +and then touched his +bruised cheek with a tender, +motherly gesture.</p> + +<p>"Your poor face," she murmured, +and then sighed. "Oh, +well. I guess there's no use +fighting it. Maybe if I <i>did</i> tell +you what I know, we could act +<i>human</i> again."</p> + +<p>"Greta!"</p> + +<p>"But if you print one <i>word</i> +of it, Jerry Bridges, I'll never +speak to you again!"</p> + +<p>"Honey," Jerry said, taking +her arm, "you can trust me like +a brother."</p> + +<p>"That's <i>not</i> the idea," Greta +said stiffly.</p> + +<p>In a secluded booth at the rear +of a restaurant unfrequented by +newsmen, Greta leaned forward +and said:</p> + +<p>"At first, they thought it was +another sputnik."</p> + +<p>"<i>Who</i> did?"</p> + +<p>"The State Department, silly. +They got reports from the observatories +about another sputnik +being launched by the Russians. +Only the Russians denied +it. Then there were joint meetings, +and nobody could figure +out <i>what</i> the damn thing was."</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," Jerry said +dizzily. "You mean to tell me +there's another of those metal +moons up there?"</p> + +<p>"But it's not a moon. That's +the big point. It's a spaceship."</p> + +<p>"A <i>what</i>?"</p> + +<p>"A spaceship," Greta said +coolly, sipping lemonade. "They +have been in contact with it now +for about three days, and they're +thinking of calling a plenary +session of the UN just to figure +out what to do about it. The +only hitch is, Russia doesn't +want to wait that long, and is +asking for a hurry-up summit +meeting to make a decision."</p> + +<p>"A decision about what?"</p> + +<p>"About the Venusians, of +course."</p> + +<p>"Greta," Jerry said mildly, "I +think you're still a little woozy +from last night."</p> + +<p>"Don't be silly. The spaceship's +from Venus; they've already +established that. And the +people on it—I <i>guess</i> they're +people—want to know if they +can land their delegate."</p> + +<p>"Their what?"</p> + +<p>"Their delegate. They came +here for some kind of conference, +I guess. They know about +the UN and everything, and +they want to take part. They +say that with all the satellites +being launched, that our affairs +are <i>their</i> affairs, too. It's kind +of confusing, but that's what +they say."</p> + +<p>"You mean these Venusians +speak English?"</p> + +<p>"And Russian. And French. +And German. And everything I +guess. They've been having +radio talks with practically +every country for the past three +days. Like I say, they want to +establish diplomatic relations +or something. The Senator +thinks that if we don't agree, +they might do something drastic, +like blow us all up. It's kind +of scary." She shivered delicately.</p> + +<p>"You're taking it mighty +calm," he said ironically.</p> + +<p>"Well, how else can I take it? +I'm not even supposed to <i>know</i> +about it, except that the Senator +is so careless about—" She +put her fingers to her lips. "Oh, +dear, now you'll really think I'm +terrible."</p> + +<p>"Terrible? I think you're +wonderful!"</p> + +<p>"And you promise not to print +it?"</p> + +<p>"Didn't I say I wouldn't?"</p> + +<p>"Y-e-s. But you know, you're +a liar sometimes, Jerry. I've noticed +that about you."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The press secretary's secretary, +a massive woman with +gray hair and impervious to +charm, guarded the portals of +his office with all the indomitable +will of the U. S. Marines. +But Jerry Bridges tried.</p> + +<p>"You don't understand, Lana," +he said. "I don't want to <i>see</i> Mr. +Howells. I just want you to <i>give</i> +him something."</p> + +<p>"My name's not Lana, and I +<i>can't</i> deliver any messages."</p> + +<p>"But this is something he +<i>wants</i> to see." He handed her +an envelope, stamped URGENT. +"Do it for me, Hedy. And I'll +buy you the flashiest pair of +diamond earrings in Washington."</p> + +<p>"Well," the woman said, +thawing slightly. "I <i>could</i> deliver +it with his next batch of mail."</p> + +<p>"When will that be?"</p> + +<p>"In an hour. He's in a terribly +important meeting right +now."</p> + +<p>"You've got some mail right +there. Earrings and a bracelet +to match."</p> + +<p>She looked at him with exasperation, +and then gathered up +a stack of memorandums and +letters, his own envelope atop +it. She came out of the press +secretary's office two minutes +later with Howells himself, and +Howells said: "You there, +Bridges. Come in here."</p> + +<p>"Yes, <i>sir</i>!" Jerry said, breezing +by the waiting reporters +with a grin of triumph.</p> + +<p>There were six men in the +room, three in military uniform. +Howells poked the envelope towards +Jerry, and snapped:</p> + +<p>"This note of yours. Just what +do you think it means?"</p> + +<p>"You know better than I do, +Mr. Howells. I'm just doing my +job; I think the public has a +right to know about this spaceship +that's flying around—"</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>His words brought an exclamation +from the others. Howells +sighed, and said:</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bridges, you don't make +it easy for us. It's our opinion +that secrecy is essential, that +leakage of the story might cause +panic. Since you're the only unauthorized +person who knows of +it, we have two choices. One of +them is to lock you up."</p> + +<p>Jerry swallowed hard.</p> + +<p>"The other is perhaps more +practical," Howells said. "You'll +be taken into our confidence, and +allowed to accompany those officials +who will be admitted to the +landing site. But you will <i>not</i> be +allowed to relay the story to the +press until such a time as <i>all</i> +correspondents are informed. +That won't give you a 'scoop' if +that's what you call it, but you'll +be an eyewitness. That should +be worth something."</p> + +<p>"It's worth a lot," Jerry said +eagerly. "Thanks, Mr. Howells."</p> + +<p>"Don't thank me, I'm not doing +you any <i>personal</i> favor. Now +about the landing tonight—"</p> + +<p>"You mean the spaceship's +coming down?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. A special foreign ministers +conference was held this +morning, and a decision was +reached to accept the delegate. +Landing instructions are being +given at Los Alamos, and the +ship will presumably land +around midnight tonight. There +will be a jet leaving Washington +Airport at nine, and you'll be +on it. Meanwhile, consider yourself +in custody."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The USAF jet transport +wasn't the only secrecy-shrouded +aircraft that took off that evening +from Washington Airport. +But Jerry Bridges, sitting in +the rear seat flanked by two +Sphinx-like Secret Service men, +knew that he was the only passenger +with non-official status +aboard.</p> + +<p>It was only a few minutes +past ten when they arrived at +the air base at Los Alamos. The +desert sky was cloudy and starless, +and powerful searchlights +probed the thick cumulus. There +were sleek, purring black autos +waiting to rush the air passengers +to some unnamed destination. +They drove for twenty +minutes across a flat ribbon of +desert road, until Jerry sighted +what appeared to be a circle of +newly-erected lights in the middle +of nowhere. On the perimeter, +official vehicles were parked +in orderly rows, and four USAF +trailer trucks were in evidence, +their radarscopes turning slowly. +There was activity everywhere, +but it was well-ordered +and unhurried. They had done a +good job of keeping the excitement +contained.</p> + +<p>He was allowed to leave the +car and stroll unescorted. He +tried to talk to some of the +scurrying officials, but to no +avail. Finally, he contented +himself by sitting on the sand, +his back against the grill of a +staff car, smoking one cigarette +after another.</p> + +<p>As the minutes ticked off, the +activity became more frenetic +around him. Then the pace slowed, +and he knew the appointed +moment was approaching. Stillness +returned to the desert, and +tension was a tangible substance +in the night air.</p> + +<p>The radarscopes spun slowly.</p> + +<p>The searchlights converged +in an intricate pattern.</p> + +<p>Then the clouds seemed to +part!</p> + +<p>"Here she comes!" a voice +shouted. And in a moment, the +calm was shattered. At first, he +saw nothing. A faint roar was +started in the heavens, and it +became a growl that increased +in volume until even the shouting +voices could no longer be +heard. Then the crisscrossing +lights struck metal, glancing off +the gleaming body of a descending +object. Larger and larger +the object grew, until it assumed +the definable shape of a squat +silver funnel, falling in a perfect +straight line towards the center +of the light-ringed area. When it +hit, a dust cloud obscured it from +sight.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>A loudspeaker blared out an +unintelligible order, but its message +was clear. No one moved +from their position.</p> + +<p>Finally, a three-man team, +asbestos-clad, lead-shielded, stepped +out from the ring of spectators. +They carried geiger counters +on long poles before them.</p> + +<p>Jerry held his breath as they +approached the object; only +when they were yards away did +he appreciate its size. It wasn't +large; not more than fifteen feet +in total circumference.</p> + +<p>One of the three men waved +a gloved hand.</p> + +<p>"It's okay," a voice breathed +behind him. "No radiation ..."</p> + +<p>Slowly, the ring of spectators +closed tighter. They were twenty +yards from the ship when the +voice spoke to them.</p> + +<p>"Greetings from Venus," it +said, and then repeated the +phrase in six languages. "The +ship you see is a Venusian Class +7 interplanetary rocket, built +for one-passenger. It is clear of +all radiation, and is perfectly +safe to approach. There is a +hatch which may be opened by +an automatic lever in the side. +Please open this hatch and remove +the passenger."</p> + +<p>An Air Force General whom +Jerry couldn't identify stepped +forward. He circled the ship +warily, and then said something +to the others. They came closer, +and he touched a small lever on +the silvery surface of the funnel.</p> + +<p>A door slid open.</p> + +<p>"It's a box!" someone said.</p> + +<p>"A crate—"</p> + +<p>"Colligan! Moore! Schaffer! +Lend a hand here—"</p> + +<p>A trio came forward and +hoisted the crate out of the ship. +Then the voice spoke again; +Jerry deduced that it must have +been activated by the decreased +load of the ship.</p> + +<p>"Please open the crate. You +will find our delegate within. +We trust you will treat him +with the courtesy of an official +emissary."</p> + +<p>They set to work on the crate, +its gray plastic material giving +in readily to the application of +their tools. But when it was +opened, they stood aside in +amazement and consternation.</p> + +<p>There were a variety of metal +pieces packed within, protected +by a filmy packing material.</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute," the general +said. "Here's a book—"</p> + +<p>He picked up a gray-bound +volume, and opened its cover.</p> + +<p>"'Instructions for assembling +Delegate,'" he read aloud. +"'First, remove all parts and +arrange them in the following +order. A-1, central nervous system +housing. A-2 ...'" He looked +up. "It's an instruction book," +he whispered. "We're supposed +to <i>build</i> the damn thing."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>The Delegate, a handsomely +constructed robot almost eight +feet tall, was pieced together +some three hours later, by a +team of scientists and engineers +who seemed to find the Venusian +instructions as elementary as a +blueprint in an Erector set. But +simple as the job was, they were +obviously impressed by the +mechanism they had assembled. +It stood impassive until they +obeyed the final instruction. +"Press Button K ..."</p> + +<p>They found button K, and +pressed it.</p> + +<p>The robot bowed.</p> + +<p>"Thank you, gentlemen," it +said, in sweet, unmetallic accents. +"Now if you will please +escort me to the meeting +place ..."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It wasn't until three days +after the landing that Jerry +Bridges saw the Delegate again. +Along with a dozen assorted +government officials, Army officers, +and scientists, he was +quartered in a quonset hut in +Fort Dix, New Jersey. Then, +after seventy-two frustrating +hours, he was escorted by Marine +guard into New York City. +No one told him his destination, +and it wasn't until he saw the +bright strips of light across the +face of the United Nations +building that he knew where the +meeting was to be held.</p> + +<p>But his greatest surprise was +yet to come. The vast auditorium +which housed the general +assembly was filled to its capacity, +but there were new faces +behind the plaques which designated +the member nations. +He couldn't believe his eyes at +first, but as the meeting got +under way, he knew that it was +true. The highest echelons of the +world's governments were represented, +even—Jerry gulped +at the realization—Nikita Khrushchev +himself. It was a summit +meeting such as he had never +dreamed possible, a summit +meeting without benefit of long +foreign minister's debate. And +the cause of it all, a placid, +highly-polished metal robot, was +seated blithely at a desk which +bore the designation:</p> + +<p class="center">VENUS.</p> + +<p>The robot delegate stood up.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," it said into the +microphone, and the great men +at the council tables strained to +hear the translator's version +through their headphones, "Gentlemen, +I thank you for your +prompt attention. I come as a +Delegate from a great neighbor +planet, in the interests of peace +and progress for all the solar +system. I come in the belief that +peace is the responsibility of individuals, +of nations, and now +of worlds, and that each is dependent +upon the other. I speak +to you now through the electronic +instrumentation which +has been created for me, and I +come to offer your planet not +merely a threat, a promise, or +an easy solution—but a challenge."</p> + +<p>The council room stirred.</p> + +<p>"Your earth satellites have +been viewed with interest by the +astronomers of our world, and +we foresee the day when contact +between our planets will be commonplace. +As for ourselves, we +have hitherto had little desire +to explore beyond our realm, +being far too occupied with internal +matters. But our isolation +cannot last in the face of +your progress, so we believe that +we must take part in your +affairs.</p> + +<p>"Here, then, is our challenge. +Continue your struggle of ideas, +compete with each other for the +minds of men, fight your bloodless +battles, if you know no +other means to attain progress. +But do all this <i>without</i> unleashing +the terrible forces of power +now at your command. Once +unleashed, these forces may or +may not destroy all that you +have gained. But we, the scientists +of Venus, promise you this—that +on the very day your conflict +deteriorates into heedless +violence, we will not stand by +and let the ugly contagion +spread. On that day, we of +Venus will act swiftly, mercilessly, +and relentlessly—to destroy +your world completely."</p> + +<p>Again, the meeting room exploded +in a babble of languages.</p> + +<p>"The vessel which brought me +here came as a messenger of +peace. But envision it, men of +Earth, as a messenger of war. +Unstoppable, inexorable, it may +return, bearing a different Delegate +from Venus—a Delegate of +Death, who speaks not in words, +but in the explosion of atoms. +Think of thousands of such Delegates, +fired from a vantage +point far beyond the reach of +your retaliation. This is the +promise and the challenge that +will hang in your night sky from +this moment forward. Look at +the planet Venus, men of Earth, +and see a Goddess of Vengeance, +poised to wreak its wrath upon +those who betray the peace."</p> + +<p>The Delegate sat down.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Four days later, a mysterious +explosion rocked the quiet sands +of Los Alamos, and the Venus +spacecraft was no more. Two +hours after that, the robot delegate, +its message delivered, its +mission fulfilled, requested to be +locked inside a bombproof +chamber. When the door was +opened, the Delegate was an exploded +ruin.</p> + +<p>The news flashed with lightning +speed over the world, and +Jerry Bridges' eyewitness accounts +of the incredible event +was syndicated throughout the +nation. But his sudden celebrity +left him vaguely unsatisfied.</p> + +<p>He tried to explain his feeling +to Greta on his first night back +in Washington. They were in his +apartment, and it was the first +time Greta had consented to pay +him the visit.</p> + +<p>"Well, what's <i>bothering</i> you?" +Greta pouted. "You've had the +biggest story of the year under +your byline. I should think you'd +be tickled pink."</p> + +<p>"It's not that," Jerry said +moodily. "But ever since I heard +the Delegate speak, something's +been nagging me."</p> + +<p>"But don't you think he's done +good? Don't you think they'll be +impressed by what he said?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not worried about that. +I think that damn robot did +more for peace than anything +that's ever come along in this +cockeyed world. But still ..."</p> + +<p>Greta snuggled up to him on +the sofa. "You worry too much. +Don't you ever think of anything +else? You should learn to +relax. It can be fun."</p> + +<p>She started to prove it to him, +and Jerry responded the way a +normal, healthy male usually +does. But in the middle of an +embrace, he cried out:</p> + +<p>"Wait a minute!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> + +<p>"I just thought of something! +Now where the hell did I put +my old notebooks?"</p> + +<p>He got up from the sofa and +went scurrying to a closet. From +a debris of cardboard boxes, he +found a worn old leather brief +case, and cackled with delight +when he found the yellowed +notebooks inside.</p> + +<p>"What <i>are</i> they?" Greta said.</p> + +<p>"My old school notebooks. +Greta, you'll have to excuse me. +But there's something I've got +to do, right away!"</p> + +<p>"That's all right with me," +Greta said haughtily. "I know +when I'm not wanted."</p> + +<p>She took her hat and coat from +the hall closet, gave him one +last chance to change his mind, +and then left.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later, Jerry +Bridges was calling the airlines.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>It had been eleven years since +Jerry had walked across the +campus of Clifton University, +heading for the ivy-choked +main building. It was remarkable +how little had changed, but +the students seemed incredibly +young. He was winded by the +time he asked the pretty girl at +the desk where Professor Martin +Coltz could be located.</p> + +<p>"Professor Coltz?" She stuck +a pencil to her mouth. "Well, I +guess he'd be in the Holland +Laboratory about now."</p> + +<p>"Holland Laboratory? What's +that?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I guess that was after +your time, wasn't it?"</p> + +<p>Jerry felt decrepit, but managed +to say: "It must be something +new since I was here. +Where is this place?"</p> + +<p>He followed her directions, +and located a fresh-painted +building three hundred yards +from the men's dorm. He met a +student at the door, who told +him that Professor Coltz would +be found in the physics department.</p> + +<p>The room was empty when +Jerry entered, except for the +single stooped figure vigorously +erasing a blackboard. He turned +when the door opened. If the +students looked younger, Professor +Coltz was far older than +Jerry remembered. He was a +tall man, with an unruly confusion +of straight gray hair. He +blinked when Jerry said:</p> + +<p>"Hello, Professor. Do you remember +me? Jerry Bridges?"</p> + +<p>"Of course! I thought of you +only yesterday, when I saw your +name in the papers—"</p> + +<p>They sat at facing student +desks, and chatted about old +times. But Jerry was impatient +to get to the point of his visit, +and he blurted out:</p> + +<p>"Professor Coltz, something's +been bothering me. It bothered +me from the moment I heard +the Delegate speak. I didn't +know what it was until last +night, when I dug out my old +college notebooks. Thank God +I kept them."</p> + +<p>Coltz's eyes were suddenly +hooded.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Jerry?"</p> + +<p>"There was something about +the Robot's speech that sounded +familiar—I could have sworn +I'd heard some of the words +before. I couldn't prove anything +until I checked my old +notes, and here's what I found."</p> + +<p>He dug into his coat pocket +and produced a sheet of paper. +He unfolded it and read aloud.</p> + +<p>"'It's my belief that peace is +the responsibility of individuals, +of nations, and someday, even of +worlds ...' Sound familiar, Professor?"</p> + +<p>Coltz shifted uncomfortably. +"I don't recall every silly thing +I said, Jerry."</p> + +<p>"But it's an interesting coincidence, +isn't it, Professor? +These very words were spoken +by the Delegate from Venus."</p> + +<p>"A coincidence—"</p> + +<p>"Is it? But I also remember +your interest in robotics. I'll +never forget that mechanical +homing pigeon you constructed. +And you've probably learned +much more these past eleven +years."</p> + +<p>"What are you driving at, +Jerry?"</p> + +<p>"Just this, Professor. I had a +little daydream, recently, and I +want you to hear it. I dreamed +about a group of teachers, scientists, +and engineers, a group +who were suddenly struck by +an exciting, incredible idea. A +group that worked in the quiet +and secrecy of a University on a +fantastic scheme to force the +idea of peace into the minds of +the world's big shots. Does my +dream interest you, Professor?"</p> + +<p>"Go on."</p> + +<p>"Well, I dreamt that this +group would secretly launch an +earth satellite of their own, and +arrange for the nose cone to +come down safely at a certain +time and place. They would install +a marvelous electronic robot +within the cone, ready to be +assembled. They would beam a +radio message to earth from the +cone, seemingly as if it originated +from their 'spaceship.' +Then, when the Robot was assembled, +they would speak +through it to demand peace for +all mankind ..."</p> + +<p>"Jerry, if you do this—"</p> + +<p>"You don't have to say it, +Professor, I know what you're +thinking. I'm a reporter, and my +business is to tell the world +everything I know. But if I +did it, there might not be a +world for me to write about, +would there? No, thanks, Professor. +As far as I'm concerned, +what I told you was nothing +more than a daydream."</p> + +<hr /> + +<p>Jerry braked the convertible +to a halt, and put his arm +around Greta's shoulder. She +looked up at the star-filled night, +and sighed romantically.</p> + +<p>Jerry pointed. "That one."</p> + +<p>Greta shivered closer to him.</p> + +<p>"And to think what that terrible +planet can do to us!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I dunno. Venus is also +the Goddess of Love."</p> + +<p>He swung his other arm +around her, and Venus winked +approvingly.</p> + +<p class="theend">THE END</p> + +<div class="figtran"> +<a href="images/002-2.jpg"><img src="images/002-1.jpg" width="145" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a> +<b><big>Transcriber's Note:</big></b><br /><br /> +This etext was produced from <i>Amazing Science Fiction Stories</i> October 1958. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. +copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and +typographical errors have been corrected without note.</div> + +<hr /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Delegate from Venus, by Henry Slesar + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DELEGATE FROM VENUS *** + +***** This file should be named 25086-h.htm or 25086-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/0/8/25086/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Delegate from Venus + +Author: Henry Slesar + +Illustrator: Irving Novick + +Release Date: April 17, 2008 [EBook #25086] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DELEGATE FROM VENUS *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + The + DELEGATE + FROM + VENUS + + By HENRY SLESAR + + ILLUSTRATOR NOVICK + + + _Everybody was waiting to see + what the delegate from Venus + looked like. And all they got + for their patience was the + biggest surprise since David + clobbered Goliath._ + + +"Let me put it this way," Conners said paternally. "We expect a certain +amount of decorum from our Washington news correspondents, and that's +all I'm asking for." + +Jerry Bridges, sitting in the chair opposite his employer's desk, chewed +on his knuckles and said nothing. One part of his mind wanted him to +play it cagey, to behave the way the newspaper wanted him to behave, to +protect the cozy Washington assignment he had waited four years to get. +But another part of him, a rebel part, wanted him to stay on the trail +of the story he felt sure was about to break. + +[Illustration: The saucer was interesting, but where was the +delegate?] + +"I didn't mean to make trouble, Mr. Conners," he said casually. "It just +seemed strange, all these exchanges of couriers in the past two days. I +couldn't help thinking something was up." + +"Even if that's true, we'll hear about it through the usual channels," +Conners frowned. "But getting a senator's secretary drunk to obtain +information--well, that's not only indiscreet, Bridges. It's downright +dirty." + +Jerry grinned. "I didn't take _that_ kind of advantage, Mr. Conners. Not +that she wasn't a toothsome little dish ..." + +"Just thank your lucky stars that it didn't go any further. And from now +on--" He waggled a finger at him. "Watch your step." + +Jerry got up and ambled to the door. But he turned before leaving and +said: + +"By the way. What do _you_ think is going on?" + +"I haven't the faintest idea." + +"Don't kid me, Mr. Conners. Think it's war?" + +"That'll be all, Bridges." + + * * * * * + +The reporter closed the door behind him, and then strolled out of the +building into the sunlight. + +He met Ruskin, the fat little AP correspondent, in front of the +Pan-American Building on Constitution Avenue. Ruskin was holding the +newspaper that contained the gossip-column item which had started the +whole affair, and he seemed more interested in the romantic rather than +political implications. As he walked beside him, he said: + +"So what really happened, pal? That Greta babe really let down her +hair?" + +"Where's your decorum?" Jerry growled. + +Ruskin giggled. "Boy, she's quite a dame, all right. I think they ought +to get the Secret Service to guard her. She really fills out a size 10, +don't she?" + +"Ruskin," Jerry said, "you have a low mind. For a week, this town has +been acting like the _39 Steps_, and all you can think about is dames. +What's the matter with you? Where will you be when the big mushroom +cloud comes?" + +"With Greta, I hope," Ruskin sighed. "What a way to get radioactive." + +They split off a few blocks later, and Jerry walked until he came to the +Red Tape Bar & Grill, a favorite hangout of the local journalists. There +were three other newsmen at the bar, and they gave him snickering +greetings. He took a small table in the rear and ate his meal in sullen +silence. + +It wasn't the newsmen's jibes that bothered him; it was the certainty +that something of major importance was happening in the capitol. There +had been hourly conferences at the White House, flying visits by State +Department officials, mysterious conferences involving members of the +Science Commission. So far, the byword had been secrecy. They knew that +Senator Spocker, chairman of the Congressional Science Committee, had +been involved in every meeting, but Senator Spocker was unavailable. His +secretary, however, was a little more obliging ... + +Jerry looked up from his coffee and blinked when he saw who was coming +through the door of the Bar & Grill. So did every other patron, but for +different reasons. Greta Johnson had that effect upon men. Even the +confining effect of a mannishly-tailored suit didn't hide her +outrageously feminine qualities. + +She walked straight to his table, and he stood up. + +"They told me you might be here," she said, breathing hard. "I just +wanted to thank you for last night." + +"Look, Greta--" + +_Wham!_ Her hand, small and delicate, felt like a slab of lead when it +slammed into his cheek. She left a bruise five fingers wide, and then +turned and stalked out. + + * * * * * + +He ran after her, the restaurant proprietor shouting about the unpaid +bill. It took a rapid dog-trot to reach her side. + +"Greta, listen!" he panted. "You don't understand about last night. It +wasn't the way that lousy columnist said--" + +She stopped in her tracks. + +"I wouldn't have minded so much if you'd gotten me drunk. But to _use_ +me, just to get a story--" + +"But I'm a _reporter_, damn it. It's my job. I'd do it again if I +thought you knew anything." + +She was pouting now. "Well, how do you suppose I feel, knowing you're +only interested in me because of the Senator? Anyway, I'll probably lose +my job, and then you won't have _any_ use for me." + +"Good-bye, Greta," Jerry said sadly. + +"What?" + +"Good-bye. I suppose you won't want to see me any more." + +"Did I say that?" + +"It just won't be any use. We'll always have this thing between us." + +She looked at him for a moment, and then touched his bruised cheek with +a tender, motherly gesture. + +"Your poor face," she murmured, and then sighed. "Oh, well. I guess +there's no use fighting it. Maybe if I _did_ tell you what I know, we +could act _human_ again." + +"Greta!" + +"But if you print one _word_ of it, Jerry Bridges, I'll never speak to +you again!" + +"Honey," Jerry said, taking her arm, "you can trust me like a brother." + +"That's _not_ the idea," Greta said stiffly. + +In a secluded booth at the rear of a restaurant unfrequented by newsmen, +Greta leaned forward and said: + +"At first, they thought it was another sputnik." + +"_Who_ did?" + +"The State Department, silly. They got reports from the observatories +about another sputnik being launched by the Russians. Only the Russians +denied it. Then there were joint meetings, and nobody could figure out +_what_ the damn thing was." + +"Wait a minute," Jerry said dizzily. "You mean to tell me there's +another of those metal moons up there?" + +"But it's not a moon. That's the big point. It's a spaceship." + +"A _what_?" + +"A spaceship," Greta said coolly, sipping lemonade. "They have been in +contact with it now for about three days, and they're thinking of +calling a plenary session of the UN just to figure out what to do about +it. The only hitch is, Russia doesn't want to wait that long, and is +asking for a hurry-up summit meeting to make a decision." + +"A decision about what?" + +"About the Venusians, of course." + +"Greta," Jerry said mildly, "I think you're still a little woozy from +last night." + +"Don't be silly. The spaceship's from Venus; they've already established +that. And the people on it--I _guess_ they're people--want to know if +they can land their delegate." + +"Their what?" + +"Their delegate. They came here for some kind of conference, I guess. +They know about the UN and everything, and they want to take part. They +say that with all the satellites being launched, that our affairs are +_their_ affairs, too. It's kind of confusing, but that's what they say." + +"You mean these Venusians speak English?" + +"And Russian. And French. And German. And everything I guess. They've +been having radio talks with practically every country for the past +three days. Like I say, they want to establish diplomatic relations or +something. The Senator thinks that if we don't agree, they might do +something drastic, like blow us all up. It's kind of scary." She +shivered delicately. + +"You're taking it mighty calm," he said ironically. + +"Well, how else can I take it? I'm not even supposed to _know_ about it, +except that the Senator is so careless about--" She put her fingers to +her lips. "Oh, dear, now you'll really think I'm terrible." + +"Terrible? I think you're wonderful!" + +"And you promise not to print it?" + +"Didn't I say I wouldn't?" + +"Y-e-s. But you know, you're a liar sometimes, Jerry. I've noticed that +about you." + + * * * * * + +The press secretary's secretary, a massive woman with gray hair and +impervious to charm, guarded the portals of his office with all the +indomitable will of the U. S. Marines. But Jerry Bridges tried. + +"You don't understand, Lana," he said. "I don't want to _see_ Mr. +Howells. I just want you to _give_ him something." + +"My name's not Lana, and I _can't_ deliver any messages." + +"But this is something he _wants_ to see." He handed her an envelope, +stamped URGENT. "Do it for me, Hedy. And I'll buy you the flashiest pair +of diamond earrings in Washington." + +"Well," the woman said, thawing slightly. "I _could_ deliver it with his +next batch of mail." + +"When will that be?" + +"In an hour. He's in a terribly important meeting right now." + +"You've got some mail right there. Earrings and a bracelet to match." + +She looked at him with exasperation, and then gathered up a stack of +memorandums and letters, his own envelope atop it. She came out of the +press secretary's office two minutes later with Howells himself, and +Howells said: "You there, Bridges. Come in here." + +"Yes, _sir_!" Jerry said, breezing by the waiting reporters with a grin +of triumph. + +There were six men in the room, three in military uniform. Howells poked +the envelope towards Jerry, and snapped: + +"This note of yours. Just what do you think it means?" + +"You know better than I do, Mr. Howells. I'm just doing my job; I think +the public has a right to know about this spaceship that's flying +around--" + + * * * * * + +His words brought an exclamation from the others. Howells sighed, and +said: + +"Mr. Bridges, you don't make it easy for us. It's our opinion that +secrecy is essential, that leakage of the story might cause panic. Since +you're the only unauthorized person who knows of it, we have two +choices. One of them is to lock you up." + +Jerry swallowed hard. + +"The other is perhaps more practical," Howells said. "You'll be taken +into our confidence, and allowed to accompany those officials who will +be admitted to the landing site. But you will _not_ be allowed to relay +the story to the press until such a time as _all_ correspondents are +informed. That won't give you a 'scoop' if that's what you call it, but +you'll be an eyewitness. That should be worth something." + +"It's worth a lot," Jerry said eagerly. "Thanks, Mr. Howells." + +"Don't thank me, I'm not doing you any _personal_ favor. Now about the +landing tonight--" + +"You mean the spaceship's coming down?" + +"Yes. A special foreign ministers conference was held this morning, and +a decision was reached to accept the delegate. Landing instructions are +being given at Los Alamos, and the ship will presumably land around +midnight tonight. There will be a jet leaving Washington Airport at +nine, and you'll be on it. Meanwhile, consider yourself in custody." + + * * * * * + +The USAF jet transport wasn't the only secrecy-shrouded aircraft that +took off that evening from Washington Airport. But Jerry Bridges, +sitting in the rear seat flanked by two Sphinx-like Secret Service men, +knew that he was the only passenger with non-official status aboard. + +It was only a few minutes past ten when they arrived at the air base at +Los Alamos. The desert sky was cloudy and starless, and powerful +searchlights probed the thick cumulus. There were sleek, purring black +autos waiting to rush the air passengers to some unnamed destination. +They drove for twenty minutes across a flat ribbon of desert road, until +Jerry sighted what appeared to be a circle of newly-erected lights in +the middle of nowhere. On the perimeter, official vehicles were parked +in orderly rows, and four USAF trailer trucks were in evidence, their +radarscopes turning slowly. There was activity everywhere, but it was +well-ordered and unhurried. They had done a good job of keeping the +excitement contained. + +He was allowed to leave the car and stroll unescorted. He tried to talk +to some of the scurrying officials, but to no avail. Finally, he +contented himself by sitting on the sand, his back against the grill of +a staff car, smoking one cigarette after another. + +As the minutes ticked off, the activity became more frenetic around him. +Then the pace slowed, and he knew the appointed moment was approaching. +Stillness returned to the desert, and tension was a tangible substance +in the night air. + +The radarscopes spun slowly. + +The searchlights converged in an intricate pattern. + +Then the clouds seemed to part! + +"Here she comes!" a voice shouted. And in a moment, the calm was +shattered. At first, he saw nothing. A faint roar was started in the +heavens, and it became a growl that increased in volume until even the +shouting voices could no longer be heard. Then the crisscrossing lights +struck metal, glancing off the gleaming body of a descending object. +Larger and larger the object grew, until it assumed the definable shape +of a squat silver funnel, falling in a perfect straight line towards the +center of the light-ringed area. When it hit, a dust cloud obscured it +from sight. + + * * * * * + +A loudspeaker blared out an unintelligible order, but its message was +clear. No one moved from their position. + +Finally, a three-man team, asbestos-clad, lead-shielded, stepped out +from the ring of spectators. They carried geiger counters on long poles +before them. + +Jerry held his breath as they approached the object; only when they +were yards away did he appreciate its size. It wasn't large; not more +than fifteen feet in total circumference. + +One of the three men waved a gloved hand. + +"It's okay," a voice breathed behind him. "No radiation ..." + +Slowly, the ring of spectators closed tighter. They were twenty yards +from the ship when the voice spoke to them. + +"Greetings from Venus," it said, and then repeated the phrase in six +languages. "The ship you see is a Venusian Class 7 interplanetary +rocket, built for one-passenger. It is clear of all radiation, and is +perfectly safe to approach. There is a hatch which may be opened by an +automatic lever in the side. Please open this hatch and remove the +passenger." + +An Air Force General whom Jerry couldn't identify stepped forward. He +circled the ship warily, and then said something to the others. They +came closer, and he touched a small lever on the silvery surface of the +funnel. + +A door slid open. + +"It's a box!" someone said. + +"A crate--" + +"Colligan! Moore! Schaffer! Lend a hand here--" + +A trio came forward and hoisted the crate out of the ship. Then the +voice spoke again; Jerry deduced that it must have been activated by the +decreased load of the ship. + +"Please open the crate. You will find our delegate within. We trust you +will treat him with the courtesy of an official emissary." + +They set to work on the crate, its gray plastic material giving in +readily to the application of their tools. But when it was opened, they +stood aside in amazement and consternation. + +There were a variety of metal pieces packed within, protected by a filmy +packing material. + +"Wait a minute," the general said. "Here's a book--" + +He picked up a gray-bound volume, and opened its cover. + +"'Instructions for assembling Delegate,'" he read aloud. "'First, remove +all parts and arrange them in the following order. A-1, central nervous +system housing. A-2 ...'" He looked up. "It's an instruction book," he +whispered. "We're supposed to _build_ the damn thing." + + * * * * * + +The Delegate, a handsomely constructed robot almost eight feet tall, was +pieced together some three hours later, by a team of scientists and +engineers who seemed to find the Venusian instructions as elementary as +a blueprint in an Erector set. But simple as the job was, they were +obviously impressed by the mechanism they had assembled. It stood +impassive until they obeyed the final instruction. "Press Button K ..." + +They found button K, and pressed it. + +The robot bowed. + +"Thank you, gentlemen," it said, in sweet, unmetallic accents. "Now if +you will please escort me to the meeting place ..." + + * * * * * + +It wasn't until three days after the landing that Jerry Bridges saw the +Delegate again. Along with a dozen assorted government officials, Army +officers, and scientists, he was quartered in a quonset hut in Fort Dix, +New Jersey. Then, after seventy-two frustrating hours, he was escorted +by Marine guard into New York City. No one told him his destination, and +it wasn't until he saw the bright strips of light across the face of the +United Nations building that he knew where the meeting was to be held. + +But his greatest surprise was yet to come. The vast auditorium which +housed the general assembly was filled to its capacity, but there were +new faces behind the plaques which designated the member nations. He +couldn't believe his eyes at first, but as the meeting got under way, he +knew that it was true. The highest echelons of the world's governments +were represented, even--Jerry gulped at the realization--Nikita +Khrushchev himself. It was a summit meeting such as he had never dreamed +possible, a summit meeting without benefit of long foreign minister's +debate. And the cause of it all, a placid, highly-polished metal robot, +was seated blithely at a desk which bore the designation: + + VENUS. + +The robot delegate stood up. + +"Gentlemen," it said into the microphone, and the great men at the +council tables strained to hear the translator's version through their +headphones, "Gentlemen, I thank you for your prompt attention. I come as +a Delegate from a great neighbor planet, in the interests of peace and +progress for all the solar system. I come in the belief that peace is +the responsibility of individuals, of nations, and now of worlds, and +that each is dependent upon the other. I speak to you now through the +electronic instrumentation which has been created for me, and I come to +offer your planet not merely a threat, a promise, or an easy +solution--but a challenge." + +The council room stirred. + +"Your earth satellites have been viewed with interest by the astronomers +of our world, and we foresee the day when contact between our planets +will be commonplace. As for ourselves, we have hitherto had little +desire to explore beyond our realm, being far too occupied with internal +matters. But our isolation cannot last in the face of your progress, so +we believe that we must take part in your affairs. + +"Here, then, is our challenge. Continue your struggle of ideas, compete +with each other for the minds of men, fight your bloodless battles, if +you know no other means to attain progress. But do all this _without_ +unleashing the terrible forces of power now at your command. Once +unleashed, these forces may or may not destroy all that you have gained. +But we, the scientists of Venus, promise you this--that on the very day +your conflict deteriorates into heedless violence, we will not stand by +and let the ugly contagion spread. On that day, we of Venus will act +swiftly, mercilessly, and relentlessly--to destroy your world +completely." + +Again, the meeting room exploded in a babble of languages. + +"The vessel which brought me here came as a messenger of peace. But +envision it, men of Earth, as a messenger of war. Unstoppable, +inexorable, it may return, bearing a different Delegate from Venus--a +Delegate of Death, who speaks not in words, but in the explosion of +atoms. Think of thousands of such Delegates, fired from a vantage point +far beyond the reach of your retaliation. This is the promise and the +challenge that will hang in your night sky from this moment forward. +Look at the planet Venus, men of Earth, and see a Goddess of Vengeance, +poised to wreak its wrath upon those who betray the peace." + +The Delegate sat down. + + * * * * * + +Four days later, a mysterious explosion rocked the quiet sands of Los +Alamos, and the Venus spacecraft was no more. Two hours after that, the +robot delegate, its message delivered, its mission fulfilled, requested +to be locked inside a bombproof chamber. When the door was opened, the +Delegate was an exploded ruin. + +The news flashed with lightning speed over the world, and Jerry Bridges' +eyewitness accounts of the incredible event was syndicated throughout +the nation. But his sudden celebrity left him vaguely unsatisfied. + +He tried to explain his feeling to Greta on his first night back in +Washington. They were in his apartment, and it was the first time Greta +had consented to pay him the visit. + +"Well, what's _bothering_ you?" Greta pouted. "You've had the biggest +story of the year under your byline. I should think you'd be tickled +pink." + +"It's not that," Jerry said moodily. "But ever since I heard the +Delegate speak, something's been nagging me." + +"But don't you think he's done good? Don't you think they'll be +impressed by what he said?" + +"I'm not worried about that. I think that damn robot did more for +peace than anything that's ever come along in this cockeyed world. But +still ..." + +Greta snuggled up to him on the sofa. "You worry too much. Don't you +ever think of anything else? You should learn to relax. It can be fun." + +She started to prove it to him, and Jerry responded the way a normal, +healthy male usually does. But in the middle of an embrace, he cried +out: + +"Wait a minute!" + +"What's the matter?" + +"I just thought of something! Now where the hell did I put my old +notebooks?" + +He got up from the sofa and went scurrying to a closet. From a debris of +cardboard boxes, he found a worn old leather brief case, and cackled +with delight when he found the yellowed notebooks inside. + +"What _are_ they?" Greta said. + +"My old school notebooks. Greta, you'll have to excuse me. But there's +something I've got to do, right away!" + +"That's all right with me," Greta said haughtily. "I know when I'm not +wanted." + +She took her hat and coat from the hall closet, gave him one last chance +to change his mind, and then left. + +Five minutes later, Jerry Bridges was calling the airlines. + + * * * * * + +It had been eleven years since Jerry had walked across the campus of +Clifton University, heading for the ivy-choked main building. It was +remarkable how little had changed, but the students seemed incredibly +young. He was winded by the time he asked the pretty girl at the desk +where Professor Martin Coltz could be located. + +"Professor Coltz?" She stuck a pencil to her mouth. "Well, I guess he'd +be in the Holland Laboratory about now." + +"Holland Laboratory? What's that?" + +"Oh, I guess that was after your time, wasn't it?" + +Jerry felt decrepit, but managed to say: "It must be something new since +I was here. Where is this place?" + +He followed her directions, and located a fresh-painted building three +hundred yards from the men's dorm. He met a student at the door, who +told him that Professor Coltz would be found in the physics department. + +The room was empty when Jerry entered, except for the single stooped +figure vigorously erasing a blackboard. He turned when the door opened. +If the students looked younger, Professor Coltz was far older than Jerry +remembered. He was a tall man, with an unruly confusion of straight gray +hair. He blinked when Jerry said: + +"Hello, Professor. Do you remember me? Jerry Bridges?" + +"Of course! I thought of you only yesterday, when I saw your name in the +papers--" + +They sat at facing student desks, and chatted about old times. But Jerry +was impatient to get to the point of his visit, and he blurted out: + +"Professor Coltz, something's been bothering me. It bothered me from the +moment I heard the Delegate speak. I didn't know what it was until last +night, when I dug out my old college notebooks. Thank God I kept them." + +Coltz's eyes were suddenly hooded. + +"What do you mean, Jerry?" + +"There was something about the Robot's speech that sounded familiar--I +could have sworn I'd heard some of the words before. I couldn't prove +anything until I checked my old notes, and here's what I found." + +He dug into his coat pocket and produced a sheet of paper. He unfolded +it and read aloud. + +"'It's my belief that peace is the responsibility of individuals, of +nations, and someday, even of worlds ...' Sound familiar, Professor?" + +Coltz shifted uncomfortably. "I don't recall every silly thing I said, +Jerry." + +"But it's an interesting coincidence, isn't it, Professor? These very +words were spoken by the Delegate from Venus." + +"A coincidence--" + +"Is it? But I also remember your interest in robotics. I'll never forget +that mechanical homing pigeon you constructed. And you've probably +learned much more these past eleven years." + +"What are you driving at, Jerry?" + +"Just this, Professor. I had a little daydream, recently, and I want you +to hear it. I dreamed about a group of teachers, scientists, and +engineers, a group who were suddenly struck by an exciting, incredible +idea. A group that worked in the quiet and secrecy of a University on a +fantastic scheme to force the idea of peace into the minds of the +world's big shots. Does my dream interest you, Professor?" + +"Go on." + +"Well, I dreamt that this group would secretly launch an earth satellite +of their own, and arrange for the nose cone to come down safely at a +certain time and place. They would install a marvelous electronic robot +within the cone, ready to be assembled. They would beam a radio message +to earth from the cone, seemingly as if it originated from their +'spaceship.' Then, when the Robot was assembled, they would speak +through it to demand peace for all mankind ..." + +"Jerry, if you do this--" + +"You don't have to say it, Professor, I know what you're thinking. I'm +a reporter, and my business is to tell the world everything I know. But +if I did it, there might not be a world for me to write about, would +there? No, thanks, Professor. As far as I'm concerned, what I told you +was nothing more than a daydream." + + * * * * * + +Jerry braked the convertible to a halt, and put his arm around Greta's +shoulder. She looked up at the star-filled night, and sighed +romantically. + +Jerry pointed. "That one." + +Greta shivered closer to him. + +"And to think what that terrible planet can do to us!" + +"Oh, I dunno. Venus is also the Goddess of Love." + +He swung his other arm around her, and Venus winked approvingly. + + +THE END + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_ + October 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that + the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling + and typographical errors have been corrected without note. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Delegate from Venus, by Henry Slesar + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DELEGATE FROM VENUS *** + +***** This file should be named 25086.txt or 25086.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/2/5/0/8/25086/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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