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diff --git a/29242.txt b/29242.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b587e04 --- /dev/null +++ b/29242.txt @@ -0,0 +1,950 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Made in Tanganyika, by Carl Richard Jacobi + +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: Made in Tanganyika + +Author: Carl Richard Jacobi + +Release Date: June 25, 2009 [EBook #29242] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MADE IN TANGANYIKA *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _Come, enjoy a Carl Jacobi field day--backed by his vivid, + irresistible imagination and his keen sense of fun. Or was it so + funny for Martin Sutter? For, unlike him, you'll surely be cautious + the next time you turn on your TV set--especially if you notice it + was made in Tanganyika._ + + + made + in + tanganyika + + _by ... Carl Jacobi_ + + + See what happens when two conchologists get caught + in a necromantic nightmare of their own. + + +On his fortieth birthday Martin Sutter decided life was too short to +continue in the rut that had been his existence for more than twenty +years. He withdrew his savings from the Explosion City Third Federal +Bank, stopped in a display room and informed a somewhat surprised clerk +he was taking the electric runabout with the blue bonnet. The +ground-car, complete with extras, retailed for a tidy three thousand +credits. + +To accustom himself to the car's controls Sutter chose Highway 56 for a +driving lesson. He tooled the electric runabout up into the third level, +purred out across state at an effortless two hundred, then descended via +a cloverleaf to ground tier and entered a maze of subsidiary roads that +led through the summer countryside. + +In this manner he drove the major part of the afternoon. Travel was +light, away from the elevated lanes and he enjoyed himself. + +At four o'clock he began to look for a convenient place to turn around. +It was then that he sighted the roadside stand ahead. Above it a freshly +painted sign read: TV SETS. LATEST MODELS. SPECIAL WHOLESALE PRICES! + +Sutter smiled. Whoever heard of selling television sets on a country +highway? It was like--why, it was like selling eggs in the lobby of the +Hotel International! Then it occurred to him that his own TV set had not +been in good working order for more than a year. The olfactory control +had jammed last week while he was watching a Sumatran tribal ceremony, +inland from Soerabaja, and he had been unable to smell the backdrop +frangipani blossoms. It was time he bought a new set.... + +Sutter touched a stud and the electric runabout coasted to a halt. As he +climbed out of the car and walked across the highway toward the stand, +he thought for a moment there was something wrong with his contact +lenses or perhaps his eyes. + +The stand and the sign above it appeared to waver uncertainly, to become +disjointed as though viewed through uneven glass. But the effect passed +and Sutter approached the stand and nodded to the individual tilted back +in a chair beside it. + +He was a rawboned man with a thatch of thick black hair and small watery +eyes. He was dressed, oddly enough, in a pair of tight-fitting trousers +of white lawn, a flaming red tunic and a yellow cummerbund. + +"Yes, sir," he said. "Can I show you something in a new TV?" + +"Where are they?" asked Sutter, surveying the empty stand. + +"Out back," replied the man. "Just a minute and I'll show you." + +He rose lazily from his chair and led the way around to the rear of the +stand. Sutter could have sworn he had seen an apple orchard behind the +structure as he rode up, but he must have been mistaken for now he saw a +low-roofed, aluminum-walled building there, huge doors open on one side. +It looked, he thought, somewhat like a hangar.... + +Two hours later Sutter arrived back at his home in town. He parked the +car, went around to the rear compartment, lifted out a large packing +case and carried it to his sitting room. There, with the aid of hammer +and crowbar, he stripped away the protective boards and then trundled +the cabinet to an unoccupied corner. + +It was certainly a unique TV set. A very new model, the salesman had +said. The cabinet was shaped like a delta with a cube surmounted on the +pointed end of the triangle. The cube held the screen, the triangle, the +controls. Finished in a subdued ochre color, the set captured the light +of the dying day that filtered through the bay window and gleamed with a +soft radiance. + +Sutter looked at the control panel and his smile of satisfaction faded +somewhat. It looked a little complicated.... + +Instead of the usual knobs there were five small spoked wheels, each +closely calibrated in lavender with resilient studs that seemed to be +made of plush. Below this was a small dial with the legend _Element of +Probability_ lettered on it. + +Sutter was about to switch on the set when the door buzzer sounded. He +crossed to the door and pulled it open. + +A tall gangly man stood there. Swarthy, face partially covered by a +neatly trimmed beard, he looked the conventional picture of a story-book +villain. He wore a broad-brimmed hat and an under-slung pipe was clamped +in his teeth. He said in a deep booming voice, "Are you Mr. Martin +Sutter?" + +"Yes, I am. What can I do for you?" + +The man said his name was Lucien Travail. He explained that he had been +looking for a room and that Mrs. Conworth, the landlady, had informed +him she had no vacancies but suggested that her roomer, Mr. Sutter, +might be interested in a roommate. + +"Of course I realize you don't know me but I believe our strangeness +will be offset by our mutual hobby." + +Sutter was silent, waiting for him to continue. + +"I collect shells," Travail said. + +For thirty years Sutter had pursued a hobby which had begun in his +boyhood days during summer vacations at the seashore--the collecting of +exoskeletons of mollusks and crustaceans. Long ago his assortment of +cowries, spiny combs and yellow dragon-castles had outgrown their glass +cabinet and overflowed into three carefully catalogued packing cases. + +To Sutter, anyone who liked shells was a person above suspicion. Thus it +was that two days later, after a casual checking of the bearded man's +references, he invited Travail to move in with him. + +During those two days Sutter tried unsuccessfully to put his new +television set into operation. But the set refused to work. Turn the +queer dials as he would, all he could get on the elliptical screen was a +blur of blinding colors. + +On the evening of the third day Travail looked up from his newspaper, +said, "It says here that the president of the Federal Union Congress is +going to make a speech in New Paris. Will you tune him in?" + +Sutter frowned. "I would," he said, "but my set is out of order. I +should call a repair man, but I had hoped to get it regulated myself." + +Travail laid down his pipe. "Out of order, eh?" he said. "I'm sort of +handy with gadgets. Let me take a look at it." + +He walked across to the cabinet, turned it around and stood peering at +the complicated chassis. A small brass nameplate caught his eye: +_Manufactured by the Tanganyika Company, Dodoma, Empire of Tanganyika, +East Africa. Under charter of the Atomic Commercial Enterprise +Commission. Warning: Permit only an accredited employee of this company +to touch wiring._ + +Travail snorted. "Accredited employee, my foot! I know as much about +these things as they do." + +He went into the kitchen and returned with a screwdriver. While Sutter +looked on with apprehensive eyes, he began to tinker with the wiring. +Suddenly there was a dull report and a flash of flame. Travail jerked +his arm back as a thin streamer of smoke and the smell of burning +insulation entered the room. + +"You've broken it," said Sutter accusingly. + +But his voice died abruptly as the screen flared into light and a low +hum sounded behind the panel. An instant later the light became subdued +and a streak of tawny yellow took form. The yellow slowly coalesced into +a sandy stretch of beach with long rolling swells washing up on it, to +recede in a smother of foam. Through the amplifier came the muted roar +of the breakers and the low soughing of the wind. + +"Well, we got something at any rate," Travail said. "I wonder what it +is." + +Sutter stared, fascinated. The view of the beach seemed to come into +sharper focus as he watched, and he saw now that it was an incredibly +lonely scene, with the sea stretching away to a vanishing point and a +stand of stunted spruce flanking the width of sand. But what caught his +eye and held him almost in a trance was the array of objects littering +the sand at the water's edge. + +They were shells. Not the prosaic commonplace shells usually found on a +New England shore nor even the brighter colored, more intricately formed +shells of tropic seas. These were shells he had never seen before, even +in library collections. Alien and soft-hued and lovely shells that +caused his collector's heart to jump wildly. He saw a delicate +star-shaped thing that might have been fashioned of porcelain and +enameled with the brush of the Mings. He saw spiral coverings from +uncatalogued cephalopods, many chambered and many hued. He saw shells of +a thousand shapes and designs, all incredibly beautiful.... + +Sutter forgot everything else as he sat there staring at that +collector's paradise. + +"I'll see if I can get something else," said Travail. + +"No!" said Sutter quickly. "Don't touch it!" + +He continued to stare hungrily at the alien shells until suddenly the +scene before him grew dim, then faded completely away. + +Travail laughed shortly. "Somebody sold you a fluke. This set must be an +off brand. Incidentally, isn't Tanganyika a colony governed by the +Federal Union Congress?" + +"Yes, it is," replied Sutter. "I don't understand this at all. There's +no _Empire_ of Tanganyika." + + * * * * * + +Next morning after breakfast Sutter announced that he was driving into +the country to visit a friend. There was no reason why he should not +have told his roommate the truth--that he was going to look up the man +who had sold him the TV set. No reason except for the odd fact that +Travail had made no mention of the alien shells, and Sutter kept +thinking that a shell collector would have been immediately aware of the +rareness of them. + +Once again Sutter drove out across state and down the highway where he +had seen the roadside stand. But when he reached the spot there was no +sign of the stand. The big oak tree which had shaded it and the rail +fence on the adjoining property were there. But no stand. As Sutter +stared with perplexed eyes at the spot he saw something he had not +noticed before. + +At the edge of the highway was a large granite boulder with a bronze +plate fastened to its slanting surface. Sutter got out of the car, +approached it and read: + + _This property has been preserved as a State Park to commemorate the + first successful trial explosion of the Hydrogen Bomb which took + place on this site and marked the beginning of an era._ + +It seemed to Sutter as he stood there that the surrounding silence grew +more intense. Then he passed through a wide gateway and began to stride +across an evenly clipped lawn toward a grove of trees beyond. Halfway he +paused and glanced absently at his watch. It was exactly twelve o'clock +noon. + +And abruptly the scene before him slipped out of plumb. The sky and the +lawn seemed to alter positions, to rotate madly as in a vortex. The +whirling ceased and the next instant Sutter stood on the shore of a +lonely sea with a tawny width of sand stretching out before him and the +waves washing up almost at his feet. Then he saw the shells.... + +It was the beach of the alien shells! There they lay, scattered about +the sand, hundreds, thousands of them, alien and delicate and lovely, +exoskeletons the like of which he had never seen before. Their pastel +colors blended with one another to form a horizontal rainbow extending +into the measureless distance. + +And somehow, as Sutter walked among them, picking his way with care, the +years of his life seemed to slip away and he was a small boy at the +seashore again, entranced with his first shell discovery. He could even +hear his mother's voice calling "Be careful, Martin! Don't go too far!" + +He walked on and on, slowly, uncertainly, until the beach and the sea +began to waver like a heat mirage. And suddenly the shells and the water +vanished and he was on the green grass again with the grove of trees +just ahead. He turned, saw a white highway with his car parked on the +shoulder. + +Dazedly, Sutter walked back to the car.... + +All next morning he ruminated over his strange experience. Toward noon +the pieces of the puzzle began to fit slowly together in his mind. But +the partial answer at which he arrived seemed too fantastic for belief. +Could it be possible that when he had stopped at the roadside stand he +had blundered, in some inexplicable way, into another dimension? + +Sutter had a layman's knowledge of Einsteinian physics, and he knew that +experiments in Time were being made every day. Only last week he had +read in the paper of an army officer who had reportedly Time-traveled +some twenty-two minutes. And a year ago the Belgian scientist, Delgar, +claimed to have entered a secondary world which he declared impinged on +our own. + +Assuming all this to be true, then it could be that the Tanganyika +television set was a product manufactured in Future Time by a company +that, by Sutter's Time standards, didn't yet exist. + +The following day saw Sutter begin an experiment of which he was rather +proud. Travail had said that he had tried to tune in the noon news +broadcast yesterday on the TV and had turned the set on from twelve +o'clock until five minutes after. At a nearby appliance store Sutter +purchased a clock control which would turn his television set on and off +at any chosen time. He set the control for two o'clock, then managed to +lure Travail out of the house for the afternoon by giving him an +invitation he'd received for a lecture on marine life at a local club. +Next, he drove again to the H-bomb site and stood waiting in the +grass-like park, watch in hand. + +At precisely two o'clock there came that queer staggering of earth and +sky. The trees gave way to the stretch of sand; the waves, +leaden-colored and cheerless, dotted with white caps rolled up on the +lonely shore. As before Sutter felt that same exhilaration, that same +reversal to the spirit of his youth. But despite his mental excitement +he maintained an awareness of the situation and a remembrance of why he +had come here. + +When he walked among the shells this time he carried a large basket with +him and he picked up shells and dropped them into the basket, selecting +those that were the most alien. + +In due time the basket was filled to overflowing and Sutter stood still, +waiting. Once more the surrounding landscape underwent its change. After +the whirling had ceased and the initial feeling of vertigo had passed +Sutter carried the full basket back to the car and began the long drive +home. + +As he drove he mused over what Travail would say when he saw these +shells. Then on second thought, he decided not to show them to him. +Travail was getting on his nerves. He had obviously lied about his +interest in shells. On discussing the subject with him Sutter found he +did not know the first thing about them. In fact, he regretted taking +him in as a roommate. + +He was convinced that Travail's friendly good-fellowship attitude was +just a pose, cloaking a so far mysterious motive. But it could be that +Travail knew of the value of Sutter's shell collection. Yesterday a +letter had come from the Federal Arts Museum offering five thousand +credits for the lot, and while he had made no mention of the amount, +Sutter had been foolish enough to tell Travail there had been an offer. + +"Are you going to sell?" Travail had asked. + +"Certainly not. They're worth five times the price they offered." + +"Are they really?" said Travail. "That makes my own collection seem +worthless by comparison." + +Oh, Travail could be clever all right! Why else had he made no comment +about the alien shells they both had seen on the television set, if he +did know something of the value of shells? + +Arriving home, Sutter entered by the rear door and carried the basket of +shells to his bedroom. There he took them out and one by one spread them +on the table. He drew a goose-necked lamp down close and from the table +drawer took out a powerful ato-magnifying glass. Then he selected one of +the larger shells and began to examine it. + + * * * * * + +After a while he took a small keyhole saw which he kept for such +purposes, and very carefully began to cut the shell into two equal +portions. Once again he moved the ato-glass and began to study one of +the sections. But the lamp was not very powerful, and insufficient for +the tiny details. Sutter abruptly remembered the four-position lamp in +the sitting room. He took the shell and the ato-glass and went to the +front room, hoping that Travail was not there. + +To his relief he found the sitting room deserted. The television set +stood silent in a corner and as he passed it Sutter switched it on, then +crossed to the four-position lamp and turned it up full. For a second +time he peered through the ato-glass long and intently. + +The bisected shell appeared to be a spinal univalve, resembling the +familiar cephalopoda, _nautilus_, with thin septa dividing the many +chambers. + +Behind him the Tanganyika TV swelled on, the screen presenting that same +scene of the beach of shells. As it did so Sutter uttered a startled +exclamation. + +Under the magnifying glass the chambers in the bisected shell suddenly +became more than outgrowths of marine organism. _They were rooms!_ +Tessellated ceilings, microscopically mosaic inlaid floors, long +sweeping staircases with graceful slender balustrades and tall almost +Ionic columns.... + +Heart pounding, Sutter looked again. + +He saw that it was actually the light from the television set that was +illuminating the interior of the shell, lighting it with a strange +radiance that seemed to extend outward from the shell in a steadily +widening cone. His hand touched this cone, and it possessed a curious +solidity. + +He hadn't been mistaken. _There were rooms in that shell!_ Narrow +corridors with arched doorways opened off alcoves and galleries. One +vaulted chamber had a kind of dais in the center of it. The entire inner +structure was fashioned of pastel-tinted walls which caught the light of +the TV and radiated it to every corner in a soft glow of effulgence. + +A magnetic lure swept over Sutter. He felt an overwhelming desire to +step into that cone of light.... + +Whether the exoskeleton expanded to admit his entrance or whether his +own figure magically dwindled he could not tell, but the next instant he +found himself in a fairy palace with all about him a world of silence. + +A long broad hallway stretched before him. At the far end a ramp angled +upward to a higher level. Sutter walked forward slowly, aware in a vague +way that he had entered another plane that was at once a microcosm and a +macrocosm. On the second level the way ahead divided. After a moment's +hesitation he chose the left-hand passage, passing through a +keyhole-shaped archway into a broad amphitheater, empty of furnishings, +with a kind of terrace or gallery at the far end. Emerging upon that +gallery, Sutter saw that he had reached the outer limit of the shell. +The edges of the wall before him were cut off, jagged and rough, where +his saw had done its work. + +He was looking out upon the normal world that was his living room. + +He stiffened as the door to the room opened and Lucien Travail entered. +He sat down before the center table and carefully, systematically began +going through the contents of the table drawer. Startled, Sutter +watched from his strange vantage point. Travail had not noticed that the +television set was turned on, and the high-backed davenport apparently +hid the cone of blue light from his view. + +He took a sheet of paper from the drawer, began reading it. With a start +Sutter recognized his letter from the Federal Arts Museum. + +And as a wave of wrath swept over him, Sutter saw that the beach scene +on the television set was slowly fading away. Fear and a realization of +his strange position struck him. He turned and ran madly back across the +amphitheater, down the ramp and along the long hallway to the point +where he had entered the shell. Even as he approached it the cone of +blue light dimmed, wavered and was replaced by a wall of partial +blackness. + +Sutter sent his hands clawing desperately at that wall as it flickered +twice and momentarily became translucent again. He forced his body +between folds of palpable darkness, slid into the vanishing blue cone. +Instantly he found himself in his normal world, standing in the center +of the sitting room. Travail looked up, startled. + +"Hullo. Where did you come from?" he said finally. + +Sutter said, "What are you doing in my drawer?" + +"I was looking for my tobacco pouch," Travail replied easily. "I'm sure +I left it here on the table last night. I thought the maid might have +put it in the drawer." + +In his bedroom Sutter wrapped each of the alien shells in a sheet of +newspaper and restored them to the basket. He placed the basket on the +top shelf of the closet, concealing it with a couple of old hats. + +He didn't sleep well that night. His mind reviewed over and over his +strange experience. Toward morning he fell into a deep sleep and dreamed +a wild dream of walking down a broad highway, flanked on one side by an +endless line of television sets and on the other by man-high hills of +alien shells. + +He had his breakfast at the little coffee shop around the corner. But +halfway back to his apartment he suddenly thought of Travail alone in +the house with his shells. He broke into a run and he was panting for +breath when he reached his door. + +The basket of shells was still on the shelf, but the newspaper wrappings +were loosened, and the bisected shell was entirely free of covering. And +he had not left them that way last evening. + +Had atomic transmigration attempted to draw the shells back into the +Time sphere to which they really belonged? Sutter was a logical man, and +even as this thought came his mind rejected it. It must be Travail. He +had taken a sample shell from the basket and even now perhaps was +dickering with the officials of the Federal Arts Museum on a price. + +Sutter picked up the bisected shell and went into the sitting room. He +carefully placed the shell upon the table so that the light from the +television set would fall directly upon it. Then he sat down to wait. + +As he waited he mentally viewed the material prospects of his discovery. + +If the Federal Arts Museum had offered five thousand credits for his old +collection, they would surely double their price on these rarities. He +saw himself the recipient of a fat check, his name and picture in the +papers, television interviews, lecture assignments, world fame ... + +And to think that Travail had the brazen nerve to believe he could cash +in on his good fortune! + +"Damned bearded coot!" Sutter mumbled to himself. "He must take me for +an utter fool!" + +Footsteps sounded and his bearded roommate entered the room. Was it +fancy or did Sutter see in those grey eyes a gleam of mingled avarice +and satisfaction? + +"Have a cigar?" said Travail casually. + +Sutter shook his head. "You know I don't smoke." He crossed the room, +adjusted the controls of the television set and watched the familiar +beach scene come into sharper focus. As the sound of the washing waves +boomed from the speaker, the cone of bluish light took form before the +bisected shell. Sutter moved the shell slightly so that it lay at +directly right angles to the panel of the TV set. Travail, drawing on +his cigar, watched him curiously. + +"What are you doing?" he asked at length. + +"Little experiment. Stand over here and I'll show you. Here, in front of +this cone of light." + +Travail took the place indicated. His face was emotionless as he looked +beyond the light into the bisected shell. + +"Now walk forward," commanded Sutter. + +"I'll do nothing of the sort," said Travail, starting to back away. +"What are you up to anyway?" + +Sutter had no plan in mind beyond an overwhelming desire to put a bad +fright into his roommate in payment for what he considered a monstrous +act of duplicity. It would serve Travail right if, once he entered the +secondary plane of the shell, he would be forced to stay there a while. +A good scare would cause him to leave, maybe. + +Sutter moved up behind the bearded man and gave him a violent shove +forward. "In you go!" he cried hysterically. + +Travail pitched head foremost. But, spinning, he clutched at Sutter's +arm, gripping it with the desperation of a drowning man. Half inside, +half outside the cone of blue light he seemed propelled into the depths +of the bisected shell by an irresistible force. In vain did Sutter fight +to release the hold upon his arm. His squirming legs fastened themselves +about the legs of a heavy Windsor chair, kicked frantically. + +The chair spun from between his feet and lurched heavily across the room +where it fell hard upon the television set, shattering the glowing +screen into a thousand fragments. Simultaneously, Sutter slid forward +into the bisected shell as the cone of light vanished after him.... + +Mrs. Conworth, the landlady, reported the disappearance of her two +roomers on August first, a week after she last saw them. First, however, +to the disgust of the police, she cleaned their apartment, giving to the +trash man all valueless and inconsequential articles, including a box of +old sea shells which she found in the closet. It was a curious fact that +neither Sutter nor Travail possessed relatives or friends to make +inquiry as to their whereabouts and thus without incentive the official +search died into nothing. + +Mrs. Conworth rather regretted the loss of her bachelor roomers and, as +she said to her neighbor across the street, she kept one memento of +them--a thing that looked like a shell but wasn't a shell. She thought +it must be one of them optical illusion things. + +"When you look at it in a certain way," said Mrs. Conworth, "it seems as +if there are two tiny men inside it, fighting to get out." + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Fantastic Universe_ May 1954. + 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 Project Gutenberg's Made in Tanganyika, by Carl Richard Jacobi + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MADE IN TANGANYIKA *** + +***** This file should be named 29242.txt or 29242.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/9/2/4/29242/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://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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