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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:34 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:53:34 -0700 |
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diff --git a/30330-h/30330-h.htm b/30330-h/30330-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6c5ab7f --- /dev/null +++ b/30330-h/30330-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1059 @@ +<!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" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of High Dragon Bump, by Don Thompson + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p {margin-top: .75em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: .75em;} + h1,h2 {text-align: center; font-weight: normal;} + hr {width: 45%; margin: 2em auto; visibility: hidden;} + body {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .rgt,.figc {text-align: right;} + .figc {margin: 0 auto; width: 600px;} + img {border: none;} + a:link,a:visited {text-decoration: none;} + p.cap:first-letter {float: left; margin-right: .05em; padding-top: .05em; font-size: 300%; line-height: .8em; width: auto;} + .dcap {text-transform: uppercase;} + .bk1 {text-align: justify; line-height: 2; float: left; width: 15em; margin: 0 2em 2em 0;} + .figt {float: left; clear: left; margin: 15px; padding: 0; width: 140px;} + .trn {border: solid 1px; margin: 3em 15%; min-height: 230px;} + .trn p {margin: 15px;} + .sp1 {font-size: 150%;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30330 ***</div> + +<div class="figc"><img src="images/001.png" width="600" height="472" alt="" title="" /> +<i>Illustrated by Paul Orban</i></div> + +<h1><span class="sp1"><b>High Dragon Bump</b></span></h1> + +<h2>BY DON THOMPSON</h2> + +<div class="bk1"><i><big>If it took reduction or torch +hair, the Cirissins wanted a +bump. Hokum, thistle, gluck.</big></i></div> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">A young</span> and very beautiful +girl with golden blond hair and +smooth skin the color of creamed +sweet potatoes floated in the middle +of the windowless metal room into +which Wayne Brighton drifted. +The girl was not exactly naked, but +her few filmy clothes concealed +nothing.</p> + +<p>Wayne cleared his throat, his apprehension +changing rapidly to confusion.</p> + +<p>"<i>You</i> are going to <i>reduce</i> me?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"The word is seduce, mister," the +girl said. "They told me reduce, +too, but they don't talk real good, +and I think I'm supposed to seduce +you so you'll tell 'em something, +and then they'll let me go. I guess. +I hope. What is it they wantcha to +tell 'em?"</p> + +<p>Wayne cleared his throat again, +striving merely to keep a firm grip +on his sanity. Things had been happening +much too fast for him to +have retained anything like his customary +composure.</p> + +<p>He said, "Well, they want me to +get them a, uh—well, a high +dragon bump." He pronounced the +words carefully.</p> + +<p>"So why dontcha?" the girl +asked.</p> + +<p>Wayne's voice rose. "I don't even +know what it is. I told them and +they don't believe me. Now you're +here! I suppose if I can't be reduced—seduced—into +getting them +one, it will wind up with torch hair. +Believe me, I never heard of a high +dragon bump."</p> + +<p>"Now, don't get panicky!" the +girl pleaded. "After all, I'm scared +too."</p> + +<p>"I am not scared!" Wayne replied +indignantly. But he realized +that he was.</p> + +<p>So far, in the hour or so he'd +been a captive of the Cirissins, he'd +managed to keep his fright pretty +well subdued. He'd understood almost +at once what had happened, +and his first reaction had not been +terror or even any great degree of +surprise.</p> + +<p>He was a scientist and he had a +scientist's curiosity.</p> + +<p>And at first the Cirissins—or the +one that had done all the talking—had +been cooperative in answering +his questions. But then, when he +wasn't able to comprehend what +they meant by high dragon bump, +they'd started getting impatient.</p> + +<p>"What's your name?" he asked +the girl. She was making gentle +swimming motions with her hands +and feet, moving gradually closer +to him.</p> + +<p>"Sheilah," she said. "Sheilah +Ralue. I'm a model. I pose for +pitchers. You know—for sexy +magazines and calendars and stuff +like that."</p> + +<p>"I see. You were posing +when—?"</p> + +<p>"When they snatched me, yeah. +Couple hours ago, I guess. The +flash bulb went off and blinded me +for a second like it always does, and +I seemed to be falling. Then I was +here. Only I still don't even know +where here is. Do you? How come +we don't weigh nothing? It's +ghastly!"</p> + +<p>"We're in a space ship," Wayne +told her. "In free fall, circling earth +a thousand miles or so out. I +thought you at least knew we were +in a space ship."</p> + +<p>The girl said, "Oh, bull. We can't +be in no space ship. How'd we get +here so fast?"</p> + +<p>"They have a matter transmitter, +but I haven't the slightest idea of +how it works. Obviously it's limited +to living creatures or they could just +as well have taken whatever it is +they want instead of ... You don't +happen to know what a high dragon +bump is, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Don't be dumb. Of course I ... +well, unless it's a dance or something. +I use to be a dancer, ya +know. Sort of."</p> + +<p>"With bubbles, I imagine," +Wayne said.</p> + +<p>"Tassels. They was my specialty. +But there's more money in posing +for pitchers, and the work ain't +quite so—"</p> + +<p>"I doubt that a high dragon +bump is a dance," Wayne said.</p> + +<p>Then he rubbed his chin. High +dragon bump? Bumps and grinds? +Highland fling? Chinese dragon +dances? Hell, why not?</p> + +<p>The idea of space travelers visiting +earth to learn a new dance was +no more fantastic than the idea of +them being here at all.</p> + +<p>Wayne turned his face to the +door and shouted, "Hey, is that it? +A dance? You want us to teach you +a dance called the high dragon +bump?"</p> + +<p>A muffled metallic voice from the +other side said, "Nod danz. Bump. +Huguff quig."</p> + +<p>Wayne shrugged and grinned +weakly at Sheilah. "Well, we're +making headway. We know one +thing that it isn't."</p> + +<p>The girl had drifted so close to +him now that he could feel the +warmth of her body and smell the +overwhelming fragrance of her perfume.</p> + +<p>She put one hand on his arm, +and Wayne found that he had neither +the strength nor the inclination +to jerk away.</p> + +<p>But he protested weakly, "Now, +listen, there's no point in you—I +mean—even if we did, I couldn't +produce a high dragon bump."</p> + +<p>"What kind of work do you do, +mister?" Sheilah asked softly, drawing +herself even closer. "You know, +you ain't even told me your name +yet."</p> + +<p>"It's Wayne," he said, fumbling +in an effort to loosen his tie so he +could breath more easily. "I'm an +instructor. I teach physics at Kyler +College, and I've got a weekly science +show on TV. In fact I'd just +finished my show when they got me. +I was leaving the studio, starting +down the stairs. Thought at first +I'd missed a step and was falling, +but I just kept falling. And I landed +here, and ... Now, don't do that!"</p> + +<p>"Why, I wasn't doing nothing. +Whaddya do on your TV show?"</p> + +<p>"I talk. About science. Physics. +Like today, I was discussing +the H-bomb. How it works, you +know, and why the fallout is dangerous, +and ... Oh, good Gawd! +Seduce, reduce! High dragon +bump!"</p> + +<p>He shoved her away from him +abruptly and violently and he went +hurtling in the opposite direction.</p> + +<p>"Well, hey!" Sheilah protested. +"You don't need to get so rough. I +wasn't going to—"</p> + +<p>"Shut up," Wayne said. "I think +I've figured out what the Cirissins +want!</p> + +<p>"Hey! Hey, open the door," he +shouted. "I've got to talk to you."</p> + +<p>The door opened and a Cirissin +floated in.</p> + +<p>Sheilah turned her head away, +shuddering, and Wayne found it +wise to close his eyes and open +them little by little to grow re-accustomed +to the sight gradually.</p> + +<p>The only thing he could think of +with which to compare the Cirissins +was the intestinal complex of +an anemic elephant.</p> + +<p>It was not an entirely satisfactory +comparison; but then, from his +point of view, the Cirissins were entirely +unsatisfactory creatures.</p> + +<p>Each of the four he had seen was +nearly twice his size. They had no +recognizable features such as eyes, +ears, nose, head, arms or legs.</p> + +<p>Tentacle-like protrusions of various +size and length seemed to serve +as the sensory and prehensile organs. +Wayne had identified one +waving, restless flexible stalk as the +eye. He suspected another of being +the mouth, except that it apparently +wasn't used for talking. The +voice came from somewhere deep +inside the convoluted mass of pastel-streaked +tissue.</p> + +<p>"Wand tog?" the Cirissin rumbled.</p> + +<p>Wayne said, "Yes. Do you mind +telling me what you want a high +dragon bump <i>for</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Blast away hearth," the Cirissin +replied unhesitatingly.</p> + +<p>Wayne swallowed and found it +unnaturally difficult to do so.</p> + +<p>"To blast away earth?" he said. +"You can do that with just one +high dragon bump?"</p> + +<p>"Certificate. Alteration energy +maguntoot. Compilated, though. +Want splain?"</p> + +<p>Wayne said, "Never mind. I believe +you. Just tell me this: Why? +Who do you feel it's necessary to +do it?"</p> + +<p>"Cause <i>is</i> necessary," the Cirissin +explained. "Hearth no good. Whee +dun lake. Godda gut red oft."</p> + +<p>Sheilah gasped, "Why the inhuman +beasts!"</p> + +<p>Wayne expended one sidelong silencing +glance on her and then said, +"I see. And just suppose now that I +don't give you a high dragon +bump? What do you do then?"</p> + +<p>"Use hot tummy ache your +arnium fishing bumps. Got them us +elves. Tooking longthier, more hurtful, +but can. Few don't gives high +dragon bump tweddy far whores, +thin godda."</p> + +<p>Wayne was silent for a while, +staring at the alien creature, aware +of Sheilah staring at him.</p> + +<p>"Twenty-four hours," he muttered. +"Then they use uranium fission +bombs. Oh, hell!"</p> + +<p>Finally he shrugged. "All right, +I'll do it. Anyway, I'll try. I'll do +what I can."</p> + +<p>Sheilah said, "Hey, listen mister, +you can't ..."</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" Wayne snapped. +"How do you know what I can do? +You just let me handle this."</p> + +<p>"No sea juicing?" the Cirissin +asked, waving his eye stem at +Sheilah.</p> + +<p>"No. No sea juicing, and no +torch hair either, please. I just +didn't understand what you wanted +at first. Now, if I could talk to your +captain—or, are you the captain?"</p> + +<p>The Cirissin replied, "I spoke +man. Name Orealgrailbliqu. Capitate +nod sparking merry can languish. +I only earning languish. Gut, +hah? Tree whacks."</p> + +<p>"Uh, yeah, very good indeed," +Wayne said. "And in only three +weeks! Now, Mr.—you don't mind +if I call you O'Reilly, do you? Well, +then, O'Reilly, do you have any +suggestions as to how I should go +about getting you a high dragon +bump? You want me to make you +one? Or—"</p> + +<p>"Yukon mike?" O'Reilly asked.</p> + +<p>Wayne shrugged modestly. "Of +course. With proper materials and +equipment—and enough time." He +wondered if there was any chance +at all of convincing O'Reilly of +that.</p> + +<p>"Nod mush timeless," O'Reilly +said doubtfully. "God gut lab tarry, +few wand lug."</p> + +<p>Wayne hesitated, partly to translate +O'Reilly's rumblings and partly +to marvel at an audacious idea +taking shape in his mind.</p> + +<p>He said, "Uh, yes, by all means. +I <i>do</i> want to look at your laboratory. +Let's go."</p> + +<p>The Cirissin offered no objections +to Sheilah accompanying +them, so they followed him, pulling +themselves along the tubular corridor +by means of metal rings set in +the walls, apparently for that specific +purpose.</p> + +<p>It was the same means of propulsion +employed by their guide, +except that he used tentacles instead +of hands.</p> + +<p>They were more awkward than +he, and so they fell behind.</p> + +<p>"Listen, mister," Sheilah said. +"You're not really gonna help these +creeps, are ya? Cause, I mean, if +you are I'm gonna stop you—one +way or another."</p> + +<p>Wayne looked at her, feeling a +deep sadness that anything so gorgeous +could be so stupid. Stirred to +self-consciousness by her near-nudity, +he glanced quickly away.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you quit trying to +think?" he advised her. "I may not +be able to make a high dragon +bump, but so help me I'm going to +do my damnedest to see that they +get one. And don't you get any +stupid patriotic ideas. You just keep +out of it. Understand?"</p> + +<p>O'Reilly had thrown open a door +and was waiting for them.</p> + +<p>Wayne looked inside.</p> + +<p>"Smatter? Dun lake lab tarry?" +the Cirissin asked after waiting +nearly a minute for some comment.</p> + +<p>The laboratory probably wasn't +adequate to produce a hydrogen +bomb, Wayne realized; but he +wasn't at all sure. It was the +most complex, complete and compact +laboratory he had ever seen. +Its sheer size forced him to revise +upward his estimate of the overall +size of the ship.</p> + +<p>Much of the equipment was +totally alien to him, but there was +also a great deal that he could at +least guess the purpose of. Including +a fabulous array of electronic +equipment.</p> + +<p>When Wayne still didn't say anything, +the Cirissin closed the door. +"Batter blan," he announced. +"Wheeze india buck terth. Cup +girlish ear. Torch herf youdon +brink high dragon bump."</p> + +<p>Wayne said, "Huh?"</p> + +<p>"Flow me." O'Reilly led Wayne +and Sheilah through a maze of corridors, +tunnels and hatchways, +stopping at last to throw open a +door and let Wayne peer into the +control cabin of a miniature space +ship.</p> + +<p>O'Reilly jumblingly explained +that it was a reconnaissance ship, +used for visiting the surface of a +planet when it was impractical to +land the mother ship.</p> + +<p>The control board was simple: a +few dials, one or two buttons, several +switches and a view plate. It +looked too simple.</p> + +<p>Wayne said, "Now, wait. Let's +see if I have this straight. You want +me to take this ship to earth and +swipe you a high dragon bump. +And you're going to keep Sheilah +here and torture her if I don't deliver +the goods, huh?"</p> + +<p>The Cirissin said that was right. +"Kwiger butter. Jus bush piggest +putton. Token ley tours gutther."</p> + +<p>"I see. And what about communications?" +Wayne asked. "Is +the boat equipped with radio? +How can I let you know when I +have your high dragon bump?"</p> + +<p>O'Reilly said, "Can't. Combundlecations +Cirissin only."</p> + +<p>From his further explanation +Wayne gathered that communications +between the two ships was on +the basis of some sort of amplified +brain waves, and could carry only +the brain waves of Cirissins.</p> + +<p>Wayne considered the situation.</p> + +<p>Two hours to get to earth. No +radio. The big Cirissin ship was circling +earth at an unknown distance, +unknown speed and unknown direction. +And although the ship was +enormous, it would be impossible to +spot it from earth unless you knew +exactly where to look.</p> + +<p>He said, "It would really be better, +wouldn't it, if I could make the +high dragon bump right here?"</p> + +<p>O'Reilly agreed that it would be +better.</p> + +<p>"Well, let me try. You've got a +good lab, and we have plenty of +time. Twenty-four hours, you said? +Well, give me about ten hours in +the laboratory. If I can't produce a +high dragon bump in that time I'll +take the small ship down and get +you one. Okay?"</p> + +<p>While the Cirissin thought it over +in meditative silence Wayne was +aware of Sheilah watching him +with cold, hostile eyes. He wished +he could explain things to her, but +he didn't dare try.</p> + +<p>Finally O'Reilly said, "Hokum. +Tenners in lab. Thistle."</p> + +<p>"It'll be enough," Wayne assured +him.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="cap"><span class="dcap">Sheilah</span> was taken back to the +room where Wayne had met +her and the Cirissin instructed her +to stay there. He closed the door +but did not lock it. Then he took +Wayne back to the lab.</p> + +<p>"Neediest hulp?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Hulp? Help? Uh ... Why, no. +No, thanks. I can manage fine by +myself. In fact I'd rather work +alone. Fewer distractions the better, +you know."</p> + +<p>"Hack saw lent. Wheel buzzy +preparation. In trol room few deriding +hulp needed." Then O'Reilly +floated out the door.</p> + +<p>Wayne was astounded. He'd taken +it for granted that the Cirissin +would insist on supervising him, +and he'd been evolving elaborate +plans for escaping his attention.</p> + +<p>But Wayne thought he had the +explanation for the Cirissins' idiotic +behavior.</p> + +<p>This ship and everything about +it indicated an extremely high intelligence +and an advanced culture.</p> + +<p>Everything, that is, but the Cirissins +themselves.</p> + +<p>The idea of kidnapping him from +earth to provide them with a weapon +to destroy earth; kidnapping +Sheilah to seduce him; the idea of +even expecting him to be <i>able</i> to +produce such a weapon—it was all +idiotic.</p> + +<p>There was only one explanation +that he could see.</p> + +<p>The Cirissins <i>were</i> idiots.</p> + +<p>Some other race had produced +this ship. These cosmic degenerates +had somehow gotten hold of it and +were on a mad binge through the +universe, destroying all the worlds +they didn't like.</p> + +<p>He wondered how many they'd +already wiped out. They had to be +stopped.</p> + +<p>Wayne immediately started constructing +a radio transmitter from +convenient materials in the laboratory. +It was fairly simple.</p> + +<p>He was not interrupted for nearly +two hours. At which time he was +saying into his improvised microphone:</p> + +<p>"Seven hours? That long? Can't +make it any sooner than that? Five +hours? Six?"</p> + +<p>And then it was not a Cirissin +voice behind him which said: +"Drop that. Put up your hands and +turn around!"</p> + +<p>It was Sheilah.</p> + +<p>Wayne turned and saw her floating +at the doorway pointing a long, +tubular metal object at him, her +finger poised on a protruding lever.</p> + +<p>"What's that?" Wayne asked.</p> + +<p>Sheilah said, "It's a gun I found +after lookin' all over the damn ship. +I'm going to kill you. And then I'm +going to kill your Cirissin friends. +You're nothing but a dirty traitor, +and I wouldn't seduce you if—I +never did trust you scientists. Maybe +I'll be killed, too, but I don't +care." She was close to tears.</p> + +<p>"You're going to kill me?" +Wayne said. "With that? How do +you know it's even a gun? Looks +more like a fire extinguisher to me. +Aw, you poor little imbecile, I +haven't had a chance to explain yet, +but—"</p> + +<p>Sheilah said, "You make me +sick." She pulled the trigger.</p> + +<p>The object was not a fire extinguisher, +after all. It was quite +obviously a weapon of some kind.</p> + +<p>Also it seemed obvious that +Sheilah had been pointing the +wrong end of the weapon toward +Wayne.</p> + +<p>One more obvious fact that +Wayne had time to comprehend +was that the weapon was not a recoilless +type.</p> + +<p>But by then Sheilah had gone +limp and the gun had rebounded +from her grasp and was sailing at +Wayne's head.</p> + +<p>He ducked but not fast enough. +The object whacked him solidly +on top of his head.</p> + +<p>His brain exploded into a display +of dazzling lights, excruciating +pain and deafening noise.</p> + +<p>Then the lights went out and a +long, dense silence set in.</p> + +<p>When Wayne fought through the +layers of renewed pain and opened +his eyes, he was still floating near +his makeshift radio equipment in +the laboratory.</p> + +<p>Sheilah still hung limply in mid-air +near the door. The tubular +weapon wavered near the ceiling. +The radio transmitter was still +open.</p> + +<p>It was just as though he'd been +unconscious no more than a few +minutes. But Wayne had a strong +feeling that it had been more than +that.</p> + +<p>Therefore he was only shocked, +rather than stunned, when a glance +at his wristwatch indicated six +hours and forty minutes had +elapsed.</p> + +<p>He held his head tightly in both +hands to keep it from flying off in +all directions at once, and he tried +to think.</p> + +<p>He knew it was important to +think—fast and straight.</p> + +<p>Six hours and forty minutes.</p> + +<p>That was too long to be unconscious +from a simple blow on the +head, and his head didn't really +hurt that bad.</p> + +<p>Probably the weapon had still +been firing whatever mysterious +ammunition it used when it struck +him; and when it bounced off his +head it had turned, and he'd been +caught in its blast.</p> + +<p>But that didn't matter. That +wasn't the important thing.</p> + +<p>Six hours and forty minutes he'd +been out.</p> + +<p>Seven hours!</p> + +<p>The Defense Department official +he'd spoken to had told him seven +hours.</p> + +<p>And thank God it wasn't five +hours or six, as he'd been urging +them to make it.</p> + +<p>Anyway he had only twenty minutes +now. Possibly a little more, but +just as likely less.</p> + +<p>That realization should have +spurred him to instantaneous and +heroic action, but instead it paralyzed +him for several minutes. He +couldn't think what to do. He +couldn't get his muscles and nerves +functioning and coordinated.</p> + +<p>The absence of gravity didn't +help. He thrashed about futilely.</p> + +<p>But at last, almost by accident, +his feet touched a metal support +beam, and he pushed himself toward +Sheilah. He grabbed her +around the waist with one arm and +with his free hand pulled both of +them through the door.</p> + +<p>It seemed a long, long time before +he got Sheilah to the reconnaissance +ship. By then the twenty +minutes were up. His life was going +into overtime.</p> + +<p>Sheilah was conscious but still +disorganized and limp, struggling +weakly and ineffectually. Wayne +fumbled with the door, got it open +and shoved her inside.</p> + +<p>Then he pulled himself in and +closed the door.</p> + +<p>They might make it yet. They +still had a chance.</p> + +<p>He studied the control board, deciding +on the proper button to push.</p> + +<p>From behind him Sheilah +screamed, "The bomb! You've got +the bomb and you're going to—Well, +you're not!"</p> + +<p>Her body slammed against his +shoulders and her arms encircled +his neck. Her fingers clawed at his +eyes.</p> + +<p>Wayne struggled, not to free himself, +but only to get one hand loose, +to reach the control board. When +he did get a hand free, they had +floated too far from the controls.</p> + +<p>"Stop it, you stupid bitch!" +Wayne snarled. "You're going to +kill us both!"</p> + +<p>Wayne said, "Listen, there's a +guided missile from earth heading +straight for this ship, and it has a +hydrogen bomb warhead. It'll get +here any minute now and when +it—"</p> + +<p>His words were broken off by the +tremendous roar and concussion of +the hydrogen bomb.</p> + +<p>Wayne's last thought before oblivion +swallowed him was that they +wouldn't have had time to escape, +anyway.</p> + +<p>But that wasn't the end. Wayne +woke up enough to refuse to believe +he was alive, and O'Reilly was +somewhere near, telling him:</p> + +<p>"Cirissins full of grate your forts. +Radio eggulant blan. Thankel +normous. Rid of earth now. Blasted +away. Givish <i>good</i> high dragon +bump. Yukon gome now."</p> + +<p>Wayne groaned. The meaning of +O'Reilly's words was trying to get +through to his brain, and he was +trying desperately to keep the +meaning out.</p> + +<p>O'Reilly's voice receded into a +thick gray fog. "Keep shib. Shores. +Presirent felpings. Gluck."</p> + +<p>Metal slammed against metal. +Wayne slammed against something +hard. And darkness closed in once +again.</p> + +<p>But this time it wasn't so smothering +and didn't last nearly so long.</p> + +<p>When he opened his eyes his head +was clear. He wasn't floating. He +was lying on something hard—a +floor surface of the Cirissin landing +ship. He didn't ache anywhere.</p> + +<p>All in all he felt pretty good.</p> + +<p>For the first few seconds.</p> + +<p>Then he started remembering +things, and he wished he hadn't +bothered to wake up.</p> + +<p>Sheilah was standing by the control +panel, her back to him. She +blocked the view screen, but Wayne +didn't want to see it anyway. He +wasn't even curious.</p> + +<p>Sheilah turned, saw him, smiled +broadly.</p> + +<p>She said, "Gee, mister, I guess +you're a hero. I dunno how you +done it, but you made 'em go away, +and you made 'em turn us loose." +Wayne could detect no mockery or +bitterness in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Aw, shut up," he growled.</p> + +<p>"You still mad at me cause of +what I done? Well, gee, I'm sorry. +I didn't get whatcha were up to. I +guess I still don't, but ... Oh, hell, +let's don't fight about it. It don't +matter now, does it?"</p> + +<p>Wayne shook his head wearily. +"No," he agreed. "It doesn't matter +now."</p> + +<p>Sheilah moved away from the +control board and came toward +him. In her filmy, transparent costume, +she was the quintessence of +womanly allure.</p> + +<p>Wayne gasped and stared, but +not at her.</p> + +<p>The view screen had become visible +when she'd moved.</p> + +<p>It showed earth.</p> + +<p>Or a curved, cloud-veiled slice +of earth. Intact, serene and growing +steadily larger.</p> + +<p>"What the hell! Why, I thought ..." +Wayne jumped to his feet, +brushed past Sheilah and peered +more closely at the view plate. +There was no mistaking it. Earth.</p> + +<p>"What's a matter with you, +mister?" Sheilah asked.</p> + +<p>Wayne felt dizzy. O'Reilly had +said, "Earth blasted away," hadn't +he? And the H-bomb hadn't destroyed +the Cirissin ship. Therefore ... +Well, therefore what?</p> + +<p>In the first place what O'Reilly +had actually said was, "Rid of +earth now. Blasted away." It wasn't +quite the same as ...</p> + +<p>O'Reilly had never said anything +about <i>destroying</i> earth.</p> + +<p>Quite a sizeable re-evaluation +project was taking place in Wayne's +mind. It took several minutes for +all the pieces to fall into their proper +places. But once he was willing +to realize that the Cirissins had +known what they were doing, everything +seemed obvious.</p> + +<p>"Oh, good Gawd!" he muttered. +"What utter idiots!"</p> + +<p>"The Cirissins?" Sheilah asked.</p> + +<p>"No, I mean us. Me. Good Lord, +just because O'Reilly's English +wasn't perfect! What did I expect +for only three weeks? Hummm. +The atomic structure of the entire +ship must be uniformly charged to ... +Damn! High dragon bump!"</p> + +<p>"I don't getcha," Sheilah said. +"What's with this high dragon +bump business? I thought they +wanted a hydrogen bomb to destroy +earth, and I thought you'd +agreed to help 'em, and so I +thought ..."</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind," Wayne said. +"I know what you thought, and you +weren't any more stupid than I +was. We were both wrong.</p> + +<p>"Look, the Cirissins must have +been stalled—out of gas, sort of. +Something had gone wrong with +their nuclear drive units. They had +some emergency fuel, but they +didn't want to use it. Like having +a can of kerosene in the car when +the tank runs dry, I suppose. It will +work, but it messes up the engine. +You understand so far?"</p> + +<p>"Sure."</p> + +<p>"Okay then. They happened to +be close to earth, so they went into +an orbit around it and studied it +for a while on radio and TV bands, +and realized they might be able to +get help without using their emergency +fuel—uranium, incidentally, +not kerosene.</p> + +<p>"So they grabbed us. Me, I suppose +because they'd seen my TV +science program. They must have +gotten the idea from some stupid +spy show that scientists have to be +seduced into revealing information. +That's why they picked up you."</p> + +<p>Sheilah interrupted, "But what +did they <i>want</i>? I thought ..."</p> + +<p>Patiently, Wayne said, "Just +what they said. A high dragon +bump. A <i>bump</i>, not a bomb. A +boost, a push. Not to blast away +earth, but to blast away <i>from</i> earth. +That's all."</p> + +<p class="rgt"><b>END</b></p> + +<div class="trn"><div class="figt"> +<a href="images/002-2.jpg"><img src="images/002-1.jpg" width="140" height="200" alt="" title="" /></a></div> + +<p><big><b>Transcriber's Note:</b></big></p> + +<p>This etext was produced from <i>If Worlds of Science Fiction</i> June 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.</p></div> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30330 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30330-h/images/001.png b/30330-h/images/001.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..006c892 --- /dev/null +++ b/30330-h/images/001.png diff --git a/30330-h/images/002-1.jpg b/30330-h/images/002-1.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5025e1a --- /dev/null +++ b/30330-h/images/002-1.jpg diff --git a/30330-h/images/002-2.jpg b/30330-h/images/002-2.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8d175f7 --- /dev/null +++ b/30330-h/images/002-2.jpg |
