[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
attention, and looking up, he saw the word
EXIT
printed in letters of fire at the top of the compartment.
With a smile he stepped in. A soft light was turned on and he found himself in
a tiny cubbyhole with just room for the single seat it provided and on which
he seated himself. There was no window.
The machine carried him along smoothly for perhaps five minutes, stopped and
the door opened before him. He issued into another blue-domed hall a small one
this time, containing a rubber seat like that in his cell but with an extended
arm on which rested a complex apparatus of some kind. The seat faced a white
Page 52
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
screen like those in movie theaters.
He seated himself and at once a series of words appeared in dark green on the
screen.
Dominance was not complete, it read.
Communication?
Then below, in smaller type, as though it were the body of a newspaper column.
Lassans service man. Flier writing information through communication
excellent. Dinner, bed, book. No smoking. Yours very truly.
As he gazed in astonishment at this cryptic collection of words it was erased
and its place was taken by a picture which he recognized as a likeness of
himself in his present metallic state. A talking picture, which made a few
remarks in the same incomprehensible gibberish the ape-man had used, then sat
down in a chair like that in which he now rested and proceeded to write on the
widespread arm with a stylus which was attached to it. The screen went blank.
Evidently he was supposed to communicate something by writing.
The stylus was a metal pencil and the material of the arm, though not
apparently metallic, must be, he argued from the fact that it seemed to have
electric connections attached. As he examined it, the blue lights flickered at
him impatiently.
The white knight, he wrote in a fit of impish perversity, is climbing up the
poker.
Instantly the words flashed on the screen.
Pause.
IS CLIMBING
declared the screen, in capitals. Then below it appeared a fairly creditable
picture of a knight in armor followed by a not very creditable picture of a
poker. Sherman began to comprehend. Whoever it was behind this business had
managed a correspondence course of a sort in
English but had failed to learn the verbs and he was being asked to explain.
For answer he produced a crude drawing of a monkey climbing a stick and
demonstrated the action by getting up and going through the motions of
climbing. Immediately the screen flashed a picture of the knight in armor
ascending the poker by the same means.
But it had hardly appeared before it was wiped out to be replaced by a
flickering of blue lights and an angry buzz. His interlocutor had seen the
absurdity of the sentence and was demanding a more serious approach to the
problem. For answer Sherman wrote, Where am I and who are you?
A LONGER pause.
Dominance not complete, said the screen. Then came the picture of the first
page of a child's ABC book with, A
was an Archer who shot at a frog, below the usual childish picture. Then came
the word think.
With the best will in the world Sherman was puzzled to illustrate this idea
but by tapping his forehead and drawing a crude diagram of the brain as he
remembered it from books, he managed to give some satisfaction.
The process went on for three or four hours as nearly as Sherman could judge
the time, ending with a flash of the word
Exit in red from the screen and a dimming of the blue-dome light. He turned
toward the door and found the car that had brought him, ready for the return
journey.
As it rumbled back to his cell he ruminated on the fact that none of the men,
or whatever they were behind this place had yet made themselves visible. It
was incredible that beings of the type of the metallic
ape-man who occupied the next cell to his should have intelligence enough to
operate such obviously highly-developed machinery.
But what next? He pondered the, question as the car deposited him in his cell.
Obviously he was being kept a prisoner. He didn't like it, however comfortable
the imprisonment.
Page 53
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
The first thing that suggested itself was a closer inspection of his cell. The
lectern yielded an oil-ball like that the ape-man had given him and another
similar device containing grease. There were various tools of uncertain
purpose and in the last drawer he examined a complete duplicate set of wrist
and finger joints.
The larger cupboard had deep drawers, mostly empty, though one of them
contained a number of books, apparently selected at random from a good-sized
library
Mystery of Oldmixon Hall, Report
of the Smithsonian Institution, 1903, The Poems of Jerusha G. White
a depressing collection.
This seemed to exhaust the possibilities of the cell and Sherman looked about
for further amusement.
His ape neighbor had pressed himself close to the bars on that side,
indicating his interest in what
Sherman was doing by chuckling bubbles of amusement.
Further down the line one of the ape-men was holding the pair of handles that
projected from the wall beside his cabinet. Sherman grasped his also. There
was a pleasant little electric shock and in the center of the wall before him
a slide moved back to disclose a circle of melting light that changed color
and form in pleasing variations.
The sensation was enormously invigorating and it struck the aviator with
surprise that this must be the way these creatures "These creatures!' he
thought, "I'm one of them" the way these creatures acquired nourishment. The
thought gave him an inspiration.
"Hey!"
he called in a voice loud enough to carry throughout the room. "Is there
anyone here that can
understand what I'm saying?"
There was a clank of metal as faces turned in his direction all down the line
of cages.
"Yes, I guess so," called a voice from about thirty feet away. "What do you
want to say?"
Sherman felt an overwhelming sense of relief. He would not have believed it,
possible to be so delighted with a human voice. "Who's got us here and why are
they keeping us here?" he shouted back.
A moment's silence. Then: "Near's I can make out it's a passel of elephants
and they've got us here to
work."
"What?"
Sherman shouted back, not sure he had heard aright.
"Work!" came the answer. "Make you punch the holes on these goddam light
machines. It wears your fingers off and you have to screw new ones in at
night."
"No, I mean about the elephants."
"That's what I said elephants. They wear pants and they're right smart too."
Insoluble mystery. "Who are you?" called the aviator.
"Mellen, Harve Mellen. I had a farm right here where they set up this opry
house of theirs."
Along the edge of Sherman's cell a blue light began to blink. He had an
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]