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confines of the small ship were such that she was unable to exercise, and before long resentment had
given way to claustrophobia. She wished that Mr. Ahasuerus had programmed the robot pilot to play
cards or checkers, or at least to talk, though she couldn't imagine what she would have to talk about with
a machine.
Finally, 117 hours into the voyage, the robot applied the braking mechanism, and as the universe once
more became intelligible on the ship's viewing screen, she saw a large red star looming off in the distance,
above her and to the right. They were approaching it so rapidly she was sure they would plunge right into
it, but after another hour had passed she realized that they were going to slingshot around it. The robot
chose an orbit almost two hundred million miles out from the star, and then she saw her destination: a
brown planet, partially hidden from view by thick gray cloud cover. Again she had the feeling that the
ship was moving too rapidly to avoid a disaster, and again she breathed a sigh of relief when it snapped
around the planet as it had done with the star, and began orbiting it at a height of almost three hundred
miles.
The orbit was rapid and eccentric, and she guessed that the ship's somewhat limited sensing devices were
trying to find Carp's ship. It seemed an impossible task to her, but after
seven orbits a number of lights began blinking on and off and the ship started descending.
She decided she would be happier if she didn't watch the ground come up to meet her, so she leaned
back in her seat and closed her eyes until she felt the very gentle jarring sensation of touchdown and
heard a number of the ship's systems begin clicking off.
Only then did she look at the viewscrBen again, and what she saw filled her with dismay. How could
Fast Johnny have chosen to stay on a world that looked like watery chocolate pudding and how, given
the size of that world, was she ever supposed to find him?
One of the ship's computer screens began flashing an atmospheric readout, hut she paid no attention to it.
The planet's oxygen-nitrogen content held no interest for her, and besides, Mr. Ahasuerus had already
warned her that continued exposure to the air anything over fifteen minutes would prove hazardous.
She had hoped to get away with just wearing a breathing mask, but then she noticed on another screen
that the temperature was 16° centigrade. She didn't know what that translated into as Fahrenheit, but she
decided to wear an entire spacesuit just to be on the safe side.
She pressed the button Flint had pointed out to her, and the ship produced a burst of high-pitched
whistles, intended to be loud enough to draw the attention of any nearby natives. (He had explained, as
gently as he could, that he didn't trust her to read a compass and didn't want her straying out of sight of
the ship, and she had instantly agreed with no trace of embarrassment or humiliation.)
She pushed another button and the ship began sending out short-wave radio signals as well. Then, having
nothing further to do, she watched the viewing screen and waited. She had a sinking feeling that it would
take days before any inhabitants of the planet found the ship, but to her surprise she saw three enormous
gray slugs slither into view within twenty minutes. She immediately donned her spacesuit, hooked up her
translating devices one for sending, one for receiving and went out to meet them. (They had used
only one device a sender at the carnival, but that was because Flint didn't
137
much care what the marks said as long as they spent their money.)
"Hello," she said uneasily. "Can one of you tell me where I might find John Edward Carp?"
The three slugs responded with shrill hooting noises, and she realized that she had not activated the
translating devices. She did so now, and repeated her question.
"One of us can," replied the nearest of the slugs.
Perhaps it was the way the translator worded the sentence, perhaps not. Certainly there was nothing
human in the tone of the voice, nor any trace of humanity in the slug's body . . . but somehow she knew.
"Johnny?" she said hesitantly. "Is that you?"
"Hi, Gloria," replied the slug. "How's tricks?"
"My God what have they done to you?"
Carp turned to his two companions. "You can leave us now," he said. "I'll be all right." He wriggled
around and faced Gloria again, as the other two slugs crawled off into the slime and ooze of the planet's
surface. "I figured Thaddeus would send someone after me before too much longer. That's why I've been
hanging around the ship. / can tell the Hods apart, but I imagine we must all look alike to you."
"They're called Hods?"
"Yes. So am I, these days."
"I hardly know what to say," began Gloria. "They told me what you had become, but being told is one
thing and seeing it with my own eyes is another."
"I wouldn't know about that," said Carp, wriggling closer. "I don't have eyes anymore."
"Oh!" said Gloria, startled. "I hadn't noticed."
"Don't let it upset you. There are compensations. I assume you're here for the ship?"
She nodded. "And for you."
"Good old Thaddeus!" said Carp, and from the way his body undulated she was sure he was laughing.
"I'll bet he thinks he's going to hold me to my contract!"
"Johnny," said Gloria, "I know it's you, but would you stop coming so near to me? It makes me nervous."
"Anything you say," said Carp. "Well, give me your
sales pitch, get it over with, and then take the goddamned ship and go."
"You really don't want to come back?" she asked unbelievingly.
"To what? A five-and-dime carnival? I spent enough time looking at hicks and freaks. Now I've joined
them."
"But why?"
Carp's entire body shivered as he emitted a long, hooting sigh. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"What the hell," said Carp. "You're probably the last human I've ever going to see, so why not? By the
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