Star Science Fiction 6 [Anthology]

213 Pages·2016·0.77 MB·English

by  Pohl Frederik

Star Science Fiction 6

Edited By Frederik Pohl Proofed By MadMaxAU

Contents
Danger! Child at Large, C. L. Cottrell Twin’s Wail , Elizabeth Mann Borgese
The Holy Grail , Tom Purdom Angerhelm , Cordwainer Smith The Dreamsman ,
Gordon R. Dickson To Catch an Alien, John J. McGuire Press Conference ,
Miriam Allen deFord Invasion from Inner Space , Howard Koch
C. L Cottrell is a career Army officer at present manning the
perimeter in Korea—a place which even the Koreans find
moderately unattractive, and one where he works under
conditions hardly conducive to writing science fiction. Or
anything else. All the more marvel, then, that from the rocks of
the Korean mountains and the duckboards-and-drillfields of an
Army base he should have drawn Inspiration to write a moving
and sympathetic story of a little girl, eternally lost, in-

DANGER! CHILD AT LARGE

by C. L. Cottrell

I

Jill stood back in the shadows as the cars sped swiftly by. She
could hear the sound of sirens in the distance between the noise
of the cars that zipped by on the road. Each car had lots of
people in it, and the cars seemed to be in an awful hurry. She
wondered for just a moment where they all were going.

It was almost nighttime and Jill was getting tired and
hungry. She had played and explored in and around the woods,
and the game no longer interested her. She knew the road led
to a town ahead, for she had heard Dr. Prann speak of it many
times. She thought that she remembered having been there
once, too. And there she would find people and food and sleep.
Besides, it was no longer any fun to be away from the school.
She felt somehow that she ought to go back, but she wasn’t
quite sure which way to go. Right now she thought it might be
better if she got to the town and got something to eat.
She started to walk along the edge of the highway facing
the traffic. It was still coming, only there were not so many cars
now. And the policemen on the noisy motorcycles did not come
along so very often. Lots of the cars and trucks were stopped
along the road as if they were waiting for something. She
walked suspiciously off the edge of the road in the shelter of the
trees, occasionally cocking an eye at the sun to see if it had
gone below the trees yet. It was almost down. She did not want
the people along the road to see her or speak to her. Not now,
anyway.

It was fun walking under the trees, thought Jill. Only it was
slow. And it was getting darker. She didn’t like the dark. Above
the trees it was lighter.

She floated to a level just above the trees, until she came
to the edge of the town. She halted, silent, easing back into the
branches of a large tree, the air like a pillow under her feet.
There were lots of trucks on the road ahead. And they were not
moving. Lots of men and women and children were close to
them. And there were other men standing silently in little
groups. Some were spread out in a kind of loose chain. And all
of them had guns.

Jill was afraid of guns. They made loud noises, and could
hurt you. She wanted to go into the town and get something to
eat, but she was afraid of the men with the guns. And there was
no way to go into the town without the men seeing her, and she
just had to get into town. There was no way except . . . except . .
.

... so she got into town.

Jill was thrilled by all the lights in the town. She had never
before seen such a variety of colors and flashing lights. It was
awfully quiet, though. She seemed to sense, rather than
consciously realize, the absence of the normal noises of a
community. She walked along the street and looked for people.
But there didn’t seem to be anyone at all. She saw a dog and
ran toward it, but it slunk away out of sight, suspicious and
afraid. Turning her head, she caught sight of a store window and
squealed with delight, her moment of loneliness vanishing in her
new discovery. Dolls! And toys! Just look at them!

She pressed her face to the window and stared at them
longingly, feasting her eyes on the biggest and most beautiful
doll she had ever seen. Suddenly she wanted that doll. She was
going to get it.

Jill went to the door and tried the latch. It must be stuck,
she thought, as she clenched her little fist around it. She
squeezed the handle hard, but it would not give under the
pressure of her grip. She went away from the door, disappointed
and almost in tears. Once again she looked at the doll in the
window and a little wave of anger swept in on her. She was
going to have that doll!

She tried the door again, gave it a wrench with her hand,
and thought it had better come open, or...

The door jerked open and almost jerked her inside with it.
She quickly ran inside and stopped short. Oh! Oh! There were so
many toys! Even guns, like the men on the outside had. And
teddy bears and games, and— everything.

She walked among them in wonder, her hunger and
sleepiness completely forgotten in this wonderful discovery. She
hugged one of the teddy bears to her; it squeaked, and she
laughed. Then she climbed into a little red wagon, and made it
go fast down the lane between the toys until it bumped into a
rocking horse and upset it. She flung a toy airplane in the air,
where it soared to the ceiling and down across the glass
counter, sweeping off small stuffed animals with its wing.
“I can fly, too,” she cried, “onlybetter.“

Jill began to feel the hunger again and she thought she
better go to one of the stores where there are things to eat, and
she would eat.

She left the store with three dolls under her arms,
forgetting the big beautiful doll from the window.

Jill walked down the street alone, looking for a store that
had something to eat in it, vaguely wondering why everything
was so quiet and why there were no people. She was a little bit
afraid. She walked on, looking apprehensively around her.

She was only eight years old.

II

Gordon began to get suspicious for the second time after the
little group had pulled up in front of the cordon guard, at the
edge of the town. There was nothing special or noticeable this
time either, except the way the major in charge examined the
passes of each of the men a little too carefully. The major then
said, “Pass on, sir,” to the colonel. The two vehicles proceeded
on into the deserted town. The twilight was beginning to deepen
when the two vehicles stopped just inside the town, across the
bridge. Colonel Battin, in command, got out. He signaled for
everyone else to get out of the two vehicles.

When everyone was gathered in front of him, he said:
“Lieutenant Jory and his two men will take the truck and trailer
to where the bomb was dropped.” Addressing the lieutenant he
said, “Load it carefully on the trailer and get it out of the town
as fast as possible. I’ll take the command car and cruise around
town. There might be some looters that we haven’t heard. Don’t
wait for me. As soon as you have the bomb on the trailer, head
directly for the desert. You know what you have to do there. And
take it easy. You’ll have a dangerous bundle behind you. And
remember, don’t give the cordon commander permission to let
anyone into town until you hear from me personally! Keep your
radio receiver on at all times. And if you see or hear anything
unusual, let me know immediately.” The colonel looked at
Gordon. “Mr. Gordon, you will accompany Lieutenant Jory.” And
back at the group: “That’s all.”

And that was the third suspicious event. Gordon wondered
why the colonel was going to search the town for possible
looters instead of letting a subordinate do a job like that. Why
also should he take two civilian “experts” with him and only two
airmen, neither of them an air police? And further, just really
who were the two men, Prann and Forbes? He made a mental
note to look up their professional backgrounds as soon as he got
back.

Gordon hopped in the truck in the back alongside a
corporal. The corporal grinned at him, offered a cigarette, and
said, “Expert?”

Gordon declined the smoke. “Not on dropped bombs. Nor
on anything else for that matter, I guess,” he replied.

“Do I get two more guesses?” the corporal asked.

“I don’t like mysteries either,” said Gordon. “I’m a
newsman.”

“The colonel didn’t seem too happy about having you
along.”

“I noticed that too. Another mystery.”
“Considering how relatively unimportant this job is, I guess
it is.”

Gordon said, “Unimportant? Do you consider removing a
radioactive dust bomb unimportant?”

“I said relatively unimportant.” The corporal threw his
partly smoked butt in the street after mashing it out on file sole
of his shoe. “It’s a bit out of the ordinary for a full colonel who is
the commanding officer to do a job like this. I was kind of
wondering why. At first I thought maybe he wanted the personal
publicity. But after seeing how he treated you, it can’t be that.”

The colonel had been openly hostile to Gordon. He had said
to Gordon after the latter had presented the press pass issued
to him personally by the governor, expressly to cover the story,
“You’re not welcome, Mr. Gordon. I want you to know that from
the start. You will take orders from me directly, and any violation
of my orders on your part will be dealt with by the federal
government—state governor be damned!”

It had been emphatic enough for Gordon. But he couldn’t
see that the assignment was important enough for him to want
to violate any orders. And suspicious act number one had come
after he had said to the colonel, “In a matter of as little
importance as this, Colonel?” And the colonel had glared at him,
shoved his cigar in his mouth and walked away.

Was it, Gordon had wondered, really a matter of little
importance? A delayed-action bomb containing a short half-life
radioactive dust had been dropped accidentally on the town. In
a matter of six hours the town had been completely evacuated,
and a National Guard cordon had been stretched around the
perimeter of the town to prevent the return of people
prematurely, and to prevent possible looting—if someone was
crazy enough to want to loot a town that was likely to have
radioactive dust blown over it at any time. Besides, the bomb
had been dropped in the afternoon and the Air Forces had
promised to have it out by midnight.

True, it could be a touchy matter for the military. They were
responsible for the bomb dropping on the town; they must
suffer the embarrassment of the incident. Maybe the colonel
was on edge because the plane that had dropped the bomb had
been from a squadron he commanded. The publicity wouldn’t do
his command much good.

The truck sped on up the street, around corners, and past
all traffic lights regardless of color. There was no other traffic.
There were very few cars or other vehicles in town. Occasionally
here and there one would be parked with a flat tire, or standing
with the hood open, or with a door open as an owner had
abandoned it for surer and faster methods of transportation out
of the town.

But outside the town, the cars, buses and trucks were lined
up along the road by the hundreds. People were waiting
impatiently for the Air Force to remove the cause of their
discomfort and inconvenience. Dogs and cats were chasing
noisily around the vehicles, adding to the confusion.
Occasionally a child could be seen squatting behind a car while
embarrassed parents stood by. An icecream truck stood near
with the driver looking longingly at the crowds, then back at his
empty truck. A peanut vendor was selling his last bag of
peanuts, and a bakery truck driver was counting his money,
whistling. Not all were unhappy.

The truck pulled up to the intersection of two streets and
stopped. Gordon looked out and saw the bomb. It lay half in the
entrance of a filling station. The oversized parachute, still
attached, fluttered feebly in the breeze. He saw a guard
surreptitiously reach out with one foot and step on a still
smoking butt. The lieutenant chose to overlook the infraction of
regulations. “Relax, Sergeant. We’ve come to remove your
charge,” he said to the guard.

The sergeant saluted, grinned, and said, “Kinda lonesome
here in the city, Lieutenant. Never knew a city could be so
dead.”

“Put your rifle in the truck, Sergeant, and give us a hand.”

The lieutenant and the sergeant uncoupled the trailer from
the truck while the corporal swung the winch in position. Gordon
stepped up to help but the officer motioned him away. He stood
idly watching while the corporal backed the truck into position
and lowered the chain hoist to a point just above the bomb.
Then he fastened heavy straps around the body of the bomb, in
front and in back, and lowered the hook until it could be slid
under the chain connecting the straps. In the meantime the
officer and the sergeant had moved the bomb carrier in a
position so that the hoist could be raised and the bomb swung
around and lowered carefully onto the carrier. While the
sergeant and the corporal guided the bomb onto its cradle, the
lieutenant operated the hoist by hand. When the bomb finally
rested in its cradle, the corporal fastened it with other straps to
the floating bed of the trailer. The sergeant rolled the flapping
parachute into as compact a ball as he could, stuffed it in a
canvas bag and threw the bag in the back of the truck. The
officer then swung the truck around until the hitch of the carrier
and the hinge on the truck were properly lined up. Then the
corporal dropped in the pin and fastened the safety chain in
place. The entire operation hadn’t taken longer than twenty
minutes.

When everything was secure, the lieutenant motioned to
Gordon to get in the truck. When Gordon was seated, the officer
said, “I don’t know what all the fuss was about. The bomb
wasn’t armed.”

“And that hokum they gave us,” said the corporal, “about