Stories by R. A. Lafferty Vol 1 Part 21

"Replacement?" roared the livid Cotrel. "He's got to get mad! There isn't any replacement." And he continued to strike Gnevni.

"I believe that the director has you in mind, Cotrel," said over-doctor Ratracer. "Yes. I am sure of it."

"Me? I am under-doctor Cotrel! I make five hundred Guzman d'or a month!"

"And now you will make five," said Director Duggle. "Grinding poverty is a concomitant of your new job. I had suspected you had a talent for it. Now I am sure. You begin immediately. You become the latest, and soon I hope the best, of the Very Angry Men."

Cotrel became so, and immediately. Gnevni had been good. Wut before him had been one of the best. But for carrying-on noise and stink generally, there was never such an exhibition as Mad Man Cotrel now put on -- getting into the spirit of his new job -- he was the maddest man you ever saw!

THE MAN WITH THE SPECKLED EYES.

In those days there had been a clique of six men who controlled it all. Any new thing went to one of them -- or it went nowhere. Discovery and invention cannot be allowed to break out all over the lot.

These six men did not work in particular harmony. They were called the clique because they were set apart from others by their influence; andbecause of their names, which were: Claridge, Lone, Immermann, Quinn, Umholtz, and Easter.

Now the six men were reduced to two. On successive days, Claridge, Lone, Immermann, and Quinn had disappeared -- and they had done it pretty thoroughly. In each case, somebody had to know something about their disappearance; and in each case, that somebody refused to tell.

Claridge's man, Gueranger, had been with Claridge at the time of the disappeantnce or shortly before. He admitted that much. But nothing intelligent could be got from him.

"The truth of it is that I don't know the truth of it," Gueranger insisted. "Yes, I was there, but I don't know what happened."

"Don't you know what you saw?" asked the investigator.

"No, I don't. That's the whole point of the matter: I will not accept, and will not tell, what I saw. Certainly I know that I'm held on suspicion of murder. But where is the body? You find it - anywhere -- in any shape and I'll sure sleep better."

In the second ease, Ringer and Mayhall both seemed to know something of the disappearance of their employer, Lone. The three of them had walked in the plaza at evening. Only two of them had come back -- and they much shaken.

"I know what I seemed to see," Ringer ventured, "and I will not tell it. I'm not stubborn and I'm not sensitive to laughter, but I've sealed the whole thing off in a corner of my mind and I won't disturb it. I've hopes of hanging on to some pieces of my reason, and to open this again would set me back."

"Loric?" Mayhall grunted. "I guess the d.a.m.ned fool swallowed himself. He's sure gone completely. Yes, I was with him, and I won't say any nearer than that what happened."

"I simply will not explain," said Immermann's advisor, Hebert. "He is gone, and I do not believe he will be back. No. If it was a hoax, I wasn't in on it, and I don't understand it. Do I believe that he wished to disappear for a private reason? Did he -- wherever he has gone -- go willingly? No, gentlemen, he did not go willingly! I never saw a man so reluctant to go."

"I will not say what happened to Mr. Quinn," said Pacheco, Quinn's a.s.sistant. "Of course I know that he was an important man -- the most important in the world to me. You say that you will have answers out of me one way or the other? Then you'll have nothing but babbling out of a crazy man.

"Why, yes, I suppose that you can hang me for murder. I don't know how those things are worked. It seems extreme, however. I thought there was a Latin phrase involved, about a body being required. Lay off now, fellows.

I'm cracking up, I tell you."

The investigators didn't lay off, but so far they had got nothing out of any of the witnesses. The four disappearances had to be as one, and the witnesses were certainly of a pattern.

"Are Extraterrestrials Kidnapping Our Top Talent?" the news banners read.

"Oh, h.e.l.l," said Umholtz in his cluttered office. "h.e.l.l," said Easter in his clean one. They both knew that they were not men of any particular talent, and that the four men who had disappeared were not. They were shufflers and dealers in talent, that is all. In popular idea, they were responsible for the inventions they marketed. But off-Earth people -- bent on such showy kidnappings -- would have picked off seminal geniuses and not talent brokers.

Four gone, two to go. Would the next one be Umholtz or Easter?

Umholtz felt that it would be himself. He and his a.s.sistant, Planter, were worrying about it together when Shartel the aide came in to them."There's one to see you, Mr. Umholtz," said Shartel with diffidence, for he was only half the bulk of his employer.

"An inventor?" Umholtz always sneered with his eyebrows when he spoke that word, although inventors were the only stock he dealt in.

"Who else comes to see us, Mr. Umholtz? This one may be worth investigating, though probably not for any invention he has."

"A crackie? What does he have?"

"A crackie from end to end, and he won't say what he has."

"We're not scanning clients these days, Shartel. I explain that to you every ten minutes. We're spending all our time worrying about the disappearances. Creative worry, Planter here calls it, and I don't appreciate his humor. I haven't time for a crackie today."

"He got to see Claridge, Lone, Immermann, and Quinn -- all a couple of hours before their disappearance."

"All inventors make the same rounds. There's n.o.body else they can go to. And weren't there a couple of others who saw them all?"

"The others have all been checked out clean. This is the last one.

The authorities have been looking for him and have left word to call if he showed. I'll ring them as soon as he's in here. There's a slim chance that he knows something, but he sure doesn't look it."

"Send him in, Shartel. Has he a name?"

"Hayc.o.c.k. And he looks as though he had slept in one."

Hayc.o.c.k didn't really have hay in his hair -- that was only the color and lay of it. He had blue eyes with happy, dangerous gold specks in them, and a friendly and humorous sneer. He looked rather an impudent comedian, but inventors come in all sizes. He had something of the back-country hayseed in him. But also something of the panther.

"I have here what may turn out to be a most useful device," Hayc.o.c.k began. "Good. You have sent the underlings away. I never talk in their presence. They're inclined to laugh at me. I am offering you the opportunity to get in on the top floor with my device, Mr. Umholtz."

"Hayc.o.c.k, you have the aspect of a man entranced by one of the four basic fallacies. If so, you are wasting my time. But I want to question you on a side issue. Is it true that you visited all four of them -- Claridge, Lone, Immermano, and Quinn -- on the days of their disappearances?"

"Sounds like their names. Four blind bats! None of them could see my invention at first. All of them laughed at it. Forget those fools, Umholtz.

You can grow new fools, but what I have here is unique. It is the impossible invention."

"By the impossible inventor, from the looks of you. I hold up four fingers, and one is it. Tell it in one word, Hayc.o.c.k!"

"Anti-grav."

"Fourth finger. It's not even the season for anti-grav, Hayc.o.c.k.

These things go in cycles. We get most of the anti-gravs in early winter.

All right, I give you four seconds to demonstrate. Raise that table off the floor with your device."

"It's barely possible that I could raise it, Umholtz, but not in four seconds. It would take several hours; instant demonstration is out.

It's a pretty erratic piece of machinery, though I've had good luck on my last several attempts. It isn't really very impressive, and a lot of what I tell you you'll have to take on faith."

"Haven't any, Hayc.o.c.k. Even a charlatan can usually put on a good show. Why the two pieces? One looks like a fis.h.i.+ng tackle box, and the other like a sheaf of paper."

"The papers are the mathematics of it, Umholtz. Look at the equations carefully and you'll be convinced without a demonstration."

"All right. I pride myself on the speed I bring to spotting these basic errors, Hayc.o.c.k. They seem very commonplace equations, and then they break off when it's plain that you're getting nowhere. What happened to thebottom of these sheets?"

"Oh, my little boy ate that part of them. Just go ahead and you'll pick up the continuity again. Ah, you're at the end of it and you laugh!

Yes, is it not funny how simple every great truth is?"

"I've seen them all, Hayc.o.c.k, and this is one of the most transparent. The only thing wrong with it is that it won't work and it's as full of holes as a seine."

"But it does work part of the time, Umholtz, and we'll fill up the holes till it's practical. Well, is it a deal? It'll take a couple of years; but if you'll start plenty of money rolling, I'll get on with the project in a big way. Why do you roll your eyes like that, Umholtz? Is there a history of apoplexy in your family?"

"I will be all right in a moment, Hayc.o.c.k. I am afflicted by inventors, but I recover quickly. Let us set the gadget aside for the moment. Do you know where the four now-celebrated men have gone?"

"Papers said it was as if they had disappeared from the Earth. I imagine they sent a reporter or someone to check on it."

"Take Claridge, for instance," said Umholtz, "Did he seem disturbed when you last saw him?"

"I think he was the little one. He was kind of boggle-eyed, just like you were a minute ago. Kind of mad at me for wasting his time. Well pig's pants! I wasted my time, too! Blind as a bat, that man. Don't think he was convinced that my thing would work till maybe right at the end. Now let's get back to my instrument. It will do a variety of jobs. Even you can see where it would be useful."

"It would be, if it worked, and it won't. Your piece of mathematics is childish, Hayc.o.c.k."

"Might be. I don't express myself well in that medium. But my machine does work. It creates negative gravity. That is, it works quite a bit of the time."

Umholtz laughed. He shouldn't have, but he didn't know. And he did have an ugly sort of laugh.

"You laugh at me!" Hayc.o.c.k howled out. Gold fire popped from his eyes and he was very angry. The hayseed began to look like the panther. He touched his machine, and it responded with a sympathetic ping! to the anger of its master.

Umholtz was having fun with the now-blazing inventor.

"What do you do, Hayc.o.c.kandbull, turn that machine on and point it at something?" he guffawed. Umholtz enjoyed deriding a fellow.

"You hopeless hulk! I turned it on a minute ago when you laughed at me. It's working on you now. You'll be convinced in the end," Hayc.o.c.k threatened.

"Do you not know, Hayc.o.c.k, that anti-grav is the standing joke in our profession? But they still come in with it, and they all have that same look in their eyes."

"Umholtz, you lie! n.o.body else ever had this look in his eye!"

That was true. The gold specks in the blue eyes glinted in a mad way. The eyes did not focus properly. It seemed to Umholtz that Hayc.o.c.k did not look at him, but through him and beyond. The man might well he a maniac -- the sort of maniac who could somehow be involved in the four disappearances. Never mind, they were coming for him. They'd be here any minute.

"Anti-grav is a violation of the laws of ma.s.s and energy," Umholtz needled.

"To change the signature of a ma.s.s from plus to minus is not a violation of any law I recognize," said Hayc.o.c.k evenly. "It is no good for you to justify now, Umholtz, or to find excuses. It is no use to plead for your life. Are you deaf as well as blind and stupid? I told you plainly that the demonstration had already begun. You were all a stubborn lot, but I convinced all four of them in the end, and I'll convince you. I tell you,Umholtz, that entrenched stupidity makes me mad, and when I get mad I sure do get mean. I've cancelled you out, you open idiot! Umholtz, I'll send you away screaming!"

"Rather I'll send you away in that act," Umholtz purred, for the men in black were now into the room, and they laid legal hands on Haycoek.

"Take him away," Umholtz grunted out. "He's fis.h.i.+er than Edward's Ichthyology."

Hayc.o.c.k didn't go away screaming, but he went roaring and fighting.

That man was very mean, and those gold specks in his eyes were really sulphur.

Say, they couldn't get a thing out of that fellow. Hayc.o.c.k was an odd one, but that was all. They went over him from the beginning. He was known in his own neighborhood for his unsuccessful inventions and for his towering temper, but he hadn't any bodies lying around, and he hadn't been anywhere near any of the four men at the time of their disappearances.

He was a crackie from end to end, but he hadn't a handle they could get hold of.

"I am not ghoulish," Umholtz said to his men Planter and Shartel, "but the disappearance of four of my five compet.i.tors has opened up some pretty obvious opportunities for me. Oh, other men will be designated to replace them, hut it'll be a long time before they get that sharp."

"What did the crackie have this afternoon, Mr. Umholtz?" Planter asked him.

"It isn't worth mentioning. One of the oldest and silliest."

The three of them were walking in the park in the evening.

"I suddenly feel odd," said Umholtz and he placed one hand on his head and the other on his paunch. "Something I ate for supper didn't agree with me."

"It's the worry," said Planter. "The disappearances have upset you.

With the thought that you might be next on the list, there has been a great weight on you."

"I really feel as though a great weight has been lifted off me,"

said Umholtz, "but I don't like the feeling. I'm light-headed."

"The walk will do you good," Planter told him. "You look well to me.

I've never seen you move with so light a step."

"No, no, I'm sick," Umholtz moaned, and he began to look up in the air as though fearful of an attack from that sector. "My feet don't track right. There's a lightness in me. My stomach is turning inside out. Lord, but it would be a long way to fall!"

Umholtz flopped his way forward, his feet slipping on the gra.s.s as though he had lost traction. He got hold of the tree -- a small elm.

"I'm starting to go!" he howled in real terror.

He put a bear hug around the tree, locking on to it with both arms and legs. "Great dancing dogfish, don't let me fall," he sobbed. "How did I ever get so high up?"

"Umholtz, you are six inches from the ground," Planter told him.

"The man's gone mad, Shartel. Let's pry his legs loose first. When we get his feet on the ground he may get over his mania about falling."

"Fools! Fools! You'll let me fall all the way down," Umholtz screamed, but he was looking upward, and his face was flushed as though all the blood had run to his head.

"He was right," Umholtz sniffled wetly in an interlude from his screaming and sobbing. "I'm finally convinced."

"There's one leg loose, Shartel," said Planter as he worked on Umholtz, "but for some reason it seems pretty difficult to hold it to the ground. Now the other leg, and we'll set him down on his feet. Whoops!