Fantastic Stories Present the Galaxy Science Fiction Super Pack #1. Edgar Pangborn
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He was disappointed.
“The house they want to come in and see.”
He began working up a rage again, but caught himself and looked up into his daughter’s face. “Mean you—my house they want to see?”
When she nodded Papa seized the lowest strand of wire and lifted the fence high enough for Cassidy and Mason to crawl under. “Why, arranged it can be, I think.”
Its architectural prominences rendered shadowless in the tri-solar light, the manor was even more imposing close at hand. Of stone construction, it flaunted millwork and beams whose rich carvings would have been welcome on any mansion in the known Galaxy.
Mounting the steps, Mason observed, “Nice little layout they’ve got here.”
Riva moved closer to Cassidy. “Inside is cozy,” she said behind a coy smile. “Play we can really in there.”
Papa had been at the door for some time, fumbling with the lock. In a burst of impatience, he drew off and gave it a solid kick. Then he went back and tried rattling the handle. After a while there was a click and it swung open.
Cassidy followed him into a blaze of iridescent color and unfamiliar form. The huge, circular room was like a vast diorama and it was impossible to tell exactly where the solid objects blended in with the jumbled geometric pattern of the wall.
He walked across a carpet of undulant fibers that reached well above his ankles. And he tripped across a padded, Z-shaped slab that protruded from the wall but slithered into a U and retracted as soon as it received the burden of his weight.
Laughing, Riva helped him up and he paused for a closer visual inspection of his outlandish surroundings. Objects of weird shapes and unguessable purposes hung from the ceiling, some changing form and size as he watched. Scattered about were articles of furniture (he guessed) that resembled giant starfish supported at their centers and extremities by coiled springs. Only, each arm was shaped like a trough that ran into the bowl-like central depression of the piece.
*
A gleeful scream sounded behind them and Papa went tearing by. With a running leap, he landed on an arm of one of the starfish. Its supporting spring contracted under the weight, then catapulted him ceilingward. When he came down again, it was on an arm of another starfish, then another.
The fourth collapsed, depositing him on the floor, and its spring went twanging across the room. Struggling to his feet, he staggered into something resembling a clothes tree, knocked it over and sprawled beside it.
He roared with delight as he snapped the stem of the thing across his knee and hurled the pieces at the ceiling. They scored direct hits on one of the bulky objects suspended overhead and it came crashing down with a twinkling roar amid a shower of sparks.
“Yow-ee!” he exuberated. “So much fun I never had!”
Riva helped him up. “Papa, it’s control yourself you must. The last time—remember?”
But he only shook her off and went bounding through an archway. His hectic progress through the house was punctuated by sounds of crashing destruction.
“Honestly,” Riva said, spreading her hands, “what to do with him I don’t know.”
Cassidy continued staring in the direction the old man had gone. “He’s wrecking the place!”
“That he is,” she admitted sighing. “And such a nice joint it be, too.”
“He’s just plain nuts!” said Mason.
Riva smiled. “But it’s so much fun he has.”
Cassidy moved away to get a better view of a silvery gray screen set in the wall and flanked by twin rows of dials and knobs.
“You got stereovision, Riva?” he asked.
Mason went over and twisted several of the controls until a soft light began suffusing the screen.
“Ster-eo-what?” the girl asked.
“Video, television—pictures with sound.”
Her face brightened. “Pictures we got—sounds too. Right in that little window.”
Just then Papa, uninhibited as ever, came storming back into the room with a lusty “Ya-hoo!” He lost his footing and crashed against the screen. Sparks shot out and the picture that was beginning to take shape faded into obscurity.
“It that settles, Papa!” Riva said, exasperated. “Outside I’m going and for what happens to you I’m not responsible!”
At the door, she paused and smiled at Cassidy. “It’ll have to be out there that we play, but no less fun will we have. Put on my best cavorting clothes I’m going to.”
Mason turned the knobs again, but produced nothing more than the smell of burning insulation and a few snickers from Papa.
“At least,” Cassidy observed, “they evidently do know something about electronics. All we have to do now is run down one of the technicians and we might get the parts we need for the stabilizer.”
*
Outside Mason dropped down on the steps and sat with his shoulders slumping. “Damnedest thing I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled.
Cassidy paced to the edge of the porch and stared out over the field. A monstrous skimmer craft appeared in the distance, floating over toward what seemed to be a pile of trash in front of one of the estates. Twin beams of crimson light darted from the nose of the vehicle and played over the mound. In seconds, the heap had melted away and the skimmer floated on.
Wolruf was still walking his octopus-spider pet. There were now two packs of youths out chasing girls. And another skimmer car was having no difficulty surviving the stone-throwing assault of not one, but two dedicated pursuers. Outside of that, Cassidy noted, things appeared quite normal.
Mason slapped his thighs and rose. “You go see if Riva knows how we can contact the authorities. I’m going back and stay with the ship.”
Cassidy watched him crawl under the fence, then went around the side of the house. When he caught sight of the girl, she was just disappearing into a smaller structure that might have been a guest house or garage.
Following, he knocked on the door and called out her name anxiously.
“To play are you ready?” There was an eager note in her voice as it came through the panel. “In come on. It’s all set I’ll be in a jiffy.”
He turned the knob, stepped half into the room, lurched back outside and slammed the door behind him. “Riva!”
The door started to open, then closed again as the girl laughed. “Oh, all right. Funny you be. It’s to play you want, don’t you?”
He assured her that he did and added, “But there’s something we have to talk about now, Riva.”
“Talk, talk, talk. And it gets you where? Only wastes time, it does.”
A moment later the door opened and she stood there smiling, with legs apart and hands on her hips. But he hardly had time to react to the skimpiness of her halter and skirt.
“Now,” she urged as she sprang up on her toes and kissed him full on the lips, “like a chaser make! To the races we’re off!”
With that, she whirled and went streaking through the next room.
*
He surveyed his surroundings. It was an ordinary bedroom with conventional furnishings—perhaps a bit crude even for a culture without any space technology. But, then, it didn’t seem uncharacteristic, considering the circumstances.
Recognizing the contrast between this guest house and the manor, he frowned as he started off in search of the girl. A worrisome suspicion dogged his thoughts—there had to be sense to Riva and her father