The Second Science Fiction MEGAPACK®. Robert Silverberg
Читать онлайн книгу.
The Second Science Fiction Megpack
COPYRIGHT INFO
“What’s He Doing in There?” by Fritz Leiber, originally appeared in Galaxy Science Fiction, December 1957.
“The Marching Morons,” by C.M. Kornbluth, originally appeared in Galaxy Science Fiction, April 1951.
“Ghost,” by Darrell Schweitzer, originally appeared in Interzone #199, January 1999. Copyright © 1999 by Darrell Schweitzer. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Death Wish,” by Robert Sheckley, originally appeared in Galaxy Science Fiction, June 1956, under the pseudonym “Ned Lang.”
“The Waveries,” by Fredric Brown, originally appeared in Astounding Science Fiction, January 1945.
“Adam and No Eve,” by Alfred Bester, originally appeared in Astounding Science Fiction, September 1941.
“Foxy Lady,” by Lawrence Watt-Evans, is copyright © 1992 by Lawrence Watt-Evans. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Thin Edge,” by Randall Garrett, originally appeared in Analog Science Fact & Fiction, December 1963.
“Compandroid,” by Nina Kiriki Hoffman, originally appeared in SF Review, Vol 1 #3. Copyright © 1990 by Nina Kiriki Hoffman. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“Postmark Ganymede,” by Robert Silverberg, originally appeared in Amazing Stories, September 1957.
“Keep Out,” by Fredric Brown, originally appeared in Amazing Stories, March 1954.
“The Hate Disease,” by Murray Leinster, originally appeared in Analog, August 1963.
“Universal Donor,” by Nina Kiriki Hoffman, originally appeared in Pulphouse #4, copyright © 1989 by Nina Kiriki Hoffman. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“The Green Beret,” by Tom Purdom, originally appeared in Analog, January 1961.
“Mr. Spaceship,” by Philip K. Dick, originally appeared in Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy, January 1953.
“Brknk’s Bounty,” by Jerry Sohl, originally appeared in Galaxy Science Fiction, January 1955.
“The Battle of Little Big Science,” by Pamela Rentz, originally appeared in Asimov’s Science Fiction, August 2010. Reprinted by permission of the author.
“The Ego Machine,” by Henry Kuttner, originally appeared in Space Science Fiction, May 1952.
“The Sensitive Man,” by Poul Anderson, originally appeared in Fantastic Universe, January 1954.
“Revolution,” by Mack Reynolds, originally appeared in Astounding Science Fiction. May 1960.
“The Thing in the Attic,” by James Blish, originally appeared in If Worlds of Science Fiction July 1954.
“The Dueling Machine,” by Ben Bova and Myron R. Lewis, originally appeared in Analog Science Fact & Fiction, May 1963.
“The Planet Savers,” by Marion Zimmer Bradley, originally appeared in Amazing Stories, November, 1958.
WHAT’S HE DOING IN THERE? by Fritz Leiber
The Professor was congratulating Earth’s first visitor from another planet on his wisdom in getting in touch with a cultural anthropologist before contacting any other scientists (or governments, God forbid!), and in learning English from radio and TV before landing from his orbit-parked rocket, when the Martian stood up and said hesitantly, “Excuse me, please, but where is it?”
That baffled the Professor, and the Martian seemed to grow anxious—at least his long mouth curved upward, and he had earlier explained that it curling downward was his smile—and he repeated, “Please, where is it?”
He was surprisingly humanoid in most respects, but his complexion was textured so like the rich dark armchair he’d just been occupying that the Professor’s pin-striped gray suit, which he had eagerly consented to wear, seemed an arbitrary interruption between him and the chair—a sort of Mother Hubbard dress on a phantom conjured from its leather.
The Professor’s Wife, always a perceptive hostess, came to her husband’s rescue by saying with equal rapidity, “Top of the stairs, end of the hall, last door.”
The Martian’s mouth curled happily downward and he said, “Thank you very much,” and was off.
Comprehension burst on the Professor. He caught up with his guest at the foot of the stairs.
“Here, I’ll show you the way,” he said.
“No, I can find it myself, thank you,” the Martian assured him.
Something rather final in the Martian’s tone made the Professor desist, and after watching his visitor sway up the stairs with an almost hypnotic softly jogging movement, he rejoined his wife in the study, saying wonderingly, “Who’d have thought it, by George! Function taboos as strict as our own!”
“I’m glad some of your professional visitors maintain ’em,” his wife said darkly.
“But this one’s from Mars, darling, and to find out he’s—well, similar in an aspect of his life is as thrilling as the discovery that water is burned hydrogen. When I think of the day not far distant when I’ll put his entries in the cross-cultural index…”
He was still rhapsodizing when the Professor’s Little Son raced in.
“Pop, the Martian’s gone to the bathroom!”
“Hush, dear. Manners.”
“Now it’s perfectly natural, darling, that the boy should notice and be excited. Yes, Son, the Martian’s not so very different from us.”
“Oh, certainly,” the Professor’s Wife said with a trace of bitterness. “I don’t imagine his turquoise complexion will cause any comment at all when you bring him to a faculty reception. They’ll just figure he’s had a hard night—and that he got that baby-elephant nose sniffing around for assistant professorships.”
“Really, darling! He probably thinks of our noses as disagreeably amputated and paralyzed.”
“Well, anyway, Pop, he’s in the bathroom. I followed him when he squiggled upstairs.”
“Now, Son, you shouldn’t have done that. He’s on a strange planet and it might make him nervous if he thought he was being spied on. We must show him every courtesy. By George, I can’t wait to discuss these things with Ackerly-Ramsbottom! When I think of how much more this encounter has to give the anthropologist than even the physicist or astronomer…”
He was still going strong on his second rhapsody when he was interrupted by another high-speed entrance. It was the Professor’s Coltish Daughter.
“Mom, Pop, the Martian’s—”
“Hush, dear. We know.”
The Professor’s Coltish Daughter regained her adolescent poise, which was considerable. “Well, he’s still in there,” she said. “I just tried the door and it was locked.”
“I’m glad it was!” the Professor said, while his wife added, “Yes, you can’t be sure what—” and caught herself. “Really, dear, that was very bad manners.”
“I thought he’d come downstairs long ago,” her daughter explained. “He’s been in there an awfully long time. It must have been a half hour ago that I saw him gyre and gimbal upstairs in that real gone way he has, with Nosy here following him.” The Professor’s Coltish Daughter was currently soaking up both jive and Alice.
* * * *
When the Professor checked his wristwatch, his expression grew troubled. “By George, he is taking his time! Though, of course, we don’t know how much time Martians… I wonder.”
“I listened for a while, Pop,” his son volunteered. “He was running the water a lot.”
“Running the water, eh? We know Mars is a water-starved planet. I suppose that in the presence of unlimited