There was something knocking at my mind and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. There was something wrong, something that didn’t make sense.
Ma was worried too. Finally I heard her say, “Pop, if they really want to keep this place a secret, wouldn’t they maybe—uh—”
“No, they wouldn’t,” I answered, maybe a bit snappishly. That wasn’t what I was worried about, though.
I looked down at that new and perfect road, and there was something about it I didn’t like. I diagonaled over to the curb and walked along that, looked down at the greenish clay beyond, but there wasn’t anything to see except more holes and more bugs like I’d seen back at the Bon-Ton Restaurant.
Maybe they weren’t cockroaches, though, unless the movie company had brought them. But they were near enough like cockroaches for all practical purposes—if a cockroach has a practical purpose, that is. And they still didn’t have bow ties or propellers or feathers. They were just plain cockroaches.
I stepped off the paving and tried to step on one or two of them, but they got away and popped into holes. They were plenty fast and shifty on their feet.
I got back on the road and walked with Ma. When she asked, “What were you doing?” I answered, ” Nothing.”
Ellen was walking on the other side of Ma and keeping her face a studious blank. I could guess what she was thinking and I wished there was something could be done about it. The only thing I could think of was to decide to stay on Earth awhile at the end of this trip, and give her a chance to get over Johnny by meeting a lot of other young sprigs. Maybe even finding one she liked.
Johnny was walking along in a daze. He was gone all right, and he’d fallen with awful suddenness, like guys like that always do. Maybe it wasn’t love, just infatuation, but right now he didn’t know what planet he was on.
We were over the first rise now, out of sight of Sam’s tent. “Pop, did you see any movie cameras around?” Ma asked suddenly.
“Nope, but those things cost millions. They don’t leave them sitting around loose when they’re not being used.”
Ahead of us was the front of that restaurant. It looked funny as the devil from a side view, walking toward it from that direction. Nothing in sight but that, the road and green clay hills.
There weren’t any cockroaches on the street, and I realized that I’d never seen one there. It seemed as though they never got up on it or crossed it. Why would a cockroach cross the road? To get on the other side?
There was still something knocking at my mind, something that made less sense than anything else.
It got stronger and stronger and it was driving me as crazy as it was. I got to wishing I had another drink. The sun Sirius was getting down toward the horizon, but it was still plenty hot. I even began to wish I had a drink of water.
Ma looked tired too. “Let’s stop for a rest,” I said, “we’re about halfway back.”
We stopped. It was right in front of the Bon-Ton and I looked up at the sign and grinned. “Johnny, will you go in and order dinner for us?”
He saluted and replied, “Yes, sir,” and started for the door. He suddenly got red in the face and stopped. I chuckled but I didn’t rub it in by saying anything else.
Ma and Ellen sat down on the curb.
I walked through the restaurant door again and it hadn’t changed any. Smooth like glass on the other side. The same cockroach—I guess it was the same one—was still sitting or standing by the same hole.
I said, “Hello, there,” but it didn’t answer, so I tried to step on it but again it was too fast for me. I noticed something funny. It had started for the hole the second I decided to step on it, even before I had actually moved a muscle.
I went back through to the front again, and leaned against the wall. It was nice and solid to lean against. I took a cigar out of my pocket and started to light it, but I dropped the match. Almost, I knew what was wrong.
Something about Sam Heideman.
“Ma,” I said, “isn’t Sam Heideman—dead?”
And then, with appalling suddenness I wasn’t leaning against a wall anymore because the wall just wasn’t there and I was falling backward.
I heard Ma yell and Ellen squeal.
I picked myself up off the greenish clay. Ma and Ellen were getting up too, from sitting down hard on the ground because the curb they’d been sitting on wasn’t there any more either. Johnny was staggering a bit from having the road disappear under the soles of his feet, and dropping a few inches.
There wasn’t a sign anywhere of road or restaurant, just the rolling green hills. And—yes, the cockroaches were still there.
The fall had jolted me plenty, and I was mad. I wanted something to take out my mad on. There were only cockroaches. They hadn’t gone up into nothingness like the rest of it. I made another try at the nearest one, and missed again. This time I was positive that he’d moved before I did.
Ellen looked down at where the street ought to be, at where the restaurant front ought to be, and then back the way we’d come as though wondering if the Penny Arcade tent was still there.
“It isn’t,” I said.
Ma asked, “It isnt what?”
“Isn’t there,” I explained.
Ma glowered at me. “What isn’t where?”
“The tent,” I said, a bit peeved. “The movie company. The whole shebang. And especially Sam Heideman. It was when I remembered about Sam Heideman—five years ago in Luna City we heard he was dead—so he wasn’t there. None of it was there. And the minute I realized that, they pulled it all out from under us.”
“’They?’ What do you mean, ‘they,’ Pop Wherry? Who is ‘they’?”
“You mean who are ‘they’?” I said, but the look Ma gave me made me wince.
“Let’s not talk here,” I went on. “Let’s get back to the ship as quick as we can, first. You can lead us there, Johnny, without the street?”
He nodded, forgetting to salute or ”
sir” me. We started off, none of us talking. I wasn’t worried about Johnny getting us back; he’d been all right until we’d hit the tent; he’d been following our course with his wrist-compass.
After we got to where the end of the street had been, it got easy because we could see our own footprints in the clay, and just had to follow them. We passed the rise where there had been the purple bush with the propeller birds, but the birds weren’t there now, nor was the purple bush.
But the Chitterling was still there, thank Heavens. We saw it from the last rise and it looked just as we had left it. It looked like home, and we started to walk faster.
I opened the door and stood aside for Ma and Ellen to go in first. Ma had just started in when we heard the voice. It said, “We bid you farewell.”
I said, “We bid you farewell, too. And the hell with you.”
I motioned Ma to go on into the ship. The sooner I was out of this place, the better I’d like it.
But the voice said, “Wait,” and there was something about it that made us wait. “We wish to explain to you so that you will not return.”
Nothing had been further from my mind, but I said, “Why not?”
“Your civilization is not compatible with ours. We have studied your minds to make sure. We projected images from the images we found in your minds, to study your reactions to them. Our first images, our first thought-projections, were confused.
But we understood your minds by the time you reached the far-thest point of your walk. We were able to project beings similar to yourselves.”
“Sam Heideman, yeah,” I said. “But how about the da—the woman? She couldn’t have been in the memory of any of us because none of us knew her.”
“She was a composite—what you would call an idealization. That, however, doesn’t matter. By studying you we learned that your civilization concerns itself with things, ours with thoughts. Neither of us has anything to offer the other. No good could come through interchange, whereas much harm might come. Our planet has no material resources that would interest your race.