Выбрать главу

“What do you want – main entrance is round the other side.”

“Where's the boss?” called Tom. “I got something for him.”

The doors opened to allow us to enter.

“Over there in his office,” said the man, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

As we approached I could see that the third planet mania for wheels had led them even to mount the ‘office’ thus.

Tom entered and re­ap­peared shortly, accom­panied by another man.

“There it is,” he said, pointing to me, “and there ain't another like it nowhere. The only all-metal animal in the world – how'll that look on the posters?”

The other regarded me with no enthu­siasm in his eyes and a deal of dis­be­lief in his mind.

“That long box thing?” he inquired.

“Sure, ‘that box thing’. Here, you,” he added to me, “get out of it.”

Both retreated a step as I advan­ced, the new man looked appre­hen­sively at my fore-rods.

“You're sure it's safe?” he asked ner­vously.

“Safe?” said Tom. “ 'Course it's safe.”

To prove it he came across and patted my case.

“I'm offer­ing you the biggest noise in the show busi­ness. It's worth ten times what I'm asking for it — I tell you, there ain't another one in the world.”

“Well, I ain't heard of another,” admitted the show­man grud­gingly. “Where'd you get it?”

“Made it,” said Tom blandly. “Spare time.”

The man con­ti­nued to regard me with little enthu­siasm.

“Can it do anything?” he asked at last.

“Can it—?” began Tom indignantly. “Here you,” he added, “fetch that lump of wood.”

When I brought it, the other looked a trifle less doubt­ful.

“What's inside it?” he deman­ded.

“Secrets,” said Tom shortly.

“Well, it's got to stop bein' a secret before I buy it. What sort of a fool do you take me for? Let's have a look at the thing's innards.”

“No,” said Tom, sending a ner­vous look side­ways at me. “Either you take it or leave it.”

“Ho, so that's your little game, is it? I'm to be the sucker who buys the thing and then finds the kid inside, workin' it. It wouldn't surprise me to find that the police'd like to know about this.”

“There ain't no kid inside,” denied Tom, “it's just – just secret works. That's what it is.”

“I'll believe you when I see.”

Tom waited a moment before he answered.

“All right,” he said desperately, “we'll get the blasted lid off of it... Here, hey, come back you.”

The last was a shout to me but I gave it no notice. It was one thing to observe the curious ways of these humans but it was quite a different matter to let them pry into my machi­nery. The clumsi­ness of such as Tom was capable of damaging my arrange­ments seriously.

“Stop it,” bawled Tom, behind me.

A man in my path landed a futile blow on my body case as I swept him aside. Before me was the biggest of all the cloth-covered erect­ions.

“Here,” I thought, “there will be plenty of room to hide.”

I was wrong. Inside, in a circular space, stood a line of four-footed ani­mals. They were unlike the others I had met, in that they had no spikes on their heads and were of a much slenderer build, but they were just as primi­tive. All around, in tier upon tier of rings, sat hundreds of human beings.

Just a glimpse, I had, and then the ani­mals saw me. They bolted in all direc­tions and shouts of terror arose from the crowd.

I don't remember clearly what happened to me, but some­where and some­how in the confu­sion which followed I found Tom in the act of start­ing his car. His first glance at me was one of pure alarm, then he seemed to think better of it.

“Get in,” he snapped, “we've got to get clear of this some­how – and quick.”

Although I could make far better speed than that prepos­terous machine, it seemed better to accom­pany him than to wander aim­lessly.

THE CRASH

Sadly, that night I gazed up at the red, fourth planet.

There rolled a world which I could under­stand, but here, all around me, was chaos, incre­dible, un­reason­ing mad­ness.

With me, in the machine, sat three friends of Tom's whom he had picked up at the last town, and Tom him­self who was steering the contrap­tion. I shut my plate off from their thoughts and consid­ered the day I had spent.

Once he was assured that we were free from pursuit, Tom had said to himself:

“Well, I guess that deserves a drink.”

Then he stopped on a part of the hard strip which was bordered by a row of arti­fi­cial caves.

Conti­nually, as the day wore on, he led me past gaping crowds into places where every man held a glass of coloured liquid. Strange liquids they were, although men do not value water on the third planet. And each time he proudly showed me to his friends in these places, he came to believe more firmly that he had created me.

Towards sunset some­thing seemed to go seriously wrong with his machi­nery. He leaned heavily upon me for support and his voice became as uncer­tain as his thoughts were jumbled.

“Anybody comin' my way?” he had in­quired at last and at that invi­ta­tion the other three men had joined us.

The machine seemed to have become as queer as the men. In the morn­ing it had held a straight line, but now it swayed from side to side, some­times as though it would leave the track. Each time it just avoided the edge, all four men would break off their conti­nuous wailing sounds to laugh sense­lessly and loudly.

It was while I struggled to find some mean­ing in all this mad­ness that the disaster occurred.

Another machine appeared ahead. Its lights showed its approach and ours must have been as plain. Then an astounding thing happened. Instead of avoid­ing one another as would two intelligent machines, the two lum­ber­ing masses charged blindly together. Truly this was an insane world.

There came a rending smash. Our machine toppled over on its side. The other left the hard strip, struck one of the growths at the side of the road and burst into naked flames.

None of the four men seemed more than a little dazed. As one of them scrambled free, he pointed to the blaze.

“Thash good bonfire,” he said. “Jolly good bonfire. Wonder if anybody'sh inshide?”

They all reeled over to examine the wreck while I, forgotten, waited for the next imbe­ci­lity to occur on this night­mare world.

“It'sh a girl,” said Tom's voice.

One of the others nodded solemnly.

“I think you're right,” he agreed with diffi­cult dig­nity.

After an inter­val, there came the girl's voice.

“But what shall I do? I'm miles from home.”

“ 'S'all righ',” said Tom. “Quite all righ'. You come along with me. Nishe fellow I am.”

I could read the intention behind his words – so could the girl.

There was the sound of a scuffle.

“No, you don't, my beauty. No runnin' away. Dangeroush for li'l girlsh – 'lone in the dark.”

She started to scream, but a hand quickly stifled the sound.

I caught the up­surge of terror in her mind and at that moment I knew her.

The girl whose machine I had mended — who had been grate­ful.

In a flash I was among them. Three of the men started back in alarm, but not Tom. He was con­tempt­uous of me because I had obeyed him. He lifted a heavy boot to send it crash­ing at my lens. Human move­ment is slow: before his leg had com­pleted the back swing, I had caught it and whirled him away. The rest started futilely to close in on me.

I picked the girl up in my fore-rods and raced away into the dark­ness out of their sight.