Takeoff. Part 31

Now, in return, our hero starts, in manner most emphatical, To show the banker how to solve his problems mathematical.

And one clerk gets so sore he ups and takes a leave sabbatical; "I can't take Arab numerals," he says; "I've had my fill!"

But Mr. Padway takes the resignation with pa.s.sivity.

The other men have shown a mathematical proclivity, So, confident the system will increase their productivity, He takes his borrowed money and goes out and buys a still.

Then, trading in on what he knows about historiography, Our Martin Padway next invents the art of ma.s.s typography.

He hires a bunch of Roman scribes (He's fond of their chirography), And makes them all reporters for his paper: Roman Times.

Because of a Sicilian he fired without apology, He gets in lots of trouble on a charge of demonology.

But, using all the very best of Freudian psychology, He gets himself released from prosecution for the crimes.

The Roman city governor, a certain Count Honorius (A man who is notorious for actions amatorious), Is then convinced by Padway, in a very long, laborious, And detailed explanation of how corporations work, That he (the Count), in order to insure his own prosperity, Should use his cash to back, with all expedient celerity, A telegraphic system Padway's building for posterity.

The Count proceeds to do so, with an avaricious smirk.

But while our hero is engaged in projects multifarious, An army of Imperialists under Belisarius Invades the Goths, who find that their position is precarious, So Padway has to help the Gothic army win the fight.

He saves the King from being killed, to win his royal grat.i.tude, And though our hero's hampered by the King's fog headed att.i.tude, He gets appointed Quaestor, which affords him lots of lat.i.tude.

He whips the Greek invaders in the middle of the night.

The King becomes so useless that he's almost parasitical, And Padway finds himself up to his neck in things political; He has to learn to tread with care, and not be hypercritical Of how affairs are run in the Italo-Gothic state.

The Byzantines send in another army with rapidity, And b.l.o.o.d.y John, the general, attacks with great avidity.

Because the Gothic nation lacks political solidity, The Byzantines march northward at a very rapid rate.

The Greeks go up through Italy with thundering and plundering; The Gothic troops, as always, just continue with their blundering, While Martin Padway, at their head, is worrying and wondering Just what the h.e.l.l he's gonna do and where he's gonna go!

At last he comes in contact with Joannas Sanguinarius!

(The battle's very b.l.o.o.d.y, but de Camp makes it hilarious.) And just as he's about to lose, the turncoat Belisarius Comes charging in with cavalry and quickly routs the foe.

Now, though all through the novel we've been jollied with jocundity, The story's ended on a note of very great profundity: The Roman-Goth society's been saved from moribundity!

For two years, Padway's been in Rome-and things have sure changed since!

The greatest fighting man in Rome since Emperor Aurelian, The sneaky little tricks he pulls are quite Mephistophelian; Though modest and retiring once, he's changed like a chameleon To something like a character from Machiavelli's "Prince"!

A.E. VAN VOGT'S "SLAN".

By Randall Garrett

Like many of the other stories I mention in this book. I first read Slan in the magazine version. In those far-off and ancient days, science fiction was a genre rarely found between book covers, either hard or soft. If you wanted to read science fiction, you went to the magazines. or you did without. And in 1940. the best of them all was John Campbell's Astounding Science Fiction.

And towards the end of that year, in the last three issues, Slan exploded like fifty kilos of lithium hydride. Nothing even remotely like it had ever been written before.

Much of my magazine collection was lost during the war, and the Arkham House edition.

which came out in 1946, somehow got lost, too. For years, all I had was the paperback edition of Slan, which was slightly different from the original.

But I remembered the original. and it is from the magazine version that I wrote the verse.

Two days ago, as I write this, I received in the mail a present from A. E. Van Vogt. It was a personally autographed copy of the Nelson Doubleday edition of Slan. from the original magazine version.

Lord love you. Van. I know I do.

Our tale begins with Jommy Cross, A Slan lad who's pursued By Petty, Secret Service boss, A fellow mean and shrewd.

It seems, you see, that any Slan Is somewhat of a superman, So humans have p.r.o.nounced a ban, Which starts an awful feud.

Young Jommy, who's a telepath, Escapes and meets old Gran, Who feeds him, makes him take a bath, And then begins to plan.

She hates to live in filth and grime; She don't like starving all the time; And so she plans a life of crime, For which she needs a Slan.

The scene now shifts some miles away, Where, in a palace grand, A plot is laid to murder Gray, The ruler of the land.

The plot is foiled by sweet Kathleen, A female Slan, the heroine, Whose telepathic mind has seen How Gray's demise was planned.

With Katy's aid, the entire gang Is mopped up neat and clean.

Says Gray: "You done that with a bang, So bend an ear, Kathleen, The law says all Slans must be shot And that puts you upon the spot.

But since you helped me foil that plot, I could not be so mean."

Meanwhile, young Cross, against his will, Has started stealing, which Has helped Gran fill the coffers, till The two of them are rich.

Unknown to Granny, Jommy's found, In someplace hidden underground, A gun his father left around, Concealed there in a niche.

One day, while thinking of his woes, He b.u.mps into a pair Of older Slans, to whom he shows The tendrils in his hair.

There are two types of Slans, we find The tendrilless and tendrilled kind.

(The former cannot read your mind.) Well, these two don't play fair.

They chase him! Jommy runs like h.e.l.l!

He hears them call him "snake."

He says, "They don't like tendrils.

Well, That's more than I can take.

Although I'm in an awful mess, Since them two Slans is tendrilless, If I escape, they'll see, I guess, They made a bad mistake!"

Without delay, he gets away And starts in making plans To search until he finds, some day, The true or tendrilled Slans.

For this he needs a s.p.a.ce ship, so, Since he knows just the place to go, He quickly packs up all his dough, And also most of Gran's.

The Slans (sans tendrils) have a lair, And Jommy knows they've got A hot-rod s.p.a.ce ship hidden there; He sneaks off to the spot.

And giving all the guards the slip, He climbs into the rocket ship, Sits down and gives the switch a flip, And takes off like a shot.

The Slans' gigantic super ships Are cruising all around.

Says Cross: "I'll hide from all these drips Where I cannot be found.

They think they got me on the run; Well, brother, watch me have some fun!"

He turns on Pappy's atom gun And dives into the ground.

The s.p.a.ce ship's now well-hidden, so He says, "I'll never rest.

Until I find true Slans, I'll go And do my very best."

He knows, no matter where they are, They can't have gone so very far, And so he builds a super car And starts out on his quest.

Now let's get back to sweet Kathleen.

She's double-crossed by Gray.

She's told, in manner quite serene, That on that very day She must become the mistress of A gentleman she doesn't love.

"Oh, h.e.l.l," says Kate, "I guess I'll shove."

And quickly runs away.

She's chased by Petty. (You know him, The Secret Service Boss. ) She flees into a cavern dim, All full of dust and moss.

Now to an author, nothing beats All these coincidental feats, So whom do you suppose she meets?

You guessed it! Tommy Cross!

So down the cavern halls they walk.

"Gee, this is great!" says he.

(Of course, instead of normal talk, They use telepathy. ) She says, "I ran from Petty, but He'll never find me here, the mutt."

And Tommy Cross, the stupid nut, Says, "Yes, dear, I agree."

He really pulls a b.o.n.e.r then, A stunt I can't condone.

He leaves her. Petty and his men Find Katy all alone.

So Petty shoots her through the head; He fills her noggin full of lead; And sweet Kathleen falls over dead; She doesn't even groan.

Poor Jommy slams his auto door And drives away in tears.

Of course, he gets away once more.