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.
I had to agree with that, looking out over that monotonous rolling clay that seemed to support only those few tumble-weedlike bushes, and not many of them. It didn’t look like it would support anything else. As for minerals, I hadn’t seen even a pebble.
“Right you are,” I called back. “Any planet that raises nothing but tumbleweeds and cockroaches can keep itself, as far as we’re concerned. So—” Then something dawned on me. “Hey, just a minute. There must be something else or who the devil am I talking to?”
“You are talking,” replied the voice, “to what you call cockroaches, which is another point of incompatibility between us. To be more precise, you are talking to a thought-projected voice, but we are projecting it. And let me assure you of one thing—that you are more repugnant physically to us than we are to you.”
I looked down then and saw them, three of them, ready to pop into holes if I made a move.
Back inside the ship, I said, “Johnny, blast off. Destination, Earth.”
He saluted and said, ”
Yes, sir,” and went into the pilot’s compartment and shut the door. He didn’t cone out until we were on an automatic course, with Sirius dwindling behind us.
Ellen had gone to her room. Ma and I were playing cribbage.
“May I go off duty, sir?” Johnny asked, and walked stiffly to his room when I answered, “Sure.”
After a while, Ma and I turned in. Awhile after that we heard noises. I got up to investigate, and investigated.
I came back grinning. “Everything’s okay, Ma,” I said. “It’s Johnny Lane and he’s as drunk as a hoot owl!” And I slapped Ma playfully on the fanny.
“Ouch, you old fool,” she sniffed. “I’m sore there from the curb disappearing from under me. And what’ s wonderful about Johnny getting drunk? You aren’t, are you?”
“No,” I admitted, regretfully perhaps. “But, Ma, he told me to go to blazes. And without saluting. Me, the owner of the ship.”
Ma just looked at me. Sometimes women are smart, but sometimes they’re pretty dumb.
“Listen, he isn’t going to keep on getting drunk,” I said. “This is an occasion. Can’t you see what happened to his pride and dignity?”
“You mean because he—”
“Because he fell in love with the thought-projection of a cockroach,” I pointed out. “Or anyway he thought he did. He has to get drunk once to forget that, and from now on, after he sobers up, he’s going to be human. I’ll bet on it, any odds. And I’ll bet too that once he’s human, he’s going to see Ellen and realize how pretty she is. I’ll bet he’s head-over-heels before we get back to Earth. I’ll get a bottle and we’ll drink a toast on it. To Nothing Sirius!”