уDonтt those people know thereтs a war on?ф he asked himself.
And a little later: уThey looked too healthy. Why arenтt they in uniform?ф
And last of all: уWho were they anyway?ф
That night Addyerтs fantasy was confused.
Can you spare price of one cup coffee, kindly sir? I am estrangered and faintly from hungering.
The next morning Addyer arose early, hired a car at an exorbitant fee, found he could not buy any fuel at any price and ultimately settled for a lame horse. He was allergic to horse dander and suffered asthmatic tortures as he began his house-to-house canvass. He was discouraged when he returned to the Lyonesse Hotel that afternoon. He was just in time to witness the departure of the O.K. Bus Co.
Once again a horde of happy people appeared and boarded the bus. Once again the bus hirpled off down the broken road. Once again the joyous singing broke out.
уI will be damned,ф Addyer wheezed.
He dropped into the county surveyorтs office for a large-scale map of Finney County. It was his intent to plot the midwife coverage in accepted statistical manner. There was a little difficulty with the surveyor who was deaf, blind in one eye and spectacleless in the other. He could not read Addyerтs credentials with any faculty or facility. As Addyer finally departed with the map, he said to himself, уI think the old idiot thought I was a spy.ф
And later he muttered, уSpies?ф
And just before bedtime: уHoly Moses! Maybe thatтs the answer to them.ф That night he was Lincolnтs secret agent, anticipating Leeтs every move, outwitting Jackson, Johnston and Beauregard, foiling John Wilkes Booth, and being elected President of the United States by 1968.
The next day the O.K. Bus Co. carried off yet another load of happy people.
And the next.
And the next.
уFour hundred tourists in five days,ф Addyer computed. уThe countryтs filled with espionage.ф
He began loafing around the streets trying to investigate these joyous travelers. It was difficult. They were elusive before the bus arrived. They had a friendly way of refusing to pass the time. The locals of Lyonesse knew nothing
about them and were not interested. Nobody was interested in much more than painful survival these days. That was what made the singing obscene.
After seven days of cloak-and-dagger and seven days of counting, Addyer suddenly did the big take. уIt adds up,ф he said. уEighty people a day leaving Lyonesse. Five hundred a week. Twenty-five thousand a year. Maybe thatтs the answer to the population increase.ф He spent fifty-five dollars on a telegram to Grande with no more than a hope of delivery. The telegram read:
уEUREKA. I HAVE FOUND (IT).ф
Can you spare price of lone cup coffee, honorable madam? I am not tramp-handler but destitute life form.
Addyerтs opportunity came the next day. The O.K. Bus Co. pulled in as usual. Another crowd assembled to board the bus, but this time there were too many. Three people were refused passage. They werenтt in the least annoyed. They stepped back, waved energetically as the bus started, shouted instructions for future reunions and then quietly turned and started off down the street.
Addyer was out of his hotel room like a shot. He followed the trio down the main street, turned left after them onto Fourth Avenue, passed the ruined schoolhouse, passed the demolished telephone building, passed the gutted library, railroad station, Protestant church, Catholic church . . . and finally reached the outskirts of Lyonesse and then open country.
Here he had to be more cautious. It was difficult stalking the spies with so much of the dusky road illuminated by warning lights. He wasnтt suicidal enough to think of hiding in radiation pits. He hung back in an agony of indecision and was at last relieved to see them turn off the broken road and enter the old Baker farmhouse.
уAh-ha!ф said Addyer.
He sat down at the edge of the road on the remnants of a missile and asked himself: уAh-ha what?ф He could not answer, but he knew where to find the answer. He waited until dusk deepened to darkness and then slowly wormed his way forward toward the farmhouse.
It was while he was creeping between the deadly radiation glows and only occasionally butting his head against grave markers that he first became aware of two figures in the night. They were in the barnyard of the Baker place and were performing most peculiarly. One was tall and thin. A man. He stood stock-still, like a lighthouse. Upon occasion he took a slow, stately step with infinite caution and waved an arm in slow motion to the other figure. The second was also a man. He was stocky and trotted jerkily back and forth.
As Addyer approached, he heard the tall man say: уRooo booo fooo mooo hwaaa boo fooo.ф
Whereupon the trotter chattered, уWd-nk-kd-ik-md-pd-ld-nk.ф
Then they both laughed: the tall man like a locomotive, the trotter like a chipmunk. They turned. The trotter rocketed into the house. The tall man drifted in. And that was amazingly that.
уOh-ho,ф said Addyer.
At that moment a pair of hands seized him and lifted him from the ground. Addyerтs heart constricted. He had time for one convulsive spasm before something vague was pressed against his face. As he lost consciousness his last idiotic thought was of telescopes.
Can you spare price of solitary coffee for no-loafing unfortunate, honorable sir? Charity will blessings.
When Addyer awoke he was lying on a couch in a small whitewashed room. A gray-haired gentleman with heavy features was seated at a desk alongside the couch, busily ciphering on bits of paper. The desk was cluttered with what appeared to be intricate timetables. There was a small radio perched on one side.
уL-Listen . . .у Addyer began faintly.
уJust a minute, Mr. Addyer,ф the gentleman said pleasantly. He fiddled with the radio. A glow germinated in the middle of the room over a circular copper plate and coalesced into a girl. She was extremely nude and extremely attractive. She scurried to the desk, patted the gentlemanтs head with the speed of a pneumatic hammer. She laughed and chattered, уWd-nk-tk-ik-Itnk.ф
The gray-haired man smiled and pointed to the door. уGo outside and walk it off,ф he said. She turned and streaked through the door.
уIt has something to do with temporal rates,ф the gentleman said to Addyer. уI donтt understand it. When they come forward theyтve got accumulated momentum.ф He began ciphering again. уWhy in the world did you have to come snooping, Mr. Addyer?ф
уYouтre spies,ф Addyer said. уShe was talking Chinese.ф
уHardly. Iтd say it was French. Early French. Middle fifteenth century.ф
уMiddle fifteenth century!ф Addyer exclaimed.
уThatтs what Iтd say. You begin to acquire an ear for those stepped-up tempos. Just a minute, please.ф
He switched the radio on again. Another glow appeared and solidified into a nude man. He was stout, hairy and lugubrious. With exasperating slowness
he said, уMooo fooo blooo wawww hawww p000.ф
The gray-haired man pointed to the door. The stout man departed in slow motion.
