“There you have the confession, Halsyon,” General Balorsen grated. He was tall, gaunt, bitter. “By God. Ars est celare artem. You are innocent.”
“I falsely condemned you, old faithful,” Judge Field grated. He was tall, gaunt, bitter. “Can you forgive this God damn fool? We apologize.”
“We wronged you, Jeff,” Judith whispered. “How can you ever forgive us? Say you forgive us.” /
“You’re sorry for the way you treated me,” Halsyon grated. “But it’s only because on account of a mysterious mutant strain in my makeup which k makes me different, I’m the one man with the one secret that can save the galaxy from the Grssh.”
“No, no, no, old gin & tonic,” General Balorsen pleaded. “God damn. Don’t hold grudges. Save us from the Grssh.”
“Save us, faute de mieux, save us, Jeff,” Judge Field put in.
“Oh please, Jeff, please,” Judith whispered. s The Grssh are everywhere and coming closer. We re taking you to the U. N. You must tell the council how to stop the Grssh from being in two places at the same time.”
The starship came out of overdrive and landed on Governor’s Island where a delegation of world dignitaries met the ship and rushed Halsyon to the General Assembly room of the U. N. They drove down the strangely rounded streets lined with strangely rounded buildings which had all been altered when it was discovered that the Grssh always appeared in corners. There was not a corner or an angle left on all Terra.
The General Assembly was filled when Halsyon eptered. Hundreds of tall, gaunt, bitter diplomats applauded as he made his way to the podium, still dressed in convict plasti-clothes. Halsyon looked around resentfully.
“Yes,” he grated. “You all applaud. You all revere me now; but where were you when I was framed, convicted and jailed… an innocent man? Where were you then?”
“Halsyon, forgive us. God damn!” they shouted.
“I will not forgive you. I suffered for seventeen years in the Grssh mines. Now it’s your turn to suffer.”
“Please, Halsyon!”
“Where are your experts? Your professors? Your specialists? Where are your electronic calculators? Your super thinking machines? Let them solve the mystery of the Grssh.”
“They can't, old whiskey & sour. Entre nous. They're stopped cold. Save us, Halsyon. Auf wiedersehen.”
Judith took his arm. “Not for my sake, Jeff," she whispered. “I know you’ll never forgive me for the injustice I did you. But for the sake of all the other girls in the Galaxy who love and are loved.”
“I still love you, Judy.”
“I’ve always loved you, Jeff.”
“Okay. I didn’t want to tell them but you talked me into it.” Halsyon raised his hand for silence. In the ensuing hush he spoke softly. “The secret is this, gentlemen. Your calculators have assembled data to ferret out the secret weakness of the Grssh. They have not been able to find any. Consequently you have assumed that the Grssh have no secret weakness. That was a wrong assumption.”
The General Assembly held its breath.
“Here is the secret. You should have assumed there was something tvrong with the calculators.”
“God damn!” the General Assembly cried. “Why didn’t we think of that? God damn!”
“And I know what's wrong!”
There was a deathlike hush.
The door of the General Assembly burst open. Professor Deathhush, tall, gaunt, bitter, tottered in. “Eureka!” he cried. “I’ve found it. God damn. Something wrong with the thinking machines. Three comes after two, not before.”
The General Assembly exploded into cheers. Professor Deathhush was seized and pummeled happily. Bottles were opened. His health was drunk. Several medals were pinned on him. He beamed.
“Hey!” Halsyon called. “That was my secret. I’m the one man who on account of a mysterious mutant strain in my — ”
The ticker-tape began pounding: attention, attention, hushenkov in moscow reports defect in calculators. 3 comes after 2 and not before. repeat: after not before.
A postman ran in. “Special delivery from Doctor Lifehush at Caltech. Says something’s wrong with the thinking machines. Three comes after two, not before.”
A telegraph boy delivered a wire: thinking machine wrong stop two comes before three stop not after stop. von dreamhush, heidelberg.
A bottle was thrown through the window. It crashed on the floor revealing a bit of paper on which was scrawled: Did you ever stopp to thinc that maibe the nomber 1 comes after 2 insted of in front? Down with the Grish. Mr. Hush-Hush.
Halsyon buttonholed Judge Field. “What the hell is this?” he demanded. “I thought I was the one man in the world with that secret.”
“HimmelHerrGott!” Judge Field replied impatiently. “You are all alike. You dream you are the one men with a secret, the one men with a wrong, the one men with an injustice, with a girl, without a girl, with or without anything. God damn. You bore me, you one-man dreamers. Get lost.”
Judge Field shouldered him aside. General Balorsen shoved him back. Judith Field ignored him. Balorsen ’s robot sneakily tripped him into a corner where a Grssh, also in a corner on Neptune, appeared, did something unspeakable to Halsyon and disappeared with him, screaming, jerking and sobbing into a horror that was a delicious meal for the Grssh but an agonizing nightmare for Halsyon…
4
From which his mother awakened him and said, “This’ll teach you not to sneak peanut-butter sandwiches in the middle of the night, Jeffrey.” “Mama?”
“Yes. It’s time to get up, dear. You’ll be late for school.”
She left the room. He looked around. He looked at himself. It was true. True ! The glorious realization came upon him. His dream had come true. He was ten years old again, in the flesh that was his ten-year-old body, in the home that was his boyhood home, in the life that had been his life in the nineteen thirties. And within his head was the knowledge, the experience, the sophistication of a man of thirty- three.
“Oh joy!” he cried. “It’ll be a triumph. A triumph!”
He would be the school genius. He would astonish his parents, amaze his teachers, confound the experts. He would win scholarships. He would settle the hash of that kid Rennahan who used to bully him. He would hire a typewriter and write all the successful plays and stories and novels he remembered. He would cash in on that lost opportunity with Judy Field behind the memorial in Isham Park. He would steal inventions, discoveries, get in on the ground floor of new industries, make bets, play the stockmarket. He would own the world by the time he caught up with himself.
He dressed with difficulty. He had forgotten where his clothes were kept. He ate breakfast with difficulty. This was no time to explain to his mother that he’d gotten into the habit of starting the day with coffee laced with rye. He missed his morning cigarette. He had no idea where his schoolbooks were. His mother had trouble starting him out.
“Jeff’s in one of his moods,” he heard her mutter. “I hope he gets through the day.”
The day started with Rennahan laying for him on the corner opposite the Boy’s Entrance. Halsyon remembered him as a big tough kid with a vicious expression. He was astonished to discover that Rennahan was skinny, harassed and obviously compelled by some bedevilments to be omnivor-, ously aggressive.
“Why, you're not hostile to me,” Halsyon exclaimed. “You’re just a mixed-up kid who's trying to prove something.”
Rennahan punched him.
“Look, kid,” Halsyon said kindly. “You really want to be friends with the world. You're just insecure. That’s why you’re compelled to fight,”
Rennahan was deaf to spot analysis. He punched Halsyon harder. It hurt.