“When you explain everything to them, could you find out if they ever built a monument to me?”
“What?” Gromozeka was surprised.
“Is there or is there not a statue to us along with one to Purr?” Alice repeated. “We are the ones who saved them, after all.”
Gromozeka laughed, but he did not answer.
The dispatcher on duty met his guest in the central control chamber. He turned out to be a small man, only a little taller than Alice, and he looked a lot like engineer Tolo. On catching sight of Gromozeka he gasped and stepped back several paces, but he quickly came to grips with his fear and tried to laugh.
“We’re from the planet Earth.” Gromozeka said, by way of greeting. “As well as from other planets of the Galactic Federation, which I suspect you will shortly be entering. We would like to apologize for having been on your planet without permission, but such things do happen.
“What I can’t understand is how you managed to set down right next to a major city and no one even noticed you?”
“Not only did we land,” Gromozeka said, “We even managed to spend half a year working on your planet.”
“Doing what?”
“We are archaeologists. We managed to determine just what it was that exterminated all life on your planet.”
“But nothing has exterminated all life on our planet.” The dispatcher said. “Are you joking?”
“Not in the least.” Gromozeka said. “Tell me, does this girl look at all familiar to you, from anywhere…” He pointed to Alice.
“No. Not at all.” The dispatcher answered.
“Now that is odd.” Alice said.
“She spent some time on your planet, only a long time ago.”
“When?”
“About a hundred years back.”
“You’re speaking in riddles.” The dispatcher said. “And if this is a joke, its very strange.”
“A hundred years ago,” Gromozeka continued, “your first space ship returned to the planet, didn’t it?”
“Certainly.” The dispatcher said. “We celebrated the centenary of the event just this last year.”
“But weren’t there any odd events or happenings right at the moment when the ship returned to Coleida?”
“No.” The dispatcher said. “Everything proceeded uneventfully. Since then the day has been celebrated as a holiday.”
“And yet I insist that right on that day at precisely that moment this little girl, whose name happens to be Alice by the way, was at the space port and even saved your planet from total annihilation.”
“And they even put me in jail.” Alice interjected.
The dispatcher sighed heavily, as thought he were tired of listening to the ravings of his insane visitors.
“He doesn’t believe us.” Gromozeka said. “They will not believe either of us, Alice. But tell me, do you have a library on board?”
“Why?”
“There might be a history book in it.”
“Oh well…” The dispatcher shrugged his shoulders. “Wait a moment.”
He pressed a button on the control panel, a wall panel slide aside and revealed shelves with books. The dispatcher took down one of the books.
“Is there a description in here of the return from space of the first astronauts?” Gromozeka asked.
“Just a minute.” The dispatcher said. He was leafing through the book.
“Read it.” Gromozeka said. In expectation of pleasure he even swept his tentacles over the traffic satellite’s smooth floor.
“‘And then the ship appeared.’“ The dispatcher read.
“Continue, further.” Gromozeka pressed him on, looking over the little man’s shoulder. “There.” He tapped a line of print with the tip of a claw.
“‘The holiday was capped by the curious actions of one of the girls,’“ the dispatcher read, “‘who ran forward and doused the returning astronauts with perfume. Her name has remained unknown.’“
“Is that all?” Alice asked.
“That’s all.”
“That was me. Only there weren’t any perfumes involved. It was a vaccine.”
At this point Gromozeka came to realize that the dispatcher’s patience had completely run out. He said:
“It’s a joke on history. We shall have to have a long and serious discussion. I am therefore informing you officially that my ship requests the permission of Coleida’s authorities to land at a space port convenient to you. I will speak no further riddles to you, and I will provide a complete explanation to representatives of your government.
“If you’ll wait a while, I’ll find out which space ports have landing pads free.” The dispatcher said with relief.
But then Alice and Gromozeka were walking back toward their ship, Gromozeka tapped Alice lightly on the shoulder with one of his claws, and said:
“Don’t be disappointed. Maybe they’ll still erect a statue to you on this planet.”
“I don’t need a statue.” Alice said. “What matters is that they remained alive and healthy.”
Alice grew silent for a moment. Then she added:
“It is a shame the history books say I doused them with perfume.”
“History only records what was thought to be most important at the time it was recorded,” Gromozeka said. “but what really matters may take a long time to surface in people’s memories.”
End
The Rusty Field-Marshal
Chapter One: News of Future Days
In the morning the alarm clock stood on tiptoe and looked out the window. It could easily enough remember the weather predictions, but it would certainly do not harm to check for itself. If you failed to study the weather you might err in awakening your human.
The alarm clock saw: beyond the window the wind was blowing, rustling the leaves on the birches; quick grey clouds ran across the sky. But there was no ran ordered for today. So the computer logged on to the household computer and requested the following data: which lessons did Alice have today at school it was important to learn if they were subjects Alice loved or just the ones she endured. Next, what was the houserobot making for breakfast this morning? Had Alice argued with one of her friends yesterday?
These were not empty questions. The alarm clock had to know: just how should he awaken his mistress today?
In the end the information was gathered. It turned out that Alice could endure gloomy weather. There were no lessons planned for today, as the Summer vacations had started, the house robot was preparing Hercules, the breakfast of Heroes, which Alice really couldn’t stand, but with cherry milk, which Alice loved. Yesterday Alice had not quarreled with anyone, unless you counted the purely scientific dispute with Arkasha Sapozhkov and the disturbance with Pashka Geraskin, who immediately after school had rushed off to Equador because he had euchred a secret treasure map from a neighboring class, the key to a hoard gathered in 1560 by the Conquistador Juan de la Monta¤a, but he returned home covered with scrapes and mosquito bites only at eleven o’clock at night and, naturally, without any treasure hoard.
Having considered and weighed all the information, the alarm clock returned its attention to Alice and played on the flute the opening strains of Vaughan Williams’ “The Lark Ascending”
“He rises and begins to round
he drops the silver chain of sound
Of many links without break
In chirrup, whistle, slur and shake….”
As precisely that melody which it deemed most appropriate for awakening Alice.
As the notes died away Alice opened her eyes, stretched her arms and thought: “Why do I feel so good now?” The alarm clock registered her mood and laughed internally, as it was not designed to laugh externally.
Alice got out of bed and opened the window, did her morning exercises and headed for the bathroom. The alarm clock, satisfied and smug, went to sleep until the next morning.