Rough check, he had said!
Ma answered. «That’s rough enough for us. Gives us time for a walk and what are we waiting for?»
«For the ceremony, Ma,» I told her. «We got to name the place, don’t we? And where did you put that bottle of champagne we were saving for my birthday? I reckon this is a more important occasion.»
She told me where, and I went and got it.
«Got any suggestions for a name, Johnny?» I asked. «You saw it first.»
«No, sir.»
I said, «Trouble is that Thor and Freda are wrong now. I mean, Thor is Sirius I and Freda is Sirius II, and this orbit is inside theirs, so they ought to be ‘two’ and ‘three’ respectively. Or else this ought to be Sirius O. Which means it’s Nothing Sirius.»
Ellen smiled, and I think Johnny would have except that it would have been undignified, while Ma just grunted. «William —» she began, and would have gone on in that vein if something hadn’t happened.
Something looked up over the top of the nearest hill. Ma was the only one facing that way and she let out a whoop and grabbed me. Then we all turned and looked. It was the head of something that looked like an ostrich, only it must have been bigger than an elephant. Also there was a collar and a blue polka-dot bow tie around the thin neck of the critter, and it wore a hat. The hat was bright yellow and had a long purple feather. The thing looked at us a minute, winked quizzically and then pulled its head back.
None of us said anything for a minute, and then I took a deep breath.
«That,» I said, «tears it. Planet, I dub thee Nothing Sirius.»
I bent down and hit the champagne bottle against the clay; but it just dented the clay and wouldn’t break. I tried again and looked around for a rock to hit it on. There wasn’t any rock.
I took out a corkscrew from my pocket and opened the bottle instead. We all had a drink except Johnny, who doesn’t drink or smoke. Me, I had a good long one. Then I poured a brief libation on the ground and recorked the bottle. I had a hunch I might need it again, and maybe need it worse than the planet did. There was lots of whiskey in the ship and some Martian greenbrew, but no more champagne.
I said, «Well, here we go.»
I caught Johnny’s eye and he said, «Do you think it wise, sir, in view of the fact that there are — uh — inhabitants?»
«Inhabitants?» I interrupted him. «Johnny, whatever that thing that stuck its head over the hill was, it wasn’t an inhabitant. And if it pops up again, I’ll conk it with this bottle.»
But just the same, before we started out I went inside the Chitterling and got a couple more heatojectors. I stuck one in my belt and gave Ellen the other. Ellen’s a better shot than I am, but Ma couldn’t hit the side of an administration building at ten paces with a spraygun, so I didn’t give her one.
We started off, and sort of by mutual consent, we went the other direction from where we’d seen the whatever-it-was. The hills all looked alike for a while and as soon as we were over the first one, we were out of sight of the Chitterling. I noticed Johnny looking at his wrist-compass every couple of minutes, and knew he’d know the way home.
Nothing happened for three hills and then Ma said, «Look,» and we looked.
About twenty yards off to our left there was a purple bush. There was a buzzing sound coming from it. The buzzing sound came from a lot of things that were flying around the bush. They looked like birds until you looked a second time and then you saw that their wings weren’t moving. But they zoomed up and down and around just the same. I tried to look at their heads, but where their heads ought to be there was just a blur. A circular blur.
«They got propellers,» Ma said. «Like old-fashioned airships used to have.»
It did look that way.
I looked at Johnny and he looked at me, and we started over toward that bush. But the birds, or whatever, flew away quick, the minute we took a step. They skimmed off low to the ground, and were out of sight in a minute.
We started off again, none of us saying anything, and Ellen came up and walked alongside me. We were just far enough ahead to be out of earshot, and she said, «Pop —»
And didn’t go on with it until I answered, «What, kid?»
«Nothing,» she replied sorrowful-like. «Skip it.»
So of course I knew what she’d wanted to talk about, but I couldn’t think of anything helpful to say except to cuss out Mars Polytech and that wouldn’t have done any good. Mars Polytech has one trouble only. It’s too darned good for its own good, and so are its ramrods of graduates. After a dozen years or so outside, though, some of them manage to unbend and limber up.
But Johnny hadn’t been out that long, by eleven years or so. The chance to pilot the Chitterling had been a break for him, of course, as his first job. A few years with us and he’d be qualified to skipper something bigger. He’d qualify to jump up there a lot faster than if he’d had to start in as a minor officer on a bigger ship.
Only trouble was that he was too good-looking and didn’t know it. He didn’t know anything they hadn’t taught him at Polytech and all they’d taught him there was math and astrogation and how to salute, and they hadn’t taught him how not to.
«Ellen —» I started to say.
«Yes, Pop?»
«Uh — nothing. Skip it.» I hadn’t meant to say that at all, but suddenly she grinned at me, and I grinned back, and it was just like we’d talked the whole thing over. True, we hadn’t got anywhere, but then we wouldn’t have even if we had, if you know what I mean, and I don’t think you do.
So just then we came to the top of a small rise, and Ellen and I stopped because just ahead of us was the blank end of a paved street.
An ordinary, every day plastipaved street just like you’d see in any city on Earth, with curb and sidewalk and gutters and the painted traffic-line down the middle. Only it ran out to nowhere, where we stood, and, at least until it went over the top of the next rise, there wasn’t a house or a vehicle or a creature on it.
I looked at Ellen and she looked at me, and then we both looked at Ma and Johnny Lane, who had just caught up to us. I said, «What is it, Johnny?»
«It seems to be a street, sir.»
He caught the look I was giving him and flushed a little. He bent over and examined the paving closely, and when he straightened up his eyes were even more surprised. I queried, «Well, what is it, caramel icing?»
«It’s permaplast, sir. We aren’t the discoverers of this planet, because that stuff’s an Earth product.»
«Um,» I sort of mumbled, «Couldn’t the natives here have discovered the same process? The same — uh — ingredients might be available.»
«Yes, sir. But the blocks are trade-marked, if you’ll look closely.»
I replied, «Couldn’t the natives have —» Then I shut up because even I saw how silly that was. But it’s tough to think your party has discovered a new planet and then have Earth-trademarked paving bricks on the first street you come to. «But what’s a street doing here at all?» I wanted to know.
«There’s only one way to find out,» said Ma. «So what are we standing here for?»
So we pushed on, and on the next rise we saw a building. A two-story red brick with a sign on it that read. «Bon Ton Restaurant.» It was in Old English script lettering.
I said, «I’ll be a —» But Ma clapped her hand over my mouth before I could finish, which was maybe just as well for what I’d been going to say had been quite inadequate. There was the building only a hundred yards ahead, facing us at a sharp turn in the street.
I started walking faster, and I got there first by a few paces. I opened the door, and started to walk in. Then I stopped cold on the doorstep, because there wasn’t any «in» to that building. It was a false front, like a cinema setting, and all you could see through the door was more of those rolling, greenish hills.