While they were gone, however, the paraphernalia of the next tent (that of Omar, the Trussmocker), was delivered to theirs by mistake, and when they returned they were horrified to discover that their robot was laden with barbells and other weights of enormous tonnage.
“Max!” gasped Harold, “we can’t lift up the lid to get at the starting switch!”
“Heavens,” Max groaned, “you’re right!”
“Say,” said a man in the crowd which had come to see the robot, “ain’t that thing gonna play poker for us?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Max, indicating the weighted-down lid. “We can’t get at the starting switch.”
“Can’t you do it by strength alone?” asked the man.
“Nope,” said Harold, sadly. “It’s going to take jacks or better to open.”
As most people know, the first man to fly was called Icarus, who should have had more sense. He and his father escaped from jail on an island (men of Alcatraz take note) by the expedient of attaching feathers to their arms with beeswax (it sounds reckless, I know, but this was before cellophane tape), and flapped away into the skies.
Well, everything was going fine till Icarus, who was a little dopey, decided to take a look at the sun, up close. Naturally, the beeswax began to melt and dribble away, and he began to lose his feathers.
“Say, son,” his father observed, flapping down where it was cooler, “your topside is dripping. You’d better flip over on your back and come lower, so’s the wax’ll get hard again.”
But Icarus said no, and flew still higher, till the wax began running like water, the feathers fluttered away and Icarus plunged down toward the ocean, his right “wing” completely gone.
“Son,” said his father, “are you falling?”
Icarus replied, “It’s a matter of a pinion, Dad.”
“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, son,” said his father as Icarus vanished into the sea, “Loop before you leak!”
Moraclass="underline" He who levitates is washed.
This habit was begun in 1357 by a group of five men who felt that they weren’t getting enough out of their diet, which consisted mainly of turnips.
“Say, men,” said the eldest, named George, “we’re just missing something in our nutrition. How about we go and terrorize the countryside and maybe get us something we can really sink our teeth into?”
The others thought this a fine idea, and soon the near-by villages were getting it in the neck.
“My people,” said the Mayor of the largest village, “it’s about time we stop this leeching. That gang’s been putting the bite on us long enough.”
“So okay, so what do we do?” asked the villagers.
“We go out to the mausoleum where they sleep all day, and we try and touch their hearts by pointing out what we have at stake,” he said.
“We’ll hammer the point home,” the villagers agreed.
So they took five sharpened sticks and went out to where the five men were sleeping. Gus, the blacksmith, had brought his hammer and proceeded to open the first of the five coffins and nailed the vampire before he could fly.
“Hurry, Gus,” said the Mayor, “the other four are going batty.”
But Gus came up to him empty-handed. “I’m sorry, Your Honor,” he said, “but I got carried away and used up all five stakes on that first guy.”
“Idiot,” said the Mayor, “look what you’ve done! The other four have flipped their lids and flown the crypt!”
“It’s all my fault,” said Gus, “for putting all my pegs in one casket.”
This was discovered in 1944 by two scientists who were working in their lab on something else entirely. Sam, the younger man, came up to Ted, the older man, and said, “Say, Ted, how you getting on with that circular radio-wave of yours?”
“Not so good, Sam,” said Ted, showing him a diagram. “I’ve devised this thing to carry a magnetic current in a circle, but that’s all the farther I am. I call it a cyclotron.”
“What?” said Sam, abused. “Ten years we’ve been working on this project, and all you have is this diagram? Why, it’s nothing but a circle, a plain old cipher.”
“I never took up drafting,” Ted admitted sadly. “Anyhow, that’s the shape it should be.”
“Years of work, and you draw a cipher,” Sam muttered. “I’ll show you what I think of this diagram!”
And with that, he rolled the blueprint into a cylinder and ran it through the pencil-sharpener, leaving the scraps on the floor.
Immediately an angry crowd of janitors gathered, all of them telling the two scientists what they thought of that litter.
Instantly the building vanished in a white-hot blast, followed by a mushroom-shaped cloud.
And to this day, that’s what happens when you get a critical mass at a ground zero.
For the last item, I was going to give the history of Fallout. I had to save it for last because— Well, look for yourself…
That covers everything, doesn’t it?
FLOWERS FOR ALGERNON
by Daniel Keyes
from Fantasy and Science Fiction
Daniel Keyes is a reformed science-fiction editor (Marvel, some few years ago) turned high-school English teacher. Either of these dubious professions should be enough to keep a sensible man on the spectator’s side of a byline. If he didn’t write the stuff when he could buy it from himself, one might think the rigors of New York City’s blackboard jungle would prevent him from beginning now.
One way and another, it is difficult to believe that this is Keyes’ second published story—much more difficult after reading it than before.
progris riport 1—martch 5, 1965
Dr. Strauss says I shud rite down what I think and evrey thing that happins to me from now on. I dont know why but he says its importint so they will see if they will use me. I hope they use me. Miss Kinnian says maybe they can make me smart. I want to be smart. My name is Charlie Gordon. I am 37 years old and 2 weeks ago was my birthday. I have nuthing more to rite now so I will close for today.
progris riport 2—martch 6
I had a test today. I think I faled it. and I think that maybe now they wont use me. What happind is a nice young man was in the room and he had some white cards with ink spilled all over them. He sed Charlie what do you see on this card. I was very skared even tho I had my rabits foot in my pockit because when I was a kid I always faled tests in school and I spilled ink to.
I told him I saw a inkblot. He said yes and it made me feel good. I thot that was all but when I got up to go he stopped me. He said now sit down Charlie we are not thru yet. Then I dont remember so good but he wantid me to say what was in the ink. I dint see nuthing in the ink but he said there was picturs there other pepul saw some picturs. I coudnt see any picturs. I reely tryed to see. I held the card close up and then far away. Then I said if I had my glases I coud see better I usally only ware my glases in the movies or TV but I said they are in the closit in the hall. I got them. Then I said let me see that card agen I bet Ill find it now.