"Since when did you get so interested in the visitors?" asked Sally.
"I don't rightly know," Stuffy told her. "I guess it was from the very start, when this batch first sat down. You might say I was sort of involved with them. There was this girl writer from down in Minneapolis and that first night, I held the phone for her so she could talk to her editor when she got back and then I was the one who brought word to her when the second batch landed. I was sleeping off a drunk this side of the river and saw them coming down and right away I told myself she would want to know. It didn't seem right to me that I should go pounding at her door in the middle of the night, an old reprobate like me. I thought she might be mad at me. But I went and done it anyhow and she wasn't mad at me. She gave me ten dollars later on. She and that camera fellow she had along with her, they were real nice people."
"Yes, they were," said Sally. "So were all the newspaper and TV people. It seems a little strange that they now are gone. Of course, there are still a lot of people coming to see the baby visitors. Sometimes they go down to see the others, too. But these people aren't like the news people. They're just sightseers. Drop in for a cup of coffee and a doughnut, once in a while a sandwich, but they don't come for meals and they never tip. I suppose that in a little place like this, and not buying much, they don't feel there is any need of it."
"At first," said Stuffy, "I went out to see the Visitors, every single day like I've done since they came, telling myself I should keep watch of them so that if anything happened, I could let that girl reporter know. But I don't think that's the reason anymore, not the main reason. I've got so I like to watch them for themselves. Once I told myself they were things from a long way off and that they really shouldn't be here, but it doesn't seem that way now. It's gotten so that they seem just like people to me. I used to be afraid of them, but now I'm not seared of them. I walk right up to them and put out my hand and lay it on their hides and they're not cold, but warm, just like a person's warm."
"If you're going to have breakfast," Norton said to him, "you better tell Sally what you want. I'm way ahead of you."
"You said that you were paying for my breakfast."
"That's what I said."
"Frank, how come that you.
"Well, you might say that I had an impulse that I may be sorry for. If you don't hurry up.
"Then," said Stuffy, "I'll have a stack of cakes with a couple of eggs, sunny side up, dumped on top of them. And if you have some sausages and maybe a piece or two of bacon and a couple of extra pats of butter."
28. SOMEWHERE IN UTAH
The sergeant said to the colonel, "If these pissants of scientists don't get their cameras and them other damn fool instruments set up to their liking pretty soon, the sun will be down and we'll have to scrub this exercise."
"They want everything just right," the colonel told him. "It's got to be right the first time. We don't want to have to make a second try at it. You may not think so, sergeant, but this mission has the highest possible priority. It comes straight from Washington and we can't afford to goof."
"But, Christ, sir, they sight in those cameras and then look through them and then sight them again. They been doing that for hours. They're a pack of fumbling old maids, I tell you. They got that chalk mark on the visitor's tail side and the rifle's sighted in on it. I sighted it myself and I know where it is pointing. The visitor hasn't moved and it still is pointing at the chalk mark. And that's another thing, why for Christ's sake, a rifle? Why not something a little heavier? You're not going to tell much bouncing a.3o-caliber bullet off that big a mass. It won't do more than fickle it."
"Frankly, sergeant," said the colonel, "I've wondered about that myself. But that's what the orders say. They are most specific — a.30 caliber from a hundred yards. That and nothing else. It's got to be a.30 caliber from a hundred yards and the cameras and the other instruments must be positioned to the satisfaction of these gentlemen.
The colonel broke off what he was saying when he saw that one of the scientists who had been fiddling with the cameras was walking toward them.
"Colonel," said the man, when he came up to them, "you may proceed with the firing. Before you fire, however, be sure that personnel is at a distance of at least two hundred yards. We suspect that there may be considerable back blast."
"I hope," the sergeant said, "that the electronic gadget fixed up to fire the piece will work."
The man said, unperturbed, "I am sure it will."
"Now, sergeant," the colonel said, sharply, "if you will the men out. We want to wrap this up as soon as possible."
The sergeant moved off, started shouting orders.
The scientist asked a technician, "The cameras are ready?"
"They'll start running with the signal that fires the rifle," said the technician. "There's so damn much film involved. Those cameras eat it up."
"Colonel," said the scientist, "it's time for us to move out with the rest of them."
The visitor stood as it had stood for hours, motionless in the midst of the sandy waste. The cross made in chalk shone dully against the blackness of its hide.
"What beats the hell out of me," said the colonel, "is how it has stood there all this time with us fooling around to set up the shoot. Doesn't it know we're here?"
"I'm sure it does," said the scientist. "My feeling is that it simply doesn't care. I would suspect it has some contempt of us."
Finally, the scientist halted his walking and turned about, the colonel turning with him.
"Sergeant," yelled the colonel, "is the area cleared?" The sergeant bawled back. "It's all cleared, sir."
The sergeant nodded to the man from Washington, who raised the tiny instrument he had been carrying in his hand and made a pressing motion with his thumb.
The rifle spat and the visitor spat back with a flood of raging energy that engulfed the mounted rifle. The colonel threw up an arm to shield his eyes against the brilliance of the flare. When he took it down, he saw that the rifle and the mount on which it had been positioned had turned into a shimmering whiteness from the heat. The whole assembly was slowly sagging to the ground. A clump of nearby sagebrush flared to floating ash.