Read Online No Life of Their Own: And Other Stories (The Complete Short Fiction of Clifford D. Simak Book 5) by Clifford D. Simak - Free Book Online
Authors: Clifford D. Simak
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what he had, with Nature Boy’s Pa and Butch’s Pa and all the rest of those alien people standing there before us. But it sure-God was the truth, and they needed it right then, and Pa was the one who was not afraid to give it to them right between the eyes.
Then someone spoke up from the crowd and there were so many of them I couldn’t be sure exactly who it was. But whoever it was said: “I tell you, folks, it was nothing but plain justice when Andy’s barn burned down.”
The sheriff bristled up. “If I thought one of you had a hand in that, I would—”
“You wouldn’t do a thing,” said Pa. He turned to me. “All right, Steve, tell us what you have to tell. I promise you that everyone will listen and there won’t be any interruptions.”
He looked straight at the sheriff when he was saying it.
“Just a second, sir,” said Butch’s Pa. “I want to voice one important point. I know this boy can see the halflings, for I myself am the one who made the glasses for him. I know it is immodest of me to say a thing like this, but if I am nothing else, I am one fine optician.”
“Thank you, sir,” Pa said. “And now, Steve, go ahead.”
But I never got a chance to say a single word, for Butch came stumbling around the barn and he had the gun with him. Or at least I took it for the gun, although it didn’t look like one. It was a sticklike thing and it glittered in the sunlight from all sorts of prisms and mirrors set into it at all kinds of crazy angles.
“Pa,” yelled Butch, “I heard about it and I brought the gun. I hope I’m not too late.”
He ran up to his Pa and his Pa took the gun away from him and held it with everyone looking at him.
“Thank you, son,” said Butch’s Pa. “It was good of you, but we won’t need a gun. We aren’t shooting anything today.”
Then Butch cried out: “There he is, Pa! There’s Nature Boy!”
I am not too sure that all of them believed I had found Nature Boy. Some might have had their reservations, and kept quiet about it because they didn’t want to tangle with my Pa. But Butch was a different matter. He could see these things without any silly glasses. And he was an alien, and everyone expected aliens to do these sort of crazy things.
“All right,” admitted the sheriff, “so I guess he must be there. Now what do we do?”
“There doesn’t seem to be much to go on,” said Pa, “but we can’t leave the boy in there.” He looked at Nature Boy’s Pa. “Don’t you worry. We’ll figure a way to get him out.”
But he spoke with so much confidence that I knew he was only talking so that Nature Boy’s Pa would know we weren’t giving up.
Personally, I could see no hope. If you couldn’t get him out the way he had gotten in, there didn’t seem to be any other way. There were no doors into that other place.
“Gentlemen,” said Butch’s Pa, “I have a small idea.”
We all turned and waited.
“This gun,” he said, “is used to keep down the number of halflings. It ruptures the wall between the two worlds sufficiently to let a bullet through. There might be an adaptation made of it, and we can do that later, or have someone do it for us, if that be necessary. But it seems possible to me we could use the gun itself.”
“But we don’t want to shoot the boy,” the sheriff protested. “What we want to do is get him out.”
“I have no intention, sir, of shooting him. There will be no bullet in the gun. All we’ll use is the device to rupture the curtain or whatever it may be that lies between the worlds. And I can—what is the word?—tinker, I believe. I can tinker up the gun so that rupture will be greater.”
He sat down on the ground and began working on the gun, shifting prisms here and there and adjusting tiny mirrors.
“There is just one thing,” he said. “The rupture will last for but a moment. The boy must be immediate to take advantage of it. He must leap outward instantly the rupture should appear.”
He
Then someone spoke up from the crowd and there were so many of them I couldn’t be sure exactly who it was. But whoever it was said: “I tell you, folks, it was nothing but plain justice when Andy’s barn burned down.”
The sheriff bristled up. “If I thought one of you had a hand in that, I would—”
“You wouldn’t do a thing,” said Pa. He turned to me. “All right, Steve, tell us what you have to tell. I promise you that everyone will listen and there won’t be any interruptions.”
He looked straight at the sheriff when he was saying it.
“Just a second, sir,” said Butch’s Pa. “I want to voice one important point. I know this boy can see the halflings, for I myself am the one who made the glasses for him. I know it is immodest of me to say a thing like this, but if I am nothing else, I am one fine optician.”
“Thank you, sir,” Pa said. “And now, Steve, go ahead.”
But I never got a chance to say a single word, for Butch came stumbling around the barn and he had the gun with him. Or at least I took it for the gun, although it didn’t look like one. It was a sticklike thing and it glittered in the sunlight from all sorts of prisms and mirrors set into it at all kinds of crazy angles.
“Pa,” yelled Butch, “I heard about it and I brought the gun. I hope I’m not too late.”
He ran up to his Pa and his Pa took the gun away from him and held it with everyone looking at him.
“Thank you, son,” said Butch’s Pa. “It was good of you, but we won’t need a gun. We aren’t shooting anything today.”
Then Butch cried out: “There he is, Pa! There’s Nature Boy!”
I am not too sure that all of them believed I had found Nature Boy. Some might have had their reservations, and kept quiet about it because they didn’t want to tangle with my Pa. But Butch was a different matter. He could see these things without any silly glasses. And he was an alien, and everyone expected aliens to do these sort of crazy things.
“All right,” admitted the sheriff, “so I guess he must be there. Now what do we do?”
“There doesn’t seem to be much to go on,” said Pa, “but we can’t leave the boy in there.” He looked at Nature Boy’s Pa. “Don’t you worry. We’ll figure a way to get him out.”
But he spoke with so much confidence that I knew he was only talking so that Nature Boy’s Pa would know we weren’t giving up.
Personally, I could see no hope. If you couldn’t get him out the way he had gotten in, there didn’t seem to be any other way. There were no doors into that other place.
“Gentlemen,” said Butch’s Pa, “I have a small idea.”
We all turned and waited.
“This gun,” he said, “is used to keep down the number of halflings. It ruptures the wall between the two worlds sufficiently to let a bullet through. There might be an adaptation made of it, and we can do that later, or have someone do it for us, if that be necessary. But it seems possible to me we could use the gun itself.”
“But we don’t want to shoot the boy,” the sheriff protested. “What we want to do is get him out.”
“I have no intention, sir, of shooting him. There will be no bullet in the gun. All we’ll use is the device to rupture the curtain or whatever it may be that lies between the worlds. And I can—what is the word?—tinker, I believe. I can tinker up the gun so that rupture will be greater.”
He sat down on the ground and began working on the gun, shifting prisms here and there and adjusting tiny mirrors.
“There is just one thing,” he said. “The rupture will last for but a moment. The boy must be immediate to take advantage of it. He must leap outward instantly the rupture should appear.”
He
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