Public-domain ebook
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Subjects
In: Short Stories·Science-Fiction & Fantasy·Humour
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #64481.
The story opens on a bustling interplanetary hotel, where Harvey, a diminutive, single‑minded scientist obsessed with locating “asteroid‑juncture faults” and the elusive “perp” planet, checks in and immediately fixes his gaze on the blond, blue‑eyed receptionist. Their exchange quickly turns from routine registration to an oddly formal courtship: Harvey declares his lack of humor, his intent to marry, and his fascination with astrology, while the woman, an Oregon chicken‑breeder named Anna Christina Morley, reveals her own desire to escape orthodoxy and raise Plymouth Rock chickens on a future colony. The narrative then shifts to Harvey’s meticulous, almost bureaucratic pursuit of a tiny, atmosphere‑less world he hopes to claim, interspersed with his relentless, humor‑free monologues and the recurring motif of chickens as both a personal ambition and a transactional token.
Written in the punchy, dialogue‑driven style of 1950s pulp magazines, the prose blends hard‑science speculation with romantic banter, all filtered through a voice that is both earnest and oddly detached. Readers who enjoy vintage science‑fiction short stories, especially those that mix space‑faring adventure with quirky personal relationships and a dash of astrological superstition, will find the tale’s off‑beat humor and period‑specific diction appealing. Fans of classic magazine fare, where speculative technology meets everyday concerns like poultry farming, will appreciate the story’s blend of earnest ambition and eccentric character interaction.
The opening · free to read
Harvey was a most unusual little man. A Cosmos-minded man with great singleness of purpose. He could discover asteroid-juncture faults with the greatest of ease, and "perp" planets, too.... But could he find Anna from Oregon who doubted his greatest discovery of all?
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories March 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Just in from a long haul searching for asteroid juncture points, Harvey entered the lobby of the Hotel de Mars and went straight to the registration desk. The woman at the desk, who was blond, and blue-eyed, and inclining to chubbiness, looked at him, smiled. The smile was of such quality that Harvey's singed brown face set into a mold of utter attention.
Finally he let out his breath.
"I want a room," said he, "on the Deimos side."
He attentively studied the cheerful face while she made out slips, accepted his signature, accepted his money. After he had the key, after he had his change, after everything was taken care of, he still stood there. The woman smiled into his seamed eyes.
"Was there something else?"
Harvey said, noting the emptiness of her chubby ring-finger, "Ma'am, I'm an abrupt, outspoken man. I have no sense of humor. Some people like me; some people don't. I make my living moving around the solar system. I've never been rich, but I never have any trouble making money, as much as I want. Now what was your question again?"
Her fingers slowly caressed a yellow pencil.
Her smile was a little strained. She said cautiously, "I thought you wanted something else. What you want to do is talk, isn't it? You're in from a long space-haul, it's lonely out there, men get so they have to talk to a woman, don't they? So you'd like to take me out to dinner? And take me to a show? And take me up to your room to watch Deimos, which happens to shine only into the windows of your room?"
He looked at her.
"I have no sense of humor," he repeated with great patience. "As you grow to know me, you will understand that. It will be no deterrent to our romance, however; I have other qualities."
"Romance?"
"Yes. What I want is you. I'm an abrupt man. My mind makes itself up quickly. In space, one must learn to make quick decisions. That's what I want. You. We'll discuss this at dinner. Please be ready."
He went up to his room, refusing to let the bell hop touch his scarred suitcase. A little man. A man with great singleness of purpose. The blond woman, who was nice, and blue-eyed, and inclining to chubbiness, looked after him blinking. She took care of the next guest. She thought deeply. She decided to go to dinner with the lost, lonely man from outer space.
They ate in the main dining room of the Hotel de Mars (the 'de' being rather a fancy touch.) He did not talk. He ate. Great quantities of Martian food with strange, exotic names. He ordered straight shots of whiskey afterward. Then he talked.
"Now, we were discussing something of importance at the registration desk, ma'am. What was it?"
"Me."
"Fine. I'm glad you remember."
She burst into laughter, then stifled the laugh in horror.
He shook his brown, leathery head. "Laugh, please. Laugh as much as you please. I have no sense of humor, but I think other people should have the opportunity of exercising theirs. I often say things which are funny to others. As for myself, I never laugh. This you will become accustomed to. I'll order you some champagne. Do you enjoy Terra-Frenault '97?"
"Love it," she said, having never had any. She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. "I'm enjoying myself so much. Everything is so unorthodox. I was brought up in Oregon, on my father's chicken ranch. The town people were so orthodox. I came to Mars all alone just to get away from people orthodox. Now that I've become unorthodox myself, one of these days I'm going back to Oregon and teach them to be unorthodox. And of course I'll own a chicken ranch."
He gulped whiskey. He looked at her searchingly from steel-colored eyes that had leather seams around them. "You like chickens?"
"Plymouth Rocks," she said. "They're the most beautiful bird alive. I'll raise Plymouth Rocks."
"Fine," he said. "I'm glad to know this. However, drop the idea of going back to Oregon. We'll be heading for the outer spaces, ma'am."
"Is this why I'm having dinner with you?"
"Yes. To let you know my intentions." He called for the check. "I'm forty years old, ma'am. The time has come to make a permanent home for myself, with a wife and children. For several days I've toyed with the idea of falling in love with someone. What's your astrological sign?"
"Taurus." She looked at him over the champagne, her face wide with a smile that had an almost irrepressible giggle behind it.
"Fine, fine." He threw money on the table and got up. "I'm Pisces. Pisces and Taurus get along very well. This is the reason I fell in love with you, ma'am. What was your name?"
"I want to finish my champagne," she protested, not getting up. "My name is Anna Christina Morley."
He sat down. "Forgive me. I'm an abrupt man. I do things and then they're over. I never linger. As you grow to know me, this will become apparent. But finish your champagne. My kind of woman always speaks her mind. So your name is Anna Christina Morley. A very unusual name. A numerological breakdown would no doubt show you to be a strong, a firm, an idealistic woman. I am a fortunate man. Have you finished your champagne?"
"I guess so," she sighed. She got up and took her cape that had the twinkling little bells on it, and that changed color every five minutes on the second, and that told time. "Where are we going?"
"I'll take you back to your room," he said, "and say good night."
She was beautiful in the overhead sparkling lights of the dining room. Something caught her sharply in the solar plexus as he spoke.
"Why?" she said forlornly.
His singed eyebrows came up. "Why? My purpose is accomplished. You know my intentions. Now I must go out and prepare. I'll be leaving for outer space within the hour. I'll be back in ten months."
He took her to the door of her room. "Good night, Anna," he said.
She stopped him. Her heart was beating too hard. There was in her a sharp emptiness, a terrific sense of frustration. "Kiss me," she said wearily. "You said you were in love with me, so we might as well get that much acquainted."
"I am in love with you," he said. He immediately took her into his arms, kissing her long and hard. Then he released her, looking strangely into her eyes. "Anna," he said, "I shall be back in ten months. I know you'll be here." He went down the stairs. She went into her room. She sat on the edge of the bed. Then she threw herself on the bed and cried, hard, angry sobs. Why had she allowed him to ruin what could have been such a splendid evening? She kicked her shoes off. They hit the wall with two walloping thumps. She lay on her back and laughed at the ceiling with tears coming out of her eyes. What an evening. An evening as strange, as abortive, as cruel as the man who had cut it off so suddenly.
Her eyes snapped open then. She felt something happen inside her, a longing as wide and deep as black space. "Oh no," she said in a tone that was low and explosive. She slowly turned on her side, sniffling.
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