Public-domain ebook
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In: Science-Fiction & Fantasy·Novels·American Literature
Public-domain ebook sourced from Project Gutenberg #65347.
The opening · free to read
Ted really loved his wife, but somehow the blonde next door kept popping into his dreams--and making them a vivid reality....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy September 1951 Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
El outer-thought, "I've had all I want of it, haven't you?"
Nothing from Bee for seconds, and then: "I--don't know. I suppose. You've been inner-thinking, El. You've been brooding?"
"I've been brooding. When did our bodies go, Bee?"
"When Lust was killed. I think we made a mistake, El. I think, at the time, we were bemused. He wasn't the best of the gods, but he had his points. We've been inner-thinking alike, dear. This plane isn't enough. But what--" Silence.
She thought, "Over the hills? This isn't all of our land. There are people in Valdora."
"Not--the kind of people I want to be. And how about the others, how about the Assembly? Will they feel as we do?"
"Why not? Don't they miss the colors they can't see, the grass they can't smell, the streams they can't hear? Weren't they human, too, once?"
"They were. And perhaps they think as we do. But they won't project anyone to Valdora. We don't want any part of that town. However, dear, I'll bring it up. If I had a belly, I'd have a bellyful of this."
In the glade they couldn't see, above the stream they couldn't hear, the Assembly met.
"New business?" the Peak thought.
"I've some," Bee thought. "It's--it may be mutiny."
"We'll listen," Peak answered. "Speaking for myself, and myself alone, I'm ready to listen to mutiny. So long as it doesn't involve Valdora. I wouldn't be surprised if the others agree. Could it concern the resurrection of a minor god who grew major?"
"Lust," Bee agreed. "I want a body."
Peak was silent as the affirmative thoughts poured in from the entire assembly. Then Peak thought, "I'm sure we won't need a vote on that. And how would we resurrect Lust?"
"Not by importing Valdorans," Bee answered.
"Nor Velugians," someone thought.
"Nor any of the others," Peak summed up for them. "So--...."
The scientist Lern thought, "Is this the only planet in the galaxy? Why confine our thinking?"
"Not that bloody Mars," Peak thought. "I'll veto that, every time."
"Earth?" Bee suggested. "What's wrong with Earth?"
Ha thought, "It would take too long to answer that one. From what I've heard of it, they're less ardent than arduous. How many lovers have they developed? Major league lovers, that is."
Bee protested, "One could be developed. The material's there, and the planet's attainable. I say let's project one of us in some innocent guise, some animal who talks the language."
"But who'd volunteer?" Lern wanted to know.
"No volunteers," Peak decided. "Ha will go, to improve his education. What he doesn't know about Earth needs knowing."
Lern thought, "How can we keep him minor, if we resurrect him? This Lust has a terrible appetite."
"That," answered Peak, "will be your job. You'll have to think of something that will keep his weight and power constant."
Ha was doing no outer-thinking; Ha was inner-thinking about Earth, and bodies.
Ted Truesdale was sitting on the back porch, supposedly enjoying the sun. He was, in reality, enjoying the view. The blonde who'd bought the house directly behind them, and considerably below them, was out on her patio.
She was enjoying the sun. She wore a skimpy halter and a pair of shorts that were. She was well oiled and lying on her stomach. The tan of her shoulders and along the back of her legs was a fine wheat brown and she was due to turn over.
Ted was not lascivious, though Ann Truesdale had frequently stated he almost was. Ted, to put it honestly, was thirty-nine and worrying about the forties. It didn't seem logical that he would feel any different at forty than he had at thirty-nine. He'd noticed no change between thirty-nine and sixteen; he was a healthy man.
But there were so many stories about the forties--and the fifties followed them so closely.
Now, the blonde was about to turn over. She had one hand, palm downward, on the blanket beneath her and--
And from the doorway, Ann Truesdale said, "Theodore Truesdale, you licentious old man. I never realized why you sat out--"
He turned to face his wife. His voice was a model of outraged innocence. "For heaven's sake, Ann--"
She sighed, staring at him. She was small and dark and well put together, and didn't look at all like a woman who could devote every conscious hour to the house. But she was.
"Ogling," she said.
"Oh, Ann--you'd think I was--" He shook his head.
"You are. Infidelity can be mental, I read somewhere."
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