ADVANCED CHEMISTRY
By Jack G. Huekels
Professor Carbonic was diligently at work in his spacious laboratory, analyzing, mixing and experimenting. He had been employed for more than fifteen years in the same pursuit of happiness, in the same house, same laboratory, and attended by the same servant woman, who in her long period of service had attained the plumpness and respectability of two hundred and ninety pounds.
"Mag Nesia," called the professor. The servant's name was Maggie Nesia--Professor Carbonic had contracted the title to save time, for in fifteen years he had not mounted the heights of greatness; he must work harder and faster as life is short, and eliminate such shameful waste of time as putting the "gie" on Maggie.
"Mag Nesia!" the professor repeated.
The old woman rolled slowly into the room.
"Get rid of these and bring the one the boy brought today."
He handed her a tray containing three dead rats, whose brains had been subjected to analysis.
"Yes, Marse," answered Mag Nesia in a tone like citrate.
The professor busied himself with a new preparation of zinc oxide and copper sulphate and sal ammoniac, his latest concoction, which was about to be used and, like its predecessors, to be abandoned.
Mag Nesia appeared bringing another rat, dead. The professor made no experiments on live animals. He had hired a boy in the neighborhood to bring him fresh dead rats at twenty-five cents per head.
Taking the tray he prepared a hypodermic filled with the new preparation. Carefully he made an incision above the right eye of the carcass through the bone. He lifted the hypodermic, half hopelessly, half expectantly. The old woman watched him, as she had done many times before, with always the same pitiful expression. Pitiful, either for the man himself or for the dead rat. Mag Nesia seldom expressed her views.
Inserting the hypodermic needle and injecting the contents of the syringe, Professor Carbonic stepped back.
Prof. Carbonic Makes a Great Discovery
"Great Saints!" His voice could have been heard a mile. Slowly the rat's tail began to point skyward; and as slowly Mag Nesia began to turn white. Professor Carbonic stood as paralyzed. The rat trembled and moved his feet. The man of sixty years made one jump with the alacrity of a boy of sixteen, he grabbed the enlivened animal, and held it high above his head as he jumped about the room.
Spying the servant, who until now had seemed unable to move, he threw both arms around her, bringing the rat close to her face. Around the laboratory they danced to the tune of the woman's shrieks. The professor held on, and the woman yelled. Up and down spasmodically on the laboratory floor came the two hundred and ninety pounds with the professor thrown in.
Bottles tumbled from the shelves. Furniture was upset. Precious liquids flowed unrestrained and unnoticed. Finally the professor dropped with exhaustion and the rat and Mag Nesia made a dash for freedom.
Early in the morning pedestrians on Arlington Avenue were attracted by a sign in brilliant letters.
Professor Carbonic early in the morning betook himself to the nearest hardware store and purchased the tools necessary for his new profession. He was an M.D. and his recently acquired knowledge put him in a position to startle the world. Having procured what he needed he returned home.
* * * * *
Things were developing fast. Mag Nesia met him at the door and told him that Sally Soda, who was known to the neighborhood as Sal or Sal Soda generally, had fallen down two flights of stairs, and to use her own words was "Putty bad." Sal Soda's mother, in sending for a doctor, had read the elaborate sign of the new enemy of death, and begged that he come to see Sal as soon as he returned.
Bidding Mag Nesia to accompany him, he went to the laboratory and secured his precious preparation. Professor Carbonic and the unwilling Mag Nesia started out to put new life into a little Sal Soda who lived in the same block.
Reaching the house they met the family physician then attendant on little Sal. Doctor X. Ray had also read the sign of the professor and his greeting was very chilly.
"How is the child?" asked the professor.
"Fatally hurt and can live but an hour." Then he added, "I have done all that can be done."
"All that you can do," corrected the professor.
With a withering glance, Doctor X. Ray left the room and the house. His reputation was such as to admit of no intrusion.
* * * * *
"I am sorry she is not dead, it would be easier to work, and also a more reasonable charge." Giving Mag Nesia his instruments he administered a local anesthetic; this done he selected a brace and bit that he had procured that morning. With these instruments he bored a small hole into the child's head. Inserting his hypodermic needle, he injected the immortal fluid, then cutting the end off a dowel, which he had also procured that morning, he hammered it into the hole until it wedged itself tight.
Professor Carbonic seated himself comfortably and awaited the action of his injection, while the plump Mag Nesia paced or rather waddled the floor with a bag of carpenter's tools under her arm.
The fluid worked. The child came to and sat up. Sal Soda had regained her pep.
"It will be one dollar and twenty-five cents, Mrs. Soda," apologized the professor. "I have to make that charge as it is so inconvenient to work on them when they are still alive."
Having collected his fee, the professor and Mag Nesia departed, amid the ever rising blessings of the Soda family.
* * * * *
At 3:30 P.M. Mag Nesia sought her employer, who was asleep in the sitting room.
"Marse Paul, a gentleman to see you."
The professor awoke and had her send the man in.
The man entered hurriedly, hat in hand. "Are you Professor Carbonic?"
"I am, what can I do for you?"
"Can you----?" the man hesitated. "My friend has just been killed in an accident. You couldn't----" he hesitated again.
"I know that it is unbelievable," answered the professor. "But I can."
* * * * *
Professor Carbonic for some years had suffered from the effects of a weak heart. His fears on this score had recently been entirely relieved. He now had the prescription--Death no more! The startling discovery, and the happenings of the last twenty-four hours had begun to take effect on him, and he did not wish to make another call until he was feeling better.
"I'll go," said the professor after a period of musing. "My discoveries are for the benefit of the human race, I must not consider myself."
He satisfied himself that he had all his tools. He had just sufficient of the preparation for one injection; this, he thought, would be enough; however, he placed in his case, two vials of different solutions, which were the basis of his discovery. These fluids had but to be mixed, and after the chemical reaction had taken place the preparation was ready for use.
He searched the house for Mag Nesia, but the old servant had made it certain that she did not intend to act as nurse to dead men on their journey back to life. Reluctantly he decided to go without her.
"How is it possible!" exclaimed the stranger, as they climbed into the waiting machine.
"I have worked for fifteen years before I found the solution," answered the professor slowly.
"I cannot understand on what you could have based a theory for experimenting on something that has been universally accepted as impossible of solution."
"With electricity, all is possible; as I have proved." Seeing the skeptical look his companion assumed, he continued, "Electricity is the basis of every motive power we have; it is the base of every formation that we know." The professor was warming to the subject.
"Go on," said the stranger, "I am extremely interested."
"Every sort of heat that is known, whether dormant or active, is only one arm of the gigantic force electricity. The most of our knowledge of electricity has been gained through its offspring, magnetism. A body entirely devoid of electricity, is a body dead. Magnetism is apparent in many things including the human race, and its presence in many people is prominent."
"But how did this lead to your experiments?"
"If magnetism or motive force, is the offspring of electricity, the human body must, and does contain electricity. That we use more electricity than the human body will induce is a fact; it is apparent therefore that a certain amount of electricity must be generated within the human body, and without aid of any outside forces. Science has known for years that the body's power is brought into action through the brain. The brain is our generator. The little cells and the fluid that separate them, have the same action as the liquid of a wet battery; like a wet battery this fluid wears out and we must replace the fluid or the sal ammoniac or we lose the use of the battery or body. I have discovered what fluid to use that will produce the electricity in the brain cells which the human body is unable to induce."
"We are here," said the stranger as he brought the car to a stop at the curb.
"You are still a skeptic," noting the voice of the man. "But you shall see shortly."
The man led him into the house and introduced him to Mrs. Murray Attic, who conducted him to the room where the deceased Murray Attic was laid.
Without a word the professor began his preparations. He was ill, and would have preferred to have been at rest in his own comfortable house. He would do the work quickly and get away.
* * * * *
Selecting a gimlet, he bored a hole through the skull of the dead man; inserting his hypodermic he injected all the fluid he had mixed. He had not calculated on the size of the gimlet and the dowels he carried would not fit the hole. As a last resource he drove in his lead pencil, broke it off close, and carefully cut the splinters smooth with the head.
"It will be seventy-five cents, madam," said the professor as he finished the work.
* * * * *
Mrs. Murray Attic paid the money unconsciously; she did not know whether he was embalming her husband or just trying the keenness of his new tools. The death had been too much for her.
The minutes passed and still the dead man showed no signs of reviving. Professor Carbonic paced the floor in an agitated manner. He began to be doubtful of his ability to bring the man back. Worried, he continued his tramp up and down the room. His heart was affecting him. He was tempted to return the seventy-five cents to the prostrate wife when--THE DEAD MAN MOVED!
The professor clasped his hands to his throat, and with his head thrown back dropped to the floor. A fatal attack of the heart.
He became conscious quickly. "The bottles there," he whispered. "Mix--, make injection." He became unconscious again.
The stranger found the gimlet and bored a hole in the professor's head, hastily seizing one of the vials, he poured the contents into the deeply made hole. He then realized that there was another bottle.
"Mix them!" shrieked the almost hysterical woman.
It was too late, the one vial was empty, and the professor's body lay lifeless.
In mental agony the stranger grasped the second vial and emptied its contents also into the professor's head, and stopped the hole with the cork.
Miraculously Professor Carbonic opened his eyes, and rose to his feet. His eyes were like balls of fire; his lips moved inaudibly, and as they moved little blue sparks were seen to pass from one to another. His hair stood out from his head. The chemical reaction was going on in the professor's brain, with a dose powerful enough to restore ten men. He tottered slightly.
Murray Attic, now thoroughly alive, sat up straight in bed. He grasped the brass bed post with one hand and stretched out the other to aid the staggering man.
He caught his hand; both bodies stiffened; a slight crackling sound was audible; a blue flash shot from where Attic's had made contact with the bed post; then a dull thud as both bodies struck the floor. Both men were electrocuted, and the formula is still a secret.
THE END
FIELD TRIP
By Gene Hunter
Kial was disgusted with the slow, cumbersome train. He disliked using this uncomfortable means of travel, but since he wanted to learn more about these strange creatures who were his ancestors, he had decided to try to become used to their ways.
He was lonely in this strange, backward age and when he unexpectedly saw another being like himself in the same coach, he hastened to make his presence known. He introduced himself and asked politely:
"When are you from?"
"8000," the other replied. "Name's Broyk, from VII Galaxy."
"I'm from out XIX way myself," Kial said. "Just a country boy. But 8000--that's only a period ahead of my own time. Maybe you could tell me ..."
"Ah, ah!" the other admonished. "Remember the First Law of Thek!"
"Oh, Center," Kial grumbled. "I know: 'One may not divulge any scientific, technical or social information to anyone from his own past whom he may meet at an equidistant point in a Thek-travel.' I forgot."
"Bad," Broyk said. Then he added, almost jokingly: "You wouldn't want to be marooned in this dismal era, would you?"
Kial shuddered. "Of course not. But the Laws seem so ridiculous."
"Not a bit," Broyk said, warming up to the subject. "It's very simple, really. Same principle that doesn't allow anyone to Thek-travel into the future.
"Look. I'm from 8000. Say that I went into 12,000, where I memorized as much information as I could on some subject such as medicine. So I return to 8000, retaining all such knowledge in my mind that's been learned in four periods. Therefore, I'd have knowledge that wasn't dreamed of in my own time, but was discovered sometime during the next four periods. But then it couldn't be discovered, because I'd brought it back to 8000 and--well, I'm no Logician, but you see my point."
"Oh, it's reasonable, I suppose," Kial admitted. "I realize the Laws are really for our own good. By the way--I'm here on a field trip to gather material for my thesis on Advanced Therapeutical Psychology and its development since the Twentieth Century. What phase of this era are you here to study?"
"I--I'm afraid I couldn't tell you that," Broyk said. "It's of rather a secret nature and ..."
"You mean we might violate a Law and be stuck here for good--is that it?"
"Yes--in a way."
Frightened, Kial let the matter drop. His gaze wandered through the coach, examining the other passengers with interest. As time-travelers from a different space-time plane from their 20th Century ancestors, he and Broyk were naturally invisible to their fellow travelers.
Two pompous old gentlemen were lighting cigars and Kial was about to remark on the habit of smoking when he noticed an even more remarkable phenomenon. A few seats ahead of them sat a good-looking young couple, oblivious to others about them.
"Look!" Kial cried excitedly. "Lovers! Honeymooners! I've read about such things! Isn't it disgusting?"
"Oh, I don't know," Broyk said, a little wistfully. "I sometimes think it was a mistake for Center to do away with sex. It must have been interesting."
"Atavist!" Kial snapped in horror.
Had his people's emotional make-up provided for blushing, Kial would undoubtedly have turned beet-red. Broyk's words had caused him acute embarrassment.
* * * * *
As he sat reflecting upon his strange companion, he suddenly began to feel a sensation he had often heard about but never before had experienced. Terror and dismay filled him as he sought to throw off the probing finger that was penetrating his mind.
He looked at Broyk. There was the faintest notion of a smile on the other's face as he said: "Yes, Kial--I am a Telepath."
Kial's mind reeled. He felt himself on the brink of some gigantic abyss and then, as suddenly as it had come, the searching sensation faded away.
"Since you are unable to enter my mind," Broyk said calmly, "it's only fair that I tell you about myself. You were right--I'm an atavist. Even in period 8000, such things can happen. Always such creatures are destroyed after their first psychotests, but my case was different. The Controller who bred me was only a dabbler in such things. I was a failure, but he took a fancy to me. I was allowed to mature secretly--few people knew of my existence. When I reached my majority my presence became dangerous and I was sent back into time to try and find the proper place for myself. And I think I've found it--here!"
Kial was a very amazed young man. "But such a barbarous age," he complained. "Sex and atom bombs and everything ..."
"Remember," Broyk smiled, "these people are the forebears of the geniuses who created Center and the Galactic Empire. They'll survive, despite their barbarism. The existence of Center is proof."
"It's rather horrible to contemplate," Kial said thoughtfully, calmer now, "and yet, this might really be a great age. In a way I almost envy you."
"Of course you do," Broyk said. "You have certain tendencies--they bother you, although you manage to hide them well. I discovered them when I took the liberty of telepathing you. Artificial Genetics isn't perfect, even in our time--perhaps because we originally sprang from man. Perhaps we'll never be quite perfect, because of that, even after thousands of periods of breeding."
Kial took another look at the loving young couple. "It--it might be fun, after all."
Broyk laughed. "You needn't envy me at all, you know."
Kial frowned.
"I'm telling you about myself," Broyk went on, "I have also told you of a specific condition existing a period ahead of your own time. Remember the First Law?"
"Center!"
"We're marooned in the Twentieth Century. You have to accept it."
"But what will we do?" Kial's mind was reeling again.
"Since we've already broken the First Law," Broyk said, "we may just as well break the Second: 'No Thek-traveler may enter the body of a native of a foreign space-time ...'"
* * * * *
The young lovers kissed again and this time there seemed to be an added zest, even to their passionate embrace.
THE END
THE SHINING COW
By Alex James
Robbie whined and acted like his eyes were burning, as if he'd gotten dust or something even stranger into them....
Zack Stewart stared sleepily into the bottom of his cracked coffee cup as his wife began to gather the breakfast dishes.
Mrs. Stewart was a huge, methodical woman, seasoned to the drudgery of a farm wife. Quite methodically she'd arise every morning at 4:00 A.M. with her husband and each would do their respective chores until long after the sun had set on their forty-acre farm.
"You've jest got to find Junius today, Zack," Mrs. Stewart spoke worriedly, "Lord only knows her condition, not being milked since yesterday morning."
"Yeah, I know, Ma," Zack said wearily as he rose from the table, "I'll search for her again in the north woods, but if she ain't there this time, I give up."
A dog suddenly howled outside. There was a brief instant when neither moved, then Zack suddenly exclaimed, "It's Robbie!" and dashed outside.
In the light from the open doorway Zack saw the dog creeping along on his haunches, howling and whining, and scratching frantically at his tear-streaming eyes.
"Skunk finally got ya, eh boy?" Zack spoke sympathetically as the dog, fawning, came closer.
"Stay away, Robbie, stay away now!" he ordered the dog. Robbie whined and scratched again, furiously. Zack sniffed cautiously, expecting any moment the pungent smell of skunk fluid to hit his nostrils. He sensed nothing but the clean, fresh smell of the morning air, so he leaned closer. Within a foot of Robbie, he sniffed again. Nothing. He realized it wasn't a skunk that caused Robbie's eyes to burn. He knelt down and took the dog's head tenderly in his rough, calloused hands and examined his eyes. They were bloodshot and watery. He took some water from the well and dashed it into the dog's eyes as Robbie struggled.
"Hold still, boy, I'm trying to help ya," Zack soothed. He took out a blue work bandanna and wiped tenderly around Robbie's eyes.
"What did it, boy? How did it happen?" Zack asked. Robbie merely whined.
"What's wrong with him?" Mrs. Stewart, broom in hand, asked from the doorway.
"Don't rightly know," Zack patted the dog, "acts like he got something in his eyes."
"Skunk?"
"Naw," Zack shook his head. "He don't smell. Something else."
"Cat?"
"No scratches, either. He acts like they're burnin' him, like he got dust or somethin' in 'em."
"Well, take him out to the barn and you better get after Junius."
"Yeah, Ma. Come on, Robbie." He led Robbie to the barn and made him lie on a bed of hay in one of the stalls then returned to the kitchen for his lantern. He put on his thick denim jacket and work cap and turned to his wife.
"If she ain't in the woods, I'll come back and git the truck and drive over to the Leemers and see if he seen her."
He left the kitchen and shone the lantern around in the farmyard to get his bearings, then headed for the north end of his farm. He could see the faint glimmer of dawn in the east, more pronounced in the northeast, and even more so due north. He rubbed his eyes. A much brighter glow outlined the treetops in the north woods, that made the dawn on the eastern horizon look like a dirty gray streak. His first thought was of fire, but there was no smoke, no flame.
Zack walked dazedly toward the woods, his eyes glued to the light above the trees. Soon he was in the woods, and he could see the brightness extended down through the trees from the sky, on the other side of the woods. He approached cautiously as the light grew brighter, and came to the clearing where it was most intense. A thick bush obstructed his view, and Zack moved it aside then uttered a hoarse gasp, as he clutched at his eyes.
For a moment he felt he was dreaming. He squinted between the slits of his fingers. The glow was still piercing, but he could see the brightly lit Junius, radiating blue-white light, nibbling at the sparse grass in the clearing. Zack stood transfixed, his eyes widening behind his fingers. He felt the tears and the burning sensation, and squinted tightly, turning his head from the unbelievable scene.
* * * * *
Zack didn't remember his return to the farmhouse, or incoherently trying to explain to his wife the scene he had witnessed. A stiff jolt of elderberry wine drove off the jitters and reasoning returned. His wife sat patiently, eyeing him oddly, as Zack muttered over and over again, "It's unbelievable! It's unbelievable!"
Mrs. Stewart rose. "I'm going out and see fer myself. And, Zack, if yer lying to me--"
Zack jumped from the chair, barring her way.
"Believe me, maw, it's true. Don't go out there. It might be too much fer ya."
"It's the craziest thing I ever heard," Mrs. Stewart scoffed. "A cow that shines like the sun!"
"Look, maw, will ya jest come with me as fer as the pasture, you can see the glow from there, and mebbe that might convince ya."
"Yes, yes, I will." Mrs. Stewart jerked off her apron. "I declare, Zack, I think these chores are getting the best of ya."
They walked to the pasture, their eyes on the treetops of the north woods. A faint glow began to appear.
"See! See!" Zack pointed, laughing crazily.
"Let's get closer, looks like a fire," Mrs. Stewart said.
"Ain't no fire." Zack's tone was angry. "It's Junius and she's all lit up like a Christmas tree."
"Zack, now you stop that kinda crazy talk. There's a reason behind everything, and I'm sure there's one fer this."
"There is a reason, maw. Junius. She's got the whole clearing lit up like the noonday sun. Lord only knows how she got that way, but she's shining out there like a great big light bulb, only brighter."
Mrs. Stewart quickened her pace towards the clearing.
"I'm going to see fer myself," she said determinedly, "and put an end to this foolish nonsense."
"Alright, maw," Zack spoke resignedly, "if yer mind's set. But I'm warning ya, ya better squint yer eyes tight. She's too bright to look at. Poor Robbie must have got too good a look at her."
Mrs. Stewart approached the clearing ahead of her husband, and moved the same bush aside that had obstructed her husband's view. Her gaze caught the brightly radiating figure of Junius, and Mrs. Stewart screamed, clasping her face with her hands. Zack had his head turned, but he groped for his wife, grasped her arm and led her from the clearing.
"It's too crazy to believe, Zack," she whispered in awe; "What are we going to do? What has happened to poor Junius?"
"I don't know what happened to her," Zack answered, "but I know what I'm going to do about it. I'm going to call the University and git them scientist fellas down here."
"You suppose they can git close enough to milk the poor thing?" Mrs. Stewart clasped her hands in frustration. "She's probably in misery."
Zack shook his head. "Ain't no tellin' what they're liable to do after they seen her. Most likely they'll want to ship her to the University to examine her and see how she got that way."
"Why don't we call the Vet'nar'n?" Mrs. Stewart asked. "It might be some kind of new disease."
"It ain't no disease, maw. It's something nobody in the whole world ever seen or heard of before. I jest hope I can convince them University fellas to come down here."
"Don't you think you better tie Junius so she won't stray?"
"Better wait and see what them scientists say. Besides, if she strays, all we gotta do is follow the light!"
* * * * *
Zack did the most important chores and at eight A.M. on the dot he called the State University.
The operator at the switchboard answered sleepily.
"Good morning, State University."
"Mornin', ma'am. I'd like to talk to one of them scientist fellas."
"To whom in particular did you wish to speak?"
"Any of 'em that ain't busy. I got somethin' important to tell 'em."
"If I knew what it was about," the operator was becoming irritated, "I'd connect you with the right party."
Zack hesitated, reluctant to give his startling news to a mere operator. Instead, he hedged. "Well, who would have charge of things that light up?"
"Oh, you want the electrical engineering lab. Just a moment, sir."
There was a series of clicks and buzzes in the earpiece then Zack heard a man's deep voice.
"Hello."
"Hello," Zack replied, "this the electrical engineering lab?"
"Yessir, that's right."
"Well, my name is Zack Stewart and I own a forty-acre farm on the Canal Road just outside of Smithville."
"I'm Professor Donnell, can I help you?"
"Yeah," Zack took a deep breath then began, "my cow Junius was missing since yesterday morning and this morning when I went out to search for her again, I found her."
"Mr. Stewart," Professor Donnell's voice was impatient, "I'm a very busy man with a heavy class schedule. Why in the world would I care if you found your cow or not?"
"You'd care if you knew how I found her."
"Alright, Mr. Stewart, how did you find your cow, with some new kind of radar?"
"Nossir, I found her by following the bright light in the north wood and when I got there, there was Junius lit up like a neon sign."
"Mr. Stewart, are you drunk?"
"I knew you wouldn't believe me. All I can say is, come see for--"
Zack heard a sudden click then an immediate buzzing. Professor Donnell had hung up.
* * * * *
He had no sooner replaced the phone when there was a pounding on the door. He opened it and saw six state troopers and four important-looking gentlemen in civilian dress. A trooper who looked as though he might be in charge, spoke to Zack.
"Sir, we don't want you or your wife to get panicky, but we have reason to believe that something strange is going on in your woods. These men are from the atomic research laboratory at the University and they are convinced that a flying saucer has landed out there."
"It ain't no flying saucer," Zack spoke wearily.
"It isn't?" one of the gentlemen asked, disappointed, "then what is it?"
"It's Junius, my cow."
"Your--WHAT?" the state trooper exclaimed incredulously. "Are you nuts?"
Angrily, Zack jerked his thumb in the direction of the north woods.
"Jest go out there and see fer yourself and then tell me I'm nuts."
They hurriedly left the house, looking back skeptically at Zack.
Zack and his wife stood in the doorway, watching them until they were out of sight in the woods.
"You watch 'em come busting back here in a minute, maw."
In a few moments they saw the men scrambling out of the woods, rushing madly for the house, holding their eyes.
"Now I don't have to convince anybody," Zack smirked.
By the time they reached the porch, they were all talking excitedly and rubbing their eyes. The state trooper in charge pulled Zack aside.
"Mister," he asked ominously, "what the hell happened to that cow?"
"I don't know," Zack spoke with sarcasm, "jest the way I found her."
The important-looking civilian bustled past the patrolman and confronted Zack.
"I'd like to use your phone," his hands moved nervously, "where is it?"
Zack showed him and the man rushed to it and hastily dialed a number.
"This is Professor Jonathon Sims, Nuclear Physicist at State University. Put me through immediately to the Governor. It's very important."
There was a slight pause as Sims drummed impatiently on the phone.
"Hello! Hello, Governor? Professor Sims. I'd like a contingent of National Guardsmen around the farm of Zack Stewart on the old Canal Road. A most astounding thing has happened out here. For the welfare of the Public, I urgently request this farm be placed under tight security check at once and the Federal Government notified immediately."
"Hey now, wait a minute, Mister--" Zack protested.
Sims motioned him into silence, his ear glued to the phone.
"Sir," he hesitated, glancing at the group sideways, "you won't believe this until you see it. But we have positive proof a saucer has landed here. Mr. Stewart's cow is radiating intense blue and white light, the kind that has been associated with the glow of flying saucers."
Sims paused, listening to the Governor. Zack saw him fidget and stick a forefinger in his collar.
"Honestly, Sir! I am not drunk! The cow is radiating light."
"See?" Zack grinned at him. "Now ya know how I felt."
Sims ignored him, concentrating on the phone.
"Yessir, there is a state trooper here." He turned to the one in charge. "He wants to speak to you." The trooper took the receiver.
"Hello, Governor. Sgt. Les Johnson of the Highway Patrol." Pause. "That's right, sir. There's a number of people here who can swear to it. Yessir." This time the trooper fidgeted. "I seen it too. Blue-white light, yessir. Nossir, we are not having a drinking party. The light was reported by the pilot of the Continental Airways early this morning and we investigated. Yessir." He held the receiver towards Sims. "He wants to talk to you again."
The Governor was finally convinced something indeed strange was happening at the Stewart place, but being a solid citizen and faithful servant of the people who elected him, he couldn't believe the fantastic story the professor and the trooper told him. He decided to see for himself and rang for his chauffeur after his telephone conversation with Professor Sims.
Meanwhile, Mrs. Stewart turned to Sims.
"Will you please tell us if Junius can be milked?"
"I really don't know yet, Mrs. Stewart. I'll have to investigate the area for harmful radio-activity first, then I'll have to check the cow, herself. Pardon me." He turned to the phone again.
Trying to keep his voice and emotion under control, Professor Sims called his laboratory at the University and ordered among other technical equipment, a Geiger counter, a gamma-ray detector, a portable lead shield, body and temperature thermometers, a portable X-ray machine, and a dozen pairs of smoked glasses.
The equipment arrived within the hour, and Professor Sims distributed it among his assistants with his instructions. It was understood that he alone would approach Junius, wearing his smoked glasses and carrying the protective lead shield, to make the initial test. If his tests proved that Junius could be safely approached, he would go back for the others.
"You look like one of them flying saucer fellas, yerself," Zack laughed, seeing Professor Sims donned in the lead shield and the dark glasses.
Sims waved at the crowd in the farmyard and walked awkwardly toward the glow in the north wood, less pronounced now in the daylight. They watched until his retreating figure disappeared into the woods, and they were still watching the spot for what seemed a long time afterward. One of the assistants fidgeted and looked at his watch.
"He's been in there twenty minutes. Wonder what he's doing?"
"I hope he's milking her," Mrs. Stewart said hopefully.
Zack chuckled as a thought struck him.
"What's so funny, Zack?" his wife asked.
"Junius," Zack's chuckle bubbled into laughter, "will be the first cow to give radiated milk."
* * * * *
Finally, after another fifteen minutes, they saw Professor Sims emerge from the woods. As he came across the pasture they could see that his smoked glasses were propped above his eyebrows and he was concentrating on a small notebook in his hand, shaking his head from time to time.
When he finally joined the waiting group, he was flooded with questions.
He gestured them into silence.
"Please, I cannot answer any questions as yet until I have consulted with my assistants. Sgt. Johnson, will you please have your men guard the clearing while we hold a conference?"
"Is it safe to get that close to her?" the trooper asked, unbelieving.
"I can assure you that it is. There is just a negligible amount of radio-activity present, and no more ultra-violet rays then there are in an average sun lamp. But you must wear your glasses." Turning to his aides he said, "Come gentlemen," and they followed him into the farmhouse.
"Can she be milked?" Mrs. Stewart wailed after them.
"What a gadawful situation," Zack muttered, grabbing a pitchfork and heading for the barn.
The scientists seated themselves around the big dining-room table and faced Professor Sims.
"Gentlemen, it's the most amazing thing that ever happened. That cow is glowing out there like a miniature atomic pile, and under the circumstances as we know them, should be deader than a door nail, but there she stands, shining like the morning sun, chewing her cud and just mooing away as if nothing happened."
"What is your theory, Professor?" one of the assistants asked.
"I have one, but it's utterly fantastic," Sims answered.
"So is that cow out there. Let's hear it!"
"Do you remember how much more frequent saucer sightings were reported in this area alone?" Sims asked. All the assistants nodded their heads.
"Well," Sims went on, "I am of the opinion that a saucer actually landed out there and they came across the cow by accident. They either shot her with some sort of radium ray gun, or some luminous substance unknown to us."
"Why didn't Junius die?" one of the assistants asked.
Sims shook his head. "They wished to examine her. You see, gentlemen, whatever it was, it served a threefold purpose. It made her luminous, immobile and--" Sims placed both hands on the table and leaned forward for emphasis, "transparent."
There was a gasp and exclamations.
"Transparent? How?--"
"I was within a foot of the cow, felt her hide, and through the glasses I could see the skeletal frame, the chest cavity, the heart beating within, the entire intestinal tract, much, much more clearly than could be seen by the best X-ray."
As if on command, the assistants all rose simultaneously.
"Sit down, gentlemen, the cow isn't going anywhere. We shall have to face this situation with sound scientific reasoning. There will be a closed van here soon to pick up Junius and haul her to the laboratory where we can examine her more thoroughly. Now my belief is that the saucer took off in haste, such great haste that they forgot to extinguish poor Junius. I believe they will be back looking for her, therefore we shall have to return her tonight and conceal ourselves around the area and watch."
"Splendid idea, Professor Sims!" one of the assistants exclaimed.
Yelling voices in the farmyard caught their attention. They saw Sgt. Johnson through the dining-room window, coming across the yard, yelling and pointing to the sky. Sims rushed from the house, met Johnson, grasped him by the shoulders, shaking him.
"What happened, man, what happened?" Sims asked.
"Black light, black light!" Johnson shouted, pointing skyward. Sims looked up. Nothing but the serene blue of the summer sky and an occasional bird caught his eye.
Sims shook him again, more roughly.
"Speak, man, what happened?"
"Black light flashed down on the cow! Blackest light you ever saw!"
The group gathered around him in the yard, trying to make sense out of what he said. So engrossed were they with his babblings, that none but Mrs. Stewart was aware of the fact that Junius had entered the farmyard and was eyeing them curiously.
"Junius!" she exclaimed.
"Moooo!"
The crowd looked up to see the ordinary, unlit Junius standing calmly by the gate.
"Hurry and get the milk pail, Zack, Junius is all right now!" Mrs. Stewart yelled happily to her husband, as Professor Sims and his assistants led the hysterical trooper into the house.
High over the horizon, a faint, silvery disc was disappearing at fantastic speed into outer space.