The Second Fredric Brown Megapack. Fredric Brown
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“You didn’t explain,” said Elmo, looking interested.
Dorothy glowered at Elmo. “He’d better not. Five different sexes! All living together in one spaceship. I suppose it takes all five of you to—uh—”
“Exactly,” said the Doberman. “And now if you will please open the door for Two, I’m sure that—”
“I will not! Have a cow in here? Do you think I’m crazy?”
“We could make you so,” said the dog. Elmo looked from the dog to his wife.
“You’d better open the door, Dorothy,” he advised.
“Excellent advice,” said the Doberman. “We are not, incidentally, going to impose on your hospitality, nor will we ask you to do anything unreasonable.” Dorothy opened the screen door and the cow clumped in.
He looked at Elmo and said, “Hi, Mac. What’s cookin’?”
Elmo closed his eyes.
The Doberman asked the cow, “Where’s Five? Have you been in touch with him?”
“Yeah,” said the cow. “He’s comin’. The guy I looked over was a bindlestiff, One. What are these mugs?”
“The one with the pants is a writer,” said the dog. “The one with the skirt is his wife.”
“What’s a wife?” asked the cow. He looked at Dorothy and leered. “I like skirts better,” he said. “Hiya, Babe.”
Elmo got up out of his chair, glaring at the cow. “Listen, you—” That was as far as he got. He dissolved into laughter, almost hysterical laughter, and sank down into the chair again.
Dorothy looked at him indignantly. “Elmo! Are you going to let a cow—” She almost strangled on the word as she caught Elmo’s eye, and she, too, started laughing. She fell into Elmo’s lap so hard that he grunted.
The Doberman was laughing, too, his long pink tongue lolling out. “I’m glad you people have a sense of humor,” he said with approval. “In fact, that is one reason we chose you. But let us be serious a moment.”
There wasn’t any laughter in his voice now. He said, “Neither of you will be harmed, but you will be watched. Do not go near the phone or leave the house while we are here. Is that understood?”
“How long are you going to be here?” Elmo asked. “We have food for only a few days.”
“That will be long enough. We will be able to make a new spaceship within a matter of hours. I see that that amazes you; I shall explain that we can work in a slower dimension.”
“I see,” said Elmo.
“What is he talking about, Elmo?” Dorothy demanded.
“A slower dimension,” said Elmo. “I used it in a story once myself. You go into another dimension where the time rate is different; spend a month there and come back and you get back only a few minutes or hours after you left, by time in your own dimension.”
“And you invented it? Elmo, how wonderful!”
Elmo grinned at the Doberman. He said, “That’s all you want—to let you stay here until you get your new ship built? And to let you alone and not notify anybody that you’re here?”
“Exactly.” The dog appeared to beam with delight. “And we will not inconvenience you unnecessarily. But you will be guarded. Five or I will do that.”
“Five? Where is he?”
“Don’t be alarmed; he is under your chair at the moment, but he will not harm you. You didn’t see him come in a moment ago through the hole in the screen. Five, meet Elmo and Dorothy Scott. Don’t call her Toots.”
There was a rattle under the chair. Dorothy screamed and pulled her feet up into Elmo’s lap. Elmo tried to put his there too, with confusing results.
There was hissing laughter from under the chair. A sibilant voice said, “Don’t worry, folks. I didn’t know until I read in your minds just now that shaking my tail like that was a warning that I was about to—Think of the word for me—thank you. To strike.” A five-foot-long rattlesnake crawled out from under the chair and curled up beside the Doberman.
“Five won’t harm you,” said the Doberman. “None of us will.”
“We sho won’t,” said the squirrel.
The cow leaned against the wall, crossed its front legs and said, “That’s right, Mac.” He, or she, or it leered at Dorothy. It said, “An’ Babe, you don’t need to worry about what you’re worryin’ about. I’m housebroke.” It started to chew placidly and then stopped. “I won’t give you no udder trouble, either,” it concluded.
Elmo Scott shuddered slightly.
“You’ve done worse than that yourself,” said the Doberman. “And it’s quite a trick to pun in a language you’ve just learned. I can see one question in your mind. You’re wondering that creatures of high intelligence should have a sense of humor. The answer is obvious if you think about it; isn’t your sense of humor more highly developed than that of creatures who have even less intelligence than you?”
“Yes,” Elmo admitted. “Say, I just thought of something else. Andromeda is a constellation, not a star. Yet you said your planet is Andromeda II. How come?”
“Actually we come from a planet of a star in Andromeda for which you have no name; it’s too distant to show up in your telescopes. I merely called it by a name that would be familiar to you. For your convenience I named the star after the constellation.”
Whatever slight suspicion (of what, he didn’t know) Elmo Scott may have had, evaporated.
The cow uncrossed its legs. “What tell we waitin’ for?” it inquired. “Nothing, I suppose,” said the Doberman. “Five and I will take turns standing guard.”
“Go ahead and get started,” said the rattlesnake. “I’ll take the first trick. Half an hour; that’ll give you a month there.”
The Doberman nodded. He got up and trotted to the screen door, pushing it open with his muzzle after lifting the latch with his tail. The squirrel, the chicken and the cow followed.
“Be seein’ ya, Babe,” said the cow.
“We sho will,” the squirrel said.
It was almost two hours later that the Doberman, who was then on duty as guard, lifted his head suddenly.
“There they went,” he said.
“I beg your pardon,” said Elmo Scott.
“Their new spaceship just took off. It has warped out of this space and is heading back toward Andromeda.”
“You