DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Spaceways, v. 4, issue 2, January 1942

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Spaceways, v. 4, issue 2, January 1942

Page 5

SPACEWAYS     5

IF I WEREWOLF

said in explanation of these deductions. "You-Know-Who's presence here probably kept them off; it repels any being he doesn't specifically permit to stay."
"Werewolves?" I said eagerly. "I've been wanting to take a crack at some werewolves ever since I wrote ' In Defense of Homo Sapiens' for The Southern Star. Any way of combattin' 'em?"
"Well," he said, "I think there's a small machine that will turn them back to normal humans, but I couldn't blueprint it offhand. It has to embody all the basic principles of science, which are directly antagonistic to the essence of the Cwael Darth--Newton's laws of motion, John Stuart Mill's rules of the scientific method, Einsteins--"
"Hold on," I said "you're running into a philosophic absurdity. The metaphysical texture of laws governing the physical universe is, like the substance of the universe itself, a featureless mass, without distinct and discrete elements, but only varying contours which we arbitrarily compartmentalize into our stated natural laws."
"That would be true," he answered, "but you must remember that you're combatting magic, in which just such discrete elements actually are the basic rules."
With the proper instrument I broke the triple-woven triangle in which I'd been sitting, and, ascertaining from Slingo that the werewolves were still in the city, asked if he could take me within observing distance of them. "Perhaps," he said, "but it would be better for you to travel by your usual means. In this universe my powers are very restricted, and I can't serve in much more than an advisory capacity."
By the time the trail ended at 1730 P St., Slingo had told me who the were ones were. Parking the Spirit of FooFoo, I went up to the door, but disliked muchly the idea of getting Mrs Swinney up to admit me at this midnite hour; she'd been none too polite the last few times I called, even in the afternoons or early evenings. Slingo, however, solved this for me, and sending him back to delta epsilon gamma, I went up the dark, steep stairs and entered Rothman's room, which was lighted, without bothering to knock.
"Hello, you wolves," I said as I came in, and to the bat which circled round and round and round the chandelier, "Hi, bum."
"Hello, Speer," said Chauvenet from his perch on the typewriter. "We tried to visit you first, but something drove us away before we'd fairly materialized."
"I was trying some incantations. Nothing much came of them," I lied facilely.
Bok, in order not to take up too much space, had reduced himself to a Dragonette, and was comfortably ensconced in the rocker, Widner in wildcat form curled relaxedly near his feet. As I sat down on the bed beside him, Rothman resumed their former argument. "All right," he said, "but how do I know everything's lovely about being a werewolf? You haven't made an exhaustive investigation of the matter; maybe there are drawbacks that you don't know about, that outweigh the advantages of being able to flow thru doors or be invisible at will."
Because his precise manner of speaking was an aid to Milt's thinking, the discussion was being carried on verbally. Chauvenet's were form had normal hearing. Trudy, the better to take part in the discussion, had changed into a frog and, except for occasionally having to duck down when her skin got too dry, leaned with her elbows propped on the rim of the fishbowl, which was placed on the mantel next to Paul's Man from Earth original. Music-loving Milty had probably been sitting up listening to Masterworks of Music on the radio when the werefen came in, and now the all-night playing of requested records by the local station announcer was on. I noticed Gertrude frowning froggily at the radio, and having vacantly noticed what the announcer said the piece on was, asked her, "Smatter, Trudy? That's Gilbert and Sullivan; I thot you and Louis were nuts about those two guys." (concluded on page 24)

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SPACEWAYS 5 IF I WEREWOLF said in explanation of these deductions. "You-Know-Who's presence here probably kept them off; it repels any being he doesn't specifically permit to stay." "Werewolves?" I said eagerly. "I've been wanting to take a crack at some werewolves ever since I wrote ' In Defense of Homo Sapiens' for The Southern Star. Any way of combattin' 'em?" "Well," he said, "I think there's a small machine that will turn them back to normal humans, but I couldn't blueprint it offhand. It has to embody all the basic principles of science, which are directly antagonistic to the essence of the Cwael Darth--Newton's laws of motion, John Stuart Mill's rules of the scientific method, Einsteins--" "Hold on," I said "you're running into a philosophic absurdity. The metaphysical texture of laws governing the physical universe is, like the substance of the universe itself, a featureless mass, without distinct and discrete elements, but only varying contours which we arbitrarily compartmentalize into our stated natural laws." "That would be true," he answered, "but you must remember that you're combatting magic, in which just such discrete elements actually are the basic rules." With the proper instrument I broke the triple-woven triangle in which I'd been sitting, and, ascertaining from Slingo that the werewolves were still in the city, asked if he could take me within observing distance of them. "Perhaps," he said, "but it would be better for you to travel by your usual means. In this universe my powers are very restricted, and I can't serve in much more than an advisory capacity." By the time the trail ended at 1730 P St., Slingo had told me who the were ones were. Parking the Spirit of FooFoo, I went up to the door, but disliked muchly the idea of getting Mrs Swinney up to admit me at this midnite hour; she'd been none too polite the last few times I called, even in the afternoons or early evenings. Slingo, however, solved this for me, and sending him back to delta epsilon gamma, I went up the dark, steep stairs and entered Rothman's room, which was lighted, without bothering to knock. "Hello, you wolves," I said as I came in, and to the bat which circled round and round and round the chandelier, "Hi, bum." "Hello, Speer," said Chauvenet from his perch on the typewriter. "We tried to visit you first, but something drove us away before we'd fairly materialized." "I was trying some incantations. Nothing much came of them," I lied facilely. Bok, in order not to take up too much space, had reduced himself to a Dragonette, and was comfortably ensconced in the rocker, Widner in wildcat form curled relaxedly near his feet. As I sat down on the bed beside him, Rothman resumed their former argument. "All right," he said, "but how do I know everything's lovely about being a werewolf? You haven't made an exhaustive investigation of the matter; maybe there are drawbacks that you don't know about, that outweigh the advantages of being able to flow thru doors or be invisible at will." Because his precise manner of speaking was an aid to Milt's thinking, the discussion was being carried on verbally. Chauvenet's were form had normal hearing. Trudy, the better to take part in the discussion, had changed into a frog and, except for occasionally having to duck down when her skin got too dry, leaned with her elbows propped on the rim of the fishbowl, which was placed on the mantel next to Paul's Man from Earth original. Music-loving Milty had probably been sitting up listening to Masterworks of Music on the radio when the werefen came in, and now the all-night playing of requested records by the local station announcer was on. I noticed Gertrude frowning froggily at the radio, and having vacantly noticed what the announcer said the piece on was, asked her, "Smatter, Trudy? That's Gilbert and Sullivan; I thot you and Louis were nuts about those two guys." (concluded on page 24)