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Fantasia, v. 1, issue 3, July 1941

Page 19

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FANTASIA 19 under his visitor's nose. "Yes, indeed..." he guffawed, slobbering snake-venom. "See the little man with fourteen toes," he directed. "Fourth pot of boiling oil to your left." Suddenly his voice rose to a roar. "Get out!" he shouted, brandishing his De Lameters. "I've got heads to chop off and defense industries to blow up tonight! Can't you see you're bothering me? Get out!!!" The ManInTheBlueTopper was gone. "Pssst! Tovarich!" whispered a guttural voice in the dark corridor. The ManInTheBlueTopper stopped in his tracks. Was this the government agent he was to contact? Was this the federal termite who had been boring from within Dr. Phlub's arrant ant-hill? A shadowy figure oozed up to the ManInTheBlueTopper. "Rub-a-dub-dub..." grated the voice, challengingly. "Three-men-in-a-pub!" exulted the ManInTheBlueTopper. The countersign! "You have the secret report?" he inquired anxiously. "Check!" replied the shadowy one, mopping his brow fluidly. "Whew!" he whistled. "I thought you'd never get here. I've been crawling around in maggot-infested caverns, and dodging in and out of ratholes for a long time. Years, maybe. What's new outside?" The ManInTheBlueTopper thought earnestly. "Well," he said at last, "there's a war going on..." "Hmm," hmmed the other. "Draggin' a bit; them JohnnyRebs are pretty tough..." "Well," ventured the ManInTheBlueTopper, when he had totaled up the figures, "I guess you know about Unknown -- or -- Unknown Worlds?" "Right," snapped the indistinct one, "and say, wasn't Yesterday Was Monday chipper in the June number?" "The Fountain was quite some stuff too..." "Hssst! Wait a moment, Comrade!" the shady character hissed. He pulled the ManInTheBlueTopper against the corridor wall. There was a great roaring and clanking in the distance, and soon a puffing, grinding column of large gelatinous masses on tin wheels came booming past. "Mechanized protoplasm!" explained the misty presence. "The Doc's been raising 'em for the Zero-Hour!" The Zero-Hour! The ManInTheBlueTopper nodded mutely, suppressing a shudder. The Zero-Hour! What hideous horrors would the fiendish Dr. Phlub loose on an unsuspecting world in his mad bid for direct-relief and control of the 14th Avenue safety-zones? Shiver the thought!" "Time is the essence!" grated the ManInTheBlueTopper. "Astounding has certainly lined up a bunch of hot numbers, what?" "Damright!" declared a peppermint skeleton, stepping up to them out of the darkness. "Stolen Dormouse, Microcosmic God, Liar, Universe, Subcruiser, Reason..." "Reminds me," the dimly seen man horned in. "Ever tell you how I solved the Mysterious Matter of Monroe-MacDonald?" "Or -- How Does Heinlein Do It?" said the ManInTheBlueTopper. "Yeh, I know all about it," he concluded, crunching avidly on the skeleton's collar-bone. "Speaking of Super-Science..." began the peppermint skeleton. "We weren't," the indistinct one objected. "Well, good for you," retorted the skeleton, "and damyou, lay off my ribs!" The ManInTheBlueTopper wiped his mouth and held out empty hands. "All gone," he said. "But Invaders From Nowhere wasn't bad, eh? And Bok's Mickey Mouses!" "Well, I'm still waiting for Astonishing," the peppermint skeleton complained. "And hey, I gotta be going...Hope you get a bellyache." He wandered disconsolately off, leaving a dozen vertebrae stuck to the ManInTheBlueTopper's fingers. An old man with a long white beard came tottering down the corridor. He carried a beautifully engraved cavalry sabre with which he was sparring hotcakes that lay about the floor. The ManInTheBlueTopper cast an inquring glance in the old boy's direction. The vaguely discerned gentleman undertook to explain.
 
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