Big Book of Science Fiction by Groff Conklin Read Free Book Online

Mewhu’s.
Apparently he used it for a parachute. On the way down, a tree branch speared
through one of these rings and he slipped out of it and fell and broke his arm.”
     
    “What are we going to do with
him, Jack?”
     
    “I’ve been worrying about that
myself. We can’t sell him to a sideshow.” He paused, thoughtfully. “There’s no
doubt that he has a lot that would be of value to humanity. Why—this thing
alone would change the face of the earth! Listen—I weigh a hundred and seventy.
I fell on this thing, suddenly, when I lost my grip on a tree and it
bore my weight immediately. Mewhu weighs more than I do, judging from his
build. It took his weight when he lifted his feet off the ground while holding
it over his head. If it can do that, it or a larger version should be able, not
only to drive, but to support ah aircraft. If for some reason that isn’t
possible, the power of those little jets certainly could turn a turbine.”
     
    “Will it wash clothes?” Iris was
glum.
     
    “That’s exactly what I mean!
Light, portable, and more power than it has any right to have—of course it’ll wash clothes. And drive generators, and cars, and . . . Iris, what do you do when you have something as big as this?”
     
    “Call a newspaper, I guess.”
     
    “And have a hundred thousand
people peeking and prying all over the place, and Congressional investigations,
and what all? Uh . . . uh!”
     
    “Why not ask Harry Zinsser?”
     
    “Harry? I thought you didn’t like
him.”
     
    “I never said that. It’s just
that you and he go off in the corner and chatter about multitude amputation and
debilities of reactance and things like that, and I have to sit, knit— and spit
when I want someone’s attention. Harry’s all right.”
     
    “Gosh, honey, you’ve got it!
Harry’ll know what to do. I’ll go right away.”
     
    “You’ll do nothing of the kind!
With that hole in the roof? I thought you said you could have it patched up for
the night at least. By the time you get back here it’ll be dark.”
     
    The prospect of sawing out the
ragged hole in the roof was suddenly the least appealing thing in the world.
But there was logic and an “or else” tone to what she said. He sighed and went
off, mumbling something about the greatest single advance in history awaiting
the whim of a woman. He forgot he was wearing Mewhu’s armpit altitudinizer, and
only his first two paces were on the ground. Iris hooted with laughter at his
clumsy walking on air. When he reached the ground, he set his jaw and leaped
lightly up to the roof. “Catch me now, you and your piano legs,” he taunted
cheerfully, ducked the lancelike clothes prop she hurled at him, and went back
to work.
     
    As he sawed, he was conscious of
a hubbub down below.
     
    “Dah—dee! Mr-r-roo ellue—”
     
    He sighed and put down the saw. “What
is it?”
     
    “Mewhu wants his flyin’ belt!”
     
    Jack looked at the roof, at the
lower shed, and decided that his old bones could stand it if he had to get down
without a ladder. He took the jet-tipped rod and dropped it. It stayed
perfectly horizontal, falling no slower and no faster than it had when he had
ridden it down. Mewhu caught it, deftly slipped his splinted arm through it—it
was astonishing how careful he was of the arm, and yet how little it
inconvenienced him—then the other arm, and sprang up to join Jack on the roof.
     
    “What do you say, fella?”
     
    “Woopen yew weep.”
     
    “I know how you feel.” He knew
that the silver man wanted to tell him something, but couldn’t help him out. He
grinned and picked up the saw. Mewhu took it out of his hand and tossed it off
the roof, being careful to miss Molly, w ho was dancing back to get a point of
vantage.
     
    “What’s the big idea?”
     
    “Dellihew hidden,” said Mewhu. “Pento
deh numinew heh.” And he pointed at the flyin’ belt and at the hole in the
roof.
     
    “You mean I’d rather fly off