"Hold on, fella," it said. "Don't get into a panic."
I stared at it. It was about four feet tall, with scales and two thick
stubs that was supposed to be tails. It stood on its tails and blinked
enormous eyes at me.
"The creature from the black lagoon," I said.
"To you I'm a creature," he said. "To me you're a creature."
"What kind of a fish are you?"
"I'm not a fish. I'm a Grenarian."
"You mean you eat vegetables?"
"I'm from the planet Grenaria."
"Look," I said. "You want this boat? Keep it. I'm off for Tampa. It's
about time I took up drinking."
"You hate me."
"No, I don't. Honest. I'm just not used to these things."
"It happens all the time. What you don't understand you hate."
"But I don't. Honest. And where did you learn to talk?"
"I learned English from a professor. He understood my plight and tried
to help. He was fishing the same as you when I caught hold of his line
and we met."
"What happened to him?"
"He went back to tell his colleagues. I never saw him again."
"He's probably in the booby hatch," I said.
"What's that?"
"Where I'll be if I ever tell anyone this."
"This is a cruel world," he said. "By the way my name is Hrodes."
"And mine is Carol Engelholtz. Now that the formalities are over, what
the hell are you doing here?"
"My orders were to make contact with this solar system. My ship is at
the bottom of the sea. I have to be near water or die. And every time I
try to make contact I'm left alone on a craft of this sort."
"You mean they jump overboard?"
"That's exactly what I mean."
"You're from another galaxy?"
"Yes. My planet is covered with water. Your planet is the best one in
this system which has water on it. That's why I'm here."
"But you're not in water now."
"My gills can still absorb it. As long as I'm near it."
"Well, what do you want me to do?"
"I want to meet someone with responsibility."
"I wouldn't be able to get anyone to come out here with a story like
that. They wouldn't believe me. I'd end up with the professor."
"Then take me with you."
"But you wouldn't be near water. Wait a minute. I can leave you in the
tub."
"Anything. I just want to get this mission over with."
"I can wrap you up in wet towels. I can drive you to my place and go
bring someone back with me."
"Anything. Anything. Just let's get on with it."
"Why, I might be making history. I may become famous."
"Will you please start this craft back to land?"
"Sure thing. Just a second," I started the motor and headed for land.
Me. Carol Engelholtz. A liaison between two planets. I never felt so
excited in my life. Why, it was more exciting than hooking a sailfish.
"There's my lodge," I shouted, pointing at the bluff just over a rise.
"You stay there alone?" Hrodes asked.
"I have a cook and a housekeeper. But they won't bother you. You'll
stay in the tub in my bathroom while I go fetch somebody. But who do I
go fetch?"
"Anyone with responsibility. I want to get this over with."
"Yes, yes, I know. Your mission." I docked the launch, soaked towels,
wrapped them around Hrodes, carried him--or she--to my car, and in
fifteen minutes I was home.
* * * * *
I left Hrodes in the tub and went back to the car. Miami was too far
off. There was a small town called Chesterville a few miles away. It
seemed the only place to go.
"There ain't no F.B.I. branch here," a deputy behind a battered desk
said. He was about sixty, with a skinny neck that was covered with
half dollar size blotches. "Better try Miami. Why? What's the matter?
Find some subversives? A lot of subversives in Florida."
"No, no, nothing like that. Look, there must be a school or some kind
of place for learning here."
"Shore thing. We gotta school."
"Isn't there a professor teaching there, maybe?"
"Nope. But we got old Mrs. Henshaw. Husband died about six years ago.
Old bag. I think she's been running around lately with some tourist
from Iowa. Now if you're just lookin' for any old professor, then--"
"That's right," I said, grasping at a straw. "Any old professor. Is
there one in town?"
"Professor Klugelmeyer. Used to teach at some eastern college. Kind of
dopey, though, I think. Funny old gaffer. Believes in flyin' saucers.
Can you imagine?"
"Where do I reach him?"
"He's stayin' at Mrs. Kirpatrick's roomin' house. Poor Mrs. Kirpatrick.
Got a bad case of food poisoning. She ate--"
I ran out of the building and inquired for the rooming house. I found
it and Professor Klugelmeyer.
"What? What? Hard to believe--Hard to believe. Once heard the same
story from Professor Dickson. The poor fellow was put away. You must be
mistaken, old man. You must be. Take my advice. Give up drinking. Bad
for the liver, too, you know."
"That old deputy told me you believe in flying saucers," I said.
"I do. I really do. From Mars, probably. But they certainly won't turn
out to be fish. Fish talking? Come now."
"I didn't believe it at first myself. Listen, Professor, come with me.
See and hear for yourself."
"Well, I don't know."
It took me an hour before I had him half convinced. I almost dragged
him to my car.
"This had better not turn out to be a practical joke," he said. The
professor was somewhere between sixty and seventy. He was kind of thin
and he sported a long white mustache.
It was getting toward evening when we got to the lodge.
I ushered him in to my room. "There," I said, flinging open the
bathroom door.
"Where?" he said.
"There."
"Where?"