[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Science Fiction January 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
Jeff needed a job and this man had a job to
offer--one where giant economy-size trouble
had labels like fakemake, bumsy and peekage!
I
At first, Jeff scarcely noticed the bold-looking man at the next table.
Nor did Ann. Their minds were busy with Jeff's troubles.
"You're still the smartest color engineer in television," Ann told Jeff
as they dallied with their food. "You'll bounce back. Now eat your
supper."
"This beanery is too noisy and hot," he grumbled. "I can't eat. Can't
talk. Can't think." He took a silver pillbox from his pocket and
fumbled for a black one. Those were vitamin pills; the big red and
yellow ones were sleeping capsules. He gulped the pill.
Ann looked disapproving in a wifely way. "Lately you chew pills like
popcorn," she said. "Do you really need so many?"
"I need something. I'm sure losing my grip."
Ann stared at him. "Baby! How silly! Nothing happened, except you lost
your lease. You'll build up a better company in a new spot. We're young
yet."
* * * * *
Jeff sighed and glanced around the crowded little restaurant. He wished
he could fly away somewhere. At that moment, he met the gaze of the
mustachioed man at the next table.
The fellow seemed to be watching him and Ann. Something in his
confident gaze made Jeff uneasy. Had they met before?
Ann whispered, "So you noticed him, too. Maybe he's following us. I
think I saw him on the parking lot where we left the car."
Jeff shrugged his big shoulders. "If he's following us, he's nuts.
We've got no secrets and no money."
"It must be my maddening beauty," said Ann.
"I'll kick him cross-eyed if he starts anything," Jeff said. "I'm just
in the mood."
Ann giggled. "Honey, what big veins you have! Forget him. Let's talk
about the engineering lab you're going to start. And let's eat."
He groaned. "I lose my appetite every time I think about the building
being sold. It isn't worth the twelve grand. I wouldn't buy it for that
if I could. What burns me is that, five years ago, I could have bought
it for two thousand."
"If only we could go back five years." She shrugged fatalistically.
"But since we can't--"
The character at the next table leaned over and spoke to them,
grinning. "You like to get away? You wish to go back?"
Jeff glanced across in annoyance. The man was evidently a salesman,
with extra gall.
"Not now, thanks," Jeff said. "Haven't time."
The man waved his thick hand at the clock, as if to abolish time.
"Time? That is nothing. Your little lady. She spoke of go back five
years. Maybe I help you."
He spoke in an odd clipped way, obviously a foreigner. His shirt was
yellow. His suit had a silky sheen. Its peculiar tailoring emphasized
the bulges in his stubby, muscular torso.
Ann smiled back at him. "You talk as if you could take us back to 1952.
Is that what you really mean?"
"Why not? You think this silly. But I can show you."
Jeff rose to go. "Mister, you better get to a doctor. Ann, it's time we
started home."
* * * * *
Ann laid a hand on his sleeve. "I haven't finished eating. Let's
chat with the gent." She added in an undertone to Jeff, "Must be a
psycho--but sort of an inspired one."
The man said to Ann, "You are kind lady, I think. Good to crazy people.
I join you."
He did not wait for consent, but slid into a seat at their table with
an easy grace that was almost arrogant.
"You are unhappy in 1957," he went on. "Discouraged. Restless. Why not
take trip to another time?"
"Why not?" Ann said gaily. "How much does it cost?"
"Free trial trip. Cost nothing. See whether you like. Then maybe we
talk money." He handed Jeff a card made of a stiff plastic substance.
Jeff glanced at it, then handed it to Ann with a half-smile. It read:
4-D TRAVEL BEURO
Greet Snader, Traffic Ajent
"Mr. Snader's bureau is different," Jeff said to his wife. "He even
spells it different."