learned enough to make an arrest. The situation was becoming unpleasant.
Superior had always been a friendly place to live, where everyone knew
everyone else, at least to say hello to, but now there was suspicion and
fear, not to mention increasing cold and threatened famine.
Everyone was cheered up, therefore, when Mayor Hector Civek announced a
mass meeting in Town Square. Bonfires were lit and the reviewing stand
that was used for the annual Founders' Day parade was hauled out as a
speaker's platform.
Civek was late. The crowd, bundled up against the cold, was stamping
their feet and beginning to shout a bit when he arrived. There was a
medium-sized cheer as the mayor climbed to the platform.
"Fellow citizens," he began, then stopped to search through his overcoat
pockets.
"Well," he went on, "I guess I put the speech in an inside pocket and
it's too cold to look for it. I know what it says, anyway."
This brought a few laughs. Don Cort stood near the edge of the crowd
and watched the people around him. They mostly had a no-nonsense look
about them, as if they were not going to be satisfied with more oratory.
Civek said, "I'm not going to keep you standing in the cold and tell you
what you already know--how our food supplies are dwindling, how we're
using up our stocks of coal and fuel oil with no immediate hope of
replacement--you know all that."
"We sure do, Hector," somebody called out.
"Yes; so, as I say, I'm not going to talk about what the problem is. We
don't need words--we need action."
He paused as if he expected a cheer, or applause, but the crowd merely
waited for him to go on.
"If Superior had been hit by a flood or a tornado," Civek said, "we
could look to the Red Cross and the State or Federal Government for
help. But we've been the victims of a far greater misfortune, torn from
the bosom of Mother Earth and flung--"
"Oh, come on, Hector," an old woman said. "We're getting froze."
"I'm sorry about that, Mrs. Potts," Civek said. "You should be home
where it's warm."
"We ran out of coal for the furnace and now we're running out of logs.
Are you going to do something about that?"
"I'll tell you what I'm going to do, Mrs. Potts, for you and all the
other wonderful people here tonight. We're going to put a stop to this
lawlessness we never had before. We're going to make Superior a place to
be proud of. Superior has changed--risen, you might say, to a new
status. We're more than a town, now. We're free and separate, not only
from Ohio, but from the United States.
"We're a sovereign place, a--a sovereignty, and we need new methods to
cope with new conditions, to restore law and order, to see that all our
subjects--our citizen-subjects--are provided for."
The crowd had become hushed as Civek neared his point.
"To that noble end," Civek went on, "I dedicate myself, and I take this
momentous step and hereby proclaim the existence of the Kingdom of
Superior"--he paused to take a deep breath--"and proclaim myself its
first King."
He stopped. His oratory had carried him to a climax and he didn't quite
know where to go from there. Maybe he expected cheers to carry him over,
but none came. There was complete silence except for the crackling of
the bonfires.
But after a moment there was a shuffling of feet and a whispering that
grew to a murmur. Then out of the murmur came derisive shouts and
catcalls.
"King Hector the First!" somebody hooted. "Long live the king!"
The words could have been gratifying but the tone of voice was all
wrong.
"Where's Hector's crown?" somebody else cried. "Hey, Jack, did you
forget to bring the crown?"
"Yeah," Jack said. "I forgot. But I got a rope over on my truck. We
could elevate him that way."
Jack was obviously joking, but a group of men in another part of the
crowd pushed toward the platform. "Yeah," one of them said, "let's
string him up."
A woman at the back of the crowd screamed. Two hairy figures about five
feet tall appeared from the darkness. They were kangaroo-like, with long
tails. No one tried to stop them, and the creatures reached the platform
and pulled Hector down. They placed him between them and, their way
clear now, began to hop away.
Their hops grew longer as they reached the edge of the square. Their
leaps had become prodigious as they disappeared in the direction of
North Lake, Civek in his heavy coat looking almost like one of them.
Don Cort couldn't tell whether the creatures were kidnaping Civek or
rescuing him.
VIII
Hector Civek hadn't been found by the time Judge Helms' court convened
at 10:00 A.M.
Joe Negus was there, wearing a new suit and looking confident. His
confederate, Hank Stacy, was obviously trying to achieve the same poise
but not succeeding. Jerry Lynch, their lawyer, was talking to Ed Clark.
Don Cort took a seat the editor had saved for him in the front row. Alis
Garet came in and sat next to him. "I cut my sociology class," she told
him. "Anybody find His Majesty yet?"
"No," Don said. "Who gave him that crackpot idea?"
"He's had big ideas ever since he ran for the State Assembly. He got
licked then, but this is the first time he's been kidnaped. Or should it
be kanganaped? Poor Hector. I shouldn't joke about it."
Judge Helms, who was really a justice of the peace, came in through a
side door and the clerk banged his gavel. But the business of the court
did not get under way immediately. Someone burst in from the street and
shouted:
"He's back! Civek's back!"
The people at the rear of the room rushed out to see. In a moment they
were crowding back in behind Hector Civek's grand entrance.
"Oh, no," Alis said. "Don't tell me he made it this time!"
Civek was wearing the trappings of royalty. He walked with dignity down
the aisle, an ermine robe on his shoulders, a crown on his head and a
scepter in his right hand.
He nodded benignly about him. "Good morning, Judge," he said. To the
clerk he said, "Frank, see to our horses, will you?"
"Horses?" the clerk said, blinking.
"Our royal coach is without, and the horses need attending to," Civek
said patiently. "You don't think a king walks, do you?"
The clerk went out, puzzled. Judge Helms took off his pince-nez and
regarded the spectacle of Hector Civek in ermine.
"What is all this, Hector?" he asked. "You weren't serious about that
king business, were you? Nice to see you back safe, by the way."
"We would prefer to be addressed the first time as Your Majesty, Judge,"
Civek said. "After that you can call us sir."
"Us?" the judge asked. "Somebody with you?"
"The royal 'we,'" Civek said. "I see I'll have to issue a proclamation
on the proper forms of address. I mean, _we'll_ have to. Takes a bit of
getting used to, doesn't it?"
"Quite a bit," the judge agreed. "But right now, if you don't mind, this
court is in session and has a case before it. Suppose you make your
royal self comfortable and we'll get on with it--as soon as my clerk is
back from attending to the royal horses."
The clerk returned and whispered in the judge's ear. Helms looked at
Civek and shook his head. "Six of them, eh? I'll have a look later.
Right now we've got a bank robbery case on the calendar."
Vincent Grande talked and Jerry Lynch talked and Judge Helms listened
and looked up statutes and pursed his lips thoughtfully. Joe Negus
cleaned his nails. Hank Stacy bit his.
Finally the judge said, "I hate to admit this, but I'm afraid I must
agree with you, counselor. The alleged crime contravened no local
statute, and in the absence of a representative of the Federal
Government I must regretfully dismiss the charges."
Joe Negus promptly got up and began to walk out.
"Just a minute there, varlet!"
It was Hector Civek doing his king bit.
Negus, who probably had been called everything else in his life, paused
and looked over his shoulder.
"Approach!" Civek thundered.
"Nuts, Your Kingship," Negus said. "Nobody stops me now." But before he
got to the door something stopped him in mid-stride.
Civek had pointed his scepter at Negus in that instant. Negus, stiff as
a stop-action photograph, toppled to the floor.
"Now," Civek said, motioning to Judge Helms to vacate the bench, "we'll
dispense some royal justice."
He sat down, arranging his robes and shifting his heavy crown. "Mr.
Counselor Lynch, we take it you represent the defendants?"
"Yes, Your Majesty," said the lawyer, an adaptable man. "What happened
to Negus, sir? Is he dead?"
"He could have been, if we'd given him another notch. No, he's just
suspended. Let him be an example to anyone else who might incur our
royal wrath. Now, counselor, we are familiar enough with the case to
render an impartial verdict. We find the defendants guilty of bank
robbery."
"But Your Majesty," Lynch said, "bank robbery is not a crime under the
laws of Superior. I submit that there has been no crime--inasmuch as the
incident occurred after Superior became detached from Earth, and
therefore from its laws."
"There is the King's Law," Civek said. "We decree bank robbery a crime,
together with all other offenses against the county, state and country
which are not specifically covered in Superior's statutes."
"Retroactively?" Lynch asked.
"Of course. We will now pronounce sentence. First, restitution of the
money, except for ten per cent to the King's Bench. Second, indefinite
paralysis for Negus. We'll straighten out his arms and legs so he'll
take up less room. Third, probation for Hank Stacy here, with a warning
to him to stay out of bad company. Court's adjourned."
Civek wouldn't say where he'd got the costume or the coach-and-six or
the paralyzing scepter. He refused to say where the two kangaroo-like
creatures had taken him. He allowed his ermine to be fingered, holding
the scepter out of reach, talked vaguely about better times to come now
that Superior was a monarchy, then ordered his coach.
By royal decree Hank Stacy, who had been inching toward the door, became
royal coachman, commanded to serve out his probation in the king's
custody. Stacy drove Civek home. No one seemed to remember who had been
at the reins when the coach first appeared.
IX
Ed Clark was setting type for an extra when Don and Alis visited his
shop.
KING'S IN BUSINESS, the headline said.
"You don't sound like a loyal subject," Don said.
"Can't say I am," Clark admitted. "Guess I won't get to be a royal
printer."
"What's the story about?" Alis asked. "The splendid triumph of justice
in court this morning?"
"No. Everybody knows all about that already. I've got the inside
story--what happens next. Just like _The New York Times_."
"Where'd you get it?" Don asked.
Clark winked. "Like Scotty Reston, I am not at liberty to divulge my
sources. Let's just say it was learned authoritatively."
"Well," Alis said, "what does happen next?"
"'His Unconstitutional Majesty, King Hector I, will attempt to prop up
his shaky monarchy by seeking an ambassador from the United States, the
_Sentry_ learned today. Such recognition, if obtained, would be followed
immediately by a demand for "foreign aid."
"'It is the thesis of the self-proclaimed king--known until 24 hours ago
as just plain Hector--that the satellite status of Superior, the
traveling townoid, makes it a potentially effective arm of U. S.
diplomacy. King Hector will point out to the State Department the
benefits of bolstering Superior's economy, especially during its
expected foray over Europe and, barring such misfortune as being shot
down en route, into the Soviet domain.
"'The King will not suggest in so many words that Superior would make a
good spy platform, but the implication is there. It will also be implied
that unless economic aid--which in plain English means food and fuel to
keep Superior from starving and freezing to death--is forthcoming from
the United States, Superior may choose the path of neutrality ...'
"That's as far as I've got," Clark said.
"I suppose the 'path of neutrality' means Superior might consider hiring
itself out to the highest bidder?" Don asked.
"That would be one way of putting it," Clark said. "Undiplomatic but
accurate."
"How does Civek intend to get his message to Washington?" asked Don,
aware that it had already been transmitted to the Pentagon via the
transceiver under his collar. "Bottle over the side?"
"My sources tell me they've got WCAV working on short wave. That right,
Alis?"
"Don't ask me. I only live there."
"Do you still think Civek is fronting for the Cavalier crowd?" Don asked
her.
"I don't remember saying that," she said. "I think I agreed with you
when you said Civek was ineffectual. Who do _you_ think is behind him?
Do you think he's king of the kangaroos?"
"Well," Don said, "they're the ones who took him away last night. And
when he came back this morning he had all the trappings. He didn't get
that coach-and-six from foreign aid."
Ed Clark said, "This is all very fascinating, kids, but it's not helping
me get out my extra. Don, why don't you take the little lady out to
lunch? You can continue your theorizing over the blueplate special at
the Riverside Inn. Only place in town still open, they tell me."
* * * * *
Doc Bendy was hurrying out of the Riverside Inn as they reached it. He
waved to them. "Save your money. His Gracious Majesty is throwing a free
lunch for everybody."
"Where?"
"At the palace, of course."
"What palace?" Alis asked.
"The bubble gum factory. He's taken it over."
"Why the gum factory?"
"Cheeky McFerson offered it to him. Not the factory itself but the big
old house near the west wing. The mansion that's been closed up since
the old man died. They say Cheeky's been given a title as part of the
bargain."
"Sir Cheeky?" Alis asked, giggling.
"Something like that. Lord Chicle, maybe, or Baron de Mouthful. Come on.
It should be quite a show."
Dozens of people were in the streets, all heading in the same direction.
Word of the king's largess spread fast and, on the factory grounds,
guards were directing the crowd to a line that disappeared into a side
door of the old McFerson mansion.
A flag flew from the top of a pole at the front of the house. It was
whipping in a stiff breeze and Don couldn't make out the device, except
that a crown formed part of it.
One of the guards recognized Alis Garet and directed her to the front
door. She took Doc Bendy and Don by their arms. "Come on," she said.
"We're VIP's. Father must have sworn allegiance."
The chief of police was sitting behind a desk in the wide front hall but
he now wore a military tunic with a chestful of decorations (including
the Good Conduct Medal, Sergeant Cort noticed), and the visor of his
military cap was overrun with gold curlicues.
"Well, Vince," Bendy said. "I see you got in on the ground floor."
"General Sir Vincent Grande, Minister of Defense," Grande said with a
stiff little bow, "at your service."
"Enchanted," Bendy said, bowing back. "Tell me, Vince, how do you keep a
straight face?"
"I'll overlook that, Bendy, and I'll give you a friendly tip. The
country is on a sound basis now and we intend to keep it that way.
Obstructionists will be dealt with."
"The country, eh? Well, let's go in and see how it's being run."
A clattery hubbub came from the big room on the right. To Don it sounded
like any GI mess hall. It also looked like one. The line of people
coming in through the side door helped themselves to tin trays and
silverware, then moved slowly past a row of huge pots from which
white-coated men and women ladled out food. At the end of the serving
line stood Cheeky McFerson, splendid in purple velvet. He was putting a
piece of bubble gum on each tray.
On the other side of the room, opposite the servers, King Hector sat on
a raised chair, crown on head, scepter in hand, nodding benevolently to
anyone who looked at him. On each side of the king, sitting in lower
chairs, were members of what must have been his court. Professor Osbert
Garet was one of them, and Maynard Rubach, president of the Cavalier
Institute of Applied Sciences, was another.
"Oh, dear, there's Father," Alis said in dismay. "What is that silly hat
he's wearing? It makes him look like Merlin."
"But Civek doesn't look a bit like King Arthur," Bendy said. "Let's go
pay our respects. Straight faces, now."
"Ah, my dear," the king said when he saw Alis. "And gentlemen. Welcome
to our court. May we introduce two of our associates? Sir Osbert Garet,
Royal Astronaut, and Lord Rubach, Minister of Education."
"Father!" Alis spoke sharply to the Royal Astronaut. "How silly can you
get?"
"Now, now, child," the king said reprovingly. "You must not risk our
displeasure. For the time being our rule must be absolute--until the
safety of our kingdom has been assured. Sir Osbert," he said, "we trust
that at a more propitious time you will have a serious talk with your
charming but impetuous daughter."
"My liege, I shall deal with her," the Royal Astronaut said, glowering
at Alis. "As Your Majesty has so wisely observed, she is but a slip of a
girl."
Her father's apparent sincerity left Alis speechless. She looked from
Bendy to Don, but they seemed to consider discretion and masklike faces
the better part of candor.
"Well spoken, Sir Osbert," the king said. He clapped his hands and a
servant jumped. "Dinner for these three. Find a table, my friends, and
you will be served."
Don firmly guided Alis away. She had seemed about to explode. They found
an empty table out of earshot of the king, and three footmen looking
like refugees from _Alice in Wonderland_ immediately began to serve
them.
Bendy spread a napkin over his lap. "Let's curb our snickers and fill
our stomachs," he said, "and later we can go out behind the barn and
laugh our heads off. Meanwhile, keep your eyes open."
They were eating meat loaf and potatoes. The meat loaf was so highly
spiced that it could have been almost anything.
"I wonder where His Worship got all the grub," Alis said.
"I don't know," Don said, "but it certainly doesn't look as if he needs
any foreign aid."
Alis put down her fork suddenly and her eyes got big. She said, "You
don't suppose--"
"Suppose what?" Bendy said, spearing a small potato.
"I just had a horrible thought." She laughed feebly. "It's ridiculous,
of course, but I wondered if by any chance we were eating Joe Negus."
"Don't be silly," Don said, but he put down his fork too.
"Of course it's ridiculous," Bendy said. "Hector only put Negus to
sleep. He didn't kill him. Besides, Joe Negus wouldn't stretch far
enough to feed this crowd."
"Is that why you're not eating any more?" Alis asked him.
"Why, no," Bendy said. "It's merely that I've had enough. It's true that
Hector could have used his scepter on other transgressors, but--no, I
refuse to admit that he's turned cannibal."
"_He_ isn't eating," Don pointed out.
"I'll guarantee you he has, though. I've never known Hector to miss a
meal. No. Hector may be a fool and a dupe, and power-hungry to boot, but
he's not a cruel man, or a deranged one."
"No?" Alis said. "I dare you to ask him what's in the meat loaf."
"All right." Bendy got up. "I'll ask to see the kitchen--to compliment
the chef. Want to come?"
"No, thanks. I might be mean to Father again."
She and Don watched Doc Bendy go to the improvised throne and talk to
Civek. The king laughed and stood up and he and Bendy crossed the room.
They went through a door behind the line of servers.
Don pushed his plate away. "You've certainly spoiled my appetite."
"I'm sorry," Alis said. "Maybe it's hereditary. Look at Father in that
idiot hat. Sir Osbert! Honestly, Don, if we ever get back to Earth I'm
going to get out of Superior as fast as I can. What's it like in
Washington?"
"Dull," he said. "Humid in the summer. And when you've exhausted the
national monuments there's nothing to do."
"Nothing? Don't tell me you don't have a girl friend back there. No,
_don't_ tell me--I don't want to know. Oh, Don, what a terribly boring
place this must be for you."
"Boring!" he said. "I've never had such a wild, crazy time in my life.
Furthermore," he said, "there's nobody like you back in Washington."
She beamed. "I'd kiss you right here, only Doc Bendy's coming back.
Heck, I'll kiss you anyway."
She did.
"Ahem," said Bendy. "Also cough-cough. If you two can spare the time,
there's someone I'd like you to meet."
"We're through, for now," Alis said. "Who?"
"One of our hosts. The power behind the shaky throne of Hector the
First. I think you'll like him. He has a magnificent tail."
* * * * *
"Hector was very co-operative," Doc Bendy said. "I guess he figured he
couldn't keep it a secret for long anyhow, so he decided to be frank.
After all, half the town saw them take him away."
"You mean Civek admits he's only a figurehead?" Don asked.
"Oh, he wouldn't admit that. His story is that it's a working
arrangement--a treaty of sorts. He's absolute monarch as far as the
human inhabitants are concerned, but the kangaroos control Superior as a
piece of geography."
"I knew Father couldn't have done it," Alis murmured.
They went down a flight of stairs off the main hall to a basement room.
It was luxuriously furnished, as every room in the mansion must have
been. There was a rug over inlaid linoleum and a blazing fireplace. A
huge round mahogany table stood in the center of the room.
Hector Civek sat in one of the half-dozen leather armchairs drawn up to
the table. In another sat a furry, genial-looking blue-gray kangaroo.
Only it wasn't really a kangaroo, Don realized. It was more human than
animal in several ways. Its bearing, for instance, had dignity, and its
round eyes had intelligence. A thick tail at least three feet long stuck
through a space under the backrest of the armchair. As Doc Bendy had
said, the tail was magnificent.
Civek nodded and smiled, apparently willing to forget his flare-up at
Alis. "I'll introduce you," Civek said. "I mean _we'll_ introduce you.
Oh, the hell with the royal 'we,' as long I'm among friends. This is
Gizl, and what I'm trying to say is that he doesn't speak English.
Doesn't talk at all, as far as I can tell. But he understands the
language and he can read and write it. That's why all this."
He indicated the letter and number squares on the table. They were from
sets of games--Scrabble, Anagrams, I-Qubes, Lotto and poker dice.
"My granddaughter met Gizl, you'll recall," Doc Bendy said. "Either this
one or one like him. We don't know yet whether Gizl is a personal name
or a generic one."
"Let's find out," Don said. He sat down at the table and began to form
squares into a question.
"Wait a minute." Doc Bendy broke up Don's sequence. "The amenities
first. Spell out 'Greetings,' or some such things. Manners, boy."
"Sorry." Don started over. He spelled GREETINGS, then ALIS GARET, then
DON CORT, and pointed from the squares to Alis and himself. "I assume
you've already introduced yourself?" he asked Bendy.
Bendy nodded and the kangaroo-like creature inclined his furry head in
acknowledgment to Alis and Don. Then he--Don had already stopped
thinking of the creature as an "it"--formed two words with his tapering,
black-nailed fingers.
PLEASANT, he communicated. "GIZL." And he tapped his chest.
Don turned to Bendy. "Now can I ask him?"
"With His Majesty's permission," Bendy said solemnly.
Hector nodded. Don left the three names intact, distributing the rest,
then put three squares together to spell _Man_. He pointed to the word
and then to Civek, Bendy, Alis and himself, excluding the creature.
"Well, I like that!" Alis said. "Do I look like a man?"
"Let's keep it simple, woman," Don said.
The creature nodded and pointed again to GIZL, then to himself, "He
doesn't understand," Don said.
"It's quite possible his people don't have individual names," Bendy
said. "Let's call him Gizl for now and go on."
"Okay." Don thought for a moment, then formed a question. "Might as well
get basic," he said.
Q. ARE YOU FROM EARTH.
A. NO.
At the risk of irritating the others, Don repeated the questions and
answers aloud for the benefit of his eavesdropper in the Pentagon.
Q. ARE YOU FROM SOLAR SYSTEM
A. NOT YOURS
Q. WHEN DID YOU REACH EARTH
A. 1948 YOUR CALENDAR
Q. WHY
A. FRIENDSHIP
Q. WHY HAS NO ONE SEEN YOU SOONER
A. FEAR
Q. YOU MEAN YOU FRIGHTENED OUR PEOPLE
A. NO I MEAN FEAR OF YOUR PEOPLE
Q. WHY
A. GIZL RESEMBLE EARTH ANIMALS
Q. WAS SUPERIOR THE FIRST PLACE YOU LANDED
A. NO
Q. WHERE WAS IT
A. AUSTRALIA
"The home of the kangaroo," Doc Bendy said. "No wonder they had a bad
time. I can imagine some stockman in the outback taking umbrage at a
kangaroo asserting its equality. Let me talk to him a while, Don."
Q. HOW MANY ARE THERE OF YOU
A. MANY
Q. HOW MANY
A. NO SPECIFIC COMMENT