Show Business, Page 2

friend, you catch on quick." He raised apaw. "Now, don't at conclusions jump. Let me exblain. At first, I didnot believe it either.

  "Dey sprang it with no warning. Onto de stage came a _tllooll_ (you knowhim, I t'ink), and a _shiyooch'iid_. The _shiyooch'iid_ was riding abicycle--I mean a monocle. One wheel. The _tllooll_ moved just asawkward as he always does, and tried to ride a tandem four-wheeledvehicle which had been especially for him made."

  In spite of my resolve, I chuckled. The picture of a _tllooll_ trying toride a four-wheeled bicycle, pumping each of his eight three-jointedlegs up and down in turn, while maintaining his usual supercilious andindifferent facial expression, was irresistibly funny.

  "Wait!" said my friend, and again raised a paw. "You have as yet not'ingheard. They make jokes at same time. De _shiyooch'iid_ asks de_tllooll_, 'Who was dat _tlloolla_ I saw you wit' up the Canal?' and the_tllooll_ replies, 'Dat was no _tlloolla_, dat was my _shicai_.'"

  I doubled up, laughing. Unless you have visited Mars this may not strikeyou as funny, but I collapsed into a heap. I put my head on the tableand wept with mirth.

  It seemed like five minutes before I was able to speak. "Oh, no!"

  "Yes, yes, I tell you. Yes!" insisted my friend. He even smiled himself.

  * * * * *

  If you don't know the social system of the Martians there is no point inmy trying to explain why the idea of a _tllooll's_ being out with thatneuter of neuters, a _shicai_, is so devastatingly funny. But that,suddenly, was not quite the point.

  _Did it happen?_ I had large doubts. Nobody had ever heard a _tllooll_make any sort of a sound, and it was generally supposed that they had novocal chords. And no _shiyooch'iid_ (they somewhat resemble a biggroundhog, and live in burrows along the canals of Mars) had ever beenheard to make any noise except a high-pitched whistle when frightened.

  "Now, just a minute, Dworken," I said.

  "I know, my vriend. I know. You t'ink it is impossible. You t'ink thetalking is faked. So I t'ought too. But vait."

  It seems Dworken had inquired among the audience as to who owned theperforming animals. The local Martians were not as impressed as he waswith the performance, but they guided him to the proprietor of thetrained animal act. He was a young Martian, hawk-nosed, with flashingblack eyes, dusky skin, and curly hair.

  "So I say to him, dis Martian," Dworken continued, "'If your act on thelevel is, I buy.' I had three small diamonds with," he explained.

  "But de Martian was hard to deal wit'. First, he said he vould not sellhis so-valuable and so-beloved animals. De only talking animals on Mars,he said--de liar! At long last I get him to make a price. But, oncondition dat he bring ze animals around to my inn in the morning, for aprivate audition."

  "I suppose," I interrupted, "you were beginning to have some doubts asto the Martian's good faith? After all, a talking _tllooll_ and atalking _shiyooch'iid_ all at one time is quite a lot to ask. I wouldhave--"

  "Blease, vriend, blease!" interrupted my companion. "Do you not t'inkold Dworken knows dese things? Of course he does! I t'ink. De owner, heis pulling a fake, I guess. I know dat animals do not really talk.

  "Next morning, I t'ink he no show up. But no, I am mistaken. Bromptly atnine o'clock he come to my inn with a little dogcart, wit' de animals.He puts dem on de stage in de bar of de inn. They act like before."

  "But they didn't talk, of course?"

  "Oh, my vriend, dat's where you are wrong. Dey talk like nobotty'sbusiness. De jokes are funnier than ever. Even dirtier, maybe. ButDworken is not fooled. He t'ink. 'Aha!' I say to de Martian, 'You fakethis, what? De animals not talk. Suppose you have them do de act whileyou outside stay, what?' Then I t'ink I have him.

  "Ze Martian tear his curly hair, flash his black eyes. He takes insultthat I t'ink he is fake. 'Name of de Martian gods!' he cry. But at lasthe agree to go away, and tell animals to go ahead."

  "Dworken, you were a sap to string along with him even that far," I saidwearily. "I hope you hadn't paid the guy any money."

  He shook his head. "No, my old and best," he said. "Dworken no fool is,even on Mars. No, no money. But wait! De animals go on without theowner. Same stage business, same talk, same jokes, and even funnieryedt. What?"

  I started at Dworken. He did not smile, but finished off the eleventh_shchikh_--the fifth I had bought him.

  "Listen," I said. "Are you sitting there telling me you have a _tllooll_and a _shiyooch'iid_ that can really talk?"

  "You listen, my vriend. Like you, I t'ink something is wrong. I say toMartian owner, 'My vriend, maybe I buy your act, if you tell me how itis done. But you know as well as I do dat it is impossible to deseanimals to talk. Tell me what is de trick?'"

  Dworken lifted his glass and shook it, as though he could not believe itwas empty, then looked at me questioningly. I shook my head. He snorted,looked melancholy, writhed up from his chair and reached for his furcape.

  "Vell, thanks for de drinks," he said.

  A dark suspicion crept into my mind, but I could not restrain myself.

  "Wait, Dworken!" I shouted. "You can't just leave me up in the air likethat! What happened then?"

  Dworken snorted into his green handkerchief.

  "De Martian admitted it was a fake, after all," he said mournfully. "Canyou imachine it? What a chiseler!

  "'De _shiyooch'iid_,' he said, 'can't really talk; de _tllooll_ justt'rows his voice!'"

  THE END

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from _If Worlds of Science Fiction_ November 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.