Back to Julie

  Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online DistributedProofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction May 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.

  Back to Julie

  By RICHARD WILSON

  Illustrated by VIDMER

  _The side-shuffle is no dance step. It's the choice between making time... and doing time!_

  You can't go shooting off to _that_ dimension for peanuts. I don'twant to give you the impression that peanuts are in short supply here,or that our economy is in the fix of having to import them sidewise.What I'm trying to convey is that, if you're one of the rare onesfunctionally equipped to do the side-shuffle, you ought to be wellpaid for it--in any coin.

  That's what I told Krasnow. And he wasn't after peanuts. "I'll do it,"I said, "if you'll make it worth my while."

  "I'd hardly expect you to do it for nothing," he repliedreproachfully. "How much do you want?"

  I told him. The amount shook him up, but only briefly.

  "Okay," he said grudgingly. "I suppose I'll have to give it to you.But the stuff had better be good."

  "Oh, it is," I assured him. "And you don't have to be afraid, becauseI couldn't possibly skip with the loot. I'll have to travel naked. Ican't get there with so much as a sandal on one foot or a filling in asingle tooth. Fortunately, my teeth are perfect."

  Sweat poured off Krasnow's florid face as he worked the combination ofhis office safe. His fat jowls quivered unhappily around his cigarwhile he counted out the bills. Ten per cent was cash in advance, andthe rest went into a bank account in my name. I paid off a batch ofbills, then stripped and did my off-to-Buffalo.

  * * * * *

  "Honest" John Krasnow was a crooked District Attorney who wanted to beGovernor and then President. He had the Machine, but he didn't havethe People. And, because he needed the People, he needed me. I hadbeen to this other dimension--the one on the farthest branch of thetime-tree--and I could give him what he wanted.

  Krasnow found out about it after I was hauled up in front of him on acheck-kiting charge. I'd had something of a reputation before I gotinto difficulties and, in trying to live up to the reputation, I haddone some plain and fancy financing. Nothing that fifteen to twentygrand wouldn't have fixed--but while I scrounged around, trying to getcash, I kited a few checks. They pyramided me right into the D.A.'soffice, where Krasnow was properly sympathetic.

  "How," he asked, "could a man of your standing in the scientific worldstoop so low?" It developed into quite a lecture and, even coming fromKrasnow, it made me feel pretty low.

  So I began explaining. I told him where I was born, and where I wentto school, and where I had taken my sabbaticals--including this otherdimension. And Krasnow believed me. I can't account for it, exceptpossibly because he knew he was a crook and knew I wasn'tone--exactly. Anyway, he believed me, and we made the deal and I didthe side-shuffle, as agreed.

  The journey to that other dimension is not a pleasant one. It doesdisturbing things to the stomach, and you see everything thin andelongated, as if you're sitting too far to the side in a movietheater.

  I got there, however, and waited for the hiccups to subside. _Hiccupilaterali_, I had called them when I considered writing an article forthe _Medical Journal_ after my first trip. With the hiccupi gone, Istole some clothing--which was one of the riskiest parts of theprogram--and waited for morning. I didn't have any money, of course,so I had to hitchhike into town.

  I could have stolen myself a better fit, but people aren'tclothes-conscious in that dimension. They're more interested in whatyou are and what you can do. The driver of the car that gave me a liftasked, "And what is your field of endeavor?"

  I told him, "I am able to eliminate the long wait in ivory productionby accelerating the growth cycle of elephants."

  He was deeply impressed and tipped me handsomely. I was less impressedwith his talent for growing cobless corn, and therefore had to returnonly a small part of the sum he gave me.

  The world of this dimension had developed some remarkable parallels toEarth. I mean our Earth, which falls into what I have designatedTimeline One Point One, since it's the Earth with which I am mostfamiliar. Every other world that has a language calls itself Earth,too. I had to visit briefly hundreds of the lateral worlds, hoveringover primordial swamps, limitless oceans, insect kingdoms andradioactive planetoids, before I found the one that was trulyparallel.

  It existed in Timeline Seventeen Point Zero Eight, and it hadrefrigerators, platinum blondes, automobiles, airplanes, apple pie,tabloids, television, scotch and soda--just about everything we thinkmakes life worthwhile. But it had its little differences, which wasonly to be expected in a timeline where the bionomics could create anew world each time someone changed his mind.

  Thus, the cobless-corn man was driving what looked to me like aChevrolet, but which was a Morton in his world. He let me off near adowntown restaurant where, thanks to our little exchange of talenttalk, I had enough money for breakfast. It was considered unethical toswap talent talk outside the limits of certain rigidly defined groups,so I didn't try to out-impress the waitress.

  * * * * *

  Fed, and filling my stolen clothes a bit better, I walked to therecorder's office and spent the rest of the morning looking up olddocuments. There was nothing there for Krasnow, as I had expected. Butfor me there was a very pretty file clerk. Talking to her, I verifiedmy impression that human instincts and relationships were much thesame in this dimension as in my own--except in the one basic respectthat interested Krasnow, of course.

  The file clerk and I lunched together and then I spent the afternoonin the library. But I didn't find anything there, either, and then Ihad dinner with her. She said her name was Julie. I told her mine wasHeck, for Hector, which it is. She thought this was "awfully cute" andwe got along fine.

  Julie had a delightful apartment and a matching sense of hospitality.The following day, when she went to work, I stayed home and washed thedishes and made the bed and used the telephone.

  I ran up quite a bill with my long-distance calls, but I found outwhat I needed to know. I impressed a lot of people with my elephantstory and pretended to be impressed hardly at all with what they toldme they did--although often I was, very much.

  The trouble with these people is that they no longer know how to lie,if that can be listed as trouble. I don't think it can. Neither didKrasnow, obviously. He'd never have sent me off on my expensiveside-trip if he had.

  Of course, Krasnow looked at it objectively. What he wanted fromTimeline Seventeen Point Zero Eight was not for himself. It was foreverybody else. He wanted the formula for the truth gas these peoplehad developed long ago and loosed upon their world to put a stop towars.

  They had been in a bad way, although no worse than the sort of problemwe were up against. Their trans-ocean squabbles and power politicsseemed to have settled into a pattern of a war or two per generation.Just like us. Hence, the man who invented the truth gas became aglobal hero, after a certain amount of cynicism and skepticism. Allthe doubts vanished, naturally, once the gas got to working. And sodid war.

  You can't do much plotting and scheming if, every time you open yourmouth to tell a lie, you stammer, sweat, turn red and gasp for breath.It's a dead giveaway. Nobody tries it more than once.

  One or two men had tried to nullify the gas or work out a localantidote, either as a pure research project or through power-madness.But, because they had had to state their purposes as soon as theythought of them, they were put away. Neat. Very neat.

>   What I wanted was the formula for the truth gas. Its location wasn'texactly a secret in this land of complete candor, but it wasn't writlarge on any wall for all to see, either. They kept it in theircapital--located about where our Omaha is--on file among the VitalStatistics.

  I took a superjet out there.

  * * * * *

  I had no trouble posing as a historian entitled to the facts. The gasdidn't work on me, you see, because it was adjusted to the physiologyof that timeline. There was just enough difference between us for itnot to make me stick to the truth.

  "We'll write out the formula for you," I was told obligingly. "Butyou'll have to sign the usual statement."

  "Of course," I said. "Which one is that?"

  "The one that says you won't publish it, and will destroy your copywhen it has served your research purpose, without letting anyone elsesee it."

  "Oh, _that_ statement," I said.

  I signed freely, told my elephant story and departed in an aura ofgood will.

  The jet got me back that same evening. Julie fixed me up a snack, andwe discussed how pretty she was and how nice I was.

  I had everything Krasnow wanted now. I felt pretty good about it,because there was nobody else who could have done the job for him, andbecause it wasn't spying, really. Earth One Point One on the Timelineis world enough for Krasnow, I'm sure. Besides, dimensions don't havewars with one another. Too many things can go wrong.

  Julie was lovely and I hated to leave the next morning, but it was myjob. I told her, "I'm afraid I have to leave town for a bit, dear, butI'll be back very soon. Business, you know."

  Being a Seventeen Point Zero Eight girl, Julie had no reason to doubtme. "Make it _very_ soon," she whispered, her lips close to my ear.

  So I came back, and now Krasnow has what he wants. He's delighted, ashe should be. I've made up the gas for him and adjusted the formula sothat it will work on people of our timeline. It's high-power stuff anda little will go a long way. I also made up an antidote for him. Thiswas easy, since I could work on it without feeling any compulsion totell everybody what I was doing and why.

  Krasnow plans to release the truth gas just before the stateconvention. He'll be nominated, of course, and after November he'llbe Governor. With everyone else compelled to tell the truth, it shouldbe a cinch for him. He's a patient man, Honest John Krasnow is, andhe's willing to wait four years for the Presidency.

  I ought to be happy too. With the money Krasnow gave me, I've beenliving in the style to which I've always wanted to be accustomed. Hehas offered me a place on his staff and, somewhat superfluously, theuse of his antidote. Naturally, the reason he was so magnanimous wasthat he doesn't want anyone else around who knows his gimmick andmight have to tell the truth about it.

  But I have had enough of this dimension now--now that Krasnow has whatI promised him. He's going to use it tomorrow. And if I know HonestJohn--and I do--not even the Presidency will be big enough for him.

  So I'm going back to Julie.

  * * * * *

  There are some obvious questions in your mind, I know, such as: Whydid I get the formula for Krasnow, knowing there was no way for him toprosecute me while I was in Julie's dimension? And what made me comeback?

  In short--what was in it for me?

  Let's call it research. Krasnow is a big-time operator; I've alwaysbeen, you might say, in the peanut end of the game. He had a greatdeal to teach me and I, I'm happy to say, was an apt pupil. You mightspeculate on what's in it for you, because, if you ask me, anybody whocan do the side-shuffle should do it before Krasnow becomes President.

  However, don't go to Seventeen Point Zero Eight unless you want toswap one Krasnow for another. The fact is that I've learned I can beone in Julie's dimension. After all, their formula doesn't work onme--but I can assure you that it will work on you.

  And that elephant story I told on my last visit is, as I've indicated,in the peanut category. All Krasnow has is a country. I'll have awhole world.

  There's nothing like study under a master, is there?

  I should be back to Julie by midnight if I start now.

  --RICHARD WILSON