The Rule of the Door and Other Fanciful Regulations. Lloyd Biggle jr.

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СКАЧАТЬ weight against it shrieked and kicked and clawed and finally slumped to the floor sobbing brokenly. Skarn and Dork’s disgust abruptly changed to disbelief. The Door was rejecting him.

      Skarn returned with the food and a supply of liquor, and Adams ate little and drank much, drank himself into a reeking, slobbering intoxication and collapsed. Skarn examined his unconscious body doubtfully and finally became sufficiently alarmed to call Sam White.

      “I have Jim Adams here for dinner,” he said, “and—”

      The chief chuckled. “Say no more. I’ll send someone to collect him.”

      A police officer hauled away Adams’s inert form, leaving Skarn both relieved and puzzled.

      “And just how do you account for the Door not taking him?” Dork demanded.

      “I don’t,” Skarn said. “I can’t account for it at all.”

      * * * *

      Elmer Harley arrived in a belligerent mood, thumping rudely on the door, making no motion to accept Skarn’s outstretched hand, and ignoring his invitation to enter. “Mind telling me why you asked me out here?”

      “I’m getting acquainted with some of the people of Centertown,” Skarn said uneasily. “I hope that the invitation does not offend you.”

      Harley shrugged and offered his hand. “Just wondered. I heard you had Jim Adams here, and let him drink himself to the gills.”

      “Yes, but—”

      “And before that you entertained the mayor and Sam White?”

      “Yes.”

      “And now me. It doesn’t make sense.”

      “How much of life does make sense?”’

      Harley grinned. “You said a mouthful there,” he announced bitterly.

      He followed Skarn into the living room. “I’ll bring in the food,” Skarn said. “The liquor is in the middle closet. Pick out what you’d like to have.”

      A moment later, watching from the laboratory, Skarn and Dork saw him push once on the Door, hard, and then walk over to a sofa and sit down.

      Dork stomped off to his bedroom, and Skarn returned to the living room with the serving cart

      “The door’s locked,” Harley said.

      “It doesn’t have a lock,” Skarn replied. “I’m afraid it’s stuck. I’ve been having trouble with it.”

      Harley bounced to his feet “That so? I’ll take a look at it”

      He applied his shoulder to the Door. A moment later he backed away, red-faced and breathing heavily. “It’s really stuck. If you have some tools, I’ll see what I can do about it”

      “It’s not that important,” Skarn said.

      Harley stepped to the next closet. He pushed the thick door inward and peered admiringly at the hinges. “That’s really slick. Slides the door back and then lets it open. Never saw anything like it. Is the other door hung like this one?”

      “Why, yes,” Skarn said.

      Harley moved the door slowly, watching the action of the hinges. “That’s really slick,” he said again. “I don’t see how anything could have gone wrong. Did you make these things yourself?”

      Skarn maintained an embarrassed silence.

      “You ought to patent them. There might be some money in it”

      “Our food will be getting cold,” Skarn said.

      “No kidding. Safes and refrigerators, things with thick doors—they could use a hinge like that. If I was you, I’d patent it.”

      “Thank you for the suggestion. I’ll consider it.”

      Harley ate hungrily, accepting second and third helpings, and afterward he relaxed and talked about automobiles. Skarn listened attentively and managed an occasional smoke ring.

      Harley knew automobiles. He discussed them collectively and individually, their good points and weak points, their trade-in values, their economy or lack of it, where they were most likely to break down and why.

      “When you get around to buying a car,” he said, “ask me. I can keep you from going wrong on a new one, and if it’s a used one, I can tell you if you’re getting your money’s worth.”

      “I’ll remember that,” Skarn promised. “I’ve heard that you are a very good mechanic.”

      “I get by.”

      “With so many automobiles to work on, a good mechanic should do well.”

      “Not in Centertown,” Harley said grimly. “Not unless he’s willing to go along with the crooks that own the garages.”

      Skarn studied him bewilderedly. He was a muscular man of medium height. His suit was worn but freshly pressed, his dark hair neatly trimmed. The fine scar line that curved around his left cheek was noticeable but not disfiguring. He was clean-shaven. He looked respectable.

      Skarn could not envision him as the man the report described.

      Nor in a specimen bottle. “If you had your life to live over,” he said, “is there anything you’d do differently?”

      Harley smiled wistfully. “There isn’t much that I wouldn’t do differently.”

      “For example?”

      “I pulled a couple of jobs when I was young. Small stuff, but I did some time. Now, whenever anything happens, the police come looking for me. Ex-con, you know. I can’t get a decent job. I shouldn’t have come back to Centertown, but my mother was here, and just coming out of the pen that way I couldn’t make a home for her anywhere else. She died four years ago and I’m still here. In a rut”

      * * * *

      Dork had returned to the laboratory. Skarn found him there after Harley left, glumly looking at the view of the darkened living room. “I heard,” Dork said. “He loved his mother. That is considered an overpowering virtue among these creatures.”

      “Perhaps so,” Skarn said.

      “Invite one of them back,” Dork urged earnestly. “Any one. We can put the Door on manual and shove him through and have done with it. This planet will be a better place, and in Old Kegor’s museum he’ll at least have some slight ornamental value. And we can go home.”

      “No!” Skarn said sharply. “We must not contest the wisdom of the Great Kom.”

      “Then what are you going to do?”

      “I don’t know. I must think the matter out carefully. Perhaps there are no evil creatures in Centertown, and we must search elsewhere.”

      Dork СКАЧАТЬ