Short Fiction by Mack Reynolds (ready to read books .TXT) 📕

the side of his mouth and through the stubble on his chin.

“I said, how come you didn’t answer when I hollered?”

He said, “You called Paw and Hank and Zeke, you didn’t holler for me. What you got there, Maw, huh?” His watery eyes were fixed on the bundle.

Maw Coy sighed deeply and sat down on a tree stump. “Now what you think I got there, Lem? I been a bringing your vittles to you every day since Paw and you boys started up this new still. Where’s Paw and Zeke and Hank?”

Lem scratched himself with the stick he’d been whittling on. “They went off scoutin’ around for the revenooers or maybe the Martins.” He let his mouth fall open and peered wistfully into the woods. He added, “I wish I could shoot me a Martin, Maw. I wish I could. I sure wish I could shoot me a Martin.”

The idea excited him. He brought his hulking body to its feet and went over to pick up an ancient shotgun from where it leaned against a mash barrel.

Maw Coy was taking corn pone, some cold fried salt pork, and a quart of black-strap molasses from her bundle and arranging it on the top of an empty keg. “You mind yourself with that gun now, Lem. Mind how you shot up your foot that time.”

Lem didn’t hear her, he was stroking the stock of the shotgun absently. “I could do it easy,” he muttered. “I could shoot me a Martin easy. I sure could Maw. I’d show Hank and Zeke, I would.”

“You forget about the Martins, son,” Maw Coy said softly. “Yore my simple son⁠—there’s at least one in every family, mostly more⁠—and it ain’t fittin’ that you get into fights. You got a strong back, strongest in the hills, but yore too simple, Lem.”

“I ain’t as simple as Jim Martin, Maw,” Lem protested.

“Son, they don’t come no more simple than you,” his mother told him gently. “And mind that gun. You know how you bent the barrel of Zeke’s Winchester back double that time, absentminded like.”

He stroked the gun stock, patted it, half in anger, half in protest. His lower lip hung down in a pout. “You stop talkin’ thataway, Maw,” he growled, “or I’ll larrup you one.”

Maw Coy didn’t answer. She reckoned she’d better set off into the woods and see if she could locate the rest of the men folks, so they could eat.

Lem said under his breath, “I could shoot me a Martin real easy, I could.”

To the Most High, the Glorious, the Omnipotent, Omnipresent, and Omniscient, the Lord of the Seven, the Leader of the Chosen, Neo Geek XXXVIII:

In regard to: Testing of special weapons designed to eliminate present population of the third planet with the eventual view of colonizing.

From: Seegeel Wan, Commander of Space-cruiser 12B44.

Your Omnipotence:

Upon the receipt of your orders, we proceeded to the planet in question (known to its inhabitants as Earth, or Terra) first touching at its satellite (Luna) in order to pick up the observation group which has been studying the potential foe for several decals.

Commander of the observation group, Baren Darl, has enjoyed the reputation of being our most outstanding authority on Earthlings. It has been principally through his recommendations that the secret, supplementary weapons, worked upon for the past “decal,” were devised. Baren Darl has successfully deciphered the principal language of Earth and though listening to their radio emanations has compiled a formidable work on his findings. But of his abilities, more later.

It might be added here that Baren Darl and all his group were more than ready to proceed to Earth and begin the slaughter of its inhabitants. It seems that these investigators have for decals listened most carefully to every radio emanation possible to pick up. This has evidently led them to the edge of complete frenzy⁠—especially those who have been assigned the morning programs, sometimes known as “soap operas” by the Earthlings.

Baren Darl inspected the newly created weapons with considerable care and proclaimed them excellent for our purposes. In particular he was impressed with the I.Q. Depressor; the deadly poison, nark; and the lepbonic plague carrying fleas. He was convinced that these secret weapons would give our forces that advantage we seek before launching our all out attack upon Earth.

Acting on Darl’s suggestions, we avoided the more heavily populated areas of Earth and landed our Space-cruiser in a mountainous area of the planet known as Kentucky, a subdivision of the United States of America, one of the more advanced Earth nations.

Our plans did not work out exactly as expected.

Keeping well in mind the need for secrecy, we made every attempt to land the Space-cruiser without detection. We settled in a small valley near a stream and immediately sent out scouts to determine if there was any sign that our craft had been sighted in descent.

Evidently, the population of the vicinity was so small that our plans were successful. Our patrols reported only one small group of Earthlings in the immediate area.

Deciding to test the new weapons on this gathering, we disembarked a force of a dozen warriors, all disguised as Earthlings and with myself as commander and Baren Darl as our technical advisor.

“We must keep our senses alert for Sam Spade, Superman and the Lone Ranger,” Baren Darl said nervously, peering around among the strange exotic trees and other vegetation that grows on Earth.

I was somewhat surprised at his tone and obvious unease.

“Who?” I asked. “What?”

“Three Terran warriors of amazing ability and viciousness,” he told me. “I have been gathering reports of their activities from the radio for some time. They seem to have clairvoyant minds; one or the other of them almost invariably appears on the scene of violence.”

I said impatiently, “Without doubt, our weapons would mean the end of these warriors.”

I did not share his belief that any Earthling warriors might be our equals or superiors, but to remain on the cautious side, I immediately ordered that the Elect-no