Various Fiction Read online

  O

  The Obsidian Mirror, BIGNews, October 2002

  The Odor of Thought, Star Science Fiction Stories, No. 2, February 1953

  Off-Limits Planet, Imagination, May 1954

  The Ogre Test, Planet Stories, Summer 1954, July 1954

  The Old Curiosity Shop, BIGNews, September 2004

  Omega! (First of Two Parts), Amazing Science Fiction Stories, August 1960

  Omega! (Conclusion), Amazing Science Fiction Stories, September 1960

  The Omega Egg (part 4 of 17), The Omega Egg, May 2005

  On an Experience in a Cornfield, BIGNews, November 2002

  One Man’s Poison, Galaxy Science Fiction, December 1953

  Onesday, Pulphouse: The Hardback Magazine, Issue Ten: Winter 1991, March 1991

  Operating Instructions, Astounding Science Fiction, May 1953

  The Other Mars, The Bradbury Chronicles, November 1991

  P

  Pandora’s Box—Open with Care, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, September 2000

  Paradise II, Time to Come, April 1954

  Paradise II, (UK revised version), New Worlds Science Fiction #37, July 1955

  The Paris-Ganymede Clock, The Modern Babylon, March 2005

  The People Trap, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, June 1968

  The Perfect Woman, Amazing Stories, December 1953-January 1954, December 1953

  The Petrified World, If, February 1968

  Plague Circuit, Can You Feel Anything When I Do This?, December 1971

  Potential, Astounding Science Fiction, November 1953

  Pousse Cafe, This Day’s Evil, August 1967

  Primordial Follies, The Last Dangerous Visions [unpublished book]

  Privilege of Age, BIGNews, March 2003

  The Prize of Peril, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, May 1958

  Proof of the Pudding, Galaxy Science Fiction, August 1952

  Prospector’s Special, Galaxy Science Fiction, December 1959

  Protection, Galaxy Science Fiction, April 1956

  Q

  The Quijote Robot, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, December 2001

  R

  The Rabbi from Perdido, Ritorno nell’universo, June 1991

  Rapunzel—The True Story, Rotten Relations, December 2004

  Reborn Again, The Infinite Matrix, January 8, 2005

  Redfern’s Labyrinth, The People Trap, December 1968

  The Refuge Elsewhere, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, May 2003

  Restricted Area, Amazing Stories, June-July 1953, June 1953

  The Resurrection Machine, Time Gate, December 1989

  Ritual, Untouched By Human Hands, March 1954

  Robotgnomics, Omni, December 1984

  Robotvendor Rex, Omni, February 1986

  The Robot Who Looked Like Me, Cosmopolitan, August 1973

  S

  The Same to You Doubled, Playboy, March 1970

  Sarkanger, The Collected Short Fiction of Robert Sheckley: Book Five, September 1991

  Scenes from the Contest, You Bet Your Planet, March 2005

  The Scheherezade Machine, Pulphouse: A Weekly Magazine, June 1-December 31, 1991

  The Seal of Solomon, The Crafters, December 1991

  Seven Soup Rivers, Galaxy, January 1995

  Seventh Victim, Galaxy Science Fiction, April 1953

  The Shaggy Average American Man Story, Is That What People Do?, August 1984

  Shall We Have a Little Talk?, Galaxy Science Fiction, October 1965

  Shoes, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, February 2002

  Shootout in the Toy Shop, Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone Magazine, October 1981

  Sightseeing, 2179, The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction,, June 2002

  Silversmith Wishes, Playboy, May 1977

  Simul City, Dangerous Interfaces, October 1990

  Simulacrum, Golden Age SF: Tales of a Bygone Future, August 2006

  The Skag Castle, Fantastic Universe, March 1956

  Skulking Permit, Galaxy Science Fiction, December 1954

  The Slaves of Time, Nova 4, 1974

  The Slow Season, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, October 1954

  Sneak Previews, Penthouse, August 1977

  Something for Nothing, Galaxy Science Fiction, June 1954

  Spacemen in the Dark, Climax!, April 1953

  The Special Exhibit, Esquire, October 1953

  Specialist, Galaxy Science Fiction, May 1953

  Spectator Playoffs, Night Cry, Spring 1987

  Spy Story, Playboy, September 1955

  Squirrel Cage, Galaxy Science Fiction, January 1955

  The Stand on Luminos, Battlestation, July 1992

  Starting from Scratch, The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, November 1970

  Street of Dreams, Feet of Clay, Galaxy Magazine, February 1968

  Subsistence Level, Galaxy Science Fiction, August 1954

  Svengali in Westchester, Argosy, [UK] December 1959

  The Swamp, Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone Magazine, July 1981

  The Sweeper of Loray, Galaxy Magazine, April 1959

  The Sympathetic Doctor, BIGNews, Summer 2003

  Syncope and Fugue, Galaxy, July 1975

  T

  Tailpipe to Disaster, Can You Feel Anything When I Do This?, December 1971

  The Tales of Zanthias, Weird Tales, July 2003

  There Will Be No War After This One, The Collected Short Fiction of Robert Sheckley: Book Five, September 1991

  The Three Cigars, Civil War Fantastic, July 2000

  Three Sinners in the Green Jade Moon, Playboy, August 1971

  Time Check for Control, Climax, March 1953

  Time Killer (Beginning A 4-Part Serial), Galaxy Magazine, October 1958

  Time Killer (Second of Four Parts), Galaxy Magazine, November 1958

  Time Killer (Third Part of Four), Galaxy Magazine, December 1958

  Time Killer (Conclusion of Four Parts), Galaxy Magazine, February 1959

  Traitors’ Saga, Counterattack, December 1988

  Trap, Galaxy Science Fiction, February 1956

  Triplication, Playboy, May 1959

  Tripout, Can You Feel Anything When I Do This?, December 1971

  Trojan Hearse, The Far Stars Wars, July 1990

  The Two Sheckleys, Gateways, June 2005

  U

  Ultimatum!, Future Science Fiction, November 1953

  Uncle Tom’s Planet, Galaxy Science Fiction, December 1954

  The Universal Karmic Clearing House, Playboy, January 1986

  V

  The Victim from Space, Galaxy Science Fiction, April 1957

  Visions of the Green Moon, Moon Shots, July 1999

  Voices, Playboy, October 1973

  W

  Warm, Galaxy Science Fiction, August 1953

  Warrior Race, Galaxy Science Fiction, November 1952

  Warrior’s Return, Galaxy Science Fiction, November 1955

  Watchbird, Galaxy Science Fiction, February 1953

  We Are Alone, Future Science Fiction, November 1952

  Welcome to the Standard Nightmare, Nova 3, 1973

  What a Man Believes, Fantastic, November-December 1953, November 1953

  What Goes Up, Science Fiction Adventures, May 1953

  What is Life?, Playboy, December 1976

  Wild Talents, Inc, Fantastic, September-October 1953, September 1953

  The Wish, Rod Serling’s The Twilight Zone Magazine, April 1981

  The World of Heart’s Desire, Playboy, September 1959

  Wormworld, The Collected Short Fiction of Robert Sheckley: Book Five, September 1991

  Writing Class, Imagination, December 1952

  X

  Xolotl, Xolotl, January 1991

  Z

  Zirn Left Unguarded, the Jenghik Palace in Flames, Jon Westerley Dead, Nova 2, October 1972

  SHORT FICTION SERIES

  AAA Ace

  M
ilk Run

  Ghost V

  The Laxian Key

  Squirrel Cage

  The Lifeboat Mutiny

  The Necessary Thing

  The Skag Castle

  Sarkanger

  Meanwhile, Back at the Bromide

  Desperate Chase

  Disguised Agent

  The Locked Room

  Meanwhile, Back at the Bromide

  Time Gate

  The Resurrection Machine

  Simul City

  I do think that short story writing

  is often a matter of luck.

  ROBERT SHECKLEY

  1952

  FEAR IN THE NIGHT

  She heard herself screaming as she woke up and knew she must have been screaming for long seconds. It was cold in the room but she was covered with perspiration; it rolled down her face and shoulders, down the front of her nightgown. Her back was damp with sweat and the sheet beneath her was damp.

  Immediately she began to shiver.

  “Are you all right?” her husband asked.

  For a few moments she couldn’t answer. Her knees were drawn up and she coiled her arms tightly around them, trying to stop shuddering. Her husband was a dark mass beside her, a long dark cylinder against the faintly glimmering sheet. Looking at him, she began trembling again.

  “Will it help if I snap on the light?” he asked.

  “No!” she said sharply. “Don’t move—please!”

  And then there was only the steady ticking of the clock, but somehow that was filled with menace also.

  “Did it happen again?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Just the same. For Lord’s sake, don’t touch me!” He had started to move toward her, dark and sinuous against the sheet, and she was trembling violently again.

  “The dream,” he began cautiously, “was it . . . was I . . .?” Delicately, he left it unvoiced, shifting his position on the bed slightly, carefully so she wouldn’t be frightened.

  But she was getting a grip on herself again. She unclenched her hands, putting the palms hard and flat against the bed.

  “Yes,” she said. “The snakes again. They were crawling all over me. Big ones and little ones, hundreds of them. The room was filled with them and more were coming in the door, through the windows. The closet was filled with snakes, so full they were coming under the door onto the floor—”

  “Easy,” he said. “Sure you want to talk about it?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Want the light on yet?” he asked her gently.

  She hesitated, then said, “Not yet. I don’t dare just yet.”

  “Oh,” he said in a tone of complete understanding. “Then the other part of the dream—”

  “Yes.”

  “Look, perhaps you shouldn’t talk about it.”

  “Let’s talk about it.” She tried to laugh but it came out a cough. “You’d think I’d be getting used to it. For how many nights now?”

  The dream always began with the little snake, slowly crawling across her arm, watching her with evil red eyes. She flung it from her, sitting up in bed. Then another slithered across the covers, fatter, faster. She flung that one away too, getting quickly out of bed and standing on the floor. Then there was one under her foot and then one was coiled in her hair, over her eyes, and through the now-opened door came still more, forcing her back on the bed, screaming, reaching for her husband.

  But in the dream her husband wasn’t there. In the bed beside her, a long dark cylinder against the faintly glimmering sheets, was a tremendous snake. She didn’t realize it until her arms were around it.

  “Turn on the light now,” she commanded. Her muscles contracted, straining against each other as light flooded the room. Her thighs tensed, ready to hurl her out of bed if . . .

  But it was her husband after all.

  “Dear Lord,” she breathed and relaxed completely, sagging against the mattress.

  “Surprised?” he asked her, grinning wryly.

  “Each time,” she told him, “each time I’m sure you won’t be there. I’m sure there’ll be a snake there.” She touched his arm just to make sure.

  “You see how foolish it all is?” he said softly, soothingly. “If only you would forget. If you would only have confidence in me these nightmares would pass.”

  “I know,” she said, drinking in the details of the room. The little telephone table was immensely reassuring with its litter of scribbled lists and messages. The scarred mahogany bureau was an old friend, as was the little radio, and the newspaper on the floor. And how sane her emerald-green dress was, thrown carelessly across the slipper chair!

  “The doctor told you the same thing,” he said. “When we were having our trouble you associated me with everything that went wrong, everything that hurt you. And now that our troubles are over, you still do.”

  “Not consciously,” she said, “I swear, not consciously.”

  “But you do it all the same,” he insisted. “Remember when I wanted the divorce? When I told you I’d never loved you? Remember how you hated me then, even though you wouldn’t let me go?” He paused for breath. “You hated Helen and me. That has taken its toll. The hate has remained under our reconciliation.”

  “I don’t believe I ever hated you,” she said. “Only Helen—that skinny little monkey!”

  “Mustn’t speak ill of those departed from trouble,” he murmured.

  “Yes,” she said thoughtfully. “I suppose I drove her to that breakdown. I can’t say I’m sorry. Do you think she’s haunting me?”

  “You mustn’t blame yourself,” he said. “She was high-strung, nervous, artistic. A neurotic type.”

  “I’ll get over all this now that Helen’s gone.” She smiled at him and the lines of worry on her forehead vanished. “I’m so crazy about you,” she murmured, running her fingers through his light-brown hair. “I’d never let you go.”

  “You’d better not.” He smiled back at her. “I don’t want to go.”

  “Just help me.”

  “With all I’ve got.” He bent forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “But, darling, unless you get over these nightmares—featuring me as the principal villain—I’ll have to—”

  “Don’t say it,” she murmured quickly. “I can’t bear the thought. And we are past the bad time.”

  He nodded.

  “You’re right, though,” she said. “I think I’ll try a different psychiatrist. I can’t stand much more of this. These dreams, night after night.”

  “And they’re getting worse,” he reminded her, frowning. “At first it was only once in a while but now it’s every night. Soon, if you don’t do something, it’ll be—”

  “All right,” she said. “Don’t talk about it.”

  “I have to. I’m getting worried. If this snake fixation keeps up, you’ll be taking a knife to me while I’m asleep one of these nights.”

  “Never,” she told him. “But don’t talk about it. I want to forget it. I don’t think it’ll happen again. Do you?”

  “I hope not,” he said.

  She reached across him and turned off the light, kissed him and closed her eyes.

  After a few minutes she turned over on her side. In half an hour she rolled over again, said something incoherent and was quiet. After twenty minutes more she had shrugged one shoulder but, other than that, made no motion.

  Her husband was a dark mass beside her, propped up on one elbow. He lay in the darkness, thinking, listening to her breathe, hearing the tick of the clock. Then he stretched out at full length.

  Slowly he untied the cord of his pajamas and pulled until he had a foot of it free. Then he drew back the covers. Very gently he rolled toward her with the cord in his hand, listening to her breathing. He placed the cord against her arm. Slowly, allowing himself seconds to an inch, he pulled the cord along her arm.

  Presently she moaned.

  FINAL EXAMINATION

  If you saw the stars in the sky vanishing by the m
illions, and knew you had but five days to prepare for your judgment—what would you do?

  I suppose it started some time back, even before the astronomers discovered it, and certainly long before I found out. How far back I have no idea; thousands of years, perhaps, or more. But the first I knew about it was one March evening, when I opened the newspaper.

  Jane was in the kitchen, cleaning up, and I was settled back in the easy chair, reading through the lead articles. I skimmed through all the war talk, price controls, suicides, murders, and then glanced through the rest of the paper. One small article in the back caught my eye.

  ASTRONOMERS LOSING STARS, the caption read. It was a human-interest story I suppose, because it went on in that maddening coy style the newspapers use for that sort of stuff.

  “Dr. Wilhelm Mentzner, at the Mount St. James Observatory, says that he has been unable, in recent weeks, to find some of the Milky Way stars. It would seem, Dr. Mentzner tells us, that they have vanished. Repeated photographs of certain portions of space do not show the presence of these dim, faraway stars. They were in place and intact in photographs made as recently as April, 1942, and . . .”

  The article gave the names of some of the stars—they didn’t mean a thing to me—and chided the scientists on their absentmindedness. “Imagine,” it went on, “Losing something as big as a star. Although,” the writer summed up, “it doesn’t really matter. They have a few hundred billion left to play around with.”

  I thought it was sort of cute at the time, although in questionable taste. I don’t know a thing about science—I’m in the dress line—but I’ve always looked upon it with the greatest respect. The way I see it, you start laughing at scientists and they come up with something like the atom bomb. Better to treat them with a little respect.

  I can’t remember if I showed the article to my wife. If I did, she didn’t say anything in particular.

  Life went along as usual. I went to work in Manhattan and came home to Queens. In a few days there was another article. This one was written by a Phd., and it had dropped the kidding style.

  It said that stars appeared to be disappearing from our Milky Way galaxy at a tremendous rate. Observatories in both hemispheres had estimated that a few million of the farthest stars had vanished in the past five weeks.