Clifford D. Simak - Project Mastodon.pdf - Clifford D. Simak - widez2

Project Mastodon

Simak, Clifford Donald

Published: 1955

Type(s): Short Fiction, Science Fiction

Source: http://gutenberg.net

About Simak:

Clifford Donald Simak (August 3, 1904 - April 25, 1988) was a leading

American science fiction writer. He won three Hugo awards and one Ne-

bula award, as well as being named the third Grand Master by the

SFWA in 1977.

Clifford Donald Simak was born in Millville, Wisconsin, son of John

Lewis and Margaret (Wiseman) Simak. He married Agnes Kuchenberg

on April 13, 1929 and they had two children, Scott and Shelley. Simak at-

tended the University of Wisconsin-Madison and later worked at various

newspapers in the Midwest. He began a lifelong association with the

Minneapolis Star and Tribune (Minneapolis, Minnesota) in 1939, which

continued until his retirement in 1976. He became Minneapolis Star 's

news editor in 1949 and coordinator of Minneapolis Tribune's Science

Reading Series in 1961. He died in Minneapolis.

Source: Wikipedia

Also available on Feedbooks for Simak:

• Empire (1951)

• The Street That Wasn't There (1941)

• Hellhound of the Cosmos (1932)

check the copyright status in your country.

Note: This book is brought to you by Feedbooks.

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Strictly for personal use, do not use this file for commercial purposes.

The chief of protocol said, "Mr. Hudson of—ah—Mastodonia."

The secretary of state held out his hand. "I'm glad to see you, Mr. Hud-

son. I understand you've been here several times."

"That's right," said Hudson. "I had a hard time making your people be-

lieve I was in earnest."

"And are you, Mr. Hudson?"

"Believe me, sir, I would not try to fool you."

"And this Mastodonia," said the secretary, reaching down to tap the

document upon the desk. "You will pardon me, but I've never heard of

it."

"It's a new nation," Hudson explained, "but quite legitimate. We have a

constitution, a democratic form of government, duly elected officials,

and a code of laws. We are a free, peace-loving people and we are pos-

sessed of a vast amount of natural resources and—"

"Please tell me, sir," interrupted the secretary, "just where are you

located?"

"Technically, you are our nearest neighbors."

"But that is ridiculous!" exploded Protocol.

"Not at all," insisted Hudson. "If you will give me a moment, Mr. Sec-

retary, I have considerable evidence."

He brushed the fingers of Protocol off his sleeve and stepped forward

to the desk, laying down the portfolio he carried.

"Go ahead, Mr. Hudson," said the secretary. "Why don't we all sit

down and be comfortable while we talk this over?"

"You have my credentials, I see. Now here is a propos—"

"I have a document signed by a certain Wesley Adams."

"He's our first president," said Hudson. "Our George Washington, you

might say."

"What is the purpose of this visit, Mr. Hudson?"

"We'd like to establish diplomatic relations. We think it would be to

our mutual benefit. After all, we are a sister republic in perfect sympathy

with your policies and aims. We'd like to negotiate trade agreements and

we'd be grateful for some Point Four aid."

The secretary smiled. "Naturally. Who doesn't?"

"We're prepared to offer something in return," Hudson told him stiffly.

"For one thing, we could offer sanctuary."

"Sanctuary!"

"I understand," said Hudson, "that in the present state of international

tensions, a foolproof sanctuary is not something to be sneezed at."

The secretary turned stone cold. "I'm an extremely busy man."

Protocol took Hudson firmly by the arm. "Out you go."

General Leslie Bowers put in a call to State and got the secretary.

"I don't like to bother you, Herb," he said, "but there's something I

want to check. Maybe you can help me."

"Glad to help you if I can."

"There's a fellow hanging around out here at the Pentagon, trying to

get in to see me. Said I was the only one he'd talk to, but you know how

it is."

"I certainly do."

"Name of Huston or Hudson or something like that."

"He was here just an hour or so ago," said the secretary. "Crackpot sort

of fellow."

"He's gone now?"

"Yes. I don't think he'll be back."

"Did he say where you could reach him?"

"No, I don't believe he did."

"How did he strike you? I mean what kind of impression did you get

of him?"

"I told you. A crackpot."

"I suppose he is. He said something to one of the colonels that got me

worrying. Can't pass up anything, you know—not in the Dirty Tricks

Department. Even if it's crackpot, these days you got to have a look at it."

"He offered sanctuary," said the secretary indignantly. "Can you ima-

gine that!"

"He's been making the rounds, I guess," the general said. "He was over

at AEC. Told them some sort of tale about knowing where there were

vast uranium deposits. It was the AEC that told me he was heading your

way."

"We get them all the time. Usually we can ease them out. This Hudson

was just a little better than the most of them. He got in to see me."

"He told the colonel something about having a plan that would enable

us to establish secret bases anywhere we wished, even in the territory of

potential enemies. I know it sounds crazy… ."

"Forget it, Les."

"You're probably right," said the general, "but this idea sends me. Can

you imagine the look on their Iron Curtain faces?"

The scared little government clerk, darting conspiratorial glances all

about him, brought the portfolio to the FBI.

"I found it in a bar down the street," he told the man who took him in

tow. "Been going there for years. And I found this portfolio laying in the

booth. I saw the man who must have left it there and I tried to find him

later, but I couldn't."

"How do you know he left it there?"

"I just figured he did. He left the booth just as I came in and it was sort

of dark in there and it took a minute to see this thing laying there. You

see, I always take the same booth every day and Joe sees me come in and

he brings me the usual and—"

"You saw this man leave the booth you usually sit in?"

"That's right."

"Then you saw the portfolio."

"Yes, sir."

"You tried to find the man, thinking it must have been his."

"That's exactly what I did."

"But by the time you went to look for him, he had disappeared."

"That's the way it was."

"Now tell me—why did you bring it here? Why didn't you turn it in to

the management so the man could come back and claim it?"

"Well, sir, it was like this. I had a drink or two and I was wondering all

the time what was in that portfolio. So finally I took a peek and—"

"And what you saw decided you to bring it here to us."

"That's right. I saw—"

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