Emil Petaja

“ Max stared down at the two small charred remainders of the Kiriki advance guard and shuddered.
On the road back to New York, Max said: "Do you think they'll try it again?"
"The Kiriki? Not for a while. Like you said, they dislike war. They like it the easy way."
"Propaganda. Invasion of minds. Well, two can play at that. We'll keep Orion going—only we'll print the real story. We'll make men detest and despise the Kiriki so that any feelers they send down will send them hopping to the furthest end of space. ”

“ It was just as Lisa, or Lisa's ghost in the dream, said. He was curious. He had to know. It was driving him crazy not to know. Once he thought that by straining at the dream and forcing it to go on, his fingers did actually contact the cold surface of the telephone. But he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure.
More and more the dream obsessed him. Like a succubus it drained him, and pummelled him, and lay heavily on him. He did other things; his existence must have included innumerable other things such as eating, brushing his teeth, bathing, working. Working, of course. Working at what? ”

“ The fans loved the idea of a pseudo-history of a whole constellation of systems. The Kiriki, with their breathtaking crusade of contentment, sweeping over system after system until finally it outdistanced Orion and tentacled out from their home system into deepest space.... It captured the imagination. Where would it end?
Eventually we hit Life magazine, with a big spread. The slicks went after Ric Planter, but Starr had him tied up with an iron-clad contract. After all, the conception was Starr's. ”

“ Clutching out with taloned fingers
Nameless, deathless rancor lingers;
Thinly veiled beyond my dreaming,
Inward seeps titanic screaming
Whilst I stop my inward ears. . .
Knowledge maddens he who hears! ”

“ Trust Ric to latch on to the Kiriki vulnerable point. The Kiriki, as Starr had outlined them, were highly communal. Like our ants, only very much more advanced. They depended on this intricate pattern of inter-communication, mind with mind, for their very existence, since each Kiriki was by birth fitted to perform only one basic function in their communal society. Their ingenious "Army of Patterned Contentment" was helpless, when reduced by the adaptable Green Ones to individuals. ”

“ Starr and he let me in. I went over the place with a fine-tooth comb. Max, there's simply nothing there to get excited about. He's quite neat for a bachelor. Everything very prosaic and natural, except for that big amateur radio of his."
"Amateur radio?"
"You know. Amateur sending and receiving. Mr. Starr is a ham."
"H-ham?" I swallowed hard. "Alice, you're right. I'm going off my rocker."
"Just overwork," she protested, soothingly. "You take your science fiction too seriously. What you need is a nice vacation, away from the office and everything that even smells like work." ”

“ Starr had grabbed it off my desk as he went through. "I told Planter the Kiriki were good guys, not bad guys."
"Good guys, bad guys!" Starr cried. "How naive can we be. Let us hope that our readership is on a different intelligence level, otherwise our great plan will fail miserably." ”

“ The room was quite dark, it was always dark. He couldn't see the bed, the soft wide bed with the plum satin headpiece that was studded with cushioned buttons, and the triangle of chiffon that was draped elegantly from the ceiling. ”

“ Starr hissed. "He turned the Kiriki into villains. When their benevolent plan to spread patterned contentment throughout the circle of outer planets was just taking hold he had the semi-civilized Green Ones rise up and destroy their power by smashing their means of telepathic communication." ”

“ They don't want to just drop in on us. They dislike physical warfare because it isn't orderly. Also they don't want to kill any of their numbers, or their potential slaves. Also a sudden alien invasion might drive humans completely off their rocker.
"So here's what they do. They send down a secret fifth columnist. His job is to spread propaganda over the planet, to prepare humans for their advent, make them amenable to this alien culture. Of course he's to build them up in human minds, make them think their cosmic crusade is beneficent and noble. ”

“ So sandpaper-voice was Wallace Starr. Maybe I was supposed to turn handsprings.
"You don't know me," the heckler went on, "but I am very familiar with you and your work. I have an important project in mind. A new monthly science fiction magazine to be called Orion. I need a good assistant editor. You were suggested."
"Orion," I said.
"Yes. My book will feature a completely new approach. We will buy only the best material, and each story will concern itself with the constellation Orion and its various systems. All material will be correlated to this end. How does this strike you?" ”

“ If only there was some way to outwit them. But he had thought of everything; apparently so had they. That window, for instance, was shuttered and bolted from outside. A sudden noise would bring them in here in no time. The back wall was up against a cliff. There was no outside door in this room.
He was supposed to be drunk, befuddled. But he hadn't drank any of the champagne. In that, at least, he had outwitted them. He was to die. No question about that. ”

“ Because he could not dictate their policies. Only in Orion could he manipulate the strings from behind. The Kiriki were his babies and they must follow his pattern.
The night before our anniversary issue went to press it happened.
I had left Alice on her doorstep, just off the Drive. It was almost midnight, a blazing hot July night. Everybody and his dog was out for a breather. The Drive was alive with young lovers, old lovers, and dog lovers.
It hit me. In my hurry to get away from the office I had neglected to check with Starr about a last minute cover change. Starr hadn't been in all day. ”

“ If it doesn't kill them it'll put them to sleep for hours. Basically, from Starr's dossiers on the Kiriki, they have all the vulnerable points of our grasshoppers. And fire will destroy them utterly. I'm afraid we can't take chances, so this cabin will have to go. ”

“ Now, the two of them were in the kitchen planning his death. "Science Fiction Editor Accidentally Killed in Mountain Retreat. Bride Stricken." Then the grief-stricken bride would carry on in his place. Orion was going great guns now. It really didn't need Max Field. And without him their propaganda machine could move forward all the faster—forward to the day when the Kiriki cosmic crusade moved down into this solar system. The Patterned Contentment boys would take over. Whose pattern? Kiriki, of course.... ”