Westervelt

“ But Westervelt did not perceive this, so engrossed was he in the new manuscript. Reading was prodigious labor for him—required all his attention.
He was at the hotel early the next morning, impatient to see his star. As he waited he figured on a little pad. His face was flushed as if with drink. His eyes swam with tears of joy, and when Helen appeared he took her hand in both his fat pads, crying out:
"My dear lady, we have found you a new play. It is to be a big production. It will cost a barrel of money to put it on, but it is a winner. Tell the writer to come on and talk terms." ”

“ Once in a ringed moon!"
"Who is to say which are the aliens?" said Westervelt. "There are days when I think I could feel more understanding to something with twelve tentacles and a tank of chlorine than to a lot of the mentalities that get loose right in this office. There's a crash program on for the evening, by the way, and Smitty wants the staff to hang on a while."
A look of dismay flashed over Pauline's youthful features.
"I know; you have a class tonight," Westervelt deduced. "Chuck it all. Stay in the file room with Mr. Parrish and you'll learn twice as much." ”

“ Westervelt volunteered to go down one wing while Parrish took the other. As they left, cautioned to take their time and act natural, Smith was telling the girls to open the doors to the adjacent offices again and keep their ears tuned, in case Lydman should come looking for him or Parrish.
Westervelt turned right past the stairs, and went to the door of the library.
It will be perfectly natural, he told himself. We made out on two cases. I just want to tell him about it, in case he hasn't heard. Why the hell don't they get that cable fixed? They want their bills paid on time, don't they? ”

“ Smith wants you to take it right in. He expected you earlier."
"My flight from London was late; I did the best I could after we landed," said Westervelt. "It took me the whole day to fetch this gadget. At least let me get my coat off!"
He moved to his right, to a modest desk in an alcove formed by the end of the office and the high partition that enclosed the switchboard.
"How do you find yourself inside that?" asked the other secretary, a golden haired girl with a lazy smile. "Talk about women's clothes! The men are wearing topcoats like tents this year." ”

“ Parrish fell silent as they reached the entrance to the main office. Beryl had gratefully stopped to speak to the first person in sight, which happened to be Pauline. As Parrish and Westervelt arrived, she was offering to take over the switchboard for twenty minutes or so.
"Oh, I didn't mean you had to drop everything," Pauline was protesting. "I just meant ... when you get the chance...."
She eyed Lydman curiously, then looked to the late arrivals. The silly thought that Joe Rosenkrantz must feel awfully lonely crossed Westervelt's mind, and he had to fight down a giggle. ”

“ Westervelt heaved a sigh. He would not have to be alert to duck an aroused Lydman charging down the corridor.
"Then, Mr. Smith," he suggested, "let's walk down that way in case someone comes out and sees us, and I'll tell you all about it."
"They shouldn't be out for a while," Smith commented, examining the youth doubtfully. ”

“ Westervelt told himself. "You don't have to be a prizefighter to get punchy, I guess."
He examined himself critically in the mirror over the sink, thinking that he could do with a neater appearance. A coin in the slot of a dispenser on the wall bought him a disposable paper comb with which he smoothed down his dark hair.
I need a haircut almost as bad as Castor P. he thought. I wonder if that really stands for Pollux? What a thing for parents to do! On the other hand, from people that came up with one like him, you'd expect almost anything! ”

“ Watch the set—I'll take a look."
"Aw, now, wait a minute, Joe!"
Westervelt's consternation was diverted by the call that came through at that moment. A perspiring face with ruffled gray hair—which Westervelt could remember having seen occasionally about the lobby downstairs, looking extremely sleek and well-groomed—appeared on the phone screen.
"If you're above the seventy-fifth, walk down that far. If you're lower, walk down as far as you can," said the man hoarsely. "If you can stay put, that's the best thing." ”

“ I'll let you know if it has anything to do with Trident."
"Department 99, Terra," the operator was saying when Westervelt turned from the phone, as if the mere call signal had not satisfied the party at the other end.
There seemed to be a lot of action on the screen. Men were running in various directions in what appeared to be a large hall with an impressive stairway.
"Yoleen!" Rosenkrantz flung over his shoulder. "Tell Smitty!"
"Mr. Smith!" said Westervelt, turning back to the phone screen. "Joe says it's Yoleen coming in. Maybe you'd like to see it yourself. Something looks wrong." ”

“ Even Westervelt was awed by the calm look Helen turned on the group. "You are very sure of yourself, Mr. Westervelt, but to my mind this night only proves that this audience came to hear me without intelligent design." She faced the silent group with white and weary face. "Certainly Mr. Douglass's play is not for such an audience as that which has been gathering to see me as The Baroness, but that does not mean that I have no other audience. There is a public for me in this higher work. If there isn't, I will retire." ”

“ Westervelt had propped himself with folded arms against the opposite wall, facing the door to the stairs.
Beryl hovered behind Parrish, who faced Smith impatiently between darting glares at Westervelt.
"All right, I guess I have to tell you, Pete," said Smith in a low tone. "You might say we are temporarily inconvenienced."
"By him?" asked Parrish, jerking a thumb in Westervelt's direction. "That I could understand. The kid's beginning to think he's a comedian. He started out just now playing Charley's Aunt." ”

“ The last door to the left, corresponding to the location of the communications room, led to Lydman's office.
Westervelt knocked, waited for the sound of a voice inside, and walked in. For a moment, he saw no one, then pivoted to his right as he remembered that Lydman kept his desk on the inner wall, around the short corner behind the door. Everyone else who had a corner office sat out by the windows.
He found himself facing a heavy man whose bleached crewcut and tanned features bespoke much time spent outdoors. ”

“ They had the edge of it showing as a deep crimson ball beside another building in the vicinity.
"What are you two doping out?" asked the blonde. "Some disappearing trick?"
Simonetta laughed as Westervelt shoved the dial setting to afternoon normal.
"It's an idea," he said, scowling at Beryl.
"For underwater?" she demanded mockingly.
"Ever hear of a squid?" retorted Westervelt. "They hide themselves underwater. Maybe a cloud of dye would be as good as a filter."
"Willie, that is an idea!" said Simonetta. "You ought to tell Mr. Smith." ”

“ That was typical of Lydman, Westervelt realized. The man did not care what he ate. Smith would have been specific though unimaginative. Parrish would have sent instructions about the seasoning. The girls would choose something sickening by Westervelt's standards. He shoved back his chair and stood up.
"I'd better see what they're doing up front," he said. "I think Mr. Smith was talking about it being quicker to raid our own food locker. ”

“ He told them about the open window. Who would keep a window open with the building air-conditioning operating as perfectly as it did?
Smith fell to running his hands through his hair again.
"Now, let's think!" he muttered. "There must be some logical explanation."
Logical explanations, Westervelt thought, are always the reasons other people think of, not me.
He found a space to sit on the edge of the empty desk. Simonetta leaned beside him, and Beryl wandered over to the window of the switchboard cubicle to listen as Pauline checked Rosenkrantz. ”

“ Westervelt felt a chill as the handsome eyes looked through him in turn, but accepted the comforting realization that the stare was about as usual.
Beryl was the picture of a girl afraid to breathe out loud, but the others relaxed cautiously. Smith even planted one hip on the corner of Simonetta's desk and tried to look casual.
"You seem to be doing pretty well," he said. "We were thinking of looking in the lab for something to cut the latch with, but it might have been waste motion. They should be getting the power on any minute now."
"I think...." Lydman began. ”

“ They went in to tell Colborn, who took it well. He pointed out to Westervelt that he would in no case have been concerned with the overtime operation. When he was relieved, he was relieved—period.
"I forget this crazy place the minute the elevator door closes behind me," he said grinning, having handed over to Rosenkrantz his log and a few unofficial comments about traffic he had heard during recent hours. "There are some who wait till they hit the street, but I believe in a clean cut. I walk in, push 'Main Floor,' and everything else goes blank." ”

“ Westehvelt was still sitting with Joe Rosenkrantz in the communications room when Colborn's call came through. He looked over Joe's shoulder as the operator swiveled to face his telephone viewer.
"How come you remembered the number?" he greeted Colborn. "Did the elevator doors close on you?"
"Very-funny-ha-ha!" retorted Colborn. "Look, Joe—have you got power?"
Westervelt peered closer, thinking that the redhead looked unusually concerned. Rosenkrantz seemed not to have noticed.
"Power?" he said. "Have I got power! I can pull in stations you never heard of, just on willpower! ”

“ An entertaining dip into Hawaiian mythology is reserved for readers of “Legends of Gods and Ghosts,” whose author is W. D. Westervelt. The tales are collected from native tongues and put into English with no apparent sacrifice of their interest and charm. The Hawaiians have developed some beautiful nature-myths, which are well worth preservation as companion pieces with the better known fairy stories that come to us from Europe and Asia. ”

“ Westervelt turned his head, and offered the secretary of the Cambridge Company a glance of mingled pain and solicitude. Then, beginning slowly, but throwing in the high speed as soon as he was under good headway, he hitched his chair across to Dillingham's desk.
"You claim to be promoters," he remarked blandly. "Every time you promote anything you take a chance, don't you? Well, unless you take all your capital and bet it on the ponies, can you get any quicker action than this? Ten weeks, and it's all over. You lose five, or you make ten. ”

“ They watched Johnson look away, although the man did not seem to be going through any marked effort of concentration. Hardly thirty seconds of this had elapsed when they saw him scowl.
"This fish off my beach can't get it through his massive intellect that he can't think directly to another fish at your position. He thinks you must be pretty queer not to have someone to do your thinking for you."
Smith turned a little red. Westervelt admired Joe Rosenkrantz's pokerface. Johnson appeared to be insisting. ”

“ There seemed to be some real crazy spots in the records, but nobody ever got in jail at the bottom of an ocean."
"You'd think it would have happened sometime," said Simonetta thoughtfully.
"I suppose," suggested Westervelt, "that on any planet where Terrans were taken underwater, they didn't live long enough to be one of our cases. On a place like Trident, they usually wouldn't have any trouble. They'd stay on land, and any local life would stay in the sea. It took a nut like Harris to go poking around where he wasn't wanted."
"That's what Mr. Parrish hinted," said Beryl. ”

“ He shook the thought out of his head and hurried to catch up to Parrish and the two girls.
They trouped into the main office and took turns in telling Smith the story. He flatly refused to believe it for about five minutes. Ultimately convinced, he told Pauline to check Rosenkrantz by phone every ten minutes.
"If we're wrong," he said, "it's unfair to have him sitting down there all alone. Bob might somehow have outsmarted us, but if he did it to this extent, it means he isn't safe on the loose!"
Westervelt noticed that Simonetta was looking pale. He wondered about his own features. ”

“ He doesn't seem to think any further than that in such situations. If someone is being held against his will, that's enough for Bob. Did you know Smitty had to post a bond for him?"
"A bond!" repeated Westervelt. "What for?"
"They caught him a couple of times, trying out his new gadgets around the city jail. I'll tell you about it sometime." ”

“ Tuna shook himself angrily. "Do you think I am nothing? This day is your last."
Roko replied: "Perhaps so. If the sky falls, I shall die."
Tuna leaped upon Roko and bit him. Then came the mighty battle of the coral caves. Roko broke Tuna into several pieces—and the red blood poured [Pg 99] in boiling bubbles upward through the clear ocean waters, and the boatmen cried: "The blood is red—the blood is red—Tuna is dead by the hand of Roko."
Roko lived for a time in Fiji, where his descendants still find their home. The people use this chant to aid them in difficulties:
"My load is a red one. ”

“ The people said: "We have nothing but a very old canoe out there by the water." He went to it and found it in a very bad condition. He put it in the water, and decided that he could use it. Then he asked two men to go with him and paddle, but they refused because of fear, and explained this fear by telling the story of the water demon, who continually sought the destruction of this [Pg 98] canoe, and also their own death. Roko encouraged them to take him to wage battle with Tuna, telling them he would destroy the monster. They paddled until they were directly over Tuna's cave. ”