Read Ebook: Date line by Loomis Noel M Napoli Vincent Illustrator

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Ebook has 102 lines and 5519 words, and 3 pages

The tall man looked doubtfully at the microphone, but Prem smiled and nodded encouragingly. The tall man stepped closer as if he was about to swallow the microphone. "Hello, mom," he said gravely. "It was a wet crossing, but we made it. I hereby declare America officially discovered."

Stieve scowled at Prem. "Did you have to teach them so much slang?"

Prem discreetly averted his eyes.

Well, it was soon over. Stieve unhooked the microphone.

"It was a darn good broadcast, at that," he told Orig.

"Thank you, sir," said Orig, squirming with happiness.

"Now let's take our stuff and get back home. Where's the tube?"

"At the other end of the beach, sir."

Stieve was almost run over by a bare-footed newsboy who ran through the crowd shouting, "Extry! Extry! Columbus discovers America! Read all about it."

"How much?" Stieve growled.

"Ten cents, mister."

"It's a gyp," Stieve said, as he paid.

"It's an extra, sir," Prem reminded him.

"And it will be quite a souvenir piece."

He started Prem into the cartridge. Just then, however, the big Indian cop came running across the sand, followed by a girl wearing a blue apron. She was pointing at Stieve.

"That's the man, papa," she said.

The big Indian took hold of Stieve's shoulder and spun him around. "Did you promise marryum my daughter?"

Stieve gasped. "I should say not."

The girl sobbed. "He said that I could play in his yard all I wanted."

"That offer of marriage in Guanahani," declared the big cop. "You stickum by offer, hey?"

Stieve almost swallowed his tongue, then leaped forward. Orig Prem had stuck his head out of the cartridge and was yelling at the Indian. Stieve halted, jerked Prem out of the cartridge and jumped in himself. He slammed the door tight and pulled the lever.

What on earth or in time-stream would Smullen say if this got back to 2230? He hoped Prem could get back all right, but if he couldn't, it would serve him right. It was all Prem's fault. It was a wonder Stieve hadn't been served with a breach of promise suit. Prem was undoubtedly the world's best organizer. The only thing was, he didn't know when to stop.

Well, anyway, Smullen would be tickled to death over the broadcast today. It had been a dandy. Snappy, modern. None of the long speeches that had been rampant in the 1930's.

He came to when Medlock lifted the cover.

"Hey, Smullen wants you right away!" said Medlock.

Stieve felt expansible. He took the fast walk to Smullen's suite. But his mouth dropped when Smullen glared at him.

"You prize dummy!" Smullen roared. "While you're off gallivanting around the Fifteenth Century, you overlooked the one date in history that would appeal to Pluto."

Stieve licked his lips. "What--what do you mean, sir?"

"Do you know when Pluto was discovered?"

Stieve swallowed. Whatever the answer was, it would be bad. "No, sir."

"March 13, 1930." Smullen snarled. "Three hundred years ago today. One more day and you'd have had it. But no, you had to start traipsing around in time--"

Stieve felt terrible. He hadn't wanted to let down Smullen.

"Can't I cover it tomorrow, sir?" he pleaded. Out of the corner of his eye Stieve was aware that Orig Prem had entered and stood just inside the door.

"No!" said Smullen. "That's zigzagging. Time Travel won't allow it. You've been going back exactly three hundred years, and tomorrow you'd have to go back three hundred years and a day. They won't stand for it."

Stieve felt miserable. Orig Prem spoke up. "I think we can still make it, sir," he said apologetically.

"What do you mean?" Smullen growled.

"The date, sir. I've just discovered this really isn't March thirteenth. Today is March twelfth. Tomorrow will be the thirteenth."

Frowning, Stieve looked suspiciously at Prem. "How do you know?"

"Well, you remember what I told you about leap-years?"

"Yes."

"Well, leap-years aren't the only means of adjusting the calendar. There is also an adjustment to correct what is known as the lunar error in the Metonic cycle. The calendar is to be adjusted by omitting a day at the end of seven periods of three hundred years each and then one at the end of four hundred years. It was first applied in 1800, and should have been again in 2100. But this is what happened, sirs!"

Orig Prem faced them, and his chromium-plated face was shining.

"During the Last War, when men were underground and the calendars were pretty much destroyed, there wasn't any central authority, and they forgot to omit the day in Twenty-One Hundred. Therefore today is really March twelfth."

Stieve grinned. He clapped Prem on his steel back. But Smullen was discouraging.

"Time Travel's rules still hold," he said. "No zigzagging."

"Ah, yes," said Prem, "but I have investigated that. Your contract with Time Travel calls for trips exactly three hundred years from now. They will begin to abide by it, won't they?"

Smullen began to smile. "I believe you're right. Okay." He whirled to the intercom. "Get me Calendar and get me Legal. Overtime for both departments tonight. We'll get this intertemporal date-line straightened out, and you, Stieve, get ready for a trip to Nineteen-Thirty tomorrow."

Only then Stieve realized that he didn't dare go to 1930. He went outside glumly. Orig Prem came behind him.

"It's really all right, sir. I didn't have time to tell you before, but Medlock fixed things up for you--for us--in Nineteen-Thirty. He promised to bring the mayor into Twenty-Two-Thirty to let the Mayor watch the sky-tractor putting floors on the Liberty Tower. The Mayor will probably get his Doctor's in Sidewalk Engineering for that, sir, and he was very pleased. He said he would forgive me for everything, sir."

Stieve stared at Prem a moment and then he heaved a big, thankful sigh.

"Prem," he said, with a rush of gratefulness, "you're the best organizer on earth. You're worth a dozen androids."

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