The Last Letter (2 page)

 

Krumbine nodded, but he was a trifle shocked and inclined to revise his estimate of Potshelter's social status. Krumbine conducted his own social correspondence solely by telepathy. He shared with three other SBI officials a private telepath — a charming albino girl named Agnes.

 

"Yes, and if s a very handsome walky-talky," he assured Potshelter a little falsely. "Suits you. I like the upswept antenna." He drummed on the desk and swallowed another blue tranquilizer. "Dammit, what's happened to those machines? They ought to have the two spies here by now. Did you notice that the second — the intended recipient of the letter, I mean — seems to be female? Another good Terran name, too, Jane Dough. Hive in Upper Manhattan." He began to tap the envelope sharply against the desk. "Dammit, where
are
they?"

 

"Excuse me," Potshelter said hesitantly, "but I'm wondering why you haven't read the message inside the envelope."

 

Krumbine looked at him
blankly. "Great Scott, I as
sumed that at least it was in some secret code, of course. Normally I'd have asked you to have Pink Wastebasket try her skill on it, but ..." His eyes widened and his voice sank. "You don't mean to tell me that it's--"

 

Potshelter nodded grimly. "Hand-written, too. Yes."

 

Krumbine winced. "I keep trying to forget that aspect of the case." He dug out the message with shaking fingers, fumbled it open and read:

 

Dear Jane,

 

It must surprise you that I know your name, for our hives are widely
separated. Do you recall day before
ye
sterday when your guided tour of
Grand Central Spaceport got stalled
because the guide blew a fuse? I
was the young man with hair in the
tour behind yours. You were a little
frightened and a group
mistress was
reassuring you. The machine spoke
your name.

 

Since then I have been unable to
forget you. When I go to sleep, I
dream of your face looking up sadly
at the mistress's kindly photocells.
I don't know how to get in touch
with you, but my grandfather has
told me stories his grandfather told
him that his grandfather told him
about young men writing what he
calls love-letters to young ladies. So
I am writing you a love-letter.

 

I work in a first-class advertising
house and I will slip this love-letter
into an outgoing ten-thousand-pack
and hope.

 

Do not be frightened of me, Jane.
I am no caveman except for my
hair. I am not insane. I am emotionally disturbed, but in a way that no
machine has ever described to me.
I want only your happiness.

Sincerely,

Richard Rowe

 

Krumbine slumped back in his chair, which braced itself manfully against him, and looked long and thoughtfully at Potshelter. "Well, if that's a code, if s certainly a fiendishly subtle one. You'd think he was talking to his Girl Next Door."

 

Potshelter nodded wonderingly. "I only read as far as where they were planning to blow up Grand Central Spaceport and all the guides in it."

 

"Judas Priest, I think I have it!" Krumbine shot up. "It's a pilot advertisement — Boy Next Door or — that kind of thing — printed to look like hand-writing, which would make all the difference. And the pilot copy got mailed by accident — which would mean there is no real Richard Rowe."

 

At that instant, the door dilated and two blue detective engines hustled a struggling young man into the office. He was slim, rather handsome, had a bushy head of hair that had somehow survived evolution and radioactive fallout, and across the chest and back of his paper singlet was neatly stamped: "Richard Rowe."

 

When he saw the two men, he stopped struggling and straightened up. "Excuse me, gentlemen," he said, "but these police machines must have made a mistake. I've committed no crime."

 

Then his gaze fell on the hand addressed envelope on Krumbine's desk and he turned pale.

 

Krumbine laughed harshly. "No crime! No, not at all. Merely using the mails to communicate. Ha!"

 

The young man shrank back. "I'm sorry, sir."

 

"Sorry, he says! Do you realize that your insane prank has resulted in the destruction of perhaps a half-billion pieces of first-class advertising? — in the strangulation of a postal station and the paralysis of Lower Manhattan? — in the mobilization of SBI reserves, the de-mothballing of two divisions of G. I. machines and the redeployment of the Solar Battle Fleet? Good Lord, boy, why did you do it?"

 

Richard Rowe continued to shrink but he squared his shoulders. "I'm sorry, sir, but I just had to. I just had to get in touch with Jane Dough."

 

"A girl from another hive? A girl you'd merely gazed at because a guide happened to blow a fuse?" Krumbine stood up, shaking an angry finger. "Great Scott, boy, where was Your Girl Next Door?"

 

Richard Rowe stared bravely at the finger, which made him look a trifle cross-eyed. "She died, sir, both of them."

 

"But there should be at least six."

 

"I know, sir, but of the other four, two have been shipped to the Adirondacks on vacation and two recently got married and haven't been replaced."

 

Potshelter, a faraway look in his eyes, said softly, "I think I'm beginning to understand—"

 

But Krumbine thundered on at Richard Rowe with, "Good Lord, I can see you've had your troubles, boy. It isn't often we have these shortages of Girls Next Door, so that temporarily a boy can't marry the Girl Next Door, as he always should. But, Judas Priest, why didn't you take your troubles to your psychiatrist, your groupmaster, your socializer, your Queen Mother?"

 

"My psychiatrist is being overhauled, sir, and his replacement short-circuits every time he hears the word 'trouble.' My groupmaster and socializer are on vacation duty in the Adirondacks. My Queen Mother is busy replacing Girls Next Door."

 

"Yes, it all fits," Potshelter proclaimed excitedly. "Don't you see, Krumbine? Except for a set of mischances that would only occur once in a billion billion times, the letter would never have been conceived or sent."

 

"You may have something there," Krumbine concurred. "But in any case, boy, why did you — er — written this letter to this particular girl? What is there about Jane Dough that made you do it?"

 

"Well, you see, sir, she's—"

 

Just then, the door re-dilated and a blue matron machine conducted a young woman into the office. She was slim and she had a head of hair that would have graced a museum beauty, while across the back and — well, "chest" is an inadequate word — of her paper chemise, "Jane Dough" was silk-screened in the palest pink.

 

Krumbine did not repeat his last question. He had to admit to himself that it had been answered fully. Potshelter whistled respectfully. The blue detective engines gave hard-boiled grunts. Even the blue matron machine seemed awed by the girl's beauty.

 

But she had eyes only for Richard Rowe. "My Grand Central man," she breathed in amazement. "The man I've dreamed of ever since. My man with hair." She noticed the way he was looking at her and she breathed harder. "Oh, darling, what have you done?"

 

"I tried to send you a letter."

 

"A letter? For me? Oh, darling!"

 

Krumbine cleared his throat "Potshelter, I'm going to wind this up fast. Miss Dough, could you transfer to this young man's hive?"

 

"Oh, yes, sir! Mine has an over- plus of Girls Next Door."

 

"Good. Mr. Rowe, there's a sky- pilot two levels up — look for the usual white collar just below the photocells. Marry this girl and take her home to your hive. If your Queen Mother objects refer her to — er — Potshelter here."

 

He cut short the young people's thanks. "Just one thing," he said, wagging a finger at Rowe. "Don't written any more letters."

 

"Why ever would I?" Richard answered. "Already my action is beginning to seem like a mad dream."

 

"Not to me, dear," Jane corrected him. "Oh, sir, could I have the letter he sent me? Not to do anything with. Not to show anyone. Just to keep."

 

"Well, I don't know-" Krumbine began.

 

"Oh, please, sir!"

 

"Well, I don't know why not, I was going to say. Here you are, miss. Just see that this husband of yours never writes another."

 

He turned back as the contracting door shut the young couple from view.

 

"You were right, Potshelter," he said briskly. "It was one of those combinations of mischances that come up only once in a billion billion times. But we're going to have to issue recommendations for new procedures and safeguards that will reduce the possibilities to one in a trillion trillion. It will undoubtedly up the Terran income tax a healthy percentage, but we can't have something like this happening again. Every boy must marry the Girl Next Door! And the first-class mails must not be interfered with! The advertising must go through!"

 

"I'd almost like to see it happen again," Potshelter murmured dreamily, "if there were another Jane Dough in it."

 

Krumbine, Richard and Jane had halted to allow a small cortege of machines to pass. First came a squad of police machines with Black Sorter in their midst, unmuzzled and docile enough, though still gnashing his teeth softly. Then — stretched out horizontally and borne on the shoulders of Gray Psychiatrist, Black Coroner, White Nursemaid Seven and Greasy Joe — there passed the slim form of Pink Wastebasket, snow-white in death. The machines were keening softly, mournfully.

 

Round about the black pillars, little mecho-mops were scurrying like mice, cleaning up the last of the first-class-mail bits of confetti.

 

Richard winced at this evidence of his aberration, but Jane squeezed his hand comfortingly, which produced in him a truly amazing sensation that changed his whole appearance.

 

"I know how you feel, darling," she told him. "But don't worry about it. Just think, dear, I'll al- ways be able to tell your friends' wives something no other woman in the world can boast of: that my husband once wrote me a letter!"

 

The End

 

 

Fritz Reuter Leiber Jr. (1910-1992) was an American author of Science Fiction, Horror and Fantasy. He also wrote under the pseudonyms of Fritz Leiber, Jr. and Maurice Breçon. He was also an expert Chess player and a champion fencer.

 

Other works by Fritz Leiber

Try and Change the Past

A Deskful of Girls

The Number of the Beast

Damnation Morning

The Haunted Future

The Mind Spider

The Oldest Soldier

No Great Magic

Knight to Move

Black Corridor

The Change War

The Big Time

Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser

Two Sought Adventure

The Bleak Shore

The Howling Tower

The Sunken Land (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

Thieves' House

Adept's Gambit (Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

Claws from the Night

The Seven Black Priests

Two Sought Adventure

Induction

Lean Times in Lankhmar (by Maurice Breçon)

When the Sea-King's Away

Scylla's Daughter

The Unholy Grail

The Cloud of Hate

Bazaar of the Bizarre

The Lords of Quarmall (with Harry Fischer)

The Lords of Quarmall (with Harry Fischer)

Stardock

Their Mistress, the Sea

The Wrong Branch

In the Witch's Tent

The Two Best Thieves in Lankhmar

The Circle Curse

The Snow Women

The Price of Pain-Ease

The Sadness of the Executioner

Trapped in the Shadowland

The Bait

Beauty and the Beasts

Under the Thumbs of the Gods

Trapped in the Sea of Stars

The Frost Monstreme

Rime Isle

Sea Magic

Bazaar of the Bizarre

The Mer She

The Curse of the Smalls and the Stars

Slack Lankhmar Afternoon Featuring Hisvet

The Mouser Goes Below

Tarzan

Tarzan and the Valley of Gold

Destiny Times Three

Gather, Darkness!

Conjure Wife

The Green Millennium

You're All Alone

The Silver Eggheads

The Wanderer

A Specter is Haunting Texas

Our Lady of Darkness

Night's Black Agents

Shadows With Eyes

Ships to the Stars

A Pail of Air

The Night of the Wolf

The Secret Songs

Night Monsters

You're All Alone

Heroes and Horrors

Le Grand Jeu du Temps

Ship of Shadows

Les Racines du Passé

Smoke Ghost & Other Apparitions

Day Dark, Night Bright

Horrible Imaginings

The Pale Brown Thing

Chapterbooks

Sonnets to Jonquil and All

The Mystery of the Japanese Clock

Quicks Around the Zodiac: A Farce

In the Beginning

The Dealings of Daniel Kesserich

Gonna Roll the Bones (with Sarah L. Thomson)

Adventures of a Balloon

Further Adventures of a Balloon

Riches and Power

Children of Jerusalem

The Road to Jordan

After the Darkness

The Automatic Pistol (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

They Never Come Back (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

Smoke Ghost (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

The Power of the Puppets

The Phantom Slayer

The Hill and the Hole (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

Spider Mansion

The Hound (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

The Mutant's Brother

To Make a Roman Holiday

Taboo

Sanity

Thought

Business of Killing (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

The Dreams of Albert Moreland (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

Wanted - An Enemy

Mr. Bauer and the Atoms (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

Alice and the Allergy

The Man Who Never Grew Young (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

Diary in the Snow (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

The Girl with the Hungry Eyes

In the X-Ray (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

Let Freedom Ring

The Black Ewe

Martians, Keep Out! (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

The Lion and the Lamb

The Ship Sails at Midnight

The Enchanted Forest

Later Than You Think

Coming Attraction

The Dead Man (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

Cry Witch!

Nice Girl with Five Husbands

Appointment in Tomorrow

A Pail of Air

When the Last Gods Die

Dr. Kometevsky's Day

The Moon Is Green

The Foxholes of Mars

Yesterday House

I'm Looking for "Jeff"

The Big Holiday

The Night He Cried

A Bad Day for Sales

The Mechanical Bride

The Silence Game

Last

Time Fighter

Friends and Enemies

Time in the Round

Femmequin 973

The Big Trek

What's He Doing in There?

Bread Overhead

The Last Letter

Bullet With His Name

Little Old Miss Macbeth (by Fritz Leiber, Jr.)

The Silver Eggheads

M.S. Found in a Maelstrom

Psychosis from Space

The House of Mrs. Delgato

The Improper Authorities

The Reward

Our Saucer Vacation

The Night of the Long Knives

Mariana

Schizo Jimmie

Rats of LImbo

Deadly Moon

When Set Fled

While Set Fled

All the Weed in the World

Scream Wolf

The Beat Cluster

Hatchery of Dreams

A Visitor from Back East

The Thirteenth Step

The Big Engine

A Bit of the Dark World

The Man Who Made Friends with Electricity

The 64-Square Madhouse

The Secret Songs

The Snowbank Orbit

The Creature from Cleveland Depths

Myths My Great-Granddaughter Taught Me

The Spider

Dr. Adams' Garden of Evil

Game for Motel Room

X Marks the Pedwalk

The Casket-Demon

Kindergarten

Success

Crimes Against Passion

A Hitch in Space

The Bazaar of the Bizarre

237 Talking Statues, Etc.

The Black Gondolier

Lie Still, Snow White

When the Change-Winds Blow

Be of Good Cheer

Midnight in the Mirror World

Mirror

Four Ghosts in Hamlet

Moon Duel

Cyclops

The Good New Days

To Arkham and the Stars

Sunk Without Trace

The Crystal Prison

Gonna Roll the Bones (by Sarah L. Thomson and Fritz Leiber)

The Winter Flies

Answering Service

The Turned-off Heads

When Brahma Wakes

Crazy Annaoj

The Square Root of Brain

One Station of the Way

Richmond, Late September, 1849

Endfray of the Ofay

Ship of Shadows

When They Openly Walk

America the Beautiful

Gold, Black, and Silver

The Lotus Eaters

Another Cask of Wine

Day Dark, Night Bright

The Bump

Cat Three

Waif

Do You Know Dave Wenzel?

Cat's Cradle

Midnight by the Morphy Watch

Mysterious Doings in the Metropolitan Museum

Catch That Zeppelin!

The Glove

Night Passage

Belsen Express

Dark Wings

The Death of Princes

The Eeriest Ruined Dawn World

The Terror from the Depths

The Princess in the Tower 250,000 Miles High

A Rite of Spring

Black Glass

The Man Who Was Married to Space and Time

The Button Molder

The Repair People

The Great San Francisco Glacier

The Moon Porthole

Horrible Imaginings

Quicks Around the Zodiac: A Farce

Black Has Its Charms

The Ghost Light

The Mouser Goes Below: An Excerpt

Replacement for Wilmer: A Ghost Story

Thrice the Brinded Cat

The Dealings of Daniel Kesserich

The Enormous Bedroom