Come, enjoy a Carl Jacobi field day—backed by his vivid, irresistibleimagination and his keen sense of fun. Or was it so funny for MartinSutter? For, unlike him, you'll surely be cautious the next time youturn on your TV set—especially if you notice it was made in Tanganyika.
See what happens when two conchologists get caughtin a necromantic nightmare of their own.
On his fortieth birthdayMartin Sutter decided life was tooshort to continue in the rut thathad been his existence for morethan twenty years. He withdrewhis savings from the ExplosionCity Third Federal Bank, stoppedin a display room and informed asomewhat surprised clerk he wastaking the electric runabout withthe blue bonnet. The ground-car,complete with extras, retailed fora tidy three thousand credits.
To accustom himself to thecar's controls Sutter chose Highway56 for a driving lesson. Hetooled the electric runabout upinto the third level, purred outacross state at an effortless twohundred, then descended via acloverleaf to ground tier andentered a maze of subsidiary roadsthat led through the summercountryside.
In this manner he drove themajor part of the afternoon.Travel was light, away from theelevated lanes and he enjoyedhimself.
At four o'clock he began tolook for a convenient place to turnaround. It was then that he sightedthe roadside stand ahead. Aboveit a freshly painted sign read: TVSETS. LATEST MODELS. SPECIALWHOLESALE PRICES!
Sutter smiled. Whoever heardof selling television sets on acountry highway? It was like—why,it was like selling eggs inthe lobby of the Hotel International!Then it occurred to himthat his own TV set had not beenin good working order for morethan a year. The olfactory controlhad jammed last week while hewas watching a Sumatran tribalceremony, inland from Soerabaja,and he had been unable to smellthe backdrop frangipani blossoms.It was time he bought anew set....
Sutter touched a stud and theelectric runabout coasted to ahalt. As he climbed out of thecar and walked across the highwaytoward the stand, he thoughtfor a moment there was somethingwrong with his contact lenses orperhaps his eyes.
The stand and the sign aboveit appeared to waver uncertainly,to become disjointed as thoughviewed through uneven glass. Butthe effect passed and Sutter approachedthe stand and nodded tothe individual tilted back in achair beside it.
He was a rawboned man witha thatch of thick black hair andsmall watery eyes. He was dressed,oddly enough, in a pair of tight-fittingtrousers of white lawn, aflaming red tunic and a yellowcummerbund.
"Yes, sir," he said. "Can I showyou something in a new TV?"
"Where are they?" asked Sutter,surveying the empty stand.
"Out back," replied the man."Just a minute and I'll show you."
He rose lazily from his chairand led the way around to therear of the stand. Sutter couldhave sworn he had seen an appleorchard behind the structure ashe rode up, but he must have beenmistaken for now he saw a low-roofed,aluminum-walled buildingthere, huge doors open on oneside. It looked, he thought, somewhatlike a hangar....
Two hours later Sutter arrivedback at his home in town. Heparked the car, went around tothe rear compartment, lifted outa large packing case and carriedit to his sitting room. There, withthe aid of hammer and crowbar,he stripped away the protectiveboards and then trundled thecabinet to an unoccupied corner.
It was certainly a uniq