The aliens offered Earth one chance for
survival: beat them in an intellectual duel. So
Joe Waters rose to the task, grim—and drunk!...
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy
September 1953
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
The Security Council was in emergency session. The four delegates wouldhave had easier consciences had more nations been represented, but itwas hard to travel now. Only Russia, England and France were able tosend their men to New York.
Sergei Moskov, USSR, presided unofficially. He wore a harried look, andaddressed them wearily.
"To think, gentlemen, that it has taken circumstances like these tobring us into accord!"
The others said nothing. Overhead, above New York's stone and glass UNbuilding that had been conceived in hope and wrought with faith, theycould hear the whine of the patrolling ships. The delegates stared atthe table in front of them.
"Your country, Mr. Conrad," Moskov said to the Americanrepresentative, "is the mother of our last hope." He looked around thetable for concurrence. Sir Manly straightened a bit, and M. Tourneau'smustache twitched, but they all nodded. What use national pride now?There was not much time, anyway. Tonight....
"He will be here?" Moskov asked.
Conrad cleared his throat. He reached into his coat pocket and pulledout a slip of paper.
"Joe—I mean, Dr. Waters—sent an answer to our request." He read:
"'I take my vorpal sword in hand. Beware, Jabberwock—I come. JoeWaters.'"
"The courage of youth," Sir Manly said, but he smiled.
Moskov looked at his watch. "He should be here, then."
"I am."
They all turned at the sound of that voice, and rose as Joe Watersstrode in. Just thirty years old, athletic, brilliant. He wasaccompanied by a wizened character in a baggy brown suit and crumpledfelt hat.
"Gentlemen." Joe said, and bowed. They all sat down.
"A friend," he explained, indicating his companion. "Name of Mike."
"Friend and buddy," Mike said in a whiskey-hoarse voice.
"We thought you understood, Dr. Waters," Moskov said, eyeing Mikedistastefully, "that this was to be a secret conference."
M. Tourneau, who had a sensitive nose, shifted his chair slightly awayfrom the bum.
Joe said, "I met Mike in a bar last night and he's been with me since.I like his unsophisticated point of view."
"Bar!" Sir Manly exclaimed, visibly shaken.
"Bar." Joe answered. "For the same reason I'm here now." He leanedforward.
"I happened to be looking at the moon with my girl when they blew itup." His eyes narrowed at the memory. "She started to cry, and wasstill at it when we got back to her apartment. That's when I went toa bar to get drunk. It's also one reason I'm here. When they take themoon away from lovers, it's the last straw!"
"Give 'em hell, kid!" Mike rasped. Joe silenced him with a wave of hishand, and Mike slouched down in his chair looking hurt.
"Mr. Conrad," Moskov said, "will you be good enough to give Dr. Watersthe latest developments?"
"All right. Joe, you know what's happened this past week."
Joe nodded.
"In case you didn't get the overall picture—their ships," he jerkeda thumb at the whine passing back and forth above, "have completelyblanketed the world. They have destroyed every means of defense we'veused against them. Atomic anti-aircraft, even, hasn't fazed them in theleast.
"Yesterday they sent for us. The head of their expeditio