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| illustration by Jack Gaughan |
The World That Couldn't Be is a 1958 science fiction short story by Science Fiction Writers of America Grand Master Clifford D. Simak. I discovered this author in junior high school, and he is always worth re-visiting. His stories are thought-provoking. You can read this one online here. It begins,
The tracks went up one row and down another, and in those rows the vua plants had been sheared off an inch or two above the ground. The raider had been methodical; it had not wandered about haphazardly, but had done an efficient job of harvesting the first ten rows on the west side of the field. Then, having eaten its fill, it had angled off into the bush—and that had not been long ago, for the soil still trickled down into the great pug marks, sunk deep into the finely cultivated loam.
Somewhere a sawmill bird was whirring through a log, and down in one of the thorn-choked ravines, a choir of chatterers was clicking through a ghastly morning song. It was going to be a scorcher of a day. Already the smell of desiccated dust was rising from the ground and the glare of the newly risen sun was dancing off the bright leaves of the hula-trees, making it appear as if the bush were filled with a million flashing mirrors.
Gavin Duncan hauled a red bandanna from his pocket and mopped his face.
"No, mister," pleaded Zikkara, the native foreman of the farm. "You cannot do it, mister. You do not hunt a Cytha."
"The hell I don't," said Duncan, but he spoke in English and not the native tongue.
He stared out across the bush, a flat expanse of sun-cured grass interspersed with thickets of hula-scrub and thorn and occasional groves of trees, criss-crossed by treacherous ravines and spotted with infrequent waterholes.
It would be murderous out there, he told himself, but it shouldn't take too long. The beast probably would lay up shortly after its pre-dawn feeding and he'd overhaul it in an hour or two. But if he failed to overhaul it, then he must keep on.
"Dangerous," Zikkara pointed out. "No one hunts the Cytha."
"I do," Duncan said, speaking now in the native language.
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This can't end well.
ReplyDeleteThe ending surprised me. I hadn't remembered having read this one before tho I almost certainly had.
DeleteSounds intriguing and dangerous, she says in English (grin).
ReplyDeleteBTW, I'm about half way through Oh Mr. Porter, but I'm finding it less dry British humor and more slapstick.
I find a lot of British comedy to be slapstick-y. I've been watching Father Ted, and it's sooo _silly_! Not really to my taste.
DeleteAnother interesting sounding story. I love science fiction. I've saved the link. (As usual, my link list keeps getting longer.)
ReplyDeleteThis author is worth checking out if you're unfamiliar with him. I'm a big science fiction fan, too, and wish there were more of the modern short stories available online. I used to subscribe to the occasional magazine, but it got too expensive. And, of course, once they're gone it's hard to find them in collections...
DeleteAnother story to read in the long winter evenings, thanks! Valerie
ReplyDeleteI find it a comfort to have a stockpile on hand :)
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