FAIRYLAND PLANET By JOHN SILLETTO Illustrated by RICHARD KLUGA _Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists, if nowhere else, on one particular planet, where there are a Daddy and a Mommy and 137 Kids. It's a very very happy place--until somebody asks the quite obvious question...._ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Infinity October 1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] CHAPTER I He was about thirty-eight years old, Earth-scale, with a sprinkling of premature gray in his thick hair. His stride as he came toward the desk had a youthful bounce, but his eyes were a little less bright than I was accustomed to here in Fairyland. His brows were pulled slightly inward, and he wasn't smiling. "Hi, Mike-One," I said. "Good morning, Daddy." Very formal, and solemn. A bad sign, I thought. I gave him a big reassuring grin and waved him into a chair. "This is a pleasant surprise, Mike-One. I hardly ever have a caller during Ice Cream Recess." He squirmed in the chair, looking down at his feet. "I--I could come back later, Daddy." "No, no," I said hastily, "that's all right. A feller must have something pretty important on his mind to bring him all the way up to Daddy's office at Ice Cream time." Mike-One fidgeted. He tugged at a lock of hair and began to twist it. "Well...." "Come on," I cajoled. "What's it all about? That's what Daddy's here for, you know--to listen to your troubles!" He scuffed his feet around on the floor. Then he took out a handkerchief and blew his nose. "Well ... see, I got a buddy--well, he ain't really my _best_ buddy, or even second best. Sometimes we play chess together. Or checkers, only he thinks checkers is silly." I cleared my throat and smiled patiently, waiting for him to come to the point. When he didn't go on I said, "What's his name?" "Uh ... Adam." "Adam-Two, or -Three?" "-Two." I nodded. "Okay, go on." "He talks crazy, an' he's always _wonderin'_ about things. I never seen a kid to wonder so much. An' he's only twenty-three." I nodded again. "And now he's got _you_ to wonderin' about something and you want Daddy to straighten you out. Right?" "Uh-huh." "Okay," I said, "shoot!" He sniffed and scuffed his feet and scrooched around in the chair some more. Then suddenly he opened his eyes wide and looked me square in the face and blurted: "Is there _really_ a Santa Claus?" The grin I was wearing froze on my face. It seemed I'd been waiting twenty years for one of the Kids to ask me that question. _Daddy, is there a Santa Claus?_ A loaded question, loaded and fused and capable of blasting the Fairyland Experiment into space-dust. Mike-One was waiting for an answer, I had to deal with the crisis of the moment and worry about implications later.