[Illustration]
You're certain to be included in a survey at one time or another.
However, there's one you may not recognize as such. Chances are it
will be more important than you imagine. It could be man's--
Prelude To Space
_By Robert W. Haseltine_
I was climbing the steep side of a central Wisconsin hill, holding my
bow away from my body for balance, when I first saw the stranger. He sat
on a stump at the crest and watched me struggle up. As I drew nearer I
panted out a greeting and received his cheerful "Hi" in return. When I
finally reached the top, I threw myself on the ground and began catching
my breath.
He didn't say anything at first, just looked at the bow and the quiver
of arrows on my back. Finally he said, "May I look at it?" and reached
for the bow. I handed it to him. He examined it carefully and returned
it.
"Beautiful workmanship. Is that all you use?" he asked.
"I never cared much for guns," I answered. "I've always thought a bow
gave the animal more of an even chance for his life."
We talked then on the various aspects of hunting and how the crisp fall
air seemed to make the deer seem closer than during the heat of summer.
While we talked I tried to place the reason he disturbed me, but I
couldn't seem to do it. He was dressed in an old plaid shirt and
dungarees and his blond hair wasn't many shades removed from my own
straw thatch. But there was something odd about him that I couldn't
quite find.
"Perhaps it's the cloth." His words surprised me. "You see, it hasn't
been discovered on this planet as yet." My face must have shown
astonishment because he went on in the same vein. "I admit it's
confusing, but it's also true. My clothes weren't made on Earth." He
chuckled then, deep in his throat. "I don't blame you for being
confused. I know how I would feel if I met an extraterrestrial being
before space travel was a reality."
I kept staring at him. Finally I blurted out, "What in Sam Hill are you
talking about?"
He leaned forward on the stump and his face grew earnest. "You might say
I'm a poll taker. I have to decide certain things from various
interviews with individuals I meet."
"What are you trying to prove?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, but I can't tell you that until I'm finished with the
interview. If I told you, your interest in the subject would tend to
prejudice your answers."
"Fair enough. What do you want to ask me?"
He pulled out a notebook and smiled. "These questions may seem a little
silly but I must have straight answers to them. Will you go along with
me?"
I nodded my head.
"Let's see now. If you were the head of a government and wanted to
ascertain whether another country was ready for admission into the
United Nations, what would you do?"
I shrugged. "I suppose I would read books and magazines from the country
and possibly have an interview with the heads of the government. After I
had collected my data I could then act upon it."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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