The Gostak and the DoshesBreuer, Miles J. (Miles John)
Science
The Gostak and the Doshes
Breuer, Miles J. (Miles John)
Fourth dimension -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
Again, John found a lot of time to take me about the city and show
me banks and stores and offices. He drove a little squat car with
tall wheels, run by a spluttering gasoline motor. (The car was not
as perfect as our modern cars, and horses were quite numerous in the
streets. Yet John was a busy business man, the district superintendent
of a life-insurance agency). Think of it! Life insurance in Einstein’s
_t_ dimension.
“You’re young to be holding such an important position,” I suggested.
“Got started early,” John replied. “Dad is disappointed because I
didn’t see fit to waste time in college. Disgrace to the family, I am.”
What in particular shall I say about the city? It might have been
any one of a couple of hundred American cities. Only it wasn’t. The
electric street cars, except for their bright green color, were
perfect; they might have been brought over bodily from Oshkosh
or Tulsa. The ten-cent stores with gold letters on their signs;
drug-stores with soft drinks; a mad, scrambling stock-exchange;
the blaring sign of an advertising dentist; brilliant entrances to
motion-picture theaters, were all there. The beauty-shops did wonders
to the women’s heads, excelling our own by a good deal, if I am any
judge; and at that time I had nothing more important on my mind than to
speculate on that question. Newsboys bawled the _Evening Sun_, and the
_Morning Gale_, in whose curious, flat type I could read accounts of
legislative doings, murders, and divorces, quite as fluently as I could
in my own _Tribune_ at home. Strangeness and unfamiliarity had bothered
me a good deal on a trip to Quebec a couple of years ago; but they were
not noticeable here in the _t_ dimension.
For three or four weeks the novelty of going around, looking at things,
meeting people, visiting concerts, theaters, and department stores, was
sufficient to absorb my interest. Professor Vibens’ hospitality was so
sincerely extended that I did not hesitate to accept, though I assured
him that I would repay it as soon as I got established in this world.
In a few days I was thoroughly convinced that there was no way back
home. Here I must stay, at least until I learned as much as Woleshensky
knew about crossing dimensions. Professor Vibens eventually secured for
me a position at the University.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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