"Listen, Sandy," said Burke. "I've been ashamed of that crazy dream of
mine all my life. I've thought it was proof there was something wrong
with me. I'll still have to keep it secret, or nice men in white coats
will come and get me. But I'm going to do what all enterprising young
men are advised to do--dream greatly and then try to realize my dream.
It's quite impossible and it'll bankrupt me, but I think I'm going to
have fun."
He grinned at the two sisters as he led them firmly to Sandy's car.
"Shoo!" he said pleasantly. "You'd better go home now. I'll be leaving
in minutes, heading for Schenectady first. I need some electric stuff.
Then I'll go elsewhere. There'll be some shipments arriving, Sandy.
Take care of them for me, will you?"
He closed the car door and waved, still grinning. Pam fumed and started
the motor. Moments later their car trundled down the highway toward
town. Sandy clenched her fists.
"What can you do with a man like that?" she demanded. "Why do I bother
with him?"
"Shall I answer," asked Pam, "or shall I be discreetly sympathetic? I
wouldn't want him! But unfortunately, if you do--"
"I know," said Sandy forlornly. "I know, dammit!"
Burke was not thinking of either of them then. He opened the office
safe, put the six-inch object inside, and took out his checkbook. Then
he locked up, got into his car, and headed away from the plant and the
town he'd been brought up in. He was unshaven and uncombed and this
was an inappropriate time to start out on a drive of some hundreds of
miles, but it was a pleasing sensation to know that a job had turned up
that nobody else would even know how to start to work on. He drove very
cheerfully to a cross-country expressway and turned onto it. He settled
down at once to drive and to think.
He drove practically all night. Shortly after sunrise he stopped to
buy a razor and brush and comb and to make himself presentable. He
was the first customer on hand when a Schenectady firm specializing
in electronic apparatus for seagoing ships opened up for business. He
ordered certain equipment from a list he'd written on an envelope while
eating breakfast.
The morning papers, naturally, were full of the story of the answer
to the Earth signal sent out to M-387. The morning comedians made
jokes about it, and in every one of the business offices Burke visited
there was some mention of it. He listened, but had nothing to say. The
oddity of his purchases caused no remark. His was a small firm, but a
man working in research and development needs strange stuff sometimes.
He ordered two radar units to be modified in a particular fashion,
air-circulation pumps of highly specialized design to be changed in
this respect and that. He had trouble finding the electric generators
he wanted and had to pay heavily for alterations in them, and even more
heavily for a promise of delivery in days instead of weeks. He bought a
self-contained diving suit.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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