Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
JUBILATION, U.S.A.
By G. L. VANDENBURG
_You've heard, I'm sure, about the two Martians who went into a bar, saw a jukebox flashing and glittering, and said to it, "What's a nice girl like you doing in a joint like this?" Well, here's one about two Capellans and a slot-machine...._
Toryl pointed the small crypterpreter toward the wooden,horseshoe-shaped sign. The sign's legend was carved in bright yellowletters. Sartan, Toryl's companion, watched up and down the open highwayfor signs of life. In seconds the small cylindrical mechanism completedthe translation.
The sign said:
JUBILATION, U.S.A.!!
The doggondest, cheeriest little town in America!
The two aliens smiled at each other. Unaccustomed to oral conversation,they exchanged thoughts.
"_The crypterpreter worked incredibly fast. The language is quitesimple. It would seem safe to proceed. The sign indicatesfriendliness_," thought Toryl, the older of the two Capellans.
"_Very well, Brother_," replied Sartan, "_though I still worry for thesafety of the ship_."
"_Sartan, our instruments tell us that anyone who discovers the ship_,"Toryl explained, a trifle impatient, "_will show a remarkable degree ofcuriosity before they display any hostility_."
Sartan agreed to dismiss his worries and the two aliens began to walkalong the barren highway. Before them, at a great distance, they couldsee a cluster of small frame buildings. When they had walked a hundredfeet or more they encountered another sign.
JUBILATION, U.S.A.!!
WELCOME, STRANGER! See America first and begin with JUBILATION!
And several hundred feet further two more signs.
THE ROTARY CLUB of Jubilation welcomes and extends the warm hand of friendship to you!!!! You are now entering Paradise, brother!
HOWDY, STRANGER! COME RIGHT ON IN, STAY AWHILE AND MAKE YOURSELF TO HOME!
--Jubilation Chamber of Commerce--
As members of a peaceful race, Toryl and Sartan naturally found thesigns encouraging. They walked at a sprightly pace.
A whirring noise behind them brought the two to a halt. They turned todiscover a pre-war Chevy choking its way along the road. The aliensedged their way to a gulley along the side of the road. They wereconfident of a friendly reception but, in the event their calculationshad been wrong, they poised themselves to make a break in the directionof their ship.
The ancient Chevy sputtered by. The driver was almost as ancient as thecar, a bearded fellow with a stogy stuck between his teeth and a crushedhat on his head.
The driver slowed down when he saw the aliens. "Howdy, strangers!" heyelled cheerily. "Say, ain't you fellers a mite warm in them coveralls?"He cackled merrily, put his foot to the floor and sped on by.
Sartan looked at his companion. "_I am sorry, I should not have doubtedyou, Brother. You were right. These people will welcome our visit. Theyseem very cordial._"
"_Good, Sartan. Let us continue._"
One hundred yards further they were confronted by still another brace ofsigns. They stopped once more.
CITY LIMITS (Gambling allowed)
JUBILATION! WHERE TROUBLES never come due, 'cause the Good Lord takes a likin' to YOU!
Where gloom and doom are outlawed and there's never any sadness.
Where a smile lights up the midnight sky and gives off only gladness!
(Gambling allowed)
The second sign was another in the shape of a horseshoe.
BEYOND THIS POINT YOU HAVE 4372 FRIENDS YOU NEVER HAD BEFORE!!!
(Gambling allowed)
Suddenly Toryl stopped and played with several switches and dials on thecrypterpreter.
"_What is wrong, Brother?_" asked the puzzled Sartan.
"_I receive no direct translation for the term 'gambling'._"
"_What is the closest term the machine gives?_"
"_Fraternizing._"
Sartan laughed. "_Now it is you who fret, Toryl. According to thesignpost legends 'fraternizing' would seem to be accurate._"
* * * * *
A steady rolling sound of passionless one-armed bandits drowned out allother noise in Okie's Oasis Bar. As a result, Toryl and Sartan drewlittle attention when they entered. Except for their blue-metallic spacesuits they looked like and _were_ ordinary humans.
They proceeded rather timidly toward the bar. Okie, the proprietor, wason duty readying the place for the night shift. Toryl held up his hand.The crypterpreter had already informed him that oral conversation wasthe manner of communication on the strange planet. Such conversation hadlong ago been abandoned on the planet Capella, but learned men such asToryl and Sartan were familiar with how it was done, though when theyspoke they sometimes had to halt between syllables.
"How-dy!" Toryl flashed a wide grin at the barkeep.
"Just hold your horses there, mister!" was Okie's sharp reply. "Youain't the only snake in this desert. There's four customers ahead ofyou!"
Sartan transmitted an admonishing thought to his companion. "_Toryl, youshould have noticed that the man was busy. He has only two hands._"
"_Forgive me, Brother, I was blinded by my own excitement._"
The two Capellans waited and were soon attracted by the silver-handledmachines that seemed to have most of the customers fascinated.
Sartan wandered over to where a small crowd of men was gathered around asingle machine. A huge man, raw-boned and crimson-faced, wearing surplusarmy suntans, was operating the machine.
The big man dropped a large coin into a slot. He gave the silver handlea vicious snap. It made a discordant, bone-crushing sound. Three littlewheels, visible under glass, spun dizzily. Anxious, screwed-up faceslooked on as the first little wheel stopped. _Bell Fruit._
A collective gasp came from the small crowd. The second little wheelstopped. _Bell Fruit._
Another gasp.
Sartan touched the arm of the man operating the gambling device. "I begyour pardon, but could you please tell me--"
The big man wheeled around like a bear aroused from hibernation. "Handsoff, mister! You trying to jinx me?"
The third little wheel stopped. _Lemon._
The crowd groaned. The big man turned on Sartan again, a wild andfurious look in his eye. "You jinxed me! Damn you, I oughta' bust youone right in the snout!!"
"My humble apol-o-gies, sir," the bewildered Sartan began.
"I'll give you your humble apologies right back with my fist," roaredthe gambler.
Toryl quickly made his way through the small crowd which by now wasitching to witness a fight. "Ex-cuse me, sir, but my friend did notreal-ize--"
"The hell he didn't!" The gambler fumed. "He was trying to jinx me, byGod! And I'm gonna teach him to keep his paws--"
"Okay, okay, you guys, break it up!!" It was Okie, massive and meanlooking, using his barrel belly to push his way through to the twoaliens and the unlucky gambler. "What's goin' on here, Smokey?" heinquired of the gambler.
"Okie, I had a jackpot workin' when this dumb jerk here ups and grabs myarm--"
Toryl interrupted with, "My friend is sorry for what he did, sir."
Okie stabbed a cigar into his mouth. "Who _are_ you guys anyhow? Where'dyou dig up them crazy coveralls?"
"Sure a queer way to dress in this heat," spoke a voice from the crowd.
This was the moment of pride that Toryl and Sartan had looked forwar
dto. They both grinned confident grins. "We have come to you fromCapella," he said with some exultation.
Okie's face went blank. "Capella! Where the hell is that?"
"Sounds like one of them damn hick towns in California," said Smokey,the gambler.
Toryl, somewhat deflated, but by no means defeated, hastened toelucidate. "Capella is lo-cat-ed in the con-stell-a-tion which you callAuriga."
"Anybody know what the hell he's talking about?" asked the annoyedsaloonkeeper.
Toryl and Sartan exchanged troubled glances. Sartan took up the cudgel."Auriga is a constellation, a star cluster, sir. It is forty-two millionlight years away."
"What in tarnation is a light year?" asked an old-timer in the group.
Another replied, "They must be from Alaska. They got light years