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Acolyte, vol 1, issue 3, whole 3, Spring 1943
Page 16
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"Well, what have you tried so far?" "I spent my teens hunting for novelty, excitement, and all that. I couldn't find it. It's all very well to be a romantic soldier of fortune, or an arch-criminal. But the moments of variety, of thrills, come no more often than they would in the course of Casper Milquetoast's life. I speak from experience. As often as you fight a trader with naked blades or get in a running gunfight, the average man participates in a trolley smashup or kicks his brother-in-law out of the house. The difference is too slight to care for. "So I decided money might somehow purchase for me novelty and differentness. A little college put me where I am now. I have enough leisure, after teaching adolescents third-year physics four or five hours a day, eight months a year. No use. The money comes in handy, to experiment towards finding something new. But those experiments never work out." He grimaced. "Never did before, that is." "How about the war?" "Too big a gamble. I'm draft-deferred because teachers are becoming scarce. If I enlisted, I'd have to go through months or years of the most deadly dull routine training. When I finally reached a fighting zone, I might very well get hit with a piece of shrapnel that I didn't even see coming, and be forced to spend the rest of my life in a hospital." "Drinks? Drugs?" "I've tried both. I knew it was useless before I began. The things they do are purely subjective. Their effects last such a short while, and they make me twice as desperate afterwards. Besides, I've gotten to be afraid of them. Suppose I became addicted, and were confined forcibly to a 'cure' that might make me go mad?" "That's an idea," the devil said rather doubtfully. "Insanity might...." "No, I've thought of that. Doubtful and risky. A person who was insane and cured rarely remembers what went on. If he does, the experience wasn't very nice. Insanity until death, in my case, might possibly turn the trick. The dream world might become reality to me, and I'd die not realizing that I was living in a world my own making, and death would end--- "But it wouldn't. You're here as proof. Now where does that leave us?" Graham began pacing the room distractedly. "While I'm thinking," said the demon, "will you explain precisely what you mean, when you say you must have a bit of variety?" "Anything," Graham stated carefully, "that I can be certain is not a vicarious or subjective experience; something that will actually be novel, and scare, enchant, shock, or otherwise jolt me; preferably something that can be repeated at will, and continue as long as I wish; and something that won't end my life too soon---no, there I go again. I had thought that atheism is the only sensible belief, and now you've spoiled it all. Or are you---" The devil smirked. He hiccoughed gently, and immediately ground out the resultant smouldering spot on the rug with a cloven hoof. "It's a good thing that we got together," he said. "I have just the thing for you. You want a change. You shall have it." "When? And how?" "What time is it?" "One in the morning." "All right. You'll have it very soon, when you least expect it, and within twenty-four hours." "Are you sure there is no fee whatsoever?" But the demon was gone. There was no trace of him. He hadn't gone in a puff, there was -- 16 --
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"Well, what have you tried so far?" "I spent my teens hunting for novelty, excitement, and all that. I couldn't find it. It's all very well to be a romantic soldier of fortune, or an arch-criminal. But the moments of variety, of thrills, come no more often than they would in the course of Casper Milquetoast's life. I speak from experience. As often as you fight a trader with naked blades or get in a running gunfight, the average man participates in a trolley smashup or kicks his brother-in-law out of the house. The difference is too slight to care for. "So I decided money might somehow purchase for me novelty and differentness. A little college put me where I am now. I have enough leisure, after teaching adolescents third-year physics four or five hours a day, eight months a year. No use. The money comes in handy, to experiment towards finding something new. But those experiments never work out." He grimaced. "Never did before, that is." "How about the war?" "Too big a gamble. I'm draft-deferred because teachers are becoming scarce. If I enlisted, I'd have to go through months or years of the most deadly dull routine training. When I finally reached a fighting zone, I might very well get hit with a piece of shrapnel that I didn't even see coming, and be forced to spend the rest of my life in a hospital." "Drinks? Drugs?" "I've tried both. I knew it was useless before I began. The things they do are purely subjective. Their effects last such a short while, and they make me twice as desperate afterwards. Besides, I've gotten to be afraid of them. Suppose I became addicted, and were confined forcibly to a 'cure' that might make me go mad?" "That's an idea," the devil said rather doubtfully. "Insanity might...." "No, I've thought of that. Doubtful and risky. A person who was insane and cured rarely remembers what went on. If he does, the experience wasn't very nice. Insanity until death, in my case, might possibly turn the trick. The dream world might become reality to me, and I'd die not realizing that I was living in a world my own making, and death would end--- "But it wouldn't. You're here as proof. Now where does that leave us?" Graham began pacing the room distractedly. "While I'm thinking," said the demon, "will you explain precisely what you mean, when you say you must have a bit of variety?" "Anything," Graham stated carefully, "that I can be certain is not a vicarious or subjective experience; something that will actually be novel, and scare, enchant, shock, or otherwise jolt me; preferably something that can be repeated at will, and continue as long as I wish; and something that won't end my life too soon---no, there I go again. I had thought that atheism is the only sensible belief, and now you've spoiled it all. Or are you---" The devil smirked. He hiccoughed gently, and immediately ground out the resultant smouldering spot on the rug with a cloven hoof. "It's a good thing that we got together," he said. "I have just the thing for you. You want a change. You shall have it." "When? And how?" "What time is it?" "One in the morning." "All right. You'll have it very soon, when you least expect it, and within twenty-four hours." "Are you sure there is no fee whatsoever?" But the demon was gone. There was no trace of him. He hadn't gone in a puff, there was -- 16 --
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