Part 34 (1/2)

Frank Corson got up from his chair and hurled himself on Dennis.

Rhoda screamed.

Senator Crane sat at his desk. There were a pile of newspapers in front of him. The first one carried a front page story with the headline:

SENATOR CRANE WARNS OF s.p.a.cE INVASION

SHADES OF ORSON WELLS' MARTIAN SCARE STALKS CAPITOL CORRIDORS.

Crane tossed the paper aside listlessly and picked up the second one:

SENATORS VOICE CONCERN FOR SANITY OF COLLEAGUE

CRANE IN STUNNING TIRADE WARNS OF SCIENCE-FICTION DISASTER.

The third paper featured an internationally syndicated columnist, famous for his biting wit:

Senator Crane today launched a one-man campaign to make America s.p.a.ce-conscious. If there was any Madison Avenue thinking behind the launching it was certainly lower Madison Avenue.

In order to make his point--exactly what this was confused a vast roomful of newspapermen--the Senator invented a race of creatures called androids. These androids, it seems, look exactly like Tom Smith down the block except that they'd just as soon cut your throat as not.

We fear the Senator must have been watching the wrong television shows--knives yet, ugh!--possibly _Jim Bowie_, because there wasn't a ray gun nor a disintegrator in his whole bag of exhibits.

All in all, it would appear that the project was pointed toward making the people Senator Crane-conscious rather than aiming their attention at the deadly heavens.

Senator Crane put that paper aside and looked at the next. This one, more so than all the rest, was completely factual:

SENATOR CRANE DELUGED WITH WIRES FROM HOME

CONSt.i.tUENTS CLAIM WAs.h.i.+NGTON RIDICULE HEAPED ON SENATOR REFLECTS AGAINST STATE.

Crane dropped the paper and got up from the desk.

That son-of-a-b.i.t.c.h Taber was to blame for this. Shaping up a G.o.dd.a.m.n hoax and feeding it out piecemeal. By G.o.d--!

He went to the desk and dialed, and when the answer came he said, ”Halliday? Senator Crane here. I want to have a little talk with you about that d.a.m.ned tape. It's pretty obvious now that Taber planted it in a deliberate attempt to ... What's that? An appointment! Why, G.o.dd.a.m.n it, who the h.e.l.l do you think you are?.... Fifteen minutes next Wednesday? You're talking to a United States Senator--”

But Crane was no longer talking to Halliday. He had hung up.

Crane dialed another number. A pleasant female voice said, ”Matthew Porter's office.”

”This is Senator Crane. Put Porter on.”

”Just a moment.”

Crane waited. He waited for what seemed like ages, but a glance at his watch told him it had been less than five minutes. He disconnected and dialed again.