Jubilation, U.S.A. | Page 2

The crypterpreter had already informed him that oral conversation was
the manner of communication on the strange planet. Such conversation
had long ago been abandoned on the planet Capella, but learned men
such as Toryl and Sartan were familiar with how it was done, though
when they spoke 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. "You ain't
the only snake in this desert. There's four customers ahead of you!"
Sartan transmitted an admonishing thought to his companion. "Toryl,
you should 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-handled machines that seemed to have most of the customers
fascinated.
Sartan wandered over to where a small crowd of men was gathered
around a single machine. A huge man, raw-boned and crimson-faced,
wearing surplus army suntans, was operating the machine.
The big man dropped a large coin into a slot. He gave the silver handle
a vicious snap. It made a discordant, bone-crushing sound. Three little
wheels, visible under glass, spun dizzily. Anxious, screwed-up faces
looked on as the first little wheel stopped. Bell Fruit.
A collective gasp came from the small crowd. The second little wheel
stopped. Bell Fruit.
Another gasp.
Sartan touched the arm of the man operating the gambling device. "I

beg your pardon, but could you please tell me--"
The big man wheeled around like a bear aroused from hibernation.
"Hands off, mister! You trying to jinx me?"
The third little wheel stopped. Lemon.
The crowd groaned. The big man turned on Sartan again, a wild and
furious look in his eye. "You jinxed me! Damn you, I oughta' bust you
one 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," roared
the gambler.
Toryl quickly made his way through the small crowd which by now
was itching to witness a fight. "Ex-cuse me, sir, but my friend did not
real-ize--"
"The hell he didn't!" The gambler fumed. "He was trying to jinx me, by
God! And I'm gonna teach him to keep his paws--"
"Okay, okay, you guys, break it up!!" It was Okie, massive and mean
looking, using his barrel belly to push his way through to the two aliens
and the unlucky gambler. "What's goin' on here, Smokey?" he inquired
of the gambler.
"Okie, I had a jackpot workin' when this dumb jerk here ups and grabs
my arm--"
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'd you 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 forward

to. They both grinned confident grins. "We have come to you from
Capella," 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 to
elucidate. "Capella is lo-cat-ed in the con-stell-a-tion which you call
Auriga."
"Anybody know what the hell he's talking about?" asked the annoyed
saloonkeeper.
Toryl and Sartan exchanged troubled glances. Sartan took up the cudgel.
"Auriga is a constellation, a star cluster, sir. It is forty-two million light
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 up
there, sometimes stays light the whole confounded year 'round."
"That must be it," agreed Okie, "and that's why they're wearin' them
crazy suits." The saloonkeeper unloosed a grim laugh. "You can take
them arctic pajamas off now, boys. Weather's kinda warm in these
parts!"
"Hey, fellas!" a voice shot out, "didya bring any Eskimo babes down
with you?"
* * * * *
The crowd roared approval at the witticism.
Toryl transmitted a depressing thought to his companion. "I fear they
do not believe us, Sartan."

Sartan did not get the opportunity to answer immediately.
"Listen, you guys," Okie pounded his fat finger into Sartan's chest. "I
want you to behave yourselves, understand? Now that means lay off the
customers while they're at the games. You wanna gamble there is
plenty of machines available. I got a respectable place, I wanna keep it
that way!" He turned and addressed the other men. "All right, boys,
fun's over! No fight today! Drink up and gamble your money away.
Let's get back to the games."
* * *