The 4-D Doodler | Page 4

Harper's eyes. "You--you mean I am being
specially watched by this Being--that He--It--imitates everything I
do...?"
"That's it," clipped Pillbot. "Because you possess this strange
perception of Its realm the Being has been especially attracted to you,
imitates whatever you do, but in a four dimensional manner. A Being
of inexplicable powers and prerogatives, with weird power over matter,
but with a mentality that is either very primitive, or--"
Harper leaped into the air with a yell, as Professor Gault's abbreviated
body sidled up to him from behind. As he leaped, the inside out orange
flew out of his grasp.
"I just know," he quavered, "that Professor Gault wants me to do
something, is probably barking orders at me from that other
dimension--oh dear, I've dropped the orange on the Professor's--where
his stomach should be!"
The squashy orange had landed on the area of Gault that was the line of
demarkation between his visible and invisible portions--the area that

his stomach would occupy normally. It rested there in plain sight of the
two startled men.
"I--I'd better remove it," said Harper weakly. He moved with a dreadful
compulsion toward the swaying half-figure, one slender hand extended
tremblingly toward the inverted orange.
Abruptly, the orange vanished. Harper halted like he'd run into a brick
wall. Staring blankly ahead, he put his hands to his stomach, moaning
faintly.
"What's the matter?" cried Pillbot.
"The orange--it's in my--stomach!"
"See, what did I tell you," exulted Pillbot. "Another act of imitativeness.
It saw you drop the orange on Gault's--where his stomach should be,
and imitated by putting the orange in your stomach. It proves I'm right
about the Being--glug!" With a loud belch, Pillbot broke off. He stared
blankly at Harper, then his hands slowly came up to clutch at his
stomach.
Harper looked quickly at the desk top.
"The other orange," he gasped. "It's gone!"
"Into--my--stomach!" groaned Pillbot. "Be--be careful what you do!
My God, don't do anything. Don't even think. This--this four
dimensional creature will surely imitate whatever you do in some weird
manner."
Rubbing his stomach, Pillbot glanced about at the various articles of
furniture. He blanched. "I wouldn't want any of that stuff inside of me,"
he yammered.
Harper flicked a despairing glance at the half-body, now gliding along
in the vicinity of the paper cutout.
"We--we must do something to get the Professor back," he said

worriedly.
* * * * *
He thought incongruously of a restaurant where he used to order lemon
pie--and invariably get apple. Finally he found that he could get lemon
by ordering peach. Now the problem was, what did he have to "order"
to get his employer extricated from being stuck between dimensions,
like a pig under a fence? Anything he did would be imitated in a
manner that might prove tragic.
The upright portion of the cutout was leaning over backward, the head
drooping down like a wilted flower, as the tension at the crease slowly
lessened.
Gathering together what resolution he could, Harper determined to take
the bull by the horns. He would get the Professor returned by pressing
the upper portion of the cutout flatly onto the desk surface. With
trembling hands, he pressed down on it--then sprang back with a
muffled yell.
Three feet above the half-body, the Professor's head had flashed into
visibility.
"You only pressed the head onto the desk," said Pillbot disgustedly, "so
the Being only impressed Galt's head back into the laboratory. Now
press down the rest of the body."
The Professor's head, suspended above the body, glared about, affixed
Harper with a smouldering glance. The mouth moved rapidly, but no
words came.
"Professor, I can't hear you," whimpered Harper. "Your lungs and vocal
cords are in the other dimension. Here, I'll have you completely
returned." He reached a hand toward the cutout, the torso of which still
bulged upward from the desk.
Gault's head wagged in vigorous negation of Harper's contemplated act.

His mouth moved in what, if audible, would have been clipped, burning
accents.
Harper drew back his hand as if he had touched a red hot poker. "The
Professor doesn't want me to touch the cutout," he said helplessly.
Gault's head hovered over the cutout like a gaunt moon. It swooped
down toward the paper figure, seemed to be studying its position on the
desk closely. Pillbot watched him for a sign of his intentions or wishes.
Harper wandered distractedly over toward the high wall bench. He had
it! He would distract the attention of the Entity from Gault by making
another cutout. He would then experiment with that second one,
without endangering Gault. He'd be careful not to make this one thin
and tall, so as not to resemble the Professor in outline. Perhaps with it,
he could trick the Entity into releasing the