The Glory of Ippling | Page 4

had no doubt of the
toy's educational value, but nevertheless--he sighed deeply.
When Boswellister reached the corner of Ventura and Laurel Canyon,
he made his stand on the southeast corner, facing the hills over which
the Ipplinger starship would come to hover over the intersection and be
revealed by him.
He contacted control and ordered the halo focus for his head. He
reached up and felt the circle, planted firmly over his brow. He smiled
to himself and went into his pitch.

* * * * *
"People of Earth," he began in a quavering voice, then he remembered
the Calsobisidine demonstrator, firmed up his tones and started again.
"People of Earth! Listen to the message from the stars!"
"Selling horoscopes," a woman answered her child's question.
"What's a horrorscope, mamma?"
"A bunch of hooey," she snapped in reply, scowled at Boswellister and
jerked her child complainingly down the street behind her.
"People of Earth!" Boswellister stated commandingly. He grasped a
man's arm, saying, "Stand still a moment, friend, and hear the promise
of Ippling. Glory beyond your imagination can be yours with the
ascendancy of Ippling in this world of tears and sorrows."
The man jerked away. "What the hell, Mac!" He looked searchingly at
Boswellister and muttered, "Geez, a nut." He stood back from
Boswellister to listen, smilingly superior, tolerantly waiting to be
entertained. A woman dragging a toddler stopped, then several other
people stopped to see until Boswellister had about ten people standing
around him.
"People of Earth!" he started in again, but he was interrupted by a
cackling voice from the rear.
"Where else?"
The small crowd laughed and started to move away, but Boswellister
stood straight and commanded them. "Listen! Wait for a moment and
learn your glorious destiny.
"Now," he said quietly into the lapel pickup, and the great doughnut
circle of the Ipplinger starship sailed in close over the hills. A line of
brush fire followed the starship.
Boswellister held up his hands and pointed. "Behold the glory of

Ippling that can be yours!" He held onto the halo, trying to get them to
follow the symbolism. "Look upwards!" He screamed at them, but they
watched the brush fire that swept the hill top. It was a goodie. It would
wipe out a number of homes.
He grabbed a boy by the arm and demanded, "Look at the Ipplinger
starship. Behold the glory of Ippling!"
The ten-year-old sneered. "Yah! That's the new 1993 Lockheed
X69-P37 experimental ship. I got a model last week."
"No, no, lad! The Ipplinger starship, come to Earth to bring the
blessings of Ippling's culture to this backwards planet. Ippling will save
you from wars and ills, from poverty and hatred. Ippling will be your
destiny. Follow me, Boswellister! Ippling will lead you to the stars!
Glory for all!" Boswellister patted the boy on the head.
"Keep your hands off me, you big stiff!"
Boswellister gulped and pointed upwards. "See the Ipplinger starship!"
"Aah! Shuddup!"
His mother jerked his arm in reproof. "How many times I've gotta tell
you not to say, shuddup. Say, SHUT UP! S-H-U-T U-P!"
"Aah!" the boy said in disgust. "Everybody knows starships are big
rockets!" He'd said the final word; he had no more interest in
Boswellister, for the fire engines were coming.
* * * * *
They sirened down Ventura and turned up Laurel Canyon, their heavy
motors, air horns and sirens drowning out Boswellister's speech. Cars
had piled up at the intersection to wait for the fire engines to make their
swing, and Boswellister leaped to the middle of the intersection as soon
as the trucks had turned.
He held up his arms and went into his People of Earth spiel again. But

angry, blasting horns cut his voice to nothing. The drivers pressed close
in on him, pinpointing him in the middle of the intersection. Shouts and
jeers and horns; the roaring scream of fire engines; people running and
shouting; Ventura at Laurel Canyon was a cacophonous maelstrom.
A traffic officer screeched his copcycle to a halt and made his way to
the center of the mass of tangled traffic. He blew his whistle and waved
his arms, ordering Boswellister to the sidewalk, but Boswellister
refused to move. He had his mission on Earth.
Boswellister shouted over the piled-up noise, waving his hand to the
sky, calling to them to follow his lead to the glory of Ippling.
The officer grabbed his coat collar and hustled him to the sidewalk.
"You're under arrest!"
"You can't arrest me!" Boswellister squirmed and jerked away. He
shouted, "Follow me!" and ran north, a good part of the crowd after
him. He shrieked an order into the pickup while he ran over the bridge
towards Moorpark.
A woman spotted the Ipplinger starship that followed overhead. "Free
samples!"