Spider Robinson - Time travelers strictly cash

TIME TRAVELERS STRICTLY CASH

Copyright (c) 1981 by Spider Robinson

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in a review, without permission in writing from the publisher.

All characters in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

An ACE Book

First Ace printing: March 1981

Published Simultaneously in Canada

2468097531

Manufactured in the United States of America

FIVESIGHT-Copyright (c) July, 1979, Omni Publications International, Ltd. reprinted with permission of copyright owner

SOULSEARCH-Copyright (c) December, 1979, 0mm Publications International, Ltd., reprinted with permission of copyright owner.

GOD IS AN IRON-Copyright (c) May, 1979, Omni Publications International, Ltd., reprinted with the permission of copyright owner.

SERPENTS TEETH-Copyright (c) February 1981, Omni Publications International, Ltd., reprinted with the permission of copyright owner.

SPIDER Vs. THE HAX OF SOL III-Copyright (c) 1975, UPD Publishing Corporation LOCAL CHAMP-Copyright (c) 1979, Spider Robinson MIRROR, MIRROR-Copyright (c) 1977, Conde Nast Publications; reprinted by permission of the author WEB OF SANITY-Copyright (c) 1981, Spider Robinson HAVE YOU HEARD THE ONE ?-Copyright (c) 1980, Conde Nast Publications; reprinted by permission of the author

DOG DAY EVENING-Copyright (c) 1977, Conde Nast Publications; reprinted by permission of the author.

RAH! RAH! R.A.H.!-Copyright (c) 1980, Spider Robinson All forewords, intros, outros, copyright (c) 1981, Spider Robinson

This ones for Jim Baen, of course.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Forewords 1

Fivesight 6

Soul Search 27

Spider vs. the Hax of Sol III 47

Dog Day Evening 57

God Is An Iron 72

Rah Rah R.A.H. 95

Have You Heard The One 121

Local Champ 146

The Web of Sanity 155

Mirror/rorriM Off The Wall 161

Serpents Teeth 184

FORE WORDS

TO NEW READERS:

If you have never heard of Callahans Place before, a brief word of itroduction should be read-since four stories in this book take place there.

Dont worry! Youre not late, nothing has started without you, there is no lengthy What-Has~Gone-Before to digest before you can begin. The Callahan stories have appeared in several different magaznes, and so Ive done my best to make each individual story self-contained. All you need to know going in is that Callahans bar has a fireplace, and a chalk line on the floor about ten meters away, and that patrons who are willing to give up the change from their drink are welcome to toe that line, propose a toast, and eighty-six their empty glass in that fireplace.

(Callahan gets a bulk discount on glasses.) As a result of this custom, a great many strange stories end up getting told in Callahans Place, and you may, (f you wish, skip now directly to the first one, Fivesight.

TO FR1ENDS OF CALLAHANS PLACE:

All right, I give up.

I tried; God knows I tried: youd think a professional liar could have pulled it off. But you people are just too clever for me. My cover is blown; time to face the music and confess.

In the first collection of Callahans bar stories, Callahans Crosstime Saloon (Ace paperback), I maintained flatly that there is no such tavern. Callahans Place, l said as that time, exists only between (a) my ears. (b) assorted Analog and Vertex covers, and of course (c) the covers of this book. Lf there is in fact a Callahans Place out there in the so-called real world, and you know where it is, I sincerely hope youll tell me.

In a fit of craftiness, I even went solar as to insert a few subtle contradictions in the stories themselves. For example, on page 1O I stated that the Place is always crowded on holidays; on page 162 I said it is usually empty on holidays. By this brilliant ploy I hoped I could discredit myself, and appear to be an absent~minded fictioneer. Such details get noticed! I have a hundred letters from readers who spotted that discrepancy, each convinced that they are smarter than me.

Since it seemed to work so well, I continued the custom. To each of the Callahan yarns Jake has told me since that first book was closed up I have added a tiny inconsistency with the rest of the series (and an autographed cigar butt to the first reader who correctly names them all). By this means I believed I could maintain the hoax forever.

But there are five letters on my desk that say that the jig is up.

The first four are from people who found Callahans Place. All four had needed to believe so badly that they ignored my disclaimer: they simply kept searching for the Place until they found it. 1 should have known it would happen. The Place is like that. But those letters caused me to reconsider the ethics of concealing the truth. How many people needed Callahans, but gave up because I told them the quest was hopeless?

Look: there is no restaurant so good that it can survive Being Discovered. If you know a real nice place to hang out, the best thing you can do-for yourself and for the place-is to keep your mouth shut about it, at least publicly. Close friends can sometimes be tipped off-but even here care is required, as every friend has other close friends. It sounds selfish, but its just pragmatic. If five hundred people try to share an apple, nobody benefits. Especially not the apple. So my inclination has been to play Callahans Place close to the vest.

But theres that fifth letter I mentioned.

It is from Mike Callahan; Handwritten, of course; his pinkies are a typewriter-key-and-a-half in width. The penmanship is superb; some long-ago nuns stern discipline has triumphed over broken fingers and popped knuckles and a natural disposition to be easygoing in all things. The ink is green. The paper is wrinkled and beer-stained, and smells faintly of cigar smoke-very cheap cigar smoke.

Mike writes, in part:

I appreciate your trying to keep the tourists and voyeurs out of our hair-if this Place gets too crowded, I cant let people smash their glasses in the fireplace. By all means keep our location under your hat, and keep your hat in a safe-deposit box. But I think youve gone just a bit too far in that direction. If folks think your stones are fiction, theyre liable to get the idea that this Place is only imaginary, that a Place like this couldnt really exist. Theyll miss the point that any bar can be Callahans Place, as soon as responsible people start hanging out there together. Youd be surprised how many sad sons of bitches believe people only care about each other in books.

I dont think youve given too many clues to our location. Somewhere off Route 25A in Suffolk County, N.Y. covers a lot of territory-anybody who can track us from that is either hurting bad enough to belong here, or resourceful enough to buy a round for the house.

So lets go public.

P.S.: When are you coming down for a visit? The Doc has a new stinker for you, and Jake and Eddie want to jam.

Which last brings me to a second confession:

This is NOT just a collection of Callahans Place stories, and so it is not, strictly speaking, a sequel to Callahans Crosstime Saloon.

It was supposed to be; thats how the contract reads. Yet Callahan stories occupy a little less than half the total wordage, just over 60% of the fiction content. Why? Well, now that Ive revealed the truth-that Callahans Place really exists-I can explain, its absurdly simple, really.

I dont live in Suffolk County any more.

I had so much success transcribing lakes yarns about Callahans Place (somehow that way-out stuff never seems to happen while Im there) that I was encouraged to try writing real science fiction on my own. It worked out rather well, and soon I decided I wanted to write for a living.