A. E. van Vogt - The Empire of Isher: The Weapon Makers The Weapon Shops of Isher

The Empire Of Isher

The Weapon Shopsof Isher (1951) The Weapon Makers (1947)

A.E. Van Vogt

Orb Books An imprint of Tor Books

ISBN-10:0-3128-7500-2

MAGICIAN BELIEVED TO

HAVE HYPNOTIZED CROWD

June 11, 1951Police and newspapermen believe that Middle Citywill shortly be advertised as the next stopping place of a master magician andthey are prepared to extend him a hearty welcome if he will condescend toexplain exactly how he fooled hundreds of people into believing they saw astrange building, apparently a kind of gun-shop.

The building seemed to appear on the space formerly,and still, occupied by Aunt Sally's Lunch and Patterson Tailors. Only employeeswere inside the two aforementioned shops, and none noticed any untoward event.A large, brightly shining sign featured the front of the gunshop, which hadbeen so miraculously conjured out of nothingness; and the sign constituted thefirst evidence that the entire scene was nothing but a masterly illusion. Forfrom whichever angle one gazed at it, one seemed to be staring straight at thewords, which read:

FINEWEAPONS

THERIGHT TO BUY WEAPONS

ISTHE RIGHT TO BE FREE

The window display was made up of an assortment of rathercuriously shaped guns, rifles as well as small arms; and a glowing sign in thewindow stated:

THEFINEST ENERGY WEAPONS

IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE

InspectorClayton of the Investigation Branch attempted to enter the shop, but the doorseemed to be locked. A few moments later, C. J. (Chris) McAllister, reporter ofthe Gazette-Bulletin, triedthe door, found that it opened, and entered.

InspectorClayton attempted to follow him, but discovered that the door was again locked.It is believed that McAllister went through to the back, as several spectatorsreported seeing him. Immediately after his reappearance, the strange buildingvanished as abruptly as it had appeared.

Policestate they are baffled as to how the master magician created so detailed anillusion for so long a period before so large a crowd. They are prepared torecommend his show, when it comes, without reservations.

(Author'sNote: The foregoing account did not mention that the police, dissatisfied withthe affair, attempted to contact McAllister for a further interview, but wereunable to locate him. Weeks have passed; and he has still not been found. What did happen to McAllister from theinstant that he found the door of the gunshop unlocked?)

Therewas a curious quality about the gunshop door. It was not so much that it openedat his first touch as that, when he pulled, it came away like a weightlessthing. McAllister had the impression that the knob had freed itself into hispalm.

Hestood very still, startled. The thought that came finally had to do withInspector Clayton who, a minute earlier, had found the door locked. The thoughtwas like a signal. From behind him boomed the voice of the inspector:

"Ah,McAllister, I'll handle this now."

Itwas dark inside the shop beyond the door, too dark to see anything, andsomehow, his eyes wouldn't accustom themselves to the intense gloom. Purereporter's instinct made him step forward toward the blackness that pressedfrom beyond the rectangle of door. Out of the corner of one eye, he sawInspector Clayton's hand reaching for the door handle that his own fingers hadlet go a moment before. And he knew instantly that if the inspector couldprevent it, no reporter would get inside that building. His head was stillturned, his gaze more on the police officer than on the darkness in front; andit was as he began another step forward that the remarkable thing happened.

The door handle would not allow Inspector Clayton to touch it. Ittwisted in some queer way, in some energy way, for it was still there, astrange, blurred shape. The door itself, without visible movement it was soswift, was suddenly touching McAllister's heel. Light, almost weightless, wasthat touch; and then, before he could think or react to what had happened, themomentum of his forward movement had carried him inside. As he breasted thedarkness, there was a sudden, agonized tensing along his nerves. Then the doorshut tight, the brief, unexpected agony faded. Ahead was a brightly-lit shop;behindwere unbelievable things!

ForMcAllister, the moment that followed was one of blank impression. He stood,body twisted awkwardly, only vaguely conscious of the shop's interior, buttremendously aware in the brief moment before he was interrupted of what laybeyond the transparent panels of the door through which he had just come.

Therewas no unyielding blackness anywhere, no Inspector Clayton, no muttering crowdof gaping spectators, no dingy row of shops across the way. It was not even thesame street. There was no street. Instead, a peaceful park was visible. Beyondit, brilliant under a noon sun, was the skyline of a vast city. From behindhim, a husky, musical, woman's voice said:

"Youwill be wanting a gun?"

McAllisterturned. The movement was automatic reaction to a sound. And because the affairwas still like a dream, the city scene faded almost instantly; his mind focusedon the young woman who was advancing slowly from the rear section of the store.Briefly, his thought wouldn't come clear. A conviction that he ought to saysomething was tangled with first impressions of the girl's appearance. She hada slender well-shaped body; her face was creased with a pleasant smile. She hadbrown eyes, and wavy brown hair. Her simple frock and sandals seemed so normalat first glance that he gave them no further thought. He was able to say:

"WhatI can't understand is why the police officer, who tried to follow me, couldn'tget in. And where is he now?"

Tohis surprise, the girl's smile became faintly apologetic: "We know thatpeople consider it silly of us to keep harping on that ancient feud." Hervoice grew firmer. "We even know how clever the propaganda is that stressesthe silliness of our stand. Meanwhile, we never allow any of her men inhere. We continue to take our principles very seriously."

Shepaused as if she expected comprehension from him. But McAllister saw from theslow puzzlement creeping into her eyes that his face must look as blank as thethoughts behind it. Her men! The girl had spoken the words as if shewere referring to some personage, and in direct reply to his use of the word,police officer. That meant her men, whoever she was, were policemen; andthey weren't allowed in this gunshop. So the door was hostile, and wouldn'tadmit them. An emptiness struck into McAllister's mind, matching the hollownessthat was beginning to afflict the pit of his stomach, a sense of unplumbeddepths, the first staggering conviction that all was not as it should be. Thegirl was speaking in a sharper tone:

"Youmean you know nothing of all this, that for generations the gunmaker's guildhas existed in this age of devastating energies as the common man's onlyprotection against enslavement? The right to buy guns" She stopped, hernarrowed eyes searching him; then: "Come to think of it, there's somethingvery peculiar about you. Your outlandish clothes you're not from the northernfarm plains are you?"

He shook his head dumbly, more annoyed with his reactions everypassing second. But he couldn't help it. A tightness was growing in him now,becoming more unbearable instant by instant, as if somewhere a vital mainspringwas being wound to the breaking point.

Theyoung woman went on more swiftly: "And come to think of it, it isastounding that a policeman should have tried the door, and there was noalarm."

Herhand moved. Metal flashed in it, metal as bright as steel in blinding sunlight.There was not the slightest hint of an apology in her voice as she said:"You will stay where you are, sir, until I have called my father. In ourbusiness, with our responsibilities, we never take chances. Something is verywrong here."