American Science Fiction #41 — page 27: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE FINAL | FIGURE a 27 - “fhis is General Wales,” said the lad very politely. “General—Uncle Angus.” The General had a ridiculous fugi- tive memory—" Alice, mutton—mut- ton, Alice.” He shook hands with the model-maker. “Honored, General,” said Mac- Reedy. He ushered them into a liv- ing room, whose désk and tables and mantel were literally covered with miniature American soldiery. He said, “Sorry the place is such a mess” —picking up the morning paper from the carpet beside a worn but com- fortable-looking easy-chair—‘“but I wasn’t expecting callers. I just had to boot out some sort of a mad Rus- ian “What!” The General didn’t mean to bark but couldn’t help it. MacReedy grinned quietly and said, “This fellow said he was assistant military attache, or something. Offered me all kinds of money to do some . work for him.” “What did he look like?” the Gen- eral asked. MacReedy, filling a corn-cob pipe that appeared to be near the close of its short life, paused to say, “Like nothing special—not nearly as distin- guished as you, General. Blond, chunky fellow with a bit of accent. Not a lot, but enough.” The General. exchanged glances with Toby. He knew, without ask- - ing, that the boy was thinking the same as himself; it was the man who had bought the XT-101 model in the shop earlier that afternoon. MacReedy got his pipe going and said through a small blue cloud of smoke, “How does the exhibit look, Toby? Have they got it right?” “Pretty good, Uncle Angus,” said the lad seriously. “They got the ' Mexican and Black Hawk War. units mixed up, but J guess we can’t blame them for that.” “I guess we can’t,” said MacReedy. He turned to the General, added, “Now, sir, what can I do for you? Or need I ask?” “I have a hunch you cow pretty well what I’m after,” said the Gen- - “My predecessor must have eral. given you some idea.” - Reedy with a sigh: said stoutly. “I’ve been afraid of this,” said Mac- “It’s what*I de- serve for trying to show off to Toby.” “] don’t understand,” said the Gen- eral. “I was trying to show Toby how good I was,” he said, ruffling the boy’s curly hair. “Then, when | got that seventy-five AA-gun ‘doped out ahead of time—and it proved correct—I had to go one step further. I should never have let the model out of the house.” “Id like to see your workshop, = said the General. Angus MacReedy removed his pipe and said, = ome along. 8 Ba basement ran the length and width of the house. Although furnace and fuel-storage were walled off in a separate room at one end ‘it still provided a. sizable workroom, enough for three long wooden tables. ~ On one of them MacReedy..carved his ~ tiny figures and cannon and vehicle parts from solid chunks of lead. An- other was used for panting, a third for drying, On this third table were a half- dozen more of the XT-101’s—along with a group of Confederate cannon- eers and their field-pieces, some In- dians, a small group of knights in armour, and what appeared to be Roman Legionaries. The General pointed to these and said, “I didn’t know you went in for them. I thought you were strictly an American specialist.” MacReedy puffed at his pipe, then said, “I’m doing these for Toby—in return for his services as delivery boy and all-around helper. Im trying to teach him history in reverse.” _ “Odd concept,” said the General. “It works—doesn’t it, Toby?” Mac- Reedy said to the Jad. “Uncle Angus says it will help me when I take history in college,” Toby “This is King Henry the Fifth at Agincourt—just like Sir Lawrence Olivier in the movie. And this is Genghis Khan. And here is T amerlaine, and Charles Martel, and Caesar . . me “T see,” said the General:- He was a_ little overwhelmed at so much evi- = Comicbooks.com eS te