ALOYS
BY R. A. LAFFERTY
Illustrated by WALKER
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Galaxy Magazine August 1961.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
He appeared in glory and sank without
a trace. Why? How? For the first time
anywhere, here is the startling inside story.
He had flared up more brightly than anyone in memory. And then he wasgone. Yet there was ironic laughter where he had been; and his ghoststill walked. That was the oddest thing: to encounter his ghost.
It was like coming suddenly on Haley's Comet drinking beer at thePlugged Nickel Bar, and having it deny that it was a celestialphenomenon at all, that it had ever been beyond the sun. For he couldhave been the man of the century, and now it was not even known if hewas alive. And if he were alive, it would be very odd if he would behanging around places like the Plugged Nickel Bar.
This all begins with the award. But before that it begins with the man.
Professor Aloys Foulcault-Oeg was acutely embarrassed and in a state ofdread.
"These I have to speak to, all these great men. Is even glory worththe price when it must be paid in such coin?"
Aloys did not have the amenities, the polish, the tact. A child ofpenury, he had all his life eaten bread that was part sawdust, and wornshoes that were part cardboard. He had an overcoat that had been hisfather's, and before that his grandfather's.
This coat was no longer handsome, its holes being stuffed and quiltedwith ancient rags. It was long past its years of greatness, and evenwhen Aloys had inherited it as a young man it was in the afternoon ofits life. And yet it was worth more than anything else he owned in theworld.
Professor Aloys had become great in spite of—or because of?—hispoverty. He had worked out his finest theory, a series of nineteeninterlocked equations of cosmic shapeliness and simplicity. He hadworked it out on a great piece of butchers' paper soaked with lamb'sblood, and had so given it to the world.
And once it was given, it was almost as though nothing else could beadded on any subject whatsoever. Any further detailing would be onlyfootnotes to it and all the sciences no more than commentaries.
Naturally this made him famous. But the beauty of it was that itmade him famous, not to the commonalty of mankind (this would havebeen a burden to his sensitively tuned soul), but to a small andscattered class of extremely erudite men (about a score of them in theworld). Their recognition brought him almost, if not quite, completesatisfaction.
But he was not famous in his own street or his own quarter of town. Andit was in this stark conglomerate of dark-souled alleys and roofs thatProfessor Aloys had lived all his life till just thirty-seven days ago.
When he received the announcement, award, and invitation, he quicklycalculated the time. It was not very long to allow travel halfwayaround the world. Being locked out of his rooms, as he often was, hewas unencumbered by baggage or furniture, and he left for the ceremonyat once.
With the announcement, award, and invitation, there had also been acheck; but as he was not overly familiar with the world of finance orwith the English language in which it was written, he did not recognizeit for what it was. Having used the back of it to write down a formulathat had crept into his mind, he shoved the check, forgotten, into oneof the pockets of his grea