In just a moment, X minus one, but first, no one can deny that spring is in the air, and to prepare for the new season, NBC's Weekday brings you some timely and useful features. One is a new series with Phil and Ampby on gardening tents for both city and country dwellers. A second feature brings you hints for the best use of leisure time, and you can also bet that Jo Copeland, famous dress designer, will enlighten you on the spring fashion picture when she appears on tomorrow's show. Listen in and hear it all on NBC's Weekday tomorrow morning. And now stay tuned for X minus one on NBC. Three. Countdown for blast off. X minus five, four, three, two, X minus one, fire. From the far horizons of the unknown come transcribed tales of new dimensions in time and space. These are stories of the future, adventures in which you'll live in a million could be years on a thousand maybe worlds. The National Broadcasting Company, in cooperation with Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine, presents X minus one. One. Tonight's story, a gun for dinosaur by L. Sprague de Camp. A just whiskey, please. No soda. Ice, Mr. Rivers. Good heavens no. I have been in America for some time, but not that long. Well, to a fine dinosaur. Well now, just a moment, Mr. Seligman. I won't take you hunting late Mesozoic dinosaur. Why not? How much do you weigh, about nine stone? One hundred and thirty pounds. Yeah, I thought so. It's not heavy enough. But your advertisement, you said safaris arranged to any time period. Well, I'll take you to any period in the Cenozoic. I'll get you a shot at any Inteladont or even Mammoth or Mastodon. They have fine heads, but I'll jolly well not take you to the Jurassic or the Cretaceous. You're just too small. But what's my weight got to do with it? Look here, old boy, what did you think you were going to shoot those dinosaur with? Well, I... Well, look over here in this case. That's my own gun, a Continental 600. That shoots a pair of Nitro Express cartridges the size of bananas. It's designed for knocking down elephants, not just wounding them, but knocking them base over apex. Well, now I've handled guns. Look, I've been guiding hunting parties for over 20 years, but I've never known a man your size who could handle a 600. It knocks him over. People have killed elephant with lighter guns, even the 375. Ah, yes, but consider an elephant weighs, well, let's say from four to six tonne. You're planning to shoot reptiles weighing two to three times as much as an elephant. I tell you, Mr. Seligman, I won't take anybody hunting dinosaur who can't handle a 600. Look, let's pour another drink and I'll tell you why. You see, I went into the partnership with the Raja about five years ago. I call him that because he's the hereditary monarch of Janpur. It means nothing, of course. We both wanted to do a bit of hunting again, and Africa's all played out. It's too civilised now. So when we heard of Professor Prohaska's time machine at Washington University, we caught the next plane to St. Louis. The Foundation administering the machine had worked out an arrangement of splitting the time between scientific parties and hunters who wanted to try their luck at prehistoric game. Hunters played through the nose, of course, to support the project. Well, it was about our fifth safari that Courtney James showed up. He's what you chaps call a playboy, a big bloke, handsome in a way, florid, beginning to turn to fat. He was on his fourth wife, and when he showed up at the office with a blonde, I was the first to see him. He was a very handsome man, and when he showed up with a blonde, I assumed that this was the fourth Mrs. James. And he left her in the outer office and corrected my assumption. Bunny? Oh no, she's not my wife. My wife is in Mexico, I think, getting a divorce. But Bunny here would like to go along. I'm sorry. We don't take ladies, not to the late Mesozoic. If she wants to go, she'll go. She skis and flies my aeroplane, so why shouldn't she? There are enough risks at 85 million B.C. without adding to them. I'm sorry, but it's not my firm's policy. Now look here, I'm paying you a lot of money. I'm entitled... You can't hire me to do anything against my best judgment. Now if that's how you feel, get another guide. All right, all right. But let me tell you. Oh, it ended with my telling him to get out of the office or I'd throw him out. And I was thinking sadly of all that lovely money that James would have paid me. When in came another side, an August Holsinger, slim bald chap with glasses. Mr. Rivers, I don't want you to think I'm here under false pretenses. I'm really not much of an outdoorsman and I'll probably be scared to death when I see a real dinosaur. Well, most of us are frightened at first, but it doesn't do to speak of it. Well, you see, I've always run a grocery store until my uncle died and, uh, well, I've got a great deal of money now. I'm building a new house. I'm engaged, you know, getting married and, uh, well, I'm determined to hang a dinosaur head over my fireplace or die in the attempt. A ceratopsian, I think. That's the one with the big horned head and the frill over the neck, isn't it? Well, you want to think twice about that, you know. If you put a seven foot triceratops head into a small living room, there's apt to be no room left for anything else. I know it's ridiculous, but I'm determined to do something big for once. Since there's no more real big game hunting, I'm going to shoot a dinosaur and hang his head over my mantle. I'll never be happy otherwise. The Roger and I decided to make it to the middle Cretaceous. That's about, uh, 85 million years ago. It's the best period for dinosaur in Missouri. So we drove Holtzinger into the country to let him try the six nought nought. It's rather heavy. Look, you look out, there's quite a kick. Couldn't you fire it properly? I'm not going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. I'm going to do it. Couldn't you fire it prone? Oh, not a gun that big. There's not enough give you'd break your shoulder. All right. Take the safety off. Like this? Take my hand. I'll help you up. All right. Thank you. I think I better try something smaller. Well, he took a fancy to my Manchester 70, chambered for a 375 Magnum cartridge. That's a little light for elephant and very definitely light for dinosaur, but we were in a hurry. And then of course, just before we were ready to trick, James showed up and apologized for insulting me. He'd had a run-in with the girl and he wanted to go along. And so we were off on safari. You all ready, gentlemen? Why, yes, I suppose so. Mr. Holsinger, you've met my partner, the Roger of Jean-Pour. How do you do, sir? How do you do? Well, shall we get cracking? After you, Mr. Holsinger. Mr. James. Thank you. Let's get going. All set. We'll slam the hatch and off we go. What happens? Nothing till the force field is built up. Ah, there she goes. What happened to the lights? Well, there's no current while we're in transition. I don't feel well. There's usually a touch of vertigo. I shouldn't worry about it. Look, what do you shoot for? I mean with dinosaur. What is the best shot? Well, you don't try for his brain, you know. They don't have any. Well, to be exact, they have a little bump about the size of a tennis ball on the top of their spines and you're not likely to hit it when it's embedded in a six-foot skull. No, try for the heart. They have big hearts, over a hundred pounds. An exploding shell in the heart will slow them down, at least. Oh, oh, I see. Why do we have to go so far for a game? Why couldn't we just go back 50 years and shoot lions in Africa? Well, the machine won't work more recently than a hundred thousand years ago. Why? Well, look, I'm no four-dimensional expert on the subject, but it has something to do with what they call time paradox. You know, if people could go back to recent times, they might do something to affect history or kill their own grandfather, you know. And there's also some kind of taboo about sending people back to the same time again. Paradoxes. Mustn't have them. What would happen? I'm not sure, but the university isn't taking chances. They've got about a billion years to cover. They won't run out of errors. Hello? Here we go. Oh, cheers, eh? Well, that's done it. April 24th, 85 million years BC. Now then, careful. Keep the safety on your gun and don't shoot unless I give the word. Why? Why should we have to wait for you? Because I'm responsible for everything you do, especially if something goes wrong. I say, Roger, open the door, will you? In this period, the time chamber materializes on top of a rocky rise. At the west, you see the arm of the Kansas Sea that reaches across Missouri and the big swamp where the sauropods live. To the east, the land slopes up to a plateau. It's good for serotopsians. But the finest thing about the Cretaceous is the climate. It's barmy, like the South Sea Islands, and not so muggy as the Jurassic. Oh, we sent the time chamber back off and looked about. It was spring, with the dwarf magnolias in bloom all over. Down towards the Kansas Sea, cycads and willows grew, while the uplands were covered with screw pins and ginkgo. Yeah, well, I'm no ruddy poet, but I can appreciate a beautiful scene. Well, I was looking through the haze and sniffing the air. I got him. I got him. What the devil? You see it? There it goes. Confound it, you idiot. I told you not to shoot without word from me. And what happened? An onythamine wandered out of the cops. Mr. James gave him both barrels. Missed. Now look here, James. One of the biggest dangers on a safari is trigger-happy cibes who get panicky. You're not to shoot unless you're told. You understand? Who do you think you are to tell me when to shoot my own game? Now look here. Firstly, if you shoot off all your ammunition before the trip is over, your gun won't be available in case of a pinch. And secondly, if you empty both barrels, what would happen if a big theropod should charge before you could reload? And finally, it's not sporting to shoot everything in sight. Is that clear? All right. All right. Well, now then, first task is fresh meat. As I told you, Holsinger wanted to sell a topsy and head. James insisted on a tyrannosaur. Then everybody would think that he'd shot the most dangerous game. The fact is, the tyrannosaur's overrated. But everybody's read about the tyrant, lizard, and well, he does have the biggest head of the theropods. Oh, and he'll snap you up if he gets the chance. No fear. Well, we started off searching for meat. The raja and I put the cibes in front. We tell them it's so that they'll get the first shot, which is true. But another reason is that they're always tripping and falling with their guns cocked. And if the guy were in front, he'd get shot. Boneheads. Where? See? Crouching over there. Feeding on those psychids. It's about the size of a man. They look intelligent. Not likely. That bulge on the head is solid bone. Now then, hold on there, James. You've had your shot for the day. You'll fire until Holzinger shoots. Yeah, sure, sure. All right, go ahead, Mr. Holzinger. Doesn't matter which one? No, here. Try that one by the rock. There's a good clear shot. Well, take your safety off. Oh. Go ahead now. Well, shh. I'm nuts. I've had enough of this. James, don't. I got him clean right through the heart. First shot. How's that? I thought you were going to give Holzinger the first crack. It's his turn. Well, I waited. Took so long, I thought he'd gotten buck fever. Very well. But if this sort of thing happens once more, we leave you at camp the next time we go out. The next couple of days, we trekked around the neighborhood and then headed over to the Sauropod Swamp over to the west. We were staked out along the edge of the lake, watching a big beggar out in the swamp waving his head about. And they're the big ones. It looks something like the brontosaur. Can't we shoot him? I wouldn't. Why not? Well, there's no point to it and it's not sporting. Look, if you kill one in the water, he sinks and can't be recovered. And if you kill one on land, well, the only trophy is that little head on the top of that long neck. You can't bring that whole beast back because he weighs 30 tons or more. That museum in New York, I thought... Oh, yes. Well, they sent a party of 48 to the early Cretaceous with a 50 caliber machine gun. They spent two solid months hacking and sawing the carcass apart and hauling it to the time machine. I know the chap on the project and he still has nightmares in which he smells decomposed dinosaur. And they also had to kill a dozen big sauropods who came in for the party. And then they had them lying around too. They lost three men. Reggie, duckbill. Where are they? Up there at the shoreline. Now keep your voices down. You see, with a crest on the back of their heads. Mr. Rivers, I've been thinking over what you said about those heads. If I could get one of those duckbills, I'd be satisfied. It'd look big enough for my mantle. I'm sure of it, old boy. Well, let's be off. Roger, you wait here with Mr. James. Shouldn't take us long. Holt and I crept along the shoreline, narrowing the range to the duckbills. I think I can make the shot from here. I'll be ready in a minute. My shoe is loose. He's getting away. I won't get a shot. I'm afraid Mr. James has fired both barrels again. James, that's the second time you spoiled my shots. I ought to... Don't be a fool. I couldn't let them wander into camp stamping everything flat. There was no danger to that. You can see that the water is deep offshore. It's just that our trigger to happy Mr. James can't see any animal without shooting. And if it did get close, all you have to do is to throw a stick of firewood at it. They're perfectly harmless. Well, how was I to know? I believe I mentioned it. Well, what are we on this miserable trip for except to shoot things? There are certain rules, you know. You call yourselves hunters. I'm the only one who's hitting anything. Now, just a moment, old man. You're behaving like a confounded skite with more money than brains. I should never have brought you along. That's how you feel. Give me some food and I'll go back to the base by myself. Now, don't be a bigger ass than you can help. That's quite impossible. All right, I'll go alone. I wouldn't want to pollute your air with my presence. Yeah, that's an attractive Fort Reggie, but we can't let him go. He'll get lost or starve. All right, I'll go after him. We stumbled along for several more days, James on his good behavior for a change. And on the 1st of May, we broke camp and headed north to the hills. That was hot and sticky. And we were soon panting and sweating like horses. When I picked up the smell of carrion and heard the thrumming of the flies, we found a huge ceratopsian lying dead in a little hollow on the edge of the cups. He must have weighed six or eight tons alive. Why couldn't I have gotten him before he died? That would have made a darn fine head. On your toes, chaps. The sauropod that's been at this carcass is probably nearby. How do you know? We see how the hides been ripped off and the bones are scattered. Sauropods will hang around a carcass like this for weeks, gorging and then sleeping their meals off for days at a time. What do we do? Well, that's what we came after. Roger, you take Mr. James through that way and we'll parallel you 40 feet distant. Now keep your eyes open. It'll be hard to see in these woods unless you're right on top of him. We pushed through the edge of the cups, looking for the huge flesh eater who'd been at the carcass. I could hear James and the roger pushing ahead on my right. We were separated by a gully when I heard a noise ahead on our left. What is it? I don't know. Take the safety off your gun. Oh, there it is. It's one of those boneheads. Oh, well, they're not dangerous at any rate, but be careful. That sauropod might still be around. I've got him. Got him clean. Well, he's done it again. He shot the bonehead. I've got him. Look out! Look out! Tyrannosaur! The tyrannosaur heaved his head out of a shrubbery just in front of us. The scientists can insist that Rex is bigger than triomkes, but I'll swear that this tyrannosaur was bigger than any Rex ever hatched. It must have stood 20 feet high and been 50 feet long. I could see its big bright eye and six-inch teeth. He'd been sleeping off his last meal, and James fired off both barrels over his head at the bonehead and woke the tyrannosaur up. Get back! Get back, you fool! Gun's empty and Roger can't get a shot. Found it. There goes the beast in behind those ferns. Holzinger! Holzinger! Come back! Your gun's too light for that beggar! James came bolting back in a panic and blundered into the Roger, sending both of them sprawling under the ferns. The tyrannosaur came after them to snap them up. Holzinger began to blaze away. He got off three shots through the beast's body with that little light gun. The tyrannosaur whirled around to see what was stinging it. The jaws came open and the head swung around and down again. Holzinger got off one more shot and tried to leap to one side. The tyrannosaur continued its lunge and caught him in its jaws as he fell. Reggie! Reggie! Stand clear! Hart! Hart's the only chance! It's no use! There he goes! Try a long shot! Ah, no. I missed him. Ah, no. I missed him clean. Poor Holzinger. Well, that's the end. He stopped screaming. Did you notice? Oh, yes. Well, I expect we best track the beast. He might be dying. We should try to recover Holzinger's remains. Yes, there's nothing else to do. No, nothing. The bad show all around. An hour later, we gave up and went back to the glade looking very dismal. Where have you two been? We were occupied. The late Mr. Holzinger. Remember? You shouldn't have gone off and left me. None of those things might have come along. Isn't it bad enough to lose one hunter through your stupidity? What? Sure, you put us in front of you so if anybody gets eaten, it's one of us. That's... You stinking little swine. If you hadn't been a first-class idiot and blown those two barrels again, this never would have happened. Holzinger died trying to save your worthless life. And I wish he'd failed. Why, I ought to... Now then, my levy buck, I'm glad you did that. It gives me a chance I've been waiting for. Now get up and I'll be glad to finish off. You won't finish anybody off. All right, put your hands up. Both of you. Put that gun away. Don't be an idiot. I won't let anybody do that to me. You can't get away with murder. Why not? There won't be much left to you after you're hit with a 600 explosive shell. Nobody could prove anything. They can't hold you for a murder 85 million years old. The statute of limitations, you know. Nice work, Roger, old chap. Yes. Cretaceous rock. Doesn't quite have the balance of a cricket ball, but it's a bit harder. What? Well, suppose we tie this chap up and take him back to camp. When the time transition chamber finally arrived, we fell over one another getting into it. We dumped James in a corner and threw the switches. You two should have killed me back there. Why? You don't have a particularly good head. You wouldn't look at all well over a mantle. You can laugh, but I'll get you someday. A close quarter, isn't it? Someday I'll find a way. I'll find a way and I'll get off scot-free too. My dear chap, if there was some way to do it, I'd have you charged with Holzinger's murder. Look, you'd best let well enough alone. No, no, I'll kill you. Both of you. Somehow. Oh, cigarette, Roger. Thanks. When we came out in the present, we handed him his empty gun and off he went. We paid everybody off, found that we were broke. But quite luckily, a steel manufacturer turned up who wanted a mastodon head for his den. Well, we were standing in the laboratory at the university waiting for the time chamber. The technician, he's a bookish chap, a theoretical temporal physicist, was watching his dials and scopes. Oh, by the way, Mr. Rivers, you just missed him. Missed who? That last client of yours, Mr. James. Well, that's good luck. What was he doing here? Oh, he told me quite a tale, said he'd lost his wallet back there. Said it contained some very valuable papers. Ah, must have been valuable. Paid the university fee of $5,000 for the use of the chamber. He's on his way back there now. Back where? Well, he told me to send him back a few minutes before you arrived the last time. Then he could see himself drop the wallet. Oh, he's going to stand there and watch himself come out? Yeah, but doesn't that create what you chaps call a paradox? Paradox? What happens when a man tries to occupy the same time twice? No, we don't know. It's never been tried before. We tried to warn him, but he insisted. Yes, I know. He's a headstrong chap. Still, you wouldn't think he'd chance it just for the sake of a wallet. Was he armed? Yes. He had a 375 Express. 375? That's odd. He knows it's too light for dinosaurs. Yes, but not too light for a man. I say, Roger, you don't think Mr. James is lurking behind a bush back there until we show up again? And planning to pot us as we step out? That's impossible. We already did step out of the chamber and nothing happened. Yeah, but that was before Mr. James was waiting with an Express rifle cocked. Hey, Doctor? You mean he's planning to murder the two of you? I wouldn't be a bit surprised. I... I don't suppose there's anything you could do to stop the process now. No, it's too late. The chamber's in transition now. Look, hadn't you better get out of here before he kills you? Well, there's no point in running. If Mr. James' theory is right, we've both been dead for 85 million years. We might as well wait and see what happens. Transition point coming up. Well, it's been quite a world up to this point. Hey, Roger? Yes, quite. Here it goes. Here it goes. Reggie, are you all right? Well, I seem to be. What happened? The time chamber. It's back. We'd better get it open. Good Lord, look at that. Caskley, isn't it? Where did it come from? I'm not sure. They rather think it came from the Middle Cretaceous era. Wasn't here a moment ago. Caskley mess. Looks as if every bone was pulverized and every blood vessel burst. I dare say. But that's his gun, all right. It's James', there's no doubt of it. So that's the story, Mr. Silligman. Of course, I don't understand the mathematics, but the idea is rather easy to grasp. Nobody had shot us when we first emerged on the 24th of April, 85 million B.C. So, of course, that couldn't be changed. The instant James started to do anything that would make a paradox the world would be in chaos. The instant James started to do anything that would make a paradox the space-time forces snapped him forward and ripped him to bits. Well, they know a good deal about that now, and there's a safety margin of 500 years between each trip. You can't have paradoxes, you know. It just isn't done. And you see, I'm a lot more careful now. I shouldn't have taken James when I knew what a spoiled, unstable sword he was. Or a whole singer either, when I saw that he was too small to shoot a dinosaur gun. With a heavier gun, he'd probably have knocked the tyrannosaur down and saved his own life. So, Mr. Silligman, that's why I won't take you to that period to hunt. I'm sorry, but you're just too light. You're not big enough to handle a gun for dinosaur. You have just heard X-1, presented by the National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine, which this month features the story of a man who develops a spaceship that travels so fast that its pilots vanish mysteriously into thin air. Read the Vaughan Shelton story, Point of Departure, in Galaxy Magazine, on your newsstand now. Tonight by transcription, X-1 has brought you A Gun for Dinosaur, a story from the pages of Galaxy written by L. Sprague De Camp, patent consultant and one of our leading authors of science fiction. It was adapted for radio by Ernest Canoie. Featured in the cast were Alastair Duncan, Wendell Holmes, John Gibson, Donald Buca, Warren Parker, and Alan Hewitt. Your announcer, Fred Collins. X-1 was directed by Daniel Sutter and is an NBC Radio Network production. Let's visit lovable Fiverr McGee and Molly tonight on the NBC Radio Network.
