In just a moment, X minus one. But first, an important subject in these days of snow and blizzard is how to fight the common cold. And tomorrow, NBC's weekday deals with this problem in a special feature by Dr. Leona Baumgartner, New York City Health Commissioner. Yes, it's NBC's weekday to keep you up to date in every field, from health to housekeeping, from politics to pots and pans. And there's also the best variety entertainment on weekday, tomorrow headed by Metropolitan Opera star Robert Merrow. Listen every Monday through Friday to NBC's weekday. And now stay tuned for X minus one. 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. Tonight's story, A Thousand Dollars a Plate by Jack McEntee. Ferris ship from Dima Space Station carrying cargo and passengers from Earth now arriving in blasting pit six. Radiation clearance and quarantine officers report to passenger conveyor. Mars Airways to New Chicago, Port Kelly, Mars Port, Mars Port Park, New Amityville and Nova Massapequa take off in 15 minutes. All aboard. Excuse me, sir. Could you help me? Sure, buddy. What'll it be? Cards, dice, a little shot of distilled hackaberry? No, I just wondered if you could direct me to... Brother, you came to the right man. I can direct you anywhere you want to go. That's what I'm here for. You just get off the ferry? Yes, I came on the Phobos Queen. Yeah, yeah. You know, you can spy them in my business. All right, what'll it be now? Well, I want to know how I can get to the observatory. The what? The Mars Observatory. You know, the Astronomical Research Center. What do you want to go there for? I work there. Or at least I will. No kidding. You're one of them double dome star gazers, huh? Yes. I'm an astronomer. Yeah. I heard there was a lot of you guys out there under glass, but I don't get out of town much. I got to keep my hand in, you know. Are you sure you wouldn't like a little flutter before you settle down in your rut? No, no. I never play cards. Occasionally a little chess. I don't know if they got any chess in any of the casinos, but if you want, I could arrange it. You know, play against the house. Five bucks apiece for the kitty and a C note for checkmate. No, thank you. Can you direct me to the observatory? You'll have to get a sand hack. No other regular buses go by there. They just hit the casinos on a strip. Hey, I'll tell you what. The next ferry won't clear for another half hour. I'll walk you over to the hack stand. Well, thank you. That's very kind of you, Mr. Just call me Pusher. It's on account of my occupation, you know. Oh, I see. I'm Enright C. Bensinger. Dr. Bensinger. Well, it's a pleasure, Doc. Right this way. Well, this isn't exactly what I expected. Your first trip to Mars, huh? Yes, it is. Well, you'll get used to it. Out this way. Adjust your gills. Gills? Sure. What do you think you're going to breathe outside that door? There isn't enough oxygen on Mars to keep a mouse alive. They gave you a standard issue when you got off the ferry. It's in that bag. Oh, yes, I'm afraid I was reading when they explained it, the quarterly journal from the Harvard Observatory, you know. Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. I never miss a copy. Now, look, you put the nose clip in, see, and crack the valve. This way it compresses enough air to keep you going. Okay? All right, let's go. Hmm. Cold. Sure, it's cold. Sand hacks are right up the street there. Beautiful. Beautiful. All the colors in the sky. I am surprised, though, in an atmosphere this thin, the sunset shouldn't be as spectacular. That ain't the sunset, Chief. That's the new sign on top of the Canal Casino, right there behind you, see? Hmm. Fun. Fun. Fun. Yeah, but if you want a square shake with the dice, you go to Harry Harvey's place, the Red Sands Hotel. I suppose the seeing is excellent, you're telling me. You know, he's got a line of girls like you never see nowhere else. Oh, I'm afraid I meant astronomical seeing. The telescopes, you know. Hey, you got an idea there. Telescopes. What's that? Nothing. Fireworks. It's a Marzegraut. Dope on? Marzegraut. You know, big party all over town. Parades, costumes, liquor, fireworks, gambling. You know, big celebration. But what's the occasion? An eclipse of the two moons. Oh, but that occurs very frequently. Oh, sure. You'd be surprised how much a Marzegraut ups the take on the strip. Well, here the sand hacks, and look, don't let them hackies charge you more than 15 bucks for the trip. Just tell them you know me. Just tell them Pusher sent you. Gentlemen, I want you all to meet Dr. Benzinger, our new colleague. These are Drs. Fitz, Spiegel, Ortney, and Klein. I am sorry to introduce you to our team at such a critical moment, but our situation is rather desperate. I'm afraid I don't understand. Spiegel, show Dr. Benzinger your plate. Here, just look at this. Just look. It took me eight weeks working with a computer to plot this plate, and look. Look! Well, it seems fogged. These streaks, I don't believe I've ever seen them on an astronomical photograph before. What are they? Skyrockets, that's what they are. Skyrockets. Morton, I tell you that they fired them in our direction on purpose. All right, all right. Calm down, Spiegel. Calm down? Do you realize that it will be 12 years before this particular conjunction can be photographed again? Morton, you've got to do something. Couldn't you write a little note to the Chamber of Commerce and ask them to eliminate the fireworks? We've written a note every time a small boy lets off a Roman candle, and it was no use. I tell you they fire them this way on purpose. I'm afraid that's true. The other directions around town are either oil refineries or homes of the casino owners. I don't suppose there's any chance of moving the observatory then out into the desert. My dear Dr. Benziger, we'd have to bring in crews to tear it down, other crews to move it and set it up, not to mention breakage and replacement, which would involve more freight from Earth at $7.97 per pound, dead weight. As it is, the immense costs add up to a staggering total. Do you know what a single photographic plate costs us, counting overhead? $1,000. Well, then what is the answer? Another letter to the town council, I suppose. Let me write it this time, Dr. Morton. My grandmother used to have several rather picturesque phrases, which I believe I could translate. No, no, no, no, Spiegel. Dignity, dignity, remember? We are an adjunct of Harvard University. Dr. Spiegel, I shall ask you and Dr. Benziger to accompany me in person to the town council. Surely they cannot turn down a rational request in the interest of science? Well, gentlemen, the town council appreciates the problem. Yes, I felt certain it would. Naturally, you are aware of the importance of astronomical research, Mr. Harvey. Well, I can see your point, Doc. You sit out there in your little glass hut, pointing your brownie camera up at the stars, snapping away. But you've got to look at our point of view. Oh? Now you take my place. Harvey's red sands. I've got a heavy investment. Fourteen crap tables, a half a dozen roulette wheels, and the rest of the overhead. I've got to keep them wheels running. It's the Marzigerra that drags the suckers in. But really, Mr. Harvey, we were just asking you to curtail the pyrotechnic display. Now wait just a minute. I'm as clean-living as the next guy. Oh, Dr. Benzinger, means the fireworks. Oh. Well, I'd like to help you out, boys, but I look at it this way. Those stars you're looking at are going to be up there for a couple of thousand years. But a sucker is different. You've got to grab him while he's still healthy. But in the interest of science, surely the town council can't agree with you? Doc, the town council is made up of Joe Rocco, Pete Carney, Alex the Armenian, and me. We own the four biggest houses in town. So go ahead, fellas. Take all them snapshots you want to. If you happen to lower your telescope, get a couple of good ones through a window at the Grand Canal Hotel. I'll take a couple of 8x10 enlargements. I'll see you around, Doc. Well, I'm afraid the town council was no help. They just remain insensible to reason. Well, I'm afraid the only thing those gentlemen understand is money. My dear Dr. Benzinger, the smallest bet allowed in Mr. Harvey's establishment is approximately the same as your monthly salary. Oh. Dr. Morton, suppose the gambling operators were suddenly to lose a great deal of money. They never do. Of course, with the ordinary laymen playing against them. But suppose the best scientific brains were to concentrate on a simple matter like the probabilities of a given roulette wheel or the combinations and permutations applicable to a game of poker. We could put the main computer on it. Doctor, are you seriously suggesting... Well, I think he's got a point. If we could give those casinos a shellacking, they might stop the fireworks just to get rid of us. Now, let me get this straight, Doc. All you eggheads up there made up a kiddie to get into a crap game? Well, that's right. I thought you might direct me to the largest establishment, Mr. Harvey's place, I believe. Now, look, Doc, come over here. Now, over here in the corner. Now, look, I'm a pusher, see. My job is to take these tourists by the lapel and shove them in front of a dice table quick before they spend any of their lettuce foolishly on food and lodging. But these rubes, they come here expecting to get took. They don't miss it, you understand? It's all part of a good time. But you guys out there running your Harvard peek-a-boo racket, you're different. Now, what do you want to get mixed up in this for? You take your peanuts home and shove it in a piggy bank, save up and buy yourself a new telescope or something. I appreciate your solicitude, Mr. Pusher, but I'm quite determined. Which way is Mr. Harvey's place? Well, if you've made up your mind, the bus leaves from right over there in about 15 minutes. Get a round-trip ticket, because Mr. Harvey don't want no suckers stuck without they got car fare away from his place. I shouldn't worry about that. Frankly, I expect to leave Mr. Harvey flat broke. I'll see you just before dawn. I don't understand it. I just don't understand it. But what happened? Luckily, a certain Mr. Pusher was generous enough to lend me $15 for a sand hack. Otherwise, I would have had to walk. Well, that was rather decent of him. Well, not exactly. He said he gets a percentage when he pulls in a ripe chump. You mean it's all gone? Every dollar. I just can't understand it. I kept careful notes. I followed the formula that was worked out by the computer. I calculated the odds by slide rule, carrying them to the fourth and fifth decimal place. I just can't understand it. Mr. Pusher said that I had a frigid digit. A what? A cold finger. I gather that's the opposite of a hot hand. But according to the games theory as outlined in the last International Congress of Theoretical Mathematics... Unfortunately, at the last Mathematical Congress, they weren't trying to make a four the hard way. There they go again. Sky rockets. I was hoping to get at least three plates in before they started. And the crushing blow occurred when Mr. Pusher offered to sell me my horoscope. No. Yes. He said anyone was a fool to get into a dice game if the stars weren't right. Now there's an example of what we're up against. Medieval superstition existing side by side with hydrazine rockets and nuclear space drives. Shocking! I'm not so sure. Might be a good idea. Dr. Morton sent for the staff psychiatrist. Benzinger has scratched his reflector. No, no, gentlemen. Pusher was right. Every man who's going to gamble should have a horoscope. It's very important to know what the stars say. What are you talking about? And where on Mars is the place best equipped to tell you what the stars say? Oh, no. Dr. Benzinger! I tell you, it may be a stroke of genius. Hello? Is this the advertising office? This is Dr. Benzinger. I should like to place an ad. No. No, there will be no pretty girl. Just this. Free, free. For the first time ever, your horoscope scientifically cast by the staff of the famous Mars Observatory. Learn your luck, your future. Write or call Mars Observatory. No charge, no obligation. Yes, thank you. I'd like to run that every day until further notice. Pusher. Yeah, Mr. Harvey. Did you do like I said? Yes, sir. I went out to the observatory just like you told me. You know, I had to share the sand hack with five other guys. I understand the bus company's putting a route out there. A big crowd, huh? Sure, Mr. Harvey. You know, them horoscopes they're giving there, the only thing on Mars that don't cost the tourists any more. All right, all right. What happened? Well, when I got out there, it was this Doc Benzinger. You see, all dressed up in a dunce cap with stars on it or something, in a big robe. They showed us all around the place. You never saw telescopes as big as that. All right, all right. Skip the travel odds. All right. Well, finally they took my name and my birth date, my color size, and they run it through this computer. You should have seen that thing. Lights and bells. I'm telling you, it looked like the biggest pinball machine you ever saw. I kept waiting for it to tilt. The horoscopes, the horoscopes. Yeah, well, they give it to me finally. I mean, the first couple of pages is the ordinary bushwhore about the sun and the moon and the stars, but on a fourth page, that's the kicker. What did it say? Well, it said that I'd be real lucky at most of the gambling places, but I'd lose my shirt at... Boss, you're not going to like this. Go ahead, go ahead, go ahead. I'd lose my shirt if I played at Harry Harvey's place. Pretty shrewd. You know, for a bunch of scientists, they're pretty smart. That isn't going to work. Who in his right mind is going to pay attention to a lot of hooey like that? Sure, Mr. Harvey. Can I go now? What's your hurry? Well, I'm going over to Purple Flamingo to play a little poker. I mean, after all, they say I'll be lucky any place but here. I mean, you can't argue with science. Gentlemen, I think we're on our way. I checked Mr. Harvey's establishment. You could shoot an elk in the gambling room. Empty? There was nobody playing but an elderly masochist who likes to lose. Dr. Morton, we have a visitor. Bansinger, I have asked you please to take off that confounded astrologist hat when you come into my office. It embarrasses me. Oh, I'm sorry. But, Doctor, allow me to present Mr. Harry Harvey. Hiya. How's business, Mr. Harvey? Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well, look, gentlemen, let's put our cards on the table. You put a hole in my pocket like I haven't had since I once ran into an honest police lieutenant in Cincinnati. I presume you've come about our horoscopes. Yeah, yeah, yeah. Let's shoot or get off the fire line. How much? I beg your pardon? How much will you take the layoff? Mr. Harvey, just a promise. What? You're on the town council, Mr. Harvey. Now, the next time the question of tourist entertainment is discussed, we want you to vote against any fireworks display. Well, sure. That's no problem. But, look, I'm only one vote. Oh, don't worry, Mr. Harvey. Every one of the casino owners on the council will have his turn to be mentioned in the stars. Yeah. You're going to knock us all one by one like a flight of ducks? Well, that's the general idea. I got a hand at it. I got to take off my hat, sir. Mr. Harvey, we're desperate. We cannot afford to let valuable and irreplaceable photographic plates be spoiled by fireworks. Okay, you win. But listen, here's five bills. Five hundred dollars? But we couldn't take it, Mr. Harvey. I've already explained. It's not for me. I want you to take a full page ad and do the purple flamingo in your next horoscope. I'd like to see Joe Rockwell's face when he gets a load of it. All right, Mr. Harvey. We'd be glad to take him next. Oh, and one more thing before I go. Can I look through the telescope? I never looked through one before. Well, that's the last of them. The red sands, Frank Land's Paradise, the Martian Gardens, the Two Moons Club, and the purple flamingo. Dr. Morton, we've got them all. There will be a meeting of the town council a week from now, and after that? No more fireworks. All those beautiful stars and nebulae are not a misbegotten skyrocket to stand between us. Oh, it's beautiful. Gentlemen, I have some news for you. You have? I am in receipt of an interplanetary radiogram from our parent organization, the Harvard Observatory. Are they going to send the new mass spectroscope? Please, please. Morton, Earth newspapers carrying accounts of horoscopes published by your organization. Very unscientific. Harvard Board of Overseers aghast. Must stop at once. Find other solution. Sign L.K. Bell, Director. Well, I thought Thursday was the regular day for personal message delivery. It is. Oh, Mr. Harvey. I asked Mr. Harvey to wait in the washroom. He brought the message down. Oh, sure. All of us have contacts in the radio office. We can get a hold of messages a couple of days before they clear. Did you come down to gloat over our misfortune, Mr. Harvey? No, no, no. You've got my promise to help you boys, and I'll stick by you. But the rest of them, well, it's tough, fellas, but business is business. I'm afraid the fireworks will go on as usual. Thank you, Mr. Harvey. Look, what would happen if you brought all the boys out here, showed them around, and then you could offer to name a star after them or something? I'd sure like to be able to point in the sky and say, that's Harvey's star. Well, Mr. Harvey, I'm afraid any stars worth looking at with the naked eye already have names. Besides, Harvard Observatory wouldn't stand for this idea either. It would make as much sense to them as you naming a poker chip after me. But, Dr. Morton, we've got to think of something. We tried rigging up a photoelectric cell. It closes the shutter when a rocket goes up, but it cuts the exposure time too much. But if we can't get these plates, we may not be able to duplicate them for years. Why, right now, they're preparing the first trip to a newly discovered planet. And the work of the observatory is necessary to ensure the success of that trip. Surely your colleagues will realize that, Mr. Harvey. The future of the human race is at stake. Doc, the only race those jokers are interested in takes place at Tropical Park. Look out there. They're starting the fireworks. All of them heading this way again. No, no, no. It's nothing personal. It's just that if we point them any other way, they're likely to splash people. Or maybe set something on fire. You mean, if the rockets misfired and get the tourists all wet, there would be trouble? Oh, sure. You couldn't have that. A guy with wet pants ain't going to stand around no crap table for hours. Mr. Harvey, do you really want to help us? Well, sure. I promised, didn't I? Dr. Spiegel, do you think the research library would have any material on pyrotechnics? Bensinger, what do you have in mind? Well, Dr. Morton, I was thinking of fighting fire with fireworks. Careful with that match, Harvey. Oh, don't worry. With the oxygen around here, you need a blow torch lighter, cigarette. Have you got the rockets ready, Dr. Bensinger? Well, here they are in the launching racks. I've got all my instruments, compass, a clinometer, an azimuthal radioscope, and a blow torch. Well, what are we waiting for? Spiegel. He's bringing the calculated trajectories from the computer. Say, I don't know if I like this. What have they missed? Will they go off too soon or something? Oh, nonsense, Mr. Harvey. You forget. We're scientists. Here are the figures, Bensinger. We double-checked them on the master computer. All right, then. Let's go. They'll be starting the official fireworks any minute. Azimuth 360.3570. Check. Elevation 49.3740. Check. That's corrected for wind, velocity, temperature change, and magnetic eddy currents. Are you sure you guys know what you're doing with them skyrockets? Don't worry, Mr. Harvey. They're going to explode in the Grand Canal and get everybody in the Canal Casino all wet. You shouldn't object. After all, it's your competition. Coming up to zero hour, Bensinger. Light the torch. Five seconds. Four, three, two, one. Fire. There they go. Oh, interesting effect. That's a purple color. Oh, do you like it? Yes. That was my idea. Radioactive fluorides. They're up over the tower now. Hey, one of them's beginning to wobble. I can't understand that. The computer was absolutely certain. It's going over the south of town. The other one's tracking correctly on the radar. It'll hit the Canal Square. Yeah, but look, the purple one. There it goes. It hit. Looks like it's starting a fire. Hey, must have hit somebody's house. Hey, you can see it now. It's a house burning. Oh, dear, dear. There must have been a weak tube in the computer. Yeah. Some guy's going to be real sore. I can see it real clear with the glasses now. That house on top of the hill there by the gecko bush. Boy, it's burning like... Like... Mr. Harvey, what's the matter? That's my house! Dr. Bensinger, I've called you in to read a letter that I've written to Mr. Harvey. Oh, do you know his address? I believe he's staying at his gambling establishment. His house was at total loss. Yes, well, yes. This has been a very difficult letter for me to write. I... I believe the letter is academic, Dr. Morton. Mr. Harvey is outside. He is? With two very large gentlemen with bulging pockets. Oh, dear. Oh, dear. I don't know what to say. Well, well, Mr. Harvey, what a surprise. You two apes went outside. Now, Dr. Morton, about those fireworks. I want you to know I believe in direct action. I don't like fiddling around. Well, of course not. Like a time I had some trouble with a bottom dealer from Luna City. I didn't fool around. I sent him back to the moon in a cargo rocket with no air. How interesting. Now, about your problems. Sure, we apologize. Apologize? That's great. Ah! I just remembered I left a few plates in the bar. I don't go away, Doctor. You're in on this too. No, there wouldn't be room, not for two of us. What are you talking about? Well, in a cargo rocket, especially without air. What? I'm trying to tell you. The council voted against fireworks. No, as a matter of fact, I have a very bad sinus and no air would definitely... What? Oh, sure. We decided anything that could burn down an honest citizen's house was too dangerous. Very civic minded, that council. But, but, I don't understand. I kept my promise. I said I'd help you and I did. Well, I'm terribly embarrassed. We were trying to get a collection among the staff to help you pay for your loss. But I'm afraid the total assets of the observatory wouldn't reconstruct your garage. But, but, but we held a staff meeting and we decided on a more permanent kind of remembrance. Mr. Harvey, on this photograph, you see this trail, this bright trail? Oh, one of them skyrockets again. I'm sorry, Doug. It won't happen again. No, no, no. This is no skyrocket. It's a comet. It will be quite bright for several months. And we've decided to call it Harvey's Comet. Harvey's Comet? Hey, that's real nice. Harvey's Comet. Hey, Doug, you put me on top of the world. Them boys at the Canal Casino boasting about their new sign. But me, I got a comet. Harvey's Comet. Why, every sucker on Mars will see it every night. It's the best advertisement since they wrote seven down across the face of no more. Well, I'm glad that you're pleased. Well, as a matter of fact, Doug, I kind of heard about it in advance from one of your boys. You named a comet after me? Okay. I brought something for you. Here. Well, what is it? A poker chip from my place. Go ahead, read it. Harvey's Club. Dr. Morden's poker chip. Five thousand. That's dollars, Doc. Don't spend it all in one place. You have just heard X-Minus One presented by the National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine. Your announcer, Fred Collins. X-Minus One was an NBC Radio Network production.
