THE CUSTOMS LOUNGE

BY E. A. PROULX

Anything can happen in the
customs lounge—since they
let those Earth people in!

[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1963.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


There were usually a few Customs Inspectors in the lounge, waitingto begin their shifts, hanging around trading news and incidents anddrinking the bad, lukewarm kasser that was a standing joke in theImmigration-Customs Service.

Old Grag was telling for perhaps the eightieth time of a success of hiswhen he was young in the Service.

"... They had this small box of sticky, squashy sweets with them. Theyoung one was eating one. Many another Inspector would have passed themthrough, but I thought the young one chewed too much and too loud. So Isaid, 'Mind if I have one?'

"'Wah!' says they together, 'it would set you on edge, Noble WiseInspector. It is the taste of another world.' They was Venusers, andthey started shifting and hopping around, and humming their nationalanthem, you know how they used to do back in the old days. I madequite a nice little find. Almost a half-scree of chamfer in each oneof those sweets. I got a promotion out of that, and the Venusers got asix-year close out."

Inspector Flimp blew one of his noses loudly.

"Hee, that's nothing. I recall back when we first opened up forImmigration, and a whole shipload of earthers came in. They werecrammed in like tigs in a nest, and as usual they didn't know one wordof the language, they didn't have any idea of where to go or how to doanything, and they'd got separated from their controller. They juststood around, huddled together and jabbering at each other. Well, Ichecked out about twenty of them, and then there comes up this big uglyfemale. Well, I jacks the elevator up some more, and I looks down ather.

"'Name!', I call. 'Gladdis Cracklegill,' or some other weird earth nameshe screams at me. 'Too much name,' I say. 'You've got enough namethere for five of you. Which will you choose, Glad, Is, Crack, El orGil?'

"Well, it took me a while to make her understand me—my earth accentwasn't too good then, and she was slow-headed, having only one, likeall earthers. But I finally made her understand what I wanted to know,and then, by Clag, what a ramping frowst she did make!

"It was while she was screeching at me that I noticed her teeth werepretty big, even for such a huge beast as she was. So I secretly turnedon the Dento-Spyer, right into her jaws, and what a sight on the viewscreen! Each of those big teeth was false and filled to the top withEarth seeds she was trying to smuggle!"

"Earthers!" exploded young Nask. "They make me sick!"

"I'm with you, Nask," said Inspector Sprim. "And I don't understand whythey still keep routing earthers through Immigration anyway. Theyclaim they're a borderline case, but when you've seen as many as Ihave, you know, which side of the border they're on."


Nask went off to the kasser dispenser and his place was taken by Brif,the head Inspector, who had been listening.

"Un-edge yourself, Sprim," smiled Brif, contracting one of his heads."I have good news, rare news and fine news. The Four Council decisionjust came down to us. Earthers are now to be routed through Livestockinstead of Immigration beginning very soon."

A cheer went up from the little group of Customs and Immigrationoff

...

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