Transcriber's Note:
This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe Aug-Sept 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
the house from nowhere
by ... Arthur G. Stangland
New neighbors are always exciting. But the anachronisticMacDonalds offered a bit too much.
The morning paper lay unread before Philon Miller on the breakfasttable and even the prospects of steaming coffee, ham, eggs and orangejuice could not make him forget his last night's visitors.
On the closed-circuit Industrial TV screen glowed the words, FoodPreparation Center breakfast menu for July 24, 2052. No. 1, orangejuice, coffee, ham and eggs. No. 2, waffle, coffee....
Automatically he punched the button for No. 1. Oh, his visitors hadmade matters appear justifiable. The presidential election campaignwas going badly, Rakoff the chairman said, and his poll-quota for theelection had been upped from twenty-five grand to fifty.
A stainless-steel capsule popped into the transparent wall dock. Ofcourse the party quota system was taken for granted, he mused,removing the capsule, but it was an obligation you didn't welsh on.The muscle boys in the party organization saw to that. But still,fifty thousand....
Across the table John, his sixteen-year-old adopted son, stirred. "Iguess you aren't as hungry as I am, Phil."
"What? Oh, sorry." John—down here for breakfast? What was thematter? The kid sick or something? Every morning he took his meal tohis room to eat in solitude. Funny kid.
Philon removed the food capsule from the wall dock, stopping the softgushing of air in the suction tube. Setting it on the table he snappedit open and removed the individual thermocels of food.
Philon poured coffee from the thermos and absently stirred in creamand sugar. Fifty thousand....
John was well into his breakfast already. "Phil, I was down to visitthose people on the corner—you know, the house that appeared thereover-night."
"Um."
"Their name is MacDonald," John said. "And they have a son, Jimmie,just my age, and a younger girl, Jean. Gosh, you ought to see theinside of their house, Phil. Old-fashioned! At the windows they gotsomething called venetian blinds instead of our variable mirrorthermopanes. And you know what? They don't even have an FP connection.They prepare all their meals in the house!"
John's excitement finally aroused Philon's attention. "No FoodPreparation service? But that's unheard of!"
"They're sure swell people though."
"Where in the world did they come from?" Philon poured more coffee.
"Some place out West—Oregon, I think. Lived in a small town."
"How come their house appeared over-night?"
"Yeah, I asked them about that," John said. "They said their house isa prefab and it was cheaper to move it from Oregon than to buy onehere. So they moved in one night—lock, stock and barrel."
John looked at Philon with a tentative air. "A