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  Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net

  Transcriber's Note:

  This etext was produced from _The Counterfeit Man More Science Fiction Stories by Alan E. Nourse_ published in 1963. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.

  Circus

  "Just suppose," said Morgan, "that I _did_ believe you. Just forargument." He glanced up at the man across the restaurant table. "Wherewould we go from here?"

  The man shifted uneasily in his seat. He was silent, staring down at hisplate. Not a strange-looking man, Morgan thought. Rather ordinary, infact. A plain face, nose a little too long, fingers a little too dainty,a suit that doesn't quite seem to fit, but all in all, a perfectlyordinary looking man.

  Maybe _too_ ordinary, Morgan thought.

  Finally the man looked up. His eyes were dark, with a hunted look intheir depths that chilled Morgan a little. "Where do we go? I don'tknow. I've tried to think it out, and I get nowhere. But you've _got_ tobelieve me, Morgan. I'm lost, I mean it. If I can't get help, I don'tknow where it's going to end."

  "I'll tell you where it's going to end," said Morgan. "It's going to endin a hospital. A mental hospital. They'll lock you up and they'll losethe key somewhere." He poured himself another cup of coffee and sippedit, scalding hot. "And that," he added, "will be that."

  * * * * *

  The place was dark and almost empty. Overhead, a rotary fan swishedpatiently. The man across from Morgan ran a hand through his dark hair."There must be some other way," he said. "There has to be."

  "All right, let's start from the beginning again," Morgan said. "Maybewe can pin something down a little better. You say your name isParks--right?"

  The man nodded. "Jefferson Haldeman Parks, if that helps any. Haldemanwas my mother's maiden name."

  "All right. And you got into town on Friday--right?"

  Parks nodded.

  "Fine. Now go through the whole story again. What happened first?"

  The man thought for a minute. "As I said, first there was a fall. Abouttwenty feet. I didn't break any bones, but I was shaken up and limping.The fall was near the highway going to the George Washington Bridge. Igot over to the highway and tried to flag down a ride."

  "How did you feel? I mean, was there anything strange that you noticed?"

  "_Strange!_" Parks' eyes widened. "I--I was speechless. At first Ihadn't noticed too much--I was concerned with the fall, and whether Iwas hurt or not. I didn't really think about much else until I hobbledup to that highway and saw those cars coming. Then I could hardlybelieve my eyes. I thought I was crazy. But a car stopped and asked meif I was going into the city, and I knew I wasn't crazy."

  Morgan's mouth took a grim line. "You understood the language?"

  "Oh, yes. I don't see how I could have, but I did. We talked all the wayinto New York--nothing very important, but we understood each other. Hisspeech had an odd sound, but--"

  Morgan nodded. "I know, I noticed. What did you do when you got to NewYork?"

  "Well, obviously, I needed money. I had gold coin. There had been no wayof knowing if it would be useful, but I'd taken it on chance. I tried touse it at a newsstand first, and the man wouldn't touch it. Asked me ifI thought I was the U.S. Treasury or something. When he saw that I wasserious, he sent me to a money lender, a hock shop, I think he calledit. So I found a place--"

  "Let me see the coins."

  Parks dropped two small gold discs on the table. They were perfectlysmooth and perfectly round, tapered by wear to a thin blunt edge. Therewas no design on them, and no printing. Morgan looked up at the mansharply. "What did you get for these?"

  Parks shrugged. "Too little, I suspect. Two dollars for the small one,five for the larger."

  "You should have gone to a bank."

  "I know that now. I didn't then. Naturally, I assumed that witheverything else so similar, principles of business would also besimilar."

  Morgan sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Well, then what?"

  Parks poured some more coffee. His face was very pale, Morgan thought,and his hands trembled as he raised the cup to his lips. Fright? Maybe.Hard to tell. The man put down the cup and rubbed his forehead with theback of his hand. "First, I went to the mayor's office," he said. "Ikept trying to think what anyone at home would do in my place. Thatseemed a good bet. I asked a policeman where it was, and then I wentthere."

  "But you didn't get to see him."

  "No. I saw a secretary. She said the mayor was in conference, and that Iwould have to have an appointment. She let me speak to another man, oneof the mayor's assistants."

  "And you told him?"

  "No. I wanted to see the mayor himself. I thought that was the bestthing to do. I waited for a couple of hours, until another assistantcame along and told me flatly that the mayor wouldn't see me unless Istated my business first." He drew in a deep breath. "So I stated it.And then I was gently but firmly ushered back into the street again."

  "They didn't believe you," said Morgan.

  "Not for a minute. They laughed in my face."

  Morgan nodded. "I'm beginning to get the pattern. So what did you donext?"

  "Next I tried the police. I got the same treatment there, only theyweren't so gentle. They wouldn't listen either. They muttered somethingabout cranks and their crazy notions, and when they asked me where Ilived, they thought I was--what did they call it?--a wise guy! Told meto get out and not come back with any more wild stories."

  "I see," said Morgan.

  Jefferson Parks finished his last bite of pie and pushed the plate away."By then I didn't know quite what to do. I'd been prepared for almostanything excepting this. It was frightening. I tried to rationalize it,and then I quit trying. It wasn't that I attracted attention, oranything like that, quite the contrary. Nobody even looked at me, unlessI said something to them. I began to look for things that were_different_, things that I could show them, and say, see, this provesthat I'm telling the truth, look at it--" He looked up helplessly.

  "And what did you find?"

  "Nothing. Oh, little things, insignificant little things. Yourcalendars, for instance. Naturally, I couldn't understand your frame ofreference. And the coinage, you stamp your coins; we don't. Andcigarettes. We don't have any such thing as tobacco." The man gave ashort laugh. "And your house dogs! We have little animals that look morelike rabbits than poodles. But there was nothing any more significantthan that. Absolutely nothing."

  "Except yourself," Morgan said.

  "Ah, yes. I thought that over carefully. I looked for differences,obvious ones. I couldn't find any. You can see that, just looking at me.So I searched for more subtle things. Skin texture, fingerprints, bonestructure, body proportion. I still couldn't find anything. Then I wentto a doctor."

  Morgan's eyebrows lifted. "Good," he said.

  Parks shrugged tiredly. "Not really. He examined me. He practically tookme apart. I carefully refrained from saying anything about who I was orwhere I came from; just said I wanted a complete physical examination,and let him go to it. He was thorough, and when he finished he patted meon the back and said, 'Parks, you've got nothing to worry about. You'reas fine, strapping a specimen of a healthy human being as I've everseen.' And that was that." Parks laughed bitterly. "I guess I wassupposed to be happy with the verdict, and instead I was ready to knockhim down. It was idiotic, it defied reason, it was infuriating."

  Morgan nodded sourly. "Because you're not a human being," he said.

  "That's right. I'm not a human being at all."

  * * * * *

&
nbsp; "How did you happen to pick this planet, or this sun?" Morgan askedcuriously. "There must have been a million others to choose from."

  Parks unbuttoned his collar and rubbed his stubbled chin unhappily. "Ididn't make the choice. Neither did anyone else. Travel by warp is alittle different from travel by the rocket you fiction writers make somuch of. With a rocket vehicle you pick your destination, make yourcalculations, and off you go. The warp is blind flying, strictly blind.We