Harlan Ellison Shatterday

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thing s metabolism. Mirren opened his eyes, blinked several times, murmured,..
Oh, that was good!
and they pried him loose.
The disgusting thing instantly rolled into a ball and went to sleep.
They immediately hustled Enoch Mirren into an elevator and dropped with him to
the deepest, most tightly secured level of the supersecret underground TimeSep
Central complex, where a debriefing interrogation cell waited to claim him. It
was 10 x10 x20 , heavily padded in black Naugahyde, and was honeycombed with
sensors and microphones. No lights.
They put him in the cell, let him stew for twelve hours, then fed him, and
began the debriefing.
Mirren, what the hell that disgusting thing?
is
The voice came from the ceiling. In the darkness Enoch Mirren belched lightly
from the quenelles of red snapper they had served him, and scooted around on
the floor where he was sitting, trying to locate the source of the annoyed
voice.
It s a terrific little person from Cissalda, he said.
Cissalda? Another voice; a woman s voice.
A planet in another star-system of that other time/universe, he replied
politely.
They call it Cissalda.
It can talk? A third voice, more studious.
Telepathically. Mind-to-mind. When we re making love.
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All right, knock it off, Mirren! the first voice said.
Enoch Mirren sat in darkness, smiling.
Then there s life in that other universe, apart from that disgusting thing,
is that right? The third voice.
Oh, sure, Enoch Mirren said, playing with his toes. He had discovered he was
naked.
How s the night life on Cissalda? asked the woman s voice, not really
seriously.
Well, there s not much activity during the week, he answered, but Saturday
nights are dynamite, I m told.
I said knock it off, Mirren!
Yes, sir.
The third voice, as if reading from a list of prepared questions, asked,
Describe time/universe Earth as fully as you can, will you do that, please?
2
I didn t see that much, to be perfectly frank with you, but it s really nice
over there.
It s warm and very bright, even when the frenzel smelches. Every nolnek
there s a vit, when the cosmish isn t drendeling. But found...
I
Hold it, Mirren!
the first voice screamed.
There was a gentle click, as if the speakers were cut off while the
interrogation team talked things over. Enoch scooted around till he found the
soft wall, and sat up against it, whistling happily. He whistled You and the
Night and the Music,
segueing smoothly into Some Day My Prince Will Come. There was another
gentle click and one of the voices returned. It was the angry voice that spoke
first; the impatient one who was clearly unhappy with the temponaut. His tone
was soothing,
cajoling, as if he were the Recreation Director of the Outpatient Clinic of
the
Menninger Foundation.
Enoch... may I call you Enoch... Enoch murmured it was lovely to be called
Enoch, and the first voice went on, We re, uh, having a bit of difficulty
understanding you.
How so?
Well, we re taping this conversation... uh, you don t mind if we tape this,
do you, Enoch?
Huh-uh.
Yes, well. We find, on the tape, the following words: frenzel, smelches,
nolneg ...
That s nol nek,
Enoch Mirren said. A nol neg is quite another matter. In fact, if you were to
refer to a nolnek as a nolneg, one of the tilffs would certainly get highly
upset and level a renaq...

Hold it!
The hysterical tone was creeping back into the interrogator s voice.
Nolnek, nolneg, what does it matter--
Oh, it matters a lot. See, as I was saying--
--it doesn t matter at all, Mirren, you asshole! We can t understand a word
you re saying!
The woman s voice interrupted. Lay back, Bert. Let me talk to him. Bert
mumbled something vaguely obscene under his breath. If there was anything
Enoch hated, it was vagueness.
Enoch, said the woman s voice, this is Dr. Arpin. Inez Arpin? Remember me?
I
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was on your training team before you left?
Enoch thought about it. Were you the black lady with the glasses and the ink
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