THE RUTABAGA THAT WALKED LIKE A MAN
The girl lay in the rain by her crumpled motorcycle. "You must help me," she whispered. "Deliver the message: Beware the Rhox!"
"What rocks?" Roger looked around wildly. "I'll go for a doctor!"
Her voice faltered. "No time . . . to explain . . . take . . . button . . . put it in . . . your ear . . . ." The green eyes held on Roger's, pleading.
"Seems like a funny time to worry about a hearing aid," Roger gulped, "but . . ." He held the button to his ear. Did he hear a faint, wavering hum, or was it his imagination? He pushed it in.
"Drive to Pottsville," the girl's voice said in his ear. "Start now. Time is precious!"
There was the sound of a motor. The headlight of a second motorcycle was approaching. As it shot past, he saw the shape behind the handlebars: a headless torso, bulbous, ornamented with two clusters of tentacles. Through the single goggle, an eye as big as a pizza swiveled to impale him with a glance of utter alienness.
With a strangled yell, Roger leaped back and saw the motorcycle veer wildly, hurling its monstrous rider clear, then skid to a stop in the center of the highway. Roger could see that the rider's upper portion was smashed into a pulp.
"I should go to the police," he said. "But what can I say? That I was responsible for the death of a giant rutabaga?"
"Time is of the essence," the girl's slightly accented voice said. "Get going! Take the motorcycle!"
"That would be stealing!"
"Who's going to report it? Relatives of a giant rutabaga?"
"You have a definite point there," Roger said . . .
—from Time Trap
BAEN BOOKS by Keith Laumer:
The Compleat Bolo Retief! Odyssey Keith Laumer: The Lighter Side
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