Ray Bradbury: I Sing the Body Electric

And Other Stories

HarperVoyager an imprint of

HarperCollins Publishers Ltd 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published by Alfred A. Knopf 1969

First published in Great Britain by Hart-Davis 1970

Copyright © Ray Bradbury 1969

“Any Friend of Nicholas Nickleby’s Is a Friend of Mine” (originally titled “Charlie Is My Darling”) and “I Sing the Body Electric!” (originally titled “The Beautiful One Is Here”) first appeared in McCall’s magazine. “The Cold Wind and the Warm” was originally published in Harper’s magazine. “The Women” was originally published in Famous Fantastic Mysteries. “The Tombling Day” was originally published in Shenandoah. “Heavy-Set,” “The Man in the Rorschach Suit,” “Lost City of Mars,” and “Downwind from Gettysburg” were originally published in Playboy magazine “The Kilimanjaro Device” (originally titled “The Kilimanjaro Machine”) first appeared in Life magazine. “Henry IX” (originally titled “A Final Sceptre, a Lasting Crown”) first appeared in Fantasy & Science Fiction. “The Blue Bottle” Copyright 1950 by Love Romances Publishing Inc. “Punishment Without Crime” Copyright 1950 by Other Worlds. “One Timeless Spring” first appeared in Collier’s. “A Piece of Wood” first appeared in Esquire. “The Utterly Perfect Murder” (originally titled “My Perfect Murder”) and “The Parrot Who Met Papa” first appeared in Playboy magazine. “Drink Entire: Against the Madness of Crowds” first appeared in Gallery.

Ray Bradbury asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Ebook Edition © December 2013 ISBN: 9780007541706

Version: 2018-02-27

This book, a bit late in the

day, but with admiration, affection,

and friendship, is for

NORMAN CORWIN.

Epigraph

I Sing the Body Electric;

The armies of those I love engirth me, and I engirth them;

They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,

And discorrupt them,

And charge them full with the charge of the Soul.

WALT WHITMAN

Copyright

Dedication

Epigraph

The Kilimanjaro Device

The Terrible Conflagration Up at the Place

Tomorrow’s Child

The Women

The Inspired Chicken Motel

Downwind from Gettysburg

Yes, We’ll Gather at the River

The Cold Wind and the Warm

Night Call, Collect

The Haunting of the New

I Sing the Body Electric!

The Tombling Day

Any Friend of Nicholas Nickleby’s Is a Friend of Mine

Heavy-Set

The Man in the Rorschach Shirt

Henry the Ninth

The Lost City of Mars

The Blue Bottle

One Timeless Spring

The Parrot Who Met Papa

The Burning Man

A Piece of Wood

The Messiah

G.B.S.—Mark V

The Utterly Perfect Murder

Punishment Without Crime

Getting Through Sunday Somehow

Drink Entire: Against the Madness of Crowds

Christus Apollo

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I arrived in the truck very early in the morning. I had been driving all night, for I hadn’t been able to sleep at the motel so I thought I might as well drive and I arrived among the mountains and hills near Ketchum and Sun Valley just as the sun came up and I was glad I had kept busy with driving.

I drove into the town itself without looking up at that one hill. I was afraid if I looked at it, I would make a mistake. It was very important not to look at the grave. At least that is how I felt. And I had to go on my hunch.

I parked the truck in front of an old saloon and walked around the town and talked to a few people and breathed the air and it was sweet and clear. I found a young hunter, but he was wrong; I knew that after talking to him for a few minutes. I found a very old man, but he was no better. Then I found me a hunter about fifty, and he was just right. He knew, or sensed, everything I was looking for.

I bought him a beer and we talked about a lot of things, and then I bought him another beer and led the conversation around to what I was doing here and why I wanted to talk to him. We were silent for a while and I waited, not showing my impatience, for the hunter, on his own, to bring up the past, to speak of other days three years ago, and of driving toward Sun Valley at this time or that and what he saw and knew about a man who had once sat in this bar and drunk beer and talked about hunting or gone hunting out beyond.

And at last, looking off at the wall as if it were the highway and the mountains, the hunter gathered up his quiet voice and was ready to speak.

“That old man,” he said. “Oh, that old man on the road. Oh, that poor old man.”

I waited.

“I just can’t get over that old man on the road,” he said, looking down now into his drink.

I drank some more of my beer, not feeling well, feeling very old myself and tired.

When the silence prolonged itself, I got out a local map and laid it on the wooden table. The bar was quiet. It was midmorning and we were completely alone there.

“This is where you saw him most often?” I asked.

The hunter touched the map three times. “I used to see him walking here. And along there. Then he’d cut across the land here. That poor old man. I wanted to tell him to keep off the road. I didn’t want to hurt or insult him. You don’t tell a man like that about roads or that maybe he’ll be hit. If he’s going to be hit, well that’s it. You figure it’s his business, and you go on. Oh, but he was old there at the last.”

“He was,” I said, and folded the map and put it in my pocket.

“You another of those reporters?” said the hunter.