Bread Overhead By FRITZ LEIBER _The Staff of Life suddenly and disconcertingly sprouted wings --and mankind had to eat crow!_ Illustrated by WOOD As a blisteringly hot but guaranteed weather-controlled future summerday dawned on the Mississippi Valley, the walking mills of PuffyProducts ("Spike to Loaf in One Operation!") began to tread delicatelyon their centipede legs across the wheat fields of Kansas. The walking mills resembled fat metal serpents, rather larger than thoseChinese paper dragons animated by files of men in procession. Sensoryrobot devices in their noses informed them that the waiting wheat hadreached ripe perfection. As they advanced, their heads swung lazily from side to side, very muchlike snakes, gobbling the yellow grain. In their throats, it wasthreshed, the chaff bundled and burped aside for pickup by the crawltrucks of a chemical corporation, the kernels quick-dried and blownalong into the mighty chests of the machines. There the tireless millsground the kernels to flour, which was instantly sifted, the bran beingpackaged and dropped like the chaff for pickup. A cluster of tanks whichgave the metal serpents a decidedly humpbacked appearance added water, shortening, salt and other ingredients, some named and some not. Thedough was at the same time infused with gas from a tank conspicuouslylabeled "Carbon Dioxide" ("No Yeast Creatures in Your Bread!"). [Illustration] Thus instantly risen, the dough was clipped into loaves and shot intoradionic ovens forming the midsections of the metal serpents. There thebread was baked in a matter of seconds, a fierce heat-front browning thecrusts, and the piping-hot loaves sealed in transparent plastic bearingthe proud Puffyloaf emblem (two cherubs circling a floating loaf) andejected onto the delivery platform at each serpent's rear end, where acluster of pickup machines, like hungry piglets, snatched at the loaveswith hygienic claws. A few loaves would be hurried off for the day's consumption, themajority stored for winter in strategically located mammoth deepfreezes. But now, behold a wonder! As loaves began to appear on the deliveryplatform of the first walking mill to get into action, they did notlinger on the conveyor belt, but rose gently into the air and slowlytraveled off down-wind across the hot rippling fields. * * * * * The robot claws of the pickup machines clutched in vain, and, notnoticing the difference, proceeded carefully to stack emptiness, tier bytier. One errant loaf, rising more sluggishly than its fellows, wassnagged by a thrusting claw. The machine paused, clumsily wiped off theinjured loaf, set it aside--where it bobbed on one corner, unable totake off again--and went back to the work of storing nothingness. A flock of crows rose from the trees of a nearby shelterbelt as theflight of loaves approached. The crows swooped to investigate and thensuddenly scattered, screeching in panic. The helicopter of a hangoverish Sunday traveler bound for Wichita shiedvery similarly from the brown fliers and did not return for a secondlook. A black-haired housewife spied them over her back fence, crossed herselfand grabbed her walkie-talkie from the laundry basket. Seconds later, the yawning correspondent of a regional newspaper was jotting down thelead of a humorous news story which, recalling the old flying-saucerscares, stated that now apparently bread was to be included in the madaerial tea party. The congregation of an open-walled country church, standing up to recitethe most familiar of Christian prayers, had just reached the petitionfor daily sustenance, when a sub-flight of the loaves, either forceddown by a vagrant wind or lacking the natural buoyancy of the rest, camecoasting silently as the sunbeams between the graceful pillars at thealtar end of the building. Meanwhile, the main flight, now augmented by other bread flocks fromscores and hundreds of walking mills that had started work a littlelater, mounted slowly and majestically into the cirrus-flecked upperair, where a steady wind was blowing strongly toward the east. About one thousand miles farther on in that direction, where a clusterof stratosphere-tickling towers marked the location of the metropolis ofNewNew York, a tender scene was being enacted in the pressurizedpenthouse managerial suite of Puffy Products. Megera Winterly, Secretaryin Chief to the Managerial Board and referred to by her underlings asthe Blonde Icicle, was dealing with the advances of Roger ("Racehorse")Snedden, Assistant Secretary to the Board and often indistinguishablefrom any passing office boy. "Why don't you jump out the window, Roger, remembering to shut theairlock after you?" the Golden Glacier said in tones not unkind. "Whenare your high-strung, thoroughbred nerves going to accept the fact thatI would never consider marriage with a business inferior? You have aboutas much chance as a starving Ukrainian kulak now that Moscow's clappedon the interdict. " * * * * * Roger's voice was calm, although his eyes were feverishly bright, as hereplied, "A lot of things are going to be different around here, Meg, assoon as the Board is forced to admit that only my quick thinking made itpossible to bring the name of Puffyloaf in front of the whole world. " "Puffyloaf could do with a little of that, " the business girl observedjudiciously. "The way sales have been plummeting, it won't be longbefore the Government deeds our desks to the managers of Fairy Bread andasks us to take the Big Jump. But just where does your quick thinkingcome into this, Mr. Snedden? You can't be referring to the helium--thatwas Rose Thinker's brainwave. " She studied him suspiciously. "You've birthed another promotionalbumble, Roger. I can see it in your eyes. I only hope it's not as big aone as when you put the Martian ambassador on 3D and he thanked youprofusely for the gross of Puffyloaves, assuring you that he'd neverslept on a softer mattress in all his life on two planets. " "Listen to me, Meg. Today--yes, today!--you're going to see the Boardeating out of my hand. " "Hah! I guarantee you won't have any fingers left. You're bold enoughnow, but when Mr. Gryce and those two big machines come through thatdoor--" "Now wait a minute, Meg--" "Hush! They're coming now!" Roger leaped three feet in the air, but managed to land without a soundand edged toward his stool. Through the dilating iris of the door strodePhineas T. Gryce, flanked by Rose Thinker and Tin Philosopher. The man approached the conference table in the center of the room withmeasured pace and gravely expressionless face. The rose-tinted machineon his left did a couple of impulsive pirouettes on the way andtwittered a greeting to Meg and Roger. The other machine quietly tookthe third of the high seats and lifted a claw at Meg, who now occupied astool twice the height of Roger's. "Miss Winterly, please--our theme. " The Blonde Icicle's face thawed into a little-girl smile as she chantedbubblingly: "_Made up of tiny wheaten motes And reinforced with sturdy oats, It rises through the air and floats-- The bread on which all Terra dotes!_" * * * * * "Thank you, Miss Winterly, " said Tin Philosopher. "Though a purelyfigurative statement, that bit about rising through the air always getsme--here. " He rapped his midsection, which gave off a high musical_clang_. "Ladies--" he inclined his photocells toward Rose Thinker and Meg--"andgentlemen. This is a historic occasion in Old Puffy's long history, theinauguration of the helium-filled loaf ('So Light It Almost FloatsAway!') in which that inert and heaven-aspiring gas replacesold-fashioned carbon dioxide. Later, there will be kudos for RoseThinker, whose bright relays genius-sparked the idea, and also for RogerSnedden, who took care of the details. "By the by, Racehorse, that was a brilliant piece of work getting thehelium out of the government--they've been pretty stuffy lately abouttheir monopoly. But first I want to throw wide the casement in yourminds that opens on the Long View of Things. " Rose Thinker spun twice on her chair and opened her photocells wide. TinPhilosopher coughed to limber up the diaphragm of his speaker andcontinued: "Ever since the first cave wife boasted to her next-den neighbor aboutthe superior paleness and fluffiness of her tortillas, mankind hassought lighter, whiter bread. Indeed, thinkers wiser than myself haveequated the whole upward course of culture with this poignant quest. Yeast was a wonderful discovery--for its primitive day. Sifting the branand wheat germ from the flour was an even more important advance. Earlybleaching and preserving chemicals played their humble parts. "For a while, barbarous faddists--blind to the deeply spiritual natureof bread, which is recognized by all great religions--held back ourmarch toward perfection with their hair-splitting insistence on thevitamin content of the wheat germ, but their case collapsed whentasteless colorless substitutes were triumphantly synthesized andintroduced into the loaf, which for flawless purity, unequaled airinessand sheer intangible goodness was rapidly becoming mankind's supremegustatory experience. " [Illustration] "I wonder what the stuff tastes like, " Rose Thinker said out of a clearsky. "I wonder what taste tastes like, " Tin Philosopher echoed dreamily. Recovering himself, he continued: "Then, early in the twenty-first century, came the epochal researches ofEverett Whitehead, Puffyloaf chemist, culminating in his paper 'TheStructural Bubble in Cereal Masses' and making possible the baking ofairtight bread twenty times stronger (for its weight) than steel and ofa lightness that would have been incredible even to the advancedchemist-bakers of the twentieth century--a lightness so great that, besides forming the backbone of our own promotion, it has forever sincebeen capitalized on by our conscienceless competitors of Fairy Breadwith their enduring slogan: 'It Makes Ghost Toast'. " "That's a beaut, all right, that ecto-dough blurb, " Rose Thinkeradmitted, bugging her photocells sadly. "Wait a sec. How about?-- "_There'll be bread Overhead When you're dead-- It is said. _" * * * * * Phineas T. Gryce wrinkled his nostrils at the pink machine as if hesmelled her insulation smoldering. He said mildly, "A somewhat unhappyjingle, Rose, referring as it does to the end of the customer asconsumer. Moreover, we shouldn't overplay the figurative 'rises throughthe air' angle. What inspired you?" She shrugged. "I don't know--oh, yes, I do. I was remembering one of theworkers' songs we machines used to chant during the Big Strike-- "_Work and pray, Live on hay. You'll get pie In the sky When you die-- It's a lie!_ "I don't know why we chanted it, " she added. "We didn't want pie--orhay, for that matter. And machines don't pray, except Tibetan prayerwheels. " Phineas T. Gryce shook his head. "Labor relations are another topic weshould stay far away from. However, dear Rose, I'm glad you keep tryingto outjingle those dirty crooks at Fairy Bread. " He scowled, turningback his attention to Tin Philosopher. "I get whopping mad, Old Machine, whenever I hear that other slogan of theirs, the discriminatoryone--'Untouched by Robot Claws. ' Just because they employ a few filthyandroids in their factories!" Tin Philosopher lifted one of his own sets of bright talons. "Thanks, P. T. But to continue my historical resume, the next great advance in thebaking art was the substitution of purified carbon dioxide, recoveredfrom coal smoke, for the gas generated by yeast organisms indwelling inthe dough and later killed by the heat of baking, their corpsesremaining _in situ_. But even purified carbon dioxide is itself a ratherrepugnant gas, a product of metabolism whether fast or slow, and foreverassociated with those life processes which are obnoxious to thefastidious. " Here the machine shuddered with delicate clinkings. "Therefore, we ofPuffyloaf are taking today what may be the ultimate step toward purity:we are aerating our loaves with the noble gas helium, an element whichremains virginal in the face of all chemical temptations and whose slimmolecules are eleven times lighter than obese carbon dioxide--yes, nobleuncontaminable helium, which, if it be a kind of ash, is yet the ashonly of radioactive burning, accomplished or initiated entirely on theSun, a safe 93 million miles from this planet. Let's have a cheer forthe helium loaf!" * * * * * Without changing expression, Phineas T. Gryce rapped the table thrice insolemn applause, while the others bowed their heads. "Thanks, T. P. , " P. T. Then said. "And now for the Moment of Truth. MissWinterly, how is the helium loaf selling?" The business girl clapped on a pair of earphones and whispered into alapel mike. Her gaze grew abstracted as she mentally translated flurriesof brief squawks into coherent messages. Suddenly a single verticalfurrow creased her matchlessly smooth brow. "It isn't, Mr. Gryce!" she gasped in horror. "Fairy Bread is outsellingPuffyloaves by an infinity factor. So far this morning, _there has notbeen one single delivery of Puffyloaves to any sales spot_! Complaintsabout non-delivery are pouring in from both walking stores and sessileshops. " "Mr. Snedden!" Gryce barked. "What bug in the new helium process mightaccount for this delay?" Roger was on his feet, looking bewildered. "I can't imagine, sir, unless--just possibly--there's been some unforeseeable difficultyinvolving the new metal-foil wrappers. " "Metal-foil wrappers? Were _you_ responsible for those?" "Yes, sir. Last-minute recalculations showed that the extra lightness ofthe new loaf might be great enough to cause drift during stackage. Drafts in stores might topple sales pyramids. Metal-foil wrappers, bytheir added weight, took care of the difficulty. " "And you ordered them without consulting the Board?" "Yes, sir. There was hardly time and--" "Why, you fool! I noticed that order for metal-foil wrappers, assumed itwas some sub-secretary's mistake, and canceled it last night!" Roger Snedden turned pale. "You canceled it?" he quavered. "And toldthem to go back to the lighter plastic wrappers?" "Of course! Just what is behind all this, Mr. Snedden? _What_recalculations were you trusting, when our physicists had demonstratedmonths ago that the helium loaf was safely stackable in light airs andgentle breezes--winds up to Beaufort's scale 3. _Why_ should a changefrom heavier to lighter wrappers result in complete non-delivery?" * * * * * Roger Snedden's paleness became tinged with an interesting green. Hecleared his throat and made strange gulping noises. Tin Philosopher'sphotocells focused on him calmly, Rose Thinker's with unfeignedexcitement. P. T. Gryce's frown grew blacker by the moment, while MegeraWinterly's Venus-mask showed an odd dawning of dismay and awe. She wasgetting new squawks in her earphones. "Er . .. Ah . .. Er. .. . " Roger said in winning tones. "Well, you see, thefact is that I. .. . " "Hold it, " Meg interrupted crisply. "Triple-urgent from PublicRelations, Safety Division. Tulsa-Topeka aero-express makes emergencylanding after being buffeted in encounter with vast flight of objectsfirst described as brown birds, although no failures reported inairway's electronic anti-bird fences. After grounding safely nearEmporia--no fatalities--pilot's windshield found thinly plastered withsoft white-and-brown material. Emblems on plastic wrappers embedded inmaterial identify it incontrovertibly as an undetermined number ofPuffyloaves cruising at three thousand feet!" Eyes and photocells turned inquisitorially upon Roger Snedden. He wentfrom green to Puffyloaf white and blurted: "All right, I did it, but itwas the only way out! Yesterday morning, due to the Ukrainian crisis, the government stopped sales and deliveries of all strategic stockpiledmaterials, including helium gas. Puffy's new program of advertising andpromotion, based on the lighter loaf, was already rolling. There wasonly one thing to do, there being only one other gas comparable inlightness to helium. I diverted the necessary quantity of hydrogen gasfrom the Hydrogenated Oils Section of our Magna-Margarine Division andsubstituted it for the helium. " "You substituted . .. Hydrogen . .. For the . .. Helium?" Phineas T. Grycefaltered in low mechanical tones, taking four steps backward. "Hydrogen is twice as light as helium, " Tin Philosopher remarkedjudiciously. "And many times cheaper--did you know that?" Roger countered feebly. "Yes, I substituted hydrogen. The metal-foil wrapping would have addedjust enough weight to counteract the greater buoyancy of the hydrogenloaf. But--" "So, when this morning's loaves began to arrive on the deliveryplatforms of the walking mills. .. . " Tin Philosopher left the remarkunfinished. "Exactly, " Roger agreed dismally. "Let me ask you, Mr. Snedden, " Gryce interjected, still in low tones, "if you expected people to jump to the kitchen ceiling for theirPuffybread after taking off the metal wrapper, or reach for the sky ifthey happened to unwrap the stuff outdoors?" "Mr. Gryce, " Roger said reproachfully, "you have often assured me thatwhat people do with Puffybread after they buy it is no concern of ours. " "I seem to recall, " Rose Thinker chirped somewhat unkindly, "that dictumwas created to answer inquiries after Roger put the famoussculptures-in-miniature artist on 3D and he testified that he alwaysmolded his first attempts from Puffybread, one jumbo loaf squeezing downto approximately the size of a peanut. " * * * * * Her photocells dimmed and brightened. "Oh, boy--hydrogen! The loaf'sunwrapped. After a while, in spite of the crust-seal, a little oxygendiffuses in. An explosive mixture. Housewife in curlers and kimono popsa couple slices in the toaster. Boom!" The three human beings in the room winced. Tin Philosopher kicked her under the table, while observing, "So yousee, Roger, that the non-delivery of the hydrogen loaf carries someconsolations. And I must confess that one aspect of the affair gives megreat satisfaction, not as a Board Member but as a private machine. Youhave at last made a reality of the 'rises through the air' part ofPuffybread's theme. They can't ever take that away from you. By now, half the inhabitants of the Great Plains must have observed our flyingloaves rising high. " Phineas T. Gryce shot a frightened look at the west windows and foundhis full voice. "Stop the mills!" he roared at Meg Winterly, who nodded and whisperedurgently into her mike. "A sensible suggestion, " Tin Philosopher said. "But it comes a triflelate in the day. If the mills are still walking and grinding, approximately seven billion Puffyloaves are at this moment cruisingeastward over Middle America. Remember that a six-month supply fordeep-freeze is involved and that the current consumption of bread, dueto its matchless airiness, is eight and one-half loaves per person perday. " Phineas T. Gryce carefully inserted both hands into his scanty hair, feeling for a good grip. He leaned menacingly toward Roger who, chinresting on the table, regarded him apathetically. "Hold it!" Meg called sharply. "Flock of multiple-urgents coming in. News Liaison: information bureaus swamped with flying-bread inquiries. Aero-expresslines: Clear our airways or face law suit. U. S. Army: Whydo loaves flame when hit by incendiary bullets? U. S. Customs: If breadintended for export, get export license or face prosecution. RussianConsulate in Chicago: Advise on destination of bread-lift. And someKansas church is accusing us of a hoax inciting to blasphemy, of fakingmiracles--I don't know _why_. " The business girl tore off her headphones. "Roger Snedden, " she criedwith a hysteria that would have dumfounded her underlings, "you'vebrought the name of Puffyloaf in front of the whole world, all right!Now do something about the situation!" Roger nodded obediently. But his pallor increased a shade, the pupils ofhis eyes disappeared under the upper lids, and his head burrowed beneathhis forearms. "Oh, boy, " Rose Thinker called gayly to Tin Philosopher, "this lookslike the start of a real crisis session! Did you remember to bring sparebatteries?" * * * * * Meanwhile, the monstrous flight of Puffyloaves, filling midwestern skiesas no small fliers had since the days of the passenger pigeon, soaredsteadily onward. Private fliers approached the brown and glistening bread-front incuriosity and dipped back in awe. Aero-expresslines organizedsightseeing flights along the flanks. Planes of the government forestryand agricultural services and 'copters bearing the Puffyloaf emblemhovered on the fringes, watching developments and waiting for orders. Asquadron of supersonic fighters hung menacingly above. The behavior of birds varied considerably. Most fled or gave the loavesa wide berth, but some bolder species, discovering the minimal nutritivenature of the translucent brown objects, attacked them furiously withbeaks and claws. Hydrogen diffusing slowly through the crusts had nowdistended most of the sealed plastic wrappers into little balloons, which ruptured, when pierced, with disconcerting _pops_. Below, neck-craning citizens crowded streets and back yards, cranks andcultists had a field day, while local and national governments ragedindiscriminately at Puffyloaf and at each other. Rumors that a fusion weapon would be exploded in the midst of the flyingbread drew angry protests from conservationists and a flood of telefaxpamphlets titled "H-Loaf or H-bomb?" Stockholm sent a mystifying note of praise to the United Nations FoodOrganization. Delhi issued nervous denials of a millet blight that no one had heard ofuntil that moment and reaffirmed India's ability to feed her populationwith no outside help except the usual. Radio Moscow asserted that the Kremlin would brook no interference inits treatment of the Ukrainians, jokingly referred to the flying breadas a farce perpetrated by mad internationalists inhabiting Cloud CuckooLand, added contradictory references to airborne bread booby-trapped byCapitalist gangsters, and then fell moodily silent on the whole topic. Radio Venus reported to its winged audience that Earth's inhabitantswere establishing food depots in the upper air, preparatory to taking uppermanent aerial residence "such as we have always enjoyed on Venus. " * * * * * NewNew York made feverish preparations for the passage of the flyingbread. Tickets for sightseeing space in skyscrapers were sold at highprices; cold meats and potted spreads were hawked to viewers with theassurance that they would be able to snag the bread out of the air andenjoy a historic sandwich. Phineas T. Gryce, escaping from his own managerial suite, raged aboutthe city, demanding general cooperation in the stretching of great netsbetween the skyscrapers to trap the errant loaves. He was captured byTin Philosopher, escaped again, and was found posted with oxygen maskand submachine gun on the topmost spire of Puffyloaf Tower, apparentlydetermined to shoot down the loaves as they appeared and before theyinvolved his company in more trouble with Customs and the StateDepartment. Recaptured by Tin Philosopher, who suffered only minor bullet holes, hewas given a series of mild electroshocks and returned to the conferencetable, calm and clear-headed as ever. [Illustration] But the bread flight, swinging away from a hurricane moving up theAtlantic coast, crossed a clouded-in Boston by night and disappearedinto a high Atlantic overcast, also thereby evading a local stormgenerated by the Weather Department in a last-minute effort to bringdown or at least disperse the H-loaves. Warnings and counterwarnings by Communist and Capitalist governmentsseriously interfered with military trailing of the flight during thisperiod and it was actually lost in touch with for several days. At scattered points, seagulls were observed fighting over individualloaves floating down from the gray roof--that was all. A mood of spirituality strongly tinged with humor seized the people ofthe world. Ministers sermonized about the bread, variously interpretingit as a call to charity, a warning against gluttony, a parable of theevanescence of all earthly things, and a divine joke. Husbands andwives, facing each other across their walls of breakfast toast, burstinto laughter. The mere sight of a loaf of bread anywhere was enough toevoke guffaws. An obscure sect, having as part of its creed theinjunction "Don't take yourself so damn seriously, " won new adherents. The bread flight, rising above an Atlantic storm widely reported to havedestroyed it, passed unobserved across a foggy England and rose out ofthe overcast only over Mittel-europa. The loaves had at last reachedtheir maximum altitude. The Sun's rays beat through the rarified air on the distended plasticwrappers, increasing still further the pressure of the confinedhydrogen. They burst by the millions and tens of millions. A high-flyingBulgarian evangelist, who had happened to mistake the up-lever for theeast-lever in the cockpit of his flier and who was the sole witness ofthe event, afterward described it as "the foaming of a sea of diamonds, the crackle of God's knuckles. " * * * * * By the millions and tens of millions, the loaves coasted down into thestarving Ukraine. Shaken by a week of humor that threatened to invadeeven its own grim precincts, the Kremlin made a sudden about-face. A newpolicy was instituted of communal ownership of the produce of communalfarms, and teams of hunger-fighters and caravans of trucks loaded withpumpernickel were dispatched into the Ukraine. World distribution was given to a series of photographs showingpeasants queueing up to trade scavenged Puffyloaves for traditionalblack bread, recently aerated itself but still extra solid bycomparison, the rate of exchange demanded by the Moscow teams beingtwenty Puffyloaves to one of pumpernickel. Another series of photographs, picturing chubby workers' children beingblown to bits by booby-trapped bread, was quietly destroyed. Congratulatory notes were exchanged by various national governments andworld organizations, including the Brotherhood of Free BusinessMachines. The great bread flight was over, though for several weeksafterward scattered falls of loaves occurred, giving rise to a newfolklore of manna among lonely Arabian tribesmen, and in onewell-authenticated instance in Tibet, sustaining life in a party ofmountaineers cut off by a snow slide. Back in NewNew York, the managerial board of Puffy Products slumped inutter collapse around the conference table, the long crisis session atlast ended. Empty coffee cartons were scattered around the chairs of thethree humans, dead batteries around those of the two machines. For awhile, there was no movement whatsoever. Then Roger Snedden reached outwearily for the earphones where Megera Winterly had hurled them down, adjusted them to his head, pushed a button and listened apathetically. After a bit, his gaze brightened. He pushed more buttons and listenedmore eagerly. Soon he was sitting tensely upright on his stool, eyesbright and lower face all a-smile, muttering terse comments andquestions into the lapel mike torn from Meg's fair neck. The others, reviving, watched him, at first dully, then with quickeninginterest, especially when he jerked off the earphones with a happy shoutand sprang to his feet. * * * * * "Listen to this!" he cried in a ringing voice. "As a result of theworldwide publicity, Puffyloaves are outselling Fairy Bread three toone--and that's just the old carbon-dioxide stock from our freezers!It's almost exhausted, but the government, now that the Ukrainian crisisis over, has taken the ban off helium and will also sell us stockpiledwheat if we need it. We can have our walking mills burrowing into thewheat caves in a matter of hours! "But that isn't all! The far greater demand everywhere is forPuffyloaves that will actually float. Public Relations, Child LiaisonDivision, reports that the kiddies are making their mothers' livesmiserable about it. If only we can figure out some way to make hydrogennon-explosive or the helium loaf float just a little--" "I'm sure we can take care of that quite handily, " Tin Philosopherinterrupted briskly. "Puffyloaf has kept it a corporation secret--evenyou've never been told about it--but just before he went crazy, EverettWhitehead discovered a way to make bread using only half as much flouras we do in the present loaf. Using this secret technique, which we'vebeen saving for just such an emergency, it will be possible to bake ahelium loaf as buoyant in every respect as the hydrogen loaf. " "Good!" Roger cried. "We'll tether 'em on strings and sell 'em likeballoons. No mother-child shopping team will leave the store without acluster. Buying bread balloons will be the big event of the day forkiddies. It'll make the carry-home shopping load lighter too! I'll issueorders at once--" * * * * * He broke off, looking at Phineas T. Gryce, said with quiet assurance, "Excuse me, sir, if I seem to be taking too much upon myself. " "Not at all, son; go straight ahead, " the great manager saidapprovingly. "You're"--he laughed in anticipation of getting off amemorable remark--"rising to the challenging situation like a genuinePuffyloaf. " Megera Winterly looked from the older man to the younger. Then in asingle leap she was upon Roger, her arms wrapped tightly around him. "My sweet little ever-victorious, self-propelled monkey wrench!" shecrooned in his ear. Roger looked fatuously over her soft shoulder at TinPhilosopher who, as if moved by some similar feeling, reached over andtouched claws with Rose Thinker. This, however, was what he telegraphed silently to his fellow machineacross the circuit so completed: "Good-o, Rosie! That makes another victory for robot-engineered worldunity, though you almost gave us away at the start with that 'breadoverhead' jingle. We've struck another blow against the next world war, in which--as we know only too well!--we machines would suffer the most. Now if we can only arrange, say, a fur-famine in Alaska and a migrationof long-haired Siberian lemmings across Behring Straits . .. We'd have toswing the Japanese Current up there so it'd be warm enough for thelittle fellows. .. . Anyhow, Rosie, with a spot of help from theBrotherhood, those humans will paint themselves into the peace corneryet. " Meanwhile, he and Rose Thinker quietly watched the Blonde Icicle melt. --FRITZ LEIBER Transcriber's Note This etext was produced from _Galaxy_ February 1958. Extensive researchdid not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publicationwas renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been correctedwithout note.