Free The Avram Davidson Treasury by Avram Davidson Page A

when they come from a prominent scientist of the stature of Dr. Morris Goldpepper—
    “Handwriting experts have pronounced this to be his handwriting beyond cavil of a doubt. Here”—he delved into a box—“are the eleven plates in question. Can any of you look at these clean lines and deny that they are the work of the incomparable Goldpepper?”
    The six other men looked at the objects, shook their heads.
    “Beautiful,” murmured Dr. Smith, “even in their broken state. Poems in plastic! M. G. couldn’t produce bad work if he tried!”
    Dr. Rorke continued. “Each report confirmed that the person who brought in the plate had a blue mouth and edentulous ridges, just as the message states. Each blue-mouthed patient exhibited the outward appearance of old age. And , gentlemen, of those eleven, no less than eight were reported from the State of California. Do you realize what that means? California offers the highest amount of financial assistance to the elderly! Goldpepper’s surmise was right!”
    Dr. Hansen leaned forward. “In addition, our reports show that five of those eight are leaders in the fight against fluoridation of drinking water! It is my carefully considered belief that there is something in their physical makeup, evolved on another planet, which cannot tolerate fluorine even in minute quantities, because they certainly—being already toothless—wouldn’t be concerned with the prevention of decay.”
    Young Dr. McCallister took the floor. “We have checked with dental supply houses and detail men in the New York metropolitan area and we found that large quantities of prosthetic supplies have been delivered to an otherwise unknown outfit—called the Echs Export Company—located not far north of the Washington Market! There is every reason to believe that this is the place Dr. Goldpepper mentioned. One of our men went there, found present only one man, in appearance an old man. Our representative feigned deafness, thus obliging this person to open his mouth and talk loudly. Doctors, he reports that this person has a blue mouth! ”
    There was a deep intake of breath around the table.
    Dr. Rorke leaned forward and snapped off the tape recorders. “This next is off the record. It is obvious, Doctors, that no ordinary methods will suffice to settle this case, to ensure the return of our unfortunate colleague, or to secure the withdrawal of these extraterrestrial individuals from our nation and planet. I cannot, of course, officially endorse what might be termed ‘strong-arm’ methods. At the same time, I feel that our adversaries are not entitled to polite treatment. And obviously the usual channels of law enforcement are completely closed to us.
    “Therefore—and remember, no word of this must pass outside our circle—therefore I have communicated something of this matter to Mr. Albert Annapollo, the well-known waterfront figure, who not long ago inaugurated the splendid Longshoremen’s Dental Health Plan. Mr. Annapollo is a somewhat rough person, but he is nonetheless a loyal American…
    “We know now the Achilles heel of these alien creatures. It is fluorine. We know also how to identify them. And I think we may shortly be able to announce results. Meanwhile—” he drew a slip of paper from his pocket—“it is already the first of the month in that quarter when the dental supplies are due to be transported—or teleported, as Dr. Goldpepper terms it—to their distant destination. A large shipment is waiting to be delivered from the warehouses of a certain wholesaler to the premises of the Echs Exporting Company. I have had copies of this made and wrapped around each three-ounce bottle of Ellenbogen’s Denture Stik-Phast. I presume it meets with your approval.”
    He handed it to Dr. Hansen, who, as the others present nodded in grimly emphatic approval, read it aloud.
    “From The American Dental Association, representing over 45,000 registered dentists in the United States and its