The Show Must Go On
By HENRY SLESAR
Illustrated by ENGLE
Actors wanted: experience unnecessary,
salary excellent, life expectancy brief....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Infinity July 1957.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
He awoke in darkness, trembling with the thought of escape.
His hands groped around the floor, trying its solidity. Then he crawledforward with agonizing slowness until his fingertips found a wall. Heraised himself to his feet, his cheek scraping the cool surface of theenclosure.
An idea came to him, and he slapped at the pocket of his shirt. Hispalm struck the outline of something. Matches!
He lit one, and raised it to the level of his wide, frightened eyes.He was facing a door, a barricade of steel, without sign of latch ordoorknob. But there was a sign, and he read it in the flicker of thematchflame. It said:
PUSH
He made a noise in his throat, and shoved against the door. It gave into his weight, and he was outside the building, standing in a courtyardwashed softly by moonlight.
He circled where he stood, and knew he was a prisoner still. A wirefence, four times his height, surrounded him.
He came closer to it, and plunged his fingers through the mesh,rattling it helplessly in his misery. Then he saw the second sign, andheld his breath. It read:
YOU CAN DO IT
Encouraged, he began his climb. The toes of his rubber-soled shoesfit neatly into the openings, and he gained the summit of the fencequickly. He swayed uncertainly at the top, and almost dropped thetwenty-five feet to the other side. But he regained his balance,clambered down the mesh, and dropped panting to the ground.
A voice boomed at him.
"All right, let's go! We haven't got all night!"
He forced himself to his feet, and looked for the source of thesound with wild movements of his head. He could see nothing but themenacing shadows of a crowded forest. With a frightened glance over hisshoulder, he plunged into the thick of it, hoping to find a pathway tothe unknown freedom he sought.
He thrashed through the tangled vines for a small eternity, and thengave up with a sob. He fell against a tree trunk, dampening the barkwith his tears.
This time, the voice was quieter, but its tone was impatient.
"Keep going, keep going! To the right. The right!"
He clung to the tree as if for protection, and then, with a gasp,plunged once more into the darkness.
He found the clearing, to the right.
It was like an arena, with spectator trees, and with bright eyeswinking at him through the leaves.
There was a log to the left of the cleared green circle, and a frailyoung girl in torn clothing sat on it, huddled with either fear orcold. She was clutching something like an infant to her chest.
He came closer and saw that it was a broadsword. He paused.
"Who are you?" he said.
She looked up at him, her expression savage.
"You're here!" she said.
He took a step forward, and the voice spoke once more.
"Kill her and you go free."
"No!" he shouted.
"Kill him and go free," said the voice.
The girl put her head in her arms. Her shoulders shook.
He walked towards her and she s