Mind Webs - Petrified Forest

A surreal sci-fi series exploring speculative concepts, dreams, and philosophical what-ifs. Each episode is a cerebral journey into the mind’s deepest questions.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:11):
My mind. We welcome to a half hour of mind

(00:54):
Web short stories from the world expect at Fiction. This
is Michael Hanson this half hour, and the story comes
from New Worlds of Fantasy number two, a collection put
together by Terry Carr. This is Robert Sheckley's The Petrified World.

(01:48):
Flanagan dreamed the dream again and managed to wake himself
with a hoarse cry. He sat up right in bed
and glared around him into the violet darkness. His teeth
clenched and his lips were pulled back into a spastic grin.
Beside him, he felt his wife, a Stelle, stir and
sit up. Lenigan didn't look at her, Still caught in

(02:09):
his dream, he waited for tangible proofs of the world.
A chair slowly drifted across his field of vision and
fetched up against the wall with a quiet thump. Lennigan's
face relaxed slightly, and then Stelle's hand was on his arm,
a touch meant to be soothing, but which burned like
LYE here, she said, here, drink this now, Lanagan said. Now,

(02:34):
I'm all right. Now drink it anyhow. Now, really, I
I really am all right for now. He was completely
out of the grip of the nightmare. He was himself again,
and the world was its habitual self. That was very
precious to Lenigan. He didn't want to let go of
it just now, not even for the soothing release of
a sedative. Was it the same dream? Yeah, yeah, just

(02:58):
the same. I don't want to talk about it all right,
she's humoring me, Lenigan thought, I've frightened her. I've frightened myself,
and she asked, Han, what time is it. Lanigan looked
at his watch six fifteen, but as he said it,
the hour hand jumped convulsively forward. No, and now it's

(03:23):
five to seven. Can you get back to sleep? I
don't think so. I think I'll stay up fine, dear
Estelle yawned, closed her eyes opened lit again, and asked, Han,
don't you think it might be a good idea if
you called and I have an appointment with him? Twelve? Ken,
that's fine and a Stelle closed her eyes again. Sleep

(03:45):
came over her, while Lenigan watched her. Auburn hair turned
to faint blue, and she sighed once heavily. Lanigan got
out of bed and dressed. He was, for the most
part a large man, unusually easy recognize his features were
curiously distinct, he had a rash on his neck. He

(04:06):
was in no other way outstanding, except that he had
a recurring dream which was driving him insane. He spent
the next few hours on his front porch watching stars
Gonova in the dawn sky. Later he went out for
a stroll. As luck would have it, he ran into
George Torstein just two blocks from his house several months ago,

(04:28):
and incautious moment, he had told Torsting about his dream.
Torstein was a bluff hearty fellow, a great believer in
self help, discipline, practicality, common sense, and other dull virtues.
His heart headed, no nonsense attitude had come as a
momentary relief to Lanigan, but now now it acted as
an abrasive. Men like Torsting were undoubtedly the salt of

(04:51):
the earth and the backbone of the country. But for Lanigan,
wrestling with the impalpable and losing Torstein had grown from
a nuisance into w horror. Torstein greeted him, well, Tom,
how's the boy fine? Just fine? Helanakan nodded pleasantly and

(05:11):
began to walk away under a melting green sky. But
one did not escape from Torsting so easily. Oh Tom boy,
I've been thinking about your problem. I've been quite disturbed
about you. Well that's very nice of you, but really
you shouldn't concern yourself. Well, I do it because I

(05:32):
want to. I take an interest in people, Tom, always
have ever since I was a kid, and you and
I have been friends and neighbors for a long time.
That's true enough, Lanigan said numbly. The worst thing about
needing help was having to accept it. Well, Tom, I

(05:54):
think what would really help you would be a little vacation.
Torsting had a simple prescription for everything. Since he practiced
soul doctoring without a license, he was always careful to
prescribe a drug you could buy over the counter. I
really can't AFFORDI vacation. This month the sky was ocre,

(06:15):
and think now three pines that withered an aged oak
had turned into a youthful cactus. Torsting laughed heartily. O
old boy, you can't afford not to take a vacation.
Just now, did you ever consider that, Tom? I know,
I guess not. Well, considerate you're tired, Tom, tents all

(06:38):
keyed up. You've been working too hard. I've been on
leave of absence all week. Flanagan glanced at his watch,
the gold case that turned the lead, but the time
seemed accurate enough. Nearly two hours had passed since he
had begun this conversation. Yeah, it isn't good enough. No,

(06:59):
you stayed right here in town, right close to your work.
You need to get in touch with nature, Tom, When
was the last time you went camping camping? I don't
think I've ever gone camping. There, you see, boy, You've
got to put yourself back in touch with real things.
Not streets and buildings, but you know, mountains and rivers.

(07:22):
Flanagan looked at his watch again and was relieved to
see it turned back to gold. He was glad he
paid sixty dollars for that case. Crees and likes, Tom,
the field of grass growing under your feet, the sight
of tall black mountains marching across the golden sky. Flanagan

(07:44):
shook his head. I've been in the country, Georgia. It
doesn't do anything for me. Torsteen was obstinate. You must
get away from artificialities. It all seems equally artificial trees
were buildings. What's the difference? Men make buildings, but God

(08:07):
makes trees. Flanigan had his doubts about both propositions, but
he wasn't going to tell them. Torsting, Eh, he might
have something there. Yeah, I'll think about it. You do that.
Well it happens. I know the perfect placetime. It's in
Maine and it's right near this little lake. Torsting was

(08:30):
a master of the interminable description. Luckily for Lanigan, there
was a diversion across the street. A house burst into flames. Hey,
whose house is at That's right, that's Makelebee's. That's his
third fire this month. Maybe we got to give the alarm. Yeah,
you're right, I'll do it myself. Remember what I told

(08:51):
you about that place in Maine. Tom Torsting turned to go,
and something rather humorous happened. As he stepped over the pavement,
the concrete liquefied under his left foot. Caught unawares, Torsten
went in ankle deep. His forward motion pitched him headfirst
into the street, and Tom hurried to help him out

(09:12):
before the concrete hardened. Again, Are you all right? I
twisted my damn ankle and it's okay though I can walk.
Torstein limped off to report the fire. Lanigan stayed and
watched he judged that the fire had been caused by
spontaneous combustion. In a few minutes, as he had expected,

(09:33):
it put itself out by spontaneous decombustion. One shouldn't be
pleased by another man's misfortunes, but Lannigan couldn't help chuckling
about Torstein's twisted ankle. Not even the sudden appearance of
floodwaters on Main Street could mar his good spirits. He
beamed at something like a steamboat with yellow stacks that

(09:57):
went by in the sky. Then he remembered his dream,
and the panic began again. He walked quickly to the
doctor's office. Doctor Sampson's office was small and dark this week.
The old gray sofa was gone in its place where
two Louis Khan's chairs and the hammock. The worn carpet

(10:19):
had finally rewoven itself, and there was a cigarette burn
on the puce ceiling. But the portrait of Andretti was
in its usual place on the wall, and the big
free for ash tray was scrupulously clean. The inner door
opened and doctor Sampson's head popped out. Hi He said

(10:40):
it won't be a minute. His head popped back in again,
Sampson was as good as his word. It took in
exactly three seconds by Lennigan's watch, to do whatever he
had to do. One second later, Lennigan was stretched out
on the leather couch with a fresh paper doily under
his head, and doctor Sampson was saying, Ah, well, Tom,
how have things been going? The same? Doctor, worse the dream?

(11:06):
Flanagan nodded, Eric, gush, run through it again. I'd rather
not afraid, more afraid than ever even now, yes, yeah,
especially now. There was a moment of therapeutic silence, and
then doctor Sampson said, you've spoken before you fear of

(11:28):
this dream, but you've never told me why you fear
it too much. Well, it sounds so silly. Sampson's face,
whose serious quiet composed the face of a man who
found nothing silly, who was constitutionally incapable of finding anything silly.
It was a pose, perhaps, but one which Lenagan found reassuring.

(11:51):
All right, I'll tell you, And then Lenagan stopped, go on, Well,
it's because I believe that that somehow, in some way
I don't understand, yesh, go on, well, that somehow the
world of my dream is becoming the real world. Flanagan
stopped again and then went on with a rush, and

(12:15):
that someday I'm going to wake up and find myself
in that world, and then that world will have become
the real one, and this world will be the dream.
He turned to see how this mad revelation had affected
Doctor Sampson. If the doctor was disturbed, he didn't show it.
He was quietly lighting his pipe with a smold ring
tip of his left forefinger. He blew out his forefinger

(12:37):
and said, yes, please go on, go on. But that's it,
that's that's the whole thing. A spot the size of
a quarter appeared on Samson's mauve carpet. It darkened, thickened,
grew into a small fruit tree. Samson picked one of
the purple pods, sniffed at them, and set it down

(12:58):
on his desk. And he looked at Linaga sternly, sadly.
You've told me about your dream world before, Tom Lanagan nodded,
and we've discussed to trace its origins, analyzed its meaning
for you. In past months. We've learned I believe why
you need to cripple yourself with this nightmare fear. Lanagan nodded,

(13:24):
unhappily yet you refuse the insights. You forget each time
that your dream world is a dream, nothing but a
dream operated barbitrary dream laws which you've invented to satisfy
your psychic needs. I wish I could believe that I
really do. The trouble is my dream world is so

(13:46):
damnably reasonable. Not at all, Tom, It's just that your
delusion is hermetic self inclosed self sustaining. A man's actions
are based upon certain assumptions about the nature of the world.
Grant his assumptions, and his behavior is entirely reasonable. But

(14:06):
to change those assumptions, those fundamental axioms is nearly impossible.
For example, how do you prove to a man that
he's not being controlled by a secret radio that only
he can hear. Yeah, I see the problem, and that's
me Yes, Tom. That in the fact is you you

(14:30):
want me to prove to you that this world is
real and that the world of your dream is false.
You propose to give up your fantasy if I supply
you with the necessary proofs. Yeah, that's it exactly, But
you see I can't supply them. The nature of the
world is apparent but unprovable. Lanagan thought for a while,

(14:55):
and he said, look, Doc, I'm not as sick as
a guy with a secret radio, am I. No, you're not.
You're You're more reasonable, more rational. You have doubts about
the reality of the world, but luckily you also have
doubts about the validity of well your delusion that Give
it a try. I understand your problem, doct But if

(15:16):
I swear to you all accept anything I can possibly
bring myself to accept. It's not my field. Really, this
sort of thing calls for a metaphysician. I don't think
I'd to be very skilled at it. Give it a try. Well,
all right, here goes Doctor Sampson's forehead wrinkled and said

(15:38):
as he concentrated, And then he said, it seems to
me that we inspect the world through our senses, and
therefore we must, in the final analysis, accept the testimony
of those senses. Flanagan nodded. The doctor went on, So
we know that a thing exists because our censors tell

(16:02):
us it exists. How do we check the accuracy of
our observations by comparing them with the sensory impressions of others.
We know that our sensors don't lie when other men's
senses agree upon the existence of the thing in question.
Glannagan thought about this and then said, therefore, the real

(16:24):
world is simply what most men think it is. Samson
twisted his mouth and said, I told you that metaphysics
was not my forts. Yet I still think it is
an acceptable demonstration. Yes, but Doc, suppose all of those

(16:45):
other observers are wrong. Now, for example, suppose there are
many worlds and many realities, not just one. Suppose this
is simply one arbitrary existence out of an infinity of existences.
Or pause, that the nature of reality itself is capable
of change, and that somehow I'm able to perceive that change.

(17:07):
Samson's side found a little green bat fluttering outside his
jacket and absent mindedly crushed it with a ruler. I
can't disprove a single one of your suppositions. I think
Tom that we had better run through the entire dream.

(17:30):
Lanigan grammaced, I really would rather not. I have a feeling.
I know you do. I know, Samson smiled faintly. But
this will prove or disprove it once and for all,
won't it. I guess. So Lanigan took courage unwisely and said, well,

(17:54):
the way it begins, the way my dream starts. Even
as he spoke, the horror came over him. He felt dizzy, sick, terrified.
He tried to rise from the couch. The doctor's face
ballooned over him. He saw a glint of metal, heard
Samson saying, just try to relax, relax brief see you

(18:14):
try to think you something pleasant. And then he said Janagan,
or the world or both passed out Lanigan and or
the world came back to consciousness time or may not
have passed anything, Mike, or might not have happened. Lanigan

(18:37):
sat up and looked at Samson. How do you fear now?
I'm all right? What happened? You had a bad moment.
Now take it easy for a bit. Lanigan leaned back
and tried to calm himself. The doctor was sitting at
his desk writing notes. Lanagan counted to twenty with his
eyes closed, and then opened them cautiously. Mpson was still

(19:00):
writing notes. Lnagan looked around the room, counted the five
pictures on the wall, recounted them, looked at the green carpet,
frowned that it. Closed his eyes again. This time he
counted to fifty. Well, I'm cared to talk about it now,
asked Samson, shutting a notebook. No, not just now. Five paintings,

(19:25):
green carpet, Well, just as you please. I think that
our time is just about uptown. But if you'd care
to lie down in the ante room, no thanks, I'll
head for home. He stood up, walked across the green
carpet to the door, looked back at the five paintings
and at the doctor, who smiled at him encouragingly. Then

(19:48):
Lanagan went through the door and into the ante room,
through the ante room to the outer door, and threw
that down the corridor to the stairs, and down the
stairs to the street. He walked and looked at the trees,
which green leaves moved faintly and predictably in a faint breeze.
There was traffic which moved soberly down one side of
the street, and at the other. The sky was an

(20:10):
unchanging blue, and had obviously been so for quite some time.
Green He pinched himself a dream pinch. He did not awaken.
He shouted m an imaginary shout. He did not awaken.
He was in the street of the world of his nightmare.

(20:34):
The street at first seemed like any normal city Street.
There were paving, stones, cars, people, buildings, a sky overhead,
a sun in the sky, all perfectly normal, except nothing
was happening. The pavement never once yielded beneath his feet.

(20:54):
Over there was the first National City Bank. It had
been there yesterday, which was ba enough. But worse, it
would be there without fail tomorrow, and the day after that,
and the year after that. The First National City Bank,
proounded eighteen ninety two, was grotesquely devoid of possibilities. It

(21:14):
would never become a tomb an airplane, the bones of
a prehistoric monster. Sullenly, it would remain a building of
concrete and steel, madly persisting in its fixity. Into the
men with tools came tediously toward down. Lanagan walked through
this petrified world, under a blue sky that oozed a

(21:35):
sly white around the edges, teasingly promising something that was
never delivered. Traffic moved implacably to the right. People crossed
at crossings. Clocks were within minutes of agreement. Somewhere beyond
the town lay countryside. But Lanigan knew that the grass

(21:56):
did not grow under one's feet. It simply lay still growing,
no doubt, but imperceptibly unusable to the senses, and the
mountains were still tall and black, but they were giants
stopped in mid stribe they would never march against a
golden or purple or green sky. The essence of life,

(22:19):
doctor Sampson, had once said his change, the essence of
death is immobility. Even a corpse has a vestige of
life about it, as long as its flesh rots, as
long as maggot still feast on its blind eyes, and
blow flies sucked the juice from the burst intestines. Flanagan
looked around at the corpse of the world and perceived

(22:43):
that it was dead. He screamed. He screamed while people
gathered around and looked at him, but didn't do anything
or become anything. And then a policeman came as he
was supposed to, but the sun didn't change shape once.
And then an ambulance came down the invariant street, but

(23:04):
without trumpets, minus trumpets on four wheels instead of pleasing
three or twenty five. And the ambulance men brought him
to a building which was exactly where they expected to
find it. And there was a great deal of talk
by people who stood untransformed asking questions in a room
with relentlessly white walls. And there was evening and there

(23:30):
was morning, and it was the first day. From the

(24:36):
volume New Worlds of Fantasy, number two, an ACE book
edited by Kerry Carr. That was The Petrified World, a
story by Robert Checkley. This is Michael Hanson, Technical operation
for this program by Bob cham mind webs is a
production of WHA Radio in Madison, the service of University

(24:59):
of Wisconsin Extension.

Speaker 2 (26:03):
To sing A s S.

Speaker 3 (27:08):
When when you.

Speaker 4 (27:56):
Stop people world.

Speaker 2 (29:14):
Still you will you we we wields