 That's right. This tool broadcasting system presents the Mysterious Traveler, written, produced and directed by Robert A. Arthur and David Colton, starring one of radio's foremost actors, Cliff Carpenter, in Murder in 2952. This is the Mysterious Traveler inviting you to join me on another journey into the realm of the brains and the terrifying. If you will enjoy the trip, that it will thrill you a little and cheer you a little. So settle back, get a good grip on your nerves and be comfortable, if you can, as we leap a thousand years into the future to see how the forces of crime and detection may operate then. It's a story I call Murder in 2952. The date, the year 2952. Mankind has colonized the planet Venus and Mars, and is mining uranium on Mercury, while making trips of exploration to the more inhospitable celestial bodies, Saturn, Neptune, and the moons of Jupiter. But still, life is not so different from life today. There are still men and women, which means love, jealousy, hatred. And there are still crimes and criminals, which means a police force. People still live in houses, even though they're very different from the ones we know. In the living room of one of these houses, a young woman is playing an ancient trick called an ancient musical instrument to an appreciative audience of one. John Malawan, a field researcher for the World Biological Institute. What in the world is it? It's so different from the music I'm used to. It's at least a thousand years old, maybe older. I found this score in the musical section of the Library of Congress. You play it very well. Oh, I'm glad you think so. I hope Randy will like it. Randy Morgan? He doesn't go in much for music, does he? Randy doesn't go in for music at all. I wish he did. But it's just because he's never been exposed to it. He'll learn to like it yet. Any man would if you played it for him. I wish I could be here for the music competition. Nobody else will have anything like that thousand-year-old tune of yours. What's it called? Leave it, John. In one of the old languages, that's supposed to mean love's dream. Well, if Randy doesn't appreciate it, I'll personally blast him down. He'll be at the competition to hear you play, won't he? Oh, yes. He's promised, even though he hates music. I do wish he enjoyed something besides catching criminals. Well, that's his job. After all, he's the lieutenant of the world police in the planetary division. Yes, I know, but if only he didn't seem to enjoy it so much. Catching murderers and base pirates and... I'm being silly. He's nice. Sure he is. Also very handsome. Yes, he is, isn't he? Well, John, you'll be much longer if I'm getting short. Your dad is waiting for you. I'll be right in, sir. Guess I've got to say goodbye for a few months. I'll miss you, John. You've always had so much fun. Do be careful, won't you? The enemy is supposed to be such a horrible spot. I'll be careful. You know, there's a very rare plant growing there. It may do something for the one disease we can't cure. Old age. Well, give my best to Randy when you see him. Well, if you're gonna need me, John, I'm leaving the field clear for Lieutenant Randolph Morgan to marry my daughter. Well, I guess that's how it is, Professor Fergus. She's in love with him. He's in love with an illusion, John. An illusion six feet tall, broad shoulder, beautiful teeth. An illusion that can dance to the Venusian jump perfectly. She thinks the illusion is a man. It's a very convincing illusion, Professor Fergus. Randy Morgan is everything that I'm not. I can't blame Trina for preferring him. Yes, you're a cerebrotonic type. Intelligent, skinny, stooped shoulder, near sighted, and twice the man, Randy Morgan. Well, thank you, Professor, but... I don't think you're being quite fair to Randy. After all, I... You know all about Morgan, John. I tell Trina, but women are one thing that haven't changed in the last thousand years. When they think they're in love, the devil himself can't convince them that they're wrong about a man. Well, I hope she's not wrong, sir. If I thought there was a chance for me... but I know there's not. I'm not so sure. What if Morgan were out of the way? What do you mean, sir? I've been quietly investigating. I have some facts that would get him dismissed from the service. Maybe jailed. The one thing he's a dream apple addict. Randy eats Martian dream apples? Can't be, sir. By those things, they're worse than heroin or cocaine. I have the proof. Sir John, Randy Morgan may be removed from the scene after all. Professor Fergus... Yes, John? Take my word for it. You'll just make Trina hate you. She'll believe all the evidence was framed. Framed? That old word meaning falsified. She's in love. You yourself said a woman in love can believe no wrong about a man. Nevertheless, I'm going to the authorities. So, John, if you could possibly stay on earth for a few weeks. I wish I could. The reason I'm getting me won't wait. I have to blast off tonight. Goodbye, sir. I'll be back as soon as I possibly can. 39,308 meters per second. And it's the after that trajectory of beta over 3. And the force field curve of the... Professor Fergus? John, you've come back, but where? No. No! This is my final transcribe report on my 47th day in the Scandinavian jungle. I'm almost ready to blast off. But an hour ago, a small police rocket sat down in the dense jungle about half a mile away. And now I see a man approaching. He seems familiar. He looks like... Why, it's Randy Morgan. I hide out. What do you mean? He's a very clever old man. He's taken me five weeks to track you down in this planetary jungle. What do you mean, track me down? I'm here on an official mission. That's what I mean by very clever. It gave you the perfect excuse for hiding in a rotten jungle. Randy, are you waggy? I'm not hiding. Oh, no. Most murderers do hide, you know. Murderers? Listen, Randy, I'm officially placing you under arrest for the murder of Professor Fergus just before you blasted off from Earth. Professor Fergus murdered? If this is some kind of a joke... This stun gun is no joke. Make a move to resist and I'll paralyze you. You're crazy. So you are a Dream Apple addict. I warned you. Don, you can see and hear, but you can't move. I'm bringing my patrol rocket over here and loading you on board. You're going back to Earth with me in chains. And I rather think that you'll wind up in the old-fashioned death chamber for committing willful murder. Who take every muscle in my body? Coming out of it, are you? Those are muscle cramps from the stun gun paralysis, John, in case you've never had them before. Oh, I never have. Suppose you've dealt them out often, though? A few hundred times, that's all. Here's something to make you forget your troubles. Catch! What is it? Just a little fresh fruit. Make you feel better. Fresh fruit? It's one pound of dynamite. This is a Martian Dream Apple. So what? It'll take away your ache, make you feel like a million credit. Here, I'm having one, see? Wouldn't harm a baby. So Professor Fergus was right. You are an addict. Oh, Fergus was in his second childhood. By the way, what was your motive for killing him? For killing him. Randy, what is this all about? Is Professor Fergus really dead? You should know you're bashed in his head with a rocket control lever from your own rocket. That's nonsense. He was fine when I left him. Now, what happened? Keep it up, John. It's a good impersonation of innocence. But all the same, that chain around your ankle doesn't get unlocked until we blast in on Earth. Very ingenious way to keep me confined. I can't quite reach you. Or the rocket control board. But I still have some freedom. No, I can see this chain won't come off. All right, I'm not going to make any fuss. Now, tell me what happened. Well, half an hour after you went into her father's library, Trina heard a groan and a thaw. She hurried in and there was the poor old boy dead on the floor. She ran to the front door, screening for help, and I was just coming up the wall. I had a date to see her, fortunately, and I took charge of the case. I can just see it. Amazing how you just happened to be there. Very lucky, wasn't it? Now, Fergus was dead, but I had some of our technical crew bring over our finest instruments. With the atomic pressure recorder, we analyzed the stresses still present in the molecules of the air in the room. We were able to reconstruct Fergus' last words before he died. And what were they? I took off a recording and brought it along so you'd see that your case was hopeless. Here, I'll play it for you. Here you have it, John. Testimentary evidence by the victim himself to your guilt. How did you fool him, Randy? How did you make him think it was I? Well, John, I don't know what you mean. You go in for amateur theatrical. It gives you a chance to show off that handsome physique. Easy for you to imitate my voice well enough to fool a deaf old man. A pretty weak defense, John. You'll really have to do better than that. He did have evidence that would get you court-martialed so you'd kill him. And being a world police officer, it was easy enough to falsify the evidence to make me look guilty, especially since you assumed charge of the case a world police officer falsified evidence. My John, you know we are absolutely incorruptible. Until you start using dream apples, after that the ordinary rules don't apply. Dream apples remove all moral sense, give delusions of grandeur, and eventually cause hopeless insanity. They're perfectly harmless as you'll see when you eat that one I gave you. I'll never eat it, Randy. I think you will. It's a three-week trip back to Earth, and you're getting nothing else to eat or drink. By the time we blast in, you'll want nothing else. It won't work. I'll hold out. Against hunger maybe, but not against thirst. Two days from now you'll eat it. After all, why not? If you're going to die, you might as well die happy. You've constructed a very tight case against me, haven't you? I think it'll hold up. The burger is dying words, and the weapon, which we found in the bushes between the house and your rocket. Your spare rocket control handle. Which you must have stolen. But one thing you haven't got, that's a motive. John, by the time we hit Earth, you're going to be a confirmed dream apple addict. And dream apple addicts don't need motives. Remember? Give me a drink of water. I'm thirsty. Oh, awake again? And thirsty? How about a nice, juicy, Martian apple? All right, forget it. I'll die of thirst first. And I have a hard time explaining how a prisoner came to die of thirst while in your charge. Now, John, you don't think I'll let a prisoner die. It isn't done in the world, police. Oh, no, when you're weak from thirst, I'll just pour a little dream apple juice between your lips and you'll swallow automatically. It's a very easy technique. I see. You're about eight times as rotten as I ever imagined. Karina doesn't think so. We're going to be married after your trial. Thanks, rat. If I could reach you... Now, easy, old boy, easy. You'll sprain an ankle, and that chain won't break. And suppose you could reach me, I can handle you with one hand and you know it, maybe. But if I could reach that control board, what would you do? Well, that depends on where we are. I don't mind telling you. I'm going to make a brief landing. A landing? A Calypso? Are you crazy? Calypso is one fast swamp. And the swamp is full of surgeon birds. I know. Charming fellows, the surgeon birds. Five feet tall, shaped roughly like human beings, covered with feathers, and each one with eyes all around its head. Each one having four arms that end in ten flexible tentacles. Rather startling to look at, but such interesting tricks they have. Tricks. Their favorite hobby is to cut up face-wrecked human beings and fill them back together again. A new way. Did you read about the poor devil? They gave an extra pair of arms, too, salvaged from a ship made or was killed when their scout rocket crashed on Calypso? Of course. And I actually know a space police officer who fell into their hands. Just for fun, they mixed up his taste and hearing nerves. Now, when he eats Stirline steak, he hears music. And when he hears a bird chirping, he takes chocolate ice cream. He's genius, what? I know that Earth has warned them any more tricks on space-wrecked rocket men and will bomb their villages. But to actually risk landing among... Relax, you worry too much. They promise to be good, and some of them have learned to talk English after a fashion. And they have a new hobby, raising green apples. So that's where the supply is coming. Yes, a nice, secret little plantation. We're going to load aboard a supply. Only, of course, the authorities back home are going to think you were smuggling them in. Oh, no, Randy. Oh, yes, Johnny Boy. You're sewed up three ways from Sunday. You really have me, though. I think so. I kept hoping, but... I guess I'm licked. Okay. What you used to struggle. Give me a dream apple. I'll be happy for now anyway. Now you're being sensible. Here's a nice, juicy one. Here, catch. Okay. Ah, just right. Hey, if you throw that thing at me... I'm not going to throw it at you. I'm throwing it at that little button on the board marked full acceleration, like this. Wait a minute. I can't move. Right. So, I know it. They'll both be killed. Anyway, I'll take you with me. To the world. And three to... one last good turn. Full acceleration. But what about the other man? Randy is dead. But I'm still framed into a murder charge. Excuse me. We are going to hide. We do not want to be punished. But I tell you, you won't be punished for saving my life. I'll leave until your friends come. But listen, I know... I know you can't... Look, you don't make sense that you... Goodbye. You're a superior officer. Superior officer? Of course. What's wrong, Randy? Don't you remember that you're Lieutenant Randy Morgan? Me? Randy Morgan? Look, are you crazy or am I? I'm John Mallowan. You're the one who's crazy. Mallowan is dead. John Mallowan dead, but... The grave outside when we landed an hour ago. Been searching for your rocket for days, you know. You found John Mallowan's grave? You're sure? Of course. We checked. He all right. Badly smashed up from the crash, though. But it was me who was badly... These aren't mine. You're still groggy, Randy. I understand it must have been rough. My things. I better call the doctor and I haven't give you a sedative, Randy. You're in bad shape. It may be a form of amnesia. No, no, no. No, wait. It was those surgeon birds. Do you realize what they've done? From the evidence operated on you won't save your life. This time I guess we won't punish them. No, but... But more than that, that... Uh... Captain Phillips. Uh... But I have just a couple of minutes to, uh, pull myself together. Then I'll, uh... I'll be all right. I promise. Of course, Randy. I'll bring you a drink. You can use one. Yes. I'll be back in a minute. These hands, Randy's hands. My face. My body. Randy's face. His body. I'm Randy now. Me, John Mallowan. Bird. They found my body smashed. His brain damaged. They couldn't resist an experiment. They put my brain in Randy's body. I'm Lieutenant Randy Morgan and John Mallowan. Framed into an airtight murder charge is dead. The case is closed. Presigned from the world, Greece. Feeling better, Randy? I'm whisking. It'll do you good. Thanks. Well, I feel better now. Good. For a minute, I was worried about you. Oh, by the way, there's a call from Earth waiting for you. I brought the field transmitter. You can talk to her here in private if you want. Sir? I think you know who I mean. I'll be outside. Bring the transmitter along. Certainly, sir. Hello? Trina. Yes, yes, I'm fine. Yes, Trina. The guilty man has paid for his crime. As fast as the rocket can make it. I have a lot to tell you. Some things to explain to you. I'll be right back. Yes, Trina. You'll find that I'm a little changed. But I think you'll like to change. The operation was a great success. Dear me, that's the most original method of escaping from a false murder charge I ever heard of. To exchange bodies with the man who framed you. But don't try to make use of it. You'll have to wait a thousand years before it'll be practical. Of course, sir, if you have the time and don't mind waiting, then... Oh, you have to get off here. I'm sorry. I'm sure we'll meet again. I take this same train every week at the same time. You have just heard the Mysterious Traveler. Now you can enjoy other tense and exciting stories of the Mysterious Traveler in the current issue of the Mysterious Traveler magazine, all available. In our cast, with Chuck Webster, Gene Carson, Sidney Paul, and Robert Dunnley, with Maurice Tarplin starred in the title role. Music is under the direction of Emerson Buckley, composed by Richard E. Page. All characters in our story were fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons in the name or otherwise is purely coincidental. Bill Tonkin speaking, this program came to you from New York. And was transcribed.