SUMMER SNOW STORM By ADAM CHASE _Snow in summer is of course impossible. Any weather expert will tell you so. Weather Bureau Chief Botts was certain no such absurdity could occur. And he would have been right except for one thing. It snowed that summer. _ It was, as the expression goes, raining cats and dogs. Since the WeatherBureau had predicted fair and warmer, the Weather Bureau was notparticularly happy about the meteorological state of affairs. No one, however was shocked. Until it started to snow. This was on the twenty-fifth of July in the U. S. A. .. . Half an hour before the fantastic meteorological turn of events, BureauChief Botts dangled the forecast sheet before Johnny Sloman's bloodshoteyes and barked, "It's all over the country by now, you dunderhead!"Then, as an afterthought: "Did you write this?" "Yes, " said Sloman miserably. Slowly, Botts said, "Temperature, eighty degrees. Precipitationexpected: snow. _Snow_, Sloman. Well, that's what it says. " "It was a mistake, Chief. Just--heh-heh--a mistake. " "The prediction should have been for fair and warmer!" Botts screamed. "But it's raining, " Sloman pointed out. "We make mistakes, " said Botts in a suddenly velvety voice. Then, as if_that_ had been a mistake, bellowed: "But not this kind of mistake, Sloman! Snow in July! We have a reputation to maintain! If not foraccuracy, at least for credulity. " "Yes, sir, " said Johnny Sloman. One of the troubles was, he had ahangover. Although, actually, that was a consequence of the realtrouble. The real trouble was his fiancee. Make that his ex-fiancee. Because last night Jo-Anne had left him. "You--you're just going noplace at all, Johnny Sloman, " she had said. "You're on a treadmilland--not even running very fast. " She had given him back thequarter-carat ring tearfully, but Johnny hadn't argued. Jo-Anne had astubborn streak and he knew when Jo-Anne's mind was made up. So Johnnyhad gone and gotten drunk for the first time since the night aftercollege graduation, not too many years ago, and the result was anationally-distributed forecast of snow. Chief Botts' first flush of anger had now been replaced by self-pity. His red, loose-jowled face was sagging and his eyes became watery as hesaid, "At least you could have double-checked it. As a member of thisBureau you only have to fill out the forecast once every ten days. Isthat so hard? Is there any reason why you should predict snow for July25th?" His voice became silky soft as he added, "You realize, of course, Sloman, that if this was anything but a civil service job you'd be outon your ear for a stunt like this! Well, there are other ways. I canpass over you for promotion. I _intend_ to pass over you until thecrack of doom. You'll be a GS-5 the rest of your working life. Are yousatisfied, Sloman? Snow in July . .. " Chief Botts' voice trailed off, theChief following it. Johnny sat with his head in his hands until Harry Bettis, the GS-5weatherman who shared his small office with him, came in. Naturally, hangover or no, Johnny had reported for work first. Johnny was alwaysfirst in the office, but it didn't seem to do any good. Now, HarryBettis could come in an hour late and read the funnies half the day andflirt with the secretarial staff the other half and still be ChiefBotts' odds-on favorite for the promotion that was opening next month. Harry Bettis was like that. He came in and gave Johnny the full treatment. First the slow spreadingsmile. Then the chuckle. Then the loud, roaring belly-laugh. "Galsoutside told me!" he shouted, loud enough so the girls outside wouldknow he knew they had told him. "Snow! Snow in July! Sloman, you killme! You really do!" "Do you have to shout?" Johnny said. "Do I? We all ought to shout this. To the rooftops! Sloman, my foot. You have a new name, sonny. Snowman! Johnny Snowman. " [Illustration: Thick mud held him while terror ravened at his heels. ] Johnny groaned. Instinctively, he knew the name would stick. "Hear you had a little trouble with the gal-friend this past p. M. , "Harry Bettis clucked in a voice which managed to be both derisive andsympathetic. "How did you find out?" Johnny asked, but knew the answer at once. Jo-Anne was a roommate of one of the Bureau Secretaries. It was howJohnny had met her. "You know how I found out, Snowman. Well, that's tough luck, kiddo. Buttell me, does that mean the field is wide open? I always thought yourgal-friend--your _ex_-gal-friend--had the cutest pair of--" "I have nothing to do with whether the field is open or not open, I'mafraid. " "Well, don't be. Afraid, I mean, " Harry Bettis advised jovially. "If thegal could make you pull a boner like that, you're better off withouther. But I forgot to ask Maxine: can I have little Jo-Anne's phonenumber? Huh, boy?" Before Johnny could answer, the three-girl staff of secretaries enteredthe small office. Entered--and stared. "That's all right, girls, " Harry Bettis said. "You didn't have to followme in here. I'd have been right out. " But they weren't staring at Harry Bettis. They were staring at Johnny. Their mouths had flapped open, their eyes were big and round. Johnnydidn't, but Harry Bettis knew that look on a girl's face. Without anytrouble at all, Johnny could have made any of those girls, right there, right then, without even trying. They gawked and gawked. One of them pointed at the window. The otherstried to, but their hands were trembling. The one who was pointing squawked: "Look!" The second one said, "Out the window!" The third one said, "Will you!" Outside the window on the twenty-fifth of July it was snowing. * * * * * It was an hour later. Telephones were ringing. Long-distance calls fromall over the country now that the ticker had gone out with theincredible fact that it was snowing in the Northeast in July. Most ofthe calls, though, were from Washington. Chief Botts disconnected thePBX and walked in a dazed, staggering fashion to Johnny, smiling weaklyand saying: "Sloman, I misjudged you. Genius, right here, right now, in this office, and we never knew it. Sloman, I have to admit I was wrong about you. Buthow did you know? How did you ever know?" "Hell's bells, " Harry Bettis said before Johnny could say it was all amistake. "That's easy, Chief. Anyone knows that _all_ rain starts out assnow. It's got to. You see, the droplets of moisture in the cold upperregions of a cloud condense around dust particles because the air upthere is too cold to hold them as vapor. Since it's below freezing, snowis formed--snow which warms up as it passes through hotter air en routeto the ground, and--" "That will be quite enough, Bettis, " Chief Botts said. "I am aweatherman too, you know. You don't have to tell me the most elementaryof--" "In this case, Chief, " Bettis persisted, "the biggest inversion layeryou ever saw kept the surface air down and brought the cold upper airvery close to the surface. Result: the snowflakes didn't have a chanceto melt, not even to freezing rain. Result: snow!" "The chances of that happening, " said Chief Botts coldly, "are about onein a billion. Aren't they, Sloman, dear fellow?" "One in two billion, " Johnny said. "He _is_ modest, " Chief Botts told the staff. "He seems so unconcerned. " Just then Maxine came into the little office. The look of awe on herface had been replaced by one of sheer amazement. "Well, I checked it, Chief, " she said. "Wait until I tell Jo-Anne!" "Won't you please tell us first?" Chief Botts asked. "Yes, sir, " said Maxine, and read from the memo pad in her hand. "Sincecoming to work for the Bureau, Johnny Sloman has once every ten daysmade our official forecast. I have checked back on his forecast, Chief, as you directed. Johnny has made fifty-five forecasts. While only one ofthem--startlingly--has called for snow in July--every single one of themhas been right. " There was a shocked silence. "But--but the Weather Bureau average isonly eighty-eight percent!" Harry Bettis gasped. "You mean, " Chief Botts corrected him, "eighty-eight percent is thefigure we try to foist on the unsuspecting public. Actually, the WeatherBureau averages a bare seventy-five percent, and you know it. " "But Sloman's got a hundred percent accuracy--up to and including snowin July, " Harry Bettis said in a shocked voice. "It was only an accident, " Johnny said in a mild voice. "I didn't meanto write snow. " "Accident, smaccident, " said Harry Bettis. "It was no accident with arecord like that. You have the uncanny ability to forecast weather withcomplete accuracy, Johnny-boy. You realize what that means, old pal?" "I'd better call Washington and tell them, " Chief Botts said, but HarryBettis held his arm while Johnny mused: "I guess I realize what it means, Harry. That is, if you're right. Nomore getting wet on picnics. Because I'd know. I'd know, Harry. No moregoing to ball games and having them rained out on you. No more beingcaught by a thunderstorm at the beach . .. " "Johnny!" Harry Bettis said. "Think, pal. Think!" "I'm calling Washington, " Chief Botts said. "This is too much for me. " But Harry Bettis was still holding his arm. "Now, just a minute, bucko, "he said. "You're not calling anyone--not without his manager'spermission. " "Whose manager's permission?" "Why, Mr. Sloman's manager's permission, of course. In a word, me. " "This is preposterous!" Chief Botts cried. "Is it?" Bettis asked. "Listen, Johnny, don't let anyone sell you a billof goods--like the Civil Service Commission giving you a GS-8 rating andsending you to Washington. Because stick with me, kid, and there'll begreat things in store for you, you'll see. " "Such, " said Maxine dubiously, "as what?" "Are you on our side?" Harry Bettis asked her suspiciously. "I'm on Jo-Anne's side. If old Johnny here has something she ought tohave, I want to know it. " * * * * * "You mean, if she ought to change her mind and marry him? I'll admit iteven if I think Jo-Anne's a real cute trick: she'd be nuts if shedidn't. " Women, Harry Bettis did not add, never came between HarryBettis and ten percent of a gold mine. But that's what he was thinking. He went on: "Just think of it, Johnny. Drought in the Midwest. They callSloman. Sloman predicts rain. It rains. Have any idea what they'd payfor a stunt like that? Or swollen rivers in New England, or California. Looks like another big flood is on the way, but they call Sloman. Lookslike rain, kiddo? That don't matter. Predict a dry spell and it won'train. Do you know, " Harry Bettis said in a devout whisper, "what a stuntlike that would be worth? Millions. " "Yeah, wise guy, " said Maxine. "So what's in it for you?" Harry Bettis did not look at Maxine when he answered. He looked atJohnny and said, "I'll be frank, kiddo. You have the talent, but youdon't have the salesmanship to promote it. Do you want a mediocre jobwhile the weather boys exploit you for the rest of your life or--do youwant greatness, riches, and Jo-Anne?" "Jo-Anne, " Johnny said. Harry Bettis nodded. "My price is twenty-five percent. " "Of Jo-Anne?" Maxine asked suspiciously. "Of everything Johnny makes as the world's first _real_ Weather Man. Nota forecaster--a commander. Because when my client forecasts the weather, it happens. Brothers and sisters, it happens. " He turned abruptly toJohnny, said, "You have any money saved up?" "A few hundred dollars, but--" "An ad in the papers. Alongside the article telling how it snowed onJuly twenty-fifth. Saying that your services are for hire. We're ashoo-in, kid!" "Well, if you say so, " Johnny said doubtfully. "So don't call D. C. , " Bettis told Chief Botts. "But Sloman's an employee of this Bureau. " "Was, you mean. " "What did you say?" "Was an employee. He ain't an employee now. He's quitting--with hismanager, " said Harry Bettis, and walked out of the office, steering adazed Johnny Sloman with him. "Wait until I call Jo-Anne, " Maxine said. During the next six months, Johnny Sloman--known to the world as TheWeather Man--made fifty million dollars. Since it had taken a wholelifetime for him to develop his remarkable talent, his lawyers weretrying to have capital gains declared on the earnings rather thanstraight income tax. The odds seemed to be in their favor. How had Johnny made his fifty million dollars? By predicting theweather. He predicted: A flood in the Texas panhandle--in time to save the dry lands from goingentirely arid. An end of the snowstorms in northern Canada--which had trapped the fivehundred residents of a small uranium-mining town without food oradequate drinking water. The break-up of Hurricane Anita--which had threatened to be the mostdestructive ever to strike the Carolina Coast. No frost for Florida that winter--a prediction still to be ascertained, but a foregone conclusion. Every prediction had come true. In time, the world began to realize thathis predictions were not predictions at all: they were sure things. Thatis, they predicted nothing--they _made_ things happen. Johnny was indemand everywhere and naturally could not fill all engagements. HarryBettis hired a whole squad of corresponding secretaries, whose job itwas to turn down, with regret, some ninety percent of the jobsrequested. Johnny, in fact, was in such demand, that his engagement toJo-Anne--which, of course, had been reinstated at her insistence--remainedonly an engagement. The nuptials were put off, and put off again. This suited Harry Bettis, who saw to it that Johnny kept putting off themarriage. Because, ultimately, Jo-Anne would reach the end of herproverbial tether and decide that Harry's twenty-five percent, if itcould be shared as a wife, was better than Johnny's seventy-fivepercent, if it could not. Jo-Anne, though, was not that kind of girl. Harry Bettis, knowing noother kind of girl, never understood that. The scientists, meanwhile, had a field day with Johnny. His strangetalent obeyed no natural law, they said, and at first attributed it torandom chance. Soon, though, this became patently impossible. And so anew natural law was sought. All types of hair-brained theories wereproposed, none of them accepted, until an osteopathic physician inDuluth, Minn. , hit upon the theory that staggered the world with itssimplicity and, eventually, was accepted as that which explained thestrange phenomenon of Johnny Sloman. The osteopath, many of whose patients suffered from rheumatism which wasaggravated by the bitter Minnesota winters, suggested that Johnny Slomanwas a case of rheumatism in reverse. The weather, he pointed out, had anadverse effect upon the symptoms of his patients. Conversely, whycouldn't some human being--a Johnny Sloman, for example--affect theweather in precisely the same way that the weather invariably affectedhis rheumatic patients? It was clear, simple, lucid. It was the only theory which could not bedisproven by the weight of scientific knowledge. It thus became theaccepted theory. * * * * * "The Under-Secretary of Defense to see you, " Maxine said one day duringthe winter following Johnny's July snowfall. "Don't see him, " Harry Bettis said. "You don't want to see him. " "But why not?" Johnny asked. "Because they'll make you a dollar-a-year man and we're not in this tomake any stinking dollar a year, " Harry Bettis said. "Well, I think I ought to see him, anyway. At least see him. " He turnedto Jo-Anne, who was sitting at the next desk, writing up some reports. "What do you think, Jo?" "If the country needs you, Johnny, " she said, "it's your duty to help. " Johnny told Maxine, "Show the Under-Secretary in, please. " He was a small man with a big brief case. He spoke slowly, earnestly, backing up his statements with reams of paper from the brief case. TheDefense Department had not contacted Johnny right away, he said, becausethey wanted to compile all the facts. They had all the facts now. Johnny Sloman could be the biggest single factor for peace the world hadever known. Item. In the event of aggression, he could so bog down the aggressor'ssupply lines and troop movements with continuous rains and snowstormsthat it would be all but impossible for the aggressor to maintainhostilities. Item. In the event that such tactical weather-war failed, he could causea drought in the aggressor's food-producing regions, forcing theaggressor to surrender or face starvation. Item. He could always, conversely, see to it that the defensive force'ssupply lines were never hampered by the weather and that theprecipitation over the defensive country's breadbasket was ideal. Item. He could render aggressor communication difficult with heavy fogand/or icy roads. Item. He could cover defensive troop movements with low, dense clouds. In short, concluded the Under-Secretary, Johnny Sloman could be aone-man world police-force practically guaranteeing peace. He stoppedtalking. He looked at Johnny. His eyes said, the call of duty is clear. Harry Bettis said, "Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Secretary. Naturally, we'll think about what you said. " "Think about it!" gasped the Under-Secretary. "Think about it!" "My client is a busy man--the busiest man in his field, " Harry Bettissaid. The Under-Secretary smiled bleakly. "The only man in his field, youmean. That's why we need him. " "We'll send you a report in a few weeks, " Harry said indifferently, "after we've had an opportunity to study the situation. " "But, Harry--" Johnny began. "Johnny, " Harry said. He did not have to finish the statement. It hadhappened before--"Johnny, I've made you a tremendous success. I'm yourmanager, aren't I? Let's leave it that way. " "If Johnny thinks he ought to help--" Jo-Anne said. "Now, Jo-Anne, " Harry Bettis scolded, and led the Under-Secretary to thedoor. * * * * * Three days later, the assistant chief of the F. B. I. Came to see them. "We regret this, Sloman, " he said. "You regret what?" Harry Bettis asked. "Defense allowed a report on its findings out. That was unwise. We'llhave to give you around-the-clock protection, Sloman. " "Protection from what?" Johnny wanted to know. "Enemy agents. The enemy is desperate. At all costs, according to theirintelligence reports, they're out to get you. " "Get him?" said Harry Bettis. "You mean, kill him?" "I mean, get him. Get him on their side. Because everything Johnny coulddo for the forces of peace and democracy, he could be made to do forthe forces of aggression. You see?" "Yes, " said Johnny. "No, " said Harry Bettis. "This sounds like a government trick--to makeJohnny go to work. To make him think it's his patriotic duty--" "Well, " said Jo-Anne sharply, "isn't it?" Harry Bettis smiled. "When he gets as big as Universal Motors, he canbecome patriotic. " "Mr. Sloman, " the assistant F. B. I. Chief said, "they will either try tokidnap you outright, or work on you through someone you love. Therefore, our bodyguards--" "Well, let them keep their distance, that's all, " Bettis said. "Bad forbusiness. Nobody wants enemy agents hanging around. " "That's your final decision?" the F. B. I. Man asked. "Well--" began Johnny. "Yes, it's our final decision, " said Harry Bettis, showing the F. B. I. Man to the door. "I don't think you should have done that, " Johnny said after he hadgone. "You just make the weather, Johnny-boy. I'll take care of business. " "Well--" said Johnny. "Johnny!" cried Jo-Anne. "Oh, Johnny! Why don't you act like a man?" Andshe ran from the room, slamming the door. After that, Johnny didn't see her again. She was gone. Really gone, for certain, not simply walking off in a huff. Two weeks later, Johnny got the letter--unofficial--from the Enemy. * * * * * The F. B. I. Was sympathetic, but the Chief said, "You can understand, Mr. Sloman, how our hands are tied. It is not an official letter. We can'tprove anything. We don't doubt it for a minute, of course. The cold warenemy has kidnapped your fiancee and taken her to their motherland. But--we can't prove it. Not being able to prove it, we can't do a thingabout it. You're aware, of course, of how readily the rest of the worldcondemns our actions. Not that they wouldn't be on our side if we couldprove that this kidnap letter was the real thing, but you realize wewon't be able to prove it at all. " "Oh, " said Johnny. He went home. He saw Harry Bettis, who said he wasshocked. The note read: Mr. Johnny Sloman: We have Miss Jo-Anne Davis here in the motherland. The only way she can live a normal life here is if you join her and work for us. We believe you know what the other kind of life is like here. Bettis said, "It stumps the hell out of me, Johnny. " "I'm just waking up, " said Johnny slowly. "In a way, it's your fault. " "Now, don't be a jackass, Johnny. " Jackass or no, Johnny hit him. His knuckles went crunch and HarryBettis' nose went crunch and Bettis fell down. He lay there, his nosenot looking so good. Now, when it was apparently too late, Johnny knew what his course ofaction should have been. Get rid of the money-grubbing Bettis. Go towork for the government unselfishly. Insure world peace. Too late . .. Too late . .. Because unless he could somehow save Jo-Anne, he would never predict theweather again--for anyone. * * * * * "But what you ask is impossible!" the Secretary of Defense said a fewdays later. "If I come back, if I'm successful, " Johnny said quietly, "I'm yourman, for as long as you want me, without pay. " "You mean that?" the Secretary asked slowly. "I mean it. " The Secretary nodded grimly, touched a button on his desk. "Get me AirForce Chief of Staff Burns, " he said, and, a moment later: "Bernie?Chuck here. We need a plane. A jet-transport to go you-know-where. Cargo? One man, in a parachute. Can you manage it? Immediately, if notsooner. Good boy, Bernie. No . .. No, I'm sorry, I can't tell you a thingabout it. " The Secretary cut the connection, turned to Johnny: "You leave this afternoon, Sloman. You realize, of course, there isn't athing we can do to get you out. Not a thing. " "Yes, " said Johnny. "You're a very brave man, or very much in love. " Hours later, the jet transport took off with Johnny in it. He came down near what had been the border of the motherland and Poland. He began to walk. A farmer and his son spotted the parachute, came afterhim. The son was a Red Army man on leave. The son had a gun. He firedprematurely, and Johnny ran. It was hopeless, he decided. He wouldnever make it. He would never even reach the capital alive, where theywere holding Jo-Anne. He ran. He wished for rain. A blinding rainstorm. The clouds scudded in. Therain fell in buckets. The farmer and his son soon lost sight of Johnny. Just to make sure, Johnny ran and let it go on raining. * * * * * "Floods in their motherland, " the Secretary of Defense told thePresident. "Naturally, their news broadcasts are trying to keep thereports to a minimum, but these are the biggest floods we've ever heardof over there. " "Our man is there?" the President asked. "He was dropped by parachute, sir!" * * * * * It was snowing when Johnny reached the capital. He had been parachutedinto the enemy's motherland, naturally, because propinquity aloneassured the success of his strange talent. He was tired. His feet ached. He'd been the only one heading for thecapital. Hundreds of thousands had been fleeing from the floods . .. "There he is!" a voice cried in the enemy language. He didn't understandthe language, but he understood the tone. His picture had been flashedacross the length and breadth of the motherland. He had been spotted. He ran. Down an alley, across a muddy yard, floundering to his knees, then his thighs, in thick mud. They came floundering in pursuit. Theyfired a warning volley of shots. He stumbled and fell face down in theblack, stinking mud. They took him . .. * * * * * Dark room. One light, on his face. A voice: "We can kill you. " "Kill me, " he said. "My last wish will be for rain. Rain, forever. " "We can torture you. " "And I will say, before you start, let it rain and go on raining. Let mebe powerless to prevent it. Rain!" "We can kill the girl. " "Your country will float away. " A fist came at him out of the darkness. Hit him. It was tentativetorture. He sobbed and thought: rain, harder. Rain, rain, rain . .. Water seeped into the dungeon. This had never happened before. The fistwent away. Outside it rained and rained. * * * * * "What does he want, comrade?" "We don't know, comrade. " "Give it to him--whatever it is. He has disrupted our entire economy. Weface economic disaster unless he--and his rain--leave us in peace. " "Perhaps that is what he wants. Peace. " "You fool! We are supposed to want peace. Shut up!" "Yes, sir. Comrade. " "Better ask the party secretary. " "Yes, comrade. " The party secretary was asked. The party secretary sighed and nodded. Johnny saw the light of day. And Jo-Anne. * * * * * A month later, the Secretary of Defense told him. "Thanks to you, theyagreed to a German settlement, stopped sending arms to their Red ally inAsia, withdrew their promise of aid to the Arab fanatics, and havefreed all foreigners held in their motherland illegally. " Johnny listened, smiling at Jo-Anne. They had been married two weeks. Naturally, the enemy had been only too glad to see them leave. "Just stay available, Sloman, " the President beamed from alongside theSecretary of Defense. "As long as they know we can always send you overthere again, they'll never try anything. Right?" "Yes, sir, " said Johnny. They called him the Weather Man. They went on calling him the WeatherMan, although he retired more or less--except during cases of direemergency. The world called him that, the Weather Man. And, because he had retiredto enjoy life with his new wife, they began to suspect, as could beexpected, that he had been a fraud. But the enemy did not think so. Ever again. And that was enough for Johnny. THE END Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ October 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.