Fair and Warmer

Transcriber's note: This e-text was produced from If Worlds of Science Fiction , July, 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
Tensor's melancholia threatened to disturb the entire citizenry, and that was most uncivil! So—if these peculiar aliens caused him this distress, by provoking his intellectual curiosity, the remedy was for him to investigate them to his complete satisfaction.... Thus, in this manner, did Tensor get well—and did he learn a bit too....
Tensor gazed helplessly at the fine mist sifting down from a hazy, violet sky. I told you I was having these spells.
But Great Oxy, the administrator sputtered, can't you control yourself?
I can't help it, Ruut, Tensor replied. I just feel sort of funny and—and—
Ruut's hyperimage was chewing on its illusory lip. Well, you've got to stop it. Do you understand? There'll be a lot of lichens and things growing all over the Prime's beautiful landscapes if this keeps up.
The administrator's concern amused Tensor and, as his mood lightened, the drizzle abated and the sky became clear again.
I'm sorry, he apologized sincerely. But I just seem to be having trouble lately. Ever since the aliens came.
Oh, come now, son, Ruut chortled with assumed heartiness. That's elementary somatics. Just get a grip on yourself.
Yes sir.
Perhaps you've been working, or exerting yourself in some other foolish way. Maybe you're tired and should take something.
The long, scrawny citizen gazed disconsolately at the beautitful violet sky, his face relaxed and soleful. He sighed and murmured, Frankly, Ruut, I just don't seem to give a damn anymore.