The Double R Bar Ranch on Alpha Centauri 5
David Afsharirad
As [The Roy Rogers Show] closed out its penultimate season, ratings were flagging, and Executive Producer Jack Lacey, along with the NBC network executives and the show’s sponsor, looked for ways to revitalize the series. Suggestions ranged from incorporating musical numbers, with Roy and Dale backed by the Sons of the Pioneers, to adding a rotating guest-star slot that would have seen the crew at the Double R Bar Ranch playing opposite the day’s most popular television and film stars. One marvels at the spectacle that could have been Desi Arnaz belting out “Babalu” from atop a horse or at the possibility of Orson Welles taking a ride in Pat Brady’s semisentient Jeep, Nellybelle.
Perhaps the most absurd notion was also the one that made it closest to production. To capitalize on the growing popularity of science fiction as well as the nascent space race, one CBS executive whose name is lost to history proposed moving the show—Roy, Dale, Trigger, Bullet, Pat, and all—to a far-flung space colony. A young staff writer named Morris Wade was tasked with working up a treatment, which was presented to Rogers, who dismissed the idea out of hand.
Ultimately, none of the changes were made to the Rogers show, and the sixth and final season debuted October 21, 1956, with no musical numbers, no guest stars—and no ray guns in sight.
The failed treatment, reportedly entitled either “The Double R Bar Ranch on Alpha Centauri 5” or “The Double R Bar Ranch Takes to Space,” is assumed lost, with no surviving copies known in existence. Despite this, rumors abound within collectors’ circles that a deep dive into the NBC archives or the Roy Rogers estate might yield an extant copy. Whether these rumors are true, we can all be thankful that such a ridiculous idea never saw the light of day.
—from Six-Guns on the Small Screen: A History of Television Westerns
Raymond Chalker
University of Texas Press, 1997
We open on a shot of the landscape surrounding the Double R Bar Ranch. Upon first inspection, it is very much like the world we know, with gentle rolling hills and rocky outcroppings amongst low-lying trees and scrub brush—until we notice the twin suns in the sky.
The camera pans over to Roy Rogers and his comedic sidekick Pat Brady as they set posts and string a barbwire fence. Soon, they come to a large boulder that blocks their way.
“Well, now what are we supposed to do?” Pat says, stamping his foot in frustration. “We didn’t bring any dynamite.”
“No need for dynamite,” Roy says.
“Roy, it’d take us a week to dig that rock out!”
“I don’t aim to dig it out,” Roy says, chuckling. He removes the gun from his right holster. It is not the familiar chrome six-shooter he normally carries but an odd contraption of Bakelite and wire. “Remember the ray guns Professor Hudson outfitted us colonists with?”
Roy fiddles with a dial on the gun. He points it at the boulder and pulls the trigger. The giant rock glows momentarily and utterly disappears.
“Sure comes in handy,” Roy says. “Just the same, I best set it back to stun. Wouldn’t want to accidentally disintegrate someone.” Roy fiddles with the dial and returns the gun to its holster.
“Professor Hudson sure is a genius,” Pat says, marveling at the hole in the ground where the boulder stood moments earlier.
“Sure,” Roy says. “It was his space probe that discovered this planet, with its rich deposits of uranium. And of course, he invented the rocket-drive that allowed for colonization. We wouldn’t be here on Alpha Centauri 5 without him.”
Pat’s mood darkens a bit. “Yeah, well. . . ”
“Aw, Pat,” Roy says, “don’t start in on that again.”
“I don’t know, Roy.” Pat takes off his hat and begins worrying it in his hands. “I just don’t know that I can get used to this crazy planet, is all.” He swats his hat across his leg, to emphasize his point.
“I can understand that. But this world isn’t so different from our own. After all, the same God who created Earth created this planet, and like Earth, it seems mighty good to me. Besides,” he adds, “if you squint, it looks just like home.”
“Maybe. . . ”
“I do want to thank you, Pat. For coming along. The Double R Bar Ranch wouldn’t be the same without you—on any planet.”
“Are you kiddin’! I wouldn’t dream of letting you and Dale go off without me being along to protect you.”
Roy smiles.
We hear a ringing akin to a telephone. Pat jumps and pulls his ray gun.
“Wh-what was that?!”
Roy laughs and holds up his hands. “Easy does it. It’s the wrist teleradio Professor Hudson invented.” Roy extends his left arm to Pat. On it is strapped a small television screen. The wrist teleradio rings again. Roy presses a button. The image of Dale Evans appears on the tiny screen.
“Hello? Roy?”
“It’s Dale,” Roy says to Pat. He turns his attention back to the teleradio. “Hi, Dale.”
“Roy,” Dale says, “Professor Hudson asked me to hail you. He said there’s something you need to see back at his laboratory, in town. He said it was urgent.”
“Urgent, huh?” Roy says. “Any idea what it’s about?”
“No. But he looked pretty upset. Whatever it is, I don’t think it’s good.”
“I’ll be right there.” Roy presses another button on the wrist teleradio, ending the conversation.
Pat waves a hand at the teleradio dismissively. “Never see me with one of those gadgets strapped to my wrist. How can a man have any freedom and peace if anyone can just call him up whenever he likes, no matter where he is or what he’s doing? No, sir!”
“Well, it’s just as well that I have it,” Roy says. “Dale says Professor Hudson wants to see me and that it’s urgent. You coming along?”
“Nah,” Pat says. “I’ll finish up these last couple of posts. And enjoy my freedom!”
Roy mounts Trigger and gallops off.
Pat gets a post from the back of his Jeep, Nellybelle, who is now outfitted with a rotating dish antenna, and sets it into the ground. He pauses and looks at the surrounding countryside.
“Just like home if you squint. . . ” he mutters to himself. Pat squints, playing it up for the camera—at a tree, at the twin suns, at a nearby bush. He takes a step forward and squints down into an arroyo. . . and his eyes almost bug out of his head.
A monster is coming toward him, climbing the slope of the arroyo! It is covered in shaggy fur. Its hands and feet end in gigantic claws. Its head is massive, with three malevolent eyes over a gaping, fang-toothed mouth.
Pat runs backward away from the monster, tripping over a shovel. He kicks up dust with his boots as he scrambles backward, trying to find his feet. Finally, he gets up and climbs into Nellybelle, hoping to make a fast escape. But Nellybelle refuses to turn over.
“Nellybelle,” Pat says. “Now isn’t the time for your games!” He tries to start the engine once again but has no luck. “I mean it, Nellybelle!”
His eyes dart back over his shoulder. The monster has crested the ridge and is coming toward him with a lumbering, uneven gait.
“Nellybelle, you start or I’ll give you to Professor Hudson for scrap!” Pat fumbles with Nellybelle’s various levers, buttons, and switches, but once again has no luck getting the cantankerous Jeep to start.
Pleading now, his hands clasped in supplication. “I didn’t mean it, Nellybelle! Please!”
Just as the monster reaches the back of the Jeep, Nellybelle roars to life and lurches forward at a high rate of speed, causing Pat to nearly fall out. The monster is left behind, arms waving angrily, in a cloud of dust.
[opening credits/commercial break]
Roy rides into town on Trigger. The town looks much the same as it did back on Earth, though there are a few cosmetic changes to let the viewer know that this is a different planet. Most of the townsfolk wear Western clothing, but some are dressed in futuristic jumpsuits.
Roy dismounts in front of Dale’s café. She comes out to greet him. Bullet, Roy’s German shepherd, trots up. He is wearing a bulky collar that has flashing lights affixed to it.
“Hi, Dale,” Roy says as he ties Trigger to the hitching post. He squats down and ruffles the fur on Bullet’s head. “Hey, Bullet.”
“Hello, Roy.” The voice is unmistakably human, but also somewhat stilted. It is coming from Bullet’s collar.
Dale says, “That thought-translating collar sure is something.”
“Yep,” Roy says, standing. “Just wait until Professor Hudson figures out how to make it work on Trigger.”
“Speaking of Professor Hudson. . . ” Dale says.
Roy is suddenly serious again. “Right. You’ve got no idea what this is about?”
“No, just that he wanted to see you and sounded pretty upset.”
“Well, we better get going then.”
They cross the main street of the town and come to the door of Professor Hudson’s storefront laboratory. Roy knocks once and lets himself and Dale in. They find Professor Hudson in a back room. He is a handsome man of early middle age wearing a white lab coat. He stands at a table and peers into a microscope.
“I just can’t understand it,” he mutters to himself.
“Can’t understand what, Professor?” Dale asks.
The professor turns to face Roy and Dale. He gestures at some rocks laid out on his laboratory table.
“These,” he says, “are the latest samples taken from the Scanlan mine, over in sector seven. Old Jed Scanlan brought in a load just this morning. I tested these samples for purity, weighed all that he’d brought in, and paid him for it at the company’s going rate. He had almost a half ton of uranium, in total.”
“And I bet you paid him a pretty penny for it too, Professor,” Roy says. “Sector seven’s one of the best sites on the planet for purity of uranium.”
“Yes,” Professor Hudson replies. “It is.” He knits his brow, shakes his head as if to clear his mind. “Or was. Or. . . Well, take a look for yourself.”
Roy looks confused but he picks up several samples from the table.
“Professor, these look like—”
“—lead,” the professor finishes for him. “Hunks of lead.”
“That can’t be right,” Roy says. “You said these were samples from the Scanlan mine.”
“They are. Dale, hand me that Geiger counter on the shelf there.”
Dale does as the professor asks. He runs the Geiger counter over the samples. No clicks are heard. “Completely inert. No radioactivity whatever.”
“But you said you paid Jed Scanlan for the load.”
“I did. Because when I tested these samples earlier they were the purest uranium I’d ever seen in my life. And now. . . worthless.” He tosses a piece of lead absently in his hand. “I tell you, Rogers, this could be disastrous if the uranium on this planet behaves in some way that we don’t understand. If it somehow—and don’t ask me how—degrades into lead the way this load has, then this whole colony will be a bust. Why, the uranium deposits are what make this a going concern. Without them—well, I don’t like to think about it.”
“Does anyone know about this, Professor?” Roy asks. “Besides us, I mean.”
“No, but I don’t see how we can keep it a secret for long.”
“I think,” Dale says, “this is a conversation to have over a cup of hot coffee. I know I could go for some.”
“And a piece of your pecan pie?” Professor Hudson says.
“I think we could manage that.”
Professor Hudson smiles. “You know, I don’t want to say an unkind word about our friend, but Pat’s crazy for not liking pecan pie. Especially yours, Dale.”
“Well, I suppose there’s no accounting for taste,” Dale says, smiling. “But probably it’s for the best. The way Pat eats, and as expensive as it is to get pecans shipped here, I don’t think I could keep the café afloat if he liked my pie as much as you, Professor.”
Roy, Dale, and the professor walk out of the laboratory and head toward the café, but a commotion at the rocket station at the end of the street catches their attention.
Two men argue at the bottom of the ramp that leads to the rocket hatch. One is dressed in the jumpsuit uniform of the rocket brigade, the other is in torn overalls and a battered hat. The man in the hat holds the lead rope of a tired-looking mule in one meaty hand.
“And I say I got to be on that rocket, and Dinah’s comin’ with me!” the man in the overalls says.
Roy steps between the two men. “What’s going on here?” He turns to the man in the uniform. “Lieutenant Scott, what’s the problem?”
“The problem,” the lieutenant responds, “is this prospector wants to take his mule on the next rocket back to Earth, and I’ve told him we don’t have room, but he won’t stand to reason.”
The prospector stands on tiptoe, shouting at Lieutenant Scott over Roy’s shoulder. “I’m not going anywhere without Dinah! And I’ve got to be on that rocket!”
Lieutenant Scott talks around Roy. “I told you there’s plenty of space on the rocket tomorrow for you and your mule, but if you want to leave today, you’re going to have to leave the nag behind.”
“Nag!” the prospector yells. He makes a lunge for Lieutenant Scott but Roy stops him.
“Now listen to reason, Mitch,” he says, addressing the prospector.
“He’s the one not listening to reason,” Mitch says. “I got to be on that rocket! I want off this planet now!”
“But why?” Roy asks. “You just got here, what, three weeks ago? That’s hardly enough time to even start prospecting. And I know for a fact that piece of land you’ve staked claim to is lousy with uranium. You’ll be a rich man.”
Mitch’s eyes dart around nervously. He is sweating heavily. “It ain’t the money,” he says. “I’m—I’m homesick, that’s what.” His voice rises. “And I want on that rocket!”
Lieutenant Scott speaks up. “And I told you, you’re more than welcome. But the mule has got to stay. And you’ve got to decide five minutes ago. The rocket is past schedule to take off.”
Mitch considers this. “Okay,” he says finally. He hands the lead rope to Roy. “You’ll see Dinah finds a good home, Mr. Rogers?”
“Mitch,” Roy protests. “There’s no need. . . ”
“Please,” Mitch says.
Roy nods. Mitch gives his mule a last scratch behind the ears and boards the rocket.
Roy leads the mule back to where Dale and Professor Hudson are waiting. The roar of a rocket is heard and the three watch as it ascends into the sky.
“Darndest thing,” Professor Hudson says.
“Said he was homesick,” Roy says.
“He didn’t look homesick,” Dale says, her brow creased with worry. “He looked. . . scared.”
As the three head back toward the café, they are nearly run over by Pat, who comes roaring up in Nellybelle. The Jeep slows and Pat tumbles out, falling to the ground in a roll. Nellybelle continues down the street, now driverless, and turns into an alleyway.
Pat gets to his feet, sputtering gibberish. He grabs Roy by the shoulders, pointing back the way he came wildly.
“Talk sense, Pat!” Roy says.
“M-m-m-monster!”
“Monster?”
“Back where we were stringing up the fence. Came up out of the arroyo! Three eyes! Big claws! Huge teeth!” As he speaks, he mimes the features of the monster.
“A monster?!” Roy says.
“Wait, Roy,” Dale interjects. “You don’t suppose that Mitch Henson saw it, too. His claim is out that same way, isn’t it?”
“What’s Mitch Henson got to do with this?” Pat says.
“He just left on the rocket back to Earth,” Dale explains. “And he looked scared.”
“Rocket back to Earth?” Pat says. “Sounds like a good idea! I’ll pack my bags.” He turns to go, but Roy grabs him by the arm and pulls him back.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Pat. There’s no such thing as monsters.”
“You didn’t see it! Big, big fangs! And eyes! Three of ’em!”
“He might just be right,” Professor Hudson says.
Pat turns to face the professor. “All due respect, Professor Hudson, but I know what I—Wait. Did you just say I might be right?”
“I did, Pat.”
“Now, Professor,” Roy says, his voice unbelieving. “You can’t mean. . . ”
“I don’t mean monsters, as such. But we don’t know much about this planet. It could be there’s alien life here we haven’t encountered.”
Pat shakes loose from Roy’s grip. “Aliens! Monsters! Call ’em what you want, I’m outta here on the first rocket tomorrow!”
Pat rushes off, searching for Nellybelle. Bullet is on his heels.
“Pat,” Bullet says through his collar. “Don’t go.”
“I liked it better when you couldn’t talk,” Pat says, not looking back at the German shepherd. He peers down an alley and spots Nellybelle parked by a rain barrel. “There you are!”
Pat rushes toward Nellybelle while Bullet stays at the mouth of the alley.
“Why can’t you just park on the street, huh?” Pat asks the Jeep. Pat sees something out of the corner of his eye that causes him to freeze. Slowly, he turns his head. His eyes go wide. He tries to speak but no words come from his mouth.
We hear the sound of a ray gun and Pat slumps to the ground, unconscious. Two hairy arms ending in long claws encircle his chest, pick him up, and drag him away.
[commercial break]
Pat comes to lying in the back of a wagon. He is tied hand and foot, a bandana serving as a gag. He is jostled as the wagon travels at speed over uneven ground. As Pat struggles to free himself from his bonds, he turns—and comes face to face with the head of the monster, which is in the bed of the wagon with him! Pat begins struggling even harder. He manages to roll over and gets a look at the driver of the wagon, who has the head of a human but the shaggy body of the monster.
As the wagon moves over the rugged ground, we see Bullet following at a distance.
Back at Dale’s café, Roy, Dale, and Professor Hudson sit talking over coffee and pie. But despite the homey setting, their faces are grave, drawn, worried.
“Mitch Henson leaving and now Pat,” Dale says.
“Monsters,” Roy says. Then correcting himself, “Alien lifeforms, I mean.”
“And don’t forget about the uranium that mysteriously turns to lead,” Professor Hudson adds.
“I’m not going to lie,” Roy says. “This looks bad. Any one of these things might spell doom for the colony here on Alpha Centauri 5. But everything put together is a sure disaster if we can’t figure out what’s going on.”
“Figure out what?” Pat says as he slides into the booth beside Professor Hudson.
They are shocked to see their friend. “Pat, we thought you were packing up to leave!” Dale says.
“Oh that,” Pat says. “Well, I guess I changed my mind. You gonna finish that, Professor?” Pat doesn’t wait for an answer before sliding the professor’s pecan pie in front of him and digging in.
Roy, Dale, and Professor Hudson share confused glances with each other.
Meanwhile, the wagon with Pat in the back turns into a cavern set into the rocky hillside. Three men await its arrival. A makeshift camp has been set up in the cavern, with overturned crates serving as seats around a barrel used as a table. A game of cards is set out next to a half-empty bottle.
“How’d you manage?” one of the men asks the driver of the wagon. He wears a black cowboy hat and a tattered vest. The other men are bareheaded, dressed in patched jeans and flannel shirts.
The driver climbs down from the wagon seat. “Fine,” he says. “That old prospector Mitch Henson was scared out of his gourd! But I’m burning up in this crazy monster suit. Help me with the zipper.” After shucking the suit, he continues. “We’ll have no problem buying Henson’s claim for pennies on the dollar. ’Specially after we pull this stunt on a few more of them dumb hillbillies who came up to this godforsaken planet to strike it rich.”
“Good,” says the man in the black hat. He is clearly the leader of the gang.
“There is one problem, though.” The driver of the wagon drops the tailgate and shows them Pat, still bound and gagged. The bandits pull him out and set him on the ground, his back to the cavern wall.
The man in the black hat cuffs the wagon driver. “What’d you bring him here for? That’s Rogers’s buddy Pat Brady, you idiot!”
“He saw me changing out of the monster suit, Bill! What’d you want me to do?!”
“Only one thing to do.”
The man in the black hat, Bill, pulls a ray gun from his holster and twists the dial vigorously. “Thing I like most about these little beauties is they don’t leave a mess if you set them to disintegrate.” He points the ray gun at Pat, who squinches his eyes shut and turns his head, as if to avoid the disintegrator beam. “So long, Brady.”
Just as Bill is about to pull the trigger, a booming voice fills the cavern. “You’re surrounded. Come out with your hands up!”
All four men turn and walk toward the mouth of the cavern, crouching low, ray guns in hand. They shield themselves behind some rocks just inside the opening of the cavern.
“You see anyone?” one of the men says.
“No,” Bill replies. “But someone hollered all right.”
Sheltered by scrub brush, Bullet makes his way around back of the cavern and crawls through a back entrance too small for a man. Moving stealthily to avoid detection, he pulls Pat’s gag loose.
“Am I glad to see you!” Pat says.
“Shh!” Bullet warns him. He begins tugging at the ropes around Pat’s hands, but to no avail.
“I can’t chew through these ropes,” Bullet says. “Stay here. I’ll go get Roy.”
Bullet charges off through the back entrance to the cavern. He runs at top speed back to town, where he finds Roy, Dale, and Professor Hudson about to enter the professor’s laboratory.
“Roy! Roy!” Bullet calls. It almost sounds like a bark.
Roy squats down to the dog’s level. “What is it, Bullet?”
“Four men have kidnapped Pat. They are holding him in a cavern. They plan to disintegrate him.”
“But that’s impossible,” Roy says. “Pat’s over at the cafe. We just saw him.”
“There must be something wrong with the collar,” Professor Hudson says. “I thought I worked all the kinks out and yet that can’t be what Bullet’s saying. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Seems this is a day for things that don’t make sense,” Roy says.
Bullet ignores them. He is darting up and down the street, trying to get Roy to follow him. “Pat saw one of the men. He was dressed as the monster. I saw it, too. There is no monster. But the men will kill Pat. You must hurry, Roy.”
As Bullet races back and forth, a figure listens from a narrow alley between buildings. It is Pat! And he is listening closely. Slowly, he backs into the alley and fades into the shadows.
“Hurry, Roy!” Bullet pleads.
“Collar malfunction or not,” Roy says. “Something’s got Bullet worked up.” He mounts Trigger and rides off at top speed, Bullet racing along side.
Dale mounts Buttermilk as Professor Hudson, somewhat awkwardly, mounts his own horse, and the duo follow.
Back at the cavern, Bill steps out from the rocks he’s been crouched behind, exposing himself.
“Are you crazy, Bill!” one of the men exclaims.
Bill waves a hand. “Ain’t nobody out there!” he says. “It was a fake.”
“But we heard—” another of the men says.
“I know it. Maybe it was the wind. Maybe Brady’s a ventriloquist. Anyway, it doesn’t change what we got to do.” He moves back into the cavern and approaches Pat. “So you got the gag out, eh, Brady? Seeing as how you can talk now, you got any last words?”
Pat swallows hard. “Yeah, I got something I’d like to say: Don’t do it!”
Bill laughs malevolently. He raises the ray gun and is about to pull the trigger, but just then Roy storms into the cavern and chops the ray gun out of Bill’s hand. Roy socks Bill in the jaw, but the bandit comes at him with a haymaker that knocks him to the ground. The other three men join in, and it is them against Roy alone.
Roy gets to his feet and knocks out one of the bandits with a punch to the jaw. Two of the others come at him, but he steps to the side, and they fall to the ground, stumbling over the monster costume. Bill dives for the gun, but Roy gets to it first. He levels it at the bandits. They freeze, their hands in the air.
“Don’t disintegrate us, Rogers! Please!”
Roy raises the ray gun. He twists the dial, setting it to stun. He pulls the trigger—once, twice, three times—rendering the remaining men unconscious and cuts Pat loose.
“Boy, am I glad to see you!” Pat says, shedding the ropes and standing.
Pat turns to leave the cavern—just in time to see Roy dismount Trigger and rush in! He does a double take. “So glad I’m seeing two of you!” Pat’s head swivels from side to side. There are TWO Roys, one on each side of him.
“I—How?—What—?” Pat stammers.
Dale and Professor Hudson enter on the heels of the second Roy. They freeze in their tracks when they lay eyes on the tableau in front of them.
As everyone stands dumbstruck, the first Roy—the one who dispatched the bandits and freed Pat—starts to shimmer. Suddenly, he is transformed into Pat Brady!
The real Pat finally manages to speak: “Just what is going on here?”
Professor Hudson clears his throat. “I think I might hazard a guess. If I may?”
The imposter Pat nods his head.
“We know the monster was nothing more than a costume—a way to scare the prospectors off their claims. It wasn’t an alien lifeform at all. But that doesn’t mean this planet doesn’t harbor life.” Professor Hudson turns to address the imposter Pat. “You are a native of this planet, are you not?”
Again, the imposter Pat nods.
“And you can change your shape. Just as you changed the uranium to lead.”
Another nod. Then the alien speaks: “It is as you have said. Altus is my name. I am the last of a noble race. Long ago, we mastered our material form, allowing us to take the shape of whatever pleased us. Likewise, we learned to transform the matter around us as we saw fit. But that was long ago, thousands of years. Now, only I am left. And. . . I am lonely. When I saw your probe in the sky, I knew that though I was alone on this world, I was not alone in the universe. I changed some of the rocks of this planet into uranium, which I knew you would find valuable, given that your probe was powered with this fuel source. For me, it was easily accomplished, not more difficult than it would be for you to transform flour and water into bread. My plan worked. You did come.”
“But why hide yourself?” Dale asks.
“And why turn the uranium back to lead?” Roy says.
“I did not know how you would react upon learning of my existence. And then, when I saw the greed and the evil in the hearts of these men”—Altus indicates the bandits lying unconscious with a wave of his hand—“I knew that I had made a mistake. Lonely I was, but I did not want kinship with those who would deceive and kill.”
“It explains a lot,” Roy says. “Really, it explains everything. And I don’t want to start a quarrel with you, friend. But you’re wrong about one thing. We aren’t all like these bandits there. Oh, people can be rotten, there’s no doubt about that. But there’s plenty of good in us, too. But this is your planet, and if you want us gone, we’ll oblige.”
“I do not wish that, Roy Rogers,” says Altus. “I see that it is how you say: you are not all like these men. I would be honored to have you share my homeworld.”
Altus extends his hand, and Roy takes it.
“There’s just one problem,” Professor Hudson pipes up. “Without the uranium, the colony isn’t feasible.”
Altus turns to the professor. “Do not worry, Professor. When you return to your lab, you will find all has been restored. If it is uranium that is required for this world to once again teem with life, then uranium you shall have. And whatever else you require. In exchange, I ask only one thing: companionship.”
“You’ve got it,” Roy says. “But on one condition.”
“Roy!” Dale exclaims, horrified that Roy would place conditions on the newly formed friendship.
“Oh?” Altus says, wary.
“Yes,” Roy says, his face cracking ear to ear in a smile. “You’re going to have to find a different form to take. One Pat Brady is more than enough.”
The real Pat nods, then does another double take, his eyes bugging out. “Hey now! What’s that supposed to mean?”
[commercial break]
The town is bustling with life as men, women, and children pour out of the recently arrived rocket from Earth. Construction is happening around town, and stores, restaurants, schools, and churches are open for business. The camera pans down main street, past the jail, through the bars of which we see Bill and the other bandits.
Trigger, Buttermilk, Bullet, and Nellybelle stand in the street in front of Dale’s café. On the board sidewalk out front, Roy, Dale, Pat, and Professor Hudson stand beside a tall man in Western clothes, a white hat tipped back on his head. It is Altus in his new form.
“Well,” Dale says to him. “You said you were tired of being alone. Looks like you got your wish.”
“And then some,” Professor Hudson adds. “The colony is a success beyond my wildest dreams. I hope it’s what you wanted, Altus. This is your planet, after all.”
Altus smiles. “It feels good to be among people again, though it is strange after being alone these many eons. However, I believe I can certainly get used to this.”
Roy turns to Pat. “What about you, Pat? Think you can ever learn to call this place home?”
“Me?” Pat says, incredulous. “Heck, I always did like it here! You know, if you squint, it looks just like Earth.”
One by one, they all start squinting at the bustling scene around them.
[ending credits]
—found in a water-stained file box by Amelia Ziegler, daughter of Morris Wade,
while cleaning out her father’s storage unit after his death