Baker's Dozens — Key Ideas to Explore

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In Category - Machines Invention

Authors: Harmon, Jim, 1933-2010 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2019 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Science fiction; Short stories; Criminals -- Fiction; Identity -- Fiction Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 8,110

Reading time 36 min

Text sections 1

The source record for Baker's Dozens — Key Ideas to Explore measures this digital text at 8,110 words, 36 min estimated reading time, and 1 detected text section.

The text analysis averages about 15.8 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Science fiction,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #60683

In Jim Harmon's 1959 science fiction story, xenologist Street analyzes conflicting reports of the criminal Baker's death across multiple worlds, leading to a layered puzzle of identity and deception. The narrative uses embedded surveillance and shifting perspectives to question who Baker really is.

Editorial Edition Score 4.3/5

★★★★★ ★★★★★

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

File: pg60683

Read the Text

Wurmong was waiting for him as planned.

"_Si_," the fat, swarthy man said, "my brother, my nephews, my cousins--we will bring our extra luggage to the cargo hold tonight."

"I'll predispose the guards. Come right into Hold 7. Understand?"

"_Da_," Wurmong assured him.

The man on watch collapsed soundlessly at a beam of nerve pressure on the neck, and Baker slipped inside, immediately beginning to eject the first-grade readers through the escape hatch by the gross.

The mercenary, Wurmong, and his army of family arrived with experienced stealth and began dumping the new books from their privileged luggage.

Baker replaced the contents of the opened crates with the variant readers. These volumes might be the tiny counterbalance needed to free a world of swinoids from domination by Earth. Who knew the full extent of the psychological effect of _The Three Little Pigs_ on young, formative minds?

His work done, Baker sadly regarded the precious jewels and the negotiable bonds from the registered mail. There was no way around it. This had to look like a robbery. It was necessary that he take them. Quickly, he stuffed everything into his synthetic appendix....

Baker was allowed to disembark on Ignatz XI so that he might be traced to his alien fellow-conspirators.

The heavy-jowled biped who greeted him at the smoky tavern was joyous. "You have done the next best thing for us to enabling us to tell your busybody missionaries to go home. We look upon you as one of our own and are hungry for the sight of you. May you remain with us long."

"Too much work," Baker said, gagging over the native beer. "But I must ask you a favor. You implied you'd give me your right arm."

"Anything we have is yours. But would not a cadaver's limb suit you as well as mine?"

"I must escape from this world. You can give a private citizen like me something only a sovereign government can. I want the jump drive."

"Yes! I've earned it, haven't I?"

The swinoid nodded wearily. "You have. The device will be put in your spacer. Use it only in deep space."

He was now in orbit. That was far enough out. Earth patrols could still pick him up easily. The ETI spy pickup observed him as he reached out and put a finger to the button of the device given him by the Swinoids, as Earth ships closed rapidly. He pressed the button.

_In a crisping flash of flame, he lit with incredible speed._

"Naturally, we lost contact after the ship went up in flames. If that man was the true Baker, he was undoubtedly destroyed. Of course, we have a report from our spies on Klondike II of events running just about concurrently."

"If you'll allow one interruption," Street interjected. "As a competent xenological ethnologist, I can assure you that Baker was, at least, not completely destroyed by the fire. His somewhat roasted remains would have been appropriated by the swinoids."

"These people are as similar to pigs as we are to apes. When one of their own wishes to die, as they thought Baker did, in their typical alien literal-mindedness, they dispose of his body in a special way. Remember how they said they thought of Baker as one of their own and were hungry even for the sight of him?"

Baker had been walking for two weeks across the primitive surface of the mining planet, Klondike II, to reach the shack in the gray shadow of the granite mountain. It wasn't gold he was after but escape. Unlike others seeking it, he had headed away from the saloons. But the peepbug's lens of air had followed him.

Minutes later, he was knocking on the door. He _had_ to have a means of transportation at least as good as government ships to do his work of helping the aliens, and make his escapes. At least as good, and preferably better.

The door was cracked by a kind-looking old man. "You got five seconds to get, before thirty thousand volts of electricity go through those floorboards you're standing on," the old man said kindly.

"Professor Gentle," Baker said hastily, "I have many friends. One of them has told me you have established a major breakthrough in electronics, that you have in fact invented a machine to transmit matter as radio and television transmit sound and sight."

"Some loose-lipped electronics jobber found that out, did he? Step right in."

"Do you suppose _I_ might be teleported?" Baker asked tentatively.

"Of course you can, my boy. But first perhaps you'd like to take a look at some of the things I have teleported so far."

Continue Reading →

Jim Harmon's 1959 story opens with a framing device: a xenologist named Street is asked to determine which of several conflicting accounts of the criminal Baker's death is true. The narrative then presents those accounts, each with its own internal logic and observational detail. The first excerpt shows Baker aboard a space liner, subvocalizing his plan to destroy children's readers he considers propaganda against alien swinoids. The second follows an agent named Thorsen waiting to kill Baker, only to be shot from an unexpected direction. The third reveals that the director of Extraterrestrial Investigations himself claims to be Baker, and Street then kills him. The story's structure—a series of embedded tales, each undercut by the next—creates a puzzle about identity and reliability.

Surveillance and Subvocalization

The excerpts repeatedly emphasize observation technology. The director mentions “planted Orwells” and “peepbugs” that monitor Baker, yet these devices lose contact at vital moments. In one scene, a “hyper-Orwell” picks up Baker's subvocalizations—his whispered thoughts—revealing his true motives. This detail ties the story's science-fictional gadgetry directly to the plot's central question: can any account be trusted when surveillance is fallible? The reader, like the director, must piece together what happened from incomplete records.

The Robin Hood of Space

Baker is called a “Robin Hood” by some and a “scarlet fiend” by others. His own justification, heard via subvocalization, frames him as a renegade fighting corrupt Earthmen who exploit literal-minded aliens. He targets “first-grade readers” that he claims teach alien children to accept exploitation. This moral ambiguity—a criminal who sees himself as a liberator—is reinforced by the story's multiple perspectives. Each account paints Baker differently, and the final twist suggests that even the identity “Baker” is a role that can be assumed.

Armor, Disguise, and the Unreliable Body

Physical evidence in the excerpts is consistently misleading. A dead body is stolen; a woman's form is suspected to be armor hiding the twin spheres of an electronic cuirass. Street explains that Baker's body could only have disappeared if it was armored, and that the armor could only be hidden if Baker was not actually a woman. Later, Street survives a point-blank gunshot because he wears meteor armor under his clothes. The story uses these material details—armor, disguises, corpses—to undermine any stable reading of events. The final line, “You weren't wearing armor, were you?” becomes a punchline about who is prepared for deception.

Readers should pay close attention to who is speaking and what technology is present in each scene. The story rewards careful tracking of details like the “twin spheres” of armor or the “civilian planetary-field booster.” Because the excerpts present only fragments, the full resolution of the identity puzzle remains unclear, but the pattern of nested lies and counter-lies is evident. Harmon uses the science-fiction trappings of surveillance and armor to build a mystery about the nature of self and reputation.

Reading about Street sifting through those contradictory reports, I thought of an old friend’s journals—layers of half-truths we never quite resolved. Jamieson — Reading Notes gave me that same quiet ache, the sense that every identity is a story we’re still misreading. Strange how a puzzle can feel so intimate.