The Revolt of the Machines
Page 4
Nothing was easier to realize.
III. The Application
I constructed a kind of armchair with strong straps, which also supported me by the armpits, leaving my arms and legs complete freedom of movement. The straps, when tightened, came together above my head in a unique point of suspension that I first adapted to a hook solidly fixed in the ceiling. I successively modified the points of attachment of my aerial seat until I had attained a perfect equilibrium as well as a comfortable position. The one on which I settled was almost precisely the posture of a man sitting in a Voltaire armchair, slightly tilted backwards.
I noticed, however, that even the most comfortable possible position became fatiguing, and even unbearable, after a few hours, if one could not modify it slightly. That observation led me to complete my seat by means of straps passing under my feet, on which I could support myself and stand almost upright. I was, therefore, sometimes sitting, sometimes standing, sometimes suspended beneath the arms and sometimes almost standing, able in addition to support myself on one leg or the other, to cross them and lean, sometimes on one elbow and sometimes on the other, by means of straps placed within easy reach.
I also noticed that with a unique point of suspension, I could not prevent completely enough a slight rotational movement, produced in one direction or the other under the most minimal impulsion. I remedied that by suspending straps from my seat from two points instead of one. A separation of less than a decimeter between the two points of suspension proved to be sufficient to prevent any rotational movement, or at least for the system to regain its normal position almost instantaneously.
For a long time I exercised a kind of gymnastics in my aerial seat, whereby I ended up feeling as much at ease and sure of myself as in an armchair on castors. Then I thought of devoting myself to definitive experiments. I suspended my seat solidly by means of straps to the two sides of the kind of pear that I have described, and for which I had found a name that I shall employ henceforth.
The terms pos and neg had already become familiar; any system in which their juxtaposition produced the effects I have described I named a negopos. A negopos could take various forms. After having tried the spherical form, I had settled on the sphero-conic form, but it was still a negopos. The Earth and the planets are merely enormous negoposes, although differently composed in the superimposition of pos and neg. A magnetized needle is also a veritable negopos, but in an utterly rudimentary state. It was the only one known before my invention, but without anyone taking account of its functioning. People did not know until now that the attraction of the needle toward the pole is due to a combination of the two gravitational and anti-gravitational forces, produced in particular conditions giving them a determined direction, by virtue of what is called magnetism, but with such scant efficacy that the slightest resistance prevents the embryonic negopos from obeying the force that solicits it.
A simple negopos is the first kind that I described, only composed of two parts, one pos and one neg. A complex negopos—the complete negopos or negopos par excellence—is one composed of three parts disposed in such a manner as to obtain all the desired effects, whether the pos is between two pieces of neg or the neg between two pieces of pos. The effects produced in the two cases are identical but inverse. A negopos in the form of a pear is directed toward the tail in the first and away from it in the second.
When I employ the word “negopos” in isolation, with no adjective or explanation, I mean a sphero-conical negopos composed of one piece of pos between two pieces of neg. I derive from the noun negopos the adjective negoposian; I can thus refer to a negoposian system, a negoposian effect, negoposian forces and negoposian locomotion. The expressions “locomotion” or “aerial navigation” are more general; they designate any kind of aerial locomotion obtained by means of negopos or any other system yet to be discovered—and which, in parentheses, never will be discovered because it is undiscoverable. I call the various items of apparatus that can be suspended from a negopos a negoposian seat, a negoposian nacelle, a negoposian vehicle, etc.
My special vocabulary is limited to those few words. It is necessary to create and to have new names for new objects. But they suffice, in combination with the words of current language, to express all the ideas relative to my discovery.
I shall return to my experiments.
I suspended my seat by means of straps from the two sides of the negopos, after having released the latter in such a way as only to produce an imperceptible effect. It is, moreover, easy to understand what I mean when I talk about releasing or tightening the negapos: it means separating or bringing together the different parts, from which results, as already established, a diminution or increase in the negoposian forces.
Then I placed myself in my negoposian seat, directing the point of the negopos toward the ceiling at an angle of forty-five degrees. I was gently lifted in that direction, and then in others at various speeds. My mechanism only functioned imperfectly, however. I corrected the most essential faults, and a few days later, I was flying around my study as easily as a bird in an aviary.
Nevertheless, the moment had not yet come to manifest my discovery publicly. Before then, I wanted to perfect it completely.
A shortcoming was manifest, in that it could only make oblique or horizontal movements, and could not be used to ascend or descend vertically. Indeed, when the point of the negopos was turned vertically, either upwards or downwards, the negoposian forces were no longer effective and the system fell to earth like any weighty body. When the point had a lateral or oblique direction, the form of the pieces of pos and neg composing the negopos produced forces acting at angles whose resultant was never vertical.
I remedied that inconvenience by separating the superior part from the intermediate part, and slightly more toward the front than the rear of the negopos. In that way, only a very slight descendant force was produced, which, in combination at a certain angle with a very powerful and slightly oblique ascendant force, produced the resultant of a vertical ascensional force. The inverse produced the vertical descendant movement, easy to obtain in any case by releasing the negopos to the extent of suppressing its efficacy completely; it then obeyed the law of gravitation and fell with a velocity that I could moderate at will.
In consequence, I perfected my mechanism, which it became possible for me to design in such a way as always to obtain the desired results by means of very simple movements of the aforementioned stem. The invention was complete in all its essentials.
I was still ambitious with regard to elegance. I would have liked to be able to simplify the system sufficiently for it to be possible to use it while hiding it completely under one’s garments. The effect of which I was dreaming is easy to imagine.
A man dressed like anyone else is strolling casually, without anything in his movements or his gait giving rise to the suspicion that he is strapped underneath from head to toe, or that he is hiding somewhere—under his hat, for example—an object in the form of a pear. Negligently, he puts his hand into his pocket or inside his jacket, turns a little handle that no one can see, and suddenly rises into the air, where he describes the most capricious curves, more rapid in his movements than the birds, which he catches on the wing.
I could not obtain that complete result—but I was very near it.
A negopos could be paced above the head, in such a way as indeed to be covered by a hat. The straps descending from the suspension points could be hidden beneath a wig, artificial hair extensions, the collar of an overcoat or a muffler. As for those directly supporting the body, nothing was simpler than to hide them under clothing. The end of the negoposian stem could be placed inside the jacket, within reach of the left hand, which was sufficient to manipulate it, the right hand remaining free.
I have to agree, however, that the result of all that was a slightly strange and rather stiff accoutrement that could not fail to be noticed. The head, especially, was considerably inconvenienced. Furthermore, one was obliged
to maintain an upright position, without being able to assume that of a man sitting or sprawling in an armchair.
I imagined another system, which led me to change the form of the negopos radically. I made it into a kind of collar, applying it to the shoulders and the upper part of the chest, almost like the collar-piece of ancient suits of armor. It was made up of three circles, swollen at the back and very thin at the front. The principle was, however, the same as for the sphero-conical negopos. The inferior and superior circles were neg, the intermediate circle pos. They could be separated or brought together by means of a mechanism still brought into play by a stem whose tip was within reach of my left hand. The straps extended from that collar, sustaining the body in a comfortable position, a little more similar than the preceding one to a sitting position. The head was free—a great advantage.
The negopos necklace was easy to hide under the collar of an overcoat, a slightly large cravat and a muffler. One merely seemed to be dissimulating a goiter or some skin complaint affecting the neck. But I could not find anything better, and that arrangement appeared to me to be sufficiently close enough to the goal that I renounced trying to attain it more completely.
Those who have not observed the perpendicularity that a suspended body conserves when only the point of suspension is in motion might think that the force of impulsion, acting above the shoulders, would draw the head and the upper part of the body with it, the rest following in an inclined position. That is not the case, unless the impulsion is applied abruptly or increased too rapidly. I still found myself a little too upright, however, not sufficiently sitting. In order to remedy that, I decided only to use the negopos necklace as a means of suspension and to provide impulsion by means of a second sphero-conical negopos disposed in front of the body, almost in the position of a belt-buckle, to which the straps would be strongly fitted.
I found a second advantage in that arrangement, which was not to be disdained; the two negoposes could substitute for one another, in such a way that if one of them stopped working for some reason, one would not fall to the ground as a result. One would remain suspended by the other, by means of which one could still steer. The left hand would still suffice to operate both.
The preceding remarks suffice to provide the key to the incidents, so bizarre and so resonant, by means of which my discovery was manifested. Before producing it, I wanted to take account of all the applications to which it was susceptible.
Aerial locomotion was one of those applications, and perhaps the most considerable, but there were others whose importance ought not to be neglected.
I had, in sum, discovered a new motor, of indefinite power, so economical that the expense necessary for its operation could be considered negligible.
The construction, however, of one negopos cost me rather dear; the pos cost me half its weight in gold, the neg slightly more than its weight in silver. The two negaposes that I employed for individual locomotion cost me, in total, nearly five thousand francs. That was a great deal for my experiments, but it was nothing compared with the results obtained. In any case, it was certain that when, instead of constructing them myself in my laboratory, with difficulty, I could organize mass production, the cost would be considerably reduced.
The motor was, therefore, inexpensive to produce and its running costs were negligible. One can see immediately what immense results could be obtained by applying it to all the machines used in industry. In addition to the simplification of the machines themselves, there would be a pure and simple elimination of fuel costs.
It was only a matter of organizing the negopos as a motor. That was easy.
I constructed a simple negopos, similar in form to a spindle, with the ends flattened in a certain fashion. I placed it between two grooved uprights, along which one of its points slid. It was positioned horizontally at the top of the system, pos downwards. It fell downwards, sliding along the grooves. Near the bottom, they were fitted with conveniently-disposed buffers. At the moment when the flattened ends of the negopos encountered that obstacle, it carried out a rotational movement by virtue of which the neg, in its turn, was orientated downwards. Immediately, the negopos rose up with considerable force between its two uprights, until similar buffers, place near the top, caused it to turn pos-downwards once more and fall again.
I shall pass over detailed description of the means by which I maintained the system in such a way that these movements were carried out regularly without the negopos being able to turn over except in the desired manner, nor slip out of the grooves, etc. I have said enough to make it understood how I obtained a back-and-forth movement analogous to that of the pistons of a steam engine—except that the volume of the apparatus was much less and the power very much greater. In addition, by the same token, I had discovered perpetual motion—perpetual, at least, save for the wear and tear on the system produced over an exceedingly long time.
But the discovery of perpetual motion was only a matter of curiosity. At the most, it might be utilized in the perfection of clockwork. What had an immense scope was the discovery of a motor capable of being applied to all imaginable machines. I held in my hands an industrial revolution, the slightest consequence of which ought to be worth millions to me as soon as it was put to work, and perhaps hundreds of millions. Nevertheless, these results paled by comparison with those I perceived in consequence of aerial locomotion.
Once my ideas regarding the application of my discovery to machines were clearly fixed, I ceased to occupy myself with them, and only thought about making arrangements for its first application, of which I wanted to make a previously unparalleled coup de théâtre.
IV. The Preparations
I had long ago organized the details of my existence with that goal in mind, living in virtual isolation, sometimes in Paris and sometimes in a property I had acquired, passing for an unsociable person and behaving as such, by dint of the irregularity of my habits, so that my absence and presence went equally unnoticed. Furthermore, I had succeeded, by virtue of exercise, in being able to write with my left hand as fluently as with the right. My second handwriting, which no one had ever seen, did not resemble at all the one by which I was known. I then succeeded, albeit with great difficulty—for I did not was to make any declaration to the authorities—in procuring an autographic press, which I installed in the country in great secrecy, in a turret adjacent to my study, where no one ever went but me.
I shall omit a number of organizational details with regard to my projects, as those I have given are sufficient for an understanding of how I was able to succeed in putting them into execution.
One might wonder why I employed so much precaution, scheming and mystery, as if I were meditating a crime. Could I not have taken out patents and exploited my discovery without recourse to those tortuous means?
The reasons for not proceeding in that way seemed to me to be powerful. I could only obtain patents by explaining my discovery in descriptive documents. That would reveal it in such a way that anyone could duplicate it. There was no hope of preventing counterfeiting by means of lawsuits; what can be done against people who can flee by taking to the air? To apply for patents would, in reality, deliver my invention to anyone.
Concern for my personal interests was the least consideration hindering me from divulging it thus. It was evident that, from the day that my discovery was known, there would be no more States, countries or distinct nations. All the barriers that separate peoples would be abolished at a stroke. In the long run, that would be a great benefit, but at first, it would surely be a great sin abruptly to abandon such a revolution to the hazards of the unknown and all the enterprises of the adventurous. Some country more prompt than others to put it to work might achieve world domination. And who could tell whether France, far from finding, as I desired, a cause of grandeur in the work of one of her children, might not be the first to suffer and soon descend to the bottom rank of nations? On the contrary, I wanted my country to be in advance of all the rest, which ne
cessitated secrecy to be profoundly guarded until I had reached an understanding with the government regarding the measures to be taken.
An imprudent and hasty revelation might have other consequences even more deadly. It might render all social policing impossible and deliver the world to the most dangerous malefactors. Theft, pillage, murder, arson and the most odious acts of violence might escape all repression. There would be no more security, nor property, nor protection for the weak, not any social organization whatsoever. There would be chaos, universal ruination; violence would be master of the world: a frightful disorganization.
It was, therefore, necessary to take numerous measures of precaution before surrendering my secret—hence the necessity of letting absolutely nothing slip before the appointed moment. Now, I could only forearm myself as best I could against any possibility of indiscretion by means of a radical elimination of friends who might have divined something, and assistants, workers and domestics who might perhaps have suspected something of the goal that I was pursuing. In consequence, I did almost everything by myself.
I had a forge, a lathe, a crucible, and everything else necessary for chemical manipulations, and the implements employed in numerous state organizations. In the course of my experiments, however, I confided the fabrication of various components to blacksmiths, mechanics, the makers of ropes and straps, and so on—but only those that could not lead to any suspicion of the truth, and, as I had taken out a patent on a kind of brake adopted by several railways companies, no one ever imagined that I was occupied in anything other than inventions related to railways, and new braking systems in particular.