Off The Main Sequence

by Robert A. Heinlein

  “Well — I had hoped that we could get enough sunpower off the roof to run the factory, but if it takes twenty square yards to get one horsepower, it won’t be enough."

  “Cheer up, Baby Face. We doped out a screen that would vibrate only in the band of visible light; I guess we can dope out another that will be atomic — one that will vibrate to any wave length. Then it will soak up any radiant energy that hits it, and give it up again as electrical power. With this roof surface we can get maybe a thousand horsepower at high noon. Then we’ll have to set tip banks of storage batteries so that we can store power for cloudy days and night shifts."

  She blinked her big blue eyes at him. “Archie, does your head ever ache?"

  Twenty minutes later he was back at his desk, deep in the preliminary calculations, while Mary Lou threw together a scratch breakfast She interrupted his study to ask:

  “Where’d’ja hide that bottle, Lug?"

  He looked up and replied, “It’s immoral for little girls to drink in broad daylight."

  “Come out of the gutter, chum. I want to turn these hotcakes into crepes Suzette, using corn liquor instead of brandy."

  “Never mind the creative cookery, Dr. Martin. I’ll take mine straight I need my health to finish this job."

  She turned around and brandished the skillet at him. “To hear is to obey, my Lord. However, Archie, you are an over-educated Neanderthal, with no feeling for the higher things Of life."

  “I won’t argue the point, Blonde Stuff but take a gander at this. I’ve got the answer — a screen that vibrates all down the scale."

  “No foolin’, Archie?"

  “No foolin’, kid. It was already implied in our earlier experiments, but we were so busy trying to build a screen that wouldn’t vibrate at random, we missed it. I ran into something else, too."

  “Tell mama!"

  “We can build screens to radiate in the infrared just as easily as cold light screens. Get it? Heating units of any convenient size or shape, economical and with no high wattage or extreme temperatures to make 'em fire hazards or dangerous to children. As I see it, we can design these screens to, one —" he ticked the points off on his fingers — “take power from the sun at nearly one hundred percent efficiency; two, deliver it as cold light; or three, as heat; or four, as electrical power. We can bank 'em in series to get any required voltage; we can bank in parallel to get any required current, and the power is absolutely free, except for the installation costs."

  She stood and watched him in silence for several seconds before speaking. “All that from trying to make a cheaper light. Come eat your breakfast, Steinmetz. You men can’t do your work on mush."

  They ate in silence, each busy with new thoughts. Finally Douglas spoke. “Mary Lou, do you realize just how big a thing this is?"

  “I’ve been thinking about it."

  “It’s enormous. Look, the power that can be tapped is incredible. The sun pours over two hundred and thirty trillion horsepower onto the earth all the time and we use almost none of it."

  “As much as that, Archie?"

  “I didn’t believe my own figures when I worked it out, so I looked it up in Richardson’s Astronomy. Why, we could recover more than twenty thousand horsepower in any city block. Do you know what that means? Free power! Riches for everybody! It’s the greatest thing since the steam engine." He stopped suddenly, noticing her glum face. “What’s the matter, kid, am I wrong someplace?"

  She fiddled with her fork before replying. “No, Archie — you’re not wrong. I’ve been thinking about it, too. Decentralized cities, labor-saving machinery for everybody, luxuries — it’s all possible, but I’ve a feeling that we’re staring right into a mess of trouble. Did you ever hear of 'Breakages Ltd.’?’

  “What is it, a salvage concern?"

  “Not by a hell of a sight. You ought to read something besides the 'Proceedings of the American Society of Physical Engineers.’ George Bernard Shaw, for instance. It’s from the preface of Back to Methuselah, and is a sardonic way of describing the combined power of corporate industry to resist any change that might threaten their dividends. You threaten the whole industrial set-up, son, and you’re in danger right where you’re sitting. What do

  you think happened to atomic power?"

  He pushed back his chair. “Oh, surely not. You’re just tired and jumpy. Industry welcomes invention. Why, all the big corporations have their research departments with some of the best minds in the country working in them. And they are in atomics up to their necks."

  “Sure — and any bright young inventor can get a job with them. And then he’s a kept man — the inventions belong to the corporation, and only those that fit into the pattern of the powers-that-be ever see light. The rest are shelved. Do you really think that they’d let a free lance like you upset investments of billions of dollars?"

  He frowned, then relaxed and laughed. “Oh, forget it, kid, it’s not that serious."

  “That’s what you think. Did you ever hear of celanese voile? Probably not. It’s a synthetic dress material used in place of chiffon. But it wore better and was washable, and it only cost about forty cents a yard, while chiffon costs four times as much. You can’t buy it any more.

  “And take razor blades. My brother bought one about five years ago that never had to be re-sharpened. He’s still using it, but if he ever loses it, he’ll have to go back to the old kind. They took 'em off the market.

  “Did you ever hear of guys who had found a better, cheaper fuel than gasoline? One showed up about four years ago and proved his claims — but he drowned a couple of weeks later in a swimming accident. I don’t say that he was murdered, but it’s damn funny that they never found his formula.

  “And that reminds me — I once saw a clipping from the Los Angeles Daily News. A man bought a heavy standard make car in San Diego, filled her up and drove her to Los Angeles. He only used two gallons. Then he drove to Agua Caliente and back to San Diego, and only used three gallons. About a week later the sales company found him and bribed him to make an exchange. By mistake they had let him have a car that wasn’t to be sold — one with a trick carburetor.

  “Do you know any big heavy cars that get seventy miles to the gallon? You’re not likely to — not while 'Breakages Ltd.’ rules the roost. But the story is absolutely kosher — you can look it up in the files.

  “And of course, everybody knows that automobiles aren’t built to wear, they’re built to wear out, so you will buy a new one. They build 'em just as bad as the market will stand. Steamships take a worse beating than a car, and they last thirty years or more."

  Douglas laughed it off. “Cut 'out the gloom, Sweetie Pie. You’ve got a persecution complex. Let’s talk about something more cheerful — you and me, for instance. You make pretty good coffee. How about us taking out a license to live together?"

  She ignored him.

  'Well, why not. I’m young and healthy. You could do worse."

  “Archie, did I ever tell you about the native chief that got a yen for me down in South America?"

  “I don’t think so. What about him?"

  “He wanted me to marry him. He even offered to kill off his seventeen current wives and have them served up for the bridal feast."

  “What’s that got to do with my proposition?"

  “I should have taken him up. A girl can’t afford to turn down a good offer these days."

  Archie walked up and down the laboratory, smoking furiously. Mary Lou perched on a workbench and watched him with troubled eyes. When he stopped to light another cigaret from the butt of the last, she bid for attention.

  “Well, Master Mind, how does it look to you now?"

  He finished lighting his cigarete, burned himself, cursed in a monotone, then replied, “oh, you were right, Cassandra. We’re in more trouble than I ever knew existed. First when we build an electric runabout that gets its power from the sun while it’s parked at the curb, somebody pours kerosene over it and burns it up. I d
idn’t mind that so much — it was just a side issue. But when I refuse to sell out to them, they slap all those phoney law suits on us, and tie us up like a kid with the colic."

  “They haven’t a legal leg to stand on."

  “I know that, but they’ve got unlimited money and we haven’t. They can run these suits Out for months — maybe years — only we can’t last that long."

  “What’s our next move? Do you keep this appointment?"

  “I don’t want to. They’ll try to buy me off again, and probably threaten me, in a refined way. I’d tell 'em to go to hell, if it wasn’t for Dad. Somebody’s broken into his house twice now, and he’s too old to stand that sort of thing."

  “I suppose all this labor trouble in the plant worries him, too."

  “Of course it does. And since it dates from the time we started manufacturing the screens on a commercial scale, I’m sure it’s part of the frame-up. Dad never had any labor trouble before. He always ran a union shop and treated his men like members of his own family. I don’t blame him for being nervous. I’m getting tired of being followed everywhere I go, myself. It makes me jumpy."

  Mary Lou puffed out a cloud of smoke. “I’ve been tailed the past couple of weeks."

  “The hell you have! Mary Lou, that tears it. I’m going to settle this thing today."

  “Going to sell out?"

  “No." He walked over to his desk, opened a side drawer, took out a .38 automatic, and slipped it in his pocket. Mary Lou jumped down from the bench and ran to him. She put her hands on his shoulders, and looked up at him, fear in her face.

  “Archie!"

  He answered gently. “Yes, kid."

  “Archie, don’t do anything rash. If anything happened to you, you know damn well I couldn’t get along with a normal man."

  He patted her hair. “Those are the best words I’ve heard in weeks, kid."

  Douglas returned about one P.M. Mary Lou met him at the elevator. “Well?"

  “Same old song-and-dance. Nothing done in spite of my brave promises."

  “Did they threaten you?"

  “Not exactly. They asked me how much life insurance I carried."

  “What did you tell them?"

  “Nothing. I reached for my handkerchief and let them see that I was carrying a gun. I thought it might cause them to revise any immediate plans they might have in mind. After that the interview sort of fizzled out and I left. Mary’s little lamb followed me home, as usual."

  “Same plug-ugly that shadowed you yesterday?"

  “Him, or his twin. He couldn’t be a twin, though, come to think about it. They’d have both died of fright at birth."

  “True enough. Have you had lunch?"

  “Not yet. Let’s ease down to the shop lunch room and take on some groceries. We can do our worrying later."

  The lunch room was deserted. They talked very little. Mary Lou’s blue eyes stared vacantly over his head. At the second cup of coffee she reached out and touched him.

  “Archie, do you know the ancient Chinese advice to young ladies about to undergo criminal assault?"

  “No, what is it?"

  “Just one word: 'Relax.’ That’s what we’ve got to do."

  “Speak English."

  “I’ll give you a blueprint Why are we under attack?"

  “We’ve got something they want."

  “Not at all. We’ve got something they want to quarantine — they don’t want anyone else to have it. So they try to buy you off, or scare you into quitting. If these don’t work, they’ll try something stronger. Now you’re dangerous to them and in danger from them because you’ve got a secret. What happens if it isn’t a secret? Suppose everybody knows it?"

  “They’d be sore as hell."

  “Yes, but what would they do? Nothing. Those big tycoons are practical men. They won’t waste a dime on heckling you if It no longer serves their pocketbooks."

  “What do you propose that we do?"

  “Give away the secret. Tell the world bow it’s done. Let anybody manufacture power screens and light screens who wants to. The heat process on the mix is so simple that any commercial chemist can duplicate it once you tell 'em how, and there must be a thousand factories, at least, that could manufacture them with their present machinery from materials at their very doorsteps."

  “But, good Lord, Mary Lou, we’d be left in the lurch."

  “What can you lose? We’ve made a measly couple of thousand dollars so far, keeping the process secret. If you turn it loose, you still hold the patent, and you could charge a nominal royalty — one that it wouldn’t be worth while trying to beat, say ten cents a square yard on each screen manufactured. There would be millions of square yards turned out the fist year — hundreds of thousands of dollars to you the first year, and a big income for life. You can have the finest research laboratory in the’ country."

  He slammed his napkin down on the table. “Kid, I believe you’re right."

  “Don’t. forget, too, what you’ll be doing for the country. There’ll be factories springing up right away all over the Southwest — every place where there’s iota of sunshine. Free power! You’ll be the new emancipator."

  He stood up, his eyes shining. “Kid, we’ll do it! Half a minute while I tell Dad our decision, then we’ll beat it for town."

  Two hours later the teletype In every news service office in the country was clicking out the story. Douglas insisted that the story include the technical details of the process as a condition of releasing it. By the time he and Mary Lou walked out of the Associated Press building the first extra was on the street: “GENIUS GRANTS GRATIS POWER TO PUBLIC." Archie bought one and beckoned to the muscle man who was shadowing him.

  “Come here, Sweetheart. You can quit pretending to be a fireplug. I’ve an errand for you." He handed the lunk the newspaper. It was accepted uneasily. In all his long and unsavory career he had never had the etiquette of shadowing treated in so cavalier a style. “Take this paper to your boss and tell him Archie Douglas sent him a valentine. Don’t stand there staring at me! Beat it, before I break your fat head!"

  As Archie watched him disappear in the crowd, Mary Lou slipped a hand in his. “Feel better, son?"

  “Lots."

  “All your worries over?"

  “All but one." He grabbed her shoulders and swung her 'around. “I’ve got an argument to settle with you. Come along!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out into the crosswalk.

  “What the hell, Archie! Let go my wrist."

  “Not likely. You see that building over there? That’s the court house. Right next to the window where they issue dog licenses, there’s one where we can get a wedding permit."

  “I’m not going to marry you!"

  “The’ hell you aren’t. You’ve stayed all night in my laboratory a dozen times. I’m compromised. You’ve got to make an honest man of me — or I’ll start to scream right here in the street."

  “This is blackmail!"

  As they entered the building, she was still dragging her feet — but not too hard.

  Beyond Doubt

  Astonishing Stories, April 1941 as by Lyle Monroe and Elma Wentz

  From the June number of The Science Review

  SAVANT SOLVES SECRET OF EASTER ISLAND IMAGES

  According to Professor J. Howard Erlenmeyer, Sc.D., Ph.D., F.R.S., director of the Archeological Society’s Easter Island Expedition. Professor Erlenmeyer was quoted as saying, “There can no longer be any possible doubt as to the significance of the giant monolithic images which are found in Easter Island. When one considers the primary place held by religious matters in all primitive cultures, and compares the design of these images with artifacts used in the rites of present day Polynesian tribes, the conclusion is inescapable that these images have a deep esoteric religious significance. Beyond doubt, their large size, their grotesque exaggeration of human form, and the seemingly aimless, but actually systematic, distribution gives evidence of the use for which they were carve
d, to wit; the worship of… ."

  WARM, and incredibly golden, the late afternoon sun flooded the white-and-green city of Nuria, gilding its maze of circular criss-crossed streets. The Towers of the Guardians, rising high above the lushly verdant hills gleamed like translucent ivory. The hum from the domed buildings of the business district was muted while merchants rested in the cool shade of luxuriant, moistly green trees, drank refreshing okrada, and gazed out at the great hook-prowed green-and-crimson ships riding at anchor in the harbor-ships from Hindos, from Cathay, and from the far-flung colonies of Atlantis.

  In all the broad continent of Mu there was no city more richly beautiful than Muria, capitol of the province of Lac.

  But despite the smiling radiance of sun, and sea, and sky, there was an undercurrent of atmospheric tenseness -as though the air itself were a tight coil about to be sprung, as though a small spark would set off a cosmic explosion.

  Through the city moved the sibilant whispering of a name-the name was everywhere, uttered in loathing and fear, or in high hope, according to the affiliations of the utterer-but in any mouth the name had the potency of thunder.

  The name was Talus.

  Talus, apostle of the common herd; Talus, on whose throbbing words hung the hopes of a million eager citizens; Talus, candidate for governor of the province of Lac.

  In the heart of the tenement district, near the smelly waterfront, between a narrow side street and a garbage alley was the editorial office of Mu Regenerate, campaign organ of the Talus-for-Governor organization. The office was as quiet as the rest of Nuria, but with the quiet of a spent cyclone. The floor was littered with twisted scraps of parchment, overturned furniture, and empty beer flagons. Three young men were seated about a great, round, battered table in attitudes that spoke their gloom. One of them was staring cynically at an enormous poster which dominated one wall of the room. It was a portrait of a tall, majestic man with a long, curling white beard. He wore a green toga. One hand was raised in a gesture of benediction. Over the poster, under the crimson-and-purple of crossed Murian banners, was the legend:

  TALUS FOR GOVERNOR!