Pygmalion Spectacles. This is a Librebox recording. All Librebox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit Librebox.org. Recording by Crystal Layton. Pygmalion Spectacles by Stanley Grumman Weimbomb. What is reality? As a known like man, he gestured at the tall banks of buildings that loomed around Central Park, with their countless windows glowing like the cave fires of a city of pro-magnum people. All is dream, all is illusion. I am your vision as you are mine. Dan Burke, struggling for clarity, have fought through the fumes of liquor, stared without comprehension at the tiny figure of his companion. He began to regret the impulse that had driven him to leave the party to seek fresh air in the park, and to fall by chance to the company of this diminutive old madman. But he needed escape. This was one party too many, and not even the presence of Claire with her trim ankles could hold him there. He felt an angry desire to go home, not to his hotel, but home to Chicago into the comparative peace of the Board of Trade. But he was leaving tomorrow anyway.  To make real a dream, is it not so? It is a dream that what you seek is yours, or else a dream that what you hate is conquered. You drink to escape reality, and the irony is that even reality is a dream. Cracked, thought Dan again. Or so, concluded the other, says the philosopher Berkeley. Berkeley? Echo Dan? His head was clearing memories of a sophomore course in elementary philosophy drifted back. Bishop Berkeley, eh? You know him, then. The philosopher of idealism, no? The one who argues that we do not see, feel, hear, taste the object, but that we have only the sensation of seeing, feeling, hearing, tasting. I sort of recall it. But sensations are mental phenomena. They exist in our minds. How then do we know that the objects themselves do not exist only in our minds? He waved again at the light-flect buildings. You do not see that wall of masonry. You perceive only a sensation of feeling sight. The rest you interpret. You see the same thing, retorted Dan. How do you know I do? Even if you knew that what I call red would not be green, could you see through my eyes? Even if you knew that, how do you know that I too am not a dream of yours? Dan laughed. Of course nobody knows anything. You just get one information you can through the windows of your five senses, and then you make your guesses. When they're wrong, you pay the penalty. His mind was clear now saved for a mild headache. Listen, he said suddenly. You can argue a reality away to an illusion. That's easy. But if your friend Berkeley is right, why can't you take a dream and make it real? If it works one way, it must work the other. The beard waggled, elf-bright eyes glittered clearly at him. All artists do that, said the old man softly. Dan felt that something more quivered on the verge of utterance. That's an evasion, he grunted. Anybody can tell the difference between a picture and the real thing, or between a movie and life. But, whispered the other. The realer the better, no. And if one could make a movie very real indeed, what would you say then? Nobody can though. The eyes glittered strangely again. I can, he whispered. I did. Did what? Made a real a dream. The voice turned angry. Fools, I bring it here to sell to Westman, the camera people. And what did they say? It isn't clear. Only one person can use it at a time. It's too expensive. Fools, fools! Huh? Listen, I'm Albert Ludwig, Professor Ludwig. As Dan was silent, he continued. It means nothing to you, huh? But listen, a movie that gives one sight and sound. Suppose now I add taste, smell, even touch. If your interest is taken by the story, suppose I make it so that you are in the story. You speak to the shadows and the shadows reply.  Would that be to make real a dream? How the devil could you do that? How? How? But simply, first my liquid positive, then my magic spectacles. I photograph the story in a liquid with light sensitive chromates. I build up a complex solution, do you see? I add taste chemically and sound electronically. And when the story is recorded, then I put the solution in my spectacle, my movie projector. I electrolyze the solution, break it down. The older chromates go first and out comes the story, sight, sound, smell, taste, all. Touch? If your interest is taken, your mind supplies that. Eagerness crept into his voice. You will look at it, Mr. Burke, said Dan. A swindle, he thought. Then a spark of recklessness glowed out of the vanishing fumes of alcohol. Why not, he grunted. He rose, lewd to extending, came scarcely to his shoulder. A queer, gnome-like old man Dan thought as he followed him across the park and into one of the scores of apartment hotels in the vicinity. In his room, Ludwig fumbled in a bag producing a device vaguely reminiscent of a gas mask. There were goggles and a rubber mouthpiece. Dan examined it curiously while the little bearded professor brandished a bottle of watery liquid. Here it is, he gloated. My liquid positive, the story. Our photography. Inferno-ly hard, therefore the simplest story. A utopia, just two characters and you, the audience. Now put the spectacles on.  He decanted some of the liquid into the mask and trailed a twist wire to a device on the table. A rectifier, he explained, for the electrolysis. Must you use all the liquid, asked Dan? If you use part, do you see only part of the story and which part? Each drop has all of it, but you must fill the eyepieces. Then as Dan slipped the device gingerly on. So, now what do you see? Not a damn thing, just the windows and the lights across the street. Of course, but now I start the electrolysis, now! There was a moment of chaos, liquid before Dan's eyes clouded suddenly white and formless sounds buzzed. He moved to tear the device from his head but emerging forms in the mistiness caught his interest. Giant things were writhing there. The scene studied the whiteness was dissipating like mist in summer. Dan, believing still gripping the arms of that unseen chair, he was staring at a forest. But what a forest! Incredible, unearthly beautiful. Smooth bulls ascended inconveniently toward a brightening sky. Trees bizarre as the forest of the Carboniferous Age. Infinitely overhead swayed misty fronds and the verdu showed brown and green in the heights. And there were birds, at least curiously lovely pipings and twittings were all about him, though he saw no creatures. Thin elf and whistling like fairy bugles sounded softly. He sat frozen and tranced. A loud fragment of melody drifted down to him, mounting an exquisite ecstatic bursts and a clear sounding meadow, now soft as remembered music. For a moment he forgot the chair whose arms he gripped, the miserable hotel room invisibly about him. Oh Ludwig, his aching head! He imagined himself alone in the midst of that lovely glade. Eden, he muttered, and the swelling music of unseen voices answered. Some measure of reason returned. Illusion, he told himself. Clever optic device is not reality. He groped for the chair's arm, found it and clung to it. He scraped his feet and found again an inconsistency. To his eyes the ground was mossy verdure. To his touch it was really a thin hotel carpet. The elf and bugling sounded gently. A faint, deliciously sweet perfume breathed against him. He glanced up to watch the opening of a great crimson blossom on the nearest tree and a tiny reddish sun edged into a circle of sky above him. The fairy orchestra swelled louder in its light and the note sent a thrill of wistfulness through him. Illusion, if it were it made reality almost unbearable. He wanted to believe that somewhere, somewhere this side of dreams there actually existed this region of loveliness. An outpost of paradise. Perhaps. And then, far through the softening mists he caught a movement that was not the swaying of verdure. A shimmer of sober more solid than mist. Something approached. He watched the figure as it moved, now visible, now hidden by trees. Very soon he perceived that it was human. But it was almost upon him before he realized that it was a girl.  Her tiny white feet were bare to the mossy forest floor and stood no more than a pace from him, staring dark-eyed. The thin music sounded again. She smiled. Dan summoned stumbling thoughts. Was his being also illusion? Had she no more reality than the loveliness of the forest? He opened his lips to speak, but a strained, excited voice sounded in his ears. Who are you? Have you spoken? The voice had come as if from another, like the sound of one's words and fever. The girl smiled again. English! She said in queer, soft tones. I can speak a little English. She spoke slowly, carefully. I learned it from... She hesitated. My mother's father, whom they call the Gray Weaver, again came the voice in Dan's ears. Who are you? I am called Galatea, she said. I came to find you. To find me? Echoed the voice that was Dan's. Lucan, who was called the Gray Weaver, told me. She explained, smiling. He said you will stay with us until the second noon from this. She cast a quick, slanting glance at the pale sun, now full above the clearing, then stepped closer. What are you called? Dan, he muttered. His voice sounded oddly different. What a strange name, said the girl. She stretched out her bare arm. Come, she smiled. Dan touched her extended hand, feeling without any surprise a living warmth of her fingers. He had forgotten the paradoxes of illusion. This was no longer illusion to him, but reality itself. It seemed to him that he followed her, walking over the shadowed turf that gave with springy crunch beneath his tread, though Galatea left hardly an imprint. He glanced down, noting that he himself wore a silver garment, and that his feet were bare. With the glance, he felt a feathery breeze on his body and a sense of mossy earth on his feet. Galatea said his voice. Galatea, what place is this? What language do you speak? She glanced back, laughing. Why, this is Paracosma, of course. And this is our language. Paracosma, muttered Dan. Paracosma? A fragment of Greek that has survived somehow from a sophomore course a decade in the past, came strangely back to him. Paracosma, land beyond the world. Galatea cast a smiling glance at him. Does the real world seem strange, she queried, after that shadow land of yours? Shadow land, echoed Dan bewildered. This is shadow, not my world. The girl's smile turned quizzical. Poof, she retorted with an impudently lovely pout. And I suppose, then, that I am the phantom instead of you, she laughed. Do I seem ghost-like? Dan made no reply. He was puzzling over unanswerable questions as he trod behind the lithe figure of his guide. The aisle between the unearthly trees widened, and the giants were fewer. It seemed a mile perhaps before a sound of tinkling water obscured that other strange music. They emerged on the bank of a little river, swift and crystalline, that rippled and gurgled its way from glowing pool to flashing rapids, sparkling under the pale sun. Galatea bent over the brink and cupped her hands, raising a few mouthfuls of water to her lips. Dan followed her example, finding the liquid stinging cold. How do we cross, he asked? You can wade up there. The dry-eyed who led him gestured to a sunlit shallows above a tiny falls. But I always cross here. She poised herself for a moment on the green bank, then dove like a silver arrow into the pool. Dan followed. The water stung his body like champagne, but a stroker too carried him across to where Galatea had already emerged with the glistening of creamy bare limbs. Her garment clung tight as a metal sheath to her wet body. He felt a breathtaking thrill at the sight of her. And then miraculously, the silver cloth was dry, the droplets rolled off as if from oiled silk, and they moved briskly on. The incredible forest had ended with the river. They walked over a meadow studded with little, many huge star-shaped flowers, whose fronds underfoot were soft as a lawn. Yet still the sweet pipings followed them, now loud, now whisper soft, in a tenuous web of melody. Galatea, said Dan Fennelly, where is the music coming from? She looked back amazed.  From the flowers, of course. See? She plucked a purple star and held it to his ear, true enough of faint and plaintive melody, hummed out of the blossom.  A little cops appeared ahead, not of the gigantic forest trees, but of lesser gross, bearing flowers and fruits of iridescent colors, and a tiny brook bubbled through, and theirs to the objective of their journey, a building of white marble-like stone, single-storied and bind-covered, with broad, glassless windows. They trod of a path of bright pebbles to the arched entrance, and here, on an intricate stone bench, at a gray-bearded patriarchal individual, Galatea addressed him in a liquid language that reminded Dan of the flower-pipings since she turned. This is Lucan, she said, as the ancient rose from his seat and spoke in English. We are happy, Galatea and I, to welcome you, since visitors are a rare pleasure here, and those from your shadowy country most rare. Dan uttered puzzled words of thanks, and the old man nodded, receding himself on the carven bench. Galatea skipped through the arched entrance and Dan, after an irresolute moment, dropped to the remaining bench. Once more his thoughts were whirling in perplexed turbulence. Was all this indeed but illusion? Was he sitting in actuality in a prosaic hotel room peering through magical spectacles that pictured this world about him? Or was he transported by some miracle, really sitting here in this land of loveliness? He touched the bench stone-hard and unyielding, met his fingers. Lucan said his voice, How did you know I was coming? I was told, said the other. By whom? By no one. Why, someone must have told you. The grey weaver shook his solemn head. I was just told. Dan seized his questioning, content for the moment to drink the beauty about him, and then Galatea returned, bearing a crystal bowl of the strange fruits. They were piled in colourful disorder, red, purple, orange and yellow, pear-shaped, egg-shaped and clustered spheroids. Fantastic unearthly. He selected a pale, transparent ovid, bit into it and was deluged by a flood of sweet liquid to the amusement of the girl. She laughed and chose a similar morsel, biting a tiny puncture in the end. She squeezed the contents into her mouth. Dan took a different sort, purple and tart as rainish wine, and then another, filled with edible, almond-like seeds. Galatea laughed delightedly at his surprises and even Leucon smiled a grey smile. Finally, Dan tossed the last husk into the brick beside him, where it danced briskly toward the river. Galatea, he said, Do you ever go to a city? What city is there in Paracosma? Cities? What are cities? Places where many people live close together. Oh, said the girl frowning. No, there are no cities here. Then where are the people of Paracosma? You must have neighbors. The girl looked puzzled. A man and a woman live off there, she said gesturing toward a distant blue range of hills dimming the horizon. Far away over there. I went there once, but Leucon and I prefer the valley. But Galatea, protested Dan, Are you and Leucon alone in this valley? Where, what happened to your parents? Your father and mother? They went away. That way, towards the sunrise, they'll return someday. And if they don't, why foolish one, what could hinder them? Wild beasts, said Dan, poisonous insects, disease, flood, storm, lawless people, death. I never heard those words to Galatea. There are no such things here. She sniffed contemptuously, lawless people. Not death? What is death? It's Dan paused helplessly. It's like falling asleep and never waking. It's what happens to everyone at the end of life. I have never heard of such a thing as the end of life, said the girl decidedly. There isn't such a thing. What happens then, queried Dan desperately, when one grows old? Nothing silly. No one grows old unless one wants to, like Leucon. A person grows to the age he likes best and then stops. It's a law. Dan gathered his chaotic thoughts. He stared into Galatea's dark, lovely eyes.  The dark eyes dropped. He was amazed to see a deep, embarrassed flesh spread over her cheeks. She looked at Leucon nodding reflectively on his bench, then back to Dan, meeting his gaze. Not yet, he said. And when will you, Galatea? When I have had the one child permitted me. You see, she stared at her dainty toes. One cannot bear children afterwards. Permitted? Permitted by whom? By a law. Laws? Is everything here governed by laws? What of chance and accidents? What are those? Chance and accidents? Things unexpected, things unforeseen. Nothing is unforeseen, so Galatea is still soberly. She repeated slowly. Nothing is unforeseen. He fancied her voice was wistful. Leucon looked up. Enough of this, he said abruptly. He turned to Dan. I know these words of yours, chance, disease, death. They are not for para-cosma. Keep them in your unreal country. Where did you hear them then? From Galatea's mother, said the gray weaver, who had them from your predecessor, a phantom who visited here before Galatea was born. Dan had a vision of Ludwig's face. What was he like?  But his name. The old man's mouth was suddenly grim. We do not speak of him. He said in rows entering the dwelling in a cold silence. He goes to weave. Said Galatea after a moment, her lovely pecan face was still troubled. What does he weave? This? She fingered the silver cloth of her gown. He weaves it out of metal bars on a very clever machine. I do not know the method. Who made the machine? It was here. But Galatea, who built the house, who plaited these fruit trees? They were here. The house and the trees were always here. She lifted her eyes. I told you everything had been foreseen from the beginning until eternity. Everything. The house and the trees and machine were ready for Lucan and my parents and me. There is a place for my child, a girl and a place for her child, and so on forever. Dad thought a moment. Were you born here? I don't know. He noted in sudden concern that her eyes were glistening with tears. Galatea, dear, why are you unhappy? What's wrong? Why nothing. She shook her black curls, smiled suddenly at him. What could be wrong? How can one be unhappy in para-cosma? His brain erected and seized his hand. Come, let's gather fruit for tomorrow. She darted off in a whirl of flashing silver, and Dan followed her around the wing of the edifice. Graceful as a dancer, she leapt from a branch above her head, caught it laughingly, and tossed a great golden globe to him. She loaded his arms with the prizes and sent him back to the bench. And when he returned, she piled it so full of fruit that the luge of colorful spears dropped around him. She laughed again and sent them spinning into the brook with thrust of her rosy toes, while Dan watched her with an aching wistfulness. Then suddenly she was facing him. For a long, tense instant they stood motionless, eyes upon eyes, and then she turned away and walked slowly around the arched portal. He followed her with his burden of fruit. His mind once more in a turmoil of doubt and perplexity. The little sun was losing itself behind the trees of that colossal forest to the west, and a coolness stirred among the long shadows. The brook was purple-hued in the dusk, but its cherry notes mingled still with the flower music. Then the sun was hidden, the shadow fingers darkened the meadow. Of a sudden the flowers were still, and the brook gurgled alone in the world of silence. In silence too, Dan entered the doorway. The chamber within was a spacious one, and it was lured with the large black and white squares. Exquisite benches of carved marble were here and there. Old leucon in a far corner, bent over an intricate glistening mechanism, and as Dan entered he drew a shining length of silver cloth from it. Folded it and placed it carefully aside. There was a curious unearthly fact that Dan noted. Despite windows open to the evening, no night insects circled the globes that glowed at intervals from niches on the walls. Galatea stood in a doorway to his left, leaning half-wearly against the frame. He placed a bowl of fruit on a bench at the entrance and moved to her side. This is yours, she said, indicating the room beyond. He looked in upon a pleasant smaller chamber, a window framed a starry square, and a thin, swift, nearly silent stream of water, gushed from the mouth of a carved human head on the left wall, curving into a six-foot base and sunk in the floor. Another of the graceful benches covered with silver cloth completed the furnishings. A single glowing sphere pendant by a chain from the ceiling illuminated the room. Dan turned to the girl whose eyes were still unwontantly serious. This is ideal, he said, but Galatea, how am I to turn out the light? Turn it out, she said. You must cap it so. A faint smile showed again on her lips as she dropped a metal covering over the shining sphere. They stood tense in the darkness. Dan sensed her nearness achingly. And then the light was on once more. She moved towards a door and there paused, taking his hand. Dear Shadow, she said softly, I hope your dreams are music. She was gone. Dan stood, he resoluted in his chamber. He glanced into the large room where Lucan still bent over his work and the gray reaver raised a hand in solemn salutation but said nothing. He felt no urge for the old man's silent company and turned back into his room to prepare for slumber. Almost instantly it seemed that Dan was upon him and bright elfin pipings were all about him while the odd, ruddy sun sent a broad, slanting pain of light across the room. He rose as fully aware of his surroundings as if he had not slept at all. The pool tempted him and he bathed in stinging water. Thereafter he merged into the central chamber noting curiously that the globe still glowed in dim rivalry to the daylight. He touched one casually. It was cool as metal to his fingers and lifted freely from its standard. For a moment he held the cold flaming thing in his hands then replaced it and wandered to the dawn. Galatea was dancing upon the path eating a strange fruit as rosy as her lips. She was merry again. Once more the happy nymph who had greeted him and she gave him a bright smile as he chose a sweet green ovid for his breakfast. Come on she called to the river. She skipped away toward the unbelievable forest. Dan followed marveling that her light speed was so easy a match for a stronger muscles. Then they were laughing in the pool splashing about until Galatea drew herself to the bank glowing in panting. He followed her as she lay relaxed. Strangely he was neither tired nor breathless with no sense of exertion. A question recurred to him as yet unasked. Galatea said his voice. Whom will you take as a mate? Her eyes went serious. I don't know, she said. At the proper time you will come. That is law. And will you be happy? Of course she seemed troubled. Isn't everyone happy? Not where I live Galatea. Then that must be a strange place. That ghostly world of yours. A rather terrible place. It is often enough Dan agreed. I wish, he paused. What did he wish? Was he not talking to an illusion, a dream and apparition? He looked at the girl, at her glistening black hair, her eyes, her soft white skin and then for a tragic moment he tried to feel the arms that drab hotel tear beneath his hands and failed. He smiled. He reached out his fingers to touch her bare arm and for an instant she looked back at him with startled sober eyes and sprang to her feet.  She set off down the stream and Dan rose reluctantly to follow. What a day that was. They traced a little river from still pool to singing rapids and never about them were strange twitterings and pipings that were the voices of the flowers. Every turn brought a new vista of beauty every moment brought a new sense of delight. They talked over silent when they were thirsty the cool river was at hand when they were hungry fruit offered itself when they were tired there was always a deep pool in a mossy bank and when they were rested a new beauty beckoned. The incredible trees towered in numberless forms of fantasy and the river was still the flower-starred meadow. Galatea twisted him in a bright blossom garland for his head and thereafter he moved always with the sweet singing about him. But little by little the red sun slanted toward the forest and the hours dripped away. It was Dan who pointed it out and reluctantly they turned homeward. As they returned Galatea sang a strange song plaintive and sweet as the melody of the river and flower music began her eyes were sad. What song is that he asked? It is a song sung by another Galatea she answered who is my mother. She laid her hand in his arm I will make it into English for you she sang. The river lies in flower and fern and flower and fern breathes a song it breathes a song of your return of your return in years too long in years too long it murmurs bring it murmurs bring their vain replies their vain replies the flower sing the flower sing the river lies her voice quavered on the final notes they were silent safe the tinkle of the water and the flower bugles Dan said Galatea and paused the girl was again somber eyed tearful he said huskily that's a sad song Galatea why was your mother sad you said every woman is happy in your maracosma she broke a law replied the girl tonelessly it is the inevitable way to sorrow she faced him she fell in love with a phantom Galatea said one of your shadowy race you came to state and then had to go back so when her appointed lover came it was too late do you understand but she yielded finally to the law and is forever unhappy and goes wandering from place to place I shall never break a law she said defiantly Dan took her hand I would not have you unhappy Galatea I want you always happy she shook her head I am happy she said and smiled a tender whistle smile they were silent a long time as they trudged the way homeward the shadows of the forest giants reached out across the river as the sun slipped behind them for a distance they walked hand in hand but as they reached the path that Galatea drew away and sped swiftly before him Dan followed as quickly as he might when he arrived Loucon sat on his bench by the portal and Galatea had paused on the threshold she watched his approach with eyes in which he again fancied the glint of tears I am very tired she said and slipped within Dan moved to follow but the old man raised a staying hand friend from the shadows he said will you hear me a moment he paused acquiesced and dropped to the opposite bench he felt a sense of foreboding nothing pleasant awaited him there is something to be said Loucon continued and I say it without desire to pain you if phantoms feel pain it is this Galatea loves you though I think she has not yet realized it I love her too said Dan the gray weaver stared at him I do not understand substance indeed may love shadow but how can shadow love substance I love her insisted Dan then woe to both of you for this is impossible in paracosma it is a confliction with the laws Galatea is made as appointed perhaps even now approaching laws laws mother Dan whose laws are they not Galatea's nor mine but they are said the gray weaver it's not for you nor for me to criticize them though I yet wonder what power could annul them to permit your presence here I had no voice in your laws the old man peered at him in the dusk has anyone anywhere of voice in the laws he queried and my country would have retorted Dan madness crowd Loucon man made laws of what use are man made laws with only man made penalties or not at all if you shadows make a law that the wind shall blow only from the east does the west wind obey it we do not pass such laws they may be stupid but they are no more unjust than yours ours said the gray weaver are the unalterable laws of the world the laws of nature violation is always unhappiness I have seen it I have known it in another and Galatea's mother though Galatea is stronger than she he paused now he continued I ask only for mercy your stay is short and I ask that you do no more harm than is already done give her no more to regret he rose and moved to the archway when Dan followed a moment later he was already removing a square of silver from his device in the corner Dan turned silent and happy to his own chamber where the jet of water tingled faintly as a distant bell again he rose at the glow of dawn and again Galatea was before him meeting him at the door with her bowl of fruit she deposited her burden giving him a wane little smile of greeting and stood facing him as if waiting Galatea he said where? to the riverbank to talk they'd trudged in silence to the brink of Galatea's pool Dan noted a subtle difference in the world around him outlines were vague the thin flower piping less audible and the very landscape was clearly unstable shifting like smoke when he wasn't looking at it directly and strangely though he had brought the girl here to talk to her he had now nothing to say but suddenly aching silence with his eyes on the loveliness of her face Galatea pointed at the red ascending sun so short a time she said before you go back to your phantom world I shall be sorry very sorry she touched his cheek with her fingers dear shadow suppose said Dan huskily that I won't go what if I won't leave here his voice grew fiercer I'll not go I'm going to stay the loveliness of the girl's face checked him he felt the irony of struggling against the inevitable progress of a dream she spoke had I the making of the laws you should stay but you can't dear one you can't forgotten now were the words of the grey weaver I love you Galatea he said and I you she whispered see dear shadow how I break the same law my mother broke and I'm glad to face a sorrow over him she placed her hand tenderly over his Lucan is very wise and I'm bound to obey him but this is beyond his wisdom because he let himself grow old she paused he let himself grow old she repeated slowly a strange light gleamed in her dark eyes as she turned suddenly to Dan dear one she said tensely that thing that happens to the old that death of yours what follows it what follows death he echoed who knows but her voice was quivering but one can't simply vanish there must be an awakening who knows said Dan again there those who believe we wake to a happier world but he shook his head hopelessly it must be true what must be Galatea cried there must be more for you than the mad world you speak of she leaned very close supposed dear she said that when my point of love arrives I send him away suppose I bear no children but let myself grow old older than Lucan old until death would I join you in your happier world Galatea cried distractively oh my dears what a terrible thought more terrible than you know she whispered still very close to him it is more than violation of a law it is rebellion everything is planned everything was seen except this and if I bear no child her place will be left unfulfilled in the places of her children and of their children and so on until someday the whole great plane of Paracosma fails of whatever is destiny was to be who whispered grew very faint and fearful it is destruction but I love you more than I feared death Dan's arms were about her no Galatea no promise me she murmured I can promise and then break my promise she drew his head down their lips touched and he felt fragrance in a taste like honey in her kiss at least she breathed I can give you a name by which to love you Filometros measure of my love a name mother Dan a fantastic idea shot through his mind a way of proving to himself that all this was reality and not just a page that anyone could read who wore old Ludwig's magic spectacles a Galatea would speak his name perhaps he thought daringly perhaps then he could stay he thrust her away Galatea he cried do you remember my name she nodded silently her unhappy eyes on his then say it say it dear she stared at him dumbly miserably but made no sound say it Galatea he pleaded desperately my name dear just my name her mouth moved she grew pale with effort and Dan could have sworn that his name trembled on her quivering lips though no sound at last she spoke I can't dearest one oh I can't a law forbids it she stood suddenly erect recarving Luke on call she said and darted away Dan followed along the pebble path but her speed was beyond his powers at the portal he found only a weaver standing cold and stern he raised his hand as Dan appeared your time said go thinking of the havoc you have done where is Galatea Gaspan I've sent her away the old man blocked the entrance for a moment Dan would have struck him aside but something withheld him he stared wildly about the meadow there a flash of silver beyond the river at the edge he turned and raced towards it while motionless and cold the gray weaver watched him go Galatea he cried he was over the river now on the forest bank running through column vistas that whirled around him like mist the world had gone cloudy fine flakes dance like snow before his eyes Paracosma was dissolving around him through the chaos he fancied a glimpse of the girl but closer approach left him still voicing his hopeless cry of Galatea after an endless time he paused something familiar about the spot struck him and just as the red sun edged above him he recognized the place the very point at which he had entered Paracosma a sense of utility overwhelmed him as for a moment he gazed at an unbelievable apparition a dark window hung in midair before him through which glowed rows of electric lights Ludwig's window it vanished but the trees rised and the sky darkened and he swayed dizzily in turmoil he realized suddenly that he was no longer standing but sitting in the midst of the crazy glade and his hands clutched something smooth and hard the arms of that miserable hotel chair then at last he saw her close before him Galatea was sorrow-stricken features her tear-filled eyes on his he made a terrific effort to rise stood erect and fell sprawling in a blaze chorus skating lights he struggled to his knees walls Ludwig's room encompassed him he must have slipped from the chair the magic spectacles laid before him one lens splintered and spilling a fluid no longer water clear but white as milk God he muttered he felt shaken, sick, exhausted with a bitter sense of bereavement and his head ached fiercely the room was drab disgusting he wanted to get out of it he must have sat here nearly five hours for the first time he noticed Ludwig's absence he was glad of it and walked out of the door to an automatic elevator there was no response to his ring someone was using the thing he walked three flights to the street and back to his own room in love with the vision worse, in love with the girl who had never lived in a fantastic utopia that was literally nowhere he sat up on his bed with a groan that was half a sob he saw finally the implication of the name Galatea Galatea, Pygmalion statue given life by Venus in the ancient Grecian myth but his Galatea, warm and lovely and vital, must remain forever without the gift of life since he was neither Pygmalion nor God he woke late in the morning staring uncomprehensingly about for the fountain and pool of Pear Cosmo slow comprehension dawned how much how much of last night's experience had been real how much was the product of alcohol or had old Ludwig been right and was there no difference between reality and dream he changed his rumpled attire and wandered despondently to the street he found Ludwig's hotel at last inquiry revealed that the diminutive professor had checked out leaving no forwarding address what of it even Ludwig couldn't give a thought of living Galatea Dan was glad that he had disappeared he hated a little professor professor Hypnotists called themselves professors he dragged through a weary day and then a sleepless night back to Chicago it was mid winter when he saw a suggestively tiny figure head of him in the loot Ludwig he had what used to hail him his cry was automatic Professor Ludwig the elfin figure turned recognized him, smiled they stepped into the shelter of the building I'm sorry about your machine professor I'll be glad to pay for the damage ah, that was nothing a cracked glass but you, have you been ill? you look much the worse it's nothing said Dan your show is marvelous Professor Marvelous I'd have told you so but you were gone when I ended Ludwig shrugged I went to the lobby for a cigar five hours with a wax dummy you know it was marvelous repeated Dan so real smiled the other only because you cooperated then it takes self-hypnosis it was real alright agreed Dan Glumly I don't understand it that strange beautiful country the trees were club mosses enlarged by a lens of Ludwig all was trick photography but stereoscope as I told you three-dimensional the fruits were rubber the houses a summer building on our campus northern university and the voice was mine you didn't speak at all except your name at the first I left a blank for that I played your part you see I went around the photographic apparatus dropped on my head to keep the viewpoints always out of the observer see he grand Riley luckily I'm rather short or you'd have seemed a giant wait a minute said Dan his mind whirling you say you played my part then Galatea is she real too? he's real enough to the professor my niece a senior at northern and likes dramatics she helped me out with the thing why I want to meet her? Dan answered vaguely happily and Nick had vanished a pain was ceased Para Cosmo was attainable at last end of Pidmalian Spectacles by Stanley Grumman Weinbaum read by Crystal Layton The Repairman this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Repairman by Harry Harrison being an interstellar troubleshooter wouldn't be so bad if I could shoot the trouble the old man had that look of intensely on his face that meant someone was in for a very rough time since we were alone it took no great feat of intelligence to figure it would be me I talked first bold attack being the best offence and so forth I quit he was also telling me what dirty job you have cooked up because I have already quit and you do not want to reveal company secrets to me the grin was even wider now and he actually chortled as he thumbed a button on his console a thick legal document slid out of the delivery slot onto his desk this is your contract he said it tells you how and when you will work it's a steel and vanadium bound contract that you couldn't crack with a molecular disruptor I leaned out quickly grabbed it into the air with a single motion before it could fall I had my solar out and with a wide angle shot burned the contract to ashes the old man pressed the button again and another contract slid out on his desk if possible the smile was still wider now I should have said a duplicate of your contract like this one here he made a quick note on his secretary plate I have deducted 13 credits from your salary for the cost of the duplicate as well as that 100 credit fine for firing a solar inside a building I slumped, defeated, waiting for the blow to land the old man fondled my contract according to this document you can't quit ever therefore I have a little job I know you'll enjoy repair job this entire beacon has shut down it's a mark 3 beacon what kind of beacon I asked him I have repaired hyperspace beacons from one arm of the galaxy to the other and I was sure I had worked on every type or model made but I'd never heard of this thing mark 3 the old man reported practically chortling I've never heard of it either until records dug up the specs they found them buried in the back of their oldest warehouse this was the earliest type of beacon ever built by earth no less considering its location on one of the proximus centauri planets it might very well be the first beacon I looked at the blueprints he handed me and felt my eyes glaze with horror it's a monstrosity it looks more like a distillery than a beacon must be at least a few hundred meters high I'm a repairman not an archeologist this pile of junk is over 2,000 years old forget about it and build a new one the old man leaned over his desk breathing into my face it would take a year to install a new beacon besides being too expensive and this relic is on one of the main routes we have ships making 15 light-year detours now he leaned back, wiped his hands on his handkerchief and gave me lecture 44 on company duty and my troubles this department is officially called maintenance and repair when it really should be called troubleshooting hyperspace beacons are made to last forever or damn close to it when one of them breaks down it is never an accident and repairing the thing is never a matter of just plugging in a new part he was telling me the guy who did the job while he sat back on his fat paycheck in an air conditioned office he rambled on how I wish that were all it took I would have a fleet of parts ships and junior mechanics to install them but it's not like that at all I have a fleet of expensive ships that are equipped to do almost anything manned by a bunch of irresponsibles like you I nodded moodily at his pointing finger how I wish I could fire you all combinations, space jockeys, mechanics engineers, soldiers, con men and anything else it takes to do the repairs I have to brow beat bribe blackmail and build those use thugs into doing a simple job if you think you're fed up just think how I feel but the ships must go through the beacons must operate I recognized his deathless line as the curtain speech and crawled to my feet he threw the mark 3 file at me and went back to scratching in his papers just as I reached the door he looked up and impaled me on his finger again and don't get any fancy ideas about jumping your contract we can attach that bank account of yours on algal 2 long before you can draw the money out I smiled a little weakly I'm afraid as if I had never meant to keep that account a secret his spies were getting more efficient every day walking down the hall I tried to figure a way to transfer the money without his catching on I knew at the same time he was figuring a way to out figure me it was all very depressing so I stopped for a drink then went on to the spaceport by the time the ship was serviced I had a course charted the nearest beacon to the broken down this entire beacon was on one of the planets of beta-surcinus and I headed there first a short trip of only about 9 days in hyperspace to understand the importance of the beacons you have to understand hyperspace not that many people do but it is easy enough to understand that in this non-space the regular rules don't apply speed and measurements are a matter of relationship not constant facts like the fixed universe the first ships into hyperspace had no place to go and no way to even tell if they had moved the beacon solved that problem and opened the entire universe they are built on planets and generate tremendous amounts of power this power is turned into radiation that is punched through into hyperspace every beacon has a code signal as part of its radiation and represents a measurable point in hyperspace triangulation and quadrature of the beacons works for navigation only it follows its own rules the rules are complex and variable but there are still rules that a navigator can follow for a hyperspace jump you need at least 4 beacons for an accurate fix for long jumps navigators use as many as 7 or 8 so every beacon is important and everyone has to keep operating that is where I and the other troubleshooters came in we travel in well stocked ships that carry a little bit of everything that is all it takes to operate the overly efficient repair machinery due to the very nature of our job we spend most of our time just rocketing through normal space after all, when a beacon breaks down how do you find it? not through hyperspace all you can do is approach as close as you can by using other beacons then finish the trip in normal space this can take months and often does this job didn't turn out to be quite that bad I zeroed on the beta and ran a complicated 8 point problem through the navigator using every beacon I could get an accurate fix on the computer gave me a course with an estimated point of arrival as well as a built in safety factor I could never eliminate from the machine I would much rather take a chance of breaking through near some start than spend time just barreling through normal space but apparently tech knows this too they had a safety factor built into the computer so you couldn't end up inside a star no matter how hard you tried I'm sure there was no humanness in this decision, they just didn't want to lose the ship it was a 20 hour jump, ship's time and I came through in the middle of nowhere the robot analyzed a chuckle to itself and scanned all the stars comparing them to the spectra of Proxima Centauri it finally rang a bell and blinked to light I peeped through the eyepiece a fast reading with the photocell gave me the apparent magnitude the absolute magnitude showed its distance not as bad as I had thought a six week run, give or take a few days after feeding a course tape into the robot pilot I strapped into the acceleration tank and went to sleep the time went fast I rebuilt my camera for about the 20th time and just about finished a correspondence course in nucleonics most repairmen take these courses besides they're always coming in handy the company grades your pay by the number of specialties that you can handle all this with some oil painting and free fall workouts in the gym past the time I was asleep when the alarm went off that announced planetary distance Planet 2 where the beacon was situated according to the old charts was a mushy looking wet kind of globe I tried to make sense out of the ancient directions and finally located the right area staying outside the atmosphere I sent a flying eye down to look things over in this business you learn early when the eye would be good enough for the preliminary survey the old boys had enough brains to choose a traceable site for the beacon equidistant on a line between two of the most prominent mountain peaks I located the peaks easy enough and started the eye out from the first peak and kept it on course directly toward the second there was a nose and a tail radar in the eye and I fed their signals into the scope as an amplitude curve when the two peaks coincided I spun the eye controls and dived the thing down I cut out the radar and cut in the noise orthocon and sat back to watch the beacon appear on the screen the image blinked focused and a great damn pyramid swam interview I cursed and wheeled the eye in circles scanning the surrounding country it was flat marshy bottom land without a bump the only thing in a 10 mile circle was this pyramid and that definitely wasn't my beacon or was it I dived the eye lower the pyramid was a crude looking thing of undressed stone without carvings or decorations there was a shimmer of light from the top and I took a close look at it on the peak of the pyramid was a hollow basin filled with water when I saw that something clicked in my mind locking the eye in a circular course I dug through the mark 3 plans and there it was the beacon had a precipitating field and a basin on top of it for water this was used to cool the reactor that powered the monstrosity if the water was still there the beacon was still there inside the pyramid the natives who of course weren't even mentioned by the idiots who constructed the thing had built a nice heavy thick stone pyramid around the beacon I took another look at the screen and realized that I had locked the eye into a circular orbit about 20 feet above the pyramid the summit of the local stone pile apparently the local life form they had what looked like throwing sticks and arbalests and were trying to shoot down the eye a cloud of arrows and rocks flying in every direction I pulled the eye straight up and away and threw in the control circuit that would return it automatically to the ship then I went to the gallery for a long strong drink my beacon was not only locked inside a mountain of handmade stone but I had managed to irritate the things who had built the pyramid it was a great beginning for a job and one clearly designed to drive a stronger man than me to the bottle normally a repairman stays away from the natives cultures they are poison anthropologists may not mind being dissected for their science but a repairman wants to make no sacrifices of any kind for his job for this reason most beacons are built on uninhabited planets if a beacon has to go on to a planet with a culture it is usually built why this beacon had been built within reach of the local claws I had yet to find out but that would come in time the first thing to do was make contact to make contact you have to know the local language and for that I had long before worked out a system that was fool proof I had a pry eye of my own construction it looked like a piece of rock about a foot long once on the ground it would never be noticed but it was a little disconcerting to see it float by I located a lizard town about a thousand kilometers from the pyramid and dropped the eye it swished down and landed at night in the bank of the local mud wallow this was a favorite spot that drew a good crowd during the day in the morning when the first wallowers arrived I flipped on the recorder after about five of the local days I had a sea of native conversation in the memory bank of the machinery translator and I tagged a few expressions this is fairly easy to do I have a machine memory to work with one of the lizards gargled at another one and the second one turned around I tagged this expression with the phrase hey George and waited my chance to use it later the same day I caught one of them alone and shouted hey George at them it gurgled out through the speaker in the local tongue and he turned around when you get enough reference phrases like this in the memory bank the empty brain takes over and starts filling in the missing pieces as he could give a running translation of any conversation he had heard I figured it was time to make contact I found him easily enough he was the Centaurian version of a goat boy he herded a particularly lillsome form of local life in the swamps outside the town I had one of the working eyes dig a cave in an outcropping of rock and wait for him when he passed next day I whispered into the mic welcome, oh goat boy grandson this is your grandfather's spirit making from paradise this fitted in with what I could make out of the local religion goat boy stopped as if he'd been shot before he could move I pushed a switch in a handful of the local currency wampum type shells rolled out of the cave and landed at his feet here's some money from paradise because you have been a good boy not really from paradise I had lifted it from the treasury the night before come back tomorrow and we will talk some more I called back after the fleeing figure I was pleased to notice that he took the cash before taking off after that grandpa and paradise had many heart to heart talks with grandson who found the heavenly loot more than he could resist grandpa had been out of touch with things since his death and goat boy happily filled him in I learned all I needed to know of the history past and recent and it wasn't nice in addition to the pyramid being around the beacon there was a nice little religious war in the middle of the pyramid it all began with the land bridge apparently the local lizards had been living in the swamps when the beacon was built but the builders didn't think much of them they were a low type and confined to a distant continent the idea that the race would develop and might reach this continent never occurred to the beacon mechanics which is of course what happened a little geological turnover a swampy land bridge formed in the right spot and the lizards began to wander up around religion a shiny metal temple at a witch poured a constant stream of magic water the reactor cooling water pumped down from the atmosphere condenser on the roof the radioactivity in the water didn't hurt the natives it caused mutations that bred true a city was built around the temple and through the centuries the pyramid was built up around the beacon a special branch of the priesthood served the temple all went well until one of the priests died the holy waters there had been revolt, strife, murder and destruction since then but still the holy waters would not flow now our mobs fought around the temple each day and a new band of priests guarded the sacred fount and I had to walk into the middle of that mess and repair the thing it would have been easy enough if we were allowed a little mayhem I could have had a lizard fry fix the beacon and taken off only native life forms were quite well protected I would just buy cells on my ship all of which I hadn't found that would cheerfully rat on me when I got back diplomacy was called for I sighed and dragged out the plaster flesh equipment working from 3D snaps of grandson I modeled a passable reptile head over my own features it was a little short in a jaw me not having one of their toothy mandibles but that was all right I didn't have to look exactly like them just something close to soothe the native mind it's logical if I were an ignorant aborigine of earth and I ran into a spiken who looks like a 2 foot gob of dried shellac I would immediately leave the scene however if the spiken were wearing a suit of plaster flesh that looked remotely humanoid I would at least stay and let him talk this was what I was aiming to do with the centaurians when the head was done I peeled it off and attached it to an attractive suit of green plastic complete with tail I was really glad that they had tails the lizards didn't wear clothes and I wanted to take a lot of electronic equipment I built the tail over a metal frame that anchored around my waist then I filled the frame with all the equipment I would need and began to wire the suit when it was done I tried it out in front of the full length mirror it was horrible but effective the tail dragged me down in the rear and gave me a duck waddle that only helped the resemblance that night I took the ship down to the nearest the pyramid and out of the way dry spot where the amphibious natives would never go a little before dawn the eye hooked onto my shoulders and we sailed straight up we hovered above the temple at about 2,000 meters until it was light then dropped straight down it must have been a grand sight the eye was camouflaged to look like a flying lizard sort of a cardboard pterodactyl and the slow flapping wings obviously had nothing to do with our flight but it was impressive enough for the natives the first one that spotted me screamed and dropped over on his back the others came running they milled and mobbed and piled on top of one another and by that time I had landed in the plaza fronting the temple the priesthood arrived I folded my arms in a regal stance greetings, O noble servers of the great god I said of course I didn't say it out loud just whispered loud enough for the throat mic to catch this was radioed back to the empty the translation shot back to a speaker in my jaws the natives chomped and rattled and the translation ruled out almost instantly I had the volume turned up and the whole square echoed some of the more credulous natives prostrated themselves and others fled screaming one of the doubtful type raised a spear but no one else tried that after the pterodactyl eye picked him up and dropped him in the swamp the priests were a hard-headed lot and weren't buying any lizards in a poke they just stood and muttered to take the offensive again be gone O faithful seed I said to the eye and pressed the control in my palm at the same time it took off straight up a bit faster than I wanted little pieces of wind-torn plastic rained down while the crowd was ogling this ascent I walked through the temple doors I would talk with you O noble priests I said before they could think up a good answer I was inside the temple was a small one built against the base of the pyramid I hoped it wasn't breaking too many taboos by going in I wasn't stopped so it looked all right the temple was a single room with a murky-looking pool at one end sloshing the pool was an ancient reptile who clearly was one of the leaders I waddled toward him and he gave me a cold and fishy eye then growled something the empty whispered into my ear just what in the name of the 13th sin are you and what are you doing here I drew up my scaly figure double gesture and pointed toward the ceiling I come from your ancestors to help you I am here to restore the holy waters this raised a buzz of conversation behind me but got no rise out of the chief he sank slowly into the water until only his eyes was showing I could almost hear the wheels turning behind that moss covered forehead then he lunged up and pointed a dripping finger at me you are a liar you are no ancestor of ours we will stop a thundered we got so far in that he couldn't back out I said your ancestors set me as an emissary I am not one of your ancestors do not try to harm me or the wrath of those who have passed on will turn against you when I said this I turned to jab a claw at the other priests using the motion to cover my flicking a coin grenade toward them it blew a nice hole in the floor with a great show of noise and smoke the first lizard knew I was talking since then and immediately called a meeting of the shamans it of course took place in the public bathtub and I had to join them there we jawed and gurgled for about an hour and settled all the major points I found out that they were new priests previous ones had all been boiled for letting the holy water cease they found out I was there only to help them restore the flow of the waters they bought this and we all heaped out of the tub and trickled muddy paths across the floor there was a bolted and guarded door that led into the pyramid proper while it was being opened the first lizard turned to me undoubtedly you know of the rule he said because the old priests did pry and peer it was ruled henceforth that only the blind could enter the holy of holies I'd swear he was smiling if thirty teeth peeking out of what looked like a crack in an old suitcase can be called smiling he was also signalling to him an under priest who carried a brassiere of charcoal complete with red hot irons all I could do was stand and watch as they stirred up the coals pulled out the ruddiest iron and turned toward me he was just drawing a bead on my right eyeball when my brain got back in gear of course I said blinding is only right but in my case you'll have to blind me before I leave the holy of holies not now I need my eyes to see and mend the fount of holy waters once the waters flow again I will laugh as I hurl myself on the burning iron he took a good thirty seconds to think it over the local torturer sniffled a bit and threw a little more charcoal on the fire the gate crashed open and I stalked through then it banged too behind me and I was alone in the dark but not for long there was a shuffling nearby and I took a chance and turned on my flash three priests were groping toward me their eye sockets red pits a burned flesh they knew what I wanted and led the way without a word a crumbling and cracked stone stairway brought us up to a solid metal doorway labeled in archaic script mark 3 beacon authorized personnel only the trusting builders counted on the sign to do the whole job for there wasn't a trace of a lock on the door one lizard merely turned the handle and we were inside the beacon I unzipped the front of my camouflage suit and pulled out the blueprints with the faithful priests stumbling after me I located the control room and turned on the lights there was a residue of charge just enough to give a dim light the meters and indicators looked to be in good shape if anything, unexpectedly bright from constant polishing I checked the readings carefully and found just what I had suspected one of the eager lizards had managed to open a circuit box and had polished the switches inside while doing this he had thrown one of the switches and that had caused the trouble rather that it started the trouble it wasn't going to be ended by just reversing the water valve switch this valve was supposed to be used only for repairs after the pile was damped when the water was cut off with the pile in operation it had started to overheat and the automatic safeties had dumped the charge down the pit I could start the water again easy enough but there was no fuel left in the reactor I wasn't going to play with the fuel problem at all it would be far easier to install a new power plant I had one in the ship that was about a tenth the size of the ancient bucket of bolts was at least four times the power before I sent for it I checked over the rest of the beacon in 2000 years there should be some sign of wear the old boys had built well I'll give them credit for that 90% of the machinery had no moving parts and had suffered no wear whatever other parts they had beefed up figuring they would wear but slowly the water feed pipe from the roof for example the pipe walls were at least three meters thick and the pipe opening itself no bigger than my head there were some things I could do though and I made a list of parts the parts, the new power plant and a few other odds and ends were suited into a neat pile on the ship I checked all the parts by screen before they were loaded into a metal crate in the darkest hour before the dawn the heavy duty eye dropped the crate outside the temple and darted away without being seen I watched the priests through the pry eye while they tried to open it when they had given up I boomed orders I checked them through a speaker in the crate they spent most of the day sweating the heavy box up through the narrow temple stairs and I enjoyed a good sleep it was resting inside the beacon door when I woke up the repairs didn't take long though there was plenty of groaning from the blind lizards when they heard me ripping the wall open to get at the power leads I even hooked a gadget to the water pipe so their holy waters would have the usual refreshing radioactivity when they started flowing again after all finished I did the job they were waiting for I threw the switch that started the water flowing again there were a few minutes while the water began to gurgle down through the dry pipe then a roar came from outside the pyramid that must have shaken its stone walls shaking my hands once over my head I went down for the eye burning ceremony the blind lizards were waiting for me by the door and looked even happier than usual when I tried the door I found out why it was bolted and barred from the other side it has been decided, a lizard said that you shall remain here forever and tend the holy waters we will stay with you and serve your every need a delightful prospect eternity spent in a locked beacon with three blind lizards in spite of their hospitality I couldn't accept what you dare interfere with the messenger of your ancestors I the speaker on full volume and the vibration almost shook my head off the lizards cringed and ran it around the door jam there was a great crunching and banging from the junk pile against it and then the door swung free I threw it open before they could protest I had pushed the priests out through it the rest of their clans showed up at the front of the stairs I made a great ruckus while I finished welding the door shut running through the crowd I faced up to the first lizard in his tub he sank slowly beneath the surface what lack of courtesy I shouted he made little bubbles in the water the ancestors are annoyed and have decided to forbid entrance to the inner temple forever though out of kindness they will let the waters flow now I must return on with the ceremony the torture master was too frightened to move so I grabbed out his hot iron a touch on the side of my face dropped the steel plate over my eyes under the plastic skin then I jammed the iron hard into my phony eye sockets and the plastic gave off an authentic odor I cry went up from the crowd as I dropped the iron and staggered in blind circles I must admit it went off pretty well before they could get any more bright ideas I threw the switch and my plastic pterodactyl sailed in through the door I couldn't see it of course but I knew it had arrived when the grapples and the claws latched onto the steel plates in my shoulders I had got turned around after the eye burning and my flying beast hooked onto me backward I had meant to sail up bravely blind eyes facing into the sunset instead I faced the crowd as I sort away so I made the most of a bad situation and threw them a snappy military salute then it was out in the fresh air and away when I lifted the plate and poked holes in the seared plastic I could see the pyramid growing smaller behind me water gushing out of the base in a happy crowd of reptiles sporting in its radioactive rush I counted off my talons to see if I had forgotten anything 1. the beacon was repaired 2. the door was sealed so there should be no more sabotage accidental or deliberate 3. the priest should be satisfied the water was running again my eyes had been duly burned out and they were back in business which added up to 4. the fact that they would probably let another repairman in under the same conditions if the beacon conked out again at least I had done nothing like butchering a few of them that would make them antagonistic toward future ancestral messengers I stripped off my tattered lizard suit back in the repair ship very glad that it would be some other repairman who would get the job End of The Repairman by Harry Harrison Because there were few adults in the crowd and Colonel Biff Horton stood over six feet tall he could see every detail of the demonstration the children and most of the parents gaped in wide-eyed wonder Biff Horton was too sophisticated to be awed he stayed on because he wanted to find out what the trick was that made the gadget work it's all explained right here in your instruction book the demonstrator said holding up a garishly printed booklet opened to a four-color diagram you all know how magnets pick up things and I bet you even know that the earth itself is one great big magnet that's why compasses always point north well the atomic wonder space-wave tapper hangs on to those space-waves invisibly all about us and even going right through us are the magnetic waves of the earth the atomic wonder rides these waves just the way a ship rides the waves in the ocean now watch every eye was on him as he put the gaudy model rocket-ship on top of the table and stepped back it was made of stamped metal and seemed as incapable of flying as a can of ham which it very much resembled neither wings, propellers nor jets broke through the painted surface it rested on three rubber wheels and coming out through the bottom was a double strand of thin insulated wire this white wire ran across the top of the black table and terminated in a control box in the demonstrator's hand an indicator light a switch and a knob appeared to be the only controls I turn on the power switch sending a surge of current to the wave receptors he said the switch clicked and the light blinked on and off with the steady pulse then the man began to slowly turn the knob a careful touch on the wave generator is necessary as we are dealing with the powers of the whole world here a concerted ah swept through the crowd as the space-wave tapper shivered a bit then rose slowly into the air the demonstrator stepped back and the toy rose higher and higher bobbing gently on the invisible waves of magnetic force that supported it ever so slowly the power was reduced and it settled back to the table only $17.95 the young man said putting a large price sign on the table for the complete set of the atomic wonder the space tapper control box battery and instruction book at the appearance of the price card the crowd broke up noisily and the children rushed away towards the operating model trains the demonstrator's words were lost in their noisy passage and after a moment he sank into a gloomy silence he put the control box down yawned and sat on the edge of the table Colonel Horton was the only one left after the crowd had moved on could you tell me how this thing works the Colonel asked coming forward the demonstrator brightened up and picked up one of the toys well, if you will look here, sir he opened the hinged top you will see the space wave coils at each end of the ship with a pencil he pointed out the odd shaped plastic forms about an inch in diameter that had been wound apparently at random with a few turns of copper wire except for these coils the interior of the model was empty the coils were wired together and other wires ran out through the hole in the bottom of the control box Biff Horton turned a very quizzical eye on the gadget and upon the demonstrator who completely ignored this sign of disbelief inside the control box is the battery the young man said snapping it open and pointing to an ordinary flashlight battery the current goes through the power switch and power light to the wave generator what you mean to say Biff broke in is that the juice from this 15 cent battery goes through this cheap rheostat to those meaningless coils in the model and absolutely nothing happens now tell me what really flies the thing if I'm going to drop 18 bucks for six bits worth of tin I want to know what I'm getting the demonstrator flushed I'm sorry sir he stammered I wasn't trying to hide anything like any magic trick this one can't really be demonstrated until it's been purchased he leaned forward intentionally I'll tell you what I'll do though this thing is way overpriced and hasn't been moving at all the manager said I could let them go at three dollars if I could find any takers if you want to buy it for that price sold my boy the colonel said slamming three bills down on the table I'll give that much for it no matter how it works the boys in the shop will get a kick out of it he tapped the winged rocket on his chest now really what holds it up the demonstrator looked around carefully then pointed strings he said or rather a black thread it runs from the top of the model through a tiny loop in the ceiling and back down to my hand tied to this ring on my finger when I back up the model rises it's as simple as that all good illusions are simple the colonel grunted tracing the black thread with his eye there's plenty of flimflam to distract the viewer if you don't have a black table a black cloth will do the young man said and the arch of a doorway is a good sight just see that the room in back is dark wrap it up my boy I wasn't born yesterday I'm an old hand at this kind of thing Biff Horton sprang it at the next Thursday night poker party the gang were all missile men and they cheered and jeered as he hammed up the introduction he copied the diagram Biff I could use some of those magnetic waves in the new bird those flashlight batteries are cheaper than locks this is the thing of the future only Teddy Kane accord wise as the flight began he was an amateur magician and spotted the gimmick at once he kept silent with professional courtesy and smiled ironically as the rest of the bunch grew silent one by one the colonel was a good showman and he had set the scene well almost had them believing in the space-wave tapper before he was through when the model had landed and he had switched it off he couldn't stop them from crowding around the table a thread one of the engineers shouted almost with relief and they all laughed along with him too bad the head project physicist said I was hoping that a little space-wave tapping could help us out let me try a flight with it Teddy Kane at first Biff announced he spotted it while you were all watching the flashing lights only he didn't say anything Kane slipped the ring with the black thread over his finger and started to step back you have to turn the switch on first Biff said I know Kane smiled but that's part of illusion, the spiel and the misdirection I'm going to try this cold first so I can get it moving up and down smoothly then go through it with the whole works he moved his hand back smoothly in a professional manner that drew no attention to it the model lifted from the table then crashed back down the thread broke Kane said you jerked it instead of pulling smoothly Biff said and knotted the broken thread here, let me show you how to do it the thread broke again when Biff tried it which got a good laugh that made his collar a little warm someone mentioned the poker game this was the only time that poker was mentioned or even remembered that night because very soon after this they found that the thread would lift the model only when the switch was on and two and a half volts flowing through the joke coils with the current turned off the model was too heavy to lift the thread broke every time I still think it's a screwy idea the young man said one week getting fallen arches demonstrating those toy ships for every brat within a thousand miles then selling the things for three bucks when they must have cost at least a hundred dollars a piece to make but you did sell a ten of them to people who would be interested the older man asked I think so I caught a few Air Force officers and a Colonel in Missiles one day then there was one official I remembered from the Bureau of Standards luckily he didn't recognize me then those two professors you spotted from the University then the problem is out of our hands and into theirs all we have to do now is sit back and wait for results what results these people weren't interested when we were hammering on their doors with the proof we've patented the coils and can prove to anyone that there is a reduction in weight around them when they are operating but a small reduction and we don't know what is causing it no one can be interested in a thing like that a fractional weight decrease in a clumsy model certainly not enough to lift the weight of the generator no one wrapped up in massive fuel consumption tons of lift and such is going to have time to worry about a crackpot who thinks he has found a minor slip in Newton's Laws you think they will now the young man asked cracking his knuckles impatiently I know they will the tensile strength of that threat is not enough the tensile strength of that threat is correctly adjusted to the weight of the model the threat will break if you try to lift the model with it yet you can lift the model after a small increment of its weight has been removed by the coils this is going to bug these men nobody is going to ask them to solve the problem or concern themselves with it but it will nag at them because they know this effect can't possibly exist they'll see it once the theory is nonsense or perhaps true we don't know but they will all be thinking about it and worrying about it someone is going to experiment in his basement just as a hobby of course to find the cause of the error and he or someone else is going to find out what makes those coils work or maybe a way to improve them and we have the patents correct they will be doing the research that will take them out of the massive lift propulsion business and into the field of pure spaceflight and in doing so they will be making us rich whenever the time comes to manufacture the young man said cynically will all be rich son the older man said patting him on the shoulder believe me you're not going to recognise this old world ten years from now end of toy shop