The Machine That Saved The World Read online

projected--likethis, and then unscrambled. I think it's the one where the socialsystem's described--so we can have practice at trying to understand.Remember?"

  * * * * *

  Lecky said, as if the matter had been thrashed out often before:

  "I do not believe what it says, Howell! You know that I do not believeit! I will not accept the theory that this broadcast comes from thefuture!"

  The broadcast stopped. It stopped dead. Betsy's screen went blank. Herwildly fluctuating standby light slowed gradually to a nearly normalrate of flicker.

  "That's not a theory," said Howell dourly. "It's a statement in thebroadcast. We saw the first transmission of this from the tape at thePentagon. Then we saw it with the high-pitched parts slowed down and thedeep-bass stuff speeded up. Then it was a human voice giving data on thescanning pattern and then rather drearily repeating that history saidthat intertemporal communication began with broadcasts sent back from2180 to 1972. It said the establishment of two-way communication wasvery difficult and read from a script about social history, to give uspractice in unscrambling it. It's not a theory to say the stufforiginates in the future. It's a statement."

  "Then it is a lie," said Lecky, very earnestly. "Truly, Howell, it is alie!"

  "Then where does the broadcast come from?" demanded Howell. "Some sayit's a Compub trick. But if they were true they'd hide it for use toproduce chaos in a sneak attack. The only other theory--"

  * * * * *

  Graves, the man with the short moustache, said jerkily:

  "No, Howell! It is not an extra-terrestrial creature pretending to be aman of our own human future. One could not sleep well with such an ideain his head. If some non-human monster could do this--"

  "I do not sleep at all," said Lecky simply. "Because it says thattwo-way communication is to come. I can listen to these broadcaststranquilly, but I cannot bear the thought of answering them. That seemsto me madness!"

  Sergeant Bellews said approvingly:

  "You got something there! Yes, sir! Did you notice how Betsy's standbylight was wabbling while she was bringin' in that broadcast? If shecould sweat, she'd've been sweating!"

  Lecky turned his head to stare at the sergeant.

  "Machines," said Bellews profoundly, "act according to the golden rule.They do unto you as they would have you do unto them. You treat amachine right and it treats you right. You treat it wrong and it bustsitself--still tryin' to treat you right. See?"

  Lecky blinked.

  "I do not quite see how it applies," he said mildly.

  "Betsy's an old, experienced machine," said the sergeant. "A signal thatmakes her sweat like that has got something wrong about it. Any ordinarymachine 'ud break down handlin' it."

  Graves said jerkily:

  "The other machines that received these broadcasts did break down,Sergeant. All of them."

  "Sure!" said the sergeant with dignity. "O' course, who's broadcastin'may have been tinkerin' with their signal since they seen it wasn'tgettin' through. Betsy can take it now, when younger machines with lessexperience can't. Maybe a micro-microwatt of signal. Then it makes hersweat. If she was broadcastin', with a hell of a lot more'n amicro-microwatt--it'd be bad! I bet you that every machine we make tobroadcast breaks down! I bet--"

  Howell said curtly:

  "Reasonable enough! A signal to pass through time as well as space wouldbe different from a standard wave-type! Of course that must be theanswer."

  Sergeant Bellews said truculently:

  "I got a hunch that whoever's broadcastin' is busting transmitters rightan' left. I never knew anything about this before, except that Betsy waspickin' up stuff that came from nowhere. But I bet if you look over therecord-tapes you will find they got breaks where one transmitterswitched off or broke down and another took over!"

  Lecky's eyes were shining. He regarded Sergeant Bellews with a sort oftender respect.

  "Sergeant Bellews," he said softly, "I like you very much. You have toldus undoubtedly true things."

  "Think nothin' of it," said the sergeant, gratified. "I run the RehabShop here, and I could show you things--"

  "We wish you to," said Lecky. "The reaction of machines to thesebroadcasts is the one viewpoint we would never have imagined. But it isplainly important. Will you help us, Sergeant? I do not like to befrightened--and I am!"

  "Sure, I'll help," said Sergeant Bellews largely. "First thing is towhip some stuff together so we can find out what's what. You take a fewMahon units, and install 'em and train 'em right, and they will doalmost anything you've a mind for. But you got to treat 'em right.Machines work by the golden rule. Always! Come along!"

  * * * * *

  Sergeant Bellews went to the Rehab Shop, followed only by Lecky. Allabout, the sun shone down upon buildings with a remarkably temporarylook about them, and on lawns with a remarkably lush look about them,and signboards with very black lettering on gray paint backgrounds.There was a very small airfield inside the barbed-wire fence about thepost, and elaborate machine-shops, and rows and rows of barracks and acanteen and a USO theatre, and a post post-office. Everything seemedquite matter-of-fact.

  Except for the machines.

  They were the real reason for the existence of the post. The barracksand married-row dwellings had washing-machines which looked very muchlike other washing-machines, except that they had standby lights whichflickered meditatively when they weren't being used.

  * * * * *

  The television receivers looked like other TV sets, except for minuteand wavering standby lights which were never quite as bright or dim onemoment as the next. The jeeps--used strictly within the barbed-wirefence around the post--had similar yellow glowings on theirinstrument-boards, and they were very remarkable jeeps. They never ranoff the graveled roads onto the grass, and they never collided with eachother, and it was said that the nine-year-old son of a lieutenant-colonelhad tried to drive one and it would not stir. Its motor cut off when heforced it into gear. When he tried to re-start it, the starter did notturn. But when an adult stepped into it, it operated perfectly--only itbraked and stopped itself when a small child toddled into its path.

  There were some people who said that this story was not true, but otherpeople insisted that it was. Anyhow the washing-machines were perfect.They never tangled clothes put into them. It was reported that Mrs.So-and-so's washing-machine had found a load of clothes tangled, andreversed itself and worked backward until they were straightened out.

  Television sets turned to the proper channels--different ones atdifferent times of day--with incredible facility. The smallest childcould wrench at a tuning-knob and the desired station came on. All theoperating devices of Research Installation 83 worked as if they likedto--which might have been alarming except that they never did anythingof themselves. They initiated nothing. But each one acted like an old,favorite possession. They fitted their masters. They seemed to tunethemselves to the habits of their owners. They were infinitely easy towork right, and practically impossible to work wrong.

  Such machines, of course, had not been designed to cope with enigmaticbroadcasts or for military purposes. But the jet-planes on the smallairfield were very remarkable indeed, and the other and lesser deviceshad been made for better understanding of the Mahon units which mademachines into practically a new order of creation.

  * * * * *

  Sergeant Bellews ushered Lecky into the Rehab Shop. There was thepleasant, disorderly array of devices with their wavering standbylights. They gave an effect of being alive, but somehow it was notdisturbing. They seemed not so much intent as meditative, and not somuch watchful as interested. When the sergeant and his guest moved pastthem, the unrhythmic waverings of the small yellow lights seemed tochange hopefully, as if the machines anticipated being put to use.Which, of course, was absurd. Mahon machines do not anticipate anything.They probably do not remembe
r anything, though patterns of operation arecertainly retained in very great variety. The fact is that a Mahon unitis simply a device to let a machine stand idle without losing the natureof an operating machine.

  The basic principle goes back to antiquity. Ships, in ancient days, hadmanners and customs individual to each vessel. Some were sweet craft,easily handled and staunch and responsive. Others were stubborn andbegrudging of all helpfulness. Sometimes they were even man-killers.These facts had no rational explanation, but they were facts. Insimilarly olden times, particular weapons acquired personalities to thepoint of having personal names--Excalibur, for example.

  Every fighting man knew of weapons which