The Machine That Saved The World Read online

likethe broadcast--I think," he announced grimly. "I saw the diagrams of thetransmitters they want us to make. I'm guessing the broadcast-wave theyuse is close to it but not exact. Close, because it's bad for machines.Not exact, because they're alive while they use it. I hope I don't hitanything on the nose. Okay?"

  Lecky said gently:

  "I have never been more frightened. Go ahead!"

  Sergeant Bellews depressed a stud. The communicator's screen lighted upinstantly. It was receiving the generator's minute output and acceptedit as a broadcast. But the signal was unmodulated, so there was no imagenor any sound.

  * * * * *

  The communicator's standby light flickered steadily.

  Sergeant Bellews adjusted a knob on the generator. The communicator'sstandby flicker changed in amplitude. Bellews turned the knob back. Headjusted another control. The standby light wavered crazily.

  Graves said nervously:

  "I think I see. You are trying to make this communicator react as Betsydid. When it does, you will consider that your generator is creating awave like the broadcasts from nowhere."

  "Yeah," said Bellews. "It ain't scientific, but it's the best I can do."

  He worked the generator-controls with infinite care. Once thecommunicator's standby light approached sine-wave modulation. He hastilyshifted away from the settings which caused it. He muttered:

  "Close!"

  Then, suddenly, the communicator's lamp began to waver in anextraordinary, hysterical fashion. Sergeant Bellews turned down thevolume swiftly. He wiped sweat off his forehead.

  "I--I think I got the trick," he said heavily. "It's a hell of awave-type! Are you guys game to feed it into this communicator's outputamplifier?"

  "I have six sets of cold chills running up and down my spine," saidLecky. "I think you should proceed."

  Howell said angrily:

  "It's got to be tried, hasn't it?"

  "It's got to be tried," acknowledged Sergeant Bellews.

  He shifted the generator's cable from the communicator's input to thefeed-in for preamplified signal. The communicator's screen went dark.It no longer received a simulated broadcast signal. It was nowsignalling--calling. But the instant the new signal started out, thestandby light flickered horribly. Sergeant Bellews grimly plugged inother machines--to the three scientists they looked like duplicates ofGus and Al--to closed-circuit relationship with Betsy's twin. Thestandby light calmed.

  "Now we test," he said grimly. "Got a watch?"

  Lecky extended his wrist.

  "Watch it," said Sergeant Bellews.

  He stepped up the output.

  "My watch has stopped," said Lecky, through white lips.

  Graves looked at his own watch. He shook it and held it to his ear. Helooked sick. Howell growled and looked at his own.

  "That wave stops watches," he admitted unwillingly.

  "But not Mahon machines easy," said Sergeant Bellews heavily, "and notus. There was almost three micro-micro-watts goin' out then. That'sthree-millionths of a millionth of a ampere-second at one volt. We--"

  * * * * *

  His voice stopped, as if with a click. The screen of Betsy'sfactory-twin communicator lighted up. A man's face peered out of it. Hewas bearded and they could not see his costume, but he was frightened.

  "_What--what is this?_" cried his voice shrilly from the speakers.

  Sergeant Bellews said very sharply:

  "Hey! You ain't the guy we've been talking to!"

  The screen went dark. Sergeant Bellews put his hand over the microphoneopening. He turned fiercely upon the rest.

  "Look!" he snapped. "We were broadcastin' their trick wave--the wavethey used to talk to us! And they picked it up! But they weren'texpectin' it! They were set to pick up the wave they told us totransmit! See? That guy'll come back. He's got to! So we got to playalong! He'll want to find out if we got wise and won't broadcastourselves to death! If he finds out we know what we're doin', they'llparachute a transmitter down on us before we can do it to them! Back meup! Get set!"

  He removed his hand from the microphone.

  "Callin' 2180!" he chattered urgently. "Calling the guy that justcontacted us! Come in, 2180! You're not the guy we've been talking to,but come in! Come in, 2180!"

  Howell said stridently:

  "But if that's 2180, how'd we parachute--".

  Lecky clapped a hand over his mouth with a fierceness surprising in sosmall a man. He whispered desperately into Howell's ear. Graves absurdlybegan to bite his nails, staring at the communicator-screen. SergeantBellews continued his calling, ever more urgently.

  His voice echoed peculiarly in the Rehab Shop. It seemed suddenly aplace of resonant echoes. All the waiting, repaired, orto-be-rehabilitated machines appeared to listen with interest whileSergeant Bellews called:

  "Come in, 2180! We been trying to reach you for a coupla weeks! We gotsomebody else instead of you, and they been talkin' to us, and they saythat they're 3020 instead of 2180, but we've got to contact you! Theydon't know anything about that germ that's gonna mutate and bump us off!It's ancient history to them. We got to reach you! Come in, 2180!"

  The flickering yellow lights of the machines wavered as if all thequasi-living machines were listening absorbedly. The Rehab Shop was fullof shadows. And Sergeant Bellews sat before the dark-screenedcommunicator with sweat on his face, calling cajolingly to nothingnessto come in.

  After five minutes the screen grew abruptly bright again. The brisk,raceless broadcaster of the earlier broadcast--not the bearded man--cameback. He forced a smile:

  "_Ah! 1972! At last you reach us! But we did not hope you could makeyour transmitters so soon!_"

  "We tried to analyze your wave," said Sergeant Bellews, with everyappearance of feverish relief, "but we only got it approximate. We triedcallin' back with what we got, and we got through time, all right, butwe contacted some guys in 3020 instead of you! We need to talk toyou!--Can you give me the stuff about that bug that's gonna wipe outhalf of us? Quick? I got a recorder goin'."

  * * * * *

  The completely uncharacterizable man in the screen forced a secondsmile. He held something to his ear. It would be a tiny sound-receiver.Obviously the contact in time or place or nowhere was being viewed byothers than the one man who appeared. He was receiving instructions.

  "_Ah!_" he said brightly, "_but now that you have the contact, you willnot lose it again! Leave your controls where they are, and our learnedmen will tell your learned men all that they need to know. But--3020?You contacted 3020? That is not in our records of your time!_"

  He listened again to the thing at his ear. His expression becamesuddenly suspicious, as if someone had ordered that as well as the wordswhich came next.

  "_We do not understand how you could contact a time a thousand yearsbeyond us. It is possible that you attempt a joke. A--a kid, as youwould say._"

  * * * * *

  Sergeant Bellews beamed into the screen which so remarkably functionedas a transmitting-eye also.

  "Hell!" he said cordially. "You know we wouldn't kid you! You or ourgreat-great-great-grandchildren! We depend on you! We got to get you totell us how not to get wiped out! In 3020 the whole business isforgotten. It's a thousand years old, to them! But they're passin' backsome swell machinery--"

  He turned his head as if listening to something the microphone could notpick up. But he looked appealingly at Lecky. Lecky nodded and movedtoward the communicator.

  "Look!" said Sergeant Bellews into the screen. "Here's Doc Lecky--one ofour top guys. You talk to him."

  He gave his seat to Lecky. Out of range of the communicator, he moppedhis face. His shirt was soaked through by the sweat produced by thestress of the past few minutes. He shivered violently, and then clampedhis teeth and fumbled out sheets of paper. He beckoned to Graves. Gravescame.

  "We--we got to give him a doctored circuit," whispered S
ergeant Bellewsdesperately, "and it's got to be good--an' quick!"

  Graves bent over the paper on which the sergeant dripped sweat. Thesergeant murmured through now-chattering teeth what had to be devised,and at once. It must be the circuit-diagram for a transmitter to begiven to the man whose face filled the screen. The transmitter must beof at least twenty-kilowatt power. It must be such a circuit as nobodyhad ever seen before.

  It must be convincing. It should appear to radiate impossibly, or todestroy energy without radiation. But it must actually produce abroadcast signal of this exotic type--here the sergeant