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The Big Tomorrow.
by Paul Lohrman.
_There are certain rare individuals in this world who seem bereft of all common sense. These are the people who set their eyes upon an objective and immediately all intelligence, logic, good advice, unsolvable problems, and insurmountable obstacles go completely by the boards. The characters we refer to are obviously just plain stupid. What they want to do, just can't be done. The objectives they have in mind are unachievable and anyone with an ounce of brains can tell them so and give them good reasons. They are usually pretty sad cases and often land in the funny house. But then again, some of them go out and discover new worlds._
He hadn't gotten any work done that morning. He'd spent most of the time pacing the floor of his small back office, and the rest of it at the window--hands clasped behind his somewhat bowed back--staring up into the cloudless sky.
At ten-forty, the intercom buzzed. He snapped the switch.
"Yes?"
"I've got those figures, Mr. Lake. We have nine--"
"Maybe you'd better come in and tell me personally, Lucy."
"All right, Mr. Lake."
The intercom snapped off and a few moments later a girl entered the office--if the prim little wisp that was Lucy Crane could be so generously cla.s.sified.
Joshua Lake stared at the elongated bun of black hair on the top of her head as she came toward his desk. There was an odd streak of rich imagination in Joshua Lake and he always felt Lucy Crane's bun was a symbol of disapproval. "Sit down, Lucy. You use up too much energy."
"I try to do my job, Mr. Lake."
"You do that--and more. What are the figures, Lucy?"
"We're in desperate shape. We have nine thousand, four hundred and twenty dollars in the payroll account. That leaves it over five thousand short. There is only about two thousand in General Disburs.e.m.e.nts, but that isn't enough to cover invoices due tomorrow. I'm afraid--"
"Don't be afraid, Lucy. That's negative. If we waste our time sitting around s.h.i.+vering, we won't make any progress at all."
"I didn't mean it that way, Mr. Lake. I'm not s.h.i.+vering. I was merely stating that we haven't got enough money."
"Then I'll go to the bank and get some more."
"Of course, Mr. Lake. Is that all?"
"Yes, that's all, Lucy. You run on to lunch."
"You aren't going out?"
"No. I'm not hungry today."
Her bun bobbed in disapproval as she left the office. Joshua Lake stared at the closed door and sighed. Lucy knew exactly how things were. She wasn't one to be fooled. But Joshua hoped the rest of the personnel were not so perceptive. The engineers and the draftsmen particularly. They could all walk out at noon and be working somewhere else by one o'clock, what with the huge current industrial demand.
He walked again to the window; an old man; bone-weary, with the weight of his sixty-odd years bending his shoulders like a brick-carrier's hod.
"_Then I'll go to the bank and get some more._" He hadn't even fooled himself this time. His chances at the bank were nil. Less than nil. His very presence there could tip the balance of their decision. Loans could be called; the doors locked before nightfall.
At the window, he lowered his eyes from the sky and looked to the gate that led into the horseshoe sweep of low buildings and back to the great, bulking hangar where precious work was being done.
A man and his dream, Lake mused.
He could see only the back of the sign hanging over the gate, but he was quite familiar with the other side. _Lake Interstellar Enterprises_ in bold, brave letters; and in the lower right-hand corner--barely discernible--_Joshua Lake--President_.
A visitor looking closely at the sign could see that it had been done over--that a discarded legend lay beneath a coat of white paint. The old name of the firm was still faintly visible: _Lake and Gorman--Castings and Extrusions_.
It wasn't difficult for Joshua to conjure up Lee Gorman's craggy, hostile face. Nor his words. Lee had a voice like gravel being ground to powder. A voice to remember....
"Of course I won't go along with this d.a.m.n-fool idea of yours! Turn a perfectly sound, entrenched business into a blue-sky factory? You've gone crazy, Joshua."
"But it's feasible, Lee! Entirely feasible. All we need is a little imagination. I've investigated. I've hired the best brains in the world.
I have all the necessary preliminary data. A rocket _can_ be built that will take three men to the Moon and bring them back!"
"That's idiocy, Joshua!"
"Don't you believe it can be done?"
"I don't care whether it can be done or not!"
"But open your eyes, man! This is an age of development. An era of movement. We're on the threshold of the big tomorrow, and we can't let it pa.s.s us by! We can't let the honor and the glory go to others while we sit on our hands and hoot from the gallery! Come alive, Lee! The world is pa.s.sing us!"
"I don't want honor and glory. All I want is a sound going business.
Suppose we could put a rocket on the Moon and bring it back? Where would that leave us? Broke and famous. And laughed at probably in the bargain."
"Nothing of the kind. We could write our own ticket. We'd control the gateway to the greatest mineral deposits within reach of Man! Think of it, Lee. Use your imagination."
"I won't go along with you, Joshua. That's all there is to it."
More of the same; days of it, and finally: "You can have the customers then, Lee. I'll keep the plant--the physical properties."
"But that's not fair."
"Perhaps not, but it's legal."
"How can I service them--from my bas.e.m.e.nt?"
"I offered you an alternative only a fool would have turned down--"
"That only a fool would accept!"
"--so now I'm going ahead and nothing can stop me. I've got a dream, man--a dream of a big tomorrow. I'm going to make that dream come true."
"Name it right, Joshua. You've got an obsession."
The end of _Lake and Gorman_....