Short Stories by Robert A. Heinlein Vol 2 Part 70

'We live in the Other World?'

'How else could we live? The mind - not the brain, but the mind - is in the

Other World, and reaches this world through the body. That is one true way of looking at it, though there are others.'

'Is there more than one way of looking at deKalb receptors?'

'Certainly.'

'If I had a set which is not working right brought in here, would you show me how to look at it?'

'It is not needful,' said Schneider, 'and I do not like for machines to be in my house. I will draw you a picture.'

Waldo felt impelled to insist, but he squelched his feeling. 'You have come here in humility,' he told himself, 'asking for instruction. Do not tell the teacher how to teach.'

Schneider produced a pencil and a piece of paper, on which he made a careful and very neat sketch of the antennae sheaf and main axis of a skycar.

The sketch was reasonably accurate as well, although it lacked several essential minor details.

'These fingers,' Schneider said, 'reach deep into the Other World to draw their strength. In turn it pa.s.ses down this pillar' - he indicated the axis - to where it is used to move the car.'

A fair allegorical explanation, thought Waldo. By considering the 'Other

World' simply a term for the hypothetical ether, it could be considered correct if not complete. But it told him nothing. 'Hugh Donald,'

Schneider went on, 'was tired and fretting. He found one of the bad truths.'

'Do you mean,' Waldo said slowly, 'that McLeod's s.h.i.+p failed because he was worried about it?'

'How else?'

Waldo was not prepared to answer that one. It had become evident that the old man had some quaint superst.i.tions; nevertheless he might still be able to show Waldo what to do, even though Schneider did not know why.

'And what did you do to change it?'

'I made no change; I looked for the other truth.'

'But how? We found some chalk marks-'

'Those? They were but to aid me in concentrating my attention in the proper direction. I drew them down so,' - he ill.u.s.trated with pencil on the sketch - 'and thought how the fingers reached out for power.

And so they did.'

'That is all? Nothing more?'

'That is enough.'

Either, Waldo considered, the old man did not know how he had accomplished the repair, or he had had nothing to do with it - sheer and amazing coincidence.

He had been resting the empty cup on the rim of his tank, the weight supported by the metal while his fingers merely steadied it. His preoccupation caused him to pay too little heed to it; it slipped from his tired fingers, clattered and crashed to the floor.

He was much chagrined. 'Oh, I'm sorry, Grandfather. I'll send you another.'

'No matter. I will mend.' Schneider carefully gathered up the pieces and placed them on the desk. 'You have tired,' he added. 'That is not good. It makes you lose what you have gained. Go back now to your house, and when you have rested, you can practise reaching for the strength by yourself.'

It seemed a good idea to Waldo; he was growing very tired, and it was evident that he was to learn nothing specific from the pleasant old fraud. He promised, emphatically and quite insincerely, to practise 'reaching for strength', and asked Schneider to do him the favour of summoning his bearers.

The trip back was uneventful. Waldo did not even have the spirit to bicker with the pilot.

Stalemate. Machines that did not work but should, and machines that did work but in an impossible manner. And no one to turn to but one foggy-headed old man.

Waldo worked lackadaisically for several days, repeating, for the most part, investigations he had already made rather than admit to himself that he was stuck, that he did not know what to do, that he was, in fact, whipped and might as well call Gleason and admit it.

The two 'bewitched' sets of deKalbs continued to work whenever activated, with the same strange and incredible flexing of each antenna. Other deKalbs which had failed in operation and had been sent to him for investigation still refused to function. Still others, which had not yet failed, performed beautifully without the preposterous fidgeting.

For the umpteenth time he took out the little sketch Schneider had made and examined it. There was, he thought, just one more possibility: to return again to Earth and insist that Schneider actually do in his presence, whatever it was he had done which caused the deKalbs to work.

He knew now that he should have insisted on it in the first place, but he had been so utterly played out by having to fight that devilish thick field that he had not had the will to persist.

Perhaps he could have Stevens do it and have the process stereophotoed for a later examination. No, the old man had a superst.i.tious prejudice against artificial images.

He floated gently over to the vicinity of one of the inoperative deKalbs.

What Schneider had claimed to have done was preposterously simple. He had drawn chalk marks down each antenna so, for the purpose of fixing his attention. Then he had gazed down them and thought about them 'reaching out for power', reaching into the Other World, stretching- Baldur began to bark frantically.

'Shut up, you fool!' Waldo snapped, without taking his eyes off the antennae.

Each separate pencil of metal was wiggling, stretching. There was the low, smooth hum of perfect operation.

Waldo was still thinking about it when the televisor demanded his attention.

He had never been in any danger of cracking up mentally as Rambeau had done; nevertheless, he had thought about the matter in a fas.h.i.+on which made his head ache. He was still considerably bemused when he cut in his end of the sound-vision circuit.

'Yes?'

It was Stevens. 'h.e.l.lo, Mr Jones. Uh, we wondered . . . that is-

'Speak up, man!'

'Well, how close are you to a solution?' Stevens blurted out. 'Matters are getting pretty urgent.'

'In what way?'

'There was a partial breakdown in Great New York last night. Fortunately it was not at peak load and the ground crew were able to install spares before the reserves were exhausted, but you can imagine what it would have been like during the rush hour. In my own department the crashes have doubled in the past few weeks, and our underwriters have given notice. We need results pretty quick.'

'You'll get your results,' Waldo said loftily. 'I'm in the final stages of the research.' He was actually not that confident, but Stevens irritated him even more than most of the smooth apes.

Doubt and rea.s.surance mingled in Stevens's face.