Man Who Sold the Moon Part 2

"As much as that, Archie?"

"I didn't believe my own figures when I worked it out, so I looked it up in Richardson's Astronomy. Why, we could recover more than twenty thousand horsepower in any city block. Do you know what that means? Free power! Riches for everybody! It's the greatest thing since the steam engine." He stopped suddenly, noticing her glum face. "What's the matter, kid, am I wrong someplace?"

She fiddled with her fork before replying. "No, Archie-you're not wrong. I've been thinking about it, too. Decentralized cities, labor-saving machinery for everybody, luxuries-it's all possibl~, but I've a feeling that we're staring right into a mess of trouble. Did you ever hear of 'Breakages Ltd.'?'

"What is it, a salvage concern?"

"Not by a h.e.l.l of a sight. You ought to read something besides the 'Proceedings of the American Society of Physical Engineers.' George Bernard Shaw, for instance. It's from the preface of Back to Methuselah, and is a sardonic way of describing the combined power of corporate industry to resist any change that might threaten their dividends. You threaten the whole industrial set-up, son, and you're in danger right where you're sitting. What do you think happened to atomic power?"

He pushed back his chair. '~Oh,~ surely not. You're just tired and jumpy. Industry welcomes invention. Why, all the big corporations have their research departments with some of the best minds in the country working in them.

And they are in atomics up to their necks."

"Sure-and any bright young inventor can get a job with them. And then he's a kept man-the inventions belong to the corporation, and only those that fit into the pattern of the powers-that-be ever see light. The rest are shelved. Do you really think that they'd let a free lance like you upset investments of billions of dollars?"

He frowned, then relaxed and laughed. "Oh, forget it, kid, it's not that serious."

"That's what you think. Did you ever hear of celanese voile? Probably not. It's a synthetic dress material used in place of chiffon. But it wore better and was washable, and it only cost about forty cents a yard, while chiffon costs four times as much. You can't buy it any more.

"And take razor blades. My brother bought one about five years ago that never had to be re-sharpened. He's still using it, but if he ever loses it, h.e.l.l have to go back to the old kind. They took 'em off the market.

"Did you ever hear of guys who had found a better, cheaper fuel than gasoline? One showed up about four years ago and proved his claims-but he drowned a couple of weeks later in a swimming accident. I don't say that he was murdered, but it's d.a.m.n funny that they never found his formula.

"And that reminds me-I once saw a clipping from the Los Angeles Daily News. A man bought a heavy standard make car in San Diego, filled her up and drove her to Los Angeles. He only used two gallons. Then he drove to Agua Caliente and back to San Diego, and only used three gallons. About a week later the sales company found him and bribed him to make an exchange. By mistake they had let him have a car that wasn't to be sold- one with a trick carburetor.

"Do you know any big heavy cars that get seventy miles to the gallon? You're not likely to-not while 'Breakages Ltd.' rules the roost. But the story is absolutely kosher-you can look it up in the files.

"And of course, everybody knows that automol~iles aren't built to wear, they're built to wear out, so you will buy a new one. They build 'em just as bad as the market will stand. Steamships iake a worse beating than a car, and they last thirty years or more."

Douglas laughed it off. "Cut 'out the gloom, Sweetle Pie. You've got a persecution c9mplex. Let's talk about something more cheerful-you and me, for instance. You make pretty good coffee. How about us taking out a license to live together?"

She ignored him.

'Well, why not. I'm young and healthy. You could do worse."

"Archie, did I ever tell you about the native chief that got a yen for me down in South America?"

"I don't think so. What about him?"

"He wanted me to marry him. He even offered to kill off his seventeen current wives and have them served up for the bridal feast."

"What's that got to do with my proposition?"

"I should have taken him up. A girl can't afford to turn down a good offer these days."

Archie walked up and down the laboratory, smoking furiously. Mary Lou perched on a workbench and watched him with troubled eyes. When he stopped to light another cigaret from the b.u.t.t of the last, she bid for attention.

"Well, Master Mind, how does itlook to you now?"

He finished lighting his cigaret, burned himself, cursed in a monotone, then replied, "oh, you were right, Ca.s.sandra. We're in more trouble than I ever knew existed. First when we build an electric runabout that gets its power from the sun while it's parked at the curb, somebody pours kerosene over it and burns it up. I didn't mind that so much-it was just a side issue. But when I refuse to sell out to them, they slap all those phoney law suits on us, and tie us up like a kid with the colic."

"They haven't a legal leg to stand on."

"I know that, but they've got unlimited money and we haven't. They can run these suits Out for months-maybe years-only we can't last that long."

"What's our next move? Do you keep this appointment?"

"I don't want to. They'll try to buy me off again, and probably threaten me, in a refined way. I'd tell 'em to go to h.e.l.l, if it wasn't for Dad. Somebody's broken into his house twice now, and he's too old to stand that sort of thing."

"I suppose all this labor trouble in the plant worries him, too."

"Of course it does. And since it dates from the time we started manufacturing the screens on a commercial scale, I'm sure it's part of the frame-up. Dad never had any labor trouble before. He always ran a union shop and treated his men like members of his own family. I don't blame him for being nervous. I'm getting tired of being followed everywhere I go, myself. It makes me jumpy."

Mary Lou puffed out a cloud of smoke. "I've been tailed the past couple of weeks."

"The h.e.l.l you have! Mary Lou, that tears it. I'm going to settle this thing today.""Going to sell out?"

"No." He walked over to his desk, opened a side drawer, took out a .38 automatic, and slipped it in his pocket. Mary Lou jumped down from the bench and ran to him. She put her hands on his shoulders, and looked up at him, fear in her face.

"Arch.iel"

He answered gently. "Yes, kid."

"Archie, don't do anything rash. If anything happened to you, you know d.a.m.n well I couldn't get along with a normal man."

He patted her hair. "Those are the best words I've heard in weeks, kid."

Douglas returned about one P.M. Mary Lou met him at the elevator. "Well?"

"Same old song-and-dance. Nothing done in spite of my brave promises."

"Did they threaten you?"

"Not exactly. They asked me how much life insurance I carried."

'What did you telL them?'!.

"Nothing. I reached for my handkerchief and let them see that I was cirrying a gun. I thought it might cause them to revise any immediate plans they might have in mind. After that the interview sort of fizzled out and I left. Mary's little lamb followed me home, ~as usual."

"Same plug-ugly that shadowed you yesterday?"

"Him, or his twin. He couldn't be a twin, though, come to think about it. They'd have both died of fright at birth."

"True enough. Have you had lunch?"

"Not yet. Let's ease down to the shop lunch room and take on some groceries. We can do our worrying later."

The lunch room was deserted. They talked very little. Mary Lou's blue eyes stared vacantly over his head. At the second cup of coffee she reached out and touched him.

"Archie, do you know the ancient Chinese advice to young ladies about to undargo criminal a.s.sault?"

"No, what is it?"

"Just one word: 'Relax.' That's what we've got to do.!'

"Speak English."

"I'll give you a blueprint Why are we under attack?"

"We've got something they want."

"Not at all. We've got something they want to quarantine-they don't want anyone else to have it. So they try to buy you off~, or scare you into quitting. If these don't work, they'll try something stronger. Now you're danger.. ous to them and in danger from them because you've got a secret. What happens if it isn't a secret? Suppose everybody knows it?"

"They'd be sore as h.e.l.l."

"Yes, but what would they do? Nothing. Those big tyc.o.o.ns are practical men. They won't waste a dime on heckling you if It no longer serves their pocketbooks."

"What do you propose that we do?"

"Give away the secret. Tell the world bow it's done.

Let anybody manufacture power screens and light screens who wants to. The heat process on the mix is so simple that any commercial chemist can duplicate it once you tell 'em how, and there must be a thousand factories, at least, that could manufacture them with their present machinery from materials at their very doorsteps."

"But, good Lord, Mary Lou, we'd be left in the lurch."

"What can you lose? We've made a measly couple of thousand dollars so far, keeping the process secret. If you turn it loose, you still hold the paten, and you could charge a nominal royalty-one that it wouldn't be worth while trying to beat, say ten cents a square yard on each screen manufactured. There would be millions of square yards turned out the fist year-hundreds of thousands of dollars to you the first year, and a big income for life. You can have the finest research laboratory in the' country."

He slammed his napkin down on the table. "Kid, I believe you're right."

"Don't. forget, too, what you'll be doing for the country. There'll be factories springing up right away all over the Southwest-every place where there's iota of sunshine. Free power! You'll be the new emanc.i.p.ator."

He stood up, his eyes shining. "Kid, we'll do it! Half a minute while I tell Dad our decision, then we'll beat it for town."

Two hours later the teletype In every news service office in the country was clicking out the story. Douglas insisted that the story include the technical details of the process as a condition of releasing it. By the time he and Mary Lou walked out of the a.s.sociated Press building the first extra was on the street: "GENIUS GRANTS GRATIS POWER TO PUBLIC." Archie bought one and beckoned to the muscle man who was shadowing him.

"Come here, Sweetheart. You can quit pretending to be a fireplug. I've an errand for you." He handed the lunk the newspaper. It was accepted uneasily. In all his long and unsavory career he had never had the etiquette of shadowing treated in so cavalier a style. "Take this paper to your boss and tell him Archie Douglas sent him a valentine. Don't stand there staring at me! Beat it, before I break your fat head!"

As Archie watched him disap~ar in the crowd, Mary Lou slipped a hand in his. "Feel better, son?"

"Lots."

"All your worries over?"

"All but one." He grabbed her shoulders and swung her 'around. "I've got an argument to settle with you. Come along!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her out into the crosswalk.

"What the h.e.l.l, Archie! Let go my wrist."

"Not likely. You see that building over there? That's the court house. Right next to the window where they issue dog licenses, there's one where we can get a wedding permit."

"I'm not going to marry you!"

"The' h.e.l.l you aren't. You've stayed all night in mylaboratory a dozen times. I'm compromised. You've got to make an honest man of me-or I'll start to scream right here in the street."

"This is blackmail!"

As they entered the building, she was still dragging her feet-but not too hard.

The Roads Must Roll

"Who makes the roads roll?"

The speaker stood still on the rostrum and waited for his audience to answer him. The reply came in scattered shouts that cut through the ominous, discontented murmur of the crowd.

"We do!" - "We do!" - "d.a.m.n right!"

"Who does the dirty work 'down inside' - so that Joe Public can ride at his ease?"

This time it was a single roar, "We do!"

The speaker pressed his advantage, his words tumbling out in a rasping torrent. He leaned toward the crowd, his eyes picking out individuals at whom to fling his words. "What makes business? The roads! How do they move the food they eat? The roads! How do they get to work? The roads! How do they get home to their wives? The roads!" He paused for effect, then lowered his voice. "Where would the public be if you boys didn't keep them roads rolling? Behind the eight ball and everybody knows it. But do they appreciate it? Pfui! Did we ask for too much? Were our demands unreasonable? 'The right to resign whenever we want to.' Every working stiff in other lines of work has that. 'The same pay as the engineers.' Why not? Who are the real engineers around here? D'yuh have to be a cadet in a funny little hat before you can learn to wipe a bearing, or jack down a rotor? Who earns his keep: The 'gentlemen' in the control offices, or the boys 'down inside'? What else do we ask? 'The right to elect our own engineers.' Why the h.e.l.l not? Who's competent to pick engineers? The technicians? - or some d.a.m.n, dumb examining board that's never been 'down inside', and couldn't tell a rotor bearing from a field coil?"

He changed his pace with natural art, and lowered his voice still further. "I tell you, brother, it's time we quit fiddlin' around with pet.i.tions to the Transport Commission, and use a little direct action. Let 'em yammer about democracy; that's a lot of eye wash - we've got the power, and we're the men that count!"

A man had risen in the back of the hall while the speaker was haranguing. He spoke up as the speaker paused. "Brother Chairman," he drawled, "may I stick in a couple of words?"

"You are recognized, Brother Harvey."

"What I ask is: what's all the shootin' for? We've got the highest hourly rate of pay of any mechanical guild, full insurance and retirement, and safe working conditions, barring the chance of going deaf." He pushed his anti-noise helmet further back from his ears. He was still in dungarees, apparently just up from standing watch. "Of course we have to give ninety days notice to quit a job, but, cripes, we knew that when we signed up. The roads have got to roll - they can't stop every time some lazy punk gets bored with his billet.

"And now Soapy-" The crack of the gavel cut him short. "Pardon me, I mean Brother Soapy - tells us how powerful we are, and how we should go in for direct action. Rats! Sure we could tie up the roads, and play h.e.l.l with the whole community-but so could any screwball with a can of nitroglycerine, and he wouldn't have to be a technician to do it, neither.

"We aren't the only frogs in the puddle. Our jobs are important, sure, but where would we be without the farmers - or the steel workers - or a dozen other trades and professions?"

He was interrupted by a sallow little man with protruding upper teeth, who said, "Just a minute, Brother Chairman, I'd like to ask Brother Harvey a question," then turned to Harvey and inquired in a sly voice, "Are you speaking for the guild, Brother - or just for yourself? Maybe you don't believe in the guild? You wouldn't by any chance be" - he stopped and slid his eyes up and down Harvey's lank frame - "a spotter, would you?"

Harvey looked over his questioner as if he had found something filthy in a plate of food. "Sikes," he told him, "if you weren't a runt, I'd stuff your store teeth down your throat. I helped found this guild. I was on strike in 'sixty-six. Where were you in 'sixty-six? With the finks?"

The chairman's gavel pounded. "There's been enough of this," he said. "n.o.body who knows anything about the history of this guild doubts the loyalty of Brother Harvey. We'll continue with the regular order of business." He stopped to clear his throat. "Ordinarily we don't open our floor to outsiders, and some of you boys have expressed a distaste for some of the engineers we work under, but there is one engineer we always like to listen to whenever he can get away from his pressing duties. I guess maybe it's because he's had dirt under his nails the same as us. Anyhow, I present at this time Mr. Shorty Van Kleeck-"