_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 classified.
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 Disbursements, 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 shivering, we won't make any progress at all."
"I didn't mean it that way, Mr. Lake. I'm not shivering. 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 damn-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 pass 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 passing 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 basement?"
"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_....
Joshua turned from the window, then paused and looked again into the
sky. The Moon was up, a round, white will-o'-the-wisp in the clear blue
afternoon sky. He stared at it and the old feeling of affinity swept
over him, stronger than ever. The Moon was, for him, both a goal and a
tonic. Sight of its illusive form could always sweep away his doubts;
straighten his shoulders.