Fator's smile was enigmatic. "Perhaps--not. For some of us. I trust you
are reconciled, Winslow. You cannot go back. Otherwise, you are as free
as any resident of Taval. You must remain inside the dome, unless it is
directed otherwise. Our sun is two degrees colder today, and ice covers
the northern hemisphere outside. You could not escape, but I hardly
have to warn you. There are plenty of matters to interest you in our
midst. You are that type. As for your companion--"
"Kenley's a sensible chap," Bob cut in. "True, he lives for sports.
But he is an excellent auditor--I mean," he floundered, "good at
calculation and all that."
"We have machines for that, in our cities," Fator replied. And the way
he said it, made Bob feel a tiny cold shudder.
Fator closed the interview with the word that he--Bob Winslow, would be
answerable to the Senior of Taval's ruling Three. He further said that
Vasper would continue as his instructor for the present. Then, with a
nod, he turned back to his cylinder. It was whirring as Bob and Vasper
stepped into the screen.
They emerged within the sports arena again, and Bob noted Jim, watching
the games. Then he thought of Fator's cylinder. "That?" Vasper replied
in answer to a question. "He was dictating. We use a system--phonetic.
The fingers of both hands control Taval rays and thereby, the phonetic
words. Fator is writing a story of Taval, or rather, bringing the
history up to date, with a plan for his successor to carry on. That
is," Vasper added, "if he doesn't carry on himself."
"What do you mean?" Bob demanded. "You haven't discovered immortality!"
Vasper shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. But--well, there are
whispers. It would be death to mention it openly, what I have heard. Do
not ask me. But in time, listen to the whispers."
Jim Kenley trotted across the great field, looking more cheerful. "Say,
I told 'em about baseball and they're willing to take a crack at it.
And that tennis business the gals have is red hot. Some swell looking
kids around here. Hey Vasper--they ever marry in Taval?"
"If The Three decrees, yes. Otherwise, no."
Jim's face dropped. "Heck, just as I had a redhead squinting at me in
that way. Oh well, when I wake up she'll be gone, and I'll probably
find I'm fired for this spree. Where to now, friend Vasper."
For days they examined Taval, learned that it took in far more
territory than they had imagined. They visited the vat farms, where
giant plants grew, blossomed and produced heat in the matter of days,
fed by chemicals directly to the roots.
They visited factories, where food was prepared as concentrates, where
plastics from elements and vegetable tissue were compounded, all by
other machines, not at all like Bob's conception of robots. Indeed,
a lot of machines were operated by tiny mechanisms, all lens and
coils, capable of being carried around by hand. The Taval ray, Bob
learned, was a development starting with the so-called electric eye
of the Twentieth Century. And it didn't take him long to recognize
many fundamentals created by earlier Americans. Then it was he who
came to recognize others, brought into Taval as he. Vasper showed him
a stout, slow-moving person called Miller, who had ridden on Fulton's
Clermont. Miller was a chemist. And there was a slight figure out of
the Twenty Second Century, Gregg by name. He was worrying about the
First World Confederacy threatened with breakup when he was removed to
Taval. Gregg, Vasper explained, had one of the finest of new minds, and
was engaged in sinking shafts into the earth's core, to obtain heat
for Taval. As for Jim, he had taken up with a group of young fellows,
all of athletic build, and all, strangely enough, imported in recent
months. Jim mentioned a boxer, who fought in England while Jackson
was President; of a runner who broke the mile record in 1995, and of
an Olympic star winning his awards at the turn of the Twenty First
century. It amused Bob that Jim appeared to fit in so quickly. Already,
by one means or other, Jim actually had organized a baseball team,
and was considering bowling. "Too bad they ain't got race horses," he
complained to his friend. "They tell me there's one section, south of
Taval, that's clean given over to cows and hogs and horses. Funny."
"Heard anything about your duties?" Bob inquired.
"Nope. Got hauled up before your friend Fator the other day. He just
asked me if I enjoyed my meals, and minded taking part in the sports.
Asked if I'd ever been sick, or had any ailments, and they typed my
blood, and a lot of other things."
At Bob's look, Jim laughed, shrugged his shoulders. "Oh, they're doing
the same thing to the other fellows. And say, Bob. Soon as I get
acclimated, Vasper says, they want me to live at the stadium, with the
other beef eaters."
Bob didn't know why, but he had a premonition then, of some menace
directed at Jim and his friends. But he was about to be taken to his
group, and Bob felt a growing excitement at the prospect. He couldn't
help that, for Taval, scientifically speaking, was a treasure house for
any man of Bob's type. Vasper told him he should feel proud, in that he
was the only newcomer, other than an actual native of Taval, to join
this advanced group.
The day Bob heard Fator's voice over the headphones, summoning him
to face the screen, Bob's pulse was racing. Fator did him the honor
of standing before his desk as he spoke. "I am addressing the other
members of the advanced group," he said. "Winslow is to join you now.
Instruct him faithfully, and remember he has so much to study, before
he can be of value to you, and Taval. Come forward, Winslow, and join
your group."
As Fator vanished, Bob turned, gripped Vasper's hand. The latter looked
sad. "Now I must go back--for another," he whispered. "Good luck--Bob."
He was due for a surprise, to find the advanced group atop the great
dome, living in translucent quarters, a mile above Taval. There he
met Kalen and Forg, the two scientists in charge. He was shown the
rayscopes, that literally crawled along light waves, to annihilate time
and bring before the human eye universes a billion light years away.
There too, he studied the black wastes of Peltior Dark, and saw the
spectograms that revealed the choking gas areas through which they must
pass.
There was so much to learn, so much already learned, that Bob Winslow
forgot ordinary hours. The phonetic language wasn't difficult. He spent
his allotted hours in the library, and both Forg and Kalen, men high in
years, yet with agile minds were patient in revealing discoveries some
of them already centuries old. They told him that the entire universe
would suffer, and they were gambling upon a chance to survive such
intense cold passing through Peltior Dark, that the atmosphere would
thaw inside five centuries. After that, they had concluded, provided
there were no changes in the solar system, the sun would resume its
natural sphere.
"Is there a way of traveling ahead as I have come," Bob asked. "So that
we might learn our fate?"
Forg looked at Bob thoughtfully. "We have been afraid--of utter
destruction," he said finally. "In that case, we could not return. But
if someone bold enough to make the venture tried it--" He broke off.
Bob knew Forg was thinking of him. All right, he concluded. And even
then, the germ of an idea was born in his mind.
At the end of the first month, Fator summoned him again. He was pleased
with Bob's progress. It was even more than they had expected. He asked
about Bob's health, then smiled. "I believe a rest period would benefit
you," he said. "You may find your friend Kenley and spend five days--as
you wish."
"Could Vasper share the rest period with me?" Bob inquired.
"Yes. I shall advise him. He has been back to your century. He delayed,
for your benefit. You shall learn, upon seeing him."
Vasper had brought back two more young men. Likewise, he had some
magazines and newspapers. He delivered these in Jim's presence and the
latter grabbed for the sports pages. Bob picked up his choice paper.
There was a headline, and pictures.