The smaller receptor showed the faces of two men watching him. The larger showed a scene inside a large shop, hangar-like in its proportions. In the immediate foreground, almost full size, was a grinder in which was being machined a large casting of some sort. A workman stood beside it, a look of controlled exasperation on his face
‘He's the best you've got,' Waldo stated to the two men in the smaller screen. ‘To be sure, he is clumsy and does not have the touch for fine work, but he is superior to the other morons you call machinists.
The workman looked around, as if trying to locate the voice. It was evident that he could hear Waldo, but that no vision receptor had been provided for him. ‘Did you mean that crack for me?' he said harshly
‘You misunderstand me, my good man,' Waldo said sweetly. ‘I was complimenting you. I actually have hopes of being able to teach you the rudiments of precision work. Then we shall expect you to teach those butter-brained oafs around you. The gloves, please.
Near the man, mounted on the usual stand, were a pair of primary waldoes, elbow length and human digited. They were floating on the line, in parallel with a similar pair physically in front of Waldo. The secondary waldoes, whose actions could be controlled by Waldo himself by means of his primaries, were mounted in front of the power tool in the position of the operator
Waldo's remark had referred to the primaries near the workman. The machinist glanced at them, but made no move to insert his arms in them. ‘I don't take no orders from nobody I can't see,' he said flatly. He looked sideways out of the scene as he spoke
‘Now, Jenkins,' commenced one of the two men in the smaller screen
Waldo sighed. ‘I really haven't the time or the inclination to solve your problems of shop discipline. Gentlemen, please turn your pickup, so that our petulant friend may see me.
The change was accomplished; the workman's face appeared in the background of the smaller of Waldo's screens, as well as in the larger. ‘There - is that better?' Waldo said gently. The workman grunted
‘Now....our name, please?
‘Alexander Jenkins.
‘Very well, friend Alec - the gloves.
Jenkins thrust his arms into the waldoes and waited. Waldo put his arms into the primary pair before him; all three pairs, including the secondary pair mounted before the machine, came to life. Jenkins bit his lip, as if he found unpleasant the sensation of having his fingers manipulated by the gauntlets he wore
Waldo flexed and extended his fingers gently; the two pairs of waldoes in the screen followed in exact, simultaneous paral -lelism. ‘Feel it, my dear Alec,' Waldo advised. ‘Gently, gently- the sensitive touch. Make your muscles work for you.' He then started hand movements of definite pattern; the waldoes at the power tool reached up, switched on the power, and began gently, gracefully, to continue the machining of the casting. A mechanical hand reached down, adjusting a vernier, while the other increased the flow of oil cooling the cutting edge. ‘Rhythm, Alec, rhythm. No jerkiness, no unnecessary movement. Try to get in time with me.
The casting took shape with deceptive rapidity, disclosed what it was - the bonnet piece for an ordinary three-way nurse. The chucks drew back from it; it dropped to the belt beneath, and another rough casting took its place. Waldo continued with unhurried skill, his finger motions within his waldoes exerting pressure which would need to be measured in fractions of ounces, but the two sets of waldoes, paralleled to him thousands of miles below, followed his motions accurately and with force appropriate to heavy work at hand
Another casting landed on the belt - several more. Jenkins, although not called upon to do any work in his proper person, tired under the strain of attempting to anticipate and match Waldo's motions. Sweat dripped down his forehead, ran off his nose, accumulated on his chin. Between castings he suddenly withdrew his arms from the paralleled primaries. ‘That's enough,' he announced
‘One more, Alec. You are improving.
‘No!' He turned as if to walk off. Waldo made a sudden movement - so sudden as to strain him, even in his weight- free environment. One steel hand of the secondary waldoes lashed out, grasped Jenkins by the wrist
‘Not so fast, Alec.
‘Let go of me!
‘Softly, Alec, softly. You'll do as you are told, won't you?' The steel hand clamped down hard, twisted. Waldo had exerted all of two ounces of pressure
Jenkins grunted. The one remaining spectator - one had left soon after the lesson started - said, ‘Oh, I say, Mr Jones!
‘Let him obey, or fire him. You know the terms of my contract.
There was a sudden cessation of stereo and sound, cut from the Earth end. It came back on a few seconds later. Jenkins was surly, but no longer recalcitrant. Waldo continued as if nothing had happened. ‘Once more, my dear Alec.
When the repetition had been completed, Waldo directed, ‘Twenty times, wearing the wrist and elbow lights with the chronanalyser in the picture. I shall expect the superposed strips to match, Alec.' He cut off the larger screen without further words and turned to the watcher in the smaller screen. ‘Same time tomorrow, McNye. Progress is satisfactory. In time we'll turn this madhouse of yours into a modern plant.' He cleared that screen without saying goodbye
Waldo terminated the business interview somewhat hastily, because he had been following with one eye certain announcements on his own local information board. A craft was approaching his house. Nothing strange about that; tourists were forever approaching and being pushed away by his auto-guardian circuit. But this craft had the approach signal, was now clamping to his threshold flat. It was a broomstick, but he could not place the licence number. Florida licence. Whom did he know with a Florida licence? He immediately realized that he knew no one who possessed his approach signal - that list was very short - and who could also reasonably be expected to sport a Florida licence. The suspicious defensiveness with which he regarded the entire world asserted itself; he cut in the circuit whereby he could control by means of his primary waldoes the strictly illegal but highly lethal inner defences of his home. The craft was opaqued; he did not like that
A youngish man wormed his way out. Waldo looked him over. A stranger - face vaguely familiar perhaps. An ounce of pressure in the primaries and the face would cease to be a face, but Waldo's actions were under cold cortical control; he held his fire. The man turned, as if to assist another passenger. Yes, there was another. Uncle Gus! - but the doddering old fool had brought a stranger with him. He knew better than that. He knew how Waldo felt about strangers! Nevertheless, he released the outer lock of the reception room and let them in
Gus Grimes snaked his way through the lock, pulling himself from one handrail to the next, and panting a little as he always did when forced to move weight free. Matter of diaphragm control, he told himself as he always did; can't be the exertion. Stevens streaked in after him, displaying a groundhog's harmless pride in handling himself well in space conditions. Grimes arrested himself just inside the reception room, grunted, and spoke to a mansized dummy waiting there. ‘Hello, Waldo.
The dummy turned its eyes and head slightly. ‘Greetings, Uncle Gus. I do wish you would remember to phone before dropping in. I would have had your special dinner ready.
‘Never mind. We may not be here that long. Waldo, this is my friend, Jimmie Stevens.
The dummy faced Stevens. ‘How do you do, Mr Stevens,
the voice said formally. ‘Welcome to Freehold.
‘How do you do, Mr Jones,' Stevens replied, and eyed the dummy curiously. It was really surprisingly lifelike; he had been taken in by it at first. A ‘reasonable facsimile'. Come to think of it, he had heard of this dummy. Except in vision screen few had seen Waldo in his own person. Those who had business at Wheelchair -‘Freehold', he must remember that - those who had business at Freehold heard a voice and saw this simulacrum
‘But you must stay for dinner, Uncle Gus,' Waldo continued. ‘You can't run out on me like that; you don't come often enough fo
r that. I can stir something up.
‘Maybe we will,' Grimes admitted. ‘Don't worry about the menu. You know me. I can eat a turtle with the shell.
It had really been a bright idea, Stevens congratulated himself, to get Doc Grimes to bring him. Not here five minutes and Waldo was insisting on them staying for dinner. Good omen! He had not noticed that Waldo had addressed the invitation to Grimes alone, and that it had been Grimes who had assumed the invitation to be for both of them
‘Where are you, Waldo?' Grimes continued. ‘In the lab?' He made a tentative movement, as if to leave the reception room
‘Oh, don't bother,' Waldo said hastily. ‘I'm sure you will be more comfortable where you are. Just a moment and I will put some spin on the room so that you may sit down.
‘What's eating you, Waldo?' Grimes said testily. ‘You know I don'tinsist on weight. And I don't care for the company of your talking doll. I want to see you.' Stevens was a little surprised by the older man's insistence; he had thought it considerate of Waldo to offer to supply acceleration. Weightlessness put him a little on edge
Waldo was silent for an uncomfortable period. At last he said frigidly, ‘Really, Uncle Gus, what you ask is out of the question. You must be aware of that.
Grimes did not answer him. Instead, he took Stevens's arm. ‘Come on, Jimmie. We're leaving.
‘Why, Doc! What's the matter?
‘Waldo wants to play games. I don't play games.
‘But-
‘Ne' mind! Come along. Waldo, open the lock.
‘Uncle Gus!
‘Yes, Waldo?
‘Your guest - you vouch for him?
‘Naturally, you dumb fool, else I wouldn't have brought him.
‘You will find me in my workshop. The way is open.
Grimes turned to Stevens. ‘Come along, son.
Stevens trailed after Grimes as one fish might follow another, while taking in with his eyes as much of Waldo's fabulous house as he could see. The place was certainly unique, he conceded to himself - unlike anything he had ever seen. It completely lacked up-and-down orientation. Space craft, even space stations, although always in free fall with respect to any but internally impressed accelerations, invariably are designed with up-and- down; the up-and-down axis of a ship is determined by the direction of its accelerating drive; the up-and down of a space station is determined by its centrifugal spin. Some few police and military craft use more than one axis of acceleration; their up- and-down shifts, therefore, and their personnel, must be harnessed when the ship manoeuvres. Some space stations apply spin only to living quarters. Nevertheless, the rule is general; human beings are used to weight; all their artifacts have that assumption implicit in their construction - except Waldo's house
It is hard for a groundhog to dismiss the notion of weight. We seem to be born with an instinct which demands it. If one thinks of a vessel in a free orbit around the Earth, one is inclined to think of the direction towards the Earth as ‘down', to think of oneself as standing or sitting on that wall of the ship, using it as a floor. Such a concept is completely mistaken. To a person inside a freely falling body there is no sensation of weight whatsoever and no direction of up-and-down, except that which derives from the gravitatioiial field of the vessel itself. As for the latter, neither Waldo's house nor any space craft as yet built is massive enough to produce a field dense enough for the human body to notice it. Believe it or not, that is true. It takes a mass as gross as a good-sized planetoid to give the human body a feeling of weight
It may be objected that a body in a free orbit around the Earth is not a freely falling body. The concept involved is human, Earth surface in type, and completely erroneous. Free flight, free fall, and free orbit are equivalent terms. The Moon falls constantly towards the Earth; the Earth falls constantly towards the Sun, but the sideways vector of their several motions prevents them from approaching their primaries. It is free fall nonetheless. Consult any ballistician or any astrophysicist
Where there is free fall there is no sensation of weight. A gravitational field must be opposed to be detected by the human body
Some of these considerations passed through Stevens's mind as he handwalked his way to Waldo's workshop. Waldo's home had been constructed without any consideration being given to up-and-down. Furniture and apparatus were affixed to any wall; there was no ‘floor'. Decks and platforms were arranged at any convenient angle and of any size or shape, since they had nothing to do with standing or walking. Properly speaking, they were bulkheads and working surfaces rather than decks. Furthermore, equipment was not necessarily placed close to such surfaces; frequently it was more convenient to locate it with space all around it, held in place by light guys or slender stanchions
The furniture and equipment was all odd in design and frequently odd in purpose. Most furniture on Earth is extremely rugged, and at least 90per cent of it has a single purpose - to oppose, in one way or another, the acceleration of gravity. Most of the furniture in an Earth-surface - or subsurface - house is stator machines intended to oppose gravity. All tables, chairs, beds, couches, clothing racks, shelves, drawers, et cetera, have that as their one purpose. All other furniture and equipment have it as a secondary purpose which strongly conditions design and strength
The lack of need for the rugged strength necessary to all terrestrial equipment resulted in a fairylike grace in much of the equipment in Waldo's house. Stored supplies, massive in themselves, could be retained in convenient order by compartmentation of eggshell-thin transparent plastic. Ponderous machinery, which on Earth would necessarily be heavily cased and supported, was here either open to the air or covered by gossamer- like envelopes and held stationary by light elastic lines
Everywhere were pairs of waldoes, large, small, and life-size, with vision pickups to match. It was evident that Waldo could make use of the compartments through which they were passing without stirring out of his easy chair -~ if he used an easy chair. The ubiquitous waldoes, the insubstantial quality of the furniture, and the casual use of all walls as work or storage surfaces, gave the place a madly fantastic air. Stevens felt as if he were caught in a Disney
So far the rooms were not living quarters. Stevens wondered what Waldo's private apartments could be like and tried to visualize what equipment would be appropriate. No chairs, no rugs, no bed. Pictures, perhaps. Something pretty clever in the way of indirect lighting, since the eyes might be turned in any direction. Communication instruments might be much the same. But what could a washstand be like? Or a water tumbler? A trap bottle for the last - or would any container be necessary at all? He could not decide and realized that even a competent engineer may he confused in the face of mechanical conditions strange to him
What constitutes a good ashtray when there is no gravity to hold the debris in place? Did Waldo smoke? Suppose he played solitaire; how did he handle the cards? Magnetized cards, perhaps, and a magnetized playing surface
‘In through here, Jim.' Grimes steadied himself with one hand, gesturing with the other. Stevens slid through the manhole indicated. Before he had had time to look around he was startled by a menacing bass growl. He looked up; charging through the air straight at him was an enormous mastiff, lips drawn back, jaws slavering. Its front legs were spread out stiffly as if to balance in flight; its hind legs were drawn up under its lean belly. By voice and manner it announced clearly its intention of tearing the intruder into pieces, then swallowing the pieces
‘Baldur!' A voice cut through the air from some point beyond. The dog's ferocity wilted, but it could not check its lunge. A waldo snaked out a good thirty feet and grasped it by the collar. ‘I am sorry, sir,' the voice added. ‘My friend was not expecting you.
Grimes said, ‘Howdy, Baldur. How's your conduct?' The dog looked at him, whined, and wagged his tail. Stevens looked for the source of the commanding voice, found it
The room was huge and spherical; floating in its centre was a fat man - Waldo
He was dressed conventionally enough in shorts and singlet, except that his feet were bare. His hands and forearms were covered by metallic gauntlets - primary waldoes. He was softly fat, with double chin, dimples, smooth skin; he looked like a great, pink cherub, floating attendance on a saint. But the eyes were not cherubic, and the forehead and skull were those of a man. He looked at Stevens. ‘Permit me to introduce you to my pet,' he said in a high, tired voice. ‘Give the paw, Baldur.
The dog offered a foreleg, Stevens shook it gravely. ‘Let him smell you, please.
The dog did so, as the waldo at his collar permitted him to come closer. Satisfied, the animal bestowed a wet kiss on Stevens's wrist. Stevens noted that the dog's eyes were surrounded by large circular patches of brown in contrast to his prevailing white, and mentally tagged it the Dog with Eyes as Large as Saucers, thinking of the tale of the soldier and the flint box. He made noises to it of ‘Good boy!' and ‘That's a nice old fellow!' while Waldo looked on with faint distaste
‘Heel, sir!' Waldo commanded when the ceremony was complete. The dog turned in mid air, braced a foot against Stevens's thigh, and shoved, projecting himself in the direction of his master. Stevens was forced to steady himself by clutching at a handgrip. Grimes shoved himself away from the manhole and arrested his flight on a stanchion near their host. Stevens followed him
Waldo looked him over slowly. His manner was not overtly rude, but was somehow, to Stevens, faintly annoying. He felt a slow flush spreading out from his neck; to inhibit it he gave his attention to the room around him. The space was commodious, yet gave the impression of being cluttered because of the assemblage of, well, junk which surrounded Waldo. There were half a dozen vision receptors of various sizes around him at different angles, all normal to his line of sight. Three of them had pickups to match. There were control panels of several sorts, some of which seemed obvious enough in their purpose - one for lighting, which was quite complicated, with little ruby tell-tales for each circuit, one which was the keyboard of a voder, a multiplex television control panel, a board which seemed to be power relays, although its design was unusual. But there were at least half a dozen which stumped Stevens completely
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