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The Maxwell Equations

Page 5

by Anatoly Dnieprov


  The calculators had an eight-hour working day with ten-minute breaks after each hour. After the lunch break, at 1 p.m., the hall where they worked was as a rule visited by the Kraftstudt and Co. executives. The head of the firm used to linger in the hall for some time, obviously enjoying the sight of twelve men writhing in mathematical throes. I decided it was the best time to change the frequency.

  I went to my place of work that morning with the resister all ready in my pocket. I was walking on air. At the door I met the doctor. He had brought my problems for the day.

  "Hey, sawbones, wait a minute," I called out to him.

  He stopped in his tracks and looked me over, astonished.

  "I'd like a word with you."

  "Well, what is it?" he grunted.

  "It's like this," I began. "It occurred to me while I was working yesterday to return to a conversation I had with Herr Boltz. I think I was rather rash. I wonder if you would let Herr Boltz know that I agree to teach maths to the firm's new draft."

  "Good for you," he said with sincerity. "I told them that your spectre being what it is you should be set up as an overseer over that mathematical manure. We badly need an efficient overseer. Your working frequencies are all different. You could just walk among them and drive the lazy or those who have slipped out of resonance."

  "Why, of course, doctor. But I think I'd better stick to teaching. God witness I don't feel like; bashing my head against a table-top like I saw a chap do the other day."

  "Very sensible," he agreed. "I'll be speaking to Kraftstudt. I think he will agree."

  "When will I know his decision?"

  "By one o'clock, I expect, when we make our round of the premises."

  "Good. With your permission I'll approach you then."

  He nodded and walked off. On my desk I found a sheet of paper which gave me conditions for the calculation of a new pulse generator four times more powerful than the existing one. So Kraftstudt thinks of expanding his business, I thought. Yoking to it fifty-two calculators instead of the thirteen he has now. Almost lovingly I touched the pencil graphite with bits of wire in my pocket to make sure it hadn't broken.

  The conditions of the problem showed me that my calculations in connection with the existing generator were correct. My hopes for success soared. I began looking forward to lunch break. When the clock on the wall showed a quarter to one I took out my device and connected its one end to a bolt on the aluminium plate above my' desk. The other end I lengthened with more pieces of wire until it was long enough to reach the radiator in the corner of the room.

  The last minutes dragged painfully. At last the minute hand touched twelve. I quickly connected the wire to the radiator and strode into the corridor. Advancing towards me was Kraftstudt with Pfaff, Boltz and the doctor in attendance. At the sight of me they broke into smiles. Boltz motioned me to join them. I did so and we all stopped at the glass door of the room where the calculators worked.

  Pfaff and Kraftstudt were in front and I couldn't see what was going on inside.

  "That was a wise move," Boltz whispered to' me. "Herr Kraftstudt has accepted your offer. You won't regret it-"

  "What's the matter?" Kraftstudt asked suddenly, turning on his retinue. Engineer Pfaff cowered; looking through the door with an odd expression on his face. My heart missed a, beat.

  "They're not working! They're staring about, damn 'em!" Pfaff growled.

  I pressed forward and looked through the glass panel. What I saw surpassed my wildest hopes. The men who before had bent so obediently over their desks were sitting upright now, looking about them boldly and speaking to one another in loud, resolute voices.

  "It's time we put an end to it, boys. D'you realise what they're doing to us?" Deinis was saying aggressively.

  "Of course we do. They've been drumming into us that we achieve happiness through their pulse generator, the bastards. I've a mind to help 'em achieve theirs!"

  "What's happening there?" Kraftstudt queried threateningly.

  "I've no idea," Pfaff mumbled, rolling his faded eyes. "They act as if they were normal! Why don't they go on with their work?" Kraftstudt was livid by now. "We won't be on time with at least five defence orders," he said through clenched teeth. "See that they-immediately-start working!".

  Boltz snapped the lock open and our party trooped in.

  "Stand up to greet your teacher and saviour," Boltz said loudly.

  A pregnant silence was the answer. Twelve pairs of eyes full of anger and hatred blazed in our direction. A spark was enough now to set it off. My heart sang with joy. Kraftstudt Co. was about to bust! I stepped forward.

  "What are you waiting for? The hour of delivery has come. Your happiness is in your own hands. Go on, smash this criminal gang who wanted to see you all in the madhouse!"

  No sooner had I finished than the calculators rushed from their places and fell on the petrified Kraftstudt and his party. They bore Boltz and the doctor down and started throttling them. They cornered Kraftstudt, punching and kicking him. Deinis straddled over the prone Pfaff and seizing his bald head by its ears drummed it against the floor. Some tore the aluminium awnings down, others smashed window-panes. The loudspeaker torn down by a calculator crashed to the floor, followed by the desks. The floor was strewn with sheets of calculations torn to bits.

  I stood in the centre of that battle-field, issuing commands:

  "Now don't let Kraftstudt get away! He's a war criminal! He's the kingpin of this hell on earth where you've been worked to madness! Hold tight that scoundrel Pfaff! He designed that pulse generator! Give Boltz what he deserves! He recruited you and planned to recruit many more!"

  And the men, splendid in their righteous wrath, punched, kicked and throttled their enemies..

  Though no longer under the influence of the generator they could not stop now in their noble indignation of people breaking free from thraldom. Kraftstudt and his party, torn and bleeding, were dragged into the corridor and to the exit.

  I led the agitated men, hooting and jeering and cursing their former masters, through the win-dowless reception hall where I'd handed in my problems, through the narrow subterranean maze to the back door where we finally emerged into the open.

  "We were blinded momentarily by a hot spring sun and we stopped short. But not only because of the sun. In front of the door leading to Kraftstudt's apartments pressed a huge crowd of people. They had been shouting something but at the sight of us suddenly went silent. Then I heard somebody call out:

  "Why, this is Professor Rauch! So he is really alive!"

  Deinis and his colleagues kicked forward the battered executives of Kraftstudt and Co. One after another they struggled to their feet and glanced cowardly from us to the crowd pressing threateningly round them.

  A thin pale girl broke from the crowd. So she had found courage to do what I asked her!

  "That's him," she said, pointing at Kraftstudt. "And him," she added, nodding her chin at Pfaff. "They started it all…"

  A murmur came from the crowd. Voices were raised in anger. The people surged forward. Another moment and the criminals would have been torn limb from limb. But Deinis raised his hand.

  "Friends, we're civilised people," he said. "We mustn't take justice into our own hands. The interests of humanity will be better served if we let the world know about their crimes. They must be brought to trial and we will all stand as witnesses. Within those walls heinous crimes have been committed. Taking advantage of the progress of science, those monsters were reducing men to slavery and exploiting them to the last spark of life."

  "Bring the criminals to trial!" everybody shouted. "Bring 'em to trial!"

  The crowd headed for town. The criminals were in a tight circle. Elsa Brinter, the thin girl, walked at my side. She clutched my hand as she spoke to me:

  "I thought hard after our last conversation. Then I somehow felt strong and brave. And very angry for you and your friends and myself too."

  "That's what always happens
to those who hate their enemies and love their friends," I said.

  Kraftstudt and his associates were handed over to the town authorities. The Burgomaster made along speech studded with biblical references. He ended by saying: "For crimes so subtle in their cruelty Herr Kraftstudt and his colleagues will be tried by the Federal Court of Justice."

  Then they were taken away in police vans, and have not been heard of since. Nor have there been any reports in the press. But it has been rumoured that Kraftstudt and his colleagues entered government service and were entrusted with setting up a large computer centre for the Defence Ministry.

  I always boil with indignation now when looking through a newspaper I find on the last page this perennial advertisement:

  WANTED

  for work at a large computer centre

  men aged 25-40 and having knowledge of higher mathematics. Write to Box***

  Anatoly Dneprov

  Anatoly Dneprov (b. 1919), the author of “The Maxwell Equations”, which he wrote in 1960, is a distinguished physicist who works at an institute of the U.S.S.R. Academy of Sciences. His favourite subject is cybernetics – its amazing achievements to date and its breath-taking potentialities. Scientific authenticity is a salient feature of his writings.

  ***

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