Complete Venus Equilateral (1976) SSC
Page 35
“Of course,” said Keg wistfully. “We’ll be across a barrel if you win, too. But the barrel will be less painful with you holding the handles than if Terran Electric holds them. The same offer goes for you, too.”
“O.K.” Channing nodded. He returned and entered the courtroom.
Tinken called Don Channing to the stand as his first witness. Don explained the function of Venus Equilateral, the job of interplanetary communications, and their work along other lines of endeavor.
Then Tinken said to the judge: “I have here a glass cube, three inches on a side. This cube was transmitted from Venus Equilateral to the Lunar station. I offer it as Exhibit A. It was a test sample and, as you see, it emerged from the test absolutely perfect.”
The judge took the cube, examined it with some interest, and then set it down on the desk.
“Now,” said Tinken, “if you do not object, I should like to present a demonstration of the matter transmitter. May I?”
Hamilton brightened slightly. “Permission is granted.”
“Thank you.”
Tinken made motions and technicians came in with the two cabinets.
“This isn’t good,” said Kingman’s assistant to the lawyer. “The old goat looks interested.”
“Don’t worry,” said Kingman. “This’ll take a long time, and by the time they get done, Hamilton will be ready to throw them out. Besides, it will make a good arguing point for my final blast. And, brother, I’ve got a talking point that will scream for itself.”
“But suppose they convince—”
“Look,” smiled Kingman, “this is really an argument as to whether matter or intelligence is carried. Believe me, that has everything to do with it. I’m keeping one idea under the wraps until shooting time, so they won’t be able to get an argument against it. We’re a cinch. That’s why I kept it in a legal court instead of a technical court. The Techs would award it to Channing on a technical basis, but the legal boys have got to follow my argument.”
“How about an appeal?”
“The record of this court is still a very heavy argument. Look, they’re about to start.”
The racket and hubbub died, and Tinken faced the judge.
“These are plainly labeled. They are matter transmitter and matter receiver. We have here a set of metal bars. They are made of copper, steel, aluminum, some complex alloys, and the brother to that glass cube you have before you. We will transmit this set of objects from here to there. Have you any suggestions?”
“A matter of control and identity. What have you for control?”
“Nothing that is outside of our hands.” Tinken smiled. “Would you care to send something of your own? Your gavel? Inkwell? Marked coin? Anything?”
“I’d offer my glasses except for the fact that I cannot see without them,” said Judge Hamilton.
“We wouldn’t break them or damage them a bit.”
“I know—that much faith I do have—but I’d not see the experiment.”
“A good point. Anything else?”
“My watch. It is unique enough for me.” He handed over the watch, which was quite sizable.
Tinken inspected the watch and smiled. “Very old, isn’t it? A real collector’s item, I dare say.”
Hamilton beamed. “There are nine of them in the Solar System,” he said. “And I know where the other eight are.”
“O.K., we’ll put it on the top. I’ll have to stop it, because the movement of the balance wheel would cause a rift during transmission.”
“How about the spring tension?”
“No need to worry about that. We’ve sent loaded springs before. Now, people, stand back and we’ll go on the air.”
Don Channing himself inspected the machinery to see that nothing was wrong. He nodded at Walt Franks at the receiver, and then started the initial operations.
“We are synchronizing the two machines,” he said. “Absolute synchronization is necessary. Ready, Walt?”
“Right!”
Channing pushed a button. There was a minute, whirring hum, a crackle of ozone, very faint, and an almost imperceptible wave of heat from both machines.
“Now,” said Walt Franks, “we’ll see.” He opened the cabinet and reached in with a flourish.
His face fell. It turned rosy. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing but choking sounds came forth. He spluttered, took a deep breath, and then shook his head in slow negation. Slowly, like a boy coming in for a whipping, Walt took out the judge’s watch. He handed it to Don.
Don, knowing from Walt’s expression that something was very, very wrong, took the watch gingerly, but quickly. He hated to look and yet was burning with worried curiosity at the same time.
In all three dimensions the watch had lost its shape. It was no longer a lenticular object, but had a very faint sine wave in its structure. The round case was distorted in this wave, and the face went through the same long swell and ebb as the case. The hands maintained then: distance from this wavy face by conforming to the sine-wave contour of the watch. And Channing knew without opening the watch that the insides were all on the sine-wave principle, too. The case wouldn’t have opened, Don knew, because it was a screw-on case, and the threads were rippling up and down along with the case and cover. The knurled stem wouldn’t have turned, and as Channing shook the watch gently, it gave forth with one—and only one—tick as the slack in the distorted balance wheel went out.
He faced the judge. “We seem—”
“You blasted fools and idiots!” roared the judge. “Nine of them!”
He turned and stiffly went to his seat Channing returned to the witness chair.
“How do you explain that?” roared Judge Hamilton.
“I can only think of one answer,” offered Channing in a low voice. “We made the power supplies out of power and voltage transducers and filtered the output for sixty cycles. Buffalo is still using twenty-five-cycle current. Since the reactances of both capacity and inductance vary according to the—”
“Enough of this!” Hamilton fumed. “I—No, I may not say it. I am on the bench and what I am thinking would bring impeachment Proceed, Attorney Kingman.”
Kingman took the cue, and before anyone realized that it was still Tinken’s floor, he opened: “Dr. Channing, you can send a gallon of gasoline through this, ah, so-called matter transmitter?”
“Naturally.”
“Then, your honor, it is my contention that no matter what the means or the intent, this instrument utilizes the sub-etheric effects to transmit energy! It is seldom possible to transmit power over the same carriers that carry communications—only very specialized cases prevail, and they are converted to the job. But this thing is universal. Perhaps it does transmit intelligence. It will and can be used to transmit energy! Matter, your honor, is energy! That, even the learned opponent will admit. We have our own means of transmitting power—this is another—and no matter what is intended, power and energy will be transmitted over its instruments. Since this machine transmits energy, I ask that you rule that it fall under the classification. I rest my case.”
Hamilton nodded glumly. Then he fixed Tinken with an ice-cold stare. “Have you anything to offer that may possibly be of any interest to me?”
Tinken shook his head. He was still stunned.
“I shall deliver my ruling in the morning. I am overwrought and must rest Adjourned until tomorrow morning.”
-
The only sounds in the room were the tinkle of glassware and the occasional moan of utter self-dislike. Channing sat with the glass in his hand and made faces as he lifted it. Franks matched his mood. Both of them were of the type that drinks only when feeling good because it makes them feel better. When they drank while feeling low, it made them feel lower, and at the present time they were about as far down as they could get. They knew it; they took the liquor more as a local anaesthetic than anything else. Arden, whose disappointment was not quite as personal as theirs, was not following them drin
k for drink, but she knew how they felt and was busying herself with glass, ice, and bottle as they needed it.
It was hours since the final letdown in the court. They knew that they could appeal the case, and probably after a hard fight they would win. It might be a year or so before they did, and in the meantime they would lose the initial control over the matter transmitter. They both felt that having the initial introduction in their hands would mean less headache than having Terran Electric exploit the thing to the bitter end as quickly as possible.
The fact of sunrise—something they never saw on Venus Equilateral—did not interest them one bit. It grew light outside, and as the first glimmerings of sunrise came, a knock on their door came also.
“Mice,” hissed Walt.
“S’nock on door.”
“Mice knocking on door?”
“Naw!”
“Mice gnawing on door?”
“It’s Wes Farrell,” announced Arden, opening the door.
“Let ‘m in. S’all right, Wes. Anyone c’n make mish-take.”
“He’s sober.”
“Gettum drink,” said Don. “Gettum drink—gettum drunk.”
“Look fellows, I’m sorry about that fool mistake. I’ve been working on the judge’s ticker. I’ve fixed it.”
“Fitched it?” asked Walt, opening his eyes wide, “Close ‘em—y‘ll bleed t’death,” Don gurgled.
Farrell dangled the judge’s watch before them. It was perfect. It ticked, it ran, and though they couldn’t possibly have seen the hands from a distance of more than nine inches, it was keeping perfect time.
Don shook his head, moaned at the result of the shaking, put both hands on his head to hold it down, and looked again. “How’ja do it?”
“Made a recording of the transmitted signal. Fixed the power supply filters first. Then took the recording—”
“On whut?” spluttered Walt.
“On a disk like the alloy tuners in the communications beams. Worked fine. Anyway, I recorded the signal, and then started to buck out the ripple by adding some out-of-phase hum to cancel the ripple.”
“Shounds reas’n’ble.”
“Worked. I had a couple of messes, though.”
“Messessessesss?” Walt hissed, losing control over his tongue.
“Yes. Had a bit of trouble making the ripple match.” Farrell pulled several watches from his pocket. “This one added ripple. It’s quite cockeyed. This one had cross-ripple and it’s really a mess. It sort of looks like you feel, Walt I’ve got ‘em with double ripples, triple ripples, phase distortion, over-correction, and one that reminds me of a pancake run through a frilling machine.”
Channing looked at the collection of scrambled watches and shuddered. “Take ‘em away. Brrrrr.”
Arden covered the uninspiring things with a tablecloth.
“Thanks,” said Don.
“Do you think the judge‘ll forgive us?” asked Farrell.
“Don’ say it,” said Walt, bursting with laughter.
“I don’ have to,” chortled Don.
“They’re both hysterical,” Arden explained.
“Carbogen and Turkish bath,” roared Don. “And quick! Arden, call us a taxi.”
“You’re a taxi,” giggled Arden. “O.K., fellows. Can do.” She went to the phone and started to call.
Farrell looked uncomprehendingly at Walt and then at Don, and shook his head. “Mind telling me?” he pleaded.
“Wes, you’re a million!” Channing roared, rolling on the floor.
Farrell turned to Arden.
“Let them alone,” she said. “Something probably pleases them highly. We’ll find out later—Yes? Operator? Will you call a cab for room 719? Thanks.”
-
Attorney Tinken faced Judge Hamilton with a slight smile. “Prior to your ruling, I wish to present you with your watch. Also I ask permission to sum up my case—an act which I was unprepared to do last evening.”
Hamilton reached for the watch, but Tinken kept it.
“You may state your case—but it will make little difference in my ruling unless you can offer better evidence than your opponent.”
“Thank you,” said Tinken. He made a show of winding the watch, and he set it accurately to the court clock on the wall. “Your honor, a telegram is a message. It requires energy for transmission. A letter also requires energy for carrying and delivery. A spacegram requires the expenditure of great energy to get the message across. The case in hand is this: if the energy is expended in maintaining the contact, then communications are involved. But when the energy is expected to be used on the other side—and the energies transmitted are far above and beyond those necessary for mere maintenance of contact—it may then be construed that not the contact but the transmittal of energy is desired, and power transmission is in force.”
Tinken swung Hamilton’s watch by the chain.
“The matter of sending flowers by telegram is not a matter of taking a bouquet to the office and having the items sent by electricity to Northern Landing. A message is sent—an order to ship or deliver. It makes no difference whether the order be given in person or sent by spacegram. It is a communication that counts. In this device, a communication is sent which directs the device to produce a replica of the transmitted object. Ergo, it must fall under the realm of communications. I will now demonstrate this effect, and also one other effect which is similar to telegraphic communications.”
Tinken ignored Hamilton’s outstretched hand, and put the watch in the cabinet. Hamilton roared, but Tinken put up a hand to stop him. “I assure you that this will cause no ill effects. We have repaired the damage.”
“For every minute of delay between now and the moment I receive my watch, I shall fine you one hundred dollars for contempt of court,” Hamilton stormed.
“Well worth it,” smiled Tinken.
Channing pressed the switch.
Click! went the receiver, and from a slide Channing removed the judge’s watch. With a flourish he started it, and handed it to the judge, who glared.
“Now,” added Tinken, “I wish to add—
CLICK!
“—two objects may be similar in form—
Click!
“—but can not be identities!
Click!
“However, two communications—
Click!
“—may be dissimilar in form—
Click!
“—but identical in meaning!
Click!
“We have before us—
Click!
“—a condition where—
Click!
“—identical messages are—
Click!
“—being reproduced in identical form—
Click!
“—just like a bunch of—
Click!
“—carbon copies!
Click!
“The production rate of which—
Click!
“—will be high enough—
Click!
“—to lower the cost—
Click!
“—of this previously rare item—
Click!
“—until it is well within the reach of us all.
Click!
“Just as in communications—
Click!
“—we may send an order—
Click!
“—directing the fabrication—
Click!
“—of several hundred similar items!
Click!
“And our supplier will bill us—
Click!
“—for them later!”
Brrr-rup!
“That last buzz or burp was a signal that we have reached the end of our matter bank, your honor. Our credit, for example, has run out. However, Dr. Channing is about to make a substantial deposit with the manufacturer, and we will resume operations later. I ask you—
Click!
“—can you do this with ener
gy?”
Click!
“Stop that infernal—
Click!
“—machine before I have you all held for disrespect, perjury, contempt of court, and grand larceny!” yelled the judge.
Channing stopped the machine and started to hand out the carbon-copy watches to the audience, who received them with much glee.
Kingman came to life at this point. He rose from his chair and started to object, but he was stopped by Tinken who leaned over and whispered: “My worthy and no doubt learned opponent, I’d advise you to keep your magnificent oratory buttoned tight in those flapping front teeth of yours. If we all get into that gadget—how would you like to fight ten or twelve of us?”
-
Interlude
Don Channing turned from the court and made his way through the room to the hallway. In his hand he bore one of the judge’s watch replicas. In his mind he had the world by the tail.
He was going to leave the court, make his way to Venus Equilateral, and launch a new era.
He didn’t know that he had launched one already.
-
Pandora’s Millions
“A lot has been written about mankind starving amid plenty. But never before was a civilization confronted with the prospect of luxury amid bankruptcy—”
-
Keg Johnson was the executive type. He was the chief executive of Interplanetary Transport, a position of no mean height. Keg had become the chief executive by sheer guts, excellent judgment, and the ability to gamble and win.
Like any high executive in a culture based on a technical background, Keg was well aware of science. He was no master of the scientific method nor of laboratory technique. He was able to understand most of the long-baked concepts if they were presented in words of less than nine syllables, and he was more than anxious to make use of any scientific discovery that came from the laboratory. He knew that the laboratory paid off in the long run.
Keg Johnson was strictly a good businessman. He played a good game and usually won because he could size up any situation at a glance and prepare his next move while his opponent was finishing his preparatory speech.
So when Keg met Don Channing in the hallway of the courtroom in Buffalo, he was dangling an exact replica of the judge’s watch—a timepiece no longer a rare collector’s item.