by Jerry Sohl
“I—I’m not used to walking, I guess,” Sudduth said, his lips blue, hands white, skin goosefleshed and teeth chattering. “I’ve got a pain in my side. I guess I’m not ready to try it yet.”
“You’ll probably get pneumonia.”
“Let me have my coat.”
Devan handed him his coat and they walked back to the hospital where Devan sat him in front of the fire in the sunroom and got something hot for him to drink. The man shivered for a long time, finally took his hands away from his side, gave a sigh.
“My box, please,” he said, indicating the box of cigars on the table. “I need a cigar.”
Part Three: Decision
16
The three children ran chasing each other down the beach, their bare feet kicking up a shower of spray when they veered into the small waves and then back again, this way and that, in the waves and out, reversing, getting their clothes wet, the girl in the lead and the two smaller children, the boys, giving her a hard chase. They shrieked and screamed and their laughter and cries floated out over the lake while the sands of the shore recorded their footprints in a profusion that would deny analysis.
Finally, they tired and walked back to the grass at the rise and fell exhausted to the ground there, all of them breathing as if they were the last breaths they would ever take and laughing even as they did this.
“I’m run out,” Don said, panting. “You should have let us catch you, Sally, and then we wouldn’t have run so much.”
“I wish Don and me could fly,” Ralph said. “We’d sure catch you then, wouldn’t we, Don?”
“She didn’t get in the water. Girls can’t swim good.”
“I can so,” Sally said. “I could swim right now.”
“Don’t you let Daddy catch you, Sal,” Ralph said.
“Would you be an old tattletale if I did?”
“I dare you,” Don said. “Double dare you.”
“Donny Tooksberry, you know better than that.”
“‘Fraidy cat,” Ralph said.
“You be quiet, Ralph. Both of you be quiet and I’ll tell you a story.”
“What kind of a story?”
“One about what’s out there?” Don’s arm indicated the entire horizon.
“I want to hear something new, Sal. I heard all about the Needle and how Daddy met Mommy on the other side and how—”
“Let her tell it.”
“I wasn’t going to tell about that,” Sally said.
“It’s not true anyway. It’s a fairy story.”
Sally turned to Ralph and looked him in the eyes. “Ralph, how dare you say a thing like that? You know very well it’s true. Would Mommy and Daddy lie to us?”
“Heck, you really believe that stuff, Sal?”
“You saying you don’t believe it either?”
“Shucks.” Don dug his fingers in the grass and sand and brought some sand up and let it fall through his fingers. “It’s bad to say it, but”—he looked up and saw encouragement in her eyes—“but how can you believe about the buildings they tell about?”
“My father is an engineer,” Sally said. “An engineer is a thing you study for. You go to a school and study for years and years. And when you are done you know how to build buildings like that or—or a Needle like Daddy’s building right now.”
“I heard Mom tell Sal about it, Donny.”
Don curled his lips. “You ever seen a building like what they talk about?”
“I don’t have to,” Sally said. “And that’s not all. What about automobiles and television and phonographs and ice cream sodas? You’ve seen pictures of those drawn by the artists and hanging in the art museum.”
“I learned that stuff in school.”
“You learned other things, too, Don.”
Don smiled. “I was only teasing.”
Sally was lying on the grass, her shoulders supported by elbows, her eyes looking far out at the horizon. “It’s right out there somewhere that we came from, they say.”
“I’d give anything to see an airplane,” Don said. “Just one. A teeny-weeny one even.”
“What about a jet?” Ralph said. He made a jet noise, played his hands were the plane.
“The movies, they say, were grand,” Sally said.
“Oh, we’ll have all that stuff some day,” Don said.
“When we get back?”
“We’re going back,” Ralph said. “My Daddy said so.”
All three looked out over the blue water.
“Let’s all be together when we do,” Don said. “Let’s never be apart ever.”
“I’m going to want a ride in an airplane. A jet. First thing. They were working on rockets, Daddy said. Maybe I could ride one of them.”
“I wonder,” Sally said, her chin in her hands. “I wonder what it’s really like back there.”
Don stood up, shaded his eyes with his hand.
“What are you doing?” Sally asked.
“Looking.”
Sally looked too. “I don’t see anything.”
“Down there.” Don pointed to a spot at the water’s edge.
“What’s down there?” Ralph asked, a little frightened and coming close to them.
“What is it?”
“Let’s go down and see.”
“No,” Ralph yelled. “Don’t go down there.”
“Aw, come on,” Don said. “We’ll take care of you.”
They walked down the slope to the beach and then down the beach to a place where a small, furry object lay in the waves.
Don went over, kicked it out of the water.
“It’s a rabbit,” Ralph said, all the excitement going out of him.
“Yeah,” Don said.
“Wait a minute,” Sally said, examining the rabbit closely. “Notice anything strange about this rabbit?”
Don looked for a moment. “Somebody cut his tail off.”
“A funny rabbit,” Ralph said. “No tail.”
Sally’s blue eyes were puzzled. “No, it’s not that it was cut off. It looks like it grew into that little ball of fur instead of long and slim like it’s supposed to be.”
“How could it grow into a ball?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, if you don’t, then I don’t either. Let’s play tag again.” Don hit her arm with his hand. “You’re it, Sal.”
“I’m not playing, Donny.” She took Ralph’s hand. “We’re going home.”
The three took one last look at the rabbit.
“Are the children home yet?” Devan closed the screen door, put the folio of the New Chicago News on a table and kissed Betty before he sank into his easy chair and lit a cigarette.
“I thought you were they,” Betty said, glancing out the window.
“They’ve been gone most of the afternoon. Don Tooksberry came by. They went down to the beach. Any news?”
Devan reached for the newspaper and unfolded it. He scanned the headlines. “Nothing startling. I didn’t see them from the Needle building. But then I was pretty busy.”
“Think you’ll be ready for the test tomorrow night?”
“We’re ready right now. Final adjustments tonight.”
Concern crossed her face like a fleeting shadow and Betty turned away, starting for the kitchen. Devan watched her go, knew what she was thinking.
“Remember the last time?” she called from the kitchen.
Devan sighed. How could he forget how Basher had gone through Needle I even if it was ten years ago? And then thinking about it flooded his mind with associated recollections, including how Mrs. Basher had not believed that her husband had gone through the Eye and how she had gone to the police. Had they ever told Glenn about that?
“The way it happened last time,” Betty said, “you all drew straws and the winner was really the loser, for a time anyway. Is that going to happen again?”
“Can’t happen again. At least the person who goes through won’t fall in a lake.”
“How
do you know for sure, Dev?”
“You remember the little Needle we made, don’t you?”
“The one you can only put your hand through?”
“That’s it. If we had had any sense on the other side, we’d have used the little one. Then we wouldn’t have got into the trouble we did. If you call this trouble.” Devan put his cigarette out, went to the kitchen and mixed a drink while Betty continued dinner. “As it is, Dr. Costigan made a small model here first, too, and we started with that, trying to put an arm through and finding it wouldn’t go.”
“Why not?”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“If you did, I forgot.”
“We couldn’t put a hand through it because we were stopped by something solid. Wouldn’t go into the Eye at all. Then we knew we were underground on the other side of the Eye. We moved the Needle a little at a time up the hill toward the lake, moving the electrical equipment right along with us. Took us some time. But we finally got to the top of that knoll and there the hand and arm went through and could feel ground a foot below. So, you see? It can’t happen again. When you go through Needle II you know you’re not going to fall into a lake. You can walk through and back again.”
Betty smiled. “You’re a trusting soul, I swear, Devan.”
“Why do you say that?” He was a bit annoyed.
“Nobody’s gone through it yet, still you’re perfectly confident everything’s going to be all right.”
“We’ve been working on it for ten years and this time we’ve taken everything into consideration and won’t make any silly mistakes.”
“Will you answer me one question, then?”
He tossed off the last of his drink. “What’s that?”
“How do you know you’re back in Chicago when you walk through it?”
Devan colored slightly and fought for control. She had touched a vital point, it was true, one that had been discussed considerably, but it wouldn’t do to worry her about it or to let her think any of them weren’t confident....
“I must have come close,” she teased. “Your face shows it.”
“It’s just that I’m ashamed my wife, of all people, doesn’t know all the facts. Here I’ve been in charge of the thing all these years and you’ve forgotten how that part was to be managed.”
“Tell me, then.”
“Reversed polarity. Just like an electric motor. You reverse the polarity and it runs the other way. On the second Needle we’re running the current through the opposite way to create the opposite conditions. Didn’t I ever tell you these things?”
“You have, Dev. I guess I forgot. But this time I want you to be sure of what you’re doing.”
He studied her face. “Why are you so concerned so suddenly?”
“Suddenly? I wasn’t taken with this idea just a moment ago. I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”
He had never seen Betty like this. “For heaven’s sake, tell me what this is all about!”
“Really, there’s nothing to tell, Dev. What I meant was that I’ve been worried about the second Needle and what it will mean. You know we didn’t have much choice about coming here and we want to be able to decide about the next transition, don’t we?”
“We won’t be caught unawares,” Devan said, still worried about the look in her eyes and unconvinced by her explanation. “There aren’t any more Sudduthites to throw pipes into the machinery.”
“Not unless Eric gets a bee in his bonnet again.”
“He won’t do that. He’s too interested in trying to recreate the whole Bible. That man has a fantastic faculty for remembering Bible verses.”
Dinner hour lacking only the children, Betty put the food in the oven and they moved to the chairs in front of the house.
“You know, Dev,” Betty said, lighting a cigarette and exhaling a ribbon of smoke, “the Sudduthites didn’t turn out to be so bad, did they?”
“Not after they got here and were absorbed. Just think of how many we know, Betty. Even the two from that night on the beach. Funny what people will do under stress, when the controls are off.”
Betty laughed. “Some of the women are in my clubs. To look at them you’d never think they once chose to live naked in caves.”
“Once they got back with us, things moved forward again, not backward as they did in the caves. We got some good workers out of the bunch.”
They sat quietly now in the later afternoon sunlight, the sound of their neighbors coming to them across the yards. Somewhere someone was using the lawn mower—they had allowed only one to be made. After all, it could be rotated, used by everyone easily enough; besides technical help was at a premium, particularly mechanical help.
They could hear voices raised in argument and they looked at each other and smiled. The Bradleys were at it again. Was this, Devan thought, so different from Chicago’s West Side or Chicago’s any side? How many times he had said that to himself! Yet he knew that, as people, there would have to be changes in them, subtle changes that had come with the passing of the years and the living in the wilderness, changes that he was not aware of but that he was certain were there.
Yes, it would be quite a shock to get back to the old ways, to the old scenes, the old people. An unpleasant shock, really. And the thought of going back, the memory of the old gray buildings, the back yards viewed from the elevated trains, the dirty water of the Chicago River, the littered paper in Grant Park on a Monday morning, people pushing and shoving, door-to-door salesmen, the smoke-filled air, the lack of recognition in any eye—all this made the prospect uninviting. But he had always disliked city life, the confinement it necessitated, the habits it made one acquire. Then why go back? This thought was startling but easily answered. Because everyone was going back, if the Needle worked, and there wouldn’t be anyone left. Yes, he’d have to go back.
He saw the children coming down the roadway and his heart gave a thump of excitement when he did because he loved them so. He seemed to have more time for his children on this side of the Eye.
“Daddy!” Sally said, running up to him and throwing her arms around him. “Donny says there isn’t any ‘back there.’ Tell me there is, please, Daddy.”
“Why, of course there is, darling. Donny’s never been there. But your mother and I have.”
“Are there real big buildings there like you say, Daddy?” Ralph wanted to know. And when Devan said there were, he asked, “Why did they build them so big?”
“So that all the people will have places to work.”
“But couldn’t the people work outside the building?” Sally was the curious one now.
Devan looked at Betty, who said, “You’re the quizmaster tonight, Mr. Traylor. Go ahead and answer her.”
“Well.” Devan cleared his throat. This was a stickler. Why did they build them so high? “You see, Sally, so many people live in such a small area, if they were all spread out with a space for each one to work in, it would take many square miles. So they have office buildings that reach up into the sky and give them spaces one on top of the other so they don’t have to go so far to work or to get home.”
“But what kind of work could there be to do off the ground?”
“Oh, paper work, idea work, planning and working out schedules and balancing books; there are a lot of things they do.”
“How do they get up to the top?”
“Elevator. You know that.”
Devan turned to Ralph who had been tugging at his pants leg. “How many people live in Chicago?” Ralph asked.
“Millions. Three or four million, I think.”
“Millions!” Sally was dumbfounded. “Do they all work in big buildings?”
“Now, Sally!” Betty said. “Surely you learned about things like that in school, didn’t you?”
“Well, not exactly those things. We learned about airplanes and automobiles and Indians. Will there be real Indians there when we get there?”
“Only on reservations.”
“You know?” Sally said. “I think I’d like to go there on a visit. But I think I’d like to live here better. There wouldn’t be room for us there, would there?”
“A jet plane makes a big whoosh!” Ralph said. “Will I ever get to see a jet plane, Daddy?”
“What’s a department store, Daddy?”
“How does a merry-go-round work?”
“You might ask your father what a night club is, where the Chicago Cubs are this season and whether or not he’s a bull or a bear on the stock market. He’d be glad to explain, I’m sure.”
17
Devan walked down the stone path, a pleasant summer night’s breeze coming in off the lake, his step brisk, his spirits bright. He saw the tower of Needle II, a shaft of metal that rose from the top of the wooden building beneath and as he looked at it he thought: You are what ten years of my life look like, ten years that I don’t know the value of because I don’t know if you’ll work.
But tomorrow we’ll know the truth.
He laughed when he thought of how they all had at first thought it would be a matter of a few years—five at the most. And it had looked easy. But the big generators had been the stumbling block after the steam engines had been built. Still later there were some metals they couldn’t find, some methods they had forgotten, some processes no person in New Chicago had remembered. They had to be ingenious about these things, substituting some items and bypassing others.
It had looked sometimes as if the Needle would never be built, but there it was on the sandy knoll overlooking the lake, a black shaft against a sky full of stars. Would it be worth all the trouble? And, most important of all, would it take them back to Chicago? Tomorrow was the night, even though it would probably be ready for the test in a few hours. The very thought made his heart give a flip-flop. Why not have a preview tonight?
He put down the feeling, reflecting that it would not be exactly cricket. Needle II was New Chicago’s single objective, the result of Orcutt’s driving power through the months and years. To go through in advance of his knowing would be taking advantage of him. There were others to think of, too; everyone in New Chicago had a share in Needle II.
“That damned Needle!” How many times had people said that in the past ten years! It had become familiar when wire that might have expanded the telephone circuits and had taken a year to make was suddenly requisitioned for new windings in the Needle, when tubes that might have gone into a radio system were made solely for circuits in the Needle, when men who might have worked on engines, refrigerators, deep freezes, garbage-disposal units, manufactured gas and hundreds of other things were asked to work on some phase of construction for the Needle instead.
