o n e —and p articularly so w hen one keeps in m ind that a k n ig h t’s

  chief reliance was u p o n that piercing w eapon the lance, and that

  K night was w hat is called a freelance.

  “I also, I may say, kept before me the probability that as both a

  Peircian and as a m an of h ig h intellectual attainm ents Dodson

  would be intim ately fam iliar w ith w hat is know n of the life and

  work of both m en .”

  ‘‘Do you m ean to say,” I exclaimed, “ that your reading led you to

  the solution of this rem arkable case?”

  “ It pointed the w ay,” Street acceded calmly. “Tell me, Westing,

  Wide, any of you, w hat was Charles Sanders Peirce’s profession?”

  “ Why, Street, you m entioned it yourself a m om ent ago. H e was a

  p h ilo so p h er.”

  “ I hope not. No, poor as that sham efully treated scholar

  was, I w ould not wish him in so unrem unerated a trade as

  that. No, g en tlem en —and Miss D odson—w hen his contem poraries

  pu t the q uestion to Peirce him self, or to his colleagues, the

  answer they received was that Peirce was a physicist. And in

  one of K n ig h t’s books, in an in tro d u ctio n to a piece by another

  writer, I found this rem arkable statem ent: It deals w ith one

  51

  Plan[e]t Engineering

  o f the m ost p u zzlin g questions in relativity, one to w hich

  E instein never gave an unequivocal answer: I f all fo u r space-tim e

  dim ensions are equivalent, how is it that we perceive one so

  differently from the rest? T h a t question is sufficiently in trig u in g

  by itself—conceive of the fascination it m ust have held for

  Dodson, believing, as he did, that it had o riginated in the m in d of

  Peirce.”

  “ I begin to see w hat you are h in tin g at, Street,” W ide said slowly,

  “bu t no t why it affected Dodson m ore because he th o u g h t Peirce the

  a u th o r.”

  “ Because,” Street answered, “ Peirce — Peirce the p h y sicist—was the

  father of pragm atism , the philosophy w hich specifically eschews

  whatever cannot be p u t in to practice.”

  “ I see,” said Wide.

  “ Well, I d o n ’t,” an n ounced St. L ouis loudly. He looked at Miss

  Dodson. "D o you, kid?”

  “ N o,” she said, “and I d o n ’t see how this is going to h elp Sn — the

  professor.”

  “ Unless I am m istaken,” Street told her, “and I hope I am not, he

  no longer requires o u r h e lp —but we can wait a few m om ents longer

  to be sure. Your ‘father’, Miss Dodson, decided to p u t K n ig h t’s

  rem ark to a practical test. W hen you entered the room this evening, I

  was in the act of exam in in g the device he built to do it, a n d h ad ju st

  concluded that th at was its nature. W hether he bravely but

  foolhardily volunteered him self as his ow n first subject, or

  w hether — as I confess I th in k m ore likely — he accidentally exposed

  his ow n person to its action, we may never learn; b u t however it came

  about, we know w hat occurred.”

  “Are you trying to say,” I asked, “ that Dodson discovered som e

  form of tim e travel?”

  “ We all travel in time, W esting,” Street said gravely. “ W hat

  Professor Dodson did —he had discovered, I may add p a re n thetically, th at the basis for the discrim ination to w hich K night objected was physiological — was to bend his ow n perception of the

  52

  The Rubber Bend

  four dim ensions so that he apprehended verticality as we do

  duratio n , and d u ra tio n as we do verticality.”

  “ But that fo rm u la,” I began, “and the note itself— ”

  “ Once I understood D odson’s p lig h t,” Street explained, “ the

  q uestion was q u antitative: H ow was vertical distance—as seen by

  ourselves—related to d u ra tio n as perceived by Dodson? Fortunately

  Miss D odson’s testim ony provided the clue. You w ill rem em ber that

  on the twelfth she had seen D odson lying on a day bed, this being at

  approxim ately ten-thirty in the m orning. O n the eighteenth, six days

  later but at about the same time, she saw him on her chaise longue. A

  m om ent ago I m easured your p osition, w ith you posed as the

  m issing m an had appeared, but I still did not know w hat portion of

  the body governed the tem poral displacem ent. T h e third ap p a ritio n ,

  however, resolved that uncertainty. It took place seven days and two

  hours and ten m inutes after the second. D odson’s feet were actually

  lower this tim e th an they had been in his first two appearances; his

  center of gravity was scarcely higher th an it had been w hen he

  had half reclined on the chaise; but his head was considerably

  h ig h e r—enough to account nicely for the time lapse. T h u s I located

  the ‘tem poral d eterm in a n t’ — as I have been calling it to m yself—in

  the area of the frontal lobes of the brain. W hen you were lying on the

  day bed, Westing, this spot was fifty centim eters from the floor; when

  you were in the chaise, seventy-four centimeters; an d w hen you sat in

  that low chair, ninety-tw o and one-half centimeters. From these

  figures an easy calcu latio n showed that one centim eter equaled four

  hours of d u ratio n . D odson him self arrived at the sam e figure,

  doubtless w hen he noted that the hands of that large clock on the

  wall appeared to ju m p w hen he moved his head. As a true scientist he

  expressed it in the p ure cgs system: vertical displacem ent times

  fourteen th ousand four hun d red seconds per centim eter equals

  d u ra tio n .”

  “And he wrote it on th at slip of p ap er.”

  Street nodded. “ At some time in our future, since if it had been in

  the past we could not have p u t the paper in m otion, as we did, by

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  Planfejt Engineering

  setting u p a fan in the present w ith assurances that it w ould

  rem ain in operation for some time. Doubtless he used one of

  the laboratory benches as an im p ro m p tu w ritin g desk, an d I

  have calculated that w hen he stood erect he was in N ovem ber

  six th .”

  ‘‘W here we will doubtless see h im ,” Wide said.

  ‘‘I th in k n o t.”

  ‘‘But, Street,” I interrupted, “why should that note have undergone

  the same dislocation?”

  “ Why should other in an im ate objects behave as they do?

  U nquestionably because they have been in contact w ith us, an d there

  is, as far as we know, no n atu ral o p p o sin g force w hich behaves as

  Dodson. T here was, of course, some danger in g rasp in g the note, but

  I counted on my ow n greater mass to wrench it from its u n n a tu ra l

  space-tim e orientation. I had noted, you see, that Miss D o d so n ’s

  descriptions of her ‘fath er’ did not state that he was nude, som ething

  she w ould undoubtedly have com m ented on had th at been the

  case—ergo, he could be said to bend his clo th in g into his ow n

  reference fram e.”

  “ But why did he v an ish ,” Miss Dodson dem anded tearfully,

  “whenever he saw me?”

  “ He did n o t v an ish ,” Street replied, “he sim ply stood up, and,

  standing, passed into Novem ber sixth, as I have already explained.

  T h e first time because he heard you call his nam e, the second because

  you startled him by d ro p p in g glassware, and the third tim e because,

  as a gentlem an of the old school, he autom atically rose w hen a

  w om an entered the room . He doubtless realized later th at he could

  reappear to you by taking his seat once m ore, but he was lo ath to

  frighten you, and hoped he could think his way o u t of his

  predicam ent; the h in t he required for that I believe I have provided:

  you see, w hen I stood on my head ju st now I appeared to D odson at

  about the tim e he suffered his u n fo rtu n ate accident; the fo rm u la I

  have already quoted, plus the know ledge th at Dodson had vanished

  thirteen days ago, allow ed me to calculate that all I need do was to

  54

  The Rubber Bend

  place my ow n ‘tem poral d eterm in an t' — the area of my frontal

  lobes — fourteen centim eters above the floor.”

  “ But where is he now ?”

  Street shrugged. “I have no way of know ing, really. Obviously, he

  is not here. He m ight be at the opera or atten d in g a sem inar, but it

  seems most probable that he is in the apartm en t below u s.” He raised

  his voice. “ Professor! Professor Dodson, are you dow n there?”

  A m om ent later I saw a m an of less than m edium height, w ith

  w hite hair and a straggling yellow m ustache, app ear at the foot of

  the escalator. It was Professor Dodson! “ W hat is it?” he asked

  testily. “Alice, w ho the hell are these people?”

  “ Friends,” she sobbed. “ W on’t you please come up? Mr. Street, is it

  all right if he comes u p ?”

  “ It w ould be better,” Street said gently, “ if you w ent dow n to him .

  He m ust pack for that trip to the seaside, you kn o w .” W hile Miss

  Dodson was ru n n in g dow n the escalator, he called to the m an below,

  “ W hat project engages you at the m om ent, Professor?”

  Dodson looked irritated, but replied, “ A m o nograph on the

  nature of pragm atic time, young m an. I had a m ysterious — ” His

  m o u th was stopped w ith kisses.

  Beside me St. Louis said softly, “ Stay tuned for R alph the

  D ancing M oose,” bu t I was perhaps the only one w ho heard him .

  M uch later, w hen we were re tu rn in g hom e on the m onorail after

  Street had collected his fee from Wide, I said: “ Street, there are several

  things I still d o n ’t understand about that case. Was that girl

  D odson’s d a u g h te r—or w a sn ’t she?”

  T h e rain drum m ed against the w indow s, an d Street’s sm ile was a

  trifle bitter. “ I d o n ’t know why it is, Westing, that our society prefers

  disguising the love of elderly scientists as paren th o o d to regularizing

  it as m arriage; bu t it does, an d we m ust live an d w ork in the world

  we fin d .”

  “ May I ask one m ore question. Street?”

  “I suppose so.” My friend slouched wearily in his seat and pushed

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  Planfejt Engineering

  the deerstalker cap he always affected over his eyes. “ Fire away,

  W esting.”

  “ You told him to go dow n the escalator, but I d o n ’t see how that

  could help h im —he w ould have ended up, well, goodness knows

  w here.”

  “ W hen,” Street corrected me. “ Goodness knows w hen. A ctually I

  calculated it as Ju ly tw enty-fourth, m ore o r less.”

  “ Well, I d o n ’t see how th at could have helped him . A nd w o u ld n ’t

  we have seen him go in g down? I m ean, w hen the top of his head

  reached the rig h t level — ”

  “ We co u ld ,” Street answered sleepily. “I did. T h a t was why I could

  speak so confidently. You d id n ’t because you were all lo o k in g at me,

  and I d id n ’t call your attention to it because I d id n ’t w ant to frighten

  Miss D odson.”

  “ But I still d o n ’t see how his go in g dow n could have straightened

  ou t w hat you call his bend in orien tatio n . H e w ould ju st be

  dow nstairs som etim e in July, and as helpless as ever.”

  “ D ow nstairs,” Street said, “but not helpless. He called h im self—

  in his lab u p stairs—on the T ri-D -phone an d told him self n o t to do

  it. Fortunately a m an of D odson's age is generally wise en o u g h to

  take his ow n advice. So you see, the bend was only a rubber bend after

  all; it was capable of being snapped back, an d I snapped it.”

  “ Street,” I said a few m inutes later, “are you asleep?”

  “ Not now I ’m n o t.”

  “ Street, is W ide’s real n a m e — I m ean, is it really W ide?”

  “I understand he is of M ontenegrin m anufacture, an d i t ’s actually

  som ething unpronounceable; but h e ’s used W ide for years.”

  “T h e first time I was in his office— there was some correspondence

  on his desk, and one of the envelopes was addressed to Wolfe.”

  “T h a t was intended for the a u th o r of this story,” Street said

  sleepily. “ D o n ’t worry, Wide will forw ard it to h im .”

  56

  r

  ^ y ^ a stse /a /sA y ^ S hclAA^

  ^A^&a/ l/cu^ uu^ S ^ u fa m a /c sv

  Each day L am e H ans sits w ith his knees against the bars, playing

  chess w ith the m achine. T h o u g h I have seen the gam e often, I have

  never learned to play, but I w atch them as I sweep. It is a beautiful

  game, and Lam e H ans has told me of its beginnings in the great ages

  now past; for that reason I always feel a sym pathy toward the little

  paw ns w ith their pencils and wrenches and p lain clothing, each

  figure representing m any generations of those whose labor b u ilt the

  great bishops that split the skies in the days of the old wars.

  I feel pity for Lam e H ans also. He talks to me w hen I bring his

  food, and som etim es w hen I am cleaning the jail. Let me tell you his

  story, as I have learned it in the m any days since the police drew poor

  G retchen ou t an d laid her in the dust of the street. Lam e H ans w ould

  never tell you him self— for all that big, b u lg in g head, his tongue is

  slow and h a ltin g w hen he speaks of his ow n affairs.

  It was last sum m er d u rin g the truce th at the sho w m an ’s cart was

  driven into o u r village. For a m o n th not a dro p of rain had fallen;

  each day at noon Father Karl ra n g the church bells, and wom en went

  in to pray for rain for their h u sb an d s’ crops. After dark, m any of

  these same wom en met to form lines and circles on the slopes of the

  Schlossberg, the m o u n tain that was once a great building. T h e lines

  and circles are supposed to influence the W eatherwatchers, whose

  w inking lights pass so swiftly thro u g h the starry sky. For myself, I

  57

  Plan[e]t Engineering

  do no t believe it. W hat m en ever m ade a m achine that could see a few

  old wom en on the m ountainside at night?

  So it was w hen the cart of H err H eitzm ann the m oun teb an k came.

  T h e sun was dow n, but the street still so hot that the dogs w ould not

  bark for fear of fainting, an d the dust rolled away from the wheels in

  waves, like g rain w hen foxes ru n thro u g h the fields.

  T h is cart was shorter than a farm w agon, but very h ig h , w ith

  such a roof as a house has. T h e sides had been painted, and even I,

  w ho do not play, but have so often watched A lbricht the

  m oneylender play Father Karl, or Doctor Eckardt play B urgerm eister

  Landsteiner, recognized the m ighty figures of the Q ueen-C om puters

  w ho lead the arm ies of the field of squares into battle; and the

  haug h ty K ing-G enerals w ho com m and, and if they fall, b rin g dow n

  all.

  A sm all, bent m an drove. He had a head large en o u g h for a

  g ia n t—that was Lam e H ans, but I paid little atten tio n to him , not

  know ing that he an d I w ould be com panions here in the jail where I

  work. Beside him sat H eitzm ann the m ountebank, and it was he w ho

  took o n e’s eyes, w hich was as he intended. H e was tall an d th in , w ith

  a sharp chin and a large nose and sn a p p in g black eyes. H e had velvet

  trousers an d a fine hat w hich sweat had stained aro u n d the band, and

  long locks of dark hair that h u n g from under it at odd angles so

  th at one knew he used the finger-com b w hen he woke, as d ru n k a rd s

  do w ho find themselves beneath a bench. W hen the sm all m an

  brought the cart thro u g h the innvard gate, I rose from my seat on

  the jail steps and w ent across to the in n parlor. A nd it was a

  fortunate th in g I did so, because it was in this way that I chanced to

  see the fam ous gam e between the brass m achine and Professor

  Baumeister.

  H aven’t I m entioned Professor Baum eister before? H ave you not

  noticed that in a village such as ours there are always a dozen

  celebrities? Always a m an w ho is strong (w ith us th at is W illi

  Schacht, the sm ith ’s apprentice), one w ho eats a great deal, a learned

  m an like Doctor Eckardt, a ladies’ m an, and so on. But for all these

  58

  The Marvelous Brass Chessplaying Automaton

  people to be properly adm ired, there m ust also be a distinguished

  visitor to w hom to p o in t them out, and here in O der Spree that is

 

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