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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30988-h.zip b/30988-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..07d9d87 --- /dev/null +++ b/30988-h.zip diff --git a/30988-h/30988-h.htm b/30988-h/30988-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5818d83 --- /dev/null +++ b/30988-h/30988-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1621 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Junkmakers, by Albert Teichner + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; font-size:smaller;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-top: 0.30em; + margin-right: 0.3em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft1 { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-right: 0.25em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Junkmakers, by Albert R. Teichner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Junkmakers + +Author: Albert R. Teichner + +Illustrator: West + +Release Date: January 16, 2010 [EBook #30988] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JUNKMAKERS *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Robert Cicconetti, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from If: Worlds of Science Fiction July 1961. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p></div> +<p> </p> + +<h1>THE JUNKMAKERS</h1> +<p> </p> +<h2>BY ALBERT TEICHNER</h2> +<p> </p> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>ERIC WAS THE BEST ROBOT THEY'D EVER HAD—PERFECTLY TRAINED, +EVER THOUGHTFUL, A JOY TO OWN. NATURALLY THEY HAD TO DESTROY +HIM!</p></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>I</h2> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="65" height="50" /></div> +<p>endell Hart had drifted, rather than plunged, into the underground +movement. Later, discussing it with other members of the Savers' +Conspiracy, he found they had experienced the same slow, almost casual +awakening. His own, though, had come at a more appropriate time, just +a few weeks before the Great Ritual Sacrifice.</p> + +<p>The Sacrifice took place only once a decade, on High Holy Day at dawn +of the spring equinox. For days prior to it joyous throngs of workers +helped assemble old vehicles, machine tools and computers in the +public squares, crowning each pile with used, disconnected robots. In +the evening of the Day they proudly made their private heaps on the +neat green lawns of their homes. These traditionally consisted of +household utensils, electric heaters, air conditioners and the family +servant.</p> + +<p>The wealthiest—considered particularly blessed—even had two or three +automatic servants beyond the public contribution, which they +destroyed in private. Their more average neighbors crowded into their +gardens for the awesome festivities. The next morning everyone could +return to work, renewed by the knowledge that the Festival of Acute +Shortages would be with them for months.</p> + +<p>Like everyone else, Wendell had felt his sluggish pulse gaining new +life as the time drew nearer.</p> + +<p>A cybernetics engineer and machine tender, he was down to ten hours a +week of work. Many others in the luxury-gorged economy had even +smaller shares of the purposeful activities that remained. At night he +dreamed of the slagger moving from house to house as it burned, melted +and then evaporated each group of junked labor-blocking devices. He +even had glorious daydreams about it. Walking down the park side of +his home block, he was liable to lose all contact with the outside +world and peer through the mind's eye alone at the climactic +destruction.</p> + +<p>Why, he sometimes wondered, are all these things so necessary to our +resurrection?</p> + +<p>Marie had the right answer for him, the one she had learned by rote in +early childhood: "All life moves in cycles. Creation and progress +must be preceded by destruction. In ancient times that meant we had to +destroy each other; but for the past century our inherent need for +negative moments has been sublimated—that's the word the news +broadcasts use—into proper destruction." His wife smiled. "I'm only +giving the moral reason, of course. The practical one's obvious."</p> + +<p>Obvious it was, he had to concede. Men needed to work, not out of +economic necessity any more but for the sake of work itself. Still a +man had to wonder....</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="50" height="50" /></div> +<p>e had begun to visit the Public Library Archives, poring over musty +references that always led to maddeningly frustrating dead ends. For +the past century nothing really informative seemed to have been +written on the subject.</p> + +<p>"You must have government authorization," the librarian explained when +he asked for older references. Which, naturally, made him add a little +suspicion to his already large dose of wonder.</p> + +<p>"You're tampering with something dangerous," Marie warned. "It would +make more sense for you to take long-sleep pills until the work cycle +picks up."</p> + +<p>"I <i>will</i> get to see those early references," he said through clenched +teeth.</p> + +<p>He did.</p> + +<p>All he had needed to say at the library was that his work in sociology +required investigation of some twentieth century files. The librarian, +a tall, gaunt man, had given him a speculative glance. "Of course, you +don't have government clearance.... But we get so few inquiries in +sociology that I'm willing to offer a little encouragement." He +sighed. "Don't get many inquiries altogether. Most people just can't +stand reading. You might be interested to know this—one of the best +headings to research in sociology is <i>Conspicuous consumption</i>."</p> + +<p>Then it was Wendell's turn to glance speculatively. The older man, +around a healthy hundred and twenty-five, had a look of earnest +dedication about him that commanded respect as well as confidence.</p> + +<p>"Conspicuous consumption? An odd combination of words. Never heard of +that before. I will look it up."</p> + +<p>The librarian was nervous as he led his visitor into a reference +booth. "That's about all the help I can offer. If anything comes up, +just ring for me. Burnett's the name. Uh—you won't mention I put you +on the file without authorization, I hope."</p> + +<p>"Certainly not."</p> + +<p>As soon as he was alone he typed <i>Conspicuous consumption</i> into the +query machine.</p> + +<p>It started grinding out long bibliographical sheets as well as +cross-references to <i>Obsolescence, Natural</i>; <i>Obsolescence, +Technological</i>; <i>Obsolescence, Planned</i>, plus even odder items such as +<i>Waste-making, Art of</i> and <i>Production, Stimulated velocity of</i>. How +did such disparate subjects tie in with each other?</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="42" height="50" /></div> +<p>y the end of the afternoon he began to see, if only dimly, to what +the unending stream of words on the viewer pointed.</p> + +<p>For centuries ruling classes had made a habit of conspicuously wasting +goods and services that were necessities for the mass of men. It was +the final and highest symbol of social power. By the time of Louis XIV +the phenomenon had reached its first peak. The second came in the +twentieth century when mass production permitted millions to devote +their lives to the acquisition and waste of non-essentials. Hart's +twenty-second century sensibilities were repelled by the examples +given. He shuddered at the thought of such anti-social behavior.</p> + +<p>But a parallel development was more appealingly positive in its +implications. As the technological revolution speeded up, devices were +superseded as soon as produced. The whole last half of the 1900's was +filled with instances where the drawing board kept outstripping the +assembly line.</p> + +<p>Hart remembered this last change from early school days but the later, +final development was completely new and shocking to him. Advertising +had pressured more and more people to replace goods <i>before</i> they wore +out with other goods that were, essentially, no improvement on their +predecessors! Eventually just the word "NEW" was enough to trigger +buying panics.</p> + +<p>There had been growing awareness of what was happening, even sporadic +resistance to it by such varied ideologies as Conservative Thrift, +Asocial Beatnikism and Radical Inquiry. But, strangely enough, very +few people had cared. Indeed, anything that diminished consumption was +viewed as dangerously subversive.</p> + +<p>"And rightly so!" was his first, instinctive reaction. His second, +reasoned one, though, was less certain.</p> + +<p>The contradiction started to give him a headache. He hurried from the +scanning room, overtaxed eyes blinking at the rediscovery of daylight.</p> + +<p>Burnett walked him to the door. "Not feeling well?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"I'll be all right. I just need a few days real work." He stopped. +"No, that's not why. I'm confused. I've been reading crazy things +about obsolescence. They used to have strange reasons for it. Why, +some people even said replacements were not always improvements and +were unnecessary!"</p> + +<p>Burnett could not completely hide his pleasure. "You've been getting +into rather deep stuff."</p> + +<p>"Deep—or nonsensical!"</p> + +<p>"True. True. Come back tomorrow and read some more."</p> + +<p>"Maybe I will." But he was happy to get away from the library +building.</p> + +<p>Marie was horrified when he told her that evening about his studies. +"Don't go back there," she pleaded. "It's dangerous. It's subversive! +How could people say such awful things? You remember that Mr. Johnson +around the corner? He seemed such a nice man, too, until they arrested +him without giving a reason ... and how messed up he was when he got +out last year. I'll bet that kind of talk explains the whole thing. +It's crazy. Everyone knows items start wearing out and they have to be +replaced."</p> + +<p>"I realise that, honey, but it's interesting to speculate. Don't we +have guaranteed freedom of thought?"</p> + +<p>She threw up her hands as if dealing with a child. "Naturally we have +freedom of thought. But you should have the right thoughts, shouldn't +you? Wendell, promise me you won't go back to that library."</p> + +<p>"Well—"</p> + +<p>"Reading's a very risky thing anyway." Her eyes were saucer-round +with fright. "Please, darling. Promise."</p> + +<p>"Sure, you're right, honey. I promise."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="50" height="50" /></div> +<p>e meant it when he said it. But that night, tossing from side to +side, he felt less certain. In the morning, as he went out, Marie +asked him where he was going.</p> + +<p>"I want to observe the preparations for the Preliminary Rites."</p> + +<p>"Now that," she grinned, "is what I call <i>healthy</i> thinking."</p> + +<p>For a while he did stand around the Central Plaza along with thousands +of other idlers, watching the robot dump trucks assemble the piles of +discarded equipment. The crowd cheered loudly as an enormous crane was +knocked over on its side.</p> + +<p>"There's fifty millions worth out there!" a bystander exulted. "It's +going to be the biggest Preliminary I've ever seen."</p> + +<p>"It certainly will be!" he said, catching a little of the other man's +enthusiasm despite his previous doubts.</p> + +<p>Preliminary Rites were part of the emotion-stoking that preceded the +Highest Holy Day. Each Rite was greater and more destructive than +those that had gone before. As tokens of happy loyalty, viewers threw +hats and watches and stickpins onto the pile just prior to the entry +of the slaggers. What better way could be found for each man to +manifest his common humanity?</p> + +<p>After a while doubt started assailing him again, and Hart found +himself returning almost against his will to the Library Building. +Burnett greeted him cordially. "To-day's visit is completely legal," +he said. "Anyone doing olden time research is automatically authorized +if he has been here before."</p> + +<p>"I hope my thought can be as legal," Hart blurted out. "Well—that was +just a joke."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can recognize a joke when I hear one, my friend."</p> + +<p>Hart went to his booth, feeling the man's eyes measuring him more +intently than ever. It was almost a welcome relief to start reading +the reference scanner once more.</p> + +<p>But not for long. As the wider pattern unfolded, his anxiety state +intensified.</p> + +<p>It was becoming perfectly obvious that many, many replacements used to +be made long before they were needed. And it was still true. <i>I should +not be thinking such thoughts</i>, he told himself, <i>I should be outside +in the Plaza, being normal and human</i>.</p> + +<p>But he could see how it had come about, step by step. First there had +been pressure from the ruling echelons, many of whose members only +maintained their status through excessive production. Then, much more +important, there had been the willful blindness of the masses who +wanted to keep their cozy, familiar treadmills going.</p> + +<p>He slammed down the <i>off</i> button and went out to the librarian's desk. +"Do people want to work all the time," he said, "for the sake of work +alone?"</p> + +<p>He immediately regretted the question. But Burnett did not seem to +mind. "You've only stated the positive reason, Mr. Hart. The negative +one could be stronger—the fear of what they would have to do if they +did not have to work much over a long period."</p> + +<p>"What would it mean?"</p> + +<p>"Why, they would have to start thinking! Most people don't mind +thought if it's concentrated in a narrow range. But if they have to +think in a broad range to keep boredom away—no, that's too high a +price for most of them! They avoid it when they can. And under present +circumstances they can." He stopped. "Of course that's a purely +hypothetical fiction I'm constructing."</p> + +<p>Hart shook his head. "It sounds awfully real to be purely—" He, too, +caught himself up. "Of course, you're only positing a fiction."</p> + +<p>Burnett started putting his desk papers away. "I'm leaving now. The +Preliminary begins soon. Want to come?"</p> + +<p>The man's face was stolidly blank except for his brown eyes which +burned like a zealot's. Fascinated by them, Hart agreed. It would be +best to return anyway. Some of the bystanders had looked too curiously +at him when he had left. Who would willingly leave a Rite when it was +approaching its climax?</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>he Plaza was now thronged and the sacrificial pile towered over a +hundred feet in the cleared center area. Then, as the first collective +<i>Ah!</i> arose, a giant slagger lumbered in from the east, the direction +prescribed for such commencements. Long polarity arms glided smoothly +out of the central mechanism and reached the length for Total +Destruction.</p> + +<p>"That's the automatic setting," parents explained to their children.</p> + +<p>"When?" the children demanded eagerly.</p> + +<p>"Any moment now."</p> + +<p>Then the unforeseen occurred.</p> + +<p>There was a rumbling from inside the pile and a huge jagged patchwork +of metal shot out, smashing both arms. The slagger teetered, swaying +more and more violently from side to side until it collapsed on its +side. The rumbling grew. And then the pile, like a mechanical cancer, +ripped the slagger apart and then absorbed it.</p> + +<p>The panicking crowd fell back. Somewhere a child began crying, +provoking more hubbub. "Sabotage!" people were crying. "Let's get +away!"</p> + +<p>Nothing like this had ever happened before. But Hart knew instantly +what had caused it. Some high-level servo mechanisms had not been +thoroughly disconnected. They had repaired their damages, then imposed +their patterns on the material at hand.</p> + +<p>A second slagger came rushing into the square. It discharged +immediately; and the pile finally collapsed and disintegrated as it +was supposed to.</p> + +<p>The crowd was too shocked to feel the triumph it had come for, but +Hart could not share their horror. Burnett eyed him. "Better look +indignant," he said. "They'll be out for blood. Somebody must have +sabotaged the setup."</p> + +<p>"Catch the culprits!" he shouted, joining the crowd around him. "Stop +anti-social acts!"</p> + +<p>"Stop anti-social acts!" roared Burnett; and, in a whisper: "Hart, +let's get out of here."</p> + +<p>As they pushed their way through the milling crowd, a loudspeaker boomed +out: "Return home in peace. The instincts of the people are good. Healthy +destruction forever! The criminals will be tracked down ... if they +exist."</p> + +<p>"A terrible thing, friend," a woman said to them.</p> + +<p>"Terrible, friend," Burnett agreed. "Smash the anti-social elements +without mercy!"</p> + +<p>Three children were clustered together, crying. "I wanted to set the +right example for them," said the father to anyone who would listen. +"They'll <i>never</i> get over this!"</p> + +<p>Hart tried to console them. "Next week is High Holy Day," he said, but +the bawling only increased.</p> + +<p>The two men finally reached a side avenue where the crowd was thinner. +"Come with me," Burnett ordered, "I want you to meet some people."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_h.jpg" alt="H" width="50" height="50" /></div> +<p>e sounded as if he were instituting military discipline but Hart, +still dazed, willingly followed. "It wasn't such a terrible thing," he +said, listening to the distant uproar. "Why don't they shut up!"</p> + +<p>"They will—eventually." Burnett marched straight ahead and looked +fixedly in the same direction.</p> + +<p>"The thing could have gobbled up the city if there hadn't been a +second slagger!" said a lone passerby.</p> + +<p>"Nonsense," Burnett muttered under his breath. "You know that, Hart. +Any self-regulating mechanism reaches a check limit sooner than that."</p> + +<p>"It has to."</p> + +<p>They turned into a large building and went up to the fiftieth floor. +"My apartment," said Burnett as he opened the door.</p> + +<p>There were about fifteen people in the large living room. They rose, +smiling, to greet their host. "Let's save the self-congratulations for +later," snapped Burnett. "These were merely our own preliminaries. +We're not out of the woods yet. This, ladies and gentlemen, is our +newest recruit. He has seen the light. I have fed him basic data and +I'm sure we're not making a mistake with him."</p> + +<p>Hart was about to demand what was going on when a short man with eyes +as intense as Burnett's proposed a toast to "the fiasco in the Plaza." +Everyone joined in and he did not have to ask.</p> + +<p>"Burnett, I don't quite understand why I am here but aren't you taking +a chance with me?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I've followed your reactions since your first visit to +the library. Others here have also—when you were completely unaware +of being observed. The gradual shift in viewpoint is familiar to us. +We've all been through it. The really important point is that you no +longer like the kind of world into which you were born."</p> + +<p>"That's true, but no one can change it."</p> + +<p>"We <i>are</i> changing it," said a thin-faced young woman. "I work in a +servo lab and—."</p> + +<p>"Miss Wright, time enough for that later," interrupted Burnett. "What +we must know now, Mr. Hart, is how much you're willing to do for your +new-found convictions? It will be more work than you've ever dreamed +possible."</p> + +<p>He felt as exhilarated as he did in the months after High Holy Day. +"I'm down to under ten hours labor a week. I'd do anything for your +group if I could get more work."</p> + +<p>Burnett gave him a hearty handshake of congratulation ... but was +frowning as he did so. "You're doing the right thing—for the wrong +reason. Every member of this group could tell you why. Miss Wright, +since you feel like talking, explain the matter."</p> + +<p>"Certainly. Mr. Hart, we are engaged in an activity of so-called +subversion for a positive reason, not merely to avoid insufficient +work load. Your reason shows you are still being moved by the values +that you despise. We <i>want</i> to cut the work-production load on people. +We want them to <i>face</i> the problem of leisure, not flee it."</p> + +<p>"There's a heart-warming paradox here," Burnett explained. "Every +excess eventually undermines itself. Everybody in the movement starts +by wanting to act for their beliefs because work appears so attractive +for its own sake. I was that way, too, until I studied the dead art +of philosophy."</p> + +<p>"Well—" Hart sat down, deeply troubled. "Look, I deplore destroying +equipment that is still perfectly useful as much as any of you do. But +there <i>is</i> a problem. If the destruction were stopped there would be +so much leisure people would rot from boredom."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_b.jpg" alt="B" width="42" height="50" /></div> +<p>urnett pounced eagerly on the argument. "Instead they're rotting from +artificial work. Boredom is a temporary, if recurring phenomenon of +living, not a permanent one. If most men face the difficulty of empty +time long enough they find new problems with which to fill that time. +That's where philosophy showed me the way. None of its fundamental +mysteries can ever be solved but, as you pit yourself against them, +your experience and capacity for being alive grows."</p> + +<p>"Very nice," Hart grinned, "wanting all men to be philosophers. They +never have been."</p> + +<p>"You shouldn't have brought him here," growled the short man. "He's +not one of us. Now we have a real mess."</p> + +<p>"Johnson, I'm leader of this group!" Burnett exploded. "Credit me with +a little understanding. All right, Hart, what you say is true. But +why? Because most men have always worked too hard to achieve the +fruits of curiosity."</p> + +<p>"I hate to keep being a spoil-sport, but what does that prove? <i>Some</i> +men who had to work as hard as the rest have been interested in things +beyond the end of their nose."</p> + +<p>They all groaned their disapproval.</p> + +<p>"A good point, Hart, but it doesn't prove what you think. It just +shows that a minority enjoy innate capacities and environmental +variations that make the transition to philosopher easier."</p> + +<p>"And <i>you</i> haven't proven anything about the incurious majority."</p> + +<p>"This does, though: whenever there was a favorable period the majority +who could, as you put it, see beyond the ends of their noses +increased. Our era is just the opposite. We are trapped in a vicious +circle. Those noses are usually so close to the grindstone that men +are afraid to raise their heads. We are breaking that circle!"</p> + +<p>"It's a terribly important thing to aim for, Burnett, but—" He +brought up another doubt and somebody else answered it immediately.</p> + +<p>For the next half hour, as one uncertainty was expressed after +another, everybody joined in the answers until inexorable logic forced +his surrender.</p> + +<p>"All right," he conceded, "I will do anything I can—not to make work +for myself, but to help mankind rise above it."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_e.jpg" alt="E" width="44" height="50" /></div> +<p>xcept for a brief, triumphant glance in Johnson's direction, Burnett +gave no further attention to what had happened and plunged immediately +into practical matters.</p> + +<p>To halt the blind worship of work, the Rites had first to be +discredited. And to discredit the Rites, the awe inspired by their +infallible performance had to be weakened. The sabotage of the +Preliminary had been the first local step in that direction. There had +been a few similar, if smaller, episodes, executed by other groups, +but they had received as little publicity as possible.</p> + +<p>"Johnson, you pulled one so big this time that they can't hide it. +Twenty thousand witnesses! When it comes to getting things done you're +the best we have!"</p> + +<p>The little man grinned. "But you're the one who knows how to pick +recruits and organize our concepts. This is how it worked. I re-fed +the emptied cryotron memory box of a robot discard with patterns to +deal with anything it was likely to encounter in a destruction pile. I +kept the absolute-freeze mechanism in working order, but developed a +shield that would hide its activity from the best pile detector." He +spread a large tissue schematic out on the floor and they all +gathered around it to study the details. "Now, the important thing was +to have an external element that could resume contact with a wider +circuit, which could in turn start meshing with the whole robot +mechanism and then through that mechanism into the pile. This little +lever made the contact at a pre-fed time."</p> + +<p>Miss Wright was enthusiastic. "That contact is half the size of any +I've been able to make. It's crucially important," she added to Hart. +"A large contact can look suspicious."</p> + +<p>While others took miniphotos of the schematic, Hart studied the +contact carefully. "I think I can reduce its size by another fifty per +cent. Alloys are one of my specialties—when I get a chance to work at +them."</p> + +<p>"That would be ideal," said Burnett. "Then we could set up many more +discarded robots without risk. How long will it take?"</p> + +<p>"I can rough it out right now." He scribbled down the necessary +formulas and everyone photographed that too.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/junkmakers.jpg" width="500" height="580" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Maximum security is now in effect," announced Burnett. "You will +destroy your copies as soon as you have transferred them to edible +base copies. At the first hint of danger you will consume them. Use +home enlargers for study. In no case are you to make permanent +blowups that would be difficult to destroy quickly." He considered +them sternly. "Remember, you are running a great risk. You're not only +opposing the will of the state but the present will of the vast +majority of citizens."</p> + +<p>"If there are as many other underground groups as you indicate," said +Hart, "they should have this information."</p> + +<p>"We get it to them," answered Burnett. "I'm going on health leave from +my job."</p> + +<p>"And what will be your excuse?" Wright demanded anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Nervous shock," smiled their leader. "After all, I did see today's +events in the Plaza."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_w.jpg" alt="W" width="65" height="50" /></div> +<p>hen Hart reached home his wife was waiting for him. "Why did you take +so long, Wendell. I was worried sick. The radio says anti-socials are +turning wild servos loose. How could human beings do such a thing?"</p> + +<p>"I was there. I saw it all happen." He frowned. "The crowd was so +dense I couldn't get away."</p> + +<p>"But what happened? The way the news was broadcast I couldn't +understand anything."</p> + +<p>He described the situation in great detail and awaited Marie's +reaction. It was even more encouraging than he had hoped for. "I +understand less than before! How could anything reactivate that +rubble? They put everything over five years old into the piles, and +the stuff's supposed to be decrepit already. You'd almost think we +were destroying wealth before its time, because if those disabled +mechanisms reactivate—" She came to a dead halt. "That's madness! Oh, +I wish High Holy Day were here already so I could get back to work and +stop this empty <i>thinking</i>!"</p> + +<p>Her honest face was more painfully distorted than he had ever seen it +before, even during the universal pre-Rite doldrums. "Only a few more +days to go," he consoled. "Don't worry, honey. Everything's going to +be all right. Now I'd like to be alone in the study for a while. I've +been through an exhausting time."</p> + +<p>"Aren't you going to eat?"</p> + +<p>The last word triggered the entry of Eric, the domestic robot, pushing +the dinner cart ahead of him. "No food to-night," Hart insisted. The +shining metal head nodded its assent and the cart was wheeled out.</p> + +<p>"That's not a very humane thing to do," she scolded. "Eric's not going +to be serving many more meals—"</p> + +<p>"Good grief, Marie, just leave me alone for a while, will you?" He +slammed the study door shut, warning himself to display less +nervousness in the future as he listened to her pacing outside. Then +she went away.</p> + +<p>The projector gave him a good-sized wall image to consider. He spent +most of the night calculating where he could place tiny +self-activators in the "obsolescent" robots that were to be donated by +his plant. Then he set up the instruction tapes to make the miniature +contacts. Production then would be a simple job, only taking a few +minutes, and during a working day there were always many periods +longer than that when he was alone on the production floor.</p> + +<p>But thinking the matter out without computers was much more difficult. +Human beings ordinarily filled their time on a lower abstracting +level.</p> + +<p>When he unlocked the study door in the morning he was startled to see +Marie bustling down the corridor, pushing the food service cart +herself. That did not make sense, especially considering last night's +statement about Eric.</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd want breakfast early," she coughed.</p> + +<p>"You didn't have to bother, honey. Eric could have done it."</p> + +<p>If she had been prying, the cart might have been a prop to take up as +soon as he came out. On the other hand, what could she in her +technical ignorance make of such matters anyway?</p> + +<p>It was best not to rouse any deeper suspicions by openly noticing her +wifely nosiness. At breakfast they pretended nothing had happened, +devoting the time to mutually disapproved cousins, but all day long he +kept wondering whether ignorant knowledge couldn't be as dangerous as +the knowing kind.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>he next morning, after a long sleep, he went to the factory for the +first of his semi-weekly work periods.</p> + +<p>He sat before a huge console, surveying scores of dials, at the end of +a machine that was over five hundred yards long. Today it was turning +out glass paper the color of watered blood, made only for Ritual +publications, packing it in sheets and dispatching them in automatic +trucks; but the machine could be adjusted to everything from metal +sheeting to plastic felts. At the far end sat another man, diminished +by distance, busily tending more dials that could really take care of +themselves.</p> + +<p>After a while the man went out for a break. Hart ran a hundred yards +to a section that was not working. He snapped it into the alloy supply +and fed in the tape. In a minute, several dozen tiny contacts came +down a chute. He pocketed them and disconnected the section just +before his fellow worker reappeared.</p> + +<p>The man walked down the floor to him, looking curious.</p> + +<p>"Anything the matter?" he asked, hopeful for some break in routine.</p> + +<p>"No, just felt like a walk."</p> + +<p>"Know what you mean—I feel restless too. Too bad this plant's only +two years old. Boy, wouldn't she make a great disintegration!" He +grinned, slapping a fender affectionately.</p> + +<p>Hart joined in the joke. "Gives us something to look forward to in ten +years."</p> + +<p>"A good way to look at things," said the other man.</p> + +<p>At home he locked the contacts in a desk drawer. Tomorrow he would +deliver most of them to Burnett's apartment.</p> + +<p>But the next morning an emergency letter came from his group leader, +warning him not to appear there. <i>I am going completely underground. I +think they may suspect my activities. The dispersion plan must go into +effect. You know how to reach Johnson and Wright and they each in turn +can get to two others. Good luck!</i></p> + +<p>He had just put the letter in his pocket when Eric announced the +arrival of a Rituals Inspector.</p> + +<p>The man had nervous close-set eyes and seemed embarrassed by his need +to make such a visit. Hart took the offensive as his best defense. "I +don't understand this, Inspector," he protested. "You people should +be busy with High Holy preparations. Are you losing your taste for +work?"</p> + +<p>"Now, now, Mr. Hart, that's a very unkind remark. I dislike this +nonsense as much as anyone." His square jaw chewed into each word as +he opened his scanning box. "It's the anti-social sabotage."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say I am under suspicion?" Marie was now loitering in +the doorway, worse luck.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no. Nothing so insulting. This is strictly impersonal. The +Scanning Center has picked apartments at complete random and we're to +make spot checks."</p> + +<p>The eye at one end of the box blinked wickedly, waiting for an +information feed. "Now, sir, if you'll pardon me, I'll just take the +records from one of those desk drawers—any drawer—and put them in +the box." Hart slid open a drawer. "No, sir, I think I'll try the next +one. It's regulation not to accept suggestions."</p> + +<p>With a hand made deft by practise he scooped out all the sheets and +tapes and put them in the box. The scanner's fingers rapidly sorted +them past the eye. Hart exhaled, relieved that an innocuous drawer had +been selected, and the inspector handed back the material to him. +"Well, Inspector, that's that."</p> + +<p>"Not quite." The Inspector selected another drawer at the other end of +the desk and dumped everything before the scanner. His examination was +speeding up and that was not good; he would have time to take more +sample readings.</p> + +<p>"Now if you'll empty your left pocket—"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft1"><img src="images/image_o1.jpg" alt="O" width="74" height="50" /></div> +<p>h, this is too much!" Marie exploded. "My husband struggles all +night on secret work, studying to find ways to stop the anti-socials, +and you treat him like one of them!"</p> + +<p>"You're working on the problem?" the Inspector said respectfully. +"What are you doing?"</p> + +<p>Frying pan to fire. Hart preferred the pan and pulled open a drawer. +"It's too complicated, too much time needed to explain!"</p> + +<p>The Inspector glanced at his watch. "I'm falling behind schedule." He +closed up his box. "Sorry, but I have to leave. Heavy time sheet +today."</p> + +<p>As soon as he was gone, Hart breathed easier. Nothing incriminating +would be fed into the Central Scanner.</p> + +<p>Marie became apologetic. "I'm sorry I said it, Wendell, but I couldn't +keep quiet. All I did last night was peek in once or twice."</p> + +<p>He shrugged. "I'm just on a minor project."</p> + +<p>"Every bit counts." She shook her head. "Only you have to wonder—I +mean, don't think I'm treasoning, but while I was shopping an hour ago +a lot of women said you have to think—how come all that obsolescent +junk could work so well, after being thoroughly wrecked, too? You +almost wonder whether some of it was too good for disintegration."</p> + +<p>Wendell pretended to be shocked. "Just a fluke of circumstance. If +something like that happened again you'd be right to wonder. But it +could not ever happen again."</p> + +<p>"Don't get me wrong, Wendell. None of the women attacked anything. It +was more like what you just said. They said if it happened again, then +you'd have to wonder. But of course it couldn't happen again."</p> + +<p>How well the tables had turned! Not only had Marie's ignorant +knowledge proven helpful but she had now given him a positive idea +also.</p> + +<p>When he met Wright and Johnson at the latter's apartment that evening +he explained it to them. "We can propagate 'dangerous' thoughts and +yet appear completely loyal. We can set up the reaction to next High +Holy Day."</p> + +<p>"How?" demanded Johnson. "That's having your cake and eating it."</p> + +<p>"Nothing's impossible in the human mind," Wright said. "Let's +listen."</p> + +<p>"Here's the point. Wherever you go there will be people tsk-tsking +about the Preliminary fiasco. Just reassure them, say it meant nothing +at all by itself. If it ever happened again, then there would be room +for doubt but, of course, <i>it could not happen again</i>!"</p> + +<p>Wright smiled. "That's almost feminine in its subtlety."</p> + +<p>He smiled back. "My wife inspired it. Don't get nervous—it was +unconscious, sheerly by accident."</p> + +<p>"Whatever the cause, it's the perfect result," Johnson conceded. +"We'll spread it through the net."</p> + +<p>"Along with this, I hope." Wendell dumped the contacts on a table top. +"It's the smallest size possible. A lot should get by unnoticed. Find +cell members who can set up cryotrons with a wide range of +instructions to cope with anything in the piles. Some weirdly alive +concoctions of 'obsolescent' parts ought to result."</p> + +<p>"Some day the world's going to know what you've done for it," said +Johnson solemnly.</p> + +<p>"That could happen too soon!" Miss Wright's face, honest and open in +its horse-like length, broke into a wide grin.</p> + +<p>"Amen," said Hart, adding the private hope that Marie, blessed with +superior looks, might be able to show as much superior wisdom some +day.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>he hope was not immediately fulfilled. When he reached home Marie was +in a tizzy of excitement. "You're just in time, darling. They just +caught three subversives. One of them was a woman," she added as this +were compounding an improbability with an impossibility. "They're +going to show them."</p> + +<p>He gripped his belt tightly. "A woman?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. There she is now."</p> + +<p>A uniformed officer was gently helping a pale little old woman sit +down before the camera, as if she were more an object of pity than of +fear. Hart relaxed.</p> + +<p>"—caught red-handed with the incriminating papers," shouted an +offstage announcer. "Handbills asserting objects declared obsolescent +could actually last indefinitely!"</p> + +<p>"What do you have to say for yourself?" the officer asked gently. "You +must realize, of course, that such irreligious behavior precludes your +moving in general society for a long time to come."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what came over me," she sobbed in a tired voice. +"Curiosity. Yes, curiosity, that's what it was. I saw these sheets of +paper in the street and they said we should stop working so hard at +compulsory tasks and start working to expand our own interests and +personalities."</p> + +<p>"Self-contradictory nonsense!" said the voice.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know that. But it made me curious and I took it home to read, +and it said our compulsory tasks were artificially manufactured and, +if you didn't believe that, look at the pile that reactivated itself +the other day." She stopped, reorganizing her thoughts. "Of course, +though, that thing in the Plaza was unique, you know. I don't think it +could mean a thing ... unless it happened a few times. And the fact is +it won't ever happen again."</p> + +<p>"Well, that much makes very good sense," said Marie. "You said the +same thing, Wendell. I don't think that poor woman knew what she was +doing—just a dupe for subversive propaganda."</p> + +<p>"—a dupe for subversive propaganda," the announcer was saying.</p> + +<p>"See, exactly what I said."</p> + +<p>"Yes, dear."</p> + +<p>How swiftly the decentralized underground was working! Hart could not +tell whether the old woman was an active member or just a passive +responder, but it did not matter. She was now spreading the seeds for +future doubt across the land.</p> + +<p>Two old men were brought in and they mumbled the same disconnected +story as their sister.</p> + +<p>"We have intensively interrogated these prisoners," boomed the +announcer, "and know there is nothing more to the rumored anti-social +plot than this stupid chatter. Remain vigilant and you have nothing to +fear!"</p> + +<p>"You are sentenced to five years isolation from general society," said +the officer, in a voice dulcet enough to sell advance orders for +replacement products that had not yet been made. "Our intention is to +protect you from bad influences. Our hope is that others will take +your lesson to heart."</p> + +<p>"God bless you," said the woman and her brothers joined in effusive +thanks.</p> + +<p>"Makes you proud to be a human being," Marie said. "I was getting some +stupid doubts myself, dear. I must admit it. But that's all past. I +can hardly wait for the Highest Holy Day."</p> + +<p>"Neither can I," sighed her husband.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>he next day at noon Eric came to him, functioning on the final set of +servo instructions that had been installed in him at the factory of +his birth eight years before. He shook hands with the two of them and +said: "Now I am prepared for death."</p> + +<p>Marie was tearful. "I will miss you, Eric. If you were only under five +years old your span could be extended."</p> + +<p>"Everything that happens is right," Eric said impassively.</p> + +<p>He clambered on to the operation table, instinctively knowing which +flat surface was for him, and, breaking all his major circuits, gave +up the ghost that only man could restore to him.</p> + +<p>Hart found his wife's grief easy to bear. The day after tomorrow she +would join in the general exultation of High Holy Day, with Eric well +forgotten. He methodically began smashing the surface of the limbs and +torso; the greater the visible damage, the greater the honor +redounding to the sacrifice donor. "This will be our gift to the +general pile," he said.</p> + +<p>"I thought we could keep him for our garden sacrifice," Marie +protested meekly. "Most people do."</p> + +<p>"But the other way is the greater sacrifice."</p> + +<p>There was no reply, because she knew he spoke for the deeper, more +moving custom. But suddenly he began to act depressed himself. "I know +we say it every ten years, but Eric was really the best companion we +ever had." He gestured toward the table. "I want to sit here with him +for a while—alone."</p> + +<p>"That's carrying things too far, Wendell. A little grief is +proper—but this much is actually morbid."</p> + +<p>"It's all within my rights."</p> + +<p>She tossed her head petulantly. "Well, I've done my share. I can't +stand any more. It makes a person think and get depressed. I don't +care what you're going to do. I'm going out to enjoy a Preliminary."</p> + +<p>"Can't blame you for that," he nodded.</p> + +<p>When she had gone he started to work on new instruction tapes for +activating the servo-cryotron. Nothing could be surrendered to chance. +Every possible circumstance in the pile had to be anticipated. There +had to be instructions for action if Eric was crushed below fifty feet +of metal, for assembling any kind of scrambled wiring, for adapting +all types of parts in its immediate surroundings, for using these +parts to absorb parts further away and for timing the operation to the +start of the Highest Rite.</p> + +<p>Some tapes had been prepared earlier, so it was possible to put +everything in the cryotron box before Marie returned, as well as to +attach the tiny contact that would reach out from the box until it +reached its first external scrap of wire or metal.</p> + +<p>"You poor darling," she pouted. "You missed the most wonderful thing! +They demolished a whole thirty-story building!"</p> + +<p>His blood, atavistically effected, pulsed faster until his new creed +came to grips with his old emotions. "They usually don't bother with +buildings for the Rites."</p> + +<p>"I know—that's what was so wonderful! The State has decided to make +this one the biggest Day of all time. We'll have enough work to fill +the whole ten years! Everybody was so happy."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure they were." He caught himself in mid-sarcasm and said, "I'm +sorry I missed it."</p> + +<p>"And I'm sorry I've been so selfishly self-centered." She frowned. "I +forgot about it, but there were people in the crowd boasting they had +been assigned to fight anti-social movements. I had to boast back that +my husband had been honored too."</p> + +<p>He tensed. "Oh? What did they say to that?"</p> + +<p>"Frankly, they laughed."</p> + +<p>"I should think so. The Central Scanner didn't pick up anything except +a lot of ineffective propaganda. The sabotage business was all +hysteria."</p> + +<p>"That's just what they said—the assignments were an empty honor." She +coldly considered Eric. "I want to wreck him too."</p> + +<p>"I've smashed the insides," he said. "You'd better just work the +surface."</p> + +<p>"That's all I want to do," she answered, starting to scratch +traditional marks all over the dead robot. It gave her a full +afternoon of happy, busy labor.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_t.jpg" alt="T" width="55" height="50" /></div> +<p>he next day a large open truck came around and the street echoed to +the appeal for contributions. Festival spirit was running high +everywhere and when the neighborhood crowd saw the young robot porters +carry Eric out there was a loud cheer of appreciation.</p> + +<p>"My husband decided on a major contribution right away," Marie +announced to them.</p> + +<p>"It's the least we could do," he said modestly.</p> + +<p>Many onlookers, swept away by their example, rushed indoors to bring +out additional items of sacrifice. But only two others gave up their +robots. The rest clung to them for private Holy Night ceremonies. Soon +Eric disappeared under the renewed deluge of egg-beaters and washers.</p> + +<p>"The best collection I have seen today," said the inspector +accompanying the truck. "You people are to be congratulated for your +exceptional patriotism."</p> + +<p>"Destroy!" they shouted back joyously. "Make work!"</p> + +<p>At dawn the Central Plaza was already crowded and new hordes kept +pouring in from outlying areas. Wendell and his wife had been among +the first to arrive. They waited, impatient in their separate ways, on +the borderline five hundred yards from the ten-story pyre.</p> + +<p>Martial music roared from loudspeakers, interrupted by the +mellifluous boom of a merchandising announcer: "New product! Better +models! One hundred years of High Holy Days! New! New! NEW!"</p> + +<p>"Destroy!" came the returning shout. "Make work! Work! Work!"</p> + +<p>All the sounds echoed back and forth until baffled away by the open +area across the Plaza, where one large structure had already been +destroyed. Three others were slated for collapse today.</p> + +<p>"The biggest Holy Day ever," a restless old woman said to Marie. "I've +seen all nine of them."</p> + +<p>"Eric's in there," Marie chatted back, superficially sad, deeply +happy.</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"Our house robot."</p> + +<p>"Imagine that! Did you hear that?" People gathered round them and +cheered. The good-natured jostling continued until someone said: "Five +minutes to go!"</p> + +<p>Wendell checked his watch. Somewhere in the pile at least one element +was coming to life, a metal arm reaching out for brother metal to +engulf in its cybernetic sweep.</p> + +<p>"They're coming!" A line of six shiny new slaggers came rumbling into +the open with military precision. They moved along slowly, prolonging +the pleasures of anticipation, then broke rank, each seeking its +assigned point around the pile of appliances gathered for +destruction.</p> + +<p>"The latest improved models," said the loudspeakers. "They will first +perform fifteen minutes of automatic maneuvers." The military music +resumed and each slagger turned, as if circling a coin, in clanking +rhythm to it.</p> + +<p>"The three hundred and sixty degree turn. Next, making a box on the +Plaza floor...."</p> + +<p>The voice stopped, appalled.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<div class="figleft"><img src="images/image_a.jpg" alt="A" width="51" height="50" /></div> +<p>n avalanche of metal slid down one side of the pile and the crowd +gasped. The downward movement viscously slowed; then the metal, +suddenly alive with the capacity to defy gravity, circled upward. +Jagged limbs started flailing about.</p> + +<p>"Disintegrator attack!" screamed the loudspeakers. "Attack!"</p> + +<p>The maneuvers stopped. For one brief moment prior to changeover the +Plaza was dead still, except for the deafening rumble in the pile. The +slaggers broke the spell, rushing full speed toward the pile, +evaporator beams working.</p> + +<p>One by one they faltered and were sucked into the destructive pyre.</p> + +<p>The crowd fell further back. The whole pile came alive like a mineral +octopus. Then the squirming thing collapsed, every makeshift circuit +irreparably broken and dead. Everything had been happening too fast +for any pronounced reaction to accompany it; but now the world went +crazy.</p> + +<p>"Stand firm!" pleaded the loudspeakers. "We will get reinforcements as +soon as celebrations are finished elsewhere."</p> + +<p>A barrage of enormous boos came from the disintegrating mob. "Never +again! Fakes! It's finished, done for!"</p> + +<p>"Stand firm!"</p> + +<p>But the breakup down side avenues continued. "I don't understand," +Marie shuddered. "Everything's crazy. We've been deceived, Wendell. +Who's been deceiving us?"</p> + +<p>"Nobody—unless it's ourselves."</p> + +<p>"I don't understand that either." Saucer-eyed she watched a great +clump of disgruntled people push past. "I <i>have</i> to think!"</p> + +<p>Suddenly, as they came around a corner, they were facing Burnett.</p> + +<p>Hart tried to disregard him but the group leader would have none of +that. He rushed up to Hart. "Good to see a friendly face. Shocking +developments!" His face was grim, but tiny wrinkles at the corners of +his eyes betrayed an amusement that could only be discovered by those +who looked for it.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Burnett," he explained to Marie. "A librarian at the main +building. Mr. Burnett, my wife Marie."</p> + +<p>"I am most happy to meet you, Mrs. Hart. Have you heard the latest?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Burnett."</p> + +<p>"The same things have been happening <i>everywhere</i>! They announced it +on the radio and they're saying it's due to anti-social elements. +Shocking!"</p> + +<p>She shook her head stubbornly. "I don't know what to think. Maybe we +shouldn't be shocked, maybe we should be. I just don't know, Mr. +Burnett. I came to enjoy myself and look how it's ended." She bravely +held back a sob, "Maybe we'd have been better off if we've never heard +about High Holy Days!"</p> + +<p>Burnett looked about with feigned apprehension. "You have to be careful +what you say. The government says there's even talk—subversive +handbills—about trying to rehabilitate some of the stuff in the piles."</p> + +<p>"The government ought to keep quiet!" she exploded. "They said this +couldn't happen. You can't believe anything they say any more. The +<i>people</i> decide and the government will have to listen, that's what I +say! And I'm a pretty typical person, not one of your intellectual +kind. No criticism of present company intended."</p> + +<p>"None taken, Mrs. Hart. Our human future," said Burnett, exchanging a +grin with his aide, "remains, as it always has really been. +Interesting—to say the least!"</p> + +<h3>END</h3> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Junkmakers, by Albert R. 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Teichner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Junkmakers + +Author: Albert R. Teichner + +Illustrator: West + +Release Date: January 16, 2010 [EBook #30988] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE JUNKMAKERS *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Robert Cicconetti, and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from If: Worlds of Science Fiction July 1961. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + + THE JUNKMAKERS + + + BY ALBERT TEICHNER + + + ERIC WAS THE BEST ROBOT THEY'D EVER HAD--PERFECTLY TRAINED, + EVER THOUGHTFUL, A JOY TO OWN. NATURALLY THEY HAD TO DESTROY + HIM! + + * * * * * + + + + +I + +Wendell Hart had drifted, rather than plunged, into the underground +movement. Later, discussing it with other members of the Savers' +Conspiracy, he found they had experienced the same slow, almost casual +awakening. His own, though, had come at a more appropriate time, just +a few weeks before the Great Ritual Sacrifice. + +The Sacrifice took place only once a decade, on High Holy Day at dawn +of the spring equinox. For days prior to it joyous throngs of workers +helped assemble old vehicles, machine tools and computers in the +public squares, crowning each pile with used, disconnected robots. In +the evening of the Day they proudly made their private heaps on the +neat green lawns of their homes. These traditionally consisted of +household utensils, electric heaters, air conditioners and the family +servant. + +The wealthiest--considered particularly blessed--even had two or three +automatic servants beyond the public contribution, which they +destroyed in private. Their more average neighbors crowded into their +gardens for the awesome festivities. The next morning everyone could +return to work, renewed by the knowledge that the Festival of Acute +Shortages would be with them for months. + +Like everyone else, Wendell had felt his sluggish pulse gaining new +life as the time drew nearer. + +A cybernetics engineer and machine tender, he was down to ten hours a +week of work. Many others in the luxury-gorged economy had even +smaller shares of the purposeful activities that remained. At night he +dreamed of the slagger moving from house to house as it burned, melted +and then evaporated each group of junked labor-blocking devices. He +even had glorious daydreams about it. Walking down the park side of +his home block, he was liable to lose all contact with the outside +world and peer through the mind's eye alone at the climactic +destruction. + +Why, he sometimes wondered, are all these things so necessary to our +resurrection? + +Marie had the right answer for him, the one she had learned by rote in +early childhood: "All life moves in cycles. Creation and progress +must be preceded by destruction. In ancient times that meant we had to +destroy each other; but for the past century our inherent need for +negative moments has been sublimated--that's the word the news +broadcasts use--into proper destruction." His wife smiled. "I'm only +giving the moral reason, of course. The practical one's obvious." + +Obvious it was, he had to concede. Men needed to work, not out of +economic necessity any more but for the sake of work itself. Still a +man had to wonder.... + + * * * * * + +He had begun to visit the Public Library Archives, poring over musty +references that always led to maddeningly frustrating dead ends. For +the past century nothing really informative seemed to have been +written on the subject. + +"You must have government authorization," the librarian explained when +he asked for older references. Which, naturally, made him add a little +suspicion to his already large dose of wonder. + +"You're tampering with something dangerous," Marie warned. "It would +make more sense for you to take long-sleep pills until the work cycle +picks up." + +"I _will_ get to see those early references," he said through clenched +teeth. + +He did. + +All he had needed to say at the library was that his work in sociology +required investigation of some twentieth century files. The librarian, +a tall, gaunt man, had given him a speculative glance. "Of course, you +don't have government clearance.... But we get so few inquiries in +sociology that I'm willing to offer a little encouragement." He +sighed. "Don't get many inquiries altogether. Most people just can't +stand reading. You might be interested to know this--one of the best +headings to research in sociology is _Conspicuous consumption_." + +Then it was Wendell's turn to glance speculatively. The older man, +around a healthy hundred and twenty-five, had a look of earnest +dedication about him that commanded respect as well as confidence. + +"Conspicuous consumption? An odd combination of words. Never heard of +that before. I will look it up." + +The librarian was nervous as he led his visitor into a reference +booth. "That's about all the help I can offer. If anything comes up, +just ring for me. Burnett's the name. Uh--you won't mention I put you +on the file without authorization, I hope." + +"Certainly not." + +As soon as he was alone he typed _Conspicuous consumption_ into the +query machine. + +It started grinding out long bibliographical sheets as well as +cross-references to _Obsolescence, Natural_; _Obsolescence, +Technological_; _Obsolescence, Planned_, plus even odder items such as +_Waste-making, Art of_ and _Production, Stimulated velocity of_. How +did such disparate subjects tie in with each other? + + * * * * * + +By the end of the afternoon he began to see, if only dimly, to what +the unending stream of words on the viewer pointed. + +For centuries ruling classes had made a habit of conspicuously wasting +goods and services that were necessities for the mass of men. It was +the final and highest symbol of social power. By the time of Louis XIV +the phenomenon had reached its first peak. The second came in the +twentieth century when mass production permitted millions to devote +their lives to the acquisition and waste of non-essentials. Hart's +twenty-second century sensibilities were repelled by the examples +given. He shuddered at the thought of such anti-social behavior. + +But a parallel development was more appealingly positive in its +implications. As the technological revolution speeded up, devices were +superseded as soon as produced. The whole last half of the 1900's was +filled with instances where the drawing board kept outstripping the +assembly line. + +Hart remembered this last change from early school days but the later, +final development was completely new and shocking to him. Advertising +had pressured more and more people to replace goods _before_ they wore +out with other goods that were, essentially, no improvement on their +predecessors! Eventually just the word "NEW" was enough to trigger +buying panics. + +There had been growing awareness of what was happening, even sporadic +resistance to it by such varied ideologies as Conservative Thrift, +Asocial Beatnikism and Radical Inquiry. But, strangely enough, very +few people had cared. Indeed, anything that diminished consumption was +viewed as dangerously subversive. + +"And rightly so!" was his first, instinctive reaction. His second, +reasoned one, though, was less certain. + +The contradiction started to give him a headache. He hurried from the +scanning room, overtaxed eyes blinking at the rediscovery of daylight. + +Burnett walked him to the door. "Not feeling well?" he inquired. + +"I'll be all right. I just need a few days real work." He stopped. +"No, that's not why. I'm confused. I've been reading crazy things +about obsolescence. They used to have strange reasons for it. Why, +some people even said replacements were not always improvements and +were unnecessary!" + +Burnett could not completely hide his pleasure. "You've been getting +into rather deep stuff." + +"Deep--or nonsensical!" + +"True. True. Come back tomorrow and read some more." + +"Maybe I will." But he was happy to get away from the library +building. + +Marie was horrified when he told her that evening about his studies. +"Don't go back there," she pleaded. "It's dangerous. It's subversive! +How could people say such awful things? You remember that Mr. Johnson +around the corner? He seemed such a nice man, too, until they arrested +him without giving a reason ... and how messed up he was when he got +out last year. I'll bet that kind of talk explains the whole thing. +It's crazy. Everyone knows items start wearing out and they have to be +replaced." + +"I realise that, honey, but it's interesting to speculate. Don't we +have guaranteed freedom of thought?" + +She threw up her hands as if dealing with a child. "Naturally we have +freedom of thought. But you should have the right thoughts, shouldn't +you? Wendell, promise me you won't go back to that library." + +"Well--" + +"Reading's a very risky thing anyway." Her eyes were saucer-round +with fright. "Please, darling. Promise." + +"Sure, you're right, honey. I promise." + + * * * * * + +He meant it when he said it. But that night, tossing from side to +side, he felt less certain. In the morning, as he went out, Marie +asked him where he was going. + +"I want to observe the preparations for the Preliminary Rites." + +"Now that," she grinned, "is what I call _healthy_ thinking." + +For a while he did stand around the Central Plaza along with thousands +of other idlers, watching the robot dump trucks assemble the piles of +discarded equipment. The crowd cheered loudly as an enormous crane was +knocked over on its side. + +"There's fifty millions worth out there!" a bystander exulted. "It's +going to be the biggest Preliminary I've ever seen." + +"It certainly will be!" he said, catching a little of the other man's +enthusiasm despite his previous doubts. + +Preliminary Rites were part of the emotion-stoking that preceded the +Highest Holy Day. Each Rite was greater and more destructive than +those that had gone before. As tokens of happy loyalty, viewers threw +hats and watches and stickpins onto the pile just prior to the entry +of the slaggers. What better way could be found for each man to +manifest his common humanity? + +After a while doubt started assailing him again, and Hart found +himself returning almost against his will to the Library Building. +Burnett greeted him cordially. "To-day's visit is completely legal," +he said. "Anyone doing olden time research is automatically authorized +if he has been here before." + +"I hope my thought can be as legal," Hart blurted out. "Well--that was +just a joke." + +"Oh, I can recognize a joke when I hear one, my friend." + +Hart went to his booth, feeling the man's eyes measuring him more +intently than ever. It was almost a welcome relief to start reading +the reference scanner once more. + +But not for long. As the wider pattern unfolded, his anxiety state +intensified. + +It was becoming perfectly obvious that many, many replacements used to +be made long before they were needed. And it was still true. _I should +not be thinking such thoughts_, he told himself, _I should be outside +in the Plaza, being normal and human_. + +But he could see how it had come about, step by step. First there had +been pressure from the ruling echelons, many of whose members only +maintained their status through excessive production. Then, much more +important, there had been the willful blindness of the masses who +wanted to keep their cozy, familiar treadmills going. + +He slammed down the _off_ button and went out to the librarian's desk. +"Do people want to work all the time," he said, "for the sake of work +alone?" + +He immediately regretted the question. But Burnett did not seem to +mind. "You've only stated the positive reason, Mr. Hart. The negative +one could be stronger--the fear of what they would have to do if they +did not have to work much over a long period." + +"What would it mean?" + +"Why, they would have to start thinking! Most people don't mind +thought if it's concentrated in a narrow range. But if they have to +think in a broad range to keep boredom away--no, that's too high a +price for most of them! They avoid it when they can. And under present +circumstances they can." He stopped. "Of course that's a purely +hypothetical fiction I'm constructing." + +Hart shook his head. "It sounds awfully real to be purely--" He, too, +caught himself up. "Of course, you're only positing a fiction." + +Burnett started putting his desk papers away. "I'm leaving now. The +Preliminary begins soon. Want to come?" + +The man's face was stolidly blank except for his brown eyes which +burned like a zealot's. Fascinated by them, Hart agreed. It would be +best to return anyway. Some of the bystanders had looked too curiously +at him when he had left. Who would willingly leave a Rite when it was +approaching its climax? + + +II + +The Plaza was now thronged and the sacrificial pile towered over a +hundred feet in the cleared center area. Then, as the first collective +_Ah!_ arose, a giant slagger lumbered in from the east, the direction +prescribed for such commencements. Long polarity arms glided smoothly +out of the central mechanism and reached the length for Total +Destruction. + +"That's the automatic setting," parents explained to their children. + +"When?" the children demanded eagerly. + +"Any moment now." + +Then the unforeseen occurred. + +There was a rumbling from inside the pile and a huge jagged patchwork +of metal shot out, smashing both arms. The slagger teetered, swaying +more and more violently from side to side until it collapsed on its +side. The rumbling grew. And then the pile, like a mechanical cancer, +ripped the slagger apart and then absorbed it. + +The panicking crowd fell back. Somewhere a child began crying, +provoking more hubbub. "Sabotage!" people were crying. "Let's get +away!" + +Nothing like this had ever happened before. But Hart knew instantly +what had caused it. Some high-level servo mechanisms had not been +thoroughly disconnected. They had repaired their damages, then imposed +their patterns on the material at hand. + +A second slagger came rushing into the square. It discharged +immediately; and the pile finally collapsed and disintegrated as it +was supposed to. + +The crowd was too shocked to feel the triumph it had come for, but +Hart could not share their horror. Burnett eyed him. "Better look +indignant," he said. "They'll be out for blood. Somebody must have +sabotaged the setup." + +"Catch the culprits!" he shouted, joining the crowd around him. "Stop +anti-social acts!" + +"Stop anti-social acts!" roared Burnett; and, in a whisper: "Hart, +let's get out of here." + +As they pushed their way through the milling crowd, a loudspeaker boomed +out: "Return home in peace. The instincts of the people are good. Healthy +destruction forever! The criminals will be tracked down ... if they +exist." + +"A terrible thing, friend," a woman said to them. + +"Terrible, friend," Burnett agreed. "Smash the anti-social elements +without mercy!" + +Three children were clustered together, crying. "I wanted to set the +right example for them," said the father to anyone who would listen. +"They'll _never_ get over this!" + +Hart tried to console them. "Next week is High Holy Day," he said, but +the bawling only increased. + +The two men finally reached a side avenue where the crowd was thinner. +"Come with me," Burnett ordered, "I want you to meet some people." + + * * * * * + +He sounded as if he were instituting military discipline but Hart, +still dazed, willingly followed. "It wasn't such a terrible thing," he +said, listening to the distant uproar. "Why don't they shut up!" + +"They will--eventually." Burnett marched straight ahead and looked +fixedly in the same direction. + +"The thing could have gobbled up the city if there hadn't been a +second slagger!" said a lone passerby. + +"Nonsense," Burnett muttered under his breath. "You know that, Hart. +Any self-regulating mechanism reaches a check limit sooner than that." + +"It has to." + +They turned into a large building and went up to the fiftieth floor. +"My apartment," said Burnett as he opened the door. + +There were about fifteen people in the large living room. They rose, +smiling, to greet their host. "Let's save the self-congratulations for +later," snapped Burnett. "These were merely our own preliminaries. +We're not out of the woods yet. This, ladies and gentlemen, is our +newest recruit. He has seen the light. I have fed him basic data and +I'm sure we're not making a mistake with him." + +Hart was about to demand what was going on when a short man with eyes +as intense as Burnett's proposed a toast to "the fiasco in the Plaza." +Everyone joined in and he did not have to ask. + +"Burnett, I don't quite understand why I am here but aren't you taking +a chance with me?" + +"Not at all. I've followed your reactions since your first visit to +the library. Others here have also--when you were completely unaware +of being observed. The gradual shift in viewpoint is familiar to us. +We've all been through it. The really important point is that you no +longer like the kind of world into which you were born." + +"That's true, but no one can change it." + +"We _are_ changing it," said a thin-faced young woman. "I work in a +servo lab and--." + +"Miss Wright, time enough for that later," interrupted Burnett. "What +we must know now, Mr. Hart, is how much you're willing to do for your +new-found convictions? It will be more work than you've ever dreamed +possible." + +He felt as exhilarated as he did in the months after High Holy Day. +"I'm down to under ten hours labor a week. I'd do anything for your +group if I could get more work." + +Burnett gave him a hearty handshake of congratulation ... but was +frowning as he did so. "You're doing the right thing--for the wrong +reason. Every member of this group could tell you why. Miss Wright, +since you feel like talking, explain the matter." + +"Certainly. Mr. Hart, we are engaged in an activity of so-called +subversion for a positive reason, not merely to avoid insufficient +work load. Your reason shows you are still being moved by the values +that you despise. We _want_ to cut the work-production load on people. +We want them to _face_ the problem of leisure, not flee it." + +"There's a heart-warming paradox here," Burnett explained. "Every +excess eventually undermines itself. Everybody in the movement starts +by wanting to act for their beliefs because work appears so attractive +for its own sake. I was that way, too, until I studied the dead art +of philosophy." + +"Well--" Hart sat down, deeply troubled. "Look, I deplore destroying +equipment that is still perfectly useful as much as any of you do. But +there _is_ a problem. If the destruction were stopped there would be +so much leisure people would rot from boredom." + + * * * * * + +Burnett pounced eagerly on the argument. "Instead they're rotting from +artificial work. Boredom is a temporary, if recurring phenomenon of +living, not a permanent one. If most men face the difficulty of empty +time long enough they find new problems with which to fill that time. +That's where philosophy showed me the way. None of its fundamental +mysteries can ever be solved but, as you pit yourself against them, +your experience and capacity for being alive grows." + +"Very nice," Hart grinned, "wanting all men to be philosophers. They +never have been." + +"You shouldn't have brought him here," growled the short man. "He's +not one of us. Now we have a real mess." + +"Johnson, I'm leader of this group!" Burnett exploded. "Credit me with +a little understanding. All right, Hart, what you say is true. But +why? Because most men have always worked too hard to achieve the +fruits of curiosity." + +"I hate to keep being a spoil-sport, but what does that prove? _Some_ +men who had to work as hard as the rest have been interested in things +beyond the end of their nose." + +They all groaned their disapproval. + +"A good point, Hart, but it doesn't prove what you think. It just +shows that a minority enjoy innate capacities and environmental +variations that make the transition to philosopher easier." + +"And _you_ haven't proven anything about the incurious majority." + +"This does, though: whenever there was a favorable period the majority +who could, as you put it, see beyond the ends of their noses +increased. Our era is just the opposite. We are trapped in a vicious +circle. Those noses are usually so close to the grindstone that men +are afraid to raise their heads. We are breaking that circle!" + +"It's a terribly important thing to aim for, Burnett, but--" He +brought up another doubt and somebody else answered it immediately. + +For the next half hour, as one uncertainty was expressed after +another, everybody joined in the answers until inexorable logic forced +his surrender. + +"All right," he conceded, "I will do anything I can--not to make work +for myself, but to help mankind rise above it." + + * * * * * + +Except for a brief, triumphant glance in Johnson's direction, Burnett +gave no further attention to what had happened and plunged immediately +into practical matters. + +To halt the blind worship of work, the Rites had first to be +discredited. And to discredit the Rites, the awe inspired by their +infallible performance had to be weakened. The sabotage of the +Preliminary had been the first local step in that direction. There had +been a few similar, if smaller, episodes, executed by other groups, +but they had received as little publicity as possible. + +"Johnson, you pulled one so big this time that they can't hide it. +Twenty thousand witnesses! When it comes to getting things done you're +the best we have!" + +The little man grinned. "But you're the one who knows how to pick +recruits and organize our concepts. This is how it worked. I re-fed +the emptied cryotron memory box of a robot discard with patterns to +deal with anything it was likely to encounter in a destruction pile. I +kept the absolute-freeze mechanism in working order, but developed a +shield that would hide its activity from the best pile detector." He +spread a large tissue schematic out on the floor and they all +gathered around it to study the details. "Now, the important thing was +to have an external element that could resume contact with a wider +circuit, which could in turn start meshing with the whole robot +mechanism and then through that mechanism into the pile. This little +lever made the contact at a pre-fed time." + +Miss Wright was enthusiastic. "That contact is half the size of any +I've been able to make. It's crucially important," she added to Hart. +"A large contact can look suspicious." + +While others took miniphotos of the schematic, Hart studied the +contact carefully. "I think I can reduce its size by another fifty per +cent. Alloys are one of my specialties--when I get a chance to work at +them." + +"That would be ideal," said Burnett. "Then we could set up many more +discarded robots without risk. How long will it take?" + +"I can rough it out right now." He scribbled down the necessary +formulas and everyone photographed that too. + +[Illustration] + +"Maximum security is now in effect," announced Burnett. "You will +destroy your copies as soon as you have transferred them to edible +base copies. At the first hint of danger you will consume them. Use +home enlargers for study. In no case are you to make permanent +blowups that would be difficult to destroy quickly." He considered +them sternly. "Remember, you are running a great risk. You're not only +opposing the will of the state but the present will of the vast +majority of citizens." + +"If there are as many other underground groups as you indicate," said +Hart, "they should have this information." + +"We get it to them," answered Burnett. "I'm going on health leave from +my job." + +"And what will be your excuse?" Wright demanded anxiously. + +"Nervous shock," smiled their leader. "After all, I did see today's +events in the Plaza." + + * * * * * + +When Hart reached home his wife was waiting for him. "Why did you take +so long, Wendell. I was worried sick. The radio says anti-socials are +turning wild servos loose. How could human beings do such a thing?" + +"I was there. I saw it all happen." He frowned. "The crowd was so +dense I couldn't get away." + +"But what happened? The way the news was broadcast I couldn't +understand anything." + +He described the situation in great detail and awaited Marie's +reaction. It was even more encouraging than he had hoped for. "I +understand less than before! How could anything reactivate that +rubble? They put everything over five years old into the piles, and +the stuff's supposed to be decrepit already. You'd almost think we +were destroying wealth before its time, because if those disabled +mechanisms reactivate--" She came to a dead halt. "That's madness! Oh, +I wish High Holy Day were here already so I could get back to work and +stop this empty _thinking_!" + +Her honest face was more painfully distorted than he had ever seen it +before, even during the universal pre-Rite doldrums. "Only a few more +days to go," he consoled. "Don't worry, honey. Everything's going to +be all right. Now I'd like to be alone in the study for a while. I've +been through an exhausting time." + +"Aren't you going to eat?" + +The last word triggered the entry of Eric, the domestic robot, pushing +the dinner cart ahead of him. "No food to-night," Hart insisted. The +shining metal head nodded its assent and the cart was wheeled out. + +"That's not a very humane thing to do," she scolded. "Eric's not going +to be serving many more meals--" + +"Good grief, Marie, just leave me alone for a while, will you?" He +slammed the study door shut, warning himself to display less +nervousness in the future as he listened to her pacing outside. Then +she went away. + +The projector gave him a good-sized wall image to consider. He spent +most of the night calculating where he could place tiny +self-activators in the "obsolescent" robots that were to be donated by +his plant. Then he set up the instruction tapes to make the miniature +contacts. Production then would be a simple job, only taking a few +minutes, and during a working day there were always many periods +longer than that when he was alone on the production floor. + +But thinking the matter out without computers was much more difficult. +Human beings ordinarily filled their time on a lower abstracting +level. + +When he unlocked the study door in the morning he was startled to see +Marie bustling down the corridor, pushing the food service cart +herself. That did not make sense, especially considering last night's +statement about Eric. + +"I thought you'd want breakfast early," she coughed. + +"You didn't have to bother, honey. Eric could have done it." + +If she had been prying, the cart might have been a prop to take up as +soon as he came out. On the other hand, what could she in her +technical ignorance make of such matters anyway? + +It was best not to rouse any deeper suspicions by openly noticing her +wifely nosiness. At breakfast they pretended nothing had happened, +devoting the time to mutually disapproved cousins, but all day long he +kept wondering whether ignorant knowledge couldn't be as dangerous as +the knowing kind. + + * * * * * + +The next morning, after a long sleep, he went to the factory for the +first of his semi-weekly work periods. + +He sat before a huge console, surveying scores of dials, at the end of +a machine that was over five hundred yards long. Today it was turning +out glass paper the color of watered blood, made only for Ritual +publications, packing it in sheets and dispatching them in automatic +trucks; but the machine could be adjusted to everything from metal +sheeting to plastic felts. At the far end sat another man, diminished +by distance, busily tending more dials that could really take care of +themselves. + +After a while the man went out for a break. Hart ran a hundred yards +to a section that was not working. He snapped it into the alloy supply +and fed in the tape. In a minute, several dozen tiny contacts came +down a chute. He pocketed them and disconnected the section just +before his fellow worker reappeared. + +The man walked down the floor to him, looking curious. + +"Anything the matter?" he asked, hopeful for some break in routine. + +"No, just felt like a walk." + +"Know what you mean--I feel restless too. Too bad this plant's only +two years old. Boy, wouldn't she make a great disintegration!" He +grinned, slapping a fender affectionately. + +Hart joined in the joke. "Gives us something to look forward to in ten +years." + +"A good way to look at things," said the other man. + +At home he locked the contacts in a desk drawer. Tomorrow he would +deliver most of them to Burnett's apartment. + +But the next morning an emergency letter came from his group leader, +warning him not to appear there. _I am going completely underground. I +think they may suspect my activities. The dispersion plan must go into +effect. You know how to reach Johnson and Wright and they each in turn +can get to two others. Good luck!_ + +He had just put the letter in his pocket when Eric announced the +arrival of a Rituals Inspector. + +The man had nervous close-set eyes and seemed embarrassed by his need +to make such a visit. Hart took the offensive as his best defense. "I +don't understand this, Inspector," he protested. "You people should +be busy with High Holy preparations. Are you losing your taste for +work?" + +"Now, now, Mr. Hart, that's a very unkind remark. I dislike this +nonsense as much as anyone." His square jaw chewed into each word as +he opened his scanning box. "It's the anti-social sabotage." + +"Do you mean to say I am under suspicion?" Marie was now loitering in +the doorway, worse luck. + +"Oh, no. Nothing so insulting. This is strictly impersonal. The +Scanning Center has picked apartments at complete random and we're to +make spot checks." + +The eye at one end of the box blinked wickedly, waiting for an +information feed. "Now, sir, if you'll pardon me, I'll just take the +records from one of those desk drawers--any drawer--and put them in +the box." Hart slid open a drawer. "No, sir, I think I'll try the next +one. It's regulation not to accept suggestions." + +With a hand made deft by practise he scooped out all the sheets and +tapes and put them in the box. The scanner's fingers rapidly sorted +them past the eye. Hart exhaled, relieved that an innocuous drawer had +been selected, and the inspector handed back the material to him. +"Well, Inspector, that's that." + +"Not quite." The Inspector selected another drawer at the other end of +the desk and dumped everything before the scanner. His examination was +speeding up and that was not good; he would have time to take more +sample readings. + +"Now if you'll empty your left pocket--" + + * * * * * + +"Oh, this is too much!" Marie exploded. "My husband struggles all +night on secret work, studying to find ways to stop the anti-socials, +and you treat him like one of them!" + +"You're working on the problem?" the Inspector said respectfully. +"What are you doing?" + +Frying pan to fire. Hart preferred the pan and pulled open a drawer. +"It's too complicated, too much time needed to explain!" + +The Inspector glanced at his watch. "I'm falling behind schedule." He +closed up his box. "Sorry, but I have to leave. Heavy time sheet +today." + +As soon as he was gone, Hart breathed easier. Nothing incriminating +would be fed into the Central Scanner. + +Marie became apologetic. "I'm sorry I said it, Wendell, but I couldn't +keep quiet. All I did last night was peek in once or twice." + +He shrugged. "I'm just on a minor project." + +"Every bit counts." She shook her head. "Only you have to wonder--I +mean, don't think I'm treasoning, but while I was shopping an hour ago +a lot of women said you have to think--how come all that obsolescent +junk could work so well, after being thoroughly wrecked, too? You +almost wonder whether some of it was too good for disintegration." + +Wendell pretended to be shocked. "Just a fluke of circumstance. If +something like that happened again you'd be right to wonder. But it +could not ever happen again." + +"Don't get me wrong, Wendell. None of the women attacked anything. It +was more like what you just said. They said if it happened again, then +you'd have to wonder. But of course it couldn't happen again." + +How well the tables had turned! Not only had Marie's ignorant +knowledge proven helpful but she had now given him a positive idea +also. + +When he met Wright and Johnson at the latter's apartment that evening +he explained it to them. "We can propagate 'dangerous' thoughts and +yet appear completely loyal. We can set up the reaction to next High +Holy Day." + +"How?" demanded Johnson. "That's having your cake and eating it." + +"Nothing's impossible in the human mind," Wright said. "Let's +listen." + +"Here's the point. Wherever you go there will be people tsk-tsking +about the Preliminary fiasco. Just reassure them, say it meant nothing +at all by itself. If it ever happened again, then there would be room +for doubt but, of course, _it could not happen again_!" + +Wright smiled. "That's almost feminine in its subtlety." + +He smiled back. "My wife inspired it. Don't get nervous--it was +unconscious, sheerly by accident." + +"Whatever the cause, it's the perfect result," Johnson conceded. +"We'll spread it through the net." + +"Along with this, I hope." Wendell dumped the contacts on a table top. +"It's the smallest size possible. A lot should get by unnoticed. Find +cell members who can set up cryotrons with a wide range of +instructions to cope with anything in the piles. Some weirdly alive +concoctions of 'obsolescent' parts ought to result." + +"Some day the world's going to know what you've done for it," said +Johnson solemnly. + +"That could happen too soon!" Miss Wright's face, honest and open in +its horse-like length, broke into a wide grin. + +"Amen," said Hart, adding the private hope that Marie, blessed with +superior looks, might be able to show as much superior wisdom some +day. + + * * * * * + +The hope was not immediately fulfilled. When he reached home Marie was +in a tizzy of excitement. "You're just in time, darling. They just +caught three subversives. One of them was a woman," she added as this +were compounding an improbability with an impossibility. "They're +going to show them." + +He gripped his belt tightly. "A woman?" + +"That's right. There she is now." + +A uniformed officer was gently helping a pale little old woman sit +down before the camera, as if she were more an object of pity than of +fear. Hart relaxed. + +"--caught red-handed with the incriminating papers," shouted an +offstage announcer. "Handbills asserting objects declared obsolescent +could actually last indefinitely!" + +"What do you have to say for yourself?" the officer asked gently. "You +must realize, of course, that such irreligious behavior precludes your +moving in general society for a long time to come." + +"I don't know what came over me," she sobbed in a tired voice. +"Curiosity. Yes, curiosity, that's what it was. I saw these sheets of +paper in the street and they said we should stop working so hard at +compulsory tasks and start working to expand our own interests and +personalities." + +"Self-contradictory nonsense!" said the voice. + +"Yes, I know that. But it made me curious and I took it home to read, +and it said our compulsory tasks were artificially manufactured and, +if you didn't believe that, look at the pile that reactivated itself +the other day." She stopped, reorganizing her thoughts. "Of course, +though, that thing in the Plaza was unique, you know. I don't think it +could mean a thing ... unless it happened a few times. And the fact is +it won't ever happen again." + +"Well, that much makes very good sense," said Marie. "You said the +same thing, Wendell. I don't think that poor woman knew what she was +doing--just a dupe for subversive propaganda." + +"--a dupe for subversive propaganda," the announcer was saying. + +"See, exactly what I said." + +"Yes, dear." + +How swiftly the decentralized underground was working! Hart could not +tell whether the old woman was an active member or just a passive +responder, but it did not matter. She was now spreading the seeds for +future doubt across the land. + +Two old men were brought in and they mumbled the same disconnected +story as their sister. + +"We have intensively interrogated these prisoners," boomed the +announcer, "and know there is nothing more to the rumored anti-social +plot than this stupid chatter. Remain vigilant and you have nothing to +fear!" + +"You are sentenced to five years isolation from general society," said +the officer, in a voice dulcet enough to sell advance orders for +replacement products that had not yet been made. "Our intention is to +protect you from bad influences. Our hope is that others will take +your lesson to heart." + +"God bless you," said the woman and her brothers joined in effusive +thanks. + +"Makes you proud to be a human being," Marie said. "I was getting some +stupid doubts myself, dear. I must admit it. But that's all past. I +can hardly wait for the Highest Holy Day." + +"Neither can I," sighed her husband. + + +III + +The next day at noon Eric came to him, functioning on the final set of +servo instructions that had been installed in him at the factory of +his birth eight years before. He shook hands with the two of them and +said: "Now I am prepared for death." + +Marie was tearful. "I will miss you, Eric. If you were only under five +years old your span could be extended." + +"Everything that happens is right," Eric said impassively. + +He clambered on to the operation table, instinctively knowing which +flat surface was for him, and, breaking all his major circuits, gave +up the ghost that only man could restore to him. + +Hart found his wife's grief easy to bear. The day after tomorrow she +would join in the general exultation of High Holy Day, with Eric well +forgotten. He methodically began smashing the surface of the limbs and +torso; the greater the visible damage, the greater the honor +redounding to the sacrifice donor. "This will be our gift to the +general pile," he said. + +"I thought we could keep him for our garden sacrifice," Marie +protested meekly. "Most people do." + +"But the other way is the greater sacrifice." + +There was no reply, because she knew he spoke for the deeper, more +moving custom. But suddenly he began to act depressed himself. "I know +we say it every ten years, but Eric was really the best companion we +ever had." He gestured toward the table. "I want to sit here with him +for a while--alone." + +"That's carrying things too far, Wendell. A little grief is +proper--but this much is actually morbid." + +"It's all within my rights." + +She tossed her head petulantly. "Well, I've done my share. I can't +stand any more. It makes a person think and get depressed. I don't +care what you're going to do. I'm going out to enjoy a Preliminary." + +"Can't blame you for that," he nodded. + +When she had gone he started to work on new instruction tapes for +activating the servo-cryotron. Nothing could be surrendered to chance. +Every possible circumstance in the pile had to be anticipated. There +had to be instructions for action if Eric was crushed below fifty feet +of metal, for assembling any kind of scrambled wiring, for adapting +all types of parts in its immediate surroundings, for using these +parts to absorb parts further away and for timing the operation to the +start of the Highest Rite. + +Some tapes had been prepared earlier, so it was possible to put +everything in the cryotron box before Marie returned, as well as to +attach the tiny contact that would reach out from the box until it +reached its first external scrap of wire or metal. + +"You poor darling," she pouted. "You missed the most wonderful thing! +They demolished a whole thirty-story building!" + +His blood, atavistically effected, pulsed faster until his new creed +came to grips with his old emotions. "They usually don't bother with +buildings for the Rites." + +"I know--that's what was so wonderful! The State has decided to make +this one the biggest Day of all time. We'll have enough work to fill +the whole ten years! Everybody was so happy." + +"I'm sure they were." He caught himself in mid-sarcasm and said, "I'm +sorry I missed it." + +"And I'm sorry I've been so selfishly self-centered." She frowned. "I +forgot about it, but there were people in the crowd boasting they had +been assigned to fight anti-social movements. I had to boast back that +my husband had been honored too." + +He tensed. "Oh? What did they say to that?" + +"Frankly, they laughed." + +"I should think so. The Central Scanner didn't pick up anything except +a lot of ineffective propaganda. The sabotage business was all +hysteria." + +"That's just what they said--the assignments were an empty honor." She +coldly considered Eric. "I want to wreck him too." + +"I've smashed the insides," he said. "You'd better just work the +surface." + +"That's all I want to do," she answered, starting to scratch +traditional marks all over the dead robot. It gave her a full +afternoon of happy, busy labor. + + * * * * * + +The next day a large open truck came around and the street echoed to +the appeal for contributions. Festival spirit was running high +everywhere and when the neighborhood crowd saw the young robot porters +carry Eric out there was a loud cheer of appreciation. + +"My husband decided on a major contribution right away," Marie +announced to them. + +"It's the least we could do," he said modestly. + +Many onlookers, swept away by their example, rushed indoors to bring +out additional items of sacrifice. But only two others gave up their +robots. The rest clung to them for private Holy Night ceremonies. Soon +Eric disappeared under the renewed deluge of egg-beaters and washers. + +"The best collection I have seen today," said the inspector +accompanying the truck. "You people are to be congratulated for your +exceptional patriotism." + +"Destroy!" they shouted back joyously. "Make work!" + +At dawn the Central Plaza was already crowded and new hordes kept +pouring in from outlying areas. Wendell and his wife had been among +the first to arrive. They waited, impatient in their separate ways, on +the borderline five hundred yards from the ten-story pyre. + +Martial music roared from loudspeakers, interrupted by the +mellifluous boom of a merchandising announcer: "New product! Better +models! One hundred years of High Holy Days! New! New! NEW!" + +"Destroy!" came the returning shout. "Make work! Work! Work!" + +All the sounds echoed back and forth until baffled away by the open +area across the Plaza, where one large structure had already been +destroyed. Three others were slated for collapse today. + +"The biggest Holy Day ever," a restless old woman said to Marie. "I've +seen all nine of them." + +"Eric's in there," Marie chatted back, superficially sad, deeply +happy. + +"Who?" + +"Our house robot." + +"Imagine that! Did you hear that?" People gathered round them and +cheered. The good-natured jostling continued until someone said: "Five +minutes to go!" + +Wendell checked his watch. Somewhere in the pile at least one element +was coming to life, a metal arm reaching out for brother metal to +engulf in its cybernetic sweep. + +"They're coming!" A line of six shiny new slaggers came rumbling into +the open with military precision. They moved along slowly, prolonging +the pleasures of anticipation, then broke rank, each seeking its +assigned point around the pile of appliances gathered for +destruction. + +"The latest improved models," said the loudspeakers. "They will first +perform fifteen minutes of automatic maneuvers." The military music +resumed and each slagger turned, as if circling a coin, in clanking +rhythm to it. + +"The three hundred and sixty degree turn. Next, making a box on the +Plaza floor...." + +The voice stopped, appalled. + + * * * * * + +An avalanche of metal slid down one side of the pile and the crowd +gasped. The downward movement viscously slowed; then the metal, +suddenly alive with the capacity to defy gravity, circled upward. +Jagged limbs started flailing about. + +"Disintegrator attack!" screamed the loudspeakers. "Attack!" + +The maneuvers stopped. For one brief moment prior to changeover the +Plaza was dead still, except for the deafening rumble in the pile. The +slaggers broke the spell, rushing full speed toward the pile, +evaporator beams working. + +One by one they faltered and were sucked into the destructive pyre. + +The crowd fell further back. The whole pile came alive like a mineral +octopus. Then the squirming thing collapsed, every makeshift circuit +irreparably broken and dead. Everything had been happening too fast +for any pronounced reaction to accompany it; but now the world went +crazy. + +"Stand firm!" pleaded the loudspeakers. "We will get reinforcements as +soon as celebrations are finished elsewhere." + +A barrage of enormous boos came from the disintegrating mob. "Never +again! Fakes! It's finished, done for!" + +"Stand firm!" + +But the breakup down side avenues continued. "I don't understand," +Marie shuddered. "Everything's crazy. We've been deceived, Wendell. +Who's been deceiving us?" + +"Nobody--unless it's ourselves." + +"I don't understand that either." Saucer-eyed she watched a great +clump of disgruntled people push past. "I _have_ to think!" + +Suddenly, as they came around a corner, they were facing Burnett. + +Hart tried to disregard him but the group leader would have none of +that. He rushed up to Hart. "Good to see a friendly face. Shocking +developments!" His face was grim, but tiny wrinkles at the corners of +his eyes betrayed an amusement that could only be discovered by those +who looked for it. + +"Mr. Burnett," he explained to Marie. "A librarian at the main +building. Mr. Burnett, my wife Marie." + +"I am most happy to meet you, Mrs. Hart. Have you heard the latest?" + +"No, Mr. Burnett." + +"The same things have been happening _everywhere_! They announced it +on the radio and they're saying it's due to anti-social elements. +Shocking!" + +She shook her head stubbornly. "I don't know what to think. Maybe we +shouldn't be shocked, maybe we should be. I just don't know, Mr. +Burnett. I came to enjoy myself and look how it's ended." She bravely +held back a sob, "Maybe we'd have been better off if we've never heard +about High Holy Days!" + +Burnett looked about with feigned apprehension. "You have to be careful +what you say. The government says there's even talk--subversive +handbills--about trying to rehabilitate some of the stuff in the piles." + +"The government ought to keep quiet!" she exploded. "They said this +couldn't happen. You can't believe anything they say any more. The +_people_ decide and the government will have to listen, that's what I +say! And I'm a pretty typical person, not one of your intellectual +kind. No criticism of present company intended." + +"None taken, Mrs. Hart. Our human future," said Burnett, exchanging a +grin with his aide, "remains, as it always has really been. +Interesting--to say the least!" + +END + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Junkmakers, by Albert R. 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