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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/33872-h.zip b/33872-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..58f013f --- /dev/null +++ b/33872-h.zip diff --git a/33872-h/33872-h.htm b/33872-h/33872-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a86c353 --- /dev/null +++ b/33872-h/33872-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1362 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<!-- $Id: header.txt 236 2009-12-07 18:57:00Z vlsimpson $ --> + +<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 Nine Men In Time, by Noel Loomis. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + 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; +} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +.pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; +} /* page numbers */ + +.linenum { + position: absolute; + top: auto; + left: 4%; +} /* poetry number */ + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +.sidenote { + width: 20%; + padding-bottom: .5em; + padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; + padding-right: .5em; + margin-left: 1em; + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; + color: black; + background: #eeeeee; + border: dashed 1px; +} + +.bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + +.bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + +.bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + +.br {border-right: solid 2px;} + +.bbox {border: solid 2px;} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.u {text-decoration: underline;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold;} + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figleft { + float: left; + clear: left; + margin-left: 0; + margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 1em; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 1em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Footnotes */ +.footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + +.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Nine Men in Time, by Noel Miller Loomis + +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: Nine Men in Time + +Author: Noel Miller Loomis + +Release Date: October 18, 2010 [EBook #33872] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NINE MEN IN TIME *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/cover.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<h1>Nine Men In Time</h1> + +<h2>By NOEL LOOMIS</h2> + + +<p>[Transcriber note: This etext was produced Science Fiction Stories 1953. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright +on this publication was renewed.]</p> + +<div class="figcenter"> +<img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + +<div class="sidenote"><i>The idea of sending a man back in time to re-do a job he's +botched, so that a deadline can still be met—added to the thought of +duplicating a man so there'll be two doing the same work at the same +time—adds up to a production-manager's dream. But any dream can +suddenly shift into a nightmare....</i></div> + + +<p>The receivers, two of them lawyers, had long faces when they sat down +across from my desk in the office of the Imperial Printing Company.</p> + +<p>"Frankly, Mr. Shane," said the older one, "it is a very grave question +in our minds whether we should try to continue to operate the business +or whether we should close the plant and liquidate the machinery and +equipment the best we can."</p> + +<p>I was stunned. "I don't understand," I said helplessly. "We've been +doing a nice business—and at a profit—in the year I've been here." It +was my first big job, and I wanted to make good. I thought I had made +good, but here they were jerking the floor out from under me, and I +couldn't make any sense out of it.</p> + +<p>"Well," said one, "the business isn't showing the profit we expected."</p> + +<p>"What you need is a used-car lot," I said pointedly.</p> + +<p>The elder man cleared his throat. "Now look, Mr. Shane, suppose we say +three months."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean—three months?"</p> + +<p>"We'll allow you to go ahead for three months. If the business doesn't +show a distinct upturn by then—" He raised his eyebrows.</p> + +<p>I swallowed hard. So that was it, then.</p> + +<p>They even had the date set for the execution, and I knew they intended +to go through with it. Only a revolution would change that.</p> + +<p>I wanted that job; it was my chance to make a name for myself. If they +should close the plant now, I'd have a black eye. You can't go around +asking for a job and saying, "But I was making money for them." They'll +wonder what else was wrong.</p> + +<p>I thought I knew why they were so willing to close the plant; it was +part of an estate, and the way things were, it took a lot of their time +each month for not too big a fee. But if the estate should be +liquidated—well, figure it out yourself. This business was all mixed up +between an administratorship and a receivership, and the attorney's fees +for liquidation would be a percentage of a hundred-thousand-dollar shop. +It could run to a nice sum. They'd sell out, collect their fee, and +forget it. A nice clean deal for them. And no more worry.</p> + +<p>That is what I was up against, so perhaps it was inevitable that I +should find Dr. Hudson—Lawrence Edward Hudson. That was 1983, really +about the beginning of the scientific age in industry, and I dug this +idea up out of the back of my head where it had been for some time. Dr. +Hudson was the result. I did not label him efficiency-expert, for +printers have always been notoriously allergic to that title. I called +him production-engineer.</p> + +<p>He was a small, thin-faced man with a face that seemed to all flow into +a point where his nose should have been, and he started talking things +over with me before he got his coat off.</p> + +<p>"Printing," he said, "is really <i>the</i> backward industry. There has been +no basic advance since the invention of the linecasting machine around +1890, and possibly the development of offset printing."</p> + +<p>"That," I said, "is why you are here—to bring out something startling."</p> + +<p>"Well," he said, "you've heard the old one about the man who had +something to do with each hand, and if you'd give him a broom he could +sweep out the shop, too?" He leaned forward, his nose jutting at me, and +said impressively, "Mr. Shane, we shall make that come literally true; +we'll have men working in two places at once before we're through."</p> + +<p>"Okay."</p> + +<p>"In the meantime, there are certain old-fashioned fundamental principles +on which we shall start. I shall be here at seven-thirty in the +morning."</p> + +<p>I should have known. Man, being mass, possesses inertia, mentally as +well as physically, and therefore offers a certain amount of resistance +to being kicked around. That applies to printers as well as to people. +But at that time I was too worried. I gave Dr. Hudson full authority.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He was there at seven-thirty the next morning, as he had said. At eight, +the printers were standing around the time-clock, waiting for it to +click the hour. It clicked, but the man nearest it was smoking a +cigarette. He punched his card and then stood there, finishing the +cigarette.</p> + +<p>Dr. Hudson stepped up. "Gentlemen," he said, "it is now four minutes +past eight. Starting-time is eight o'clock." He looked at his watch and +compared it with the clock. "Please do your visiting and your smoking on +your own time," he said coldly.</p> + +<p>Well, it bothered me a little. I'd never handled them that way—and +anyway, who cared about five minutes? The men would set just so much +type, or do so much work. If they lost five minutes in one place, they +generally made it up somewhere else. But this was Dr. Hudson's job.</p> + +<p>It was nice that there had been no insolence—only a couple of raised +eyebrows. Dr. Hudson's gesture had had its effect. They knew now who was +boss.</p> + +<p>For the next few days they kept their heads up. Production did not +improve much, but I personally had not expected it to do that. I think +Dr. Hudson had not expected it, either.</p> + +<p>It was about three days after Dr. Hudson arrived, that a big job came +in from the Legal Publishing Company—a three-volume, four-thousand-page +record for the U. S. circuit court. They could not handle the +typesetting, so they farmed that part out to us.</p> + +<p>It had to be delivered exactly one week before the deadline that had +been set by the receivers for closing the plant. I very nearly turned it +down, but Dr. Hudson's eyes glittered when he saw it. "Just what we +need," he said.</p> + +<p>"That's almost two thousand galleys of type," I reminded him, "besides +our regular stuff." I was very dubious.</p> + +<p>But Dr. Hudson was enthusiastic. "We'll make history," he promised.</p> + +<p>Well, we did. Union or not, the men would have to learn to do things the +modern way. That is what I told the chairman when he protested against +having the men go back in time to set a job over. That had been my first +idea, executed by Dr. Hudson.</p> + +<p>As I said, Dr. Hudson was an experimental physicist. He was, you might +say, a super-physicist, because he had specialized in finding ways to do +all the things which traditionally were impossible, like traveling in +time.</p> + +<p>So when the Monotype casterman set a job in Caslon that should have been +set in Century, I turned him over to Dr. Hudson. The doctor took him +into the laboratory and sent him back two days in time and had him do +the job over—but right. The casterman didn't like it, but he didn't +know what to do about it.</p> + +<p>There was plenty of buzzing that afternoon among the men, especially +when the job, re-set in the correct face—or rather, set in the correct +face, because this now was the first time it had been set—was put on +the dump. I gave the boys five minutes to crowd around and look at the +proof and then I broke it up. I was exultant. It didn't occur to me then +that a man could be <i>too</i> ambitious.</p> + +<p>That afternoon the chairman came in, and I was ready for him. "We are +not," I pointed out, "violating our union contract."</p> + +<p>"But you made the casterman set the job twice, and he doesn't get paid +for it."</p> + +<p>"We pay the casterman two dollars an hour for seven hours a day. When +he's here more than seven hours, he'll get time and a half," I said +triumphantly.</p> + +<p>The chairman frowned, but I didn't relax; I was on top and I knew it. +"He set the job wrong in the first place," I pointed out, "and he got +paid for that. Is there any reason why he shouldn't correct his own +mistake, if it doesn't take any of his time?"</p> + +<p>"It does take time," he insisted.</p> + +<p>"No. He's only re-living that four hours and doing the job right instead +of wrong; you can't find any fault with that."</p> + +<p>And he couldn't. I felt wonderful. I wanted to jump and shout, but I +compromised by taking Dr. Hudson down for a gleeful drink and planning +our next tactic.</p> + +<p>We also settled a point of strategy. We decided to confuse them with a +few minor things before springing our next real item—which would be, to +put it mildly, revolutionary.</p> + +<p>Things looked pretty good. The only thing that bothered me was that we +hadn't started the big job yet.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The next morning I saw a new face at the keyboard of one of our +linecasting machines. I had long ago adopted democracy as a good policy, +so now I stopped to introduce myself. "I'm J. J. Shane, the manager."</p> + +<p>His hands, with incredibly long fingers, had been just flowing over the +keyboard—that is the only way to describe it—with the long fingers +moving down an inch or so whenever they were above the right key, and +doing it all so smoothly it was hard to realize he was actually +composing lines. His hands seemed to flow back and forth like the tide, +and yet he was setting twenty ems eight-point and keeping the machine +hung. Here, I thought right away, was a valuable man. This fellow could +be a pace-setter if we would handle him right.</p> + +<p>But when I spoke to him and held out my hand, he looked at me for a +second without missing a stroke, then his hands dropped away from the +keyboard and he started to unfold himself from the chair.</p> + +<p>"You don't need to get up," I said hastily. "I don't want to take up any +of your time."</p> + +<p>But he finished unfolding himself and stood up. "I have plenty of time," +he said. He was over seven feet tall, and that meant a foot and a half +over me—and very thin. His clothes looked pretty weatherbeaten, as if +maybe he'd been caught in a few rainstorms.</p> + +<p>"Jones," said his booming voice from somewhere far above me. +"High-Pockets Jones, sometimes known as the Dean of Barn-stormers."</p> + +<p>I leaned back to look up at him. His face was as weatherbeaten as his +clothes. I recognized the reddish tan that comes from facing a hot wind +on the top of a moving boxcar. He was obviously a bum, and probably +wouldn't be with us long, but there was something almost of nobility in +his eyes—calmness, gentleness, or perhaps just the knowledge of having +been in many, many situations and the experience gained from getting out +of them, and the self-assurance that he would always be able to get out +of any situation.</p> + +<p>I reached up to shake hands. "Yes, I've heard of you," I said. "You're +sort of a throwback to the days when they needed barnstormers to correct +bad working-conditions, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>He chose to pass that remark, "I've heard of you, too," he said, that +last word sounding like the low string on a bull fiddle.</p> + +<p>I laughed quickly but efficiently—shortly, I believe they call it. +"Nothing good, I hope."</p> + +<p>High-Pockets Jones paused a moment before he answered: "Not bad, until +lately."</p> + +<p>It took me a moment or two to realize what he had said. I bent back to +look at his face. He was quite sober about it.</p> + +<p>"Okay," I said hastily. "I don't want to keep you from your work."</p> + +<p>I worried a little about High-Pockets. I had heard a lot about him; he +was a sort of mystery man in the printing business, going from place to +place, wherever printers felt they were having trouble, and trying to +straighten things out.</p> + +<p>The stories about him indicated that he had some odd ways of doing that, +based largely on a sort of legendary influence that he had over +machinery. I remembered even the theory that all machinery was +negatively charged with some sort of "personal" electricity, and that +High-Pockets—having been hit by lightning—had a terrifically high +charge of positive electricity of the same sort, which enabled him to do +miraculous things on occasion with machinery—especially linecasting +machines.</p> + +<p>Well, I dismissed that as a bunch of talk, but what I didn't quite like +was the fact that High-Pockets traditionally appeared in places where he +was needed to straighten out things for the men.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>I went into conference with Dr. Hudson, and he agreed with me that we +should go right ahead; but we'd keep an eye on High-Pockets Jones, and +at the first sign of interference Mr. Jones would find himself in a +great deal of trouble. I would even, I decided, stoop to having him +thrown in jail on a phony charge, if that should be necessary.</p> + +<p>By this time we had started on the Legal Printing Company job, and we +went ahead with our next offensive. Mind-reading came first. Dr. Hudson +installed a black box at the water-fountain, and he explained to the men +what it was for. He had a private wire to his desk, and a transformer +that turned the current from the box back into thoughts. It was quite +efficient. Some of the thoughts we got the first day were vituperative, +some were quite obscene, and some were pretty feeble, but that didn't +matter. It got the boys to worrying, and it saved us a bottle of spring +water a day.</p> + +<p>Then there was the installation of the lucite piping. Of course seeing +in curves had been possible for years, but never on this scale. We piped +lucite to every place where a man worked, and so we could throw a switch +in the inner office and check on every man in the shop without their +knowing it. That was a very clever device; it really put the men on the +spot.</p> + +<p>Once in a while, when I needed to relax, I would flip a switch and throw +High-Pockets Jones' machine on the screen. The smooth rhythm of those +flowing hands was more soothing than a lullaby, especially because I +knew how much type they were getting up.</p> + +<p>Then we advanced to the third step in our strategy: having a man in two +places at once.</p> + +<p>Dr. Hudson finished making his cabinet filled with coils and +transformers and condensers and circuits I'd never heard of, and we set +it up in the composing-room one night.</p> + +<p>It was that night that full realization hit me that we had set only two +hundred galleys of type out of the two thousand on the Legal Printing +Company job, and that there were only two weeks left to get it out. +Somehow or other, I had let it slip by. I thought Dr. Hudson was +watching those things; I had been busy trying to make an impression for +the receivers.</p> + +<p>I was sick when I figured it all out. We had six machines. If we should +run those six machines two shifts a day, our capacity was about three +hundred and sixty galleys a week. Into eighteen hundred that goes +considerably more than two times. We would need five weeks of full +production—and we couldn't possibly give it full production; we had +other jobs, too.</p> + +<p>The only hope was Dr. Hudson's new machine.</p> + +<p>The next day the electricians hooked it up to a twelve-hundred-volt +feed-line, and by noon it was ready to go. At twelve-thirty, as soon as +the men punched in, I called them together. This was on office time, of +course, so there couldn't be any squawk. Dr. Hudson was there to +explain. I never had fully realized how much of him was nose before I +watched him that day.</p> + +<p>"Gentlemen," he said, "this is nothing to be afraid of. This is merely +a modern device to assure continuous production in the composing-room by +eliminating lost time from sickness and accidents. As you know, if a +linotype operator is ill, his machine goes untouched. That day's +production is lost. At a cost per man of around ten dollars an hour, +that represents a considerable loss."</p> + +<p>He opened the cabinet and showed them a comfortable leather seat inside.</p> + +<p>"There are two compartments in this cabinet," he said. "All this machine +does is to produce, temporarily, an extra man to fill the sick man's +place. One of the men present steps in here; I close the door, see that +the machine is charged here on the other side with plenty of linotype +metal to provide the material of atomic synthesis, press the button, and +lo!—the man in the chair is duplicated on the other side of the +cabinet."</p> + +<p>High-Pockets Jones stepped forward with his deep eyes fixed on Dr. +Hudson. "What," High-Pockets asked, "is your theory of this machine?"</p> + +<p>Dr. Hudson smiled. "I am glad you asked that, Mr. Jones. Very glad. This +process is in no sense a separation or thinning out of the man in the +chair. It is, in reality; an unusual extension of the well-known fact +that nature tends to follow a pattern. If you want to make a synthetic +sapphire, you start with a seed sapphire, and the artificial process +builds up on that. Now, this machine, which I call an extender, is +merely a far-reaching extension of the synthesis of precious stones."</p> + +<p>"By use of a revolutionary type of three-dimensional scanner, which was +invented by myself," he said modestly, "I am able to focus on a certain +object from a certain distance and, if there is material at hand, +synthesize an exact duplicate of the original from the scanner. It +doesn't hurt the original in any way. You merely have two where you had +but one."</p> + +<p>The men stood around bug-eyed and stared incredulously—all but +High-Pockets. "Is the second one alive?" he asked. "I mean, would you +say it has a soul?"</p> + +<p>"That," said Dr. Hudson crisply, "is out of my field. I suggest you +consult your spiritual adviser."</p> + +<p>The chairman stepped up, "You have tried this thing, have you?"</p> + +<p>"Thoroughly tested," said Dr. Hudson.</p> + +<p>I refrained from smiling. The printers were flabbergasted; they didn't +know what to do or think. The chairman was trying to get his poor +fogged brain together with arguments. The only person besides myself and +Dr. Hudson who seemed to be at ease was the barnstormer, High-Pocket +Jones.</p> + +<p>"In-other words," High-Pockets said, "if we are short an operator, I can +walk in that cabinet and you can in a few minutes make another +High-Pockets Jones, who will set type until you put him back into the +cabinet and turn him back into a hundred and sixty pounds of linotype +metal?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely." Dr. Hudson smiled and showed his teeth. I could see he was +losing his patience.</p> + +<p>"Well," said High-Pockets, "I can see about nine hundred legal questions +right off the bat. Who is going to draw the duplicate's pay? Is the +duplicate entitled to a union card? Is he entitled to overtime? Is he a +man or an automaton?"</p> + +<p>"Sorry," said Dr. Hudson. "I am not a legal expert."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>High-Pockets walked up to the cabinet and looked inside. I'd swear he +looked as if he knew what all those wires were there for. His deep eyes +took it all in, and then he announced in his booming voice from far +above us. "You're waiting for a volunteer," he said. "I'll be first."</p> + +<p>I practically fell over. I think even Dr. Hudson was dumbfounded; we had +not expected unconditional surrender. I was elated.</p> + +<p>High-Pockets Jones was seated in the cabinet. Dr. Hudson threw the +switch. After five minutes' humming, a relay clicked. Dr. Hudson opened +the door. High-Pockets Jones, with a deep smile on his weatherbeaten +face, unfolded his long legs and stepped out, holding his head down to +keep from hitting the top of the door-frame.</p> + +<p>"How do you feel?" asked Dr. Hudson.</p> + +<p>"Excellent," boomed High-Pockets, straightening up.</p> + +<p>The physicist went around to the other side, and though I had been +watching these experiments for some time, I give you my word I very +nearly choked on my own tongue when I saw High-Pockets Jones walk out of +the second compartment.</p> + +<p>The second High-Pockets produced a worn bill-fold and extracted a pink +union permit.</p> + +<p>"I protest this inhuman manipulation of a man's individuality," said the +chairman indignantly; "this is outrageous."</p> + +<p>I felt better now. I'd been waiting for that. "Let him go to work," I +said. "We need an operator today, anyway; Bill Smith has the flu. I +will guarantee to pay a man's wages to whomever you say, if this is +found to be illegal."</p> + +<p>Under the law, there wasn't much they could do. And I had already taken +the precaution of retaining the best legal counsel in the city.</p> + +<p>I was elated when they went to work. I pumped Dr. Hudson's hand and +assured him that we had indeed made spectacular history, and together we +could make millions.</p> + +<p>The first trouble came an hour later. One of the High-Pocketses—I +couldn't tell which one—came into the office. "The foreman sent me up +to get some work," he said in his booming voice.</p> + +<p>I frowned. What was going on back there? I went back, High-Pockets Jones +was working on his own machine. High-Pockets Jones was also working on +Bill Smith's machine. I looked up quickly. High-Pockets Jones was also +standing beside me.</p> + +<p>He smiled. "Catching, isn't it?"</p> + +<p>I swallowed, but I knew they were playing tricks. High-Pockets Jones had +walked into the cabinet a second time, and his double had worked the +controls and produced a third. Well, this could get confusing, but I +stayed calm. "You're a floor-man, too, aren't you?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Okay. You go back to the Monotype room and get a bunch of slugs and +leads and saw them up to fill the cases. They're getting pretty low."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir." He turned and went away.</p> + +<p>When I got back to the office I thought I'd just turn on the lucite and +see what they might be up to next. I had an uneasy feeling.</p> + +<p>Sure enough, a High-Pockets Jones was stepping out of the second +compartment of the cabinet. I gulped and quickly checked the others. +This was the fourth one.</p> + +<p>I went back to raise hell, but High-Pockets—well, one of them—was +quite calm about it. "Two men can do it faster than one," he said.</p> + +<p>I licked my lips and beat my brains, but I didn't know the answer. I +went back to think it over. I had just decided to laugh it off when +three High-Pockets Joneses came into the office.</p> + +<p>"We need something to do," they said, all in that great booming voice +that seemed to come from the ceiling.</p> + +<p>"See the foreman. Tell him to give you all the standing type that needs +to be distributed."</p> + +<p>They left. I breathed a sigh of relief and sent out for a padlock to put +on the cabinet.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>An hour later, with a nice, shiny new padlock, I went back to the +composing-room. But I very nearly fainted when I saw the activity going +on back there. The composing-room was filled with High-Pockets Joneses.</p> + +<p>Two still were at the linecasting machines, and a whole crew of others +were running around the floor.</p> + +<p>"Where's the foreman?" I barked.</p> + +<p>High-Pockets Jones—one of them—came to attention. "He went home. He +was quite discouraged; he told us to throw in all the standing type we +could find."</p> + +<p>It didn't look good. I had the feeling that High-Pockets was laughing at +me—this High-Pockets, anyway.</p> + +<p>That reminded me. I gathered up all the High-Pocketses in the +composing-room and lined them up. There were nine—exactly nine—every +one of them over seven feet tall and thin as a sidestick, every one of +them with a gentle, booming voice.</p> + +<p>I wanted to tell the original High-Pockets to gather them all up and put +them back together, but I didn't know how to find the original.</p> + +<p>Well, they couldn't get me down. I fooled them. I told them all to take +the rest of the day off—at full pay.</p> + +<p>All nine of them washed up together and left together. It was the +damnedest thing I ever saw offstage. Nine identical High-Pocketses—all +so tall they had to weave around the neon lights instead of ducking +under them. It was enough to give a man nightmares, to watch that line +of High-Pockets Joneses advancing across an open composing-room.</p> + +<p>This kind of thing went on the next day, and the next. Every day there +were nine High-Pockets Joneses in the composing-room. Everybody was +falling over everybody else, when they weren't standing around laughing +up their sleeves.</p> + +<p>There was nothing I could do. I had been forced to turn over all of my +house to eight of the High-Pocketses, because they had to have a place +to stay, and after all, I was responsible for them.</p> + +<p>Our production went up a little, but the Legal Printing Company job was +hardly touched. There was too much of that sort of festive spirit in the +air; everybody was watching the High-Pocketses and waiting to see what +would happen next—and hoping for something extravagant. In other words, +they refused to take it seriously; to them, it was a circus.</p> + +<p>I didn't have the nerve to ask anybody else to split. After all, +High-Pockets was in nine places at once; that should have been enough. +It was apparent by that time that the extender would never be anything +in a printing office but a psychological monstrosity.</p> + +<p>I had to admit I was stymied, and I got so I didn't give a whoop. I was +sunk anyway. That is the way it went that week. On Saturday night Dr. +Hudson and I got beautifully soused.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>On Monday morning I didn't care. The Legal Printing Company called up +and said they could give us a few more days; if they could have it by +Friday, they could still make the filing date. I said we'd do everything +possible, and then I hung up and laughed bitterly and aloud. We couldn't +get it out if we had another month. The only thing was, as soon as our +plant closed up, they could ask the court for an extension because of +unforeseen circumstances, and probably get it. So I laughed aloud.</p> + +<p>I saw Dr. Hudson cleaning out his desk, and I nodded. "Sorry, Doc, we +got all fouled up. Maybe some other time—"</p> + +<p>He nodded. "Progress always encounters opposition," he said. "It just +happens that we are the sacrifices in this deal."</p> + +<p>"Yeah." I went out and had a drink.</p> + +<p>I was pretty dazed that week. It didn't make any difference. I had +already tried everything possible, and they had me hog-tied. And those +nine High-Pocketses had made me a laughing-stock.</p> + +<p>On Friday morning, I looked at the calendar and it suddenly occurred to +me that this was the thirty-first and the receivers would be around this +afternoon to decide whether or not to close the place.</p> + +<p>There wasn't any doubt as to what they would do. I began to clean out my +own desk. I felt terrible.</p> + +<p>Then one of the High-Pocketses came in with a piece of copy in his hand. +He looked at me queerly and then said softly, "You leaving?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," I said bitterly, "I'm going. You got me licked; I'm through."</p> + +<p>"I was just trying to point out to you the absurdity of some of your new +devices," he said.</p> + +<p>"Okay," I said, "you win. Guys like you make a business of going around +the country breaking print-shops and printing-office managers."</p> + +<p>High-Pockets' booming voice came from the ceiling. "You are mistaken. I +did not try to break you."</p> + +<p>"Well, you broke me, anyway." I blurted out the whole thing to him, how +the receivers were about to close us up, how the Legal Printing Company +job was weeks behind and was supposed to be delivered today. Then I +apologized. "It isn't your fault," I told him. "I'm sorry. I didn't +mean that. I just—well, I wanted to make good on this job."</p> + +<p>High-Pockets was very thoughtful. "I feel kind of sorry for you," he +said.</p> + +<p>"Oh, you don't need to. I earned it; I've got it coming. I was just a +little too ambitious, that's all. I didn't know a man could be <i>too</i> +ambitious."</p> + +<p>High-Pockets looked at me. His deep eyes were thoughtful. I could almost +see the neurons buzzing around in his head.</p> + +<p>"If I could get this job out for you on time, would that save the day?"</p> + +<p>"Probably." I laughed—or tried to. "But it is now a physical +impossibility. There isn't enough time."</p> + +<p>High-Pockets said sharply, "Call a truck," and wheeled out of the +office.</p> + +<p>I called the delivery truck before I realized what I had done. Well, it +didn't make any difference. They could start hauling out the machinery.</p> + +<p>I finished cleaning out my desk and took a wastebasket full of papers to +the back shop.</p> + +<p>And there, I give you my word, three High-Pocketses were busy carrying +galleys from the type-dump to the proof-press. And as fast as they could +carry a galley of type from the dump, another galley would just +materialize there. I stood and stared. Galleys of type were coming out +of thin air at the rate of about four galleys a minute.</p> + +<p>I went over to where High-Pockets—the original High-Pockets, I +suppose—was sitting at his machine. "Would you please tell me what is +going on?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Well," said High-Pockets, "it isn't so complicated. I just sent the +other five back in time to set this job, that's all. They've gone back +about twelve weeks; and of course there isn't much time, so I had to +make them double up. I've got them split up into shifts, along with a +double of the chairman there, to cover the six machines. It's a little +hard to explain, whether they are split up in time, or the time-split +ones are split up in place, or just what."</p> + +<p>"It's insane," I said weakly.</p> + +<p>"Well, at any rate, you see you have the equivalent of twelve night +shifts running at once, plus twelve graveyard shifts. That's twenty-four +times six—you have six machines—times twelve—that's the number of +galleys a day for each machine. I think it comes out to seventeen +hundred for a day's work."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>I grabbed hold of the vise-locking screw to keep my knees from doubling +under me. It was incredible—and yet it was true.</p> + +<p>High-Pockets also had organized the proofreaders and copyholders, and +they were reading in the past also, and sending us proofs in the +present. If anybody ever tells you they can't get seventeen hundred +galleys of type a day out of six linecasting machines—well, they just +don't know High-Pockets Jones.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he said apologetically, "they'll want to be paid."</p> + +<p>I was practically hysterical by that time. "I'll see that they get +overtime for every hour they put in."</p> + +<p>High-Pockets looked at me with his deep eyes. "Me, too," he said. I +laughed when I thought how there were nine of him working in twelve +places at once—or was it twenty-four—or maybe forty-eight. I was too +dizzy by that time to figure out anything. I only knew the job was going +to be delivered. The truckers were going in a steady stream through the +back door.</p> + +<p>Maybe the receivers would close up the place; maybe they wouldn't. At +least the job was being delivered.</p> + +<p>About four-thirty, the galleys suddenly quit coming; the job was +finished. Half an hour later it was out of the shop, and I had entered +it on the books.</p> + +<p>I had hardly laid down the pen when the three receivers came in. They +smoked a little and talked and I held my breath while they looked at the +books. I couldn't figure out what they were going to do.</p> + +<p>One of them whistled when he saw the Legal Printing Company figures. +"Well," he said, "business <i>has</i> been good."</p> + +<p>"Fair," I said modestly.</p> + +<p>The door to the shop opened and High-Pockets Jones walked in. I gulped; +eight High-Pockets Joneses walked in behind him.</p> + +<p>The three receivers stared. Their eyes stuck out until it was ludicrous. +But it wasn't funny; I knew something was going to happen now.</p> + +<p>By the time the last High-Pockets got in, the first receiver had seen +what was going on and was trying to get out, but nine High-Pocketses in +one room are a lot. For a minute it looked like a basketball game.</p> + +<p>The elder lawyer looked at me suspiciously. "Please explain this."</p> + +<p>I was too weak. "See for yourself," I said.</p> + +<p>One High-Pockets spoke to me. "Sorry, Mr. Shane. Just came in to say +good-bye. Never realized—"</p> + +<p>"That's okay," I said. "You've done your part; I can't squawk."</p> + +<p>The attorney spoke up. "Mr. Shane," he said, "I think the affairs of +the Imperial Printing Company are in perilous circumstances. I do not +know what is the meaning of this, but certainly there is something here +without precedent." And if you know lawyers, you know that anything +without precedent is very unholy.</p> + +<p>I told what we had done, but he was interested in only one thing. "Think +what a combined suit by these nine-er-twins here would do."</p> + +<p>"Nontuplets," suggested one High-Pockets.</p> + +<p>"Why"—the lawyer seemed to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the +damages he was visualizing—"that could amount to millions."</p> + +<p>I was desperate for an idea, but it wasn't any use. They were taking it +out of my hands. I saw the righteous light in the eyes of those men, and +I knew it was all over.</p> + +<p>But High-Pockets—or one of him—spoke up. "Is it your intention," he +asked me, "to keep the time-machine and the extender?"</p> + +<p>"No," I said. "I rather thought I'd get rid of the whole business; it's +much too complicated. Anyway, you boys out there came through with +superhuman efforts this afternoon. I don't think I'd ask you to be in +two places at once again."</p> + +<p>High-Pockets turned to the lawyer. "If the receivers agree to let the +plant operate as long as it shows a profit," he said, "we'll all go back +together and then you can break up the extender and there won't be any +more trouble. If you don't agree to that"—he paused—"we'll stay in +nine bodies and sue you every time we get a chance."</p> + +<p>The lawyer winced. The receivers went into conference. Finally they +said, a little anxiously, "If the Messiers High-Pockets will be good +enough to go back together, and if Mr. Shane will destroy the machine, +we are agreeable to the plant's continuance as a printing office."</p> + +<p>"Hooray!" I said, and nine High-Pocketses yelled hooray.</p> + +<p>I was exultant. I shook hands with each one of the High-Pocketses as +they filed into the extender. When there was only one left; he shook +hands with me.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing at all," said High-Pockets Jones. "Just got a call this morning +from a print-shop where they're trying to make the men wear +roller-skates so they can move faster. Guess they need me down there. So +long, boss."</p> + +<p>"So long," I said. I was sorry to see him go. I locked up the shop—but +first I cut off all the power and got a pig and smashed up Dr. Hudson's +coils and transformers. I wanted to come down in the morning without +seeing double.</p> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Nine Men in Time, by Noel Miller Loomis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NINE MEN IN TIME *** + +***** This file should be named 33872-h.htm or 33872-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/8/7/33872/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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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: Nine Men in Time + +Author: Noel Miller Loomis + +Release Date: October 18, 2010 [EBook #33872] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NINE MEN IN TIME *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + Nine Men In Time + + By NOEL LOOMIS + + +[Transcriber note: This etext was produced Science Fiction Stories 1953. +Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright +on this publication was renewed.] + + +[Sidenote: _The idea of sending a man back in time to re-do a job he's +botched, so that a deadline can still be met--added to the thought of +duplicating a man so there'll be two doing the same work at the same +time--adds up to a production-manager's dream. But any dream can +suddenly shift into a nightmare...._] + + +[Illustration] + + +The receivers, two of them lawyers, had long faces when they sat down +across from my desk in the office of the Imperial Printing Company. + +"Frankly, Mr. Shane," said the older one, "it is a very grave question +in our minds whether we should try to continue to operate the business +or whether we should close the plant and liquidate the machinery and +equipment the best we can." + +I was stunned. "I don't understand," I said helplessly. "We've been +doing a nice business--and at a profit--in the year I've been here." It +was my first big job, and I wanted to make good. I thought I had made +good, but here they were jerking the floor out from under me, and I +couldn't make any sense out of it. + +"Well," said one, "the business isn't showing the profit we expected." + +"What you need is a used-car lot," I said pointedly. + +The elder man cleared his throat. "Now look, Mr. Shane, suppose we say +three months." + +"What do you mean--three months?" + +"We'll allow you to go ahead for three months. If the business doesn't +show a distinct upturn by then--" He raised his eyebrows. + +I swallowed hard. So that was it, then. + +They even had the date set for the execution, and I knew they intended +to go through with it. Only a revolution would change that. + +I wanted that job; it was my chance to make a name for myself. If they +should close the plant now, I'd have a black eye. You can't go around +asking for a job and saying, "But I was making money for them." They'll +wonder what else was wrong. + +I thought I knew why they were so willing to close the plant; it was +part of an estate, and the way things were, it took a lot of their time +each month for not too big a fee. But if the estate should be +liquidated--well, figure it out yourself. This business was all mixed up +between an administratorship and a receivership, and the attorney's fees +for liquidation would be a percentage of a hundred-thousand-dollar shop. +It could run to a nice sum. They'd sell out, collect their fee, and +forget it. A nice clean deal for them. And no more worry. + +That is what I was up against, so perhaps it was inevitable that I +should find Dr. Hudson--Lawrence Edward Hudson. That was 1983, really +about the beginning of the scientific age in industry, and I dug this +idea up out of the back of my head where it had been for some time. Dr. +Hudson was the result. I did not label him efficiency-expert, for +printers have always been notoriously allergic to that title. I called +him production-engineer. + +He was a small, thin-faced man with a face that seemed to all flow into +a point where his nose should have been, and he started talking things +over with me before he got his coat off. + +"Printing," he said, "is really _the_ backward industry. There has been +no basic advance since the invention of the linecasting machine around +1890, and possibly the development of offset printing." + +"That," I said, "is why you are here--to bring out something startling." + +"Well," he said, "you've heard the old one about the man who had +something to do with each hand, and if you'd give him a broom he could +sweep out the shop, too?" He leaned forward, his nose jutting at me, and +said impressively, "Mr. Shane, we shall make that come literally true; +we'll have men working in two places at once before we're through." + +"Okay." + +"In the meantime, there are certain old-fashioned fundamental principles +on which we shall start. I shall be here at seven-thirty in the +morning." + +I should have known. Man, being mass, possesses inertia, mentally as +well as physically, and therefore offers a certain amount of resistance +to being kicked around. That applies to printers as well as to people. +But at that time I was too worried. I gave Dr. Hudson full authority. + + * * * * * + +He was there at seven-thirty the next morning, as he had said. At eight, +the printers were standing around the time-clock, waiting for it to +click the hour. It clicked, but the man nearest it was smoking a +cigarette. He punched his card and then stood there, finishing the +cigarette. + +Dr. Hudson stepped up. "Gentlemen," he said, "it is now four minutes +past eight. Starting-time is eight o'clock." He looked at his watch and +compared it with the clock. "Please do your visiting and your smoking on +your own time," he said coldly. + +Well, it bothered me a little. I'd never handled them that way--and +anyway, who cared about five minutes? The men would set just so much +type, or do so much work. If they lost five minutes in one place, they +generally made it up somewhere else. But this was Dr. Hudson's job. + +It was nice that there had been no insolence--only a couple of raised +eyebrows. Dr. Hudson's gesture had had its effect. They knew now who was +boss. + +For the next few days they kept their heads up. Production did not +improve much, but I personally had not expected it to do that. I think +Dr. Hudson had not expected it, either. + +It was about three days after Dr. Hudson arrived, that a big job came +in from the Legal Publishing Company--a three-volume, four-thousand-page +record for the U. S. circuit court. They could not handle the +typesetting, so they farmed that part out to us. + +It had to be delivered exactly one week before the deadline that had +been set by the receivers for closing the plant. I very nearly turned it +down, but Dr. Hudson's eyes glittered when he saw it. "Just what we +need," he said. + +"That's almost two thousand galleys of type," I reminded him, "besides +our regular stuff." I was very dubious. + +But Dr. Hudson was enthusiastic. "We'll make history," he promised. + +Well, we did. Union or not, the men would have to learn to do things the +modern way. That is what I told the chairman when he protested against +having the men go back in time to set a job over. That had been my first +idea, executed by Dr. Hudson. + +As I said, Dr. Hudson was an experimental physicist. He was, you might +say, a super-physicist, because he had specialized in finding ways to do +all the things which traditionally were impossible, like traveling in +time. + +So when the Monotype casterman set a job in Caslon that should have been +set in Century, I turned him over to Dr. Hudson. The doctor took him +into the laboratory and sent him back two days in time and had him do +the job over--but right. The casterman didn't like it, but he didn't +know what to do about it. + +There was plenty of buzzing that afternoon among the men, especially +when the job, re-set in the correct face--or rather, set in the correct +face, because this now was the first time it had been set--was put on +the dump. I gave the boys five minutes to crowd around and look at the +proof and then I broke it up. I was exultant. It didn't occur to me then +that a man could be _too_ ambitious. + +That afternoon the chairman came in, and I was ready for him. "We are +not," I pointed out, "violating our union contract." + +"But you made the casterman set the job twice, and he doesn't get paid +for it." + +"We pay the casterman two dollars an hour for seven hours a day. When +he's here more than seven hours, he'll get time and a half," I said +triumphantly. + +The chairman frowned, but I didn't relax; I was on top and I knew it. +"He set the job wrong in the first place," I pointed out, "and he got +paid for that. Is there any reason why he shouldn't correct his own +mistake, if it doesn't take any of his time?" + +"It does take time," he insisted. + +"No. He's only re-living that four hours and doing the job right instead +of wrong; you can't find any fault with that." + +And he couldn't. I felt wonderful. I wanted to jump and shout, but I +compromised by taking Dr. Hudson down for a gleeful drink and planning +our next tactic. + +We also settled a point of strategy. We decided to confuse them with a +few minor things before springing our next real item--which would be, to +put it mildly, revolutionary. + +Things looked pretty good. The only thing that bothered me was that we +hadn't started the big job yet. + + * * * * * + +The next morning I saw a new face at the keyboard of one of our +linecasting machines. I had long ago adopted democracy as a good policy, +so now I stopped to introduce myself. "I'm J. J. Shane, the manager." + +His hands, with incredibly long fingers, had been just flowing over the +keyboard--that is the only way to describe it--with the long fingers +moving down an inch or so whenever they were above the right key, and +doing it all so smoothly it was hard to realize he was actually +composing lines. His hands seemed to flow back and forth like the tide, +and yet he was setting twenty ems eight-point and keeping the machine +hung. Here, I thought right away, was a valuable man. This fellow could +be a pace-setter if we would handle him right. + +But when I spoke to him and held out my hand, he looked at me for a +second without missing a stroke, then his hands dropped away from the +keyboard and he started to unfold himself from the chair. + +"You don't need to get up," I said hastily. "I don't want to take up any +of your time." + +But he finished unfolding himself and stood up. "I have plenty of time," +he said. He was over seven feet tall, and that meant a foot and a half +over me--and very thin. His clothes looked pretty weatherbeaten, as if +maybe he'd been caught in a few rainstorms. + +"Jones," said his booming voice from somewhere far above me. +"High-Pockets Jones, sometimes known as the Dean of Barn-stormers." + +I leaned back to look up at him. His face was as weatherbeaten as his +clothes. I recognized the reddish tan that comes from facing a hot wind +on the top of a moving boxcar. He was obviously a bum, and probably +wouldn't be with us long, but there was something almost of nobility in +his eyes--calmness, gentleness, or perhaps just the knowledge of having +been in many, many situations and the experience gained from getting out +of them, and the self-assurance that he would always be able to get out +of any situation. + +I reached up to shake hands. "Yes, I've heard of you," I said. "You're +sort of a throwback to the days when they needed barnstormers to correct +bad working-conditions, aren't you?" + +He chose to pass that remark, "I've heard of you, too," he said, that +last word sounding like the low string on a bull fiddle. + +I laughed quickly but efficiently--shortly, I believe they call it. +"Nothing good, I hope." + +High-Pockets Jones paused a moment before he answered: "Not bad, until +lately." + +It took me a moment or two to realize what he had said. I bent back to +look at his face. He was quite sober about it. + +"Okay," I said hastily. "I don't want to keep you from your work." + +I worried a little about High-Pockets. I had heard a lot about him; he +was a sort of mystery man in the printing business, going from place to +place, wherever printers felt they were having trouble, and trying to +straighten things out. + +The stories about him indicated that he had some odd ways of doing that, +based largely on a sort of legendary influence that he had over +machinery. I remembered even the theory that all machinery was +negatively charged with some sort of "personal" electricity, and that +High-Pockets--having been hit by lightning--had a terrifically high +charge of positive electricity of the same sort, which enabled him to do +miraculous things on occasion with machinery--especially linecasting +machines. + +Well, I dismissed that as a bunch of talk, but what I didn't quite like +was the fact that High-Pockets traditionally appeared in places where he +was needed to straighten out things for the men. + + * * * * * + +I went into conference with Dr. Hudson, and he agreed with me that we +should go right ahead; but we'd keep an eye on High-Pockets Jones, and +at the first sign of interference Mr. Jones would find himself in a +great deal of trouble. I would even, I decided, stoop to having him +thrown in jail on a phony charge, if that should be necessary. + +By this time we had started on the Legal Printing Company job, and we +went ahead with our next offensive. Mind-reading came first. Dr. Hudson +installed a black box at the water-fountain, and he explained to the men +what it was for. He had a private wire to his desk, and a transformer +that turned the current from the box back into thoughts. It was quite +efficient. Some of the thoughts we got the first day were vituperative, +some were quite obscene, and some were pretty feeble, but that didn't +matter. It got the boys to worrying, and it saved us a bottle of spring +water a day. + +Then there was the installation of the lucite piping. Of course seeing +in curves had been possible for years, but never on this scale. We piped +lucite to every place where a man worked, and so we could throw a switch +in the inner office and check on every man in the shop without their +knowing it. That was a very clever device; it really put the men on the +spot. + +Once in a while, when I needed to relax, I would flip a switch and throw +High-Pockets Jones' machine on the screen. The smooth rhythm of those +flowing hands was more soothing than a lullaby, especially because I +knew how much type they were getting up. + +Then we advanced to the third step in our strategy: having a man in two +places at once. + +Dr. Hudson finished making his cabinet filled with coils and +transformers and condensers and circuits I'd never heard of, and we set +it up in the composing-room one night. + +It was that night that full realization hit me that we had set only two +hundred galleys of type out of the two thousand on the Legal Printing +Company job, and that there were only two weeks left to get it out. +Somehow or other, I had let it slip by. I thought Dr. Hudson was +watching those things; I had been busy trying to make an impression for +the receivers. + +I was sick when I figured it all out. We had six machines. If we should +run those six machines two shifts a day, our capacity was about three +hundred and sixty galleys a week. Into eighteen hundred that goes +considerably more than two times. We would need five weeks of full +production--and we couldn't possibly give it full production; we had +other jobs, too. + +The only hope was Dr. Hudson's new machine. + +The next day the electricians hooked it up to a twelve-hundred-volt +feed-line, and by noon it was ready to go. At twelve-thirty, as soon as +the men punched in, I called them together. This was on office time, of +course, so there couldn't be any squawk. Dr. Hudson was there to +explain. I never had fully realized how much of him was nose before I +watched him that day. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "this is nothing to be afraid of. This is merely +a modern device to assure continuous production in the composing-room by +eliminating lost time from sickness and accidents. As you know, if a +linotype operator is ill, his machine goes untouched. That day's +production is lost. At a cost per man of around ten dollars an hour, +that represents a considerable loss." + +He opened the cabinet and showed them a comfortable leather seat inside. + +"There are two compartments in this cabinet," he said. "All this machine +does is to produce, temporarily, an extra man to fill the sick man's +place. One of the men present steps in here; I close the door, see that +the machine is charged here on the other side with plenty of linotype +metal to provide the material of atomic synthesis, press the button, and +lo!--the man in the chair is duplicated on the other side of the +cabinet." + +High-Pockets Jones stepped forward with his deep eyes fixed on Dr. +Hudson. "What," High-Pockets asked, "is your theory of this machine?" + +Dr. Hudson smiled. "I am glad you asked that, Mr. Jones. Very glad. This +process is in no sense a separation or thinning out of the man in the +chair. It is, in reality; an unusual extension of the well-known fact +that nature tends to follow a pattern. If you want to make a synthetic +sapphire, you start with a seed sapphire, and the artificial process +builds up on that. Now, this machine, which I call an extender, is +merely a far-reaching extension of the synthesis of precious stones." + +"By use of a revolutionary type of three-dimensional scanner, which was +invented by myself," he said modestly, "I am able to focus on a certain +object from a certain distance and, if there is material at hand, +synthesize an exact duplicate of the original from the scanner. It +doesn't hurt the original in any way. You merely have two where you had +but one." + +The men stood around bug-eyed and stared incredulously--all but +High-Pockets. "Is the second one alive?" he asked. "I mean, would you +say it has a soul?" + +"That," said Dr. Hudson crisply, "is out of my field. I suggest you +consult your spiritual adviser." + +The chairman stepped up, "You have tried this thing, have you?" + +"Thoroughly tested," said Dr. Hudson. + +I refrained from smiling. The printers were flabbergasted; they didn't +know what to do or think. The chairman was trying to get his poor +fogged brain together with arguments. The only person besides myself and +Dr. Hudson who seemed to be at ease was the barnstormer, High-Pocket +Jones. + +"In-other words," High-Pockets said, "if we are short an operator, I can +walk in that cabinet and you can in a few minutes make another +High-Pockets Jones, who will set type until you put him back into the +cabinet and turn him back into a hundred and sixty pounds of linotype +metal?" + +"Precisely." Dr. Hudson smiled and showed his teeth. I could see he was +losing his patience. + +"Well," said High-Pockets, "I can see about nine hundred legal questions +right off the bat. Who is going to draw the duplicate's pay? Is the +duplicate entitled to a union card? Is he entitled to overtime? Is he a +man or an automaton?" + +"Sorry," said Dr. Hudson. "I am not a legal expert." + + * * * * * + +High-Pockets walked up to the cabinet and looked inside. I'd swear he +looked as if he knew what all those wires were there for. His deep eyes +took it all in, and then he announced in his booming voice from far +above us. "You're waiting for a volunteer," he said. "I'll be first." + +I practically fell over. I think even Dr. Hudson was dumbfounded; we had +not expected unconditional surrender. I was elated. + +High-Pockets Jones was seated in the cabinet. Dr. Hudson threw the +switch. After five minutes' humming, a relay clicked. Dr. Hudson opened +the door. High-Pockets Jones, with a deep smile on his weatherbeaten +face, unfolded his long legs and stepped out, holding his head down to +keep from hitting the top of the door-frame. + +"How do you feel?" asked Dr. Hudson. + +"Excellent," boomed High-Pockets, straightening up. + +The physicist went around to the other side, and though I had been +watching these experiments for some time, I give you my word I very +nearly choked on my own tongue when I saw High-Pockets Jones walk out of +the second compartment. + +The second High-Pockets produced a worn bill-fold and extracted a pink +union permit. + +"I protest this inhuman manipulation of a man's individuality," said the +chairman indignantly; "this is outrageous." + +I felt better now. I'd been waiting for that. "Let him go to work," I +said. "We need an operator today, anyway; Bill Smith has the flu. I +will guarantee to pay a man's wages to whomever you say, if this is +found to be illegal." + +Under the law, there wasn't much they could do. And I had already taken +the precaution of retaining the best legal counsel in the city. + +I was elated when they went to work. I pumped Dr. Hudson's hand and +assured him that we had indeed made spectacular history, and together we +could make millions. + +The first trouble came an hour later. One of the High-Pocketses--I +couldn't tell which one--came into the office. "The foreman sent me up +to get some work," he said in his booming voice. + +I frowned. What was going on back there? I went back, High-Pockets Jones +was working on his own machine. High-Pockets Jones was also working on +Bill Smith's machine. I looked up quickly. High-Pockets Jones was also +standing beside me. + +He smiled. "Catching, isn't it?" + +I swallowed, but I knew they were playing tricks. High-Pockets Jones had +walked into the cabinet a second time, and his double had worked the +controls and produced a third. Well, this could get confusing, but I +stayed calm. "You're a floor-man, too, aren't you?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Okay. You go back to the Monotype room and get a bunch of slugs and +leads and saw them up to fill the cases. They're getting pretty low." + +"Yes, sir." He turned and went away. + +When I got back to the office I thought I'd just turn on the lucite and +see what they might be up to next. I had an uneasy feeling. + +Sure enough, a High-Pockets Jones was stepping out of the second +compartment of the cabinet. I gulped and quickly checked the others. +This was the fourth one. + +I went back to raise hell, but High-Pockets--well, one of them--was +quite calm about it. "Two men can do it faster than one," he said. + +I licked my lips and beat my brains, but I didn't know the answer. I +went back to think it over. I had just decided to laugh it off when +three High-Pockets Joneses came into the office. + +"We need something to do," they said, all in that great booming voice +that seemed to come from the ceiling. + +"See the foreman. Tell him to give you all the standing type that needs +to be distributed." + +They left. I breathed a sigh of relief and sent out for a padlock to put +on the cabinet. + + * * * * * + +An hour later, with a nice, shiny new padlock, I went back to the +composing-room. But I very nearly fainted when I saw the activity going +on back there. The composing-room was filled with High-Pockets Joneses. + +Two still were at the linecasting machines, and a whole crew of others +were running around the floor. + +"Where's the foreman?" I barked. + +High-Pockets Jones--one of them--came to attention. "He went home. He +was quite discouraged; he told us to throw in all the standing type we +could find." + +It didn't look good. I had the feeling that High-Pockets was laughing at +me--this High-Pockets, anyway. + +That reminded me. I gathered up all the High-Pocketses in the +composing-room and lined them up. There were nine--exactly nine--every +one of them over seven feet tall and thin as a sidestick, every one of +them with a gentle, booming voice. + +I wanted to tell the original High-Pockets to gather them all up and put +them back together, but I didn't know how to find the original. + +Well, they couldn't get me down. I fooled them. I told them all to take +the rest of the day off--at full pay. + +All nine of them washed up together and left together. It was the +damnedest thing I ever saw offstage. Nine identical High-Pocketses--all +so tall they had to weave around the neon lights instead of ducking +under them. It was enough to give a man nightmares, to watch that line +of High-Pockets Joneses advancing across an open composing-room. + +This kind of thing went on the next day, and the next. Every day there +were nine High-Pockets Joneses in the composing-room. Everybody was +falling over everybody else, when they weren't standing around laughing +up their sleeves. + +There was nothing I could do. I had been forced to turn over all of my +house to eight of the High-Pocketses, because they had to have a place +to stay, and after all, I was responsible for them. + +Our production went up a little, but the Legal Printing Company job was +hardly touched. There was too much of that sort of festive spirit in the +air; everybody was watching the High-Pocketses and waiting to see what +would happen next--and hoping for something extravagant. In other words, +they refused to take it seriously; to them, it was a circus. + +I didn't have the nerve to ask anybody else to split. After all, +High-Pockets was in nine places at once; that should have been enough. +It was apparent by that time that the extender would never be anything +in a printing office but a psychological monstrosity. + +I had to admit I was stymied, and I got so I didn't give a whoop. I was +sunk anyway. That is the way it went that week. On Saturday night Dr. +Hudson and I got beautifully soused. + + * * * * * + +On Monday morning I didn't care. The Legal Printing Company called up +and said they could give us a few more days; if they could have it by +Friday, they could still make the filing date. I said we'd do everything +possible, and then I hung up and laughed bitterly and aloud. We couldn't +get it out if we had another month. The only thing was, as soon as our +plant closed up, they could ask the court for an extension because of +unforeseen circumstances, and probably get it. So I laughed aloud. + +I saw Dr. Hudson cleaning out his desk, and I nodded. "Sorry, Doc, we +got all fouled up. Maybe some other time--" + +He nodded. "Progress always encounters opposition," he said. "It just +happens that we are the sacrifices in this deal." + +"Yeah." I went out and had a drink. + +I was pretty dazed that week. It didn't make any difference. I had +already tried everything possible, and they had me hog-tied. And those +nine High-Pocketses had made me a laughing-stock. + +On Friday morning, I looked at the calendar and it suddenly occurred to +me that this was the thirty-first and the receivers would be around this +afternoon to decide whether or not to close the place. + +There wasn't any doubt as to what they would do. I began to clean out my +own desk. I felt terrible. + +Then one of the High-Pocketses came in with a piece of copy in his hand. +He looked at me queerly and then said softly, "You leaving?" + +"Yes," I said bitterly, "I'm going. You got me licked; I'm through." + +"I was just trying to point out to you the absurdity of some of your new +devices," he said. + +"Okay," I said, "you win. Guys like you make a business of going around +the country breaking print-shops and printing-office managers." + +High-Pockets' booming voice came from the ceiling. "You are mistaken. I +did not try to break you." + +"Well, you broke me, anyway." I blurted out the whole thing to him, how +the receivers were about to close us up, how the Legal Printing Company +job was weeks behind and was supposed to be delivered today. Then I +apologized. "It isn't your fault," I told him. "I'm sorry. I didn't +mean that. I just--well, I wanted to make good on this job." + +High-Pockets was very thoughtful. "I feel kind of sorry for you," he +said. + +"Oh, you don't need to. I earned it; I've got it coming. I was just a +little too ambitious, that's all. I didn't know a man could be _too_ +ambitious." + +High-Pockets looked at me. His deep eyes were thoughtful. I could almost +see the neurons buzzing around in his head. + +"If I could get this job out for you on time, would that save the day?" + +"Probably." I laughed--or tried to. "But it is now a physical +impossibility. There isn't enough time." + +High-Pockets said sharply, "Call a truck," and wheeled out of the +office. + +I called the delivery truck before I realized what I had done. Well, it +didn't make any difference. They could start hauling out the machinery. + +I finished cleaning out my desk and took a wastebasket full of papers to +the back shop. + +And there, I give you my word, three High-Pocketses were busy carrying +galleys from the type-dump to the proof-press. And as fast as they could +carry a galley of type from the dump, another galley would just +materialize there. I stood and stared. Galleys of type were coming out +of thin air at the rate of about four galleys a minute. + +I went over to where High-Pockets--the original High-Pockets, I +suppose--was sitting at his machine. "Would you please tell me what is +going on?" I asked. + +"Well," said High-Pockets, "it isn't so complicated. I just sent the +other five back in time to set this job, that's all. They've gone back +about twelve weeks; and of course there isn't much time, so I had to +make them double up. I've got them split up into shifts, along with a +double of the chairman there, to cover the six machines. It's a little +hard to explain, whether they are split up in time, or the time-split +ones are split up in place, or just what." + +"It's insane," I said weakly. + +"Well, at any rate, you see you have the equivalent of twelve night +shifts running at once, plus twelve graveyard shifts. That's twenty-four +times six--you have six machines--times twelve--that's the number of +galleys a day for each machine. I think it comes out to seventeen +hundred for a day's work." + + * * * * * + +I grabbed hold of the vise-locking screw to keep my knees from doubling +under me. It was incredible--and yet it was true. + +High-Pockets also had organized the proofreaders and copyholders, and +they were reading in the past also, and sending us proofs in the +present. If anybody ever tells you they can't get seventeen hundred +galleys of type a day out of six linecasting machines--well, they just +don't know High-Pockets Jones. + +"Of course," he said apologetically, "they'll want to be paid." + +I was practically hysterical by that time. "I'll see that they get +overtime for every hour they put in." + +High-Pockets looked at me with his deep eyes. "Me, too," he said. I +laughed when I thought how there were nine of him working in twelve +places at once--or was it twenty-four--or maybe forty-eight. I was too +dizzy by that time to figure out anything. I only knew the job was going +to be delivered. The truckers were going in a steady stream through the +back door. + +Maybe the receivers would close up the place; maybe they wouldn't. At +least the job was being delivered. + +About four-thirty, the galleys suddenly quit coming; the job was +finished. Half an hour later it was out of the shop, and I had entered +it on the books. + +I had hardly laid down the pen when the three receivers came in. They +smoked a little and talked and I held my breath while they looked at the +books. I couldn't figure out what they were going to do. + +One of them whistled when he saw the Legal Printing Company figures. +"Well," he said, "business _has_ been good." + +"Fair," I said modestly. + +The door to the shop opened and High-Pockets Jones walked in. I gulped; +eight High-Pockets Joneses walked in behind him. + +The three receivers stared. Their eyes stuck out until it was ludicrous. +But it wasn't funny; I knew something was going to happen now. + +By the time the last High-Pockets got in, the first receiver had seen +what was going on and was trying to get out, but nine High-Pocketses in +one room are a lot. For a minute it looked like a basketball game. + +The elder lawyer looked at me suspiciously. "Please explain this." + +I was too weak. "See for yourself," I said. + +One High-Pockets spoke to me. "Sorry, Mr. Shane. Just came in to say +good-bye. Never realized--" + +"That's okay," I said. "You've done your part; I can't squawk." + +The attorney spoke up. "Mr. Shane," he said, "I think the affairs of +the Imperial Printing Company are in perilous circumstances. I do not +know what is the meaning of this, but certainly there is something here +without precedent." And if you know lawyers, you know that anything +without precedent is very unholy. + +I told what we had done, but he was interested in only one thing. "Think +what a combined suit by these nine-er-twins here would do." + +"Nontuplets," suggested one High-Pockets. + +"Why"--the lawyer seemed to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the +damages he was visualizing--"that could amount to millions." + +I was desperate for an idea, but it wasn't any use. They were taking it +out of my hands. I saw the righteous light in the eyes of those men, and +I knew it was all over. + +But High-Pockets--or one of him--spoke up. "Is it your intention," he +asked me, "to keep the time-machine and the extender?" + +"No," I said. "I rather thought I'd get rid of the whole business; it's +much too complicated. Anyway, you boys out there came through with +superhuman efforts this afternoon. I don't think I'd ask you to be in +two places at once again." + +High-Pockets turned to the lawyer. "If the receivers agree to let the +plant operate as long as it shows a profit," he said, "we'll all go back +together and then you can break up the extender and there won't be any +more trouble. If you don't agree to that"--he paused--"we'll stay in +nine bodies and sue you every time we get a chance." + +The lawyer winced. The receivers went into conference. Finally they +said, a little anxiously, "If the Messiers High-Pockets will be good +enough to go back together, and if Mr. Shane will destroy the machine, +we are agreeable to the plant's continuance as a printing office." + +"Hooray!" I said, and nine High-Pocketses yelled hooray. + +I was exultant. I shook hands with each one of the High-Pocketses as +they filed into the extender. When there was only one left; he shook +hands with me. + +"What's the matter?" I asked. + +"Nothing at all," said High-Pockets Jones. "Just got a call this morning +from a print-shop where they're trying to make the men wear +roller-skates so they can move faster. Guess they need me down there. So +long, boss." + +"So long," I said. I was sorry to see him go. I locked up the shop--but +first I cut off all the power and got a pig and smashed up Dr. Hudson's +coils and transformers. I wanted to come down in the morning without +seeing double. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Nine Men in Time, by Noel Miller Loomis + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK NINE MEN IN TIME *** + +***** This file should be named 33872.txt or 33872.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/8/7/33872/ + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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