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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1108d60 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50989 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50989) diff --git a/old/50989-h.zip b/old/50989-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index cdaf545..0000000 --- a/old/50989-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50989-h/50989-h.htm b/old/50989-h/50989-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index cbf6368..0000000 --- a/old/50989-h/50989-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1151 +0,0 @@ -<!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=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Nostalgia Gene, by Roy Hutchins. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -.caption {font-weight: bold;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1, .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } -.ph1 { font-size: xx-large; margin: .67em auto; } -.ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } -.ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } -.ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nostalgia Gene, by Roy Hutchins - -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/license - - -Title: The Nostalgia Gene - -Author: Roy Hutchins - -Release Date: January 21, 2016 [EBook #50989] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NOSTALGIA GENE *** - - - - -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" width="396" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>The Nostalgia Gene</h1> - -<p>By ROY HUTCHINS</p> - -<p>Illustrated by COUGHLIN</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Science Fiction November 1954.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3"><i>If you cannot get the "good old days" out of your mind,<br /> -there is only one person to blame—Edgar's grandmother!</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Folks who knew Edgar Evans said he was a strange young man. Certainly -he was the darling of the old ladies and the despair of the young. -The sternest fathers positively beamed when Edgar called for their -daughters, but fellows his own age declared in the authoritative tones -of youth that Edgar was a square.</p> - -<p>Handsome enough he was. The real reason for all the fuss was Edgar's -manners. The trouble was that he had them.</p> - -<p>For Edgar had been orphaned at four by an Oklahoma tornado and raised -by his Hoosier grandmother, a dear old lady whose hand had once been -kissed by a passing Barrymore. The result was Edgar's manners. He -realized, of course, that one didn't kiss a lady's hand these days, but -such was Edgar's gracious way that women always got the impression he -was about to.</p> - -<p>One parent, in something of a trance after encountering Edgar, summed -up the reaction.</p> - -<p>"That kid," he told his wife dazedly, "akshully called me 'sir.' Them -other punks come aroun' afta Milly, they call me 'Mac.' Too bad that -there Edgar was born fifty years too late."</p> - -<p>Before very long, Edgar came to the same conclusion.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He knew a good many young men, but none he could call friend. The bop -talk which fascinated them seemed to him a repulsive travesty upon -English, just as their favorite music sounded like the braying of asses -in agony.</p> - -<p>Many girls were willing enough when Edgar asked for a first date, but -an amazing number of them developed ill health when he suggested a -second evening of classical records or good conversation.</p> - -<p>The girls themselves could not be blamed if they mistook his courtly -approach for a new dreamy line. Alas, the very hearts which fluttered -at his old-world chivalry grew icy when no pass was made. A girl wants -to <i>know</i> her charms are appreciated.</p> - -<p>So Edgar sank more deeply into himself. He recalled his grandmother's -stories about life and living back near the end of the century, when -folks knew how to be pleasant and kind.</p> - -<p>Even at his job—he was a technician in an electronic lab—Edgar -couldn't stop longing for that era when existence had been more gentle, -simple and leisurely. His social life virtually ceased.</p> - -<p>"Man, you ain't livin'," said one of the technicians he worked with. -"We're gonna buzz a few dives tonight. Why not drag it along with us?"</p> - -<p>Edgar blanched. "Thank you just the same, but I—I have some work to -do."</p> - -<p>After a while, naturally, they stopped asking.</p> - -<p>He continued to dream hopelessly, miserably, but one day he was -yanked out of it by—of all people—a military man. The brass were -on inspection tour and the lab's Chief Engineer was apologizing for -a faulty run of synchros which had occurred some time ago, when the -Brigadier snorted.</p> - -<p>"What's past is finished. I'm interested in five years from now!"</p> - -<p>Edgar found himself staring fixedly at a top secret gadget still in the -breadboard stage.</p> - -<p>"Great heaven!" he thought. "I have a fixation. This isn't doing me any -good."</p> - -<p>But what would? Suppose, instead of dreaming, he spent time actually -working toward what he wanted most?</p> - -<p>Here in the lab, he helped to build amazing machines, things which -daily did the impossible. He no longer marveled at what could be done -with electronics and, more important, he knew the methods and the -details.</p> - -<p>That was when Edgar decided to build a time machine.</p> - -<p>It was two months before he touched a transformer or a capacitor and -during that period he did nothing but try to answer the question, <i>What -is time?</i> How could he overcome it or change its flow or whatever had -to be done?</p> - -<p>He read everything he could find on the subject from Dr. Cagliostro to -Dr. Einstein without gaining much insight. Many a midnight, when his -neck muscles ached from trying to hold up his throbbing head, he caught -himself dreaming of grandmother's wonderful stories. And every time he -forced himself furiously back to the books, but he couldn't stop the -nostalgia entirely. It was in him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Eventually, Edgar came to think of time as an infinite series through -which the Universe was constantly expanding. Something like a set of -stop-motion photos taken microseconds apart, each complete, the changes -becoming apparent only when they are viewed in sequence. He was wrong, -of course, but that was unimportant.</p> - -<p>Time must therefore be a function of human motion and consciousness, -Edgar reasoned, and that <i>was</i> important.</p> - -<p>"That's it!" he exclaimed, and then apologized gracefully to the -elderly gentleman glaring across the library table.</p> - -<p>Now that he knew what his time machine must do, he could begin -building, adapting circuits, experimenting. Obviously, consciousness -could move forward through the series only; hence, consciousness must -be completely suspended, as in death, to move back in time.</p> - -<p>It required some heartbreaking months for Edgar to learn that brain -waves couldn't be stopped, but that the simple trick of introducing -random electrical noise suspended all the brain functions.</p> - -<p>"Fudge!" cursed Edgar, thinking of the wasted time.</p> - -<p>Only a man filled with the longing which obsessed Edgar could have -found the aching perseverance and brain-wrenching ingenuity the job -needed. Only a man driven by a terrible master that rode in his glands.</p> - -<p>But four months later, he stood with his hand on a switch, sweating -with nervous excitement as he eyed the spot from which a live rabbit -had just disappeared. The rabbit was on the table, but he was there an -hour ago and Edgar was here now, so the table appeared empty.</p> - -<p>He pressed another switch and there was the bunny, wriggling its soft -nose in perplexity, but perfectly healthy. Edgar's own trip, of course, -would be strictly one way since the machine stayed in the present. -He could be brought back only if he stepped into its field on a date -for which the machine was set and he had absolutely no intention of -venturing near this vicinity again, once his aim was accomplished.</p> - -<p>He thought about arranging a small explosive charge to blow the -equipment to what he thought of as The Hot Place. It seemed to him, -however, that there was some kind of law against that sort of thing. -Besides, even if the machine should come to the attention of the -authorities, who would know what it was? He could devise a mechanical -scrambler to change all the control settings once he was gone, and it -was unlikely that anyone could operate it again.</p> - -<p>Most likely the landlady would simply sell it for junk, especially if -he left owing her a week's rent. The idea hurt his conscience.</p> - -<p>"I know!" he exclaimed to himself. "I'll buy a bank check and arrange -to have the bank mail it to her a month after I've left!"</p> - -<p>He felt much better about that.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Three weeks later, Edgar Evans was the newest boarder at Mrs. -Peterson's, on Elm Avenue in Greencastle, Indiana. He had arrived on -April 3, 1893, the day after Easter, and already he was being referred -to as "that nice young man staying at Emma's."</p> - -<p>Edgar snuggled into the life of the '90s like a showgirl into mink. He -went to work as a clerk in Cloud's Emporium and was soon regarded as -logical choice for the next manager. Anxious mamas filled his evenings -with dinner invitations and "at homes" and he had a dazzling choice of -partners for the numerous socials.</p> - -<p>Edgar waltzed his partners with zest and propriety, contributed a -determined tenor at parlor sings, and sampled dozens of cakes and pies -baked by maidens bent on winning his heart via the traditional route. -And always he had a gracious compliment, an appropriate phrase for -every situation.</p> - -<p>Within a month, the entire feminine population of Greencastle was his -for the asking, though he'd never have recognized nor admitted the -fact. The men sought his company, too, and even asked his advice on how -to win their girls back from him. Edgar, almost sick with happiness, -told them, of course.</p> - -<p>On the eleventh of November, he was sick with something else. He went -to bed with a fever right after getting home from the Emporium, Mrs. -Peterson hovering helplessly with offers of hot broth or tea. But Edgar -felt hot and dry and his side hurt when he breathed.</p> - -<p>"I don't want anything ... thank you," he gasped politely.</p> - -<p>By the next noon, when the alarmed Emma Peterson had Dr. Ward in, Edgar -was barely conscious. Dr. Ward frowned, ordered hot water bottles and -gave Edgar a huge dose of hot whiskey with lemon.</p> - -<p>"Penicillin, please," whispered Edgar painfully. "Or sulfa. It's -pneumonia, isn't it?"</p> - -<p>"Poor fellow's delirious," said the doctor to Mrs. Peterson.</p> - -<p>Edgar realized dimly that he had made a blunder, but that no one would -know. Then the fever took over and he blanked out.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Dr. Ward claimed ever afterward that clean living was what pulled -Edgar through—the fact that he wasn't conditioned to liquor gave the -medicinal whiskey virgin ground to work in.</p> - -<p>All Edgar knew was that he came to and found himself so weak that he -could scarcely speak. Mrs. Peterson and her daughter, Marta, bustled -in and out to care for him. He hadn't paid particular attention to -Marta before, but in the days of lying helpless and being literally -spoon-fed, he began to know her very well.</p> - -<p>Marta was a plain girl, he had thought, but he had never seen her -private smile before. Marta was rather dumpy, he had thought, but he -had never watched her bend to pick something up or twist to reach -for a medicine bottle. Her dresses, he discovered, were deliberately -all wrong for her—Mrs. Peterson had no intention of disturbing her -boarders unnecessarily.</p> - -<p>In the shocking intimacy of his bedroom, Edgar was increasingly -disturbed. Marta was unfailingly cheerful, eager to wait on him. Every -half-hour, he heard her step in the hall.</p> - -<p>"Hello!" Marta would say, sweeping lightly to his bedside. "How's our -patient now? Feeling better? Oh, dear, do let me just straighten that -sheet. It's all wrinkled. Would you like some milk or some fruit?"</p> - -<p>"Not right now, thank you—perhaps a little later," Edgar would reply, -fixing his gaze determinedly on the window or the ceiling while she -bent over his bed, disturbingly rounded and disastrously close.</p> - -<p>And as Edgar's recovery progressed, Mrs. Peterson dropped more and more -into the background. On the day Dr. Ward said he might try sitting up -for a while, it was Marta who stood by for the experiment.</p> - -<p>Edgar started nobly, made about a foot of arc by himself and faltered. -Instantly, it seemed, Marta's arm was around his shoulders and a firm, -warm projection cushioned his cheek.</p> - -<p>He very nearly collapsed, but she sat him up.</p> - -<p>Three days later, he held her hand for a moment and, though she -blushed, she didn't draw it away in a hurry.</p> - -<p>After a proper interval, their engagement was announced. Half the -maidens in Greencastle wept in the privacy of their pillows that night.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Edgar had had a serious problem and solved it. He had found the right -girl and married her. This should be the end of his story and it would -be, except for two things—Edgar's gene and the date of his birth.</p> - -<p>Edgar's gene came from his grandmother via his father. The stories that -gentle old lady told her orphaned grandson were the only outlet she -had for her own powerful urge to turn back the times. And there had -always been someone in the family who bemoaned the passing of the good -old days, so strongly and constantly as to bore others to the verge of -violence.</p> - -<p>Back even a few decades, no carrier of the nostalgia gene had any -outlet but conversation and dreams. Edgar, though, was born to an age -where science provided the knowledge and the equipment for him to find -the practical solution.</p> - -<p>If Edgar's gene had carried any other trait, red hair, placidity or -hemophilia, for instance, or if it had been recessive instead of -dominant, this might have been a very different world. But the result -was inevitable from the moment of Edgar's birth and the chain of events -that proved it was as flawless as the steps of Gauss's theorem.</p> - -<p>He prospered after he and Marta were married. In three short years, he -was made manager of Cloud's Emporium and just before that, Marta had -surprised him with a daughter—surprised him because he was certain of -a son. He wasn't inclined to be stubborn about it, however, and when -the child put a pudgy little hand up to his cheek in a gesture that was -probably caused by reflex or gas pains, he was completely won.</p> - -<p>When little Emma reached three, she was incurably addicted to bedtime -stories, though only those concerning knights in armor and their -ladies fair. Edgar grew to hate the names of Arthur and Galahad, but -if he tried to tell a different story, his daughter had her own way -of stopping him. Rearing back in his arms, she merely shrieked, "Ting -Arfur, Ting Arfur!" until she turned blue, at which point Edgar always -gave in.</p> - -<p>There was no doubt that little Emma had inherited the gene.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In 1906, old Cloud made Edgar a full partner in the Emporium and just -eleven years later, little Emma wrote home from New York City with the -shocking news that she was engaged to a doughboy from Brooklyn.</p> - -<p>Edgar and Marta rushed East to unmask the scoundrel, praying they would -be in time to save Emma's honor.</p> - -<p>The scoundrel, when unmasked, was a mechanic with weak eyes and a -passion for poetry, who was completely miserable in the infantry. His -manners were acceptable and he had enough intelligence to let Edgar -beat him thoroughly at cribbage, whereupon Edgar offered to finance the -opening of a garage in Greencastle if the young folks would move back -there when Jim's hitch in the Army was finished.</p> - -<p>"Emma is all we have," said Edgar in his classic style. "It's -quite lonesome back home for Mother and me since she's been in the -city. We—well, we should like to know that you and, later on, our -grandchildren will be settling in a home near us."</p> - -<p>Emma blushed and Jim tried to dig the toe of his boot into a crack -between the floorboards.</p> - -<p>"Besides," added Edgar, becoming aware of Marta's look, "Greencastle -is a fine town and right up with the times. I think a garage will do a -fine business there."</p> - -<p>Jim was inclined to be reluctant, but Emma gave him a side-wise kick -and said of course they'd come home and settle. She gave Edgar a big -hug and a kiss and he beamed on everybody for the rest of the evening.</p> - -<p>A few months later, Jim's weak eyes caused him to pass a colonel -without saluting and, within days, he had a medical discharge. Emma and -the garage were waiting in Greencastle, so Jim took the first train.</p> - -<p>In '19 and in '21, Emma produced grandsons, delighting everyone and -especially Edgar. Emma herself was thoroughly puzzled when the boys -reached the age for bedtime stories; she discovered that they were not -particularly interested in tales of bold knights and fair ladies. She -would have been happy to recite the legends of Arthur every night, but -the boys, it seemed, preferred even poor poetry to a good, stirring -joust.</p> - -<p>Edgar privately decided that Jim's poetry gene had proved more -dominant than his own, which was perhaps just as well.</p> - -<p>Though not interested in making a fortune, Edgar nevertheless did well -financially, using his knowledge of the '20s as an investment guide. -Jim's garage prospered and he opened another, while his father-in-law -multiplied his spare cash in the stock market. In July of 1929, Edgar -suddenly retrenched for both of them, went bearish and arranged to sell -short a number of important shares. The entire family protested that he -was losing his mind, but Edgar was firm. By November first, they were -amazed, horrified and rich.</p> - -<p>The following year, Emma gave Jim the daughter he had wanted. And, -within three years, it was apparent to Edgar that tiny Susan carried -the gene. From the first time Grandpa experimentally told her a story -of the '90s, she wanted no others. Her mother found this also rather -difficult to understand, but at least the '90s were in the past, which -was better than poetry.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>On a day in 1935, Edgar found himself pondering with a fierce -intentness he had not used since 1959, when he built the time machine. -Today, August fifth, was his 66th birthday—but it was also the day he -was born.</p> - -<p>It was impossible <i>not</i> to wonder. Forty-two years ago (or twenty-four -from now), he had not bothered to think about possible consequences, so -strong and simple had been his urge to go back. But today—would he, -the father of one and grandfather of three, be wiped out the instant -Edgar Evans was born? Or would no baby of that name be born in the tiny -Oklahoma town?</p> - -<p>He had been born in the morning and when this particular morning passed -like any other, Edgar felt considerably better. <i>Cogito, ergo sum</i>, he -thought. "I think, therefore I am—a comforting philosophy. But what -about the baby?"</p> - -<p>So Edgar, nervous but understandably curious, sent a discreetly worded -wire and learned before long that he had indeed been born on schedule. -The more he thought about it, the less reason he could see why it -should be otherwise. A baby born in another part of the country had -been given the same name as his. There was certainly no traceable -relationship. And nearly everyone has a namesake somewhere.</p> - -<p>Not wishing to be institutionalized, Edgar had never hinted to anyone, -not even Marta, the secret of his past. He had invented a convenient -and plausible history, but used it only when necessary, and then -sparingly. But now he was thinking of his granddaughter, Susan.</p> - -<p>Susan carried the gene. At five, she insisted on dressing her dolls in -the costumes of forty years ago. She would be 29 and thoroughly unhappy -by the time the young Edgar perfected and used his time machine.</p> - -<p>So Edgar wrote a letter, sealed it and gave it to his lawyers with -instructions that it was to be given to Susan on a certain date in -1959, provided she was still unmarried.</p> - -<p>Edgar passed away three years later with a well-bred smile on his face, -befitting the first man who ever cheated time. His last statement, -phrased as considerately as ever, was the hope that he wasn't causing -trouble by dying.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Susan, his granddaughter, grew into a pleasingly plump young woman in -an age where the ideal seemed to be total emaciation. She was not only -single but disillusioned and despairing when the lawyers looked her up -and gave her Edgar's letter.</p> - -<p>A good part of what Edgar had written sounded like confused mysticism, -warnings about upsetting the future and the like, but his instructions -were specific enough and she read them as if they were the lost book of -<i>Revelations</i>.</p> - -<p>By the next day, she had flown from San Francisco to New York and -gained entry to young Edgar Evans' room by telling his landlady she -was a distant relative. She disconnected the scrambler from the time -machine and reset the controls to put herself back in 1891. In her -haste, she forgot some of Edgar's instructions, with the result that -she landed not fittingly costumed, but bare as a bacchante, in the room -of a handsome young man from Louisiana.</p> - -<p>The young man, whose name was Hare, was too startled to be anything -but a Southern gentleman at the time. In less than a month, however, -he took her back to Baton Rouge for inspection by his family and, that -ordeal successfully weathered, Susan found herself with a husband.</p> - -<p>There is no need to follow all of Susan's life, which was happy, sad, -unique and filled with minor tragedies and triumphs, like any other -life. But Susan had four sons and gave the gene to each of them, and -their children received it in turn. Before she had thought it necessary -to pass the secret of the machine to Edgar's great-great-grandchildren, -Susan died, so the machine was not available to them.</p> - -<p>Not that it mattered—knowledge was available, for young Andover Hare -had studied electronics at M. I. T. In 1962, he built his own time -machine, which was a considerable improvement over Edgar's, since it -could select place as well as time. Andover contacted his brothers, -sisters and cousins, helped them make their arrangements and passed -them through to the times they selected. Being a considerate man, he -allowed several relatives by marriage to go along on this mass temporal -migration.</p> - -<p>They did not restrict themselves to the '90s. Some went back to the -1700s, two to the Italian Renaissance, and one adventurous cousin clear -to the Second Crusade. Andover himself decided he would like to know -Shakespeare and Ben Jonson. He was the last one through the machine -and he left a small, efficient detonator connected to it. Andover had -Edgar's gene, but not his compunctions.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Yes, we owe a lot to Edgar Evans. When Edgar was a grave and unchubby -one-year-old, pulling himself up on the furniture, <i>Gone With the -Wind</i> hit the populace right in the middle of their worries, vague -fears and faintly stirring desires to get out of their increasingly -complex world. The year was 1936, a year that also saw a period piece -movie that was one of the first in the inevitable deluge—<i>The Great -Ziegfeld</i> drew, as customers, many of the bearers of Edgar's gene, -enough to make a profit-conscious Hollywood see mint-green.</p> - -<p>The year neighbors searched the wreckage of Edgar's home to pull -him from under the body of his mother, hunched in a last protective -gesture, was the year that saw American history searched frantically -for movie material. It was '39 and <i>Dodge City</i> and <i>Union Pacific</i> -helped thousands of Edgar's descendants forget momentarily the distant -rumble of war. Historical novels were also helping to glamorize the -past.</p> - -<p>By the time Edgar had graduated from school, been rejected by -the Army and worked for a time, the cold war was well advanced. -Three generations were mind-sick with tensions and fears and -doubts—heart-sick with the impossible wish to roll back the years to -times of peaceful, neighborly, unfrenzied human living.</p> - -<p>Edgar did.</p> - -<p>And the next time, in 1959, Susan went back. For most of us, 1959 came -only once, the year of the crisis when the missiles had already been -launched from both sides before the astonishing "thieves' agreement" -was reached and the missiles were aimed into the sea.</p> - -<p>There could be nothing but relief for a few months after that, -but then the play on nerves began again, the tensions began their -unbearable rise.</p> - -<p>In 1962, Susan's grandchildren were funneled like sacks of coal through -Andover Hare's machine. There were eighteen of them and a group of -their descendants built another machine later the same year. The -following March, another group disappeared—a much larger one this -time. They spread the gene so widely that most of us bear it today.</p> - -<p>It was inevitable that we carry the seed of that desperate desire to -escape our own troubled times. And the urge makes living under this -doubly grinding pressure more anguished every day.</p> - -<p>How many times this week have <i>you</i> read or heard a piece of news and -wondered how much longer before the final, fatal mushrooms flare? How -many times has a video show, a movie, or even just a snapshot brought -the swift wish that you could be back there? How many times have the -"good old days" crept into your conversation, your thoughts?</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As this account began with Edgar Evans, so it shall end with Benjamin -Reeves. Not yet, but soon—it <i>must</i> be soon now.</p> - -<p>Like all truly wise men, Benjamin Reeves is a modest man. He's tall, -stooped a little, and his limbs are attached in that special loose way -that makes a man amble rather than walk, sprawl rather than sit. At -50-odd, he looks much more like a friendly janitor than a respected -research engineer.</p> - -<p>And the gene is particularly dominant in Benjamin.</p> - -<p>For eighteen years, he labored in the military vineyard, like so many -other scientists, designing computers and control systems for the -engineering section of a huge company, and finally heading up a study -group in the Dream Department. He liked that job. The dream boys were -the ones who sat around and thought about entirely new ways of doing -things. Compared to designing, it was like the difference between the -creative excitement of composing music and the drudgery of arranging it.</p> - -<p>But even while working on deadly machines for the future, Benjamin -couldn't stop dreaming about the past, any more than Edgar Evans had.</p> - -<p>Then, after eighteen years, Benjamin was fired. The military had asked -for a new study on the question of how many enemy missiles might get -through the early warning and intercept rings and reach the cities. -"What, specifically, can we do to protect our people?"</p> - -<p>When the study was finished, a huge brassbound conference was staged at -the lab and everybody was expectant.</p> - -<p>"We have a single recommendation," said Benjamin calmly, and they were -quiet, for Benjamin and his group were the big brains. "At the earliest -warning, tell everybody to run like hell!"</p> - -<p>So the lab fired him, though the public statement read that he was -"resigning to pursue independent research."</p> - -<p>Benjamin was shocked at first, and hurt, but dinner and party -invitations came as often as ever from his old associates, and their -wives went right on with that ancient game of trying to find the -"right" girl for the bachelor friend. He would never mention it, of -course, but the girls nowadays seemed too direct and aggressive for -him. They lacked that womanly modesty or engaging demureness that girls -reportedly had once possessed. He wished—</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Offers came in from other companies, but Benjamin had money enough for -a while and he began experimenting with some ideas. When his lawyer and -banker discovered he'd given away two new color TV circuits, however, -there was a blow-up and Benjamin found himself incorporated.</p> - -<p>It made no difference. He could still experiment as he pleased. He had -his many friends and constantly made more. If enough money rolled in -to make him moderately wealthy, let the lawyer worry about it. After -he came up with the Ben Reeves capacitor in 1961, his wealth was more -than moderate. That thumb-sized gadget delivered the power of a hundred -storage batteries and was the answer to a thousand engineering problems.</p> - -<p>All down the bad years, Benjamin had read the papers and wondered and -suffered through the tensions of the nerve war like the rest of us. -Perhaps it was a little worse for him, because he knew the classified -secrets, knew to the decimal point the percentage of missiles that -would get through our defenses. Steadily the urge grew stronger to get -out of this world gone suicidally awry.</p> - -<p>He had the money and he had the time. An efficient business manager -took care of the new plant that produced the Ben Reeves capacitor.</p> - -<p>He built his first machine in 1962, a month before Andover Hare took -his own near relatives back into time with him. But that wasn't enough -for Benjamin. He was a scientist where Andover was a student and Edgar -Evans an amateur experimenter. Benjamin couldn't forget the millions -who yearned with him.</p> - -<p>For Benjamin, the mere machine wasn't an answer. He went back through -the years himself, several times, but always he returned and worked -harder. And there came the day, a year ago, when his work shifted -suddenly to maps and population indices.</p> - -<p>If you live within 40 miles of the most populous cities, you should -know that somewhere in that city is a very plain suitcase which is at -once an answer to your prayers and to those strange nostalgic desires -you've felt. It may be in a rented room or a storage warehouse, or in -the attic of one of the many friends Benjamin Reeves has made.</p> - -<p>Wherever it is, you're under its influence, thanks to Benjamin's work. -And every other day now, in a closed-off room at the Ben Reeves plant, -technicians finish assembling another group of strange circuits which -goes into another plain suitcase to be sent to yet another city, chosen -on the basis of population vs. importance as a target.</p> - -<p>The technicians are learning speed. Be thankful for that, if you love -your fellow-man as Benjamin does. At first they turned out only one -machine a week; soon it will be one a day, then two, four.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="317" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Benjamin doesn't go out any more. He's always within hearing of the -receiver tuned to the warning networks, within reach of the red button -that will someday send out a coded signal.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Did you read about the situation in this morning's papers? It looks -like another crisis in the making and maybe this time neither side will -back down.</p> - -<p>Pray for a year's time, if you're the praying kind.</p> - -<p>But whenever the missiles come, Benjamin will press the red button at -the first warning. The temporal field lasts only a millisecond and the -missiles won't be stopped, of course—but every city with a suitcase -will be empty when they strike.</p> - -<p>If the crisis holds off for a year, Benjamin figures we'll all go -back together, each city and town to a different time, but all before -1900. It's hard to wait even a year when you have the gene gnawing and -nagging inside you....</p> - -<p>Edgar Evans, who started it, couldn't wait. Andover Hare refused to go -back alone. Benjamin Reeves, with the same gene, was unable to forget -what he told the military—run like hell!—and all the folks like us -who couldn't.</p> - -<p>So Benjamin found us the ultimate way to run, and to satisfy our dream -in the running. Not yet, but soon now.</p> - -<p><i>See you back there!</i></p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nostalgia Gene, by Roy Hutchins - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NOSTALGIA GENE *** - -***** This file should be named 50989-h.htm or 50989-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/9/8/50989/ - -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/license - - -Title: The Nostalgia Gene - -Author: Roy Hutchins - -Release Date: January 21, 2016 [EBook #50989] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NOSTALGIA GENE *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - The Nostalgia Gene - - By ROY HUTCHINS - - Illustrated by COUGHLIN - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Science Fiction November 1954. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - If you cannot get the "good old days" out of your mind, - there is only one person to blame--Edgar's grandmother! - - -Folks who knew Edgar Evans said he was a strange young man. Certainly -he was the darling of the old ladies and the despair of the young. -The sternest fathers positively beamed when Edgar called for their -daughters, but fellows his own age declared in the authoritative tones -of youth that Edgar was a square. - -Handsome enough he was. The real reason for all the fuss was Edgar's -manners. The trouble was that he had them. - -For Edgar had been orphaned at four by an Oklahoma tornado and raised -by his Hoosier grandmother, a dear old lady whose hand had once been -kissed by a passing Barrymore. The result was Edgar's manners. He -realized, of course, that one didn't kiss a lady's hand these days, but -such was Edgar's gracious way that women always got the impression he -was about to. - -One parent, in something of a trance after encountering Edgar, summed -up the reaction. - -"That kid," he told his wife dazedly, "akshully called me 'sir.' Them -other punks come aroun' afta Milly, they call me 'Mac.' Too bad that -there Edgar was born fifty years too late." - -Before very long, Edgar came to the same conclusion. - - * * * * * - -He knew a good many young men, but none he could call friend. The bop -talk which fascinated them seemed to him a repulsive travesty upon -English, just as their favorite music sounded like the braying of asses -in agony. - -Many girls were willing enough when Edgar asked for a first date, but -an amazing number of them developed ill health when he suggested a -second evening of classical records or good conversation. - -The girls themselves could not be blamed if they mistook his courtly -approach for a new dreamy line. Alas, the very hearts which fluttered -at his old-world chivalry grew icy when no pass was made. A girl wants -to _know_ her charms are appreciated. - -So Edgar sank more deeply into himself. He recalled his grandmother's -stories about life and living back near the end of the century, when -folks knew how to be pleasant and kind. - -Even at his job--he was a technician in an electronic lab--Edgar -couldn't stop longing for that era when existence had been more gentle, -simple and leisurely. His social life virtually ceased. - -"Man, you ain't livin'," said one of the technicians he worked with. -"We're gonna buzz a few dives tonight. Why not drag it along with us?" - -Edgar blanched. "Thank you just the same, but I--I have some work to -do." - -After a while, naturally, they stopped asking. - -He continued to dream hopelessly, miserably, but one day he was -yanked out of it by--of all people--a military man. The brass were -on inspection tour and the lab's Chief Engineer was apologizing for -a faulty run of synchros which had occurred some time ago, when the -Brigadier snorted. - -"What's past is finished. I'm interested in five years from now!" - -Edgar found himself staring fixedly at a top secret gadget still in the -breadboard stage. - -"Great heaven!" he thought. "I have a fixation. This isn't doing me any -good." - -But what would? Suppose, instead of dreaming, he spent time actually -working toward what he wanted most? - -Here in the lab, he helped to build amazing machines, things which -daily did the impossible. He no longer marveled at what could be done -with electronics and, more important, he knew the methods and the -details. - -That was when Edgar decided to build a time machine. - -It was two months before he touched a transformer or a capacitor and -during that period he did nothing but try to answer the question, _What -is time?_ How could he overcome it or change its flow or whatever had -to be done? - -He read everything he could find on the subject from Dr. Cagliostro to -Dr. Einstein without gaining much insight. Many a midnight, when his -neck muscles ached from trying to hold up his throbbing head, he caught -himself dreaming of grandmother's wonderful stories. And every time he -forced himself furiously back to the books, but he couldn't stop the -nostalgia entirely. It was in him. - - * * * * * - -Eventually, Edgar came to think of time as an infinite series through -which the Universe was constantly expanding. Something like a set of -stop-motion photos taken microseconds apart, each complete, the changes -becoming apparent only when they are viewed in sequence. He was wrong, -of course, but that was unimportant. - -Time must therefore be a function of human motion and consciousness, -Edgar reasoned, and that _was_ important. - -"That's it!" he exclaimed, and then apologized gracefully to the -elderly gentleman glaring across the library table. - -Now that he knew what his time machine must do, he could begin -building, adapting circuits, experimenting. Obviously, consciousness -could move forward through the series only; hence, consciousness must -be completely suspended, as in death, to move back in time. - -It required some heartbreaking months for Edgar to learn that brain -waves couldn't be stopped, but that the simple trick of introducing -random electrical noise suspended all the brain functions. - -"Fudge!" cursed Edgar, thinking of the wasted time. - -Only a man filled with the longing which obsessed Edgar could have -found the aching perseverance and brain-wrenching ingenuity the job -needed. Only a man driven by a terrible master that rode in his glands. - -But four months later, he stood with his hand on a switch, sweating -with nervous excitement as he eyed the spot from which a live rabbit -had just disappeared. The rabbit was on the table, but he was there an -hour ago and Edgar was here now, so the table appeared empty. - -He pressed another switch and there was the bunny, wriggling its soft -nose in perplexity, but perfectly healthy. Edgar's own trip, of course, -would be strictly one way since the machine stayed in the present. -He could be brought back only if he stepped into its field on a date -for which the machine was set and he had absolutely no intention of -venturing near this vicinity again, once his aim was accomplished. - -He thought about arranging a small explosive charge to blow the -equipment to what he thought of as The Hot Place. It seemed to him, -however, that there was some kind of law against that sort of thing. -Besides, even if the machine should come to the attention of the -authorities, who would know what it was? He could devise a mechanical -scrambler to change all the control settings once he was gone, and it -was unlikely that anyone could operate it again. - -Most likely the landlady would simply sell it for junk, especially if -he left owing her a week's rent. The idea hurt his conscience. - -"I know!" he exclaimed to himself. "I'll buy a bank check and arrange -to have the bank mail it to her a month after I've left!" - -He felt much better about that. - - * * * * * - -Three weeks later, Edgar Evans was the newest boarder at Mrs. -Peterson's, on Elm Avenue in Greencastle, Indiana. He had arrived on -April 3, 1893, the day after Easter, and already he was being referred -to as "that nice young man staying at Emma's." - -Edgar snuggled into the life of the '90s like a showgirl into mink. He -went to work as a clerk in Cloud's Emporium and was soon regarded as -logical choice for the next manager. Anxious mamas filled his evenings -with dinner invitations and "at homes" and he had a dazzling choice of -partners for the numerous socials. - -Edgar waltzed his partners with zest and propriety, contributed a -determined tenor at parlor sings, and sampled dozens of cakes and pies -baked by maidens bent on winning his heart via the traditional route. -And always he had a gracious compliment, an appropriate phrase for -every situation. - -Within a month, the entire feminine population of Greencastle was his -for the asking, though he'd never have recognized nor admitted the -fact. The men sought his company, too, and even asked his advice on how -to win their girls back from him. Edgar, almost sick with happiness, -told them, of course. - -On the eleventh of November, he was sick with something else. He went -to bed with a fever right after getting home from the Emporium, Mrs. -Peterson hovering helplessly with offers of hot broth or tea. But Edgar -felt hot and dry and his side hurt when he breathed. - -"I don't want anything ... thank you," he gasped politely. - -By the next noon, when the alarmed Emma Peterson had Dr. Ward in, Edgar -was barely conscious. Dr. Ward frowned, ordered hot water bottles and -gave Edgar a huge dose of hot whiskey with lemon. - -"Penicillin, please," whispered Edgar painfully. "Or sulfa. It's -pneumonia, isn't it?" - -"Poor fellow's delirious," said the doctor to Mrs. Peterson. - -Edgar realized dimly that he had made a blunder, but that no one would -know. Then the fever took over and he blanked out. - - * * * * * - -Dr. Ward claimed ever afterward that clean living was what pulled -Edgar through--the fact that he wasn't conditioned to liquor gave the -medicinal whiskey virgin ground to work in. - -All Edgar knew was that he came to and found himself so weak that he -could scarcely speak. Mrs. Peterson and her daughter, Marta, bustled -in and out to care for him. He hadn't paid particular attention to -Marta before, but in the days of lying helpless and being literally -spoon-fed, he began to know her very well. - -Marta was a plain girl, he had thought, but he had never seen her -private smile before. Marta was rather dumpy, he had thought, but he -had never watched her bend to pick something up or twist to reach -for a medicine bottle. Her dresses, he discovered, were deliberately -all wrong for her--Mrs. Peterson had no intention of disturbing her -boarders unnecessarily. - -In the shocking intimacy of his bedroom, Edgar was increasingly -disturbed. Marta was unfailingly cheerful, eager to wait on him. Every -half-hour, he heard her step in the hall. - -"Hello!" Marta would say, sweeping lightly to his bedside. "How's our -patient now? Feeling better? Oh, dear, do let me just straighten that -sheet. It's all wrinkled. Would you like some milk or some fruit?" - -"Not right now, thank you--perhaps a little later," Edgar would reply, -fixing his gaze determinedly on the window or the ceiling while she -bent over his bed, disturbingly rounded and disastrously close. - -And as Edgar's recovery progressed, Mrs. Peterson dropped more and more -into the background. On the day Dr. Ward said he might try sitting up -for a while, it was Marta who stood by for the experiment. - -Edgar started nobly, made about a foot of arc by himself and faltered. -Instantly, it seemed, Marta's arm was around his shoulders and a firm, -warm projection cushioned his cheek. - -He very nearly collapsed, but she sat him up. - -Three days later, he held her hand for a moment and, though she -blushed, she didn't draw it away in a hurry. - -After a proper interval, their engagement was announced. Half the -maidens in Greencastle wept in the privacy of their pillows that night. - - * * * * * - -Edgar had had a serious problem and solved it. He had found the right -girl and married her. This should be the end of his story and it would -be, except for two things--Edgar's gene and the date of his birth. - -Edgar's gene came from his grandmother via his father. The stories that -gentle old lady told her orphaned grandson were the only outlet she -had for her own powerful urge to turn back the times. And there had -always been someone in the family who bemoaned the passing of the good -old days, so strongly and constantly as to bore others to the verge of -violence. - -Back even a few decades, no carrier of the nostalgia gene had any -outlet but conversation and dreams. Edgar, though, was born to an age -where science provided the knowledge and the equipment for him to find -the practical solution. - -If Edgar's gene had carried any other trait, red hair, placidity or -hemophilia, for instance, or if it had been recessive instead of -dominant, this might have been a very different world. But the result -was inevitable from the moment of Edgar's birth and the chain of events -that proved it was as flawless as the steps of Gauss's theorem. - -He prospered after he and Marta were married. In three short years, he -was made manager of Cloud's Emporium and just before that, Marta had -surprised him with a daughter--surprised him because he was certain of -a son. He wasn't inclined to be stubborn about it, however, and when -the child put a pudgy little hand up to his cheek in a gesture that was -probably caused by reflex or gas pains, he was completely won. - -When little Emma reached three, she was incurably addicted to bedtime -stories, though only those concerning knights in armor and their -ladies fair. Edgar grew to hate the names of Arthur and Galahad, but -if he tried to tell a different story, his daughter had her own way -of stopping him. Rearing back in his arms, she merely shrieked, "Ting -Arfur, Ting Arfur!" until she turned blue, at which point Edgar always -gave in. - -There was no doubt that little Emma had inherited the gene. - - * * * * * - -In 1906, old Cloud made Edgar a full partner in the Emporium and just -eleven years later, little Emma wrote home from New York City with the -shocking news that she was engaged to a doughboy from Brooklyn. - -Edgar and Marta rushed East to unmask the scoundrel, praying they would -be in time to save Emma's honor. - -The scoundrel, when unmasked, was a mechanic with weak eyes and a -passion for poetry, who was completely miserable in the infantry. His -manners were acceptable and he had enough intelligence to let Edgar -beat him thoroughly at cribbage, whereupon Edgar offered to finance the -opening of a garage in Greencastle if the young folks would move back -there when Jim's hitch in the Army was finished. - -"Emma is all we have," said Edgar in his classic style. "It's -quite lonesome back home for Mother and me since she's been in the -city. We--well, we should like to know that you and, later on, our -grandchildren will be settling in a home near us." - -Emma blushed and Jim tried to dig the toe of his boot into a crack -between the floorboards. - -"Besides," added Edgar, becoming aware of Marta's look, "Greencastle -is a fine town and right up with the times. I think a garage will do a -fine business there." - -Jim was inclined to be reluctant, but Emma gave him a side-wise kick -and said of course they'd come home and settle. She gave Edgar a big -hug and a kiss and he beamed on everybody for the rest of the evening. - -A few months later, Jim's weak eyes caused him to pass a colonel -without saluting and, within days, he had a medical discharge. Emma and -the garage were waiting in Greencastle, so Jim took the first train. - -In '19 and in '21, Emma produced grandsons, delighting everyone and -especially Edgar. Emma herself was thoroughly puzzled when the boys -reached the age for bedtime stories; she discovered that they were not -particularly interested in tales of bold knights and fair ladies. She -would have been happy to recite the legends of Arthur every night, but -the boys, it seemed, preferred even poor poetry to a good, stirring -joust. - -Edgar privately decided that Jim's poetry gene had proved more -dominant than his own, which was perhaps just as well. - -Though not interested in making a fortune, Edgar nevertheless did well -financially, using his knowledge of the '20s as an investment guide. -Jim's garage prospered and he opened another, while his father-in-law -multiplied his spare cash in the stock market. In July of 1929, Edgar -suddenly retrenched for both of them, went bearish and arranged to sell -short a number of important shares. The entire family protested that he -was losing his mind, but Edgar was firm. By November first, they were -amazed, horrified and rich. - -The following year, Emma gave Jim the daughter he had wanted. And, -within three years, it was apparent to Edgar that tiny Susan carried -the gene. From the first time Grandpa experimentally told her a story -of the '90s, she wanted no others. Her mother found this also rather -difficult to understand, but at least the '90s were in the past, which -was better than poetry. - - * * * * * - -On a day in 1935, Edgar found himself pondering with a fierce -intentness he had not used since 1959, when he built the time machine. -Today, August fifth, was his 66th birthday--but it was also the day he -was born. - -It was impossible _not_ to wonder. Forty-two years ago (or twenty-four -from now), he had not bothered to think about possible consequences, so -strong and simple had been his urge to go back. But today--would he, -the father of one and grandfather of three, be wiped out the instant -Edgar Evans was born? Or would no baby of that name be born in the tiny -Oklahoma town? - -He had been born in the morning and when this particular morning passed -like any other, Edgar felt considerably better. _Cogito, ergo sum_, he -thought. "I think, therefore I am--a comforting philosophy. But what -about the baby?" - -So Edgar, nervous but understandably curious, sent a discreetly worded -wire and learned before long that he had indeed been born on schedule. -The more he thought about it, the less reason he could see why it -should be otherwise. A baby born in another part of the country had -been given the same name as his. There was certainly no traceable -relationship. And nearly everyone has a namesake somewhere. - -Not wishing to be institutionalized, Edgar had never hinted to anyone, -not even Marta, the secret of his past. He had invented a convenient -and plausible history, but used it only when necessary, and then -sparingly. But now he was thinking of his granddaughter, Susan. - -Susan carried the gene. At five, she insisted on dressing her dolls in -the costumes of forty years ago. She would be 29 and thoroughly unhappy -by the time the young Edgar perfected and used his time machine. - -So Edgar wrote a letter, sealed it and gave it to his lawyers with -instructions that it was to be given to Susan on a certain date in -1959, provided she was still unmarried. - -Edgar passed away three years later with a well-bred smile on his face, -befitting the first man who ever cheated time. His last statement, -phrased as considerately as ever, was the hope that he wasn't causing -trouble by dying. - - * * * * * - -Susan, his granddaughter, grew into a pleasingly plump young woman in -an age where the ideal seemed to be total emaciation. She was not only -single but disillusioned and despairing when the lawyers looked her up -and gave her Edgar's letter. - -A good part of what Edgar had written sounded like confused mysticism, -warnings about upsetting the future and the like, but his instructions -were specific enough and she read them as if they were the lost book of -_Revelations_. - -By the next day, she had flown from San Francisco to New York and -gained entry to young Edgar Evans' room by telling his landlady she -was a distant relative. She disconnected the scrambler from the time -machine and reset the controls to put herself back in 1891. In her -haste, she forgot some of Edgar's instructions, with the result that -she landed not fittingly costumed, but bare as a bacchante, in the room -of a handsome young man from Louisiana. - -The young man, whose name was Hare, was too startled to be anything -but a Southern gentleman at the time. In less than a month, however, -he took her back to Baton Rouge for inspection by his family and, that -ordeal successfully weathered, Susan found herself with a husband. - -There is no need to follow all of Susan's life, which was happy, sad, -unique and filled with minor tragedies and triumphs, like any other -life. But Susan had four sons and gave the gene to each of them, and -their children received it in turn. Before she had thought it necessary -to pass the secret of the machine to Edgar's great-great-grandchildren, -Susan died, so the machine was not available to them. - -Not that it mattered--knowledge was available, for young Andover Hare -had studied electronics at M. I. T. In 1962, he built his own time -machine, which was a considerable improvement over Edgar's, since it -could select place as well as time. Andover contacted his brothers, -sisters and cousins, helped them make their arrangements and passed -them through to the times they selected. Being a considerate man, he -allowed several relatives by marriage to go along on this mass temporal -migration. - -They did not restrict themselves to the '90s. Some went back to the -1700s, two to the Italian Renaissance, and one adventurous cousin clear -to the Second Crusade. Andover himself decided he would like to know -Shakespeare and Ben Jonson. He was the last one through the machine -and he left a small, efficient detonator connected to it. Andover had -Edgar's gene, but not his compunctions. - - * * * * * - -Yes, we owe a lot to Edgar Evans. When Edgar was a grave and unchubby -one-year-old, pulling himself up on the furniture, _Gone With the -Wind_ hit the populace right in the middle of their worries, vague -fears and faintly stirring desires to get out of their increasingly -complex world. The year was 1936, a year that also saw a period piece -movie that was one of the first in the inevitable deluge--_The Great -Ziegfeld_ drew, as customers, many of the bearers of Edgar's gene, -enough to make a profit-conscious Hollywood see mint-green. - -The year neighbors searched the wreckage of Edgar's home to pull -him from under the body of his mother, hunched in a last protective -gesture, was the year that saw American history searched frantically -for movie material. It was '39 and _Dodge City_ and _Union Pacific_ -helped thousands of Edgar's descendants forget momentarily the distant -rumble of war. Historical novels were also helping to glamorize the -past. - -By the time Edgar had graduated from school, been rejected by -the Army and worked for a time, the cold war was well advanced. -Three generations were mind-sick with tensions and fears and -doubts--heart-sick with the impossible wish to roll back the years to -times of peaceful, neighborly, unfrenzied human living. - -Edgar did. - -And the next time, in 1959, Susan went back. For most of us, 1959 came -only once, the year of the crisis when the missiles had already been -launched from both sides before the astonishing "thieves' agreement" -was reached and the missiles were aimed into the sea. - -There could be nothing but relief for a few months after that, -but then the play on nerves began again, the tensions began their -unbearable rise. - -In 1962, Susan's grandchildren were funneled like sacks of coal through -Andover Hare's machine. There were eighteen of them and a group of -their descendants built another machine later the same year. The -following March, another group disappeared--a much larger one this -time. They spread the gene so widely that most of us bear it today. - -It was inevitable that we carry the seed of that desperate desire to -escape our own troubled times. And the urge makes living under this -doubly grinding pressure more anguished every day. - -How many times this week have _you_ read or heard a piece of news and -wondered how much longer before the final, fatal mushrooms flare? How -many times has a video show, a movie, or even just a snapshot brought -the swift wish that you could be back there? How many times have the -"good old days" crept into your conversation, your thoughts? - - * * * * * - -As this account began with Edgar Evans, so it shall end with Benjamin -Reeves. Not yet, but soon--it _must_ be soon now. - -Like all truly wise men, Benjamin Reeves is a modest man. He's tall, -stooped a little, and his limbs are attached in that special loose way -that makes a man amble rather than walk, sprawl rather than sit. At -50-odd, he looks much more like a friendly janitor than a respected -research engineer. - -And the gene is particularly dominant in Benjamin. - -For eighteen years, he labored in the military vineyard, like so many -other scientists, designing computers and control systems for the -engineering section of a huge company, and finally heading up a study -group in the Dream Department. He liked that job. The dream boys were -the ones who sat around and thought about entirely new ways of doing -things. Compared to designing, it was like the difference between the -creative excitement of composing music and the drudgery of arranging it. - -But even while working on deadly machines for the future, Benjamin -couldn't stop dreaming about the past, any more than Edgar Evans had. - -Then, after eighteen years, Benjamin was fired. The military had asked -for a new study on the question of how many enemy missiles might get -through the early warning and intercept rings and reach the cities. -"What, specifically, can we do to protect our people?" - -When the study was finished, a huge brassbound conference was staged at -the lab and everybody was expectant. - -"We have a single recommendation," said Benjamin calmly, and they were -quiet, for Benjamin and his group were the big brains. "At the earliest -warning, tell everybody to run like hell!" - -So the lab fired him, though the public statement read that he was -"resigning to pursue independent research." - -Benjamin was shocked at first, and hurt, but dinner and party -invitations came as often as ever from his old associates, and their -wives went right on with that ancient game of trying to find the -"right" girl for the bachelor friend. He would never mention it, of -course, but the girls nowadays seemed too direct and aggressive for -him. They lacked that womanly modesty or engaging demureness that girls -reportedly had once possessed. He wished-- - - * * * * * - -Offers came in from other companies, but Benjamin had money enough for -a while and he began experimenting with some ideas. When his lawyer and -banker discovered he'd given away two new color TV circuits, however, -there was a blow-up and Benjamin found himself incorporated. - -It made no difference. He could still experiment as he pleased. He had -his many friends and constantly made more. If enough money rolled in -to make him moderately wealthy, let the lawyer worry about it. After -he came up with the Ben Reeves capacitor in 1961, his wealth was more -than moderate. That thumb-sized gadget delivered the power of a hundred -storage batteries and was the answer to a thousand engineering problems. - -All down the bad years, Benjamin had read the papers and wondered and -suffered through the tensions of the nerve war like the rest of us. -Perhaps it was a little worse for him, because he knew the classified -secrets, knew to the decimal point the percentage of missiles that -would get through our defenses. Steadily the urge grew stronger to get -out of this world gone suicidally awry. - -He had the money and he had the time. An efficient business manager -took care of the new plant that produced the Ben Reeves capacitor. - -He built his first machine in 1962, a month before Andover Hare took -his own near relatives back into time with him. But that wasn't enough -for Benjamin. He was a scientist where Andover was a student and Edgar -Evans an amateur experimenter. Benjamin couldn't forget the millions -who yearned with him. - -For Benjamin, the mere machine wasn't an answer. He went back through -the years himself, several times, but always he returned and worked -harder. And there came the day, a year ago, when his work shifted -suddenly to maps and population indices. - -If you live within 40 miles of the most populous cities, you should -know that somewhere in that city is a very plain suitcase which is at -once an answer to your prayers and to those strange nostalgic desires -you've felt. It may be in a rented room or a storage warehouse, or in -the attic of one of the many friends Benjamin Reeves has made. - -Wherever it is, you're under its influence, thanks to Benjamin's work. -And every other day now, in a closed-off room at the Ben Reeves plant, -technicians finish assembling another group of strange circuits which -goes into another plain suitcase to be sent to yet another city, chosen -on the basis of population vs. importance as a target. - -The technicians are learning speed. Be thankful for that, if you love -your fellow-man as Benjamin does. At first they turned out only one -machine a week; soon it will be one a day, then two, four. - -Benjamin doesn't go out any more. He's always within hearing of the -receiver tuned to the warning networks, within reach of the red button -that will someday send out a coded signal. - - * * * * * - -Did you read about the situation in this morning's papers? It looks -like another crisis in the making and maybe this time neither side will -back down. - -Pray for a year's time, if you're the praying kind. - -But whenever the missiles come, Benjamin will press the red button at -the first warning. The temporal field lasts only a millisecond and the -missiles won't be stopped, of course--but every city with a suitcase -will be empty when they strike. - -If the crisis holds off for a year, Benjamin figures we'll all go -back together, each city and town to a different time, but all before -1900. It's hard to wait even a year when you have the gene gnawing and -nagging inside you.... - -Edgar Evans, who started it, couldn't wait. Andover Hare refused to go -back alone. Benjamin Reeves, with the same gene, was unable to forget -what he told the military--run like hell!--and all the folks like us -who couldn't. - -So Benjamin found us the ultimate way to run, and to satisfy our dream -in the running. Not yet, but soon now. - -_See you back there!_ - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Nostalgia Gene, by Roy Hutchins - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE NOSTALGIA GENE *** - -***** This file should be named 50989.txt or 50989.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/9/8/50989/ - -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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