On TV he had seen the media's excursion across into tine other world. Along with the rest of the nation, he had witnessed scenes of blissful trees and grass and clear sky, and he had reacted vigorously. This was it, all right. As soon as he had viewed it for himself, he had realized how profound Jim's insight had been. A new epoch in human history had begun, and his candidate had called the shots right from the start. Now, if they could just get Jim over there along with
Woodbine, this one last essential act...
'I have him,' Pat said, breaking into his thoughts. 'Here.' She held the vidphone receiver toward him. 'He knows who you are. Because of Jim, he accepted the call.'
'Mr. Woodbine,' Sal said, seating himself at the vidphone. 'It's darn nice of you to take a minute or so off from your busy schedule to hear me out. Jim Briskin would like very much to visit this other world. "Can you arrange it with Turpin at TD ?' He explained, then, why it was vital, just in case Woodbine was ignorant of Jim's Chicago speech. But Woodbine was not ignorant of it; he understood immediately what the situation was.
'I think,' Woodbine said thoughtfully, 'that you'd better have Jim drop by my conapt. Tonight, if possible. I want to discuss with him the material we've uncovered on the far side. Before he goes across, he should know about it. I'm sure TD won't mind; they're going to release it to the media sometime tomorrow anyhow.'
'Fine,' Sal said, immensely pleased. 'I'll have him shoot right over to your place.' He thanked
Woodbine profusely and then rang off.
Now let's see if I can light the proper fire under Jim, he said to himself as he dialed. Get him to do this. What if he won't ?
'Maybe I can help,' Pat said, from behind him. 'I can usually persuade Jim when it's genuinely in his interest. and this certainly is, beyond a doubt.'
'I'm glad you see it this way,' Sal said, 'because I'm very anxious about this.' He wondered what material TD had uncovered in the new world; evidently, it was important. And the way
Woodbine had talked, he was obviously concerned.
Hmm, Sal thought. He felt a little worried. Just a little: the first stirrings.
Frank Woodbine answered the knock on his conapt door, and there on the threshold stood his tall and very dark friend Jim Briskin, looking gloomy as always.
'It's been a hell of a long time,' Woodbine said, ushering Jim in. 'Come over here; I want to show you right away what we've turned up on the other side.' He led Jim to the long table in the living room. 'Their compressor.' He pointed to the photograph. 'There are a hundred better ways to build a compressor than this. Why'd they choose the most cumbersome way possible ? You can't call a culture primitive if it's got such artifacts in it as piston engines and gas compressors. In fact, their ability to construct a power glider alone puts them out of that class automatically. And yet, something's obviously wrong. Tomorrow, of course, we'll know what it is, but I'd like to know tonight, before we establish contact with them.'
Picking up the photo of the compressor, Jim Briskin studied it. 'The homeopapes thought you'd found something like this, when you hauled that object back. According to the rumor, you've actually ...'
'Yes,' Woodbine said. "The rumor's correct. Here's a pic of it.' He showed Jim the photograph of the power glider. 'It's in TD's basement. They're smart, and yet they're dumb - the people on the other side, I mean. Come on along with me tomorrow; we're going to set down exactly here.' He laid out a sequence of shots taken by the QB satellite. 'Recognize the terrain ? It's the coast of
France. Over here ...' He pointed.'... Normandy. A town of theirs. You can't call it a city, because it's simply not that large. But it's the largest one the QB has been able to detect. So we're going there .To confront them in their own bailiwick. By doing so, we get a direct confrontation vis-avis their culture, the totality of what they've managed to develop. TD is supplying linguistics machines; we've got anthropologists, sociologists ...' He broke off. "Why are you looking at me like that, Jim ?'
Jim Briskin said, 'I thought it was a planet in another star system. Then the hints in the media were right, after all. But I'll come with you; I'm glad to. Thanks for letting me.'
'Don't take it so hard, 'Woodbine said.
'But it's inhabited,' Jim said.
'Not entirely. My god, look on the bright side. This is a tremendous event, an encounter with another civilization entirely, what I've been searching for over three star-systems and a timeperiod of four decades. You're not going to begrudge us that, are you ?'
After a pause Jim said, 'You're right, of course. I'm just having trouble adjusting to this. Give me a little time.'
'Are you sorry now that you made that Chicago speech ?'
'No,' Jim said.
'I hope your attitude doesn't have to change. There's one more thing we found: no one at TD has so far been able to make out what it signifies. Look at this pic.' He placed the glossy print before
Jim. 'It was in the glider, poked down out of sight, obviously deliberately concealed. In a little leather bag.'
'Rocks ?' Jim said, scrutinizing the pic.
'Diamonds. Rough, not cut. Just as they come out of the ground. The inference is that these people prize precious stones but don't know how to cut or polish them. So, in this one respect at least, they're some four or five thousand years behind us. What would you say about a culture that can build a power glider, including piston engine and compressor, but hasn't learned to cut and polish gems ?'
Jim said, 'I - don't know."
'We're taking some cut stones with us tomorrow. Couple of diamonds, opals, a gold ring set with a nice fat ruby donated by the wife of one of TD's vice presidents. And we're also taking this.' He tossed a sheet of rolled-up paper before Jim. 'A schematic of a very simple, efficient turbine. And this.' He bounced another tube of paper onto the table. 'A schematic of a medium-size steam engine, circa 1880, used as a donkey engine in mine work. But, of course, our main effort will be directed toward finding a few of their technological experts, if there are any, over here. Turpin wants to show them around TD, for example. And after that, probably N'York City.'
'Has the government made an effort to get involved in this ?'
'Schwarz, I understand, has asked Turpin if a mixed bag of specialists from various bureaus can accompany us tomorrow. I don't know what the old man has decided; it's up to him. After all, TD
can shut down the nexus any time it so desires. Schwarz knows that.'
Jim said, 'Would you hazard any kind of estimate as to the level of their culture in terms of chronology relative to ours ?'
'Sure,' Frank Woodbine said. 'Somewhere between 3000 B.C. and A.D. 1920. Does that answer your question ?'
'So it can't be graded on a time-scale which compares it to us.'
'We'll know tomorrow,' Frank said. 'Or rather - and I fully expect this, Jim - we'll know that they're so damn different from us that they might as well live on a planet in some other star system, as you'd like them to be. A non-terrestrial race entirely.'
'With six legs and an exoskeleton,' Jim murmured.
'If not worse. Something that would make George Walt look perfectly ordinary. You know, that's what we ought to do: take George Walt over with us tomorrow. Tell the people on the other side that George Walt is our god, that we worship him and they'd better, too, or he'll make the bad atoms rain down on them and cause them to die of leukemia.'
'Probably,' Jim said, 'they've not reached the level of developing atomic power. Either for industry or warfare.'
'For all I know,' Frank said quietly, 'they've got an atomic tactical bomb made out of wood.'