Throughout history — and prehistory — mankind's lot has always been affected by man's inventions. With the development of the wheel all the varied forms of transportation began. Just think what the canal did to the English countryside and way of life. Or what the railroad, then the airplane, did to the entire world. Everything has changed; nothing is the same.
Now think of the changes that will be wrought by another form of transportation. The Matter Transmitter. All you have to do is step through the screen and you are on the other side of the world.
Or on the Moon.
Or another planet.
Or the far side of the galaxy. Here — step through.
In the Beginning
There was a light knock on the compartment door that Adam Ward heard, ignored. He had turned the lights off and now sat by the window of the train, looking out at the snow-covered, star-lit slopes of the Rockies as they moved silently past. A tunnel wall suddenly blotted out the view and he pursed his lips in annoyance, the rattling-roar of the wheels loud in his ears. The sound ended as suddenly as it had begun, the mountains reappeared. The knocking was louder now on the metal door
"Go away," he called out, the irritations of the last weeks harsh in his voice. All of the hurried arrangements, interviews, security clearances, annoyances. "Go away, I don't want any."
"Porter, sir. Got to fix up your bed."
"Come back later."
"Got to do it now, sir."
Annoyed at the interruption Adam shuffled his feet into his slippers and went to the door, unlocked it to send the man away — the bed would be made up when he wanted it — turned the knob.
Took the burst of gas from the spray can full in his face.
He gasped, coughed hoarsely, then fell to the floor.
The big man pushed the door wide, kicked the fallen man's legs out of the way, then slammed it shut as soon as the small man had hurried in behind him. It had taken only a few seconds; they had not been seen.
"You must move quickly," the big man said, squinting at his watch. "This fool was slow in opening the door. There are only four minutes left." He spoke with a note of admonition, as though it were the other's fault.
The small man ignored this and began to undress. Their relationship had been abrasive since they had met, when this operation had first begun. In response to a polite request for the other's name, he had received only gratuitous insult. "In the cell system we do not use names. You may call me Ivan if that pleases you." The tones had been as insulting as the words.
Under the small man's topcoat he wore a boiler suit with a single zipper. He pulled this down and stepped out of the garment, shivering as the cool air touched his skin.
"All of it," Ivan said as he pulled the jacket from the recumbent figure, bumping the man's head cruelly on the floor. "Right down to your sweet white skin."
The small man opened his mouth to protest, but did not speak. Watching instead as Ivan swiftly undressed Adam Ward. Listening to the instructions he had heard too often before.
"You are new to this business. Therefore you must listen, memorize — and obey without thinking. Fingerprints and dental charts have been taken care of. Yours have been substituted. But we have heard that the Yankees have been developing odor recognition, smell patterns not unlike speech patterns. You will wear Ward's hopefully reeking underwear as well as his shirt with stinking armpits just in case they want to try this little device on you."
"How tastefully you express it." He spoke, despite his determination not to.
"You are too delicate for this rough business. But better a brittle tool than no tool at all. Dress — quickly!"
He pulled on the other's still-warm clothing, disguising his feelings of revulsion, knowing any reaction would only please Ivan. As he was knotting the tie the big man looked at his watch and waved him to the far side of the compartment. As though on cue there was a sharp rap: Ivan unlocked the door and pulled it wide. The newcomer grunted as he entered, moving sideways to get through the door. Big, no fat, just bulging muscle. He carried a large suitcase effortlessly in one hand and filled the tiny compartment with his presence.
Ivan stepped up onto the seat to make room, snapping his fingers at the small man. "Get up here, you." Then added, almost as an afterthought, "Tell me your name?"
"Ward. Adam Ward."
"Very good, Adam." A pat on the head for a good dog. They swayed as the engine braked and slowed. "You, finish your work, we're coming into the station."
The giant newcomer allowed himself one brief look of contempt before he kneeled and opened the suitcase. It was empty. Then he reached out and seized the naked body upon the floor.
"No!" Adam said, the single word slipping out. He had known nothing of this.
"Yes," Ivan said, smiling with pleasure. "You would be surprised how small a human being is— when folded up. Particularly a man who weighs just fifty-four and a half kilos. Just what you weigh. See."
With precise motions and apparent ease — had he done this before? — the bearlike man tucked Ward's chin against his chest and slid the torso into the suitcase. Folded the arms neatly, bent the legs and knees back before slipping them into place as well. Adam had a last glimpse of the naked body, of himself, foetuslike inside the case, before the lid snapped shut.
"Ward — open the door and make sure the corridor is empty."
He obeyed the command without thinking. The platform lights of a small station moved into view when he looked through the corridor windows. The train slowed, then stopped.
"No one."
Rough hands pulled him aside and the bearlike man slipped by, the heavy suitcase held lightly in one hand. Ivan went out behind him, turning briefly for one last command.
"I am in the adjoining compartment — but only to be disturbed in dire emergency. I don't want to ever see you again. You know what must be done."
Adam slammed the door harshly, letting it speak for him — at the same time knowing that the other man could not care in the slightest.
Alone for the first time he felt a great relief. His training was finished, all those boring sessions with the gray little men. The operations on his face, the dieting to get down to exactly fifty-four and a half kilos. All that finished and to be forgotten. He brushed the dusty footprints from the seat, then washed his hands in the tiny sink. Sat down in the same spot where Ward had been sitting not five minutes earlier. There was a distant whistle and a clanking as the train started forward. Snow was starting to fall again. He had a brief glimpse of a dark figure putting a large suitcase into a car, then the buildings cut off the sight.
He jumped when there was a knock on the door.
"Porter, sir, come to do up your bed."
Now the real work would begin.
"I assume that you know the very important reason why you have been brought here?" Bhatta-charya asked. His twisted body rested at an odd angle in the wheelchair, his hands clawlike with ancient scars. Adam put aside any natural feelings of compassion and spoke the way Ward himself would have spoken.
"You assume, incorrectly, Professor Bhatta-charya. I was bullied by Federal agents until I agreed to come to this place, my students will take their examinations soon, my own research. ." He broke off as the fire-scarred hand rose in gentle admonition.
"I am very sorry for any inconvenience. But I assure you that the research you will so ably assist us with here will far surpass your wildest dream." His English was slightly accented, very old-fashioned. "You have met Dr. Levy already I believe. If you will kindly excuse me he will explain everything about the Epsilon experiments. I bid you welcome to our most interesting project."