Waldo

Twenty pounds - twenty-one. Twenty-five! Up past thirty. He was not even sweating! Thirty-five -forty, -one, -two, -three. Forty-five! And -six! And a half. Forty-seven pounds! With a great sigh he let his hand relax. He was strong. Strong

When he had somewhat regained his composure, he considered what to do next. His first impulse was to call Grimes, but he suppressed it. Soon enough when he was sure of himself

He went back to the tester and tried his left hand. Not as strong as his right, but almost - nearly forty-five pounds. Funny thing, he didn't feel any different. Just normal, healthy. No sensation

He wanted to try all of his muscles. It would take too long to rig testers for kick, and shove, and back lift, and, oh, a dozen others. He needed a field, that was it, a one-g field. Well, there was the reception room; it could be centrifuged

But its controls were in the ring and it was long corridors away. There was a nearer one, the centrifuge for the cuckoo clock. He had rigged the wheel with a speed control as an easy way to regulate the clock. He moved back to the control ring and stopped the turning of the big wheel; the clockwork was disturbed by the sudden change; the little red bird popped out, said, ‘TIz-wu th-woo' once, hopefully, and subsided

Carrying in his hand a small control panel radio hooked to the motor which inipelled the centrifuge wheel, he propelled himself to the wheel and placed himself inside, planting his feet on the inner surface of the rim and grasping one of the spokes, so that he would be in a standing position with respect to the centrifugal force, once it was impressed. He started the wheel slowly

Its first motion surprised him and he almost fell off. But he recovered himself and gave it a littlc more power. All right so far. He speeded it up gradually, triumph spreading through him as he felt the pull of the pseudo gravitational field, felt his legs grow heavy, but still strong! He let it out, one full g. He could take it. He could, indeed! To be sure, the force did not affect the upper part of his body so strongly as the lower, as his head was only a foot or so from the point of rotation. He could fix that; he squatted down slowly, hanging on tight to the spoke. It was all right

But the wheel swayed and the motor complained. His unbalanced weight, that far out from the centre of rotation, was putting too much of a strain on a framework intended to support a cuckoo clock and its counterweight only. He straightened up with equal caution, feeling the fine shove of his thigh muscles and calves. He stopped the wheel

Baldur had been much perturbed by the whole business. He had almost twisted his neck off trying to follow the motions of Waldo

He still postponed calling Grimes. He wanted to arrange for some selective local controls on the centrifuging of the reception room, in order to have a proper place in which to practice standing up. Then he had to get the hang of this walking business; it looked easy, but he didn't know. Might be quite a trick to learn it

Thereafter he planned to teach Baldur to walk. He tried to get Baldur into the cuckoo-clock wheel, but the dog objected. He wiggled free and retreated to the farthest part of the room. No matter - when he had the beast in the reception room he would damn well have to learn to walk. Should have seen to it long ago. A big brute like that, and couldn't walk! He visualized a framework into which the dog could be placed which would force him to stand erect. It was roughly equivalent to a baby's toddler, but Waldo did not know that. He had never seen a baby's toddler

‘Uncle Gus-

‘Oh, hello, Waldo. How you been?

‘Fine. Look, Uncle Gus, could you come up to Freehold -right away?

Grimes shook his head. ‘Sorry. My bus is in the shop.

‘Your bus is too slow anyhow. Take a taxi, or get somebody to drive you.

‘And have you insult ‘em when we get there? Huh-uh.

‘I'll be sweet as sugar.

‘Well, Jimmie Stevens said something yesterday about wanting to see you.

Waldo grinned. ‘Get him. I'd like to see him.

‘I'll try.

‘Call me back. Make it soon.

Waldo met them in the reception room, which he had left uncentrifuged. As soon as they came in he started his act. ‘My, I'm glad you're here. Dr Stevens - could you fly me down to Earth rightaway? Something's comeup.

‘Why - I suppose so.

‘Let's go.

‘Wait a minute, Waldo. Jimmie's not prepared to handle you the way you have to be handled.

‘I'll have to chance it, Uncle Gus. This is urgent.

‘But-

‘No "buts". Let's leave at once.

They bustled Baldur into the ship and tied him down. Grimes saw to it that Waldo's chair was tilted back in the best approximation of a deceleration rig. Waldo settled himself into it and closed his eyes to discourage questions. He sneaked a look and found Grimes grimly silent. Stevens made very nearly a record trip, but set them down quite gently on the parking flat ovcr Grimes's home. Grimes touched Waldo's arm. ‘How do you feel? I'll get someone and we'll get you inside. I want to get you to bed.

‘Can't do that, Uncle Gus. Things to do. Give me your arm, will you?

‘Huh?' But Waldo reached for the support requested and drew himself up

‘I'll be all right now, I guess.' He let go the physician's arm and started for the door. ‘Will you untie Baldur?

‘Waldo!

He turned around, grinning happily. ‘Yes, Uncle Gus, it's true. I'm not weak any more. I can walk.

Grimes took hold of the back of one of the seats and said shakily, ‘Waldo, I'm an old man. You ought not to do things like this to me.' He wiped at his eyes

‘Yes,' agreed Stevens, ‘it's a damn dirty trick.

Waldo looked blankly from one face to the other. ‘I'm sorry,' he said humbly. ‘I just wanted to surprise you.

‘It's all right. Let's go downside and have a drink. You can tell us about it then.

‘All right. Come on, Baldur.' The dog got up and followed after his master. He had a very curious gait; Waldo's trainer gadget had taught him to pace instead of trot

Waldo stayed with Grimes for days, gaining strength, gaining new reflex patterns, building up his flabby muscles. He had no setbacks; the myasthenia was gone. All he required was conditioning

Grimes had forgiven him at once for his unnecessarily abrupt and spectacular revelation of his cure, but Grimes had insisted that he take it easy and become fully readjusted before he undertook to venture out unescorted. It was a wise precaution. Even simple things were hazards to him. Stairs, for example. He could walk on the level, but going downstairs had to be learned. Going up was not so difficult

Stevens showed up one day, let himself in, and found Waldo alone in the living room, listening to a stereo show. ‘Hello, Mr Jones.

‘Oh - hello, Dr Stevens.' Waldo reached down hastily, fumbled for his shoes, zipped them on. ‘Uncle Gus says I should wear them all the time,' he explained. ‘Everybody does. But you caught me unawares.

‘Oh, that's no matter. You don't have to wear them in the house. Where's Doc?

‘Gone for the day. Don't you, really? Seems to me my nurses always wore shoes.

‘Oh yes, everybody does - but there's no law to make you.

‘Then I'll wear them. But I can't say that I like them. They feel dead, like a pair of disconnected waldoes. But I want to learn how.

‘How to wear shoes?

‘How to act like people act. It's really quite difficult,' he said seriously

Stevens felt a sudden insight, a welling of sympathy for this man with no background and no friends. It must be odd and strange to him. He felt an impulse to confess something which had been on his mind with respect to Waldo. ‘You really are strong now, aren't you?