Campbell, John W Jr - The Machine

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The Machine

the sun was beginning to lower from the meridian as Tal Mason stretched and rose from his experiment.

He stepped out on the bal-cony and looked off across the city, then back at the experimental material

half-smilingly, half-ruefully.

"I knew I'd check of course," he thought, smiling; "that is, if I did it right. The Machine did it twenty

years ago and got the an-swer."

For some ten minutes he stood looking off across the green and silver patchwork, the green of the trees

and gardens, the silver bea-cons of the slim buildings, the flashing silver of machines. Tiny bright splotches

of color here and there marked the people, people in red and gold and blue, in rainbows and in clear white,

strolling, running, playing, resting. Never working—of course. The Machine did that.

Tal turned back to his apartment, went through the laboratory to the living room, and sat down at the

televisor set. Something hummed softly, and Tal spoke.

"Leis Falcor-RXDG-NY."

The hum changed slightly, then soft clicks sounded as the frosted screen swirled into moving color. A

room, simple in silvery-gray and velvet-black metal, with spots of gold against the black, simple, comfortable

furnishings. A soft, musical voice -was calling:

"Leis Falcor, please, Leis Falcor, please."

It stopped for a moment and repeated it. Leis appeared, slim in white and gold, her straight body flowing

across the room. They had time to learn grace and ease then. The Machine did everything else. She smiled

as she glanced at the screen.

"Tal—was the Machine wrong?" Her golden-brown face laughed at him.

'Is it ever?" he asked. "I wondered whether you were there. I thought you might have joined the

games."

A slight frown of annoyance crossed her face. "No. Jon is annoy-ingly insistent I go with him to

Kalin—so—I stayed here. Won't you come over?"

"I'd rather you came here. I finished that replica I made the other day—the old unintelligent machine for

flying. Not floating-flying. I wish you'd see it. It will function, even."

Leis laughed, and nodded. Slowly the colors faded from the screen as Tal rose. Out on the balcony he

looked down at the broad lawn directly below him, some two hundred feet down. A group of some two

dozen men and women were playing about a pool. Their skins flashed pink and bronzed in the sunlight as

they dived or swam; most were lying about listlessly.

Tal turned away in annoyance. He knew some of those people. Beauty is skin deep—their intelligence,

their wit, their minds, were no deeper. He wondered momentarily whether that wasn't a better type of

human now—better adapted. They seemed contented, they seemed to feel none of the dissatisfaction he

felt.

Everything had been done before him. Always, despite his keen interest in learning something new, the

Machine could give him the answer immediately. It was a thing already done, a problem al-ready solved.

They seemed more contented, better adapted than he.

Yet even they were unsatisfied, he knew. Tal was scientific in thought and in interest, so he had not

studied history deeply. Had he, he might have recognized the signs the social customs of the day displayed.

It was only some one hundred and fifty years since the Machine came, but mankind was following its

inevitable course.

It had happened in Babylon, it had happened in Egypt, it had happened in Rome, and it was happening on

all Earth now. Man had been released from all work, when the Machine came, and so he had played. He

played his games, till he wore them out; some still played hard, but most had lost ah1 interest.

It was a thing done; it annoyed them as much as the fact that all new things seemed to have been

learned by the Machine annoyed Tal. So those who had played their games out had turned to the one men

had always sought before—the old game of love.

Tal did not analyze their reasons, but he sensed their dissat-isfaction and perhaps something of the

danger in this course. But

not very strongly. It had started nearly thirty years before, almost before he was born.

He turned back to the room as he heard the soft hum of the ship landing on the roof. In a few moments Leis had

come down, laughing.

"Where is this monstrous thing you've made? and why?" she asked.

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Campbell, John W Jr - The Machine

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