The Steam-Driven Boy (3 page)

The picture showed a flame.

‘H
AWO GARK FAER JASO HAFT GAHE JAWO HARK GAIG JANI HATE!
’

When he looked closer, he could see something like a shrivelled monkey in the middle of the flame.

‘Y
IOU HIAVIE NIOTHIINGI TIO LIOSIE BIUTI YIOURI GIAINISI!’

In the background was a curbing. The flame must have been in the middle of some street.

‘E
RO KFOITR GHKEEN IRW TOS!’

Very near the flame was a kind of box.

‘I
NTABIL UNHABIL UNEAEBAL UNHABIL INUABLAL UNMABIL IJNAABAL INNABEBIL UNCABIL INOABAL INNABIL UNDABIL UNIABAL INTABIL UNIABAL INOABAL INNABEBIL UNIABAL INSABEBIL UNAABAL UNBABIL INOABAL UNMABIL UNIABAL INNABIL UNAABAL UNBABIL UNLABIL UNEABAL!’

The monkey looked in a way human, but small and dark.

‘H
E CUAE IONDTION AN TBOMABLS!’

He wondered if his entire, spectacular life had been leading up to this – to die in a waiting-room, leafing through an irritating magazine.

‘T
H HMN CNDTN S BMNBL!’

Or if this waiting itself were a part of the test.

‘H
ET MUNAH NOCDTINOI SI BONIMAABEL!’

Anyway, if this was the kind of thing they were filling their magazines with these days – pictures of a monkey which had somehow escaped from its box and caught fire – he was more than happy to remain a busy and ignorant executive with no time to read!

‘I
BOMB CONDUIT NOISE-NAIL – HAM THEN!’

This headline looked almost English, but it made no more sense than the others. What, for instance, was a ‘noise-nail’ supposed to be?

‘T
HEROE HEROUMEROAN CEROONERODEROITIEROON ISERO ABEROOMEROINEROABEROLEROE!’

He threw the magazine down in disgust, just as the four examiners walked into the room.

They introduced themselves as Stone, Brown, White and another whose name G. did not catch. The four looked so much alike, wearing identical drab suits and regimental ties, that G. was never quite sure which one was speaking to him.

‘You have three tests to take,’ one said. ‘Naturally you may fail the first two, but the third is as we say ultra-important. If you fail that you’ve had it. All clear?’

G. nodded. ‘When do I start?’

‘Right away. We’ll take you to the Test Centre.’

Outside there was just one winding, dusty road leading past the Reception Hall. Not far away stood a series of red signs with white lettering. G. could just make out the first two:

‘B
EARDS GROW QUICKLY

IN THE GRAVE’

He hoped to read the rest, but the examiners led him off in the opposite direction.

Now that he had a chance to look at them, G. saw the four were also similar in feature and physique. They were heavy, thick-waisted men, with flat noses and facial scars, and the twisted tissue made them seem to smile ironically, the way an old boxer smiles as he holds the bucket for a young boxer to spit in. It was with this cynical smile that one of them pointed at a distant spire. ‘I’m hungry,’ he said.

They began to climb along a ridge, and G.’s attention was caught by a small lake far below. It was almost covered with what looked like low-flying clouds or enormous suds.

At the sharpest part of the curve, they saw a break in the white guard rail. A vehicle lay on the hillside below them, overturned and in flames. G. stopped for a moment to look, then hurried to catch up with the others.

‘Shouldn’t we do something?’ he asked.

‘Too late!’ shouted the first examiner, turning a neat hand-spring.

‘Happens all the time!’ bellowed the second, flinging himself into a triplet of somersaults.

The third ripped off his belt and began skipping rope without breaking his stride. ‘They never learn!’ he screamed.

‘What do they think a guard rail is for, anyway – decoration?’ boomed the last, leaping into the air to do a lightning-fast
entrechat
.

While wondering at his companions’ lack of compassion, G. was no grumbler; he plodded on. Presently one of them shouted, ‘There’s the Test Centre!’

The others grinned at one another, and one of them, nudging G., said, ‘Isn’t the air beautiful?’

It did seem a question, and G. was too busy looking over the Test Centre to try framing an answer.

The Test Centre, as far as he could see, looked exactly like the Reception Hall. Its thick, concrete-block walls were windowless. A single elm obscured most of the large sign painted on one side wall: ‘…
E! THIS MEANS YOU!’

As they approached the glass doors, a beggar accosted them. His smile, as he held out a
fasces
of pencils, was even more scar-twisted and cynical than those of the examiners. His suit, too, was a frayed copy of theirs, and around his shirtless throat was an oily regimental tie.

‘Pencils, boss?’

One of the examiners hit him hard, in the mouth and stomach, then moved courteously to open the door for G.

‘That’s the kind of thing we came along to protect you from,’ he said. G. raised his eyebrows, but could think of no reply. For just a second, he longed to be once more in his own cool corridors, among the clean young systems analysts.

The examiners showed him to a soundproof cubicle and explained the three tests:

‘You just type your answers on that there keyboard, see?’

‘And the computer asks you more questions.’

‘The first two tests are a kind of warmup …’

‘… then the computer gives you the real battle problem.’

‘Good luck, now.’

They left him alone with the computer typewriter, which at once asked him the first question:

‘C
GAVE
B
AS MANY TIMES AS MANY APPLES AS
A
HAD AS
B
NOW GIVES
C
OF HIS OWN APPLES.
C
GAVE
A
ENOUGH APPLES TO MAKE
A’
S TOTAL
5
TIMES WHAT
B
ORIGINALLY HAD
. W
HEN
C
HAD EATEN ENOUGH OF HIS OWN APPLES TO LEAVE HIM
2/3
OF WHAT
A
NOW HAS, HE HAD LOST ALTOGETHER
4
TIMES AS MANY APPLES AS HE GAVE
A. A
NOW GIVES
C 1/7
OF HIS APPLES, AND
C
BUYS AS MANY MORE AS HE GAVE
B,
THUS DOUBLING HIS TOTAL SUPPLY.
A
WILL GIVE
B 1
MORE APPLE THAN
C
WILL GIVE
B.
IF
B
EATS
2
APPLES, HE WILL THEN HAVE
5
TIMES AS MANY APPLES AS
A
NOW GIVES HIM.
A
WILL FINALLY HAVE
1
LESS APPLE THAN
C
NOW HAS, AND
C
WILL FINALLY HAVE
1/2
AS MANY APPLES AS HE HAD ORIGINALLY
. B
NOW HAS
1/2
AS MANY APPLES AS
C
HAD AFTER HE GAVE
B
AS MANY APPLES AS
A
WILL GIVE
B. C
NOW HAS
4
TIMES AS MANY APPLES AS THERE ARE MONTHS REMAINING IN THE YEAR. WHAT MONTH IS IT?
’

G. answered or failed to answer, and the second question came:

‘A
SSUMING THEM TO BE “SUSPENSIONS” OF ONE ART MEDIUM IN ANOTHER, LIST THE FOLLOWING SIX WORKS IN ORDER OF IMPORTANCE, CATEGORIZING THEM BY
DEGREE
OF SUSPENSION, AND DISCUSSING THE
TYPE
OF SUSPENSION, WHETHER ANALOGICALLY COLLIDAL OR OTHERWISE, HOW MUCH OF EACH MEDIUM HAS GONE INTO SUSPENSION, ETC.

‘1. O. F
LAKE,
“D
ER
Z
ELTWEG
”

‘2. J. A
SHBY
, “D
ESIGN FOR A BRAIN
”

‘3. C
LYDE
O
HIO
, “E
XTENSION
”

‘4. R. M
UTT,
“F
OUNTAIN”

‘5. J. C. O
DEON,
“O”

‘6. L.
POSTMAN AND R. D. WALK, “PERCEPTION OF ERROR”’

When G. had made an attempt at answering this, there came a third:

‘A
PRIEST AND THREE NUNS ARE SHIPWRECKED ON A DESERT ISLAND WITH NO HOPE OF RESCUE
. F
OOD IS RUNNING LOW, AND UNTIL THEY CAN RAISE SOME CROPS, THERE IS SERIOUS DANGER OF STARVATION
. I
N AN ACCIDENT, THE PRIEST LOSES BOTH ARMS.
H
E IS BARELY SAVED, BUT A DILEMMA ARISES: WHETHER OR NOT THE FOUR MAY EAT HIS SEVERED ARMS, INCLUDING OR EXCLUDING THE CONSECRATED FOREFINGERS AND THUMBS.

‘W
ITHOUT HIS HELP, FARMING GOES SLOWLY.
I
T IS CLEAR THAT IN A FEW YEARS THEY MAY ALL STARVE TO DEATH, UNLESS THEY BREAK THEIR VOWS OF CHASTITY AND PROCREATE.

‘T
HE PRIEST HAS A DREAM IN WHICH WHAT HE SUPPOSES TO BE AN ANGELIC MESSENGER APPEARS, BATTERED AND BLOODSTAINED, TO INFORM HIM THAT THE DEVIL HAS TEMPORARILY TAKEN CONTROL OF HEAVEN AND REIGNS SUPREME.
W
HOEVER DOES NOT IMMEDIATELY RENDER WORSHIP TO SATAN WILL BE CAST INTO HELL.
“I
T IS ONLY TEMPORARY,” THE ANGEL STRESSES.
“I
’M SURE THE LORD HAD SOME REASON FOR ALLOWING THIS TO TAKE PLACE.
”

‘S
OLVE THESE DILEMMAS.’

For the second test, the computer opened up to show G. a passage down into the earth. He followed it to a room containing three appliances:
an automatic washer, a garbage disposal and a television set. As printed placards directed him, he took off his shirt and tie and put them into, respectively, the washer and the disposal. The shirt was torn to threads instantly, and though he managed to retrieve the tie, it was wrinkled and covered with grease. He managed to knot it correctly nevertheless.

The television flickered at him a series of stills of famous actresses, which G. correctly identified as Carole Lombard, Gene Tierney, Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield. Their eyes seemed to follow him wherever he walked in the room. After several repeats of the series, the words, ‘P
ROCEED TO NEXT ROOM
’ appeared on the screen. G. obeyed.

He was in the waiting-room of a large air terminal, standing before Gate I. Suddenly a crowd of people came running out of Gate I and knocked him down. No one stopped to see if he were hurt; the entire mob rushed over to Gate III and disappeared. G. had barely time to get to one knee (and examine the other, which was bleeding) when a second group galloped out of Gate II, swinging infants and suitcases. He had time to see how pleasantly ordinary they were – neat computer programmers, jolly tourists, old folks, women in print dresses and men in straw shoes, attaché cases, cameras, zip bags of dirty diapers – before they ran him down.

These hurried to Gate IV, leaving G. with a cut lip, a torn lapel and scraps of animated conversation:

‘… on a non-sked … bonded and … potty … Did you
see
that chicken sandwich?’

There was no time for G. to get out of the way. He was run over and trampled in quick succession by passengers bound from Gates III to I, IV to II, I to II, II to I, III to II, IV to III, I to IV, II to III, III to IV and IV to I. By now, he was barely able to crawl into the next room, a barracks.

The soldiers wearing Aggressor army fatigues and cockscomb helmets saw him and roared out oaths in Esperanto. They trussed G. to a ladder and began hacking bits from him and toasting them over cigarette lighters. Yet even through his intense pain, G. knew all this would end happily; he didn’t mind the torture as much as not being allowed to smoke.

A bell rang. The soldiers hurriedly took off their Aggressor uniforms and put on Army green. They ‘discovered’ G. still strapped to a ladder and released him. Was he all right? they wanted to know. One soldier bet him it had been hell, being a prisoner of the inhuman Aggressor. G. smiled and shrugged, and asked if anyone had a cigarette, preferably filtered. No one smoked, and though one sergeant offered him a chocolate bar, G. felt badiy treated. He was weary and restless at the same time; he would have liked to do anything … sell pencils, anything …

As a veteran, G. was taken to lead the parade past his own suburban home. Joan, his wife, waved at him from the front yard, which needed a bit of trimming. She had changed her hair style he noted, giving an extra grin to her hair. It looked nice, at least from a distance.
He waved, and she waved back
, he thought.
They were like that – casual, you know
?

The street was lined with neat programmers and systems analysts,
who showered him with the punchings from punched cards.

‘Thanks, boys. Back to work now.’

At the end of the street was the square red can. When he saw it, G. knew what he must do to pass the test. Somewhere in the background, four-foot, up-to-the-minute-news letters spelled out the computer’s problem:

‘T
HEY SAY THAT
G.
WAS A MAN OF GREAT COMMERCE, HEAD IN FACT OF A LARGE COMPUTER CORPORATION …’