“I told you,” Hawks said calmly. “You don’t have to try to get a rise out of us. We’ll tell you. That’s part of a man. The amplifier next to it is set up to be another part.
“That entire bank of amplifiers is set up to contain an exact electronic description of a man: his physical structure, down to the last moving particle of the last atom in the last molecule in the last cell at the end of his little toe’s nail. It knows, thereby, his nervous reaction time and volume, the range and nature of his reflexes, the electrical capacity of each cell in his brain. It knows everything it needs to know so it can tell another machine how to build that man.
“It happens to be a man named Sam Latourette, but it could be anyone. It’s our standard man. When the matter transmitter’s scanner converts you into a series of similar electron flows, the information goes on a tape to be filed. It also goes in here, so we can read out the differences between you and the standard. That gives us a cross-check when we need accurate signal modulation. That’s what we’re going to do today. Take our initial scan, so we can have a control tape and a differential reading to use when we transmit tomorrow.”
“Transmit what?”
“You.”
“Where?”
“I told you that, too. The Moon.”
“Just like that? No rockets, no countdowns? Just a bunch of tubes sputtering and squish! I’m on the Moon, like a three-D radiophoto.” Barker smiled. “Ain’t science great?”
Hawks looked at him woodenly. “We’re not conducting any manhood contests here, Barker. We’re working at a job. It’s not necessary to keep your guard up all the time.”
“Would you know a contest if you saw one, Doctor?”
Sam Latourette, who had come up behind them, growled, “Shut up, Barker!”
Barker turned casually. “Jesus, fellow, I didn’t eat your baby.”
“It’s all right, Sam,” Hawks said patiently. “Al Barker, this is Sam Latourette. Doctor Samuel Latourette.”
Barker glanced at the amplifiers and back. “We’ve met,” he said to Latourette, extending his hand.
“You’re not very funny, Barker.”
Barker lowered his hand. “I’m not a comedian by trade. What’re you — the house mother?”
“I’ve been looking over the file Personnel sent down on you,” Latourette said with heavy persistence. “I wanted to see what your chances were of being any use to us here. And I just want you to remember one thing.” Latourette had lowered his head until his neck was almost buried between his massive shoulders, and his face was broadened by parallel rows of yellowish flesh that sprang into thick furrows down the sides of his jaw. “When you talk to Dr. Hawks, you’re talking to the only man in the world who could have built this.” His pawing gesture took in the galleries, the catwalks, the amplifier bank, the transmitter hulking at the far wall. “You’re talking to a man who’s as far removed from muddleheadedness — from what you and I think of as normal human error — as you are from a chimp. You’re not fit to judge his work or make smart cracks about it. Your little personality twists aren’t fit for his concern. You’ve been hired to do a job here, just like the rest of us. If you can’t do it without making more trouble for him than you’re worth, get out — don’t add to his burden. He’s got enough on his mind already.” Latourette flashed a deep-eyed look at Hawks. “More than enough.” His shoulders arched forward. His forearms dangled loosely and warily. “Got it straight, now?”
Barker’s expression was attentive and dispassionate as he looked at Latourette. His weight had shifted almost entirely away from his artificial leg, but there was no other sign of tension in him. He was deathly calm.
“Sam,” Hawks said, “I want you to supervise the tests on the lab receiver. It needs doing now. Then I need a check on the telemeter data from the relay tower and the Moon receiver. Let me know as soon as you’ve done that.”
Barker watched Latourette turn and stride soundlessly away down along the amplifier bank toward the receiving stage. There a group of technicians was fluoroscoping a series of test objects being transmitted to it by another team.
“Come with me, please,” Hawks said to Barker and walked slowly toward the table where the suit lay.
“So they talk about you like that around here,” Barker said, still turning his head from side to side as they walked. “No wonder you get impatient when you’re outside dealing with the big world.”
“Barker, it’s important that you concern yourself only with what you’re here to do. It’s removed from all human experience, and if you’re to go through it successfully, there are a number of things you must absorb. Let’s try to keep personalities out of this.”
“How about your boy, over there? Latourette?”
“Sam’s a very good man,” Hawks said.
“And that’s his excuse.”
“It’s his reason for being here. Ordinarily, he’d be in a sanatorium under sedation for his pain. He has an inoperable cancer. He’ll be dead next year.”
They had passed the low wall of linked gray steel cabinets. Barker’s head jerked back around. “Oh,” he said. “That’s why he’s the standard man in there. Nothing eating at the flesh. Eternal life.”
“No usual man wants to die,” Hawks said, touching Barker’s shoulder and moving him gently toward the suit. The men of the Navy crew were darting covert glances at Barker only after looking around to see if any of their teammates were watching them at that particular instant “Otherwise, the world would be swept by suicides.”
2
Hawks did not introduce Barker to the crew. He pointed to the suit as he reached the edge of the table. “Now, this is the best we can do for you in the way of protection. You get into it here, on the table, and you’ll be wheeled into the transmitter. You’ll be beamed up to the Moon receiver in it — once there, you’ll find it comfortable and easily maneuverable. You have power assists, activated by the various pressures your body puts on them. The suit will comply to all your movements. I’m told it feels like swimming. You have a selection of all the tools we know you’ll need, and a number of others we think might be called for. That’s something you’ll have to tell us afterward, if you can. It’s important that you thoroughly familiarize yourself with the operations of the suit — most of them are automatic, but it’s much better to be sure. Now I’d like you to get into it, so the ensign and his men, here, can check to see that you won’t have any difficulties.”
The naval officer in charge of the specialist crew stepped forward. “Excuse me, Doctor,” he said. “I understand the volunteer has an artificial limb.” He turned to Barker. “If you’ll please remove your trousers, sir?”
Hawks smiled uncomfortably. “I’ll hold your jacket,” he said to Barker.
Barker looked around. Beads of cold moisture appeared on his forehead. He handed the windbreaker to Hawks without turning his face toward him, opened his belt and stepped out of the slacks. He stood with them clutched in his hands, looked at Hawks, then rolled them up quickly and put them down on the edge of the table.
“Now, if you’ll just lie down in the suit, sir, we’ll see what needs adjusting.” The ensign gestured to his team and they closed in around Barker, lifting him up and putting him down on his back inside the opened suit. Barker lay rigid, staring up, and the ensign said, “Move yourself around, please — we want to make sure your muscles make firm contacts with all the servomotor pressure plates.”
Barker began stiffly moving his body.
The ensign said, “Yes, I thought so. The artificial limb will have to be built up in the region of the calf, and on the knee joint. Fidanzato—” He gestured to one of his men. “Measure those clearances and then get down to the machine shop. I want some shim plates on there. I’m sorry, sir,” he said to Barker, “but you’ll have to let my man take the leg with him. It won’t take long. Sampson — help this man off with his shirt so you can get at the shoulder strap.”