Short Stories by Robert A. Heinlein Vol 2 Part 77

The most difficult and the most interesting aspect of the investigation had to do with the neurological system in relation to Other s.p.a.ce.

Neither electromagnetic instruments nor neural surgery was refined enough to do accurate work on the levels he wished to investigate.

But he had waldoes.

The smallest waldoes he had used up to this time were approximately half an inch across their palms - with micro-scanners to match, of course.

They were much too gross for his purpose. He wished to manipulate living nerve tissue, examine its insulation and its performance in situ.

He used the tiny waldoes to create tinier ones.

The last stage was tiny metal blossoms hardly an eighth of an inch across.

The helices in their stems, or forearms, which served them as pseudo muscles, could hardly be seen by the naked eye - but then, he used scanners.

His final team of waldoes used for nerve and brain surgery varied in succeeding stages from mechanical hands nearly lifesize down to these fairy digits which could manipulate things much too small for the eye to see. They were mounted in bank to work in the same locus. Waldo controlled them all from the same primaries; he could switch from one size to another without removing his gauntlets.

The same change in circuits which brought another size of waldoes under control automatically accomplished the change in sweep of scanning to increase or decrease the magnification so that Waldo always saw before him in his stereo receiver a 'life-size' image of his other hands.

Each level of waldoes had its own surgical instruments, its own electrical equipment.

Such surgery had never been seen before, but Waldo gave that aspect little thought; no one had told him that such surgery was unheard-of.

He established, to his own satisfaction, the mechanism whereby short- wave radiation had produced a deterioration in human physical performance. The synapses between dendrites acted as if they were points of leakage. Nerve impulses would sometimes fail to make the jump, would leak off - to where? To Other s.p.a.ce, he was sure. Such leakage seemed to establish a preferred path, a ca.n.a.lization, whereby the condition of the victim became steadily worse. Motor action was not lost entirely, as both paths were still available, but efficiency was lost. It reminded him of a metallic electrical circuit with a partial ground.

An unfortunate cat, which had become dead undergoing the experimentation, had supplied him with much of his data. The kitten had been born and raised free from exposure to power radiation. He subjected it to heavy exposure and saw it acquire a myasthenia nearly as complete as his own - while studying in minute detail what actually went on in its nerve tissues. He felt quite sentimental about it when it died.

Yet, if Gramps Schneider were right, human beings need not be damaged by radiation. If they had the wit to look at it with the proper orientation, the radiation would not affect them; they might even draw power out of the

Other World.

That was what Grarnps Schneider had told him to do.

That was what Gramps Schneider had told him to do!

Gramps Schneider had told him he need not be weak!

That he could be strong-Strong!

STRONG!.

He had never thought of it. Schneider's friendly ministrations to him, his ] advice about overcoming the weakness, he had ignored, had thrown off as inconsequential. His own weakness, his own peculiarity which made him different from the smooth apes, he had regarded as a basic, implicit fact. He had accepted it as established when he was a small child, a final unquestioned factor.

Naturally he had paid no attention to Schneider's words in so far as they referred to him.

To be strong!

To stand alone - to walk, to run!

Why, he ... he could, he could go down to Earth surface without fear. He wouldn't mind the field. They said they didn't mind it; they even carried things - great, heavy things. Everybody did. They threw things.

He made a sudden convulsive movement in his primary waldoes, quite unlike his normal, beautifully economical rhythm. The secondaries were oversize, as he was making a new setup. The guys tore loose, a brace plate banged against the wall.

Baldur was snoozing nearby; he p.r.i.c.ked up his ears, looked around, then turned his face to Waldo, questioning him.

Waldo glared at him and the dog whined. 'Shut up!'

The dog quieted and apologized with his eyes.

Automatically he looked over the damage - not much, but he would have to fix it.

Strength. Why, if he were strong, he could do anything - anything! No 6 extension waldoes and some new guys- Strong! Absent-mindedly he s.h.i.+fted to the No 6 waldoes.

Strength!

He could even meet women - be stronger than they were!

He could swim. He could ride. He could fly a s.h.i.+p - run, jump. He could handle things with his bare hands. He could even learn to dance!

Strong!

He would have muscles! He could break things.

He could- He could- He switched to the great waldoes with hands the size of a man's body. Strong - they were strong! With one giant waldo he hauled from the stock pile a quarter-inch steel plate, held it up, and shook it. A booming rumble.

He shook it again. Strong'

He took it in both waldoes, bent it double. The metal buckled unevenly.

Convulsively he crumpled it like wastepaper between the two huge palms.

The grinding racket raised hackles on Baldur; he himself had not been aware of it. He relaxed for a moment, gasping. There was sweat on his forehead; blood throbbed in his ears. But he was not spent; he wanted something heavier~ stronger.

Cutting to the adjoining storeroom he selected an L-beam twelve feet long, shoved it through to where the giant hands could reach it, and cut back to them.

The beam was askew in the port; he wrenched it loose, knocking a big dent in the port frame. He did not notice it.

The beam made a fine club in the gross fist. He brandished it. Baldur backed away, placing the control ring between himself and the great hands.

Power! Strength! Smas.h.i.+ng, unbeatable strength- With a spastic jerk he checked his swing just before the beam touched the wall. No- But he grabbed the other end of the club with the left waldo and tried to bend it. The big waldoes were built for heavy work, but the beam was built to resist. He strained inside the primaries, strove to force the great fists to do his will. A warning light flashed on his control board. Bliiidly he kicked in the emergency overload and persisted.

The hum of the waldoes and the rasp of his own breath were drowned out by the harsh sc.r.a.pe of metal on metal as the beam began to give way. Exulting, he bore down harder in the primaries. The beam was bending double when the waldobs blew out. The right-hand tractors let go first; the fist flung open. The left fist, relieved of the strain, threw the steel from it.

It tore its way through the thin bulkhead, making a ragged hole, crashed and clanged in the room beyond.

But the giant waldoes were inanimate junk.

He drew his soft pink hands from the waldoes and looked at them. His shoulders heaved, and racking sobs pushed up out of him. He covered his face with his hands; the tears leaked out between his fingers. Baldur whimpered and edged in closer.