"Henry Kuttner (as Lewis Padgett) - The Twonky UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kuttner Henry)

THE TWONKY

by

LEWIS PADGETT



















*



THE TURNOVER at Mideastern Radio was so great that Mickey Lloyd couldnТt keep track of his men. It wasnТt only the draft; employees kept quitting and going elsewhere, at a higher salary. So when the big-headed little man in overalls wandered vaguely out of a storeroom, Lloyd took one look at the brown dungaree suitЧcompany providedЧand said mildly, УThe whistle blew half an hour ago. Hop to work.Ф
УWork-k-k?Ф The man seemed to have trouble with the word.
Drunk? Lloyd, in his capacity as foreman, couldnТt permit that. He flipped away his cigarette, walked forward, and sniffed. No, it wasnТt liquor. He peered at the badge on the manТs overalls.
УTwo-oh-four, rn-mm. Are you new here?Ф
УNew. Huh?Ф The man rubbed a rising bump on his forehead. He was an odd-looking little chap, bald as a vacuum tube, with a pinched, pallid face and tiny eyes that held dazed wonder.
УCome on, Joe. Wake up!Ф Lloyd was beginning to sound impatient. УYou work here, donТt you?Ф
УJoe,Ф said the man thoughtfully. УWork. Yes, I work. I make them.Ф His words ran together oddly, as though he had a cleft palate.
With another glance at the badge, Lloyd gripped JoeТs arm and ran him through the assembly room. УHereТs your place. Hop to it. Know what to do?Ф
The other drew his scrawny body erect. УI amЧexpert,Ф he remarked. УMake them better than Ponthwank.Ф
У0. K.,Ф Lloyd said. УMake Сem, then.Ф And he went away.
The man called Joe hesitated, nursing the bruise on his head. The overalls caught his attention, and he examined them wonderingly. WhereЧoh, yes. They had been hanging in the room from which he had first emerged. His own garments had, naturally, dissipated during the tripЧwhat trip?
Amnesia, he thought. He had fallen from the . . . the something
Х . . when it slowed down and stopped. How odd this huge, machinefilled barn looked. It struck no chord of remembrance.
Amnesia, that was it. He was a worker. He made things. As for the unfamiliarity of his surroundings, that meant nothing. He was still dazed. The clouds would lift from his mind presently. They were beginning to do that already.
Work. Joe scuttled around the room, trying to goad his faulty memory. Men in overalls were doing things. Simple,, obvious things. But how childishЧhow elemental! Perhaps this was a kindergarten.
After a while Joe went out into a stock room and examined some finished models of combination radio-phonographs. So that was it. Awkward and clumsy, but it wasnТt his place to say so. No. His job was to make Twonkies.
Twonkies? The name jolted his memory again. Of course he knew how to ~make Twonkies. HeТd made them all his lifeЧhad been specially trained for the job. Now they were using a different model of Twonky, but what the hell! ChildТs play for a clever workman.
Joe went back into the shop and found a vacant bench. He began to build a Twonky. Occasionally he slipped off and stole the material he needed. Once, when he couldnТt locate any tungsten, he hastily built a small gadget and made it.
His bench was in a distant corner, badly lighted, though it seemed quite bright to JoeТs eyes. Nobody noticed the console that was swiftly growing to completion there. Joe worked very, very fast. He ignored the noon whistle, and, at quitting time, his task was finished. It could,
perhaps, stand another coat of paintЧit lacked the Shimmertone of a standard Twonky. But none of the others had Shimmertone. Joe sighed, crawled under the bench, looked in vain for a relaxopad, and went to sleep on the floor.
A few hours later he woke up. The factory was empty. Odd! Maybe the working hours had changed. MaybeЧ JoeТs mind felt funny. Sleep had cleared away the mists of amnesia, if such it had been, but he still felt dazed.
Muttering under his breath, he sent the Twonky into the stock room and compared it with the others. Superficially it was identical with a console radio-phonograph combination of the latest model. Following the pattern of the others, Joe had camouflaged and disguised the various organs and reactors.