Page 6 of Desperate Games


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‘“Well… it’s the synchronous motor.”

‘“What’s wrong with the synchronous motor, has it broken down?”

‘“On the contrary.”

‘“What do you mean, on the contrary?”

‘He was looking more and more sheepish.

‘“It’s running,” he said without daring to look at me.

‘“What do you mean? It isn’t running smoothly? Tell me!” I said impatiently.

‘He ended up by confessing to me, blushing with embarrassment:

‘“It’s running and I don’t know how to stop it. When Joë left he forgot to do it. I don’t know anything about the control board, and doing something wrong might cause damage.”

‘Joë was our mechanic. I’ve forgotten his second name, but I can still see him: a serene black man, uneducated, but very conscientious in his work. It was the first time that he had been negligent.

‘I gave a little mocking whistle. “What a nuisance! Is it such a serious problem, that you have to disturb the head of the laboratory, just to turn a lever and press a button? And are you alone over there?”

‘“No, there’s the other assistant. Only…”

‘“Only what?”

‘“He’s as embarrassed as me. He has no idea how to stop the motor either. But nevertheless we can’t let it run all night.”

‘He was quite right about that. In spite of being in a rotten mood, I realised that I ought to go over there. I slipped my clothes on over my pyjamas and, grumbling as I did so, I got ready to follow him.

‘I had done all these things without thinking about it, only cursing the fact that it was my responsibility. We made our way to the laboratory, which was fortunately not very far away. A thought suddenly struck me and I slowed down.

‘“All the same,” I said to him, “don’t you think it would have been simpler to go and wake Joë?”

‘He looked up at the sky and replied that he had spent two hours searching for Joë, but that Joë could not be found. That only deepened my bad mood and embarrassment for I must confess to you that, although I had been working there for two years, I had just realised that I had no idea how to go about stopping the motor.’

‘I thought that would be the case,’ said Betty.

‘Yet by then I could not go back, and so we went into the lab. It seemed to me that the motor was running smoothly, under the worried eye of the other assistant, who let out a sigh of relief on seeing me. I had a rather painful moment of indecision in front of the control board, not daring to touch a button for fear of causing an accident. I hesitated, and then decided to confess my embarrassment to the two young men and laugh it off with them.

‘“All the same, we must deal with it,” I said finally. There must be an assembly diagram somewhere that will put us on the right track.”

‘We started to rummage around in all the cupboards, and all the drawers. It was a waste of effort. There was not the slightest sign of anything relating to the board whose brass fittings Joë shined every day. The motor continued to run and its purring sounded like a sarcastic comment, only infuriating us.

‘There we were, the three of us trying to trace the cables that disappeared under ebonite, when the door was pushed open, and we were surprised to see O’Kearn himself appear. The boss was returning on foot from the cinema, had seen the light and had come to see what was happening. The humiliation of having to confess to him our incompetence was moderated by our relief at realising that our problems were over. Without further delay I put him in the picture about the situation.

‘He had the same sequence of reactions as I had had. First his eyes lit up with a mocking smile, then he showed signs of being in a bad mood, and then, suddenly, his face darkened. I understood at once. He, the greatest scholar of his time, who had created this research centre, was himself incapable of stopping this ordinary motor. We looked each other in the eye. He had a sense of humour and he burst out laughing.

‘The rest of the story is of no interest. I set up a supervision rota for the two young assistants, who spent the rest of the night taking it in turns by the motor. I don’t know exactly why we did this however, as, if on a whim it had decided not to run smoothly, no one would have known how to fix it. At the very most we could have poured a few drops of oil in a bearing from time to time, as I recalled seeing Joë do. In the end everything went well, and when Joë arrived the next morning, the apparatus stopped quietly as soon as he pressed a button. I have no need to repeat the insults we showered the poor man with… There you are, Zarratoff.’

‘I understand,’ said Yranne, ‘for I have an interesting suggestion to make. You scholars of atomic theory, masters of energy. Haven’t you imagined some procedure to modify the earth’s axis of rotation, wreaking havoc with the climate everywhere? No one would have any resistance against the threat of such a cataclysm. You will tell me that it would be an easy task for you, but that you would need an army of Joës.’

‘Probably, but you know very well that it cannot be realised with our current level of knowledge.’

‘I am very much aware of that,’ Yranne insisted, defending his idea. ‘We all know that, but those louts who govern us don’t. Spread the rumour that you have made a discovery of this kind. Spread a little publicity around, and you will stir up a threat. They accepted the miracle of the atomic bomb. They’re perfectly ready to accept the idea of another such feat on your part. They will swallow this mistake like a lozenge and be really scared. I am saying this in all seriousness.’

‘Good God,’ said Zarratoff, interrupting, ‘Just once in my life, I had a conversation with a minister. I noticed after ten minutes that he was very proud of knowing that the earth moved around the sun. His knowledge of the world did not extend much beyond this. He had no idea that the sun is also a star, and as for the idea of a galaxy, that was just a poetic word to him, with no real meaning.’

‘And what do psychologists think about that?’ asked Fawell.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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