quite like this before, I thought, never quite as bad. Might he not be mad already, perhaps?
It could be madness now, I thought, a madness born of disappointment no longer endurable, and sparked by the obituary. He had sent away his assistants and now he wanted me in the laboratory. He had never allowed me there before. Surely he meant to do something to me, to make me the subject of some insane experiment, or to kill me outright.
During the miserable, frightened nights I would plan to call the police, to run away, to-to do anything. But then morning would come and I would think surely he wasn't mad, surely he wouldn't offer me violence. Even the spitting incident was not truly violent and he had never actuary tried to hurt me physically.
So in the end I waited and on Saturday I walked to what might be my death as meekly as a chicken. Together, silently, we walked down the path that led from our dwelling to the laboratory.
The laboratory was frightening just in itself, and I stepped about gingerly, but Lancelot only said, 'Oh, stop staring about you as though something were going to hurt you. You just do as I say and look where I tell you.'
'Yes, Lancelot.' He had led me into a small room, the door of which had been padlocked. It was almost choked with objects of very strange appearance and with a great deal of wiring.
Lancelot said, 'To begin with, do you see this iron crucible?'
'Yes, Lancelot.' It was a small but deep container made out of thick metal and rusted in spots on the outside. It was covered by a coarse wire netting.
He urged me toward it and I saw that inside it was a white mouse with its front paws up on the inner side of the crucible and its small snout at the wire netting in quivering curiosity, or perhaps in anxiety. I am afraid I jumped, for to see a mouse without expecting to is startling, at least to me.
Lancelot growled, 'It won't hurt you. Now just back against the wall and watch me.'
My fears returned most forcefully. I grew horribly certain that from somewhere a lightning bolt would shoot out and incinerate me, or some monstrous thing of metal might emerge and crush me, or-or-- I closed my eyes.
But nothing happened; to me, at least. I heard only a phfft as though a small firecracker had misfired, and
Lancelot said to me, 'Well?'
I opened my eyes. He was looking at me, fairly shining with pride. I stared blankly. He said, 'Here, don't you see it, you idiot? Right here.'
A foot to one side of the crucible was a second one. I hadn't seen him put it there.
'Do you mean this second crucible?' I asked.
'It isn't quite a second crucible, but a duplicate of the first one. For all ordinary purposes, they are the same crucible, atom for atom. Compare them. You'll find the rust marks identical.'
'You made the second one out of the first?'
'Yes, but in a special way. To create matter would require a prohibitive amount of energy ordinarily. It would take the complete fission of a hundred grams of uranium to create one gram of duplicate matter, even granting perfect efficiency. The great secret I have stumbled on is that the duplication of an object at a point in future time requires very little energy if that energy is applied correctly. The essence of the feat, my-my dear, in my creating such a duplicate and bringing it back is that I have accomplished the equivalent of time travel.'
It was the measure of his triumph and happiness that he actually used an affectionate term in speaking to me.
'Isn't that remarkable?' I said, for to tell the truth, I was impressed. 'Did the mouse come too?'
I looked inside the second cubicle as I asked that and got another nasty shock. It contained a white mouse-a dead white mouse.
Lancelot turned faintly pink. That is a shortcoming. I can bring back living matter, but not as living matter.
It comes back dead.'
'Oh, what a shame. Why?'
'I don't know yet. I imagine the duplications are completely perfect on the atomic scale. Certainly there is no visible damage. Dissections show that.'
'You might ask-' I stopped myself quickly as he glanced at me. I decided I had better not suggest a collaboration of any sort, for I knew from experience that in that case the collaborator would invariably get all the credit for the discovery.