Blind Time — A Reader’s Guide

There was a regular air ram with handle. That was standard. But the second air ram hitched in opposition alongside of the standard job was new. It projected out, its business end projecting in a caliper arc beyond the standard ram, and returning to buck the standard ram. With this tool, one man could both ram the rivet and buck it with the same tool, and, since both hammer and anvil were driven, the effort was in opposition mechanically, and no great effort would be required of the operator.

But the thing that stopped Peter Wright cold was the ... the--

Several inches of the caliper were missing.

Peter reached forward gingerly and passed his fingers through the space. He felt of the ends. They were microscopically smooth, true planes of cleavage. The far end, that acted as anvil for the main ram was solid and immobile despite being separated from the framework by six inches of--nothing.

"You see," said Ben, "we need only a small port in the item we're building. For instance--" and Ben opened the closet door a crack, slid the far end inside, and then closed the door. He shoved forward and rapped the door panel with the main ram. Then pulled back and--

Rapped the inside of the door panel with the hidden end.

"If we were riveting, now, we could slip in our rivet and pull the trigger. Follow?"

"I follow, but where's the missing piece? What holds it that way?"

"The missing piece is coming," said Ben, retrieving his instrument and sitting down.

"I ... ah--" started Joe Simpkins, and then taking Peter Wright's arm in a viselike grip, pointed dramatically to his office door. "The wind," he gasped.

Wright shook his head. It was far too much for him. He was strictly out of his element, and struggling madly to keep up. The door, he saw, was swinging shut, propelled by the wind. He recalled what they had said at the portal upon entry, something about the door should be open. With a shout and a leap, Peter raced for the door.

It slammed, and Peter grabbed for the knob.

Then the glass erupted in his face; in shards it fell to the floor, and a metal piece came soaring through the air, through the glass, and circled the room. Peter's jaw was slack as he watched it flying about with no apparent plan. It poised for a minute before his chair, where Ben had held up the blindy riveter for his inspection. In Peter's imagination, he saw himself sitting there, passing his ghostly fingers through the spot where that piece of steel now hung immobile. It headed for the closet, and Ben, watching, opened the door wide. The piece slid in, moved this way and that, rapped forward against nothing and then rapped backwards toward the room--against nothing, and then floated rapidly toward the riveter itself.

With precision it approached the riveter. It came to rest easily, slipping into place with no shock, and the cleavage lines disappeared. The blindy was complete again.

"See?" said Simpkins.

"Yeah," gulped Peter, weakly.

Laconically, a workman entered, cleaned up the glass on the floor, and started to replace the shattered panel.

"I see--but I don't really believe it," said Peter, flopping into his chair.

The two men laughed uproariously.

Ben sat down and Simpkins started. "You see, the time field," he said by way of explanation. "I haven't the vaguest notion of how it works or why. I admit it. But what does happen is that during the workday, the missing sections of all blindy tools are stored in the tool room. At the end of the day, their respective tools are returned to the tool room where they restore completely. About seven to eight o'clock, the midsections emerge from the tool room and go through the motions made by the entire tool, eventually following their ah ... owners ... back to the tool room where they join. At this point, those tools required for use on the following day are placed in the temporal treater, and treated for whatever period of action is required."

"If it takes four hours for work, they're treated for four hours," put in Ben.

"And once the day's work is finished, the work itself must be moved, since where the tool fits across a barrier, now the missing piece occupies that same space. If it does not find room, the man handling the tool several hours before will not be able to set his tool."

"Which was why I couldn't enter with the riveter," added Ben.