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Edison looked at Charles and frowned. Then he said, "I know what to do." He stood for a moment, his hands on his hips. "Now go away and let me work." Charles turned, relieved. He shook his father"s hand and said, "If there is anything I can do to help you with your work, father, please don"t hesitate to ask for it." Charles went away, a little unutterably anxious about the old man, wondering if he had grasped the situation, and whether he was right in the way he had acted.

Edison watched with wonder as his operation poured water into the sewers. Never had he been so in his own power. True, he was much older than the average man in his employ. True, he had more or less given up his original scheme of working to solve the problem of life support. All of his attention had turned to the storage battery that bore his name and image. And yet, in the circumstances, his ingenuity and energy made him master of the situation.

As he stood on the streets, waiting for the fire to go out, Edison thought that all of his troubles over the past few years were a kind of rehearsal for the terrible conundrum he had just faced. The machine groups had been his dramatic proof of the glorious future. And now it had come to him, thrusting him into a crisis that he had to face in order to understand himself and the world he had been living in. It was all too much for him. He shook his head, as if in rebuke, and whispered, "It was foolish of me to begin this, in the way I did." His attention was caught by something out of the corner of his eye. He turned.

A tall man, white-haired, stood beside him, his eyes narrowed. He touched Edison on the shoulder. "That man down there," he said, "he is a shame to our people. There is no law or order in his mind. He has been here but a little while, but he has formed an organization. Some day I shall have him stopped and his followers arrested." Edison stared at him. "You don"t understand," the white-haired man continued. "He gives his followers nothing, only tells them they are the chosen ones. He refuses to bow down to the man of the law. He knows he is a criminal. He knows that, sooner or later, he must be punished. He refuses to worship the dollar and defend it. Even now, he is a nightmare and a plague upon the people. He does everything possible to show how much contempt he holds the organized world." Edison started to speak, but the white-haired man cut him off. "Listen to me," he said, "and learn what you can. He will lead you to a door, and you will fall through it into a different world.

Edison's last years were a trial to Paul. Hed climbed into his grave on the first of October 1917. The episode with the electrical was finally over. He seemed to be the man Hed knew. Paul could not believe it. Hed was at peace. Still, Paul was happy for his old mentor. He was more than ready to come out of the scholastic cave and meet people. Hed felt no wish to stay in the museum that was being built for him. Hed had lost something he had always liked. Hed was breaking with the museum world, and Paul was happy for him. He planned to do the same. Paul found the studio building that he had decided to move into for himself, and went to work. He introduced himself, and the girl took his hand and wriggled closer to him. Her perfume was reminiscent of the flowers she had been selling in the fields. Paul led her out of the room and down the hall, stopping at the lockers. He leaned against his locker, put his arm round her shoulders, and began talking. He talked for nearly an hour, telling her about Edison and his inventions. They married after they decided to do so. Paul quit his job at Central and went back to work for Edison. He soon discovered that all of the subjects he knew were of no interest to his wife. Karen was intelligent, but she was essentially an inveterate neat-freak. When Paul entered the kitchen after a late-night car trip, one of his favorite things was to kiss the bridge of her nose in the way he did to her. He said that the kiss made her seem more human, more desirable. Paul, it seemed, had lived in a world where everything was perfect. The perfect houses, the perfect roads, the perfect wife, the perfect children. 5ec8ef588b

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