Compound interest -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories
At this point in the professor's lecture, the frosted glass square which
hitherto had shown no image, now filled up. Sternly he gazed at the head
and shoulders that had just appeared.
"B262H72476Male, you are late to class again. What excuse have you to
offer today?"
From the hollow cylinder emanated a shrill voice, while the lips of the
picture on the glass square moved in unison with the words:
"Professor, you will perceive by consulting your class book, that I have
recently taken up my residence near the North Pole. For some reason,
wireless communication between the Central Energy Station and all points
north of 89 degrees was cut off a while ago, on account of which fact I
could not appear in the Visaphone. Hence--"
"Enough, sir," roared the professor. "Always ready with an excuse,
B262H72476Male. I shall immediately investigate your tale."
From his coat pocket, the professor withdrew an instrument which,
although supplied with an earpiece and a mouthpiece, had no wires
whatever attached. Raising it to his lips, he spoke:
"Hello. Central Energy Station, please." A pause ensued. "Central Energy
Station? This is the professor of history at the University of Terra,
speaking. One of my students informs me that the North Pole region was
out of communication with the Visaphone System this morning. Is that
statement true? I would--"
A voice, apparently from nowhere, spoke into the professor's ear. "Quite
true, Professor. A train of our ether waves accidently fell into
parallelism with a train of waves from the Venus Substation. By the most
peculiar mischance, the two trains happened to be displaced, with
reference to each other, one half of a wave length, with the unfortunate
result that the negative points of one coincided with the positive
points of maximum amplitude of the other. Hence the two wave trains
nullified each other and communication ceased for one hundred and
eighty-five seconds--until the earth had revolved far enough to throw
them out of parallelism."
"Ah! Thank you," replied the professor. He dropped his instrument into
his coat pocket and gazed in the direction of the glass square whose
image had so aroused his ire. "I apologize, B262H72476Male, for my
suspicions as to your veracity--but I had in mind several former
experiences." He shook a warning forefinger. "I will now resume my
talk."
"A moment ago, gentlemen, I mentioned the John Jones Dollar. Some of you
who have just enrolled with the class will undoubtedly say to
yourselves: 'What is a John Jones? What is a Dollar?'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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