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    Perchance to Dream
    Perchance to Dream
    Perchance to Dream
    Ebook46 pages32 minutes

    Perchance to Dream

    By Richard Stockham

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateNov 26, 2013
    Perchance to Dream

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      Book preview

      Perchance to Dream - Richard Stockham

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Perchance to Dream, by Richard Stockham

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Perchance to Dream

      Author: Richard Stockham

      Illustrator: Kelly Freas

      Release Date: June 17, 2010 [EBook #32859]

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PERCHANCE TO DREAM ***

      Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online

      Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net

      PERCHANCE TO DREAM

      By Richard Stockham

      Illustrated by Kelly Freas

      [Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction May 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]

      If you wish to escape, if you would go to faraway places, then go to sleep and dream. For sometimes that is the only way....

      All along the line of machines, the men's hands and arms worked like the legs of spiders spinning a web. They wound wire and hammered bolts, tied knots and welded pieces of steel and fitted gears. They did not look at each other or sing or whistle or talk or laugh.

      And then—he made a mistake.

      Instantly he stepped back and a trouble shooter moved into his place. The trouble shooter's hands flew over the controls.

      The trouble shooter finished and the workman took his place. His arms moved ceaselessly again.

      He was a tall man, slim and wiry, his dress identical to that of the others—grey coveralls that fit like tights.

      Suddenly a red light flashed in his eyes and he began to tremble. He took two steps backward. The trouble shooter moved into the empty space.

      The man stood for a moment, like a soldier at attention, turned and walked smartly toward the mouth of a corridor.

      The silence was like a motion picture with a dead sound track. There was only motion—and him walking down the line of machines where the hands reached out, working, working.

      In the corridor now, he looked straight ahead, marching. The walls glowed like water beneath a shallow sea.

      He raised his arm, felt the door strike and the heel of his hand; felt it swing open; saw the desk suspended from the ceiling by luminous, silver chains.

      A man with a massive, white-maned head and a pink, smiling face rose from behind the desk. His suit was like that of a general.

      Well, Twenty-three. The Superfather stared down

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