ctured to baffle people, any more
than our devices generally are. But it's only by trying everything
that somebody who didn't know what a switch is would start up a vacuum
cleaner, say, or light a big chandelier from a wall clear across the
room.

I'd pressed every inch of the box, hoping some part of it might act as
a switch, and I finally touched one of the spindles. The spool
immediately began spinning at a very low speed and the screen on the
wall opposite the window glowed into life.

"The history of the exploration of the Solar System," said an
announcer's deep voice, "is one of the most adventuresome in
mankind's long list of achievements. Beginning with the crude rockets
developed during World War II...."

There were newsreel shots of V-1 and V-2 being blasted from their
takeoff ramps and a montage of later experimental models. I wished I
could see how it all turned out, but I was afraid to waste the time
watching. At any moment, I might hear the footsteps of a guard or
janitor or whoever tended buildings then.

I pushed the spindle again. It checked the spool, which rewound
swiftly and silently, and stopped itself when the rewinding was
finished. I tried another. A nightmare underwater scene appeared.

"With the aid of energy screens," said another voice, "the oceans of
the world were completely charted by the year 2027...."

I turned it off, then another on developments in medicine, one on
architecture, one on history, the geography of such places as the
interior of South America and Africa that were--or are--unknown today,
and I was getting frantic, starting the wonderful wire films that held
full-frequency sound and pictures in absolutely faithful color, and
shutting them off hastily when I discovered they didn't have what I
was looking for.

[Illustration]

They were courses for children, but they all contained information
that our scientists are still groping for ... and I couldn't chance
watching one all the way through!

I was frustratedly switching off a film on psychology when a female
voice said from the door, "May I help you?"

* * * * *

I snapped around to face her in sudden fright. She was young and slim
and slight, but she could scream loud enough to get help. Judging by
the way she was looking at me, outwardly polite and yet visibly
nervous, that scream would be coming at any second.

"I must have wandered in here by mistake," I said, and pushed pas