NBC ANNCR:

We delay the start of this program to bring you a special bulletin. From the NBC newsroom in New York. Truckloads of U.S. fighting men are rolling north from Taejon, Korea to reinforce South Korea's battered army which still holds Suwon and its vital airstrip. The first American ground troops flown in from Japan, they're now approaching the combat zone. Meanwhile, the North Korean Communists report that American planes have bombed their capital of Pyongyang three times today. Keep tuned to your NBC station for the later news.

HOST:

Adventures in Time and Space, told in Future Tense.

SFX:

OMINOUS RUMBLE ... CYMBAL CRASH

HOST:

(HEAVY ECHO) DIMENSION X-x-x-x-x- (TRAILS OFF)

MFX:

OMINOUS FUTURISTIC PERCUSSION ... THEN IN BG

HOST:

To all our listeners, a brief foreword before tonight's adventure in the world of the future. Beginning next week, DIMENSION X moves to a new time on Friday evenings instead of Saturdays. In the Eastern time zone, it will be heard at nine o'clock Fridays, Eastern Daylight Saving Time. In other zones, please consult your local newspapers to learn the new time of the program.

MFX:

WEIRD ACCENT ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

HOST:

Now, tonight's venture into the world of tomorrow, a most unusual story about "A Logic Named Joe" and a man named Frank. [X] And of how he saved civilization.

MFX:

ACCENT ... THEN IN BG, FADES OUT GENTLY BY [Y]

FRANK:

(NARRATES) It was on the third day of August that Joe came off the assembly line. On the fourth, Laurine came into town. And that afternoon, I saved civilization. Laurine's a blonde I was crazy about once and Joe is a new Nineteen Seventy-Four model Logic that I got stored away down in the cellar. And how do I save civilization? I save it by keepin' Joe down in the cellar. (FADES, CONTINUES IN BG, INDECIPHERABLE, FADES OUT DURING FOLLOWING) Sometimes I think about turning Joe on letting him make a million for me...

HOST:

(OVERLAPS FRANK) You are listening now to a voice from the future, the voice of Frank Caldwell, head serviceman for the Logics Corporation, makers of "The Machine That Does Everything For You." Hm, well, nearly everything anyway. In the year we speak of, Nineteen Seventy-Four, the electronic Logic sets were working so well that life was soft indeed for repairman Frank Caldwell. [Y] That is, until that fatal day of August the third, when suddenly the Logics began doing everything for their users -- and doing it too well.

SFX:

DOOR OPENS, FOOTSTEPS IN, DOOR CLOSES

FRANK:

Hi, boss. What's the matter? Somebody put you through a ringer?

BOSS:

Uh, Frank, you busy right now?

FRANK:

Naw, there haven't been any service calls all day.

BOSS:

Fine. There's a customer outside. Go take care of him, will ya?

FRANK:

Me? I'm a maintenance man.

BOSS:

I know, but there are no salesmen around this minute. This guy wants to have our machines explained to him.

FRANK:

Explained?

BOSS:

Yeah.

FRANK:

Everybody in the world knows about Logics. Where's he been? On Mars?

BOSS:

Just moved up from the backwoods someplace.

FRANK:

Why don't you explain 'em?

BOSS:

I - I don't feel too well.

FRANK:

Yeah? You were okay about a half an hour ago.

BOSS:

Look, you the boss here or am I? Go on out there, will ya?

FRANK:

Okay, okay.

SFX:

FOOTSTEPS TO DOOR WHICH OPENS AND CLOSES

FRANK:

Good morning. My name's Caldwell. Can I help you?

KORLANOVITCH:

Oh, uh, thank you, Mr. Caldwell. My name's Korlanovitch. This is my little boy, Freddie.

FRANK:

Hiya, Freddie.

FREDDIE:

Hiya -- JERK!

SFX:

SIMULTANEOUSLY, FREDDIE KICKS FRANK IN SHIN

FRANK:

Ouch!

KORLANOVITCH:

(MILDLY ADMONISHES) Oh, Freddie.

FREDDIE:

(PROUD) I got ya, didn't I?! (LAUGHS UNINHIBITEDLY)

FRANK:

Fine kid you got there.

KORLANOVITCH:

(NOT VERY STERN) Freddie, how many times I gotta tell you not to kick people in the shins? (CHUCKLES INDULGENTLY) Excuse him, please, Mr. Caldwell. He's--

FRANK:

Sure, sure, just a kid.

FREDDIE:

I got a knife home; can cut ya in little pieces!

KORLANOVITCH:

Freddie! We - we'd like to buy a Logic, Mr. Caldwell. The gentleman we spoke to first said he had to leave in a hurry.

FRANK:

Oh, he did, huh? Well, I understand you're not acquainted with Logics, Mr. Korlanovitch.

KORLANOVITCH:

Yeah, that's right. We just moved to the city. My wife, she saw that everybody else had a Logic and-- Heh! You know how women are.

FRANK:

You bet, you bet. Well, you can't get along without a Logic in this day and age, Mr. Korlanovitch.

FREDDIE:

Lookit, I got a snake! Wanna see it?

FRANK:

Will you shut up--? (RECOVERS) Uhm, uh-- Yeah, now, about the Logic--

KORLANOVITCH:

Yeah.

FRANK:

Here, I'll plug one in here. There, now. You see, the Logic looks kinda like an old-fashioned television set, only it's got keys instead of dials.

KORLANOVITCH:

Hmm.

FRANK:

Now, if you want to talk to a friend ...

KORLANOVITCH:

Yeah?

FRANK:

... you just punch the number of his Logic.

KORLANOVITCH:

Huh.

FRANK:

Like makin' an old-fashioned phone call, except you not only hear him, but you see him, too, on this viewing screen here. Now, of course, that's not the important feature of these things.

KORLANOVITCH:

Oh?

FRANK:

Now, uh, suppose you want to ask a question.

KORLANOVITCH:

A question?

FRANK:

Like, uh, what to take for a sore throat. Or who won the American League pennant in Nineteen Eleven? Just turn on the Logic.

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, LOGIC TURNED ON

FRANK:

Then you punch the Question Key and you ask. Like this.

SFX:

QUESTION KEY PRESSED

FRANK:

(TO THE LOGIC) Who was the first president of the United States?

SFX:

LOGIC WORKING

LOGIC:

George Washington.

FRANK:

(TRIUMPHANT) Y'see?

KORLANOVITCH:

(MILD PROTEST) I already knew that.

FRANK:

Well, that was just a sample.

KORLANOVITCH:

Oh. Well, I got a little store. Will it keep books for me?

FRANK:

It'll keep your books, record your contracts, serve as a filing system, and check up on what happened to your lawyer's last client. Anything.

KORLANOVITCH:

Say, they're really something, these things.

FRANK:

Ten thousand services and information sources in one. Read our advertising.

KORLANOVITCH:

Well, what I want to know, Mr. Caldwell-- How do these Logics work?

FRANK:

You saw that big building across the street?

KORLANOVITCH:

Sure.

FRANK:

Well, that's one of the relay tanks. Now, there are dozens of 'em around the country, all hooked up together. And there's a data-plate in one of those tanks for every fact in creation.

KORLANOVITCH:

You mean those relays know everything?

FRANK:

If there's something they don't know, the technicians are busy making a relay plate for it right now. The Logic integrates the facts in the tank and gives you the answers.

FREDDIE:

Hey, you! Can I ask this thing how to make dart poison?

FRANK:

How to make what?

FRANK:

Dart poison! Like in Africa! I could shoot the darts from my pea-shooter!

KORLANOVITCH:

(SUDDENLY NERVOUS) Oh, well, maybe-- I think maybe we better not get one of these things.

FRANK:

That's okay, Mr. Korlanovitch. The Logic won't tell you about no "dart poison," see?

FREDDIE:

Bet it will. I'm gonna try it!

SFX:

QUESTION KEY PRESSED

FREDDIE:

(TO THE LOGIC) Hey! How do ya make dart poison?!

SFX:

LOGIC WORKING

LOGIC:

Public policy forbids this service.

FREDDIE:

Ah, what'd it do that for?

FRANK:

On account of some little brat-- (RECOVERS, SWEETLY) On account of some -- children might ask things that ain't good for them.

FREDDIE:

Listen, I don't like this here one, I want that one over there!

FRANK:

They're all alike, kid.

FREDDIE:

I want that one! If I can't have that one, I'm gonna hold my breath till I'm dead!

FRANK:

Well. I got lots of time.

KORLANOVITCH:

(APOLOGETIC) It's no use, Mr. Caldwell. You might as well give him the one he wants.

FRANK:

But, kid, they're so much alike, even I can't tell 'em apart.

FREDDIE:

I can! And I want Joe!

FRANK:

Joe? Who's Joe?

KORLANOVITCH:

Oh, I guess he means the Logic, Mr. Caldwell. He has to think up a name to call everything. (WEARILY) You should hear the names he calls me.

FREDDIE:

Not till I'm twenty-one. I promised Mother.

FRANK:

Okay. So we call him "Joe." But what makes you think Joe's any different from the rest?

FREDDIE:

He looks different somehow.

FRANK:

Don't be silly. Them things are all alike, to one-ten-thousandth of an inch.

FREDDIE:

Just the same, I'll bet he'll teach me how to make dart poison.

FRANK:

Okay, then. Come on -- "Joe."

MFX:

BRIDGE

SFX:

CARD GAME IN PROGRESS, IN BG

FRANK:

(IN MID-CONVERSATION) So he keeps yellin', (MIMICS) "I want that one, I want that one. I'm gonna call him 'Joe!'" Mike, I coulda wrung his neck. I coulda--

MIKE:

How many cards, Charlie?

CHARLIE:

I pass.

FRANK:

I'll draw two. Boy, what a holy terror. He had his father scared to death.

MIKE:

Too bad that kid ain't mine. I'd show him quick enough who is boss in the family.

SFX:

CHAIR SCRAPES

MIKE:

Holy smoke!

FRANK:

What's the matter?

MIKE:

Sorry, fellas. Gotta hold up the hand a minute.

BUDDY:

What?

MIKE:

I just remembered. Gotta call my wife.

CHARLIE:

Oh, let her wait a minute.

BUDDY:

Yeah, sure.

MIKE:

You ever met my wife?

FRANK:

Yeah, I did. (CHUCKLES) Don't let her see the card game or she'll be down here with a hatchet!

MIKE:

You tellin' me!

BIZ:

ALL LAUGH

SFX:

TYPING ... LOGIC MAKES ODD NOISES

MIKE:

Hey, what's the matter with this thing? It ain't gettin' my house.

LOGIC:

Announcing new and improved Logics Service. Your Logic is now equipped to give not only consultive but directive advice. If you want to do something and don't know how to do it -- Ask Your Logic.

BIZ:

ALL REACT

CHARLIE:

Well, what do you know about that? Eh, it's just somebody tryin' to pull a gag.

BUDDY:

Yeah.

MIKE:

Didn't sound like a gag to me. Maybe the boss decided to add a new Logic service?

FRANK:

No. The boss knows better than to start anything like that. Why, look, the minute the system starts giving advice, some joker like you's gonna be askin' questions like, "How can I get rid of my wife?"

MIKE:

Yeah, but you heard what the Logic just said--

FRANK:

Nah, the censor-circuits'll block the question. (NO RESPONSE) You don't believe me? Go on, try it.

MIKE:

Heh. Okay. Anything for a laugh.

BUDDY:

Yeah.

CHARLIE:

Try it, try it.

SFX:

QUESTION KEY PRESSED

MIKE:

Okay, Logic, I got a question for ya. How do I get rid o' my wife?

SFX:

LOGIC WORKING

LOGIC:

Service question -- Is your wife blonde or brunette?

MIKE:

(LAUGHS) Did you guys hear that? (TO THE LOGIC) She's a blonde.

SFX:

LOGIC WORKING

LOGIC:

Hexy-cryloaminoatine is a constituent of green shoe polish. Take home a frozen meal containing pea soup. Color the soup with green shoe polish. This poison is fatal to blonde females only. This fact has not been brought out by human experiment, but is a product of Logics Service. You cannot be convicted of murder. It is improbable that you will be suspected.

BIZ:

ALL AD LIB SURPRISE

CHARLIE:

The Saints preserve us!

FRANK:

It's bound to be right. These things can't make a mistake. Well, Mike, don't stand there. Turn that thing off. And check the censor-circuits, quick.

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, LOGIC TURNED OFF

MIKE:

We can't get to 'em. They're all sealed up. It's supposed to be impossible for 'em to go out of order.

FRANK:

Well, they're out of order now! And I got a feelin' some awful things are gonna happen.

MFX:

ACCENT ... BRIDGE

FRANK:

Boss, we gotta do somethin'! The Logics have gone nuts!

BOSS:

Relax. The thing gave a goofy answer once. Maybe it was a joke.

FRANK:

Who ever heard of a Logic makin' a joke?

BOSS:

Well, it was an accident. Forget it. It won't happen again.

FRANK:

What makes you so sure? People are gonna be tryin' it. Now look, supposing I wanted to get rid of you, for instance.

BOSS:

You don't. How would you collect your pay?

FRANK:

Yeah, but supposin'. Now, I'm gonna try it and see what the Logic says.

SFX:

QUESTION KEY PRESSED

LOGIC:

If you want to do something and don't know how -- Ask Your Logic.

FRANK:

(TO THE LOGIC) How do I bump off my boss?

BOSS:

Huh?!

FRANK:

(TO THE LOGIC) Male. Bald-headed. Forty-five.

SFX:

LOGIC WORKING

LOGIC:

Service question -- Is he fat or thin?

BOSS:

Holy mackerel!

FRANK:

Fat.

SFX:

LOGIC WORKING

LOGIC:

Make some chocolate ice cream containing powdered charcoal in place of half the chocolate. Use Hotso brand charcoal. Hotso contains an ingredient fatal only to fat, bald-headed males. This fact is a product of Logics Service--

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, LOGIC TURNED OFF

FRANK:

Didja hear what it said? This keeps up we'll have to shut down the company.

BOSS:

You kiddin'? We can't shut down the company and you know it. Logics do all the computing, bookkeeping, filing and recording of contracts for every business in the country. They handle all television programs, personal calls, weather forecasts, employment notices.

FRANK:

I know that, but--

BOSS:

Wake up! If we shut down the Logics, we go back to a civilization we've forgotten how to run!

FRANK:

Yeah, but the point is, boss, they're now givin' out information on murder! And no tellin' what else.

BOSS:

Well, we'll just have to find out why and fix it. Meantime, there's nothing to worry about.

FRANK:

Nothin' to worry about?

BOSS:

Of course not! You've asked these questions for a gag. Nobody's gonna ask 'em seriously. What you need is a little faith in human nature.

SFX:

LOGIC BUZZES WITH AN INCOMING CALL

BOSS:

Oh, excuse me. It's probably the wife.

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, LOGIC TURNED ON

LOGIC:

Person-to-person Video Call. Go ahead.

AGNES:

(FILTERED) Cyrus dear, how do you feel?

BOSS:

Why, just fine sweetheart.

AGNES:

(FILTERED) I just called to tell you, Cyrus, I want you to be sure and get home on time for dinner.

BOSS:

Yeah? Why?

AGNES:

(FILTERED) Because I've got a surprise for you, dear. Your favorite dessert!

BOSS:

Dessert? What kind?

AGNES:

(FILTERED) Homemade chocolate ice cream! The flavor is heavenly, Cyrus. When you taste it, you'll just die!

BOSS:

(STARTLED SHUDDER)

AGNES:

(FILTERED) Cyrus, what's wrong? (NO ANSWER) Why don't you answer me? (NO ANSWER) Cyrus?!

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, ENDING CALL

FRANK:

(TRIUMPHANT) Chocolate ice cream, huh?

BOSS:

(STUNNED) This - this can't be happening. Agnes wouldn't-- Why - why, this is dangerous!

FRANK:

"Have a little faith in human nature," huh?

BOSS:

Caldwell, you're the head of the maintenance crew. I'll give you twenty-four hours to fix these Logics or you're fired!

FRANK:

Now, look, boss, I--

BOSS:

Get me the police, get me an extra maintenance crew, get me a doctor! You!

FRANK:

Me?

BOSS:

Get moving.

FRANK:

Where?

BOSS:

Anywhere! Find out what the Logics are up to. And see that you find out before the Logics do!

MFX:

BRIDGE

SFX:

CROWDED NEIGHBORHOOD BAR ... IN BACKGROUND

FRANK:

Bartender? (NO ANSWER) Hey, Bartender? Gimme a double!

BARTENDER:

Comin' up.

DRUNK:

What'sa matter, pal? You had a bad day?

FRANK:

Go away, will ya?

DRUNK:

Oh, listen, pal, you gotta listen, I got troubles.

FRANK:

Hey, bartender! Will ya get this barfly off me? For Pete's sake, I'm tired.

BARTENDER: On your way, you.

DRUNK:

Now, don't say that. I got troubles. How am I gonna keep my wife from findin' out I had a couple o' li'l drinks? How'm I gonna do that, huh?

FRANK:

Look, mister, it's a hot day. I've been drivin' a car around in it, see?

DRUNK:

Yeah.

FRANK:

I've been tryin' to keep a bank president from having apoplexy on account o' his Logic told him how to rob his own bank! I've been trippin' over dead bodies so artistically croaked that nobody's ever gonna find out who done it. And all you got on your mind is--

DRUNK:

-- how'm I gonna keep my wife from findin' out I had a couple o' li'l drinks?

FRANK:

(EXASPERATED SIGH)

DRUNK:

How?

FRANK:

Go ask a Logic.

DRUNK:

A Logic? My pal! That's a wonderful idea! Where's a Logic?

FRANK:

Right behind you. Here's a nickel.

DRUNK:

(MUTTERING) Oh, give me a nickel, give me a nickel, gotta put it in the Logic.

BARTENDER:

(AMUSED) This I gotta hear. This is gonna be good.

SFX:

COIN DROPPED IN SLOT

DRUNK:

(LIKE HE'S PLAYING A SLOT MACHINE, TO THE LOGIC) Now, come on, Logic ol' pal, ol' pal, ol' pal. Be nice!

SFX:

QUESTION KEY PRESSED

DRUNK:

(TO THE LOGIC) How does a guy keep his wife from findin' out he's had a couple o' li'l drinks? Answer me that. How, huh?

SFX:

LOGIC WORKING

LOGIC:

Buy a bottle of Franine Hair Shampoo. It is harmless, but contains an ingredient which instantly neutralizes alcohol. One teaspoonful for each jigger you've consumed.

DRUNK:

(HAPPY, TO HIMSELF) Yeah, oh boy! I gotta buy a bottle of Frenny-- I gotta buy a bottle of Fr-- (TO THE LOGIC) What was that again?

BARTENDER:

(HELPFUL, TO THE DRUNK) Supposin' it's right, you'll never remember it as far as the drug store. I think there's a bottle in the back room. Somebody left it.

DRUNK:

(HAPPY) Oh, my pal! No more troubles! (MOVING OFF, SINGS) Show me the way to go home!

SFX:

BACK ROOM DOOR CLOSES

BARTENDER:

(CHUCKLES) I get a picture o' him back there drinking that shampoo.

FRANK:

(MISERABLE) Give me another double.

BARTENDER:

I don't know what's worse -- to be as low as you or as high as him.

SFX:

FRONT DOOR FLUNG OPEN

WIFE:

(OFF, ANGRY) All right! Where is he?! I know he's here! Where is that bum?!

BARTENDER:

Huh? Who ya want, lady?

WIFE:

(CLOSER) My husband. I know he's here! Now, where is he?

DRUNK:

(OFF, SINGS) Show me the way to go home! (CONTINUES, IN BG)

WIFE:

That no good louse! I'll show him! Thinks he can come staggering home again, does he? Well, I'll teach him!

BARTENDER:

Poor guy.

SFX:

BACK ROOM DOOR OPENS

DRUNK:

(STOPS SINGING, SUDDENLY SOBER AND SMOOTH-TALKING) Oh! My dear! What a surprise to see you here!

WIFE:

(STUNNED) Archibald?!

DRUNK:

Yes, my love?

WIFE:

You're not--?

DRUNK:

Sober? Well, of course, my love. I'm sober as a judge.

WIFE:

Then what are you doing in this saloon?

DRUNK:

Well, merely conducting a little research, my dear.

WIFE:

(SKEPTICAL) Research?!

DRUNK:

Your suspicion wounds me deeply, my love. Let me tell you, my dear, that I've been conducting a research project that is going to make us a fortune. I'm about to patent "SOBUH -- The Drink That Makes Happy Homes!"

MFX:

ACCENT ... BRIDGE

FRANK:

(WEARILY) I'm Caldwell, from the Logics company, Sergeant. I just stopped in to see--

SERGEANT:

Logics company! Listen, Caldwell, you people get those blasted machines under control or we'll have you all behind bars!

FRANK:

Now, look, Sergeant--

SERGEANT:

No! You look. At this blotter. Blank! The greatest crime wave in history and we can't even make an arrest! They're all perfect crimes!

FRANK:

Well, we're doing our best to find out--

SERGEANT:

It's not good enough! If you can't find out anything, shut down the company. Or the police department will. We know there's some big gang back of this. (SUSPICIOUS) Hey, maybe you know somethin' about it, Caldwell.

FRANK:

Now, look, nobody's back of it. The Logics run themselves. They pick their own circuits automatically.

SERGEANT:

You mean that they're doing this all by themselves?!

FRANK:

Sure. We always thought they could do more things than we knew about. I think they're just tryin' to be helpful, that's all.

SERGEANT:

Oh, that's all, is it? Well, you'd better make 'em cut out the tricks! Including this new one -- this new business they're up to now.

FRANK:

What new business?

SERGEANT:

It just started an hour ago, every time you turn on a Logic. It asks you your name -- and then spiels out the whole history of your life!

FRANK:

Huh? I hadn't heard about that. What's it do that for?

SERGEANT:

You tell me. Go on, try it.

FRANK:

Okay.

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, LOGIC TURNED ON

LOGIC:

What is your name?

FRANK:

(TO HIMSELF) Huh, how do ya like that? (TO THE LOGIC) I'm Frank Caldwell.

LOGIC:

Frank Caldwell? Were you ever called "Ducky"?

SERGEANT:

(AMUSED) Ho! Ducky!

FRANK:

Lay off, will ya? (TO THE LOGIC) Uh, what if I was? It's been years.

SFX:

LOGIC BUZZES WITH AN INCOMING CALL

LOGIC:

Ducky. There is a video call for you.

SFX:

BUZZ, CLICK

LAURINE:

(FILTERED, SUGARY SOUTHERN ACCENT) Hiya, Ducky!

FRANK:

(DISBELIEF) Holy cats!

SERGEANT:

What in the name--? What's that?

FRANK:

Laurine!

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Ducky-darlin', how marvelous!

SERGEANT:

(IMPRESSED) Look at that blonde!

FRANK:

It's Laurine! (STAMMERS, NERVOUS) Where are you?

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Oh, silly, I'm in my hotel room. Say, how do you like my, uh, playsuit?

SFX:

LOGIC MAKES AN ODD NOISE

FRANK:

Well, I--

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) I just got into town. Oh, Ducky, wasn't it smart of the Logic to find you?

FRANK:

Logic? Find me?

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) I asked it how to find you, Ducky. You must have an unlisted number, darlin'. You're not in the directory.

FRANK:

Uh, yeah. [(TO HIMSELF) That would explain why the Logics were askin' people for their names. They were lookin' for me.] (TO LAURINE) Well, how've ya been, Laurine -- uh, since I saw ya last? I, uh, heard ya got married.

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) That's right. Ducky, you won't believe me, I know, but I've had four husbands. But I've never loved anybody as much as I love you.

FRANK:

You've divorced four husbands?

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Uh, three. The last one -- died -- unexpectedly.

FRANK:

(SUSPICIOUS) Who unexpected it?

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) He did. But the jury acquitted me, Ducky. They knew it was just a little ol' accident. So now I'm free again and we just got lots of things to talk over--

FRANK:

But, Laurine--

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) You come right over here, Ducky, instantly.

FRANK:

Well, I-I-I-I'm workin'. Er, uh, I'll call ya back.

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Oh, I'm so lonesome! Please make it quick, Ducky. Have you ever thought of me?

FRANK:

Oh, yeah, yeah, sure. Plenty.

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Aren't you sweet?! Here's a kiss! Mmm-MMHH! That'll just have to last till you get here, but -- hurry, please.

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, ENDING CALL

FRANK:

Oh, my back! What am I gonna do?

SERGEANT:

Do like you were tellin' me a while ago.

FRANK:

Huh?

SERGEANT:

Calm yourself ---- "Ducky."

MFX:

BRIDGE

MIKE:

Call on the Logic for you, Frank! Your wife.

FRANK:

Oh, thanks, Mike.

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, OPENING CALL

FRANK:

Hi, Gert!

GERT:

(FILTERED) Frank! I've been trying to get you for an hour! Where have you been?

FRANK:

Well, I been out makin' calls, honey. Tryin' to find out what ails these Logics.

GERT:

(FILTERED) Well, you better find out in a hurry or there's gonna be trouble! That-that-that-thing told me my address, how much I owe every store and how much you make a week. And all about the time we had that fight and I went home to mother!

FRANK:

Well, Gert, I don't think they're doin' that any more. I think that was just temporary.

GERT:

(FILTERED) Well, in the meantime, it's told everybody in the neighborhood all about me! (LOWERS HER VOICE, CONFIDENTIAL) Hm! I punched Mrs. Hudson's name. She's been married three times and she's had Mr. Hudson arrested twice for non-support and once for beating her up! (LOUD AGAIN) It'll tell anybody anything!

FRANK:

Yeah, but, I tell ya, Gert--

GERT:

(FILTERED) Frank, you stop these things or I'm gonna leave you!

FRANK:

Gert! You don't mean that!

GERT:

(FILTERED) I do! If you can't figure out how to keep our private lives out of every Logic in town, then I'm through! And that's settled!

MFX:

BRIDGE

SFX:

OFFICE DOOR OPENS ... FRANK'S FOOTSTEPS IN

FRANK:

Hey, boss! You gotta put more men on the job or something. We gotta lick these Logics. My wife's gonna leave me if we don't.

BOSS:

You're also gonna be lookin' for a job if we don't.

FRANK:

I don't care about the job. But, listen--

BOSS:

You listen. The Logics are giving out information on high explosives, the fine points of murder, and legal loopholes that'll beat any charge from hijacking to high treason!

FRANK:

Yeah, but my wife--

BOSS:

And about six guys have thought of asking how to switch bank credits so they can corner all the cash in the country. Now, quit botherin' me! Get over to the tank and help Mike try to block off some of those circuits!

MFX:

BRIDGE

SFX:

HAMMERS BANGING ON LOGICS

FRANK:

(GRUNTS) I can't even budge any of these relay plates.

MIKE:

Yeah. Me, neither.

SFX:

BANGING STOPS

FRANK:

Isn't there any way we can disconnect them?

MIKE:

There is not. They weren't built to be disconnected.

FRANK:

Mike, what are we gonna do?

MIKE:

I'm thinkin' o' slittin' my throat. When they were givin' out all the information on everybody, my wife got the lowdown on a certain blonde. I got nothing left to live for.

FRANK:

Blonde. Why did you have to remind me?

MIKE:

You got one?

FRANK:

My only hope is I ain't got her.

SFX:

LOGIC BUZZES WITH AN INCOMING CALL

MIKE:

Eh, see who that's for.

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, OPENING CALL

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Hi, Ducky-darlin'!

FRANK:

Ooh. Laurine. Not again!

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Ducky-darlin', I'm lonesome. Why haven't you come over?

FRANK:

Well, I-I-I-I been busy.

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Oh, pooh. Ducky, do you remember how much in love we used to be?

FRANK:

Yeah--

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) An' I was so mean to ya! (CHUCKLES) Ducky, let's get married tonight.

FRANK:

Oh, gosh, Laurine, I - I - I -

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Right away, Ducky?

FRANK:

(LEVELS WITH HER) Look. I got married.

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Ohhh, you poor darlin'! You poor darlin'! We'll just have to get you out of that.

FRANK:

No! No! Now, look, Laurine--

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Darlin', I'll just call up your wife and have a little talk with her.

FRANK:

Look, please. It's nice of you to think of me and all that, but I--

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) You just give me your address and your Logic number, darlin'.

FRANK:

(UNCONVINCING) I, uh, ain't got one.

LAURINE:

(FILTERED) Aw, you just don't want to tell me. (GIGGLES) You're bashful! Never mind, darlin'. The Logic will tell me.

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, ENDING CALL

FRANK:

Laurine?! Laurine?! Oh. I gotta call Gert.

SFX:

KEY PRESSED ... FRANTIC TYPING

MIKE:

(OFF) Frank, will you get away from that thing and give me a hand?

FRANK:

Yeah, Mike. In a minute. I - I gotta call my wife. I-- We gotta get out of town.

SFX:

MORE TYPING

FRANK:

Ah! I punched the wrong key.

BOSS:

(FADES IN) Frank! I told you to help Mike!

FRANK:

Yeah, boss, I am, I am, but I just gotta make this call.

BOSS:

Call?! What do I care about your call?! The President's getting ready to close down the company and declare martial law! Now, for the love of heaven, do something!

FRANK:

Yeah, boss, I will, I will! I just gotta make this call!

SFX:

LOGIC GOES SWOOSH!

LOGIC:

Attention! To assist in solving a special problem of Logics Service, kindly give the following information if possible -- Where does Frank Caldwell live?

FRANK:

(AS IF WOUNDED) Ohh. She got me. I'm through.

MFX:

BRIDGE

FRANK:

Look, Gert! There is no blonde.

GERT:

(FURIOUS) Frank Caldwell! I told you I was leaving you!

FRANK:

Leave me later, will ya? Right now, pack yourself up and the kids; we gotta get out o' here.

GERT:

What is all this?! Are the cops after you or something?

FRANK:

(PLAYS ALONG) Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, that's it; the cops. Come on, get movin', will ya? (ABRUPTLY) Hey, get away from that Logic!

GERT:

Yeah, but don't you think we ought to hear the police calls?

SFX:

KEY PRESSED

SERGEANT:

(FILTERED) ... Twenty-Seven and Car Thirty-One detailed to round up all employees of the Logics company. Use caution. They are suspected of sedition.

FRANK:

Holy smoke, the cops are after me!

GERT:

But you just said they were.

SERGEANT:

(FILTERED) Car Seventeen, Car Seventeen, proceed to vicinity of One-Nineteen East Seventh Street. Child terrorizing neighborhood. Use extreme caution. Child is armed with pea-shooter, using poison darts. That is all.

FRANK:

Freddie!

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, LOGIC TURNED OFF

GERT:

Who's Freddie?

FRANK:

Freddie's a mean little kid. He wanted a Logic that would tell him how to make dart poison. They're all alike, I kept tellin' him, they're all alike.

GERT:

What are you talking about?

FRANK:

Oh, I don't know. All I know is it was a nice world up till yesterday. Now, it's like a guy named Joe come along and squashed all our mud pies for us.

GERT:

Hmph! Looks to me more like it was a Logic named Joe.

FRANK:

A Logic named-- They're all alike. They're-- (GETS AN IDEA, SUDDENLY HAPPY, HUGS GERT) Gert. Gert! Baby!

GERT:

(GIGGLES) Frank, let go of me! Oh, don't be so silly!

FRANK:

Okay, honey! Hold the fort! Maybe they aren't all alike!

GERT:

Where're you going? Frank, you gonna make a getaway?

FRANK:

Baby, if you've got the right inspiration, I'm going straight to the middle of this whole jamboree!

MFX:

BRIDGE

SFX:

DOOR OPENS

KORLANOVITCH:

(HOPEFUL) Yes?! (DISAPPOINTED) Oh, I was hoping it was the police.

FRANK:

You remember me, Mr. Korlanovitch? Caldwell, of the Logics company?

KORLANOVITCH:

Logics company! I wish the Logics company was at the bottom of the ocean!

FRANK:

Well, I don't blame you. Now, where's your Logic?

KORLANOVITCH:

In here. I'd smash it into a million pieces if I wasn't afraid of what Freddie 'ud do to me.

FRANK:

Just get out of the way, will ya? I got business with --- "Joe".

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, LOGIC TURNED ON

LOGIC:

If you want to do something and don't know how -- Ask Your Logic.

FRANK:

Oh, we're back to that routine, huh? Well, I wanna do something all right.

SFX:

QUESTION KEY PRESSED

FRANK:

Tell me, "Joe" -- can a Logic be modified to achieve correlations for which human brains are too limited?

SFX:

LOGIC WORKING

LOGIC:

Yes.

FRANK:

How great will the modifications be?

SFX:

QUESTION KEY PRESSED ... LOGIC WORKING

LOGIC:

Microscopically slight. Changes in dimension not detectable even by precision gauges. They can come about only through an extremely improbable accident.

FRANK:

And what would this "Super-Logic" then be able to do?

LOGIC:

Umm--

SFX:

LOGIC RESISTS, STATIC

FRANK:

Come on, you. Spill it.

SFX:

LOGIC RESISTS, MORE STATIC

LOGIC:

(RELUCTANT) It could set up entire new combinations of electronic relays which would bypass the normal censor blocks thereby enabling it to perform valuable new services, including the giving of helpful advice on any human problem.

FRANK:

Aha! Has this "accident" ever happened, Joe?

SFX:

LOGIC RESISTS, GRINDING

FRANK:

Come on! Come on!

SFX:

LOGIC NOISE FADES OUT

LOGIC:

(RELUCTANT, A LITTLE SAD) It has happened - only once, in the case of the Logic now owned by the Korlanovitch family of One-Nineteen East Seventh Street. A Logic named Joe.

SFX:

SWITCH CLICKS, LOGIC TURNED OFF

FRANK:

Thanks, Joe. That's all I wanted to know.

KORLANOVITCH:

Hey, what's all this about?

FRANK:

I'm takin' this Logic away, Mr. Korlanovitch. I'll bring ya a new one. Our troubles are all over!

FREDDIE:

Hey, you! Get away from Joe!

FRANK:

Correction. Our troubles are just beginning.

KORLANOVITCH:

Now, Freddie, put down that blow gun.

FREDDIE:

Ahhhh, shut up! Hey, you! I said get away from that Logic!

SFX:

DISTANT POLICE SIREN ... COMING CLOSER DURING FOLLOWING

FRANK:

Now, look, Freddie, I'm gonna bring you a nice new one, see?

FREDDIE:

I want that one. (THREATENING) What I got in this pea-shooter ain't beans!

SFX:

POLICE CAR SCREECHES TO A STOP ... SIREN OUT ... CAR DOORS OPEN AND CLOSE

KORLANOVITCH:

Mr. Caldwell? Mr. Caldwell? The police. They're outside.

FRANK:

Yeah, for me and Freddie.

FREDDIE:

Nuts! What they want you for? You ain't smart enough to do nuttin'!

FRANK:

(SUDDENLY STARTS ACTING LIKE A MOVIE GANGSTER) Oh, no? Say, there's plenty I could tell you.

SFX:

POUNDING ON FRONT DOOR, CONTINUES IN BG

SERGEANT:

(OFF) Open up in there! Open up! Police! (CONTINUES IN BG) Open up! Open this door! Open this door! Do you hear me?! The police! Open this door! Open this door!

FRANK:

There's the cops, kid. It's you and me against them.

FREDDIE:

So what you gonna do about it if ya so smart?

FRANK:

Now, look, we may have to fight our way out, see? Now, let me see that blow gun. I know a way to hop it up so the cops won't have a chance. Come on, come on, give it to me.

FREDDIE:

Okay, let's see what you can do. Here.

FRANK:

Thanks. (DROPS THE ACT) Here!

SFX:

SLAPS KID ACROSS FACE

FREDDIE:

(REACTS, CRIES LIKE A BABY, CONTINUES IN BG)

KORLANOVITCH:

(GENUINELY IMPRESSED) Oh, Mr. Caldwell, you're a great man!

FRANK:

Now, all I gotta do is to pull this plug (WITH EFFORT) out o' the wall!

SFX:

PLUG PULLED ... FRONT DOOR SMASHED DOWN ... COPS ENTER

FRANK:

(PLEASED) Ah! Come right in, Sergeant!

FREDDIE:

(STILL HOWLING LIKE A BABY, FADES DURING FOLLOWING)

SERGEANT:

(OFF) Careful, men! Careful, careful. (CLOSER) That must be the kid. But he don't look so tough to me.

FRANK:

(MODEST) Well, he, er, got a little softening.

KORLANOVITCH:

(REASSURING) Oh, there'll be no more complaints, officer. (EMBOLDENED) I guess I can go on where Mr. Caldwell left off.

SERGEANT:

Caldwell? You're wanted. This time you either answer some questions or we keep you in the cooler till you do.

FRANK:

What, in jail? (AGREEABLE) Oh, okay. Let's go.

SERGEANT:

Hey, wait a minute. You act like you wanted to go to jail.

FRANK:

Yeah, I do. I got a feeling it'll be safer there.

SERGEANT:

What do you mean?

FRANK:

Just put me away till a certain party leaves town and I'll confess to anything!

SERGEANT:

Okay, then, Caldwell. Into the paddy wagon you go.

FRANK:

Thanks, officer. You may be savin' my life. Now, if you'll just help me carry this Logic out--

SERGEANT:

Wait a minute. You can't take that in the wagon.

FRANK:

I can't? Why not?

SERGEANT:

No room. We've already got a dame in there who's raisin' the roof.

FRANK:

A dame?!

SERGEANT:

Yeah. A blonde. She was tryin' to buy a gun without a permit. She keeps screamin' she's goin' to miss her date -- with "Ducky."

MFX:

TYMPANI ACCENT ... THEN TO A FINISH

HOST:

You have just heard another adventure into the unknown world of the future, the world of--

SFX:

OMINOUS RUMBLE ... CYMBAL CRASH

HOST:

(HEAVY ECHO) DIMENSION X-x-x-x-x- (TRAILS OFF)

MFX:

OMINOUS FUTURISTIC PERCUSSION ... THEN IN BG

HOST:

Next week, DIMENSION X joins the big parade of exciting half-hour presentations at a brand new time, on Friday evenings at a different hour. In the Eastern time zone, you'll hear it at nine o'clock Fridays, Daylight Saving Time. In other zones, please consult your local newspaper listings to learn the new time -- for that's when DIMENSION X will bring you one of the strangest stories ever told, Ray Bradbury's "Mars Is Heaven."

MFX:

WEIRD ACCENT ... THEN IN BG, OUT AT [X]

ANNOUNCER:

Tonight's story on DIMENSION X was titled "A Logic Named Joe," written by Murray Leinster and adapted for radio by Claris A. Ross. Featured in the cast were Joseph Julian as Frank and Roger De Koven as the Logic. Your narrator was Norman Rose. Music by Albert Buhrman. Engineer, Don Abbott. [X] DIMENSION X is produced by Van Woodward and directed by Edward King. Robert Warren speaking. Tomorrow, hear a thrilling story on "High Adventure." It's on NBC.

SFX:

NBC CHIMES