Page 2 of The Monster

me?"

  Fred shook his head. "Not exactly. I was waiting to see Dr. Gaddonthough. I was on my way out to the Proving Grounds and I happened tostop by and talk to Miss Drake." He turned to the physicist, a bulky manwith firm, hard features, who moved his large body with an almostcat-like grace.

  "I hope you don't mind, Dr. Gaddon. Possibly I can give you a lift backout to the Base. I'm covering the launching for my paper."

  Gaddon smiled at him. "But of course I don't mind. And I'll take you upon that offer. It'll save me a trip back to town to take one of thestaff cars."

  * * * * *

  The words had a friendly note to them, as did the smile on Gaddon'sface. And yet, somehow, Fred Trent found that he did not like this man.It was nothing he could put his finger on, nothing he could rationalize,unless it was the coldly calculating look in the scientist's eyes.

  "That's fine, doctor," Trent replied. "Shall we go?"

  He turned and said good-bye to Fenwick and passed a smiling glance atthe girl. He could see her blush slightly as Fenwick caught the glanceand laughed. Then they were out of the house and Trent led the way tohis car.

  Inside, he started the motor and drove away. Beside him, Gaddon lit acigar and blew a long plume of smoke through the open window.

  "You said you wanted to talk to me, Trent?"

  Fred nodded. "That's right, doctor. I'm writing up the rocket experimentfor my paper, and I thought maybe you could give me a few details ofinterest." He paused for a moment, then asked: "Would it be too personalto ask if your visit to Dr. Fenwick had anything to do with the comingexperiment?"

  Gaddon shot a quick glance at him.

  "Why do you ask that?"

  Fred Trent shrugged. "It was just a thought. I heard Dr. Fenwick talkingabout your heart, but you look pretty healthy to me, so I thought maybeit was because Fenwick is a gland specialist and you might be talking tohim about examining the cat after the rocket returns ..."

  Gaddon laughed roughly. "A mighty clever reasoning, Trent, but not quitecorrect. The fact is, I was seeing the doctor for personal reasons. Justa physical checkup. It had nothing to do with the rocket experiment orthe effect of the cosmic rays on the animal we're including in theexperiment."

  "It was just a thought, doctor," Trent replied, as he moved the coupeout on the open highway away from Tucson and toward the Rocket ProvingGrounds on the desert flats in the distance.

  "So now that we've disposed of that, what else would you like to know?"Gaddon asked him, a peculiar edge to his voice that Trent did not miss.

  "Well, I would like to get a first hand bit of information on justexactly what you plan to prove with this experiment. If I'm correct, Dr.Mathieson, the head of the project, contends that cosmic rays may belethal, and this experiment is to prove his point."

  The physicist snorted. "It is no secret that Mathieson and myselfdisagree violently on that subject."

  Trent's eyebrows raised. "Is that so? I wasn't aware of it?"

  Gaddon paused, seeing that his words had slipped out too freely. Finallyhe said, "What I meant to say, Trent, is that up until now it has notbeen a public issue of disagreement. And I would prefer to have itremain a private matter until after the experiment."

  "I see," Trent mused. "You have my word that I won't print anything yousay without your permission. But just what is the difference of opinionbetween you and Mathieson?"

  Gaddon took a long pull at his cigar and waited a few moments beforereplying. It was apparent to Trent that he was debating continuing thesubject with a newspaperman. But Trent had gauged the man correctly.There was a flair of vanity in Gaddon that dated back to his Englishancestry. Trent remembered that Gaddon, quite a figure in Englishscientific circles, had created a stir when he had come over to theUnited States to assist in rocket research at the Arizona provinggrounds. It seemed that Gaddon had not wanted to take a back seat to thefamed American scientist, Mathieson. It had made a few gossip columns inthe newspapers before Washington put an official clamp on the matter.

  * * * * *

  Now, as Trent waited for the Englishman to reply, he could almost sensethe thoughts that were going through Gaddon's mind. The Englishman wasdebating whether to take an open stand against the viewpoints of hisAmerican colleague. But Trent felt that the British stubbornness in theman would make him reveal his own theories. Especially since Trent hadalready promised not to print anything without Gaddon's permission. Thatwould give him an opportunity to gloat safely, should his own ideas beproven correct.

  "Very well, Trent, I'll take you at your professional word to keep thismatter confidential. But if what I contend is correct, you'll have a bigstory to tell."

  Trent waited expectantly, not wanting to break the Englishman's train ofthought.

  "The fact is, Trent, that Mathieson is all wrong. To go even further,most of your American scientists don't have the haziest idea of exactlywhat the cosmic rays are. We in Britain have made quite exhaustivestudies of the phenomena."

  Trent didn't bother to argue with him. He only nodded his head. It wouldhave been silly, he knew, to contradict Gaddon, to tell him that theEnglish didn't know a thing more about the cosmic rays than the Americanscientists, that American science had made, and was continually making,exhaustive research into that scientific field of study on as great ifnot more so a scale than Britain could possibly achieve. It was onlyGaddon's vanity talking, Trent knew, so he let him put in the barb ofridicule, waiting.

  "I was sent over here, as you may know, to aid in the currentexperiment. To formulate it as a matter of fact. This test is beingconducted to determine just what effect cosmic rays will have on aliving organism. As I said, Mathieson, and your other scientists are ofthe opinion that the rays are lethal. That they will destroy life. Ineffect, that they are death rays.

  "But I contend that they are wrong. What would you say if I told youthat cosmic rays are the very source of life and energy in theuniverse?"

  Trent whistled judiciously, and noted that Gaddon's face smiled at theapparent surprise Trent evinced.

  "You find that a startling statement?"

  Trent nodded. "I'd say that it sounded like the beginning of a veryinteresting theory."

  "And you would be right," Gaddon replied, warming to his subject. "It ismy contention that the cosmic rays will prove to be the fountain ofyouth that men have sought through the ages. That they will react on theglands of a living creature and produce immortality.

  "Now take your choice. Whose theory would you rather believe?Mathieson's idiotic claims of a death ray, or mine as a source of theutmost benefit to science?"

  Trent took a moment before replying. When he did so, he spoke with tact,and also with the feeling that his trip to Fenwick's office had provenvery valuable. For there was a story here. A big story.

  "I'd say, doctor, that I'd like to believe your theory was correct. Butisn't it a little premature to be so definite about it?"

  Gaddon snorted. "No more premature than Mathieson's. And I'll tell yousomething else, Trent. You may not realize it, but you're about to takepart in what may be the biggest story of the century. And when itbreaks, you'll remember our conversation here. I intend to prove thatyour American scientists are wrong."

  Trent noticed the personal emphasis that Gaddon put in his laststatement, but he was drawn away from the conversation as he turned thecoupe into the guarded entrance to the proving grounds.

  There was a moment of credential flashing to the guards, and arespectful salute to the scientist in the car beside Trent. Then Trentmoved his coupe through the entrance and up the cement roadway to theAdministration building.

  As Gaddon got out of the car he turned to Trent.

  "I'll leave you here. The members of the Press will be conducted to thelaunching site at dusk. I'll see you then. In the meantime, don't forgetthat you've given your word not to release any of the information I'vegiven you."

  Trent nodded and watched him walk away. He fo
llowed the Englishman withhis eyes, a frown crossing his face. There was something too cocksureabout the man. His ridicule of American scientists could be ignored, butthe way he spoke about his theory, as if it had already been a provenfact against the ideas of Mathieson....

  A faint chill ran up Fred Trent's back. He couldn't explain it. But itwas there. An ominous note of foreboding.

  He shrugged it off and left his car to walk toward the Administrationbuilding.

  * * * * *

  The remaining hours of the afternoon dragged by in a monotony of idlespeculation. Trent listened to the gathered newspapermen discussing thecoming experiment at dusk, accompanied
S. M. Tenneshaw's Novels