of mathematical symbols. "Do you see that? Do you see what that implies?"
He peered anxiously at their faces.
King studied it, his lips moving. "Yes . . . I believe I do see. Odd . . .
I never looked at it just that way before ? yet I've studied those
equations until I've dreamed about them." He turned to Lentz. "Do you
agree, Doctor?"
Lentz nodded slowly. "I believe so . . . Yes, I think I may say so."
Harrington should have been pleased; he wasn't. "I had hoped you could tell
me I was wrong," he said, almost petulantly, "but I'm afraid there is no
further doubt about it. Dr. Destry included an assumption valid in molar
physics, but for which we have absolutely no assurance in atomic physics. I
suppose you realize what this means to you, Dr. King?"
King's voice was dry whisper. "Yes," he said, "yes ? It means that if that
bomb out there ever blows up, we must assume that it will go up all at
once, rather than the way Destry predicted ? and God help the human race!"
Captain Harrington cleared his throat to break the silence that followed.
"Superintendent," he said, "I would not have ventured to call had it been
simply a matter of disagreement as to interpretation of theoretical
predictions ? "
"You have something more to go on?"
"Yes and no. Probably you gentlemen think of the Naval Observatory as being
exclusively preoccupied with ephemerides and tide tables. In a way you
would be right ? but we still have some time to devote to research as long
as it doesn't cut into the appropriation. My special interest has always
been lunar theory.
"I don't mean lunar ballistics," he continued. "I mean the much more
interesting problem of its origin and history, the problem the younger
Darwin struggled with, as well as my illustrious predecessor, Captain
T.J.J. See. I think that it is obvious that any theory of lunar origin and
history must take into account the surface features of the Moon ?
especially the mountains, the craters, that mark its face so prominently."
He paused momentarily, and Superintendent King put in: "Just a minute,
Captain ? I may be stupid, or perhaps I missed something, but ? is there a
connection between what we were discussing before and lunar theory?"
"Bear with me for a few moments, Dr. King," Harrington apologized. "There
is a connection ? at least, I'm afraid there is a connection ? but I would
rather present my points in their proper order before making my
conclusions." They granted him an alert silence; he went on:
"Although we are in the habit of referring to the craters of the Moon, we
know they are not volcanic craters. Superficially, they follow none of the
rules of terrestrial volcanoes in appearance or distribution, but when
Rutter came out in 1952 with his monograph on the dynamics of vulcanology,
he proved rather conclusively that the lunar craters could not be caused by
anything that we know as volcanic action.
"That left the bombardment theory as the simplest hypothesis. It looks
good, on the face of it, and a few minutes spent throwing pebbles into a
patch of mud will convince anyone that the lunar craters could have been
formed by falling meteors.
"But there are difficulties. If the Moon was struck so repeatedly, why not
the Earth? It hardly seems necessary to mention that the Earth's atmosphere
would be no protection against masses big enough to form craters like
Endymion or Plato. And if they fell after the Moon was a dead world while
the Earth was still young enough to change its face and erase the marks of
bombardment, why did the meteors avoid so nearly completely the great dry
basins we call lunar seas?
"I want to cut this short; you'll find the data and the mathematical
investigations from the data here in my notes. There is one other major
objection to the meteor-bombardment theory: the great rays that spread from
Tycho across almost the entire surface of the Moon. It makes the Moon look
like a crystal ball that had been struck with a hammer, and impact from
outside seems evident, but there are difficulties. The striking mass, our
hypothetical meteor, must be small enough to have formed the crater of
Tycho, but it must have the mass and speed to crack an entire planet.
"Work it out for yourself ? you must either postulate a chunk out of the
core of a dwarf star, or speeds such as we have never observed within the
system. It's conceivable but a farfetched explanation."
He turned to King. "Doctor, does anything occur to you that might account
for a phenomenon like Tycho?"
The Superintendent grasped the arms of his chair, then glanced at his
palms. He fumbled for a handkerchief, and wiped them. "Go ahead," he said,
almost inaudibly.
"Very well then." Harrington drew out of his briefcase a large photograph
of the Moon ? a beautiful full-Moon portrait made at Lick. "I want you to
imagine the Moon as she might have been sometime in the past. The dark
areas we call the 'seas' are actual oceans. It has an atmosphere, perhaps a
heavier gas than oxygen and nitrogen, but an active gas, capable of
supporting some conceivable form of life.
"For this is an inhabited planet, inhabited by intelligent beings, beings
capable of discovering atomic power and exploiting it!"
He pointed out on the photograph, near the southern limb, the lime-white
circle of Tycho, with its shining, incredible, thousand-mile-long rays
spreading, thrusting, jutting out from it. "Here . . . here at Tycho was
located their main power plant." He moved his fingers to a point near the
equator and somewhat east of meridian ? the point where three great dark
areas merged, Mare Nubium, Mare Imbrium, Oceanus Procellarun ? and picked
out two bright splotches surrounded, also, by rays, but shorter, less
distinct, and wavy. "And here at Copernicus and at Kepler, on islands at
the middle of a great ocean, were secondary power stations."
He paused, and interpolated soberly: "Perhaps they knew the danger they
ran, but wanted power so badly that they were willing to gamble the life of
their race. Perhaps they were ignorant of the ruinous possibilities of
their little machines, or perhaps their mathematicians assured them that it
could not happen.
"But we will never know ? no one can ever know. For it blew up and killed
them ? and it killed their planet.
"It whisked off the gassy envelope and blew it into outer space. It blasted
great chunks off the planet's crust. Perhaps some of that escaped
completely, too, but all that did not reach the speed of escape fell back
down in time and splashed great ring-shaped craters in the land.
"The oceans cushioned the shock; only the more massive fragments formed
craters through the water. Perhaps some life still remained in those ocean
depths. If so, it was doomed to die ? for the water, unprotected by
atmospheric pressure, could not remain liquid and must inevitably escape in
time to outer space. Its life-blood drained away. The planet was dead ?
dead by suicide!"
He met the grave eyes of his two silent listeners with an expression almost
&
nbsp; of appeal. "Gentlemen . . . this is only a theory, I realize . . . only a
theory, a dream, a nightmare . . . but it has kept me awake so many nights
that I had to come tell you about it, and see if you saw it the same way I
do. As for the mechanics of it, it's all in there in my notes. You can
check it ? and I pray that you find some error! But it is the only lunar
theory I have examined which included all of the known data and accounted
for all of them."
He appeared to have finished. Lentz spoke up. "Suppose, Captain, suppose we
check your mathematics and find no flaw ? what then?"
Harrington flung out his hands. "That's what I came here to find out!"
Although Lentz had asked the question, Harrington directed the appeal to
King. The Superintendent looked up; his eyes met the astronomer's, wavered
and dropped again. "There's nothing to be done," he said dully, "nothing at
all."
Harrington stared at him in open amazement. "But good God, man!" he burst
out. "Don't you see it? That bomb has got to be disassembled ? at once!"
"Take it easy, Captain." Lentz's calm voice was a spray of cold water. "And
don't be too harsh on poor King ? this worries him even more than it does
you. What he means is this: we're not faced with a problem in physics, but
with a political and economic situation. Let's put it this way: King can no
more dump the bomb than a peasant with a vineyard on the slopes of Mount
Vesuvius can abandon his holdings and pauperize his family simply because
there will be an eruption some day.
"King doesn't own that bomb out there; he's only the custodian. If he dumps
it against the wishes of the legal owners, they'll simply oust him and put
in someone more amenable. No, we have to convince the owners."
"The President could do it," suggested Harrington. "I could get to the
President ? "
"No doubt you could, through the Navy Department. And you might even
convince him. But could he help much?"
"Why, of course he could. He's the President!"
"Wait a minute. You're Director of the Naval Observatory; suppose you took
a sledge hammer and tried to smash the big telescope ? how far would you
get?"
"Not very far," Harrington conceded. "We guard the big fellow pretty
closely."
"Nor can the President act in an arbitrary manner," Lentz persisted. "He's
not an unlimited monarch. If he shuts down this plant without due process
of law, the Federal courts will tie him in knots. I admit that Congress
isn't helpless, but ? would you like to try to give a congressional
committee a course in the mechanics of infinitesimals?"
Harrington readily stipulated the point. "But there is another way," he
pointed out. "Congress is responsive to public opinion. What we need to do
is to convince the public that the bomb is a menace to everybody. That
could be done without ever trying to explain things in terms of higher
mathematics."
"Certainly it could," Lentz agreed. "You could go on the air with it and
scare everybody half to death. You could create the damnedest panic this
slightly slug-nutty country has ever seen. No, thank you. I, for one, would
rather have us all take the chance of being quietly killed than bring on a
mass psychosis that would destroy the culture we are building up. I think
one taste of the Crazy Years is enough."
"Well, then, what do you suggest?"
Lentz considered shortly, then answered: "All I see is a forlorn hope.
We've got to work on the Board of Directors and try to beat some sense into
their heads."
King, who had been following the discussion with attention in spite of his
tired despondency, interjected a remark: "How would you go about that?"
"I don't know," Lentz admitted. "It will take some thinking. But it seems
the most fruitful line of approach. If it doesn't work, we can always fall
back on Harrington's notion of publicity ? I don't insist that the world
commit suicide to satisfy my criteria of evaluation."
Harrington glanced at his wristwatch ? a bulky affair ? and whistled. "Good
heavens!" he exclaimed. "I forgot the time! I'm supposed officially to be
at the Flagstaff Observatory."
King had automatically noted the time shown by the Captain's watch as it
was displayed. "But it can't be that late." he had objected. Harrington
looked puzzled, then laughed.
"It isn't ? not by two hours. We are in zone plus-seven; this shows zone
plus-five ? it's radio-synchronized with the master clock at Washington."
"Did you say radio-synchronized?"
"Yes. Clever, isn't it?" He held it out for inspection. "I call it a
telechronometer; it's the only one of its sort to date. My nephew designed
it for me. He's a bright one, that boy. He'll go far. That is ? " his face
clouded, as if the little interlude had only served to emphasize the
tragedy that hung over them ? "if any of us live that long!"
A signal light glowed at King's desk, and Steinke's face showed on the
communicator screen. King answered him, then said, "Your car is ready, Dr.
Lentz."
"Let Captain Harrington have it."
"Then you're not going back to Chicago?"
"No. The situation has changed. If you want me, I'm stringing along."
The following Friday, Steinke ushered Lentz into Kings office. King looked
almost happy as he shook hands. "When did you ground, Doctor? I didn't
expect you back for another hour or so."
"Just now. I hired a cab instead of waiting for the shuttle."
"Any luck?"
"None. The same answer they gave you: "The Company is assured by
independent experts that Destry's mechanics is valid, and sees no reason to
encourage an hysterical attitude among its employees.' "
King tapped on his desk top, his eyes unfocused. Then, hitching himself
around to face Lentz directly, he said, "Do you suppose the Chairman is
right?"
"How?"
"Could the three of us ? you, me and Harrington ? have gone off the deep
end ? slipped mentally?"
"No."
"You're sure?"
"Certain. I looked up some independent experts of my own, not retained by
the Company, and had them check Harrington's work. It checks." Lentz
purposely neglected to mention that he had done so partly because he was
none too sure of King's present mental stability.
King sat up briskly, reached out and stabbed a push button. "I am going to
make one more try," he explained, "to see if I can't throw a scare into
Dixon's thick head. Steinke," he said to the communicator, "get me Mr.
Dixon on the screen."
"Yes, sir."
In about two minutes the visiphone screen came to life and showed the
features of Chairman Dixon. He was transmitting, not from his office, but
from the board room of the Company in Jersey City. "Yes?" he said. "What is
it, Superintendent?" His manner was somehow both querulous and affable.
"Mr. Dixon," King began, "I've called to try to impress on you the
seriousness of the Company's action. I stake my scientific reputation that
Harrington has proved completely that ? "
"Oh, that? Mr. King, I t
hought you understood that that was a closed
matter."
"But, Mr. Dixon ? "
"Superintendent, please! If there were any possible legitimate cause to
fear, do you think I would hesitate? I have children, you know, and
grandchildren."
"That is just why ? "
"We try to conduct the affairs of the company with reasonable wisdom and in
the public interest. But we have other responsibilities, too. There are
hundreds of thousands of little stockholders who expect us to show a
reasonable return on their investment. You must not expect us to jettison a
billion-dollar corporation just because you've taken up astrology! Moon
theory!" He sniffed.
"Very well, Mr. Chairman." King's tone was stiff.
"Don't take it that way, Mr. King. I'm glad you called ? the Board has just
adjourned a special meeting. They have decided to accept you for retirement
? with full pay, of course."
"I did not apply for retirement!"
"I know, Mr. King, but the Board feels that ? "
"I understand. Good-by!"
"Mr. King ? "
"Good-by!" He switched him off, and turned to Lentz. " ' ? with full pay,'
" he quoted, "which I can enjoy in any way that I like for the rest of my
life ? just as happy as a man in the death house!"
"Exactly," Lentz agreed. "Well, we've tried our way. I suppose we should
call up Harrington now and let him try the political and publicity method."
"I suppose so," King seconded absentmindedly. "Will you be leaving for
Chicago now?"
"No," said Lentz. "No.... I think I will catch the shuttle for Los Angeles
and take the evening rocket for the antipodes."
King looked surprised, but said nothing. Lentz answered the unspoken
comment. "Perhaps some of us on the other side of the Earth will survive.
I've done all that I can here. I would rather be a live sheepherder in
Australia than a dead psychiatrist in Chicago."
King nodded vigorously. "That shows horse sense. For two cents, I'd dump
the bomb now and go with you."
"Not horse sense, my friend ? a horse will run back into a burning barn,
which is exactly not what I plan to do. Why don't you do it and come along?
If you did, it would help Harrington to scare 'em to death."
'I believe I will!"
Steinke's face appeared again on the screen. "Harper and Erickson are here,
chief."
"I'm busy."
"They are pretty urgent about seeing you."
"Oh . . . all right," King said in a tired voice, "show them in. It doesn't
matter."
They breezed in, Harper in the van. He commenced talking at once, oblivious
to the Superintendent's morose preoccupation. 'We've got it, chief, we've
got it ? and it all checks out to the umpteenth decimal!"
"You've got what? Speak English."
Harper grinned. He was enjoying his moment of triumph, and was stretching
it out to savor it. "Chief, do you remember a few weeks back when I asked
for an additional allotment ? a special one without specifying how I was
going to spend it?"
"Yes. Come on ? get to the point."
"You kicked at first, but finally granted it. Remember? Well, we've got
something to show for it, all tied up in pink ribbon. It's the greatest
advance in radioactivity since Hahn split the nucleus. Atomic fuel, chief,
atomic fuel, safe, concentrated, and controllable. Suitable for rockets,
for power plants, for any damn thing you care to use it for."
King showed alert interest for the first time. "You mean a power source
that doesn't require the bomb?"
"The bomb? Oh, no, I didn't say that. You use the bomb to make the fuel,