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,