For a long period there was only an occasional grunt, the clatter of turned pages, a nod of approval. At last he put it down.
"It's the stuff," he said. "You've done it, boys. It's great; I'm proud of you."
Erickson glowed a bright pink and swallowed. Harper's small, tense figure gave the ghost of a wriggle, reminiscent of a wire-haired terrier receiving approval. "That's fine, chief. We'd rather hear you say that than get the Nobel Prize."
"I think you'll probably get it. However" — the proud light in his eyes died down—"I'm not going to take any action in this matter."
"Why not, chief?" Harper's tone was bewildered.
"I'm being retired. My successor will take over in the near future; this is too big a matter to start just before a change in administration."
"You being retired! What the hell! Why?"
"About the same reason I took you off the bomb — at least, the Directors think so."
"But that's nonsense! You were right to take me off the bomb; I was getting jumpy. But you're another matter — we all depend on you."
"Thanks, Cal — but that's how it is; there's nothing to be done about it." He turned to Lentz. "I think this is the last ironical touch needed to make the whole thing pure farce," he observed bitterly. "This thing is big, bigger than we can guess at this stage — and I have to give it a miss."
"Well," Harper burst out, "I can think of something to do about it!" He strode over to King's desk and snatched up the manuscript. "Either you superintend the exploitation or the company will damn well get along without our discovery!" Erickson concurred belligerently.
"Wait a minute." Lentz had the floor. "Dr. Harper, have you already achieved a practical rocket fuel?"
"I said so. We've got it on hand now."
"An escape-speed fuel?" They understood his verbal shorthand — a fuel that would lift a rocket free of the Earth's gravitational pull.
"Sure. Why, you could take any of the Clipper rockets, refit them a trifle, and have breakfast on the Moon."
"Very well. Bear with me—" He obtained a sheet of paper from King and commenced to write. They watched in mystified impatience. He continued briskly for some minutes, hesitating only momentarily. Presently he stopped and spun the paper over to King. "Solve it!" he demanded.
King studied the paper. Lentz had assigned symbols to a great number of factors, some social, some psychological, some physical, some economical. He had thrown them together into a structural relationship, using the symbols of calculus of statement. King understood the paramathematical operations indicated by the symbols, but he was not as used to them as he was to the symbols and operations of mathematical physics. He plowed through the equations, moving his lips slightly in unconscious subvocalization.
He accepted a pencil from Lentz and completed the solution. It required several more lines, a few more equations, before the elements canceled out, or rearranged themselves, into a definite answer.
He stared at this answer while puzzlement gave way to dawning comprehension and delight.
He looked up. "Erickson! Harper!" he rapped out. "We will take your new fuel, refit a large rocket, install the bomb in it, and throw it into an orbit around the Earth, far out in space. There we will use it to make more fuel, safe fuel, for use on Earth, with the danger from the bomb itself limited to the operators actually on watch!"
There was no applause. It was not that sort of an idea; their minds were still struggling with the complex implications.
"But, chief," Harper finally managed, "how about your retirement? We're still not going to stand for it."
"Don't worry," King assured him. "It's all in there, implicit in those equations, you two, me, Lentz, the Board of Directors — and just what we all have to do to accomplish it."
"All except the matter of time," Lentz cautioned.
"Eh?"
"You'll note that elapsed time appears in your answer as an undetermined unknown."
"Yes… yes, of course. That's the chance we have to take. Let's get busy!"
Chairman Dixon called the Board of Directors to order. "This being a special meeting, we'll dispense with minutes and reports," he announced. "As set forth in the call we have agreed to give the retiring superintendent three hours of our time."
"Mr. Chairman—"
"Yes, Mr. Thornton?"
"I thought we had settled that matter."
"We have, Mr. Thornton, but in view of Superintendent King's long and distinguished service, if he asks a hearing, we are honor bound to grant it. You have the floor, Dr. King."
King got up and stated briefly, "Dr. Lentz will speak for me." He sat down.
Lentz had to wait till coughing, throat clearing and scraping of chairs subsided. It was evident that the board resented the outsider.
Lentz ran quickly over the main points in the argument which contended that the bomb presented an intolerable danger anywhere on the face of the Earth. He moved on at once to the alternative proposal that the bomb should be located in a rocketship, an artificial moonlet flying in a free orbit around the Earth at a convenient distance — say, fifteen thousand miles — while secondary power stations on earth burned a safe fuel manufactured by the bomb.
He announced the discovery of the Harper-Erickson technique and dwelt on what it meant to them commercially. Each point was presented as persuasively as possible, with the full power of his engaging personality. Then he paused and waited for them to blow off steam.
They did. "Visionary—" "Unproved—" "No essential change in the situation—" The substance of it was that they were very happy to hear of the new fuel, but not particularly impressed by it. Perhaps in another twenty years, after it had been thoroughly tested and proved commercially, and provided enough uranium had been mined to build another bomb, they might consider setting up another power station outside the atmosphere. In the meantime there was no hurry.
Lentz patiently and politely dealt with their objections. He emphasized the increasing incidence of occupational psychoneurosis among the engineers and grave danger to everyone near the bomb even under the orthodox theory. He reminded them of their insurance and indemnity-bond costs, and of the "squeeze" they paid State politicians.
Then he changed his tone and let them have it directly and brutally. "Gentlemen," he said, "we believe that we are fighting for our lives — our own lives, our families and every life on the globe. If you refuse this compromise, we will fight as fiercely and with as little regard for fair play as any cornered animal." With that he made his first move in attack.
It was quite simple. He offered for their inspection the outline of a propaganda campaign on a national scale, such as any major advertising firm should carry out as matter of routine. It was complete to the last detail, television broadcasts, spot plugs, newspaper and magazine coverage and — most important — a supporting whispering campaign and a letters-to-Congress organization. Every businessman there knew from experience how such things worked.
But its object was to stir up fear of the bomb and to direct that fear, not into panic, but into rage against the Board of Directors personally, and into a demand that the government take action to have the bomb removed to outer space.
"This is blackmail! We'll stop you!"
"I think not," Lentz replied gently. "You may be able to keep us out of some of the newspapers, but you can't stop the rest of it. You can't even keep us off the air — ask the Federal Communications Commission." It was true. Harrington had handled the political end and had performed his assignment well; the President was convinced.
Tempers were snapping on all sides; Dixon had to pound for order. "Dr. Lentz," he said, his own temper under taut control, "you plan to make every one of us appear a blackhearted scoundrel with no other thought than personal profit, even at the expense of the lives of others. You know that is not true; this is a simple difference of opinion as to what is wise."