The man identified as Dr. Newcombe appeared crestfallen. Dodge however seized on the opportunity. “I brought it here. It was used by a group of criminals to carry out a daring daylight abduction.”
“Mr. Dalton,” admonished Vaughn, sternly. “You are not at liberty to —”
“Stuff it, General. This insistence on keeping secrets is only slowing down our response. I take it this is your science adviser? He should have been here for my debriefing. Now I’m going to have to tell the story all over.”
Vaughn’s expression showed his displeasure at the rebuke, but he conceded with a brisk nod. “I would appreciate your discretion Mr. Dalton, and yours doctor, regarding anything you hear in this room.”
The scientist looked mystified by the atmosphere of concealment and tension in the room, but nodded. Dodge quickly related his story again, omitting any direct reference to the identity of the hostage, and focused primarily on his observations concerning the flying exoskeletons and especially the strange shrinking airship. Dr. Newcombe gasped when he described its transformation from enormous flying machine to something the size of a coin.
“Outrageous. Sir, I tell you that is flatly impossible. A conjuror’s trick.”
Dodge spread his hands patiently. “I only know what I saw.”
Newcombe continued shaking his head. “Impossible, I say. The Laws of Physics cannot be contravened. The shape of a thing may change, but you can’t change its mass. The only way it would work…” His voice trailed off and his gaze followed, but Dodge saw an elated gleam in his eyes as his mental machine began processing a solution. Despite the urgency of the predicament, Dodge felt the corners of his mouth curling into a grin as he watched the erratic fellow’s antics.
Hurricane was less patient. “Care to share, Newton?”
The scientist either did not hear, or chose to ignore the intentional mispronunciation. “I can’t begin to guess how this fellow accomplished it, but it would be possible to alter the shape of metal in such a way, without violating the Law of Conservation of Matter. If the airship you described was in reality made of a very thin layer of the metal, it could then conceivably be compressed down into a very small lump. The mass wouldn’t change, only the shape.”
Hurley was dubious. “That big thing squashed down no bigger ‘n four bits?”
“An ounce of gold can be beaten into a layer of foil 300 square feet. Of course, it’s incredibly thin, but augmented by the force field it could be made strong enough to sustain the weight of passengers.”
“What about the force field?” inquired Vaughn.
“Ah, I’m glad you asked. From my initial experiments, I would say that the device enhances the natural electrical field that is universally present in all things.”
“Come again?”
Newcombe put his hands together, palms opposed. “Do you know why I can’t pass my hands through each other?”
“Because they’re solid.”
“Actually, matter is mostly empty space. You see, everything is made of atoms, which in turn are made of infinitesimally small particles called protons, neutrons and electrons.”
Hurley rolled his eyes as the scientist began his lecture, but Dodge hung on every word. He had a basic grasp of chemistry, but didn’t mind the refresher course.
“Now the electrons orbit the nucleus — the protons and neutrons — the same way that the planets orbit the sun. In between however, there is empty space. Even in the densest metal, the relative distance between nuclei is immense, yet we cannot pass one solid object through another, because the electrons form a sort of shield. Although you can’t see it, the electrons of my hands are pushing each other apart.
“The force field works the same way. As an object enters the field, its electrons are actively repelled by the electrons in this device.”
“So how can it stop a bullet?” asked Vaughn.
“The device seems to be able to add the energy of any approaching object to the equation. The harder or faster something is moving, the greater the resistance.”
“So that’s why I was able to slip through,” Dodge said.
“Exactly. I expect you felt a little resistance, but a slow moving object would have an easier time penetrating the field.”
“Why doesn’t it work with water?”
“I wasn’t aware until you told me that it didn’t. I can only surmise that water, being a very reactive substance, draws too much electricity from the system. I’ll need to experiment with it some more, but I believe the device may draw electricity from the atmosphere using principles explored by a man named Nikola Tesla.”
Dodge recognized the name. “He was an inventor, wasn’t he?”
“Indeed. He’s fallen on hard times lately, but most of the technological advances we’ve made in the last forty years are owed to his discoveries.”
“Could he be working with a foreign power?” Vaughn asked.
Newcombe was incensed. “Good God, the man is almost eighty years old.”
“There’s no retirement age for crime. Mr. Tesla is known to have grudges with several key figures in American industry. What better way to avenge himself?”
“Unthinkable,” maintained the scientist. “Besides, I merely stated that this device used principles that Tesla experimented with. There’s no way that he invented this.”
“How can you be certain?”
Newcombe was nonplussed. “Because, General, this device is generations ahead of even Tesla’s genius.”
“Generations? Well then, who made it?”
“I was hoping you would be able to tell me. You really have no idea?”
“Perhaps we should allow Dr. Newcombe to view this film as well,” Dodge suggested. “I’m sure he understands the importance of keeping the matter secret.”
Vaughn wore a mask of reluctance, but after a deep breath surprised everyone by agreeing to the request. “Perhaps you’ll recognize this villain as a fellow scientist.”
Newcombe was about to protest the characterization, but Dodge forestalled him by taking the fellow’s elbow and steering him toward the door. “Don’t press your luck,” he advised. “I didn’t think he’d actually go for it, so count your blessings.”
The group moved en masse to the theater where the film reel was rewound. Dodge unconsciously held his breath as the hooded figure took the screen and felt a chill as he made his opening pronouncement with the finality of a guillotine. “People of America…”
He listened with rapt attention as the villain made his boasts, but was still unprepared for the ultimatum. He groaned aloud as the lights came up. “This is my fault.”
“Your fault?” queried Vaughn.
Hurricane echoed the sentiment. “How do you figure?”
“Isn’t it obvious? ‘America’s greatest champion, Captain Falcon?’ Where do you suppose he got that idea?”
Vaughn and Hurley exchanged a glance, but Dodge missed the subtle communication.
“And now this madman expects to meet Falcon in combat? He might as well have asked for Santa Claus and an army of pixies to come riding in on unicorns.”
“You’re right of course,” intoned the general. “A madman with a madman’s demand. In his delusions, he believes your Falcon stories to be factual. Obviously, we’ll have to find a better solution.”
“Sir?”
This time Dodge caught the nuances underlying Hurricane’s monosyllabic inquiry. He looked between the two faces, and immediately saw that, once more, he wasn’t being told the whole truth. He focused his scrutiny on Hurley, knowing that his friend was already yearning to make the revelation, but it was Vaughn that spoke.
“Captain Zane Falcon is indeed a great American hero. He didn’t do all the crazy things you attribute to him, but he did some of them.”