Joan fussed over the young pair, fetching tea and freshly baked cake as the professor led them to his study. This was a room perfectly appropriate for a world-famous academic. There was an intense odour of tobacco in the study, ancient and ripe, a smell that came from smoke ingrained in the fibre of the place, and the room itself seemed anchored by the sheer weight of books filling floor-to-ceiling shelves. A cluttered desk stood in the bay of a large window offering a view onto trees and a grey cloudy sky. Books had spilled over into precarious piles close to the shelves. A Brahms piano sonata played softly.
Campion found two battered chairs, offered them to Kate and Lou and paced around his desk. Moving some papers, he tugged out an ancient-looking cassette player, switched off the Brahms and pulled up his chair.
‘So, my dear, although it is always a delight to see you, to what do we owe the pleasure?’
‘Lou and I have been commissioned to work on a project for the navy at Norfolk Base,’ Kate began.
‘The last I heard you were off to some exotic place. Where was it… Fiji?’
‘Bermuda.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Campion was suddenly distracted, moving books and papers in search of something. He had his pipe clenched between his teeth. A moment later he extricated a box of matches, struck one and brought it to the bowl of his pipe.‘So, young man,’ he said, turning to Lou. ‘You are a marine archaeologist too?’
‘Yes, sir,’ he replied.‘Kate and I were working together on the wreck of a pilgrim ship.’
‘Fascinating, fascinating. But how on earth did that lead you into the clutches of the US Navy?’ Campion sucked on his pipe.
‘It was Marine Phenomenon REZ375. The Titanic site.’
‘The what?’
‘You may not have heard,’ Kate said, ‘there’s a serious radiation leak from the wreck of the Titanic.’
‘Radiation leak?’
At that moment, Joan Campion appeared in the doorway with a tray. She came in and searched for a place to put it. ‘George, you really must try to sort this room out,’ she declared. Lou got up to help clear a space and found a small table, carefully transferring a pile of papers to the floor. He took the tray.
‘Thank you, young man.’
‘Shall I pour?’ Lou asked.
‘No, no, thank you… you sit down.’ Joan served the tea and cake, taking a slice and a cup round the desk to her husband before leaving them to it.
Kate and Lou took turns to explain what had happened and went on to describe the descent to the Titanic. Campion grew animated at this, interrupting them to ask how the suits worked, how Derham’s sonar device functioned. They did their best to explain. When Kate started to describe the mathematical text and the initials EF, Campion looked startled. Lou finished by detailing what little they had learned from the box of papers.
For several moments Campion said nothing. Getting up from his chair, he puffed on his pipe and turned to look out at the wet trees and the grass. Kate studied the man’s profile, his strong nose and high forehead wreathed with bluish pipe smoke.
‘So, you have copies of the papers?’ the professor said suddenly, turning back to face his guests.
Kate leaned down to a small attaché case she had brought. Unzipping it, she handed a sheaf of papers to the old man.
‘These are photocopies, of course,’ Lou said. ‘They are taken from the original twenty-two pages of notes and mathematical formulae we found.’
‘And the navy people haven’t studied them?’
‘We showed them to a guy at Norfolk — Professor Max Newman.’
‘Ah, yes, I know Max well. A fine scientist.’
‘I have no doubt,’ Kate replied. ‘But he wasn’t very helpful.’
‘I see. Let’s go through to the dining room,’ Campion said. ‘Less clutter there. We can have a proper look at these.’
They could hear Joan in the kitchen as George Campion spread out the sheets on the dining table. He fell silent as he studied the lines of equations.
‘Ah, yes, now this is interesting,’ the scientist said half to himself while running a finger across the second page of symbols. ‘Clearly a very sophisticated line of research. Yes,’ he added and peered down at the pages. ‘Remarkable, quite remarkable.’
Lou wanted to ask what was so remarkable but a look from Kate warned him to hold back. After some time concentrating on the papers, Campion looked up, removed his spectacles and stared at his young guests.
‘You say these came from the Titanic?’
‘Yes. From the same cabin where the radiation source was found.’
The old man shook his head slowly. ‘And you said the box these came in was marked with the initials “EF”?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Campion put his glasses back on and gave the equations another look. ‘If I had been given these by anyone else,’ he said and looked up again, ‘I would not have believed it. Even so, I find it hard to conceive.’
‘Why?’
‘Because these equations describe a way of harnessing the power of the atom — a theory describing how to make an atomic bomb.’
Kate felt a tingle pass down her spine. ‘How? The Titanic sank decades before scientists developed the theories that led to Los Alamos and the bombs used in 1945.’
‘Yes.’
‘So you’re saying that this EF went down on the Titanic and he had the secret of how to build an atomic weapon before the First World War!’ Lou leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. ‘That’s ridiculous!’
‘Well, I would have said exactly the same thing five minutes ago.’
‘But how?’ Lou went on, staring at Campion then at Kate.
‘Well, EF was a remarkable man.’
‘Who was—?’
‘Who was EF?’ Campion said, a faint smile playing across his lips. ‘Egbert Fortescue.’
‘Never heard of him.’
‘That’s because he died before he could really make his mark on the world. He was Ernest Rutherford’s assistant at Manchester University. According to the history books, he was the victim of a drowning accident in Manchester in 1912. His body was never found. Some have speculated that he was the real genius behind some of his boss’s discoveries.’
‘So you’re saying,’ Lou replied, ‘that Rutherford and this Fortescue guy discovered a way to harness atomic power a generation before the accepted version of history? And that Fortescue then died on the Titanic, taking his secrets with him?’
‘It seems to be the only explanation.’
‘He was probably being secretive on the ship, travelling under the pseudonym John Wickins,’ Kate added. ‘But how could he and Rutherford have done it? The process to harness the power of the atom, I mean.’
‘Both men were profoundly brilliant. It’s clear from this —’ the professor tapped the nearest page ‘— they were decades ahead of their time. But it’s also startling that Rutherford and Fortescue’s method was entirely different from the process Lise Meitner and Otto Hahn developed in the 1930s which led to the Allies building the first atomic weapon at Los Alamos.’
‘Different?’ Lou said.
‘Rutherford and Fortescue have come at it from left of field, but it looks very effective.’
‘But,’ Kate said, ‘what was Fortescue doing on the Titanic?’
Professor Campion seemed to have lost interest and was looking down at the pages again, running a finger across the equations, his spectacles perched on the end of his nose. ‘Good Lord!’ he exclaimed suddenly and straightened.
‘What?’ Kate and Lou said in unison.
Campion ignored them, plucking up the last page he had been reading.