The Collected Stories

by Earl

  “My friend sent in an application for patent for the Atomic Power process prior to whomever it was awarded,” said Lewis, half angrily. “I demand—”

  “Yes, yes, of course!” interposed the official in a sarcastic tone. “Naturally you and your friend invented it first, and have been cheated!” His voice changed, became cold. “My dear sir, do you realize that you’re the hundredth crank who has been here claiming to be the original inventor? It’s always the same. Whenever a new, revolutionizing process of one sort or another is patented, a thousand people rush forward with their preposterous claims over it.”

  “I see,” said Lewis thoughtfully. He suddenly realized the magnitude of the forces against him.

  “You don’t look like a crank,” went on the official, in more friendly tones. “If you have any proofs of priority, you can contest the case in court.”

  “Thanks,” said Lewis, leaving.

  He went to a telegraph office and sent a message to his wife at home. “Will remain here for indefinite stay. Letter follows.” Then he went to a well-known law firm and began the wheels of court grinding.

  “I must fight this out,” he muttered grimly to himself, “if it takes every penny Tarkton left me and every penny of my own!”

  A year later, after a succession of court cases, it had taken every penny of his combined funds. The powerful interests behind the man in whose name the patent had been issued lavishly poured thousands into their defense. The man was a puppet behind which reposed a huge, mysterious financial group who had their clutches on something they were not willing to let go.

  Lewis finally returned home, defeated. His wife could hardly believe it was her husband, so haggard was his face, so bowed his spirit. He said little. He thought much, as was evidenced by long hours locked in his room.

  Headlines were in the newspapers a month later. Headlines that startled the world.

  “First Atomic Power Engine! To be put in operation tomorrow, after elaborate dedication ceremonies, at Kinsington Cotton Mills. Atomic Power Inc., a new tycoon of the electrical field, announces that it will produce electricity at one-fifth the present cost. Incredible as it sounds, the ‘fuel’ with which they will stoke their steam-boilers is sand—common sand!”

  Editorials appeared in the newspapers that evening, denouncing it as the greatest hoax, or perhaps publicity stunt, in the history of civilization.

  But the headlines the next day screamed: “Atomic Power Engine Works! Using only sand, which was sifted down through the fire-box, a steady heat supply was maintained that easily ran the giant electrical generator at full capacity. An invisible ray sprays over the sifting sand, changing part of its atoms into pure heat energy, according to the officials. What the ray is, no one knows. It is the ‘secret’ of the process. Visiting engineers were baffled and admitted that the process is ten times as efficient as the use of coal.” Again editorials appeared, denouncing it as the greatest hoax, or perhaps publicity stunt, in the history of the world.

  But the headlines of the next day shouted: “Stock market in a turmoil! New Atomic Power process threatens gigantic utilities industry. Atomic Power Inc., with secret plants built during the past year, is already supplying current to large factories.”

  Now the editorials began hailing the discovery as the greatest boon in mankind’s history, and predicting an immediate era of golden prosperity.

  But the succeeding headlines groaned: “Industrial fabric of nation faced with collapse! Power companies going bankrupt daily. Wave of suicides among financiers who were made paupers overnight. Is Atomic Power Inc., already looming as the number one industry, doing right by its drastic underselling of power?”

  Editorials appeared, praising Atomic Power Inc. as the liberator of humanity from economic slavery.

  But the headlines later said: “Prices rising steadily. Lists of unemployed grow. Ten killed in riot at the Kinsington Mills. Attempt is made to destroy Atomic Power engines.”

  “Tarkton foresaw something of this,” sighed Dr. Henry Lewis, following the news avidly, “if his discovery were not properly introduced into modern civilization. The Lord only knows where all this will end up. It is harder to stop things like that than start them.” He paced his room with a bitter expression. “How did it ever happen in the first place?”

  He did not know of Milton Sander. Milton Sander was at that moment holding a gun against his temple, in a shabby room somewhere in Europe. He was penniless. He had played the stock market and was wiped out with millions of others in the stupendous financial crash from across the seas.

  He had nothing more to live for. Besides, he somewhat realized that he had been instrumental in the recent course of events. It frightened him also to remember that he had sold a copy of the plans to a certain Oriental power. Milton Sander passed from life, with a bullet in his brain.

  Events moved swiftly over the world that had just inherited Atomic Power. Atomic Power Inc., in the next year, inexorably made itself the number one financial giant of the world’s industries. The formerly great coal, oil and waterpower utilities fought a losing battle—crumbled into history. The new engine quickly spread into Europe and caused the same misadjustments, blunders and riots at first.

  CHAPTER IV

  Disaster

  DR. HENRY LEWIS sat in his home with a secret burning within him. He sat quietly, listening to world news over the radio daily, and reading the newspapers. He had grown haggard in the past two years since the death of Tarkton and the birth of Atomic Power. What would all this lead to? He waited—

  As his only means of support, he continued teaching at the university, but became so preoccupied that his students learned little. To Lewis it had all become trifling—all except the fate of Atomic Power. At home his wife, with a rare understanding, sat by his side silently, also waiting—

  Feeling as though he were a disembodied spirit hovering high over earth and watching its struggles, Lewis began to breathe a little easier. Perhaps all would be well after all. Perhaps Tarkton’s fears had been unfounded. Then—it happened!

  But in the most surprising, unexpected way Lewis could have conceived. He first heard the item over the radio, given by a shocked announcer.

  “Unconfirmed report that the people in the city of Seattle are dying off at a tremendous rate! This is attributed to the presence of a fleet of aircraft—believed to be Asiatic—which suddenly appeared over the city and began circling it hour after hour. But there is no visible indication that they are causing thousands upon thousands of people to die with their flesh burned away from their bones. Nor have any fires broken out. State militia and the Pacific Navy have been ordered to the scene.”

  Lewis turned pale, horrified. Flesh burned away from the bones, like with radium! That meant gamma-rays! And gamma-rays meant Atomic Power! Nervously he waited to hear further reports of this mysterious menace.

  Three days later the full story was out. The enemy from across the waters was waging an unannounced war of invasion on America. Their aircraft had been equipped with some terrible new weapon that shot out an invisible beam of death. It had little or no effect on inanimate matter, but instantly cooked human flesh away from the bones.

  With this weapon, the enemy had in three days achieved an unprecedented coup. In two days of continuous use of their death-ray, they had decimated the entire population of Seattle. And they had sent a fleet of American aircraft, rushing to the defense of the city, to crashing doom.

  Now, on the third day, Seattle was already being populated with Orientals. All had apparently been planned to the last detail. A fleet of merchant vessels bearing hundreds of thousands of aliens, had secretly steamed across the Pacific and arrived just after the aircraft had done their work. These Orientals were now calmly cleaning up the city and taking it over, without a dollar’s loss in material damage.

  Lewis groaned, realizing the diabolical thoroughness of it. Invincible, the lethal fleet would go from city to city, ridding each of its inhabitants. Acro
ss the Pacific would come armada after armada of Orientals, to take over the cities. When the American naval fleet elected to interfere, the enemy naval fleet would engage them. Armed with the new weapon, they would be victors, inevitably. In a few months the western coast would be in foreign hands. Then they would creep inward, day after day.

  Lewis’ shoulders sagged in despair.

  Tarkton had been right after all. Every new scientific discovery is turned to warfare sooner of later. All this must have begun at the time two years ago when the patent for the basic Atomic Power unit had slipped out of his hands. The enemy, whose agents must have stolen a copy of the plans, had planned conquest. Instead of concentrating on the invention’s industrial uses, they had immediately applied it to the military. They had somehow found the way to release Atomic Power as gamma-radiation rather than heat-radiation, a simple enough shift in the spectrum scale[3].

  With this Herculean weapon against which the world had no defense, the enemy could not be stopped. They might well conquer all earth! Or if the defending race also adapted Atomic Power to the gamma range, a truly titantic war would result, and that could not be a lesser evil. Humanity would lose either way—and civilization.

  A dark, terrible future faced mankind. Atomic Power had run wild!

  Lewis, after hours of these thoughts, stood up, eyes burning. “This is the time!” he said so solemnly that his wife shuddered.

  He went to his room, unlocked his desk drawer. He took out the box Tarkton had sent him two years before. Carefully Lewis broke the seals and took out the shining, heavy little instrument within. It consisted of a small, thick quartz-glass vacuum tube holding a beautiful crystal of carborundum. The cathode was aimed directly for the glittering crystal. Beside the tube were several intricate coils of insulated copper and an electromagnet.

  Lewis set the compact instrument on the table and stared at it wonderingly. Then he picked it up again and strode like a robot to the door of his home. His face was set in grim, twisted lines. His wife, seeing something in his eyes, sobbed brokenly at his shoulder. Lewis kissed her tenderly, left without a word.

  It was late at night. He walked to the university, had the nightwatchman let him in, unlocked the door to his private laboratory. He set the instrument on the workbench and attached two heavy cables to its leads. The terminals of the cables at the switch panel, was marked “20,000 volts.”

  Eyes fixed on the instrument with an unblinking stare, Lewis fumbled in his coat pocket and pulled out Tarkton’s last letter. He read again that portion that had been his secret from all the world for two years. Said Tarkton from his grave:

  In the box is a small but important instrument. My researches in gamma radiation, with the carborundum crystal, showed me a remarkable thing. There is a certain vibration which, with sufficient power behind it, will shatter every crystal of carborundum in the world! Shatter it into pure radiation—with an explosive effect unparalleled in chemical explosives.

  That instrument is set to produce this certain vibration. It is in your hands. If you are faced with a stupendous emergency, in which all the world and civilization are involved, use the instrument, giving it 20,000 volts. It will instantly shatter every carborundum crystal on earth. Every Atomic Power device, based on my unit, will then be rendered useless. It is a perfect checkmate to Atomic Power—if it runs wild!

  The explosions of the crystals will of course take many human lives among those within range of their blasts. Therefore, you must not take these lives unless you are thereby sure of saving many more lives in the future!

  Lewis did not ponder this long. There might be hundreds, perhaps thousands of lives lost through the use of this instrument now. But there would be millions upon millions lost later, and a civilization crushed, if he delayed. It was a Jovian choice, with only one answer.

  Face set frozenly with determination, Lewis stepped to the panel and knifed a gleaming switch. Twenty thousand volts of energy sang lustily as they surged along the cables and through the coils of the instrument on the table. The relays of the electromagnet clicked softly.

  Lewis stepped before the instrument, poised his finger over the key that would send current leaping through the tube. A ravening sphere of super-radiation would burst from the crystal and bubble over the earth in a split second. In that same split second, every other crystal of carborundum in the world would dissolve into explosive radiation.

  He moved his finger closer to the key. The hair on the nape of his neck stiffened. Weird, incredible moment. Human lives sacrificed—and saved—at the touch of his finger.

  Fate and Dr. Henry Lewis stood face to face.

  Then his finger jabbed firmly down on the key. He saw nothing of the supernally brilliant globe of radiant fire that burst from the tube and touched off similar globes of force all over earth.

  END

  [1] The phrase used here is in reference to the rule first formulated by Einstein in 1915. It was a natural deduction from the phenomenon of radio-activity, or the breakdown of certain atoms into simpler atoms with release of energy. Such conversion of mass into energy occurred only in nature and man seemed unable to hasten or alter the process.

  Since that time, science has sought the means to unlock the vast storehouse of energy bound in matter, and has had some measure of success. Noteworthy among these are the experiments with the cyclotron, or atom-smasher, built by Dr. M.A. Tuve and his colleagues, Drs. N.P. Heydenburg and L.R. Hafstad at Carnegie Institute of Washington, and also experiments by Drs. R.G. Herb, D.W. Kerst, and D. B. Parkinson, of the University of Wisconsin. Even the popular imagination has been fired by this golden dream of unlimited energy and it has been labeled Atomic Power.—Ed.

  [2] The total atomic demolition of a gram-mass (of any element) would yield 1,000 horsepower for four years. This quantity of energy almost staggers the imagination. However, science has so far been able to release only infinitesimal amounts of it. Elaborate machinery and energy greater than that extracted is necessary for the process.

  An Atomic Power heating unit, with an efficiency of only .0004 would still get ten times more energy from a pound of stone than modern steam- engines get from a pound of coal. Such a unit would be useful for heavy-duty work immediately, and would undoubtedly supplant all other generators of power in a few years. It would automatically reduce by ten times the cost of all power-production.—Ed.

  [3] The spectrum scale of radiation is a scale of vibratory range adapted from the spectroscopic scale of color, the visible portion of vibration waves. It is assumed that all vibrations are contained in a continually graduating scale, of which color, sound, X-rays, radio waves, cosmic rays, etc., are all specific ranges.—Ed.

  ORESTES REVOLTS

  The robot had a mind—a somewhat too literal mind!

  THERE was the inevitable interruption. “Doc” Fothergill stood in the doorway, peering nearsightedly into the darkness of the porch where we were.

  “Ian,” he called uncertainly, not knowing but what we had taken a walk in the cool night. “Are you there? Will you come in my laboratory a moment? I won’t keep you long.”

  T was tempted to keep silent, and by Hazel’s silence I knew she was thinking the same. But unfortunately the porch swing creaked at that moment, giving us away. With an involuntary sigh, that I converted into a polite cough, I got up, murmuring excuses to Hazel.

  “Won’t take but a minute,” came her father’s cracked tones. “But I need your help.”

  I followed him to what he fondly called his laboratory, though it was only a spare storeroom in the large colonial house, filled with an aimless potpourri of junk. He called it “apparatus”. Sixty and retired, Doc Fothergill refused to rest on the laurels of a lifetime of medical practice. He had been a good doctor. Now he was a bad experimenter.

  When I faced him in his workshop, blinking in the bright lights, I noticed for the first time the excitement in his cherubic face. Even his always-un-trimmed goatee bristled with nervous energy.

>   I stared querulously, or so I thought, until he said: “Don’t look so peevish. You and Hazel can get along without one another for a few seconds. Antony and Cleopatra did for years.” Sarcastic as ever, I thought. The old wretch went on oracularly. “Besides, this is in the cause of science! Take off your coat and roll up your sleeves.”

  It sounded like work to me until he insisted that I pull up my trouser legs tight, and then I began wondering. “Now sit down here,” he commanded, “and don’t be alarmed while I fasten this—and this——”

  Nimble for all his years, he already had me plumped into a chair and was strapping bands of copper mesh around my wrists, ankles and head. Double stranded wires ran from each to somewhere in back of me. Trussed up like a fowl, I went pale. Was the old chap going to electrocute me? I started up, protesting.

  He pushed me back rather ungently and patted my head like a father quieting the fears of his child. “Don’t get scared, Ian,” he soothed. “Don’t you trust me?”

  Frankly, I didn’t. Not that I suspected the old codger to be sadistic, for he was really filled with the milk of human kindness, as doctors generally are. But the milk might have gone sour. Furthermore, it was debatable whether he knew what his puttering was all about. He might accidentally polish me off, and be very sorry afterwards, but not responsible. And I would be dead. And—well, my thoughts simply horrified me.

  “LOOK HERE,” I finally blurted out, “I demand to know what it’s all about. Tell me something, anyway.”

  “Of course, of course. I’ll explain, though you won’t understand in the first place. Naturally, no one can understand, since my researches have taken me into unexplored regions of advanced science.” Modest, he was!

  He went on impressively. “After many years of thought and labor, I’ve reduced the human brain to a system of volts and amperes. All thought, I believe, can be expressed in electrical terms. More, thought can be transmitted along wires, like electricity. It is simply a matter of supplying the right conductor and suitable amplification. The right conductor is any colloidal, once-living material, like leather or catgut. I use the latter. I produce amplification by phasing in radio impulses. This apparatus, in its simplicity, is a radio set with a human brain for one of its oscillators, connected by catgut.”