The Earth-Tube

by Gawain Edwards

  King arose, his face betraying the agitation which he was feeling.

  “This is certainly no matter for the scientific magazines or the lecture platform,” he exclaimed. “This is for the Secretary of War!”

  Dr. Scott smiled bitterly.

  “And do you think the learned Secretary would believe it if you did tell him?” he asked. “I’ve had too much experience with public men to think that it would do any good to take this matter to the government. now.”

  King had been pacing the room. “Even so,” he replied firmly, “we must try it. We won’t ask the Secretary to believe anything for which he hasn’t seen the proof. Let him visit us in the laboratory, where we can show him anything it requires to satisfy his mind.”

  The older scientist, still unconvinced, pondered the matter for a moment.

  “I’ll write a letter inviting him,” he said at length. “But it will be your job to get it to his attention.”

  “I don’t believe that will be difficult,” replied King. “The only necessary thing is haste. While we are wasting time in speculation here, who knows what may be going on in the center of the earth?”

  III

  Washington was then, as now, not only the capital city of the government of North America, but the seat as well of the whole Pan-American State. Caught up in the whirl of the pre-holiday social season, in a capital noted the world over for its brilliance and splendor, it is a regrettable fact that the officials of the State were among those in the country who appeared least concerned about the phenomena which had shaken the faith of scientists and inspired fear in the hearts of citizens and workers. Even in the month of December, when the curious manifestations had begun to recur again and again with regularity and increasing severity, there were many who considered them absolutely no business of the Pan-American Government and so conserved their energies for matters more befitting the ruling heads of the Western Hemisphere.

  Individually, however, as private persons interested in all affairs which affected the public good, several of the more important officials had given at least passing notice to the earth-vibrations. One in particular, Dr. Philip Angell, the Secretary of War of the Pan-Americas, had even gone so far as to make certain independent mathematical calculations of his own in a vain attempt to explain the riddle. But Dr. Angell, despite his accomplishments in statecraft, was only an amateur mathematician at best and no scientist at all; his interest in the earth-vibrations only led him to dissipate precious energy in following out the fruitless mazes of the subject, and after a time he dropped it altogether to spend his time at better things.

  It was toward the end of the last month of that memorable year that the Secretary’s interest in the subject was unexpectedly renewed by a happening which at the time seemed only annoying and of little moment. Busy in his office in Washington, he was going over the text of an address which he was scheduled to make that evening when an attendant came in silently and laid an unpretentious calling card upon the polished surface at his elbow. Impatiently the Secretary glanced up from his work. Upon the card, simply engraved, was the name of his caller.

  Dr. Angell looked inquiringly at the attendant. “And who is this King Henderson?” he asked.

  “A scientist, sir, I think he said. He has a message which he considers of great importance, sir. He was very insistent.”

  “Has he an appointment?” queried the Secretary in a bored tone.

  “Yes. it’s true he has, sir.”

  “How did that happen?”

  “Why, Senator Ellery arranged it yesterday, sir. You remember it, I’m sure.”

  “Oh. Senator Ellery!”

  The Secretary frowned, glanced at his work and dismissed the matter with a wave of his hand.

  “Sorry. I can’t see him now. Some other time.”

  The attendant mumbled and went out, and Dr. Angell once more gave his attention to his manuscript. The speech had to do with the well-being of the country, the spread of Pan-American influence and trade. Halfway down the sheet the pencil of the Secretary paused, while he reread a sentence. “A neat phrase, that,” he was thinking. “I must underline it.”

  A scuffling sound in the ante-chamber reached his ears. In a moment, while the pencil paused in midair, he was again disturbed by the presence of the attendant in the room. With the attendant was another person. Exasperated, the Secretary swung around in his chair, glancing first at the aide, who was cringing and apologetic.

  “I couldn’t keep him out, sir. He scuffled with me and brought me right in here with him. I. didn’t like to use a weapon. “

  The tone of the War Secretary was acid.

  “That’s what you carry it for, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. sir!”

  “Then next time. use it!”

  The Secretary of War of the Pan-Americas stood up and glanced coldly at the stranger who had taken such liberties with the dignity of his office. He saw before him a tall and determined young man, a fellow who had about him a distinct air of courage and initiative. He returned the glance of the Secretary coolly and smiled.

  “I am King Henderson,” he announced, without waiting for the official to speak. “Your attendant here . rather got in my way as I was coming in. I’m sorry I had to ruffle his feathers in that way, but it was more or less necessary. “

  He smiled again as if the explanation had cleared the matter up. The Secretary, however, was still annoyed.

  “This is an office of the Government of the Pan-Americas,” he declared severely, “and an important one. I shall ask you, young man, to leave the way you came, but more quietly.”

  The visitor’s eyes grew serious. “I realize that I have committed a breach in forcing my way in here,” he replied. “I hope you will forgive my levity about it. The matter which brings me here, however, is of such importance not only to you but to the whole Western World that I would never have been forgiven by you or by the people of the Pan-Americas if I had not brought it to your attention, no matter how unconventionally.”

  “Well. !”

  The Secretary, somewhat mollified, hesitated between calling the capitol guards or permitting his visitor to continue. King, however, seized his opportunity and took the decision out of Dr. Angell’s hands by continuing, unbidden.

  “It is about the shaking and jarring of the earth, which has so troubled the scientists of the world in the last few months,” he explained. “I bear a message from a scientist who has found the answer to the riddle and who has discerned in these manifestations a matter of such grave import that he considered it of the utmost importance to bring it to your attention before it is announced to the world.”

  “And who is this scientist?” Dr. Angell’s tone betrayed a glimmer of interest.

  “Dr. Emile Stannard Scott.”

  The Secretary, cudgeling his brain to recall where he had heard the name of this scientist before, or what had been said of him, replied vaguely.

  “Hmm. I see.”

  “Do you know him?” asked King.

  “Well. I rather think I’ve heard some one speak of him. At any rate, his name is well known.” The Secretary was again permitting his attention to wander to the papers on his desk, seeking some means of bringing the interview tactfully to a close. “Well,” he said at length, somewhat coldly, “I’m glad to hear that the matter is finally settled. and of course I’m glad to hear that the successful scientist is Dr. Scott.”

  “But the point is,” said King, “that the matter is not settled, else we would never have troubled you about the matter at all. I have here a letter and an invitation from Dr. Scott. What he has written there, I think, explains itself.”

  Dr. Angell took the missive suspiciously and broke the seal. The communication was couched in the characteristically blunt and direct language of the old scientist. It would cause no little amusement in official circles, the Secretary was thinking, if he should choose to exhibit it.

  Dr. Scott had written that a matter affecting the safety
of many thousands of persons had come to his attention, and he requested the Secretary to come for an interview at his laboratory in New York City without delay.

  “You are yourself a student and a mathematician,” Dr. Scott had written, “and therefore you will probably be interested in what I have to show you in your personal, if not in your official capacity. Needless to say, my researches have convinced me beyond the shadow of a doubt that these tremors are not the result of malignant influences outside our planet, or changes, chemical or otherwise, at its center, in the sense used recently by persons who have been announcing such discoveries.’

  “They are, on the contrary, the result of activities directed by human intelligence, and they mean serious, perhaps fatal, consequences to the people of the Western Hemisphere, if not of the whole civilized world.”

  “Well,” said King, when he saw that the Secretary had finished, “will you come?”

  The official smiled cynically and dropped the note among the litter of papers already on his desk.

  “If you ask me,” he replied, ignoring the question, “I think Dr. Scott has become quite a little. melodramatic!”

  He bowed politely, signifying that the interview was at an end. King smiled as two attendants appeared to escort him from the room.

  “We will be expecting you at the laboratory,” he remarked. “I assure you that if this is melodrama, it is based upon such cold, hard facts that the whole world will be overwhelmed by them if you do not act very soon.”

  IV

  It is unlikely that the Secretary, who was a popular and busy man, much harassed by public obligations, would ever have acceded to the request of so obscure a savant, and one so obviously mad, had the matter not leaked, in some mysterious manner, to the newspapers. The public announcement that Dr. Scott, whose hold on the popular imagination was tremendous despite his professional standing, had made a sensational discovery with regard to the behavior of the earth and that he had sought to communicate it to Dr. Angell without success stirred up a mighty storm in the more excitable papers. However much the conservative and scientific journals were inclined to scoff, the newspapers that were most widely read expressed at first surprise, then annoyance, and finally downright anger at the Secretary’s neglect of the scientist’s invitation to the conference.

  Dr. Angell was sensitive in those days, as always, to the public will, particularly as expressed in print. And when one paper printed his photograph three days in succession on its front page, with the caption: “Hasn’t Seen Scientist Yet!” he capitulated. On the third afternoon he announced that he would visit Dr. Scott at once and learn at first hand whether the old man was insane or otherwise.

  Dr. Scott and Anna were in the laboratory with King when the Secretary came. They heard the strong, important ringing of the bell, and King slid down from the tall stool upon which he had been sitting. “I think we have an important visitor,” he remarked. “Now it’s up to you to convince him.”

  Dr. Scott smiled briefly. “That may be a tougher job than getting him to come here,” he said, “but I’ll do my best.”

  “He’ll believe you,” King replied.

  The Secretary was accompanied by a clerical assistant and a uniformed attendant. Dr. Scott, his stained apron napping unceremoniously about his knees, went to the door and admitted him. He offered chairs for the entire party before an alcove in the laboratory, which had been screened off in anticipation of the interview.

  “You have met my associate. “ began Dr. Scott warmly. “To his help and ingenuity I owe the success of most of my recent experiments. “

  “I can well imagine,” returned the Secretary dryly.

  “He paid me a visit at my office the other day.” He glanced airily about the room and continued, “In case he feels like repeating his forced entry, I might say that my attendants have all been instructed to shoot first and ask questions afterward.”

  King smiled and gripped the Secretary’s hand. “It won’t be necessary to repeat the visit,” he said. “Dr. Scott will make clear to you to-day what we have to show you.”

  “And this is my daughter,” said Dr. Scott.

  Dr. Angell saw that Anna was a beautiful girl, quiet and poised. He glanced at her appreciatively as he acknowledged the introduction.

  Anna returned his smile.

  “I’m glad you came,” she said.

  “We are all eager to place this information as soon as possible in the hands of the Government,” Dr. Scott continued quickly. “My letter,” he went on, “explained in general the reason for calling you here.”

  The Secretary accepted the proffered chair suspiciously. “If you will pardon me,” he replied, “your letter not only mentioned the subject of this interview, but contained statements which convinced me, my dear Professor, that you are perhaps. a little unbalanced.”

  The scientist smiled.

  “I thought you would say that,” he returned evenly. “That’s why I asked you to come to my laboratory. Here we can give you demonstrations, Mr. Secretary. We can back our theories up with ample proof!”

  King swung the alcove screen aside. In the brightly lighted space beyond there was a model of the earth, a huge globe more than fifteen feet in diameter, made apparently of day and stone, with jellylike masses to represent water and rough approximations of the continents and mountain chains. At the turn of a switch the model moved upon its axis, slowly at first, then with gathering speed. Tiny and intricate seismographic units,3 situated at various places upon the surface, made accurate records whenever this even motion was disturbed. It was a complete instrument for studying the phenomena of the earth.

  “You will permit us, I hope, to show you exactly what we mean,” Dr. Scott continued, glancing briefly at his model to observe its turning. The Secretary, who was staring at the huge object with ill-concealed amazement and surprise, slowly nodded.

  “Yes,” he replied, “though I haven’t the slightest notion what you are trying to prove.”

  “I’ll try to make that clear,” said Dr. Scott.

  He took a short pointer from a rack near by and moved it about the sphere, indicating features as he mentioned them, in an absent-minded manner he had acquired through years of teaching in his lean middle life.

  “You will remember,” he began, “that these peculiar manifestations were first noticed about four years ago. At the beginning they were irregular, of small importance, and appeared to be located near the surface, somewhere in the northern part of the Eastern Hemisphere.

  “They grew steadily in intensity throughout the following two years, and began to attract attention among scientists, at first more because they were difficult to locate exactly than because they were considered dangerous. They were still attributed vaguely to the Eastern Hemisphere, perhaps in the general region of southern Japan.

  “But if you will remember, no careful check was possible, because of the conquering hordes which had poured out of central Asia five years earlier, overwhelming both Japan and China. Triumphant, they had closed these ancient lands once again to Western visitors and forbidden all communication between the West and that particular portion of the East.

  “Until a year ago it was generally thought that some obscure volcanic action was taking place over there. Little attention was paid to it, because there were thought to be no Occidentals there except a few who were considered to have been killed at the time of the conquest. Therefore, what happened in Japan was deemed of little real concern to us, especially after we were signally unsuccessful in attacking the curious new metal fortifications erected along the shores by those unknown peoples out of Asia.

  “The beating and hammering of the earth was not really a cause for serious thought in this country until some scientist discovered that it no longer appeared to be located on the surface at the other side of the globe, but at or near the center. This, I need hardly say, was a most unusual discovery, for hitherto earth shocks have all been supposed to originate somewhere near the surface
; at least within that outer envelope of hard crust known as the lithosphere, which for convenience’ sake is generally supposed to extend into the earth about ten miles.

  “Beyond that depth we know nothing of the earth except what we have guessed and calculated. It was thought safe to conclude, however, that the interior was continually subjected to pressure enormous beyond human comprehension, and that while probably not molten, due to the great pressure, it would be so tremendously hot that the hardest stones would be instantly melted, and perhaps rendered gaseous, should the pressure suddenly be removed.

  “Under such conditions, it seems likely that there could be no natural cavities at the center of the earth, and consequently no movement of strata. Accordingly, when tremors were reported to be originating in this hot and compressed region, it caused a sensation. Most scientists immediately set it down to miscalculations or imperfections in the instruments. A few speculated, but got nowhere.”

  The Secretary nodded comprehendingly.

  “The tremors we now experience first began to cause alarm a few months ago,” Dr. Scott went on. “At that time they first assumed their present regular and rhythmic aspect. Before that they were frequent, but irregular. They varied greatly in intensity and duration. Now they have become so standardized that they can be forecast and measured in advance. Whatever change has taken place in the earth, it is certain that these manifestations have entered a new and terrifying phase, no longer to be confused with earthquakes or ordinary mechanical or chemical phenomena.”

  The scientist paused for a moment, dramatically. Dr. Angell, the Secretary of War of the Pan-Americas, was sitting forward in his chair, deeply interested, and for the first time understanding the problem in its scientific light. His attendants, neither of them learned men, were also interested. In the face of the clerk, who had been taking down Dr. Scott’s remarks in shorthand, there was a peculiar expression of horror as if he had already grasped the significance of the words and the conclusion to which they must inevitably lead.