controls, so that sheswooped out of the ecliptic plane and fell into an eccentric skew orbit.When this project was first started, one of our astronomers thought he'didentified the swarm--it has a regular path of its own about the sun,though the orbit is so cockeyed that spaceships hardly ever even see thethings. Anyway, knowing the orbit of the meteors and that of the_Waikiki_ at the time, he could calculate where the disaster must havetaken place--which gave us a lead in searching for the hulk. We found itafter a lot of investigation, moved it here, and built the station uparound it. Very handy. And completely secret."
Lancaster had always suspected that Security was a little mad. Now heknew it. Oh, well--
* * * * *
His room was small and austere, but privacy was nice. The lab crew atein a common refectory. Beyond the edge of their territory, greatbulkheads blocked off three-fourths of the space station. Lancaster wassure that many people and several Martians lived there, for in the daysthat followed he saw any number of strangers appearing and disappearingin the region allowed him. Most of these were workmen of some kind orother, called in to help the lab crew as needed, but all of them weretight-lipped. They must have been cautioned not to speak to the guestmore than was strictly necessary.
Living was Spartan in the station. It rotated fast enough to giveweight, but even on the outer skin that was only one-half Earth gravity.A couple of silent Martians prepared undistinguished meals and didhousework in the quarters. There were no films or other organizedrecreation, though Lancaster was told that the forbidden sector includeda good-sized room for athletics.
But the crew he worked with didn't seem to mind. They had their ownlarge collections of books and music wires, which they borrowed fromeach other. They played chess and poker with savage skill. Conversationwas, at first, somewhat restrained in Lancaster's presence, and most ofthe humor had so little reference to things he knew that he couldn'tfollow it, but he became aware that they talked with more animation andintelligence than his friends on Earth. Manners were utterly informal,and it wasn't long before even Lancaster was being addressed by hisfirst name; but cooperation was smooth and there seemed to be none ofthe intrigue and backbiting of a typical Project crew.
And the work filled their lives. Lancaster was caught up in it the "day"after his arrival, realized at once what it meant, and was plunged intothe fascination of it. Berg hadn't lied; this was big!
The perfect dielectric.
Such, at least, was the aim of the project. It was explained toLancaster that one Dr. Sophoulis had first seen the possibilities andorganized the research. It had gone ahead slowly, hampered by a lack ofneeded materials and expert personnel. When Sophoulis died, none of hisassistants felt capable of carrying on the work at any decent rate ofspeed. They were all competent in their various specialties, but ittakes more than training to do basic research--a certain inborn,intuitive flair is needed. So they had sent to Earth for a newboss--Lancaster.
The physicist scratched his head in puzzlement. It didn't seem rightthat something so important should have to take the leavings oftechnical personnel. Secrecy or not, the most competent men on Earthshould have been tapped for this job, and they should have been giveneverything they needed to carry it through. Then he forgot hisbewilderment in the clean chill ecstasy of the work.
* * * * *
Man had been hunting superior dielectrics for a long time now. It wasmore than a question of finding the perfect electrical insulator, thoughthat would be handy too. What was really important was the sort ofcondensers made possible by a genuinely good dielectric material. Giventhat, you could do fantastic things in electronics. Most significant ofall was the matter of energy storage. If you could store large amountsof electricity in an accumulator of small volume, without appreciableleakage loss, you could build generators designed to handle averagerather than peak load--with resultant savings in cost; you could buildelectric motors, containing their own energy supply and henceportable--which meant electric automobiles and possibly aircraft; youcould use inconveniently located power sources, such as remotewaterfalls, or dilute sources like sunlight, to augment--maybeeventually replace--the waning reserves of fuel and fissionableminerals; you could.... Lancaster's mind gave up on all thepossibilities opening before him and settled down to the immediate taskat hand.
"The original mineral was found on Venus, in the Gorbu-vashtar country,"explained Karen Marek. "Here's a sample." She gave him a lump of rough,dense material which glittered in hard rainbow points of light. "It wasjust a curiosity at first, till somebody thought to test its electricalproperties. Those were slightly fantastic. We have all chemical andphysical data on this stuff already, of course, as well as an excellentidea of its crystal structure. It's a funny mixture of barium andtitanium compounds with some rare earths and--well, read the report foryourself."
Lancaster's eyes skimmed down the sheaf of papers she handed him. "Can'tmake very good condensers out of this," he objected. "Too brittle--andlook how the properties vary with temperature. A practical dielectrichas to be stable in every way, at least over the range of conditions youintend to use it in."
She nodded.
"Of course. Anyway, the mineral is very rare on Venus, and you know howtough it is to search for anything in Gorbu-vashtar. What's important isthe lead it gave Sophoulis. You see, the dielectric constant of thismaterial isn't constant at all. It _increases_ with applied voltage.Look at this curve here."
Lancaster whistled. "What the devil--but that's impossible! That muchvariability means a crystal structure which is--uh--flexible, damn it!But you've got a brittle substance here--"
According to the accepted theory of dielectricity, this couldn't be.Lancaster realized with a thumping behind his veins that the theorywould have to be modified. Rather, this was an altogether differentphenomenon from normal insulation.
He supposed some geological freak had formed the mineral. Venus was astrange planet anyway. But that didn't matter. The important thing nowwas to get to know this process. He went off into a happy mist ofquantum mechanics, oscillation theory, and periodic functions of acomplex variable.
Karen and Isaacson exchanged a slow smile.
* * * * *
Sophoulis and his people had done heroic work under adverse conditions.A tentative theory of the mechanism involved had already beenformulated, and the search had started for a means to duplicate thesuper-dielectricity in materials otherwise more suitable to man's needs.But as he grew familiar with the place and the job, Lancaster wonderedjust how adverse the conditions really were.
True, the equipment was old and cranky, much of it haywired together,much of it invented from scratch. But Rakkan the Martian, for all hislack of formal education, was unbelievably clever where it came tomaking apparatus and making it behave, and Friedrichs was a top-flightdesigner. The lab had what it needed--wasn't that enough?
The rest of Lancaster's crew were equally good. The Dufreres werephysical chemists _par excellence_, Isaacson a brilliantcrystallographer with an unusual brain for mathematics, Hwang an experton quantum theory and inter-atomic forces, Karen an imaginativeexperimenter. None of them quite had the synthesizing mentality neededfor an overall picture and a fore-vision of the general direction ofwork--that had been Sophoulis' share, and was now Lancaster's--but theywere all cheerful and skilled where it came to detail work and couldoften make suggestions in a theoretical line.
Then, too, there was no Security snooping about, no petty scramble forrecognition and promotion, no red tape. What was more important,Lancaster began to realize, was the personal nature of the wholeaffair. In a Project, the overall chief set the pattern, and it wasfollowed by his subordinates with increasingly less latitude as youworked down through the lower ranks. You did what you were told,produced results or else, and kept your mouth shut outside your ownsector of the Project. You had only the vaguest idea of what actuallywas being created, and why, and how it fitted into the br
oad scheme ofsociety.
Hwang and Rakkan commented on that, one "evening" at dinner when theyhad grown more relaxed in Lancaster's presence. "It was inevitable, Isuppose, that scientific research should become corporate," said theChinese. "So much equipment was needed, and so many specialties had tobe coordinated, that the solitary genius with only a few assistantshadn't a chance. Nevertheless, it's a pity. It's destroyed initiative inmany promising young men. The top man is no longer a scientist atall--he's an administrator with some technical background. The lowerranks do have to exercise ingenuity, yes, but only along the lines theyare ordered to follow. If some interesting sideline crops up, they can'tinvestigate it. All they can do is submit a memorandum to the chief, andmost likely if anything is done it will be carried out by someone else."
"What would you do about it?" shrugged Lancaster. "You just admittedthat the old-time genius in a garret can't compete."
"No--but the small team of creative specialists, each with an excellentunderstanding of the others' fields, and each working in a loose,free-willed cooperation with the rest, can. Indeed, the results will bemuch better. It was tried once, you may know. The early cybernetics men,back in the last century, worked that way."
"I wish we could co-opt some biologists and psychologists into this,"murmured Rakkan. His English was good, though indescribably accented byhis vocal apparatus. "The cellular and neural implications ofdielectricity look--promising. Maybe later."
"Well," said Lancaster defensively, "a large Project can be made moresecure--less chance of leakage."
Hwang said nothing, but he cocked an eyebrow at an almost treasonableangle.
* * * * *
In going through Sophoulis' equations, Lancaster found what he believedwas the flaw that was blocking progress. The man had used a simplifiedquantum mechanics without correction for relativistic effects. That madefor neater mathematics but overlooked certain space-time aspects of thepsi function. The error was excusable, for Sophoulis had not beenfamiliar with the Belloni matrix, a mathematical tool that brought orderinto what was otherwise incomprehensible chaos. Belloni's work was stillclassified information, being too useful, in the design of new alloys,for general consumption. Lancaster went happily to work correcting theequations. But when he was finished, he realized that he had no businessshowing his results without proper clearance.
He wandered glumly into the lab. Karen was there alone, setting up anapparatus for the next attempt at heat treatment. A smock covered herinto shapelessness, and her spectacular hair was bound up in a kerchief,but she still looked good. Lancaster, a shy man, was more susceptible toher than he wanted to be.
"Where's Berg?" he asked.
"Back on Earth with Jessup," she told him. "Why?"
"Damn! It holds up the whole business till he returns." Lancasterexplained his difficulty.
Karen laughed. "Oh, that's all right," she said in the low voice heliked to hear. "We've all been cleared."
"Not officially. I've got to see the papers."
She glared at him then and stamped her foot. "How stupid can you getwithout having to be spoon fed?" she snapped. "You've seen how much wethink of regulations here. Let's have those equations, Mac."
"But--blast it, Karen, you don't appreciate the need for security. Bergexplained it to me once--how dangerous the rebels are, and how easilythey can steal our secrets. And they'll stop at nothing. Do you wantanother Hemispheric War?"
She looked oddly at him, and when she spoke it was softly. "Allen, doyou really believe that?"
"Certainly! It's obvious, isn't it? Our country is maintaining the peaceof the Solar System--once we drop the reins, all hell will run away fromus."
"What's wrong with setting up a world-wide federation of countries? Mostother nations are willing."
"But that--it's not _practical_!"
"How do you know? It's never been tried."
"Anyway, we can't decide policy. That's just not for us."
"The United States is a democratic country--remember?"
"But--" Lancaster looked away. For a moment he stood unspeaking, and shewatched him with grave eyes and said nothing. Then, not really knowingwhy he did it, he lifted a defiant head. "All right! We'll go ahead--andif Berg sends us all to camp, don't blame me."
"He won't." She laughed and clapped his shoulder. "You know, Allen,there are times when I think you're human after all."
"Thanks," he grinned wryly. "How about--uh--how about having a--a b-beerwith me now? To celebrate."
"Why, sure."
* * * * *
They went down to the shop. A cooler of beer was there, its contentsbeing reckoned as among the essential supplies brought from Earth byJessup. Lancaster uncapped two bottles, and he and Karen sat down on abench, swinging their legs and looking over the silent, waitingmachines. Most of the station personnel were off duty now, in thearbitrary "night."
He sighed at last. "I like it here."
"I'm glad you do, Allen."
"It's a funny place, but I like it. The station and all its wackyinhabitants. They're heterodox as the very devil and would have troublegetting a dog catcher's job back home, but they're all refreshing."Lancaster snapped his fingers. "Say, that's it! That's why you're allout here. The government needs your talents, and you aren't quitetrusted, so you're put here out of range of spies. Right?"
"Do you have to see a rebel with notebook in hand under every bed?" sheasked with a hint of weariness. "The First Amendment hasn't beenrepealed yet, they say. Theoretically we're all entitled to our ownopinions."
"Okay, okay, I won't argue politics. Tell me about some of the peoplehere, will you? They're an odd bunch."
"I can't tell you much, Allen. That's where Security does apply.Isaacson is a Martian colonist, you've probably guessed that already.Jessup lost his hand in a--a fight with some enemies once. The Dufrereshad a son who was killed in the Moroccan incident." Lancaster rememberedthat that affair had involved American power used to crush a French spyring centered in North Africa. Sovereignty had been brushed aside. Butdamn it, you had to preserve the status quo, for your own survival ifnothing else. "Hwang had to go into exile when the Chinese governmentchanged hands a few years back. I--"
"Yes?" he asked when her voice faded out.
"Oh, I might as well tell you. My husband and I lived in America afterour marriage. He was a good biotechnician and had a job with one of thebig pharmaceutical companies. Only he--went to camp. Later he died orwas shot, I don't know which." Her words were flat.
"That's a shame," he said inadequately.
"The funny part of it is, he wasn't engaged in treason at all. He wasquite satisfied with things as they were--oh, he talked a little, but sodoes everybody. I imagine some rival or enemy put the finger on him."
"Those things happen," said Lancaster. "It's too bad, but they happen."
"They're bound to occur in a police state," she said. "Sorry. We weren'tgoing to argue politics, were we?"
"I never said the world was perfect, Karen. Far from it. Only whatalternative have we got? Any change is likely to be so dangerousthat--well, man can't afford mistakes."
"No, he can't. But I wonder if he isn't making one right now. Oh, well.Give me another beer."
They talked on indifferent subjects till Karen said it was her bedtime.Lancaster escorted her to her apartment. She looked at him curiously ashe said good night, and then went inside and closed the door. Lancasterhad trouble getting to sleep.
* * * * *
The corrected equations provided an adequate theory ofsuper-dielectricity--a theory with tantalizing hints about still otherphenomena--and gave the research team a precise idea of what they wantedin the way of crystal structure. Actually, the substance to be formedwas only semi-crystalline, with plastic features as well, all interwovenwith a grid of carbon-linked atoms. Now the trick was to produce thatstuff. Calculation revealed what elements would be needed, and w
hatspatial arrangement--only how did you get the atoms to assume therequired configuration and hook up in the right way?
Theory would get you only so far, thereafter it was cut and try.Lancaster rolled up his sleeves with the rest and let Karen take overthe leadership--she was the best experimenter. He spent some gloriousand all but sleepless weeks, greasy, dirty, living in a jungle ofhaywired apparatus with a restless slide rule. There were plenty offailures, a lot of heartbreak and profanity, an occasional injury--butthey kept going, and they got there.
The day came--or was it the night?--when Karen took a slab of darklyshining substance out of the furnace where it had been heat-aging.Rakkan sawed it into several chunks for testing. It was Lancaster whoworked on the electric properties.
He applied voltage till his generator groaned, and watched in awe asmeters climbed and climbed without any sign of stopping. He dischargedthe accumulated energy in a single blue flare that filled the lab withthunder and ozone. He tested for time lag of an electric signal andwondered wildly if it didn't feel like sleeping on its weary path.
The reports came in, excited yells from one end of the long, clutteredroom to the other, exultant whoops and men pounding each other on theback. This was it! This was the treasure at the rainbow's
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