Heavy Water
Hartson Brant walked swiftly to the telephone and picked it up.
"What's the matter, Dad?" Rick asked quickly. The scientist had a
strange look on his face.
"Give me the telegraph office," Hartson Brant said. He put his hand over
the mouthpiece. "I'll tell you in a moment. I want to get a wire off
immediately." He spoke into the phone again. "Western Union? This is
Spindrift, Brant speaking. I want to send a straight telegram. Yes. To
Steven Ames."
Rick gasped. Steve Ames was the young intelligence officer of JANIG, the
secret Army-Navy group charged with protecting the security of American
government secrets. The Spindrift group of scientists had worked with
Steve in solving _The Whispering Box Mystery_.
Scotty's fingers bit into Rick's arm.
Hartson Brant gave the address. "Here's the message. 'Have reconsidered
your request basis of new information just received here. Urge you come
or phone at once.' That's it. Sign it 'Brant, Spindrift.' Yes. Charge to
this number."
He waited until the telegraph office had read back the message, then
hung up and turned to the waiting group.
"Three days ago I had a phone call from Steve Ames. He asked if I could
undertake a special job for the government that would require me to go
overseas at once for an indefinite time. I was forced to decline because
obviously I can't leave now with these staff changes about to take
place."
The scientist knocked the ashes out of his pipe, his face thoughtful.
"Steve wouldn't take no for an answer. He insisted that the job was of
the utmost importance, and he added that it concerned an old college
chum of mine." He paused. "His name is Carl Bradley."
Rick's eyes met Scotty's.
"He said it was an urgent job, but that he would give me a few days to
think it over, to see if I couldn't rearrange my affairs in some way. I
assured him it was no use, that I couldn't possibly leave, but he said
to take until Saturday to consider it. That's tomorrow."
Rick whistled. "Some timing."
"It's a lot more than mere coincidence," Hartson Brant said. "But I
don't know any more about it than what I've told you."
"Who is Carl Bradley?" Weiss asked.
"I'm surprised you haven't heard of him, Julius. He has a considerable
reputation as an ethnologist. He and Paul Warren and I were in school
together. We lost track of him for a while, then he wrote from China. He
had spent several years inland, living with the Chinese, as one of them.
He produced some immensely valuable studies. Those, and his rather
remarkable ability to speak and act like a Chinese earned him the
nickname of 'Chinese Bradley.' He had lived most of his life since
school in one part of Asia or another. But I'm sure I can't guess what
his connection is with this special job of Steve's, or how he happened
to become Chahda's boss."
"Or why he's missing," Barby added.
The cable had created a mystery that demanded a solution, but no amount
of discussion answered the questions it raised. Finally, Mrs. Brant
broke up the debate by pointedly remarking on the lateness of the hour.
Reluctantly, the family started for bed.
As Rick undressed, he continued the discussion through the door
connecting his room and Scotty's. "Chahda's pretty sure we'll hurry to
Hong Kong."
"Is he wrong?" Scotty demanded.
"I don't know," Rick said. "It depends on a lot of things. We can't go
unless we get jobs, and Steve evidently didn't say anything to Dad about
the rest of the staff, including us."
"Dad hasn't even said he'll go," Scotty reminded.
"Doesn't saying he has reconsidered mean that he'll go?"
"Could be. Or maybe it just means he's willing to talk some more about
it. We should have pinned him down."
"We will," Rick said. "In the morning."
He lay awake for long hours, staring into the darkness and trying to
piece together Chahda's references to a golden mouse, a Chinese with a
glass eye, and a long shadow. It was no use. But there was no mistaking
the urgency of his friend's plea.
Where was Chahda now? At a guess, somewhere between Singapore and Hong
Kong. But whether by land or sea or air, Rick couldn't imagine. Nor
could he even venture a wild guess at what kind of danger Chahda faced.
After a long time he fell asleep, but it was fitful sleep broken by
frequent awakenings.
In the morning, the discussion resumed over breakfast, bringing forth
wild speculations from Barby. Rick had to grin at her flights of fancy.
"One thing seems sure," Scotty offered. "Chahda was in a big hurry."
"What makes you think so?" Mrs. Brant asked. "Barby! Please stop feeding
Dismal at the table."
Dismal turned beseeching eyes to Rick in a plea for moral support, but
his young master was listening to Scotty.
"The words he used. Like putting together an atomic symbol and Russian
money to make 'troubles,' and using 'umbra' instead of shadow. I'm sure
in a big book like _The World Almanac_ troubles and shadows are
mentioned somewhere. But he didn't have time to search. He took the
first possibilities that came along."
Rick nodded approval. "That figures. But why didn't he have time?"
Scotty shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe better."
Julius Weiss, who had tired of the discussion and started to the lab,
ran back into the house. "There's a plane heading this way," he
announced. "I'm sure it's coming here, because it's down pretty low."
The conversation ended abruptly. Rick and Scotty were first out on the
lawn. The engine noise of the plane was loud.
Rick saw it first, a sleek, four-place cabin job, circling wide out over
the water, losing altitude. In a few moments it banked sharply behind
the lab building, straightened out, and cut the gun. Rick was running
toward the end of the grass strip even before the plane settled smoothly
to the ground.
"Steve Ames," he said to himself. "I'll bet it is." The JANIG officer
had wasted no time!
Sure enough, Steve was the first out of the plane. Rick saw that he was
the only passenger. The pilot got out then, and Rick recognized him as
one of the JANIG operatives who had chased the Whispering Box gang
across Washington.
Steve and Rick shook hands, grinning at each other, then Rick greeted
Mike, the pilot.
"Didn't think we'd be needing Spindrift again so soon," Steve said. He
walked to meet the others and shook hands all around. "Let's get busy,"
he said to Hartson Brant.
Rick, Scotty, and Barby followed the two into the library. Mrs. Brant
took the pilot into the dining room for coffee while Professor Weiss
excused himself and went on to the laboratory. His apparent lack of
interest would have amazed anyone who didn't know him, but Rick knew
that when Julius Weiss was wrapped up in one of his theoretical math
problems, nothing else on earth could find room in his mind.
Steve looked at the scientist. "What caused you to reconsider?"
"This." Hartson Brant handed him the translation of Chahda's cable, then
the original. "We broke the code last night. It was a book code, using
_The World Almanac_. Chahda knew we'd be able to puzzle it out."
Steve scanned the number groups briefly. "Clever," he commented. He read
through the clear copy twice, and his jaw tightened. "This explains
something that has puzzled me."
"A good thing," Rick said. "Because all we got was the puzzlement. No
explanations."
Steve tapped the cable thoughtfully. "I hate to ask you to tackle this
job, but you must have some ideas about it or you wouldn't have sent
that wire."
Hartson Brant nodded. "I explained my situation to you on the phone when
you called a few days ago. The situation hasn't changed, but I must
admit this cable from Chahda puts a new light on the matter. That boy is
a member of the family."
"Then you'll go?"
"I don't want to, quite frankly. I will if there is no alternative. I
lost a lot of sleep last night making that decision. But first, I want
to propose that some member of my staff go in my stead."
Steve walked to the desk and perched on its edge. "Which one?"
"You know them all. You also know their specialties. Which of them would
fit your requirements best?"
"Zircon. He's a nuclear physicist."
Rick held his breath. Steve was continuing:
"Chahda urges Rick and Scotty to get jobs, too. I hadn't considered
that, but it's not a bad idea."
Rick closed his eyes and let out his breath in a sigh of relief. Scotty
nudged him.
Hartson Brant asked, "Then you will consider Zircon as my substitute?
Always on condition that he will go, of course."
Steve nodded. "I'd prefer you, but I'll take Zircon, if I can make a
condition of my own, and that is that you'll fly to the Far East on a
moment's notice if he and the boys can't handle it."
Rick looked at his father anxiously. Hartson Brant had not given his
permission for them to make a trip, but evidently it was all right. The
scientist nodded.
"I'll agree to that." He went to the telephone and picked up the
instrument. "Operator, I want to place a long-distance call."
Steve winked at the boys. Then, as Hartson Brant placed the call to
Zircon in New Haven, Connecticut, the JANIG man said, "Going to be a
couple of tourists at government expense, huh? Pretty soft."
"Maybe," Rick said, grinning. "That cable doesn't sound like anything
soft."
Steve got serious. "You two proved yourselves in Washington, so far as
I'm concerned. You can make yourselves useful, and you'll provide a good
cover for Zircon."
"What kind of cover?" Barby asked.
Steve smiled at her. "Women can't keep secrets, I'm told."
"I can," Barby retorted swiftly.
Steve held up his hand for silence. Hartson Brant had Zircon on the
line. The scientist outlined Steve's proposal in a few words, and gave
Zircon the contents of Chahda's cable. Then he listened to Zircon while
Rick fidgeted anxiously. Finally, Hartson Brant said, "All right,
Hobart. Tell your people up there that I'll take your lectures. We'll
see you later today." He hung up and nodded at Steve.
"Hobart had lectures scheduled for next week, but I can take them for
him. He'll be down this afternoon, and, he says, he'll be ready to leave
in the morning if necessary."
"Good!" Steve nodded at Barby. "Even if you can't go on the trip, you
can make yourself useful. Want to place a call to Washington for me?"
"Yes," Barby said eagerly. "Where to?"
Steve gave her the number. Then, while she was placing the call, he
said, "Now, I'll tell you what I know."
Rick's heart beat faster. Now he would learn what was behind Chahda's
cable!
"The day before I phoned here," Steve began, "my office received a
message from Carl Bradley. It was a top secret message sent to us via
the American consulate general's channels from Singapore. I'd better
explain first that Carl is a JANIG man. His knowledge of that part of
the world has made him invaluable, and he works for us secretly while
doing his routine work as an ethnologist. That is top secret information
that must never be repeated outside this room."
"You can depend on us," Hartson Brant assured him.
"I know it. To go on. His job is gathering information about persons who
show too much interest in operations within our embassies and
consulates. However, the cable we got from him wasn't quite in that
line."
Steve paused to see how Barby was getting along. She was trying to
listen to him and the operator at the same time.
"This cable," Steve continued, "said he had accidentally made a
discovery of something potentially dangerous to America. He asked for a
competent nuclear physicist, and he named you, Hartson, to be sent to
Singapore at once to check on his finding, and to locate, if possible,
the source of the stuff he had discovered. We haven't heard from him
since. From Chahda's cable, it's evident something has happened to him.
And on the basis of the cable, I think we'll send Zircon and you boys to
Hong Kong first."
Scotty put into words the question that was in Rick's mind. "What was it
that he discovered?"
Steve's lips tightened, then he said: "_Heavy water!_"