On the thirty-ninth floor of a large New York apartment two young men
were lounging about after a strenuous game of tennis. The blue tendrils
of smoke from their pipes rose slowly, to be drawn away by the efficient
ventilating system. The taller of the two seemed to be doing most of the
talking. In the positions they had assumed it would have been rather
difficult to be sure of which was the taller, but Robert Morey was a
good four inches taller than Richard Arcot. Arcot had to suffer under
the stigma of "runt" with Morey around--he was only six feet tall.
The chosen occupation of each was physical research, and in that field
Arcot could well have called Morey "runt", for Arcot had only one
competitor--his father. In this case it had been "like father, like
son". For many years Robert Arcot had been known as the greatest
American physicist, and probably the world's greatest. More recently he
had been known as the father of the world's greatest physicist. Arcot
junior was probably one of the most brilliant men the world had ever
seen, and he was aided in all his work by two men who could help him in
a way that amplified his powers a thousand fold. His father and his best
friend, Morey, were the complimentary and balancing minds to his great
intelligence. His father had learned through years of work the easiest
and best ways of performing the many difficult feats of laboratory
experimentation. Morey could develop the mathematical theory of a
hypothesis far more readily than Arcot could. Morey's mind was more
methodical and exact than Arcot's, but Arcot could grasp the broad
details of a problem and get the general method of solution developed
with a speed that made it utterly impossible for his friend even to
follow the steps he suggested.
Since Arcot junior's invention of the multiple calculus, many new
ramifications of old theories had been attained, and many developments
had become possible.
But the factor that made Arcot so amazingly successful in his line of
work was his ability to see practical uses for things, an ability that
is unfortunately lacking in so many great physicists. Had he collected
the royalties his inventions merited, he would have been a billionaire
twice or thrice over. Instead he had made contracts on the basis that
the laboratories he owned be kept in condition, and that he be paid a
salary that should be whatever he happened to need. Since he had sold
all his inventions to Transcontinental Airways, he had been able to
devote all his time to science, leaving them to manage his finances.
Perhaps it was the fact that he did sell these inventions to
Transcontinental that made these lines so successful; but at any rate,
President Arthur Morey was duly grateful, and when his son was able to
enter the laboratories he was as delighted as Arcot.
The two had become boon companions. They worked, played, lived, and
thought together.
Just now they were talking about the Pirate. This was the seventh day of
his discovery, and he had been growing steadily more menacing. It was
the great Transcontinental Airways that had suffered most repeatedly.
Sometimes it was the San Francisco Flyer that went on without a pilot,
sometimes the New York-St. Louis expresses that would come over the
field broadcasting the emergency signal. But always the people were
revived with little difficulty, and each time more of the stock of
"Piracy, Inc." was accumulated. The Air Guard seemed helpless. Time and
time again the Pirate slipped in undetected. Each time he convinced
them that it was an outside job, for the door was always sealed from the
outside.
"Dick, how do you suppose he gets away with the things he does right
under the eyes of those Air Guardsmen? He must have some system; he does
it every time."
"I have a vague idea," Arcot answered. "I was going to ask you today, if
your father would let us take passage on the next liner carrying any
money. I understand the insurance rates have been boosted so high that
they don't dare to send any cash by air any more. They've resorted to
the slow land routes. Is there any money shipment in sight?"
Morey shook his head. "No, but I have something that's just as good, if
not better, for our purpose. The other day several men came into Dad's
office, to charter a plane to San Francisco, and Dad naturally wondered
why they had been referred to the president of the company. It seems the
difficulty was that they wanted to hire the ship so they could be
robbed! A large group of medical men and cancer victims were going for
the 'treatment'. Each one of the twenty-five hundred going was to bring
along one hundred dollars. That meant a total of a quarter of a million
dollars, which is to be left on the table. They hoped the Pirate would
gas them and thus cure them! Dad couldn't officially do this, but told
them that if there were too many people for the San Francisco express,
two sections would be necessary. I believe they are going on that second
section. Only one hundred dollars! A low price for cancer cure!
"Another thing: Dad asked me to tell you that he'd appreciate your help
in stopping this ultra-modern pirate. If you go down to see him in the
morning, you'll doubtless be able to make the necessary arrangements."
"I'll do so gladly. I wonder, though, if you know more about this than I
do. Did they try that C-32L mask on an animal?"
"The Pirate was telling the truth. They tried it on a dog and he went to
sleep forever. But do you have any idea how that gas does all it does?"
Now Arcot shook his head. "I don't know what the gas is, but have a lead
on how it works. You may know that carbon monoxide will seep through a
solid plate of red-hot steel. That has been known for some three hundred
years now, and I have to hand it to this Pirate for making use of it.
Even in the war of 2075 they didn't find any practical application for
the principle. He has just found some gas that induces sleep in very low
concentrations, and at the same time is able to penetrate to an even
greater extent than carbon monoxide."
"I was wondering how he stores that stuff," Morey commented. "But I
suppose he makes it as fast as he uses it, by allowing two or more
constituents to react. It might well be simple enough to store them
separately, and the air-stream blowing past him would carry the gas
behind him, permitting him to lay a stream of it in front of the big
plane. Is that about it?"
"That was about what I had figured. One of the things I want to do when
I go with that Invalid Special tomorrow is to get some samples for
analysis."
"That's a pretty big order, isn't it, Dick? How are you going to handle
it, or even get it into your apparatus?"
"Easily enough as far as getting the sample goes. I have already had
some sample bottles made. I have one of them in the lab--excuse me a
moment." Arcot left the room, to return a few minutes later with a large
aluminum bottle, tightly closed. "This bottle has been pumped out to a
very good vacuum. I then swept it out with helium gas. Then it was
pumped out again. I hope to take this into some gas-filled region, where
the gas will be able to leak in, but the air won't. When it comes to
going out again, the gas will have to fight air pressure, and will
probably stay in."
"Hope it works. It would help if we knew what we were bucking."
* * * * *
The next morning Arcot had a long conference with President Morey. At
the end of it, he left the office, ascended to the roof, and climbed
into his small helicopter. He rose to the local traffic level, and
waiting his chance, broke into the stream of planes bound for the great
airfields over in the Jersey district. A few minutes later he landed on
the roof of the Transcontinental Airways shops, entered them, and went
to the office of the Designing Engineer, John Fuller, an old schoolmate.
They had been able to help each other before, for Fuller had not paid as
much attention to theoretical physics as he might have, and though he
was probably one of the outstanding aeronautical designers, he often
consulted Arcot on the few theoretical details that he needed. Probably
it was Arcot who derived the greatest benefit from this association, for
the ability of the designer had many times brought his theoretical
successes to practical commercial production. Now, however, he was
consulting Fuller, because the plane he was to take that afternoon for
San Francisco was to be slightly changed for him.
He stayed in Fuller's office for the better part of an hour, then
returned to the roof and thence to his own roof, where Morey junior was
waiting for him.
"Hello, Dick! I heard from Dad that you were going this afternoon, and
came over here. I got your note and I have the things fixed up here. The
plane leaves at one, and it's ten-thirty now. Let's eat lunch and then
start."
It was half-past eleven when they reached the flying field. They went
directly to the private office which had been assigned to them aboard
the huge plane. It was right next to the mail-room, and through the wall
between the two a small hole had been cut. Directly beneath this hole
was a table, on which the two men now set up a small moving picture
camera they had brought with them.
"How many of the gas sample bottles did you bring, Bob?" asked Arcot.
"Jackson had only four ready, so I brought those. I think that will be
enough. Have we got that camera properly placed?"
"Everything's O.K., I believe. Nothing to do now but wait."
Time passed--then they heard a faint whir; the ventilator machinery had
started. This drew air in from outside, and pumped it up to the
necessary pressure for breathing in the ship, no matter what the
external pressure might be. There was a larger pump attached similarly
to each of the engines to supply it with the necessary oxygen. Any loss
in power by pumping the air in was made up by the lower back pressure on
the exhaust. Now the engines were starting--they could feel the
momentary vibration--vibration that would cease as they got under way.
They could visualize the airtight door being closed; the portable
elevator backing off, returning to the field house.