Again Kotenko smiled. "That's what I told them, but medical men
sometimes get carried away with their importance in these emergencies."
Chandler tossed the blanket from his legs and stood up. "I feel fine,"
he said.
He led Kotenko down a makeshift aisle between the rows of injured. At
the front entrance, he was intercepted by Marta.
"Where do you think you're going?" she demanded.
"To the center."
"But--"
"No arguments. We've got a lot of work to do."
"You make it sound as though there's no time," she said.
"There's much less than most people think."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Kotenko.
Chandler hesitated. There was something filed away in the back of his
mind, but he knew he'd have difficulty explaining how he knew what he
knew.
"You saw the video tapes of Ottawa," he said. "Montreal will be next,
then Toronto, Chicago, Buffalo, Detroit, Toledo and, at the same time,
Norway, Sweden, Ireland and eventually all of northeastern Europe."
"Ah," the Russian grinned. "Excellent strategy. Set a deadline. Let
everyone know you are working against time and you'll have much less
opposition and much stronger backing."
"What sort of a deadline?" Marta asked Chandler.
"A month to test the feasibility, then one year to develop the drill."
"I can hardly wait to see the faces of the committee when we tell them
that," said Kotenko.
* * * * *
But Kotenko showed little interest in the surprised faces of the
committee when Chandler announced his deadline one month later in
Detroit. Chandler knew that it was another aspect of his report that
deeply concerned the Russian.
Marta supported Chandler's contention that the job could be done--and
in a year. She produced carefully detailed studies of non-conductive
metals that she had painstakingly prepared.
Finally it was Kotenko's turn.
"Yes, Dr. Chandler, with his rather remarkable mental resources, has
clearly shown that the drill can be produced by modern technology. And
I believe that Dr. Neilson--" he smiled at Marta--"can lead the way to
a system of non-conductive conduits to pump the heat anywhere it is
needed. Only the one hole with its inexhaustible supply of heat will be
necessary. On only one point do I disagree with Dr. Chandler."
Paul Chandler was doodling unconcernedly on the edge of his notepad.
"And that," continued Kotenko, "is on the need for the X-factor."
Dr. White demanded the floor and Chandler acknowledged him without
looking up from his notepad.
"For years," the Englishman said, "the Russian government has
steadfastly refused to agree to the use of the X-factor. I can
appreciate their feeling, since it was the X-factor that tipped the
scales in favor of the West during World War III."
"Tipped the scales?" Kotenko said. "I was a very young boy, but the
sight of the vaporized cities of Russia is burned into my memory."
"I believe I have the floor." Dr. White looked from one face to another
as he addressed his remarks to each delegate seated at the conference
table. "If we had been free to use the X-factor, we could now have
reached the stars with no need to concern ourselves with the time
barrier. Instead we are virtually confined to the barren planets of the
Solar System. Right here on our own planet, the X-factor could have
rebuilt the world almost overnight following the war."
"There is an ancient saying," Kotenko interrupted. "Those who play with
fire--"
"The time has come," Dr. White pushed on, "to reappraise our position
with regard to the X-factor capsules lying unused in the Swiss
stockpile."
"We are hardly in a position to act on that matter," said the delegate
from Greater Germany. "This is a matter for the Council itself."
Chandler tossed his pencil aside and stood up. "Nor is there any need
to get a decision at this moment. The drill--with or without the
capsule--will be basically the same. I'd like to see a motion for work
to proceed on the drill. The matter of the X-factor can be decided
later."
"I make such a motion," said the Canadian.
The motion was passed.
It was Marta who selected the site. She chose a grassy meadow in
northern Michigan that stood directly in the path of the advancing
glacier. But long before the first fingers of the glacier could search
out the site, searing billows of heat would spread like a spider web
across the mountain heights and northern reaches of North America, the
north Atlantic and northwestern Europe.
Only Marta's stubborn insistence that this was the most central
location had worn down a number of European delegates who had wanted
operations to begin on their side of the Atlantic.
Kotenko, with a green light from Chandler, ordered three long-abandoned
automotive plants into action in Michigan. Scientists and technicians
from many nations of the World Council were brought together in the old
General Motors Technical Center in Detroit. Plans were drawn, models
constructed and a test vehicle sent to the center of Saturn's moon,
Mimas.
* * * * *
Chandler carefully studied Kotenko's report of the Mimas probe, then
met with the Russian in the latter's office.
"I know why you're here," said Kotenko, offering Chandler a black
Russian cigar. "You must take into consideration that this was only a
scale model."
"But it had full power," Chandler argued.
"The initial descent was held to fifty miles an hour." Kotenko lit
Chandler's cigar. "A fast start and we would have done it with power to
spare. And remember that we haven't licked the heat problem. The test
drill was softened by friction heat."
"You still couldn't have made it to the center of Rhea, let alone to
the core of the Earth," Chandler said.
"It can be done," Kotenko insisted, "and without resorting to your
X-factor."
"I've requested a special meeting of the World Council together with
the committee to clear the way for using the X-factor."
"I'll oppose it. Since I am in full charge of constructing the drill,
my words will bear some weight."
"I doubt if you will object," Chandler said. "I've just received a
report from the State Department. They have good reason to believe that
your government will back the release of one capsule."
Kotenko stared at Chandler. Finally he rotated his cigar in his fingers
and studied the burning end. "Then I'll resign."
"No, you won't. Your government wouldn't permit it." He smiled at the
Russian. "And neither would I. You're too valuable a man."
Kotenko was still studying his cigar as Chandler left.
* * * * *
The X-factor capsule arrived under an international guard with the
blessings of slightly over half of the member nations. Kotenko didn't
resign, but his friendliness vanished.
That same day, Marta broke in on Chandler and, to the consternation of
his secretary, hugged him.
"We've done it!" she cried.
"Here, here, take it easy." He held her at arm's length. "All right,
what have we done?"
"Remember the things you said to me about slowing down the molecular
activity of metals?"
Chandler nodded.
"Well," she continued, "we've just had a major breakthrough in the
metallurgical lab, once you showed us the way. We can practically
remove all of the heat conductivity. In less than a month we can start
manufacture of the conduits."
Chandler smiled. The last obstacle was over.
"And more than that," Marta said, "we can build a test drill that will
go down into one of the big moons--one with a molten core."
"The next drill," said Chandler, "will be the _real_ thing to tap the
core of the Earth."
Marta kissed him.
The drill took less than the projected year to build. On the grassy
Michigan meadow, as several hundred dignitaries, reporters and curious
spectators in wind-whipped overcoats were held in check by armed
troops, the giant device was lowered toward a concrete basin. Sizzling
arc lights mounted on the control ring, a circular concrete building
surrounding the basin, illuminated the scene against the growing
darkness of night.
The Soviet press was lauding the drill as a Russian achievement. Most
Western papers gave the credit to Dr. Paul Chandler. But Chandler knew
it was Kotenko's idea, made possible by his own mental resources,
surprising even to himself.
Chandler felt a deep pride as he gazed at the drill, complete with the
controversial capsule.
* * * * *
"Excuse me, Dr. Chandler." A reporter with dry, unkempt hair stepped
up. "I still don't see how that thing will work."
"In simple words, the rock is drawn into the bottom something like air
into a jet engine," said Chandler. "The rock is vaporized and expelled
out the top where the vapor together with the device itself presses
the molten material into the walls of the shaft. Because the rock has
had its heat conductivity removed, it hardens and remains permanently
solid. A tubular force field keeps the shaft from collapsing."
"I understand that much." The reporter took out a folded square of
paper and a pencil. "But what makes the thing go?"
"It has a gravity drive, giving it many times its normal weight." Marta
Neilson had moved up to Chandler's elbow. "It simply sinks toward the
center of the Earth like a pebble sinking in a pond of water."
"What is your reaction to Senator Caldwell's remark that the
administration is at last returning all of the nation's gold into a
hole in the ground?"