"I must go. It would be dangerous for us both if I am trapped here
when the veil closes. Just remember the billions of your men and the
constant attempt to penetrate the mind of any one of them. Even this
was sheer chance and it is failing--"
The sentience withdrew after a warning cry from the one on the outside.
The silken screen closed, joined, and flowed to the floor without scar.
Barden was once more alone, protected, isolated.
* * * * *
Three weeks. It took Barden three long weeks. He awoke after the
initial contact with the alien, and following the alien's advice,
considered the matter coolly. It might be true and it might be a dream,
but the fitfulness of his nature was gone. Barden then turned over and
entered the sleep of the just for nine hours. After this awakening, he
contemplated the dream and found it true.
Amazement at the accomplished fact was high, but the flood of knowledge
occupied Barden's attention. Things kept coming up out of the dark in
his mind that made little sense; other things were clear and sharp and
Barden wondered whether these had ever been tried on Terra. They seemed
so logical. Then as the days passed, these disconnected facts began to
match together. The matrix of knowledge became less broken as the days
went by, and--
At the end of three weeks, the sentience was proven correct. Thomas
Barden knew, and he knew that he knew the last detail of a new science.
His only problem was getting this science into operation before the
alien world could come--
He was all alone in this. No one on earth would believe his wild tale.
They'd lay it to a nightmare and offer him medical advice. If he
persisted, Thomas Barden would be writing his equations on the walls of
a padded cell with a blunt crayon when the alien horde came.
And to walk into the Solar Space Laboratory and tell them he had a
means of interstellar travel, complete with facts and figures would get
him the same reception as the Brothers Wright, Fulton, and a horde of
others. He would be politely shown the door and asked to go away and
not bother them with wildness.
If he had time, he could declare the discovery of a phenomenon and
offer it to the scientific world. Then step by step he could lead them
all in the final disclosures, or even after a few discoveries had been
turned over, he could act the part of a genius and force their hands by
making great strides. He had too little time.
If he were wealthy, he could set up his own laboratory and gain
recognition by proof. To go to work for another laboratory would
mean that he would be forced to do work that he felt unimportant for
sufficient a period to gain the confidence of his superiors. To be
his own boss in his own laboratory would mean that he would not be
required to follow other lines of research; he could do things that
would seem downright idiotic to those uninformed of the new science.
That plus the fact that not one of the large laboratories would care to
spend a small fortune on the cold predictions of a young unknown.
Thomas Barden wondered just how many men had found themselves hating
the everlasting Time and Money factors before. A fine future!
Barden pondered the problem for almost a week. That made a total of
four weeks since the incident.
Then came a partial solution. He was an associate member of the Terran
Physical Society. He could prepare a paper, purely theoretical in
nature, and disclosing the basis for the new science. It would be
treated with skepticism by most of the group, and such a wild-eyed idea
might even get him scorn.
Yet this was no time to think of Thomas Barden and what happened to
him. This was time to do something bold. For all the men of science who
would hear of his theory, a few of them might try. If they tried one
experiment, they would be convinced. Once convinced, he would be given
credit.
The paper could not be very long. A long paper would be thrown out
for divers reasons. A very short, terse paper might get by because it
would show the logical development of thought. The reviewing members
might think it sheer sophistry, but might allow it if for no other
reason than to show how sophistic reasoning could build up a complete
technology.
Barden began to make notes. A five-minute paper, packed with explosive
details. He selected this fact and that experiment, chosen for their
simplicity and their importance, and began to set them down.
His paper was ten pages long, filled with complex equations and terse
statements of the results of suggested experiments. He sent it in to
the reviewing board and then returned to his studies. For he would have
to wait again.
* * * * *
Barden faced the reviewing board exactly eight weeks after the dream.
By this time he was getting resigned to waiting. Also the hysteria
that made him want immediate action was beginning to die in the face
of logic. Obviously the alien culture was not on the verge of heading
Solward or the alien mind would have told him that fact. He did mention
that there was little time, but the alien would not have bothered if
imminent disaster threatened.
Barden believed that the alien was cognizant of the difficulties of
introducing a new science to a skeptical world--especially when done
by an unknown. Perhaps if the famed Dr. Edith Ward had received the
science, a word from her would have sent the men of all Terra, Venus
and Mars scurrying to make their own experiments. Of course, Dr. Ward
was head of the Solar Space Laboratory and could write high-priority
orders for anything short of complete utilization of Luna. She would
not require disclosure to have her theories recognized.
Tom Barden wished that she were a member of the reviewing board,
for then she might be directly interested. But he noted with some
satisfaction that the Laboratory was represented. He faced the chairman
confidently, though within him he was praying for a break.
"Mr. Barden," said the chairman, "you are not familiar with us.
Introductions are in order. From left to right, are Doctors Murdoch,
Harrison, and Jones. I am Edward Hansen, the chairman of this reviewing
board. Gentlemen, this is Thomas Barden. You have read his brochure?"
There was a nod of assent.
"We have called you to ask a few questions," said the chairman.
"Gladly," said Barden. At least they were considering it. And so long
as it was receiving consideration, it was far better than a complete
rejection.
"This is, I take it, an experiment in sheer semantic reasoning?"
"It is more than that," said Barden slowly. "Not only is the reasoning
logical when based upon the initial presumption, but I am firm in the
belief that the initial presumption is correct."
Dr. Murdoch laughed. "I hope you'll pardon me, Mr. Barden. I'm rude,
but it strikes me that you are somewhat similar to the prophet who
sneers at the short-range predictions and prefers to tell of things
that lie a hundred years in the future. By which I mean that testing
out any one of your theories here would require the expenditure of a
small fortune. The amount to be spent would be far in excess of any
practical laboratory's budget unless some return is expected."
"If the premise proves true, though," said Barden, "the returns would
be so great as to warrant any expenditure."
"Agreed," said Murdoch. "Agreed. Just show me proof."
"It is all there."
"Mathematical proof? The only proof of valid mathematics is in the
experimental data that agrees. And may I add that when experiment
and math do not agree, it is the math that gets changed. As witness
Galileo's results with the freely falling bodies."