He grinned. "I dreamed mine," he said. "Everything that I've produced
emanated from a dream." Then Barden embellished it thoroughly, knowing
that the flagrance of his embroidery would sound like a lie to anyone
who was really unaware of the truth. "I was invaded in a dream by a
gentleman who used a mechanical educator on me and taught me everything
that I've produced, everything that I've invented, and every advanced
theory that I've had. I have become a scientist of an alien culture
that I have full intention of making into a solar science."
"Then it is true," she breathed.
"What is true?" he demanded.
"Tom Barden, listen. Not only do I accept your apology of a few moments
ago, but I offer mine. I--was afraid. Just as you were afraid to let
the truth be known. I blustered and took my attitude because I could
not let it be known that I, head of the Solar Labs, could be influenced
by what the learned men would term either dream or hallucination."
"You've had one too?" he asked quietly.
She nodded.
Tom grunted. "Let's compare notes," he said. "Seems as how we got
different stories out of our friends."
Edith nodded again and said: "It was a strange dream that came to me
one night about a year and a half ago. I was the soul and master of a
mighty castle, an impregnable fortress with but five roadways entering.
Interpretation of that is simple, of course the five roadways were the
five senses. A ... messenger came, but instead of using any of the
roadways, he came through the very walls, and warned me."
"Just what was his story?" asked Barden.
"That Sol was a menace to a certain race. This race--never defined nor
located save that it was a stellar race--was incapable of conquering
Sol excepting by stealth. However it could be done by giving one smart
man a partial truth, and that it was more than probable that this would
be done. The partial truth was the technique of a new science that
would if not used properly, cause complete destruction of the system.
In the final usage, there would be a fission-reaction of whatever
planet it was used near. The reaction would create a planetary nova
and the almost-instantaneous explosion of the planet would wipe out
all life in the system and the counter bombardment of the sun by the
exploding planet would cause the sun itself to go nova, thus completing
the process."
"I presume your informant was quite concerned over the possible
destruction of a friendly race?"
"Certainly," she said. "That is why he contacted me."
"If I were a member of the conquer-all faction of my story, Miss Ward,
I would be trying to contact someone here to warn them of a terrible
danger if the science were exploited. That would delay our work long
enough for them to arrive, wouldn't it?"
"There is nothing so dangerous as a half-truth," said Edith Ward
flatly.
"Nor as dangerous as a little knowledge," agreed Barden. "However, Miss
Ward, my story is just as valid as yours. And since neither story may
be checked for veracity, how do you propose to proceed?"
"I think you'd better stop!"
* * * * *
Barden sat down on the edge of the desk and looked down at her. She was
sitting relaxed in the chair alongside, though it was only her body
that was relaxed. Her face was tense and her eyes were half-narrowed
as in deep concentration. Barden looked at her for a moment and then
smacked a fist into the palm of his hand.
"Look," he said, "that's apparently what your informant wants. Now as
to veracity, for every statement you make about the impossibility of
interpreting theoretical logic into a complete prediction of physical
phenomena without experimental evidence, I can state in your own words
that you can't tell anybody what the outcome will be. You want me to
stop. If my story is true, then Terra will have interstellar travel and
will meet this incoming race on its own terms. Either proposition is
O.K."
Edith Ward muttered something and Barden asked what she said.
"I said that I wondered how many men were too successful in mixing
nitroglycerine before they had one smart enough to mail the formula
to a friend--before he went up. I also wonder how many men tried Ben
Franklin's experiment with the kite and--really got electricity out
of the clouds and right through his body and was found slightly
electrocuted after the storm had blown over. Number three--novas often
occur in places where there seems to be no reason. Could they be
caused by races who have just discovered some new source of power? And
double-novas? A second race analyzing the burst and trying their own
idea out a few years later?"
"My dear young woman," said Barden, "your attitude belies your
position. You seem to be telling me not to advance in science. Yet you
yourself are head of the Solar Space Laboratory, an institution of
considerable renown that is dedicated to the idea of advancement in
science. Do you think that your outfit has a corner on brains--that no
one should experiment in any line that you do not approve?"
"You are accusing me of egomania," she retorted.
"That's what it sounds like."
"All right," she snapped. "You've given your views. I'll give mine.
You've shown reasons why both your informant and mine would tell their
stories in support of your own view. Now admit that I can do the same
thing!"
"O.K.," laughed Barden uproariously. "I admit it. So what?"
"So what!" she cried furiously. "You'll play with the future of an
entire stellar race by rushing in where angels fear to tread!"
"Careful, Miss Ward. Metaphorically, you've just termed me a fool and
yourself an angel."
"You are a fool!"
"O.K., lady, but you're no angel!"
"Mr. Barden," she said icily, "tossing insults will get us nowhere.
I've tried to give you my viewpoint. You've given me yours. Now--"
"We're at the same impasse we were a half hour ago. My viewpoint is as
valid as yours because there's nobody within a number of light-years
that can tell the truth of the matter. You are asking me to suppress a
new science. Leonardo Da Vinci was asked to suppress the submarine for
the good of the race. He did it so well that we know about the whole
affair."
"Meaning?"
"That true suppression would have covered the incident, too. But the
submarine was suppressed only until men developed techniques and
sciences that made undersea travel practical. If I suppress this
science, how long do you think it will be before it is started again by
someone else? How did either of our informants get the information?"
"Why ... ah--"
"By trying it themselves!" said Barden, banging a fist on the desk
for emphasis. "Suppression is strictly ostrich tactics, Miss Ward.
You can't avoid anything by hoping that if you don't admit it's there
it may go away. It never does. The way to live honorably and safely
is to meet every obstacle and every danger as it comes and by facing
them, learn how to control them. Shakespeare said that--'The slings and
arrows of outrageous fortune ... or nobler in the heart to take arms
against a sea of troubles ... and by facing them, to conquer them!'
That may be bum misquote, Miss Ward, but it is true."
"Then you intend to try it out?"
"I most certainly do!"
Edith Ward stood up. "I've nothing more to say. You force me to take
action."
"I'm sorry, Miss Ward. If it is battle you want, you'll get it. You'll
find it harder to quell Tom Barden The Successful than you found it
a year ago when you shut off Tom Barden The Theorist with a word of
scorn. I'm sorry--I really am."
"Sorry?" she repeated with disbelief.
"Sure," he said. "Barden Laboratories and Solar Labs could really go
places if we weren't fighting. Only one more thing, Miss Ward."
"What?" she replied impatiently.
"_Divide and conquer_ is not uniquely Terran!"
* * * * *
After she left, Barden wondered whether his final shot had hit
anything. He returned to work and forgot about it, sensibly admitting
that if it did he would not be bothered and if it did not he wouldn't
stop anyway, and so he might as well get to work. He rather hoped to
avoid the possible delay that would follow official action.
Dr. Edith Ward answered him within twenty-four hours. Her word was
accepted as valid in many places; had been the final authority on such
matters for some time. Up to now there had never been any defense. Plus
the fact that his side of the argument had never been voiced.
Barden didn't scourge the court for their decision. With only one
accredited side of the evidence in, they could but take action. So
Barden shrugged, grinned to himself, and spent several days in intense
study, laying out the program that was to continue in his absence. Then
he took the flier for the Terran Capital.
It was not a court hearing. It was more of a high-powered debate
before a group of qualified judges and investigators. Barden looked
into the background of his judges and was glad that the old system
of appointment to investigating committees had been stopped. Though
these men were not qualified physicists, they were not the old-line
politician, who took an arbitrary stand because he thought that waving
a banner with a certain device would sound good to his constituents.
There would be little personal opinion or personal ambition in this
hearing, and not one of the judges would sacrifice either contestant on
the altar of publicity.
By unspoken agreement, neither he nor Edith Ward mentioned the source
of their information. This Barden admitted was hard on the female
physicist's argument for she could claim only mathematical analysis and
he could claim experimental evidence.
They heard her side and then asked for his. He gave his arguments
simply and answered every point she brought up. There was rebuttal and
rejoinder and finally open discussion.
"I claim that this man is not a qualified physicist," she stated
firmly. "As such he has not the experience necessary to judge the
validity of my argument."
"I admit that I hold no degrees," said Barden. "Neither did Thomas
Edison. Is Miss Ward convinced that no man without a string of college
degrees is qualified to do anything but dig ditches?"
That hurt, for the investigators were not blessed with doctor's degrees
in philosophy; the scattering of LLDs were about half honorary degrees
and their owners though gratified for the honor knew how it was earned.
"Of course not," snapped Miss Ward. "I merely state--"
"If Miss Ward is so firm in her belief, why doesn't she bring forth
some experimental evidence. She has the entire holdings of the Solar
Space Laboratory at her disposal. If this is as important as she
claims, then the financial argument may be dispensed with. For no
amount of money is capable of paying for total destruction of the solar
system."
"I need no experiments," she snapped.
"Or is Miss Ward trying to tell us that any line of research that she
does not sponsor is not worth bothering with? Or is she trying to stop
me so that she can take up? Or has she started--late--and wants me
stopped before I get to the answer. That would make the famous Solar
Space Laboratory look slightly second-rate, wouldn't it."
* * * * *
"Gentlemen," cried Miss Ward facing the committee and ignoring Barden,
"his statements are invidious. He is accusing me of jealousy, personal
ambition, and egomania. This is not fair!"
"Miss Ward, I regret that you are not a man--or that I am not a
woman. Then we would have an even chance before a committee of our
contemporaries."
"Mr. Barden," she said in an icy voice, "I've been accused of flaunting
my sex every time a question is raised. I've also been told by many
that my position was gained in the same way. Just because I prefer to
be a physicist instead of some man's housekeeper, I am viewed with
suspicion, hatred, jealousy, and dislike. Well, Mr. Barden, you accuse
me of using my sex. It is as much a hindrance as an aid, because I find
that a woman has to be three times as good as the man in the same job
in order to get the same recognition. If she isn't, nobody trusts her
at all! Now," she said facing the committee, "I'll make my final plea.
I've had mathematical physicists at work for almost a year. They agree
with me. Thomas Barden has earned his position, I admit. But I still
claim that he is moving forward along an unknown road because he is
unable to make the necessary predictions. I've explained where this
road leads to, and the consequences of following it blindly. He must be
stopped!"
"Mathematics," said Barden, "and I quote Dr. Murdoch of the Board
of Review of the Terran Physical Society: 'And may I add that when
mathematics and experiment do not agree, it is the math that is
changed. As witness Galileo's experiments with the falling bodies.' No
one can make a certain prediction postulated on mathematics unless he
has cognizance of every term. Miss Ward, are you aware of every factor?"
"No but--"
"Then your mathematics is faulty. And your opinion is, therefore,
reduced to a personal opinion and not a scientific statement of
fact. I've heard that a physicist is a learned one who leaps from an
unfounded opinion to a foregone conclusion."
"You sound like an orator," snapped Edith Ward, "and orators seldom
follow full fact unless it enhances their point."
"I'm sorry that you have that opinion," said Barden. "However, Miss
Ward and gentlemen, regardless of what you do, of how you attempt to
restrain me, I shall pursue this matter to the bitter end. If you deny
me the right to work on Terra or any other solid body of the system, I
shall take my laboratory into space and then we shall have two space
laboratories--one of which will function in the medium for which it was
named!"
Barden nodded affably, turned, and left the room.
One of the committeemen smiled sardonically and said: "I think he has
just said, 'To Hell with us'!"
Another one nodded glumly and said: "Me, I think he's right. No one
can stand in the way of progress."
Edith Ward blazed. "Progress! Progress! Is destruction progress? Well,
if the ultimate goal of mankind is to go out in a blazing holocaust of
his own making, then this is true progress. One proper step toward the
final Gotterdammerung!"
The committeeman smiled at her tolerantly. "Twilight of the Gods, Miss
Ward? Oh come now, we aren't gods and I daresay that the universe will
continue to function without man's aid and abetment."
Edith Ward snorted through her patrician nose. "Correct," she snapped.
"But after we leave, who's here to care?"
* * * * *
Dr. Edith Ward was surprised by his arrival at the Solar Space
Laboratory. She didn't expect him. He had won his battle, and she knew
he was not the kind of man to gloat over a defeated enemy. Therefore
she reasoned that she might never see him again for certainly she would
not go to his place to see him--and eventually the whole system would
go up, triggered by the untrained hand of Thomas Barden.
Then to have him call--it bothered her. Why--?
He entered, carrying a small olive branch, and he smiled boyishly as he
handed it to her with a small bow.
"A truce," he suggested.
"There can be no truce," she said stonily. "It will either be you or me
that is shown right."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," he said with a smile. "Look, Miss Ward,
I've never disregarded the possibility that you might be correct. All
I've wanted was a chance to prove it instead of merely writing it off
on the grounds of possible danger. One never knows what will happen
until one tries. Therefore I wanted to continue. I've completed the
ship and it is awaiting a trial. Any time we're ready."
"Is this a last attempt at mollification--a salving of your somewhat
rusty conscience?"
"Not at all," he said. "I want you to go along with me as a qualified
observer."
"To observe what? Terra going up in flames?"
"Nope. Not necessary. The ship still retains its normal drive. We'll
take it out beyond the orbit of Pluto by a couple of billion miles and
let it go out there. I daresay that if you are correct, the fury of a
few hundred tons of spacecraft going up in sheer energy will not damage
the solar system much. Especially from that distance. Then if it does
run, we're also on our way to one of the nearby stars. Like?"
"Sounds reasonable."
"Certainly," he said. "Frankly I've considered that ever since you
mentioned the problem."
"I wonder if my informant considered it, too?" she said slowly.
"Probably."
"Then his warning was truly helpful."
"Iffen and providen again," he grinned. "But if he is so nicely
altruistic, why didn't he tell us how to get a real superspeed drive?"
"Maybe there is none."
"Then," said Barden, "why knock out a solar system that is so far away
that nothing it does can have any effect upon you?"
"A very valid point," said Edith Ward. Her eyes opened wide and her jaw
fell slack. "Goodness," she breathed.
"Are we?" he asked hollowly. His expression was one of wonder and
amazement.
"Well, if we win and it works, they've hazarded nothing and still have
their science. If we lose, they will not miss us in the first place
and also they'll quickly abandon that point."
"Guinea pigs," snorted Edith. She stood up and put one slim hand in
his. She gave it a hearty shake and a firm grasp. "I'm in--from right
now to the point where the whole cosmos goes up in a cloud of nuclear
particles! I'll be at your place in the morning with my case packed for
a six months' trip. Now I'm getting a whole case of feminine curiosity!"
"Yes?" he said cheerfully. "What, this time?"
"Well, if your informant was tossing us an experiment, hoping to get
an answer, then why did mine warn me? They'll never see a spaceship
burst at a distance of a half dozen light-years. They might never
really know."
"We'll find out," he said firmly. "There is something about both sides
that I do not like!"
* * * * *
True to her word, Edith Ward turned up at the first glimmer of daylight
with her case of personal belongings. "Where'll I have it put?" she
asked.
"Ship Two, Stateroom Three," he said. "I have two crates fixed up so
that if you're right, we can still get home without taking to the
lifecraft."
One hour later, the two ships lifted on their ordinary space drive and
sped with constant acceleration directly away from the sun. At three
times gravity they went, and as the seconds and the minutes and the
hours passed, their velocity mounted upward. In both ships, the men
worked quietly on their instruments, loafed noisily, and generally
killed time. Everything had been triply checked by the time that
turnover came, six days after the start. Then for six more days the
ships decelerated at three gravities while the sun dwindled in size.
Between Tom Barden and Edith Ward there was much talk, but no solution
to the problem. They covered nearly all aspects of the possibilities
and came up with the same result: Insufficient evidence to support any
postulate.
About the only thing that came to complete agreement was the statement
that there was more to this than was clear, and it was suspicious.
The feud that had existed faded away. It may have been the common
interest, or if you will, the common menace. For though no true menace
had shown, it was a common bond between Barden and Ward against a
question that annoyed them simultaneously. It may have been simply the
fact that man and woman find it hard to continue a dislike when they
have something in common. Nature seems to have made it so. It may have
been the thrill of adventure, prosaic as it was to be racing through
unchangeable space for hour upon hour and day upon day with nothing but
the sheerest of boredom outside of the ship. Perhaps it might have been
that the sight out of any window was exactly the same today as it was
yesterday and would be tomorrow or a hundred years from now--or even
a thousand, for though the stars do move in their separate paths, the
constellations are not materially different. The utter constancy of the
sky without may have turned them inward to seek the changing play of
personality.
Regardless of the reason, by the time they reached that unmarked
spot outside of the orbit of Pluto where the ships became close to
motionless with respect to Sol--there was no way of telling true
zero-relative motion and true zero was not important anyway--they were
friends.
The ships were rather closer together than they'd anticipated, and it
took only a couple of hours of juggling to bring them together. Then
the skeleton crew of the one was transferred to the other ship. It drew
away--and away and away.
"We've got more radio equipment aboard these crates than the
Interplanetary Network owns," grinned Barden. "Everything on the
darned crate is controlled and every meter, instrument, and ding-bat
aboard her will ship the answer back here. There must be a million
radio-controlled synchros aboard these ships, and cameras on both to
read every factor."
"That's fine," answered Edith with a smile. "What happens if it works
like a charm and takes off at superspeed? How do your radio-controlled
gadgets work then?"
"We'd lose the ship, of course, if we didn't have a time clock on
the drive. If all goes well, the first drive will run for exactly
ten seconds. Then we'll have about a ten-day flight to find it again
because it will be a long way from here--straight out!" He smiled. "Of
course, if we want to take a small chance, we could turn it on its own
primary drive and superspeed it back if all goes well. But the radio
controls will be as sluggish as the devil because there should be about
a three or four hour transmission delay."
* * * * *
The other ship was a minute speck in the distance. Then a ship-alarm
rang and the entire crew came to the alert. Barden said: "This is it!"
in a strained voice and he pulled the big switch.
Along the wall was the bank upon bank of synchrometers, reading every
possible factor in the controlled ship. Before the panel were trained
technicians, each with a desk full of controls. Behind them were the
directors with the master controls, and behind them stood Barden and
Edith Ward. From holes above peeked the lenses of cameras recording the
motions of every technician, and behind the entire group, more cameras
pointed at the vast master panel. The recorders took down every sound,
and the entire proceeding was synchronized by crystal-controlled clocks
running from a primary standard of frequency.
At the starting impulse, the warm-up time pilot lit and the relays
clicked as one, like a single, sharp chord of music. When the warm-up
period ended the pilot changed from red to green and another bank of
relays crashed home with a flowing roar, each tiny click adding to the
thunder of thousands of others like it.
"That's the end of the rattle," observed Barden. "From here on in we're
running on multi-circuit thyratrons."
The meter panel flashed along its entire length as the myriad of
Ready lights went on. The automatic starter began its cycle, and the
synchrometers on the vast panel began to indicate. Up climbed the
power, storing itself in the vast reservoir bit by bit like the slow,
inexorable winding of a mighty clock spring. Up it went, and the meters
moved just above the limit of perception, mounting and passing toward
the red mark that indicated the critical point.
As slow as their climb was, each meter hit the red mark at the same
instant.
There was a murmur of low voices as each technician gave his notes
to the recorders. No scribbling here, the voice itself with its
inflection, its ejaculation, and its personal opinion under stress
would be set down.