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Authors: Christopher Anvil

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Prescription for Chaos (32 page)

BOOK: Prescription for Chaos
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"Okay," murmured Benning, "I think this room is safe enough, but if they
have
got anything in here, they're welcome to try and filter it out from this mess. You did see what we've got, plainly enough, back in your office?"

"I saw it. But did you see what we're going to run into when we try to convince Grossrad?"

"He couldn't be so stupid he wouldn't catch on to this."

"That's not the point. He says new gadgets aren't
wanted
. This means somebody higher up figures we've now settled down to a nice international stalemate, with us ahead of the opposition. This device, it strikes me, is going to make a lot of expensive equipment obsolete in a hurry."

"You're not just kidding. With this, we could put a man on the moon in a few weeks, not years from now. And that's just the start."

"What the Sam Hill is it, anyway?"

Benning frowned. "Did you ever hear the comparison of gravitational fields with the bending of frictionless surfaces?"

"I think I know what you mean. If you had a flat frictionless surface, flexible enough to bend when objects were placed on it, and if this whole frictionless surface were accelerating uniformly at right angles to the plane of the surface—"

Benning nodded. "That's it."

Heyden went on. "If you had such a frictionless surface, an object would slide across it in a straight line until it neared another object, when the dip in the surface caused by these objects would pull them toward each other. There would be, apparently, a 'gravitational field' around each object, the strength of the 'field' depending on the mass of the object."

"Exactly. This would cause the effect of attraction. Now, how would you create
repulsion
?"

"Well—" Heyden frowned. "There would have to be a hill—a ridge, or rise, in the frictionless surface. You could do it only if the surface had some other property—if it were made of the right metal, for instance, you could position magnets toward the stern of a properly shaped object resting on the surface, and this might create enough slope to cause the object to slide forward."

Benning was nodding and smiling broadly. "That's one idea. And how much power would it take?"

"It would depend on the properties of the surface."

"Yes. Well, we started this project without much hope that there was any physical counterpart to this comparison. But after tracking down some previously unexplained discrepancies, we found it. The effect can be made comparatively large, the power consumption is small, and by proper manipulation, we can create either a positive or negative deflection of the 'surface'. The result is, we've got a space drive."

Heyden sat back, and thought it over. "This just
could
be a nightmare. How complicated is it?"

"Mathematically, it's very complicated. Physically, it's not bad."

"This might make life very exasperating for everybody concerned with it."

Benning frowned. "Of course, it's bound to be highly classified. They'll doubtless bury it under a ton of regulations, but—Oh." Benning was silent. "Naturally,
we
discovered it. We shouldn't be running around at loose ends, ready to spill the works in the nearest bar."

"Naturally. That's one aspect. But there are others. Now, how much leverage do you get with this thing? How much advantage over a rocket, for instance?"

"Agh. Ye gods, a rocket."

"Could it beat a rocket for
speed
?"

"Easy. Weight for weight—I mean weight at rest with the device turned off—there's no comparison."

"How about for lifting a payload?"

"There's still no comparison. You don't have to lift a lot of cargo you're just going to fire out the tail end anyway."

"Could you put a warhead in one of these and hit within five miles a thousand miles away?"

Benning hesitated. "Not yet."

"But eventually?"

After a long silence, Benning said, "For accuracy, used as a missile power source, I fail to see any advantage in this. But you could knock one of your opponent's missiles off course with it. You might even smash it up in mid-air."

"How would you do that?"

"Make one big enough, with enough power back of it, make a strong enough mount and screw the thing down to a solid base—What do you think you've got? It's a tractor-repulsor unit. You can make a steep 'hill' in the 'frictionless surface' the missile is sliding along. What does that interpret as in physical reality? A violent repulsion. Then you can make a trough. Subject anything to sudden yanks and shoves, and what happens to it?"

Heyden nodded slowly.

Benning said, "Didn't I see you pick up Grossrad's note before we left?"

"Yes, you want it?"

"I'd like to look it over again."

Heyden felt through his pockets, and handed the note to Benning. Benning read the note amidst gales of hurrying girlish laughter that grew loud and faded, with male curses, mumbling, a variety of audible conversations, and a weird varying note in the background.

Benning grunted and looked up. "He sure doesn't leave any doubt about this 'no new advances wanted at this time'."

Heyden nodded. "That's what bothers me."

"But," said Benning, "Any good business man can see the potential in this."

"What potential? Where's the profit in something you can never put on the market because it's sure to be classified?"

"Well, the defense contracts, then."

Heyden shook his head gloomily. "Remember: 'we are now so far ahead of the international competition, defensewise, that no large new government orders can be expected.'"

Benning said angrily, "Can't you convince that guy—"

"Probably, but so what? Grossrad doesn't write contracts with himself. Suppose I convince him? Then he's got to convince somebody else. That guy has to convince the next one. At some point in there, someone conceivably may have to convince the defense secretary, and
he
may have to convince Congress. This is assuming it goes through all those offices and ever comes out again. Each of those guys is going to be hard to convince, precisely because he knows how hard it's going to be to convince the next man. Meanwhile, all we can do is chew our nails and wait for their decision."

Benning said, "While we're waiting, what if somebody else, say in some foreign laboratory, maybe even where they've got pictures of Big Brother hanging on the wall—What if they should come up with this?"

"Is that conceivable?"

"Sure, it's conceivable. I told you, physically, this thing is not too bad." He frowned. "Well, what then?"

Heyden frowned. "As soon as they make it public, count on us to get a contract so big we couldn't fill it if we were General Motors, U.S. Steel, and A.T. and T. combined. We'll have to kidnap every scientist and technician we can lay our hands on."

Benning said angrily, "We're missing something here. What if they don't make it public? What if they quietly build up a fleet of these things while we're sitting around waiting for the go-ahead? They could seal off outer space so tight we'd never get out there." An intense look appeared on Benning's face. "Think, Jim—what if they're building them
right now
?"

Heyden blinked, gave an irritated wave of his hand as if to dismiss the thought, then frowned. "How hard is it to make these things?"

"I've
told
you. The actual physical construction isn't too bad, once you know what to do."

There was a long period in which neither man said anything. Then Heyden said slowly, "You said, 'With this, we could put a man on the moon
in a few weeks
.' Did you mean that literally?"

Benning nodded. "Remember all the research that's already been done. Think of the problems we
don't
have, because the drive is no worry. Think how we're set up here. Sure, in three weeks, we could put a man on the moon."

"Could you mount the drive so it could also be used as a weapon?"

"Yes. And, for that matter, a smaller one could serve as an auxiliary weapon in flight, if you wanted. But it would take money."

Heyden thought it over, then grinned. "If Grossrad's going to have his Kiddie Kits ready in time, he's going to have to give us money."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, I'm serious. This is the biggest technological advance in history."

Benning was wide eyed. "And what you're thinking of making is a full-size spaceship—good enough for an
actual expedition
?"

"That's exactly what I want—if we can make such a thing. No trim. No flimflam. Just let it work."

Benning seemed to lose some enthusiasm. "This is risky."

Heyden nodded. "You bet your life, it's risky. If Grossrad gets wind of it I'll be hung from the rafters. But never mind that. Are you sure you can
do
it?"

"Of course I'm sure." Benning frowned. "Right now we can do this better than Kiddie Kits. A month from now, if we follow Grossrad's letter, it'll be a different story. But—"

"Then this may be the only chance our side gets. We'd better take it."

Benning drew a deep shaky breath. "Okay."

 

IV

The next two weeks passed in a blur of desperate activity that left Heyden no time to think of anything but the problem immediately in front of him. Benning's remark that a man could be put on the moon in a few weeks turned out to be a little optimistic.

Benning said exasperatedly, "I didn't figure in all that life-support stuff. So far as the drive is concerned, that's what I meant."

Heyden said angrily, "We could have put a corpse on the moon a long time ago."

"I'm sorry," said Benning. "We're coming fast, anyway. Thank heaven the thing is basically simple."

Before them loomed a big black shape like an overgrown boiler. It had all the sophistication of a sledge-hammer, but Benning insisted it could take off inside a week.

"You see," he said, "the only real problem with the drive is durability under stress. Theoretically, we could use that demonstration model I showed you. The trouble is that in practice if the drive-unit is too small, it will crush."

"That's nice. But we've got around that, have we?"

"Yes."

Heyden eyed the looming black boiler shape. "We don't want to get out there and get cooked."

"The other side shades from black into a pure reflective coating."

"How do we see out of it? In addition to the radar, which may fail on us?"

"There's a window in the end. Also, we're practicing with a light-weight kind of drive-unit. We figure we can use that as a sort of detector."

"How does it work?"

"To create a given negative bending or warping where there's a physical object present takes more power than where there isn't. Set things up right, and you can read the mass of the given object off a meter."

"How about the distance?"

"The reading drops in front and behind the object. There's no problem there."

Heyden stared at the looming shape and nodded slowly. He had no clear idea
why
there was no problem there; but there was nothing to do but take Benning's word for it, and hope things would turn out. He turned to make a final comment, then paused.

A bulky overalled form had just ducked out the door of the boiler-shape, and now, scowling deeply, pushed through a knot of people standing just outside. Carrying a flimsy sheet of yellow paper, he headed straight for Benning, and immediately got down to brass tacks.

"That inside-drive idea won't work. If we try that, we're going to swivel that drive around, stress the walls, and crack the window on the end. That leaves us with an air-leak. That drive has to go
outside
."

"That's insane," said Benning angrily. "With that size unit, the whole ship's inside the distortion."

"Maybe, but there's a fringe effect."

"We're inside it."

"We are? Look at this."

Benning took the paper. "Well . . . this is just a freakish—"

"Maybe it doesn't last long, but what's it going to do to that window?"

"Yes, but if we put it outside, it will
still—
"

"Not if we have it on a boom. That puts us outside that gradient."

Benning stared at him. "How long a boom?"

"About two hundred feet should do it."

"Two
hundred—
"

"Unless you can breathe vacuum, that's where it's got to go, if we make it that size."

Benning was staring at the flimsy sheet of paper as there came the sound of a feminine throat-clearing to Heyden's right. He glanced around to see his secretary holding out a special-delivery letter. Leaving Benning to deal with the technical problem, Heyden headed back to his office, and read the handwritten letter:

 
Jim—
Well, boy, we've got the merger, but doing business with this outfit really puts your wallet through the wringer. I hope you're coming along fine with the Kiddie Kits. We'll need every cent we can scrape up, so pare expenses to the bone, and shave everything just as fine as you can. We're going to have to cut down more than I expected on the scientific talent, and I just hope we can pick them up again when we need them.
I know how this Kiddie Kit business must strike you after the stuff we've been working on, but when the oasis gets this dry, there's nothing to do but fold your tents and move on. Nothing we could produce, no matter how advanced, would get a really sympathetic hearing right now.
I don't mean to dwell on this, Jim. I know we can count on you all the way, even if it is a let-down. I keep harping on it because I think this toy business is going to make the difference, one way or the other. It's hard to believe, I know, but there it is.
Ed and I are both totally worn out. There are some things that you have to do in business that aren't very business-like, but there's no time to argue about that. You either do them or get kicked in the head, and somebody else walks off with the prize.
I must be more worn-out than I realized to go on like this. Well, here's to the merger, and stick to those Kiddie Kits. You don't know what it means to know we've got somebody back there we can count on.
We'll see you in a week, Jim.

BOOK: Prescription for Chaos
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