Chapter II

"Mr. Nestor will see you now, sir," the secretary said. She smiled pleasantly at the tall, powerfully built, grey-eyed man. She began to wonder, as she noticed the expression about his eyes and mouth, just how successful Mr. Nestor would be in this interview. Mr. Nestor was usually successful in his interview, but there were little humorous crinkles around the big man's eyes, and graven lines of power and intelligence. But the jaw was powerful, the clean, square-cut lines of the face and the set of the head on broad powerful shoulders indicated determination. Most indicative of all, the lips were tight-pressed and they looked unpleasant. She mentally shrugged her shoulders, very pretty shoulders she knew they were too, and stood aside for him to pass.

"Ah, Dr. Warren, I'm glad to see you again," said the shrewd old man. The mechanical smile was intended to be winning. Ran Warren didn't like it. He didn't like Nestor for that matter, for it was Nestor, in his younger days, who had changed his career. Pressure here, influence there—and his father began to yield, for he had never had the determination and the power of will of his mother. Then—five big men, and one man, who was going to be big, jumped on him, and his holdings began to slide rapidly. But it made Nestor.

"What was it you wanted to see me about, sir?" asked Warren, attempting to come to the point.

"I have been wondering since I spoke so hurriedly in the Advisory Meeting, whether that idea of yours might not have been right. It really does seem strange to me that so serious a result could have followed a mere discharge in a tube. What do you believe caused the earthquake?" The keen, black eyes twinkled up at him like the eyes of a bird.

"Radiations, sir. I am certain no such power as would move the earth's crust was ever developed in those little electric motors that accumulated the discharge. I believe that that discharge started a release of the energy of matter, that the radiations were very largely of an extremely short wavelength, and that they penetrated the building readily. Certainly you know that all the photographic material in the laboratory was ruined, and some was at a considerable distance, behind walls. Suppose the radiations penetrated through the ground, and into the layers below. Eventually they would be absorbed. At whatever point they were absorbed, we would know there was water, for the laboratory was on made land. That water, converted to steam, would certainly have some such result. The radiations were so powerful in all probability that they passed through me, and the other humans without hindrance, and hence without result."

Nestor's eyes were bright. There was a calculating gleam behind them. "That's an interesting theory, and quite possible—if you really did succeed in smashing the atom."

"But I didn't. I destroyed it. It wasn't merely broken, it was annihilated, I believe."

"Matter cannot be destroyed, I thought?" said Nestor sharply.

"Apparently the others agreed with you. Were you going to reinstate me at the University?"

"I'm afraid that can't be done, Dr. Warren. But I was interested enough to ask you if you would like a job with my research staff. You could continue your experiments if you wished. I can offer you fifteen thousand a year."

A slow smile dawned on Warren's lips. "I'm afraid you are mistaken, Nestor. If you investigate the State files, you'll find there's a new firm—Putney and Warren, Research Engineers. I think you'll have to get someone else, so I'll say—goodbye."

Warren turned and strode out. Mr. Thaddeus Eustace Nestor looked after him with amazement. "What—hey—come back——" But Warren had already left. Nestor began to curse, then stopped abruptly. His plans had gone badly awry. He had intended to snap up Warren before anyone else could, and as Putney had suggested, get the benefit of this inconceivably important discovery. Now to his horror he discovered that not only was he unable to get it, but instead of getting it himself, Warren was to get the benefit. Had he left Warren in his position at the University he would at least have had an equal share in the discovery with all others, but now he certainly would not. There was just one answer.

He pressed a button, and presently the secretary appeared. "Send Mr. Williams over, Miss Oliver." The secretary retired, and called Mr. Robert Williams, head of the Nestor Research Laboratories.

Nestor Aircraft was only one of T. E. Nestor's holdings. The man had forward-looking ideas, and he had long since realized that research would pay an income as well as any other business, and the Laboratories were simply his invention factories. They handled all sorts of problems, and Mr. Williams was the head, and a physicist.

He appeared in a few minutes, and went into Nestor's soundproof office. "Well, what is it?"

"I told you Warren was coming? Well, he isn't. I made a mistake." Williams grinned broadly. The Old Man had made a mistake, and a bad one evidently. He didn't look happy, and Williams had been informed that morning that he was about to be made Assistant Director of Research, with Warren as Director. It hadn't appealed to him.

"A mistake? What was it?" he asked ironically.

"I got that blasted scientist loose from the University so he could come here—and what does he do? Does he thank me for it and come?—no! He's started a firm of his own! And Williams, get this; he's discovered how to annihilate matter!"

Williams started and looked at Nestor seriously. "How do you know?"

"Read about the explosion at the University three months ago? That was it. A tiny piece of iron wire, he said!"

"Where do I come in?"

"You're going to duplicate his apparatus, and better his record. I've already got track of a Sanderson tube."

"You're mistaken. I'm going to do nothing of the kind. Warren is the greatest atomic man in the world, and he always was a fool for luck. Remember the time Constanti tried to start his racket on the University and sent a bomb? It fell beside Warren, and turned out a dud. Well, I'm not superstitious, but if it killed one man and nearly killed him, then it's bad medicine for Mrs. Williams' little boy, Bobby.

"What do you know about the power he used, voltages, currents and so forth? Suppose that instead of the slow release that merely killed one and half killed another, besides causing an earthquake, we got a rapid release. Any idea what would happen? You could blow this old world clear across the solar system!"

"You won't handle it? Why not try it with just a little?"

"Little? 'There ain't no sich animile' as the hick said. If I worked under a microscope I'd still have enough to blow the whole city off the map! I know physics plenty good for my work, but I'm no second Warren. You know his latest work has been showing Einstein's mistakes. There's just one other man who might do it, and that's Jimmy Atkill."

"Atkill—he's a disreputable crook. They won't even publish his papers any more."

"Sure he's a crook—but they never proved he killed the old bird. He had some kind of a death ray, and they never proved he used it. Try and convince a jury of twelve good men and dumb, that a death ray they can't be shown did the job!

"He's a crook—but he's brilliant. Try him."

"All right. If you're afraid."

Williams grinned. "That's not a dig. That's not fear either, it's common sense. Want to play with matches in a dynamite plant? Want to come out and watch me work on that idea—when a piece, you can't see under a microscope, would blow the whole city off the map?" The physicist left.

Nestor took out a pocket chess set, and sat playing chess with various combinations and problems. Then, after nearly half an hour, he put his little set away and reached for the telephone.

"Miss Oliver, get the physicist, Dr. James Atkill, on my phone. I don't know where he is, nor in what city. Get him." Then he hung up and went back to his papers. It was nearly an hour before Miss Oliver announced that Dr. Atkill was on the wire.

"Dr. Atkill speaking; is that Mr. Nestor?"

"Yes. Where are you?"

"Detroit."

"Be here in an hour and I've got a big job for you. Hop by nearest plane, I'll give orders to send you right through. I'm in New York."

"I've got a good job here. What have you got, how long will it last, and how much?" was Dr. Atkill's response.

"Read about the earthquake at the University here three months ago? That was some of Warren's work. Destruction of the indestructible. That's all I can say over the telephone. The salary will be agreeable. Will you come?"

There was a soft whistle over the wire. "So my old friend Ran Warren has been shaking down buildings—and the indestructible has been destroyed. And why isn't Warren working on it?"

"Fool! He is. That's why I said hurry."

"Doesn't take much apparatus if he's working on it. He always was poor as the proverbial church mouse," chuckled Atkill.

"Doesn't it? Putney's backing him. Once and for all: Are you coming?" demanded Nestor irritably.

"On my way, gran'pa!" Nestor's face went red at this rejoinder from Dr. Atkill, and his close-cropped grey hair seemed to stand up stiffer than usual. He started to splutter into the microphone, but the instrument was mockingly dead.