Frost expressed surprise. How could so much be done so fast? Were the time rates different? Had Helen and Igor crossed over many weeks before, figured along this axis?
No, he was told, but Igor’s countrymen, though lacking many earth techniques, were far ahead of earth in manufacturing skill. They used a single general type of machine to manufacture almost anything. They fed into it a plan which Igor called for want of a better term the blueprints-it was in fact, a careful scale model of the device to be manufactured; the machine retooled itself and produced the artifact. One of them was, at that moment, moulding the bodies of fighting planes out of plastic, all in one piece and in one operation.
“We are going to arm these jobs with both the stasis ray and rockets,” said Igor. “Freeze ’em and then shoot the damn things down while they are out of control.”
They talked a few minutes, but Frost could see that Igor was getting fidgety. He guessed the reason. and asked to be excused. Igor seized on the suggestion. “We will see you a little later,” he said with relief. “I’ll have some one dig up quarters for you. We are pretty rushed. War work-I know you’ll understand.”
Frost fell asleep that night planning how he could help his two young friends, and their friends, in their struggle.
But it did not work out that way. His education had been academic rather than practical; he discovered that the reference books which Igor and Helen had brought along were so much Greek to him — worse, for he understood Greek. He was accorded all honor and a comfortable living because of Igor’s affirmation that he had been the indispensable agent whereby this planet had received the invaluable new weapons, but he soon realized that for the job at hand he was useless, not even fit to act as an interpreter.
He was a harmless nuisance, a pensioner-and he knew it.
And underground life got on his nerves. The ever present light bothered him. He had an unreasoned fear of radioactivity, born of ignorance, and Igor’s reassurances did not stifle the fear. The war depressed him. He was not temperamentally cut out to stand up under the nervous tension of war. His helplessness to aid in the war effort, his lack of companionship, and his idleness all worked to increase the malaise.
He wandered into Igor and Helen’s workroom one day, hoping for a moment’s chat, if they were not too busy. They were not. Igor was pacing up and down, Helen followed them with worried eyes.
He cleared his throat –“Uh-I say, something the matter?”
Igor nodded, answered, “Quite a lot,” and dropped back into his preoccupation.
“It’s like this,” said Helen. “In spite of the new weapons, things are still going against us. Igor is trying to figure out what to try next.”
“Oh, I see. Sorry.” He started to leave.
“Don’t go. Sit down.” He did so, and started mulling the matter over in his mind. It was annoying, very annoying!
“I’m afraid I’m not much use to you.” he said at last to Helen. “Too bad Howard Jenkins isn’t here.”
“I don’t suppose it matters,” she answered, “We have the cream of modern earth engineering in these books.”
“I don’t mean that. I mean Howard himself, as he is where he’s gone. They had a little gadget there in the future called a blaster. I gathered that it was a very powerful weapon indeed.”
Igor caught some of this and whirled around. “What was it? How did it work?”
“Why, really,” said Frost, “I can’t say. I’m not up on such things, you know. I gathered that it was sort of a disintegrating ray.”
“Can you sketch it? Think, man, think!”
Frost tried. Presently he stopped and said, “I’m afraid this isn’t any good. I don’t remember clearly and anyhow I don’t know anything about the inside of it.”
Igor sighed, sat down, and ran his hand through his hair.
After some minutes of gloomy silence, Helen said, “Couldn’t we go get it?”
“Eh? How’s that? How would you find him?”
“Could you find him. Professor?”