For about the next half-hour Clifford and Aub explained in detail the nature of their own work and its relevance to Morelli’s experiments. As they spoke, Morelli became excited. From his comments, there seemed little doubt what the outcome of the interview would be. By the end of the discussion Morelli was speculating on a whole new branch of science that might grow from the pioneering at the Sudbury Institute.
“In a way, I suppose you could say it’s analogous to what happened before,” he said, settling back in his chair once the serious talk was over.
“How do you mean?” Clifford asked.
“Well, take those guys in Europe around the beginning of the nineteenth century—Faraday and the rest—when they first worked out the connection between magnetism and electricity . . .” Morelli glanced from Clifford to Aub and explained: “Before then the only kind of magnetism that anybody knew about was the kind that occurred naturally—in certain types of rock, such as lodestone. Well, don’t you think we’re doing exactly the same kind of thing all over again, but with gravity?”
“You mean they couldn’t manufacture magnetism before then,” Aub replied. “They couldn’t turn it on and off or control it in any way. It was just . . . there.”
“Exactly.” Morelli nodded. “It was just there—inseparably tied up with a chunk of matter. If you wanted magnetism, you went out and you dug it up. There was no other way.” He paused and shifted his eyes toward Clifford. “But . . . when people started playing around with electrical currents and coils of wire and that kind of thing, they found they could make their own magnetic fields artificially, and they could then control them—make them bigger, smaller, turn them on and off at will. . . .” He threw his arms out wide. “And out of their work we got the whole science of electrical engineering—and later on electronics.”
“And you think this could go the same way?” Clifford followed what Morelli was saying but this was the first time that his mind had been fully opened to the long-range possibilities. Morelli’s enthusiasm for his work was irrepressible, his optimism, unbounded—which almost certainly explained how the project at Sudbury had advanced as far as it had without any firm theoretical understanding on the part of the researchers. It provided a stimulating contrast to the environment that Clifford had so recently left. He became aware suddenly of his keen desire to become part of ISF and of Morelli’s team. It wasn’t just the work that attracted him; he knew that here was something to which he could belong.
“Yes, I think it easily could,” Morelli told them. “Like I said, the analogy is pretty close. Gravity has always just been there—inseparably tied up with a chunk of mass, hasn’t it? We’ve only known it in its naturally occurring form; if you want gravity, go find a big mass. There’s no other way . . . or there hasn’t been up until now.”
“But now you can make your own artificially,” Aub completed.
“That’s right. We can make our own and we can control it . . . and we don’t need big bulky lumps of mass to do it either. We can do it in a lab and in a way that’s relatively easy to handle,” Morelli said. “To me that adds up to all the beginnings of a whole range of solid, down-to-earth engineering applications. How does that grab you guys? Interested?”
“Interested!” Aub turned to Clifford and back while he sought suitable words. “Just show me where I start.”
“I can’t add anything to that,” Clifford said. Morelli grinned and held up a restraining hand.
“I wish it was that easy too, but let’s wait and see how your interview goes. Peter’s the guy you have to convince now, not me.” He glanced at the clock on the wall opposite the desk. “In fact, we’ll have to make a move in a minute or two. But before we go, I’ll just tell you a bit about our latest experiments here—just to whet your appetites some more.” The sudden change in his tone hinted that he had saved the best until last. The other two became instantly attentive.