“I think he’s a plain nut, myself—that was a lulu he pulled yesterday. He seems to believe it himself, though. He got them to put that junk solution into the auction this noon and he and M. Reynolds Crane bid it in for ten cents.”
“M. Reynolds Crane?” DuQuesne managed to conceal his start of surprise. “Where does he come in on this?”
“Oh, he and Seaton have been buddy-buddy for a long time, you know. Probably humoring him. After they got the solution they called a cab and somebody said the address they gave the hackie was Crane’s, the other side Chevy Chase, but . . . oh, that’s my call—so long.”
As Scott left, DuQuesne strode over to his desk, a new expression, half of chagrin, half of admiration, on his face. He picked up his telephone and dialed a number.
“Brookings? DuQuesne speaking. I’ve got to see you as fast as I can get there. Can’t talk on the phone. . . . Yes, I’ll be right out.”
He left the Laboratory building and was soon in the private office of the head of the Washington, or “diplomatic,” branch of the immense World Steel Corporation.
“How do you do, Dr. DuQuesne,” Brookings said, as he seated his visitor. “You seem excited.”
“Not excited, but in a hurry. The biggest thing in history is just breaking and we’ve got to work fast if we want to land it. But before I start—have you any sneaking doubts that I know what I’m talking about?”
“Why, no, doctor, not the slightest. You are widely known; you have helped us in various de—in various matters.”
“Say it, Brookings. ‘Deals’ is right. This is going to be the biggest ever. It should be easy—one simple killing and an equally simple burglary—and won’t mean wholesale murder, like that tungsten job.”
“Oh, no, doctor, not murder. Accidents.”
“I call things by their .right names. I’m not squeamish. But what I’m here about is that Seaton, of our division, has discovered, more or less accidentally, total conversion atomic energy.”
“And that means?”
“To break it down to where you can understand it, it means a billion kilowatts per plant at a total amortized cost of approximately one one-hundredth of a mil per KW hour.”
“Huh?” A look of scornful disbelief settled on Brookings’ face.
“Sneer if you like. Your ignorance doesn’t change the facts and doesn’t hurt my feelings a bit. Call Chambers in and ask him what would happen if a man should liberate the total energy of a hundred pounds of copper in, say, ten micro-seconds.”
“Pardon me, doctor. I didn’t mean to insult you. I’ll call him in.”
Brookings called, and a man in white appeared. In response to the question he thought for a moment, then smiled.
” At a rough guess, it would blow the whole world into vapor and might blow it clear out of its orbit. However, you needn’t worry about anything like that happening, Mr. Brookings. It won t. It can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because only two nuclear reactions yield energy—fission and fusion. Very heavy elements fission; very light elements fuse; intermediate ones, such as copper, do neither. Any possible operation on the copper atom, such as splitting, must necessarily absorb vastly more energy than it produces. Is that all?”
“That’s all. Thanks.”
“You see?” Brookings said, when they were again alone, “Chambers is a good man, too, and he says it’s impossible.”
“As far as he knows, he’s right. I’d have said the same thing this morning. However, it has just been done.”
“How?”
DuQuesne repeated certain parts of Seaton’s story.
“But suppose the man is crazy? He could be, couldn’t he?”
“Yeah, he’s crazy—like a fox. If it were only Seaton, I might buy that; but nobody ever thought M. Reynolds Crane had any loose screws. With him backing Seaton you can bet your last dollar that Seaton showed him plenty of real stuff.” As a look of conviction appeared upon Brookings’ face DuQuesne went on. “Don’t you understand? The solution was government property and he had to do something to make everybody think it was worthless, so he could get title to it. It was a bold move—it would have been foolhardy in anyone else. The reason he got away with it is that he’s always been an open-faced talker, always telling everything he knows. He fooled me completely, and I’m not usually asleep out of bed.”
“What is your idea? Where do we come in?”
“You come in by getting that solution away from Seaton and Crane, and furnishing the money to develop the stuff and to build, under my direction, such a power plant as the world never saw before.”
“Why is it necessary to get that particular solution? Why not refine some more platinum wastes?”
“Not a chance. Chemists have been recovering platinum for a hundred years, and nothing like that was ever found before. The stuff, whatever it is, must have been present in some particular lot of platinum. They haven’t got all of it there is in the world, of course, but the chance of finding any without knowing exactly what to look for is extremely slight. Besides, we must have a monopoly on it—Crane would be satisfied with ten per cent net profit. No, we’ve got to get every milliliter of that solution and we’ve got to kill Seaton—he knows too much. I want to take a couple of your goons and attend to it tonight.”
Brookings thought for a minute, his face blandly empty of expression. Then he spoke.
.”I’m sorry, doctor, but we can’t do it. It’s too flagrant, too risky. Besides, we can afford to buy it from Seaton if, as, and when he proves it is worth anything.”
“Bah!” DuQuesne snorted. “Who do you think you’re kidding? Do you think I told you enough so that you can sidetrack me out of the deal? Get that idea out of your head—fast. There are only two men in the world who can handle it—R. B. Seaton and M. C. DuQuesne. Take your pick. Put anybody else on it—anybody else—and he’ll blow himself and his whole neighborhood out beyond the orbit of Mars.”
Brookings, caught flat-footed and half convinced of the truth of DuQuesne’s statements, still temporized.
“You’re very modest, DuQuesne.”
“Modesty gets a man praise, but I prefer cash. However, you ought to know by this time that what I say is true. And I’m in a hurry. The difficulty of getting hold of that solution is growing greater every minute and my price is rising every minute.”
“What is your price at the present minute?”
“Ten thousand dollars a month during development, five million cash when the first plant goes onto the line, and ten per cent of the net—on all plants—thereafter.”
“Oh, come, doctor, let’s be sensible. You don’t mean that.”
“I don’t say anything I don’t mean. I’ve done a lot of dirty work for you people and never got much of anything out of it—I couldn’t force you without exposing myself. But this time I’ve got you where the hair’s short and I’m going to collect. And you still can’t kill me—I’m not Ainsworth. Not only because you’ll have to have me, but because it’d still send all you big shots clear down to Perkins, to the chair, or up the river for life.”
“Please, DuQuesne, please don’t use such language!”
“Why not?” DuQuesne’s voice was cold and level. “What do a few lives amount to, as long as they’re not yours or mine? I can trust you, more or less, and you can trust me the same, because you know I can’t send you up without going with you. If that’s the way you want it, I’ll let you try it with-out me—you won’t get far. So decide, right now, whether you want me now, or later. If it’s later, the first two of those figures I gave you will be doubled.”
“We can’t do business on any such terms.” Brookings shook his head. “We can buy the power rights from Seaton for less.”
“You want it the hard way, eh?” DuQuesne sneered as he came to his feet. “Go ahead. Steal the solution. But don’t give your man much of it, not more than half a teaspoonful—I want as much as possible of it left. Set up the laboratory a hundred miles from anywhere—not that I give a damn how many people you kill, but I don’t want to go along—and caution whoever does the work to use very small quantities of copper. Good-bye.”
As the door closed behind the cynical scientist, Brookings took a small instrument, very like a watch, from his pocket, touched a button, raised it to his lips, and spoke. “Perkins.”
“Yes, sir.”
“M. Reynolds Crane has in or around his house somewhere a small bottle of solution.”
“Yes, sir. Can you describe it?”
“Not exactly.” Brookings went on to tell his minion all he knew about the matter. “If the bottle were only partly emptied and filled up with water, I don’t believe anybody would notice the difference.”