Steel Becomes Interested

: The Skylark Of Space

Dr. Marc DuQuesne was in his laboratory, engaged in a research upon

certain of the rare metals, particularly in regard to their

electrochemical properties. He was a striking figure. Well over six feet

tall, unusually broad-shouldered even for his height, he was plainly a

man of enormous physical strength. His thick, slightly wavy hair was

black. His eyes, only a trifle lighter in shade, were surmounted by

heavy black e ebrows which grew together above his aquiline nose.



Scott strolled into the room, finding DuQuesne leaning over a delicate

electrical instrument, his forbidding but handsome face strangely

illuminated by the ghastly glare of his mercury-vapor arcs.



"Hello, Blackie," Scott began. "I thought it was Seaton in here at

first. A fellow has to see your faces to tell you two apart. Speaking of

Seaton, d'you think that he's quite right?"



"I should say, off-hand, that he was a little out of control last night

and this morning," replied DuQuesne, manipulating connections with his

long, muscular fingers. "I don't think that he's insane, and I don't

believe that he dopes--probably overwork and nervous strain. He'll be

all right in a day or two."



"I think he's a plain nut, myself. That sure was a wild yarn he sprung

on us, wasn't it? His imagination was hitting on all twelve, that's

sure. He seems to believe it himself, though, in spite of making a flat

failure of his demonstration to us this morning. He saved that waste

solution he was working on--what was left of that carboy of platinum

residues after he had recovered all the values, you know--and got them

to put it up at auction this noon. He resigned from the Bureau, and he

and M. Reynolds Crane, that millionaire friend of his, bid it in for ten

cents."



"M. Reynolds Crane?" DuQuesne concealed a start of surprise. "Where does

he come in on this?"



"Oh, they're always together in everything. They've been thicker than

Damon and Pythias for a long time. They play tennis together--they're

doubles champions of the District, you know--and all kinds of things.

Wherever you find one of them you'll usually find the other. Anyway,

after they got the solution Crane took Seaton in his car, and somebody

said they went out to Crane's house. Probably trying to humor him. Well,

ta-ta; I've got a week's work to do yet today."



As Scott left DuQuesne dropped his work and went to his desk, with a new

expression, half of chagrin, half of admiration, on his face. Picking up

his telephone, he called a number.



"Brookings?" he asked, cautiously. "This is DuQuesne. I must see you

immediately. There's something big started that may as well belong to

us.... No, can't say anything over the telephone.... Yes, I'll be right

out."



He left the laboratory and soon was in the private office of the head of

the Washington or "diplomatic" branch, as it was known in certain

circles, of the great World Steel Corporation. Offices and laboratories

were maintained in the city, ostensibly for research work, but in

reality to be near the center of political activity.



"How do you do, Doctor DuQuesne?" Brookings said as he seated his

visitor. "You seem excited."



"Not excited, but in a hurry," DuQuesne replied. "The biggest thing in

history has just broken, and we've got to work fast if we get in on it.

Have you any doubts that I always know what I am talking about?"



"No," answered the other in surprise. "Not the slightest. You are widely

known as an able man. In fact, you have helped this company several

times in various deal--er, in various ways."



"Say it. Brookings. 'Deals' is the right word. This one is going to be

the biggest ever. The beauty of it is that it should be easy--one simple

burglary and an equally simple killing--and won't mean wholesale murder,

as did that...."



"Oh, no, Doctor, not murder. Unavoidable accidents."



"Why not call things by their right names and save breath, as long as

we're alone? I'm not squeamish. But to get down to business. You know

Seaton, of our division, of course. He has been recovering the various

rare metals from all the residues that have accumulated in the Bureau

for years. After separating out all the known metals he had something

left, and thought it was a new element, a metal. In one of his attempts

to get it into the metallic state, a little of its solution fizzed out

and over a copper steam bath or tank, which instantly flew out of the

window like a bullet. It went clear out of sight, out of range of his

binoculars, just that quick." He snapped his fingers under Brookings'

nose. "Now that discovery means such power as the world never dreamed

of. In fact, if Seaton hadn't had all the luck in the world right with

him yesterday, he would have blown half of North America off the map.

Chemists have known for years that all matter contains enormous stores

of intra-atomic energy, but have always considered it 'bound'--that is,

incapable of liberation. Seaton has liberated it."



"And that means?"



"That with the process worked out, the Corporation could furnish power

to the entire world, at very little expense."



* * * * *



A look of scornful unbelief passed over Brookings' face.



"Sneer if you like," DuQuesne continued evenly. "Your ignorance doesn't

change the fact in any particular. Do you know what intra-atomic energy

is?"



"I'm afraid that I don't, exactly."



"Well, it's the force that exists between the ultimate component parts

of matter, if you can understand that. A child ought to. Call in your

chief chemist and ask him what would happen if somebody would liberate

the intra-atomic energy of one hundred pounds of copper."



"Pardon me, Doctor. I didn't presume to doubt you. I will call him in."



He telephoned a request and soon a man in white appeared. In response to

the question he thought for a moment, then smiled slowly.



"If it were done instantaneously it would probably blow the entire world

into a vapor, and might force it clear out of its orbit. If it could be

controlled it would furnish millions of horsepower for a long time. But

it can't be done. The energy is bound. Its liberation is an

impossibility, in the same class with perpetual motion. Is that all, Mr.

Brookings?"



As the chemist left, Brookings turned again to his visitor, with an

apologetic air.



"I don't know anything about these things myself, but Chambers, also an

able man, says that it is impossible."



"As far as he knows, he is right. I should have said the same thing this

morning. But I do know about these things--they're my business--and I

tell you that Seaton has done it."



"This is getting interesting. Did you see it done?"



"No. It was rumored around the Bureau last night that Seaton was going

insane, that he had wrecked a lot of his apparatus and couldn't explain

what had happened. This morning he called a lot of us into his

laboratory, told us what I have just told you, and poured some of his

solution on a copper wire. Nothing happened, and he acted as though he

didn't know what to make of it. The foolish way he acted and the

apparent impossibility of the whole thing, made everybody think him

crazy. I thought so until I learned this afternoon that Mr. Reynolds

Crane is backing him. Then I knew that he had told us just enough of the

truth to let him get away clean with the solution."



"But suppose the man is crazy?" asked Brookings. "He probably is a

monomaniac, really insane on that one thing, from studying it so much."



"Seaton? Yes, he's crazy--like a fox. You never heard of any insanity in

Crane's family, though, did you? You know that he never invests a cent

in anything more risky than Government bonds. You can bet your last

dollar that Seaton showed him the real goods." Then, as a look of

conviction appeared upon the other's face, he continued:



"Don't you understand that the solution was Government property, and he

had to do something to make everybody think it worthless, so that he

could get title to it? That faked demonstration that failed was

certainly a bold stroke--so bold that it was foolhardy. But it worked.

It fooled even me, and I am not usually asleep. The only reason he got

away with it, is, that he has always been such an open-faced talker,

always telling everything he knew.



"He certainly played the fox," he continued, with undisguised

admiration. "Heretofore he has never kept any of his discoveries secret

or tried to make any money out of them, though some of them were worth

millions. He published them as soon as he found them, and somebody else

got the money. Having that reputation, he worked it to make us think him

a nut. He certainly is clever. I take off my hat to him--he's a wonder!"



"And 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 get that particular solution? Couldn't we buy up some platinum

wastes and refine them?"



"Not a chance," replied the scientist. "We have refined platinum

residues for years, and never found anything like that before. It is my

idea that the stuff, whatever it is, was present in some particular lot

of platinum in considerable quantities as an impurity. Seaton hasn't all

of it there is in the world, of course, but the chance of finding any

more of it without knowing exactly what it is or how it reacts is

extremely slight. Besides, we must have exclusive control. How could we

make any money out of it if Crane operates a rival company and is

satisfied with ten percent profit? No, we must get all of that solution.

Seaton and Crane, or Seaton, at least, must be killed, for if he is left

alive he can find more of the stuff and break our monopoly. I want to

borrow your strong-arm squad tonight, to go and attend to it."



After a few moments' thought, his face set and expressionless, Brookings

said:



"No, Doctor. I do not think that the Corporation would care to go into a

matter of this kind. It is too flagrant a violation of law, and we can

afford to buy it from Seaton after he proves its worth."



* * * * *



"Bah!" snorted DuQuesne. "Don't try that on me, Brookings. You think you

can steal it yourself, and develop it without letting me in on it? You

can't do it. Do you think I am fool enough to tell you all about it,

with facts, figures, and names, if you could get away with it without

me? Hardly! You can steal the solution, but that's all you can do. Your

chemist or the expert you hire will begin experimenting without Seaton's

lucky start, which I have already mentioned, but about which I haven't

gone into any detail. He will have no information whatever, and the

first attempt to do anything with the stuff will blow him and all the

country around him for miles into an impalpable powder. You will lose

your chemist, your solution, and all hope of getting the process. There

are only two men in the United States, or in the world, for that matter,

with brains enough and information enough to work it out. One is

Richard B. Seaton, the other is Marc C. DuQuesne. Seaton certainly won't

handle it for you. Money can't buy him and Crane, and you know it. You

must come to me. If you don't believe that now, you will very shortly,

after you try it alone."



Brookings, caught in his duplicity and half-convinced of the truth of

DuQuesne's statements, still temporized.



"You're modest, aren't you, Doctor?" he asked, smiling.



"Modest? No," said the other calmly. "Modesty never got anybody anything

but praise, and I prefer something more substantial. However, I never

exaggerate or make over-statements, as you should know. What I have said

is merely a statement of fact. Also, let me remind you that I am in a

hurry. The difficulty of getting hold of that solution is growing

greater every minute, and my price is getting higher every second."



"What is your price at the present second?"



"Ten thousand dollars per month during the experimental work; five

million dollars in cash upon the successful operation of the first power

unit, which shall be of not less than ten thousand horsepower; and ten

percent of the profits."



"Oh, come, Doctor, let's be reasonable. You can't mean any such figures

as those."



"I never say anything I don't mean. I have done a lot of dirty work with

you people before, and never got much of anything out of it. You were

always too strong for me; that is, I couldn't force you without exposing

my own crookedness, but now I've got you right where I want you. That's

my price; take it or leave it. If you don't take it now, the first two

of those figures will be doubled when you do come to me. I won't go to

anybody else, though others would be glad to get it on my terms, because

I have a reputation to maintain and you are the only ones who know that

I am crooked. I know that my reputation is safe as long as I work with

you, because I know enough about you to send all you big fellows, clear

down to Perkins, away for life. I also know that that knowledge will not

shorten my days, as I am too valuable a man for you to kill, as you

did...."



"Please, Doctor, don't use such language...."



"Why not?" interrupted DuQuesne, in his cold, level voice. "It's all

true. What do a few lives amount to, as long as they're not yours and

mine? As I said, I can trust you, more or less. You can trust me,

because you know that I can't send you up without going with you.

Therefore, I am going to let you go ahead without me as far as you

can--it won't be far. Do you want me to come in now or later?"



"I'm afraid we can't do business on any such terms as that," said

Brookings, shaking his head. "We can undoubtedly buy the power rights

from Seaton for what you ask."



"You don't fool me for a second, Brookings. Go ahead and steal the

solution, but take my advice and give your chemist only a little of it.

A very little of that stuff will go a long way, and you will want to

have some left when you have to call me in. Make him experiment with

extremely small quantities. I would suggest that he work in the woods at

least a hundred miles from his nearest neighbor, though it matters

nothing to me how many people you kill. That's the only pointer I will

give you--I'm giving it merely to keep you from blowing up the whole

country," he concluded with a grim smile. "Good-bye."



* * * * *



As the door closed behind the cynical scientist, Brookings took a small

gold instrument, very like a watch, from his pocket. He touched a button

and held the machine close to his lips.



"Perkins," he said softly, "M. Reynolds Crane has in his house a bottle

of solution."



"Yes, sir. Can you describe it?"



"Not exactly. It is greenish yellow in color, and I gather that it is in

a small bottle, as there isn't much of the stuff in the world. I don't

know what it smells or tastes like, and I wouldn't advise experimenting

with it, as it seems to be a violent explosive and is probably

poisonous. Any bottle of solution of that color kept in a particularly

safe place would probably be the one. Let me caution you that this is

the biggest thing you have ever been in, and it must not fail. Any

effort to purchase it would be useless, however large a figure were

named. But if the bottle were only partly emptied and filled up with

water, I don't believe anyone would notice the difference, at least for

some time, do you?"



"Probably not, sir. Good-bye."



Next morning, shortly after the office opened, Perkins, whose principal

characteristic was that of absolute noiselessness, glided smoothly into

Brookings' office. Taking a small bottle about half full of a

greenish-yellow liquid from his pocket, he furtively placed it under

some papers upon his superior's desk.



"A man found this last night, sir, and thought it might belong to you.

He said this was a little less than half of it, but that you could have

the rest of it any time you want it."



"Thank you, Perkins, he was right. It is ours. Here's a letter which

just came," handing him an envelope, which rustled as Perkins folded it

into a small compass and thrust it into his vest pocket. "Good morning."



As Perkins slid out, Brookings spoke into his telephone, and soon

Chambers, his chief chemist, appeared.



"Doctor Chambers," Brookings began, showing him the bottle, "I have here

a solution which in some way is capable of liberating the intra-atomic

energy of matter, about which I asked you yesterday. It works on copper.

I would like to have you work out the process for us, if you will."



"What about the man who discovered the process?" asked Chambers, as he

touched the bottle gingerly.



"He is not available. Surely what one chemist can do, others can? You

will not have to work alone. You can hire the biggest men in the line to

help you--expense is no object."



"No, it wouldn't be, if such a process could be worked out. Let me see,

whom can we get? Doctor Seaton is probably the best man in the country

for such a research, but I don't think that we can get him. I tried to

get him to work on the iridium-osmium problem, but he refused."



"We might make an offer big enough to get him."



"No. Don't mention it to him," with a significant look. "He's to know

nothing about it."



"Well, then, how about DuQuesne, who was in here yesterday? He's

probably next to Seaton."



"I took it up with him yesterday. We can't get him, his figures are

entirely out of reason. Aren't there any other men in the country who

know anything? You are a good man, why don't you tackle it yourself?"



"Because I don't know anything about that particular line of research,

and I want to keep on living awhile longer," the chemist replied

bluntly. "There are other good men whom I can get, however. Van

Schravendyck, of our own laboratory, is nearly as good as either Seaton

or DuQuesne. He has done a lot of work on radio-activity and that sort

of thing, and I think he would like to work on it."



"All right. Please get it started without delay. Give him about a

quarter of the solution and have the rest put in the vault. Be sure that

his laboratory is set up far enough away from everything else to avoid

trouble in case of an explosion, and caution him not to work on too much

copper at once. I gather that an ounce or so will be plenty."



* * * * *



The chemist went back to his laboratory and sought his first assistant.



"Van," he began, "Mr. Brookings has been listening to some lunatic who

claims to have solved the mystery of liberating intra-atomic energy."



"That's old stuff," the assistant said, laughing. "That and perpetual

motion are always with us. What did you tell him?"



"I didn't get a chance to tell him anything--he told me. Yesterday, you

know, he asked me what would happen if it could be liberated, and I

answered truthfully that lots of things would happen, and volunteered

the information that it was impossible. Just now he called me in, gave

me this bottle of solution, saying that it contained the answer to the

puzzle, and wanted me to work it out. I told him that it was out of my

line and that I was afraid of it--which I would be if I thought there

was anything in it--but that it was more or less in your line, and he

said to put you on it right away. He also said that expense was no

object; to set up an independent laboratory a hundred miles off in the

woods, to be safe in case of an explosion; and to caution you not to use

too much copper at once--that an ounce or so would be plenty!"



"An ounce! Ten thousand tons of nitroglycerin! I'll say an ounce would

be plenty, if the stuff is any good at all, which of course it isn't.

Queer, isn't it, how the old man would fall for anything like that? How

did he explain the failure of the discoverer to develop it himself?"



"He said the discoverer is not available," answered Chambers with a

laugh. "I'll bet he isn't available--he's back in St. Elizabeth's again

by this time, where he came from. I suggested that we get either Seaton

or DuQuesne of Rare Metals to help us on it, and he said that they had

both refused to touch it, or words to that effect. If those two turned

down a chance to work on a thing as big as this would be, there probably

is nothing in this particular solution that is worth a rap. But what

Brookings says goes, around here, so it's you for the woods. And don't

take any chances, either--it is conceivable that something might

happen."



"Sure it might, but it won't. We'll set up that lab near a good trout

stream, and I'll have a large and juicy vacation. I'll work on the stuff

a little, too--enough to make a good report, at least. I'll analyze it,

find out what is in it, deposit it on some copper, shoot an electrolytic

current through it, and make a lot of wise motions generally, and have a

darn good time besides."