Point of Departure by Vaughan Shelton (book recommendations .txt) 📖

infectious confidence. Now it was evident that something incredible had been produced. Think of it—two men could lift the converter between them, yet its potential was as great as any atomic pile we have!"

"It sounds crazy." Caples was getting restless. "Are you sure you didn't dream all this, Donner?"

"That story will sound great in court—but it doesn't account for the $300,000." Halleck's laugh was thin, with no amusement in it.

The buzzer sounded. "Here's your hot coffee, Mr. Caples," said Taplin. When the girl had gone again, Donner continued patiently, speaking in Halleck's direction without anger.

"So far, we had spent less than three thousand dollars, including salaries, materials, overhead, everything. The experiment seemed to be finished. I wrote up my report and showed it to Kane before filing it in the project folder with Reed's letter and the memo and everything else concerned. I supposed Kane would be on his way east and I'd be expected to verify his statement of the results. But he didn't come in to say good-by.

"One morning, I stopped in at the isolated shop and found Heiniger still working with the power unit. Naturally, I asked what he was doing.

"'Getting it ready to mount in the projectile, Mr. Donner,' he said.

"I said, 'What projectile?'

"Then he explained how Kane (and I) had leased a surplus one-man rocket from the White Sands Project and that he and Ruhl were to rig the solar unit in it. Rather than let Heiniger know something was wrong, though I felt like blowing my top, I asked him how on Earth an electrical plant could power a rocket.

"'There's nothing to it,' he said. 'It's all in Mr. Kane's translations of those tablets of his.'"

"I was beginning to wonder if this was really happening or if I was dreaming. Heiniger described some sort of method for setting up a magnetic field in front of the rocket so that it could be pulled, rather than pushed, at almost any speed through the atmosphere that the pilot wished—five, ten, twelve thousand miles an hour—whatever the pilot could take.

"It was hard to believe an experienced man like Heiniger would swallow that. I said, 'It's ridiculous! The skin would melt!'

"'Oh, no,' said Heiniger. 'Mr. Kane has the formula for an alloy that won't melt at any speed in atmosphere. His tablets tell how it was used way back there for the same kind of flight. He's having a special sheath of it made for the rocket in Santa Fe.'"

President Caples stabbed his cigar into the ashtray. "Donner," he said, "what do you take us for? You're making it almost impossible for the Foundation to back you up, coming in here with such a fairy story."

Raymond Donner seemed to shrink in his clothes and he slumped deep in his chair. "I know how it sounds. I'm a fool—I admit it. But Heiniger isn't, nor Ruhl. They were convinced they were working on the modern world's first practical spaceship."

"I left the plant with my head spinning and drove out to Simon Kane's place. I was determined not to go any farther with this without authority from you, even if I had to chase you all over Europe.

"When I reached the house, Kane's car was in the driveway. He met me on the patio and pushed me inside before I could say my piece. There was a young man in the drawing room whom he introduced as Porter Hays. He was a handsome chap in his middle twenties with cropped, blond hair and an engaging candor about him. I guessed he was a flier by the recklessness about his mouth and eyes. He seemed very excited.

"They took me to a table spread with photographs and typed sheets and, for the first time, I saw pictures of the original tablets. The typed sheets were translations.

"'Porter has agreed to fly the ship,' said Kane, as if I knew all about that. 'He's with the Pan-Columbian Project and has flown all the other types that have been developed so far.'

"'But this is the one that will make history, Mr. Donner!' I looked at Hays closely and saw that he meant it. 'This will fly anywhere in our solar system—and probably clear out to most others—without carrying a fuel supply. And the best thing about it is the absolute guarantee of a return trip. Those geniuses down at Pan-Columbia have plenty of ideas for getting you out there, but very few for getting you back.'

"I realized the Simon Kane magic had been at work on the young man. He was sold completely and—considering the possibilities and that he was willing to risk his life on them—the objections I intended to make seemed rather puny at the time. Still, I was about to ask Kane to see me in private when the young pilot spoke up.

"He said, 'Say, Mr. Kane, where's the last tablet? There are only photos of thirteen here.'

"'Why, that's right,' Kane said. 'I forgot to mention it. The first thirteen take us through the construction of the unit and the ship and the inventor's successful trial flights. Number fourteen hasn't been translated yet—it takes about a month to decipher each tablet.'

"Porter Hays had a disarming way of asking anything he wanted to know. 'And who does it? Do you, Mr. Kane?'

"'No. That is, it's a special gift, takes years of study—'

"'Then who does decipher them?'

"'Well, you see—' It was the first time I'd seen Simon Kane uneasy and at a loss for words. 'My wife does it. She's Egyptian, a scholar in her own right, daughter of one of Egypt's foremost antiquarians.'

"Hays insisted upon meeting her and, although Kane tried every evasion, he finally left the room and was gone quite a while. During the wait, I talked with young Hays and confirmed my high opinion of him. I wondered how he'd react to Mrs. Kane if she turned out to be the beautiful girl I'd seen in the window a few weeks earlier.

"I soon found out, for Kane came back leading the girl by the hand. I might have said 'dragging,' but it wasn't quite that obvious. At closer view, wearing a sort of chiton-draped white dress, she was even more lovely than I'd thought. The long lashes veiled her eyes, except when she acknowledged Kane's introductions with a quick glance and a murmured, 'How do you do.' Her name was Nalja.

"Hays was obviously impressed and, in his uninhibited way, said, 'Good Lord, Kane! If I had a dream like this at home, I wouldn't hide her. I'd keep her out on display to make the other guys jealous.'

"The girl gave him a grateful look and just a flicker of a smile, but said nothing.

"Simon Kane's reaction was curious. The color drained from his face and hostile was the only word for his expression. Then he seemed to get under control and became his genial self. 'My dear,' he said to his wife, 'we thought you could give a hint about the text of the fourteenth tablet. Are you far enough along?'

"Her voice was low and throaty, with a slight British accent. 'I'm sorry. I have only just started.'

"'Have you no idea what it's about?'

"'Only that it seems to be some sort of testimonial. The language symbols are a little different than the others and it's difficult to read.'

"Then she was gone and Porter Hays stood looking at the door through which she had passed, as if he had just seen a vision."

"Wait a minute, Donner," Caples cut in. "How's that tape holding out, young man?"

"Fine, Mr. Caples. At least an hour more to go."

"All right. Go ahead, Donner. Can't you leave out some of the side issues and get to the finish of this?"

"They're all related to the outcome of the matter, Mr. Caples. It wouldn't make any sense at all without them."

"Nor with them," said Halleck sourly, staring out the window.

"Kane was to drive Hays back to Salt Lake, so I only had a moment alone with him. When I told him I wanted to hold up everything until I'd checked with my superiors, he just laughed it off. He said that you, Mr. Caples, had seen all thirteen translations and your memo covered the whole works. I'm sorry to say this convinced me.

"Next day, a carload of equipment came in for testing and I didn't see Simon Kane for about a week, though I learned things weren't going so well. There was some trouble with the alloy. The rocket was shipped in, though, and turned out to be a very recent model with the latest developments in shock and pressure compensation, oxygen plant, homing-beam navigation and all that. The credit to White Sands was only $32,000, including insurance, so I authorized it without misgivings, figuring that the persuasive Kane had swung a good deal.

"Ruhl got back from Santa Fe and said they'd licked the alloy problem, though it had been hard to avoid publicity. The metal could only be worked in a molten state, so the fabricator was casting the nose sheath and three overlapping girdles with rivet holes, also rivets and fin shields of the same stuff. It sounded heavy to me, but Ruhl said that would eliminate all possibility of vibration. This metal casting accounted for most of the $300,000.

"During the next two weeks, I was too busy with other things to worry much about the project, but two incidents happened that had a bearing on it.

"On a visit to Salt Lake, I was dining at the Pioneer Arms one evening and spotted Porter Hays at a table across the room. He was with a young lady who looked familiar to me, even from the back. They were deep in conversation. Hays looked up and saw me just as the waiter brought my dinner. His expression was far from friendly. When the waiter moved out of the way, I looked over and saw that Hays and the girl were gone.

"A little later, a bellboy brought me a note. It read, 'I expect you'll be guided by your own ideas of honor in a case like this. But if you can conscientiously keep your goddam mouth shut, you may help to correct a great injustice. Hays.'"

Caples had joined Halleck at the window. Now he interrupted. "I suppose this note and the bill of lading on the rocket were stolen, too?"

"I tore up that note myself, Mr. Caples. The bill of lading, though—the second incident concerns it."

Young Taplin had begun to fidget.

"On July 19, Kane telephoned and said the airship was all rigged and ready to go. He had chosen a spot in the desert for the test and had scheduled it for the next morning. He'd engaged an expert communications man—a friend of Ruhl's—and the ship and all ground equipment were loaded on a trailer under canvas, ready to leave at nightfall. Ruhl, Heiniger and the radio man would ride out there together in the trailer.

"I was irked not to have been consulted on the arrangements. Kane wanted me to pick up Porter Hays and follow the trailer out, saying he'd be delayed, but would be there at dawn. I told him I had an appointment for dinner—some government brass—but would be there in time for the test.

"Kane seemed to become furious at this. He railed about the lack of cooperation and how he'd had to work out the details of the project almost single-handed, in spite of a clear directive from my superiors. It ended by my hanging up on him.

"Driving home around eleven that night, I passed the plant and noticed a light burning in the darkened office building. Before I reached the gate, it struck me that the light was from my own office. The guard at the gate had just come on duty, but his clip-board had no incoming signatures on it. So I went to take a look. I turned the knob of my office door and Kane was standing by the desk with his briefcase in one hand and his hat in the other.

"I was shocked at the change in him. His eyes were sunken and deeply rimmed with shadow. He looked ten years older than the last time I'd seen him.

"But he wasn't at all abashed. He walked around the desk and took my hand, saying, 'Raymond, I've been waiting here an hour. Felt sure you'd stop by. Wanted to apologize in private for my disgraceful performance this afternoon.'

"Kane must have seen I wasn't satisfied. 'The strain of this undertaking has been greater than you realize,' he added. 'So much is at stake, such a great responsibility to Dr. Reed, your foundation, the whole world—'

"I mumbled something about forget it and told him to come along to my place for