The Black Star Passes John W. Campbell (good novels to read in english TXT) 📖

“Busy?”

“Come on in; you know I’m busy⁠—but not too busy for you. What’s on your mind?”

“Wade⁠—the pirate.”

“Oh⁠—hmm. I saw the reports on his lab out on the Rockies, and also the psychomedical reports on him. And most particularly, I saw the request for his employment you sent through channels. What’s your opinion on him? You talked with him.”

Arcot frowned slightly. “When I talked to him he was still two different identities dancing around in one body. Dr. Ridgely says the problem’s settling down; I believe him. Ridgely’s no more of a fool in his line than you and Dad are in your own lines, and Ridgely’s business is healing mental wounds. We agreed some while back that the Pirate must be insane, even before we met him.

“We also agreed that he had a tremendously competent and creative mind. As a personality in civilization, he’d evidently slipped several cogs. Ridgely says that is reparable.

“You know, Newton was off the beam for about two years. Faraday was in a complete breakdown for nearly five years⁠—and after his breakdown, came back to do some monumental work.

“And those men didn’t have the help of modern psychomedical techniques.

“I think we’d be grade A fools ourselves to pass up the chance to get Wade’s help. The man⁠—insane or not⁠—figured out a way of stabilizing and storing atomic hydrogen for his rockets. If he could do that in the shape he was then in⁠ ⁠… !

“I’d say we’d be smart to keep the competition in the family.”

Mr. Morey leaned back in his chair and smiled up at Arcot. “You’ve got a good case there. I’ll buy it. When Dr. Ridgely says Wade’s got those slipped cogs replaced⁠—offer him a job in your lab staff.

“I’m a bit older than you are; you’ve grown up in a world where the psychomedical techniques really work. When I was growing up, psychomedical techniques were strictly rule of thumb⁠—and the doctors were all thumbs.” Mr. Morey sighed. Then, “In this matter, I think your judgment is better than mine.”

“I’ll see him again, and offer him the job. I’m pretty sure he’ll take it, as I said. I have a suspicion that, within six months, he’ll be a lot saner than most people around. The ordinary man doesn’t realize what a job of rechecking present techniques can do⁠—and Wade is, naturally, getting a very thorough overhaul.

“Somewhat like a man going in for treatment of a broken arm; in any decent hospital they’ll also check for any other medical problems, and he’ll come out healthier than if he had never had the broken arm.

“Wade seems to have had a mind that made friends with molecules, and talked their language. After Ridgely shows him how to make friends with people⁠—I think he’ll be quite a man on our team!”

The lights of great Transcontinental Airport were blazing in cheering splendor. Out there in the center of the broad field a dozen men were silhouetted in the white brilliance, looking up at the sky, where the stars winked cold and clear on the jet background of the frosty night. A slim crescent of moon gleamed in the west, a sickle of light that in no way dimmed the cold flame of the brilliant stars.

One point of light now moved across the motionless field of far-off suns, flashing toward the airport in a long, swift curve. The men on the field murmured and pointed up at it as it swept low over the blazing lights of New York. Lower it swooped, the towering city behind it. Half a mile into the air the buildings rose in shining glory of colored tile that shone brightly in the sweeping play of floodlights.

One of them picked out the descending machine, and it suddenly leaped out of the darkness as a shining, streamlined cylinder, a cylinder with a great halo of blue fire, as the beam of the searchlight set it off from the jet black night.

In moments the ship was vast before the eyes of the waiting men; it had landed gently on the field, was floating smoothly, gracefully toward them.

Twenty-four men climbed from the great ship, shivering in the icy blast that swept across the field, spoke a moment with the group awaiting their arrival, then climbed quickly into the grateful warmth of a field car. In a moment they were speeding toward the lights of the field house, half a mile off.

Behind them the huge ship leaped into the sky, then suddenly pointed its nose up at an angle of thirty degrees and shot high into the air at an unbelievable speed. In an instant it was gone.

At the field house the party broke up almost immediately.

“We want to thank you, Mr. Morey, for your demonstration of the new ship tonight, and you, Dr. Arcot, for answering our many questions about it. I am sure we all appreciate the kindness you have shown the press.” The reporters filed out quickly, anxious to get the news into the morning editions, for it was after one o’clock now. Each received a small slip of paper from the attendant standing at the exit, the official statement of the company. At last all had left but the six men who were responsible for the new machine.

This night had witnessed the official demonstration of the first of the Arcot-Morey molecular motion ships. Small as she was, compared to those that were to come, yet she could carry over three thousand passengers, as many as could any existing winged plane, and her speed was immensely greater. The trip from the west coast to the eastern had been made in less than one hour. At a speed close to one mile a second the great ship had shot through the thin air, twenty-five miles above the Earth.

In this vessel a huge bar of metal could be affected by an ultra-high-frequency generator. When so affected, its molecules all moved forward, taking the ship with them. Thus, a molecular motion drive vessel could,