tinkles as the crystal hit the sides of the tube on its way down. Then from somewhere outside the concrete-walled room came the awesome blast. The wave-front traveled down the zigzag passages and Dave thought he could almost see it. The roar deafened him. Dave went out through the zigzag passage. A mile across the plain, a billowing white cloud was rising. Claverly greeted Dave. Claverly was a bit shaken, and more than a little abashed. "The relay station," he said, pointing at the rising cloud. "Oh?" remarked Crandall. He asked, frowning, "Anybody in there?" "No." Crandall smiled wryly. "That's a relief," he said. "But I didn't have time to ask where that tube went. I might have blown up the administration building." Claverly laughed. "About all you've done is to cut a large hole in the coast-to-coast pneumo," he said. "No jury in the world would convict you." DeLieb came around from the other side of the building. "There," he said, "but for the Grace of God—" pointing at the billowing pillar of smoke. "Thanks, Dave. This makes you unique, you know." "Unique?" "You are the only living man who has seen one of those devils' rocks in operation." "We were all there," objected Dave, "and how about the Manhattan Crystal?" "In the first place, the Manhattan Crystal is furnishing New York with electrical power—from a generating plant twenty miles outside New York, telemeter-controlled, and completely unattended. Montrose and Crowley and their associates who first made the crystal went up trying to reproduce it at Brookhaven. So did Brookhaven. Harvard, Purdue, Caltech, and Argonne went up trying to make one, too." "But you were there, too, and you've seen it." DeLieb nodded. "It is a six-sided crystal about three inches long, with a pyramidal point at either end, and about three-quarters of an inch across the hexagonal flats. It is clear with a trace of blue tint. So much we know, Dave. But what shape was it when you tossed it into the tube?" "Cubical, and full of flashing red glints," said Dave.
Prev.
Back
Top