CHAPTER X
Norlaminian Science
Breakfast over, Seaton watched intently as his tray, laden with emptycontainers, floated away from him and disappeared into an opening in thewall.
"How do you do it, Orlon?" he asked, curiously. "I can hardly believeit, even after seeing it done."
"Each tray is carried upon the end of a beam or rod of force, andsupported rigidly by it. Since the beam is tuned to the individual waveof the instrument you wear upon your chest, your tray is, of course,placed in front of you, at a predetermined distance, as soon as thesending force is actuated. When you have finished your meal, the beam isshortened. Thus the tray is drawn back to the food laboratory, whereother forces cleanse and sterilize the various utensils and place themin readiness for the next meal. It would be an easy matter to have thissame mechanism place your meals before you wherever you may go upon thisplanet, provided only that a clear path can be plotted from thelaboratory to your person."
"Thanks, but it wouldn't pay. No telling where we'd be. Besides, we'dbetter eat in the _Skylark_ most of the time, to keep our cookgood-natured. Well, I see Rovol's got his boat here for me, so guess I'dbetter turn up a few r. p. m. Coming along, Dot, or have you gotsomething else on your mind?"
"I'm going to leave you for a while. I can't really understand even aradio, and just thinking about those funny, complicated rays and thingsyou are going after makes me dizzy in the head. Mrs. Orlon is going totake us over to the Country of Youth--she says Margaret and I can playaround with her daughter and her bunch and have a good time while youscientists are doing your stuff."
"All right. 'Bye till tonight," and Seaton stepped out into the grounds,where the First of Rays was waiting.
The flier was a torpedo-shaped craft of some transparent, glassymaterial, completely enclosed except for one circular opening ordoorway. From the midsection, which was about five feet in diameter andprovided with heavily-cushioned seats capable of carrying fourpassengers in comfort, the hull tapered down smoothly to a needle pointat each end. As Seaton entered and settled himself into the cushions,Rovol touched a lever. Instantly a transparent door slid across theopening, locking itself into position flush with the surface of thehull, and the flier darted into the air and away. For a few minutesthere was silence, as Seaton studied the terrain beneath them. Fields orcities there were none; the land was covered with dense forests and vastmeadows, with here and there great buildings surrounded by gracious,park-like areas. Rovol finally broke the silence.
"I understand your problem, I believe, since Orlon has transferred to meall the thoughts he had from you. With the aid of the Rovolon you havebrought us, I am confident that we shall be able to work out asatisfactory solution of the various problems involved. It will take ussome few minutes to traverse the distance to my laboratory, and if thereare any matters upon which your mind is not quite clear, I shall try toclarify them."
"That's letting me down easy," Seaton grinned, "but you don't need to beafraid of hurting my feelings--I know just exactly how ignorant and dumbI am compared to you. There's a lot of things I don't get at all. First,and nearest, this airboat. It has no power-plant at all. I assume thatit, like so many other things hereabouts, is riding on the end of a rodof force?"
"Exactly. The beam is generated and maintained in my laboratory. Allthat is here in the flier is a small sender, for remote control."
"How do you obtain your power?" asked Seaton. "Solar generators and tidemotors? I know that all your work is done by protelectricity, but Orlondid not inform us as to the sources."
"We have not used such inefficient generators for many thousands ofyears. Long ago it was shown by research that these rays were constantlybeing generated in abundance in outer space, and that they could becollected upon spherical condensers and transmitted without loss to thesurface of the planet by means of matched and synchronized crystals.Several millions of these condensers have been built and thrown out tobecome tiny satellites of Norlamin."
"How did you get them far enough out?"
"The first ones were forced out to the required distance upon beams offorce produced by the conversion of electricity, which was in turnproduced from turbines, solar motors, and tide motors. With a few ofthem out, however, it was easy to obtain sufficient power to send outmore; and now, whenever one of us requires more power than he has at hisdisposal, he merely sends out such additional collectors as he needs."
"Now about those fifth-order rays, which will penetrate a zone of force.I am told that they are not ether waves at all?"
"They are not ether waves. The fourth order rays, of which the theoryhas been completely worked out, are the shortest vibrations that can bepropagated through the ether; for the ether itself is not a continuousmedium. We do not know its nature exactly, but it is an actualsubstance, and is composed of discrete particles of the fourth order.Now the zone of force, which is itself a fourth-order phenomenon, setsup a condition of stasis in the particles composing the ether. Theseparticles are relatively so coarse, that rays and particles of the fifthorder will pass through the fixed zone without retardation. Therefore,if there is anything between the particles of the ether--this matter isbeing debated hotly among us at the present time--it must be asub-ether, if I may use that term. We have never been able toinvestigate any of these things experimentally, not even such a coarseaggregation as is the ether; but now, having Rovolon, it will not bemany thousands of years until we shall have extended our knowledge manyorders farther, in both directions."
"Just how will Rovolon help you?"
"It will enable us to generate a force of the ninth magnitude--that muchpower is necessary to set up what you have so aptly named a zone offorce--and will give us a source of fourth, fifth, and probably higherorders of rays which, if they are generated in space at all, are beyondour present reach. The zone of force is necessary to shield certainitems of equipment from ether vibrations; as any such vibration insidethe controlling fields of force renders observation or control of thehigher orders of rays impossible."
"Hm ... m, I see--I'm learning something," Seaton replied cordially."Just as the higher-powered a radio set is, the more perfect must be itsshielding?"
"Yes. Just as a trace of any gas will destroy the usefulness of yourmost sensitive vacuum tubes, and just as imperfect shielding will allowinterfering waves to enter sensitive electrical apparatus--in that samefashion will even the slightest ether vibration interfere with theoperation of the extremely sensitive fields and lenses of force whichmust be used in controlling forces of the higher orders."
"You haven't tested the theory of the fourth order yet, have you?"
"No, but that is unnecessary. The theory of the fourth order is notreally theory at all--it is mathematical fact. Although we have neverbeen able to generate them, we know exactly the forces you use in yourship of space, and we can tell you of some thousands of others more orless similar and also highly useful forces which you have not yetdiscovered, but are allowing to go to waste. We know exactly what theyare, how to liberate and control them, and how to use them. In fact, inthe work which we are to begin today, we shall use but little ordinarypower: almost all our work will be done by fourth-order forces,liberated from copper by means of the Rovolon you have given me. Buthere we are at my laboratory. You already know that the best way tolearn is by doing, and we shall begin at once."
* * * * *
The flier alighted upon a lawn quite similar to the one before theobservatory of Orlon, and the scientist led his Earthly guest throughthe main entrance of the imposing structure of vari-colored marble andgleaming metal and into the vast, glass-lined room that was hislaboratory. Great benches lined the walls, and there were hundreds ofdials, meters, tubes, transformers and other instruments, whose usesSeaton could not even guess.
Rovol first donned a suit of transparent, flexible material, of a deepgolden color, instructing Seaton to do the same; explaining that much ofthe work would be with dangerous frequencie
s and with high pressures,and that the suits were not only absolute insulators againstelectricity, heat, and sound, but were also ray-filters proof againstany harmful radiations. As each helmet was equipped with radiophones,conversation was not interfered with in the least.
Rovol took up a tiny flash-pencil, and with it deftly cut off a bit ofRovolon, almost microscopic in size. This he placed upon a great blockof burnished copper, and upon it played a force. As he manipulated twolevers, two more beams of force flattened out the particle of metal,spread it out over the copper, and forced it into the surface of theblock until the thin coating was at every point in molecular contactwith the copper beneath it--a perfect job of plating, and one done inthe twinkling of an eye. He then cut out a piece of the treated copperthe size of a pea, and other forces rapidly built around it a structureof coils and metallic tubes. This apparatus he suspended in the air atthe extremity of a small beam of force. The block of copper was next cutin two, and Rovol's fingers moved rapidly over the keys of a machinewhich resembled slightly an overgrown and exceedingly complicatedbook-keeping machine. Streams and pencils of force flashed and crackled,and Seaton saw raw materials transformed into a complete power-plant, inits center the two-hundred-pound lump of plated copper, where an instantbefore there had been only empty space upon the massive metal bench.Rovol's hands moved rapidly from keys to dials and back, and suddenly azone of force, as large as a basketball appeared around the apparatuspoised in the air.
"But it'll fly off and we can't stop it with anything," Seatonprotested, and it did indeed dart rapidly upward.
The old man shook his head as he manipulated still more controls, andSeaton gasped as nine stupendous beams of force hurled themselves uponthat brilliant spherical mirror of pure energy, seized it in mid-flight,and shaped it resistlessly, under his bulging eyes, into a complexgeometrical figure of precisely the desired form.
Lurid violet light filled the room, and Seaton turned towards the bar.That two-hundred-pound mass of copper was shrinking visibly, second bysecond, so vast were the forces being drawn from it, and the searing,blinding light would have been intolerable but for the protectivecolor-filters of his helmet. Tremendous flashes of lightning ripped andtore from the relief-points of the bench to the ground-rods, whichflared at blue-white temperature under the incessant impacts. Knowingthat this corona-loss was but an infinitesimal fraction of the powerbeing used, Seaton's very mind staggered as he strove to understand themagnitude of the forces at work upon that stubborn sphere of energy.
The aged scientist used no tools whatever, as we understand the term.His laboratory was a power-house; at his command were the stupendousforces of a battery of planetoid accumulators, and added to these werethe fourth-order, ninth-magnitude forces of the disintegrating copperbar. Electricity, protelectricity, and fourth-order rays, under millionsupon millions of kilovolts of pressure, leaped to do the bidding of thatwonderful brain, stored with the accumulated knowledge of countlessthousands of years of scientific research. Watching the ancientphysicist work, Seaton compared himself to a schoolboy mixing chemicalsindiscriminately and ignorantly, with no knowledge whatever of theirproperties, occasionally obtaining a reaction by pure chance. Whereas hehad worked with intra-atomic energy schoolboy fashion, the mastercraftsman before him knew every reagent, every reaction, and worked withknown and thoroughly familiar agencies to bring about his exactlypredetermined ends--just as calmly certain of the results as Seatonhimself would have been in his own laboratory, mixing equivalentquantities of solutions of barium chloride and of sulphuric acid toobtain a precipitate of barium sulphate.
_Hour after hour Rovol labored on, oblivious to thepassage of time in his zeal of accomplishment, the while carefullyinstructing Seaton, who watched every step with intense interest...._]
Hour after hour Rovol labored on, oblivious to the passage of time inhis zeal of accomplishment, the while carefully instructing Seaton, whowatched every step with intense interest and did everything possible forhim to do. Bit by bit a towering structure arose in the middle of thelaboratory. A metal foundation supported a massive compound bearing,which in turn carried a tubular network of latticed metal, mounted likean immense telescope. Near the upper, outer end of this openwork tube agroup of nine forces held the field of force rigidly in place in itsaxis; at the lower extremity were mounted seats for two operators andthe control panels necessary for the operation of the intricate systemof forces and motors which would actuate and control that giganticprojector. Immense hour and declination circles could be read by opticalsystems from the operators' seats--circles fully forty feet in diameter,graduated with incredible delicacy and accuracy into decimal fractionsof seconds of arc, and each driven by variable-speed motors throughgear-trains and connections having no backlash whatever.
While Rovol was working upon one of the last instruments to be installedupon the controlling panel a mellow note sounded throughout thebuilding, and he immediately ceased his labors and opened themaster-switches of his power plants.
"You have done well, youngster," he congratulated his helper, as hebegan to take off his protective covering, "Without your aid I could nothave accomplished nearly this much during one period of labor. Theperiods of exercise and of relaxation are at hand--let us return to thehouse of Orlon, where we all shall gather to relax and to refreshourselves for the labors of tomorrow."
"But it's almost done!" protested Seaton. "Let's finish it up and shoota little juice through it, just to try it out."
"There speaks the rashness and impatience of youth," rejoined thescientist, calmly removing the younger man's suit and leading him out tothe waiting airboat. "I read in your mind that you are often guilty oflaboring continuously until your brain loses its keen edge. Learn now,once and for all, that such conduct is worse than foolish--it iscriminal. We have labored the full period. Laboring for more than thatlength of time without recuperation results in a loss of power which,if persisted in, wreaks permanent injury to the mind; and by it you gainnothing. We have more than ample time to do that which must be done--thefifth-order projector shall be completed before the warning torpedoshall have reached the planet of the Fenachrone--therefore over-exertionis unwarranted. As for testing, know now that only mechanisms built bybunglers require testing. Properly built machines work properly."
"But I'd have liked to see it work just once, anyway," lamented Seatonas the small airship tore through the air on its way back to theobservatory.
"You must cultivate calmness, my son, and the art of relaxation. Withthose qualities your race can easily double its present span of usefullife. Physical exercise to maintain the bodily tissues at their best,and mental relaxation following mental toil--these things are thesecrets of a long and productive life. Why attempt to do more than canbe accomplished efficiently? There is always tomorrow. I am moreinterested in that which we are now building than you can possibly be,since many generations of the Rovol have anticipated its construction;yet I realize that in the interest of our welfare and for the progressof civilization, today's labors must not be prolonged beyond today'speriod of work. Furthermore, you yourself realize that there is nooptimum point at which any task may be interrupted. Short of finalcompletion of any project, one point is the same as any other. Had wecontinued, we would have wished to continue still farther, and so onwithout end."
"You're probably right, at that," the impetuous chemist conceded, astheir craft came to earth before the observatory.
* * * * *
Crane and Orlon were already in the common room, as were the scientistsSeaton already knew, as well as a group of women and children stillstrangers to the Terrestrials. In a few minutes Orlon's companion, adignified, white-haired woman, entered; accompanied by Dorothy,Margaret, and a laughing, boisterous group of men and women from theCountry of Youth. Introductions over, Seaton turned to Crane.
"How's every little thing, Mart?"
"Very well indeed. We are building an observatory in space--or rather,Orlon is buil
ding it and I am doing what little I can to help him. In afew days we shall be able to locate the system of the Fenachrone. How isyour work progressing?"
"Smoother than a kitten's ear. Got the fourth-order projector aboutdone. We're going to project a fourth-order force out to grab us somedense material, a pretty close approach to pure neutronium. There'snothing dense enough around here, even in the core of the central sun,so we're going out to a white dwarf star--one a good deal like thecompanion star to Sirius in Canis Major--get some material of the properdensity from its core, and convert our sender into a fifth-ordermachine. Then we can really get busy--go places and do things."
"Neutronium? Pure mass?" queried Crane, "I have been under theimpression that it does not exist. Of what use can such a substance beto you?"
"Can't get pure neutronium, of course--couldn't use it if we could. Whatwe need and are going to get is a material of about two and a halfmillion specific gravity. Got to have it for lenses and controls for thefifth-order forces. Those rays go right through anything less densewithout measurable refraction. But I see Rovol's giving me a nasty look.He's my boss on this job, and I imagine this kind of talk's barredduring the period of relaxation, as being work. That so, chief?"
"You know that it is barred, you incorrigible young cub!" answeredRovol, with a smile.
"All right, boss; one more little infraction and I'll shut up like aclam. I'd like to know what the girls have been doing."
"We've been having a wonderful time!" Dorothy declared. "We've beendesigning fabrics and ornaments and jewels and things. Wait 'til you see'em!"
"Fine! All right, Orlon, it's your party--what to do?"
"This is the time of exercise. We have many forms, most of which areunfamiliar to you. You all swim, however, and as that is one of the bestof exercises, I suggest that we all swim."
"Lead us to it!" Seaton exclaimed, then his voice changed abruptly."Wait a minute--I don't know about our swimming in copper sulphatesolution."
"We swim in fresh water as often as in salt, and the pool is now filledwith distilled water."
The Terrestrials quickly donned their bathing suits and all went throughthe observatory and down a winding path, bordered with the peculiarlybeautiful scarlet and green shrubbery, to the "pool"--an artificial lakecovering a hundred acres, its polished metal bottom and sides strikinglydecorated with jewels and glittering tiles in tasteful yet contrastinginlaid designs. Any desired depth of water was available and plainlymarked, from the fenced-off shallows where the smallest childrensplashed to the forty feet of liquid crystal which received the diverwho cared to try his skill from one of the many spring-boards, flyingrings, and catapults which rose high into the air a short distance awayfrom the entrance.
Orlon and the others of the older generation plunged into the waterwithout ado and struck out for the other shore, using a fastdouble-overarm stroke. Swimming in a wide circle they came out upon theapparatus and went through a series of methodical dives and gymnasticperformances. It was evident that they swam, as Orlon had intimated, forexercise. To them, exercise was a necessary form of labor--labor whichthey performed thoroughly and well--but nothing to call forth thewhole-souled enthusiasm they displayed in their chosen fields of mentaleffort.
The visitors from the Country of Youth, however, locked arms and sprangto surround the four Terrestrials, crying, "Let's do a group dive!"
"I don't believe that I can swim well enough to enjoy what's coming,"whispered Margaret to Crane, and they slipped into the pool and turnedaround to watch. Seaton and Dorothy, both strong swimmers, locked armsand laughed as they were encircled by the green phalanx and swept out tothe end of a dock-like structure and upon a catapult.
* * * * *
"Hold tight, everybody!" someone yelled, and interlaced, straining armsand legs held the green and white bodies in one motionless group as agigantic force hurled them fifty feet into the air and out over thedeepest part of the pool. There was a mighty splash and a miniaturetidal wave as that mass of humanity struck the water. Many feet theywent down before the cordon was broken and the individual units came tothe surface. Then pandemonium reigned. Vigorous informal games, havingto do with floating and sinking balls and effigies: pushball, in whichthe players never seemed to know, or to care, upon which side they wereplaying; water-fights and ducking contests.... A green mermaid, havingfelt the incredible power of Seaton's arms as he tossed her lightly awayfrom a goal he was temporarily defending, put both her small handsaround his biceps wonderingly, amazed at a strength unknown andimpossible upon her world; then playfully tried to push him under.Failing, she called for help.
"He's needed a good ducking for ages!" Dorothy cried, and she andseveral other girls threw themselves upon him. Over and around him thelithe forms flashed, while the rest of the young people splashed waterimpartially over all the combatants and cheered them on. In the midst ofthe battle the signal sounded to end the period of exercise.
"Saved by the bell," Seaton laughed as, thoroughly ducked and almosthalf drowned, he was allowed to swim ashore.
When all had returned to the common room of the observatory and hadseated themselves, Orlon took out his miniature ray-projector, no largerthan a fountain pen, and flashed it briefly upon one of the hundreds ofbutton-like lenses upon the wall. Instantly each chair converted itselfinto a form-fitting divan, inviting complete repose.
"I believe that you of Earth would perhaps enjoy some of our musicduring this, the period of relaxation and repose--it is so differentfrom your own," Orlon remarked, as he again manipulated his tinyforce-tube.
* * * * *
Every light was extinguished and there was felt a profoundly deepvibration--a note so low as to be palpable rather than audible; andsimultaneously the utter darkness was relieved by a tinge of red so darkas to be barely perceptible, while a peculiar somber fragrance pervadedthe atmosphere. The music rapidly ran the gamut to the limit ofaudibility and, in the same tempo, the lights traversed the visiblespectrum and disappeared. Then came a crashing chord and a vivid flareof blended light; ushering in an indescribable symphony of sound andcolor, accompanied by a slower succession of shifting, blending odors.
The quality of tone was now that of a gigantic orchestra, now that of afull brass band, now that of a single unknown instrument--as though thecomposer had had at his command every overtone capable of being producedby any possible instrument, and with them had woven a veritable tapestryof melody upon an incredibly complex loom of sound. As went the harmony,so the play of light accompanied it. Neither music nor illumination camefrom any apparent source; they simply pervaded the entire room. When themusic was fast--and certain passages were of a rapidity impossible forany human fingers to attain--the lights flashed in vivid, tiny pencils,intersecting each other in sharply drawn, brilliant figures, whichchanged with dizzying speed; when the tempo was slow, the beams weresoft and broad, blending into each other to form sinuous, indefinite,writhing patterns, whose very vagueness was infinitely soothing.
"What do you think of it, Mrs. Seaton?" Orlon asked.
"Marvelous!" breathed Dorothy, awed. "I never imagined anything like it.I can't begin to tell you how much I like it. I never dreamed of suchabsolute perfection of execution, and the way the lighting accompaniesthe theme is just too perfectly wonderful for words! It was incrediblybrilliant."
"Brilliant--yes. Perfectly executed--yes. But I notice that you saynothing of depth of feeling or of emotional appeal." Dorothy blusheduncomfortably and started to say something, but Orlon silenced her andcontinued: "You need not apologize. I had a reason for speaking as Idid, for in you I recognize a real musician, and our music is indeedentirely soulless. That is the result of our ancient civilization. Weare so old that our music is purely intellectual, entirely mechanical,instead of emotional. It is perfect, but, like most of our other arts,it is almost completely without feeling."
"But your statues are wonderful!"
"As I told you,
those statues were made myriads of years ago. At thattime we also had real music, but, unlike statuary, music at that timecould not be preserved for posterity. That is another thing you havegiven us. Attend!"
At one end of the room, as upon a three-dimensional screen, the fourTerrestrials saw themselves seated in the control-room of the _Skylark_.They saw and heard Margaret take up her guitar, and strike four sonorouschords in "A." Then, as if they had been there in person, they heardthemselves sing "The Bull-Frog" and all the other songs they had sung,far off in space. They heard Margaret suggest that Dorothy play some"real music," and heard Seaton's comments upon the quartette.
"In that, youngster, you were entirely wrong," said Orlon, stopping thereproduction for a moment. "The entire planet was listening to you veryattentively--we were enjoying it as no music has been enjoyed forthousands of years."
"The whole planet!" gasped Margaret. "Were you broadcasting it? Howcould you?"
"Easy," grinned Seaton. "They can do most anything with these rays oftheirs."
"When you have time, in some period of labor, we would appreciate itvery much if you four would sing for us again, would give us more ofyour vast store of youthful music, for we can now preserve it exactly asit is sung. But much as we enjoyed the quartette, Mrs. Seaton, it wasyour work upon the violin that took us by storm. Beginning withtomorrow, my companion intends to have you spend as many periods as youwill, playing for our records. We shall now have your music."
"If you like it so well, wouldn't you rather I'd play you something Ihadn't played before?"
"That is labor. We could not...."
"Piffle!" Dorothy interrupted. "Don't you see that I could really playright now, with somebody to listen, who really enjoys music; whereas, ifI tried to play in front of a record, I'd be perfectly mechanical?"
"'At-a-girl, Dot! I'll get your fiddle."
"Keep your seat, son," instructed Orlon, as the case containing theStradivarius appeared before Dorothy, borne by a pencil of force. "Whilethat temperament is incomprehensible to every one of us, it isundoubtedly true that the artistic mind does work in that manner. Welisten."
Dorothy swept into "The Melody in F," and as the poignantly beautifulstrains poured forth from that wonderful violin, she knew that she hadher audience with her. Though so intellectual that they themselves wereincapable of producing music of real depth of feeling, they couldunderstand and could enjoy such music with an appreciation impossible toa people of lesser mental attainments; and their profound enjoyment ofher playing, burned into her mind by the telepathic, almost hypnoticpower of the Norlaminian mentality, raised her to heights of power shehad never before attained. Playing as one inspired, she went through onetremendous solo after another--holding her listeners spellbound, urgedon by their intense feeling to carry them further and ever further intothe realm of pure emotional harmony. The bell which ordinarily signaledthe end of the period of relaxation did not sound; for the first time inthousands of years the planet of Norlamin deserted its rigid schedule oflife--to listen to one Earth-woman, pouring out her very soul upon herincomparable violin.
The final note of "Memories" died away in a diminuendo wail, and themusician almost collapsed into Seaton's arms. The profound silence, moreimpressive far than any possible applause, was soon broken by Dorothy.
"There--I'm all right now, Dick. I was about out of control for aminute. I wish they could have had that on a recorder--I'll never beable to play like that again if I live to be a thousand years old."
"It is on record, daughter. Every note and every inflection ispreserved, precisely as you played it," Orlon assured her. "That is ouronly excuse for allowing you to continue as you did, almost to the pointof exhaustion. While we cannot really understand an artistic mind of thepeculiar type to which yours belongs, yet we realized that each time youplay you are doing something that no one, not even yourself, can ever doagain in precisely the same subtle fashion. Therefore we allowed, infact encouraged, you to go on as long as that creative impulse shouldendure--not merely for our pleasure in hearing it, great though thatpleasure was, but in the hope that our workers in music could, by acareful analysis of your product, determine quantitatively the exactvibrations or overtones which make the difference between emotional andintellectual music."