“You’re still thinking in terms of money,” said Frescura. “There are things of far greater importance. The discovery was mine. It was mine from the very beginning. I did all the fundamental work. After the first year I could have built a motor that would drive a ship near the speed of light.” Talbot leaned back. “And you still asked for more money, pouring it endlessly into non-existent research? I’ll admit that you could have led us astray--if anybody could. But why?” “I wanted to be absolutely successful in establishing a conviction that the motor could never be built,” said Frescura. “It was a problem in business psychology. I bought shares in the largest company in existence. I had influence, and I persuaded them to spend impossible sums under the direction of the foremost scientist in the field--myself. If that combination couldn’t build the motor no one else would ever try.” “What did you have to gain?” said Talbot. “Why don’t you ask me what I had to lose,” countered Frescura. “That engine would take us to the stars. Mankind isn’t ready for it.” “There’s something to what you say,” conceded Talbot. “Maybe we’re not ready. I’m not a judge. But you’re a scientist. Nearly everyone in your family has been a distinguished scientist for generations. Surely _you_ should know that man is never fully ready for any new discovery.” “I am aware of my family’s collective guilt,” said Frescura. “But no Frescura will ever again be instrumental in leading mankind to the verge of destruction.” “That’s not an enlightening or entirely sane explanation,” said Talbot. “To you, perhaps not,” said Frescura. “To me it is. Both of my grandfathers worked on the atom bomb. It has haunted us--” Talbot’s hand moved toward the gun in his pocket. “I see,” he said. “It might haunt some people. However that disaster was prevented, just as your insane little scheme will be. You’ve failed.” “You’re mistaken,” said Frescura. “This afternoon I knew you’d begin to suspect me. I left deliberately, making sure you would see me go. But I came back.” “So did I,” said Talbot. “You failed.” “I hardly think you’ll shoot me,” said Frescura. “I will if I have to. You left notes. Other men will make good use of them now that they know you’ve been guilty of sabotage and murder.” “My notes will be quite useless to them,” said Frescura with a melancholy smile. “I told you I was far ahead of everyone else in the field.” The gun came out of Talbot’s pocket. He was sweating. “There are times when everyone feels that the human race isn’t worth blowing to hell,” he said. “You’ll feel differently after psychology. Let’s go.” “I can’t. My foot’s caught, and I’m in great pain. I turned on the light to prevent you from plugging away at me in the darkness.” He was staring intently at Talbot’s weapon. “I don’t have a gun. You will have to help me.”