THE MACHINE THAT FLOATS _By Joe Gibson_ _Illustrated by H. W. McCauley_ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Other Worlds March 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] _What if you invented a space ship? Would you give it to the world? And what if you decide NOT to! Are you a criminal to be hunted down?_ Bill Morrow fished his cigarettes out, shook one loose, and poked it between his lips. He lighted it with hands that shook badly, he leaned back on the workbench and blew smoke in a long, heavy sigh. His gaze remained fixed on the compact little chunk of glittering grids, coils, and metal loops that floated in the center of the room. Floated, by Isaac Newton--_floated!_ It worked. It worked beautifully! He'd merely inserted the four dry-cell flashlight batteries into their clamps and thumbed the switch on the little face-panel. The tiny pilot-light winked on, the needle jiggled on the single instrument dial-- And it worked. It had risen gently from the workbench, floating into the air.... Then, seemingly, it had fostered a dislike for the workbench. It slid off and bounced toward the floor--bounced, up and down in the air, gently--and floated on across the cellar toward the oil furnace in the corner. But as it approached the oil furnace, it had decided it didn't like that either--so it deflected its course and floated toward the concrete cellar wall. But it didn't like the wall. So it reversed its course and retreated to the center of the room. There it hovered, four feet above the cement floor, four feet below the rafters of the cellar roof. It hovered in mid-air. Morrow stared at it, critically. He could capture it--get it between himself and the wall, and reach out and grab it before it could slip away--and touching it wouldn't harm him. The magneto-gravitic coils didn't need high voltage. It was working on its lowest "volume" setting. The only word applicable was "volume" because he used an ordinary volume-control grid and knob to adjust its power--and, again, "power" was the only applicable word. He might have to invent a few new words for it. But on its lowest volume setting, it was supporting its own weight--suspending itself in the Earth's gravitic field. And since gravitic forces were also magnetic forces, he would weigh a fraction of a pound lighter when he grabbed hold of the mechanism--just he, himself, since he wore rubber-soled shoes. If he turned up its volume, it would exert greater influence on the molecular structure of itself and of his body--and perhaps of a few grains of dust on the cement floor beneath his feet--by simple mass-attraction and conductivity.