Of course, "mass-attraction" and "conductivity" were also obsolete terms--except that they described two different results of the same natural phenomenon. The floating mechanism affected the basic phenomenon itself-- And [equation] was the closest Einstein could come to explaining that! Still, a word could be invented for it, Morrow supposed. Not that he understood what the new word was supposed to define--but then, had Edison known what electricity was? No! He had merely experimented and learned what it would do, and then designed mechanisms which would utilize it. Morrow didn't know what "gravity and magnetic moment" was, either--nor "angular momentum"--but he had discovered what it would do. _It_, not they--it was all the same thing. And he designed a mechanism. And the mechanism worked. It defied "gravity." With its volume turned up, it could very probably lift him to any height above the Earth he desired, with its ability growing weaker only as it rose out of the Earth's gravity and magnetic field. And it would keep him suspended, if he desired, until its batteries burned out. There would be limitations, of course. Perhaps the Earth's gravity and magnetic fields would be too weak at, say, an altitude of fifty miles for the mechanism to function. There were probably limits to the mass and weight it could lift. There would have to be extensive tests-- And a cellar workshop was no place to conduct them! * * * * * He straightened up from the workbench and moved forward on the balls of his feet. He spread his arms wide as he approached the mechanism, like a basketball player approaching a wary opponent who had the ball. Smoke from the cigarette dangling out of the corner of his mouth streamed up and stung his eye. He wished he had left it back on the workbench. At first, the little mechanism ignored him. Then, almost instinctively, it seemed to notice him. It went sliding away from him, toward the wall. Morrow moved forward, cautiously. It glided close to the wall, then rebounded gently. It came drifting back toward him--then hesitated, started off in a tangent--and he grabbed for it. A faint, tingling shock went up his arm as he clawed at the shiny metal loops, but that was all. He hung on grimly as it tugged at his fingertips; then, as its influence swept through him and attuned his body to it, it snuggled up to him, suddenly friendly. He snapped it off and felt its inert weight settle down familiarly in his hands. He carried it back to the workbench, set it down, and threw a rag over it. Then he pulled off his coveralls, went upstairs to the kitchenette, and washed his hands. There were other factors to consider, of course. Especially the ones he didn't want to think about--the frightening ones--