Ganymede (Satellite) -- Fiction; Memory -- Fiction; Science fiction; Scientists -- Fiction; Short stories; War stories
Corvo North shook his gray head. "The theory is sound; it should work.
But three days! Man, we're working against a deadly deadline!" He
grabbed a pad and pencil. "Here, I'll show you what to do and you can
start on the headpiece that connects to the machine here."
* * * * *
And thus started the busiest, dizziest hours of Roger Kay's life.
Sleep was a chimera that haunted every leaden-eyed hour, a mirage that
beckoned and pleaded in vain.
And the hands of the laboratory clock crept inexorably onward. At three
in the morning on Friday, Terran time, with nine hours left before the
invaders would strike, Kay staggered to the televis and dialed Wargan.
"I think we'll finish in time," he reported. "We'll be ready for the
first test in a couple of hours. Have you made the preparations we
suggested?"
The S.B.I. chief nodded. "At the base of each projector we've installed
practically a chemical warehouse. There is at least a small quantity of
every available known chemical. And expert chemists waiting at each."
"Good. Then within fifteen minutes after I send you the formula, the
projectors can be in operation?"
"Ten minutes, unless the formula is more complex than you believe. You
say that Corvo North believes there are but six or seven ingredients?"
Roger Kay nodded wearily. "And the communications?"
"Open constantly. An operator on duty at each projector at all times.
Test messages going through every fifteen minutes. Incidentally, latest
reports still confirm early ones. The deadline is still noon today."
Roger Kay saluted, then snapped the switch. Back to work at the little
box in the laboratory.
During those last hours, as well as the ones preceding them, Ann North
had been a ministering angel. Sleeping almost as little as the two
men, she was ever ready with encouragement--and hot coffee. At times,
almost by force, she would pry one or the other of them away from their
work for a brief period of rest.
On her own initiative she had called in Dr. Dane. Once he understood
the situation, the doctor was invaluable. He took no part in the work
on the machine, but he watched over Corvo North constantly and kept him
at the highest point of efficiency under the circumstances.
Ten o'clock came--and ten-thirty--and they were ready for the
preliminary test.
As he placed the metal plates on his head with shaking hands, Corvo
North seemed a mere shell of his former self.
Roger Kay sat at the controls. At North's instructions they ran the
wires to an easy chair several yards away, as they were uncertain just
how far the magnetic field would extend beyond the headset.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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