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“What about?” asked Everard. “About the A-bomb supply.”
“What?”
“That might be the answer, boss. Look, someone has figured out a way to stop radioactivity, all of it. It might be blanketing the country, the whole U.S.A. If that's being done, it can only be to put our A-bombs out of commission. They don't know where we keep them, so they have to blank out the nation. And if that's right, it means an attack is due. Any minute, maybe. Use the phone, boss!”
Everard's hand reached for the phone. His eyes and Joha
He said into the mouthpiece, “An outside call, please.”
It was five minutes to four. Everard put down the phone.
“Was that the commissioner?” asked Joha
“Yes,” said Everard. He was frowning.
“All right. What did he say?”
“'Son,'“ said Everard, “he said to me, 'What A-bombs?'“
Joha
“Now nothing,” said Everard. He sat back in his chair and glowered at the physicist. “ Alex, I know the kind of strain you're under; so I'm not going to blow up about this. What bothers me is, how did you get me started on this nonsense?”
Joha
“He said I was a fool, and so I am. What the devil do you mean coming here with your stories about A-bombs? What are A-bombs? I never heard of them.”
“You never heard of atom bombs? What is this? A gag?”
“I never heard of them. It sounds like something from a comic strip.”
Joha
Damelli shook his head. “Leave me out of this.”
“All right.” Joha
“Right there,” said Everard.
“No. Not the Textbook of Physical Chemistry. I want his Sourcebook on Atomic Energy.”
“Never heard of it.”
“What are you talking about? It's been here in your shelf since I've been here.”
“Never heard of it,” said Everard stubbornly.
“I suppose you haven't heard of Kamen's Radioactive Tracers in Biology either?”
“No.”
Joha
He brought down the thick book and flipped the pages. First once, then a second time. He frowned and looked at the copyright page. It said: Third Edition, 1956. He went through the first two chapters page by page. It was there, atomic structure, quantum numbers, electrons and theirshells, transition series-but no radioactivity, nothing about that.
He turned to the table of elements on the inside front cover. It took him only a few seconds to see that there were only eighty-one listed, the eighty-one nonradioactive ones.
Joha
“What's that?” asked Everard coldly. “ A trade name?” Desperately, Joha
He said pleadingly, “All right. I give up. Enough's enough. You've set up a bunch of fake books just to get a rise out of me, haven't you?” He tried to smile.
Everard stiffened. “Don't be a fool, Joha
“There's nothing wrong with me.”
“You may not think so, but there is. You need a vacation, so take one. Damelli, do me a favor. Get him into a cab and see that he gets home.”
Joha
“I don't know what you mean by counters. If you mean computers, they're here to solve our problems for us.”
Joha
Everard pointed in turn. “ Air! Experimental! Commission! Get him home, Damelli.”
Joha
“You heard him. He never heard of A-bombs. Uranium's a trade name. How can he be all right?”
“If it comes to that, I never heard of A-bombs or uranium.”
He lifted a finger. “Taxi!” It whizzed by.
Joha
“If you want the straight truth, Alex, you said you had something to discuss with the boss and you asked me to come along, and that's all I know about it. Nothing went wrong as far as I know, and what the devil would we bedoing with this pitchblende? We don't use any tar in the place. -Taxi!”
A cab drew up to the curb.
Damelli opened the door, motioned Joha
Joha
He fell back into the upholstery, exhausted. He was sure Damelli had heard the address he gave. Would they get to the FBI first with some story about a nervous breakdown? Would they take Everard's word against his? They couldn't deny the stopping of the radioactivity. They couldn't deny the faked books.
But what was the good of it? An enemy attack was on its way and men like Everard and Damelli-How rotten with treason was the country?
He stiffened suddenly. “Driver!” he cried. Then louder, “Driver!”
The man at the wheel did not turn around. The traffic passed smoothly by them.
Joha
“Driver!” he muttered. This wasn't the way to the FBI. He was being taken home. But how did the driver know where he lived?
A planted driver, of course. He could scarcely see and there was a roaring in his ears.
Lord, what organization! There was no use fighting! He blacked out!
He was moving up the walk toward the small, two-story, brick-fronted house in which Mercedes and he lived. He didn't remember getting out of the cab.
He fumed. There was no taxicab in sight. Automatically, he felt for his wallet and keys. They were there. Nothing had been touched.
Mercedes was at the door, waiting. She didn't seem surprised at his return. He looked at his watch quickly.It was nearly an hour before his usual homecoming.
He said, “Mercy, we've got to get out of here and-”
She said huskily, “I know all about it, Alex. Come in.” She looked like heaven to him. Straight hair, a little on the blond side, parted in the middle and drawn into a horse tail; wide-set blue eyes with that slight Oriental tilt, full lips, and little ears set close to the head. Joha
But he could see she was doing her best to repress a certain tension.
He said, “Did Everard call you? Or Damelli?” She said, “We have a visitor.”