by John Blaine
The bald man nodded.“A fair conclusion, Mr. Scott. In fact, Communism has nothing whatever to do with our presence here. Does that put your mind at rest?”
Rick and Scotty looked at Keller. He met their glances and nodded emphatically.
“I think it puts our minds at rest,” Rick answered for both of them. “Dr. Keller, would it be out of line to ask what you are doing here?”
“Ah. Now we come to the heart of the matter, insofar as Mr. Brant and Mr. Scott are concerned,” the robed man said in his thick accent. “Why not answer them, Dr. Keller?”
“I will, Doctor. Thank you for the implied permission to be candid.” Keller sat down and turned to the boys.
“This gentleman in the robe is Dr. Leonid Blanovich. Does the name mean anything to you?”
Rick gasped. He stood up without thinking, an automatic gesture of respect. “Sir, I should have recognized you!”
Scotty stood up, too. He coughed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I’m not as well informed as Rick. Should I know you, sir?”
Dr. Blanovich smiled.“Only if you are a follower of a rather obscure field of science.”
Dr. Keller came to Scotty’s rescue. “Dr. Blanovich is the world’s leading authority on modern gravitational theory. A few years ago he won the Nobel Prize for physics. He is also a past president of the International Council of Scientific Unions, a past president of the International Union of Geodesy and Geophysics, an academician of the Soviet Academy of Sciences, and an honorary member of theBritishRoyalAcademy and of the U.S. National Academy of Sciences. I might also add that he is one of the best-loved scientists on the international scene, and a hero to his own countrymen second only to the leading cosmonauts.”
Scotty murmured softly, “Wow!” In a more normal tone of voice, he said, “It’s a privilege to meet you, sir.”
Blanovich smiled and turned to Rick. “It’s also a privilege to meet the son of my colleague Hartson Brant. If the resourcefulness you and your friend have shown in following Dr. Keller can be translated into scientific creativity when you’re grown, Mr.
Brant, you may yet be as great a man as your father.”
Rick returned the smile, responding immediately to the Nobel scientist’s warmth and charm. “Thank you, sir.”
Keller picked up his story where he had left off. “The moment I arrived inCopenhagen , one of the Soviet scientists approached me. He explained that Dr. Blanovich was suffering from a potentially lethal aneurysm of one of the carotids, the two main arteries of the throat. An aneurysm, I should explain, is a sac formed by the dilatation of the walls of an artery that have been weakened. It distends, like a balloon, and may rupture
at any time. Both carotid arteries are essential, since they supply blood to the head. If one ruptures, there is a high probability of death, and if the patient survives, certainty of severe brain damage. Do you follow me?”
The boys nodded.“But why all the secrecy and cloak-and-dagger stuff?” Rick asked.
Dr. Blanovich said, “I can explain that even better than Dr. Keller. You may be aware that there is at present a very serious split in the ranks of world Communism. I’m sure you have heard of the-shall we call it a difference of opinion?-between the Chinese and the Soviets. Essentially, the difference is a philosophical one, based on two different interpretations of Marxism-Leninism.But no matter. To you inAmerica , it means the difference between anopinion that we can live peaceably together-coexistence is the term our Chairman uses-and an opinion that there must be war.”
“We keep up with the news, sir,” Rick assured him. “Please go on.”
“Very well.The difference is not just Soviet versus Chinese. Within the Soviet and Chinese Communist parties you will also find this difference. In theSoviet Union , there are forces attempting to gain the supremacy, forces that believe as the Chinese government does, that war is necessary for Communist victory. I am aligned with those who do not believe war is inevitable. Also, due to my age, no doubt, I have a certain amount of influence.”
Rick thought age had little to do with it. It was the Soviet scientist’s tremendous intellect that gave him influence.
Blanovich continued. “I know that you inAmerica do not believe public opinion matters in theSoviet Union . This is wrong. It may not matter to the same extent it does inAmerica , but it carries weight. Without false modesty, I can say that my own stand on war has influenced public opinion in our country.”
“I’m beginning to see,” Rick said thoughtfully. “It was necessary for your illness to remain secret so that the . ..should I call it the balance of power?”
“Precisely.”
“So the balance of power would not be upset because you were no longer . . . you know what I mean.”
“The term is ‘politically effective,’” Blanovich said, “You have stated the case very well. So, you see, my friend Kratov brought Keller to me with some degree of secrecy.
Not complete secrecy, of course. That was not necessary. We needed only a few days,
and full security would have posed problems. We arranged with our mutual friend Dr.
Gustav Schell to meet here at his summer home, and to use the operating room he so generously equipped, for which I am very grateful.”
The bald man, Dr. Schell, smiled warmly at Blanovich. “We cannot afford to lose you, Leonid. It was nothing.” To the boys, he added, “By ‘we,’ I mean the whole world. I, like your friend Dr. Keller, am not a Communist. I am merely one of the scientific disciples of Leonid Blanovich.” He gestured toward the young woman, who was serving refreshments to the boys, assisted by the man in the tweed jacket. “Fraulein Gretchen Stein is an extremely capable surgical nurse. Dr. Louis Veronde is an anesthetist of great skill. Both, likemyself , are Swiss. Neither is a Communist.”
“On the other hand”-Dr. Schell gestured toward the shotgun carrier-“Monsieur Jacques is a French Communist who was brought here by Mr. Kratov. His linguistic talents have been useful. So you see, we are what the English would call quite a mixed bag. We have only one purpose in common, and that is to assist Dr. Keller in repairing the artery of Dr.
Blanovich.”
“Thank you, Dr. Schell,” Rick said gratefully. “Now we understand why Dr. Keller left theCopenhagen meeting. And the woman in his home was strictly Kratov’s idea?”
“Yes,” Dr. Blanovich agreed. “It was extremely foolish of him. But a man reacts according to his training, and Kratov has not learned to be unsuspicious.”
“And I don’t expect to learn,” Kratov growled, entering the room. “Dr. Keller, the woman will leave your house beforemidnight , your time. You will have a call placed for you to your wife ateight a.m. our time, which will betwo a.m. in your home. I am sure Mrs. Keller will not mind being awakened for such a call.”
Dr. Keller nodded. “Thank you.”
Kratov, Rick decided, was strictly a cold-blooded Commie professional. The man surveyed the two with a frosty eye, then asked, “Where did you pick up the trail?”
“Copenhagen,” Scotty said.
“Ah.So? Did you, by chance, follow Dr. Keller to the amusement park?”
“It was my privilege,” Scotty said.
“It was fortunate for you that my man accidentally fell through the scenery.”
Scotty and Rick grinned. “He had help,” Rick stated.
Kratov’s eyes widened very slightly. “Do you mean that it was not an accident?”
“He tried to grab me,” Scotty explained. “I may have resisted a little.”
Rick, with a mental image of Scotty applying a savate with enough force in his muscular leg to fell an elephant, had to suppress a grin.
“I see.And inDijon. Did the man who fell on the platform also have an accident?”
“Was he your man?” Rick asked.
“He was not! He was an agent of the Chinese, and perhaps of certain Soviet traitors who act against the Party.”
So that explained Group X, Rick thought. The group was comp
osed of agents of the Chinese-Sovietprowar party.
“He had the same sort of accident that happened to that poor man in the alley atBerne ,”
Scotty explained, “although not so severe.”
Kratov permitted himself a wintry smile. “I must congratulate you. You seem to know everything that has gone on, which means you very cleverly observed our actions without yourselves being seen.”
“It was nothing,” Rick said modestly. “We also thought you were clever to disable the car of the man who followed you fromBerne instead of injuring him. It was just as effective.”
“You could not have followed us fromBerne ,” Kratov protested. “I watched the road with great care. I saw only the man in the Peugeot.”
“We were there,” Rick assured him. “We had you under observation at every moment.”
Remembering that Kratov was a big fish in Soviet espionage inEurope , he couldn’t refrain from adding, “Of course we’re only a couple of kid amateurs. If we’d been real American professionals, we could have ridden in your back seat and you’d never have known it.”
“The gifted amateur is often more dangerous than the professional,” Kratov growled.
“Are you also aware there is another group involved?”
“ACTION,” Scotty said promptly. “And Anton Zaretsky is probably camped outside your gate right at this moment.”
Kratov sighed. “Not quite. He has gone intoZurich , doubtless to hatch up something.
His place has been taken by his deputy.”
“It seems to me,” Rick said thoughtfully, “that you’ve put yourselves in a spot. There’s the Chinese gang, and ACTION-all after your scalps. They must want to wipe you out because they don’t seem to have anything to gain by being nice. Wouldn’t you have been better off inviting Dr. Keller toMoscow ?”
Blanovich shook his head.“Too much danger of information getting out. It was essential that my condition remain secret.”
“It didn’t,” Scotty pointed out.
“We don’t know that,” Kratov corrected. “ACTION obviously found out this house was to be a rendezvous. For the Chinese group, it would be enough that Dr. Keller was with me. They have made several attempts to get me. So we must assume that the real reason for this is still not known. But our time is running out.”
“When is the operation?” Rick asked.
“Tomorrow morning,” Dr. Keller replied.
“I suppose you were chosen because of your new technique?” Scotty queried.
“Yes. My ruby ray is precise enough for such delicate surgery. I am grateful that it can be of use.”
Rick looked at Kratov. “What do you intend to do with us?”
Kratov shrugged. “Obviously, we cannot let you go. You must stay here until Dr. Keller is finished. Then you can leave with him.”
“Aren’t you afraid we’ll talk?” Scotty asked.
“No. Talk all you want to, after it is all over and Dr. Blanovich has returned toMoscow .
Secrecy is only important until the operation takes place. If it is a success, let the world know. If it fails, we have at least postponed action by the enemy for a few days.”
“Speaking of action,” Scotty said, “do you think Zaretsky and the ACTIONgang are
going to remain quiet that long?”
“Zaretsky worries me,” Kratov admitted. “Normally, I would have enough people to keep track of him. But we have tried to keep this operation small, and I have no men to spare.”
A distant burst of gunfire brought them all to their feet.
Dr. Keller said dryly, “Your question is answered, Mr. Scott. Apparently Zaretsky and ACTION are starting to act!”
CHAPTER XVII
Danger From Above
The rattle of gunfire slowed to an occasional shot, and then there was silence outside again. The group in the chalet waited, a little apprehensively. Kratov and Jacques had rushed outside. Rick looked at Scotty and shrugged. If Zaretsky turned out to be the winner, they were in the same bad spot as anyone else. Zaretsky wouldn’t try to separate the sheep from the goats. They’d all get it.
But it was Kratov who came in the door. “A try at testing our defenses,” he reported.
“They withdrew quickly as soon as we started a concentrated fire.”
“What can we expect next?” Dr. Schell asked.
Kratov shook his head. “It’s hard to say. If Zaretsky only had some piece of artillery, his problem would be an easy one.”
Dr. Blanovich spoke up. “Kratov, we will not keep these young men here.”
“We can’t run the risk of their talking until the operation is over,” Kratov stated.
The distinguished Soviet scientist looked at Rick and Scotty. “Will you give us your word that you will say nothing for the next twenty-four hours?”
“Yes, sir,” the boys said in chorus.
“There you are, Kratov. I will take the responsibility.”
Kratov’s eyes locked with those of the scientist, and after a moment, the Soviet agent looked away. “I will send Jacques with them,” he said. “He can be sure they are safe.”
“Is he a good climber?” Rick asked.
Kratov gave them his humorless smile. “During the summer he sometimes acts as a guide on theMatterhorn .”
“I guess he’ll do,” Rick said with a grin.
“I suggest you get some sleep, as I am about to do.” Dr. Blanovich nodded “good night”
to all, then turned and went to his own room. The nurse and anesthetist retired to the kitchen, and Kratov went back outside, leaving the boys alone with Keller.
“You’ll operate in the morning?” Scotty asked.
“Yes. I have been rehearsing my small team ever since my arrival.A very professional group. But frankly, I would not want to attempt the operation without the laser.”
Rick had thought about the laser. “It seems odd to be operating with a beam of light,” he said.
Keller smiled. “Yes. But the tiny beam is a tool of really marvelous precision.”
“Wish I knew how it worked,” Scotty said.
“Perhaps I can explain,” Keller said. “As you know, light is made up of waves. Light from an ordinary source, like the sun and electric bulbs, is a haphazard mixture of waves. The waves travel at random, causing the light to spread out. They have different wave lengths; in other words, the light is a mixture of many colors.
“The beam from the laser, on the other hand, consists of waves that are very regular. All the waves travel in the same direction. They are also coherent; that is, each wave keeps in step with all the others. And all have the same wave length. This means the laser beam is made up of one color. The single direction, the coherent radiation, and the single color keep a laser beam from spreading out and dissipating its power.
“Can you see why my ruby laser produces a tiny beam no longer than the tip of a very fine needle? So tiny that I have to wear a pair of special magnifying glasses, very much like a jeweler’s loupe. The tiny beam cuts and cauterizes at the same time.”
Kratov came back, shaking his head. “Zaretsky’s group is still outside the fence.
They’re rigging up something, and if I had to guess, I’d say they’re going to try to break in by swinging around the fence, over the cliff. There are trees they can use as anchors, and with ropes and plenty of nerve, they can jump over, swing in an arc, and reach the cliff top on our side of the fence.”
“But you could pick them off easily with guns!” Scotty exclaimed.
Kratov gave his humorless smile.“In the darkness, with trees on both sides of the fence?
If they get two or three men across, they’ll outflank us. Besides, you can be sure they’ll pour in enough covering fire to keep our heads down.”
“Too bad you can’t use your ruby ray on them, Dr. Keller,” Rick observed.
The surgeon’s eyes widened. “Maybe we can! Listen, boys, have you ever heard any speculation about lasers being used as death rays?”
/>
Both of them had. Such speculation had appeared in many newspapers and magazines.
“But such stories are silly,” Rick protested.
“Certainly.It would take far more power than we have just to create enough of a laser beam to keep Zaretsky warm,” Keller agreed. “But how many people know that? Could we persuade Zaretsky and friends that we have a death ray here?”
“Not unless they saw some evidence of it,” Scotty observed.
“You could use the demonstration unit,” Rick said excitedly. “That will throw a ruby beam they can see, won’t it?”
“Yes, but it’s entirely harmless.”
“Let’s not admit it,” Rick said, grinning. He turned to Kratov. “Do you have any explosives? Even a small amount?”
As Kratov hurried to find their host, Rick outlined his idea. “If we have a little dynamite, we can plant it on the edge of the cliff where they can see an explosion. Then we can aim the laser into the sky and show them the ruby beam, bring it down-and explode the charge. They won’t know whether it was exploded electrically, or whether the ruby ray actually blew up part of the cliff!”
Scotty looked at him admiringly. “Leave it to you. We’d better make the charge real small, though.”
“Very small,” Rick agreed. “Like an oversize firecracker. It should be convincing.”
Dr. Schell emerged from the rear of the house with Kratov. “I keep a bit of dynamite here. Sometimes the road down is closed by a rockslide and we have to blast a way through.”
“Perfect! We need only an inch or so from one stick. Do you have a way of setting it off electrically?”
“I have caps that are wired, but no dynamo.”
“How about extension cords?”Scotty asked.
“Enough to reach the edge of the cliff near the fence from the nearest outlet?”
“We can manage that.”
“Good!” Rick exclaimed. “Let’s get busy!”
Within fifteen minutes, Keller had his demonstration unit ready, and Scotty and Rick had laid extension cords to a point on the cliff’s edge visible from the other side of the fence. There was a cleared area on each side of the fence, a strip of grass about two yards wide. Then they ran into a problem. Keller needed power for his unit. Rick needed power to set off the charge. That meant there must be a switch somewhere in the circuit beyond Keller’s unit.
