Faraday made his choice. He set an alarm for five o’clock and decided that would give him necessary time for all the morning called to do. He had determined to surrender himself when the demand came; but he was prepared to deny his discovery to the world if condemned to die. He reviewed his powers. He had reached a synthesis of fissionable materials that reduced the problem of creating atomic energy to comparatively simple dimensions of cost, manufacture and control. With prodigious labour he had arrived at his results and, given this secret, immense scientific progress must almost instantly follow, for the discovery would find application through a thousand industrial channels which Faraday himself had already explored. Evidence to the labour of the physicist existed in abundance at his laboratory and significant material and machines would tell their story to the expert. Certain copious note-books and memoranda locked up at Cliff crowned his knowledge for understanding readers and combined to point the road. Indeed all was ready for the public exposition he had proposed to submit to science and the world; but now, it became vital to protect everything and deny his knowledge to humanity should life and liberty be denied him. His morning energies centred in the laboratory and preparation for the siege that it might presently be called to resist. To save the fabric, despite its immense solidity, would be impossible, but to render its destruction a vast and needless disaster was in his power and could be done swiftly enough. Already the necessary means were adjusted, for, in the event of a German landing, he had intended to blow up the place and all that it contained.
Bringing his note-books and data with him from Cliff House, Faraday now worked for three hours upon his task and, when the guardians of the place arrived at eight o’clock, all was complete and every adjustment in order. He warned the men that circumstances of the gravest nature had arisen and that, for a time, it must be needful to take utmost precautions. He explained that Ernest Trensham had disappeared during the night and how greatly he feared foul play was responsible for the explosion. He suspected a plot aimed against his work and told them the laboratory was now mechanically guarded from within.
“I have made it a death-trap,” he said, “and any man attempting to enter by door or roof, by window, or by battery, will spring that trap. The result of such an attempt must be a smash-up to which last night is nothing so, for God’s sake and your own, watch out and keep awake until you hear again. Allow nobody within half a mile of it if you can. You need fear nothing yourselves if you keep clear of the building. I am communicating with the authorities at once and they will probably send soldiers, or a body of police to take over from you in the course of the day. The laboratory must be guarded and put out of bounds for everybody. Far more than ourselves depends upon what is hidden there and all the lives in Cliff wouldn’t pay for its destruction.”
He spoke calmly, then left them and proceeded to the police station, where the Chief Constable of the County was expected. The extent of his own liberty occupied his mind now as a doubtful problem, but he judged that his sister would not reach Scotland Yard until an hour or two had yet to pass, by which time he himself would have disappeared. The local police were not yet aware that Ernest Trensham was missing, but Faraday now announced the fact and explained that he connected it with the explosion and feared that treachery of some kind must be responsible for both events. He stressed the vital need to guard his laboratory, explained how he had left it and directed that warnings should be circulated throughout the district. The Chief Constable arrived at the police station while he was still there. He had been a friend of Sir Hector and knew the scientist and his fame. Faraday went over the ground once more with him, declared his fears of some concealed attack upon the laboratory and his belief the explosion was probably planned against it. He also revealed how, during the following week, he had designed to make known his own great discoveries and publish them to the world.
“But all turns upon the safety of my works,” he said, “and I venture to beg that a guard of trained men from Exeter should be summoned until I learn what the Government directs. Only you, of course, can order such a step to be taken and I trust you will see the need to do so. I go to town immediately myself.”
He was now only concerned to escape any immediate arrest and preserve freedom and initiative a little longer. His works, on which all turned, he had made as safe as it was in his power to make them and now he contemplated a breathing space, to decide immediate future action. His name would carry weight and though the hour was still early, he went home, breakfasted and rang up the Home Office. His communication was brief. It referred to the great explosion at Cliff, explained that the gravest possible issues were involved and that full particulars would reach the Ministry on the following morning. He said nothing as to his own movements but begged his information might reach the right quarter as swiftly as possible. To himself he reserved a choice of courses, but, judging that by noon of that day he would be a hunted man, his first decision involved the simplest and safest way to reach London unknown. Once there he could read to-morrow’s newspapers, and learn possibly through them of what steps his sister might have taken, or if he were yet involved. For to-day in any case he felt no immediate danger, but wasted little time. Ere it was possible to get to London, both arrival platforms at Waterloo and Paddington might be under observation, but during the hours to come he could reach town and bury himself therein. Telling Roger Horn that he was driving to Exeter, he presently left Cliff in his own car, followed lanes unfrequented and reached a small station off the main line of the Southern Railway. Permanent concealment was not his purpose and he left his car at a public garage, to be called for on the following day; but he gave a false direction and name. Carrying a light portmanteau he took train, changed from time to time and, after a cross-country route, reached the Great Western Railway. He had made no attempt at disguise but wore the working clothes donned at rising and looked, as he usually did, like a respectable working man. By slow trains he crept forward, and, boarding the last at Reading, left it at Acton, then walked the rest of the way into town. In Reading he had purchased evening papers, to find an account of the great Devonshire explosion, but little of himself except the fact that it had taken place near laboratories of the distinguished scientist, Sir Faraday Heron, F.R.S., recently returned from vital war work in America. The journals declared a growing suspicion that attempts to destroy the laboratory had been made by human hands. They also detailed the precautions now taken and the vast importance of the work. They congratulated civilization that the suspected attempt had failed and Sir Faraday himself escaped with his life. ‘The savant was at work at the hour of this dastardly stroke,’ one of them recorded, ‘and had he perished, science must have lost one of her greatest living sons and the world both the promise and the approaching performance of remarkable achievements which he himself is soon to herald’. Of the interest that Scotland Yard might now be entertaining on his account, or of his sister’s actions, Faraday could find no word, but expected another day to reveal.
He put up at an inn near Paddington and after dinner turned to his night’s work. He proposed to write to the Home Office at length. His letter he would leave by hand at an early hour on the following morning. Practice had made him a good speaker and writer and now need for both endowments awaited him for he designed to conduct his own case when brought to trial. No advocate could defend it.
To-night, during a space of four hours, he set down his communication to the Home Secretary, retraced the story of his crimes in every detail and confined himself to the facts alone until the final passages. His plea was implicit but not committed to words. His iron memory overlooked nothing and, while aware that the murder of his brother-in-law could not be proved, regarded it as a minor matter and left no doubt as to Trensham’s end. After this survey of the facts Faraday dwelt impartially upon his victims and displayed neither emotion nor concern of any kind. No unfriendly word he set down concerning them, but what he wrote embraced his own indirect appeal for himself. He made it ap
parent that he anticipated a favourable answer and indicated that, not until after his trial and technical condemnation, should he expect any reply to his letter.
“My father,” he wrote, “was a man whose opportunities and energies resulted in gigantic worldly wealth and the automatic accumulation of a vast amount of money. His means, by good chance, owing to my own existence, were more than capable of actually contributing to the advancement of the human race. They represented, not the petty good will of a millionaire, but, thanks to the possession of a highly endowed son, might be turned to universal advantage, for I needed one thing only to develop my genius and reach the heights already within my sight. But my parent’s elementary traditions and limitations of mind opposed me. While having science largely to thank for his own eminence and prosperity yet, when the opportunity arrived to make a vast and practical return, he declined it. The astounding prospect I was able to lay open before him — the privilege which he might well have perceived as a direct and providential gesture from the supernational religion in which he trusted, went unrecognized. Even further he permitted himself to go, for he declared my inquiries were not only of doubtful worth, but outraged Nature and possibly contradicted Divine Ordinance. Thus he remained within his Victorian ambit and clove to dispensations outworn.
“Again and again I strove to awaken some enthusiasm for science and show that, upon freedom and encouragement of research our future would soon depend, but obdurate refusal was his only retort and, calculating the loss of opportunity represented by his refusal and its baneful reaction on my own great destiny as a servant of mankind, I set about to equip myself for his destruction, since only could this barrier to human progress be surmounted and my purposes attained.
“Any sign of a change in Sir Hector would have held my hand, but, despite the evidence I had given of a great brain and the honours that now distinguished me, he remained obdurate and I struck.
“With respect to Alfred Heron, a tentative effort to take his life succeeded and the coast was clear. It was necessary that he should die, being my elder brother. Alfred belonged to that order of human being held worthless on any rational standard. A worm pulling dead leaves into the earth is more valuable, and in any case I could not trust him to live, because he then must have followed in my father’s steps and certainly denied me the revenues my work demanded. I foresaw that I might plan for him to die in Africa and, with my knowledge, availed myself of that possibility. In which connection I would point out to those concerned that not one word but two will prove of prodigious importance upon the path science is now about to tread. We speak of ‘fission’ and little else; while I, where now I stand, find ‘fusion’ the talisman and affirm that, therein, the approaching and prodigious strides of evolution are destined to be revealed. Much I already have to tell on this subject awaiting the application and genius of physicists the world over, for while Nature will carry many secrets hidden from human discovery until the end of the world, no doubt, science may now count to solve great problems at any moment and while I make no ultimate difference, my life will certainly expedite these additions to truth by generations, and my death postpone that advance for many years — perhaps for ever. Remember that atomic weapons, of power beyond present calculation, now exist, but international accord and friendship do not; and I am ready and willing to reveal how atomic energy can open the way to human amity rather than obstruct it.”
He next stated his case and explained the terms to be offered for continued life and freedom. He set down a table of the manifold directions in which he was prepared and competent to advance international welfare and proceeded in the following manner:
“Atomic energy we have now discovered and can employ for the purposes of destruction; while science remains of opinion that many years must yet elapse before we shall have learned how to apply it in rational causes, or acquired the technique to do so. But we are about to lay waste a huge Japanese city and destroy more than one hundred thousand men, women and children with the bomb destined for Hiroshima. Thus our first employment of this wondrous scientific triumph must be an international crime heralding menace to civilization itself. So my father would have said and many just persons believe. To which Science answers that if humanity continues to cherish its primal, brute instincts, despite its growing power of reason, and employs a potential blessing for base purposes alone, then reason toils in vain, evolution is frustrated, chaos returns and the sooner consciousness is banished out of this world, the better for every cosmic hope. Human life is what we make it.
“But no need to fear any such degradation and devolution while I live and am permitted to labour. For my discoveries alter our terms of reference, advance our physical knowledge and enable us, not only to produce, but control the new-found energy, create it at will, through means known to myself alone, and reveal that this power is destined to become an ingredient of human life and progress, carrying along with it a spirit of harmony rather than discord, of peace, not war. Did steam and electricity appeal to our baser instincts? Then why something far mightier than these? Atomic energy may be set flowing within a year of the present time, to regenerate flagging hope in a manner as yet beyond the imagination of our most sanguine humanists, make its appeal to ignorance and wisdom alike, and win a welcome from every quarter of the globe.
“To England,” continued the writer, “I brought back my radioactive synthesis perfected, and circumstances enabled me to experiment in an objective manner almost immediately after my return. My brother-in-law it was who sacrificed himself, all unwitting, to the cause and I may now mention and dismiss the last of those who lost their lives by obstructing greater issues. The late Ernest Trensham was a man strangely gifted, but also tainted by defects that shortened his days. His singular detective powers, combined with the circumstances that give them opportunity, enabled him to discover the truth concerning my father’s end; but where another man had directed the Law to deal with me on my return, he did otherwise and confronted me directly — to pay the penalty of his own weakness. Unhappily for him he was inspired to debase his achievement and seek from it personal gain, thus playing into my hands. But meantime an ill-judged lie cost him his useless life and now threatens my own. His purpose: to spare me in exchange for a fortune, tallied with an assurance that he alone knew the truth and, believing him, the man’s destruction appeared the quickest way to security. I invited Ernest to my laboratory for that reason and, after the explosion, should have reported the fact and explained that he might well have abstracted something from it and been responsible for what happened last night together with his own death. But my intentions, built on the superstructure of his lie, collapsed after the deed was done; and because his falsehood finished the blackmailer himself, by believing it and acting upon it, I stand where now I stand. Ere now my sister, Greta Trensham, has probably conveyed the whole story to Scotland Yard, or laid it before yourself, for devotion to her husband must long since have awakened her unspeakable hatred for me. That is to be expected: they were a united couple and deeply attached to each other; but what was not to be expected and must have deceived any rational mind, as it deceived my own, was that he should have disclosed to her the manner of her father’s death. Apart from such a needless cruelty, it weakened his position and, on second thoughts, surely astounded her to think that he could do so. More or less Greta knew the truth of me, but must have been puzzled to find the truth of her husband, or how to condone his intended actions. She knew all and contrived to hide the fact from me without difficulty on my return from America; but whatever her emotions before the explosion, the sound of it no doubt rang a death knell for her and confirmed the fears she must certainly have endured on his account. She may have surmised that I had killed myself rather than destroy him but, when I telephoned from my laboratory, can have felt little doubt as to Trensham’s fate. She wasted no time then and, before I returned to the house, was already gone — an action that spoke to me louder than words. She had escaped me to destroy me by ev
ery means in her power, and it may also be supposed that she feared now for her own life and felt need to ensure it.
“I am not in love with existence, but still in love with truth which can only be courted by the living. I therefore offer what amounts to a bargain — in no egotistical spirit — and come laden with new truths, not asking in exchange my life as the trifling thing it is in itself, but desiring that it may be employed to universal advantage upon the new road I have discovered. Pursuit of that road demands me in the flesh, and the existing contents of my laboratory alike require it. Progress depends upon our reunion, but if my life is to be taken, the laboratory also ceases to exist.
“To destroy the place is easy; to enter it without doing so, impossible. Any attempt at penetration will result in a volcano so vast that every familiar contour of the scene in which it lies and every ambient trace of man and man’s handiwork must vanish over a region impossible to measure. Before all else, let the authorities be warned that guardianship is of supreme importance and cannot be too vigilant for, should it be decided that I perish and subsequent attempts are set in hand to salve and enter the laboratory, they would be vain. Not the most skilled engineers alive can accomplish that. The teeth of the laboratory cannot be drawn by any save myself, and long since, when the possibility of foreign invasion existed, I invented and installed simple machinery designed to protect it. The time factor is also in my procedure — a fact you will readily appreciate — and if I am denied, then an hour must come in the future when ultimate destruction overwhelms my workshop and creates what will be a geographical and social calamity on a scale unparalleled. The instrument that destroyed Trensham and brought down a three-hundred-foot cliff was no bigger than a pine-apple; but my laboratory contains over a hundred as great.
The Fall of the House of Heron (Prologue Science Fiction) Page 21
