touch.
"Okay, so now we've done what any good microwave generator could do," one glum technician commented. "Now let's see you put it back."
Again the procedures, again the signals, again the eerie photographic effect, and now, when they entered, the glass was full again. They measured it. Exactly four-tenths of a liter.
They had the solution then. They played with it. Over the next few days they became quite adept at transmutation, even removing or adding atomic material. Lead into gold, gold into iron, whatever. Nothing more complicated, though.
"We're limited by our computer capacity," the project chief explained. "Until we develop a better, faster, smaller computer designed specifically for this sort of work, as Zinder did, we'll be limited. Give us a year, maybe two, and we'll be able to conjure up anything at will, I believe—but not now."
The political and military leaders sighed and gnashed their teeth. "We don't have a year," one said for all of them. "We have months at best."
"We can't do it, then," the scientist told them. "It takes time to design such a piece of machinery—although theoretically it's within our capabilities—and even more time to build one."
"Playing god is for later," a politician snapped. "First we must have a later. Is there nothing you can do now to use this device as a weapon?"
"We could just build a huge disk, or set of disks, and use them for example, to project feedback along the entire atomic spectrum. Within the device's limits, which are governed by power source and disk size, we should be able to nullify the individual atoms, although we'd be unable to store them or put them back together again. Whatever is struck by such a field would cease to exist."
"I thought matter and energy could never be created or destroyed, just changed," somebody with a little on the ball objected.
"That's true, within our physical laws," the project chief admitted. "But Zinder's mathematical reality is outside of those. In a sense we don't create or destroy, we merely allow the Universe to transmute the atoms and energy back into a state of rest—his ethers or primal energy. In effect, the so-called laws of the Universe are turned off. for anything within that field."
"Build it!" they ordered.
Zinder Nullifiers, they called them. They were built in under four months, months of costly gains by the Dreel, who were constantly growing in numbers, resourcefulness, and boldness. Little testing could be done; the Nullifiers would work or they would not. If they did not, the Com faced annihilation; if they did, the fleet of the Dreel faced oblivion.
Three Nullifiers were built and two were deployed almost immediately, guarded by the planet-wreckers of the weapons locker and the best automated defenses the Com had. They resembled giant radar antennas, over fifteen kilometers across, and were constructed of thin, metallic fabric. When folded for travel the devices were able to keep pace with the fastest Com ships.
True to form, the Dreel allowed the attacking Com fleet to approach unmolested; Com forces penetrated the perimeter with no opposition. Only when the corridor could be effectively closed behind them did the attack begin.
The umbrellalike dishes had been deployed long before. Suddenly the Com forces slowed, inviting attack. The location of the Dreel main force and its central command world was known because the Dreel believed in commanding from the forward edge of the battle area, to be seen but not to be reached, advancing with the forward units.
The incredibly fast needle shapes of the Dreel ships closed on the fleet from all sides in a flash; they were ready. The two Zinder Nullifiers were deployed back to back; each could sweep one hundred eighty degrees. The balance of the Com force floated between the two projectors.
The Com fleet waited. Hoped. At the speed of the Dreel fighters, human control was out of the question—computers alone could manage the necessary nanosecond
"Okay, so now we've done what any good microwave generator could do," one glum technician commented. "Now let's see you put it back."
Again the procedures, again the signals, again the eerie photographic effect, and now, when they entered, the glass was full again. They measured it. Exactly four-tenths of a liter.
They had the solution then. They played with it. Over the next few days they became quite adept at transmutation, even removing or adding atomic material. Lead into gold, gold into iron, whatever. Nothing more complicated, though.
"We're limited by our computer capacity," the project chief explained. "Until we develop a better, faster, smaller computer designed specifically for this sort of work, as Zinder did, we'll be limited. Give us a year, maybe two, and we'll be able to conjure up anything at will, I believe—but not now."
The political and military leaders sighed and gnashed their teeth. "We don't have a year," one said for all of them. "We have months at best."
"We can't do it, then," the scientist told them. "It takes time to design such a piece of machinery—although theoretically it's within our capabilities—and even more time to build one."
"Playing god is for later," a politician snapped. "First we must have a later. Is there nothing you can do now to use this device as a weapon?"
"We could just build a huge disk, or set of disks, and use them for example, to project feedback along the entire atomic spectrum. Within the device's limits, which are governed by power source and disk size, we should be able to nullify the individual atoms, although we'd be unable to store them or put them back together again. Whatever is struck by such a field would cease to exist."
"I thought matter and energy could never be created or destroyed, just changed," somebody with a little on the ball objected.
"That's true, within our physical laws," the project chief admitted. "But Zinder's mathematical reality is outside of those. In a sense we don't create or destroy, we merely allow the Universe to transmute the atoms and energy back into a state of rest—his ethers or primal energy. In effect, the so-called laws of the Universe are turned off. for anything within that field."
"Build it!" they ordered.
Zinder Nullifiers, they called them. They were built in under four months, months of costly gains by the Dreel, who were constantly growing in numbers, resourcefulness, and boldness. Little testing could be done; the Nullifiers would work or they would not. If they did not, the Com faced annihilation; if they did, the fleet of the Dreel faced oblivion.
Three Nullifiers were built and two were deployed almost immediately, guarded by the planet-wreckers of the weapons locker and the best automated defenses the Com had. They resembled giant radar antennas, over fifteen kilometers across, and were constructed of thin, metallic fabric. When folded for travel the devices were able to keep pace with the fastest Com ships.
True to form, the Dreel allowed the attacking Com fleet to approach unmolested; Com forces penetrated the perimeter with no opposition. Only when the corridor could be effectively closed behind them did the attack begin.
The umbrellalike dishes had been deployed long before. Suddenly the Com forces slowed, inviting attack. The location of the Dreel main force and its central command world was known because the Dreel believed in commanding from the forward edge of the battle area, to be seen but not to be reached, advancing with the forward units.
The incredibly fast needle shapes of the Dreel ships closed on the fleet from all sides in a flash; they were ready. The two Zinder Nullifiers were deployed back to back; each could sweep one hundred eighty degrees. The balance of the Com force floated between the two projectors.
The Com fleet waited. Hoped. At the speed of the Dreel fighters, human control was out of the question—computers alone could manage the necessary nanosecond
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