little scientist. Ortus seemed to have taken in none of the axers' news. He was crouched over his wheeled contraption, crooning to it quietly.
Radiant Leader spoke to him in a slow clear voice, as if he were addressing a child.
"Professor Ortus. The laboratory where you made your great weapon. The laboratory that was burned down. You remember it?"
"Of course," said Ortus.
"Can you build it again?"
"Of course." Ortus smiled a crafty smile and tapped his head. "This is my laboratory. It's all in here. And I'm the only one who can do it."
"So you could make a second great weapon?"
"Why else have I come to you now?" Once more the scientist pointed proudly to his wheeled toy. "My flying onion will destroy Anacrea."
"I don't want to talk about flying onions."
"Allow me to demonstrate."
"Professor, we face a real and imminent danger."
But it was no good. The little scientist would only do what he had come to do. Now he was kneeling beside his device, winding a small handle. Radiant Leader decided to humor him.
The contraption was a high ramp on wheels. The back end of the structure rose vertically for about three feet, and up its struts ran a little elevator platform. This platform was now rising as Ortus wound the handle below. On the platform was a toy truck the size of a pack of cards. In the truck was an onion.
When the truck reached the top, it rolled off the elevator and onto the highest part of the steep railed ramp. This ramp curved all the way down, and then rose up again to a lower height.
"The onion," said Ortus, "will now fly. Watch."
The little truck was already gathering speed as it rolled down the slope. Reaching the steepest part, it hurtled downwards and was swept up the other side to the ramp's end. Here a trip tipped the truck up, and the onion went sailing on through the air in a high parabola, to land on the floor some twenty feet away.
"A flying onion!" said Ortus, beaming with pride.
"Very good, Professor. A flying onion. Excellent. Now, to return to the matter of rebuilding your laboratory—"
"This is only a model, of course, constructed on a scale of one to a hundred. The onion, you see, is the container of charged water. We send it down the ramp, and it flies across the channel that divides the mainland from the island of Anacrea, and—boom-bang! No more Nomana."
At this he danced a little dance of delight. Radiant Leader gazed at the wooden structure thoughtfully. He understood the flying onion scheme now; it was not entirely half-witted; but the Nomana would never stand idly by while a tower three hundred feet high was built facing their island. The charged water, however, was a very different matter. If the little scientist really could rebuild his laboratory, and pack the explosive power of the sun into some portable form, then Radiant Leader was happy for him to prattle on about onions as much as he liked.
"Remarkable, Professor," he said. "Simple, but effective. Now tell me. How long will it take you to establish a laboratory and produce the necessary charged water?"
Ortus pursed his lips and made mental calculations.
"If the materials were to hand, and if I had the manpower, a matter of days."
"Shall we say three?"
"Three days! That is very little time."
"I shall give orders that you are to be supplied with all that you need."
"Excellent!" The scientist clapped his hands and did another little jig. "I knew that once you had seen the onion fly, you would be convinced."
"I'm happy you're happy, Professor."
"Happy indeed! All any scientist asks for is the chance to carry his projects through to their conclusion. Now I know I shall complete both."
On retreating to his private quarters and shedding the burdensome paraphernalia of his office, Radiant Leader turned his ingenious mind to this new development. If the mad professor could truly fulfill his promise, it would make Radiance once again the greatest power in the land. If he could destroy Anacrea, and with it the
Radiant Leader spoke to him in a slow clear voice, as if he were addressing a child.
"Professor Ortus. The laboratory where you made your great weapon. The laboratory that was burned down. You remember it?"
"Of course," said Ortus.
"Can you build it again?"
"Of course." Ortus smiled a crafty smile and tapped his head. "This is my laboratory. It's all in here. And I'm the only one who can do it."
"So you could make a second great weapon?"
"Why else have I come to you now?" Once more the scientist pointed proudly to his wheeled toy. "My flying onion will destroy Anacrea."
"I don't want to talk about flying onions."
"Allow me to demonstrate."
"Professor, we face a real and imminent danger."
But it was no good. The little scientist would only do what he had come to do. Now he was kneeling beside his device, winding a small handle. Radiant Leader decided to humor him.
The contraption was a high ramp on wheels. The back end of the structure rose vertically for about three feet, and up its struts ran a little elevator platform. This platform was now rising as Ortus wound the handle below. On the platform was a toy truck the size of a pack of cards. In the truck was an onion.
When the truck reached the top, it rolled off the elevator and onto the highest part of the steep railed ramp. This ramp curved all the way down, and then rose up again to a lower height.
"The onion," said Ortus, "will now fly. Watch."
The little truck was already gathering speed as it rolled down the slope. Reaching the steepest part, it hurtled downwards and was swept up the other side to the ramp's end. Here a trip tipped the truck up, and the onion went sailing on through the air in a high parabola, to land on the floor some twenty feet away.
"A flying onion!" said Ortus, beaming with pride.
"Very good, Professor. A flying onion. Excellent. Now, to return to the matter of rebuilding your laboratory—"
"This is only a model, of course, constructed on a scale of one to a hundred. The onion, you see, is the container of charged water. We send it down the ramp, and it flies across the channel that divides the mainland from the island of Anacrea, and—boom-bang! No more Nomana."
At this he danced a little dance of delight. Radiant Leader gazed at the wooden structure thoughtfully. He understood the flying onion scheme now; it was not entirely half-witted; but the Nomana would never stand idly by while a tower three hundred feet high was built facing their island. The charged water, however, was a very different matter. If the little scientist really could rebuild his laboratory, and pack the explosive power of the sun into some portable form, then Radiant Leader was happy for him to prattle on about onions as much as he liked.
"Remarkable, Professor," he said. "Simple, but effective. Now tell me. How long will it take you to establish a laboratory and produce the necessary charged water?"
Ortus pursed his lips and made mental calculations.
"If the materials were to hand, and if I had the manpower, a matter of days."
"Shall we say three?"
"Three days! That is very little time."
"I shall give orders that you are to be supplied with all that you need."
"Excellent!" The scientist clapped his hands and did another little jig. "I knew that once you had seen the onion fly, you would be convinced."
"I'm happy you're happy, Professor."
"Happy indeed! All any scientist asks for is the chance to carry his projects through to their conclusion. Now I know I shall complete both."
On retreating to his private quarters and shedding the burdensome paraphernalia of his office, Radiant Leader turned his ingenious mind to this new development. If the mad professor could truly fulfill his promise, it would make Radiance once again the greatest power in the land. If he could destroy Anacrea, and with it the
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