in the Jansky radiation was pure propaganda, and its execution was simple—practically primitive. It was a trick once used by illegal radio stations during one of the wars, I forget which. Three of them, widely separated and synchronized, sent out the same signal, beamed to an Earth diameter. Direction-finders on Earth obediently pointed out their
resultant
—a direction in which they did not exist! The Spy-Eyes themselves were too small and too far away to be detectable, unless one knew exactly what to look for and where to look. The amplitude of the signals was raised gradually until it reached a pre-selected volume. Then one of the Spy-Eyes set up a b.-e. field and dropped toward Earth. It looked strange and huge. It came in close and circled Earth twice at a high velocity. I think I had more trouble there than at any other point, but I managed, finally, to wangle the Board of Strategy into firing on it. Their shell hit nothing; the b.-e. field disrupted its atomic warhead, for in the presence of a hard-radiation source, the field increases the effective critical mass. The Spy-Eye itself is what fell on Japan; it was armed, of course, and was mistaken for a little bomb. What made the explosion so intense was the fact that the field held the disrupting matter together for a fraction of a millisecond longer than it had ever done before. The object which fell near Minsk was a piece of stage-proppery I had made earlier. It, too, had a b.-e. field generator on its back. Again it exhibited its exclusiveness and its penetrating power; it acted like a thing of great mass when it hit the ground. It, too, had a b.-e. generator on its back. Again it exhibited its exclusiveness and its penetrating power; it acted like a thing of great mass when it hit the ground. The generator was, of course, blown to dust on impact, leaving only the supposed specimen.
The other three Outsider ships were Spy-Eyes, b.-e. field-equipped. The bombs were real bombs, however, they were supplied by Satellite 18, which, if examined, will be found inexplicably empty of its interceptors. I put guiding heads on them, and sent one to each of my “Outsider” Spy-Eyes.
I think that explains everything. If you question my motives, regard Earth as you deep-spacemen see it today—unified, powerful, secure within and without. Humanity is ready, now, to take the first steps toward greatness. Therefore:
Send my name—Simmons—in the old International Morse Code on 28.275 meters, from a distance of ten statute miles from any of the three Outsider ships, at one thousand watts power. Repeat the name four times. The field will break down; you may then locate the Spy-Eyes and pull them in. Dismantle them; inside you will find this recording and certain papers, which contain everything I know about the binding-energy field. Use it well.
Colonel Simmons leaned back in his chair. His face was gray. “Muscles—is this all true?”
“You know it is. You’ve seen it in action.”
“Now what have I done?” muttered the colonel.
“Jumped to conclusions,” said the doctor easily.
The colonel’s mouth opened and closed spasmodically. Then in violent reaction, he swore. “You couldn’t’ve done it!” he roared. “You set the timetable for this whole thing and built it into those Spy-Eyes. Well, what about all that was done here—the interceptors from White Sands, and the development of the satellites and all that?”
“Leroy, old horse, take it easy, will you? Who had charge of all that development? Who had the final say on design? Who outlined the exact use of each piece of equipment—by way, of course, of using it to its greatest efficiency?”
“You did. You did.” The colonel covered his face. “All that power. All that control. You could have had the whole world for the taking, if you’d wanted it. Instead—”
“Instead, everyone on Earth has a job, enough food, good quarters,and an equal chance at education. I have it on good authority
resultant
—a direction in which they did not exist! The Spy-Eyes themselves were too small and too far away to be detectable, unless one knew exactly what to look for and where to look. The amplitude of the signals was raised gradually until it reached a pre-selected volume. Then one of the Spy-Eyes set up a b.-e. field and dropped toward Earth. It looked strange and huge. It came in close and circled Earth twice at a high velocity. I think I had more trouble there than at any other point, but I managed, finally, to wangle the Board of Strategy into firing on it. Their shell hit nothing; the b.-e. field disrupted its atomic warhead, for in the presence of a hard-radiation source, the field increases the effective critical mass. The Spy-Eye itself is what fell on Japan; it was armed, of course, and was mistaken for a little bomb. What made the explosion so intense was the fact that the field held the disrupting matter together for a fraction of a millisecond longer than it had ever done before. The object which fell near Minsk was a piece of stage-proppery I had made earlier. It, too, had a b.-e. field generator on its back. Again it exhibited its exclusiveness and its penetrating power; it acted like a thing of great mass when it hit the ground. It, too, had a b.-e. generator on its back. Again it exhibited its exclusiveness and its penetrating power; it acted like a thing of great mass when it hit the ground. The generator was, of course, blown to dust on impact, leaving only the supposed specimen.
The other three Outsider ships were Spy-Eyes, b.-e. field-equipped. The bombs were real bombs, however, they were supplied by Satellite 18, which, if examined, will be found inexplicably empty of its interceptors. I put guiding heads on them, and sent one to each of my “Outsider” Spy-Eyes.
I think that explains everything. If you question my motives, regard Earth as you deep-spacemen see it today—unified, powerful, secure within and without. Humanity is ready, now, to take the first steps toward greatness. Therefore:
Send my name—Simmons—in the old International Morse Code on 28.275 meters, from a distance of ten statute miles from any of the three Outsider ships, at one thousand watts power. Repeat the name four times. The field will break down; you may then locate the Spy-Eyes and pull them in. Dismantle them; inside you will find this recording and certain papers, which contain everything I know about the binding-energy field. Use it well.
Colonel Simmons leaned back in his chair. His face was gray. “Muscles—is this all true?”
“You know it is. You’ve seen it in action.”
“Now what have I done?” muttered the colonel.
“Jumped to conclusions,” said the doctor easily.
The colonel’s mouth opened and closed spasmodically. Then in violent reaction, he swore. “You couldn’t’ve done it!” he roared. “You set the timetable for this whole thing and built it into those Spy-Eyes. Well, what about all that was done here—the interceptors from White Sands, and the development of the satellites and all that?”
“Leroy, old horse, take it easy, will you? Who had charge of all that development? Who had the final say on design? Who outlined the exact use of each piece of equipment—by way, of course, of using it to its greatest efficiency?”
“You did. You did.” The colonel covered his face. “All that power. All that control. You could have had the whole world for the taking, if you’d wanted it. Instead—”
“Instead, everyone on Earth has a job, enough food, good quarters,and an equal chance at education. I have it on good authority
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