Islands of Space | Page 2

Earthmen and Venusians knew only too well, since they had a long
history of war on each planet.
Inevitably, the Nigrans were driven back to the Black Star.[A]
The war was over. And things became dull. And the taste of adventure

still remained on the tongues of Arcot, Wade, and Morey.
[Footnote A: See "The Black Star Passes", Ace Books, F-346.]

I
Three men sat around a table which was littered with graphs, sketches
of mathematical functions, and books of tensor formulae. Beside the
table stood a Munson-Bradley integraph calculator which one of the
men was using to check some of the equations he had already derived.
The results they were getting seemed to indicate something well above
and beyond what they had expected.
And anything that surprised the team of Arcot, Wade, and Morey was
surprising indeed.
The intercom buzzed, interrupting their work.
Dr. Richard Arcot reached over and lifted the switch. "Arcot speaking."
The face that flashed on the screen was businesslike and determined.
"Dr. Arcot, Mr. Fuller is here. My orders are to check with you on all
visitors."
Arcot nodded. "Send him up. But from now on, I'm not in to anyone
but my father or the Interplanetary Chairman or the elder Mr. Morey. If
they come, don't bother to call, just send 'em up. I will not receive calls
for the next ten hours. Got it?"
"You won't be bothered, Dr. Arcot."
Arcot cut the circuit and the image collapsed.
Less than two minutes later, a light flashed above the door. Arcot
touched the release, and the door slid aside. He looked at the man
entering and said, with mock coldness:

"If it isn't the late John Fuller. What did you do--take a plane? It took
you an hour to get here from Chicago."
Fuller shook his head sadly. "Most of the time was spent in getting past
your guards. Getting to the seventy-fourth floor of the Transcontinental
Airways Building is harder than stealing the Taj Mahal." Trying to
suppress a grin, Fuller bowed low. "Besides, I think it would do your
royal highness good to be kept waiting for a while. You're paid a
couple of million a year to putter around in a lab while honest people
work for a living. Then, if you happen to stub your toe over some
useful gadget, they increase your pay. They call you scientists and
spend the resources of two worlds to get you anything you want--and
apologize if they don't get it within twenty-four hours.
"No doubt about it; it will do your majesties good to wait."
With a superior smile, he seated himself at the table and shuffled
calmly through the sheets of equations before him.
Arcot and Wade were laughing, but not Robert Morey. With a
sorrowful expression, he walked to the window and looked out at the
hundreds of slim, graceful aircars that floated above the city.
"My friends," said Morey, almost tearfully, "I give you the great Dr.
Arcot. These countless machines we see have come from one idea of
his. Just an idea, mind you! And who worked it into mathematical form
and made it calculable, and therefore useful? I did!
"And who worked out the math for the interplanetary ships? I did!
Without me they would never have been built!" He turned dramatically,
as though he were playing King Lear. "And what do I get for it?" He
pointed an accusing finger at Arcot. "What do I get? He is called
'Earth's most brilliant physicist', and I, who did all the hard work, am
referred to as 'his mathematical assistant'." He shook his head solemnly.
"It's a hard world."
At the table, Wade frowned, then looked at the ceiling. "If you'd make
your quotations more accurate, they'd be more trustworthy. The news

said that Arcot was the 'System's most brilliant physicist', and that you
were the 'brilliant mathematical assistant who showed great genius in
developing the mathematics of Dr. Arcot's new theory'." Having
delivered his speech, Wade began stoking his pipe.
Fuller tapped his fingers on the table. "Come on, you clowns, knock it
off and tell me why you called a hard-working man away from his
drafting table to come up to this play room of yours. What have you got
up your sleeve this time?"
"Oh, that's too bad," said Arcot, leaning back comfortably in his chair.
"We're sorry you're so busy. We were thinking of going out to see what
Antares, Betelguese, or Polaris looked like at close range. And, if we
don't get too bored, we might run over to the giant model nebula in
Andromeda, or one of the others. Tough about your being busy; you
might have helped us by designing the ship and earned your board and
passage. Tough." Arcot looked at Fuller sadly.