New Tales of Space and Time by Raymond J. Healy

Author:Raymond J. Healy [Healy, Raymond J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Henry Holt
Published: 1951-11-01T05:00:00+00:00

It would be profitless to elaborate at too great a length on subsequent events aboard H.M.S. Impressive. The vice admiral delivered a short and stirring address, touching on such subjects as “tradition” and “hands across the sea.” Captain Sir Sebastian Cobble bid a warm farewell to Captain Perseus Otter, assuring him—perhaps with his own vessel’s unadorned prow in mind—that the Royal Navy could always find a place for him if he retired. Finally Papa Schimmelhorn was borne down the gangplank on the shoulders of four stalwart seamen, while the entire ship’s complement sang For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow at the top of their voices.

Immediately afterward, Captain Otter, Papa Schimmelhorn, and Little Anton were flown to Washington, where they were questioned in great secrecy by naval experts, by technical experts, and by envious representatives of the Air Forces and the Army—all of whom, finding themselves beyond their depth, concurred in recommending that the whole business be left in Captain Otter’s obviously able hands.

It was not until four days later that the Board of Directors of the Luedesing Time and Instrument Corporation of New Haven met for the express purpose of establishing a new order.

At the head of the table, old Heinrich Luedesing glared at his son Woodrow and at the Board. “I haff talked to Papa Schimmelhorn,” he said. “Because ve are old friends, he says he vill come back—but only if ve make him Cheneral Manager, und Voodrow vorks for him …”

“This is ridiculous!” Woodrow Luedesing’s indignation was loud and shrill. “The man is utterly unqualified! Why, I’ll resign! I’ll…”

Bah! Old Heinrich cut him short. “You vatch oudt, Voodrow, more nonzense und you haff a chob vorking inztead for Lidtle Anton!”

Woodrow Luedesing looked around at the Board members for support—and found them unresponsive. Pouting, he lapsed into a sullen silence.

“Veil, dot iss zettled,” his father said decisively. “Now, Herr Doktor Wilen makes his report, und Captain Otter maybe giffs a speech. Then ve haff a vote.”

Ferdinand Wilen stood up, his expression a curious mixture of relaxation and bewilderment. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I know you realize how vital the Schimmelhorn Effect is to our strength and our security. I’m sure you’d like to understand just how it works. Well, so would I. At present, though, the important thing is that it does work.”

Several of the directors nodded emphatically.

“Your Papa Schimmelhorn—” Wilen grinned, “—did his best to explain the principle. He said that it was all because of Maxie’s Constance, with whom he first became acquainted as a janitor at the Geneva Institute of Higher Physics. It took me quite a while to see what he was getting at. His genius functions at a subconscious level. It absorbs theoretical information which is quite meaningless to him, extrapolates from it, and integrates it with his own primitive technology. Presto, out comes a—dingus! In this instance, by Maxie I think he means Max Planck. The little wheels go round—something happens which may involve the value of Planck’s Constant, and—we have invisibility!”

“Remarkable!” said one or two of the directors.

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