The death crystal

One by one, forty of the Earth's greatest scientists vanished into that world beyond the universe—until one man, doomed by its fatal rays, carried humanity's last hope back the blinding, twisted corridors that led through—
CHAPTER ONE
The Shape of Danger
They looked at the crystal in horror.
It was the horror of the serpent, or of the Gorgon's head. They were fascinated; in that moment not one of them could have torn his gaze away. All work ceased. The noises in the concrete-walled room died until the whish of breathing and the thumping of hearts could be heard.
Then panic caught them, and fought against training. Panic cried, Run! and training said, Remove yourself quickly.
With the motion-saving efficiency of the emergency drill, each man turned from his position and walked rapidly towards whichever exit was nearest.
Actually, they could not outrun the danger any more than one can duck a rifle bullet or outrace the atomic bomb. But they went, five men and one woman, out through the zigzag corridors towards a mirage of safety.
One man remained.
Dave Crandall stepped forward and picked the crystal from its place in the evaporation dish. He turned, doused hand and crystal under a faucet, and then dropped the crystal on an anvil. He hit it with a heavy hammer. Anvil and crystal rang musically, and the crystal rebounded and flew through the air unharmed.
Cursing under his breath, Dave Crandall darted, picked it up again, and looked around wildly.
There were vats of acid handy; an electronic furnace glowed white-hot through its slit; a tunnel gaped unexcitingly but in its depths were the invisible radiations of the atomic pile. None of these would work soon enough.