4
Robert found Professor Palmer’s homestead vastly more cheerful than his own gloomy quarters.
The Sphere was placed in a large, well-lighted barn, which had been carefully prepared for its new purpose. The barred windows were frosted to defeat the curiosity of possible busybodies, and reliable locks put on the heavy doors.
Removal of the Sphere from its original quarters presented difficulties, because no provision had been made for its exit. It had been constructed piece by piece inside the four walls which housed it so long. It was necessary to hew an opening through the wall, to the acute curiosity of the neighbors.
However, their curiosity went for naught, as a large tarpaulin and protecting crating disguised the object of their interest, which was removed at night. Professor Palmer and Robert were agreed in their decision to keep their project to themselves as much as possible until they had succeeded in perfecting the Sphere.
The hauling of the Sphere proved an extremely simple task. With the gyrostats running quietly at halfspeed, its weight was rendered to almost nothing. Nevertheless a large, heavy truck was provided for any emergencies. They wisely avoided any unnecessary chance of destroying, at the very beginning of their task, the intricate work of many painstaking years.
A small brick building was put up and the necessary machinery installed for the production of mythonite. Here the tedious process was soon directed by Robert. Eleven skilled metallurgists and chemists labored day after day under his supervision, without knowing for what purpose the curious metal they were producing was to be used.
Weeks passed, and vast quantities of waste material were hauled away daily; but the quantity of the precious mythonite accumulated with discouraging slowness. An addition was built adjoining the first plant, and the corps of experts increased to an even two dozen. By improving methods and increasing deftness, the former production was trebled.
Nevertheless, it soon became apparent that the desired quantity could not possibly be produced at the present rate within the period which Robert had estimated. The first month’s operation had resulted in but two small ingots, each an inch square and three inches long. This was before the plant was enlarged, however. This had been eventually increased to seven ingots a month. But even at this rate, it would require almost four years longer to produce a sufficient quantity. Obviously, the project was doomed to failure unless some means of greatly increasing the production could be devised.
It was four months after the completion of the original plant that Robert and Professor Palmer were discussing this matter with a view to deciding finally whether or not to abandon the project. During this time Professor Palmer had come to look upon Robert as a son. His untiring energy, his frank, cheerful personality and intelligence, had made a profound impression upon the professor.
“I am going to see this thing to a finish, Robert,” he was saying. “But if we are to take advantage of the next favorable apposition of Mars just eight months from now, we must make some radical improvement in our program. Not till fifteen years later will it again approach so close to the earth. Have you any new plans to suggest?”
“This,” replied Robert. “We might have the crushing and the crude processes done elsewhere. By concentrating upon the finer processes alone, we should be able to increase our production of mythonite considerably. But we should have to replace the crushing apparatus with additional equipment for the final processes. We must take advantage of every available bit of space and every man’s time.”
“Our total expenditures to date are what?”
“Approximately $33,000. But, the sales of excess platinum have reduced that to about $32,000.”
“Not so bad,” mused the professor. “However, it is clear that we can not reach our goal without a vastly greater rate of production.”
He knit his brows, pondering silently for a little while.
“Robert,” he broke out suddenly, “we’ve got to take a big gamble! We will not only follow out your suggestion, but we will double the present size of our plant.”
Robert gasped. He thought of the professor’s dwindling resources, wondering if he were suddenly gone mad.
“Why, that would bring the total cost round $60,000!” he cried.
“Quite so,” replied Professor Palmer, calmly; “but a four or five year program would be far more expensive—to say nothing of its impracticability. It’s win all or lose all, Robert.”
So the Palmer laboratories were enlarged and arrangements successfully made for the crushing and partial separating with a near-by rock plant. The little force of experts was augmented to thirty, and work began in earnest. The next month resulted in a production of forty-one ingots of mythonite!
The following month a minor improvement discovered in the process increased that month’s production to fifty ingots. Even this production was bettered somewhat during the following months. At the end of the sixth month after the enlargement of the plant the total production of mythonite had reached more than three hundred ingots—all that were required! A month remained in which to prepare for the great venture into the unknown.
It was with a feeling of overwhelming elation that Robert and the professor gazed upon the little stack of dull, silver-gray bars in the dusk of an early July twilight. Winter and spring had come and gone while they labored. These three hundred tiny ingots were the result. Not entirely, though; for in addition to a sufficient quantity of platinum reserved for their own requirements, the Palmer laboratories had produced and sold enough platinum to defray all expenses incurred. Little wonder that they felt elated.
Professor Palmer put his arm across Robert’s broad shoulders with fatherly tenderness.
“My boy,” he said, softly, “whatever the Sphere accomplishes, it has at least brought us together. To me, our perfect companionship has come to mean more than anything else. I did not realize what a lonely old man I was before you came.”
“Old man!” chided Robert. “Fifty-seven years young.”
“It is well for me that you had the Sphere to occupy you, or some sweet young vision would have taken you in hand ere now. But forgive an old codger’s selfishness, Robert.”
“Time enough to think about that, professor,” smiled Robert.
“Careful. Don’t let them make a bachelor out of you. An old bachelor is a superfluity for which no one really cares. Even an old maid has her cat.”
“Very well. We’ll each make love to a moon-maiden,” laughed Robert, and Professor Palmer joined him heartily.
The following day the small ingots were melted and forced into the big, flattish, circular, platinum-lined and studded mold. Before the pouring was attempted, the mold was securely fastened down as a precaution against the lifting power of the mythonite when freed from the earth’s gravity by the interruption of the platinum beneath it. As an additional precaution, a disk of platinum was suspended over the mass, thereby neutralizing the attraction of heavenly bodies.
With great care, the platinum-incased mass of mythonite was installed in the Sphere. A stout steel rod and universal joint connected it to the gyrostatic center, and the wiring and other details of its proper control were quickly completed. The petrol and oxygen tanks were partly filled, the gyrostats tuned up, and the Sphere at last was ready for a trial trip.