Instantly the boy inquired why somebody did not capture the power of that explosion and set it to work. He was told that any such achievement was impossible. The show was not affected by heat or cold, and would continue for a thousand years or more till the radium was all used up.
What were those flashes? How could he learn more about them? He must wait till he had enough physics to follow the writings of a man named Rutherford.
He was sorry to wait, but he was glad that some human being was at work on the job. He went home full of wonder and impatience. He never forgot the marvelous show. All through the year he kept seeing those immortal fireflies charging the darkness and wasting energy. He no longer broke the law by helping his mates with their mathematics, but spent extra time each day in reading mathematics beyond the requirements.
And so his high-school years went by. Athletics and girls, Latin and French and German went far to divert his mind from the mysteries of radium.
It was not until 1911, when he was about to graduate and enter Yale, that he ran on an article by the mysterious Rutherford and found himself able to understand some of it.
He had long since learned that even solid iron is full of spaces, and that within the spaces are minute particles in constant motion. He was now to learn that the minute particles are themselves hollow—that an atom is a central nucleus of positive electricity which holds in its sky one or more moons of negative electricity.
In other words, the cheek of a girl, which feels so smooth to the lips, is really a starry sky full of electric suns and moons. The tension between each sun and its moons is all that keeps the cheek from exploding when you kiss it. And here he had been calling them all “darlin’”! Well, he might have known that girls were composed of electricity. He had often felt it thrilling up his arm.
An atom of hydrogen was one charge of positive electricity balanced by one charge of negative. At least, he guessed that if you could ever get a hydrogen atom off by itself, it could be called a balance. But it was not a perfect balance, for the touch of fire would make the moon slip off and combine with the moons of oxygen in a sharp explosion.
An atom of helium was heavier, as if four positive charges were balanced by four negatives. Rutherford did not tell the young mind just how those four positive charges—which would naturally fly apart—were cemented into the nucleus, but Marvin guessed that two of the negatives did the work, leaving two moons in the sky. This balance was very strong. The gas never burns or explodes, and can be pressed into a liquid so cold that it boils far below the point where mercury freezes.
A girl composed entirely of helium would be perfectly neutral, incapable of sending out one flash or thrill. All the girls he knew were composed of flesh and blood, which of course were chemical substances but very far from neutral.