She spoke with acidity.
"Captain McCausland, I still wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on Earth. Anything else—"
The buzzer whirred and a voice spoke through the loudspeaker system. "Professor Reuter requests Captain McCausland's presence in the laboratory. Professor Reuter requests—"
The captain snapped his key, said, "Coming," and then turned to Paulette. "Wait here. I haven't finished. There's something more important—" and was gone, leaving her there.
It was a chance for which she had long hoped. Perhaps she could discover why he seemed to be intent on wrecking his own expedition. She glanced about her noting every possible location for hidden things. There was the chart rack, full of rolled maps. Not likely. Then the bookcase, rows of neat bound volumes. There remained the desk and the safe. Methodically she examined drawer after drawer, feeling sure that nothing very important would have been left so loosely about. There was nothing—but what was this? A slip of paper on which were written four numbers and the words, "Changed 4/14/2432."
She pocketed it quickly.
Hastily she went to the safe and tried out the simple number locks—to find the handle swing instantly open! Its contents were two bundles of papers. The first consisted of ancient stock certificates. Her eye glanced at the name on one, one thousand shares of Niagara Hydro to Walter McCausland. Worthless old things... but kept in the safe! Then the light broke. She pieced together a dozen slight references from remembered conversations—Walter's warm liking for the ancient days of electricity and steam, his hatred of modern things. He had plotted to turn the world back four centuries; to destroy the whole system that had been built on atomic power. And, she realized as she explored the thick pile of stocks that he would be the richest man in that restored world. It was a wild dream, an insane one, yet she shuddered as she thought how nearly he had succeeded.
Idly she glanced at the other slab of paper—the drawn conversations with the Plutonians. Nothing else. But why were they also kept in the safe? She glanced hurriedly through them, frowned at one, and then gasped in sheer horror as she understood it. It was an incredible drawing of dwarf men who thrust taller humans into a tank of water, while other dwarfs bowed in a strange ritual. But the horror was for the vague thing drawn inside the tank—it was impossible, yet what mistake could there be?... She must hurry ... hurry... yet she banged the safe shut and locked it, before leaving and rushing down the corridor with the bundle of drawings hugged to her gasping breast.