The shock of splitting the earth would leave no city standing; huge crevices would be formed, and no living thing would remain.
"It sounds impossible. But if the man is a maniac—"
"Not a maniac," objected Doctor Harris. "Just completely single-track, literal-minded. Genius without judgement. Cares nothing for any problem that has not caught his fancy but will pursue anything he likes to the bitter end. Trying to keep up with what he fancies is like predicting which way a bar of bath soap will squirt when you step on it inadvertently. He's—"
"Enough! Convinced or not, I'll aid you to re-collect the Professor. How shall we go about it?"
"You're the man-hunter," said Edwards with a smile. "How do you go about it?"
"Just what kind of thing will this mad genius use to divide the earth?" asked Ingalls.
"Lord knows," grunted Harris. "Why?"
"I was suggesting that we keep watch over the sale of certain materials."
"Make it a watch over all materials," snorted Edwards. "Field theory is an abstract subject and he'll try to reduce it to practise, I'd guess. Mechanical division is impossible, I'd state flatly. Gravity holds the earth together; slicing it would do no good for it would cold-pressure weld together once the knife passed. But with some sort of field to divide and direct the forces of gravity—Well, your guess is as good as mine."