"World conquest! Worse—revenge. He intends to blast all big cities to ruin, then resume the dictatorship that was once his father's."
"His father's?" Memory came to the young engineer of history. Establishment of the World Government in 1975. Exiling a man who had set himself up as World Dictator. Yes, his name had been Gates. He had died in Siberia. And this Gates was the son—explaining the signalling to Earth. A party of adherents waited there for a millennium or something. "But you helped with his signals," Bonwitt accused.
"I did," grinned the older man, "to keep this screwball's gang together where I can blast them out of existence as soon as I get Gates. Gates discovered inner Luna and, the fool, told me about it. Played right into my hands."
Bonwitt shuddered. Here was a double-crosser of the first water. "How do you plan to upset the beans and where do you profit yourself?" he asked.
"I'll kill off the Selenites—there's only a million or so—with a supersonic generator Gates developed. Their brains are susceptible to a certain vibration rate; they'll die like flies. And Gates won't be here to interfere. There'll be no more Selenites; I'll dictate to Earth. I'll blast some forests and a couple of villages to show them I can do it. Perfect, isn't it?"
The engineer stared. Peterson was a madman, a wholesale killer at heart—worse. "What would be your terms?" Bonwitt asked steadily.
"Not harsh. I don't want to be a dictator nor to destroy cities. I hate politics and war both. But I'll control Earth just the same—with wealth and power. I'll demand personal title to the moon and to Atomic's two space ships. To the larger ship for distant planet exploration now under construction as well. Also a billion dollars in gold delivered to me here on Luna. With these advantages, I can do anything I want to. Care to join me or not?"
Mad, totally mad, this scheme of Peterson's. But just mad enough to come near succeeding unless he were stopped. The world would, in panic, concede anything if ever he should get as far as turning over the moon and burning forests and villages. For that matter, his madness might then flare up to the point of wreaking wholesale destruction as Gates proposed and intended. Bonwitt would have to play for time.
"Sure, I'll join up," he lied. "Who wouldn't?"