"Well, it's bound to change within our lifetime! And when it does, we may have an opportunity to reveal this discovery. All we have to do is wait, keep it secret, test it and develop it, and turn it loose when the time is ripe!"
"Un-huh," Smitty grunted. "And who's going to pay for it?"
"I've got seven thousand in the bank—"
"And I've got three!" Smitty frowned scornfully. "How far do you think we'd get on ten thousand bucks, chum?"
"As far as we'll need to get," Morrow retorted. "We aren't trying to finance a mass-production scheme, remember. This is strictly experimental work."
"What would the retail cost amount to on that mechanism you built?" he asked dubiously.
Morrow scratched his jaw, reflectively. "Retail cost it'd run to around three hundred dollars."
"So we make a bunch of those mechanisms. Now, what do we test 'em for?"
"For their use as a means of air transportation," Morrow answered. "Primarily, that is—there are probably a good many other possibilities."
"So how do we test 'em?" Smitty persisted. "How do you test any flight mechanism? You take it up in a plane, turn it on, and see how it works! So for thorough tests, including high-altitude performance, we'll need a plane with a pressurized cabin, big enough to hold our test equipment and the mechanisms. At the present market rates, you won't buy a plane like that for much less than fifteen thousand dollars!"