"Are all taken care of," insisted Gary, "if you will accept my new major premise." He pondered, briefly, how best to state his idea. Then: "Let us suppose," he said, "you are standing in the center of a floor in a large room. The walls of this room, activated by some machine, are moving away from you. If you could measure this motion spectroscopically, you would observe the phenomenon of the 'red shift'—right?"
Dr. Bryant nodded. "Yes, Gary. That is, in effect, the relationship of our galaxy to the Greater Universe as now conceived."
"Quite. But—" said Gary—"suppose that you stood motionless in that same room, and some strange force acted on you to shrink you! Then what would you see?"
The girl's eyes widened. She cried, "A—a universe running away from you!"
"And your spectroscopic analysis—?"
"Would show the red shift!" Nora whirled to the two older men. "Dr. Bryant ... Dr. Anjers ... he's right! Now I see what the pictures meant! The comet, entering our contracting galaxy, changed its course sharply—"
The foreign scientist's eyes clouded with impatience behind their heavy lids. He smiled commiseratingly. "A very interesting conjecture, my young friend. But it is fool-hardy to reason on such flimsy evidence. Your camera, despite your belief, may have shaken ... your spectroscope may have been out of adjustment ... any one of a thousand things." A chubby hand dipped swiftly into Gary's briefcase, drew forth a flat, circular tin of film. "Is this the roll on which—?"
"Don't do that!" Gary literally screamed the words, leaping forward barely in time to prevent the older scientist from opening the container. Rudely he swept the tin from Dr. Anjers' grasp, swiftly inspected the thin line of metal seal. Only after he had satisfied himself that it was intact did he think to apologize. Then: "You must forgive me, sir, please. But these are supplementary exposures; they have not yet been developed."
The small man nodded understandingly. "The fault is mine, Dr. Lane. Forgive me."