Phil grinned. That was simple. "The formula is: i over b times a equals pi to the i times e over mu," he said.
"Ohhh, I'm sorry, sir," the announcer said sadly. "The basic formula for the manufacture of the atomic bomb is: E equals m times c squared. But you still have your fifty thousand dollars; congratulations and better luck next time."
Phil Merriwether blinked. He could hardly believe it. He knew his answer was right. There must be a mistake. But no amount of argument did him any good. Within fifteen minutes, he was out on the street. The studio had promised that the check would be deposited to his account in the morning. Phil shrugged and went home.
At midnight, Philip Merriwether woke up suddenly to see the glare of a flashlight being shone in his face.
"Are you Philip Merriwether?" growled a voice.
"Yes, I am. What's the meaning of this?"
The lights in the room went on to reveal five men with drawn guns standing outside the door. As they came into the room, the man with the flashlight flicked it off. "Search the room," he said to the others.
As they methodically began their search, Phil said: "What's going on here? Who are you?"