More difficult was the problem of the nitrogenous foodstuffs; but here again the ingenuity of the chalk-faces had proved equal to the task. I was never able to understand by exactly what process they had succeeded in combining nitrogen with oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and other substances to form albumin; but it is certain that this is precisely what they did, fusing the elements by means of an electric current and several catalytic agents, whose nature I was unable to learn.
Let me say, at this point, that I made every effort to find out; but the formula was the carefully guarded secret of the National Food Producers, Unlimited, a privately owned corporation, which was forbidden by law to tell the people the truth about the food they ate. Hence my efforts not only met with no success, but were so resented that I was threatened by the Company with imprisonment on the charge of unpatriotic activities.
In other fields, however, I was better able to satisfy my curiosity. I learned something of the power-system, by means of which the chalk-faces kept their factories running, excavated and illuminated the galleries, and conducted their warfare; I was told that they generated electrical energy in part from the flow of underground rivers, and in part by means of a chemical discovery made so long ago that no one remembered the inventor. This was the compound knows as Mulflar, an explosive at times beneficial, and at times annihilating in its effects.
Once again I was unable to discover the formula, for this was the exclusive property of the National Power Producers, who found it their most lucrative source of dividends, and had long ago succeeded in passing a law prohibiting themselves from making the facts public. The general principles underlying the invention, however, were well known. Mulflar was made by the union of nitrogen, phosphorus, magnesium, and sulphur with carbon, hydrogen, and one or two other elements in a compound both simply and easily produced. Its distinctive feature was its chemical unstability; its atoms would disintegrate and explode upon the slightest shock or upon the application of a spark, releasing a prodigious amount of energy through the conversion of that active element, hydrogen, into the chemically inert helium.
So great was the explosive power of Mulflar that a single gram, properly directed, was capable of blowing a hundred pounds of rock or iron to the height of half a mile. Naturally, a substance so dangerous had to be carefully controlled; and though accidents sometimes did occur, resulting in the occasional loss of a few hundred lives, in general it was highly adaptable to industrial uses. Shot off in small quantities in cannon-like tubes of specially prepared steel, it was used to set great dynamos into action, and consequently to furnish the larger part of the electricity indispensable to life. It was the energy of Mulflar, passed into storage batteries, that made it possible to run those little coaster-like cars with which I had had such a frightening experience; it was the energy of Mulflar that kept the lights and the ventilation in operation, that ran the food and clothing factories, and that pumped fresh water into pipes throughout the length and depth of the land.
But, at the same time, it was the energy of Mulflar that proved to be the worst enemy of the people. Never had I seen more convincing proof of how the most beneficial inventions may be transformed into engines of destruction! For it was Mulflar that accounted for the deadliness of the warfare waged by the chalk-faces; it was Mulflar that had produced those lightnings which Clay and I had watched in such fascinated horror; it was Mulflar that had supplied the motive-power for the land-battleships; it was Mulflar that had blown those gigantic machines to tatters. And it was Mulflar that was responsible for even more horrendous implements, which I was later to observe.
But before I report my discoveries in this regard, I must describe other peculiarities of the chalk-faces. And I must tell of one saddening conversation which I had with Loa and her father—a conversation which crushed one lingering spark of hope that had survived until then in the face of all discouragements.
This was in connection with my friend Clay. Hardly an hour went by but that I thought of him and his disappearance; hardly an hour but that I wondered whether he were alive or dead. True, I had heard nothing of him; but he might have been safe and well only a stone's throw away, and I would not have known it, since, at the time, I was confined in the Professor's house as closely as in a prison. Consequently, as soon as I was able to speak a few words in the native language, I asked about my friend.
The result could not have been more disappointing. Both Professor Tan Trum and his daughter looked astonished when they understood the nature of my inquiry. "What!" gasped my protector, with a sincerity that I could not question. "You say there were two like you? I wish there were! That would double the opportunities for verification of my theories!"