“And its effect?”

“Simple. It will be a negative neutrino field. Ordinary matter will not be affected at all. Only the… neutrino structures will be destroyed. You see?”

Snow gave me a satisfied grin. I stood stock-still and gaping, so that he stopped smiling, looked at me with a frown, and waited a moment before speaking:

“We abandon the first plan then, the ‘Brainwave’ plan? Sartorius is working on the other one right now. We’ll call it ‘Project Liberation.’ “

I had to make a quick decision. Snow was no physicist, and Sartorius’s videophone was disconnected or smashed. I took the chance:

“I’d rather call the second idea ‘Operation Slaughterhouse.’ “

“And you ought to know! Don’t tell me you haven’t had some practice lately. Only there’ll be a radical difference this time — no more visitors, no more Phi-creatures — they will disintegrate as soon as they appear.”

I nodded, and managed what I hoped was a convincing smile:

“You haven’t got the point. Morality is one thing, but self-preservation… I just don’t want to get us killed, Snow.”

He stared back at me suspiciously, as I showed him my scribbled equations:

“I’ve been working along the same lines. Don’t look so surprised. The neutrino theory was my idea in the first place, remember? Look. Negative fields can be generated all right. And ordinary matter is unaffected. But what happens to the energy that maintains the neutrino structure when it disintegrates? There must be a considerable release of that energy. Assuming a kilogram of ordinary matter represents 10^8 ergs, for a Phi-creation we get 5^7 multiplied by 10^8. That means the equivalent of a small atomic bomb exploding inside the Station.”

“You mean to tell me Sartorius won’t have been over all this?”

It was my turn to grin maliciously:

“Not necessarily. Sartorius follows the Frazer-Cajolla school. Their theories would indicate that the energy potential would be given off in the form of light — powerful, yes, but not destructive. But that isn’t the only theory of neutrino fields. According to Cayatte, and Avalov, and Sion, the radiation-spectrum would be much broader. At its maximum, there would be a strong burst of gamma radiation. Sartorius has faith in his tutors. I don’t say we can’t respect that, but there are other tutors, and other theories. And another thing, Snow,” — I could see him beginning to waver — “we have to bear in mind the ocean itself! It is bound to have used the optimum means of designing its creations. It seems to me that we can’t afford to back Sartorius against the ocean as well as the other theories.”

“Give me that paper, Kelvin.”

I passed it to him, and he poured over my equations.

“What’s this?” He pointed to a line of calculations.

“That? The transformation tensor of the magnetic field.”

“Give it here.”

“Why?” (I already knew his reply.)

“I’ll have to show Sartorius.”

“If you say so,” I shrugged. “You’re welcome to it, naturally, provided you realize that these theories have never been tested experimentally: neutrino structures have been abstractions until now. Sartorius is relying on Frazer, and I’ve followed Sion’s theory. He’ll say I’m no physicist, or Sion either, not from his point of view, at least. He will dispute my figures, and I’m not going to get into the kind of argument where he tries to browbeat me for his own satisfaction. You, I can convince. I couldn’t begin to convince Sartorius, and I have no intention of trying.”

“Then what do you want to do? He’s already started work…”

All his earlier animation had subsided, and he spoke in a monotone. I did not know if he trusted me, and I did not much care:

“What do I want to do? Whatever a man does when his life is in danger.”

“I’ll try to contact him. Maybe he can develop some kind of safety device… And then there’s the first plan. Would you cooperate? Sartorius would agree, I’m sure of it. At least it’s worth a try.”

“You think so?”

“No,” he snapped back. “But what have we got to lose?”

I was in no hurry to accept. It was time that I needed, and Snow could help me to prolong the delay:

“I’ll think about it.”

“Okay, I’m going.” His bones creaked as he got up. “We’ll have to begin with the encephalogram,” he said, rubbing at his overall as if to get rid of some invisible stain.

Without a word to Rheya, he walked to the door, and after it had closed behind him I got up and crumpled the sheet of paper in my hand. I had not falsified the equations, but I doubted whether Sion would have agreed with my extensions of his theory. I started abruptly, as Rheya’s hand touched my shoulder.

“Kris, who is he?”

“I told you, Dr. Snow.”

“What’s he like?”

“I don’t know him very well… why?”

“He was giving me such a strange look.”

“So you’re an attractive woman….”

“No, this was a different sort of look… as if….” She trembled, looked up at me momentarily, then lowered her eyes. “Let’s go back to the cabin.”

9 THE LIQUID OXYGEN

I have no idea how long I had been lying in the dark, staring at the luminous dial of my wristwatch. Hearing myself breathing. I felt a vague surprise, but my underlying feeling was one of profound indifference both to this ring of phosphorescent figures and to my own surprise. I told myself that the feeling was caused by fatigue. When I turned over, the bed seemed wider than usual. I held my breath; no sound broke the silence. Rheya’s breathing should have been audible. I reached out, but felt nothing. I was alone.

I was about to call her name, when I heard the tread of heavy footsteps coming towards me. A numb calm descended:

“Gibarian?”

“Yes, it’s me. Don’t switch the light on.”

“No?”

“There’s no need, and it’s better for us to stay in the dark.”

“But you are dead…”

“Don’t let that worry you. You recognize my voice, don’t you?”

“Yes. Why did you kill yourself?”

“I had no choice. You arrived four days late. If you had come earlier, I would not have been forced to kill myself. Don’t worry about it, though, I don’t regret anything.”

“You really are there? I’m not asleep?”

“Oh, you think you’re dreaming about me? As you did with Rheya?”

“Where is she?”

“How should I know?”

“I have a feeling that you do.”

“Keep your feelings for yourself. Let’s say I’m deputizing for her.”

“I want her here too!”

“Not possible.”

“Why not? You know very well that it isn’t the real you, just my…”

“No, I am the real Gibarian — just a new incarnation. But let’s not waste time on useless chatter.”

“You’ll be leaving again?”

“Yes.”

“And then she’ll come back?”

“Why should you care about that?”

“She belongs to me.”

“You are afraid of her.”

“No.”

“She disgusts you.”

“What do you want with me?”

“Save your pity for yourself — you have a right to it — but not for her. She will always be twenty years old. You must know that.”

I felt suddenly at ease again, for no apparent reason, and ready to hear him out. He seemed to have come closer, though I could not see him in the dark.

“What do you want?”

“Sartorius has convinced Snow that you have been deceiving him. Right now they are trying to give you the same treatment. Building the X-ray beamer is a cover for constructing a magnetic field disruptor.”

“Where is she?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I came to warn you.”

“Where is she?”

“I don’t know. Be careful. You must find some kind of weapon. You can’t trust anyone.”

“I can trust Rheya.”

He stifled a laugh: “Of course, you can trust Rheya — to some extent. And you can always follow my example, if all else fails.”