Into the Air!
IT WAS not long afterward that the location of our plant became known to the public. A strange plane, flying low, circled the field and took its own time getting away. People eagerly responded to its news. During the next week automobiles by the thousand braved the rocky trails leading to the plant, and folks by the hundreds peered curiously through the wire fence at the manifold and mysterious preparations to harness nature's mighty forces.
The newspapers of the entire country teemed with conjectures and declarations as wild and fantastic as the Professor's scheme itself.
Airplanes began to circle and maneuver above us during every hour of the day and night. But we spread canvasses over the most important machinery where the men worked unobserved.
By the fifteenth of November everything was at last complete. I shall never forget the day, the crazy delight of the Professor as he went about testing the intricate machines, the air of awe and mystery that kept the workmen silent, and my own wonder, enthusiasm and yet doubt that the experiment would succeed. Thus far the project had cost me a mint of money which I did not begrudge, if the thing only proved a success. But how could such a thing succeed?
I roamed about over the great artificial island, looking over the wonderful oscillators, condensers, transformers, and so on. I knew their office but vaguely, knowing only that they transmitted the power to operate the gravity deflector. Their number and size were bewildering surrounded as they were by diverse other machinery whose nature I could not guess.
At each corner and in its center the island rested on a solid copper pier ten feet in height and about a foot in diameter, and at the points of contact on the island itself were magnet-like apparatus. On the ground near each pier was a dynamo whose current was supplied by a central power-house. There were also many amplifiers and projectors of peculiar construction. The whole fabric beneath my feet with its network of wires and steel and machinery was so heavy that the idea of projecting it into the sky and holding it there suspended like a great captive balloon without the aid of gas or lifting wings appalled me. Only my faith in the Professor's uncanny power made me hope it might succeed.
Not a plane was to be seen in the sky save Greta's which kept diving and circling far above us, and it was still too early for the curious crowds from town. Except the workmen, the Professor and myself there was not a soul in sight. The Professor confided to me that he was glad we were alone. I understood. If the thing should fail he would save himself from the ridicule of the world.
When all was in readiness the Professor, looking very grave and a little pale, beckoned to me silently, and I followed him up the ladder on board the island. He had just been over the whole thing thoroughly and had given last minute instructions to his engineers.
"If anything happens, Bob," he said quietly, "Greta will pick us up with the plane. But I don't look for anything untoward to happen," he added confidently.
We paused near the center of the island. The Professor gave a final look around and over this marvelous child of his brain.
"God, how I wish McCann were here to share the glory with us," he said sadly. "Poor McCann, some dire tragedy must have overtaken him. I would give anything now to recall my harsh words."
Then he put a whistle to his lips and blew shrilly. For the fraction of a second nothing happened, then the fabric beneath us trembled. There was a hiss, a sputter, an upward flash of fire, a shower of sparks through the frame-work, a drone of the dynamos, like the hum of a million bees, and we began to move. Slowly, almost imperceptibly at first, then we shot upward with sickening suddenness. Up, up we went on a level keel. I felt but a slight tremor and only the rush of air proclaimed that we were rushing heavenward with terrible speed.
The Professor grabbed me and hugged me in a frenzy of joy, for the time being too much overcome to speak. And all I could do was to stare at him in speechless wonder. Suddenly he drew back and touched a button on the corner mast. Instantly our motion was arrested. The island rocked gently a few times, then came to rest without a jar. The altimeter showed us to be up one thousand feet. Looking down through the steel work I saw the workmen staring up at us. There we rode in the air as steady as a duck on a millpond, sustained by the invisible force of gravitation.
Greta landed her plane, rushed up and embraced her brother.
"Oh, Gustave," she cried, "I did not think you could do it--I am so sorry that I ever doubted you; that I--" She paused as she looked away a dark shadow in her eyes.
"Never mind," said the Professor.
"Oh, Bob, isn't this wonderful?" she said turning to me.
"It is more than that. At a time like this, words fail us."
"I am wondering whether I dare try a little stunt," said the Professor. "And do you folks know that we could go on up to the moon if we wanted to?" he added mysteriously. "But enough for today. We will return to the earth. I see other and greater marvels just ahead of us."
As the girl and I gazed in awe at this remarkable man he manipulated the machinery again and we descended slowly and easily landing exactly on the points of the piers. The workmen clustered around their employer showering him with congratulations.
The Professor Triumphant
WELL, that night I couldn't sleep for thinking of that wonderful exploit and the fact that the Professor hinted at other wonders hidden up his sleeve. Would man ultimately conquer all the laws of the universe? Was there no limit to his power? Preposterous as it seemed I answered these amazing questions in the affirmative. Fulfilling the scriptures, man was to become as gods.
And now the Professor, athrill with triumph and enthused over the future outlook of his aerial islands, invited everybody to come out into the wilderness and witness man's latest conquest over mother nature.
The day was set and widely advertised. Scientists from all over America were tendered special invitations, as well as many statesmen. The professor sent Van Beck a messenger urging him to be present.
The whole nation was dumfounded by the announcement, but almost every one treated the matter as a huge hoax and questioned Professor Stiener's sanity.
But they came by thousands--coming by plane and automobile, on horseback and on foot. The woods surrounding the high fence was black with people. But, of course, no one was permitted inside the fence. Even Professor Van Beck, who seemed to consider himself a special guest, was forced to peer through the fence and reach between its wires to give the Professor the handclasp of congratulation.
"My dear Professor," he said with an injured air, "one would think you would make an exception in the case of an old pal."
"There can be no exceptions," replied the Professor tartly.
"Do you expect forever to keep this great secret locked in your own breast?"
"Until every feature is protected by patent," returned the Professor meaningly.
I could see that this answer cut Van Beck to the quick, but he said nothing and in a minute he moved away shaking his head and mingled with the crowd.
The demonstration was a success in every way. Both islands were raised simultaneously. They were partly lowered, then raised again alternately, shot into the air until they appeared as small dark specks in the blue sky. And finally they were landed safely and noiselessly on their piers.
The Professor was wild with enthusiasm and joy. He bowed again and again as the milling crowds cheered madly. Often he ran over to Van Beck where he stood with his face pressed against the wire and boasted of the complete success of his great venture. It was plain to be seen that the Professor was gloating over the Dutchman. At last he had succeeded in making and utilizing a great discovery without his butting in. But Van Beck did not stint his praise.
"I rejoice with you, my friend," he said heartily. "Great wealth and endless fame are yours. It is marvelous, marvelous--and it is just."
The immense crowd left reluctantly. Long after nightfall knots of excited and awe-struck people lingered about the refreshment stands and stood peering curiously through the fence discussing the miracle which had taken place before their eyes.
But there was a fly in the ointment of the Professor's happiness--he bitterly regretted that McCann was not there to witness the climax of his work.
Owing to the success of the demonstration and the fact that the press of the entire country had spread its description far and wide, the Professor seized the opportunity to launch a stock company to exploit his invention whose scope and possibilities, he averred, were well nigh limitless. But he pointed out that its initial work would be in the field of the airplane. A line of his islands would be placed along every plane route. Machines would refuel and make repairs in the air. In the air, the islands would act as guideposts by day, and at night their beacons would flash out to cheer and guide the aviators on their way. Should storms arise the islands would be shot above the storm, and here in a haven of refuge the plane could rest and make necessary adjustments and repairs if need be. Its passengers could leave the cabin for a few minutes, walk about and procure refreshments and many luxuries right on the island.
"And that is not all the wonders I have in mind," said the Professor with shining eyes as he unfolded the plan to me. "Think of an airplane without any motive power. I am not thinking of gliders," he added with a deprecatory wave of the hand. "I am thinking of an airplane sailing through the air without any motor or other visible means of locomotion, controlled by power stations on earth which can be fifty miles or more apart, through the medium of my device located on the plane. The future plane, disabled in the air, will not fall like a plummet and crash, or have to glide down and make a forced landing for repairs," he went on eagerly. "It simply will radio to the nearest hangar island, a repair plane will then slip off through the air, hitch to the nose of the disabled plane and tow it to the island just the same as crippled autos are now towed to a garage."
Accustomed as I was to listening to the wonderful plans of my friend I could only sit and stare dumbly over this new scheme. Where would that mighty brain finally lead this man? And for the first time I began to fear the final results of his work. If he were able to perform such miracles they might lead him on and on to new fields and triumphs until grasping unseen and undreamed of forces he might innocently usher in a planetary catastrophe.