Айзек Азимов - Before The Golden Age

by Cap. S. P. Meek

After many weary months of toil my task has been completed. As the sun sank to rest today, I soldered up the last connection on my Electronic Vibration Adjuster and in the fading twilight I tested it. It functions perfectly and as soon as the sun rises tomorrow I will leave this plane, I hope forever. I had originally intended to disappear without trace, as I did once before, but as I sit here waiting for the dawn, such a course seems hardly fair. This plane has treated me pretty well on the whole and I really ought to leave behind me some record of my discoveries and of my adventures, possibly the strangest adventures through which a man of this plane has ever passed. Besides, it will help to pass the time which must elapse before I can start on my journey.

My name is Courtney Edwards. I was born thirty-four years ago in the city of Honolulu, the only child of the richest sugar planter in the Islands. When I arrived at high school age I was sent to the mainland to be educated and here I have stayed. The death of my parents left me wealthy and rather disinclined to return to the home of my youth.

I did my bit in the Air Corps during the war and when it was over I shed my olive drab and went back to the University of Minneconsin to finish my education. My interest in science started when I attended a lecture on the composition of matter. It was a popular lecture intended for non-science students, and so it wasn’t over my head. Dr. Harvey, one of our most popular professors, was the speaker and to this day I can visualize him standing there and can even recall some of his words.

“To give you some idea of the size of an atom,” he said, “I will take for an example a cubic millimeter of hydrogen gas at a temperature of 0 degrees Centigrade and at sea-level pressure. It contains roughly ninety quadrillions of atoms, an almost inconceivable number. Consider this enormous number of particles packed into a cube with an edge less than one-twentieth of an inch long; yet so small are the individual atoms compared with the space between them that the solar system is crowded in comparison.

“In order to get at the ultimate composition of matter, however, we are forced to consider even smaller units. An atom is not a solid particle of matter, but instead consists of smaller particles called protons and electrons. The protons are particles of positive electricity which exist at the center or the nucleus of the atoms and the electrons are particles of negative electricity some of which revolve about the central portion and in most elements some are in the nucleus. Each of these particles is as small compared to the space between them as is the case with the atoms in the molecule.”

I left the lecture hall with my head in a whirl. My imagination had been captured by the idea of counting and measuring such infinitesimal particles and I went to Dr. Harvey’s office the next day and sought an interview.

“I wish to ask some questions relative to your talk last night, Doctor,” I said when I faced him.

His kindly grey eyes twinkled and he invited me to be seated.

“As I understood you, Doctor,” I began, “the space between the atoms and between the electrons and protons in each atom is so vast compared to their bulk that if you were to jam the protons and electrons of a cubic mile of gas together until they touched, you couldn’t see the result with a microscope.”

“Your idea is crudely expressed, but in the main accurate,” he answered.

“Then what in the name of common sense holds them apart?” I demanded.

“Each of the atoms,” he replied, “is in a state of violent motion, rushing through space with a high velocity and continually colliding with other atoms and rebounding until it strikes another atom and rebounds again. The electrons are also in a state of violent motion, revolving around the protons and this combination of centrifugal force and electrical attraction holds the atom in a state of dynamic equilibrium.”

“One more question, Doctor, and I’ll quit. Are these things you have told me cold sober fact susceptible of proof, or are they merely the results of an overactive imagination?”

He smiled and then leaned over his desk and answered gravely.

“Some of them are solid facts which I can prove to you in the laboratory,” he said. “For instance, you, yourself, with proper training could count the number of atoms in a given volume. Other things I have said are merely theories or shrewd guesses which best explain the facts which we know. There is in physical chemistry a tremendous field of work open for men who have the ability and the patience to investigate. No one knows what the future may bring forth.”

The Doctor’s evident enthusiasm communicated itself to me.

“I’ll be one of the ones to do this work if you’ll have me as a student!” I exclaimed.

“I’ll be very glad to have you, Edwards,” he replied. “I believe you have the ability and the will. Time alone will tell whether you have the patience.”

I resigned from my course the next day and enrolled as a special student under Dr. Harvey. After a period of intensive study of methods, I was ready to plunge into the unknown. The work of Bohr and Langmuir especially attracted me, and I bent my energies to investigating the supposed motion of the electrons about the nuclear protons. This line of investigation led me to the suspicion that the motion was not circular and steady, but was periodic and simple harmonic except as the harmonic periods were interfered with by the frequent collisions.

I devised an experiment which proved this to my satisfaction and took my results to Dr. Harvey for checking. He took my data home with him that night intending to read it in bed as was his usual custom, but from that bed he never rose. Death robbed me of my preceptor and Dr. Julius became the head of the Chemistry Department. I took my results to him only to meet with scorn and laughter. Dr. Julius was an able analyst, but he lacked vision and could never see the woods for the trees. The result of my interview with him was that I promptly left Minneconsin, and resolved to carry on my work at another school.

The problem on which I wished to work was the reduction of the period of vibration of the atoms and of their constituent parts. If my theory of their motion were correct, it should be possible to damp their vibrations and thus collapse matter together and make it occupy a smaller volume in space. I soon found that men like Dr. Harvey were scarce. Not a man at the head of a university department could I find who had the vision to see the possibilities of my work and in a rage I determined to conduct my experiments alone and hidden from the world until I had proved the truth of my theories.

I was still flying for amusement and one day while flying from Salt Lake City to San Francisco, I passed over a verdant fertile valley hidden in the almost inaccessible crags of the Timpahute range in southern Nevada. I abandoned my trip temporarily and landed at Beatty to make inquiries. Not a person could I find who had ever heard of my hidden valley. Even the old desert rats professed ignorance of its location and laughed at me when I told them that I had seen flowing water and deciduous trees in the barren stretches of the Timpahutes.

I had taken the bearings of my valley and I flew on to San Francisco and made my arrangements. I flew back to Beatty and picked up a pack outfit and landed at the foot of the crags sheltering the valley and started on foot to seek an entrance. It took me a month of careful searching to find it, but find it I did. With a little blasting, the way could be made practicable for pack burros. The stuff I had ordered at San Francisco had been delivered to Beatty and I hired packers to take it out to the Timpahutes for me. I established a dump about a mile from my valley entrance and had the stuff unloaded there. When the packers had left I took my own burros and packed it in to the valley. I didn’t care to have anyone find out where I was locating and so far as I know no one ever did.