Table Of ContentThe Living Gem
Paul Charkin
1963
Brown, Watson Limited
London
THE LIVING GEM
How would people react to the fantastic Stone from Outer Space which, when
divided retains its original size, and which had the power to cure all diseases and
to compel its owner to speak the absolute truth?
The Health Police, tyrannical officers of Justice in a corrupt dictatorship,
realised the danger the Living Gem could be to them although unaware of its
origin and determined to prevent it’s use.
Copyright
THE LIVING GEM
A DIGIT BOOK
First published in Digit books 1963
This book is copyright. No portion of it may be
reproduced without written permission.
© by Paul Charkin 1963.
Digit Books are published by Brown, Watson Ltd.,
Digit House, Harlesden Road, London, N.W.10.
Printed and made in Great Britain by
Caldra House Ltd.,
23 Coleridge Street, Hove 3, Sussex.
1
Cosmic Intruder
TIM BRADLEY hurried through the drizzle towards the tiny wicket gate in the
barbed wire fence surrounding the site. He ran, slithered in the mud at the edge
of the road and, righting himself, peered through the dense fog of a chill
November morning at the vague outline of the uniformed guards. Waving his
pass, he made for the gate but was halted by a special constable.
“One moment, sir, would you remove your hat, please?”
Tim complied. “Don’t you recognise me?” he asked. “I’m Tim Bradley,
Professor Hertzl’s personal assistant.”
“O.K.,” replied the policeman. “I’m new here, and the light’s so bad this
morning, sir, we can’t see people until they’re right on top of us.”
Tim paused to light a cigarette and then continued in a brisk walk to a small
collection of Nissen huts that fringed the runway leading to the huge convex
launching site. In the half-light, one could just make out the giant rocket carrying
the capsule and apparatus for Project Wanderer. In two hours the count-down
would begin. He had hoped to see the rocket under much more favourable
weather conditions—picturing the nose cone lit by the pink light of dawn as the
fiery tail carried the roaring mass of metal to the cosmos.
An explosive body of comet-like proportions, christened by scientists
Wanderer X2, had entered the Solar System some two months earlier, on an
ellipse which would cross the Earth’s orbit within a matter of weeks. As it
approached the sun, it became obvious to astronomers that the material, thrown
off by the new intruder, was of unknown chemical composition. Spectrum
analysis had proved this—there was a marked displacement of Fraunhofer’s
lines—but whether this cosmic debris was radio active was quite another matter.
The explosive intruder appeared to have come from the depths of galactic space
and had probably taken thousands of years to reach the Solar System.
Its peculiar properties soon came to the notice of Professor Frederick Hertzl,
physicist and lecturer at Bern, Hanover and Prague, who had just published a
physicist and lecturer at Bern, Hanover and Prague, who had just published a
work on ‘… probable unknown elements outside the Solar System.’ Hertzl’s
revolutionary theories had created such an impact on the scientific world that the
British Government had allowed him to take over a derelict base, belonging to
NATO, in Southern England. It was occupied in order to capture some of the
material now nearing the Earth, by means of a space capsule, the timing of
which would be based on planetary opposition. This was Project Wanderer—
now waiting on the runway.
Frederick Hertzl, a balding man in the sixties, was in his office adjoining the
improvised observatory. On his desk was a large collection of spectrum prints on
the new project. As Tim came in, he continued his scrutiny—ignoring his
assistant’s “Morning, Prof!” for a couple of moments, then, wiping his bifocals,
he turned and smile.
“Yes, Bradley, my boy, it’s a near certainty. There is only one metal
producing a similar disturbance of the lines when incandescent—and that is
definitely radio active. Anyway, the probe will settle that! By the way, what’s
the weather like out there at the moment—fog or rain?”
“Well, a bit of both,” replied Tim, hastily removing his overcoat. “I must say
you seem pretty certain that our capsule will recover a chunk of that stuff.
Suppose we miss—after all, there’s hundreds of millions of miles involved.”
“True,” replied the Professor, “but the chain-style explosion of the debris, in
the planetoid-meteor’s tail, spreads over millions of miles of space beyond the
parent body. That should enable us to get hold of a piece large enough for
analysis.”
Bradley followed his chief to the large wall map of the Solar System and
together they traced the course of the new astral body. When the phone rang
Bradley answered it with a curt “Thank you!”
“The count-down starts in half an hour…” he announced.
*
It was now almost a month since the launching of the ‘space-probe’ with a
subsequent recovery of the capsule with its strange contents—material from the
explosive meteor. Professor Hertzl and Tim Bradley were at the special
laboratory assigned to the project. Hertzl, examining a small piece of dull, glassy
laboratory assigned to the project. Hertzl, examining a small piece of dull, glassy
material, looked up and beckoned to Tim.
“Well, Bradley, geiger counter tests have not registered any form of radiation,
but the Fraunhofer’s lines tests still suggest an emanation like that of many
heavier elements, including uranium. Yet, oddly enough, the wretched stuff
seems to be completely devoid of weight. It appears solid enough to sight and
touch—but absolutely weightless! It’s incredible! It must be of an element
hitherto unknown in the Solar System, at least in an incandescent form, and
certainly not occurring on this planet or the sun.”
“I suppose it could still be giving out an emanation, but would it be a harmful
one?” asked Bradley, staring at the extraordinary lump of white stone lying
beneath the Professor’s microscope. “After all, the geiger counter showed a
blank. Even if it is emitting an unknown form of emanation, this may be as
harmless as the cosmic rays which pass right through our bodies.”
“Well, we can’t be too sure about that,” replied Hertzl. “I wanted to play safe
before turning this thing over to the press and the world at large. In fact, I mean
to put this piece of outer galactic stone to a somewhat crude test. You come back
in about ten minutes and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“What exactly are you going to do with it?” asked the astonished Bradley.
“I’m merely going to divide it. Some substances as you know, give out quite a
strong emanation even when struck—let alone divided.”
“I’d rather watch, if you don’t mind?” said Tim.
“Then pass me a mallet and chisel,” the Professor replied, “I’ll soon settle all
doubts about emanation.”
A few moments late, the scientists, using rubber gloves, had the white stone
between tweezers. It was about three inches in length with a rough irregular
edge, something like a moonstone, though lacking the pearly gloss, dull grey in
colour. Hertzl gave it a hefty tap with the mallet and chisel. The unexpected
result left the two men awe stricken.
Where, only seconds before, there had been one three inch stone there were
now two three inch stones—each precisely the same size and thickness as that
original.
“It’s impossible!” exclaimed the Professor. “An illusion!”
“But … they’re both exactly the same size as the first piece,” cried Tim.
“Weigh them quickly. For heaven’s sake, we can’t both have gone round the
bend at the same time. It’s no illusion—the damned thing’s alive!!!” Weighing
didn’t solve anything. The two new pieces of stone failed to register anything on
the scales—even as had the parent stone.
“Shall we repeat the experiment?” asked the round eyed Bradley.
Hertzl seemed dazed. He kept wiping his spectacles and repeatedly asked Tim
if he could see them too.
“Impossible! Incredible!” he reiterated. “We must be sick—both of us. One
can have too much of this type of work. But I shouldn’t have thought that with
my experience … You did check those scales, Tim?”
“Yes. Three times, in fact, Professor,” replied Bradley, “It’s no illusion. The
thing has a kind of unique chemical life of its own. I could almost see it expend
as the chisel touched it … Could there be … perhaps inner life force controlling
its own identity. If there is, I reckon we’ve got it here!”
The Professor sank back in his chair. He seemed almost exhausted. He gazed
at the dome of the ceiling, murmuring abstractedly, “You know, ever since I was
a boy, I’ve felt that a good research man in the exact sciences should not forget
his dreams but put them to the test …” Lighting his pipe, he reflected for a
moment and continued, “I suppose Newton must have dreamt of an apple falling
upwards before he even started tinkering about with the ideas about gravity.”
2
The Girl from Sweden
The editor of U.N.A.C. otherwise known as the Astro Physical Commentary, ran
a pudgy hand through his straggly hair and rang for his secretary. Seconds later,
a tall, grey-eyed girl entered the room. With her striking Titian hair and contralto
voice, Nina Larsen could have made successful use of her dramatic ability on
any stage when she left her native Stockholm. Instead, she’d turned her back on
the theatre for journalism—in her case purely, but rarely humdrum, scientific
reporting. As top reporter on the only international scientific journal of any
importance, she had been present at all of the major events of recent years: from
the launching of the Pacific deep-bathyscaphe by the British, and the attempted
salvage of the trapped Lunar spaceship by the Americans, to the dispatch of the
first Martian expedition by the Russians. Her beauty, personality and accurate
reporting meant that she was inundated by requests, first for television
appearances and, just as often, with proposals of marriage. But, being an idealist,
Nina had one ambition, and that had so far eluded her. She wanted, oddly
enough, to head a U.N.O. Truce Commission. Now, as an editorial secretary, she
seemed to be further from her goal than ever.
“Miss Larsen, I want you to cover this matter personally,” said the editor. “It
appears that a research worker at Weathersfield, England, has launched a deep
space probe and isolated a hitherto unknown element with some quite incredible
properties. All the same, there are two possibilities that make the story worth
looking into. One is that someone is trying to pull a fast one and the other …
well, there is just a hope that …” he paused.
“That what?! asked Nina.
“That this peculiar emanation really exists. One that cannot be detected by any
known scientific means. Such a form of radiation would have, of course, quite
unique, if somewhat eerie potentialities. In the interest of International science
we must get there first!”
“Who’s in charge?” inquired Nina. “Anyone of importance?”
“A certain Professor Hertzl. The British picked him up in Switzerland. He
managed to get himself installed in a disused NATO launching site—now
dressed up as an observatory and laboratory combined. He’s put out a tentative
report on this new find of his. However guarded the terms—one can at least
gather that he thinks he’s on the track of some kind of major breakthrough …
wonder elements and all that …”
“Does he say whether it’s radio active?” asked Nina.
“Well, that appears to be one of the things he cannot establish for certain.
There appears to be an emanation of sorts—but the geiger counter doesn’t
register anything at all. Also, if his confidential telegram can be believed, he
hints that the new element is weightless.”
“Weightless …?” repeated Nina, now thoroughly intrigued. “How do you
mean …?”
“Well, he’s very vague. But, among the unique properties he mentions, are
atomic weight nil, yet having all the prismatic qualities associated with cut glass
or diamonds.”
“When do I leave?” asked Nina. “This story should prove well worth a trip to
England.”
“You’ll take the plane tonight. To make sure that the Americans and Russians
don’t get there first, we neutrals must step in in good time. To make matters
easier, I’ll allocate you an increased travel allowance—that’ll help smooth some
of the difficulties …”
“You mean difficult persons …” suggested Nina.
“Yes, exactly. Anyone, for instance, working with Hertzl. He has a very
competent assistant—a young astro-physicist named Bradley. I met him here in
Geneva last year—tall, dark and handsome … you know the type. You should be
able to pick up quite a bit from him. No need to tell you how.”
“Yes, I get you. What’s the British Government like over things like this? Are
they likely to put any obstacles in the way? Top secrecy … and all that. They
might be more suspicious of neutrals than ever at the moment.”
“That can easily be taken care of. Their officials are about as unscientific as a
load of charwomen. You should be able to twist them round your little finger.
Anyhow, I want the full facts on the new element before His Gracious Majesty’s
Government cashes in on it by selling the facts to the States—we owe that much
