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“But she’ll do the job, all right. Isn’t she a beauty?”

Elshawe had his small pocket recorder going; he might as well get all this down. “Mr. Porter,” he asked carefully, “just how does this vessel propel itself? I understand that, at the trial, it was said that you claimed it was an antigravity device, but that you denied it.”

“Those idiots!” Porter exploded angrily. “Nobody understood what I was talking about because they wouldn’t listen! Antigravity! Pfui! When they learned how to harness electricity, did they call it anti-electricity? When they built the first atomic reactor, did they call it anti-atomic energy? A rocket works against gravity, but they don’t call that antigravity, do they? My device works with gravity, not against it.”

“What sort of device is it?” Elshawe asked.

“I call it the Gravito-Inertial Differential Polarizer,” Porter said importantly.

Elshawe was trying to frame his next question when Porter said: “I know the name doesn’t tell you much, but then, names never do, do they? You know what a transformer does, but what does the name by itself convey? Nothing, unless you know what it does in the first place. A cyclotron cycles something, but what? A broadcaster casts something abroad–what? And how?”

“I see. And the ‘how’ and ‘what’ is your secret, eh?”

“Partly. I can give you a little information, though. Suppose there were only one planet in all space, and you were standing on its surface. Could you tell if the planet were spinning or not? And, if so, how fast? Sure you could; you could measure the so-called centrifugal force. The same thing goes for a proton or electron or neutron or even a neutrino. But, if it is spinning, what is the spin relative to? To the particle itself? That’s obvious nonsense. Therefore, what is commonly called ‘inertia’ is as much a property of so-called ’empty space’ as it is a property of matter. My device simply utilizes spatial inertia by polarizing it against the matter inertia of the ship, that’s all.”

“Hm-m-m,” said Elshawe. As far as his own knowledge of science went, that statement made no sense whatever. But the man’s manner was persuasive. Talking to him, Elshawe began to have the feeling that Porter not only knew what he was talking about, but could actually do what he said he was going to do.

“What’s that?” Porter asked sharply, looking up into the sky.

Elshawe followed his gaze. “That” was a Cadillac aircar coming over a ridge in the distance, its fans making an ever-louder throaty hum as it approached. It settled down to an altitude of three feet as it neared, and floated toward them on its cushion of air. On its side, Elshawe could see the words, UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT, and beneath that, in smaller letters, Civil Aeronautics Authority.

“Now what?” Porter muttered softly. “I haven’t notified anyone of my intentions yet–not officially.”

“Sometimes those boys don’t wait for official notification,” Elshawe said.

Porter glanced at him, his eyes narrowed. “You didn’t say anything, did you?”

“Look, Mr. Porter, I don’t play that way,” Elshawe said tightly. “As far as I’m concerned, this is your show; I’m just here to get the story. You did us a favor by giving us advance notice; why should we louse up your show for you?”

“Sorry,” Porter said brusquely. “Well, let’s make a good show of it.”

The CAA aircar slowed to a halt, its fans died, and it settled to its wheels.

* * * * *

Two neatly dressed, middle-aged men climbed out. Both were carrying briefcases. Porter walked briskly toward them, a warm smile on his face; Elshawe tagged along behind. The CAA men returned Porter’s smile with smiles that could only be called polite and businesslike.

Porter performed the introductions, and the two men identified themselves as Mr. Granby and Mr. Feldstein, of the Civil Aeronautics Authority.