FullReads

“Is it a question of money?” Olcott asked quietly.

Bending shook his head. “Not at all. We’ve already agreed that I could make as much as I want by selling it to you. No; it’s just that I’m an idealist of sorts. I intend to manufacture the Converter myself, in order to make sure it gets into the hands of the people.”

“I assure you, Mr. Bending, that Power Utilities would do just that–as soon as it became economically feasible for us to do so.”

“I doubt it,” Sam Bending said flatly. “If any group has control over the very thing that’s going to put them out of business, they don’t release it; they sit on it. Dictators, for instance, have throughout history, promised freedom to their people ‘as soon as it was feasible’. Cincinnatus may have done it, but no one else has in the last twenty-five centuries.

“What do you suppose would have happened in the 1940s if the movie moguls of Hollywood had had the patent rights for television? How many other inventions actually have been held down simply because the interested parties did happen to get their hands on them first?

“No, Mr. Olcott; I don’t think I can allow Power Utilities to have a finger in this pie or the public would never get a slice of it.”

Olcott stood up slowly from the chair. “I see, Mr. Bending; you’re quite frank about your views, anyway.” He paused. “I shall have to talk this over with the Board. There must be some way of averting total disaster. If we find one, we’ll let you know, Mr. Bending.”

* * * * *

And that was it. That was the line that had stuck in the back of Bending’s mind for two weeks. If we find a way of averting total disaster, we’ll let you know, Mr. Bending.

And they evidently thought they’d found a way. For two weeks, there had been phone calls from officers of greater or lesser importance in Power Utilities, but they all seemed to think that if they could offer enough money, Sam Bending would capitulate. Finally, they had taken the decisive step of stealing the Converter. Bending wondered how they had known where it was; he had taken the precaution of concealing it, just in case there might be an attempt at robbery, and using it as power supply for the lab had seemed the best hiding place. But evidently someone at Power Utilities had read Poe’s “Purloined Letter,” too.

He smiled grimly. Even if the police didn’t find any clues leading them to the thieves who’d broken into his lab, the boys at Power Utilities would find themselves in trouble. The second they started to open the Converter, it would begin to fuse. If they were quick, whoever opened it should be able to get away from it before it melted down into an unrecognizable mass.

Sam Bending took the tape from the playback and returned it to his files.

He wondered how the Power Utilities boys had managed to find where the Converter was. Checking the power that had been used by Bending Consultants? Possibly. It would show that less had been used in the past two weeks than was normally the case. Only the big building next door was still using current from the power lines. Still, that would have meant that they had read the meter in the last two weeks, which, in turn, meant that they had been suspicious in the first place or they wouldn’t have ordered an extra reading.

On the other hand, if–

The visiphone rang.

It was the phone with the unregistered number, a direct line that didn’t go through his secretary’s switchboard.

He flipped it on. “Yes?” He never bothered to identify himself on that phone; anyone who had the number knew who they were calling. The mild-looking, plumpish, blond-haired man whose face came onto the screen was immediately recognizable.