The Mercenaries | Page 4

worked for Associated Enterprises, whose
president, Blake Hartley, had later become President of the United States. The hard-won
victory over a seemingly insoluble problem in the Belgian Congo uranium mines----He
thought, too, of the dangers they had faced together, in a world where soldiers must use
the weapons of science and scientists must learn the arts of violence. Of the treachery of
the Islamic Kaliphate, for whom they had once worked; of the intrigues and plots which
had surrounded them in Spain; of the many attempted kidnappings and assassinations; of
the time in Basra when they had fought with pistols and tommy guns and snatched-up
clubs and flasks of acid to defend their laboratories.
A good team--before the rot of treason had touched it. He could almost smell the putrid
stench of it, and yet, as he glanced from face to face, he could not guess the traitor. And
he had so little time--
* * * * *
Kato Sugihara's voice rose to dominate the murmur of conversation around the table.
"I think I am getting somewhere on my photon-neutrino-electron interchange-cycle," he
announced. "And I think it can be correlated to the collapsed-matter research."
"So?" von Heldenfeld looked up in interest. "And not with the problem of what goes on
in the 'hot layer' surrounding the Earth?"
"No, Suzanne talked me out of that idea," the Japanese replied. "That's just a secondary

effect of the effect of cosmic rays and solar radiations on the order of particles existing at
that level. But I think that I have the key to the problem of collapsing matter to plate the
hull of the spaceship."
"That's interesting," Sir Neville Lawton commented. "How so?"
"Well, you know what happens when a photon comes in contact with the atomic structure
of matter," Kato said. "There may be an elastic collision, in which the photon merely
bounces off. Macroscopically, that's the effect we call reflection of light. Or there may be
an inelastic collision, when the photon hits an atom and knocks out an electron--the old
photoelectric effect. Or, the photon may be retained for a while and emitted again
relatively unchanged--the effect observed in luminous paint. Or, the photon may
penetrate, undergo a change to a neutrino, and either remain in the nucleus of the atom or
pass through it, depending upon a number of factors. All this, of course, is old stuff; even
the photon-neutrino interchange has been known since the mid-'50s, when the Gamow
neutrino-counter was developed. But now we come to what you have been so good as to
christen the Sugihara Effect--the neutrino picking up a negative charge and, in effect,
turning into an electron, and then losing its charge, turning back into a neutrino, and then,
as in the case of metal heated to incandescence, being emitted again as a photon.
"At first, we thought this had no connection with the spaceship insulation problem we are
under contract to work out, and we agreed to keep this effect a Team secret until we
could find out if it had commercial possibilities. But now, I find that it has a direct
connection with the collapsed-matter problem. When the electron loses its negative
charge and reverts to a neutrino, there is a definite accretion of interatomic binding-force,
and the molecule, or the crystalline lattice or whatever tends to contract, and when the
neutrino becomes a photon, the nucleus of the atom contracts."
* * * * *
Heym ben-Hillel was sitting oblivious to everything but his young colleague's words, a
slice of the flesh of the unclean beast impaled on his fork and halfway to his mouth.
"Yes! Certainly!" he exclaimed. "That would explain so many things I have wondered
about: And of course, there are other forces at work which, in the course of nature,
balance that effect--"
"But can the process be controlled?" Suzanne Maillard wanted to know. "Can you
convert electrons to neutrinos and then to photons in sufficient numbers, and eliminate
other effects that would cause compensating atomic and molecular expansion?"
Kato grinned, like a tomcat contemplating the bones of a fish he has just eaten.
"Yes, I can. I have." He turned to MacLeod. "Remember those bullets I got from you?"
he asked.
MacLeod nodded. He handloaded for his .38-special, and like all advanced cases of
handloading-fever, he was religiously fanatical about uniformity of bullet weights and

dimensions. Unlike most handloaders, he had available the instruments to secure such
uniformity.
"Those bullets are as nearly alike as different objects can be," Kato said. "They weigh
158 grains, and that means one-five-eight-point-zero-zero-zero-practically-nothing. The
diameter is .35903 inches. All right; I've been subjecting those bullets to different
radiation-bombardments, and the best results have given me a bullet with a diameter
of .35892 inches, and the weight is unchanged. In other