"We owe you some thanks," Adam told Smokey. "My wife doesn't feel up to it now, but she'll tell you herself later." It required an effort to be polite because Adam still resented bitterly the auto dealer's blackmailing tactics. Reason told him, however, that without Smokey on hand he might have fared worse.
Then Adam remembered his anger at Erica inside. Something else she had done, he realized, had been to put him at the mercy of Smokey Stephensen.
Smokey grinned and removed his cigar. "No need for thanks. So long as you keep your side of the bargain."
"It will be kept."
"Just one thing, and maybe you'll tell me it's none of my business, but don't be too hard on your wife."
"You're right," Adam said, "it is none of your business."
The auto dealer went on unperturbed, "People do funny things for funny reasons. Worth a second look sometimes to find out what the reasons really were."
"If I ever need some amateur psychology, I'll call you." Adam turned away. "Goodnight."
Thoughtfully, Smokey watched him go.
***
They had driven half the way to Quarton Lake.
"You haven't said anything," Erica said. "Aren't you going to?" She was looking straight ahead, and though her voice sounded tired, it had an edge of defiance.
"I can say what I have to in just one word: Why?" While driving, Adam had been struggling to control his indignation and temper. Now, both erupted. "In Gods name! Why?"
"I've been asking myself that."
"Well, ask again and see if you can get some kind of sane answer. I'll be damned if I can."
"You don't have to shout."
"You don't have to steal."
"If we're only going to fight," Erica said, "we won't accomplish much."
"All I'm trying to accomplish is the answer to a simple question."
"The question being: Why?"
"Exactly."
"If you must know," Erica said, "I rather enjoyed doing it. I suppose that shocks you."
"Yes, it shocks me like hell."
She went on, musing aloud, as if explaining to herself. "Of course, I didn't want to get caught, but there was a thrill in knowing I might be.
It made everything exciting and somehow sharper. In a way it was like the feeling you get when you've had one drink too many. Of course, when I was caught, it was awful. Much worse than anything I imagined."
"Well," Adam said, "at least we're making a start."
"If you don't mind, that's all I want to make tonight. I realize you have a lot of questions, and I guess you're entitled to ask them. But could we leave the rest until tomorrow?"
Adam glanced sideways. He saw that Erica had put her head back and her eyes were closed. She looked young and vulnerable and weary. He answered, "Okay."
She said, so softly that he had to strain to hear, "And thank you for coming. It's true what I said - I wasn't going to send for you, but I was glad when you were there."
He reached out and let his hand cover hers.
"You said something" - Erica still spoke dreamily, as if from a distance - "about making a start. If only we could make a whole new start!"
"In what way?"
"In every way." She sighed. "I know we can't."
On impulse, Adam said, "Perhaps we can."
It was strange, he thought, that today of all days Perceval Stuyvesant should have suggested one.
***
Sir Perceval and Adam were breakfasting together at the Hilton Hotel downtown, where Perce was staying.
Adam had not talked with Erica since their return home last night. She had gone exhausted to bed, fallen asleep immediately and was still sleeping soundly when he left the house early to drive into the city.
He had considered waking her, decided against it, then half way to the breakfast appointment wished he had. He would have gone back, except that Perce had a midmorning flight to New York - the reason they made the arrangement by telephone last night; also, suddenly, Perce's proposition seemed more relevant and important than it had the day before.
One thing Adam had noticed last night was that while Erica went to sleep alone in the guest bedroom, as she had for the past month, she left the door open, and it was still open when he tiptoed in this morning.
He decided now: He would telephone home in another hour. Then, if Erica wanted to talk, he would rearrange his office schedule and go home for part of the morning.
Over their meal, Perce made no reference to the interruption in their talk the previous day; nor did Adam. Briefly Perce inquired about Adam's sons, Greg and Kirk, then they talked about superconductors - the area in which the small scientific company, now offering its presidency to Adam, was hopeful of a breakthrough.
"One extraordinary thing about superconductors, old boy, is that the public and the press know so little of them." Perce sipped his brew of mixed Ceylon and India teas which he carried with him in canisters and had prepared specially wherever he happened to be.
"As you probably know, Adam, a superconductor is a metal or wire which will carry a full load of electricity without any loss whatever."
Adam nodded. Like any eighth-grade physics student, he was aware that all present wires and cables caused at least a fifteen percent loss of power, called resistance.
"So a working superconductor with nil resistance," Perceval said, "would revolutionize the entire world's electric power systems. Among other things it would eliminate complex, expensive transmission equipment and provide fantastic amounts of power at unbelievably low cost. What has held back development until now has been the fact that superconductors would only function at very low temperatures - about 450 degrees below zero Fahrenheit."
Adam said, "That's pretty damned cold."
"Quite so. Which is why, in recent years, a scientific dream has been of a superconductor which will function at room temperature."
"Is it likely to be more than a dream?"
Perce thought before answering. "We've known each other a good many years, old boy. Have you ever known me to exaggerate?"
"No," Adam said. "Very much the reverse. You've always been conservative."
"I still am." Perce smiled and drank more tea, then went on. "Our group has not found a room temperature superconductor, but certain phenomena - the result of experiments we've made - have us excited. We wonder, some days, if we may not be very close."
"And if you are?"
"If we are, if there is a breakthrough, there's not an area of modern technology which won't be affected and improved. Let me give you two examples."
Adam listened with increasing fascination.
"I won't go into all the magnetic field hypotheses, but there's something called a superconducting ring. What it is is a wire which will store electric current in large amounts and hold it intact, and if we make the other breakthrough we'll be on top of this one, too. It'll make feasible the transfer of portable electric power in huge amounts, from place to place, by truck or boat or airplane. Think of its uses in the desert or the jungle - flown there in a package without a generator in sight, and more to follow when needed. And can you imagine another superconducting ring, this time in an electric operated car, making the battery as out of date as rushlight?"
"Since you ask," Adam said, "I have trouble imagining some of that."
Perce reminded him, "Not long ago people had trouble imagining atomic energy and space travel."
True, Adam thought, then pointed out, "You said two examples."
"Yes, I did. One of the interesting things about a superconductor is that it's diamagnetic that's to say, when used in conjunction with more common magnets, immensely large repulsive forces can occur. Do you see the possibilities, old boy? - metals in any kind of machinery nestled close together yet never actually touching. Obviously we'd have frictionless bearings. And you could build a car without metal parts in contact with one another - hence, no wear. Those are just beginning possibilities. Others are endless."
It was impossible not to share some of Perce's conviction. From anyone else, Adam would have taken most of what was being described either as science fiction or a long-range possibility.
But not from Perce Stuyvesant who had a record of good judgment and accomplishment in deeply scientific fields.
"Somewhat fortunately," Perce said, "in the areas I've mentioned, and others, our group has been able to move along without attracting much attention. But there'll be attention soon - lots of it. That's another reason why we need you."
Adam was thinking hard. Perce's report and ideas excited him, though he wondered if the excitement would be as great or as sustained as he had experienced with cars - the Orion and Farstar, for example. Even now, the thought of not being a part of the auto industry was hard to accept. But there had been something in what Perce said yesterday about carving new pathways, breaking fresh ground.
Adam said, "If we do get down to this seriously, I'll want to come to San Francisco and talk with the rest of your people."
"We'd be more than delighted, old man, and I urge you to make it soon."
Perce spread his hands in a deprecating gesture. "Of course, not everything I've described may work out the way we hope, nor is a breakthrough ever a breakthrough until it's happened. But there will be some important, exciting things; that much we know for sure and that I promise you. Remember that line? 'There is a tide in the affairs of men, Which, taken at the flood . . .' and so on."