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THE LUCIFER DEVICE

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GTX_Admin:
The suspense builds...

Rickshaw:
I was always advised that you should never run.  Your fusing should always be long enough to allow you to reach a place of safety at a fast walk.  You never run in case you trip.

robunos:

SIX: A GRAND OLD SHOW INDEED


The Prime Minister continued to watch, fascinated, as the flare from the burning slow fuse continued to make it's way along the fuse's length, slowly inching towards the top of the Device. A small movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention, and, glancing to his right, Lloyd George saw that the armoured man had gained the safety of the rim of the pit, and was moving behind his metal box. Looking back to the fuse, he saw that the sparks were nearly at their destination, moving along that part of the fuse that draped over the Case, then finally reaching top of the cylinder, and disappearing inside.
"This is it !", Wells said, half whispered, yet emphatically. There was a loud popping sound, and the cylinder jumped off the Case, shooting vertically upward, and disappearing from Lloyd George's field of view. For a second, nothing happened, then there was a brilliant flash of intense red light, filling the box with it's glare, even through the meagre area afforded by the two open viewing slits, followed by the sound of an almighty explosion, but high pitched, more liked the crack of breaking glass, than the boom made by explosives. Lloyd George ducked down instinctively, closing his eyes in the process, and as he did so, he heard the pattering of debris against the iron wall in front of him. He opened his eyes again. He had expected the red light to be gone, but it persisted, albeit now flickering and pulsating. The sound continued, too, but now mixed in with it was the sound of, the Prime Minister could only imagine, what being in the vortex of a tornado would be like. He attempted to look out of his viewing slit again, but the intensity of the light was just too great to bear. Also there was a fierce blast of hot air coming through the opening, which threatened to burn his eyes.
"Here," said Wells, jauntily, "Take these." He handed Lloyd George a pair of ironworker's goggles, the lenses of which were nearly opaque. Lloyd George donned them, and once more peered outside.
The tripod and the Device were gone. He now also saw, on the floor of the pit, a large, shallow, black iron pan, that he did not recall noticing previously. The red light, considerably dimmed by his goggles, was emanating from something randomly moving across the surface of the pan. This same something also appeared to be the source of both the continuing noise, and  of the hot wind. All the while, clouds of purplish-grey smoke rose into the air.
"you'll need these as well," Wells almost quipped, and from his jacket pocket, produced a pair of folding opera glasses. He deftly flipped them open, and handed them to the Prime Minister. Lloyd George took them , and with some initial difficulty, looked again at the hellish scene in the pit.
Through the magnifying lenses of the opera glasses, he could now see what the 'something' was. A brightly glowing, molten sphere skittered across the surface of the iron pan, ricochetting off the sides whenever it came into contact with them. occasionally liquid gobbets would fly off from the sphere and move a short distance away, before, almost magically, moving back towards the main body and re-combining with it. And all the time, the red light continued to glare, the noise continued, and wreaths of smoke billowed away from the molten blob. For a second, Lloyd George struggled to bring to mind where he had seen something similar to to this, and where he had seen it. Then he remembered. Beads of water, dropped onto hot iron plates, behaved in exactly this fashion.
The sound of Wells' voice stirred him from his reverie. "That is a ball of molten Carolinum. The energy for the heat, light, sound and motion all comes from the disintegration of the Carolinum atoms themselves, and the non-gaseous decay products, mixed in with the Carolinum. The gaseous decay products, of course, are escaping in the form of the smoke we can see. Because the weight of the Carolinum is so small here, it's able to move about as the gases escape. A large mass, such as would be used in a weapon, would be too heavy to do this, and would thus sit there, immobile, a molten, boiling mass . . ." Lloyd George interrupted him. " How come the iron pan doesn't melt ?" he asked. "There is not enough heat produced by the small amount of Carolinum present," Wells replied. "The iron pan conducts the heat away too rapidly for it to get hot enough to melt. A large, stationary mass, as I have just described, however . . ."
Wells was interrupted again, this time by the telephone. Wells crossed the box to it, and answered. After a few, inaudible words, Wells called out to Lloyd George. "Have you seen enough ?" Lloyd George had, rather. While the ironworker's goggles had made the blinding red glare tolerable, the lack of any hearing protection meant that the continuing noise was becoming intolerable. It was also getting increasingly hot inside the metal box, which was  increasingly resembling an oven, with each passing minute. And he still hadn't eaten.
 "I have, thank you," he intoned loudly, over the continuing cacophony. Wells almost shouted into the telephone mouthpiece, "You can stop it now, then tell Chef to get ready !"


TO BE CONTINUED


cheers,
Robin.

apophenia:
Great stuff!  :smiley: :smiley:

robunos:

SEVEN:  MORE POWERFUL THAN I HAD ENVISAGED . . .


"I thought it couldn't be stopped . . ." Lloyd George said, turning away from the viewing slit towards Wells.
"It can't, " Wells replied, but as it is such a small amount, it can be contained, until the decay peters out. How else did you think we were going to be able to get out of here !" he continued jokingly. By now Wells was back at the vision slit. "Come and see this," he called to Lloyd George, who soon joined him.
Approaching the rim of the pit was a tracked, armoured vehicle. Attached to the vehicle, which resembled an unarmed tank, was the jib of a crane. Hanging from the crane, in turn, was a large metal bell. As they watched, the armour-clad man reappeared, and made his way once more down into the pit. By the time he reached the floor of the pit, the crane had reached it's edge. Gesticulating stiffly with his hands, he guided the crane's operator as the jib swung out across the pit, until the bell hung suspended vertically above the iron pan. With a final stiff wave of his arms, the bell dropped rapidly, but still in a controlled manner, over the pan, the bell's edge fitting neatly inside the pan's rim. Instantly, the red glare vanished, and the noise level reduced by at least half, dropping in pitch into a less frightful rumbling roar as it did so.
"That'll contain it until things dies down somewhat," said Wells, "now where's Corporal Doolittle ?"
Almost as he finished speaking, the shutter in the door clicked open, and Doolittle addressed them.
"How was that then, Gents," he asked, his voice cheerily chipper. "Capital !" replied Wells, "a grand old show ! Now if you be kind enough to release us from our confinement . . ."
With another 'clunk', the door was unlocked and opened, and both Wells and the Prime Minister stepped out into the cool morning air. "Right then," Wells spoke again, as they formed up with their guards for the walk back to the station buildings."We'll go and get that breakfast, and then afterwards, we're off to Martlesham Heath, to see the Device proper !"
The stiff march through the dunes back to Orford Ness base helped the Prime Minister's condition immeasurably. The noise from the test they had just witnessed soon petered out, along with the Prime Minister's headache, to be replaced by the crying of the seagulls overhead. Likewise, the breeze from off the sea helped Lloyd George to cool down, it had been hot in that iron box, especially once the test had commenced. Before Lloyd George realised, they had reached the perimeter fence of Orford Ness proper. With a cheery wave, the sentry opened the gate, and waved their party through. Then they were crunching across the shingle to the line of huts, that constituted the only permanent buildings on the airfield. As they drew near, an officer appeared from one of the huts, and marched briskly towards them. As he came up to them, he stopped, and saluted smartly. Wells stopped, followed by the Prime Minister, the guards continuing on to the Guard Room, some distance away.
" Good Morning, Station Commander, " Wells addressed the officer. " Good Morning, Wells, good morning Prime Minister."
 the Station Commander replied, "Was it what you were expecting ?" he continued, addressing Lloyd George.
"Quite the contrary," Lloyd George replied, it appears to be a great deal more powerful than I had envisaged."
"Indeed," intoned the Station Commander, "Shall we go to breakfast, and we can discuss things further there."


TO BE CONTINUED

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