Astounding Science Fiction (British Edition), April 1944 — page 65: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

GALLEGHER PLUS ‘“‘Here you are, commander,” he said. Ly it Wall squinted at the fluorescence. sile strength?” “Plenty,” Gallegher said. “It has to be. Nonorganic, mineral content of solid earth, compacted and compressed into wire. Sure, it’s got tensile strength. Only you couldn’t support a ton weight with it.” Wall nodded. “Of course not. It would cut through steel like a thread through butter. Fine, Mr. Gallegher. We'll have to make tests—”’ “Go ahead. It’ll stand up. You can run this wire around corners all you want, from one end of a spaceship to another, and it'll never snap under stress. It’s too thin. It won’t—it can’t—be strained unevenly, be- cause it’s too thin. A wire cable couldn’t do it. You needed flexibility that wouldn't cancel tensile strength. The only possible answer was a thin, tough wire.” The commander grinned. That enough. “We'll have the routine tests,” he said. “Need any money now, though? We'll ad- vance anything you need, within reason— say up to ten thousand.” Hopper pushed forward. “I never ordered wire, Gallegher. So you haven’t fulfilled my commission.” Gallegher didn’t answer. He was adjust- ing his lamp. The wire changed from blue to yellow fluorescence, and then to red. “This is your screen, wise guy,” Gallegher said. “See the pretty colors?” “Naturally I see them! I’m not blind. But—” “Different colors, many angstroms I use. Thus. Red. Blue, Red again. Yellow. And when I turn off the lamp—”’ The wire Wall still held became invisible. Hopper closed his mouth with a snap. He leaned forward, cocking his head to one side. Gallegher said, “The wire’s got the same refractive index as air. I made it that way, on purpose.” He had the grace to blush slightly. Oh, well—he could buy Gallegher Plus a drink later. “On purpose?” “You wanted a steroscopic screen which could be viewed from any angle without optical distortion. And in color—that goes without saying, these days. Well, here it is.” Hopper breathed hard. Gallegher beamed at him, “Take a box frame and string each square with this wire. *“Ten- was depending on how. 63 Make a mesh screen. Do that on all four sides. String enough wires inside of the box. You have, in effect, an invisible cube, made . of wire. All right. Use ultraviolet to project your film or your television, and you have patterns of fluorescence, depending on the angstrom strength patterns. In other words —a picture. A colored picture. A three- dimensional picture, because it’s projected onto an invisible cube. And, finally, one that can be viewed from any angle without distortion, because it does more than give an optical illusion of steroscopic vision— it’s actually a three-dimensional picture. Catch?” Hopper said feebly, “Yes. I understand. “You .. . why didn’t you tell me this before?” Gallegher changed the subject in haste. “Td like some police protection, Com- mander Wall. A crook named Max Cuff has been trying to get his hooks on this machine. His thugs kidnaped me this after- noon, and—” “Interfering with government business, eh?” Wall said grimly. “I know these jack- pot politicians. Max Cuff won’t trouble you any more—if I may use the visor?” Smeith beamed at the prospect of Cuff getting it in the neck. Gallegher caught his eye. There was a pleasant, jovial gleam in it, and, somehow, it reminded Gallegher to offer his guests drinks. Even the commander accepted this time, turning from his finished visor call to take the glass Narcissus handed him. “Your laboratory will be under guard,” he told Gallegher. “So you'll have no further trouble.” He drank, stood up, and_ shook Gallegher’s hand. “I must make my report. Good luck, and many thanks. We’ll call you tomorrow.” He went out, after the two officers. Hop- per, gulping his cocktail, said, “I ought to apologize. But it’s all water under the bridge, eh, old man?” “Yeah,” Gallegher said. some money.’ “Trench will mail you the check. nds uh . . . and—” His voice died away. “Something?” “N-nothing,” Hopper. said, putting down his glass and turning green. “A little fresh air... urpl” = The door slammed behind him. Gallegher and Smeith eyed each other curiously. “Odd,” Smeith said. “A visitation from heaven, “You owe me maybe,” comiclbooks (©)