."

Larchmont nodded. "Have you any idea how much it takes to kill a man?"

"A drop or so of the aerosol on the skin is enough, I understand."

"That's right. Now, how can such a minute amount of poison damage a
human being?"

Bending began to get a glimmer of what the man was driving at. "Well, I
know that some of them suppress the enzymic action with acetylcholine,
which means that the nerves simply act as though their synapses had been
shorted through. It only takes a small percentage of that kind of damage
to the nerve fibers to ruin the whole nervous system. The signals get
jammed up and confused, and the whole mechanism ceases to function. The
victim dies."

Larchmont nodded. "Now, as I understand it, our banking system is the
vital nerve network of our economy. And our system is built on
credit--faith, if you will. Destroy that faith--even a small percentage
of it--and you destroy the system.

"If your machine were to go on the market, there would be no more faith
in the present utilities system. Their stocks would be worthless long
before your machine actually put them out of business. And that would
hit our banking system the same way a nerve gas hits the nervous system.
And the victim--the American economy--would die. And the nation, as a
nation, would die with it."

"I see," said Bending slowly. He didn't like the picture at all; it was
more frightening than he cared to admit, even to himself. He looked at
his business manager. "What do you think, Jim?" he asked softly. He knew
he could depend on Luckman.

Jim Luckman looked worried. "They're right, Sam. Clean, dead right. I
know the investment pattern in this country, and I have an idea of what
it must be abroad. This country would be in the middle of the worst
depression in its history. At least we had Federal help during the
Thirties--but there won't even be a United States Government if this
hits. Nor, I think, will there be a Soviet government, in spite of what
Dr. Artomonov's personal beliefs may be."

Significantly, the Russian economist said nothing.

Sam Bending closed his eyes. "I've worked on this thing for years," he
said tensely. "It was ... it _means_ something to me. I invented it. I
perfected it." His voice began to quaver just a little. "But if it's
going to do ... to do all that--" He paused and took a deep breath. "All
right. I'll smash my apparatus and destroy my plans and forget about
it."

Jim Luckman looked at Secretary Co