Herrick, realizing that the President could only have read a synopsis of his report, explained how Kingsley and the Astronomer Royal had independently deduced the existence of the Cloud, how Kingsley’s telegram had been received in Pasadena, and how the two Englishmen had been invited to California. The President softened.
“Ah, they’re both in California, are they? You did well to send that invitation, perhaps better than you realized, Dr Herrick.”
It was then that Herrick first realized the significance of Kingsley’s sudden decision to return to England.
Some hours later, flying back to the West Coast, Herrick was still pondering his visit to Washington. He had hardly expected to receive the President’s quiet but firm censure, nor had he expected to be sent home so soon. Curiously the unmistakable censure worried him far less than he would have supposed. In his own eyes he had done his duty, and the critic that Herrick feared most was himself.
It also took the Astronomer Royal some days to reach the fountainhead of government. The route to the summit lay through the First Lord of the Admiralty. The ascent would have been made sooner had he been willing to declare his purpose. But the Astronomer Royal would say nothing but that he desired an interview with the Prime Minister. Eventually he obtained an interview with the Prime Minister’s private secretary, a young man of the name of Francis Parkinson. Parkinson was frank: the Prime Minister was extremely busy. As the Astronomer Royal must know, quite apart from all the usual business of state, there was a delicate international conference in the offing, there was Mr Nehru’s visit to London in the spring, and the Prime Minister’s own coming visit to Washington. If the Astronomer Royal would not state his business, then quite certainly there would be no interview. Indeed the business would need to be of exceptional importance, otherwise with regret he must decline to be of any assistance whatever. The Astronomer Royal capitulated by giving Parkinson a very brief account of the affair of the Black Cloud. Two hours later he was explaining the whole matter, this time in full detail, to the Prime Minister.
The following day the Prime Minister held an emergency meeting of the Inner Cabinet, to which the Home Secretary was also invited. Parkinson was there, acting as secretary. After giving a quite accurate precis of Herrick’s report, the Prime Minister looked round the table and said:
“My purpose in calling this meeting was to acquaint you with the facts of a case that may possibly become serious, rather than to discuss any immediate action. Our first step must obviously be to satisfy ourselves of the correctness or otherwise of this report.”
“And how may we do that?’ asked the Foreign Secretary.
“Well, my first step was to ask Parkinson to make discreet inquiries concerning the — er, scientific reputations of the gentlemen who have signed this report. Perhaps you would like to hear what he has to say?”
The meeting signified that it would. Parkinson was slightly apologetic.
“It wasn’t altogether easy to get really reliable information, especially about the two Americans. But the best I could get from my friends in the Royal Society was that any report bearing the signature of the Astronomer Royal or of the Mount Wilson Observatory will be absolutely sound from an observational point of view. They were, however, far less certain about the deductive powers of the four signatories. I gather that only Kingsley of the four might claim to be an expert on that side.”
“What do you mean by “might claim to be”?’ asked the Chancellor.
“Well, that Kingsley is known to be an ingenious scientist, but not everyone regards him as thoroughly sound.”
“So what it amounts to is that the deductive parts of this report depend on only one man, and at that on a man who is brilliant but unsound?’ said the Prime Minister.
“What I gleaned could be construed in that way, although it would be a somewhat extreme way of putting it,” answered Parkinson.
“Possibly,” went on the Prime Minister, “but at any rate it gives us fair grounds for a measure of scepticism. Evidently we must look further into it. What I want to discuss with you all is the means we should now adopt for gaining further information. One possibility would be to ask the Council of the Royal Society to appoint a committee who would carry out a thorough probe of the whole matter. The only other line of attack that recommends itself to me is a direct approach to the U.S. Government, who must surely also be much concerned with the veracity, or perhaps I should say the accuracy, of Professor Kingsley and others.”
After several hours’ discussion it was decided to communicate immediately with the U.S. Government. This decision was reached largely through the powerful advocacy of the Foreign Secretary, who was not short of arguments to support an alternative that would place the matter in the hands of his own department.
“The decisive point,” he said, “is that an approach to the Royal Society, however desirable from other points of view, must of necessity place quite a number of people in possession of facts that would at the present stage best be left secret. I think we can all agree on this.”
They all did. Indeed the Minister of Defence wanted to know: ‘What steps can be taken to ensure that neither the Astronomer Royal nor Dr Kingsley shall be allowed to disseminate their alarmist interpretation of the presumed facts?”
“This is a delicate and important point,” answered the Prime Minister. “It is one that I have already given some thought to. That is actually the reason why I asked the Home Secretary to attend this meeting. I had intended raising the question with him later.”
It was generally agreed that the point be left to the Prime Minister and the Home Secretary, and the meeting broke up. The Chancellor was thoughtful as he made back to his offices. Of all those at the meeting he was the only one to be very seriously perturbed, for he alone appreciated how very rickety the nation’s economy was, and how very little would be needed to topple it in ruins. The Foreign Secretary on the other hand was rather pleased with himself. He felt he had shown up rather well. The Minister of Defence thought that the whole business was rather a storm in a tea-cup and that in any case it was quite definitely nothing to do with his department. He wondered why he had been called to the meeting.
The Home Secretary, on the other hand, was very pleased to have been called to the meeting, and he was very pleased to be staying on to discuss further business with the Prime Minister.
“I am quite sure,” said he, “that we can dig up some regulation that will enable us to detain the two of them, the Astronomer Royal and the man from Cambridge.”
“I am quite sure of it too,” answered the Prime Minister. “The Statute Book doesn’t go back so many centuries for nothing. But it would be much better if we can manage things tactfully. I have already had the opportunity of a conversation with the Astronomer Royal. I put the point to him and from what he said I feel we can be quite sure of his discretion. But from certain hints that he let drop I gather that it may be rather different with Dr Kingsley. At all events it is clear that Dr Kingsley must be contacted without delay.”
“I will send someone up to Cambridge immediately.”
“Not someone, you must go yourself. Dr Kingsley will be — er — shall I say flattered if you go to see him in person. Ring him up saying that you will be in Cambridge tomorrow morning and would like to consult him on an important matter. That I think should be quite effective, and it will be much simpler that way.”
Kingsley was extremely busy from the moment he returned to Cambridge. He made good use of the few days that elapsed before the political wheels began to turn. A number of letters, all carefully registered, were sent abroad. An observer would probably have made special note of the two addressed to Greta Johannsen of Oslo and to Mlle Yvette Hedelfort of the University of Clermont-Ferrand, these being Kingsley’s only female correspondents. Nor could a letter to Alexis Ivan Alexandrov have passed notice. Kingsley hoped that it would reach its intended destination, but one could never be certain of anything sent to Russia. True, Russian and Western scientists, when they met together at international conferences, worked out ways and means whereby letters could pass between them. True, the secret of those ways and means was extremely well kept, even though it was known to many people. True, many letters did pass successfully through all censorships. But one could never be quite sure. Kingsley hoped for the best.
His main concern however was with the radio astronomy department. He chivvied John Marlborough and his colleagues into intensive observations of the approaching Cloud, south of Orion. It required a good deal of persuasion to get them started. The Cambridge equipment (for 21 cm work) had only just recently come into operation and there were many other observations that Marlborough wanted to make. But Kingsley eventually managed to get his own way without revealing his real purposes. And once the radio astronomers were fairly started on the Cloud the results that came in were so startling that Marlborough needed no persuasion to continue. Soon his team were working twenty-four hours continuously round the clock. Kingsley found himself hard put to it to
