What seemed like a simple experiment to figure out how the ancient stones were cut released an ancient horror.
excerpt
To ninety-nine people out of every hundred the name of Frank Ogden Harris means nothing. Nine hundred and ninety-nine people out of every thousand have never heard of him or, if they have, the name has conveyed no more interest, nothing more of importance than the name of John Smith or William Jones.
To a certain number of people, however, Frank Ogden Harris was well known and his name meant a great deal. Among the more advanced members of the chemical profession he bore a high reputation for a number of noteworthy discoveries in inorganic chemistry. Several of his formulae were in constant use, and metallurgical chemists were all familiar with the Harris system of assaying the rarer earths and minerals.
Among scientists at large, but more especially among those interested primarily in astronomy and physics, Harris had a reputation of being a revolutionary, an iconoclast and something of a visionary. Even the most advanced and open-minded of the younger generation looked upon Harris' theories, prophecies and ideas as somewhat fantastic and impossible. But all admitted that he knew the subjects, that he was logical, that he could bring up points that could not be denied nor argued down, and that, in one or two cases, his theories had been completely borne out.
And in the circles of the most prominent electrical engineers, or rather among those who specialized in electro-magnetic phenomena and ether waves, Harris' name was one to conjure with. The multi-electronic tube was Harris' invention and its royalties brought him a princely income. The chromovisor, by means of which television had been brought within the reach of all, was the direct result of Harris' active and revolutionary brain, and that most important radio accessory of all—-the static-nullifier—had been conceived and developed by Frank Ogden Harris.
