Three days later, Watership found his technical assistant hard at work in the lab. “Not finished yet?” he asked.
“The situation is highly annoying,” Chalmers said. “I’ve been doing these analytical series on rocks every day for more than a year now. Your procedure makes analysis a routine. The sand is mostly what you would expect, silica and alumina. The strange borax bead tests – yes, I know how old fashioned they are, but I did them first to confirm that the material here is indeed the material described by Eisenhower – corresponds to a minor component. I followed your lecture notes, step by step, and found … something. On evaporation, it crystallizes into three sorts of crystal. They give the borax bead colors…everything else in the sample does not. So I’m trying to identify one of the crystals. I can tell you lots of things it isn’t, but not what it is. Some complex ion? But it survived the concentrated sodium hydroxide.”
“Take a day to write up what you have done,” Watership answered, “and why at each step. Sometimes, when I tried to write something up, I realized I was making a simple mistake.”
“I’ll do that,” Chalmers answered. “I may need two days; I’m in the middle of exams for all three of my courses. And by then the department ebullioscope will be free from the senior lab.”
“Exams are more important. Write it up carefully.”
* * * * *
Chalmers glared at the ebullioscope. Vapor pressure reduction due to dissolved materials was a very simple experiment, at least if you were careful. But something was going wrong. His calibration experiments all passed, but the unknowns were being uncooperative. There came a knock at the door. Professor Watership stuck his head in.
“I read your write-up,” Watership announced. “I had my exams to grade first. Your notes were very professional. You seem to have done everything right. Identifying those crystals sounds to be a good Master’s Thesis, unless the answer turned out to be very simple, say, a faulty reagent.”
“Amen to that,” Chalmers answered. “I shouldn’t have needed a week, and should apologize for making such a mess of things. I should at least write this Eisenhower gentleman, and tell him what I have found, shouldn’t I?”
“Yes, it’s about time,” Watership answered. “Your report and a cover explanation should do it. Telling him you found an aluminosilicate, and trace metals giving the novel bead test, the metals not being part of the ordinary analytic series, should be enough to tell him he and his friend have found a new mineral.”
“That reminds me,” Chalmers said, not quite enthusiastically. “May I ask Physics to measure the spectrum of these? That would tie down what elements are actually there. Then I can back trace to what I did wrong. But I know it’s a bit expensive.”
“That’s part of your grad lab sequence, anyhow,” Watership answered. “Ask them. You seem to have spent a lot of time with these measurements…what is the issue?”
“I can measure vapor pressure reduction.” Chalmers pointed at the instrument. “Standard grad lab experiment. But the reduction is too large. Not a little too large, a lot too large.”
“What do you mean, too large?” Watership felt puzzled.
“For the unknown, I prepared the sulphate and the chloride. I measured directly how much sulphate or chloride were present…precipitation methods. So if there is, say, tenth-molar chloride present, the unknown anion should have the same concentration, or half that if it’s divalent, and I can calculate the vapor pressure reduction I should expect. With the chloride, I get twice the expected reduction. With the sulphate, I get more than twice.”
“If there is a…no forget that idea.” Watership shook his head. “If you formed a compound ion, the reduction would be too small, not too large. We are out of my remit. I’m a minerologist, not a physical chemist. Write up what you’ve found, get an appointment with Professor Hildebrand, and say I sent you. Meanwhile get those spectra, and we can tell Eisenhower exactly what he has.”
