Astounding v41n06 (1948 08) (cape1736)

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SCIEITCE FICTION B««. U. S. Pat OB. CONTENTS ^\UGUST, 194g VOL. XLI, NO. 6 NOVELETTE TIME TRAP, 6// Chailru. Harnm* 7 SHORT STORIES f^MAEI.ER THAN POU TIIIAK. hn Krnurth Gm» . 82 I>A\VN. OP hn .1. JS<‘riri')ii i'hnttdler . . 46 THE MOKSTEK, h’J J. n. i-ait \ »oC 6« ARTICLE AKW DIELECTRICS, bif A’. L. bwkc . » . , . 72 SERIAL JUiE.ADI-'VL SANCTr.MJy, i)V AJHi^ Frcmk UmsM . 89 i_Concluslun) READERS’ DEPARTMENTS THE EDITOR'S P.AOE 0 IN TIMES TO COMB 71 THE ANALYTICAL LAISOU.^TOUY 86 nOOK REVIEW 87 BRASS TACKS 157 COVER BY CANEDO ' Editor JOHN W. CAMPBELL. JU. lllustratfons by Cartier, Orban and Timmins Tlie editorial rontents Dare not Deen puhllshed before, are protected t eopfrlabt and cannot be reprinted without pubUsbers' permission. All stories in this magaalne are fiction. No actual persona are designated by name <w character Any similarity Is colnddental. ■ Monthly publication Issued hy Street t Smith Publications, Incorporaterl, r’2 East 4‘ind Street, New Yoik IT, N. Y. Allen L. Crammer, Chairman of tn~e Board- Gerald II. Smith, I’resident: Henry W. Ralston, Vice President and Secretary •’ Thomas H. Kaiwr, Treasurer. Copyright, 1048, In H. S. A. and Great Britain by Street & Smith Publications. Ine. Reentered as Second-class Matter February 7, 1938, at the Post Olflce at New York, under Act of Con- gress oV March 3, 1870. Subscriptions to Countries In Pan .American Union. 12 7S per year; $3.00 per year in Canada; elsewhere. $3.25 per jttr. All subscriptions sbuulrt be addressed to P.O. Box 494. Elizabeth, N. J. VVe can- not accept respoiiriblllty fur unsolicited manuscripts or artwork. Any material submitted must include return postage. $2.30 per Tear in (J. a a. Printw in agQiitg th* »■ A. 25e per deny NEXT ISSUE ON SALE -AUGUST 17, 1948

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THE ATOMIC SECRET Most of the great things of sci- ence are ultimately reduced to physically simple devices. Fifty years of extremely difificult research, topped off by the Manhattan Proj- ect, has reduced the secret of re- leasing atomic energy to a degree of ultimate simplicity almost un- realized. Literally and actually, the release of atomic energy requires only that pure natural uranium be dissolved in heavy w'ater. The unit need be only about the size of a household bread box. It is inher- ently capable of releasing energy at any rate whatsoever — from a milliwatt to a million megawatts, so long as you can devise means for carrying away the energy as it is generated. And that is the full secret of re- leasing atomic energy-- a small Hsli tank of heavy water, with a few pounds of natural uranium in solu- tion. There is no need to separate the uranium isotopes. There is no need for elaborate design of ura- nium slugs and graphite spacing. Just dissolve the pure uranium salt in pure heavy water. The graphite pile cannot be as simple ; heavy hydrogen is the most perfect of all moderators, so effi- cient that elaborate spacing arrange- ments are not needed. The oxygen in the heavy water has almost zero neutron absorption, and is a fair moderator itself. Heavy water is the only moderator that can make natural uranium release its atomic- energy in a chain fission reaction in an homogeneous reactor ; graphite, being less efficient as a moderator, must be used in a nonhomogeneous — i.e., scattered-lumps type — re- actor. But while the release of atomic energy has been reduced to the ul- timate simplicity, the problem of harnessing atomic energy to pro- duce something other than pure heat is not so simply solved. Our parlor fish tank-size heavy- water uranium solution is capable of releasing energy at a million megawatt rate ; no heat-transfer system known to, or imagined by man can absorb any such immense amount of power from so small a volume. Yet so inordinately effi- cient is the heavy-water moderator that if a natural uranium solution is made with a size of, say, fifteen feet on a side, the reactivity would be uncontrollable unless the solution were diluted belovv' optimum strength. The larger a volume of uranium-moderator is used, the less THK ATOMIC ST:CRKT

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neutron-loss through the surfaces in proportion to the neutron-genera- tion intiie volume. Hence the in- creased regitivity of the large ura- nium-h^W water pile. The prob- lem of extracting the enormous energy generation from the pile, not the energy capability of the pile itself, is^he stumbling block. It is literally true that, if you can absorb -the heat generated at an unlimited rate, any pile capable of functioning at all can generate heat at any rate you name. The mini- mum size required for a function- able pile is incredibly small. For example, the figures on energy-re- lease of the llikini bombs show that approximately three pounds of 11- 235 or Plutonium-239 actually fis- sioned. The published figures on efficiency of fission in the bombs indicate those three pounds repre- sented about ten {)er cent of the total. Be conservative, and say fifty pounds of U-235 were re- quired. Becau.se of the startlingly high density of the metal, a cube .^.25 inches on a side contains just about fifty pounds of uranium. It*s a little difficult to use atomic bombs to run power plants, but you can dissolve that uranium in heavy water, converting it to a controlled reaction. The usable heavy-water pile using enriched uranium — natu- ral uranium with added U-235 or Pu-239 — can be smaller and lighter than an automobile storage battery. Atomically, it is capable of relea.sing 1,000.000,000.000 horsepower. We haven't the slightest notion of how any such immense energy genera- tion could be absorbed from any such small source fast enough to prevent the heavy-water from simply vanishing in a puff of heavy- steam, leaving a dried crust of uranium salts in the dry tank — and automatically stopping the reaction completely. Our atomic engines will be big, not because the atomic requirements force that on lis, but because we can’t absorb and utilize energy fast enough in small equipment. Atoms are too concentrated for us. And, of course, in this discussion of the atomic energy release me- (diaiiism, we have overlooked two other items that are very important practical considerations, but not properly atomic problents. One is the little item that human beings don’t function long, or well, in a dense field of gamma ray and neu- tron radiation. The fish tank pile will work, but no man near it will — • or live, either. There must l>e thick, multi-layer shielding for human safety. ( Although rolx)ts,'of course, wouldn’t mind the working condi- tions around an unshielded pile. ) The second item of major prac- tical importance is that, oven after the heat energy is extracted from the pile, we will be faced with the normal problePi of converting heat, into u.seful mechanical or other energy. The fish tank may supply I, Coo, 000 horsepower, buk^we don't have a fish tank-size steam turbine that will yield that much power. So we’re back to the old problem ; we need a new type of engine, not just a new way of hitching our old engines to the atom. , The Editor. ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-PICTIOlt

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TIME TRAP BY CHARLES HARNESS The nasty part about such a set-up xvas that those in- side the circle of the times couldn't possibly do anything to get out. Which made it just right for its purpose — Illustrated The Great Ones themselves never agreed whether the events constitut- ing Troy’s cry for help had a be- ginning. But the warning signal did have an end. The Great Ones saw to that. Those of the Great Ones who claim a beginning for the story date it with the expulsion of the eiil Sathanas from the Place of Suns, when he tied, horribly wounded, spiraling evasively in- ward, through stcrechronia without by Cartier number, until, exhausted, he sank and lay hidden in the crystallimng magma of a tiny nciv planet at the galactic rim. General Blade sometimes felt that leading a resistance movement was far exceeding his debt to decent so- ciety and that one day soon he would allow his peaceful nature to over- ride his indignant pursuit of justice.. Killing a man, even a very bad TIME TRAI*

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man, without a trial, went against his grain. He sighed and rapped on the table. ' “As a result of Blogshak’s mis- appropriation of funds voted to fight the epidemic,” he announced, “the death toll this morning reached over one hundred thousand. Does the Assassination Subcommittee have a recommendation ?” A thin-lipped man rose from the gathering. “The Provinarch ig- nored our warning,” he said rapidly. “This subcommittee, as you all know, some days ago set an arbi- trary limit of one hundred thousand deaths. Therefore this subcommit- tee now recommends that its plan for killing the Provinarch be adopted at once. Tonight is very favorable for our plan, which, in- cidentally, requires a married couple. We have thoroughly cata- synthesized the four bodyguards who will be with him on this shift and have provided irresistible scent and sensory stimuli for the woman. The probability for its success inso- far as assassination is concerned is about seventy-eight per cent ; the probability of escape of our killers is sixty-two per cent. We regard these probabilities as favorable. The Legal Subcommittee will take it •from there.” Another man arose. “We have retained Mr. Poole, who is with us tonight.” He nodded gravely to a withered little man beside him. “Although Mr. Poole has been a member of the bar but a short time, and although his pre-Iegal life — some seventy years of it — remains a mvstcry which he does not ex- plain, our catasynthesis laboratory indicates that his legal knowledge is profound. More important, his persuasive powers, tested with a trial group of twelve professional evaluators, sort of a rehearsal for a possible trial, border on hypnosis. He has also suggested an excellent method of disposing of the corpse to render identification difficult. According to Mr. Poole, if the assassinators are caught, the proba- bility of escaping the devitalizing chamber is fifty-three per cent.” “Mr. Chairman !” General Blade turned toward the new s])eaker, who stood quietly several rows away. The man seemed to reflect a gray inconspicuousness, relieved only by a gorgeous rose- bud in his lapel. Gray suit, gray eyes, graying temples. On closer examination, one detected an edge of flashing blue in the grayness. The eyes no longer seemed softly unobtrusive, but icy, and tlie firm mouth and jutting chin seemed jwHshed steel. General Blade had observed this phenomenon dozens of times, but he never tired of it. “You have the floor. Major T roy,” he said. “I, and perhaps other League ofticers, would like to know more about Mr. Poole,” came the quiet, faintly metallic voice. “He is not a member of the League, and yet Legal and Assassination welcome him in their councils. I think we should be provided some assurance that he has no associations with the Provinarch’s administration. One traitor could sell the lives of all of us.” ARTOUXDTNG SO I E N C E ■ F 1 CT I O N

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The I-Cgal spokcsuuin arose again. “Major Troy's objections are in some degree merited. We don't know who Mr. Poole is. His mind is absolutely impenetrable to tele- pathic probes. His fingerprint and eye vein patterns arc a little* ob- scure. Our attempts at identifica- tion”— he laughed sheepishly — “al- ways key out to yourself, major. An obvious impossibility. So far as the world is concerned, Mr. Poole is an old man who might have been born yesterday ! All we know of him is his willingness to co-operate with us to the best of his ability — which, I can assure you, is tremendous. T!ie catasyn- tbesizer has established his sympa- thetic attitude l)cyond doubt. Don't forget, too, that he could he charged' as a principal in this assassination and devitalized himself. On the whole, he is our man. if our killers are caught, we must use him.” Troy turned and studied the little lawyer with narrowing eyes ; Poole's face seemed oddly familiar. The old man returned the gaze sardoni- cally, with a faint suggestion of a smile. “Time is growing short, major,” urged the Assassination cliairnian. “The Poole matter has already re- ceived the attention of qualified League investigators. It is not a proper matter for discussion at this time. If you are satisfied with the arrangements, will you and Mrs. Troy please assemble the childless married couples on your list? The men can draw lots from the fish bowl on the side table. The red ball decides.” He eyed Troy ex- pectantly. .Still standing. Troy looked down at the woman in the adjacent seat. Her lips were half-parted, her black eyes somber pools as she looked uj> at her husband. “MTll, Ann?” he telepathcM. Her eyes seemed to look through him and far beyond. “He will make you draw the red ball, Jo'/i,” she murmured, trancelike. “Then he will die. and I will die. But Jon Troy will never die. Never die. Never die. Nev — ” “Wake up, Ami!” Troy shook her by the shoulder. To the puz- zled faces about them, he explained quickly, “My wife is something of a secress.” He ’pathed again ; “Who is- hef" Ann Troy brushed the black hair from her brow slowly. “It’s all confused. He^ is someone in this room — ” She started to get up. “Sit down, dear,” said Troy gently. “If I’m to draw the red fiall, I may as well cut this short." He slid past her into the aisle, strode to the side table, and thrusi his hand into the hole in the box sitting there. Every eye was on him. His hand hit the invisible fish bowl with its dozen-odd plastic balls. Inside the bowl, he touched the little spheres at random whilc he studied the people in the room. Ail old friends, except — Poole. That tantalizing face. Poole was now staring like the rest, except that beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. Troy swirled the balls around the TIME TK.U'

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bowl; the muffled clatter was aud- ible throughout the room. He felt his fingers close on one. His hands were perspiring freely. With an effort he' forced himself to drop it. He chose another, and looked at Poole. The latter was frowning. Troy could not bring his hand out of the bowl. His right arm seemed partially paralyzed. He dropped the ball and rolled the mass around again. Poole was now smiling. Troy hesitated a moment, then picked a ball from the center of the bowl. It felt slightly moist. He pulled it out, looked at it grimly, and held it up -for all to see. *‘Just ’patli that!” whispered the jail warden reverentl> to tlie night custodian. “^'ou know I can’t tclepath,” said the latter grumpily. "What are they saying?” “Not a word all ni ;ht. They seem to be taking a symposium of the best piano concertos since maybe the twentieth century. Was Chopin twentieth or twenty-first? Any- how, they’re up to the twenty-third now, with Darnoval. Troy repro- duces the orchestra and his wife does the piano. You’d think she had fifty years to live instead of five minutes.” “Both seem nice people,” rumi- nated the custodian. “If they hadn’t l-illed the Provinarch, maybe they’d have become famous ’pathic musi- cians. She had a lousy lawyer. She could have got off with ten years sleep if he’d half tried.” He pushed some papers across the desk. “I’ve had the chamber 10 checked. Want to look over the readings ?” The warden scanned them rap- idly. “Potential difference, eight million ; drain rate, ninety vital units/minute; estimated period of consciousness, thirty seconds ; es- timated durance to nonrecovery point, four minutes ; estimated durance to legal death, five min- utes.” He initialed the front sheet. “That’s fine. When I was younger they called it the 'vitality drain chamber.’ Drain rate was only two v.u./min. Took an hour to drain them to unconsciousness. Pretty hard on the condemned people. Well, I’d better go offi- ciate.” Wlien Jon and Ann Troy finished the Darnoval concerto they were silent for a few moments, exchang- ing simply a flow of wordless, un- fathomable perceptions between their cells. Troy was unable to disguise a steady beat of gloom. “We’ll have to go along with Poole’s plan.” be ’pathed, “though I con- fess I don’t know what his idea is. Take your capsule now.” His mind registered the motor impulses of her medulla as she re- moved the pill from its concealment under her armpit and swallowed it. Troy then perceived her awareness of her cell door opening, of grim men and women about her. Motion down corridors. Then the room. A clanging of doors. A titanic effort to hold their fading contact One last despairing communion, loving, tender. Then nothing. He was still sitting with his face ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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buried in his hands, when the guards came to take him to his owb trial that md'rning. “This murder,” annoiaiced the* Peoples' advocate to the twelve evaluators, “this crime of taking the life of our beloved Provinarch Blogshak, this heinous deed — is the most horrible thing that has hap- pened in Niork in my lifetime. The creature charged with this crime” — he pointed an accusing finger at the prisoner’s — “Jon Troy has been psyched and has been ad- judged integrated at a preliminary hearing. Even his attorney” — here bowing ironically to a b^dy-eyed little man at counsels’ tabic — “waived the defense of nonintegra- tion.” Poole continued to regard the Peoples! advocate with bitter weari- ness, as though he had gone through this a thousand times and knew every word that each of them was going to say. The prisoner seemed oblivious to the advocate, the twelve evaluators, the judge, and the crowded courtroom. Troy’s mind was blanked out. The dozen or so educated telepaths in the room could detect only a deep beat of sadness. “I shall prove,” continued the inexorable advocate, “that this mon- ster engaged our late Provinarch in conversation in a downtown bar, surreptitiously placed a lethal dose of skon in the Provinarch’s glass, and that Troy and his wife — who, incidentally, paid the extreme pen- alty herself early this — ” “Objection !” cried Poole, spring- ing. to his feet. The defendant, not his wife, is now on trial.” “Su^ined,” declared the judge. “The advocate may not imply to the evaluators that the possible guilt of the present defendant is in any way determined by the proven guilt of any past defendant. The ev'alu- ators must ignore that implication. Proceed, advocate.” “Thank you, your honor.” He turned again to the evaluators’ box and scanned them with a critical eye. “I shall prove that the prisoner and the late Mrs. Troy, after poison- ing Provinarch Blogshak, carried his corpse into their sedan, and that they proceeded then to a deserted area on the outskirts of the city. Unknown to them they were pur- sued by four of the mayor’s body^ guards, who, alas, had been lured aside at the ’ bar by Mrs. Troy. Psychometric determinations taken by the police laboratory will be -offered to prove it was the prisoner’s intention to dismember the corpse and burn it to hinder the work of the police in tracing the crime to him. He had got only as far as severing the head when the guards’ ship swooped up and hovered overr head. He tried to run back to his own ship, where his wife was wait- ing, but the guards blanketed the area with a low-voltage stun.” The advocate paused. He was not getting the reaction in the evaluators he deserved, but he knew the fault was not his. He was puzzled; he would have to con- clude quickly. “Gentlemen,” he continued grave- ly, "“for this terrible thing, the TIME TBAP 11

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Provipxe demands die life of Jon Troy. 'Ihc monster must enter tlie cliamber He bowled to tlie judge auu letumcd to counseis’ table. 'Ihe judge acknowledged the re- tirement and turned to Poole. “Does the defense wish to make an open- ing statement?” “The defense reiterates its plea of ‘not guilty’ and makes no other statement,” grated the old man. There was a buzz around the advocates’ end of the table. An alert defense wfth a w’eak case al- ways opened to the evaluators. VVho was this Poole ? What did he have? Had they missed a point? The prosecution was committed now. They’d haie to start with their witnesses. The advocate arose. “Tlic prose- cution offers as witness Mr. Fon- stile.” “Mr. Fonstile!” called the clerk, A burly, resentful-looking man blundered his way from the benches and walked up to the witness box and was sworn in. Poole was on his feet. “May it ] )lease the court !” he croaked.. The iudge eyed him in surprise. “Have you an objection, Mr. Poole?” “No objection, your honor,” rasped the little man, without ex- pression. ‘T would only like to say that the testimony of this witness, the bartender in the Shawn Hotel, is 'probably offered by my opponent to prove facts which the defense readily admits, namely, that the wit- ness observed Mrs. Troy entice the four bodyguards of the deceased to another part of the room, that ■’the present defeniant surreptitious- ly placed a »)owder in the wine of the deceased, that the deceased dj-ank tije wine and coUapsed, and wus carried out of tlie room by the defendant, followed by his wife.” He bowed to the judge and sat down. The judge was nonplussed. “Mr. Poole, do you understand that you are responsible for the defense of this prisoner, and that he is charged with a capital offense?” “That is my understanding, your honor.” “Then if prosecution is agree- able, and wishes t' elicit no further evidence from the witness, he will be excused.” The advocate looked puzzled, but called the next witness. Dr. War- kon, of tlie Provincial Police Labor- atory. Again Poole was on his feet This time tlie whole court eyed him expectantly. Even Troy stared at him in fascination. “May it please the court,” came the now-familiar monotone, “the witness called by the opposition probably expects to testify that the deceased’s finger prints were found on the wineglass in question, that traces of deceased’s saliva were identified in the liquid content of the glass, and that a certain quan- tity of skon was found in the wine remaining in the glass.” “And one other point, Mr. Poole,” added the Peoples’ advocate. “Dr. Warkon was going to testify that death .from skon poisoning normally occurs within thirty sec- A STOUNmXO sriENI’E-FICTION

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onds, owing to syncope. Docs the defense concede that?” “Yes.” “The witness is then excused,” ordered tlae judge. The prisoner straightened up. Troy studied his attorney curiously. The mysterious Poole with the tantalizing face, the man so highly recommended .by the League, had let A.nn go to her death with the merest shadow of a defense. And now he seemed even to state the prosecution's case rather than de- fend the prisoner. Nowlierc in the courtroom did Troy see a League member. But then, it would be folly for (icnerai Blade to attempt his rescue. That ' would attract unwelcome attention to the League. He had been abandoned, and was on his own. Many League officers had been killed by Blogshak’s men, but rarely in the devitalizing cham- ber. It was a point of honor to die weapon in hand. Hi.s first step would be to seize a blaster from one of the guards, use the judge as a shield, and try to escape through the judge’s chambers. lie would wait until he was put on the staml. It shouldn’t be long, considering how Poole was cutting corners, The advocate was conferring with his assistants. “Wliat’s Poole up to?” one of them asked. “If he is going on this far, wh)* not get him to admit all the facts constitut ing a prima facie ease : M.alice, in- tent to kill, and all that?” The advocate’s eyes gleamed. “J think I know what he’s up to now,” he exulted. .“I believe he’s for- gotten an elementary theorem of criminal law. He’s going tp admit everything, then demand we pro- duce Blogshak's corpse. He must know it was stolen from the body- guards when their ship landed at the port. No corpse, no murder, he’ll say. But you don’t need a corpse to prove murder. We’ll hang him with his own rope!” He arose and addressed the judge. ‘‘May it please the court, the prosecution would like to ask if the defense will admit certain other facts w'hich I stand ready to prove..” The judge frowmed. “The pris- oner pleaded not guilty. Therefore t!ie court will not permit any ad- mission of the defense to the effect that the prisoner did kill the de- ceased, unless he wants to change his plea.” He looked inquiringly at Poole. “I understand, your honor,” sai<l Poole. “May I hear what facts the learned prosecutor wishes me to ac- cede to?” For a moment the prosecutor studied his enigmatic antagonist like a master swordsman. “First, the prisoner administered a lethal dose of skon to the deceased with malice aforethought, and with intent to kill. Do you concede that?” “Yes.” “And that the deceased collapsed within a few seconds and was car- ried from the room by the defendant and his wife?” “We agree to that.” “And that the prisoner carried the TIME TRAP IB

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body to the city outskirts and there decapitated it ?” “I have already admitted that.” The twelve evaluators, a selected group of trained experts in the es- timation of probabilities, followed this unusual procedure silentJy. “Then your honor, the prosecu- tion rests.” The advocate telt dizzy, out of his depth. He felt he had done all that was necessary to condemn the prisoner. Yet Poole seemed absolutely contident, almost bored. ' ■ “Do you have any witnesses, Mr. Poole,” qyeried tlte judge. ‘T will ask tire loan oi Dr. War- kon, if the Peoples’ advocate will be so kind,” rej)licd the little nian. *T’m willing.” The advocate was Ireginuing to look harassed. Dr. VVarkon was sworn in. “Dr, Warkon, did not the psy- chometer show that the prisoner in- tended to kill Blogshak in the tavern and decapitate him at the edge of the city?” “Yes, sir.” ‘^Vas, in fact, the deceased dead when he was carried from the hotel?” “lie I’ad enough skon in him to have kilkd forty people.” “Please answer the question.” “Well, I don’t know. I presume he was dead. As an expert, looking at all the evidence, I should say he was dead. If he didn’t die in the room, he was certainly dead a few .seconds later.V “Did you feel his pulse at any time, or make any examination to determine the time of death?” “Well, no ” Now, thought the advocate, comes the no corpse, no murder. If he tries that, I’ve got him. But Poole was not to be pushed. “Would you say the deceased was dead when the prisoner’s ship reached the city limits ?” “A)')solutely !” “When you, as police investigator, examined the scene of the decapi- tation, what did you find?” “The place where the corpse had lain was easily identified. Depr^- sions in the sand marked the back, head, arms, and legs. The knife was lying where the prisoner dro])ped it. Marks of landing gear of the ])risohers .shi]') were about forty feet away. Lots of blood, of course.” “Where was the l>Io.od ?” “About four feet away from the head, straight out.” Poole let the statenrent sink in, then : “Dr. Warkon. as a doctor of medicine, do you realize the signifi- cance of wliat you have just said?” The witness gazed at his inquisi- tor as though hypnotized. “Four feet . . . jugular spurt — ” he mut- tered to no one. He stared in won- der. first at the withered, masklike face before him, then at the advo- cate, then at the judge. “Your honor, the decea.sed’s heart was still beating when the prisoner first ap- plied the knife. The poison didn’t kill him !” .An excited buzz resounded through the courtroom. Poole turned to the judge. “Your honor, I move for a summary judg- ment of acquittal.” 14 .ASTOUNDING .SCIBNOE-FTOTION

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The advocate sprang to his feet, wordless. “Mr. Poole/' remonstrated the judge, “your behavior this morning has been extraordinary, to say the least. On the bare fact that the prisoner killed with a knife instead of with poison, as the evidence at first indicated, you ask summary acquittal. The court will require an explanation.” ing, but not murder. If there was any murder, it must have been at the instant he decapitated the 'de- ceased. Yet what was his intent on the city outskirts ? He wanted to mutilate a corpse. His intent was not to murder, but to mutilate. We have the act, but not the intent — no mens rea. Therefore the act was not murder, but simply mutila- tion of a corpse — a crime punishable “Yourlionor” — there was a ghost by fine or imprisonment, but not of a smile flitting about the prim, death.” tired mouth — “to be guilty of a Troy’s mind was whirling. This crime, a man must intend to com- incredible, dusty little man had mit a crime. There must be a mens freed him. rea, as the classic expression goes. “But Troy’s a murderer!” The act and the intent must coin- shouted the advocate, his face white, cide. Here they did not. Jon Troy “Sophisms can’t restore a life!” intended to kill the Prbvinarch in “The court does not recognize the bar of the Shawn Hotel. He the advocate!” said the judge harsh- gave him poison, but Blogshak ly. “Cut those remark^ from the didn’t die of it. Certainly up to record,” he directed the scanning the time the knife was thrust into clerk. “This court is guided by the Blogshak’s throat, Troy may have principles of common law descended been guilty of assault and kidnap- from ancient England. The learned r-fMJ] TRAP 15

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counsel lor the defense has staled those principles correctly. Homicide is not murder . if there is no intent to kill. And mere intent to kill is not murder if the poison doesn’t take effect. This is a strange, an unusual case, and it is revolting for me to do wltat I have to do. ] acquit the prisoner.” “Your honor!” cried the advo- cate. Receiving recognition, he pro- ceeded. “This . . . this felon should not escape completely. He should not be’ permitted to make a travesty of the law. His own counsel ad- mits he has broken the statutes on kidnaping, assault, and mutilation. 'J'he evaluators can at least return a verdict of guilty on those counts.” “I am just as sorry as you are,” ri^lied the judge, “but 1 don’t hnd those counts in the indictment. Vou should have included them.” “If you release him, your honor, I’ll rc-arre,st him and frame a new indictment.” "This court will not act on it. It is contrary to the Constitution of this Province for a person to be prosecuted twice on the same charge or on a charge which should have been included in the original indict- ment. Tlie Peoples’ advocate is estopped from taking further action on this case. This is the final ruling of this court.” He took a drink of water, wrapped his robes about him, and strode through the rear of the courtroom to his chambers. Troy and Poole, the saved and the savior, eyed one another with the same speculative look of their first meeting. Poole opened the door of the ’copter parked outside the Judiciary Building and motioned for Troy to enter. Troy froze in the act of climbing in. A man inside the cab, with a face like a claw, was pointing a blaster at his chest. The man was Bhgskak! Two men recognizable as the Provinardi’s bodyguards suddenly materialized behind Troy. “Don’t give us any trouble, major,” murmured Poole easily. “Better get in.” The moment Troy was )>ushed into the subterranean suite he -icnsed Ann was alive— drugged insensate still, but alive, and near. This knowledge suppressed momentarily Blogshalv’s incredible existence and Poole’s lictrayal. Concealing his elation, he turned to Poole. ‘T should like to see my wife.” , Poole motioned silently to one of the guards, who pulled back sliding doors. Beyond a glass panel, which was actually a transparent wall of a tile room, Ann lay on a high white metal bed. A nurse was on the far side of the bed, exchanging glances with Poole. At some unseen signal from him the nurse swabbed Ann’s left arm and thrust a syringe into it. A shadow crossed Troy’s face. “What is the nurse doing?” “In a moment Mrs. Troy will awaken. Whether she stays awake depends on you.” “On me? What do you mean?” “Major, what you are about to feam can best be demonstrated ASTOUNDING SCIENCK-PICTION

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rather than described. 'Sharg, the rabbit!”' TThe bettle-browed man opened a large enamel pan on the table. A white rabbit eased, its way out, wrinkling its nose gingerly. Sbarg lifted a cleaver from the table. There was a dash of metal, a spurt of blood, and the rabbit’s head fell to the. floor. Sliarg picked it up by the ciirs and held it, up expect- antly, The eyes were glazed almost shut. The rabbity's body lay. limp in the pan. At a word from Poole, Sbarg carefully replaced the severed head, pressing it gentl}^ to the bloody neck stub. Withui secunds the nose twitched, the eyes blinked, and the ears perked up. The animal shook itself vigorously, scratched once or twice at the bloody ring around its neck, then began nibbling at a head of lettuce in the p<m, Troy’s mind was racing. The facts were falling in line. All at once everything iiuide sense. Witli knowledge came utmost wariness. The next move Was up to Poole, who was eMniifting w*ith keen eyes the effect of his demonstration on Troy. “Major, .1 don’t know how much you have surmised, but at least you canndt, help realizing tliat life, even highly organized vertebrate life, is resistant to 4eatli in your presence.” Troy folded his arms but votiin' teered nothing. He was finally get- ting a glimpse of the vast and secret power supporting the Previnarch’s tyranny, loi^ suspected by the League but never rerified. *'You could not be expected to discover this rriarvelous property in TIMK TH.VP yourself excej^i by the wildest chance,” continued Poole. “As a matter of fact, our staff discovered it only when Blpgshak and his hys- terical guards reported to us, after your little esGapade. But we have been on the lookout for your type for yirars. Several mutants with this, chacteristic have been predicted by pur probability geneticists for this century, but yOu are the first known to us — really perhaps the only one in existence. One is all we need, “As a second and final test of yqur powder, we decided to try the effect of your aura o.n. a person in the devitalizing chamber. For that reason w*c. permitted Mrs. Troy to be (londernned, when we could easily .have prev^ted it. As you now know, your power sustained your wife’s life against a strong drain of potential. At my instruc- tion sl^e drugged herself in her cell simply to satisfy the doctor who checked her pulse and reflexes after- wards. . When the staff — my ployers — examined her here, dhey were convinced that you had the mutation they were looking for, and we put the finishing touches on our plans to save you from the cham- ber.” Granting I have some. Strang biotic influence, fhPUght TrOy, still, something’s wTong. He says his bunch became interested in me after my attempt on Blogshak. Bttt Poole was at the assassination meet- ing! W’liat is his independent in- terest ? Poole studied him curiously. “1 doubt that you realize what tremen- n

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dous efforts have been made to in- siaxc yOur presence here. For the past two weeks the staff has hired several thousand persons to under- mine the critical faculties of the four possible judges and nine hun- dred evaluators who might have heard your case. Judge Gallon, for exaniple, was not in an analytical mood this morning because we saw to it that he won the Province Chess Chamihonship with his Inner Gambit — a prize he has sought for thirty years. But if he had fooled us and given your case to the eval- uators, we were fairly certain of a favorable decision. You noticed how they were not concentrating on the advocate’s opening statement? They couldn’t ; they were too full of the incredible good fortune they liad encountered the previous week. Sommers had been promoted to a full professorship at the Provincial University. Gunnard’s obviously faulty thesis on space strains had l)een accepted by the Steric Quar- terly— after we bought the maga- zine. But why go on? Still, if the iniprobal)le had occurred, and you had been declared guilty by the evaluators, vve would simply have spirited you away from the court- room. With a few unavoidable exceptions, every spectator in the room was a trained staff agent, ready to use his weapons— ^though in the presence of your aura, I doubt they could have hurt anyone. “Troy, the staff had to get you here, but we preferred to do it quietly. Now, why are you here ? T’ll tell 3^u. Your aura, we think, will keep — ” Poole hesitated. It “Your aura will keep . . . /f . . . from dying during an approaching crisis in its life stream.” “It? What is this ‘it’? And what makes you so sure I’ll stay ?” “The staff has not authorized me to tell you more concerning the nature of the entity you are to pro- tect. Suffice to say that It is a living, sentient being. And I think yQu’ll stay,* because the hypo just given Mrs. Troy was pure sf?on.” Trdy had already surmised as much. The move was perfect. If he stayed near her, Ann, though steeped in the deadliest known poison, woukl not die. But why had they been so sure he would not stay willtngdy, without Ann as hostage? He ’pathed the thought to Poole, who curtly refused to answer. “Now, major. Pm going to turn this wing of the City Building over to you. For your information, your aura is effective: for a certain dis- tance within the building, but just how far I’m not going to tell you. However, you are not {jerniitted to leave your apartment at all. The staff has demoted the Provinarch, and he’s now the corporal of your bodyguard. He would be exceed- ingly embarrassed if’ you succeeded in leaving. Meals will be brought to you regularly. The cinematic and micro library is well stocked on your favorite subjects. Special concessions may even he made as to things you want in town. But you can never touch your wife again. That pane of glass will al- ways be between you. A psychic receptor tuned to your personality A ST O U N D I NO SCI E NC E -PICT 1 O N

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integration is fixed wkhin Mrs. Troy’s room. If you break the glass panel, or in any other way attempt to enter the room, the receptor will automatically .actuate a bomb me- chanism imbedded beneath Mrs. Troy’s cerebellum. She would be blown to little bits — each of them alive as long as you were around. It grieves us to be crude, but the situation requires some such safe- guard.” “When will my wife recover consciousness?” “Within an hour or so. But what’s your hurry ? You’ll be here longer than you think.” The little lawyer seemed lost in thought for a moment. Then he signaled Blogshak and the guards, and the four left. Blogshak favored Troy with a venemous scowl as he closed and locked the door. There was complete and utter silence. Even the rabbit sat quietly on the table, blinking its eyes ’ at Troy. Left alone, the man surveyed the room, his perceptions palping every square foot rapidly but carefully. He found nothing unusual. He debated whether to explore the wing further or to wait until Ann awak- ened. He decided on the latt^ course. The nurse had left. The^ were together, with just a sheet of glass between. He explored Ann’s room mentally, found nothing. Then he walked to the center table and picked up the rabbit. There was the merest suggestion of a cicatrix encircling the neck. Wonderful, but frightful, thought Troy. Who, what, am I? TIME TH.4P He put the rabbit back in the box, pulled a comfortable armchair against the wall opposite the glass panel, where he had a clear view of Ann’s room, and began a me- thodical attempt to rationalize the events of the day. He was jolted from his reverie by an urgent ’palhic call from Ann. After a flurry of tender perceptions each unlocked his mind to the other. Poole had planted an incredible message in Ann’s ESP lobe. “Jon,” she warned, “it’s coded to the Dar — ... I mean, it’s coded to the notes and frequencies of our last c(^certo, in the death! house. You’ll have to synchronize. I’ll start.” How did Poqle know we were familiar with the concerto? thought T roy. “Think on this carefully, Jon Troy, and guard it well,” urged Poole’s message. ‘T cannot risk my identity, but I am your friend. It — the Outcast — has shaped the destinies of vertebrate life on earth for millions of years, for two pur- poses. One is a peculiar kind of food. The other is . . . you. You have been brought here to preserve an evil life. But I urge you, develop your latent powers and destroy that life! “Jon Troy, the evil this entity has wreaked upon the earth, en- tirely through his human agents thus far, is incalculable. It will grow even worse. You thought a sub-electronic virus caused the hun- dred thousand deaths which launched you on your assassination junket. Not so! The monster in IB

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the earth directly beneath you simply drained them of vital force, in their homes, on the street, in the theater, anywhere and everywhere. Your piiny League has been light- ing the Outcast for a generation without the faintest conception of the real enemy. If you have any love for humanit)', search Elog- shak’s miiid today. I'he staff phy- sicians will be in this wing of the building today, too. Probe them. This evening, if I am still alive, 1 shall explain more, in person, free from Blogsliak’s crew.’* “You have been wondering about the nature of the being whose life you are protecting,” said Poole in a low voice, as he looked about the room. “As you learned when you arched the minds of the physicians this morning, he is nothing human. I believe him to have been vrounded in a battle with his own kind, and that he has Iain in his present pit for millions of years, possibly since pre-Cambrian times. He probably has extraordinary powers even in his weakened state, but to my knowledge he has never used them.” “Why not?” asked Troy. ■ “He must be afraid of attracting the unwelcome attention of those who look for him. But he has main- tained his life somehow. The waste products of his organic metabolism are fed into our sewers daily. He has a group of physicians and phy- sicists— a curious mixture! — who keep in repair his three-dimensional neural cortex and run a huge ad- ministrative organization designed for his protection.'* “Seems harmless enough, so far,” said Troy. “He’s harmless except for one venemous habit. I thought I told you about it in the message I left with Ann. You must have verified it if you probed Blogshak thor- oughly.” “But I couldn’t understand such near caimibalism in so advanced — ” “Certainly not cannibalism! Do we think of ourselves as cannibals when we eat steaks? Still, that’s my main objectioa to Iiim. His vitality must be maintained by tli«- absorption of other vitalities, pref- erably as high up the evolutionary- scale as possible. Our thousands of deaths monthly can be traced to his frantic hunger for vital fluid. The devitalizing dci^rtnicnt, which Blogshak used to run, is the largest section of the staff.” “But what about the people tvln attend him? Does he snap up any of them?” “He Itasn’t yet. Tlicy all have a pact with him. Help him, and he helps them. Every one of his band dies old, rich, evil, and envied by their ignorant neighbors. He gives them everything they want. Some- times they forget, like Blogshak, that society can stand just so much of their evil.” “Assuming all you say is true — how does it concern my own prob- lem, getting Ann out of here and notifying the League?” Poole shook his head dubiously. “You probably have some tentative plans to hypnotize Blogshak ami make him turn off the screen. But no one on the staff understands the 20 ASTOITNOINO SCIKNOE-PTOTIOK

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scr^n. None of them can turn it off, because none of them turned it on. The chief sui^con believes it to be a direct, focused emanation from a radiator made long ago and Icnown now only to the Out- cast. J.5ut doivt think ot escaping just yet. can strike a trcmcn- reathing from Ik\voikI tlie door. “To perform this colossal sur- gery, the staff must disconnect for a few seconds all of the essential neural trunks. When this is done, but tor your aura, the Outcast would* forever after remain a mass of senseless protoplasm and elec- tronic efitiipment. With your aura they can make the most dan'.'orous repairs In ]wrfcct safety. When the last neural i.s down, you simply sup]>ress t'onr aura and the Outcast is dead. Then you could force your way out. From then on. the earth could go its merry way iinhampcred Vour League would eventually gain ascendancy and — *' . “What about Ana?” asked Ti-oy curtly. “Wouldn’t she die along with the Outcast ?” “Didn’t both of you take an oath to sacri6ce each other before you’d injure the League or abandon aji assignment ?” “Tliat’s a nice legal point,” re- plied Troy, watching the corridor door behind Poole open a quaiter of ah inch. “I met Ann three years ago in a madhouse, where I had hidden away after a League assign- ment. She wasn’t mad, but the stuijid overseer didn’t know it. She had the ability to project herself to other probaI)ility worlds. I liiar- rted her to obtain a warning instru- ment of extreme delicacy and accuracy. Until that night in the death house, I’d have altided by r.eagne rules and abandoned her if necessary. IWt no longer. Any- plan which includes her death is out. Suffering humanity can go climb a tree.” Poole’s \ oice was dry and crack- ing. “1 presumed you’d say that. You leave me no recourse. After 1 tell you who I am you will be will- ing to turn off your aura even at the cost of Ann’s life. I am your . . . agh~” A knife whistled through the open door and sank in Poole’s neck. Blogshak and Sharg rushed in. liach man carried an ax. “You dirty traitor!” screamed rdogshak. His ax crashed through the skull of the little old man even as Troy sprang forward. Sharg caught T roy under the chin with his ax handle. For some minutes after- ward Troy was dimly aware of

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dioppicg, chopping, choppii^. Troy's aching jaw finally aw<^e him. He was lying on the sofa, where bis keepers had evidently l^aced him. There was an undefin-: able raw odor about the room. The carpet had been changed. Troy's stomach muscles tensed. ■ What had this done to Ann ? He was unable to catch her ESP lobe. Probably out wandering through the past, or future. While he tried to toudi her mind, there was a knock on the door, and Blogshak ^ered with a man dressed in surgeon’s while. "Our operation apparently was a success, despite your little mishap,” 'pathed the latter to Troy. “The next thirty years will tell us defi- nitely whether we did this correctly. I'm afraid you’ll have to stick around until then. 1 understand you're great chiniis with the Pro%'in- arch — ex-Provinarch, sliould I say? I’m sure he'll entertain you. I’m sorry about Poole. I'oor fellow! Muft'ed his opportunities. Might have risen very high on the staff. But everything works out for the best,, doesn’t it?” Troy glared at him wordlessly. “Once we’re out of here,” 'pathed Troy in music code that afternoon, “we’ll get General Blade to drop a plute fission on this building. It all revolves around the bomb under your cerebellum. Tf we can deac- tivate either the screen or the bomb. we*re out. It's child’s play to scat- ter Blc^shak's bunch.” “If I had a razor,” replied Ann, *T could cut the thing out. 1 can feel it under my neck muscles.” “Don’t talk nonsense. What can you give me on Poole ?” “He definitely forced you ta choose the red ball at the League meeting. Also, he knew he was going to be killed in your room. That made him nervous.” “Did he know he was going to^be killed, or simply anticipated the possibility?” “He knew. He had^ seen ii be~ fore r Troy began pacing restlessly, up and down before the glass panel, but never looking at Ann, who lay quietly in bed apparently reading a book. The nurse sat in a chair at the foot of Ann!s bed. arms folded, implacably staring at her ward. “Puzzling, very puzzling,*’ mused Troy... “Any idea what he was going to tell me about my aura?” “Xo.” “Anything on his identity?” “I don’t know — I had a feeling that I . . . we — No, it’s all too vague, T noticed just one thing for certain.” “Wliat was that?” asked Troy. He stopped pacing and appeare<l to be examining titles on tlic book- slielve.s. "fie was wealing your rosebud!” “But that’s crazy ! I had it on all day. You must have be<m mis- taken.” “You know I can’t make errors on such matters.” “That’s so.” Troy resu|ning his pacing. “Yet, I refuse to areept the proposition that both of us were wearing my rosebud at the same ASTOrxniNG SCtEXCTC-FICTlOir

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iastant. Well, never mind.. While we’re figuring a way to deactivate your bomb, we’d also better give a little thought to solving my aura. . “The solution is known — we have to assume that our unfortunate friend knew it. Great Galaxy 1 What our Le^ue biologists wouldn’t give for a chance at thisi We must idiange our whole con- cept of living nudter. Have you ever heard of the immortal heart created by Alexis Carrel ?” he asked abruptly. “No.” “At some time during the Second Renaissance, early twentieth cen- tury, I believe. Dr. Carrel removed a bit of heart tissue from an em- bryo chick and put it in a nutrient solution. The tissue began to ex- pand and contract rhythmically. Every two days the nutrient solu- tion was renewed and excess growth cut away. Despite the catastrophe that had overwhelmed the chick — as a chick — the individual tissue lived on independently because the requirements of its cells were met. This section of heart tissue' beat for nearly three centuries, until it was finally lost in tlie Second Atomic War.” “Are you suggesting that the king’s men can put Hum])ty Dumpty together again if due care has been taken to nourish each part?” “It’s a possibility. Don’t forget the skills developed by the Mus- covites in grafting skin, ears, corneas, and so on.” “But that’s a long process — it takes weeks.” “Then let’s try another line. Con- 3:1MB THAT ^er this: The .amodia lives' in 4 flmd medium. He bmnps into his food, which is goserdly bactou or bits of decaying protetn, flows around it, digests it at Idsurei ex- cretes his waste matter, and moves on. Now go on up the evolutionary scale past the coelenterates and Bat- worms, until we reach the first trdfy three-dimensional animals — the co- elomates. . The flatworm had to be flat because he had no blood vessels. His food simply soaked into him. But cousin roundworm, one of the coelomates, grew plump and solid, because his blood vessels fed His specialized interior cells, whiA would otherwise have no access to food. “Now consider a specialized ccU —say a nice long muscle cell in the rabbit’s neck. It can’t run around in stagnant water looking for a meal. It has to have its breakfast brought to it, and its excrement carried out by special messenger, or it soon dies.” Troy picked a book from the shelf and leafed through it idly. Ann wondered mutely « whether her nurse had been weaned on a lemon. “This messenger,” continued Troy, “is the blood. It eventually reaches the muscle cell by means of a capillary — a minute blood ves- sel about the size of a red corpuscle. Tlie blood in the capillary gives the cell everything it needs and absorbs the cell waste matter. The muscle cell needs a continuously fresh sup- ply of oxygen, sugar, amino-acids, fats, vitamins, sodium, calcium, and potassium salts, hormones,, water.

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and maybe other things. It gets these from the henn>gIobhi and plasma, and it sheds carbon dioxide, ammonium compounds, and so on. Our cell can store up a little food within its own boundaries to tide it over for a number of hours. But oxygen it must have, every instant." “You’re just making the problem worse," interposed Ann. “If you prov& that blood must circulate oxy- gen continuously to preserve life, you’ll have yourself out on a limb. If you’ll excuse the term, the rab- bit’s circulation was dcctsivelv cut off.” “That’s the poser," agreed Troy. “The blood didn’t circulate, but the cells didn't die. And think of this a moment: Blood is normally al- kaline, with a pH of 7.4. When it absorbs caibon dioxide as a cell excretion, blood becomes acid, and this steps up respiration to void the excess carbon dioxide, via the lungs. But so far as I could sec, the rabbit didn’t even sigh after he got his head back. There was certainly no heavy breathing.” 24 “I’ll have to take yonr word for it; I was out cold.” "Yes, I know.” Troy began pac- ing the room again. “It isn't feas- ible to suppose the rabbit’s plasma was buffered to an unusual degree. That would mean an added con- centration of sodium bicarbonate and an increased solids content. The cellular water would dialyze into the blood and kill the creature by simple dehydration.” “Maybe he had unusual reserves of hemoglobin,” suggested Ann. “That woultl take care of your oxygen problem.” Troy rubbed his chin. “I doubt it. Tliere are about five million red cells in a cubic millimeter of blood. If there arc very many more, the cells w'ould oxidize muscle tissue at a tremendous rate, and the blood would grow hot, literally cooking the brain. Our rabbit would die of a raging fever. Hemo- globin dissolves about fifty times as much oxygen as plasma, so h doesn’t take much liemoglobin to start an internal conflagration.” ASTOrNDINO SOIKNCn-FTCTlOX

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‘‘\et the secret must lie in the . hemoglobin. You just admitted that the cells could get along for long periods with only oxygen,” persisted Ann. “It’s worth thinking about. We must learn more about the chem- istry of the cell. You take it easy for a few days while I go througli Poole’s library.” *'Could I do otherwise?” mnr- timred Ann. . . thus the effect of conCine- ment varies from person to person. The daustrophobe deteriorates rap- idly, but the agoraphobe mellows, and may find excuses to avoid the escape attempt. The person of high mental and physical attainments can avoid atrophy by directing his every thought to the destruction of the confining force. In this case, the increment in mental prowess is 5./ times the logarithm of the duration of confinemeni measured in years. The intelligent aiui determined prisoner can escape if he lives long enough** — J. and A. T., An Intro- duction to Prison Escape, 4th Edi- tion, I.,eague Publishers, p. l4. In 1811 Avogadro, in answer to the confusing problems of combin- ing chemical weights, invented the molecule. In 1902 Einstein re- .solved an endless array of incom- patible facts by su^esting a mass- energy relation. ' Three centuries later, in the tenth year of his im- prisonment, Jon Troy was driven !ii near-despair to a similar stand. In one sure stq) of dazzling intui- tion, he hypothesized the viton. “The secret goes back to our old talks on cell preservation,” he .ex- plained with iUrC^tie^^ exdte-' mmt to Ann. “The cell can live for hours without proteins and salts, because it has means of stbrii^ these nutrients from jxtst meats. But oxygen it must have. Tltt hem<^lobin takes up molecular oxy- gen in the lung caipiQaries, ozonizes it, and, since hemin is easily re- duced, the red cells give up oxygen to the ijmscle cells that need it, ih return for carbon d^ioxide. After if takes up the carbon dioxide, hemin turns purple and enters the vein system on the way back to the lungs, and we. can forget it. “Now, what is hemin? We can break it down into etiopyrophorin, which, like chlorophyll, contains four pyrrole groups. The secret of chlorophyll has - been known- for years. Under a photon catalyst of extremely short wave length, su<^ as ultraviolet light, cldorophyO seizes molecule after molecule of carbon dioxide and synthesizes starches '^and sugars, giving off oxy- gen. Hemin, with its eti(^yr(^horin, works quite similarly, except tl^ it doesn’t need ultraviolet l^ht. Now — ” “But animal cell metabolism works the other way,” objected Ann. “Our cells take oxygen and excrete carbon diosdde.” “It dq?ends which cdls you are talking about,” reminded Tr<^. “The red corpuscle takes up carbon dioxide just as its plant cousin, chlorophyll, does, and they both excrete oxygen. Oxygen is just as much an excrement of the red cell TIME THAI’

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as carbon dioxide is of the muscle cell/' “That’s true,” admitted Ann, “And that's where the vitoa comes in,” continued Troy. “It preserves the status quo of cell chemistry. Suppose that an oxygen atom has just been taken up by an amino>acid molecule within the cell protoplasm. The amino-acid im- mediately becomes unstable, and starts to split out carbon dioxide. In the red corpuscle, a mass of hemin stands by to seize the carbon dioxide and offer more oxygen. But the exchange never takes place. Just as the amino-acid and the hemin reach toward one another, their electronic attractions are sud- d^ly neutralized by a bolt of pure energy front me : The viton ! Again and again the cells try to excliange, with' the same result. They can’t die from lack of oxygen, because their individual molecules never at- tain an oxygen deficit. The viton gives a very close approach to im- mortality I” “But lije seem to be getting older. Perhaps your vitons don’t reach every cdl?” “Probably not,” admitted Troy. “They must; stream radially from some central point within me, and of course they would decrease in concentration according to the in- verse square law of light. Even so, they would keep enough cells alive to preserve life as a whole. In the case of the rabbit, after the cut cell surfaces were rejoined, there were still enough of them alive to start the business of living ^fain. One might suppose, too, 2f that the viton accelerates the re- establishment of cell boundaries in the damaged areas. That would be particularly important with the nerve cells.” “All right,” said Ann. “You’ve got the viton. What arc you going to do with it?” “That’s another puzzler. First, what part of my body .docs it come from? There must be some sort of a globular discharge area fed by a relatively small but impenetrable duct. If we suppose a muscle con- trolling the duct — ” “What you need is an old Geiger- Miiller,” suggested Ann. “Locate your discharge globe first, then the blind spot on it caused by the duct entry. The muscle has to be at that point.” “T wonder — ” mused Troy. “\\V have a burnt-out cinema prcgcctioii bulb around here somewhere. The vacuum ought to be just aliout soft enough by now to ionize readily. The severed filament can be the two electron poles.” He laughed mirth- lessly : “I don’t know why I .should b</ in a hurry. I won’t be able to turn off the viton stream even if I should discover the duct-muscle.” Weeks later, Troy found his viton sphere, just below the cerebral frontal lobe. The duct led some- where into the pineal region. Very gingerly he investigated tlic duct environment. A small but dense muscle mas.s surrounded the entry of the duct to the bulk of radiation. On the morning of the first day of the thirty-first year of their im- prisonment, a ffew minutes before the nurse was due with the skon ASTOUNDING SCTBNCK-PICTION

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hypo, Ann ’pathed to Troy that she thought the screen was down. A .joint search of the glass psfinel a£-> finned this. Ann was stunned, like a caged canary that suddenly notices the door is open — she fears to stay, yet is afraid to fly away. “Get your clothes on, dear,” urged Troy. “Quickly now ! If we (k)n’t contact the Lej^e in the next ten minutes, we never shall.” * She dressed like an automaton. Troy picked the lock on the cor- ridor door noiselessly, with a key he had long ago made for this day, and opened the portal a quarter of an inch. The corridor seemed empty for its whole half-mile length. There was a preternatural pal! of silence hanging over everything. Ordinarily, someone was always stirring about the corridor at this hour. He peered closely at the guard’s cubicle down the hall. His eyes were not what they once were, and old Blogshak had never per- mitted him to be fitted with con- tacts. He suck«i in his breath sharply. The door of tlie cubicle was open, and two bodies were visible on the floor. One of the bodies had been a guard. The green of his uniform was plainly visible. The other corpse had white hair and a face like a wrinkled, arthritic claw. It was Blogshak. Two mental processes occurred within Troy. To the cold, objec- tive Troy, the thought occurred that the viton flow was ineffective be- yond one hundred yards. Troy the human being wondered why the TTUB TRAP Outcast had not immediately reme- died this weak point in the guard system.- Heart pounding, be stepped back within the suite. He seized a chair, warned Ann out of the way, and hurled it through the glass panel. Ann stepped gii^efly through the jagged gap. He held her for a moment in his arms. Her hair was a pure white, her face furrowed. Her body sromed weak and ii^nn. But it was Ann. Her eyes were shut and she seemed to be floating through time and space. . *‘No time for a trance now!” He shook her harshly, pulling her out of the room and down the corridor. He looked for a stair. There was none. “We’ll have to chance an auto- vator!” he panted, thinking he should have taken sewne sort of bludgeon with him. If several oj the staff should come down with the ’vator, he doubted his ability to hypnotize them all. lie was greatly relieved when he saw an empty 'vator already on the subterranean floor. He leaped in, pulling y\nn behind him, and pushed the bottom to close the door. The door closed quietly, and he pushed the button for the first- floor, “We'll try the street flocu* first," he said, breathing heavily, “Don’t look around when we leave the ’vator. Just chatter quietly and act as though we owned the place.” The street floor was empty. An icy thought began to grow in Troy's mind. He stepped into a neighboring ’vator, carrying Ann with him almost bodily, closed the 27

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door, and pressed the last button. Ann was mentally out, but was try- ing to tell him something. Her thoughts were vague, unfocused. If they were pursued, wouldn't the pursuer assume they had left the building? He hoped so. ' A malicious laughter seemed to follow them up the shaft. He gulped air frantically to ease the i-oar in his ears. Ann had sunk into a semi-stupor. He cased her to the floor. The ’vator con- tinued to climb. It was now in the two hundreds. Minutes later it stopped gently at the top floor, the door opened, and Troy managed to pull Ann out into a little plaza. They were nearly a mile above the city. The penthouse roof of the City Building was really a miniature country club, with a small golf course, swimming pool, and club'' house for informal admini-strative functions. A cold wind now blew across the closely ait green. The swimming pool was empty. Troy shivered as he dragged Ann near the dangerously low guard rail and looked over the city in the early morning sunlight. As far as he could see, nothing was moving. There iverc no cars gliding at any of the authorized traffic levels, no ’copters or trans- ocean ships in the skies. For the first time, Troy’s mind sagged, and he felt like the old man he was. As he stared, gradually under- standing, yet half-imbelieving, the rosebud in his lapel began to speak. St Mai-kel condensed the thin waste of cosmic gas into several suns and peered again down into the sieve- chron. There could he no mistake — there was a standing zvave of re- current time emanating from the tiny planet. The Great One made himself small and approached the little world with cautions curiosity. Sathanas had been badly zvounded. but it zvas hard to believe his in- tegration had deteriorated to the point of permitting oscillation in time. And no intelligent life ca- pable of time travel Zi'os scheduled for this gala.vy. Who, thenf Mai- kel synchronised himself zvith the oscillation so that the events von- stiiuting it seemed id nwvc at their normal pace. His excitement nml- tiplicd he'follmved the cycle. It zvould be safest, of course, to volatilise the whole planet. But then, that courageous mite, that microscopic hupian being who had created the time trap would be lost. Extirpation zvas indicated; — a clean, fast incision done at jitst the light point of the cycle. Mai-kcl called his brothers. Troy suppressed an impulse c)t revulsion. Instead of tearing the flower from his coat, he pulled it out gently and held it at arm’s length, where he could watch the petals join and part again, in perfect mimicry of the human mouth. “Yes, little man, I am what you call the Outcast. There are no other little men to bring my me.s- sage to you, so I take this means of — ” “You mean you devitalized every ASTOUNDING SCIKNCU-PICTIO'

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man, woman, and child in the prov- ince ... in the whole world?” croaked Troy. “Yes. Within the past lew months, iny apixjtite has been aston- ishingly good, and I have succeeded in storing within my neurals enough vital fluid to carry me into the next sterechron. There I can do the same, and continue niy journey. There's an excellent little planet wailiijg for me, just bursting with genial bipedal life. I can almost feel their vital fluid within me, now. And I’m taking you along, of course, in case 1 meet some . . . old friends. We'll leave now’.” "Jon! Jon!” cried Ann, from behind him. She was standing, but weaving dizzily. Troy w’as at her side in an instant. “Even he doesn’t know’ who Poole is !” “Too late for any negative infor- mation now, dear,” said Troy dully. “But it isn’t negative. If he doesn’t know, then he w’on’t stop you from going back.” Her voice broke off in a wild cackle. Troy looked at her in sad wonder. “Jon,” she went on feverishly, “your vitons help preserve the status quo of cells by preventing chemical change, ljut that is only part of the reason they preserve life. Each viton must also contain a quantum of time flow, whidi dissolves the vital fluid of the cell and feprecipitates it into the next instant. This is the only hypothesis which explains the pre.servation of the giant neurals of the Outcast. There was no chemical change go- ing on in them which required stabilization, but sometliing liad to TIME TRAP keep the vital fluid alive. Now, if you close the duct suddenly, the impact of unreleased vitons will send you back through time in your present body, as an old man. Don’t you understand about Poole, now, Jon You will go back thirty years through time, establish yourself in tlie confidence of both the League and the staff, attend the assassina- tion conference, make young Troy choose the red liall again, defend him at the trial, and then you will die in that horrible room again. You have no choice about doing this, because it has already happened! Good-by, darling! You are Poole!” I'here was an abrupt swish. Ann had leaped over the guard rail into space. A gurgle of horror died in Troy’s throat. Still clutching the now silent I'ose in his hand, he jammed the viton muscle with all his will power, There was a sickening shock, then a flutter of passing days and nights. As he fell through time, cold fingers seemed to snatch frantically at him. But he knew he W’as safe. As he spiraled inward, Troy- Poole blinked his eyes involuntarily, as though reluctant to abandon a languorous escape from reality. He was like a dreamer awakened by having his bedclothes blown off in an icy gale. He slowly realized that this was not the first time he had suddenly been bludgeoned into reality. Every seventy years the cycle began for him once more. He knew now that seventy years ago he had completed

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another identical circle in thne. And' the lifetime before that, and the one prior. There was no beginning and no ending. The only reality was this brief lucid interval be- tween cycles, waiting for the loose ends of time to cement. He had the choice at this instant to vary the life stretun, to fall far beyond Troy's era, if he liked, and thus to end this existence as the despairing of time. What had he accom- plished? Nothing, except retain, at the cost of almost unbearable mo- notony and pain, a weapon pointed at the heart of the Outcast, a weapon he could never persuade the young Troy to use, on account of Ann. Troy old had no influence over Troy young. Poole could never persuade Troy. Peering down through the hoary wastes of time he perceived how' he had hoped to set up a cycle in the time stream, a standing wave noticeable to the entities who searched for the Outca.st. Surely with their incredible intellects and perceptions this discrepancy in the ordered universe would not go un- noticed. He had hoped that this trap in the time flow would hold tlie Outcast until relief came. But as Tiis memory rrturned he realized that he had gradually given up hope. Somehow he had gone on from a sense of duty to the race from which he had .sprung. From the depths of his aura-fed nervous system he had always found the W'ill to tr\' again. But now his nen'Ous exhaustion, increasing from c>’cle to cycle by infinitesimal amounts, seemed overpowering. A curious thought occurred to h«n. There must have been, at one time, a Troy without a Poole to guide — or entm^le — him. There must have been a beginning — some prototype Troy who selected the red ball by pure accident, and who was informed by a prototype staff of his tremendous power. After that, it ^vas easy to assume that the first. Troy “went back” as the proto- type ‘ Poole to scheme against the life of the Outcast. But searching down time, Troy- Poole now found only the old com- bination of Troy and Poole he knew so well. Hundreds, thousands, mil- lions of them, each preceding the other. As far back as he could sense, there was always a Poole hovering over a Troy. Now he would become the next Poole, en- mesh the next Troy in the web of time, and go his own way to bloody death. He could not even plan a comfortable suicide. No, to main- tain perfect oscillation of the time trap., all Pooles must always die in the same manner as the first Poole. There must be no invariance. He suppresscfl a twinge of inipiiticncc at the lack of foresight in the pro- totype Poole, “Just this once more,” he prom- ised himself wearily, "then I’m through. Next time Fll keep on falling.” General Blade .sometimes felt that leading a resistance movement was far exceeding his debt to decent society and that one day soon he would allow his peaceful nature to override his indignant pursuit of ASTOUKOIKO RCinNCR.PTCTTOJff.

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justice. Killing a man, even a very bad man, without a trial, went against his grain. He sighed and rapped on the table. “As a result of Blogshak’s mis- appropriation of funds to fight the epidemic,” he announced, “the death toll this morning reached over one hundred thousand. Does the As- sassination Subcommittee have a recommendation ?” A thin-lipped man rose from the gathering. “The Provinarch ig- nored our warning,” he said rapidly. “This subcommittee, as you all know, some days ago set an arbi- trary limit of one hundred thousand deaths. Therefore this subcommit- tee now recommends that its plan for killing the Provinarch be adopted at once. Tonight is very favorable for our — ” A man entered the room quietly and handed (lencral Blade an en- velope. The latter read it quickly, then stood up. *T beg your pardon, but I must break in,” he announced, “information 1 have just received )nay change our plans completely. This report from our intelligence service is so incredible that 1 won’t read ii to j'ou. Let’s verify it over the video.” lie switched on. the instrument. The ])cam of a local newscasting agency was focused tridimension- aily l>efore the group. It showed a huge pit or excavation which ap- ].)eared to move as the scanning newscaster moved. The news com- ments were heard in snatches. “No explosion ... no sign of any force . . . just complete disappearance, THE An hour ago the City Building was the largest structure in . . . now nothing but a gaping hole a mile deep . . . the Provinarch and his entire council were believed in con- ference ... no trace — ” General Blade turned an uncom- prehending face to the committee. “Gentlemen, I move that we ad- journ this session .pending an in- vestigation.” Jon Troy and Ann left through the secret alleyway. As he but- toned his topcoat against the chill night air, he sensed that they were being followed. “Oh, hello?” “I beg your pardon, Major Troy, and yours, madam. My name is Poole, Legal Subcommittee. You don’t know me — yet, but I feel that I know you both very well. Your textbook on prison escape has in- spired and sustained me ^lany times in the past. I was just admiring your boutonniere, major. It seems so lifelike for an artificial rosebud. I wonder if you could tell me where I might . buy one ?” Troy laughed metallicly. “It’s not artificial. Pve worn it for weeks, but it's a real flower, from my own garden. It just won’t die.” “Extraordinary,” murmured Poole, fingering the red blossom in his own lapel. “Could we run in here for a cocktail ? Bartender Eonstile will fix us something special, and we can discuss a certain matter you really ought to know about.” The doorman of the Shawn Hotel bowed to the three as they went inside. ' END TIMK TRAP

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SMALLER THAN YOU THINK BV KENNETH CBAT in a culture that luu! spread to the stars hy the slow, and painful process of spending lifvtrmes in interstellar flight, the faster than light ship xcas a xconderful boon — 7vasn*t it? flUistrated by Orban When the mile-long ship emerged no kmger a mere pip on the detector from h)T)erspace the video room screen. As a solid reality, it was a was crowded to capacity. The plan- beantifnl enough sight, et which was ilYcir {i(\stinutiou was Eccn from the ship’s native Ex- 83 ASTOUXl>TXO aClEXCF-nCTlON

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celsia, a goodly six light-years dis- tant, the spectroscope had hinted at its existence. Its primary sun was of the right type, the nwst favor- able intensity range, the exact sj)cc- iral age, to favor a heliod iilaucl — one favorable to human life. And if one so existed, in this old-scttlcd region of space, it hardly could have escaped being colonized. “About ^ven thousand miles in diameter” murmured the ship’s as- trophysicist to the captain. Who cared about diameters, thought the as^mbled dozens of men, this is a hunt strictly for people. “Is there H detectable atmosphere?” “Certainly. Give me time for analysis. Yes, there's a thick at- mosphere. Oxygen — check. Wait :i minute — I think I see lights. Sure enough — they look like the old- fashioned electrical kind . . . maybe Iluorescent tubes.” Soon they were close enough for direct port views of die Grange world. Continents and oceans were swathed in curly wisps and stream- ers of cloud and the polar .snow caps glistened in the sun. Tliere was a dark green sheen of vegeta- tion on the day side, the dark cres- cent sparkled with the ixiints of light, betrayers of the presence of ubiquitous man. “Distance please,” demanded Captain Keyl of the senior astre^a- tor. “Les.s than a million miles,” was the prompt reply. “Go(^. Hut slow down to drift speed. Take up an approach spiral. Let’s look as much as possible like an ordinary emigrant transport, no Slf.lLLBn THAN YOTJ THINK use in scaring the livers right out of them.” Almost at once sharp telescopists hailed the approach of a small ves- sel induliitably native to the planet l>cIow. It was hailed again and ^ain as it bore steadily down on them. It was classed immediately as a rocket craft of a type obsolete for centuries of Excelsian history, useful only for trips to the [^nets, own satellites. When it had come to within less than a hundred miles of them on a long sweeping colli- sion course, it deigned to answer. “What ship is that? What ship is that ? Over to you.” The radioed message, in a form and a dialect known only to the an- cient history of Excelsia, brought .smiles to many a face. It was prob- ably one of those numerous iso^ted backwaters of human settlement that spotted the civilized parts of the Galaxy. But it was comforting to know tliat they liad to deal, not merely vvitli humans, but with Ei^- H.sh-speuking humans. “This is the ship Reunion of the planet Excelsia. What world is this ? We wish permission to land.” “Thi.s world is Rubai, and wel- come to Rubai. May we come aboard “Yes, you may board us. Lights will outline our air lock for you. Do ^e have your con^nt to ^nd, then ?” "I will discuss your landing with my government at once. Meanwhile I am maneuvering to board.” IDuring the wait for the arrival of the Rubalian pilots there was plenty of excited discussion among ss

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the assembled scientists and ship’s officers in the compartment. Grad- ually the captain selected a welcom- ing committee from amongst their number and shepherded them to a wardroom further down in the ship. What kind of people might these Rubalians be? Who, indeed, could tell what strange breeds and strains d£ Homo sapiens had come into be- ing on the thousands of populated planets up and down the Galaxy, separated as they were by voyages of a lifetime in length? At long last two tali young men entered through the pressure door set in the bulkhead. Both were simply dressed in close-fitting black knitted clothes, a somber contrast to the varied gorgeous costumes of the ship’s company. For a full two min- utes they faced each other in silence — the first meeting of two splinters of humanity, each isolated for nearly half of a millennium. At length one of the Rubalians spoke: “I am Tenant Skuve, of our World SecuHty Bureau. I welcome you to our world in sincere friend- ship. You may have all the food and other supplies you need. But 1 warn you that ours is an old and settleassengers” — mostly the now useless technicians who had built the ship — in their future behavior : “This is apparently a more re- tarded culture than ours. We must avoid giving the natives any feel- ing of inferiority. Don’t poke fuu.. criticize, or tell them how much better we do things in Excelsia. Ad- mire and praise everything that is pointed out to you.” ASTOUNDING SCIENCK-FTCTION

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Dr. Savon had cause to remem- l)er his own words. In the next three days he had to suppress his impatience with the slow and ar- chaic Rubalian world. Most of the citizens of the capital lived in small individual homes and took some form of ground transport or just walked to the scene of their daily labors. Such labor w'ent on tn small establishments, each the property of some man or group of men who operated it without any regard to any all-comprehensive scheme for the planet as a whole. The main Rubalian occupation after the short, working day was to gather in their homes or public places, for they were admittedly a friendly and gre- garious race, but only for such un- rewarding purposes as drinking, dancing, games or small talk. The whole question of government could lie covered in a minute — they had no idea of it as an exact science be- longing to experts, but seemed .to be under the direction of a heredi- tary ruler whom they called simply the “Chief”. Tn comparison with Excelsia, where evcr}’thing, even the w'eather, liad beeji put under the control and supervision of minutely specializing experts and all integrated .in a grand master plan, it was down- right depressing. If tlie word had been in the doctor’s vocabulary, he would have called it immoral. But there was at least one pleasant lit- tle thought to console him. When regular communications Avere opened up, the efficient humor tech- nicians of Excelsia would have ma- terial to work over for the next gen- S.MALLEU Tir.AN TOT THINK eration. Some sort of production ceiling might liave to.be put on Rubalian jokes. For the time being it was given out that the Chief, whom no one but the captain had yet met, was readying a grand ceremonial recep- tion for the whole vi.siting horde in the .government hall. For this he had to summon all the dignitaries of the state from unlikely places and odd rural places all over the planet, places where he was assured that these people actually lived, in- stead of staying ne?ir the seat of government where they rationally belonged. Meanwhile all of Sav- on’s feliow-pas.sengers and most of the crew were dispersing in all di- rections, fraternizing to the limit with the native.s, and even drifting far from the city. Most of his fel- low-savants were too absorbed to even talk to him on his pocket radio, so in despair he finally advised Cap- tain Keyl to tell their host that less than one third of the crew would attend his banquet, and then wan- dered out to the local university in search of such intellectual company as the place might afford. But here the expedition’s historian had got ahead of him and was the center of all attention. The first settlers of Rubai, like those of Excelsia, had come from Earth and Venus by- way of the Cordova system and Procyon V, but whereas the Excel- sians had arrive<I directly from the latter place, the local founders had tarried long on the vast and rich Calydon planet of Sheratan, a place • of which Excelsia had as yet no knowledge ; and moreover the Ru- AST— 2X

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balian colonists had seen or heard many interesting things on the way. Speculation was traded for specu- lation : the tide of human settlement must long ago have overwhelmed even such faraway systems as Rigel, Polaris, and Antares. Many a- w-ell- loaded emigrant ship had stopped at Rubai, leaving some passengers and taking on some — the universal practice everywhere to prevent ex- cessive inbreeding — and had van- ished into the unknown on its dec- ades-long journey — long, that is, to the watching stars, but reasonably short to the passengers within. Savon retunied to his quarters within the ship and pondered the Ruballan mentality at length, since it was the key to his part of the mis- sion. At last Captain Keyl called and told him that the Chief had fi- nally set that night as the time of their formal reception and hearing. “Tljere’s something abroad here and I don’t like it,” he confided to his superior. “I can't give a solid instance for being suspicious, but a little thing here and a little thing there all may add up to something. For instance, why have the natives all exested tlieniselves so to split up our people and get them into their homes? Would we behave tliat way toward a bunch of Ruba- dians?” “Of course we wouldn’t; Savon, but then we’re not Rul)alians. That’s Just the tribute that an in- ferior culture pays to the superior. I thought you were a serious stu- dent of history, doctor. But just the same I am not going to neglect any of the simpler precautions. ae Wlien we leave here tonight I am going to detail a good half of the crew under Norani as watch officer, he’s a good fellow in any emer- gency, even if he is of nontechnical rank. If we don’t show up in good shape by sunrise, he’ll want to know the reason why, and if he can’t frighten the local powers back into reason, he'll just go l)ack to Excel- , sia and return with the Reunion in fighting trim. And wlien we step out of here, he puts up the electronic harriers. Mind you, [ don’t expect treachery, but these people could hardly l)e foolish enough to try any- thing a.s long as the ship was not in their hands." “Very well,” said Savon, much reassured. “Now let’s see if we can round up a .sizable group of our people to appreciate the Chief’s hospitalit>’.” Long before the long and lei- surely meal had come to an end. Savon had reason to envy those who had cscjii)cd it. The local half of it w'as composed of the great men of Riibalia, who on introduction proved merely to be the heads of difTerent associatitms of laborers, or else reprcsentative.s of the men who tilled the soil on an individual and unsupervised kisis, which ap- peared to be the only system of food production known to them. At long last the final toasts had been drunk and the ultimate senti- mental allusion to “Dear Mother Earth, the real home of ns all” had been made. (How long before he would really see the Earth, and what was it like now? ) The Chief, ASTOUNDINO a^TK^*C•T; FICTION

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an elderly man who might liave been chosen for his Jovclike head and huge physical proportions, indicated tlnit their eminent guest, Dr. Emcri Savon, vice-director of Primary University and the Supreme l^oard of Planning and Co-ordination of the planet Kxcclsia, would favor them with an address of some length. Savon arose and surveyed ins tirst alien audience. He had looked forward to this hour for a long lime. “(iood hosts, fcllow^-men, kins- men, for,wc come of common an- cestors in remote worlds, how many must be the numbers of us who work, who invent, who triumph and who sorrow, all unknown to you and to me. Wlio can say where now are the boundaries of the human race, where and wliat its greatest achievements arc,' what wonderful things we cannot share? “But I get too oratorical. Be pa- tient for a few minutes while I sketch for you the j)rocesscs which have split our race into so many tiny and unconneclctl fragments. “Until some eighty generations ago our species was confined to one planet, the Earth. Now I know it is fashionable in 1.»oth our worlds to wax nostalgic about the place when w^e are in certain moods ; the grim tnith, as written in ancient histories and brought to us through our ancestors, was that it eventually came to seem' like a vast prison to them. “At the earliest point to which the memory of the race reaches, 'even on tliat little world the human so- HMALliER THAN YOF THINK ctefy was split up into numerous little local groups, each ignorant of tlie other’s existence. Each made wliat slow prepress it could with the best minds and the stored ex- jjevience that it had. “Then some of the most adven- turoii.s spirits in the more advanced local cultures began to look about and discovered the existence of the others and so all were gathered rap- idly into one great community of civilization all over the planet. Now' more rapid progress was made, be- cause the pooled activity of all the }>cst minds on the planet was in- comiiarably greater than wliat they might do separately. But the more rapid conquest of nature that this made possible was incorrectly ap- plied to the prolilems of living — it, was used, first to increase the popu- lation of the planet at a rapid rate, and then to light the battles that inevitably followed. At length the numbers of mankind increased to such an extent that life was less seaire than ever before, and even the very exhaustion of the planet's resources was threatened. “But for some strange reason that we cannot now understand, man simply went on multiplying and lighting. During this period the human communal mind suffered some sort of mental blockade that made it possible to advance and to hold any reason for the overcrowd- ing of the world but the simple fact of overcrow’ding. Specialists still argue over the problem, but there seems to have been a jx)sitive rivalry among different intellectual groups or ditl'crent geographical sectors of si

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the planet to invent any theory about the common misery and any solution for it*that would avoid the right one, which was always fol- lowed by a forceful attempt to en- force the theory and solution on the rest of the community. We may as well accept the theory that a bald statement of the problem as sheer overpopulation would have offended certain obscure tribal feelings that were then very powerful. Even today the people of a newly colo- nized planet do not feel reasonably content until they have brought up their numbers to the density of the ' planet from which they came. “But finally the crisis fathered it’s own solution. As a by-product of the constant struggle, ' not delib- erately, crude space travel of a type adequate within the system was de- veloped. Fortunately that system contained one other very fine habit- able planet which man could add to his habitable space. So the first two periods of human history, the long Age of the Isolated Cultures and the short but eventful Age of Confusion or Era of the World- Civilization, came to an end when the race burst out of the prison that it’s home planet had finally become. “For a short time the resources of two worlds made an interlude of peace and plenty. But the old tribal competition to see who could out- strip the other in sheer numbers still prevailed, and soon the new home was as crowded as the old had ever been. So the old struggles were revived on a larger and more dreadful scale. “But by now man had learne<l from experience that new worlds, if he could reach them, were a guar- anteed answer to his problem. He had reason to believe that the rest of the universe consisted of pLane- tary systems similar to his own. Therefore a gigantic effort was made, and a huge part of the eco- nomic surplus was consumed, in an effort to develop interstellar flight. “Finally the so-called zero-zero transport was invented; the ship which traveled at just under the speed of light, but inside of which, in obedience to natural laws, the apparent lime of a journey was but a fraction of the -real time. Some exploring expeditions were made with it while the search continued for a practical faster-than-light propulsion. But the ijmit of the inventive resources of two planets seemed to have been reached ; so people quite naturally took to the zero-zero transport to colonize vir- gin systems and so regain the quiet and the plenty that they had come to associate with raw planets. This method still goes on today. “Now the final effect of this, as we all know, was to throw the hu- man race back to the very first period of its recorded history, the Age of Isolated Cultures. Regular communications could be kept up only between exceptionally close systems. To a group which made a journey of more than twenty light- years, the voyage seemed very short, but actually they were a generation away from their familiar homes and friends. Besides, emigrant ships are customarily broken up on ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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arrival for the materials and ma- chinery they contain. Likewise, any scheme of government or commerce was out of the question, where a half-century might elapse Ijctween the dispatch of an order and a re- ply. Very soon the anxious hordes of colonizers found that it was not necessary to await the reports of age-long exploring expeditions. Habitable planets w^erc common enough, all they needed to do was head outward and select a star of the correct s)>ectroscopic types, more than two or three tries were unnecessary. “I have already inemioncd the period of intense rivalry between «.lifferent human groups during the period just l>efore the beginning of iuler.stellar llight, usually arising from different theories about the prevalent shortage of the planetary resources. The zero-zero trans- |X>rt eliminated such rivalries, since any group of people who i>assion- ately espoused any peculiar doc- trine, whether .social, political, eco- nomic or a blend of all three; could somehow obtain one of the trans- jtorts and hunt U]> some vacant world that they could organize to their heart’s desire. If some minor- ity of these colonists, in turn, did not agree with their fellows, they tvould repeat the process by emi- grating again. “Then too, there still existed old tribal differences in the race which were so profound at that lime that different languages w^cre spoken and the folk-customs were still varied. The less successful of these tribes could now rid themselves SMAT.LUR THAN YOU THINK of the unwelcome conqiany of others by picking out new worlds . w'here they could be themselves. You probably have heard of worlds where our language is not used. “So for a number of reasons hu- man life .spread throughout the sys- tem faster than mere incrca.se in mmibers would require, has been spreading at almost the speed of light; yet only a very small part of the Galaxy can yet be overrun. So now we have some thousands of worlds, mostly unknown to one another, all their cultures going in random directions, and with the old rajnd scientific progress almost at a complete standstill. Do I weary you, your excellency?” “No, you do not,” answered the Rubalian ruler, “Of course all of these things are taught to every child in our schools; but you have a wonderfully crisp way of giving such a long story. Like you, we liave often wondered what the rest of the human race was doing, and how their development compared with ours. But you have not yet come to the best part of the tale. ITow did your people realize the age-long dream of a ship that could travel faster than light, and what has it to do with us r” “Thank you for your kind at- tention so far. Now I speak of the peculiar history of Excelsia. While our ancestors, who founded the planet, were not a doctrinaire group; they were chiefly engineers and technicians who wished to es- tablish a world, where every hand and brain would, be as cfticiently

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organized and used as was possible. In a short time this aim was real- ized. After about two centuries they began to thinly that the long- awaited fastcr-lhaii-light ship was not going to appear in any part of the system; and in order to give the rest of the race the benefits of our superb technology, we would have to cap it by building such a craft ourselves. Of course most of the experts had said it never could be done, but we believed that it was simply that the task was beyond the means of a single jilanet. “By now our efficient organiza- tion liad given us an enormous eco- nomic surplus which we could di- vert to this purpose. Hundreds of thousands of people w^ere born, schooled, worked, exhausted myri- ads of false leads in research and handed the problem down to their children. Eventually about half of our adult population was engaged on this project. Finally vre had un- locked the secrets of hyperspace and the ship Reunion, the first of fleets yet to come, took shape. “Now I have only to explain to you your part in the birth of the faster-than-light ship and the com- ing of the new civilization. Inas- much as by now there must be some thousands of inhabited worlds, it would take an immensely long time-' for the new type of transport to be- come known to all of them. So it is necessary that the propagation of this discovery must he carried on with the same sort of intense effort that created it. You have the re- sources here and much of the skilled labor to* build anotlier ship similar CO the Reunion. We will give you all the necessary information, at no cost to you whatsoever, and also we will leave here the necessary techni- cians to oversee its construction and instruct you in its navigation,*’ At this point Savon paused for the exi>ected burst o f shouted thanks and applause but the hall was embarrassingly quiet. A small cloud of worry arose in his mind: either he had misjudged the Ru- balian psychology, or perhaps they were too stupid or too polite to take the cue. So he continued. “We will exact only one consid- eration from you in return. When your craft is complete, you must search out another inhabited world and teach them to build such a ship in your turn. Thus, each world teaching one, the whole human sec- tor of the Galaxy will soon possess the new ships and, the new unified human culture will be born.” Dr. Savon sat dowm and there was a light patter of hand-dapping about the room, which tapered into a deep silence when it was seen that only the Excelsians were in the act. After a painful interlude the Chief nodded to an elderly native who stood and faced Savon. “Our learned visitor from £x- celsia has at length told us two things: one of which we already know, of the preseflt isolation and stagnation of the human race; and one of which is obvious, that his people have at last invented tlie ideal faster-than-light ship. But can he tell us of any happy result. ASTOUNDING SCIKNCK-FICTION

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any positive and total good, that can come of it?” The sociologist was thunder- struck. In his whole lifetime, no one had ever thought of question- ing the Great TIe.sign which was the mainspring ot life for his entire world. He groped for a reply that fitted the quc.stioners. ■‘The whole level of human cul- ture will be raised,” he began. ‘‘The most backward worlds will be able to share at once in the progress of the more advanced ones.” No, that wasn’t the right thing to say, that was reminding them that they w’ere a most backward world ; he must get a grip on himself and continue. “We don’t know, for one thing, what is going on around the fringes of civilization. We get vague and roundabout stories that fi'om time to time contact has been made with intelligent but nonhuman races. With the absence of control over Ihe behavior of men away from their home planets, such contacts liave usually ended in a typically

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human way, that is, the nonhuinaiis have been looted, dispossessed and enslaved. So far, so good, while the alien races in question are in- ferior, or at least weaker, than man. But when may we brush up against a stronger one? Some fine day we may find a tide of extermination rolling over all of us because some lot of moronic adventurers have pricked the skin of a superior cul- ture. I do not need to mention the purely moral evil of this, but some sort of central authority should stop it.. And need I trouble to speak to as intelligent a people as you of the benefits of trade? Of fast com- munications, of being able to see and receive word from the colonists whom in the future you may send across space? What of those of you who are intellectuals, can you re- sist the hunger to explore, to learn more about the many-colored branches and varied cultures that our civilization must have in thou- sands of systems? That alone should make our work worth while. However, I should like to hear any specific objections that you may still have.” The old fellow who was evidently the native spokesman had remained standing meanwhile and began to reply in a slow' and dignified manner. “Our visitors show that they have a thorough knowledge of the his- tory of our race back even to the days when it was confined to but one planet of one system. It is good that we should stiU remember and still think about those times, because it is the only trustworthy 42 guide vrt have when we try to fore- see the shape of things yet to come. “At first som^e good things may flow from widespread travel and commerce throughout the system, though I admit I am a little curious as to what the merchants may adopt as money. In my own lifetime I would expect nothing but benefits from your invention. But man is still man, and from his past record we may expect other results. “Yon speak of a universal gov- ernniem which will repress the loot- ing of weaker races and perhaps attempt to do otlier necessary things. This would be nice, but how is such an authority to arise? From history we know that it can be in but one of two ways; either there must be voluntary union un- der some very real and threatening danger from the outside, by which time it may be too late; or else one community more determined and more powerful than the others will subject all of them to its tyrannical rule. This last is much the more likely, and you are offering any such conquerors as may be, just the one implement they need for a plan of universal conquest. Recollect, if you know the past so well, that every new invention which widened the range of travel — the sailing ship, the steamship, the airplane, or spaceships, finally only increased the space over which wars could be \V2^ed. In time there even came to be fighting between colonists on Venus and their mother planet. Only in the lifetime distances that separate system from system today had absolute peace finally been ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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found. >^ow there is no reward in the conquest of weaker worlds by the stronger, for what tyrant can live so long, as to see the tribute Ijrought to his feet?” ‘■JS'either can your new^ ship stop, any worrying about hostile contact with some superior race of beings, and I admit that is a possilde dan- ger. We may be pi'etty sure that no such race exists in the closer regions of the Galaxy, that is, with- in the area that human settlement will overrun in the next few thou- sand years, because if they did we would have met them already. And w here do your profoundcst think- ers, like ours, suppose that such a .race is most likely to be found ? Why in the older systems nearer the center of the Galaxy, where no /ero-zero ships are going to pene- trate for at least fifty millenniums as yet. But you would have us run headlong into them at once, before we arc nearly equal to them in mun- l)crs or in technology. "Xow what is the present utility of the zero-zero transport? It ex- ists chiefly to provide escape for the more adventurous ^lenizens of o\’er- cro.wded planets. That pTirpose it Alls as admirably as would your ship. Today !tny shipload of emi- grants knows that space is strewn with desirable but unpopulated worlds, and they can find and settle one without hindrance if they but tind ir. 15ut what will be tlie situa- tion when your spaceship comes into general use ? A greedy and ambi- tious gang of men can become the owners of a whole world, yes, of dozens of worlds, simply by reach- S.MALLBR rn.4>i YOU THiS'K ing them first. At once the whole universe would become property, and the Galaxy would be full of wandering land-hungry colonists and bitter battles over foggy claims. I could think of many other objec- tions, but I think I have outlined our state of mind. AVe do not as yet wish to possess or use your fine new spaceship, much as it grieves us to disappoint vou in your truly fine and generous enthusiasm. With many thanks, wc decline.” The ancient one sat down. .Savon and all his compatriots for the nonce were frozen to their chairs by this unexpected rebuff. At last tlie captain found his feet and his voice. ‘‘Your excellency,” he croaked, “is this the final decision of your government, of your people?” ‘‘It is so.” ‘‘Then/’ roared the spaceman, ‘‘We shall leave here at once and try the people of another world. .\nd wherever wc go, we shall leave word that your planet does not care to be molested by outsiders.'’ “It will not be as simple as all that,” replied the Chief. “To put it bluntly, you will remain here and so will your ship, and you shall stay forever. It would do us no good to let you go and alter the shape of things in the rest of the universe. Nor would tlicre be much conviction in the views that we hold, if we did not do everything in our power to stop you. But you are not entirely prisoners, all your lives you will be free to come and 48

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go, and ha\e e\cry liberty of a citizen of Rubai.” The captain had been raised to his rather low boiling point. “Stop us, would you? Sure you can, for about five hours. But it so hap- pens that I considered something like this piece of treacher\'^ and so we left a strong guard on the ship. The electronic barrier is up, and you can’t get^ through it, and if we aren’t safe on board in the morn- ing, they’ll simply go back home and fit out a raid that will bring you to your senses. So you better think twice 1” “Oh yes, the ship,” mused the native ruler. “That thing. Well, we are neither a stupid nor a cow- ardly people, and there are some’ interesting plans we had worked out in case our main method failed. By the way, do you recognize this man?” The captain turned about and was confronted by Noraiii, the watch officer. But he was smiling into the eyes of the Chief, “Everything is under control on the ship, your excellency. The bar- rier is now down.” “What about the rest of your watch ?” “They’ll sleep heartily until morning, but somebody had better carry them out of it right now. I just put a little sedative in. the tea um.” “What in the Magellante' Clouds is all this about piped the angry Excelsian captain. “Sit down,” commanded the Chief. . “There is quite a lot to ex- 44 plain. And we wish to drop our mask of innocent surprise, our airs of naive wonder at the miraculous Excelsians and their ship. Such poses are not becoming to us. “You see, about three centuries ago an emigrant ship from the Al- tair system came and circled about our world. They had a strange tale to tell us, a story of a planet they had just visited where all the suT- plus energy of the people was being given to a single monstrous pur- 4:»ose — the invention of a ship that would travel faster than light. They were very angry, too, for some of their best technicians had been lurctl away from them at tliat world with promises of rich rewards. Without those very necessary technicians they did not fee! that they could successfully go on and establish a colony. So they stayed, in fact, some of them were iny ancestors, and the ancestors of Noram, for like others of your people, he is one of ours. “For generations our whole so ciety discussed the pro and the con of your project and finally we came to about. the saflie state of mind tltat we have tried to explain to yoti tonight. The next thing -was to consider some way of' stopping it. Our first step was keeping you un- der constant observation. A zero- zero ship could make the journey to Excclsia and hack in about twelve years, sending our operators to the planet itself in small rocket craft while it remained outside the detec- tor range. Each trip some stayed and worked their way into your so- astounding SCIENCE-FICTION

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ciety aiul even into your project . wliile others returned home to re- port and to receive our thanks. We had men who were willing to devote the best years of their lives to this. Thus we knew w'hen you had hnally achieved success, and also learned (T your determination to visit our world first of all, which we liad always ho^d, seeing that we were your closest neighbors in space. ^‘This is a hard thing for us to do, and a hard thing for you to take, 1 almost wish you had come to us as murdering pirates or even as grasping tradesmen, instead of the honest and confiding souls that you are. But our decision stands.” “But you can't keep our people at home from building another ship!” bellowed the captain. “Certainly there is going to he another ship. Seeing that all your ablest technicians are being held here, it is going to take a long time. Ihit we will be watching that one, too. Most likely it will come here, also, filleti with curiosity about the fate of the missing first expedition. Tf it goes elsewhere, we shall inter- cept it, for now we have the first model. ■‘Meanwhile, we recognize that lou have, a right to some of your fears. We mean to carry on a re- connaissance of space for some dis- tance around the fringe of civiliza- tion, just in case there is some dan- ger there. Then your ship will be safely stored away. Some day man- kind may have urgent need of it, TJIE S-MALl.KK THAN YOU THINK perhaps some day he may conceiva- bly be ready for it. “1 imagine we may be damned through all eternity as narrow ene- mies of progress. But we have here too vivid a memory of the past of our race, of the days when man’s inventiveness too far outstripped individual self-control. Civiliza- tion is assured of comfort and se- curity, what it needs most now is a long rest.” “They haven’t licked me yet,” . grumbled the captain to the ashen- faced Savon in an undertone. “I’ll be the loudest voice they ever had on this planet. I’ll outshout the whole nine hundred million of them. I've changed people’s minds liefore. You’re going to help me, aren’t you ? It’s more in your line.” “Yes, I suppose I have to,” said the doctor. “But there is some hope in psychology. They can’t all be so high-minded and noble here more than anywhere else. That ship equals power unlimited for anybody who lays his hands on it, and there are going to he a lot of itching Imnds on Rubai from now on and forevermore.” “Don’t bank on it much, doctor. They seem like a pretty determined Imnch to me. And don’t tell me they aren’t clever in their way!” “Somehow 1 don’t feci like argu- ing wfth them any more just now. We worked all our lives on a faster means of getting around the uni- verse. But I guess the universe is just a bit .smaller than you think !” END 43

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DAWN OF NOTHING BY A. BERTRAM CHANBLER The Great God AliP was a little understood diety. But it was a time of little understanding, save in one house where the old teas studied. Illustrated by Cartier Perhaps it was the wind that de- flected the arrow ever so slightly. Perliaps it was that old Maluph, Master Fletcher to the People of Bart» had let his craftsman's hand shake a little in the fashioning of this one shaft. Perhap.s it was that Enery, Bart’s chief huntsman, had taken aim and let fly too hastily. But Enery himself had another explanation. He was to blame — but his culpability was more than a mere matter of aim too quickly and care- lessly taken, of bow insufficiently bent. He was to blame because, last night, he had deliberately neglected the worship of ARP. And ARP the Watchful, ARP the All-Seeing, had overlooked neither the slight nor the quarrel between Enery and Pardi, Hereditary Warden of the God, that had preceded it. He had watched, with divine disapproval, the deliber- ate abstention from the propitiatory rites of the Shielded Light, the Extii^^ished Fire. And so ARP, Guider of the Missile, had signified his . extreme displeasure by with- drawing his benlgiv influence from the feathered sliafts in Enery's quiver. The stag, a short length of arrow protruding from its flank, sprang high into the air. The hunter hastily snatched another arrow from his quiver, fitted notch to bowspring, drew back swiftly to hi.s right ear. But he was too late. Scarcely had the animal’s feet touched earth be- fore it had bolted into the forest. The sound of its passage through the undergrowth diminished, faded fast, as trees and shrubs and bushes were interposed between the hunter and his quarry. Enery retunied tlie arrow to his quiver, slung the long six-foot bow over his shoulder. His right hand went dowm to the kni fe in the sheath at his right side. His thigh muscles tensed as he fell into the runner’s crouch, started to follow the stag. Then he remembered. ‘‘Great ARP, your pardon,” he ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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muttered. And. standing alone in face, clapped them sharply five the sunlit field at the forest’s verge, times. And, his face passive, he he went through the daylight ritual, thought: But zi'hy, oh ARP, must Through ringed thumbs and fore- your wardens ahvays be such foblsf finger.s he stared solemnly at the Take to yourself men and' we zvill cloudless sky. Still looking up, he respect them and respect you all the brought his hands down from his more . . . DAWN or NOTHING *T

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He was careful to keep his beard- ed lips motionless. ARP sees all, hears all, but the thoughts of men are a mystery to him. Thus it was that the Ancients fell. Enerj^ having slipped with prac- tised ease -through the brief rites, took up the chase. The trail was easy to follow. The stag had been bleeding copiously. ARP or no ARP the arrow could not have been badly aimed. The hunter found himself regretting the time that he had wasted at the forest edge. As he ran lie remembered his bitter argument with Pardi, the war- den— the quarrel during which he ^ad asserted that ARP was a fit God for v/omen and children and fat, priestly men, but no deity for the warrior or the hunter. He would never have gone so far had he , not been sure that the grizzled Bart secretly agreed with him. Bart, as Chief, would find it impolitic to challenge the theocratic power so in- timately bound up with his own, lest, by so doing, he weaken his own au- thority. He had no objections should others do so. He had even been known to protect heretics from the wrath of the followers of ARP ^his protection consisting of a plea for tolerance, the invocation of the vague yet universally respected principle known as the Magnic Charter. And if the heretic had been, like Enery, a strong man armed, his heresy had gone unpun- ished. -It was a pity that most of such heretics had been married men whose wives had bleated tearfully for a return to the flock of Pardi. 48 A briar tendril airled around the hunter’s ankle, brought him crash- ing heavily down. Luckily for him the bushes broke his fall. He scrambled to his feet, bleeding from a score , of scratches — his scanty summer garment of light skins was not much protection — carefully dis- entangled the string of his l)Ow from the sharp thorns. He was al- most decided to leave it there — here, with the trees close together and but a narrow passage through the bushes left by the wounded stag, it was a serious encumbrance. But he did not want to lose 'it. There were things in the woods — some said it was the wild dogs, but why should they do anything so point- less ?— that carried off for their own purposes any man-fashioned stick. So he pushed on, hampered by the long bow, alert for the frequent bright splashes on leaf and mossy ground. The trail was growing old. xA.lready great fat-bodied flies were feasting on the spilled blood, rising with resentful buzz at his approach, falling back again to their meal after his passing. But he dare not hurry. Even should he keep his re- bellious mind .from straying froin the business on hand, he dare not hurry. A broken leg, a seriously twisted ankle, could well mean his death. By day there were the packs of dogs — although they, as a rule, preferred more open country-. And both by day and night there were the tree cats. If he failed to return from this expedition, then Pardi, surely, would attribute his disap- pearance to the wrath of ARP. Come orf it! he thought in the ASTOUNDING SC I K N CK -F I CT ION

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vernacular of his people, liven if the warden is sweet on young Lisa there ain't no need ter think abaht- it orl the time, ter let it put yer orf yer stroke. The main thing is ter get that ruddy stag afore them rud- dy cats gets 'im first! Doggedly, he pushed on. The trail became fresher again. There were gouts of blood tliat liad not l>een found by the carrion flies. There were bruised^ and broken .stems with the sap still oozing from the fractured ends. And there was, faint but growing louder, the sound of a heavy l>ody forcing its way through the forest. And this sound suddenly ceased. Enery drew his knife. He jaished on 1>oldly, perhaps a little carelessly. He noticed that the un- dergrowth was thinning, that the trees were now sparsely spaced and .somehow sickly. But he failed to draw the obvious conclusion. The dNittlling of the Ancients tliat had once stood there liad long vanished. Perhaps the failure of ARP's protection had let it be swept away like a dead leaf before a gale. Perhaps the infinitely slow, infi- nitely ruthless strength of growing things had leveled its walls over the course of centuries. But although the building itself was gone, the artificial caverns beneath it re- mained. And into these, following his quarry, fell the hunter- It was dark when he recovered consciousness. In his nostrils w'as the scent of death, of once hot blood gone cold and stale. Beneath him was somc- •thing soft yet firm, the carcass of the stag. His exploratory hand , touched the antlered head. He was briefly thankful that he liad not falicn on to tliosc branching, dan- gerous weapon.s. Right above him was a patch of jxile light. Silhouetted against it were the "leafy branches of trees, among which glimmered a few dim stars. And there was somethii^ scrambling in the aperture, some- thing that uttered a low mewling sound. The hunter fumbled in his pouch'. He pulled out his flint and steel. He smote the crude wheel with the palm of his hand. In the light of the si>arks the green eyes of the big cat in the opening glowed balefully. Enery could see no more than a dim outline — but he sensed that it was tensed for a spring. But the tow caught. It smoldered at first and then, after more than a little blowing on the part of the fire- maker, burst into flickering flame. .The hunter thrust up his crude, feeble torch. He was just in time. The big cat snarled, showing its, sharp white teeth. It slashed out and down with a razor-clawed fore paw. It Iiit the torch, sent scatter- ing a shower of sparks, but did not extinguish the (lame. It snarled again — and there was something of a scream in the ugly sound. There was a frantic scrabbling of the three uninjured paws as it backed away from the hole. And only, a stink of burned fur remained. “May ARP let ytm be smitten, you mucking, dirty swine V’ shouted Enery. He jumped down from the 4d DiWX OF NO'r^HINO

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carcass of the stag, landed, with a loud crackling, in a pile of dry de- bris. He tried to drag the stag away from under the opening, but it was too heavy. It was a pity. It m^nt that much good meat would be spoiled. Working fast — for he heard the cats prowling and crying to each other overhead — he' piled the debris high on the body of the animal. He smote his wheel again with the palm of his hand. This time the tow ,, caught fast and easily. He blew upon the glowing smolder until he had a flame. This he applied to the bonfire that he had built bn top of the dead stag. It roared and crackled into flaming life. The smoke and flames rushed up through the opening. A draft of colder air came in from somewhere, replac- ing that lost by convection. There was no danger of suffocation — and the night-prowling cats would never dare a leap down through the blaze. Enery grinned. He was safe for the night. The smell of roasting venison was savory in his nostrils — he hoped that it would be equally savory in the nostrils of his enemies. He drew his knife and hacked for himself a large steak, impaled it on a long, pointed stick. He sat down, the meat extended to the fire on the improvised fork, and waited for his supper to cook. It was not until he was eating it, scwne minutes later, that the stench of burning meat drove him away from the fire, prodded him into an investigation of the place into which he had fallen. M It must have been used as a store- room of some kirid. There were boxes — or what was left of them — all packed with sheet after sheet of flimsy fabric. Unlike some of the material left — and found now and again by lucky discoverers — by the Ancients, it was useless for clothing or any kindred purpose. It was dry and brittle and tore easily. It had been disturbed by rats and other small beasts who had shredded it and carried it away to their nests. And in one or two of the boxes the rats themselves had nested. But it burned. Useless it was for any- thing but that. It burned well. Enery was disappointed. He had known others who had made simi- lar finds, who had stumbled upon storehouses of all kinds of useful tools and w'eapons. He stood there in the light of his -flaring fire, tear- ing with his teeth at the hunk of meat held in his right hand, hold- ing a sheet of the useless fabric in his left. He looked at it contemptu- ously, Its yellowed surface was marred with little black marks. It was neither useful nor ornamental. He screwed it into a tight ball and cast it on to the fire. But there must, he told himself, be something of value stored here. He lifted one of the boxes, intend- ing to tip it over and spill its con- tents on the floor. But the sides burst as he was starting- to do so. And in the box were still more of the sheets of fabric — but these were themselves boxed in a binding of some stiffer material. He opened them, looked through them with in- tolerant ignorance. There was one ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-PICTION

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that ai^aled to him. It had pic- tures in addition to the -meaningless littU black marks — ^pictures such as William, the artist, could never hoi» to equal. There were men there, strangely clad and bearded. And there were women, attired as strangely as the men or naked, and with a slender grace that had passed, from the world with the passing of the Ancients. The little black marks may have been meaningless to the hunter, but the pictures stirred something deep and lost in his nature, were magic casements opening wide on fairy lands far be- yond his limited ken. Hastily, almost ' surreptitiously, he‘ stuffed the little box into the pouch at his belt. There were other little boxes with pictures in them. But these were ugly, meaningless. They w'ere no more than lines and circles — and the clearest of them seemed to be depictions of fantastic and grace- less constructions. But they might, Enery decided, have some value or interest. He would take them to Bart. Even though the stag was lost —or most -of it — he would not re- turn entirely empty handed. He slept a little thet^ stretched out on a bed m^fde of the pieces of flimsy fabric piled high in a rec- tangular pile. It was not too un- comfortable. And it was almost his last sleep. He was awakened by a spasm of violent coughing. His smarting, smoke-filled eyes opened on what, at first, seemed to be the Hell promised for all those who did not follow ARP. The cavern was filled with a ruddy glare, witli scorchit^ h^t. The flam^ had spread from the Are to . the dry debris with which the floor was lit- tered. Enery staggered to his feet. He forgot the little boxes of fabric that he had intended to take out with himj that lay beside his bed, soon to be consumed by the hun- gry flames. He remembered his bow that, as always, had been be- side him as he slept. He snatched it up. And, more by instinct than by conscious volition, he turned his face to the indraught of cold air, started to stumble in the direction from which it was coming. The heat of the fire was fierce on his back when he found the door. It was of thick timber, bound with metal. Long ago, when the, Ancients had made it, it had been strong. . Now it was rotten, yielded at the first, preliminary nudge of the hunter’s shoulder. And Enery fell out on to the dew-wet grass, used his last reserves of energy to crawl away from the tongues of fire that licked out after him. And it was daylight, and the dan- ger from the cats^although still to be reckoned with — was greatly less- ened. After a short rest the hunter be- gan his trudge back to the villj^e of Bart. . "And wot*s this I ’ear?” demand- ed the chief. “My best ’unter back from the chase wiv nuffin’? I tell yer, Enery, it won’t do!’* Enery looked back at his master. He looked at the little eyes, h^f hidden by the grizzled tangle of hair SI DAWN OF NOTHING

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and .l)eard. He thought that he de- tected a twinkle, belying the sever- ity of the chief’s tone. “Sorry, guv’ner,” he said. “I got a stag — ^a big ’un^ — but ’e fell into one o’ them old caves wot the Old ’Uns used ter make. Aht in the woods, it was. I’d chased ’ini for miles, too, follered ’is trail, like. ’E was bleedin’ ’cavy, see? An’ I was a bit careless like, an’ fell in arter ’im an’ laid myself aht. An’ when I come round the ’ole wood was alive wiv bleedin’ cats. So I ’ad ter light a fire, see? An’ the ole stag . . . well, ’e got burned up.” Pardi interrupted. He was stand- ing beside tlie chief. At the .sound of the high-pitched, womanish voice Enery looked at tlic \\-arden with disfavor. “Thus it is,” cried Pardi, "wiv those ’o don’t sliow ARP ’is .iiroper respects. ’E don’t guide their ar- rers, 'E don’t, ’li don’t put out the fire for ’em— not ’im ! R'ot even when the fire is a-biiming up food for the chief’s own table. ’E don’t never forget the unlielievcrs. ’E lets ’em come ’omc empty-'anded • an’ larfs.” “Empty-’anded, is it. yer little, sawed-off nint?” demanded the hunter. “Knipty-’anded my left foot! Look, guv 'ner! I found this for yer I I brought it back for yer !” He fumbled in liis pouch, fetched out the little box. Curious, Part took it, and his big, clumsy seem- ing liands handled it with reverent care. “A book,” he said. “One o’ them books wot the Old ’Uns made.” He opened it, leafed through it. “An’ pieshers!” he cried. “Reel pieshers! I must show young William this. ’E carn’t do nuffin like itl” The aeep-set eyes behind the gray, mat- ted hair gleamed lecherously. “Lemme see! Lemine seel” clamored J^ardi, standing on tiptoe to peer over the chief’s shoulder. ■‘Garni Yer dirty old man!” growled Bart. “This ain’t for the likes o’ you. Yer knows as ’ow the wardens ’as got ter be pure in mind an’ body !” “That ain’t nuffin ter do wiv itj This book should be put among the uvver treasures of ARP, for Ts safe keeping.” “So the warden of ARP can feast ’is dirty old eyes on it yer mean. No, Pardi, you ain’t gettin’ it. An’ 1 ain’t kcepin’ it— more’s the pity. This ’ere book is goin’ on a long trip termorrer — it’s, ’igh time that I called on them two Mack brothers. They’re fair batty over things like this, the pair of ’em. An’ since my own smith can’t turn out a decent pot or kettle to save ’is life — then your pore old chief ’as got ter go out of ’is own country to barter for 'em. “You can go,” he concluded. “No, not you, Enery. You stays ’ere an’ ’as a sup o’ beer along o’ me. An’ we’ll look at these ’ere pieshers while we ’as the chance.” Two days’ riding it w'as to the Village of Mack. Two days, that i.s, provided that all went well. But the rarely used road was in a shocking condition, and all its inequalities had been baked hard by the late summer sun. This did not ASTOTINDINO .SC IKXCE -FICTION

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delay the dozen young men— led by Enery— of Bart’s mounted body- guard. They could have made the journey in half the time, but the speed of the party was, of neces- sity, slowed to the pace of the chief’s gaudily painted caravan. He was an old man, he was fond of saying, and liked taking his comforts ■with him. It would have been better if his blacksmith, and not his youngest wife, had been on the list of comforts. For the rear axle of the cumbersome vehicle broke, and it took Enery and his com- panions all of six sweating hours to effect crude and temporary repairs. The first night they camped by the roadside, several miles short of the Village of I.es, in which settlement they should have spent the night. And nobody got much sleep. One of the rare nocturnal packs of hunting dogs was on the prowl and laid siege to the encamp- ment. With a fire, and with twelve armed men, there was little danger. But there was no rest. At the Village of Les there was a brief halt for gossip and refresh- ment, for the proper repair of the broken axle by Les’ smith. And Les and Bart had to waste an hour or so in gloating over the* pictures in the book. Perhaps Bart would have stayed there the night, but the other chief obviously desired the- trophy that Enery had brought back from the cavern of the Ancients. He was offering quite fantastically high prices in fowls and e^s — both of which commodities Bart had in abundance in his own country. And the name of Les and his people was a byword for thievery and all kinds^ of dishonesty. So Bart, at last,' gave the order to push on. Again they would have camped by the road. But tloe Romans were out — a war party of at le^ twenty bucks. Enery saw the dust raised by their ponies’ hoofs whilst they were still miles distant. And when they came sweeping across the un- dulating plain, at right angl^ to the road, the hunter- and his men were ready for them. Some — together with Bart and his wife — had taken cover in a clump of ti^s. Others were hiding behind the caravan. As soon as the raiders came within range they were greeted with a shower of arrows. A lucky shot — an’ I didn’t pray to Mr. Bleedin’ ARP neither, thought hmery — took their leader in the throat. He fell from his pony, and the animal came to an abrupt standstill,, stood nuz- zling the body of its-late master., “ 'Old yer fire !” shouted Bart to his men. “Don’t rile them baskets any more. Let ’em take their chief away an’ they won’t be back till they’ve picked a new ’unt” And it was so, And Bart decided, wdsely, to keep moving, as fast as possible. To ar- rive at the Village of the Mack Brothers in the early hours of the morning was better than not-to ar- rive at all. The village, save for the. watch, seemed to be sleeping when the little procession creaked and plodded up the one narrow street. The thatched roofs on either side were humped DAWir OF NOTHING

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dark and ominous against the stars. And there were those in the body- guard who remembered, with a superstitious shudder, that neither Mack the Elder nor Mack the Younger followed ARP, that they had long held the reputation of being sorcerers. This, in itself, jvas . nothing — but it was said that the Mack sorceries worked. Halfway up the street, standing on a slight eminence, was a house larger than the others. .And there was someone awake in this house — some- one awake and working. Light streamed through the crevices of a shuttered window, and there was , the sound of metal beating on metal. Old Bart, perched high on the driving seat of his caravan, gave the order to halt. He threw down the reins, and they were caught by one of the bodyguard who had al- ready dismounted. He clambered down from his seat. “They’re up yet,” he growled. Slowly, ponderously, he stumped to the door of the house. He ham- mered upon it authoritatively. Somebody — a small, thin silhouette against the light from within — opened it. “Bart.” said the chief. “Bart, Leader of the People of Bart, to pay ’is respects to Old Mack an’ Young Mack, Chieftains o’ the People o’ Mack.” The figure in the door turned, shouted back to the interior of the house: “It’s Bart, father !” “This' is an odd time to come a visiting!” replied a deep male voice. “All right, Beth, Ask ’im inr “But he’s got about half a hun- dred men wi’ him !”- “They, can’t come in. Leave ’em to find some place to sleep.” “Orl right,” growled Bart. “Orl of yer find some place ter kip — an’ don’t let me find any of yer in my caravan! ’Op it!” As the huntsman turned to go the chief called him back. “No, Enery. You stay wiv me. ’Ave yer got the book?” “No, guv’ner. Y’ou ’ave.” “So I ’ave. An’ you’d better leave yer bow an' arrers outsidc—^these ’ere Mack chief^are rather fussy.” It was light inside tiie House of Mack — so much so that the two visi- tors blinked, dazzled. Here were no crude, tallow candles such as lit the homes in their own village, d'here were, instead, lamps of brass, the flame shaded with a shield of translucent horn. Enery looked at the girl who had let them in. Slight she was, red haired and freckled, with sea green eyes. She was tall, too — far above the average. With her the dumpy womenfolk of the People of Bart compared most unfavorably. She was like — he searched his mind for a simile — she was like the women in the pictures in the book. Gravely, she returned his stare. Then she turned abruptly. She led the two men along a short passage, opened a door leading into a large room. She motioned them in. It was a strange room. It was half study— although the word had long since passed out of use — and half workshop. There were shelves along two of the walls, and on them •4 ASTOUNDING SCIBNCE-PICTIOK

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were rows of the little boxes of fabric called books. And in one .corner of the room there was a forge, and an anvil. At this Young Mack working, beating away at a piece of metal. Old Mack — his silvery hair clean, his lined face shaven — advanced, with outstretched- hand, to greet them. His pale gray eyes were friendly and it seemed to Enery that he treated Bart with an affec- tionate respect. “Well,” he said, “an’ what can I do for ye ?” “I’ve a present for yer. Mack — and an ’ard enough time I ’ad bringing it! Mind you,” continued Bart hastily, “even though it is a present I shouldn’t say no to a few o’ yer brother’s good pots and pans in return.” / “An’ let’s see your present first, Bart.” ■ “ ’Ere!^’ Old Mack took the little box of fabric. “Anither book !” he breathed. “Booki'” barked Young Mack. Black haired, swarthy, sweating from his fire, lie came to look. He looked over his brother’s shoulder. Then he spat disgustedly. “More o’ yon muck!” was all that he said. He went back to his workbench, busied with what looked like a sort of water wheel with metal blades. “Wot does it say?” demanded Bart. “Wot does it say?” “ ’Tis a song. ’Tis one o’ the songs of Ancients. Ay, ’tis strange stuff— but not wi’out its ane beauty. THE Di^WN OP NOTHING But even I canna fathom what yon man who wrote it was driving at.” At his bench Young Mack was pouring water from a jug into a polished copper cylinder. He screwed home the cap of this cylin- der. The girl Beth was beginning to take down the shutters from the windows. Enery was helping her. “Ay, an’ the pictures,” went on Old Mack. “ ’Tis a bonny wee book, friend Bart, an’ Ah’ll see what ma brither has tae gi’e ye.” “An ye’re barterin’ ma guid pots an’ pans for yon trash?” demanded the man at the workbench. “It is getting light. Unde,” said Beth from the window. . “Never mind that. Fetch me fire, girl, tae put under ma wee boiler !” “But wot does it say. Old Mack?” demanded Bart. “Wot does it say? If it is a song, carn’t yer sing it?” There was a pau.se, a silence, broken only by the faint hiss of escaping steam. The pale light -of early morning streamed through the windows, “ ’Tis not that kind o’ song, Bart.” The old man began to mumble. All that his hearers got w’as a sense of rhythm. He was reading for himself alone. Then, freakishly, his voice came loud and clear. “The Stars are fading, and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Noth- ing . . “Hurry! shouted Young Mack. “More fire! Quick!” A jet of steam impinging on its blades, the little wheel was revolving rapidly. END 55

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THE MONSTER BV A. E.VAH VOGT Rising the Monster from the dust of a dead planet proved a dangerously one-xvay affair. They could raise him, but laying that ghost leasriH so simple — Illustrated by Cartier The gfreat .ship poised a quarter weeds. Several skeletons lay in the of a mile above one of the cities, tail gras.s beside the rakisl\ build- llelow was a cosmic desolation. As ing. They were of long, tvvo-leggccl, he floated down in his energy bub- two-armed beings with the skulls in hie, Enash saw that the buildings each case mounted at the end of a were crumbling with age. thin spine. The skeletons, all of '“'No sign of war damage 1” The adults, seemed in excellent preser- bodiless voice touched his cars mo- vation, but when he bent down and mentaril}'. Eiiash tuned it out. touched one, a whole section of it On the ground he collapsed his crumbled into a fine powder. As he bubble. He found himself in a .straightened, he saw that Voal. was walled indosure overgrovyn with floating down nearby. Enash waited ASTOUNDING SriK.VAlK-Pl l!T TON

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till the historian;^d- stepped out of his bubble, then Ce said : “Do yop think ' we ought to use our method o£ reviving the long dead?” Yoal was thoughtful, “I have been asking ques^ons of the vari- ous people who have landed, and there is something wrong here. This planet has no surviving life, not even insect life.. We’ll have to find out what happened before we risk , any colonization.^- . Enash said ndt)iing. A soft wind was blowing. It rustled through a clump of trees Inearby. He mo- tioned towards the, trees. Yoal nodded and said : “Yes, the plant life has not been harmed, but plants after all are not affected in the same way as the ac- tive life forms.” There was an interruption. A voice spoke from Yoal’s receiver: “A museum has been found at ap- proximately the center of the city. A red light has been fixed to the roof.” Enash said : ‘T’il go with you, Yoal. There might be skeletons of animals and of the intelligent being in various stages of his evolution. You didn’t answer my question: Are you going to revive these be- ings ?” Yoal said slowly: “I intend to discuss the matter with the council, but I think there is no doubt. We must know the cause of. this disas- ter.” He waved one sucker vaguely to take in half the conqwss. He added as an afterthought, “We shall proceed cautiously, of course, be- ginning with an obviously early de- THE MONSTER- h^opment. The absence of the skel- etons of children indicates that the race had developed personal im- mortality.” The council came to look at. the exhibits. It was, Enash knew, .a formal preliminary only. The deci- sion was made. There would be re- vivals. It was more than that. Th^ were curious. Space was Vast, tlte journeys through it long aftd lonely, landing always a stimulating expe- rience, with its prospect of new life forms to be seen and studied. The museum looked ordinary. High-domed ceilings, vast rooms. Plastic ‘models of strange beasts, many artifacts — too many to see and comprehend in so short a time. The life span of a race was impris- oned here in a progressive array of relics: Enash looked with the others, and was glad when they came to the line of skeletons and preserved bodies. He seated him- self behind the energy screen, and watched the biological experts take a preserved body out of a stone sarcophagus. It was wrapped in windings of cloth, many of them. The experts did not bother to un- ravel the rotted material. Their forceps reached through, pinched a piece of the skull — that was the ac- cepted procedure. Any part of the skeleton could be used, but the mo$t perfect revivals, the most complete reconstructions resulted when a certain section of the skull was used. Hamar, the chief biologist, ex- plained the choice of <^ody. “The chemicals used to preserve this 87

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mummy show a sketchy knowledge of chemistry; the carvings on the sarcophagus indicate a crude and immechanical culture. In such a civilization there would not be much development of the potentialities of the nervous system. Our speech experts have been analyzing the re- corded voice mechanism which is a part of each exhibit, and though - many languages are involved — evi- dence that the ancient language spoken at the time the body was alive has been reproduced — they found no difficulty in translating the meanings. They have now adapted our universal speech ma- chine, so that anyone who wishes to, need merely speak into his commu- nicator, and so will have his words translated into the language of the revived person. The reverse, nat- urally, is also true. Ah, I see we are ready for the first body.’' Enash watched intently with the others, as the lid was clamped down on the., plastic reconstructor, and the growth processes were started. He could feel himself becoming tense. For there was nothing hap- hazard about what was happening. In a few minutes a full-grown an- cient inhabitant of this planet would sit up and stare at them. The sci- ence involved was simple and al- ways fully effective. .... Out of the shadows of smallness life grows. The level of beginning and ending, of life and — not life; in that dim region matter oscillates easily between old and new habits. The habit of organic, or the hal)it of inorganic. Electrons ^o not have life and un-life values. Atoms know noth- ing of inanimateness. But when atoms form into molecules, there is a step in the process, one tiny step, that is of life — if life begins at all. One step, and then darkness. Oc aliveness. A stone or a living cell. A grain of gold or a blade of grass, the sands of the sea or the equally nu- merous animalcules inhabiting the endless fishy, waters — the difference ds there in the twilight zone of mat- ter. Each living cell has in it the whole form. The crab grows, a new leg when the old one is torn from its flesh. Both ends of the plana- rian worm elongate, and soon there are two worms, tw6 identities, two digestive systems, each as greedy as the original, each a whole, un- w'ounded, unharmed by its experi- ence. Each cell can be the whole. Each cell remembers in a detail so intri- cate that no totality of words could ever describe the completeness achieved. But — paradox — memory is not organic. An ordinary wax record remembers sounds. A wire recorder easily gives up a duplicate of the voice that spoke into it years before. Memory is a physiological impres- sion, a mark on matter, a change in the shape of a molecule, so that wlicn a reaction is desired the shape emits the same rliythm of respon.se. Out of the mummy’s skull had come the multi-quadrillion memory shapes from which a response was now being evoked. As ever, the memory held true. 58 ASTOUNDINOr SCIEXCE -FICTION

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A nian blinked^ and opened .his eyes. “It is true, then,” he said aloud, and the words were translated into the Ganae tongue as he spoke them. “Death is merely an opening into another life — but where are my at- tendants ?“ At the end, his voice took on a complaining tone. He sat up, and climbed out of the case, which Itad automatically opened as he came to life. He saw his captors. He froze — but only for a moment. He had a pride and a very special arrogant courage, which served him novr. Reluctantly, he sank to his knees, and made obeisance, but doubt must have been strong in him. “Am I in the presence of the gods of Egyp- tus?” He climbed to his feet. “What nonsense is this? I do not bow to nameless demons.” Captain Gorsid said: “Kill him!” The two-le^ed monster dis- solved, writhing, in the beam of a ray gun. The second man stood up palely, and trembled with fear. “My God, I swear I won't touch the stuff again. Talk about pink elephants — ” Yoal was curious. “To what stuff do you refer, revived one?” “The old hooch, the poison in the old hip jx)cket flavsk, the juice they gave me at that speak . . . my lordie 1” Captain Gorsid looked question- ingly at Yoal. “Need we linger?” Yoal hesitated: “I am curious.” He addressed the man. “If I were to tell you that we were visitors from smother star, what would be your reaction?” The man sthred at him. He was obviously puzzled, but the fear was stronger. “Now, look,” he said, “I was driving along, minding my own business. I admit I'd had a shot or two too many, but it’s the Hquor they serve these days. I swear I didn’t see the other car — and if this is some new idea of punishing peo- ple who drink and drive, well, you’ve won. I won't touch another drop as long as I livg, so help me.” Yoal said: “He drives a ‘car’ and thinks nothing of it. Yet we saw no cars; they didn’t even bother to preserve them in the museum.” Enash noticed that everyone waited for everyone else to com- ment. He stirred as he realized the circle of silence w'ould be complete unless he spoke. He said : “Ask him to describe the car. How' does it work?” “Now, you’re talking,” said the man. “Bring on your line of chalk, and I’ll walk it. and ask any ques- tions you please. I may be so tight that 1 can’t see straight, bvit I can always drive. How does it work? You just put her in gear, and step on the gas.” “Gas,” said engineering officer Veed. “The internal combustion engine. That places jiim.” Captain Gorsid motioned to the guard with the ray gun. The third man sat up, and looked at them thoughtfully. “From the stars?” he said finally. “Have you a system, or was it blind chance?” The Ganae councillors in that THB MONSTER w

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domed room stirred uneasily in their <nirvcd cliairs. Enash caught ^Ybal’s eye on him ; the shock in the historian’s eyes alarmed the meteo; * ologist He thought: “The two- legged one’s adjustment to a new situation, his grasp of realities, was unnormally rapid. No Ganac could have equaled the swiftness of the reaction.” Hamar, the chief l)iologist, said : “Speed of thought is not necessarily a s'i^ of superiority. The slow, careful thinker has his place in the heirarchy of intellect.” But, Enash found himself think- itig, it was not the speed ; it was the accuracy of the response. He tried to imagine him.<5clf being revived from the dead, and understanding instantly the meaning of the pres- ence of aliens from the stars. He couldn’t have done it. He forgot his thought, for the man was out of the case. As Enash watched with the others, he walked briskly over to the window and looked out. One glance, and then he tomed back. *Ts it all like this?” he asked. Once £^ih, the speed of his un- derstanding caused a sensation; It was Yoal who finally replied. “Yes, Desolation. Death. Ruin. Have you any idea as to what hap- pened ?” The man came back and stood in front of the energy screen that guarded the Ganae. “May I look over the museum? I have to esti- mate what age I am in. We had certain possibilities of destruction when I was last alive, but which one was realized depends on tlic time elapsed.” The councillors looked at Cap- tain Gorsid, who hesitated; then: “Watch him,” he said to the guard with the ray gun. He faced the man. "We understand your aspira- tions fully. You would like to seize control of this situation, and in- sure your own safety. I^t me re- assure you. Make no false moves, an<l all will be well.” Whether or not the man believed the lie, be gave no sign. Nor did he show by a glance or a move- ment that he had seen the scarred floor where the ray gun had burned his two predecessors into nothing- ness. He walked curiously to the nearest doorway, studied the other guard who waited there for him, and then, gingerly, stepped through. The first guard followed him, then came the mobile energy screen, and finally, trailing one another, ihe councillors. Enash was the third to pass through the doorway. The room contained skeletons and plas- tic models of animals. The room beyond that was what, for want of a better term, Enash called' a cul- ture room. It contained the arti- facts from a single period of civil- ization. It looked very advanced. He had examined some of the ma- chines when they first p^sed through it, and had thought : Atomic cneigy. He was not alone in his recognition. From behind him, Captain Gorsid said: “You are forbidden to touch anything. A false move will be the signal for the guards to fire.” ASTOUNDING SCIRNCK-FTCTTON

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The man stood at ease in the cen* ter of the room. In spite of a curi* ons an^dety, Enash had to admire his calmness. He must have known what his fate would be, but he stood there thoughtfully, and .said finally, deliberately: ‘T do not need to go any ^farther. Perhaps, you will be able better than 1 to judge of the time that lias elapsed since 1 was born and' these machines were built. I see over there an instrument which, accord- ing to the sign above it, counts atoms w'hen they explode. As soon as the proper number have exploded it shuts off the power automatically, and for just the right length of time to prevent a chain explosion. ' In my time we had a thousand crude devices for limiting the size of an atomic reaction, but it required two thousand years to develop those devices from the early b^innings of atomic energy. Can you make a comparison?” The councillors glanced at Veed. The engineering officer hesitated. At last, reluctantly: “Nine thousand years ago we had . a thousand meth- ods of limiting atomic explosions.” He paused, then even more slowly, “I have never h^rd of an instru- ment that counts out atoms for. such a purpose.” “And yet,” murmured Shuri, the astronomer bmtblessly, “the race was destroyed.” There was silence — that ended as Gorsid said to the nearest guard, “Kill the monster !” But it was the guard who went down, bursting into flame. Not just one guard, but the guards! Simul- taneously down, burning with . a blue flame. The flame licked at the screen, recoiled, and licked more furiously, recoiled and burned brighter. Through a haze of fire, Enash saw that the man had re-, treated to the far door, and that the machine that counted atoms, was glowing with a blue intensity. Captain Gorsid shouted into his communicator : “Guard all exits with ray guns, Spaceships stand by to kill alien with heavy guns.” Somebody laid : “Mental control, some kind of mental control. What have we run into?” They were retreating. The Wue fire was at the ceiling, struggling to break through the screen. Enash had a last glimpse of the machine. It must still be counting atoms, for it was a hellish blue. Enash raced with the others to the room where the man had been resur- rected. ■ There another energy screen crashed to their rescue. Safe now,, they retreated into their sep- arate bubbles and whisked through outer doors and up to flie ship. As the great ship soared, an atomic bomb hurtled down fr(Mn it. The mushrooQi of flame blotted out the museum and the city below. “But we still don’t know why the race died,” .Y.oal whispered into Enash's ear, after the thunder had died from the heavens behind them. The pale yellow sun crept over the horizon on the third morning after the bomb was dropped — the eighth day since the landing. Enash floated wdth the cMhers down on a .THE MONSTER

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new city. He had come to argue against any further revival. “As a meteorologist,” he said, “I pronounce this planet safe for Ganae colonization. I cannot see the need for taking any risks. This 'race has discovered the secrets of its nervous system, and we cannot aliford — ” . He was interrupted. Plamar, the biologist, said dryly: “If they knew so much why didn’t they migrate to other star systems and save themselves ?” ^ “I will concede,” said Enash, “that very possibly they had not discovered our system of locating stars with planetary families.” He looked earnestly around the circle of his friends. “We have agreed that- was a unique accidental dis- covery. We were lucky, not clever.” He saw by the expressions on their faces that they were mentally refuting his arguments. He felt a helpless sense of imminent catas- trophe. For he could see that pic- ture of a great race facing death. It must* have come swiftly, but not so swiftly that they didn’t know about it. There were too many skeletons in the open, lying in the gardens of the magnificent homes, as if each man and his wife had come out to wait for the doom of his kind. He tried to picture it for the coun- cil, that last day long, long ago, when a race had calmly met its ending. But his visualization failed somehow, for the others shifted im- patiently in the seats that had been set up behind the series of energy screens, and Captain Gorsid said : 62 “Exactly what aroused this' in- tense emotional reaction in you, Enas.h ?” The question gave Enash pause. He hadn’t thought of it as emo- tional. He hadn’t realized the na- ture of his obsession, so subtly liad it stolen upon him. Abruptly, now, he realized. “It was the third one,” lie said slowly. “I saw him through the haze of energy fire, and he was standing there in the distant door- way watching us curiously, just be- fore we turned to run. His bravery, his calm, the skilful way he had duped us — it all added up.” “Added up to his death?” said Hamar. And everybody laughed. “Come now, luiash,” said vice- captain Mayad good-humoredly, “you’re not going to pretend that this race is braver than our own, or that, with all the precautions we have now taken, we need fear one man Enash was silent, feeling foolish. The discovery that he had had ah emotional obsession abashed him. He did not want to appear unrea- sonable. One final protest he made, “I merely wish to point out,” he said doggedly, “that this desire to discover what happened to a dead race does not seem absolutely essen- tial to me.” Captain Gorsid tvaved at the biologist. “Proceed,” he said, “with the revival.” To Enash. he said: "Do we dare return to Gana, and recommend mass migrations — and then admit that we did not actually complete ASTOUNDING S Cl BN CR-F ICT f ON

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«ur imrestigations here? It’s iin> possible, my friend/* It was the old argument, but reluctantly now Enash admitted there was something to be said for that point of view. He forgot that, for the fourth man was stirring. The man sat up — and \'ani$hed. There was a blank, startled, horri- fied silence. Then Captain Gorsid said harshly : “He can’t get out of there. We know that. He’s in there some- where.” All around Enash, the Ganae were out of their chairs, peering into the energy shell. The guards stood with ray guns held limply in their suckers. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the pro- tective screen technicians beckon to Veed, who went over — and came back grim. “I’m told the needles jumped ten points when he first disappeared. Tliat’s on the nucleonic level.” “By ancient Ganae !” Shuri whis- pered. “We’ve run into what we’ve always feared.” Gorsid was shouting into the communicator. “Destroy all the locators on the ship. Destroy them, do you hear!” He turned with glary eyes. “Shuri,” he bellowed, “they don’t seem to imderstand. Tell those subordinates of yours to act. All locators and reconstructors must be destroyed.” “Hurry, hurry !” said Shuri weakly. THE UONSTEE When that was done ^y breathed more easily. There were grim ^niles and a tensed satisfac- tion. “At least,” swd Vice captain Mayad, “he cannot now ever dis- cover Gana. Our great system of locating suns with planets remains our secret. There can be no retalia- tion for—” He stopped, said slowly, “What am I talldng about? We haven’t done anything. We’re not responsible for the disaster tlwit has befallen the inhabitants of this planet.” But Enash knew ■ what he had meant. The guilt feelings came to the surface at such moments as this — the ghosts of all the races destroyed by the Ganae, the re- morseless wilL that had been in them, when they first landed, to annihilate whatever was here. The dark abyss of voiceless hate and terror that lay behind them; the days on end when they had merci- lessly poured poisonous radiation down upon the unsuspecting inhabi- tants of peaceful planets — all that had been in Mayad’s words. “I still refuse to believe he has escaped.” That was Captain Gor- sid. “He’s in there. He’s waiting for us to take down our screens, so he am escape. Well, we won’t do it.” There was silence again, as they stared expectantly into the energy shell — into the emptiness of the energy shell. The reconstructor rested on its metal supports, a glit- tering affair. But there wa^ noth- ing else. Not a flicker of unnatural light or shade. The yellow rays of the sun bathed the open spaces 96

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with a brilliance that left no room for concealment. “Guards,” said Gorsid, “destroy the reconstructor. I thought he might come back to examine it, but we can’t take a chance on that.” It burned with a white fury ; and Enash who had hoped somehow that the deadly energy would force the two-legged thing into the open, felt his hopes sag within him. “But where can he have gone ?” Y^oal whispered. Enash turned to discuss the mat- ter, In the act of swinging around, he saw that the monster was stand- ing under a tree a score of feet to one side, watching them. He must have arrived that moment, for there was a collective gasp from the coun- cillors. Everybody drew back. One of the screen technicians, using great presence of mind, jerked up an energy screen between the Ganae and the monster. The creature came forward slowly. He was slim of build, he held his head well back. His eyes shone as from an inner lire. He stopped as he came to the screen, reached out and touched it with his fingers. It flared, blurred with changing colors ; the colors grew brighter, and extended in an intricate pattern all the way trpm liis head to the ground. The blur cleared. The colors drew back into the pattern. The pattern faded into invisibility. The man was through the screen. He laughed, a soft sound; then sobered. “When I first wakened,” he said, “T was curious about the situation. The question \Vas, what should I do with you?” The words had a fateful ring to Enash on the still morning air of that planet of the dead. A voice broke the silence, a voice so strained and unnatural that a moment passed before he recognized it as belonging to Captain Gorsid. "Kill him!'’ When the blasters ceased their effort, the unkillable thing remained standing. He walked slowly for- ward until he was only half a dozen feet from the nearest Ganae. Enash had a position well to the rear. The man said slowly: “Two courses suggest themselves, one based on gratitude for reviving tne, the other based on reality. I know you for what you are. Yes, knozi' you— and that is unfortunate. It is hard to feel merciful. “To begin with,” he went on, “let us suppose you surrender the secret of the locator. Naturally, now that a system exists, we shall never again ])e caught as we were—” Iriiash had been intent, his mind so alive with the potentialities of the disaster thaf was here that it seemed inijjossible he muld think of any- thing else. And yet, now a part of his attention was stirred. “\\Iiat did happen?” . 'I'he man changed color. 'I'he emotions of that far day thickened his voice. “A nucleonic storm. It swept in from tjuter space. It brushed this edge of our galaxy. It was about ninety light-years in diameter, beyond the farthe.st limits A S T O U N D I N a S C T E N C K - F 1 C JM O y

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of our power. There was no es- ; Around Enash, the councillors cape from it. We had dispensed were breathing' easier. The fear pf with spaceships, and had no time race destruction that had come to to construct any. Castor, the only them was lifting. Enash saw with star with planets ever discovered by pride that the first shock was over, us, was also in the path of the and they were not even afraid . for storm.” themselves. He stopped. “The secret he “Ah,” said Yoal softly, “you said. don’t know the secret. In spite of

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all your great development, we alone can conquer the galaxy.” He looked at the others, smiling confidently. “Gentlemen,” he said, “our pride in a great Ganae achieve- ment is justified. I suggest we re- turn to our ship. We have no fur- ther business on this planet.” There was a confused moment while their bubbles formed, when Hnash wondered if the two-legged one would try to stop their depar- ture. But the man, when he looked back, was walking in a leisurely fashion along a street. That was the memory Enash car- ried with him, as the ship began to move. That and the fact that the three atomic bombs they dropped, one after the other, failed to explode- “We will not,” said Captain Gor- sid, “give up a planet as easily as that., I propose another interview with the creature.” They were floating down again into the city, Enash and Yoal and Veed and the commander. Captain Gorsid’s voice tuned in once more : “. . . . As I visualize it” — through mist Enash could see the transparent glint of the other three bubbles around him — ^“we jumped td conclusions about this creature, not justified by the evidence. For instance, when he awakened, he van- ished. Why? Because he was afraid, of epurse. He wanted to size up the situation. He didn’t believe he was omnipotent.” It was sound logic. Enash found himself taking h^rt from it. Sud- denly, he was astonished that he had '6f become panicky so easily. He be- gan to see the danger in a new light. One man, only one man, alive bn a new planet. If they were deter- mined enough, colonists could be moved in as if he did not exist. It had been done before, he recalled. On several planets, small groups of the original populations had sur- vived the destroying- radiation, and taken refuge in remote areas. In almost every case, the new colonists gradually hunted them down. In two in.staiices, however, that Enash remembered, native races were still bolding small sections of their planets. In each case, it had been found impractical to destroy them because it would have endangered the Ganae on the planet. So the survivors were tolerated. One man would not take up very much room. When, they found him, he was busily sweeping out the lower floor of a small bungalow. He put the broom aside, and stepped onto the terrace outside. He had put on sandals, and he wore a loose-fitting robe made of very shiny material. He eyed them indolently but he said nothing. ^ It was Captain Gorsid who made the proposition. Enash had to ad- mire the story he told into the lan- guage machine. The commander was very frank. That approach had been decided on. He pointed out that the Ganae could not be ex- pected to revive the dead of this planet. Such altruism would l>e unnatural considering that the ever- growing Ganae hordes had a con- tinual need for new worlds. Each ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-DICTION

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vast new population increment was a problem that could be solved by one method only. In this instance, the colonists would gladly respect the rights of the sole survivor of the — It was at that point that the man interrupted. “But what is the pur- pose of this endless expansion?” He seemed genuinely curious. “What will happen when you finally occupy everv planet in this galaxy ?” Captain Gorsid’s puzried eyes met Y^oaVs then flashed to Veed, then Enash. Enash slmigged his torso negatively, and felt pity . for the creature. The man didn't un- derstand, possibly never could un- derstand. It was the old story of two different viewpoints, the virile and the decadent, the race that aspired to the «tars and the race that declined the call of destiny. “Wliy not,” urged the man, “con- trol the breeding chambers?” “And have the government over- thrown!” said Yoal. He spoke tolerantly, and Enash saw that the others were smiling at the man’s naivete. He felt, the intellectual gulf between them widening. The man had no com- prehension of the natural life forces that were at work. He said now : “Well, if you don’t control them, we will control them for you.” There was silence. They began to stiffen. Enash felt it in himself, saw the signs of it in the others. His gaze flicked from face to face, then back to the crea- ture in the doorway. Not for the THE MONSTER first time Enash had the thought that their enemy seemed helpless. “Why,” he almost decided, “I could put my suckers around him and crush him.” He wondered if mental control of nucleonic, nuclear and gravi- tonic energies included the ability to defend oneself from a macro- cosmic attack. He had an idea it did. The exhibition of power two hours before might have had limita- tions, but, if so, it was not apparent. Strength or weakness could make no difference. The threat of threats had been made: “If you don’t con- trol— we will.” The words echoed in Enash's brain, and, as the meaning pene- trated deeper, his aloofness faded. He had always regarded himself as a spectator. Even when, earlier, he had argued agmnst the revival, he had been aware of a detached part of himself watching the scene rather than being a part of it. He saw with a sharp clarity that that was why he had finally yielded to the conviction of the others. Going back beyond that to re- moter days, he saw that he had never quite considered himself a participant in the seizure of the planets of other races. He was the one who looked on, and thought of reality, and speculated on a life that seemed to have no meaning. It was meaningless no longer. He was caught by a tide of irre- sistible emotion, and swept along. He felt himself sinking, merging with the Ganae mass being. All the strength and all the will of the race surged up in his veins. AST— 3X 6T

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He snajrled : “Creature, if you have any hopes of reviving your dead race, abandon them now.” The man looked at him, but said nothing. Enash rushed on : “If you could destroy us, you would have done so already. But the truth is that you operate within limitations. Our ship is so built that no conceivable chain reaction could be started in it. For every plate of potential unstable material iff it there is a counteracting plate, which prevents the development of a critical pile. You might be able to set off explosions in our engines, but they, too, would be limited, and would merely start the process for which they are intended — confined in their proper space.” He was aware of Yoal touching his arm. “Careful,” warned the historian., “Do not in your just anger give away vital information.” Enash shook off the restraining sucker. “Let us not be unrealistic,” he said harshly. “This thing has divined most of our racial secrets, apparently merely by looking at our bodies. We would be acting childishly if we assumed that he has not already realized the possi- bilities of the situation.” “Enash!” Captain Gorsid’s voice w^as imperative. As swiftly as it had come Enash’s rage subsided. He stepped back. “Yes, commander.” “I think J know what you in- tended to say,” said Captain Gor- sid. “I assure you I am in full accord, but I believe also that I, as the top Ganae official, should deliver the ultimatum.” He turned. His horny body towered above the man. “You have made the unforgivable threat. You have told us, in effect, that you will attempt to restrict th^ vaulting Ganae spirit — ” “Not the spirit,” said the man. He laughed softly. “No, not the spirit.” The commander ignored the in- terniption. “Accordingly, we have no alternative. We are assuming that, given time to locate the ma- terials and develop the tools, you might be able to build a recon- structor. “In our opinion it will be at least two years before you can com- plete it, even if you know how. It is an immensely intricate macliine not easily assembled by the lone survivor of a race .'that gave up its machines millennia jjefore disaster struck. “You did not have time to build a spaceship. “We won’t give you time to build a rccon.structor. “Within a few minutes our ship will start dropping bombs. It is possible you will be able to prevent explosions in your vicinity. We will start, accordingly, on the other side of the planet.' If you stop us there, then we will assume we need Kelp. .“In six months of traveling at top acceleration, we can reach a point where the nearest Ganae planet would hear our messages. They will send a .fleet so vast that all your powers of resistance will be overcome. By dropping a hun- dred or a thousand bombs every ASTOUNDING SCI UNUE-FICTION

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minute we will succeed in devastat- ing every ‘city, so that not, a grain of dust will remain of the skeletons of your people. ^That is our plan, "So it shall be. "Now, do your worst to us who arc at your mercy.” The man shook his head. ‘T shall do nothing — now 1” he said. He paused, then thoughtfully, "Your reasoning is fairly accurate. Fairly. Naturally, I am not all powerful, but it seems to me you have forgotten one little point. “I won't tell you what it is. “And now,” he said, ‘‘^ood day to you. Get back to your ship, and be on your way, I have much to do.” Enash had been standing quietly, aware of the fury building up in him again. Now, with a hiss, he sprang forward, suckers .out- stretched. They were almost touch- ing the smooth flesh — when some- thing snatched at him. He was back on the ship. He had no memory of move- ment, no sense of being dazed or harmed. He was aware of Veed and Yoal and Captain Gorsid stand- ing near him as astonished as he himself. Enash remained very still, thinking of what the man had said : "... Forgotten one little point." Forgotten ? That meant they knew. What could it be? He wa.s still pondering about it when Yoal said : "We can be reasonably certain our l)omb.s alone will not work.” Tliey didn’t. Forty light-years out from Earth, Enash was summoned to the coun- cil chambers. Yoal greeted him wanly : "The monster is aboard.” The thunder of that poured ' through Enash, and with it came a sudden comprehension. "That what he ^eant we had forgotten,” he said finally, aloud and wonder- ingly, “that he can travel through space at will within a limit — what was the figure he once used — of ninety light-years.” He sighed. He was not sur- prised that the Ganae, who had to use ships, would not have thought immediately of such a possibility. Slowly, he began to retreat from the reality. ■ Now that the shock had come, he felt old and weary, a sense of his mind withdrawing ^;ain to its earlier state of aloofness. It required a few minutes to get the story. A physicist’s assistant, on his“way to the storeroom, had caught a glimpse of a man in a lower corridor. In such a heavily manned ship, the Mronder was that the intruder had escaped earlier observation. Enash had a th(^ht. "But after all we are not going all the way to one of our i^anets. How does he expect to make use of us to locate it if we only use video — ” He stopped. That was it, of course. Directional video beams- would have to be used, and the^man would travel in the right direction the instant contact was made. Enash saw the decision in the eyes of his companions, the only possible decision under the circum- stances. And yet — it seemed to THTJ MONSTER

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him they were missing some vital point. He walked slowly to the great video plate at one ^d of the cham- ber. There was a picture on it, so vivid, so sharp, so majestic that the unaccustomed mind would have reeled as from a stunning blow. Even to him, who knew the scene, there came a constriction, a sense of unthinkable vastness. It was a video view of a section of the milky way. Four hundred million stars as seen through telescopes that could pick up the light of a red dwarf at thirty thousand light- years- The video plate was twenty-five yards' in diameter — 2, scene that had no parallel elsewhere in the plenum. Other galaxies simply did not have that many stars. Only one in two hundred thou- sand of those glowing suns had planets. That was the colossal fact that compelled them now to an irrevoc- able act. Wearily, Enash looked around him. **The monster had been very dever,” he said quietly. “If we go ahead, he goes with us — obtains a reconstructor and returns by his method to his planet. If we use the directional beam, he flashes along it, obtains a reconstructor and again reaches his planet first. In either event, by the time our fleets arrived back there, he would have revived ^ough of his kind to thwart any attack we could mount.” He shook his torso. The picture was accurate, he felt surei but it 7t Still seemed incomplete. He said Slowly:, “We have one advantage now. Whatever decision we make, there is no language machine to enable him to learn what it is. We can carry out our plans without his knowing what they will be. He knows tliat neither he nor we can blow up the ship. That leaves us one reaJ alternati\-e.” It was Captain Gorsid who broke the silence that followed. “Well, gentlemen, I see We know our minds. We will set the engines, blow up the controls — and take him with us.” They looked at each other, race pride in their eyes. Enash touched suckers with each in turn. An hour later, when the heat was already considerable, Enash had the thought that sent him staggering to the communicator, to call Shuri, the astronomer. “Shuri,” he yelled, “when ttie monster first awakened — remember Captain Gorsid had difficulty get- ting your subordinates to destroy the locators. We never thought to ask them what the delay was. Ask them . . . ask them — ” There was a pause, then Shuri’s voice came weakly over the roar of static : “They . . . couldn’t . . . get . . . into . . . the . . . room. The door was locked.” Enash sagged to the floor. They had missed more than one point, he realized. The man had awak- ened, realized the situation; and, when he vanished, he had gone to ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-PICXION

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the ship, and there discovered the secret of the locator and possibly the secret of the reconstructor — if he didn’t know it previously. By the time he reappeared, Hfe already had from them what he wanted. All the rest niUst have been de- signed to lead them to this act of desperation. In a few moinants, now, he would be leaving the ship secure in the knowledge that shortly no alien mind would know his planet ex- isted. Knowing,, too, that his race would live again, and this time never die. Enash staggered to his feet, clawed at the roaring communicator; and shouted his new understanding into it. There was no ansjrer. Ii clattered with the static of uncon- trollable and inconceivable energy. The heat was peeling his armored hide, as he struggled to the matter transmitter. It flashed at him with purple Bame. Back to the com- municator He ran shouting and kreaming. He was still whimpering into it a few minutes later when the mighty ship plunged into the heart of a blue-white sun. THE END IN TIMES TO COME Next month, for the first time in quite a while, wc will have no sferial installment, but a long novelette by George 0. Smith called “The Catspaw.” It’s got a neat gimmick in it. Suppose you have thought up a way of running a ship faster than liglit — maybe. The maybe being the possibility that the device will set up a total-annihilation chain reaction not only in the ship, but in any near-by planets or suns 1 Makes one a leetle hesitant about tryii^ it out — unless you can get some poor unsuspecting race to try it. There’s another novelette with a wonderful gimmick, too. It’s a, Doc Methuselah yarn by Rene Lafayette called “The Great Air Monopoly.” Ye]), the monop^ists sold people the right to breathe the planet’s atmosphere. Made it stick, too— if they didn't pay the air tax, they couldn’t breathe 1 Can be done on tiie basis of modem knowledge, too— if you can figure out how worked though, you should be figuring out stories for us! The Editor. THB UONSTEK

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NEW DIELECTRICS By E. L. EOCKE Men can generate poicer, hut to date we have mo satisfactory wag of storing it. The invention of a really effective power- storage device is at least equal in importance to the devel- opment of a power- producing atomic pile, and pr.ohably will mean more to J. Q. Public. This, then, is how things stand: — One^of the pressing technological needs of mankind is _a good way to store electrical energy. While im- proved storage nieans for other kinds of energy would also be wel- comed, it is the lack of an efficient, compact and high capacity elec- tricity storage device that is felt most acutely. This is natural be- cause electrical energy is so con- venient to use and the benefits lo be gained from such a device are so clearly visible. The whole problem of generating electric power is intimately tied up with the methods of energy storage that^e have available. Our present power tecbnolc^y is based on the cliemical energy storage nature has provided us— coal and oil. The processes we are forced to use to get electricity from then! are complicated and not too satisfac- tory. We have potentially available a 7a much more satisfactory source, the solar energy that the earth receives in such abundance. If this could be freely utilized, much of the po- litical tension of the world would disappear, since it is engendered by the quest of the large powers for sources of energy. It is quite likely that the direct conversion of solar energy into elec- tricity could be accomplished even today with fair efficiency and at a reasonable cost. The deterrent has to do with the fact that the sun shines at irregular intervals and the power needs are continuous, though not uniform. Clearly then the solar energy plant will not be practical in ah economic sense until we have a satisfactory energy storage device producible at an acceptable cost. In some ways this would be even a better solution tlian atomic power. The preparation of atomic fuel re- quires elaborate plants and the gen- ASTOUNDINO SCIENCE-FICTION

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oration of clectridt}' and its distri- bution would still involve mor6 or less conventional methods. This brings up another point. ECven if solar energy plants should prove unacceptable from the econ- omic viewpoint, there are other ways in which an electrical storage device would prove to be a boon. Con- sider for a moment what it would do to the problem of generation of clectri«ty from coal and its dis- tribution. The size of a generating plant would no longer be determined by the peak load, but by the average load. This would decrease the size of the plants by a very appreciable factor. The greatest benefits, however, would come from its effect on the distribution proldem. Today a kilo- watt hour of electricity can be gen- erated for a small fraction of a cent. The rest of the electric bill that you pay goes mostly to pay for the cost of the distribution system. If elec- tricity could be delivered in pack- aged form to your house, just as milk is delivered, but by no means as frequently, most of the electric bill would disappear. The uses of such a stor^e de- vice would be multitudinous. To take one at random, the electric automobile would undoubtedly come back because it has some nice ad- vantages over the gasoline-driven one. And to come down to tfiyi- alitics, one could get really good portable radios, transmitters as well as receivers. ' With till these pleasing prospects before us, it is natural to ask what is blocking progress along these 0 4- 8 /2 X (0^ VOLTS/CM FI6.1 VARIATION OF DIELETRIC CONSTANT WITH FIELD STRENGTH AND TEMPER- ATURE) BaT/Oa lines. Let’s see wliat common ways we know to store electrical energ)’ and wliar ni*(j their shortcomings and possibilities. The first method to come to mind is the storage battery and its cousin the dry cell. These store the energy in a chemical form. The storage battery is clumsy, takes a relatively long time to charge and has a lot of other troubles as every car owner knows. The dry cell is, of course, just a one-shot affair, in which the chemical changes are not easily re-^ versible. Electricity can also be stored as' mechanical energy by adding a heavy flywheel to a motor generator, This again is clumsy and further- V» NEW mrLECTlilOS

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nKH’e friction quickly collects a laiigo toll. It k, therefore, unsatk* factory for general use although in a couple of instances it has Seen used in default of anything better. One such case is in a cyclotron now being designed ; another is the way •Peter Kapitaa, the Russian physi- cist, used it to supply for a short time the enormous electric currents needed to produce extremely high intensity magnetic fields. Inductances will also store elec- trical energy which they do by set- ting up a magnetic field. Again it is not- a general purpose storage device because it r^uires a con- tinuous flow of current to maintain the field. But this is precisely what a general purpose device must avoid, and hence while inductances liave their uses, they will not do for the problem at hand. Finally, we have the electrical condenser which in many respects offers the best hope for the ultimate solution of our problem. It can be charged practically instantaneously and the stored energy can be re- covered either quickly or slowly. If it uses the right materials, it will hold its charge, not indefinitely it is true, but for hours and under the right conditions for days. The only real trouble is that the amount of energy that can be stored per unit of volume is as yet too small. The real problem then w'ould be to find materials which vt^ld improve this energy per unit volume figure, and as a secondary, but still im- portant problem, to extend the length of time this energy could be stored. It is the progress on the U first problem that we shall concern onrselvcs with m this article. The earliest form of the electrical concknser, the Leyden Jar, is still a good illustration of what consti- tutes a condenser. If you will re- call your high sriiool physics, the Leyden Jar consists of a glass jar with a coating of tin foil on Its inner and outer surfaces. The metal foil serves as the “plates” of the condenser while the glass acts as the insulator, :pr “dielectric” medium. It stores electrical energy by virtue of the fact that when a voltage is applied across tlie two plates the resulting electric field dis- torts slightly the electronic struc- ture of the dielectric. This is by no means the Avhole story, but it will serve for the present to give a preHminary idea as to what goes on in a condenser. The Leyden Jar, which originally was only^ a laboratory curiosity, has evolved into the modern condenser with multifold uses. It is a basic component in all sorts of commu- nication circuits, where it serves as a tuning element for selective cir- cuits, filters out power hum, isolates circuits and does a great many other things. In the power field, it is used ‘principally to improve the charac- teristics of induction motors. In nuclear physics, the well-known Van de Graff generator is nothing but a huge spherical condenser which can be charged up to some millions of volts. Glass, of course, is seldom used as a dielectric, the most com- mon ones now being air, paper, mica and oil. Let’s look into the question of ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-PICTION

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how much — right now, how little — energy, a condenser can store and on what factors it depends. It turns out that this energy is proportional to the square of the voltage applied across the plates. That is, doubling the applied voltage quadruples the energy stored. It is also propor- tional to the area of the dielectric and inversely proportional to its thickness. It would seem ofFhand. that an easy way to store a lot of energy would be to make the dielectric ex- tremely thin and apply a lot of volt- age across it. Unfortunately, these are contradictory requirements be- cause a given thickness of the di- electric will support only a certain voltage before it breaks down and is physically damaged. This break- down voltage is very nearly pro- portional to the thickness and hence it turns out that the energy tliat can be stored in a unit volume is inde- pendent of the thickness of the dielectric. There is one other factor that enters into the problem which we have not yet mentioned. It is the “dielectric constant’' of the insulator used. This varies from one material to another. The larger it is, the more energy can be stored in a given volume if all other factors are equal. I'he real hope of licking the energy storage problem lies in find- ing materials with very high dielec- tric constants. To get at the notion of what is meant by this term consider a con- denser with a perfect vacuum as the insulator. If we charge this with 3 given voltage, it will store, a certain quantity of energy. Now replace the vacuum with some other insulator and, after chargii^ to the same voltage, measure again the energy stored. We will -find that it is always greater than for the >^uum case. The ratio of the non- vacuum to vacuum enei^es is called the dielectric constant, which we will denote by the symbol K. The table below gives values for a few common materials. TABLE I Material K Air 1. 0001 5 Glass 5-5 to 9-1 Mica 5 to 7 Paper 2.6 Hard Rubber 2.0 to 3 *3 Sulfur 2.9 to 3.2 It will be convenient for future discussion to introduce here the no- tion of capacitance, C. This is a single number which lumps together the effects of plate area, dielectric constant and thickness of the didec- tric. That is to say, we customarily express the energy stored, E, in terms of the applied voltage V and capacitance C through the follow- ing relation E = i (i) If the energy is expressed in watt seconds and the voltage in ordinary volts, the unit of C will be the farad. Now the farad is an impractically NEW DIKT.KCTRICS 76

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lai^e umt and the practical units at« the microfarad (mf) which is one- millionth of the farad and the micro- microfarad (mmf), which is still smaller by another factor of a mil- lion. • The capacitance can be expressed aTso by a simple formula C = .225 AK/t mmf (2) the symbol A standii^ for the area in square inches, t for the thickness of* the dielectric in inches, w’hile K is the dielectric constant. With these formulas before us, let us see how much energy we can store in a condenser. Suppose we take a 10 microfarad condenser which is already on the somewhat bulky size. If it is a good grade of commercial condenser, it will safely withstand about 500 volts, 'fhe energy stored turns out to be watt seconds w'hich would run a 25-watt lamp for all of 1/20 of a second. By our ordinary notions, this certainly does not constitute a lot of energy. Now if we could rmly increase the dielectric constant to — ~ At this point I recall with much mental drooling one of George O. Smith’s Venus Equilateral stories. This one had to do with the con- struction of an energy gun. As you may recall, it required among other things that a tremendous amount of electrical energy be accuniulated and dumped into the gun in a hurry. Now an electrical condenser is just the thing for this purpose, excei^t that Smith’s boys realized that ordi- nary values of dielectric constant 7«- were inadequate. So one of them solved the problem by inventing a material whose dielectric constant w'as up in the multiple billions. It's too bad that this inateriaTis not yet available to us for it would certainly solve our problem. If w’e assume that our present 10 mf condenser uses a ' dielectric with a K of 5. then the substitution of this material with a K of 9 X 10^ tvouid permit us to store sixty thousand billion kilowatt hours of energy! This high a K is really not needed for our purposes. If wc had a more modest value, say a mere billion (10®), we could store a thousand kilowatt hours into a few cubic indies, which would be about right for our purposes. Well, modern research has not come through with a dielectric as good as Sjnith’s, but it did turn up some dandies during the war. As Table I shows, five or six . repre- FI6.2 TYPICAL HYSTERESIS LOOP FOR BaT Os ASTOUNDIKO BCIBNCE-FICTTON

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rented before the war a high value of dielectric constant K. Of course there was water, which' had a K of about 8o, but it unusable be- cause of its high losses. Now, as the result of the war effort, we have available the new dielectrics whose Ks run from lOO to {is much as c 2,000! As is to be expected, the extremely high K value materials tend to be somewhat lossy, but nevertheless they are remarkedly good compared to clectrolytics. The material with tlic K of 100 is as- tonishingly good, ranking with the best previously known. Before describing these new ma- terials, let us see what they will mean to the users. Suppose we had an air condenser the size of a penny, the area of which is .44 square inches. If the separation between plates was .005 inches, its capaci- tance, since K is practically unity for air, would be about 20 mmf. If we substituted for air the new dielectric with the K of 100, the capacitance would be 2,000 mmf. Hence a good radio condenser could be made in a size considerably smaller than a penny. If wc used a K of 12,000, the penny .size would result in a capacitance of about ^ of a microfarad, which is getting up into the si^hle range. Suppose we wanted to use this tyiie of con- denser for a tmm filter in a radio power supply. Tliis needs about 10 microfarads, .say. Then we would need 40 layers of the tlielec- tric. Assuming that the metal needed for plates would also he .005 inches thick, the total pile-up NKW DIKT.KCTRICg would be about 4/10 inches. Hence this condenser would take up no more room than a stack of 7 pen- nies! Or again, consider the matter of delaying electrical signals. This is a very necessary matter in some radar circuits. The delay needed is not very much by ordinary stan- dards of time reckoning, being only one-one millionth of a second. Yet, if one were to use an ordinary wave guide for this purpose, it would have to be about 1,000 feet long. Now the velocity with which an electromagnetic wave is prop^ated varies inversely with'the square root of the dielectric constant. Hence using a wave guide filled with the low loss K 100 material, the length is reduced to lOO feet. This is not short, yet it is quite an im- provement over what was available before. It is amusing to consider how Smith’s piaterial would have worked. For air K is unity and the speed is the same as the speed of light in air, or thirty billion centi- meters per second. In Smith’s material, the speed of light would get down to one centimeter pei' second, a figure which any slow poke of a turtle coukl easily beat. Our delay line would need to be only 1/1,000,000 cm long! Inci- dentally, as my friend J. J. Coupling |x>ints out, maybe this hypothetical material would not have been so good for an energy gun after all. Wlien a condenser ^harges or dis- charges, the energy flow is at a finite s|)ecd, namely, the velocity of the electromagnetic magnetic wave tt

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through the-dielectric. At one centi- meter per second, it would take about i/ioo seconds for the wave to pass through .004 inch thick layer of dielectric. This is pretty slow, particularly for energy gun applications. Let’s turn to a consideration of the physical properties of these new materials. First of all, they are all compounds of the element titanium. The ones that have been investigated most, thoroughly are titanium diox- ide Ti02, and the titanates of mag- nesium, calcium, strontium and barium, whose chemical formula is XTiOg, where. X stands for one atom of any of the elements listed. Finally, there have been studies made on mi?rtures of these, the most interesting ones being those of barium and strontium. All these compounds are ceramics and are prepared for use by firing at for several hours followed by a very slow cool. Titanium dioxide is interesting from the practical standpoint be^ cause it is such a high quality con- denser material. It has a dielectric constant of about 100. The aston- ishing thing about this is that it holds this value . with remarkable constancy from d. c. all the way up to 10,000 megacycles— 3 cms wave length. What it does beyond this frequency is not yet public knowl- edge, there lieing no published data. This constancy is a completely sur- prising behavior, since a high dielec- tric constant at a low frequency generally implies a rapid dropping off with increasing frequency. In the past, materials that held their n dielectric constant up to these ultra- high frequencies had Ks of about 3 only. Let’s digress for a moment and look at this matter of the variation of dielectric constant with fre- quency. When an alternating volt- age is applied to a condenser the internal electric field, that is the forces acting on the electronic struc- ture, will oscillate at the same fre- quency as the applied -voltage. Now if the electronic structure is capable of following these alternating forces, the dielectric constant will rehiain unchanged. , However, if the structure is of a type that shows less and less »ability to - follow as the frequency is raised, the dielec- tric constant will show a corres- ponding decrease. An example of this type of ma- terial is water. We have mentioned that it has a K of 80. This is true only at low frequencies. At optical frequencies it has dropped to about 1.75. This is known from the fact that the index of refraction of water is about 1.33. This index is merely the ratio of the speed of light in air to that in the medium under question. We have already men- tioned that the speed of propagation of an electromagnetic wave is in- versely proportional to the square root of the dielectric constant. Hence it follows that the dielectric constant of water at optical fre- quencies is T.33 X 1.33 or 175- In view of the constancy of the dielectric constant of titanium diox- ide with frequency, it is not too surprising that it lias very low elec- ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-PICTIOK

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HfO -60 +20 100 fSOt FIGJ DIELECTRIC CONSTANT AND LOSS OF BciTiO , AT IKc AND Z3 ^ VOLTS IcAA trical Josses. From about i,ooo cycles CO 10,000 megacycles, its loss factor never exceeds 4/10,000 and on. the average it is considerably better than this figure. This means that when power is being supplied to the condenser only 4/100 per cent or less is being dissipated as heat ! The material has a somewhat complicated behavior with tempera- ture. As the temperature is in- creased the K drops uniformly, at the rate of about i/io per cent per degree Centigrade. As some critical temperature, the K starts to increase but at a much steeper rate. The location of this critical temperature depends on the frequency. For in- stance, at 60 cycles, it is about 95®C : at 1,000 cycles it is i40°C: while at 100 kilocycles it has shifted up to 240°C. This means that for high- frequency work the user- need not worry about the operating tempera- n KEW DlKLKCTRICfS

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ture getting up so high that the transition point tvill be reached. So much for TiO». The material that really captures the imagination, and one tliat is proving a happy hunting ground for ph}'sicist's, is I)arium titanate and its mixtures with strontium titanate. It almost scents that all you have to do is to mention any physical effect and barium titanate will have it in an exaggerated form. It is what is called a- ferro- electric material. This means that in the field of electrification this material bears the same relation to other dielectrics as iron does to i>ther materials in regards to mag- netization. The parallelism is quite close in many respects. The dielectric constant is enor- mous by ordinary standards. Fur- thermore it varies considerably with the strength of tlie applied electric field in about the same way tliat the permeability of iron does with external magnetic field. At first K increases considerably with increas- ing field strength. It then reaches a maximum value and with further increases in field strength it drops off in value, rather slowly. Typical plots for three tciniK^ratures are shown in Figure r. It will be seen that at 22''’C the dielectric constant starts in at about 2,000, and by the time a field strength of 9,000 volts per centimeter is reached K hits a maximum of over 8,000. Now while this voltage gradient seems high, actually it can be reached quite easily in a practical condenser. Taking the dielectric to be .005 inches in thickness, it would take M only 115 volts across the condenser to get to this pointi \ Like iron, it has a hysteresis loop. A typical one is shown in Figure 2, which shows the charge that such a condenser will have as a function of cyclic voltage across it. For a given maximum voltage , the shape and size of the loop depends a great deal on the tem],)erature. Starting from — I75°C, the loops increase in area iqi to — 8o®C. There is an ab- rupt drop at this point, and the curve starts in at about of the former value, rises' again until at 15^0 it reaches the same value as at — 8o°C. Again there is an abrupt break, but this time further increase ill temperature decreases the loop area. One more break occurs at about 85°C, the area suddenly drop- ping to half its former value, and from there on the' area decreases continuously and rjqjidly, when it finally disappears at about J40°C. These multiple abrupt brealcs are indicative of the fac-t that the crystal structure of the material can take on at least four different forms, the known changes from one to the other occurring at the temperatures mentioned. The* fact that the material has hysteresis brings about another curious effect. If one takes a con- denser of this material and puts on both a d.c. and an a.c. voltage, the a.c. capacitance measured will be far from the .same as the capacitance to d.c. One might be tempted to tliink that the former would be proportional to the slope of the K-applied voltage curve shown in Figure i. However, just as in the ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-PIOTION

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case of iron core choke coils — as, for instance, in radio B voltage supplies — this is not so. The a.c. values in the presence of d.c. arc always smaller than when cither one only is present. Again, just as iron exhibits mag- netostriction, so this material ex- hibits a strong piezo electric effect. What this means is that if a voltage is applied to the material, it changes its dimensions. Conversely, pull or squeeze the material, and a voltage will appear across it. Just how large this effect is is not known ex- actly because of the difficulty in prcparii^ a large enough specimen of a single crystal. That the effect must be large is shown by the fact that polycry.stalline form, which by rights should not show it, will sing vigorously when an audio- frequency voltage is applied across it. Even the linear expansion of this material is peculiar. There are certain temperature ranges where it liehaves qiiitc normally, expanding as the temperature is increased. These, however, arc separated by other ranges, where the material remains very constant in length ! The specific heat likewise ex- hibits peculiar breaks. But the effect that has the crystaller cent, btif this is" considered pretty terrific by those who work with such things. From the standpoint of the phy- sicist. the most interesting feature of this material is the way the dielectric constant behaves witli NEW DIBLRCTRICS temperature. A typical curve is shown in Figure 3. The behavior is certainly peculiar. Starting with a value of about K = 100 at — 269^0 — not shown on the curve — the curve sliows first a somewhat grad- ual rise, with at least three distinct regions where the behavior changes abruptly. In the vicinity of about ioo®C, the dielectric constant rises with great rapidity, until in a matter of 15® it reaches a value of about 6,500, and then decreases sharply again. Peculiarly enough, the di- electric loss reaches a minimum where the K is the highest. The minimum loss is about i per cent, which, while not low, is very much better than would be obtain^ from an electrolytic condenser. A fact of considerable practical importance is that by the addition of strontium titanate, the tempera- ture at which the peak occurs esm be shifted wherever we desire. For instance, in a 29 per cent strontium, 71 per cent barium mixture, the peak is brought down to 23®C or 73 °F, that is, room temperature. The curve is shown in Figure 4. It exhibits the astonishing K value of 11,600 at the peak.. Unfortu- nately, the loss is rather large at this pmnt, about 10 per cent. How- ever, for certain applications tjiis may not be serious. Since the loss drops rapidly with a slight increase in temperature — being only i per cent at 35®C, while the K has dropped to only 6,500 — this si^- gests tliat a little more strontium should be added, thus shifting the peak down by 12® and bringing the low loss point to room temperature. •i

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The peculiar business about all by no means well understo€>d and this is that strontium titanate is a even, what is known requires a we4i behaved material, with a quite rather advanced knowledge of mod- modest dielectric constant as shown ern theoretical physics. In simplest in Figure 5. Its change with tern- terms, the matter may be put this perature is quite gradual, and it way. maintains a substantially constant Consider a unit condenser with value of K even up to 100 mega- plates i sq. cm. in area and separated -no -40 40 HQ 200 TEMPERATURE °C FI6.4 DIELECTRIC CONSTANT AND LOSS FOR 7/> BoTiO,, 27^ StTO^ cycles. Yet its addition to its rather by i -cni. The space is assumed, to crazy cousin produces some pretty be occupied by a dielectric. The weird effects. • capacitance of this condenser will It is natural to ask why these then merely be the dielectric con- materials exhibit such high dielec- stant of the material. Now if a trie constants. The whole story is unit voltage is applied, it will be ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-PICTION L05S

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found that the metal plates have acquired a charge. The capacitance, or dielectric constant is simply the measure of how much charge col> Iccts on the plates. This charge is established in the following man- ner. When the voltage is put on, an electric field is established through- out the dielectric. If we picture an atom within the dielectric to con- sist of a positively charged nucleus surrounded by a negatively charged electron cloud,' the atom will be electrically neutral before the field is applied because the electrical center of the cl«:tron cloud coin- cides with that of the nucleus. The applied electric field will exert a force which tends to sepa- rate the cloud center and the nu- cleus. These centers may be visua- lized as being held together by an attraction akin to that of an ordi- nary spring which resists the force exerted by the applied field. The amount of separation multiplied by the electronic charge per atom is called the dipole strength. This quantity, figured over a unit vol- ume, will be proportional to the force created by the dectric field, the constant of proportionality be- ing known as the polarizability. Now the greater the polarizability, the greater will be the separation between the + and — charges of the atom, and hence it will depart farther and farther from the elec- trically neutral condition. By the ordinary laws of electrostatics, this internal unbalance will induce a corresponding charge -on the metal plates of the condenser. Thus it can be seen that the greater the polarizability, the greater will be the dielectric constant of the material. Acc<n*ding to a simplified version of the mathematical theory, the relation between polarizability A and dielectric constant K is given by the relaticm K = (2A + i)/(i - A). (3) It can be seen from this formula that for all dielectrics, A must be a number between zero and unity. The relation between K and A is iflustrated below. It will be seen that as A gets near unity the dielec- tric constant is very sensitive to small changes in polarizability, TABLE II A 0 .5' .9 .95 -99 -9997 K .1 4 28 58 298 10,000 Now the problem is, what causes the modest increase in A for barium titanate that results in its stupen- dous dielectric constant. Weil, so far we have talked of the -shifting of the electron cloud. In a crystal- line material there is a second effect in that the atoms in the lattice are ionized. Thus we have in addition to the dipoles formed by each a^pm another group of dipoles formed by the positive and negative ions in the crystal lattice. In barium titamte these contribute an addi- tional 50 per cent or so to the al- ready respectable electronic polariz- ability. ■ The contributions of the ions thus bring the value of A very close to unity. NEW DIELECTRICS

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Kow it may be objected that there arc plenty of crystalline materials with quite ordinary values of dielec- tric constant This is true. All that can be said is tliat for this pjirticwlar material the effect is enough greater to show up as an enormous increase in K. liy way of explanation, it is stated that in this material the separation be- tween the oxygen and titanium .atoms is slightly greater than the sum of their individual radii. In most crystalline siibsbinces it is slightly less, llius it is said that the titanium atom can *'rattlc*’ with- in it.s inclosing octabcflron of six t,).xygen atoms whicli accounts for the increase in ionic polarization. •This means that when an electric field is applietl, the ionic dipole can stretch more cisily tlian in otlier materials. The explanation of why this ma- terial is voltage .sensitive follows the line usually given, for magnetic materials, d'hese are assumetl to l>e mi^de up of small lilocks alxmt i/lOO millimeter on a side, which are fully magnetized even wlicn no e.xtemal fiekl is applietl. Because of the fact that these blocks or domains arc oriented at random, the net magnetization in the alise.icc of an external jieltl is zero. As a field is ap^j'Hetl and incrcasetl. the domains gradually line up with the direction of tiie applied, field. In a ferro-electric material, tlie existence of these .small regions has also been demonslratetl. W’iiliiti each region, the fHjndc:' arc assiimeti to -be 'spornriretmsly j olarizcd and brienred in ilie same direction, byt u again, because of the aiiulom direc- tions of the domains, no net polari- zation is observable until a voltage is applied. Then as the voltage is increased, tlicse domains start to align themselves in a common di- rcc,lio!i. When they arc all lineulatc the structure of mat- ter grows, it nuiy \v*:ll be tluit in the not to(» distant future we >rill be abl ■ l:o make the titanium or some otlKT atom “rattle” just a little more. Wc will then have solved the problem of storage electrical energy. At this i>oint, it is natuml to im|ttire how far wc totlay from the solution. Suppose we assume llnit for home use, a loo kilowatt- iiimr package represents a reason- able requirement. This should last an average househrjld from two to four weeks. A juggling of the two formulas already given show.s tliat the volume of the packi^c varies directly with the energy' to be stored and inversely with the dielectric constant. Ilowevcr, it also varies inversely with the square of the maximum safe workir^ volt- age. that we can put across the ASTOrSniNG SCIKNCK-FICTTOX

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material. For. ;t>arium titanate this is rather low, being only 100,000 volts per inch.- Thus, despite the large K, it turns out that to hold the above amount of energy the condenser would need to be 20,000 cubic feet - in volume, or the size of a six room house! If the break- down voltage could be increased to that of paper— 2,000,000 volts per inch — the size would come down to 50 cubic feet. 'I'his then means that a charged condenser slowly loses its energy because the dielectric is not a perfect in.sulator. Unfortu- nately, barium titanate is a rather poor insulator. It turns out that a condenser made from this material would lose 1 per cent of its energy in the incredibly short time of 4/ioths of a second! But suppose that the dielectric constant were increased by the factor of 50 re- ferred to above. The time w'ould TEMPERATURE °C FI6.5 DIELECTRIC CONSTANT AND LOSS OF SrTiOs wc would still need a 50-fold in- crease* in the dielectric constant ]>efore the size of the package would be right. There is, however,* another very serious problem to be solved before packaged electricity is practical. This is ihe matter of energy leak- age. It is a well known fact that NEW DlBLECTUirS then increase to 20 seconds. If now our material could only be endowed with the insulating quali- ties of hard rubber; — 10,000,000 times as good as barium titanate-=- the time required to lose the i per cent would become 6 years ! To sum up, it would seem that before energy packaging becomes 85

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practical, we must acquire a material with a dielectric constant 50 times greater than tliat of barium titanate, with the breakdown strength of paper and the insulation resistance of hard rubber! This seems like a lot to for. But remember, the research is still in its infancy. Would you bet that it won’t be done? References : (1) Von Hippel ct al. “Hi|^ Dielectric Constant Ceramics.” Industrial and Engineering Chem- istry, Vol. 38, No. 11, 1946 Pp. 1097-fl09. (2) B. Wul. "High Dielec- tric Constant Materials.” Jour. Phys. V.SS.R., Vol. X, No. 2. 1946. THE END THE ANALYTICAL LABORATORY The results on the May issue follow below. It’s been some time since I explained how these .scores are figured, so for those who have missed it, the method of scoring is as follows. Say a letter or card votes Story A for first place, X for second, M for third, and R for fourth. That gives A 1 point, X gets 2, M 3, and so on. Another reader may rate them A-2, X-4, M-1 and R-3. The total number of vote-points each story receives from alt letters is added, and divided by the number of votes, giving the average point score. Since a reasonably accurate statistical sanTpIing of our “universe” of ' readers would requii^e about one thousand letters, which we don’t ordinarily get, the point scores are actually meaningful only to two digits. Thajt usually determines order of preference, at any rate. But here are the May scores; Place Story Author Points 1. ' And Searching Mind (End) Jack Williamson 1.85 2. The Rull A. E. van Vogt 2.25 3. The Strange Case of John Kingman Murray Leinster 3.10 4. The Mechanical Answer John I>. MacDoiuild 3.60 5. The Obsolete Weapon L. Ron Hubbard 3.90 Thl' Editor. ASTOUNDING SCIENOK-PICTION

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BOOK REVIEW 'The Reach of the Mind,” !)y J. B. Rhine. (William Sloane Asso- ciates, New York.) Price $3.50. Reviewed by Jack Williamson “What are we?” Dr. Rhine in- quires. “No one knows,” he replies. This exciting book, however, tells of a bold effort, launched by Dr. Rhine himself, to ask that tremen- dous question of nature herself, through the scientific method. The arresting, if incomplete, an- swer from the laboratories of para- psychology at Duke University is confirmed by other workers at other centers of learning. Man is more than a meat machine. “The Reach of the Mind” is a broad survey of recent discoveries which promise a revolution in . sci- ence and philosophy quite as devas- tating as the equally uncomfortable theories of relativity and the quan- tum touched off soon after 1900. Dr. Rhine sketches the back- ground for his now-famous inves-. tigations, which began in 1930. He describes the methods used to snare the most elusive capacities of the mind for laboratory study, the criti- cism which greeted publication ol his first results in 1934, and the slowly, widening acceptance of para- psychology as the critics were answered. These experiments have estab- lished two nonphysical capacities of the mind-— ESP or extrasensory perception, and PK or psycho- kinesis. The two are shown to be so nearly related, logically and ex- perimentally,. tliat they must be really one. This ability of the mind to transcend space and time beyond the reach of the ordinary senses, to perceive matter and to act upon it without the intervention of any physical medium, has been desig- nated by the Greek letter psi. Two phases of the research aroused criticism. The experiments themselves, commonly made with dice or the simple deck of “ESP cards,” are not spectacular. The mathematical analysis of the resuUs BOOK REVIEW $7

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can find a significant meaning in an apparently small deviation from random chance. But the critics have been silenced. **On the experimental side/' says a press release authorized in 1937 by the American Institute of Mathe- matical Statistics, “matlieniaticians, of course, have nothing to say. On the statistical side, however; recent mathematical work has established the fact that . . . the statistical an- alysis is essentically valid,” A vividly convincing aspect of the evidence is the decline in scoring rate during every typical experi- ment. Something ntakes a subject do his best on the fir.«5t trials after each pause or cliangc in routine. No few in the methods could well account for that. But if the psi effect belongs to the highest level of mental activity, as Dr. Rhine believes, that decline seems a natural result of fatigue and monotony. Altogether, the evidence for a nonphysical phase of mental activity is convincing. It demands attri- tion, as unjently as Max I'Janck’s equally disturbing notion pf the quantum did in 1900. For it is nothing freakish or abnormal. Dr. Rhine has revealed a generally un- suspected fact about all men. Psychokinesis must involve a natural force not known before. . Its observed effect upon the fall of di<;« may seem as feeble as tlie feshes of disintegrating radium atoms in the spinthariscope. Under conscious control, however, the psi capacity would surely be mightier than nuclear fission. • The superiority of the psi pro- cess to space and time su^ests some sort of survival after death. Dr. Rhine mentions the possibility of a psychical continuum, beyond the narrow domain of physics, which might have “a transcendent unique- ness . . . that some might call divinity.” b'or all the challenging impor- tance of such ideas, Dr. Rhine re- mains sober, fair, and calm. He seems not merely to be looking for proof of any wishful preconcepti<Mi, but rather earnestly seeking scien- tific truth and ready to abide by his findings. He concludes with • a plea for further research, to establish the far-rcaching science of the mind he envisions. Today, as he says, wc know the atom better tlian the mind — and atomic knowledge has cre- ated a desperate need for the higher ethical power and the new social feeling he expects from parapsy- chology. ”. . , And Searching Mind” was written before I had read this book, but much of the background is based on the re.scarches of Dr. Rhine and his associates. The para- physiail attributes of mankind are the final answer to the overgrown physical science of the humanoids — and Drv Rhine hopes for a “nuclear psychology,” which might likewise rescue niankin<l from the devastat- ing aftermath of nuclear physics. The crisis is here. Human power mu.st rule atomic power — or perish from this planet. The parapsycho- Ipgical research .♦ which Dr. Rhine requests might decide the remotest future of mankind. AI^TOtTNDlNG SCIRNOE-FICTIOK

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DREADFUL SANCTUARY BY ERIC FRANK RUSSELL ConHuding the story of men who did not want the stars— ^and. the proof that a belief need not be true to be real — and deadly. Illustrated by Tlminins Part JII After seventeen successive Moon- rocket disasters, John J. Armstrong, New York gadgeteer, has uncovered an international organization re- sponsible for sabotaging the vessels. He. has been aided in: his investiga- tion by Bill Norton, of the HeraJd; Hansen, a private inquiry agent and kis secretary Miriam; also by Eddie Drake,, technician employed bn the ill-fated rocket number nine; George Quinn, pUot-to-be of the incom- pleted rocket number eighteen; and Claire Mandk, physicist sister of the mysteriously killed Professor Robert Mandle, a rocket specialist. DRSADPUL &\NCT.ITAKY

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The mternaiioml saboteurs mas- querade under the name of the Norman Club. Politically and finan- cially pozverfiil, they regard them- selves as bell-wethers of the world’s stupid docks and believe themselves chosen for this function by the bard facts of history. Armstrong dis- covers that Hvo of its local notabili- ties are Senators Lindle and JVorn- ersley. While trapped by the Norman Club, he is told by Lindle that the world is populated mostly by de- scendants of intellect uallv defective outcasts of other planets, the black races being deported Mcrcurians, the brown races J'enusians, and the zvhifc rdees Martians. Only the yeilozv races, he asserts, are native Terrestrials. This ancient act of tri-racial purification tw.r perhaps the most siiipe^tdous purge in the history of sentient life and has made Terra a dreadful sanctuary for the Solar family's mentally deficient. On the other planets, it has been of immense benefit to tke'purged races, making them almost godlike. Lindle claims that even among Earth’s maniacs sanitv remains a dominant strain so that eventually the 'zvorld must grozv sane even though the process be slozv, tortu- ous and long. He dizides Earth’s population into a huge majority of humoral beings called Hu-mans, and a tiny minority of normal ones called Nor-mans. Most people, he maintains, are still insane to vary- ing degree, but oil members of the international Nornian Club are com- pletely sane and can be proved as such by employing a Martian-de- signed apparatus kliozvn as the psy- chotron. He asserts that the few sane ones of Earth owe loyalty to none but their equally sane forefathers on other planets, and that therefore it is their hoiinden duty to prevent rockets reaching the Moon and thus opening the cosmos to congenital imbeciles. After forcibly subjecting Armstrong to the analysis of the psyehotron, he pronounces him sane and imntes him to join the Norman Club. Armstrong M^as been hunted by members of an unknozvn gang led by a sandy-haired man armed with a new zveapon in the form of a coag- ulator, and he learns from Lindle that these are much-feared Martian Hu-mans, or deportees of recent date. They know little of the Nor- mans, but are auA-ious to get back to Mars and thus favor rocket- progress. Although Armstrong is equally in favor, he has fallen foul of them repeatedly, and some have been killed. After listening to Lijh die’s proposition, Armstrong asks time to think it oz'cr. is set free, and promptly rejects it as contrarx to his ozvn inclinations. Alarmed by the zvorhi's accelerat- ing psychic trend zvhich favors in- creased rocket-building despite dis- asters. the Nonnail Club seeks to divert it by stirring up a third world zoar. Realizing that prezious wars have stimulated scientific progress, they aim to postpone rocket-ven- tures indefinitely by prolonging the zoar until the world is in ruins and they alone hold the remnants of for- mer science, ASTOUNDING S C IITN CE - I'l C TIO N

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Armstrong find, his helpers, now driven underground, wanted by the police and the. hunted by Martian Hu-mans and sought for by the Norman Club, decide that at- tach is the only defense. Armstrong goes to IVashington and gains an interview with General Gregory, an influential opponent of the sabo- teurs, tells him all that he has learned. He indicts Senators Lindle and Womersley and the entire Nor- man Club organisation, leat'ing it to Gregory to take whatci^cr action lies within his power. Immediately . afterward, Ar>n- strong reads g report to the effect that Claire Mdhdle has disappeared ■and that George Quinn is being hunted for the murder of Ambrose Fothergill, director of the rocket- plant in New Mexico. This is a mortal blozv to his plans — unless he moves quickly and hits hard. Sht- glehanded, he decides to strike at once at the very root of the opposi- tion. XII. The address shown in the tele- phone directory proved to be that of a colonial mansion standing within high-walled grounds. A barbed and electrified wire fence ran along the top of this wall. There was a small, solidly built lodge at front, another at back, and each flanked a pair of enormou^ steel gates behind which lounged some decidedly hard-looking eggs. Other equally tough mugs could be seen patrolling the grounds beyond the gates. The whole set-up suggested that Senator Womersley rated as a person of considerable imporUnce. It was obvious to Armstrong that he must discard his vague notions of busting into the -dump by means of any handy door or window. Nor was there a chance of anyone bull- ing his way in without getting lead in the liver for his pains. This was a situation requiring guile. “Softly, softly, catchee monkey!” .he quoted to himself as he ap- proached the front gates. The guards alerted when tliey saw him nearing. He put on his face an expression which felt stupid but was intended to .be ingratiating. One of the guards responded by spitting contemptuously at a fly on the lodge wall. Holding his card through the thick bars of the gate, Armstrong spoke as agreeably as possible. “Would you mind inquiring \yhethcr Senator Womersley is willing to see me ?” Taking the pasteboard, one of the guards glanc^ at it, demanded, “You got an appointment?” “No.” ■ “What d’you want to see him about ?” “A matter referred to me by Sen- ator Lindle.” “O-K.” He turned toward the lodge. “You wait there." The wait lasted half an hour dur- ing which he stamped impatiently around and wondered how many wires were humming with questions about him. Eventually the guard came back, surlily unlocked the gate. “He’ll see you now.” Going through, Armstrong fol- DREADFUr. SANCTUARY 91

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lowed the ollicr to the house. The gates clanged behind them; it was an ominous sound, the sort of me- tallic clamor which heralds the be- ginning of twenty years in Sing Sing. Another patrolling guard crossed their path; he was being dragged at the end of an anchor- chain by a dog half the size of a- horse. Gaining the building, they waltetf another live minutes in a gloomy, oak-paneled hall from one wall of which the dusty, motli-eaten head of a moose stared lugubriously down at them. There were four giiards stationed in this hall and all looked as if they’d bteen affected by long association with the moose. Finally he was shown into a lounge where Womersley posed by the French windows. The senator turned to examine his caller, reveal- ing himself as a portly and some- what pompous personage with ruddy cheeks and long white hair of the kind politely called distinguished. “So youTe Mr. Armstrong?” he enunciated, pontifically. Taking a high-backed chair, he seated him- self carefully and importantly, as if about to declare this meeting open. “What can I do for you ?” Tapping his teeth with a silver i>en- cil, he regarded his visitor with a faint air of patronage. “Not so long ago our mutual friend Randolph Lindle treated me to a taste of the psychotroii.” He eyed Womersley sliarply, “Doubt- lessly you know alx)ut that?” Womersley smiled slowly and went on tapping his teeth. He said: “Please proceed/' “You refuse to say?” He shrugged his shoulders. ‘‘Oh, well, I guess it doesn’t matter. I assume that you do know of it.” “i am interested only in facts,” Womersley observed. “Your as- sumptions fail to divert me.” “Facts interest me likewise^ — cs- l>ecially the fact that you and Liu- dle ai)pcar to be the leading lights of the Norman Club in this coun- try.” Still playing with the silver pen- cil, Womersley smiled again, made no reply. “The Norman Club viewed me a.s a natural,” Armstrong went on. “Having given me the work.s, the}' assured me that I’d come back to them, voluntarily, of my own ac- cord. I’m sane, you see? I'm bound eventually to think as they think- because great minds think alike.” He paused reflectively. “At that time I disagreed with them mo.st emphatically, andT felt certain that I’d never see things their way, not if I lived another million years. Put I was wrong.” “Ah !” Womer.sley rammed the pencil into his pocket, clasped his hands together, put on an I-told- you-so expression. “They were right and I was wrong.” He faced the senator squarely, his manner deceptively frank. “It’s not so much that I’ve had time to think as the fact that events have compelled me to think. Sandy-hair’s gang has given me plenty of food for thought.”. “Sandy-havr’s?” Womersley was mystified. “I’m being hunted by a crazy ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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crowd who claim to be Martians lately deported ffom Mars/’ “Hu-mans,” ‘defined Womersley. He made a clicking noise with his tongue. “What they lack in nitm- ])ers they make up for in capabili- ties. This place of mine is wdl guarded because you’re not the only one they’d like to get at.” “Anyway, they convinced me where Lindle failed. So I’ve come back.” In silence, .Womersley studied him for a while. Then he turned round in his chair, flipped a little lever set in the wall. For the first time, Armstrong noticed that there was a diamond pattern of small per- forations in the wall beneath the lever and a small lens .above it. “Well?” said Womersley to the wall. 'Tt’s him allj. fight,” assured a tinny voice froth the perforated dia- mond. “Thanks!” Reversing the lever, the senator turned back and faced his visitor. “New York identification?” Arm- strong suggested. “Certainly I” He contemplated the ceiling while he continued speak- ing. “The psychotron identifies sanity. No more than that. It dqes not classify opinions. Even the sane may hold differing opinions about some things-rthpugh not those opinions peculiar to the insane. You realize that, of course?” “Yes, I do.” , “Therefore you will also realize that you can’t just jump aboard the l>and wagon the.' moment you con- sider yourself entitled to do so. A declaration of change of heart is not^ sufficient for us. It is far from suf- ficient.” “I liad guessed that in advance. You will want me to prove that my notions really are what they purport to be. I shall have to assassinate the President or do something equally desperate;” “You are not without perspi- cacity,” Womersley conc^ed. “T^t is to be e.Kpected considering that you are a Xor-man by nature. It now remains to be seen whether you are also one by inclination. We can find you a task the satisfacto^ per- formance of which — ” “You need not bother about con- cocting a test of my loyalty,” Arm- strong put in swiftly. “The second reason why I wished to see you is because 1 now have the proof ready and prepared.” Womersley’s ev'es glowed, and his voice lost its suavity. “What will be accqrtable will be tliat which cor- responds with our definition of l>roof — not yours 1” “Maybe. But in this instance the proof is something you’ll have to take up whether you like it or not. You can’t afford to let it go.. To let if pass would send even the psycho- tron daffy!” Standing up, his posture irefully important, Womersley snapped': “Be more explicit 1” “They’re building rocket eighteen in New Mexico. It’s cheese in the inou.setrap, as ,you most certainly know. It’s a decoy to draw certain parties away from - nineteen and DBBADFUL SAN-CTUART

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twenty which are being built else- where/' “So far, you have told me noth- ing." “ni tell you soiiiething now — all three of those rockets might as well be tossed on the scrap-heap/’ The senator's face was cold as he said: “Is that all?” “Not by a long shot !” He grinned his satisfaction. “You shouldn’t make assumptions yourself, you know I I didn’t mean that they’re ^ useless because the Norman Club is going to bust them when the time is ripe. On the contrary, they’re no better than scrap because they’re hopelessly outdated.” “Eh ?” \^ onvei slev breathed heav- ily. “What d'you mean by that?” “Somehow ... I don’t know how . . . one of those Martian nuts got himself deported along with plans' of a super-dooper scout job.” He watched with pleasure as the other’s florid complexion deepened and his eyes widened in -incredulity. “You can understand why he did it seeing that every one of them is itching to get back home. It's a seven- man-crew contraption, and it’s umpteen centuries ahead of any- thing we’ve got. He claims that it can be constructed in ten weeks, given the facilities. We can be on Mars — let alone the Moon — sooner than you think!” Womersley’s face was now a dull purple. His breath wheezed deeply. The fury boiling within him was amazing for one of his appearance. Controlling himself with an ef- fort, he rasped: “Where did you get all this?” “It was offered me for two rea- sons. Firstly, it was known that I’m violently in favor of going places as fast as possible. Secondly, it was believed that I might be able to pull enough strings to get the facilities necessary for building the ship. If can’t, or won’t, the escapee takes his plans ^o Britain, France, Russia or anywhere else where he can get co-operation.” “Co on.” Womersley ordered, grimly. “This guy has reneged on his gang — Sandy-hair’s gang. Or maybe odd deportees have failed to contact other, better organized ones. He's looking after himself, see? He wants help to build a scout job. lie's got the plans — and he’s got a price for them.” " “What is it?” “A firm/ guarantee that he’ll Ije taken to Mars, will be released im- mediately on arrival, and that no mention will be made of him to the Martians.” He made an explana- tory gesture. “The boy is home- sick.” “Where are the plans now?” “He's sticking to them.” Gazing at him steadily and delib- erately, eye to eye, Womersley harshed, “All this could be true. Yes, it could be — knowing what I do know. What I’m far from sat- isfied about is W'hy vou opposed us so long before you come to us run- ning.” ■“I dismissed the Norman Club because I couldn’t believe all this Martian-origin stuff. It was con- 84 ASTOUNDING SCIBNCE-PICTION

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trary to everything I’d learned, everything I knew.” He stood up, shoved his hands into his pockets. “But now I’ve learned a lot more. I’ve been sniped at and I’m still be- ing gunned for, so that for me the whole affair is no longer a matter of truth or untruth, but rather of life or death.” “Yes, but—” ' “The snag I'm up against now is that of convincing this fellow hold- ing the plans that Tve got political connections powerful enough to get ills rocket built in double-quick time. If I don’t convince him, off go the plans heaven knows where — and somebody’s sure to use them. So this is where you come in,” “Me?” “Yes. He knows of you as a considerable political influence in Washington. He doesn’t know about the Norman Club, much less your connection with it. Being a Hu-man^ he’d be mighty leery of Nor-mans, anyway. Having taken a chance on me, he’ll take one on any big enough political figure standing behind me. You’ve got to tell him you can find a million dol- lars to splurge on his rocket. You’ve got to persuade him to hand over those plans.” A conflict of emotions twisted the senator’s plump features. Appre- hension, suspicion, desire — all were there. He paraded several times up and down the room before speaking. “Where and in* what circum- stances cjin you make contact with this individual ?” “He’s going to phone my New DKBADFUL 8AVC!TUAav York apartment before twelve to- morrow,” "Your apartmient is burned • down.” Ohj so you know that! thought Armstrong. Glibly, he said: “I’ve got another, of course. D’you think I’d sleep in the fields ?” “What if he has phoned already, while you are here?” “He’ll get no reply and will call again later. But wjien he does, you had better be there too \ Or Lindle. I don’t care which of you it may be, ^o long as it’s one or the other. To bring this fish in needs better bait on the hook than I can provide.” “Armstrong,” pronounced Wom- ersley, with sudden decision, “I’m enough of a political picture to be framed. In fact, some have tried it — to their everlasting regret 1” He stuck out his chest as if he’d have, beaten it if only he’d been adorned in a tiger-skin. “So take warning — any funny business will be liable to boomerang on you ! I’m going to come in with you on this plan-ques- tion, not because I fully believe you, but solely because it could be trae and, if it is, it’s far too momentous to ignore. We just can’t afford to ignore it!” “That’s what I thought.” “And that’s what I know you’ve been thinking !” Womersley re- torted. “Therefore, I’m coming in my way, and not yours! If this story proves to be an elaborate gag” — he paused, his face hard — “it will be your last such one on this world or any other !” “And if it’s not a ^g, if it proves fls

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genuine, the Norman Club takes me to its collective bosom ?” “Yes ” Ringing a deskbell, Wom- ersley spoke to the guard who re- sponded. “Have Mercer get the car ready. Tell Jackson, Hardacre and Wills that they’re coming with me to New York pronto.” He waited until the other had gone, then said to Armstrong, “lliose four will accompany us. They’re so touchy they start shooting if someone grits his teeth. Hear that in mind !” “X won’t forget,” Armstrong promise. , . He resumed his seat while Wom- ersley made ready for departure. His broad, heavy face held a hungry look. As a crocodile, he’d put* over a good imitation of a Ic^I They piled into a big, silver-gray Cadillac with Mercer behind the wheel and Jackson sitting by his side. ^Armstrong’s large - pants pressed the middle of the back scat where . he was jammed between Woniersley and Wills. The folding occasional scat facing the rear three was taken by Hard^re, a craggy personage who obviously regarded his position as strategical and viewed the pas- senger as a prisoner. He favored the latter with a belligerent stare. Armstrong stared back at him, sniffed a couple of times, then sneezed. Pulling away from the fortress- like estate, the powerful machine swooped northward. Armstrong sniffed at frequent intervals, sneezed a couple more times. Pressed closely against hiui, AVomersley fidgeted with distaste but made no remark. Hardacre eyed him as if the free distribution of germs were a hostile act. “Got plenty wet in that storm,” Armstrong mourned to nobody hi I>articular. “I’ll be dead with pneu- monia before we get there . . . A-a-arshooT He jerked with the violence of his sneeze, leaned hard on Wills, struggled to extract a handkerchief from his right-hand pocket. Plardacre’s eyes glittered as he waited for the handkerchief to ap- Ijcar. He seemed to be expecting the sufferer to produce an^fthing from a rattlesnake to a field howit- zer. Emitting an irritate<l grunt, Womerslcy edged away, giving the heaving Armstrong room to get at the pocket. Drawing out the handkerchief with a triumphant flourish, Arm- strong wrapped it around his nose and bugled vigorously. At the same moment, a tiny metab cylinder slid up his right nostril. Holding the handkerchief on his lap, he blinked owlishly at Hardacre. After another ten miles, he re- sumed his sniffing, doing it through ihc nostril yet unblocked. Then lie coughed, gobbled like a turkeycook and hurriedly employed the handker- chief to choke another sneeze. The second cylinder slid ffp the other nostrik Hardacre’s gaze remained fixed upon him. He gasped a cou- ]4e of times, coughed again, leaned on Womerslcy. while he fought to get at his left-hand pocket. Hardacre snapped at Wills: ‘T ASTOUNDIKG SCIKNCK-PICTIOX

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don’t like this song and dance. See what he’s diving for now.” Raising himself clumsily in the swaying car, Wills forced a hairy hand into the pocket, dragged out another handkerchief and a bunch of keys. Ilardacre registered acute disappointmeiit.- Hoarsely murmuring, “Tlianks!” Armstrong mopped his nose with the second haiidkerchief, jingled the keys, smiled broadly at hTard- acre. That worthy scowled, turned his gaze away for. the first time, and stared out of the;, window. . ^Armstrong .sighed, began to sctatch.his knees. He did it absent- mindedly, sniffing, and wheezing at intervals, while the others continued pointedly to ignore him. His fingers scratched and tapped and played nervously until finally he got the phial loose, from, its knee-*strap and felt it slide down the leg of his pants. . The slender glass tube fell silently onto the. carpeted floor and none heard the sound of it as it .splintered under his heel. •The Cad ruslied onward and cov- ered eight more miles in nine min- utes before things began to happen. ■Womersley, who had slowly slumped in his seat, suddenly made loud bub- bling noises through pur^d lips. At the opposite end of. the seat, Wills lolled against Armstrong and swayed heljilessly with the motion of the car. ‘ With a shari> preliminary swerve, the big machine, commenced to wan- der at high speed, all over the road. With vague alarm battling the urge lo slumber, Hardacre fought to awake and make action. His hands I)RE-M>PUL S-ANOTITARV moved slothfully and uncertainly as they sought for his gun. Lifting a columnar leg, Arm- strong put .his big foot on Hard- acre’s stomach and shoved. The breath whooshed out of the other. He fell forward, sobbed for air on the carpet. Fumes rising from the crystals on the floor filled his lungs, Leaning over him, Armstrong snatched the nodding Mercer bodily from under the wheel, tossed him onto Womersley’s lap. The Cadil- lac yawed, headed toward a bank. Bending further, forward, he grabbed the wheel, straightened the onnishing machine. He held'it thus a moment, knowing that with no foot on the accelerator its automatic gears had slipped into neutral. It slowed. In the seat beside that lately warmed by Mercer, the semi- dnigged Jackson pawed at him feebly. ; Still holding the wheel with his left hand, he slugged Jack- son behind the ear with flis right. Reluctantly the Cad drift^ to a stop. Putting on the handbrake, he got out, elefeed the door behind him, sat on the bank and enjoyed a cigar- ette while the supine passengers continued- to stew in the fumes. Once Wills tolled his head lacka- daisically ; once Womersley made a feeble gesture in his sleep, but after five more minutes they reseinbled a load of corpses. With the little filters out of his nose and back in his handkerchief, Armstrong opened all the doors, let the wind dear the car. He swept out a few undissolved crystals. Keeping a careful watch on the n

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road lest he be subjected to the un- welcome attentions of other motor- ists, he lifted out all but Womersley, bore them swiftl\- one by one up the bank, parked them side by side where they VI be out of sight from the highway. As an afterthought, he picked a convenient weed, placed it in Hardacre's hand. Returning to the car, he rolled \\ omersI#y onto the floor, closed and Jot'ked the rear .doors, got into the front scat and tlrove onward at top speech His mad pace would have inter- ested the police had he not .‘slowed down twice in precisely the right places. He nished the Cad as if every secoml were costing him a thousand dollars. 'J'hrce times he stopped ; once for gas, once to send a wire postponing his appointment with the general, and once to quiet his slowly reviving passenger. All tliese pauses meant trouble. He had to shoo off a nosey gas-statiou at- tendant. He had to tell a talc of drunkenness to a passer-by ncir the post office. As for the last, Womcr- sley's dim awakening indicated that the tricked guards likewise would be recovering and that the hue and cry would begin as soon as they could start it. Womersley settled down under a second dose of dope. He gave the senator a long shhun every- thing then." Holding the sagging Womersley witli dilficulu- and without enthu- siasm, Drake said: “I hope this is on the ni) and up?" “Don’t worry, Ed, Put him out of sight until I return, be. all right. You know mo." "Yeah. I know you- -that's what Vs got me worried," IVrake widk«l backward through the door; drag- ging the senator with him. The • Cadillac started up. and Armstrong whirled it aw:i}'. Ho took the bottom corner on two wheels. Behind him, Kd Drake j>ccre<l sourly from the door until the fast moving car was out of sight. Then he slmiggcd, closed the door, lugged his unconscious vi.s- itnr upstairs. It was. four hours and tweiitv minutes later when Armstrong re- appeared. Heavy-footed and tired. 08 ASTOUNDING SCIKNCK-FTCTTON

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he lumbered in, dumped a big black looked at the clock again. "I could box on the floor, glanced at the have been back an hour ago if it clock which showed the hour of hadn’t been necessary to‘ dump his midnight. car in New York where they’ll be "Has that body become animated sure to find it. I had to skip from yet?” one taxi to another to return.” "No,” said Drake. “He’s sleep- "You dixmped his car?” Ed ing like he’d been drugged.” Drake’s voice went up in pitch. “Which he has.” “D’you mean it was hot? Have you “Eh?” Drake let his mouth dan- kidnaped this guy? What the heck’s gle. “Who drugged him?” going on around here ?” “Me.” He smiled at the other’s “Take it easy, Ed. The gentle- expression. “I had to do it to get man is Senator Womersley, and him all to myself.” He sighed, he’s paying us an im'oluntary visit.” DREADFUL SANCTUAEX AST— 4X »»

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Drake jumped. *‘Womersley! I thought his fat face looked famil- iar !'* He ^avcd worried hands. “Hell’s bells, John, they’ll give you life for this. What the deuce pos- sessed you to snatch a guy like him ? Why drag me into it?" “You’ll see.” His foot poked the heavy box he’d brought in. “That is one of the only ten electronic schizophrasers in existence. I had to borrow it at short notice, and after plenty of argument, from old Professor Shawbury, at Columbia. The original model is still in my lab at Hartford — but I can’t go there to collect it.” “Why not?” “Because, brother, I suspect that traps await me at every- one of my oldtime haunts. That’s one reason why I’ve had to come to you. I’ve seen you about four times in the last seven years, and this house of yours never was a regular calling- place of mine.” He studied the mystified Drake keenly. “The other reason is that after some thought' I’ve decided that I trust you — as far as anyone can be trusted these crazy times.” “That’s nice! That’s very nice! When I’m doing my twenty years in the cell next to yours, it’ll be good to remember that at least you trusted me.!” Armstrong said, harshly: “Ed, if I don’t get to the bottom of this, neither you nor I nor millions of others may live long enough to do twenty years any place.” He made an impatient gesture. “Where’s the body?” “Upstairs on the front bed.” Drake trailed after him moodily, helped him carry the senator down. He made.no attempt to conceal his doubt, and apprehension as he watched the other tic the victim in a chair. Moving with businesslike effici- ency, Armstrong opened the box, pulled from it a compact piece of apparatus resembling a portable short-wave therapy set. It had a tiny silver-tube antenna and a simi- lar half-wave reflector set on either side of a plastic cup at the end of four yards of coaxial cable. Putting the cup on Womersley’s head, he adjusted the antenna and reflector with great care. Finally satisfied that the two tubes were located precisely where he wanted them with respect to the subject’s cranium, he strapped them in posi- tion, made sure that no movement of the slumbering senator’s head could dislodge them by a fraction. Next, he connected the apparatus to a power-plug set in the wall, dis- connected the coaxial cable, switched on, checked operation. Reconnect-, ing the antenna lead, he fiddled with matching transformers at both ends of it, then switched off. He flopped into a seat, glowered at the uncon- scious Womersley. “All we’ve got to do now is wait for this fat schemer to \rake up,” Drake found another cHhir, low- ered himself into it uneasily. “I wish you wouldn’t use so much ‘we’ stuff. This is all your play, not mine.” He surveyed the apparatus and chewed at his bottom lip, “What will that do to him?” “Nothing harmful. So far as I’m ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-FICTIOir

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concerned, it’s a sample of tit for tat. His crowd put me under a con- traption called a psychotron. I’m putting him under this dingbat which, in its own peculiar way, is more efficient.” “Well, what is it?” Drake per- sisted. “A microwave schizopliraser. A kind of transmitter. It sprays oscil- lations on the neural band. You know that tliouglits are electrical in nature, don’t you ?” Drake nodded. “This thing is no more than a simple jammer of thought-proc- esses. Its beauty is that it can be made to muddle-up only the rational- izing sector of the human brain, leaving the motor ganglions, the memory sector and other parts free to operate spontaneously.” “If I’m right,” suggested Drake, “that’ll fill the guy with involuntary reactions. It will make him a spas- nijc. Where’s the sense of that?” “It won’t make him a spasmic. It has no permanent effects. The gadget is nothing" more than some- thing ten times better than a lie^ detector. A person questioned while under its influence is mentally in- capable of refusing, concealing or distorting whatever information is lying latent in his memory sector. When asked, he cannot help but respond with what he knows to be the truth or sincerely believes to be the. truth. If he hasn’t.got the an- swer, he doesn’t reply — he can’t substitute a false or misleading item of infonnation.” He waved a re- assuring hand. “The worst that can happen to this political sped- DRBADPUL SANCTUARY men is'tliat for once in his life he may blurt out some awkward facts. Not so very terrible, is it?” “He’ll take off your hide for it, all the same. He’ll make you die the death of a thousand cuts first chance he gets.” Drake had another go at his bottom lip while he stared at the senator. His eyes grew round. “Look, he’s waking now !” Going across to the chair, Arm- strong slapped Womersley’s face gently but firmly. The senator snorted, mumbled, Iialf-opeiied his eyes, closed them, opened them again. Taking his hands, Armstrong rubbed them vigorously.- Womers- ley gulped, yawned, tried: to move within his bonds, looked slightly stupefied when he found himself tied down. Pulling his hands out of Armstrong’s grasp, he muttered peevishly : “Where . . . am I ? What’s hap- pening ?” Switching on the apparatus. Arm-, strong ; watched the politician’s florid features. Drake likewise studied them, his own expressing anxiety. Womersley put out a dry tongue, drew it in again, gaped around with optics wliich gradually grew dazed. He tried to lift his hands and failed, A few seconds later, his stare was as comprehending as that of a vil- lage idiot. In a loud, clear voice, Armstrong snapped at him : “Who killed Am- brose Fothergil! ?” Womersley was silent a moment, then croaked : “Muller.” “On whose orders?” 101

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Again the silence. Womersley seerried to be having a psychic battle within himself despite the jamming of his reasoning processes. Instinct was substituting here— the ancien^ law of self-presen ation. He blinked at his questioner as if he couldn’t see him. “Mine,” he said. “Mine . . . mine !” “Jerusalem !” breathed Drake, looking on. - Sternly, Armstrong continued : “Then why did George Quinn take it on the run? Was he framed? Did he realize that he’d been framed ?” M^omersley made no reply. Putting it in a different way, Armstrong demanded : “Did yon give any orders concerning Quinn ?” “Yes.” “What were they?” “He was to be taken , away.” “By whom? By Muller?” “By Muller, Healy and Jacques,” “This always is somewhat tedi- ous,” Armstrong obsert^ed to Drake, “because he’s conditioned to answer only the bare question and he wpn’t volunteer anything more. I’ll have to drag data out of him item by item.” Then, to Womersley; “Why did you order them to take Quinn away ?” “it did two jobs at one stroke.” “What were they?” “It made it look as if Quinn had lammed and therefore was guilty. And it got rid of him.” “Why did you want to get rid of Quinn?” “He was the official pilot.” "To what place has he been taken ?” Armstrong’s hard optics were fixed on the senator as he waited for the response. There was no response. “Don’t you know?” “No.” Taking a deep breath, he tried- it another way. “To whom has he been taken ?” “To Singleton.” “Who is Singleton ?” “The Norman Club director in Kansas City,” Womersley mur- mured. His head lolled forward, was brought up sluggishly. “Do you know where Singleton has hidden him?” “No.” “Do you know whether he is alive or dead ?” “No.” - “Why did ycai order Fothergill's death?” “He was one of us — a Nor-nian. He was sane. But he lacked courage. He let us down.” “So ?’’ Womersley said nothing. He ap- peared to be in a semislumber. Between his teeth, Armstrong gave forth: “Enough of that. We'll jump to the next subject.” In louder voice, he pressed : “Where is Claire Mandle ?” “I don’t know.” “Has the Norman Club any hand in her disappearance?” “I don’t know.” Suppres.'iing his surprise, he con- tinued: “If your New York mob had taken her, would you have been informed of it?” “Not necessarily.” ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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Frowning, he said to Drake: “We can learn something even from neg- ative responses. He doesn't know what Singleton has done with Quinn, nor what Lindle’s crowd in New York are up to. He’s a pretty fat frog in this Norman Club pud- dle but isn’t informed on everything concerning it. Therefore, big as he is, he’s not Mister Big! He’s high up — but someone else is higher !” “Ask him,” Drake suggested, with perfect logic. “Who is the leader of the Nor- man Club in the United States?” Womersley sagged in his chair, behaved as if deaf. “Some gadget,” Drake offered, sardonically. “It makes him con- fess all.” “It can’t make him tell what he doesn’t know,” Armstrong retorted. He questioned the victim in differ- ent terms. “Is there a national leader of the Norman Club in this country?” ■“No.” He favored Drake with an I-told- you-so glance before carrying on with: “Who’s the Norman Club boss in Washington?” “Me.” “And in New York?” “Lindle.” “And Singleton’s the boss in Kansas City ?” “Yes.” “Who is boss in Chicago?” “I don’t know.” “He doesn’t know,” Armstrong observed. “You see the significance of that? It’s the cell technique I The boss of each cell functions as con- tact man with two or three other cells, the rest remaining unknown to him. Nobody can betray more' than his immediate fellows and maybe' another cell or two— where- upon the remainder take revenge. Surviving cells avenge those gone under. The sane maintain discipline in the same manner as the insane, namely, by fear of reprisals.” He stamped up and down the room. “That means that elsewhere the Norman Clubs don’t all function openly as Norman Clubs, and that some are masquerading in other guises — yogi cults, or heaven knows what. I could do with an army, Ed, a veritable army 1 And it would have to be an international one at that!” “It sure looks like you’re trying to bite off more than you can chew.” “I am — but I’ve gone too far to withdraw even if I wished to. I’m like a python who’s locked his jaws on an antelope ten sizes too large for him — I’ve got to go on even if I bust!” He tramped backwards and forwards worriedly. “Suppos- ing that in some miraculous' manner I bumped this cynical old geezer and all his guards and all Ws Wash- • ington followers — what then? Lin- dle and his mob continue to func- tion. So do a hundred or more similar cells scattered over this country. So do a thousand or more distributed over the rest of the globe.” He screwed his right fist into his left palm. “It’s like trying to overthrow international Bud- dhism in one week. It can’t be done—- but it’s got to be done !” “I don’t see why.” Drake scowled at the -sagging senator, then -at the DRKADFUD SANCTUARY 198

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sdwzophraser, then at the clock. He ' suppressed a desire to yawn. “If you’re yearning for a fight, why don’t you get married?’’ “This isn’t funny, Ed. It’s as unfunny as the robot-rocket and the atom bomb. It’s as unfunny as bacteriological warfare, starvation, pestilence and the final collapse of civilization.’’ He paused, hot eyes on his listener who looked a little abashed. “If you don’t believe it, get a load of this!” Turning to the man in the chair, he said, sharply: “Womersley, are the international influences of the world’s Norman Clubs striving to bring about a major war?” “Yes.” The speaker’s voice was automatic, toneless, and his face was relaxed into near-dopiness. “Why?” *^e're at the last ditch.” “What d’you mean by that?” . “They’ll get . . . they’ll get their Moon rockets away.” He was mumbling haltingly now. “Maniacs . . . loose in the cosmos . . . Con- genital maniacs . . . snatching at the stars . . . unless we can start them . . . killllig . . . each other.” The senator ended with a low gasp and his head sank. Armstrong leaped forward, switched off the schizophraser. “Brain-strain,” he explained to the alarmed Drake. “He’s endured the jamming too long and his mind has found refuge in unconsciousness. He’ll get over it.” Taking the plas- tic cap from the victim’s head, he put the cap on the floor, propped the head with a cushion. “He's out of that drug, but the neural impulses 1&4 have pat him in>a haze again. He’ll need a little sleep to recover.” Dis- contentedly, he eyed his dead ap- paratus. “Darn it, I could get tea times as much out of him if only his mind would stand the strain.” “What’s all this gabble about the Norman Club, anyway?” Drake in- quired. Armstrong gave him the wh<^e story as swiftly and briefly as he could, and finished, “They have not got complete power in this country — yet ! We’re a democracy, which means they stand to gain power most anyfime, when circumstances favor them. Even now, as a strong, influential and ruthlc.ss minority they've enough pull to divert our destiny one way or the other. Gov- ernmental keyposts are held by their nominees, and departments have a quota of their members. Remem- ber, Ed, that these Norman fanatics can be Democrats, Republicans dr even Tibetan lamas; they can opei'- ate under any fancy tag which hap- pens to suit their purpose at any given moment — though, all the time, htndamentally, they are Nor-mans, the sifperiors of Hu-mans !” “Swami-stuff !” defined Drake, contemptuously. “That’s not strong enough to start world-wide wars.” “Don’t kid yourself*! We aren’t alone in this cockeyed-world. There are other nations, other peoples ani- mated by other ideas of destiny. In some of them these Nor-mans may have less influence than they have here — but are fighting to get it! In some, they may have more power. In a few, they may be in complete ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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command. And it needs only one country to start a war — not two or more. One country, determined to start a holocaust, can begin the bloodbath. Germany did it und^r Hitler — and he was as fantastic a visionary as this fat chump .or any of his Norman Qub buddies. Ger- many marched into hell and pulled half the world with her — all for the sake of a mighty obsession.” “But—” “Look, Ed, suppose that Ger- many's eighty million Nazis had been not a nation but an interna- tional cult. Suppose that they’d gained control of two or three coun- tries at least one of which had high military potential. Suppose that they were in near-control of most other countries and formed a gigan- tic and redoubtable Fifth Column in what part of, the world remained — d’you think they might have won their war?” “They’d still have lost it,” Drake declared without hesitation. “Maybe they would; but they’d have taken a heck of a lot longer to lose it and would have exacted a price infinitely heavier from the world as a whole. However, that’s not the point.” He tapped Drake’s arm to emphasize his words. “The point is that these Norman crack- pots cannot lose a war.” “They can’t — !” began Drake, ircfully. “Did Orientals lose the last war?” “A silly question. The last scrap was between the democracies and the totalitarians.” “With the Chinese on our side »»*ADrUL 6AKCTUART and the Japs on the other. There were Orientals on’ both sides — so, taking them as a whole, they couldn’t lose.” His voice slowed down, be- came more empliatic. “Get it into your head, Eddie, that these Nor- man cultists are as completely in- ternational as short-haired dogs — and have as few real loyalties. Their purpose is to start a war big enough to put an effective brake on what they choose to regard as an un- desirable form of progress. Which side nominally wins and which nom- inally loses matters not a hoot to them so long as the general wreck- age is enough for their purpose. Why should they care who stands torn and tattered on the field of battle and claims to be the winner — they’re on both sides !” “I think you credit them with more power than they’ve got. The world’s masses won’t rush into uni- form and die by the millions merely because an obscure gang of lunatics want them to do so.” “Won’t they?” Armstrong’s smile was lopsided and lugubrious. ”A11 you have to do is invent a devil with which to scare the millions, use every available channel of propa- ganda to convince them that said devil exists and that it’s an awful thing, and finally persuade them tliat a fate worse than death awaits them if they don’t fight it with all they’ve got.” He clicked his tongue sardonically. “Whereupon they fight like wildcats !” Drake was indignant. “Are j’ou suggesting that in the last war our boys fought and died for nothing?” “Not at all ! Quite the contrary ! 106

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Bat .for what .^as the other side fighting?** Drake went silent, thoughtful. *‘As I have said/* Armstrong persisted, “it needs only one coun- try to start it. The others then have to fight to stop it. And any devil will do to get some mob in murderous mood. The Germans fought frenziedly against the imagi- nary demon called Encirclement. For fifty yfears or more the Russkies have held themselves ready to battle a fiend called Capitalism. There was a time when Christians fought bloodily against a foe named Islam. If, after due preparation through the world’s propaganda-channels, tonight’s radio dramatically sum- moned everyone to prepare to de- f«id themselves against Technocrat invaders from Alpha Centauri, tiious^ds of credulous listeners would reach for their guns. Do you recair those people who wanted to exterminate each other over the question of whether a boiled egg should be cracked at the big end or the little?” “Shut up!” suggested Drake. “You turn my stomach. You talk like one of these Nor-mans — you’re saying that we’re all nuts !” “What if we are? Maybe these Norman cultists are correct ; maybe this world is a cosmic madhouse, a sort of dreadful sanctuary for the solar system’s idiots — but is that any reason why the inmates should sit and sulk in a comer? Maybe ninety per cent of we Terrestrials are just plain daffy, but what good will it do us to roam around our sss cell and mope about it? That*t where I and the Norman Qub part o)mpany. If the loonies can hurt qtit, I say good luck to them!** Ht pondered a few seconds, added: “Anyway, I’m not satisfied with a psy^otron's arbitrary definitions of sanity and insanity, neither am I convinced that Martians, Venusians and Mercurians — if they really exist — are paragons of virtue when com- pared with us.” “You're selling me. What now?** “You need to know all these things, Ed, because you’ve got to help me.’* “In what way?** “I must milk this white-haired old schemer of all he knows even if he collapses ten times during the process. I’ve got to make contact with some friends lying low in New York. 'I’ve got to discover what has happened to Claire Handle, and I’ve got to figure some way of getting George Quinn out of bad. And that’s not all, in fact it’s not half of it; I must find some way of getting the police and the F.B.I. off my neck. Finally, if it*i possible, I’ve got to pull a fast one on the international Norman Club before they pull a fast one on the w’orld!” “Three-quarters of which if totally impossible,” declared Drake, positively. “You might just as well give yourself up and let matters take their course.** “Not while I've feet in my socks!” He studied Womersley as that individual suddenly com- menced to snore. “He’s recovering all right. I want you to hang onto ASTOUNDIKa SCIBNCB-PICTIOV

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him for me, Ed ; liang onto him at aU costs for at least twenty-four hours. Don’t let him get away from you even if you have to bash out his brains!” “Are you going again?” “I’m beating it across the river for reinforcements. Have you got a car you can lend me?” “The Lincoln. It’s around the back.” Drake gloomed at his sleep- ing prisoner. “Oh, well — kismet ! Reckon I’d better frisk him in case he’s carrying something unpleasant.” “I searched him before we got here. He’s carrying nothing. If he wakes up and starts bawling about his authority, hammer on his noggin I” Hastening around the back, he found the Lincoln, took it away fast. It was three-forty in the morning by the clock on the dash- board, and the Moon was riding high as he pointed his bonnet to- ward the Hudson. “Three-tjuarters ... is impossible,” Drake had re- marked. As one of those con- cerned with an earlier, ill-fated rocket-shot, Drake tended to be pessimistic. There was another viewpoint, older, better established, namely, that nothing is impossible. Least of all a cosmic prison- break I XIV The choice lay between .two possible contact-points — Norton or. Miriam. If Hansen had not yet got in touch with Norton, and if the leery Miriam already had skipped, neither of these points would prove of any use. It was a DRKADFUL SANCTUAR’t waste of valuable time Trying to think up a third way of finding Hansen without first testing these ready-made alternatives. Miriam would be b,est for the first attempt, he decided. Parking the Lincoln near a phone booth, he tried the number which had got him through to lier on the previous occasion. There was a long wait while the automatic system main- tained its persistent buzs-huss at the other end of the line. He listened uneasily, his eyes constantly searching the empty street. Eventually there came a sharp click, the screen swirled, Miriam appeared in it. She looked dishevelled and liverish — there was no evidence of her afternoon gla- mour at this hour when dawn was breaking in the east. “ ’Lo, Splendiferous!” he hailed. “How’re your poor dogs?” “What d’you want?” she, de- manded, showing a mixture of ap- prehension and irritability. “And why can’t it wait ?” “Now, now! Be amiable! I wished only to see what you look like when you’ve crawled out of bed.” Automatically she primped her hair. Then she gave him a sour look and said : “Say what you want to sa}^ and beat it.” “I called to see if you were still there.” He glanced hurriedly through the windows of the booth, looking up and down the street. “I’ve got to make another call be- fore we can talk turkey, so Fll put it through and ring you again in 107

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h^f an hour's time. yod d(®'ttmnd?” **It would make a . lot of difference if I' did !” ' “I’ll call you back freon this same booth and ,will be as quick as I can.” He watched her fade out of the screen. Quickly he returned to the Lincoln, drove it farther up the street, parked it around a comer. He had the bonnet stickily; out just enough to enable him to keep watch on the distant booth. With the engine running, and his hands at the controls ready for a fast getaw'ay, he kept the booth under observation for half an hour, A few early workers appeared, passed him casually. Notliing more noteworthy had happened by the end of the appointed time. Giving up the watch, he drove the Lincoln uptown, found another booth, called Miriam from that. *‘I checked your line. Somebody m-ght have been sitting on it— in which case they’d have tried to pick me up forthwith. Evidenjly they’ve not traced you yet.” “Would I be here, if th^ had?” she inquired, scornfully. “Perhaps, my lovely ! They wouldn’t remove the bait from the trap, would they?” “Don’t you call me bait !” "Oh, all right.” He wagged his head wearily. ‘T shouldn have known better than to drag you from your dr^ms. Tell me where I can find a mutual friend and then you can return to your slumbers.” She bal^led an address in Flush- ing, added hurriedly: "That’s until It noon tomorrow. Afterward, he'll bfi. some plkce else.” “Thanks.” He took the Lincoln across the Triboro at a pace su£Bciently sedate to soothe the cops patrolling at both ends. They let him pass with no' more than an idle, disinterested glance. Once clear of the bridge he speeded into Long Isl^pd, soon found the tumbledown brownstone house which was Hansen’s momen- tary hiding-place. Hansen peered cautiously around the door. He was barefooted, and his suspenders dangle from his hastily pulled-on {^fs. “Did Miriam give you this ?” He closed the door quickly behind his visitor. “Yes. She was anything but sweet — but she gave.” “You were lucky. One more day and you’d have had to whistle for both of us. She’s moving tomor- row. Me, too.” He drafted the suspenders over his shoulders. “You’ve got bags like flour sacks under your eyes.” “I know it. I’ve been up all night.” “Bad habit. It buys you nothing.” He padded along the passage' and into a rear room. “Squat some- where while I get the rest of my clothes.” His bare feet trudged upstairs. In short time he came down with the remainder of his attire bundled careles^y under one arm. Proaeding with his . dress- ing, he asked: “What’s our next step toward .the scaffold?” ‘Til tell you shortly.” Arin- ASTOUNOTKO SCIENCE-FICTION

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strong’s voice was urgait."'‘Where’s Qaire Mahdle ?” “Darned if I can tell you. She dropped, her shadows and went some place fast.” “Dropped her shadows?” “Yep. The F.B.I. had her tagged ifice a jealous father. They’ve been doing it for weeks — you know that. She kissed them a fond farewell.” “How do you know this?” Hansen rammed a shoe on his foot, laced it expertly. “Because I helped her.” Waggling his eyebrows, Arm- strong rumbled: “You’re capable of speech without priming by me.” “I went to see her, and got a list off” her like you ordered. She said she could do a lot more to help you if only she could cross the road without trailing a string of bureaucrats behind her. She was -convinced that the F.B.I. were the boys following her around, but I wasn’t so sure. I lent her a couple .of my guys to accompany her into town' — just in case.” “And then?” . “She was smart. She got them ^ iii\y)lved with her trackers and faded out during the argument.” He expressed grudging admiration. “It was as slick a piece of work as any I’ve seen.” “The papers report that she’s di.sappeared, but imply that some- thing has happened to her.” “The papers!” Hansen made a gesture of derision. “When were the papers, the . recorders or the newscasts ever concerned un- diluted facts?” He stood up, stamped in his shoes, started putting on his jacket. “The reports didn’t mention that two of my men are being held for questioning?” “No.” “See?” Armstrong thought it over, then asked : “Did you make a pass at that stooge of Lindle’s?” “Carson ? No. I was going after him today.” “Forget him. He doesn’t matter now. Things are shaping up — and they’re getting mighty hot !” ' ^‘Getting hot!” Hansen echoed. “What the deuce d’you call it nowf” “Out with it — what’s your latest crime?” “I’m wanted lor snitching a senator.” Hansen paused and stood statue- like while about to knot his tie. Holding the tie straight out, with one tag twisted over the other, he gaped openly. “Say that again.” ‘Tm wanted for kidnaping as treacherous a senatorial slob as you’d meet in a month’s march,” said Armstrong. “Womerslcy.” "We have had murder, arson, espionage and wholesale sabotage,” remarked Hansen, looking prayer- fully at the ceiling. “Now he has to add kidnaping.” He knotted the tie. “Where have you hidden him ?” “At Eddie Drake’s, in Nem Jersey. I want you to get out there as fast as you can with all the men you’ve got available. How many have you got?” “Pete’s dead, and the F.B.I. is holding two — that leaves four regu- lars and five casuals. I can trust the regulars.” DREADPTITi SANCTUARY 109

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.*.%v “Four plus you and me and Ed. Seven in all. If we can rescue Quinn, that’ll make eight.” “Why does Quinn need rescu- ing? Has he got marooned on an iceberg?” , “The Norman yahoos in Kansas City are holding him and are tiying to pin the killing of Ambrose Fothergill on him. I think maybe they’ll hesitate before they go too far with him; we’re quits now — jhey've got Quinn, but I’ve got Womersleyl” “Oh, well — !’* He reached for his hat< **The day I took you on as a client I stuck my neck out a mile. It was the dopiest thing I’ve ever done. Sooner or later I’ll have to pay for it with the best years of my life.” ■ He rammed the hat c« 11* his head. “Meanwhile, let’s, have fun.” ‘ “Money is die root of all evil,” Armstrong observed. “Whatever happens Will serve you right for being greedy. Let it be a lesson to you.” Drake was jittery by the time Armstrong got back. He slammed the door with alacrity, waved his arms around while he declaimed. “This is the devil’s own mess! That stinker upstairs came round about three hours after you’d gone. He had a lot to ,say, all of it authoritative and ominous. We had a slugging match before I tied him up on the bed. Then the first edi- tion newscast came on — have you seen it ?” “Been too busy. You've got it on the recorder?” Drake nodded dumbly, crossed the room, switched on his set? The screen filled itself with the front page. EUROPEAN SHOWDOWN COMING, WARNS LINDLE. * Demands supplementary $1, 000,000, • 000.00 for nati(Muil defense; Scanning the matter beneath, Armstrong didn’t bother to read it thoroughly, contented himself with skipping from phrase to phrase. “The crisis is approaching . . , w'e must now pay and pay until it hurts . . . never forget the terrible lessons of the past . . . war clouds looming on the gray and dismal horizon . . . all unnecessary expendi- ASTOUNDINO SCIKNCB-PICTIOJT

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ture must be ruthlessly curtailed if we are to shotUder this greater and far more urgent burden ... no folly more monstrous than that of pour- ing men, material and money into Moon rockets at such a time as this.” In the adjoining column appeared a small paragraph saying, “Follow- ing his interview with the President last night, General L. S. Gregory as- sured the Press that the fighting forces are ready for any emer- gency.” Pointing to this, he said to Drake : “I’d gamble my life that Gregory spoke to much greater length than that. The rest of his comments may have been too soothing to suit the propaganda boys. So they left it out, publishing only the bit best calculated to increase public appre- hension. One selected part of the truth can be as effective as a down- right lie !” He was biting his lip as his eyes suddenly found the right-hand side column. PUBLIC ENEMY NUMBER ONE. IVashington, D. C, A nation-wide hunt is now in progress for John J. Arm- strong, thirty-four year old New York dabbler in scientific appliances. Arm- strong, who stands seventy-five inches and weiglis two hundred' thirty pounds stripped, is wanted for activities on be- half of a foreign power as well as for several Idllings and one kidnaping. He is believed to be hiding in the New York metropolitan area, and is known to be armed. There was not a word about Womersley. DREADFUL SANCTUARY His face calm and expressionless as he switched off, Armstrong com- mented : “Looks like they’ve picked* up that Cadillac.” He gave a shrug of indifference. His eyes were red- rimmed and puffy. There was a strong stubble on his chin. “You lay down for an hour or so, Ed. You need the sleep.” Drake sat in a chair, fumbled with his hands, looked at him wide- eyed. “As if I could snore through this !” “You're nervous, jumpy. . How about a shot of Vitalax?” “Vitalax!” said Drake, violently. “And so say some of us — though by no means all !” He took another chair, flopped into it, rubbed his eyes and j^awned. Then he dosed his mouth and listened. ‘’'Someone’s coming.” A car whined to a stop in front. Drake came out of his chair like a man in a dream. He stood with his hands dangling at his sides, his whole attention on the door. Armstrong smiled at him grimly, opened the door, let Hansen in. The agent was followed by three muscle-bound characters, with Mir- iam bringing up the rear. Arm- strong introduced them to Drake. They spread around the room, and Hansen announced ; “We’re one down already. Jake got picked up last night. If they’d had the sense to watch his place, they’d have got me when L went for him this morning.” He sniffed his con- tempt for the unfortunate Jake. “He was as drunk as a lord. I don’t know what I saw- in that giiy.” Ill

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'He ^k«d at Armstrong. ba^ to bring Miriam.** ■ **Of course. You couldn't leave ber bebtnd. Well vote her an angel if shell set up some sandwiches and coffee.” He watched her saun- ter into the kitchen, said to Drake : *‘We’d better feed the prisoner, too. Can't let him starve to death.” "He’s been fed. I beat him up, then gave him his fodder. He didn’t let hard feelings spoil his appetite — he guzzled like a pig.” “Good! Then he ought to be ripe for a further dose of the scluzophraser.” He tramped heavily upstairs, came down carrj'ing the bound senator like a baby in his arms. He dumped him unceremoni- ously into a chair. Glaring around, Womersley pon- tihcated in tones of outraged im- portance. "You scum needn’t think you’re g^oing to get away with this.” He bestowed the glare on each in turn. "I’ll remember each .and every one of you, and 111 see that you suffer if it takes the rest of my life I” Hansen responded, coolly: "And what do you estimate as the rest of your life?” "Shut up. Leave him alone.” Armstrong planted the cup on the furious Womersley’s head, tried to strap it accurately into position. Womersley shook his head, .vigor- ously and snarled an oath. Care- * fully and deliberately, Annstrong slapped him in the jaw. The sound of it reverberated around the room. Hansen looked mildly pleased. Womersley rocked back, and Arm- ^i» strong got the cup fixed to his own satisfaction. * He switched on the apparatus. Breathing heavily, Womersley yelled: "Arm^rong, if it’s the last — His voice petered out. The rage died away from his face which slowly became stupefied. “What is Singleton's private ad- dress?” Rolling his head to and fro, Womersley. mouthed it like an au- tomaton. Hansen pulled out a note- book, noted the address therein. • ‘But you don't know whether Quinn is there?’ • . “No.” “Singleton alone knows where he’s been hidden ?” "Yes.” Rubbing ' his bristly chin, Arm- sti'ong contemplated the semicoma- tose politician, and continued in- exorably. "Womersley, do you know that someone already is building rockets numbers nineteen and twenty ?” , “Yes.” “Who's building ^hem?” “We are.” Drake exclaimed: “Jeeperst” “Where are they being built?” “Yellowknife.”. “Both of them?”. . "Yes.” . “Yellowicnife. That’s in Canada, way up in the wilds,” Armstrong mused. “Is this stunt being pulled in collaboration with the Canadian Government ?” “Of course.” “Are these rockets near comple- tion?” “Yes.” ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB-FICTION

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“How. near?** Womersley blinked dopily, seemed to have trouble in making reply, but eventually came out with : "Nineteen is ready for its test flight.. Twenty will be ready in two clays at most.*’ "And if both pass their tests they’ll be immediately ready for a shot at the Moon?’* "Yes." In an undertone, Armstrong said : ■ "'Phew! They’ve |^ne a lot faster and further than I’d anticipated.” To Womersley: "But neither of these rockets will reach the Moon ?’’ "No." Moving close to tlie senator, he harshed: "Why won’t they?" "Tlie fuel coil changes to a criti- cal composition.” "You mean tliat they’re using wire- form fuel fed into the motors from a spool, and that the com- jwsition of the wire alters some- where along its iength?” "Yes." "Who supplied this fuel?** "Radiometals Corporation." “Are they Norman Oub adher- ents?" "No." Arm.strong looked surprised. He mooched around in a circle, thinking dc^ly. The audience gave him their full attention. He faced the senator again. “Are certain of its employees ad- herents of the Norhian Club?” "Yes." "Technicians — and ins|>ectors?” "Yes,” "What are their names?” “I don’t know.” nRRADFUT, SANCTUAB”t "Without the knowledge of their employers, they are modifying fuel coils in a manner calculated to cause a spontaneous explosion?" ‘ "Yes.” "Do you know how tliese disrup- tions arc timed^ — will they be at the beginning, or in the middle or to- wards the ends of the coils?" "With maximum delay," Woni- .orsley mumbled. "Meaning towards the ends, when both vessels are close to the Moon ?” "Yes.” Drake chipped in viciously: "Somebody ought to cut his fat throat 1" "Be quiet.” Annsirong waved him into silence, said to Womersley : “Then the pilots are not Norman Club nominees ?’’ “No.” "So far as you’re concerned, they can both go to blazes along with their vessels ?" "Yes." Armstrong turned swiftly and pushed Drake back as the latter took an angry step forward. Carrying on with his cross-ex- amination, he demanded : "Why stir the world to war. if you can bust rockets the way you’ve descrilred ?” "Our psycho-charts show that peace means a rocket-craze which may increase despite failures.” "Sor* "They’re planning on sending two together now. It will be four to- gether next year, ten the year after. We can’t continue to deal with them all successfully. Only war will- ' .113

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cha*';;;e the international psychic patterns.” Snorting his disgust Armstrong changed the subject “I told you a story about being offered plans of a scout- vessel by a Martian de- portee. You believed that story. Can 3?ou locate any such deportees ?” “No.” “Why not?” “We are notified of them, but they scatter immediately on arrival and we cannot keep track of them. Mad though they are, they're Mar- tians— and- very clever.” “You fear them?” ' “They regard us as enemies.” “Are they many in number?” “No, They are very few.” “Do you know anything about this torchlike weapon they've been using ?” “It is an Earth-made model of a vibratory coagulator.” “Has the Norman Club such a weapon ?” “No. We don’t Icnow how to manufacture it. Besides, it is for- bidden to us.” Armstrong raised his eybrows. “Forbidden ? By. whom ?” “By the same ones of Mars who are in touch with us.” “On /Aif planet?” “Yes.” “Here we go again !” Armstrong lopked around beseechingly. “Now we*ve found another gang — sane Martians this time!” He returned his attention to the befuddled Wom- ersley, **Are there many of them?” "Very few.” “How many?” “I don’t know,” “Are they allies of yours r” “Not exactly,” “What d'you mean by that?” “They assist us very little. They refuse to be militant. They main- tain a policy of interfering in world affairs no more than is made im- perative by circiunstances at any given time.” “Name me one of them,” Arm- strong challenged. “Horowitz.” “You assert that lie is a native- born Martian ?” “Yes.” “How d'you know that?” “He revealed it when first we invited him to join us. He proved it by providing a psychotron and training certain of our membership as operators of it.” “Some proof 1” scoffed Armstrong to the others.. “They get hold of Horowitz, give him the old razzma- tazz, and promptly he takes 'em up on it. He's a noted physicist with more brains than the lot of them — and as few scruples. He was quick to open the door when opportunity knocked. Getting a load of their Martian obsessions, he says, ‘Be- hold, I am a Martian!’ and they fall for it like suckers.” “That doesn’t seem credible,” Drake ventured. “No less credible than anything else in this mad affair. Big fleas have little, fleas. And besides, any Norman shrewd enough to see that Horowitz was cashing in might argue that a religion needs a saint or two to bolster the faith. Lindle, at least, is cynical enough to accept Horowitz at face value, for reasons 114 ASTOUNDING SCIBNCB. FICTION

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of utility rather than real Ix^ef.** He frowned. “1*11 tend to his saint- hood once I*m out of this mess.*’ “Hope springs etemal»** recited Drake, in funereal tcmes. “We’re in to our necks and sinking to our ears. If you can find a way out of this muddle, boy, you’ra !” Hansen stared at him hard-eyed. “You windy?” “For heaven’s sake, quit bicker- ii^!” Armstrong scowled around at them. “We'Ve footloose and fancy free, aren’t we? We’re roaming about fully dressed and in our right minds, and nobody’s put chains on us yet Nobody’s going to, either!” Drake said : “Your self-assurance is magnificent, and I truly wish I could share it. TIk fact remains that you’ve got a motley mob of pursuers 'ten miles long, and how you're going to swallow the lot of them is something I can’t make out.” He favored Womersley with a vicious look, and added: “But I’m sticking with yoji partly because I don't see what else I can do ; mostly because I want to see that cold- blooded fish get buried deep down.” “Now you’re talking,” Hansen approved. Still frowning, Armstrong spoke to Womersley: “If sane Martians ordered the. Norman Clpb to de- sist, or even to disband, would it do so?” “Yes.” “Why would it?” “They arc our superiors and we are loy^ to them.” “But they have issued no such order ?” * “No.” DBEAPFUL SANCTUABT “Some missionaries T Armstrong commented, donrljr. have infltKnced this world’s alfii^ tuns and time again, according to Ltndle. Do you know of any especial rear son why they have refused to inter- vene m this case?” “This one is diffear^t It repre- sents an important crossroads on the path to destiny, and they feel , . . they- feel”— he chok«i, mumbled, proceeded with difficult — ^“that this is one time when ^rthlings, sane or insane, must . . . work out their own ... salvation.” He choked again, slumped low in his chair. “He’s had enough.” Armstrong cut the main-switch, snatched the cup from Womerslcy’s sagging head. “Take him upstairs arid dump him on the bed. He’ll need hours to sleep it off once more.” Drake and two of Hansen’s men lugged the limp senator away.- Waiting for their return, Armstrong' {^nuled up and down the room. He was as restless as a caged bear. The others came' back ; he continued to march up and down the carpet while he addressed his audience. Their eyes followed him to and fro, to and fro, like those of specta- tors at a tennis tournament. “Let’s take another look at the situation. We’re wanted. All of us are wanted in* the sense that those not wanted today will be wanted tomorrow or the day after, either as accomplices, or as acces- sories before or after the fact. The charges against us don’t matter much — we’li be saddled with what- ever charges can be made to stick. US

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The cops, the the Norman Qub, the Martian Hu-mans and, for all I know, the Secret Service and the Navy would give plenty for our scalps.” He studied them individually. “Whatever other an- tics we may perform can’t get us in any deeper than we are already.” **The penalty for kidnaping is death,” remarked Drake. “I can’t imagine going any deeper than nine feet of rope will permit.” .Ignoring him, Armstrong went on: “We need all the help we can get — and what we can get is darned little! Apart from those present, there are only four people I' feel I can trust, namely, General Gre- gory, Bill Norton, Claire Handle and George Quinn. It’s not much use me trying to make contact with Gregory again since I can give him little more than he’s got already, -besides which I’d probably l)e pinched in the attempt. I caught him in the nick of time, and now it’s up to him. As for Claire Han- dle, she’s out of reach. I'm not worrying about her seeing that she has disappwired of her own accord. As for Bill Norton, he can't do us much good. Unwittingly, he might do us harm. He hoots with excite- ment, and we can’t afford to be bur- dened with hooters. That leaves only Quinn.” "And we know who’s holding him,” Hansen put in, his eyes glit- tering. “And we know who’s holding him,” Armstrong confirmed. “So our next step should be to get Quinn free — at all costs.” He iis paused, then said, “Any other sug- gestions?” Drake rubbed his chin thought- fully before responding. “Don’t think I’m criticizing when I ask what Quinn has got tliat none of us has got. There are seven of us here, counting Miriam. Seven rats on the run! How much better ofi shall vve be when we’re eight?” “W'c’ll be one man stronger.” “I know that. But what good will it do? Look at the situation: you started off by nosing into rocket- flops and that’s led you to the present position where you want to face tremendous and world-wide odds in order to prevent a major war. You said yourself that it isn’t sufficient for us, as a nation, to be peace-loving, animated by high ideals and a sense of justice, et cetera, because any other nation can start the holocaust. That, in turn, means that even if in some miracu- lous manner you bust the Norman Club in this country it can still set the world aflanie by starting the fire somewhere else, somewhere far be- yond your reach — Portugal or Peru, for instance. Then the flags go up, the drums start beating, and everyone sane enough to want to live will be damned as a coward and a traitor, while everyone mad enough to be willing to die will be praised as a hero. The war will be -on, the slaughter started' the entire set of circumstances will acquire an impetus which couldn’t be controlled by seven millions of us, much less a mere seven. Heck of a lot better off we’ll be when we’re eight !” Hansen leaned forward and said, ASTOUNDING RCIF.NCE-FICTION

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softly; “You*d rather -4et Quinn stew in his own juice, eh ?” “Don’t be so. downright stupid!” Drake became angry. “I’m all in favor of getting Quinn out of bad sooner than immediately. He’s a rocket-pilot and, as such, I’d give him the privilege of mauling that inhuman specimen upstairs. I’d like to do the mauling myself. Fve a special reason for that! But I’d' forego the pleasure in favor of George because he’s a rocket-pilot.” His annoyed gaze went from Hansen to Armstrong. “What I’m bawling about is that I don’t see any way out of the mess we’re in. It’s like a quicksand. All we can do is struggle and go down, down, down until we start blowing mud-bubbles. The harder we struggle, the faster we’ll sink. That’s the way I see it. Maybe you see it differently. Maybe you see something I don’t. If so. I’d like to know of it. I could feel I’m going somewhere, and a feeling like that is a great comfort.” “Then you may consider your- self comforted,” Armstrong told him. “Our amiable friend Wom- ersley was kind enough to point” a way out.” “Eb?’’ Drake’s jaw dropped. “He said, ‘We’re at the last ditch !* didn’t he? So we’ll utilize the ditch — if luck holds out long enough.” “Yeah.” Drake looked confused. “Yeah.” He passed a hand un- certainly over his forehead. “This is ' what comes of being up and about when I ought to be In bed. I’m too dopey to get it.” He turned his puzzled face to Hansen. “Do you get it ?” PRlBiVI>FUL 8ANCTr-4KT “No,” rq>lied the agent, imcoth cemedlyr “^And I’m not worrying about it. ‘WMTy never earned me a dime.” “George Quinn knows something we don’t, something very useful,” Armstrong explained. “He knows when, where and how to blow.” Drake screwed up his eyes as. looked at him. After a while,, he gave it up, and said, lugubriously: “Take no notice of me. I’m too far gone even to understand plain English.” “All right. Let’s accept that We go after Quinn. # That gives us two more problems. Firstly, do we tal« Miriam v.dth us?” “Try leaving me behind,” snapped Miriam from the kitchen doorway. She used a coffee percolator to' ges»- ture toward Hansen. “He’s my only alibi. I’m sticking to him.” “There’s my answer.” Armstrong grinned, and went on, “Do we tak* Womersley, or shall we leave him here under guard ?” ^ Hansen said : “He’s worth ^is weight in gold to us. I don’t Re- lieve in parting with gold. Besides,-, leaving him under guard will cut our number down.”. “Keep him in sight,” advised Drake. “I like him better in sight. I wouldn’t trust him around the corner. I don’t' trust him upstairs, ' even if he is unconscious.” “We’ll cart him along.” Arm- strong glanced at his watdi. “We’ve lost too much time already. There are two cars now, Hansen’s and Drake’s. We’ve a long run ahead of us and ought to sta^rt as soon as we can get ready.” He , lit

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indicated the apparatus on the floor. “And we’d better take all this junk if we can find room for it. It may come in useful if some other canary refuses to chirrup.” “Kansas City, we’ll see you soon !’^ Hansen stood up, and his three men arose with him. “Pro- vided we’re not picked up on the way !” XV. Singleton’s home stood wide open as if its owner had not one enemy in the world. It posed in amazing contrast with the fortresslike edifice which Womersley needed to feel secure. Evidently Singleton had no cause to share the leeriness of Nor- man Club leaders farther cast, per- haps for the reason that he headed a cohort smaller, less active, not so deeply involved in the Club’s peculiar affairs. It was an old, rambling but pic- turesque house standing in care- fully tended grounds, and it en- j(^ed that air of solid, well-es- tablished respectability favored by bankers and the more conservative types of business men. -Viewing it, Armstrong felt considerably heartened. After seeing Womers- ley’s prison he had expected yet another personal Alcatraz. Sitting in the front car beside Hansen, who lounged at the wheel, and with the second car parked close behind, he said : “That chump Womersley has admitted that Singleton knows him by sight. We also know that Singleton is in that house at this moment. We’ve been mighty lucky to get this far without iia incident and 1 reckon we ought to ride our luck while it’s still run- ning, W-hat say we use Womersley as our front — and walk straight in?” “I like it.” Hansen’s sharp eyes surveyed the house across the road. “It has always paid me to move fast rather than slow. When you’re slow, it gives the other guy time to think.” “Let’s go. I’ll tell them at back first.” Opening the door, Arm- strong got out. Cautiously, he looked up and down the street. He was careful rather than apprehen- sive. After many hours of travel, and numberless encounters with ail sorts of people — -including two cops — none of whom had looked at him with more than casual interest, he was not greatly in fear of recog- nition. This despite the.photograph of him published in yesterday’s sheets under an offer of two hundred thousand dollars reward, dead or alive. It had been an old and not-too- good reproduction of his beefy pan, blown up to quarter-plate size from a. slice of microfilm. Even if it had been good he’d not have been unduly worried. Most folk, he knew, could not remember what they’d read over breakfast let alone what appeared in yesterday’s papets. The sharp-eyed exception with an acute memory was his only peril — so carefully he surveyed the street. It was quiet, undisturbed. Step- ping swiftly to the second car, he spoke to one of Hansen’s men who was at its wheel. “We’re going straight in. Keep close behind us.” ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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The other nodded, shifted a wad of gum. Armstrong glanced at Womersley who was jammed in the rear seat between Draia and another of Hansen’s men. Womersley glared back at him without remark. Returning to the leading car. he got in, \vatched the rear-view mirror as they edged across . the road, purred up the semicircular drive to Singleton’s residence. They stopped before the front door, the other car following suit. There were two more cars parked farther around ihe drive and nearer the exit, but no pa5sei^;ers were in evidence. With Hansen at his side and the rest b^ind, Armstrong mounted the ten broad steps leading to the front door, rang the bell. A pert maid responded. Smiling at her, he raised his hat, said smoothly. “This is Senator Womersley and some friends-^we wish to Mr. Singleton imme- diately. Please tell him that the subject of our call is a very urgent one.” She smiled back, eying the group without suspicion, and chirped:. “Please, wait a moment.” She turned and went away with a flirt of frilly skirts which sent Hansen’s eyebrows up an inch. In short time she reappeared. “Mr. Singleton will sw you at once.” Stepping aside, Armstrong gave her his hat. His other hand re- mained inside his pocket, its fingers curled around his .58. Hansen en- tered likewise, hat in one hand, hidden gun in the other. So did Ws three men. With Drake close against his back and Miriam chum- PBSADFUL SANCTUASt mily linked on his arm, Womersley went through the do^ with di^ gruntled pomposity. Dumping the hats, the maid led them across a broad hall, opened the door on the farther side. Armstrong paused, signed to Womersley. Looking like a man who had plei^ owing to him and intended to clace, his legs braced apart, his hands behind him, .his eyes staring owHshly through thick- lensed spectacles, stood HorowUz. The fourth person was Claire Mandle. She was near a table, one hand braced on its polished surface, the other held to her mouth. Her elfin eyes were enormous as they looked at him. “Well, well, Eustace,” enthused Singleton, in. a shrill voic^ “This « a surprise!” Finding his feet, he advanced toward Womersley with eager cordiality. “I thought — ” “You thought right,” snafued Lindle, his voice cutting throu^ the room, He withdrew a couple of itf

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steps, his brow thunderous. "And now you’ve a load of trouble in your lap.’* “Huh?’ Singleton stopped with one foot in the air, took a long time putting it. down. It looked as if he were trying to imitate' a slow-motion iftovie. Turning just as sluggishly, he looked at Lindle. “What d’you mean? Can’t you see that Eustace “Shut up and sit down!” Lindle snarled, “It takes a crazy Daniel to walk right into the den !” His dark eyes focused on Armstrong. •“All right, let’s have it — what d’you want ?” Armstrong ignored Lindle, Horo- witz and Claire Mandle ; he kept his full attention on the flustered Singleton as he answered the ques- tion in deep, rumbling tones like those of distant thunder. He said, simply: “George Quinn 1” Singleton turned startled eyes upon him, and he caught them and held them as he continued in the same inexorable voice, “And heaven help the lot of you if he’s dead!" Singleton whitened, moved back- ward, “Stt^y where you are.” Arm- strong strode farther into the room. Out of one corner of his eye he saw Lindle resume his easy-chair and cross his legs with exaggerated unconcern. Claire was still by the table, still regarding him wide-eyed. Horowitz had not moved from the fireplace. He said to Singleton : “Where’s George Quinn?” The other seemed smitten dumb by sheer fright. His gaze roamed 120 dull-wittedly around ; feebly he raised his hands, put them down again. Reaching for a nearby wall-bulb, Armstrong unscrewed it, glanced at it, screwed it back into place. He made a grimace of disgust. “What’s the matter?” inquired ' Hansen. “Fifty volts. This dump must have its own generating plant. The schizophraser’s no use here — it’s got to have a hundred and ten.” “We can take him some place else and pick him to bits at our ease. This isn’t the only — ” Hansen stopped as Drake nudged him. ' “You look after this slob,” sug- gested Drake, meaning the irate Womersley. He moved out as Han- sen took over, started walking slow- ly and deliberately toward Single- ton. His face was strangely pale and little beads of perspiration lay across his forehead. “I’ll tend to this,” he gritted. The others watched him fascinatedly. Going right up to Singleton, he said, quiet- ly but clearly: “I’ve got a personal bone to pick with you — you dirty little rat !” Flapping his hands again, Single- ton slumped backward into his chair. Drake towered over him, went on in the same quiet tones: “Remember that last one that blew apart on the deck, before it even could take off? It killed sixty, didn’t it ? One of them was a synchronies engineer named Tony Drake — my brother! 1 saw him go!” His voice went up in tone and became louder. “That was ac- cording to plan — your plan, you ASTOUNDING SCIDNGE-FICTION

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shrinking lou^t” His hand whipped out of his. poclcet and flashM a gleam of metallic blue. “Here’s my plan! YouVe got ten seconds to say what you’ve done with George Quinn, So help me, if you don’t give — and give quick — I’ll splash your snake-brains over the wall — and this’ll show you I mean business!” The gun roared with sudden and .unexpected viciousness that shocked the room. • Singleton emitted a squeal of pain that p.enetrated the reverberations still bouncing from wall ft) wall. Dragging up his left foot, he tried to get it into his lap. His face was so colorless that it held a curious quality of trans- parency. As Armstrong moved forward, his big fa(e taut, Drake was breathing into' the agonized Singleton’s fea- tures: “Five, six, seven, eight.” The gun came up. - , “Out at Keefer’s! He’s out at Keefer’s, I tell you!” Singleton shrieked. The door opened, the maid looked in anxiously. Nobody had heard her knock. One of Hansen’s men grasped her arm, drew her into the room, planted his broad back against the closed door. “Alive?” insisted Drake. His optics were afire with hate as he kept them fixed on his victim. “Oh, my foot!” moaned Single- ton. He got it onto his knee. Blood dripped from his slice, made

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little, glutinous splashes on the car- pet. “Oh, my foot !” “Alive?” Drake motioned with his gun. His mouth was all lop- sided, ‘‘When I ask you something you’d better reply fast! Tm not like you, see? I’m not sane!” He gave a queer, unnatural laugh. “I’m daffy. I’m so daffy that I can do almost anything . . . anything . . . especially to you !” Bending for- ward, he bawled right into Single- ton’s face. “.Is Quinn alive?” Singleton hooted for breath, then yelped frantically: “Yes, he’s alive. He’s at Keefer’s, I tell you! And he’s alive !” “Where’s Keefer’s?” In cool, sardonic tones, Liiidle cut in with : “The place to which that pathetic weakling refers is half an hour’s drive from here. It has a telephone. It would save you a lot of trouble, mot to mention a modicum of melodrama, if Singleton called and ordered them to bring Quinn to you here.” For some weird reason, this in- furiated Drake. He turned his savage eyes to Lindle, swung the gun toward him as well. “Who asked you to open your trap ? This is the lily-livered specimen who’s going to provide the answers, and when — ” ‘ “Easy, Ed!” Armstrong made a swift snatch which got him Drake’s gun. “Cool down, will you? Cool down !” Drake shouted : “But — ” “Take it easy!” Armstrong held him, eye to eye. “Quinn first. We 122 want to get George, don’t we ? Business before pleasure 1” Slowly, very slowly, Drake de- flated. Finally he said : “All right. Let that louse ring Keefer’s. That’ll be the signal for them to dump Quinn in the river before they come on the run for us.” "We’ll take a chance on that.” He studied the moaning Singleton. “And I don’t think we’ll be taking much of a chance — this guy won’t sign his own death warrant.” To Singleton, he said: “There’s the phone. Tell ’em you want Quinn brought here at once.” "ily foot!” complained Single- ton, whiningly. He pulled the shoe off, revealed a saturated sock. “Let me bandage it first. I’ll bleed to death !” "Bleed to death!” Armstrong’s smile was grim as he noted the other’s appalled expression. “Mil- lions are going to bleed to death if you and your kind get their way. Fat lot you care about that — and a fat lot we care about you!” He shoved the phone into Singleton’s shaking hands. “Go ahead. Say anything you like. Yell for help if you want — it may reach you if you’re slow in dying!” “John!” Claire Mandle took a tentative step forward. She was shaken, uncertain. Lindle watched her with acjd amusement. Horowitz turned his lenses toward her, his expression inscrutable. Armstrong ignored her. “Go ahead,” he urged Singleton. Claire withdrew her step, sat down. Her bottom lip trembled. Singleton on the telephone, ironed ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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the quavers out of his voice, aod said with passable authoi^y : “Bring Quinn in. Yes, at once l” Puttiz^ down the instrument, he started to peel off his sock. Armstrong sent o*t the maid, guarded by one of Hansen's men. She came back with bandages; he sat on the arm of a chair and watched her tet^ to Singleton's wound. “The incurable sentimentalist.” Lindle studied him from across the room. “So far as I kno^, you’re the first certifiably sane one who's proved too spiritually lacy to dis- cipline his own emotions. And look where it’s got you.^’ His chudcle was self-assured. “Two hundred grand reward, alive or dead!” He shook his well-groomed head in mock sorrow, “Remember what I said to you once — see how you like the madhouse now?” He got no response. Armstrong stared at him with sphinxlike lack of expression. “It’ll be a darned sight madder before long,” Lindle prophesied. “I shall always remain amazed that anyone so fundamentally sane should choose to support the world’s lunatics. I have been lost for an explanation of this contradiction. It seems to me that either the psy- chotron was o,ut of order and made a wrong diagnosis of you — which our friend Horowitz, a psychotron expert, denies most emphatically — or else we never did sucewd in convincing you of the facts of his- tory past and present. Personally, I lean to the latter theory. You are sane — but an incurable skeptic. I think your bullheaded aettoos rinc* we last »w each other an entirriy due to your inability to i^>reciate what you’re up against. You don’t believe even your own-eyei!” He sat more erect in his chair. “It wouldn’t do you any harm to put some trust in them for once — and allow me to remind you that there is always time to repent.” Armstrong’s face remained blank ; his lips did not part “Our power is such,” boasted Lindle, determined to make some use of the waiting-time; “that if we wished we could wtffidraw all charges against you and your companions today. Wec<mld make you puUic heroes tomorrow — and w^thy men the day after.” “What d’you mean by wealthy?” put in Hansen, displaying sudden interest. Lindle’s dark, sardonic eyes shifted to the agent. “We’re no pikers. A hundred grand per man.” “Not enough.” Hansen gestured to the impassive Armstrong. “He’s promised me half a million. He’s a better liar even than you !” Miriam giggled. Lindle became sour. Armstrong watched Lindle steadily, still said nothing. The surly and silent Womersley unexpectedly woke up and growled at Lindle: “You’re wasting your breath. They’re all completely un- balanced no matter what your psy- chotron said.” He puffed like an angry frog. “Leave them alone and let them ' writ what’s omiii^ to them.” Claire Mandle stood up again, PB£ADFUL sanctuary 128

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3p<^ hesitantiy: ^John, 1 tri^ to hdp. Believe me, I — ” “Be silent, Claire I” Horowitz was authoritative, severe. “I have toiji you repeatedly that assistance and interference are totally differ- ent things. The first is permitted, the second is not ! Positively not !” His heavy spectacles turned on Armstrong. Obviously he expected a retort. Silent and’ brooding, .Armstrong sat like a huge, cumber- some bear, his eyes hard and cold • as they watdied Lindle. ' Horowitz surveyed him as if he were a curi- ous spramen nailed to a board. “Tljis man,” he pronounced care- ; ■f-tilly, “knows quite well wliat might be done and intends to see if it can be done.. If he fails, it is fate. If he succ^s, it is fate likewise.” He shrugged his drooping shoulders. '“Arid that is all there is to it!” “Are you going as loony as the rest?” demanded Lindle, heatedly. His eyes held little red lights. “Nothing can be done, absolutely nothing !” “Do you dare to talk to me like that?” Horowitz put the question calmly, ' evenly, but its effect was surprising. The lights faded from Lindle’s optics and he appeared to shrink in his ^t. Liclcing his lips, he apolo- gized : "I am sorry. It is not for us to question your ideas.” A bell shrilled loudly in the liall. Tile maid threw a scared glance at Singleton who prorhptly passed it along to Armstrong. The latter nodded to Hansen. “You look after it. Take a couple of your boys.” 124' Hansen loimged out followed by two of his men. Lindle assumed a look of helpless resignation, tilted back in his chair. His eyes were aimed at the ceiling with the air of one bored beyond telling, and he rocked the chair slightly, its front feet off the floor, then b<^:an to tilt it larther. Coldly and deliberately, Arm- strong blew a lump of Lindle’s skull away before the back of the chair could contact the stud set in the wall . behind, ^he body kicked twice, slid to the floor. Miriam b^n to .emit curious mewing noises. Claire buried her face in her hands. In the second of eternity that followed, Armstrong caught a mo- mentary glimpse of Horowitz gravely removing his glasses. He had no time to note more. Single- ton, . squeaking with frenzied fear, was coming up with something which had been hidden in the cushion of his chair, and Drake was tnaking for him unarmed. He could hear Drake snuffling like a boxer as he shuffled forward. There was an uproar in the liall, two fast explosions, more noises from Miriam, and the stumbling of feet close behind him. He swung his gun to deal witli Singleton, found Drake blocking his line of fire. Dropping the gun, he rose from.tlie arm of the cltair on which he'd been sitting, swiveled round on one heel, snatched Womersley out of the grasp of Hansen’s man be- hind him, grunted as he swung the senator's heavy body into revere and bounced it on its cranium. ASTOUNDING SOIKNCR-FICTION

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WomersI^ }^ed» fl&iled, went limp. ^ .Another gtm Went in the hall, then two more. Miriam began to X^erform a crazy jig, with her mouth wide op«i. Yet another explosion sounded within the room and Drake collapsed across Singleton’s chair. Singleton shoved the body ofF, stood up on one foot, turned his gun to- ward Armstrong, He was yipping hysterically and his hand was shak- ing so badly that the gun’s muzzle wavered erratically. He had a mo- ment of fearful indecision as his eyes went from the advancing Arm- strong to the Hansen-agent sidling around at one side, and that was his undoing. The body of Drake shot out a dy- ing hand, snatched Singleton’s gO(^ foot fiom under him, brought him down, grabbed at and got his gun. Tile gun spat low in the caipet and Sii^leton screeched like a trapped <»t. He .doubled up violently, straightened out, doubled and straightened again, writhed around with his hands to his middle. Down on the carf)et, Drake cobbed .some blood, ^d in a weatc, faraway voice: "That’s a law., . . good enough for any . . . darned Martians — an eye for an eye !” He strove to lift the gun once more. Armstrong stooped over him to take it from hhn as it came up, but he was too late. With horrible de- liberation, Drake planted a heavy sli^ behind riie Jerkii^ Singleton’s right ear. "Job worth doing,” he wheezed, "is worth doing well.” Something gurgled liquidly in his throat. He released his hold on DKBADFCL 8ANCTUAB9 the weapon, laid his head on Hs left arm and quietly ceased to breathe. Armstrong looked around. Horo- witz was standing by the firqilace in exactly the same pose as he’d held from the start,- and his expression still was completely impassive. Claire was in Iict chair, her face hidden in her hands. Lindle, Sin- gleton and Drake sprawled dead upon the floor. To one side, Han- sen’s agent was surveying the bodies gloomily, while near the door Miriam stood like one in a dream. Hansen himself suddenly ap- peared in the doorway. He tii^^ the maid ahead of him, while Geoi^e Quinn and another of his men fol- lowed him in. “One of my boys is finished,” he announced. “We got two of th«r men.” Hjs dark, hawklil^ eyes studied the frightened maid. "She gave them the high-sign som^ow— I don’t know how — immediately they got through the door. They .went for their guns. She tried to beat it while we were busy. She’d have had the entire town on our necks if she’d got away. Quinn stopped her.” “Good work, George,” Arm- strong approved. “It won't look so good mighty socm,” opined Quinn, taking in the scene. **They’re phoning frmn Keefer’s in twenty minutes to madee sure everything’s O.K.” He turned his worried |^zc to Armstrong. know you folk have done all-thia for me, but-r-” “Let’s cut out the speeches.” iss

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Armstrong made a gesture of impa- tience, discovered that his hand was still holding a gun. He shoved the Weapon into his pocket. “We want out. We’ve got to move fast. We’ll leave the bodies and take the rest.” “All of them?” Hansen counted them, Horowitz, the maid, Claire Mandle and the semiconscious Womersley now beginning to stir upon the floor. “That means four more!” “We can’t leave one to start the pursuit. If we take ’em, it may de- lay things, and we need the best lead we can get. We’ve four cars avail- able now. We’ll take all the cars and all the living.” He looked at Horowitz. “You for a start — come on!” Claire uncovered her face and said: “John, I guessed that you wanted Quinn, and why you wanted him, and I — ” '“Later,” he told her, gently, “later on. Not now.” He mo- tioned Horowitz forward. Obedi- ently, that glassy-eyed individual paced toward the door. ^ Somehow, he didn’t hate Horowitz any longer. He’d been satiated by Drake’s dying spasm of vengeafice, and now he felt only cold, cold, colder even than the dead, the multi-millions of dead who soon were to litter the earth — if planet-wide plotting could not be thwarted at one stroke. His voice was sympathetic of his coldness; a frigid-toned thing that said to Horo- witz, “March !” and caused him to march without hesitation or quibble. They locked the front door, 12C loaded the four cars and sped away. Horowitz’s own machine, a long, low-slung job, took the lead with Hansen at its wheel. It held a short-wave radio which Hansen switched on, but there had been no howl of alarm over the police-band an hour later when they rolled into a skyport, made a deceitfully sedate cavalcade across its tarmac toward the control tower. Either Keefer’s had failed to check or, getting no reply to their call, they were investigating with considerable caution. That portion of the Norman gang would be likely to prove the unexpected mess with the careful respect due to Martian Hu-mans whom they’d assume to be the cause of it. They did not fear Armstrong, but they were natu- rally leery of the Hu-mans and especially of their potent coagu- lators. The time their care was costing them was all to the good from the viewpoint of the fugi- tives. The etW was still clear nearly another hour later when their hired twelve-seater, low-wing jet- plane was ready for them. . Obtaining the plane had proved absurdly easy. Faced by a sudden request for a hire-and-drive-your- self passenger job, fully fueled, the skyport’s booking officer had felt in- clined to jib. He had wavered at sight of a wad of notes and four automobiles to be left as security. George’s pilot’s certificate had done the rest. He read aloud the last words on the certificate, mouthing them with awe. . . including liquid-fuel rock- ets of meteorological or experimen- ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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taJ tjrpes.” He look^ up, his eyes bugging^. Not one wanted man was on his mind, “First rocket certifi- cate Fve seen.” Handing it back as if it were the original copy of Magna Carta, he entered the book- ing without further argument, in fact eagerly. With the machine waiting for them, its compressors rotating at minimum while they heated up, they climbed in one by one. Horo- witz went up the portable steps as blank-faced as an image. Wom- erslcy, now on his feet, but rubber- legg^ and half-stupefied, had to be assisted in. The skyport’s onlook- ers observed him with mild sym- pathy and total lack of suspicion. The maid turned on the steps as if tempted to yell her head off, but she changed her mind when she looked into tfie eyes of Hansen , mounting close behind her. The rest got aboard with disarming casual- ness. George gave his craft the gun, took her up to five thousand feet and headed dead south. This ac- corded with their declared destina- tion and made their departure look conventional to observers on the skyport. He boosted her speed slowly but steadily. The ether re- mained silent. Edging into the co-pilot’s seat, Armstrong said to Quinn: ‘*How soon can we turn north without giv- ing ourselves awav to the boys be- hind ?” Narrowing his eyes as he stared through the transpax, Quinn pon- dered a moment. “They had a ro- tary hemispherical antenna on the tower. That means they've got radar. Maybe' it's used only in times of bad visibility, or at night On the , other hand, perhaps it’s in constant use. I don’t know. If we want to play safe, we’ll have to get below their horizon before we change course, and then we’ll have to make the full turn still below it. That means a pretty wide sweep. If we’re being sought for, ground observers will spot us elsewhere.” “We're not being sought for yet.” Armstrong fiddled with the controls of the radio. **I don't know why they’re so slow at starting a hue and cry. I think this Singleton’s mob must be a small and unimportant one compared with those we’ve got east.” Meditatively he rubbed his chin. There was a stiff bristle on it again. “What happened to Fothergill ?” “I haven’t got the full story, but I reckon you were right in one respect — he knew something. Either he bleated it or was about to do so. I heard an argument in his office, followed by a shot. Stupidly, I barged straight in, found Miller there, gun in hand, watching Fothergill die at his desk, Muller looked at me as if I were of no consequence whatsoever. He didn’t bother even to turn his gun my way. Before I could recover my wits I heard a quick step right behind me and someone handed me a skull-splitter.” “Tough luck.” woke up traveling fast in a lorry which eventually dumped me at Keefer’s, and I’ve been there DREADFUL SANCTUARY • 12T

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under guard ever since. Th^ let me read their new^-recorder, so I soon learned that I’d been saddled with the killing and was wanted by the authorities. 1 knew also tliat you were wanted for everything up •to massacre.” He threw his listener a sidewise glance. “VVhen Single- ton sent his call for me 1 decided that this was it ; my time had come. Nobody was more surprised than I when tile guys I thoi^ht were his men proved to be your men and opened up on my guard.” **Thc said guard were more sur- prised,” Armstrong guessed. His smile was hard an<^‘ craggy. “I’ve learned something long known to people more worldly-wise than I — the a^ressor always has the ad- vantage. That -is what enabled guerilla movements to keep func- tioning despite German., and Jap occupation — ^the old strikc-and-van- ish ^technique. That is what has l«pt us going successfully — so far.” He studied the rolling countryside a§ the plane dipped and sivung. ‘ “Turn north whim you think it’s safe, George. We’re malcing for • Yellowknife.” “Yellowknife?” Quinn was mys- tified. “What the deuce is tliere?” “Mate in one move,” said Arra- stroi^. “If the luck of Old Nick enables us to make it !” Leaving the co-pilot’s scat, he went back along the cabin, joined Claire Mandle. , “We're going to drop you off some place.” . “Why?” '^We’re fugitives from justice,” he pointed out. “It wouldn’t do. you any good to be found asso- ciating with us voluntarily?* “But, John, ttiis can’t go on fbt- cver. You can’t spend the rest of your natural life running around like a hunted crook. Why don't you — ?” “Why don’t I give myself up and let the wolves eat me?” he finished for her. “They don’t punish innocent men,” she protested. He regarded her calmly, knowing that she did not believe her o\.n ^ords. Then he said: “We’re going to put you down on our way. If you want to hdp, you can do so by saying notlwng whatever about us for several days afterward.” She was slightly flushed, her mind full of arguments, her lips unable to voice them. After a while,' she murmured: “We may never meet again — never 1” ^‘Just ships that pass in the night,” he agreed. He was watch- ing her closely. Slie found an ab- *$urd little handkerchief, held it to her mouth. Her eyes were faraway and moist. Gently squeezing her arm, he went on: “Or we may meet in Jhe sunrise — if we can persuade Old Man Sun to come up. We’re going to have a darned good try, anyway.” “You’re bucking a task as tough as that of trying to boss the Sun around.” Her voice was low, muf- fled. “You’re trying to divert forces infinitely beyond your power. I know it — I tried to help you and found it futile.” “Tell me,” he invited. astounding scikncb-piction

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SHe was quiet for a time, toying with her -handkerchief while she regain composure. Eventually, she said: *‘I put together all that you had'told me and it made a picture of a sort. When I read about George Quinn’s disappearance I de- duced that it would be a imjor blow to you, I guessed that you wanted him, that you needed him badly.” ' “You know why?’* “I think so.” “And then?” “I realized that all lines led to the Norman Club. I remembered that they had made overtures to Bob. If they were interested in Bob, they might be equally interested in his sister — and when people get friendly they sometimes talk too much.” He nodded understandingly as she went on : “There seemed some slight chance of gaining their confidence sufficiently to discover whether they were responsible for Quinn’s vanishing and, if so, what they had done with him. One of the men who had been pestering me for information regarding you was Carson, who described himself as Senator Lindle’s secretary. I threw my shadows, ‘went along to see Lindle.” “Go on,” he urged. “Lindle was away. Carson trans- fered me to Horowitz who said that Lindle had gone to Kansas City. Horowitz cross-examined me to great length about Bob's work also about your activities, but I professed ignorance. I don’t think he believed me.” “He wouldn’t,” Armstrong &s- DRBA«FUT, SANCTUARY serted. “Being so expert a liar himself.” She smiled and said ; “He assured me that he’s a^ Martian with this world under his thumb.” “By this time, he believes it him- self—he’s told the tale so often.” “He had a most peculiar attitude toward me, I can describe it only as speculative cordiality. There was something in his mind, his shrewd, fast-thinking mind, which told him I could be useful to him- — as an ally, or a hostage, or both. I could tell that much, but I don’t think he realized that I could. Hav- ing got me there, he didn’t want to detain me by force, neither- did he want me to go. I think he sus- pected that compulsory detention might bring out the unpleasant fact that I was bait provided by the F.B;I. On the other hand, he didn’t w'ant to lose me. He found a way out by offering to escort me to Kansas City to see Lindle in person. I took him up on that.” “A nice example of angels rush-^ ing in where fools fear to tread,” Armstrong conjmented. “You’ll ha\ e to change your reckless' ways at some date I’ve got in mind.” “You’re the one to talk!” she riposted. Her eyes surveyed him from their tilted corners before she went on. “I used what wiles I possess to persuade Horowitz to give forth during our journey, I’ve never met a man w'ho can be so boastful without really saying any- • thing. All I could do was r^d te- tween the lines and draw conclu- sions.” “At which you’re too good for is»

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my future comfort,” he suggested. She smiled again. “I decided that he is a very clever man w'ho had a couple of inventions lying around at a moment when a glorious oppor- tunity presented itself. He had the brains to welcome opportunity with both hands’ He is another and craftier Hitler — this time with his cohorts underground.” “That’s my estimate, too,” Arm- strong agreed. “And he’s made enemies among a few who know too much. They are likewise under- ground-trying to steal his thunder by claiming Martianhood, even if insane. The insane touch is a nice terror weapon. Hu-mans, bunk!” “Which is what makes the strug- gle so crazy,” she observed. “It i,sn’t a .simple two-sided affray. It’s multi-sided. The Normans versus Humans versus you^ versus unin- formed authority. Each smiting the nearest to hand, like an Irish wedding;” She pondered momen- tarily. “In the end, we reached Kansas City, and immediately I found myself practically a prisoner. It served me right, I suppose. But I discovered two more items.” “What were those?” “Clark Marshall had a taste of the psychotron and got delusions of . insanity. He knew enough to be a menace to them. They sought him in vain, and their opponents obligingly did the job for them.” She closed her eyes, her voice went , lower. “But I think they got Bob. I think Bob played with them, seek- ing information to pass along to the government — and they found it out.” 139 He squeezed her arm gently. “It’s our turn now. Wait and see!” Getting up and going forward, he had a look through the transpex. “How’re we doing, George?” “East-northeast. We’ll be head- ing north pretty soon. Still not a squawk on the short waves.” Quinn flipped the radio’s band- switch. “Let’s try the mediums.” Promptly the radio blared forth, “. . . defined all these accusations of surreptitious military dictatorship as a manifest political maneuver which should deceive nobody. Continu- ing, General Gregory said that as newly-appointed commander-in- chief of the joint defense services he accepted full responsibility for all orders issued from his head- quarters and that the armed forces would be used to maintain internal peace at all costs. It was now his task, he declared, to employ the wide powers granted him to insure that if world peace were disturbed it would not be disturbed by the United States of America. When asked whether the names of Sena- tors Lindle, Embleton and Womers- ley would appear on the list which the President has instructed him to prepare, the general snapped briefly, T have nothing more to say !’ ” Glancing up from his instruments, Quinn found Armstrong’s eyes alight with joyous fire. The radio coughed, beg-pardoned, and went on ; “In a dark and fore- boding speech made in Clermont Ferrand this afternoon, the French Minister for War reminded France that on two occasions she had been ASTOUNDING SCIENCE-FICTION

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caught unprepared. Announcing the call-up of another three classes to the colors, he warned his listeners that the present international line- up made the third and final world- war well-nigh inevitable. France, he asserted, was determined to pre- serve her integrity at all costs, and he could tell potential enemies that she now had at her disposal weap- ons mightier even than the atom bomb. A sensational editorial in to- day’s edition of Derniercs Nouvelles de Stra^ourg claims that one of these weapons may prove to be a neo-bubonic pandemic.” Again Quinn looked up. Arm- strong was scowling heavily. “It’s going to be touch and go, George,” he rumbled. “^The sands are running out fast.” He hooked his brawny leg across the corner of the co-pilot’s seat, ran a hand over Ins forehead wearily. “There’s an invisible empire sprawling right across the globe. It’s old and cyni- cal and utterly ruthless and it thinks it can last as long as the accursed principle of divide ajid rule. But it’s got a weak spot!” He mas- saged his chin bristles vigorously. ■’Definitely, it has a weak spot! It could be made to collapse like a house of cards. Heaven help the lot of us if we don’t bring it down with one blow, at the right time, in the right place. Heaven help the whole of humanity, for their monu- ments will be a series of those huge, mushroom-shaped clouds rising from a sea of lamentations !” Looking serious, Quinn juggled his controls as the plane dipped and side-slipped. “The Four Horsemen,” continued Armstrong, speaking to, . himself, “they shall go forth through the lands and, tl'iere shall be sounds of weeping wherever breath is drawn. There will be atom bombs and neo- bubonic pandemics — the arrow that flieth by day and the pestilence that stalketh by night !” His voice rasped on Quinn’s cars. “Neither can we save ourselves by a world- wide smelling out of witches, for the witches are too many, too scat- tered, too cleverly disguised.” He leaned forward, said to Quinn, “But what if all their witchcraft suddenly becomes ten thousand years behind the times ?” “Eh ?” Quinn was startled. XVI. Completing their turn, they hit the northward route at twenty thou- sand feet above Council Bluffs and from there followed the Missouri up into the Dakotas. Still the ether maintained silence on the short-wave bands. Either the slaughter at Singleton’s had not yet been dis- covered or else the real perpetrators weren’t yet suspected. Probably the latter decided Armstrong, know- ing the obsessions of his antago- nists. At this very moment, in alb probability, they were making futile attempts to identify Dr^e from their lists of Martian deportees. The longer they continued to bark up the wrong tree, the greater the fugtives’ period of grace — and they could do with every hour of it, every minute. The plane roared on, its jets DRK.^DFUL S.\NCTUARY AST— 5X 131

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might open out — like a flower in the sunsliine. But at that exact moment, fifty- thousand steel-ltjidded feet were demonstrating the long forgotten Passo Romano, the totalitarian goose-step, along Turin’s Via Milano, Atomic warheads were being loaded onto hydraulic eleva- tors in underground factories in the Urals, A lake of broth, seeth- ing with cultures, was being strained at France’s Bacteriological Research Station at Lyons, A test-shower of phosphorus pelUcules was satis- factorily burning up a field of wheat in Bulgaria. British newspapers were busily hounding out of public life a leading political personality who had dared to say that the road to war is not the path to peace. Through press-recorders, over the radio and television networks, along each and every conceivable channel of propaganda swelled the flood of lies, half-truths and willful misrepresentations which, if main- tained long enough and made strong enough, would sweep the world’s cretins from their precarious hold on individual life and into the sea of death. The chorus of suspicion and hatred slowly but surely was building itself up to the culmination ^Jesired by those controlling it — kill or be killed ! Already the smear-technique was dealing with those unwilling to con- form. Later, when frenzied masses were psychologically prepared for it, the smear-technique would give ^vay to the blank wall and the firing squad. First- make the mob scream for Barabbas — then let them crucify l>REAI>Pnr, SANCTCARV their own ! Like l>es. isn’t it?” He grinned, showing big, white teeth. “And one more of them is — maybe 133

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get where we’re planning to goT , Horowitz offered no reply, but :his magnified* optics were cold as they regarded the -other. “Keep him out of circulation at least seventy-two hours,” Armstrong instructed the Hansen-agent. “After that, toss him to the F.B.I. Whatever you do, don’t lose him. Blow his nut off if he gets out of step with you.” “It’ll take him all his time to stay alive,” promised the escort, dourly. “Oh, John.” Chiire looked up, her tip-tilted eyes anxious. “John, I— “And maybe I’ll be seeing again,” he told her, with feeling. He flipped her an envelope which she caught and put in her pocket. “Stay close with the others, and watch his Snakeship the Martian until he’s handed over. Then beat it to Gregory. You’ll be all right. Don’t worry about us.” He studied her as if photographing her piquant fea.tures in his mind, “ 'Bye, Pixie !” He closed the fuselage door. Quinn boosted the machine off the ground, gained height rapidly. Sit- ting beside him, Armstrong frowned thoughtfully through the transpex until the three figures on the ground were lost to sight. “That goggle-eyed bigbrain is as Martian as my left foot,” he said, suddenly. “To use an Irishism, if I’m sane and he’s sane then one of us is nuts.” “He can prove he’s sane,” Quinn pointed out. 1S4 “What of it? Suppose we end up by proving him a liar?” “You’ve got something there.” Quinn mused a unoment. “Good liars have changed the course of history, and done it bloodily. They’re a menace. I feel it in my bones that he’s just such a menace.” “Me, too.” Leaving Quinn, he stepped carefully along the fuselage, took the seat by Hansen, said to the saturnine agent: “We’re cross- ing the border.” He nodded toward the countryside beneath. “Another crime — illegal entry.” Hansen sniffed disdainfully. “That worries me. It’s sheer de- fiance of authority. It’s naughty.” His eyes keened at the other, “Why did you dump your heart throb?” “I wanted her out of the way on our last lap. We’re gambling — win or sink. I won't risk her sink- ing w'ith me. So she’s taking a letter to Gregory telling him what has happened so far, and what we’re aiming to do. He can work out his best moves from that.” Rumina- tively, he paused, added. “What’s of most importance, though she doesn't realize it, is that I’ve got her out of the way before the end comes.” “The end ?” “The end of this cliase.” .Hansen said, “Oh!” and looked mystified. In front, Quinn gave the radio another whirl. A brassy blare came forth; “Skkldin’ With My Shiver- Kid.” With a pained expression, he switched to another band, got the tail-end of a talk on the in- ternational situation. ASTOUNDINC SOIEXCE-FICTION

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. and in themselves the peo- ples of these countries do not want war any more than we want war. Like us, diey have troubles enough and desire nothing better than to be left to solve their own problems in peace. Like us, they believe in the four freedoms.” The speaker’s voice liardened. **These are their natural instincts, . the instincts of little people who want to be left alone. But when they are not permitted to exercise their natural instincts, when their every channel of information is poisoned at its source so that they are hopelessly misled about the sentiments and intentions of their n^rest neighlx>rs, when they are forced to live in a false and illusionary world which constantly is depicted to them as murderously hostile, then eventually may they be persuaded to run amok, sword in hand, willing to die in de- fense of a way of life which has never been threatened. Reluctantly, regretfully, with heavy heart but powerful hand, we, too, sliall then be compelled to draw the sword to protect all 'those things which we hold dear. There is no other way out, no other alternative. We must be prepared to fight — or be pre- jxired to die!” Cutting off the radio, Quinn twisted around in his seat, pulled a face at’ Armstrong. The latter turned and’ looked at Womcrsley glowerii^ two seats behind. Armstrong said to Hansen: ‘‘That speaker was right, of course, rd say w^’.ve more sane ones in this country than anywhere else, but that won’t keep, us out of tlie re- .I>UEAT>Flir. SANCTV’ARy suiting melee once the rest of the world’s lunatics stampede.” - . ”It might be better if the darn^ world did go haywire,” suggest^ Hansen. ‘‘Everyone would then be far too busy to bother about small fry like us — the F.B.I. and the cops would have bigger game to pursue.” “You don’t mean tliat. I know you don’t mean it. You wouldn’t wreck the planet just to insure that you became one of the forgotten.” “No, I reckon I wouldn’t. Ulti- mately I might find myself in a worse fix — a wandering savage, maybe.” His dark eyes were medi- tative. “You know that as a nation we aren’t a warmon^ring crowd. We’re not tlie kind to spill blood and gloat over it. Collectively, we’re of a type which enables the President and Gregory and their supporters to have a better chance of keeping things cool than they’d have anywhere else iii the world. If an3rthing starts, it won’t be us who starts it. Perhaps it’s because we’re a little less loony or a little more sane than they are elsewhere.” “Perhaps,” Armstrong admitted. “I know that you’ve got some plan on your iiiiiid,” Hansen con- tinued, “and I don’t doubt that it’s so nutty tliat even the world’s im- beciles will know you’re mad — and what beats me is how you hope to influence them. In America you can summon more plain, ordinary common sense to your side than , you could dig up any place else, i)ut what good will it do if you can’t cut the ground from under millions of other lunatics? When 1»A

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£^1;^ i^iupede, boy, it’s going to be ’^iic rash!*^- ‘ ■^"Once when I was a kid I saw i-herd of cattle panic,” Armstrong said, reminiscently. “About four hundred of them. Black ones, brown ones, white ones, piebald Qtes; -some with long horns, some wdth short. Cattle* of all kinds. Th^ milled around, set their heads the- same way, charged off hell-bent for they knew not where. They thtmdered two hundred yards to a narrow bend, turned it, found two cussing cowpokes fighting like maniacs right in their path. They riowed down, milled a bit, slowed more, then stopped. Finally they stood around the fighters and watched the battle. By the time it was over they’d forgotten what started them on the run.” His elbow dug Hansen gently in the ribs. “Spectacular diversion, see?” Hansen said : “Uh ?” ' “Then the boys tuyned up, urged the steers back to their pasture. Soon the birds were twittering in the trees and all was' tranquil once more.” He called to Quinn : “Where are we, George?” . “Over Peace Rh^er. Not much longer ’to go.” “Peace River,” he said to Han- sen. “Do you believe in omens?” The 'suii had become a ball of flaming orange low in the west when e^'entually Quinn called him forward. He. stared through the transpex, his face intent, bis pulse beating heavily. Yellowknife lay dimly in the dis- tance a few degrees to starboard. Beneath, copper colored by the set- ting ;sun, sprawled the glistening area of the Great Slave Lake. To one side reared the Horn Moun- tains, tipped with snow sun-tinged a bright red. Th^ jetted arrowlike across the. lake between Yellowknife and Providence, followed its northward arm toward Rae. This kept th^ free for a while of direct observa- tion from the ground. Gaining height before they r^ched the shore, they made a wide sweep east, then south, eventually found the railroad-spur running from Yellow- knife-to Reliance. The rocket as- sembly plant stood on this spur twelv€' miles east of Yellowknife. Approaching from the north, they permitted themselves only the briefest glimpse of the plant. One snatch of recognition was sufficient, and Armstrong snapped quickly : “That’s. the dump!” Quinn prompt- ly turn^ his plane around, dropped it earthward in a direction away from the plant. They came down to two hundred feet, spent a quarter of an hour zigzagging over dan- gerously craggy terrain before find- ing a suitable landing place. Ex- pertly, Quinn dropped the machine on a. half-mile flat, let it trundle to a stop. The assembly plant was now out of sight just over the southern horizon, while Yellowknife was barely visible to the w’est. Abandoning 'his controls with a sigh of relief,, Quinn stood up. stretch^ himself, exercised stiff muscles. .“Now to see whether we get a bang on the beak.” Opening the fuselage door, he studied the 139 ASTOUNT>T!Ca SCIENOB-FICTION

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darkening sky with wary eyes. “If there’s a radar lookout at that plant, and if it spotted us coming down, something will come buzzing over to examine us mighty sroon.” “I know it.” Armstrong squeezed jjast him, got out of tlic plane, stamped on the hard, cold earth. “But I still think luck is riding with us — and I want to play it to the limit, while, it lasts. Heck, we’ve been lucky even in that it had to be this time of the year — some other time all this would have been ten feet deep in snow.” One of Hansen’s men growled from his seat behind the soured and silent Womersley: “Right now I could do with being ten feet deep in hamburgers !” “Me, too !” indorsed the agent. Womersley licked his Ups moodily. “Tliere’s a big lunch box in the tail,” Armstrong told them. “It was put in at the skyport.” He .smiled as the hungry complainant dived from his seat toward the rear of the fuselage. • Quinn jumped down from the doorway, kept careful watch on the sky. The rim of the sun had now disappeared below the Horn Moun- tains and a pall of darkness was spreading from the east. The en- tire southern terrain was grim, silent, devoid of life as far as the eye could see, but there was a faint, primrose glow beyond the horizon where the rocket plant stood, and tiny twinkles of light were beginning to appear in Yellowknife, to the west. No planes came roaring through the twilight, intent on in- DRR.^nFUL SANCTUARY vestigating the grounded madiine. Either their cautious approach had passed* unnoticed, or suspicions had been lulled when they’d turned away. Bearing a load of sandwiches, Hansen got out of the plane, handed some to the others, munched witli them while he observed the onward creep of night. He shivered, spoke around a mouthful of food. “If this is the far north, give me Miami 1” He looked inquiringly at Armstrong. “Now we’re here — what next ?” “The remaining step is to take up one or both of those rockets — or die in the attempt,” Armstrong replied, slowly and thoughtfully. Hansen dropped a sandwich, picked it up, bit into it, dirt and all. He bit his thumb as wdl, swore, transferred the sandwich to his other hand. .He ate mechanically, like a man who hardly knows what he is doing. Twice he paused as if about to say something, clianged his mind, chewed hurriedly, swallowed with difficulty, “George, I was never more seri- ous in my life. You know the situation ; in every particular it’s de- signed to prevent any rocket getting some place external to Earth. That is the fundamental purpose of the whole set-up, and beside it all other purposes fade into insignificance. So un.scrupulous, so determined and so desperate are world-wide ma- chinations aimed at preventing any rocket from reaching the Moon that it makes obvious two very important points.” t«7

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*%M bn.” it tells- us that the saboteurs have satisfied themselves beyond all doubt that the latest types of rockets represent a stage of development where Moon-con- quest is in the bag — if the rockets aren’t tampered with beforehand. That’s something worth knowing, for thQr’ve got technical details not a^^ulaMe to us, and have some basis for judgment. Secondly, it also tdfe us that if— despite all their at- tempts to prevent it — one rocket does get to the Moon, it will? thus create a new psychic factor of such potency that world-circumstances will undergo radical alteration and the world-plot will collapse. It \vill collapse for the excellent reason that it will have been deprived of its prime purpose. The plotters will disperse, powerless and discredited, like end-of-the-world ciiltists when their long prophesied Day of Judg- ment fails to arrive. Their fanati- cs function has been to stop John Doe and Richard Roe from break- ing his bonds, stepping out of this world and into the cosmos.” His body loomed huge and bearlike in the gathering dusk. “So it’s iip to Richard to open the door! As I before, a rocket on the Moon is mate in one move!" Quinn protested: “I’ll give you all that, but how do we know those rockets are ready? And how do we know that they won't be shot off at the appointed time, without any help from us?” “Womersley blabbed under the schizophraser, when he was in no condition to tell lies. He simply had iss to tell the truth. He said that one rocket has been officially r^K>rted as r^dy for its test-flight. The other was then so n^rly prepared that it ought to be ready by now. Test- flights and resulting modifications and large dollops of snafu will waste another month or more. If the holocaust starts before then, you know and I know that those two ships will never take off for the Moon— they’ll be altered and blown somewhere else where they'll do plenty of damage. Moreover, just in case someone does get smart and tries tQ beat the plotters to the draw, the fuel coils have been fooled with. They’re slated to blow apart near the Moon.” “So we take ’em up and blow apart with them?” “Not with fuel for a thirty-thou- sand miles test flight also on board ! Not if we gamble on long odds and take them away without a test flightr • “Yes, ye gods!” admitted Quinn. “That’s true enough. If they take off untested, they’ll have a ten per cent fuel overload at the very least. A good margin! And if that ex- plosion point is set at a stage where the remaining fuel represents less than the overioad, the ship will have landed before its consumption reaches that point.” He flourished his hands in nervous excitement. “But what a risk! What a plaih, downright, lunatic gamble! Only the goofiest of galoots would try' it!” “I’m willing.” “Without a preliminary test flight we’ve no way of knowing ASTOUNDING SCIENCB-PICTION

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whether those boats are really fit to make the long trip. A hundred to one both of them will need modifi- cations of sorts to be discovered only in free flight. How the deuce can a solitary pilot do an engineer- ing job on his vessel when he’s lialfway to the Moon and going faster than zip? Besides, we don’t know precisely where that explo- sion point is. Suppose that it's timed for one hour after take-off — the extra fuel will do no more than postpone the big bang by five or six hours. It’ll occur just the same, and down will come cradle, baby and all!” “I told you the blowup is due near the Moon. It’s staged near the end of the fuel coil. The ship should go to blazes on the braking approach, about where most of the others busted. Womersley said so. llie extra test flight fuel ought to cover that margin three times over, in my opinion. As for going up without a test, there’s no alternative tliat I can see. If we leave those Ixwits alone, they’ll go their . own bureaucratic way, wasting weeks while they accord with officially pre- scribed formula, and eventually get- ting nowhere. Time is the critical factor. Time waits for no man — and the whole world is betting its collective life on a few potent hours, a few potent minutes. George, we have got to bounce those rockets higher than a kite — either that or we backslide through eternity!” ^‘}Ve bounce them?” __ Quinn stared around as if seeking a ghost. “'Who’s the other pilot?” V^Me.” Hansen J)olted a piece of sand- wich and said ; “Now I know this world’s a madhouse.” “Ob, youT Momentarily, Quinn was lost for words. Then he said : “What d’you know about piloting s|)acc rockets ?” “A fair amount theoretically, but niy practical experience doesn’t exist. It’s high time I learned. I’ll have to get it from you.” “Mother, listen to him!” “There are two rockets because they’re intended to go together,” Armstrong explained, patiently. “That means they’ll share a micro^ wave channel. Their pilots can talk to one another. You’re going to talk and tell me what to do.” “Boy, I can see myself! Let me tell you, you oversized hunk of stupidity, that handling a space rocket at take-off is worse than riding a drunken comet. Can you imagine me dinging desperately to the controls, juggling with hundreds _of tons going up like a bat out of hell, and calmly lecturing you how to do the same?” “Of course not. So I take off first, under your instructions — you’ll be telling me how. When either I’ve got safely away or have smeared myself over the bottom of a crater, you blow free. If I’m still running, it’s up to you to get within talking distance again — if you can.” “It’s abetting suicide !” Quinn declared, positively. “That’s exactly how I felt about you when I was concocting those gadgets for number eighteen. What makes you think you’re the only guy with a right to break his own neck ?” DltEADFUT. SANCTUAET 139

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ve-STr^^y*re both batty/’ opin^ Han- 'gloomily. *‘Batty and scatty, heavens there’s not a’ third «d fourth boat. You’d have me Rioting one and Miriam the other.” ' “I wish there were,” said Arm- strong. “Yqu'd be in them!” “That’s what you think ! I know I’ni sane without needing any psy- chotrons.to .tell me I” “Suppose that I refuse to' take in this crackpot scheme ?” Quiiln asked.^ ' “You’re our key-man. Without you we’re sunk. You know that, G^rge. But, sunk or not. I’d go tiy- it by myself. I’ve not come diis far merely to turn back.” “So you’d step in and snatch all my glory ?” Quinn wagged his head sadly. “What a friend, what a friend !” He looked up, grinning. “Not while I’m standing under my hair, you won’t !” He sobered, and went od, “For myself, I don’t care a hoot — if I did I’d never have been chosen for number eighteen. I don’t like the idea of you trying to handle the other boat. You’ll crush your thick, stubborn skull, and that will do you no good — and it’ll do no one else any good, either.” “Two chances are better than one, even if the second is amateurish and with greater odds gainst it.” “Yes, I know.” Quinn kicked a pebble viciously. “There are two fully qualified pilots somew'here in- side that assembly plant and there’s a tgpnotdi chance that they’re peo- ple I know and who know me. I think it would be wiser to get in touch with one of them and per- suade him to collaborate.” “A very good idea. Now tell me how we're going to search that place for A pilot without being pinched in the process, and . how we’re going to persuade him — ail be- fore dawn.” “Dawn?” Quinn gaped. “Are you thinking of taking off tonight?” “If we can get into those ships without mishap.” Solemnly, Quinn extracted from his pocket a heavy automatic which he’d acquired during the fracas at Singleton’s. Ejecting its magazine, he made sure that it was full, rammed it back into place, returned it to his pocket. “Give me another sandwich and I’m ready.” Hansen gave him one, s^d hoarsely to Armstrong : “Where do I feature in this daffy per- formance ?” “I want Miriam to guard Womersley and the maid until you return. I want you and the other man to help us bust into the plant and reach those ships.” “And after that?” “Beat it back here, if you can. You'll manage it, I think.- If one or both of those ships suddenly blow free, it’ll cause such a hulla- baloo that a dozen could march out of the plant without being noticed. When you get back here, collect the rest, make for Yellowknife, put a call through to Gregory, tell Wm everything you know, and leave it to him protect you. If one of us gets away safely, and makes it to the Moon, Gregory will be in a powerful position. He’ll be able <o 149 ASTOUNDING SCIENCP.-FTCTION

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vhiteWasil you so that your own mother won't know you.” “If this, if that and if the other,” said Hansen, with open skepticism. “What if you don’t blow free ?” “We’i! all be in the soup, and said soup will be red-hot.” His laugh was harsh. “We're in it al- ready, aren't we, so what's the dif- ference? This is our only out!” “You' win!” Hansen went to the plane, issued instructions to Mir- iam, came back with the other. No further words were spoken as the four tramped steadily toward the southward glow. A cold wind blew briskly across the rocky ground ; the sky was now devoid of any random gleam from the buried sun but brilliant 'starlight and a sickle Moon served^ to make clear their way. They were grim as they marched onward, each occupied with his own thoughts. The glow on the horizon grew stronger as they neared. The rocket assembly plant cov- ered considerable acreage, had a ten-foot h^h wire fence around it, and was patrolled on the outside by armed sentries. At one end of the huge compound lay the administra- tive buildings surmounted by a large flagpole on which no Hag could be seen by the shifting light of wind- tossed arcs ; at the other end bulked machine shFtII, SANCTn-^EY 141

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Q^jlheiEi. The onljr thing to do is tov jle^ wi^ a pair of them at a Of^er, just after they’ve stabbed ^ securi^ button. It’d take the others about ten minutes to reach the middle and find nobody to meet them, maybe another three minutes to race back to a corner gate and sound the alarm. That gives us say thirteen minutes to reach those ships and start climbing fast. It could be done easily to the nearest one. The farthest means an extra half- mile sprint. I reckon I can make it if nobody stops me in full gallop.” . “Stops you?” hissed Quinn, in low tones. “Who said you’re tak- ing the farthest one?” “My legs say, Shorty. They’re twice the length of yours.” Quinn emitted a disgruntled : “Humph I” “Let’s get round to that corner and snake up as near as we can get while those patrols are near the middle. We’ll give them time to prod the button, then rush them.” He grasped Hansen’s arm in the gloom. “See that those guys don’t utter a squeak after they've been ^downed. Sit on them ^ptil the other sentries start whooping — then beat it yourselves as fast as you can go. Don’t wait to see what happens to George and me — shift your dog^ as if you're after a million dollars !” Wraithlike, they stole through the shadows to the comer, waited for the sratries to near the middle, slipped to within twenty yards of the fence and lay flat among the boulders. Twenty minutes later the sentries returned. Armstrong watched them unlock the gate, press the button on the post. Decidedly those corner gates were weak spots, but for the double locks needing two keys they might have been able to bust in without rushing anyone. The sentries came out, began to close the gate. Despite the cold wind his body was strangely warm as he arose, poised on his feet. That twenty yards seemed like fifty, and the pounding of his shoes on the hard rock sounded like warn- ing thunder. Someone was snorting besiv'e him, two more hammering noisily , to his left. The sentries were amazingly , slow of hearing; He’d got to wi^n jumping distance of one . of them before the fellow turned and blinked uncertainly into the darkness. He hit the sentry like a runaway elephant, knocking him flat. The other was still fid- dling with a key in the gate when Hansen and Quinn fell , on hini simultaneously. Armstrong didn’t wait. Living his victim to Hansen’s man, he re- versed the key, shouldered the gate open, grabbed Quinn, lugged him through. “Quick, George — take .the nearest 1” Lifting big, pistonlike arms to his sides, he hurled his great body along beneath the waving arcs. Quinn was five yards behind him when he passed the first rocket. No alarm yet had sounded, no voice had bellowed wamii^ly when Quinn reached the ladder and started scrambling up it like a scared monkey. The little pilot was talking to himself as he climbed. ASTOONDINQ SCIBNCE-PICTlOll

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“Ltt that lock be open 1 Let it not be fastened !” He glanced aside when fifty feet up, saw the dim outline of Arm- strong’s burly figure plunging on- ward in the distance. There were few peopfe about. Three men w'ere talking outside the administra- tive building apparently quite un- conscious of what was going on. Two more were standing under an arc a hundred yards away and star- ing bemusedly after the running Armstrong. From a large steel building to . the north came sounds of music and much laughter. A camp concert. Quinn spat down- W'ard, continued to climb rapidly. Two men in gray denims were passing the base of the second rocket as Armstrong raced up to it.' They gaped at him, blinked uncer- tainly, gaped again. With delayed ~ presence of mind, one of them stepped into his path. “Hey, you, what’s the hurry ? What d’you think you’re — ?’’ Armstrong handed him a liay- niaker. The fellow arced backward under the pow’erful blow% his feet leaving the ground. Armstrong whirled sidewise, swerved and ducked elusively before the other man, found that the fellow’s -Startled confusion had made him easy meat. Giving him no time to gather his wits, he laid him out like a corpse, scrambled frantically up the ladder. Hell broke loose as he reached - the thirteenth rung. A chorus of enraged shouts and several shots sounded beyond the fence. Pink gouts spurred in the distant darkness and something whined shrilljf'* off ' the administrative building’s ste^ roof. The three talkers outside df it promptly, dropped and scrambled' for safety on all fours. He was twenty rungs higher when a great number of auxiliary lights flooded the entire camp and an alarm gong began its clamor. Now halfway up, he continued to climb in brilliant illumination. At one corner of the assembly station a thirty-inch searchlight shot its beam skyward, lowered it, swung it over surrounding terrain.. The shooting had now ceased. Men, shouting and gesticulating, were pouring from the main doors of the concert building. “ Fiye more, two of them bearing automatic rifles, raced at top speed past the base of the rocket without looking upw’ard. The two he had bowled over had now regained their feet and were gazing after the five runners. He was gasping for breath and still striving to increase the speed of his dimh. The thought that the lock might prove to be fastened did not occur to him. ‘Neither did he remember that one of the rockets might not be ready, or ponder whether this were the one. Two things only filled his mind. One was the thought of a clot; if, un- known and unsuspected by^^im, he had a dot, this would pump it into his heart. A black-wrapped mind, a failing grip, legs devoid of strength, and a sudden fall would be the first and only indication. His other worry was that someone with a rifle might look up, see him I>EE.iDFUL S.4NCTUAnY 148

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him down like a plugged -Eight more men, all armed, past die bottom of his bidder arid toward the fence. The t#h at the foot made up their minds and ran after them. Obvi- ously they had not seen him jufnp the ladder. The searchlight swung right rtmnd, its beam passing directly over him, spotlighting him for a 'second like a trapeze artist in a circus.^ Still he was not noticed. All attention remaine3 on that far fence. A second searchlight opened up, then a third. Twenty mcw'e rungs . . . ten . . . five. He shoved frtuitically at the closed door of the lode. It opened. Thankfully, he writhed through the small, circular hole. Tempor- arily he was out of sight of those bdow and - therefore out of mind. Unhitching the top of the ladder, he shoved it away, heard it clatter no^ily to the ground. Somier or later that would draw attention to the ship as nothing else had done. But getting him out now that he was in would be a tough task. In effect, he was in a vault, or a ^lindrical fortress. Gulping as he drew in great lungfuls of breath, he secured the door of the lock. Finding the pilot’s seat, he fas- tened hims^f in it, fixed the •head- phones on his head, pressed a stud marked: Intercom. The phones livened up. “You there, George?” he mur- mured into his lar>mx-mike. “Yes, Fm here.” “Can they hear us on this?” 144 “I don^t think SO. There’s a* stud marked : Grojtnd (m the board. That’s their ebannd. We’ve got one of our own, ter cut out inter- ference.’- Quinn paused, then said : “You were a deuce of a time! thought you’d failed to make it.” ■ “Time goes mighty slow when you’re waiting and jumpy — ^likc at the dentist's.” He coughed, en- joyed ' deep breaths. “All right, Geoi^e-r-Fm ready. Start talkii^.” “Take it easy and keep cool,” ad- vised Quinn. “You could squat there for weeks and keep them at arm’s length. Blow your stern jets whervevw they come near and you’ll scald their feet off.” “I don’t w^nt to burn anyohe’s dogs. I’ve nothing against them. Say your piece and let me blast off.” “O.K.,” Quinn’s voice had a metallic timbre in the phones. “Lever on your right, marked : F J*., is the fuel-feed control. Move it one notch. Detonate with the red stud immediately in front of you. Your tubes will start blowing at miniratmi power and they’ll need a full two minutes to warm up. Watch the chronometer — it won’t be safe to give them any less.” Phlegmatically, Armstrong did as instructed. His foam-rubber seat began to quiver under him. The whole fabric of the v^sel de- veloped a rhythmic tremble fjrom end to end. 'Dust rose from the ground, obscured the observation port over his head. He could ima- gine la tremendous- sensatiem throughout the camp, with ‘much scurrying around, much bawling of ASTOUNDING SCIBNCE-PICTION

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hasty orders, but he could sec noth- ing, hear nothing. Quinn went on talking, his tones calm, even, unhurried. Armstrong lengthened the blast. His hands, his hair and the back of his neck were warm and wet when Quinn suddenly shouted, “. . . and for the love of heaven keep that swing-indicator centralized! Now — boost!'’ He rammed the control over to boost point. The ship produced an organlike and eerie moan, rose slowly, very slowly. The cloud thickened over the observation port. The moan grew louder and half a note higher. The ship seemed al- most to crawl through the cloud. Quinn was gabbling fifty to the dozen. ■‘Ignore the port. Ignore the sky. Keep your eyes on those in- struments. Correct the side-swings. Don’t let her drift away from the perpendicular. Watch that swing indicator!” The sluggish upward creep ceased all of a sudden, and the vessel in- creased speed perceptibly. It rose faster, faster. It was going up like an elevator. It was going up like a jet hghter. It was going up like a rocket I In the phones, Quinn’s voice be- gan to fade gradually as he con- tinued : “Keep her going that way. Ibon’t reduce power on any stern- pipe. Maintain the full blast. Watch that swing!” He stopped, then his voice returned very weak- ly, “Can you still hear me, John ?” “Only just.” “All right. My turn now. I’m taking off.” Silence for a long time. Arm- strong sat heavy -pressed in^iis seat while the ship sliuddered and moaned. He kept his whole atten- tion on his instruments, avoided looking at the increasingly brilliant glitters in the sky. The swing indicator registered a two degree tilt. He corrected it by swift angling of the stern-stream stabilizer vanes. ( Gradually the tilt came l)ack, slid to three and a half degrees. He corrected it again with an oA crboost on the appropri- ate tubes. The ship, ran straight for a while, resumed its tilt. He compensated once more. After a full hour, Quinn’s voice speared into the ether. ‘’Are you with me, John? I’m up, way up. Can you hear me?” Silence while the moments crawled by, then, sharply: ‘‘John, can you hear me? Are you still running?^’ A long lull, followed by: “I can’t see you, John, \^'hat’s the matter? For Pete’s sake don’t start acting funny at this time! If you can hear me, come back, will you? John . . . John ... are you all right? Are you still moving? Have 1 got this ... all to myself?” Nothing re- sponded, nothing. The .steady moan of his own ship was the only de- tectable sound in the whole of cre- ation. Finally, Quinn said, “Oh, heavens!” His -voice vanished from the ether as he released his stud and closed the channel. XVH. I.eaving the telephone. General Gregory marched restlessly up and ORKAnFT'T- 8.4NCTUART 145

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lus carpet. Seated in a deep ; “That was Hansen. Whether I ^ clear him and his aides — and all the others for that matter — de- pends entirely on what happens .next. Senator Womersley is the crux my problem; Womersley and the mob he represents both in diis country and out of it. If he chooses to make yet more trouble, K is likely, he ' can make plenty. He and his tribe can make more than 1 can cool down despite the support given me by the President and certain influential members of die government. This Norman gang is all over the place, and our jurisdiction doesn’t extend every- where. That makes things tough.” He gnawed his mustache savagely. “But if this crazy venture of Arm- strong’s comes off, well, Womers- ^’s crowd won’t be able to find hiding-places -quickly enough. Arm- strong, Quinn, Hansen and the rest automatically would be cleared. World opinion would demand it.” He looked at her, smiled reassur- ii^ly. “No matter what laws may say, or how they may be written, public heroes cannot be burned at the stake. There are times when the law must give way to expediency — because the people say so, with >ne voice!” “What did Hansen say?” she asked. “He’s in the calaboose at Ydlow- knife along with his secretary and <uic of his men. Womersley is stamping around breathing fire and 14S fury and reciting a long list of charges against all and sundry. Womersley w<m’t like it when he finds I’ve got Hansen out and have ordered a i^^ne to bring him here.” “What did he say about the rocketships ?” she persisted. “They got aWay.” “Is that all ?” “Isn’t that enough, young lady?” She nodded reluctantly, “t sup- pose it is. Can’t we find out what has happened to them? Are they really on their way, both of them? How far have they got? How soon' shall we know whether — ?" “As soon as I can learn anything definite. I'll tell you.” he promised. “But surely we should know something by now ? They've been gone fourteen hours. They should be about a third of the way there if — ” She stopped, her egression pathetic. “If they’ve been lucky,” he fin- ished for hn. “There is nothing on the newscasts and won’t be any- thing unless it’s too spectacular to suppress. Those rockets were rather secret, see? Admittedly, how secret has become a matter of con- siderable doubt, but for reasons of high policy we don’t want to ad- vertise them before it is necessary.” “Don’t the observatories* know how they’re progressing?” “What the observatories know they will keep to themselves until it becomes something well worth idling. All news will be withhdd as long as possible. That’s just in case we're unfortunate and have two flops dumped in our lap — ASTOONDINO SCIBKCB-FICTION

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a anall chance tliat they’ll pass tinmendoned, unnoticed.” She ; regarded him levelly, her discontent obvious. “Would it matter if the public knew that those two. men had tried and failed r” “In present difficult circum- ^tances^ I’m afraid that it might matter a great deal. Some of our jingoists would be swift to blame foreigners for the disaster, and their foreign prototypes would recipro- cate by whipping up more antago- nistic feelit^s against us suggesting that b^use we built in secret we had an ulterior and probably treacherous motive. There may be even an organized outcry against the completion of number eigliteen in New Mexico. All is grist to the prop^nda ifliU when the war gods jwe sharpening their swords. When worid-widc hysteria mounts steadily it is because those unseen forces manipulating international channels ^ opinion' are utilizing every cir- ^cumstance and craftily exploiting . to Hie utmost.” He resumed ^iiis restiess pacing on the carpet. “The world is a powder barrel with p^ple prancing around it waving lighted candles. It's taking all we’ve got to postpone the big bang, and eventually it may come some- where else in spite of us. Only the attention-diverting roar of rockets on the surface of the Moon can diange the situation. Arm- strong was right in that supposition, though sometimes I suspect him of being as mad as anyone.” Ceasing his pacing, he faced her. "Call it insanity, stupidity, sm obsession, or plain, ornery pigheadedness— h’s in- spiring and not without a certain amount of Ic^c. He is trying to counter madness with madness, like fighting fire with fire,” “That was one of the arguments Horowitz gave me — who is to say what is rational and wliat is not ?” she commented. “Docs the end justify the means, or tlie means the end ?” “Horowitz!” he scoffed. “Al- ready it has been discovered, that he was bom in Linz — ^and Linz isn’t on Mars!” His mustache bristled as he added, “And we’ve a shrewd notion of what we’ve yet to dis- cover— that he’s a nc\ver, craftier, more inventive version of Hitler, the self-appointed messiah of a re- vived Germania.” She consulted her watch. “The noon newscast should be on the air- now. Could we Ifbar it?” General Gregory flipped the Wall switch, watched the screen glow to life. He was a little late, for the announcer was partway through his newscast. . . from Concepcion, bound for Wellington, radioed that an im- mense rocket descended from a clear sky at dawm, at bearings given at 37 SOS by 80 OW, this being about three hundred miles south of the island of Juan Fernandez, better known as Robinson Crusoe’s Is- land. The Southern T rader re- ports that the object swept into a shallow curve which caused it to strike the sea at a tangent. Rico- cheting like a flipped stone, the al- iped rocket skipped across the sur- face of the ocean at tremendous I4t ▲BTOUNDINO BCIBNCE-PICTION

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pace ajid eventually disapp^ti^ over the southeast horizon/* Fin- ishing that item, he staried with: “An uproar at this moming*s meet- ing" of the new Pah-Europ^n League resulted when M. Pierre Dieudonne, the French — ” Claire Mandle was standing up, her hands clasping and undasping. Stony-faced, Gregory switched off, turned to the phone. He was on it some time, puttii^ through five calls. Finally, he turned to her, faced her questioning eyes.’ “The Southern Trader^s report came in only twenty minutes ago. It should have been..kept off the air. Somebody blundered — or someone is being awkward. Anyway, noth- ing more is known except that the Chilean Government is investigat- ing. One of our carriers, the Jef- ferson, is at Valparaiso. It has been ordered south to search the area.” “Then, you think — ?” i . He nodded gravely. afraid that one of them is down. There’s no point in deluding ourselves with false hopes, my dear. It’s almost certain that one of them is down.” “Which one?” she said. “Oh, if on^ we knew jvhich one!” Her look at him was appealing. “And if only we knew about the other.” “All in good time.” He patted . her shoulder with fatherly confi- dence. “A little waiting, and the rainbow comes!” “Can’t we do- anything?” “No more than we’re doing now.” He led her toward the door, “Go out, have a l6ok around the shops, buy yourself a pretty hat. Forget ORRADFTTL SANCTUARY all about this for another four hours. No amount ing will make the slightest ' diff^- ence. As soon as news 'e^^mes through, I’ll phone you.” She left, for an hour wahde'red aimlessly around. Her eyesdoolted at shop windows without seeing what was in them. Buy: yourself a pretty hat — tomorrow pretty haltf may not -be there to buy. futile ! Which one was dovm, teen or twenty ? Who was its pilot ?•' Where was the other boat, and who was piloting that? • v. She couldn’t stand it any IcMiger^ Hastening to her hotel, she q>eiit a fruitless afternoon waiting by the news recorder. And all evening. And half the night. There was still no news with the dawn radio- cast, no real news. Heavy rioting inr Afghanistan, massacres in India, fighting on the Turco-Syrian border, a mystery explosion in the naval port of Fefrol, Spain. But no news about rockets — nothing. Is no news good news? Or bad news? Or even what it purports to be, namely, news ? Gr^ory*s promised phone call drew her eagerly from her break- fast table at precisely nine ©’dock. “A stratosphere jet plane is waiti- tng for you at the skyport, my dear,” he told her. “It will take you to New Orleans. You will find some of your friends already on board. Take a taxi and get there just as fast as you can.” , “But, general, why — ?” He had cut off. A quick utter- ance of vvords, amd he’d gone. She gazed at* the phone, a little dazed

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by events, then moved fast. Doing little more than snatch up her hat and handbag, she was out of the hotel and into a taxi in short time. The three awaiting her in the plane were Hansen, Miriam and Bill Norton. The latter helped her as she entered breathlessly, and the plane took off immediately. Hansen grinned at her. ‘‘Quite a welcoming committee, aren't we ?” “I don’t know a thing. What iias happened ?” “We got in from Yellowknife, under escort, late last night, had a long talk with Gregory and the F.B.I. This morning, they dug us out, rushed us here. Gregory thinks that for the next few hours we’d be safer some place else. Hav- ing said all there is to say, we’ve become a liability — so we’re going with you and Norton.” “Going where?” , “To meet Armstrong,” Norton put in. He had the expansive air of one well satisfied with life. “Didn’t General Gregory tell you that?” “Then he’s safe? He’s not hurt ?” “He’s a bit damaged, and maybe his dignity is hurt,” said Norton, offhandedly. “Beautiful women will find him even more repulsive than he used to be. Otherwise, he’s all right.” “Thank goodness !” she breathed. Norton raised an eyebrow. “He’s not such a. bad ape,” he conceded, weighing her up, “despite that he’s so big and so stupid.” He expanded his cTiest. “Gregory is permitting him to talk to one reporter only — all others warned off. Armstrong nominated me. That’s friendship. He doesn’t forget old friends.” “No, I suppose not,” she mur- mured, her mind in a whirl. “And I hope he continues to re- member them in the future,” Nor- ton added, ix)intedly. He eyed her again. “Can you cook ?” She was taken aback, “Cook? Can I cook ?” “Steak smothered with button - mushrooms, and stuff like that*” He licked his Ups. “Of course.” “That’s fine,' That’s real fine.” He patted his stomach. “I see no reason to withhold my approval.” Hansen and Miriam swapped significant glances, and the latter said to Norton : “That’s mighty white of you, Roderick.” “The name is not Roderick,” Norton reproved, glowering at her. Claire put in : “Just what has hap- pened to John? Why are we going to New Orleans?” “They’re flying him there,” Nor- ton told her. “As I’ve got it, he skidded across half the Pacific Ocean and thumped into Chile, wrecking his ship and distorting his own profile at the same time. Planes from one of our carriers found him. We should be in New Orleans about an hour ahead of him, and will meet him when he lands.” “I see.” Peeking through the window, she watched the landscape rolling far below. Her thoughts were elsewhere. _ Hansen said : “Well, that’s one 130 ASTOUNDING SCIENCB-UrCTION

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llo{^ Maybe Qainn’s aaother, •Mte place far from the beaten trad^ and — ** “What's Quinn doing?” Norton demanded. His eyes were sharp and curious. “I thought the cops wanted him. I thought he was on the run. What’s he up to now?” “Don’t you know?” “Would I be asking you if I did?” “Then I wont tell you,” Elansen said, easily. Leaning .sidewise, Norton scowleji at him and spoke between set teeth. “Come on — give ! What’s all this about Quinn?” Stud3ring him calculatingly, Mir- iam baited him with: ‘*What is it worth? Is it worth a mink?” Waving outraged hands, Norton argued with her #h3e Haases grinned sardonically and Clake cen^ turned to gaze absently throft^ the window. The argument was s\4U in full swing and had become slight- ly acid when the plane touched down at its destination. The navy courier arrived ninety minutes later. With jets spouting long-columns of mist, it hit the> run- way, trundled to a stop. Armstrong w'as first out. He limped awkwardly down the ladder, his left arm in a slings his beefy face crisscrossed with strips of plaster, a heavy bandage around his head. His hair stuck out of the bands^ in a weird fringe of spikes. His smile was lugubrious and lop- sided as he met them, and . the FANTASTIC FICTION FOR SALE PART I — MAGAZINES • ASTOUNDING— 1931-1947— Almost any Usae S1.00each • UNKNOWNS— 1940.1943-VAlmost any issue 1.00 each • AMAZINGS— 1937-1940— Alt copies in stock 1.00 each • " -1941-1947— All copies at 50 each • WONDERS— 1930.1947—All copies at .50 each • WEIRDS— 1934 1947— Most all copies in stock 1.00 ea<* • F.F.M.— F.N.— 1939-I947- All copies l.OO each • TALES OF WONDER— English Fantasy. . 1.00 each • SPECIAL— Any copies of following magasines at 50^ each — Startling, Fantastic Adv., Comet, Ptan^ Captain Future. Super Science, Astonishmg, Magic Carpet, Marvel, Strange Storiea, Thrilling Wonder, Cosmic Stories, Stirring Science. PART II — FANTASTIC FICTION IN BOOKS 1. Star of the Uitbom — ^Wecfel Jl.OO 16. Forbidden Garden — Taine .S3.00 2. Camekan Cnbe — Pratt & OeCatnp. • 3.00 3. Wko G^t There Campfadl 3.00 4. Beyond Thie Horiton — H^ein . . . 3.00 5. Sinister Barriers — E. F. Russell. . . 3.00 6. BUKk Flame — Weiidiaum 3.00 7. Black IFheef-Merritt 4.00 8. For fFontan — Merritt 4.00 9. Book of Ptath — Vogt $3,001 ah a lO.Onl Unftnwn— Vogt. 2.50 1 ll.Nfit*-Vogt 2.5oL/" 17. Edison’s Conquest of Mars 2.50 IS. Skylark of Space— E. Smith- Autographed - ....3.00 19. Spaceh^nds of J.F.C.— E. E. Smith — Autographed 2.00 20. Skntt Face and Others — Howard 5.00 21. Promiss of Air — Blackwood 1.00 22. Hercules, My Shipmate— Gnrcs.,. 1.00 22. Lepton ^ .S'pace— Williamson...... 3.00 12. H'erU tvA—Voat’.'.y.'.'.'.'. 24, House on the Bord^and — Hbdg^. 5.00 13. Fissai Buchm^Habbard 3.00 25. E. R. Burroughs Martian,. Venns ' 14. Land of Unreason — Pratt 2.50 15. Triplanetary— E. E. Smith 3.00 Series ea. 1.00 26. Orphan of Ettmity — Heinik^ 1.00 PART III — CIralce of AMY ItMi Below FREE— WMi Yew Ordw of and Ovw 1. Ship of Ishtar — F.N. Versiim. 2. 1941 Yearbotrfc of Fantasy & STF. 3. Star of the Un- hocn— Wer^ 4. Any Copy Amasing, Wonder HtiP-XSiS. S. Hmules, My Shipmate— Gtavet, IULIU8 UNGER «401 — 24tli Avenue, BROOKLYN 4, N. Y, . IBl dreadful sanctuary

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ou tliat side of hi^ features. “This is .what’s left,” he an- nounced. “Worn but still serX’ice- able.” . He took Claire’s cool, slen- der hand in his huge’ paw. “Didn’t expo^ to find you Ifere, Pixie, Who iuranged it — Gregory?” nodded, looking at him and saying nothing. Sniffing the air, he gazed around appreciatively. “Though I' say it myself, it’s good to be back in tile madhouse. Let’s go some place where; we can eat as well as talk.” Callup a taxi, he helped Claire into it, cHtnbed after her with one or two painful grunts. Seated at a table, with Hansen and: Miriam listening intently, Claire watching him slant-eyed, and Nor- ton, busily scribbling, he said; “I’m sprt; of on {Kirole until they learn wh^ Quinn’s got to. If he lias failed, th^ won’t be able to pincli me fast 'enough ! I’ve Gregory to ^laplc for these few, hours of free- dom. and -peace— I'll have George to diank if I stay free. It . all depends on him.” “You did your best,” Claire com- forted. “Maybe I didn’t do so bad. Maybe I stopped George picking the wrong ship., I got a wobbler. It ivasn’t quite ready, and I picked it. That was the point where my luck ran out I don’t know what was wrong. It seemed like a couple of tubes hadn’t been fitted with linings. Tliey held up for less than a couple of hours before they burned out. 1 turned into a huge parabola.” He rubbed one side of hts face, winced visiWy. ‘’ lliat brought me neii- busting for the South Pacific with my heart trying to squeeze itself between my cars. I guess I could never have been torched by Sandy- hair and his gang. The capers I’ve indulged would have pump^ a clot ten times around my^ system by now. I thought I was a goner in any case.” “You're reserved for the hang- man,” Norton assured. “Garry on.” “I managed to blow her into a shallow curve just before she struck. She whacked the sea with her belly and hopped like a kangaroo. By heaveiis, she must have covered about four hundred miles in gigantic, ten-mile leaps! In the end, she wallo'ped an island off the Chilean coast, smiting it so liard that she slid right up the beach and dug her nose into the sandhills. I tried to embed myself in the con- trol panel. I waited for someone to hand me a harp, but after a while some planes came zooming around and a gang of navy boys broke in and lugged me out” Picking up his cup of coffee, he sipped it awk- wardly but with gusto. “RaJeon that’s where ray lude came up with one final spurt. I’m the luckiest guy on this crazy planet!” Norton said: “You never did know the difference l^tween being lucky and being downright buU- he^ed! Now what’s this stuff about Quinn? Where is he?” “Yes, George,” Armstrong mur- mured, his tones low, anxious. “Now that I’ve made a mess of it, he’s our last bet. If he’s sunk. ASTOUNDING SCIBNCE-PICTION

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we’re all sunk. *.But if he mak^ it, and liv« to say so, it’ll prove be- yond all shadow of doubt that this Martian claptrap is a lot of neo- Nazi hooey.” “Prove it ?” Norton looked dis- satisfied. “You bet! Look, sonny, if as these Normans assert, a gang of Martians have been visiting this world repeatedly for centuries, you can accept one certainty— that they maintain an outpost on the Moon. There are good technical reasons for that,, as well as strategic ones. If Martians are on.^he Moon, they’re going to button the lip of.. the first guy who lands there. So if anyone lands and talks — there aren’t any Martians ! You couldn’t have proof more conclusive!” His bothered gaze wgnt to the great clock on. the wall, noted that it said four-thirty. “We ought to have heard of him by this time. If he’s down, he may be unidentifiable, or the news of his Clash has been suppressed, or he’s busted himself some place far from anywhere.” His fingers started tapping nervously on the table. “1 wish we knew, one way or the other.” “Perhaps he’s still going,” sug- gested Claire. “I like to think so, but it’s not probable because he ought to have made it by now. His flight-dura- tion is such that if he hasn’t reached there yet, he’ll never get there.” “Get where?'* yelped .Norton, al- . most beside himself. “Is this half- pint Quirni up ia» another rocket? Where did he obtain the darned thing? How many rockets are float- DBEADFUL SANCTUARY

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ai^ 'around? .If you took up number ei|:hteeh and converted it into scrap, hoyrthc deuce did Quinn — ?” A big wall-recorder interrupted hini/ Its huge screen lit up, flick- ered wildly, cleared, revealed massed military bands. The recorder’s matdied loud-speakers blared forth a rousing air. Automatically, every- one stood up,- heads erect, shoulders squared. Armstrong arose beside Claire, stood with all his weight on one foot, his hand supporting him against the table. Norton was erect as if on parade, a puzzled expres- ' sion on his features. Hansen looked serious. Miriam was appre- hensive. Something special coming. Massed bands, and the flag under uniformed escort, and the sounding of the anthem. Prelude to war.? The dour warning, the appeal to '‘unity, the affirmation of aims? Something very special coming ! The inarching bands faded out of •the screen as the tune ended with a martial flourish of trumpets. An anouncer loomed large. Everyone sat dowui, nervously, attentively. The announcer for once had lost his suavity and sang-froid. There were i»pers in his liand, and the hand was shaking slightly but visi- bly. “Emergency news bulletin,” he enunciated. . “Forty-seven minutes, ago, for the first time in human history, a voice -spoke to us from our satellite the Moon ! It was the voice of G«)ige Vincent Quinn, an American citizen, and the official pilot of rocket number nineteen which took off from a secret start- ing-point and reach^ its destination iti the amazing time of thirty-eight hours, eleven minutes!” Claire felt the powerful grasp of Armstrong’s heavy fingers on her wrist. Her eyes were shining. His were fixed with* burning intensity on the screen. “Quinn’s vessel does not bear fuel sufficient for a return journey, •but Washington experts state that it is now a comparatively simple matter to send a robot-piloted vessel which Quinn can land by remote control and from which he can ob- tain the necessary supplies. In- structions have already been issued that number eighteen, our rocket in New Mexico, be modified for auto- matic operation with all possible sj>eed, -and it is confidently expected that the vessel will be ready to take off within seven weeks. M^nwhile, Pilot Quinn has all the facilities needed to preserve life for six months.” Glancing at his papers, and obvi- ously agitated by the importance of the occasion, he continued: “Ama- teur radio stations, picking up Quinn’s calls, were first to dissemi- nate this epoch-making news which already is electrifying the civilized world. Messages of congratulation have started to arrive from foreign governments and from a host of in- dividuals. Some of the former were accompanied by offers of partly-con- struct^ rockets suitable for swift conversion to relief vessels. Com- menting on these offers, Columnist Henry Coultliard says in his cur- rent review of affairs, ‘Yesterday, ASTOUNDING SCIBNCK-PICTION

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«e were betog threatened with nckets by all and sundry. Today, we’re being offered them as gifts, freely, willingly, by people quick to realize that ?he world has changed beyond recognition in a few tremen- dous minutes. The scientific worth •f Pilot Quinn’s triumphant Moon- trip is as nothing to the psychologi- cal value thereof. The trumpet of peace has been sounded effectively — in a distant and lonely crater !’ ” Armstrong said, softly, reverent- ly : “Good boy ! I’m glad he made it. It was meant for him,, and not for a ham like me. It was George’s job right from the start.” “Further information will be broadcast as it comes through, but” — the announcer made a dramatic gesture— “before we go on to the next item we bring yoe the of Pilot Quinn speaking from Moon !” . ' The screen blanked. The speakers coughed, emitted scratch- ing noises, spoke harshly through a haze of static. - . am getting your strength five . middle of Copernicus ... undamaged. Will blow flare port side . . . half an hour’s time.’* . ; A long, noisy pause, followed bjr, “Glad he’s safe. Tell him . . bigger they come the harder . . fall.” The distorted voice and tlie static cut off abruptly. The announcer came back. “The last part was a reference to John J. Armstrong, official pilot of Quinn's companion rocket number twenty which made WHO GOES THERE? By JOHN W. CAMPBELL, Jr. K — seven of the best stories by Astounding's great editor .... with a special introduction by the author himself .... beautifully bound and with a full-color jacket .... a Shasta publication . ... IS THE JULY SELECTION OF— C.O.D. Orders CANNOT be Accepted JOIN NOW by buying from The Fantasy Guild this superb book. Membership means: A free dividend book for every three regular selections you purchase; you receive free the monthly club bulletin of reviews; you buy only those books you want! SBND $2^00 TO— THE FANTASY GUILD Box 5144 San Francisco 1, Calif. DREADFUL SANCTUARY 153

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;f breed landi% off the coast of ’ South America. Armstrong, recent- ly listed as a public enemy, is now revealed as having been engaged on highly Gonfidenttal work under com- mand of General Gregory, and the F.B.I. has amiomiced that all calls ,for him have been withdrawn.” Switching papers, he went on, “Working in concert, police and armed forces of several countries are raiding the haunts of an inter- national band, of saboteurs known as - the Norman Club who were fanatically opposed to rocketry and it is reported that — ” “Finish!” remarked Anfistrong, not listening any further. “They’ll eatch some, not others, but the es- capees will be impotent. Time has passed them by.” He massaged his jowls thoughtfully. “I hope they •don’it overlook any remnants of Sandy-hair’s mob, either. That crowd represented the inevitable ^hisfti which always occurs in a cult. Maybe they didn’t like Horo- witz. Or .maybe he overdid it with Ijis.psycbotron, convincing them that they were indeed mad Martians. Or more likely they had the monopoly of this newfangled coagu- lator, thought it made them the elite of the elite, fell out when they re- fused to hand over its secret to the rank and file.” He sighed remi- niscently. “History repeats itself. Horowitz had his enemies on his own territory^ — -just like Hitler. And like Hitler, he’s come to the end of the trail.” Hansen jerked a disparaging thumb toward the screen on which the announcer was still gabbling. “Wasn’t he sweet? He cleared your character absolut^y — but said nothing of mine.” “Nor mine,” supported Miriam. She mooned at her boss. “I’ve never been out of trouble since* I entered your employ. Some day. I'll get used to it, I guess.-” Grinning with the unplastercd side of his face, Armstrong said to Claire: “Do you dance?” “You can’t. Not with that leg,” she pointed out. “As the Man in the Moon said, the harder they fall. I’ve tumbled for keeps.” Impudently, he ate her wth' his eyes. She pinked a little. “My scoop!” moaned Norton, viewing them with disgust. “My scoop gets sholf to blazes — and you two have to sit and coo !” He wiped his lips with a handkerchief, making an insulting ceremony of it. “Pfah! you make me sick!” Leaning across the tafle, Arm- strong jibed: “Square roots, eh?” “All right, all. right — take her.” Norton waved an airy, disinterested hand. “I can find my own.” His sour stare shifted to Miriam, became speculative. “Do vou dance, Fair One?” Linking an arm through Han- sen’s, she thinned her lips, regarded him with distaste. “I read the papers— -and sometimes I wonder.” “Wonder what?” Norton invited. Miriam said, nastily: “How you *know you’re sane.” THE END 15t ASTOUNr>ING SCIENCE-.PICTION

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BRASS TAGKS s got an interesting question there — but the effect of cheap automobiles was comparable. Dear Mr. Campbell: Just for the sake of speculation- I wonder if any of your writers have thought about a story b^sed on the social effect of the so-called “Hopti-copter” ? According to re- ports they are to be mass produced in the very oear future. ' If a lot of people get to flying around as- free-as-the-birds, what might it do to the atmosphere of. the country in so far as the people are concerned ? Will it make people more indepen- dent or will it make them indolent and easy prey for totalitarian propa- gandist? The theme has possibili- ties has it not? Now few Ast. SCIENCE FIC- TION; 1. During 1947 you gave us the best covers in the maga- zine’s history. 2. During 4947 the mechanical form of the magazine was the best in .its history. 3. During 1947 the ititerior art work was equal to and sonw- times better than any previous work. 4. During 1947 the averse, intellectual and literary level of the stories was higher than ever before. Studies at the University of Ore- gon are my excuse for not com- menting on the stories in detail except to say that I should like to see you publish something like Van Vogt’s “Ship of Darkness” and his “The Cataaaa” in S.F. once in a while. Your readers surely must be brilliant enough to take it. ' — Rosco E. Wright, Rt. 2 Box 264 Springfield, Oregon. Toward the end of the war, as much as ten megawatts was being, gen- erated on pulses! Dear Campbell : I was very interested in J. J. Coupling’s article on the magnetron, the more so because Professor Randall — who with Dr. Boot in- BRASS TACKS

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vented the cavity magnetron — is my physi^)rofessor here at Kings Col- lege. in the lab we have a fine selection of maggies with outputs up to 2Y2 megawatts. (I can’t imagine any terrestrial application for the last one!) There was nothing chancey or particularly spectacular about the evolution of the magnetron in Pro- fessor Oliphant’s microwave^ group at Birmingham University — just the usual development once the original ideas had been worked out. Cer- tainly no one stuck a cathode in a revolver chamber to see what hap- pened. But I know how that story arose : a revolver barrel was used as 'a jig to make one maggie, as it happened to come out about the right size. Oddly enough, the Russians were tke first people to make cavity mag- netrons, years before we did. There’s a paper about it in the Proc. I.R.E. in the early 1940s. Some of the designs were strikingly like the , final Allied ones. But they were low-powered, c.w. jobs as far as I know and I don’t think the Russians realized just what they’d got.— Arthur C. Clarke, Kings College, University Of London, Strand, London, W.C.I., England. Null- A — and how it got that way. Dear Mr. Campbell ; r would like to answer the letter headed “Non-Sanity of the Non- Aristotelian System^" in the Brass Tacks ^ection of April Science Fic- ttsi tion, written by one Willis E. McNelly. Mr. McNelly questions the basic premises of non-Aristo- telianism — which is all right — but, apparently, he has a mistaken idea as to just what those basic premises are supposed to be. Mr. McNelly mentions that “contemporary math and physics is non-Euclidian and non-Newtonian” but “can we then assume that contemporary thinking or thought processes should neces- sarily be non-Aristotelian,” He has implied that this is the “logic”-slep which convinced Korzybski that* a formulation of a non-Aristotelian system was necessary. .-That is in- accurate. Alfred Korzybski, during the first world war, began to wonder at the tremendous gap between the successes of technology and the more human sciences, and at the psychological conditions of the world, in general. Bridges, air- planes, telescopes, and radios were being constantly improved upon and put into extended service; the sci- ences of physics, chemistry, as- tronomy, et cetera, were making tremendous strides forward, but human, cultural institutions were constantly being demolished in the faces of depression, booms, and wars; the general level of sanity was dropping rapidly. Korzybski decided that there must be some radical differences between the methods employed by the mathe- maticians, scientists, et cetera — as scientists . . . et cetera — and those employed in our personal and na- tional lives. Being familiar with those methods employed by the ASTOUNDING SC 1 K N C E -FI CTIO N

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former — be wks an engineer and mathematician — he decided to ac- quaint himself with the evaluational methods used in our private and national lives ; he studied psychiatry. In other words, having already studied the most successful known methods he was studying those em- ployed by the most unsuccessful — from an adjustment viewpoint — people; those inside our institutions for the ‘‘insane”. He discovered that the most outstanding factor in those unaiccessful methods was a habit, or trait, which he labeled “identification” — the unconscious identifying of words with objects. Now, every little child ^‘knows’* that the word “chair” is not the object to which it is applied, the one you sit down upon, and that the word “pain” isn’t that which you feel when somepne jabs you kd the seat 'with a but OMd adults included, continue to. act think as if they were. (Warmng: These statements are oversimpli- fied.) As Korzybski ^d — page Ixiv, preface, 1st edition, “Science and Sanity” — : “Identification is found in all known primitive peoples; in all known forms of ‘mental* ; ills; and in the great majority of per- sonal, national, and international maladjustments. It is important, therefore, to eliminate such a harm- ful factor from our prevailing systems.” My point on the foregoing, then, is this: Korzybski formulated a system of sanity, based on the denial of identification, and then applied the label “non- Aristotelian” to»it; BRASS TACKS

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he didn’t decide to create a so-called "nop-Aristotelian” system just to be contrary — he did not reverse the order of abstractions. For Reader McNelly’s informa- tion, the basic premiss of A arc two in number and negative in char- acter: 1) The word is not the object to which it is applied; and 2) There is no such thing as an object in absolute isolation from all other objects. The whole edifice of A “logic”, which is based mostly on formu- lations concerning structure and relationship arose from the second premise. If anyone is to disprove these ■two statements, he must show their falsity by demonstrating that the word is that to which it is applied and that there are objects in abso- lute isolation from all other objects. I’m fairly confident that none will do it. It is rather amazing the way your various writers have interpreted A and general semantics. Van Vogt interprets it, rather admirably, in the light of his favorite “Toward tlfe Superman” theme (World of A) ; Heinlein presents it as the science of propaganda’ (If This Goes On) the Kuttners speak, rather glibly of “semantic block- ages” (The Piper’s Son) and men- tion that Korzybski’s teachings are “only commonsense” (Fury!) ; Williamson implies that it is “a fad” (With Folded Hands — ) ; Grendon speaks of it in connection with mathematical logic (The Figure) ; and William Bade, an antireligion- ist, is apparently using it as a sub- stitute for religion (New Bodies For Old). As Mr. McNelly says, it is rapidly becoming stock in trade. W’liat you need, Mr. Campbell, are one or two competent articles on the subject.-wArthur Cox, 1203 Ingraham Street, I^os Angeles 14, California. Yes, we are now about a twenty minute ride outside the city, in Elizabeth, New Jersey. Visitors still welcome though! Dear Mr. Campbell: £ see that it pays to subscribe. Still a full week to go before the April issue of Astounding hits the newsstands, but mine came bright and early this morning. One of the first changes I see is the advertising that will later on enter the magazine. If it helps balance the books and at the same time give the SF bugs some information on where to get books, back numbers, et cetera. Pm game to see a few hundred words of the poorer works get cut out. .Another item of note is that ASF seems to have taken over offices in New Jersey. Must remember same come December 31st and the renew- ing of subscription. Another move I’d like to see is tliat of Mr. Bone- stell as a permanent artist sharing the spotlight with Rogers and Ale- jandro, especially with the latter. Well, here we go at rating the issue : AN LAB: 1, “He Walked Around, the Horses.” Piper. Originality ISO ASTOUNDING RCIBNCR-PICTION

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plus, but the matter-of-fact presentation detracted. 2. . . And S^rching Mind” (II) Williamson. Serial is de- veloping momentum as it pro- gresses. The conclusion should . be worth while waiting .for. 3. “Ex Machina.” Padgett. Finally connected Galloway (story no'. 1.) and Gallegher. (all other stories) but same old sil^uatioh'. 4. “The House Dutiful.” Tenn. He tried hard, but the tl^eme of animated 'houses Or radios (Twonkey, “Logic Named Joe”) doesn’t resonate with Hie. 5. “New Wings.” Chandler. Now it’s LiH that does it. I still think that Homo sapiens himself and not some chemical or meson will be the destroyer or savior our planet. COVER, ART; Wonderful. Mr. Bonestell and:Mr. Alejandro should alternate^ cover artists, each working on his specialty. Inside, it seems as if Pat Davis is developing into a better than average artist, with something resembling Sehnet^oan in the offing. Cartier, of co»rj», needs no commenting on,'“'SM you are keeping him in'-IShi, against a possible renaissancfemf Unknoum. P. 104, Brass Tatdts gives a hopeful hint. ARTICLE: Richardson’s articles are al’'W.ys welcome. Looking forward ...to one on S Doradus, if muctL:mar THE NEW COLLECTORS FANTASY BOOK CLUB ANNOUNCES ITS THIRD SELECTION THE CARNELIAN CUBE by FLETCHER PRATT and L. SPRAGUE De CAMP Archedloffist Arthur Cleveland Finch kept dreaming of the perfect world. ,, He went to sleep with the CARNELIAN CUBE and woke up in his I perfect world. Follow the hilarious adventures of Arthur Finch as he decides to change his perfect world for another and then another. Not since Land of Unreason and The Incomplete Enchanter has a Fantasy novel appeared as enjoyable as Tht^Carnelian Cube. Selection One and Two were A. Merritt’s The Fox Woman and The Blaqk Wheel. Both completed and illustrated by Hannes Bok. You can still be charter members of our FANTASY BOOK CLIJB by sending in your orders now. All our books are THREE DOLLARS a>,j:opy. Watch these ads for announcement of our first premium. Send check or reservations to: THE NEW COLLECTORS BBASS TACKS

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tcriai can be gathered on that feeble ,spark. In conclusion, I notice on P. 110 a slip up on your part. J. William- son’s second installment is this month, not next month. But I hope you give us Van Vogt’s opus first before L. R. Hubbard’s. J f VV can spring a sequel on his lizwals and ©"n his “Recruiting Station,”, he ' should be able to climb up to the top again, after the “Child of the -Ciods” toboggan. “Scuttlebutt” says,' he has worked out something on tlie latter theme (Masters of Time to quote the flyleaf on the binder of '■‘Book of Ptath” by Fanta.sy Prcs.s). Sequels on “A” and “Sian” might fill out otherwise incomplete jjlots, and a second Asylum would make it all perfect. Weel, that’s my bit for the month, more like a mduth- full. — William E. Dorion, 180 Riverside Drive, New York 24, New York. So many theories do show negative correlation to relevant data! Dear Mr. Campbell: Of course the Bugstrom Factor — known to engineers, college stu- dents, and other infidels as the “Bugger Factor,” “Finagle’s Con- stant,” et cetera — is a variable. This factor was designed by Professor Perennial V. Bugstrom of the Tech- nische Hochschule in Oslo to cor- rect the erroneous values given by Reisringer functions. These func- tions are of the general form : R= Ae-^ where X is the independent variable, A is a constant determined from boundary conditions, and K is the “Bugstrom Factor.” Reisringer functions, first formulated by the noted statistician, Rudolf Reis- ringer, of the Prinz Eugen Insti- tute in Hamburg, are characterized by a negative correlation with what- ever data they are supposed to fit. This negative correlation obviously' led to all manner of contradictions in experimental physics, and several solutions were empirically devised. The most notable of these was tliat of Finagle in 1871 and has correctly been given by Mr. Schaumburger in liis letter printed in the April Astounding. However, in 1930, shortly after De Broglie’s wave theory of matter. Professor Bug- .strom devised this factor using many of the assumptions w’hich arc now second nature to theoretical physi- cists. The recent psychokinetic re- searches of Professor Rhine at Duke have substantiated Bugstrom’s work beyond all possible doubt. Much other theoretical work in the literature shows similar tendencies. No doubt Finagle’s Constant will lit a given set of data sufficiently for the purposes of engineers, ap- plied scientists, and the other “lesser breeds without the law” mentioned above', but for the accuracy required by theoreticians it is painfully* in- accurate . . . Sometimes deviating as much as one per cent from the data. Bugstrom’s Factor, however, will fit any set of data to a Reisringer func- tion e.racily—i.^. : without deviation. — Janies' H. Ray, ■ 223 ■ Congress Street, Brooklyn 2, New ^"ork. , ASTOUNDING ■SCIE.XOK-FtCTION 193

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Mr. Micawber was only half- right ! Mb. micawber’s financial advice to young David Copperfield is justly famous. Translated into United States cur- rency, it runs something like this: ^*Annual income, two thousand dol- lars'. annual expenditure, nineteen hundred and ninety-nine dollars; result, happiness. Annual income, two thousand dollars; annual ex- penditure, two thousand and one dollars; result, misery.” , But Mr. Micawber was only half- right! Simply not spending more than you make isn’t enough. Every family must have savings to provide for their future security. 100% Government-backed U. S. Savings Bonds offer one of the best ways imaginable to build savings, through rivo automatic plans: (1) Pay- roll Saving; (2) Bond-A-Month. Join the Plan you’re eligible for today! As Mr. Micawber would say: “Result, security!” AUTOMATIC SAVING IS SURE SAVING -U.S. SAVINGS BONDS Contributed by this jnagazine in co-operation SKURjU with the Magazine Pul^kera of America as a public service.

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