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diff --git a/29418.txt b/29418.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..679d3f0 --- /dev/null +++ b/29418.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1064 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Man from Time, by Frank Belknap Long + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Man from Time + +Author: Frank Belknap Long + +Release Date: July 15, 2009 [EBook #29418] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAN FROM TIME *** + + + + +Produced by Greg Weeks, Stephen Blundell and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + _The method by which one man might be pinpointed in the vastness of + all Eternity was the problem tackled by the versatile Frank Belknap + Long in this story. And as all minds of great perceptiveness know, + it would be a simple, human quality he'd find most effective even in + solving Time-Space._ + + + the + man + from + time + + _by ... Frank Belknap Long_ + + + Deep in the Future he found the + answer to Man's age-old problem. + + +Daring Moonson, he was called. It was a proud name, a brave name. But +what good was a name that rang out like a summons to battle if the man +who bore it could not repeat it aloud without fear? + +Moonson had tried telling himself that a man could conquer fear if he +could but once summon the courage to laugh at all the sins that ever +were, and do as he damned well pleased. An ancient phrase that--damned +well. It went clear back to the Elizabethan Age, and Moonson had tried +picturing himself as an Elizabethan man with a ruffle at his throat and +a rapier in his clasp, brawling lustily in a tavern. + +In the Elizabethan Age men had thrown caution to the winds and lived +with their whole bodies, not just with their minds alone. Perhaps that +was why, even in the year 3689, defiant names still cropped up. Names +like Independence Forest and Man, Live Forever! + +It was not easy for a man to live up to a name like Man, Live Forever! +But Moonson was ready to believe that it could be done. There was +something in human nature which made a man abandon caution and try to +live up to the claims made for him by his parents at birth. + +It must be bad, Moonson thought. It must be bad if I can't control the +trembling of my hands, the pounding of the blood at my temples. I am +like a child shut up alone in the dark, hearing rats scurrying in a +closet thick with cobwebs and the tapping of a blind man's cane on a +deserted street at midnight. + +_Tap, tap, tap_--nearer and nearer through the darkness. How soon would +the rats be swarming out, blood-fanged and wholly vicious? How soon +would the cane strike? + +He looked up quickly, his eyes searching the shadows. For almost a month +now the gleaming intricacies of the machine had given him a complete +sense of security. As a scholar traveling in Time he had been accepted +by his fellow travelers as a man of great courage and firm +determination. + +For twenty-seven days a smooth surface of shining metal had walled him +in, enabling him to grapple with reality on a completely adult level. +For twenty-seven days he had gone pridefully back through Time, taking +creative delight in watching the heritage of the human race unroll +before him like a cineramoscope under glass. + +Watching a green land in the dying golden sunlight of an age lost to +human memory could restore a man's strength of purpose by its serenity +alone. But even an age of war and pestilence could be observed without +torment from behind the protective shields of the Time Machine. Danger, +accidents, catastrophe could not touch him personally. + +To watch death and destruction as a spectator in a traveling Time +Observatory was like watching a cobra poised to strike from behind a +pane of crystal-bright glass in a zoological garden. + +You got a tremendous thrill in just thinking: How dreadful if the glass +should not be there! How lucky I am to be alive, with a thing so deadly +and monstrous within striking distance of me! + +For twenty-seven days now he had traveled without fear. Sometimes the +Time Observatory would pinpoint an age and hover over it while his +companions took painstaking historical notes. Sometimes it would retrace +its course and circle back. A new age would come under scrutiny and more +notes would be taken. + +But a horrible thing that had happened to him, had awakened in him a +lonely nightmare of restlessness. Childhood fears he had thought buried +forever had returned to plague him and he had developed a sudden, +terrible dread of the fogginess outside the moving viewpane, the way the +machine itself wheeled and dipped when an ancient ruin came sweeping +toward him. He had developed a fear of Time. + +There was no escape from that Time Fear. The instant it came upon him he +lost all interest in historical research. 1069, 732, 2407, 1928--every +date terrified him. The Black Plague in London, the Great Fire, the +Spanish Armada in flames off the coast of a bleak little island that +would soon mold the destiny of half the world--how meaningless it all +seemed in the shadow of his fear! + +Had the human race really advanced so much? Time had been conquered but +no man was yet wise enough to heal himself if a stark, unreasoning fear +took possession of his mind and heart, giving him no peace. + +Moonson lowered his eyes, saw that Rutella was watching him in the +manner of a shy woman not wishing to break in too abruptly on the +thoughts of a stranger. + +Deep within him he knew that he had become a stranger to his own wife +and the realization sharply increased his torment. He stared down at her +head against his knee, at her beautiful back and sleek, dark hair. +Violet eyes she had, not black as they seemed at first glance but a +deep, lustrous violet. + +He remembered suddenly that he was still a young man, with a young man's +ardor surging strong in him. He bent swiftly, kissed her lips and eyes. +As he did so her arms tightened about him until he found himself +wondering what he could have done to deserve such a woman. + +She had never seemed more precious to him and for an instant he could +feel his fear lessening a little. But it came back and was worse than +before. It was like an old pain returning at an unexpected moment to +chill a man with the sickening reminder that all joy must end. + +His decision to act was made quickly. + +The first step was the most difficult but with a deliberate effort of +will he accomplished it to his satisfaction. His secret thoughts he +buried beneath a continuous mental preoccupation with the vain and the +trivial. It was important to the success of his plan that his companions +should suspect nothing. + +The second step was less difficult. The mental block remained firm and +he succeeded in carrying on actual preparations for his departure in +complete secrecy. + +The third step was the final one and it took him from a large +compartment to a small one, from a high-arching surface of metal to a +maze of intricate control mechanisms in a space so narrow that he had to +crouch to work with accuracy. + +Swiftly and competently his fingers moved over instruments of science +which only a completely sane man would have known how to manipulate. It +was an acid test of his sanity and he knew as he worked that his +reasoning faculties at least had suffered no impairment. + +Beneath his hands the Time Observatory's controls were solid shafts of +metal. But suddenly as he worked he found himself thinking of them as +fluid abstractions, each a milestone in man's long progress from the +jungle to the stars. Time and space--mass and velocity. + +How incredible that it had taken centuries of patient technological +research to master in a practical way the tremendous implications of +Einstein's original postulate. Warp space with a rapidly moving object, +move away from the observer with the speed of light--and the whole of +human history assumed the firm contours of a landscape in space. Time +and space merged and became one. And a man in an intricately-equipped +Time Observatory could revisit the past as easily as he could travel +across the great curve of the universe to the farthest planet of the +farthest star. + +The controls were suddenly firm in his hands. He knew precisely what +adjustments to make. The iris of the human eye dilates and contracts +with every shift of illumination, and the Time Observatory had an iris +too. That iris could be opened without endangering his companions in the +least--if he took care to widen it just enough to accommodate only one +sturdily built man of medium height. + +Sweat came out in great beads on his forehead as he worked. The light +that came through the machine's iris was faint at first, the barest +glimmer of white in deep darkness. But as he adjusted controls the light +grew brighter and brighter, beating in upon him until he was kneeling in +a circle of radiance that dazzled his eyes and set his heart to +pounding. + +I've lived too long with fear, he thought. I've lived like a man +imprisoned, shut away from the sunlight. Now, when freedom beckons, I +must act quickly or I shall be powerless to act at all. + +He stood erect, took a slow step forward, his eyes squeezed shut. +Another step, another--and suddenly he knew he was at the gateway to +Time's sure knowledge, in actual contact with the past for his ears were +now assailed by the high confusion of ancient sounds and voices! + +He left the Time machine in a flying leap, one arm held before his face. +He tried to keep his eyes covered as the ground seemed to rise to meet +him. But he lurched in an agony of unbalance and opened his eyes--to see +the green surface beneath him flashing like a suddenly uncovered jewel. + +He remained on his feet just long enough to see his Time Observatory dim +and vanish. Then his knees gave way and he collapsed with a despairing +cry as the fear enveloped him ... + + * * * * * + +There were daisies in the field where he lay, his shoulders and naked +chest pressed to the earth. A gentle wind stirred the grass, and the +flute-like warble of a song bird was repeated close to his ear, over and +over with a tireless persistence. + +Abruptly he sat up and stared about him. Running parallel to the field +was a winding country road and down it came a yellow and silver vehicle +on wheels, its entire upper section encased in glass which mirrored the +autumnal landscape with a startling clearness. + +The vehicle halted directly in front of him and a man with ruddy cheeks +and snow-white hair leaned out to wave at him. + +"Good morning, mister!" the man shouted. "Can I give you a lift into +town?" + +Moonson rose unsteadily, alarm and suspicion in his stare. Very +cautiously he lowered the mental barrier and the man's thoughts impinged +on his mind in bewildering confusion. + +_He's not a farmer, that's sure ... must have been swimming in the +creek, but those bathing trunks he's wearing are out of this world!_ + +_Huh! I wouldn't have the nerve to parade around in trunks like that +even on a public beach. Probably an exhibitionist ... But why should he +wear 'em out here in the woods? No blonds or redheads to knock silly out +here!_ + +_Huh! He might have the courtesy to answer me ... Well, if he doesn't +want a lift into town it's no concern of mine!_ + +Moonson stood watching the vehicle sweep away out of sight. Obviously he +had angered the man by his silence, but he could answer only by shaking +his head. + +He began to walk, pausing an instant in the middle of the bridge to +stare down at a stream of water that rippled in the sunlight over +moss-covered rocks. Tiny silver fish darted to and fro beneath a +tumbling waterfall and he felt calmed and reassured by the sight. +Shoulders erect now, he walked on ... + +It was high noon when he reached the tavern. He went inside, saw men and +women dancing in a dim light, and there was a huge, rainbow-colored +musical instrument by the door which startled him by its resonance. The +music was wild, weird, a little terrifying. + +He sat down at a table near the door and searched the minds of the +dancers for a clue to the meaning of what he saw. + +The thoughts which came to him were startlingly primitive, direct and +sometimes meaningless to him. + +_Go easy, baby! Swing it! Sure, we're in the groove now, but you never +can tell! I'll buy you an orchid, honey! Not roses, just one +orchid--black like your hair! Ever see a black orchid, hon? They're rare +and they're expensive!_ + +_Oh, darl, darl, hold me closer! The music goes round and round! It will +always be like that with us, honey! Don't ever be a square! That's all I +ask! Don't ever be a square! Cuddle up to me, let yourself go! When +you're dancing with one girl you should never look at another! Don't you +know that, Johnny!_ + +_Sure I know it, Doll! But did I ever claim I wasn't human?_ + +_Darl, doll, doll baby! Look all you want to! But if you ever dare--_ + +Moonson found himself relaxing a little. Dancing in all ages was closely +allied to love-making, but it was pursued here with a careless rapture +which he found creatively stimulating. People came here not only to +dance but to eat, and the thoughts of the dancers implied that there was +nothing stylized about a tavern. The ritual was a completely natural +one. + +In Egyptian bas-reliefs you saw the opposite in dancing. Every movement +rigidly prescribed, arms held rigid and sharply bent at the elbows. Slow +movements rather than lively ones, a bowing and a scraping with bowls of +fruit extended in gift offerings at every turn. + +There was obviously no enthroned authority here, no bejeweled king to +pacify when emotions ran wild, but complete freedom to embrace joy with +corybantic abandonment. + +A tall man in ill-fitting black clothes approached Moonson's table, +interrupting his reflections with thoughts that seemed designed to +disturb and distract him out of sheer perversity. So even here there +were flies in every ointment, and no dream of perfection could remain +unchallenged. + +He sat unmoving, absorbing the man's thoughts. + +_What does he think this is, a bath house? Mike says it's okay to serve +them if they come in from the beach just as they are. But just one quick +beer, no more. This late in the season you'd think they'd have the +decency to get dressed!_ + +The sepulchrally-dressed man gave the table a brush with a cloth he +carried, then thrust his head forward like an ill-tempered scavenger +bird. + +"Can't serve you anything but beer. Boss's orders. Okay?" + +Moonson nodded and the man went away. + +Then he turned to watching the girl. She was frightened. She sat all +alone, plucking nervously at the red-and-white checkered tablecloth. She +sat with her back to the light, bunching the cloth up into little folds, +then smoothing it out again. + +She'd ground out lipstick-smudged cigarettes until the ash tray was +spilling over. + +Moonson began to watch the fear in her mind ... + +Her fear grew when she thought that Mike wasn't gone for good. The phone +call wouldn't take long and he'd be coming back any minute now. And Mike +wouldn't be satisfied until she was broken into little bits. Yes, Mike +wanted to see her on her knees, begging him to kill her! + +_Kill me, but don't hurt Joe! It wasn't his fault! He's just a kid--he's +not twenty yet, Mike!_ + +That would be a lie but Mike had no way of knowing that Joe would be +twenty-two on his next birthday, although he looked eighteen at most. +There was no pity in Mike but would his pride let him hot-rod an +eighteen-year-old? + +_Mike won't care! Mike will kill him anyway! Joe couldn't help falling +in love with me, but Mike won't care what Joe could help! Mike was never +young himself, never a sweet kid like Joe!_ + +_Mike killed a man when he was fourteen years old! He spent seven years +in a reformatory and the kids there were never young. Joe will be just +one of those kids to Mike ..._ + +Her fear kept growing. + +You couldn't fight men like Mike. Mike was strong in too many different +ways. When you ran a tavern with an upstairs room for special customers +you had to be tough, strong. You sat in an office and when people came +to you begging for favors you just laughed. Ten grand isn't hay, buddy! +My wheels aren't rigged. If you think they are get out. It's your +funeral. + +It's your funeral, Mike would say, laughing until tears came into his +eyes. + +You couldn't fight that kind of strength. Mike could push his knuckles +hard into the faces of people who owed him money, and he'd never even be +arrested. + +Mike could take money crisp and new out of his wallet, spread it out +like a fan, say to any girl crazy enough to give him a second glance: +"I'm interested in you, honey! Get rid of him and come over to my +table!" + +He could say worse things to girls too decent and self-respecting to +look at him at all. + +You could be so cold and hard nothing could ever hurt you. You could be +Mike Galante ... + +How could she have loved such a man? And dragged Joe into it, a good kid +who had made only one really bad mistake in his life--the mistake of +asking her to marry him. + +She shivered with a chill of self-loathing and turned her eyes +hesitantly toward the big man in bathing trunks who sat alone by the +door. + +For a moment she met the big man's eyes and her fears seemed to fade +away! She stared at him ... sunburned almost black. Muscles like a +lifeguard. All alone and not on the make. When he returned her stare his +eyes sparkled with friendly interest, but no suggestive, flirtatious +intent. + +He was too rugged to be really handsome, she thought, but he wouldn't +have to start digging in his wallet to get a girl to change tables, +either. + +Guiltily she remembered Joe, now it could only be Joe. + +Then she saw Joe enter the room. He was deathly pale and he was coming +straight toward her between the tables. Without pausing to weigh his +chances of staying alive he passed a man and a woman who relished Mike's +company enough to make them eager to act ugly for a daily handout. They +did not look up at Joe as he passed but the man's lips curled in a sneer +and the woman whispered something that appeared to fan the flames of her +companion's malice. + +Mike had friends--friends who would never rat on him while their police +records remained in Mike's safe and they could count on him for +protection. + +She started to rise, to go to Joe and warn him that Mike would be coming +back. But despair flooded her and the impulse died. The way Joe felt +about her was a thing too big to stop ... + +Joe saw her slim against the light, and his thoughts were like the sea +surge, wild, unruly. + +_Maybe Mike will get me. Maybe I'll be dead by this time tomorrow. Maybe +I'm crazy to love her the way I do ..._ + +Her hair against the light, a tumbled mass of spun gold. + +_Always a woman bothering me for as long as I can remember. Molly, Anne, +Janice ... Some were good for me and some were bad._ + +_You see a woman on the street walking ahead of you, hips swaying, and +you think: I don't even know her name but I'd like to crush her in my +arms!_ + +_I guess every guy feels like that about every pretty woman he sees. +Even about some that aren't so pretty. But then you get to know and like +a woman, and you don't feel that way so much. You respect her and you +don't let yourself feel that way._ + +_Then something happens. You love her so much it's like the first time +again but with a whole lot added. You love her so much you'd die to make +her happy._ + + * * * * * + +Joe was shaking when he slipped into the chair left vacant by Mike and +reached out for both her hands. + +"I'm taking you away tonight," he said. "You're coming with me." + +Joe was scared, she knew. But he didn't want her to know. His hands were +like ice and his fear blended with her own fear as their hands met. + +"He'll kill you, Joe! You've got to forget me!" she sobbed. + +"I'm not afraid of him. I'm stronger than you think. He won't dare come +at me with a gun, not here before all these people. If he comes at me +with his fists I'll hook a solid left to his jaw that will stretch him +out cold!" + +She knew he wasn't deceiving himself. Joe didn't want to die any more +than she did. + +The Man from Time had an impulse to get up, walk over to the two +frightened children and comfort them with a reassuring smile. He sat +watching, feeling their fear beating in tumultuous waves into his brain. +Fear in the minds of a boy and a girl because they desperately wanted +one another! + +He looked steadily at them and his eyes spoke to them ... + +_Life is greater than you know. If you could travel in Time, and see how +great is man's courage--if you could see all of his triumphs over +despair and grief and pain--you would know that there is nothing to +fear! Nothing at all!_ + +Joe rose from the table, suddenly calm, quiet. + +"Come on," he said quietly. "We're getting out of here right now. My +car's outside and if Mike tries to stop us I'll fix him!" + +The boy and the girl walked toward the door together, a young and +extremely pretty girl and a boy grown suddenly to the full stature of a +man. + +Rather regretfully Moonson watched them go. As they reached the door the +girl turned and smiled and the boy paused too--and they both smiled +suddenly at the man in the bathing trunks. + +Then they were gone. + +Moonson got up as they disappeared, left the tavern. + +It was dark when he reached the cabin. He was dog-tired, and when he saw +the seated man through the lighted window a great longing for +companionship came upon him. + +He forgot that he couldn't talk to the man, forgot the language +difficulty completely. But before this insurmountable element occurred +to him he was inside the cabin. + +Once there he saw that the problem solved itself--the man was a writer +and he had been drinking steadily for hours. So the man did all of the +talking, not wanting or waiting for an answer. + +A youngish, handsome man he was, with graying temples and keenly +observant eyes. The instant he saw Moonson he started to talk. + +"Welcome, stranger," he said. "Been taking a dip in the ocean, eh? Can't +say I'd enjoy it, this late in the season!" + +Moonson was afraid at first that his silence might discourage the +writer, but he did not know writers ... + +"It's good to have someone to talk to," the writer went on. "I've been +sitting here all day trying to write. I'll tell you something you may +not know--you can go to the finest hotels, and you can open case after +case of the finest wine, and you still can't get started sometimes." + +The writer's face seemed suddenly to age. Fear came into his eyes and he +raised the bottle to his lips, faced away from his guest as he drank as +if ashamed of what he must do to escape despair every time he faced his +fear. + +He was trying to write himself back into fame. His greatest moment had +come years before when his golden pen had glorified a generation of +madcaps. + +For one deathless moment his genius had carried him to the heights, and +a white blaze of publicity had given him a halo of glory. Later had come +lean and bitter years until finally his reputation dwindled like a +gutted candle in a wintry room at midnight. + +He could still write but now fear and remorse walked with him and would +give him no peace. He was cruelly afraid most of the time. + +Moonson listened to the writer's thoughts in heart-stricken +silence--thoughts so tragic they seemed out of keeping with the natural +and beautiful rhythms of his speech. He had never imagined that a +sensitive and imaginative man--an artist--could be so completely +abandoned by the society his genius had helped to enrich. + +Back and forth the writer paced, baring his inmost thoughts ... His wife +was desperately ill and the future looked completely black. How could he +summon the strength of will to go on, let alone to write? + +He said fiercely, "It's all right for you to talk--" + +He stopped, seeming to realize for the first time that the big man +sitting in an easy chair by the window had made no attempt to speak. + +It seemed incredible, but the big man had listened in complete silence, +and with such quiet assurance that his silence had taken on an eloquence +that inspired absolute trust. + +He had always known there were a few people like that in the world, +people whose sympathy and understanding you could take for granted. +There was a fearlessness in such people which made them stand out from +the crowd, stone-markers in a desert waste to lend assurance to a tired +wayfarer by its sturdy permanence, its sun-mirroring strength. + +There were a few people like that in the world but you sometimes went a +lifetime without meeting one. The big man sat there smiling at him, +calmly exuding the serenity of one who has seen life from its tangled, +inaccessible roots outward and testifies from experience that the +entire growth is sound. + +The writer stopped pacing suddenly and drew himself erect. As he stared +into the big man's eyes his fears seemed to fade away. Confidence +returned to him like the surge of the sea in great shining waves of +creativeness. + + * * * * * + +He knew suddenly that he could lose himself in his work again, could tap +the bright resonant bell of his genius until its golden voice rang out +through eternity. He had another great book in him and it would get +written now. It would get written ... + +"You've helped me!" he almost shouted. "You've helped me more than you +know. I can't tell you how grateful I am to you. You don't know what it +means to be so paralyzed with fright that you can't write at all!" + +The Man from Time was silent but his eyes shone curiously. + +The writer turned to a bookcase and removed a volume in a faded cover +that had once been bright with rainbow colors. He sat down and wrote an +inscription on the flyleaf. + +Then he rose and handed the book to his visitor with a slight bow. He +was smiling now. + +"This was my first-born!" he said. + +The Man from Time looked at the title first ... THIS SIDE OF PARADISE. + +Then he opened the book and read what the author had written on the +flyleaf: + + _With warm gratefulness for a courage which brought back the sun._ + + _F. Scott Fitzgerald._ + +Moonson bowed his thanks, turned and left the cabin. + +Morning found him walking across fresh meadowlands with the dew +glistening on his bare head and broad, straight shoulders. + +They'd never find him, he told himself hopelessly. They'd never find him +because Time was too vast to pinpoint one man in such a vast waste of +years. The towering crests of each age might be visible but there could +be no returning to one tiny insignificant spot in the mighty ocean of +Time. + +As he walked his eyes searched for the field and the winding road he'd +followed into town. Only yesterday this road had seemed to beckon and he +had followed, eager to explore an age so primitive that mental +communication from mind to mind had not yet replaced human speech. + +Now he knew that the speech faculty which mankind had long outgrown +would never cease to act as a barrier between himself and the men and +women of this era of the past. Without it he could not hope to find +complete understanding and sympathy here. + +He was still alone and soon winter would come and the sky grow cold and +empty ... + +The Time machine materialized so suddenly before him that for an instant +his mind refused to accept it as more than a torturing illusion conjured +up by the turbulence of his thoughts. All at once it towered in his +path, bright and shining, and he moved forward over the dew-drenched +grass until he was brought up short by a joy so overwhelming that it +seemed to him that his heart must burst. + + * * * * * + +Rutella emerged from the machine with a gay little laugh, as if his +stunned expression was the most amusing in the world. + +"Hold still and let me kiss you, darling," her mind said to his. + +She stood in the dew-bright grass on tiptoe, her sleek dark hair falling +to her shoulders, an extraordinarily pretty girl to be the wife of a man +so tormented. + +"You found me!" his thoughts exulted. "You came back alone and searched +until you found me!" + +She nodded, her eyes shining. So Time wasn't too vast to pinpoint after +all, not when two people were so securely wedded in mind and heart that +their thoughts could build a bridge across Time. + +"The Bureau of Emotional Adjustment analyzed everything I told them. +Your psycho-graph ran to fifty-seven pages, but it was your desperate +loneliness which guided me to you." + +She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. + +"You see, darling, a compulsive fear isn't easy to conquer. No man or +woman can conquer it alone. Historians tell us that when the first +passenger rocket started out for Mars, Space Fear took men by surprise +in the same way your fear gripped you. The loneliness, the utter +desolation of space, was too much for a human mind to endure." + +She smiled her love. "We're going back. We'll face it together and we'll +conquer it together. You won't be alone now. Darling, don't you +see--it's because you aren't a clod, because you're sensitive and +imaginative that you experience fear. It's not anything to be ashamed +of. You were simply the first man on Earth to develop a new and +completely different kind of fear--Time Fear." + +Moonson put out his hand and gently touched his wife's hair. + +Ascending into the Time Observatory a thought came unbidden into his +mind: _Others he saved, himself he could not save._ + +But that wasn't true at all now. + +He _could_ help himself now. He would never be alone again! When guided +by the sure hand of love and complete trust, self-knowledge could be a +shining weapon. The trip back might be difficult, but holding tight to +his wife's hand he felt no misgivings, no fear. + + + + +Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from _Fantastic Universe_ March 1954. + Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. 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