diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:54:24 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-14 19:54:24 -0700 |
| commit | fcea24ef091ba56915427dbf99a600ea3a422d71 (patch) | |
| tree | ccfea19bcd5469d6fabe028923eeb92df697be04 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 511227 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/30742-h.htm | 3983 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 56425 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_002.jpg | bin | 0 -> 37848 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_003.jpg | bin | 0 -> 65455 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_004_01.jpg | bin | 0 -> 24952 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_004_02.jpg | bin | 0 -> 18637 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_005.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53428 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_006.jpg | bin | 0 -> 61060 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_007.jpg | bin | 0 -> 40015 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_008.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39723 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742-h/images/image_009.jpg | bin | 0 -> 49829 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742.txt | 3860 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 30742.zip | bin | 0 -> 69454 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
17 files changed, 7859 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30742-h.zip b/30742-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3ac6762 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h.zip diff --git a/30742-h/30742-h.htm b/30742-h/30742-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8105fc1 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/30742-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3983 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Anything You Can Do, by Darrell T. Langart + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; background-color: #FFFFFF; +} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; +} + +.tr {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; margin-top: 5%; margin-bottom: 5%; padding: 2em; background-color: #f6f2f2; color: black; border: dotted black 1px;} + +.p1 { font-size:xx-large; font-weight:bold; } +.p2 { margin-left:10%; } + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; +} + + +.center {text-align: center;} + + +/* Images */ +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.figright { + float: right; + clear: right; + margin-left: 1em; + margin-bottom: + 0em; + margin-top: 0em; + margin-right: 0; + padding: 0; + text-align: center; +} + +/* Poetry */ +.poem { + margin-left:10%; + margin-right:10%; + text-align: left; +} + +.poem br {display: none;} + +.poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + +.poem span.i0 { + display: block; + margin-left: 0em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i2 { + display: block; + margin-left: 2em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poem span.i4 { + display: block; + margin-left: 4em; + padding-left: 3em; + text-indent: -3em; +} + +/* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Anything You Can Do, by Gordon Randall Garrett + +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: Anything You Can Do + +Author: Gordon Randall Garrett + +Illustrator: Leone + +Release Date: December 23, 2009 [EBook #30742] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANYTHING YOU CAN DO *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="tr"><p class="center">Transcriber's Note:</p> +<p class="center">This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction May and June 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.</p><p class="center">This is the illustrated, shorter version of the EBook #24436</p></div> +<p> </p> + +<h1>ANYTHING YOU CAN DO!</h1> +<p> </p> +<div class="blockquot"><p>First of two parts. The Alien was <i>really</i> alien—and Earth +was faced with a strange problem indeed. They <i>had</i> to have +a superman. And there weren't any. So....</p></div> +<p> </p> +<h2>by Darrell T. Langart</h2> +<p> </p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="400" height="537" alt="" title="" /> +</div> +<p> </p> +<h3>ILLUSTRATED BY LEONE</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>I</h2> + + +<p><span class="p1">L</span>ike some great silver-pink fish, the ship sang on through the eternal +night. There was no impression of swimming; the fish shape had neither +fins nor a tail. It was as though it were hovering in wait for a member of +some smaller species to swoop suddenly down from nowhere, so that it, in +turn, could pounce and kill.</p> + +<p>But still it moved.</p> + +<p>Only a being who was thoroughly familiar with the type could have told +that this fish was dying.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_002.jpg" width="400" height="459" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>In shape, the ship was rather like a narrow flounder—long, tapered, and +oval in cross-section—but it showed none of the exterior markings one +might expect of either a living thing or of a spaceship. With one +exception, the smooth, silver-pink exterior was featureless.</p> + +<p>That one exception was a long, purplish-black, roughened discoloration +that ran along one side for almost half of the ship's seventeen meters of +length. It was the only external sign that the ship was dying.</p> + +<p>Inside the ship, the Nipe neither knew nor cared about the discoloration. +Had he thought about it, he would have deduced the presence of the burn, +but it was the least of his worries. The internal damage that had been +done to the ship was by far the more serious. It could, quite possibly, +kill him.</p> + +<p>The Nipe, of course, had no intention of dying. Not out here. Not so far, +so very far, from his own people. Not out here, where his death would be +so very improper.</p> + +<p>He looked at the ball of the yellow-white sun ahead and wondered that such +a relatively stable, inactive star could have produced such a tremendously +energetic plasmoid that it could still do the damage it had done so far +out. It had been a freak, of course. Such suns as this did not normally +produce such energetic swirls of magnetic force.</p> + +<p>But the thing had been there, nonetheless, and the ship had hit it at high +velocity. Fortunately, the ship had only touched the edge of the swirling +cloud, otherwise the entire ship would have vanished in a puff of +incandescence. But it had done enough. The power plants that drove the +ship at ultralight velocities through the depths of interstellar space had +been so badly damaged that they could only be used in short bursts, and +each burst brought them nearer to the fusion point. Most of the +instruments were powerless; the Nipe was not even sure he could land the +vessel. Any attempt to use the communicator to call home would have blown +the ship to atoms.</p> + +<p>The Nipe did not want to die, but, if die he must, he did not want to die +foolishly.</p> + +<p>It had taken a long time to drift in from the outer reaches of this sun's +planetary system, but using the power plants any more than absolutely +necessary would have been fool-hardy.</p> + +<p>The Nipe missed the companionship his brother had given him for so long; +his help would be invaluable now. But there had been no choice. There had +not been enough supplies for two to survive the long fall inward toward +the distant sun. The Nipe, having discovered the fact first, had, out of +his mercy and compassion, killed his brother while the other was not +looking. Then, having eaten his brother with all due ceremony, he had +settled down to the long, lonely wait.</p> + +<p>Beings of another race might have cursed the accident that had disabled +the ship, or regretted the necessity that one of them should die, but the +Nipe did neither, for, to him, the first notion would have been foolish, +and the second incomprehensible.</p> + +<p>But now, as the ship fell ever closer toward the yellow-white sun, he +began to worry about his own fate. For a while, it had seemed almost +certain that he would survive long enough to build a communicator—for +the instruments had already told him and his brother that the system ahead +was inhabited by creatures of reasoning power, if not true intelligence, +and it would almost certainly be possible to get the equipment he needed +for them. Now, though, it looked as if the ship would not survive a +landing. He had had to steer it away from a great gas giant, which had +seriously endangered the power plants.</p> + +<p>He did not want to die in space—wasted, forever undevoured. At least, he +must die on a planet, where there might be creatures with the compassion +and wisdom to give his body the proper ingestion. The thought of feeding +inferior creatures was repugnant, but it was better than rotting to feed +monocells or ectogenes, and far superior to wasting away in space.</p> + +<p>Even thoughts such as these did not occupy his mind often or for very +long. Far, far better than any of them was the desire—and planning for +survival.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The outer orbits of the gas giants had been passed at last, and the Nipe +fell on through the asteroid belt without approaching any of the larger +pieces of rock-and-metal. That he and his brother had originally elected +to come into this system along its orbital plane had been a mixed +blessing; to have come in at a different angle would have avoided all the +debris—from planetary size on down—that is thickest in a star's +equatorial plane, but it would also have meant a greater chance of +missing a suitable planet unless too much reliance were placed on the +already weakened power generators. As it was, the Nipe had been able to +use the gravitational field of the gas giant to swing his ship toward the +precise spot where the third planet would be when the ship arrived in the +third orbit. Moreover, the third planet would be retreating from the +Nipe's line of flight, which would make the velocity difference that much +the less.</p> + +<p>For a while, the Nipe had toyed with the idea of using the mining bases +that the local life form had set up in the asteroid belt as bases for his +own operations, but he had decided against it. Movement would be much +freer and much more productive on a planet than it would be in the Belt.</p> + +<p>He would have preferred using the fourth planet for his base. Although +much smaller, it had the same reddish, arid look as his own home planet, +while the third world was three-quarters drowned in water. But there were +two factors that weighed so heavily against that choice that they rendered +it impossible. In the first place, by far the greater proportion of the +local inhabitants' commerce was between the asteroids and the third +planet. Second, and much more important, the fourth world was at such a +point in her orbit that the energy required to land would destroy the ship +beyond any doubt.</p> + +<p>It would have to be the third world.</p> + +<p>As the ship fell inward, the Nipe watched his pitifully inadequate +instruments, doing his best to keep tabs on every one of the +feebly-powered ships that the local life form used to move through space. +He did not want to be spotted now, and even though the odds were against +these beings having any instrument highly developed enough to spot his +craft, there was always the possibility that he might be observed +optically.</p> + +<p>So he squatted there in the ship, a centipede-like thing about five feet +in length and a little less than eighteen inches in diameter, with eight +articulated limbs spaced in pairs along his body, any one of which could +be used as hand or foot. His head, which was long and snouted, displayed +two pairs of violet eyes which kept a constant watch on the indicators and +screens of the few instruments that were still functioning aboard the +ship.</p> + +<p>And he waited as the ship fell towards its rendezvous with the third +planet.</p> + + +<h2>II</h2> +<p><span class="p1">W</span>ang Kulichenko pulled the collar of his uniform coat up closer around his +ears and pulled the helmet and face-mask down a bit. It was only early +October, but here in the tundra country the wind had a tendency to be +chill and biting in the morning, even at this time of year. Within a week +or so, he'd have to start using the power pack on his horse to +electrically warm his protective clothing and the horse's wrappings, but +there was no necessity of that yet. He smiled a little as he always did +when he thought of his grandfather's remarks about such "new-fangled +nonsense".</p> + +<p>"Your ancestors, son of my son," he would say, "conquered the tundra and +lived upon it for thousands of years without the need of such womanish +things. Are there no men anymore? Are there none who can face nature alone +and unafraid without the aid of artifices that bring softness?"</p> + +<p>But Wang Kulichenko noticed—though, out of politeness, he never pointed +it out—that the old man never failed to take advantage of the electric +warmth of the house when the short days came and the snow blew across the +country like fine white sand. And he never complained about the lights or +the television or the hot water, except to grumble occasionally that they +were a little old and out of date and that the mail-order catalog showed +that better models were available in Vladivostok.</p> + +<p>And Wang would remind the old man, very gently, that a paper-forest ranger +made only so much money, and that there would have to be more saving +before such things could be bought. He did not—<i>ever</i>—remind the old man +that he, Wang, was stretching a point to keep his grandfather on the +payroll as an assistant.</p> + +<p>Wang Kulichenko patted his horse's rump and urged her softly to step up +her pace just a bit. He had a certain amount of territory to cover, and, +although he wanted to be careful in his checking, he also wanted to get +home early.</p> + +<p>Around him, the neatly-planted forest of paper-trees spread knotty, alien +branches, trying to catch the rays of the winter-waning sun. Whenever Wang +thought of his grandfather's remarks about his ancestors, he always +wondered, as a corollary, what those same ancestors would have thought +about a forest growing up here, where no forest like this one had ever +grown before.</p> + +<p>They were called paper-trees because the bulk of their pulp was used to +make paper (they were of no use whatever as lumber), but they weren't +trees, really, and the organic chemicals that were leached from them +during the pulping process were of far more value than the paper pulp.</p> + +<p>They were mutations of a smaller plant that had been found in the +temperate regions of Mars and purposely changed genetically to grow on the +Siberian tundra, where the conditions were similar to, but superior to, +their natural habitat. They looked as though someone had managed to cross +breed the Joshua tree with the cypress and then persuaded the result to +grow grass instead of leaves.</p> + +<p>In the distance, Wang heard the whining of the wind and he automatically +pulled his coat a little tighter, even though he noticed no increase in +the wind velocity around him.</p> + +<p>Then, as the whine became louder, he realized that it was not the wind.</p> + +<p>He turned his head toward the noise and looked up. For a long minute, he +watched the sky as the sound gained volume, but he could see nothing at +first. Then he caught a glimpse of motion. A dot that was hard to +distinguish against the cloud-mottled gray sky.</p> + +<p>What was it? An air transport in trouble? There were two trans-polar +routes that passed within a few hundred miles of here, but no air +transport he had ever seen had made a noise like that. Normally, they were +so high as to be both invisible and inaudible. Must be trouble of some +sort.</p> + +<p>He reached down to the saddle pack without taking his eyes off the moving +speck and took out the radiophone. He held it to his ear and thumbed the +call button insistently.</p> + +<p><i>Grandfather</i>, he thought with growing irritation as the seconds passed, +<i>wake up! Come on, old dozer, rouse yourself from your dreams!</i></p> + +<p>At the same time, he checked his wrist compass and estimated the direction +of flight of the dot and its direction from him. He'd at least be able to +give the airline authorities some information if the ship fell. He wished +there were some way to triangulate its height and so on, but he had no +need for that kind of thing, so he hadn't the equipment.</p> + +<p>"Yes? Yes?" came a testy, dry voice through the earphone.</p> + +<p>Quickly, Wang gave his grandfather all the information he had on the +flying thing. By now, the whine had become a shrill roar, and the thing in +the air had become a silver-pink fish shape.</p> + +<p>"I think it's coming down very close to here," Wang concluded. "You call +the authorities and let them know that one of the aircraft is in trouble. +I'll see if I can be of any help here. I'll call you back later."</p> + +<p>"As you say," the old man said hurriedly. He cut off.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Wang was beginning to realize that the thing was a spaceship, not an +airship. By this time, he could see the thing more clearly. He had never +actually seen a spacecraft, but he'd seen enough of them on television to +know what they looked like. This one didn't look like a standard type at +all, and it didn't behave like one, but it looked even less like an +airship, and he knew enough to know that he didn't necessarily know every +type of spaceship ever built.</p> + +<p>In shape, it resembled the old rocket-propelled jobs that had been first +used for space exploration a century before, rather than looking like the +fat ovoids that he was used to. But there were no signs of rocket +exhausts, and yet the ship was very obviously slowing, so it must have an +inertia drive.</p> + +<p>It was coming in much lower now, on a line north of him, headed almost due +east. He urged the mare forward, in order to try to keep up with the +craft, although it was obviously going several hundred miles per +hour—hardly a horse's pace.</p> + +<p>Still, it was slowing rapidly—very rapidly. Maybe—</p> + +<p>He kept the mare moving.</p> + +<p>The strange ship skimmed along the treetops in the distance and +disappeared from sight. Then there was a thunderous crash, a tearing of +wood and foliage, and a grinding, plowing sound.</p> + +<p>For a few seconds afterward, there was silence. Then there came a soft +rumble, as of water beginning to boil in some huge, but distant, samovar. +It seemed to go on and on and on.</p> + +<p>And there was a bluish, fluctuating glow on the horizon.</p> + +<p><i>Radioactivity?</i> Wang wondered. Surely not an atomic-powered ship without +safety cutoffs in this day and age.</p> + +<p>He pulled out his radiophone and thumbed the call button again.</p> + +<p>This time, there was no delay. "Yes?"</p> + +<p>"How are the radiation detectors behaving there, Grandfather?"</p> + +<p>"One moment. I shall see." There was a silence. Then: "No unusual +activity, young Wang. Why?"</p> + +<p>Wang told him, then asked: "Did you get hold of the air authorities?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. They have no missing aircraft, but they're checking with the space +fields. The way you describe it, the thing must be a spaceship of some +kind."</p> + +<p>"I think so, too. I wish I had a radiation detector here, though. I'd +like to know whether that thing is hot or not. It's only a couple of miles +or so away. I think I'd better stay away. Meanwhile, you'd better put in a +call to Central Headquarters Fire Control. There's going to be a holocaust +if I'm any judge unless they get here fast with plenty of equipment."</p> + +<p>"I'll see to it," said his grandfather, cutting off.</p> + +<p>The bluish glow in the sky had quite died away by now, and the distant +rumbling was gone, too. And, oddly enough, there was not much smoke in the +distance. There was a small cloud of gray that rose, streamerlike, from +where the glow had been, but even that faded away fairly rapidly in the +chill breeze. Quite obviously, there would be no fire. After several more +minutes of watching, he was sure of it. There couldn't have been much heat +produced in that explosion—if it could really be called an explosion.</p> + +<p>Then he saw something moving in the trees between himself and the spot +where the ship had come down. He couldn't quite see what it was, but it +looked like someone crawling.</p> + +<p>"Halloo, there!" he called out. "Are you hurt?"</p> + +<p>There was no answer. Perhaps whoever it was didn't understand Russian. +Wang's command of English wasn't too good, but he called out in that +language.</p> + +<p>Still there was no answer. Whoever it was had crawled out of sight.</p> + +<p>Then he realized that it couldn't be anyone crawling. No one could even +have run the distance between here and the ship in the time since it had +hit, much less crawled.</p> + +<p>He frowned. A wolf, then? Possibly. They weren't too common, but there +were still plenty of them around.</p> + +<p>He unholstered the heavy pistol at his side.</p> + +<p>And, as he slid the barrel free, he became the first human being ever to +see the Nipe.</p> + +<p>For an instant, as the Nipe came out from behind a tree fifteen feet away, +Wang Kulichenko froze as he saw those four baleful violet eyes glaring at +him from the snouted head. He jerked up the pistol to fire.</p> + +<p>He was much too late. His reflexes were too slow by far. The Nipe launched +itself across the intervening space in a blur of speed that would have +made a leopard seem slow. The alien's hands slapped aside the gun with a +violence that broke the man's wrist, while other hands slammed at his +skull.</p> + +<p>Wang Kulichenko hardly had time to be surprised before he died.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The Nipe stood quietly for a moment, looking down at the thing he had +killed. His stomach churned with disgust. He ignored the fading hoofbeats +of the slave-animal from which he had knocked the thing that lay on the +ground with a crushed skull. The slave-animal was unintelligent and +unimportant.</p> + +<p>This was the intelligent one.</p> + +<p>But so slow! So incredibly slow! And so weak and soft!</p> + +<p>It seemed impossible that such poorly-equipped beasts could have survived +long enough on any world to evolve to become the dominant life form.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it was not the dominant form. Perhaps it was merely a higher +slave-animal. He would have to do more investigating.</p> + +<p>He picked up the weapon the thing had drawn and examined it carefully. The +mechanism was unfamiliar, but a glance at the muzzle told him that it was +a projectile weapon of some sort. The twisted grooves in the barrel were +obviously designed to impart a spin to the projectile, to give it +gyroscopic stability while in flight.</p> + +<p>The dead thing must have thought he was a wild animal, the Nipe decided. +Surely no being would carry a weapon for use against members of its own or +another intelligent species.</p> + +<p>He examined the rest of the equipment on the thing. Not much information +there. Too bad the slave-animal was gone; there had apparently been more +equipment strapped to it.</p> + +<p>The next question was, what should he do with the body?</p> + +<p>Devour it properly, as one should with a validly slain foe?</p> + +<p>It didn't seem that he could do anything else, and yet his stomachs wanted +to rebel at the thought. After all, it wasn't as if the thing were really +a proper being. It was astonishing to find another intelligent race; none +had ever been found before. But he was determined to show them that he was +civilized and intelligent, too.</p> + +<p>On the other hand, they were obviously of a lower order than the Nipe, and +that made the question even more puzzling.</p> + +<p>In the end, he decided to leave the thing here, for others of its kind to +find. They would doubtless consume it properly.</p> + +<p>And—he glanced at the sky and listened—they would be here in time. There +were aircraft coming.</p> + +<p>He would have to leave quickly. He had to find one of their production or +supply centers, and he would have to do it alone, with only the equipment +he had on him. The utter destruction of his ship had left him seriously +hampered.</p> + +<p>He began moving, staying in the protection of the trees. His ethical sense +still bothered him. It was not at all civilized to leave a body to the +mercy of lesser animals or monocells like that. What kind of monster would +they think he was?</p> + +<p>Still, there was no help for it. If they caught him while feeding, they +might have thought him a lower animal and shot him. He couldn't put an +onus like that upon them.</p> + +<p>He moved on.</p> + + +<h2>III</h2> +<p><span class="p1">T</span>wo-fifths of a second. That was all the time Bart Stanton had from the +first moment his supersensitive ears heard the faint whisper of metal +against leather.</p> + +<p>He made good use of it.</p> + +<p>The noise had come from behind and slightly to the left of him, so he drew +his own gun with his left hand and spun to his left as he dropped to a +crouch. He had turned almost completely around, drawn his gun, and fired +three shots before the other man had even leveled his own weapon.</p> + +<p>The bullets from Stanton's gun made three round spots on the man's jacket, +almost touching each other and directly over the heart. The man blinked +stupidly for a moment, looking down at the round spots.</p> + +<p>"My God," he said softly.</p> + +<p>Then the man returned his weapon slowly to his holster.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 500px;"> +<img src="images/image_003.jpg" width="500" height="451" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>The big room was noisy. The three shots had merely added to the noise of +the gunfire that rattled intermittently around the two men. And even that +gunfire was only a part of the cacophony. The tortured molecules of the +air in the room were so besieged by the beat of drums, the blare of +trumpets, the crackle of lightning, the rumble of heavy machinery, the +squawks and shrieks of horns and whistles, the rustle of autumn leaves, +the machine-gun snap of popping popcorn, the clink and jingle of falling +coins, and the yelps, bellows, howls, roars, snarls, grunts, bleats, moos, +purrs, cackles, quacks, chirps, buzzes, and hisses of a myriad of animals, +that each molecule would have thought that it was being shoved in a +hundred thousand different directions at once if it had had a mind to +think with.</p> + +<p>The noise wasn't deafening, but it was certainly all-pervasive.</p> + +<p>Bart Stanton had reholstered his own weapon and half opened his lips to +speak when he heard another sound behind him.</p> + +<p>Again he whirled his guns in hand—both of them this time—and his +forefingers only fractions of a millimeter from the point that would fire +the hair triggers.</p> + +<p>But he did not fire.</p> + +<p>The second man had merely shifted the weapons in his holsters and then +dropped his hands away.</p> + +<p>The noise, which had been flooding into the room over the speaker system, +died instantly.</p> + +<p>Stanton shoved his guns back into place and rose from his crouch. "Real +cute," he said, grinning. "I wasn't expecting that one."</p> + +<p>The man he was facing smiled back. "Well, Bart, maybe we've proved our +point. What do you think, Colonel?" The last was addressed to the third +man, who was still standing quietly, looking worried and surprised about +the three spots on his jacket that had come from the special harmless +projectiles in Stanton's gun.</p> + +<p>Colonel Mannheim was four inches shorter than Stanton's five-ten, and was +fifteen years older. But, in spite of the differences, he would have +laughed at anyone who had told him, five minutes before, that he couldn't +outdraw a man who was standing with his back turned.</p> + +<p>His bright blue eyes, set deep beneath craggy brows in a tanned face, +looked speculatively at the younger man. "Incredible," he said gently. +"Absolutely incredible." Then he looked at the other man, a lean civilian +with mild blue eyes a shade lighter than his own. "All right, Dr. +Farnsworth, I'm convinced. You and your staff have quite literally created +a superman. Anyone who can stand in a noise-filled room and hear a man +draw a gun twenty feet behind him is incredible enough. The fact that he +could and did outdraw and outshoot me after I had started ... well, that's +almost beyond comprehension."</p> + +<p>He looked back at Bart Stanton. "What's your opinion, Mr. Stanton? Think +you can handle the Nipe?"</p> + +<p>Stanton paused imperceptibly before answering, while his ultrafast mind +considered the problem and arrived at a decision. Just how much confidence +should he show the colonel? Mannheim was a man with tremendous confidence +in himself, but who was capable of recognizing that there were men who +were his superiors, in one field or another.</p> + +<p>"If I can't dispose of the Nipe," Stanton said, "no one can."</p> + +<p>Colonel Mannheim nodded slowly. "I believe you're right," he said at +last. His voice was firm with inner conviction. He shot a glance at +Farnsworth. "How about the second man?"</p> + +<p>Farnsworth shook his head. "He'll never make it. In another two years, we +can put him into reasonable shape again, but his nervous system just +couldn't stand the gaff."</p> + +<p>"Can we get another man ready in time?"</p> + +<p>"Hardly. We can't just pick a man up off the street and turn him into a +superman. Even if we could find another subject with Bart's genetic +possibilities, it would take more time than we have to spare."</p> + +<p>"This isn't magic, Colonel. You don't change a nobody into a physical and +mental giant by saying <i>abracadabra</i> or by teaching him how to pronounce +<i>shazam</i> properly."</p> + +<p>"I'm aware of that," said Colonel Mannheim without rancor. "Five years of +work on Mr. Stanton must have taught you something, though. I should think +you could repeat the process in less time."</p> + +<p>Farnsworth repeated the headshaking. "Human beings aren't machines, +Colonel. They require time to heal, time to learn, time to integrate +themselves. Remember that, in spite of all our increased knowledge of +anesthesia, antibiotics, viricides, and obstetrics, it still takes nine +months to produce a baby. We're in the same position, only more so."</p> + +<p>"I see," said Mannheim.</p> + +<p>"Besides," Dr. Farnsworth continued, "Stanton's body and nervous system +are now close to the theoretical limit for human tissue. I'm afraid you +don't realize what kind of mental stability and organization are required +to handle the equipment he now has."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't," the colonel agreed. "I doubt if anyone besides Stanton +himself knows."</p> + +<p>Dr. Farnsworth's manner softened a little. "You're probably quite right. +Suffice it to say that Bartholomew Stanton is the only answer we've found +so far, and the only answer visible in the foreseeable future to the +problem posed by the Nipe."</p> + +<p>The colonel's face darkened. "I keep hoping that our policy of handling +the Nipe hasn't been a mistake. If it has, it's going to prove a fatal +one—for the whole race."</p> + +<p>"Let's go into the lounge," Farnsworth said. "Standing around in an empty +chamber like this isn't the most comfortable way to discuss the fate of +mankind." His voice brought hollow echoes from the walls.</p> + +<p>Colonel Mannheim grinned at the touch of lightness the biophysicist had +injected into the conversation. "Very well. I could do with some coffee, +if you have some."</p> + +<p>"All you want," said Dr. Farnsworth, leading the way toward the door of +the chamber and opening it. "Or, if you'd prefer something with a little +more power to it—?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, no. Coffee will do fine," said Mannheim. "How about you, Mr. +Stanton?"</p> + +<p>Bart Stanton shook his head. "I'd love to have some coffee, but I'll leave +the alcohol alone. I'd just have the luck to be finishing a drink when +our friend, the Nipe, popped in on us. And when I do meet him, I'm going +to need every microsecond of reflex speed I can scrape up."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="p1">T</span>hey walked down a soft-floored, warmly-lit corridor to an elevator which +whisked them up to the main level of the Neurophysical Institute Building.</p> + +<p>Another corridor led them to a room that might have been the common room +of one of the more exclusive men's clubs. There were soft chairs and +shelves of books and reading tables and smoking stands, all quietly +luxurious. There was no one in the room when the three men entered.</p> + +<p>"We can have some privacy here," Dr. Farnsworth said. "None of the rest of +the staff will come in until we're through."</p> + +<p>Colonel Mannheim looked at the biophysicist speculatively. "You seem to +think secrecy's important all of a sudden."</p> + +<p>Bart Stanton grinned and kept silent.</p> + +<p>Dr. Farnsworth went over to a table, where an urn of coffee radiated soft +warmth. "Cream and sugar over there on the tray," he said as he began to +fill cups.</p> + +<p>"Frankly," Colonel Mannheim said, "I was going to ask you to find us a +place where we could talk privately. You seem to have anticipated me."</p> + +<p>"I thought you might have something like that in mind," said Dr. +Farnsworth without looking up.</p> + +<p>The cups were filled and the three men sat down in a triangle of chairs +before any of them spoke again. Colonel Mannheim took a sip from his cup +and then looked up.</p> + +<p>"All right, we'll begin this way. Mr. Stanton, granted that you've been +through five years of hell—but how closely have you stayed in touch with +the Nipe situation?"</p> + +<p>"As best I could through news bulletins and information that your office +has sent here."</p> + +<p>"Could you give me an oral summary?"</p> + +<p>Bart Stanton thought for a moment. It was true that he'd been out of touch +with what had been going on outside the walls of the Neurophysical +Institute for the past five years. In spite of the reading he'd done and +the newscasts he'd watched and the TV tapes he'd seen, he still had no +real feeling for the situation.</p> + +<p>There were hazy periods during that five years. He had undergone extensive +glandular and neural operations of great delicacy, many of which had +resulted in what could have been agonizing pain without the use of +suppressors. As a result, he possessed a biological engine that, for sheer +driving power and nicety of control, surpassed any other known to exist or +to have ever existed on Earth—with the possible exception of the Nipe. +But those five years of rebuilding and retraining had left a gap in his +life.</p> + +<p>Several of the steps required to make the conversion from man to superman +had resulted in temporary insanity; the wild, swinging imbalances of +glandular secretions seeking a new balance, the erratic misfirings of +neurons as they attempted to adjust to higher nerve-impulse velocities, +and the sheer fatigue engendered by cells which were acting too rapidly +for a lagging excretory system, all had contributed to periods of greater +or lesser mental abnormality.</p> + +<p>That he was sane now, there was no question. But there were holes in his +memory that still had to be filled.</p> + +<p>He began to talk, rapidly but carefully, telling the colonel all he knew +about the situation up to the present.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It wasn't much. It was late October, 2091, and the Nipe, blithely evading +capture for ten long years, was still going about his unknown and possibly +incomprehensible business.</p> + +<p>The Nipe had become a legend. He had replaced Satan, the Bogeyman, +Frankenstein's monster, and Mumbo Jumbo, Lord of the Congo, in the public +mind. He had taken on, in popular thought, the attributes of the djinn, +the vampire, the ghoul, the werewolf, and every other horror and hobgoblin +that the mind of Man had conjured up in the previous half-million years.</p> + +<p>That he had been connected with the mysterious crash in Siberia ten years +before was almost a certainty. How he had managed to get from there to +Leningrad without being seen once was more of a mystery, but certainly +not impossible in the light of what had been done since.</p> + +<p>Eight months later, a non-vision phone call had been received by the +Regent's Board of the Khrushchev Memorial Psychiatric Hospital in +Leningrad. An odd, breathy voice offered (in very bad Russian!) a meeting. +The Nipe had managed to explain, in spite of the language handicap, that +he did not want to be mistaken for a wild animal, as had happened with the +forest ranger.</p> + +<p>The psychiatrists were divided in their opinions. Some thought that the +call had been from a deranged person. When the Nipe actually showed up at +the appointed place, those minds changed rapidly.</p> + +<p>The Nipe's ability to use any human language was limited. He picked up +vocabulary and grammatical rules very rapidly, but he seemed completely +unable to use a language beyond discussion of concrete actions and +objects. His mind was simply too alien to enable him to do more than touch +the edges of human communication.</p> + +<p>In the discussion of mathematics, in particular, the Nipe seemed to be +completely at a loss. He apparently thought of mathematics as a <i>spoken</i> +language instead of a <i>written</i> one, and could not progress beyond simple +diagrams.</p> + +<p>He wasn't captured in any real sense of the word. He refused to allow any +physical tests on his body, and, short of threatening him at gun-point, +there didn't seem to be any practicable way to force him to accede to the +human's wishes. And they couldn't do that.</p> + +<p>The Nipe had to be treated as an emissary from his home world, wherever +that was. He'd killed a man, yes. But that had to be allowed as +justifiable homicide in self-defense, since the forester had drawn a gun +and was ready to fire. Nobody could blame the late Wang Kulichenko for +that, but nobody could blame the Nipe, either.</p> + +<p>For six weeks, the humans and the Nipe had tried to arrive at a meeting of +minds, and just when it would seem within grasp, it would fade away into +mist. It was nearly a month before the Russian psychologists and +psychiatrists realized that the reason the Nipe had come to them was +because he had thought that they were the ruling body of that territory!</p> + +<p>The UN observers stayed out of it at first. Before there was any kind of +talk on a Government level, there must be some kind of understanding on a +personal level. And that, of course, was never achieved.</p> + +<p>Just what had set off the Nipe's anger hasn't been established yet, as far +as Stanton knew. At a meeting one day, he had simply become more and more +incomprehensible, and then, without any warning, he had leaped out, killed +three of the men with his bare hands, and gone out the window.</p> + +<p>And that had been the end of any diplomatic relations between humanity and +the Nipe.</p> + +<p>Since that time, he'd been on a rampage of robbery and murder. He was as +callously indifferent to human life and property as a human being might be +with the life and property of a cockroach.</p> + +<p>There have been human criminals whose actions could be described in the +same way, but the Nipe had a few touches that few human criminals would +have thought of and almost none would have had the capacity to execute.</p> + +<p>If, for instance, the Nipe had time to spare, his victims would be an +annoying problem in identification when found, for there would be nothing +left but well-gnawed bones. And "time to spare," in this case meant twenty +or thirty minutes. The Nipe had, if nothing else, a very efficient +digestive tract. He ate like a shrew.</p> + +<p>And the Nipe never, under any circumstances, used any weapon but the +weapons Nature had given him—hands-or-feet, or claws or teeth. Never did +he use a knife or gun or even a club.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="p1">A</span>lmost as an afterthought, one realized that the loot which the Nipe stole +was seemingly unpredictable. Money, as such, he apparently had no use for. +He had taken gold, silver, and platinum, but one raid for each of these +elements had evidently been enough, except for silver, which had required +three raids over a period of four years. Since then, he hadn't touched +silver again.</p> + +<p>He hadn't tried yet for any of the radioactives except radium. He'd taken +a full ounce of that in five raids, but hadn't attempted to get his hands +on uranium, thorium, plutonium, or any of the other elements normally +associated with atomic energy. Nor had he tried to steal any of the fusion +materials; the heavy isotopes of hydrogen or any of the lithium isotopes. +Beryllium had been taken, but whether there was any significance in the +thefts or not, no one knew.</p> + +<div> +<img class="figright" src="images/image_004_01.jpg" width="400" height="226" alt="" title="" /> +<img class="figright" src="images/image_004_02.jpg" width="188" height="348" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>There was a pattern in the thefts, nonetheless. They had begun small and +increased. Scientific and technical instruments—oscilloscopes, X-ray +generators, radar equipment, maser sets, dynostatic crystals, thermolight +resonators, and so on—were stolen complete or gutted for various parts. +After awhile, he went on to bigger things—whole aircraft, with their +crews, had vanished.</p> + +<p>That he had not committed anywhere near all the crimes that had been +attributed to him was certain; that he <i>had</i> committed a great many of +them was equally certain.</p> + +<p>There was no doubt at all that his loot was being used to make instruments +and devices of unknown kinds. He had used several of them on his raids. +The one that could apparently phase out almost any electromagnetic +frequency up to about a hundred thousand megacycles—including sixty-cycle +power frequencies—was considered to be a particularly cute item. So was +the gadget that reduced the tensile strength of concrete to about that of +a good grade of marshmallow.</p> + +<p>After he had been operating for a few years, there was no installation on +the face of the earth that could be considered Nipe-proof for more than a +few minutes. He struck when and where he wanted and took whatever he +needed.</p> + +<p>It was manifestly impossible to guard against the Nipe, since no one knew +what sort of loot might strike his fancy next, and there was therefore no +way of knowing where or how he would hit next.</p> + +<p>Nor could he ever be found after one of his raids. They were plotted and +followed out with diabolical accuracy and thoroughness. He struck, looted, +and vanished. And wasn't seen again until his next strike.</p> + +<p>Colonel Mannheim, who had carefully puffed a cigar alight and smoked it +thoughtfully during Stanton's recitation, dropped the remains of the cigar +into an ash receptacle. "Accurate but incomplete," he said quietly. "You +must have made some guesses." He looked from Bart Stanton to Dr. +Farnsworth. "I'd like to hear them."</p> + +<p>Farnsworth finished off the last of his coffee. "We've talked about it," +he admitted. "Although I must say the hypothesis Bart has come up with +would never have occurred to me. I'm still not sure I credit it, but" ... +he shrugged ... "I can't say that I disbelieve it, either."</p> + +<p>Mannheim turned his eyes back to Stanton. His silence was a question.</p> + +<p>"Logically, my theory mightn't hold much water," Stanton admitted. "But +the evidence seems to be conclusive enough to me." He got up, went over to +the coffee urn, and refilled his cup. "It seems incredible to me that the +combined intelligence and organizational ability of the UN Government is +incapable of finding anything out about one single alien, no matter how +competent he may be," he said as he returned to his seat.</p> + +<p>"Somehow, somewhere, someone must have gotten a line on the Nipe. He must +have a base for his operations, and someone should have found it by this +time.</p> + +<p>"If there is such a base, then it must be possible to blast him out of it +without resorting to the kind of work it took to produce—me.</p> + +<p>"I may be faster and more sensitive and stronger than the average man, but +that doesn't mean that I have superhuman abilities to the extent that I +can do in two or three years what the combined forces of the Government +couldn't do in ten. Certainly you wouldn't rely too heavily on it.</p> + +<p>"And yet, apparently, you are.</p> + +<p>"To me that can only mean that you've got another ace up your sleeve. You +<i>know</i> we're going to get the Nipe before I die. You either have a sure +way of tracing him or else you already know where he is.</p> + +<p>"Which is it?"</p> + +<p>Colonel Mannheim sighed. "We know where he is. We've known for six years."</p> + + +<h2>IV</h2> +<h4>INTERLUDE</h4> +<p><span class="p1">T</span>he woman's eyes were filled with tears, for which the doctor was +privately thankful. At least the original shock had worn off.</p> + +<p>"And there's nothing we can do? Nothing?" There was a slight catch in her +voice.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid not. Not yet. There are research teams working on the problem, +and one day ... perhaps...." Then he shook his head. "But not yet." He +paused. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Stanton."</p> + +<p>The woman sat there on the comfortable chair and looked at the +specialist's diploma that hung on the doctor's wall—and yet, she didn't +really see the diploma at all. She was seeing something else—a kind of +dream that had been shattered.</p> + +<p>After a moment, she began to speak, her voice low and gentle, as though +the dream were still going on and she were half afraid she might waken +herself if she spoke too loudly.</p> + +<p>"Jim and I were so glad they were twins. Identical twin boys. He said—I +remember, he said, 'We ought to call 'em Ike and Mike.' And he laughed a +little when he said it, to show he didn't mean it.</p> + +<p>"I remember, I was propped up in the bed, the afternoon they were born, +and Jim had brought me a new bed jacket, and I said I didn't need a new +one because I would be going home the next day, and he said: 'Hell, kid, +you don't think I'd just buy a bed jacket just for hospital use, do you? +This is for breakfasts in bed, too.'</p> + +<p>"And that's when he said he'd seen the boys and said we ought to name them +Ike and Mike."</p> + +<p>The tears were coming down Mrs. Stanton's cheeks heavily now, and grief +made her look older than her twenty-four years, but the doctor said +nothing, letting her spill out her emotions in words.</p> + +<p>"We'd talked about it before, you know—as soon as the obstetrician found +out that I was going to have twins. And Jim ... Jim said that we shouldn't +name them alike unless they were identical twins or mirror twins. If they +were fraternal twins, we'd just name them as if they'd been ordinary +brothers or sisters or whatever. You know?" She looked at the doctor, +pleading for understanding.</p> + +<p>"I know," he said.</p> + +<p>"And Jim was always kidding. If they were girls, he said we ought to call +them Flora and Dora, or Annie and Fanny, or maybe Susie and Floozie. He +was always kidding about it. You know?"</p> + +<p>"I know," said the doctor.</p> + +<p>"And then, when they <i>were</i> identical boys, he was very sensible about it. +'We'll call them Martin and Bartholomew,' he said. 'Then if they want to +call themselves Mart and Bart, they can, but they won't be stuck with +rhyming names if they don't want them.' Jim was very thoughtful that way, +Doctor. Very thoughtful."</p> + +<p>She suddenly seemed to realize that she was crying, and took a +handkerchief out of her sleeve to dab at her eyes and face.</p> + +<p>"I'll have to quit crying," she said, trying to sound brave and strong. +"After all, it could have been worse, couldn't it? I mean, the radiation +could have killed my boys, too. Jim's dead, yes, and I've got to get used +to that. But I still have two boys to take care of, and they'll need me."</p> + +<p>"Yes, Mrs. Stanton, they will," said the doctor. "They'll both need you. +And you'll have to be very gentle and very careful with both of them."</p> + +<p>"How ... how do you mean that?" she asked.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The doctor settled back in his chair and chose his words carefully. +"Identical twins tend to identify with each other, Mrs. Stanton. There is +a great deal of empathy between people who are not only of the same age, +but genetically identical. If they were both healthy, there would be very +little trouble in their education at home or at school. Any of the +standard texts on psychodynamics in education will show you the pitfalls +to avoid when dealing with identical siblings.</p> + +<p>"But these boys are no longer identical. One is normal, healthy, and +lively. The other is ... well, as you have seen, he is slow, sluggish, and +badly co-ordinated. That condition may improve with time, but, until we +know more about such damage than we do now, he will be an invalid."</p> + +<p>"That's the trouble with radiation damage, Mrs. Stanton. Even when we can +save the victim's life, we cannot always save his health.</p> + +<p>"You can see, I think, what sort of psychic disturbances this can bring +about in such a pair. The ill boy tends to identify with the well one and, +unfortunately, the reverse is true. If they are not properly handled +during their formative years, Mrs. Stanton, both can be badly damaged +emotionally."</p> + +<p>"I ... I think I understand," the woman said. "But what sort of thing +should I look out for?"</p> + +<p>"I suggest that you get a good man in psychic development," the doctor +said. "I'd hesitate to prescribe. It's out of my field. But, in general, +most of your trouble will be caused by a tendency for the pair to swing +into one of two extremes.</p> + +<p>"Mutual antagonism can arise if one becomes jealous of the other's health, +while the healthy one becomes jealous of the extra consideration shown his +crippled brother.</p> + +<p>"Or, on the other hand, the healthy boy may identify so closely with his +brother that he feels every hurt or slight, real or imagined. He becomes +over-solicitous, over-protective. At the same time, the other brother may +come to depend completely on the healthy twin.</p> + +<p>"In both these situations, there is a positive feedback which constantly +worsens the situation. It requires a great deal of careful observation and +careful application of the proper educational stimuli to keep the +situation from developing toward either extreme. You'll need expert help, +if you want both boys to display the full abilities of which they are +potentially capable."</p> + +<p>"I see. Could you give me the name of a good man, Doctor?"</p> + +<p>The doctor nodded and picked up a book on his desk. "I'll give you several +names. You can pick the one you like. They're all good men. There are many +good women in the field, too, but in this case, I think a man would be +best. Of course, if one of them thinks a woman is indicated, that's up to +him. As I said, that isn't my field."</p> + +<p>He opened the small book and riffled through it to find the names he +wanted.</p> + + +<h2>V</h2> +<p><span class="p1">T</span>he image of the Nipe on the glowing screen was clear and finely detailed. +It was, Bart thought, as though one were looking through a window into the +Nipe's nest itself. Only the tremendous depth of focus of the lens which +caught the picture gave the illusion a sense of unreality. +Everything—background and foreground alike—was sharply in focus.</p> + +<p>The Nipe moved in slow motion, giving the watchers the eerie feeling that +he was moving through a thicker, heavier medium than air, in a place where +the gravity was much less than that of Earth.</p> + +<p>"Speed the tape up to normal," said Colonel Mannheim to the man who was +operating the machine. "If there's anything Mr. Stanton wants to look at +more closely, we can run it through again."</p> + +<p>As if in obedience to the colonel's command, the Nipe seemed to shake +himself a little and go about his business more briskly, and the air and +gravity seemed to revert to those of Earth.</p> + +<p>"What's he doing?" Stanton asked. The Nipe was doing something with an +odd-looking box that sat on the floor in front of him.</p> + +<p>"He's got a screwdriver that he's modified to give it a head with an +L-shaped cross-section, and he's wiggling it around inside that hole in +the box. But what he's doing is a secret between God and the Nipe at this +point," the colonel said glumly.</p> + +<p>Stanton glanced away from the screen for a moment to look at the other men +who were there. Some of them were watching the screen, but most of them +seemed to be watching Stanton, although they looked away as soon as they +saw his eyes on them.</p> + +<p><i>Trying to see what kind of a bloke this touted superman is</i>, Stanton +thought. <i>Well, I can't say I blame 'em.</i></p> + +<p>He brought his attention back to the screen.</p> + +<p>So this was the Nipe's hideaway. He wondered if it were furnished in the +fashion that a Nipe's living quarters would be furnished on whatever +planet the multilegged horror called home. Probably it had the same +similarity as Robinson Crusoe's island home had to a middle-class +Nineteenth Century English home.</p> + +<p>There was no furniture at all, as such. Low-slung as he was, the Nipe +needed no tables for his work, and sleeping was a form of metabolic rest +that he evidently found unnecessary, although he would sometimes just +remain quiet for periods of time ranging from a few minutes to a couple of +hours.</p> + +<p>"We had a hard time getting the first cameras in there," the colonel was +saying. "That's why we missed some of the early stages of his work. There! +Look at that!"</p> + +<p>"That attachment he's making?"</p> + +<p>"That's right. Now, it looks as though it's a meter of some kind, but we +don't know whether it's a test instrument or an integral part of the +machine he's making. The whole thing might be a test instrument. After +all, he had to start out from the very beginning—making the tools to make +the tools to make the tools, you know."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"It's not quite as bad as all that," said one of the other men, who had +been briefly introduced to Stanton as Fred Meyer. "After all, he had our +technology to draw upon. If he'd been wrecked on Earth two or three +centuries ago, he wouldn't have been able to do a thing."</p> + +<p>"Granted," the colonel said agreeably, "but it's quite obvious that there +are parts of our technology that are just as alien to him as parts of his +are to us. Remember how he went to all the trouble of building a pentode +vacuum tube for a job that could have been done by transistors. His +knowledge of solid-state physics seems to be about a century and a half +behind ours."</p> + +<p>"Not completely, Colonel," Meyer said. "That gimmick he built last +year—the one that blinded those people in Bagdad—had five perfect +emeralds in it, connected in series with silver wire."</p> + +<p>"That's true. Our technologies seem to overlap in some areas, but in +others there's total alienness."</p> + +<p>"Which one would you say was ahead of the other?" Stanton asked.</p> + +<p>"Hard to say," said Colonel Mannheim, "but I'd put my money on his +technology as encompassing more than ours—at least insofar as the +physical sciences are concerned."</p> + +<p>"I agree," said Meyer, "he's got things in that little nest of his that—" +He stopped and shook his head slowly, as though he couldn't find words.</p> + +<p>"I'll say this," Bart Stanton said musingly, "our friend, the Nipe, has +plenty of guts. And patience." He smiled a little and then amended his +statement. "From our own point of view, that is."</p> + +<p>Colonel Mannheim's face took on a quizzical expression. "How do you mean? +I was about to agree with you until you tacked that last phrase on. What +does point of view have to do with it?"</p> + +<p>"Everything, I should say," Stanton said. "It all depends on the equipment +an individual has. A man who rushes into a burning building to save a +life, wearing nothing but street clothes, has courage. A man who does the +same thing when he's wearing a nullotherm suit is an unknown quantity. +There is no way of knowing, from that action alone, whether he has courage +or not."</p> + +<p>Meyer looked a little dazed. "Pardon me if I seem thick, Mr. Stanton, +but.... Are you saying that the Nipe's technological equipment is better +than ours?"</p> + +<p>"Not at all. I'm talking about his personal equipment." He turned again to +the colonel. "Colonel Mannheim, do you think it would require any personal +courage on my part to stand up against you in a face-to-face gunfight?"</p> + +<p>The colonel grinned tightly. "I see what you mean. No, it wouldn't."</p> + +<p>"On the other hand, if <i>you</i> were to challenge <i>me</i>," Bart Stanton +continued, "would <i>that</i> show courage?"</p> + +<p>"Not really. Foolhardiness, stupidity, or insanity—not courage."</p> + +<p>"Then neither of us can prove we have guts enough to fight the other. Can +we?"</p> + +<p>Colonel Mannheim smiled grimly and said nothing, but Meyer, who evidently +had a great deal of respect for the colonel, said: "Now, wait a second! +That depends on the circumstances! If Colonel Mannheim, say, knew that +forcing you to shoot him would save someone else's life—someone more +important, say, or maybe a <i>lot</i> of people, then—"</p> + +<p>Colonel Mannheim laughed. "Meyer, you've just proved Mr. Stanton's point!"</p> + +<p>Meyer gaped for a half second, then burst into laughter himself. "Pardon +my point of view, Mr. Stanton! I guess I <i>am</i> a little slow!"</p> + +<p>Mannheim said: "Precisely! Whether the Nipe has courage or patience or any +other human feeling depends on his own abilities and on how much +information he has. A man can perform any action without fear if he knows +that it will not hurt him—or if he does <i>not</i> know that it <i>will</i>." He +glanced at the screen. The Nipe had settled down into his "sleeping +position"—unmoving, although his baleful violet eyes were still open. +"Cut that off, Meyer," the colonel said. "There's not much to learn from +the rest of that tape."</p> + +<p>"Have you actually managed to build any of the devices he's constructed?" +Stanton asked.</p> + +<p>"Some," said Colonel Mannheim. "We have specialists all over the world +studying the tapes. We have the advantage of being able to watch every +step the Nipe makes, and we know the materials he's using to work with. +But, even so, the scientists are baffled by many of them. Can you imagine +the time James Clerk Maxwell would have had trying to build a modern +television set from tapes like this?"</p> + +<div class="figright" style="width: 600px;"> +<img src="images/image_005.jpg" width="600" height="433" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"I know exactly how he'd feel," Meyer said glumly.</p> + +<p>"You can see, then, why we're depending on you," Mannheim told Stanton.</p> + +<p>Stanton merely nodded. The knowledge that he was actually a focal point in +human history, that the whole future of the human race depended to a +tremendous extent on him, was a realization that weighed heavily, and, at +the same time, was immensely bracing.</p> + +<p>"And now," the colonel said, "I'll turn you over to the psychology +department. They'll be able to give you a great deal more information on +the Nipe than I can."</p> + + +<h2>VI</h2> +<p><span class="p1">T</span>he Nipe squatted, brooding, in his underground nest, waiting for the +special crystallization process to take place in the sodium-gold alloy +that was forming in the reactor.</p> + +<p><i>How long?</i> he wondered. He was not thinking of the crystallization +reaction; he knew the timing of that to the fraction of a second. His dark +thoughts were focused inwardly, upon himself.</p> + +<p>How long would it be before he would be able to construct the communicator +that would put him in touch with his own race again? How long before he +could discourse again with reasonable beings? For how much longer would he +be stranded on an insane planet, surrounded by degraded, insane beings?</p> + +<p>The work was going incredibly slowly. He had known at the beginning that +his knowledge of the basic arts required to build a communicator was +incomplete, but he had not realized just how painfully inadequate it was. +Time after time, his instruments had simply refused to function because of +some basic flaw in their manufacture—some flaw that an expert in that +field could have pointed out at once. Time after time, equipment had had +to be rebuilt almost from the beginning. And, time after time, only +cut-and-try methods were available for correcting his errors.</p> + +<p>Not even his prodigious and accurate memory could hold all the information +that was necessary for the work, and there were no reference tapes +available, of course.</p> + +<p>He had long since given up any attempt to understand the functioning of +the mad pseudo-civilization that surrounded him. He was quite certain that +the beings he had seen could not possibly be the real rulers of this +society, but he had, as yet, no inkling as to who the real rulers were.</p> + +<p>As to <i>where</i> they were, that question seemed a little easier to answer. +It was highly probable that they were out in space, on the asteriods that +his instruments had detected as he had dropped in toward this planet so +many years before. He had made an error back then in not landing in the +Belt, but at no time since had he experienced the emotion of regret or +wished he had done differently; both thoughts would have been +incomprehensible to the Nipe. He had made an error; the circumstances had +been checked and noted; he would not make that error again.</p> + +<p>What further action could be taken by a logical mind?</p> + +<p>None. The past was unchangeable. It existed only as a memory in his own +mind, and there was no way to change that indelible record, even had he +wished to do such an insane thing.</p> + +<p>Surely, he thought, the real rulers must know of his existence. He had +tried, by his every action, to show that he was a reasoning, intelligent, +and civilized being. Why had they taken no action?</p> + +<p>His hypotheses, he realized, were weak because of lack of data. He could +only wait for more information.</p> + +<p>That—and continue to work.</p> + + +<h2>VII</h2> +<h4>INTERLUDE</h4> +<p><span class="p1">M</span>rs. Frobisher touched the control button that depolarized the window in +the breakfast room, letting the morning sun stream in. Then she said, in a +low voice, "Larry, come here."</p> + +<p>Larry Frobisher looked up from his morning coffee. "What is it, hon?"</p> + +<p>"The Stanton boys. Come look."</p> + +<p>Frobisher sighed. "Who are the Stanton boys, and why should I come look?" +But he got up and came over to the window.</p> + +<p>"See—over there on the walkway toward the play area," she said.</p> + +<p>"I see three girls and a boy pushing a wheeled contraption," Frobisher +said. "Or do you mean that the Stanford boys are dressed up as girls?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Stanton</i>," she corrected him. "They just moved into the apartment on the +first floor."</p> + +<p>"Who? The three girls?"</p> + +<p>"No, silly! The two Stanton boys and their mother. One of them is in that +'wheeled contraption'. It's called a therapeutic chair."</p> + +<p>"Oh? So the poor kid's been hurt. What's so interesting about that, aside +from morbid curiosity?"</p> + +<p>The boy pushing the chair went around a bend in the walkway, out of sight, +and Frobisher went back to his coffee while his wife spoke.</p> + +<p>"Their names are Mart and Bart. They're twins."</p> + +<p>"I should think," Frobisher said, applying himself to his breakfast, "that +the mother would get a self-powered chair for the boy instead of making +the other boy push it."</p> + +<p>"The poor boy can't control the chair, dear. Something wrong with his +nervous system. I understand that he was exposed to some kind of radiation +when he was only two years old. That's why the chair has all the +instruments built into it. Even his heartbeat has to be controlled +electronically."</p> + +<p>"Shame." Frobisher speared a bit of sausage. "Kind of rough on both of +'em, I'd guess."</p> + +<p>"How do you mean?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I mean, like.... Well, for instance, why are they going over to the +play area? Play games, right? The one that's well has to push his brother +over there—can't just get out and go; has to take the brother along. Kind +of a burden, see?</p> + +<p>"And then, the kid in the chair has to sit there and watch his brother +play basketball or jai alai, while he can't do anything himself. Like I +say, kind of rough on both of them."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I suppose it must be. More coffee?"</p> + +<p>"Thanks, honey. And another slice of toast, hunh?"</p> + + +<h2>VIII</h2> +<p><span class="p1">T</span>he two objects floating in space both looked like pitted pieces of rock. +The larger one, roughly pear-shaped and about a quarter of a mile in its +greatest dimension, was actually that—a hunk of rock. The smaller—<i>much</i> +smaller—of the two was a camouflaged spaceboat. The smaller was on a +near-collision course with reference to the larger, although their +relative velocities were not great.</p> + +<p>At precisely the right time, the smaller drifted by the larger, only a few +hundred yards away. The weakness of the gravitational fields generated +between the two caused only a slight change of orbit on the part of both +bodies. Then they began to separate.</p> + +<p>But, during the few seconds of their closest approach, a third body had +detached itself from the camouflaged spaceboat and shot rapidly across the +intervening distance to land on the surface of the floating mountain.</p> + +<p>The third body was a man in a spacesuit. As soon as he landed, he sat +down, stock-still, and checked the instrument case he held in his hands.</p> + +<p>No response. Thus far, then, he had succeeded.</p> + +<p>He had had to pick his time precisely. The people who were already on this +small planetoid could not use their detection equipment while the +planetoid itself was within detection range of Beacon 971, only two +hundred and eighty miles away. Not if they wanted to keep from being +found. Radar pulses emanating from a presumably lifeless planetoid would +be a dead giveaway.</p> + +<p>Other than that, they were mathematically safe—if they depended on the +laws of chance. No ship moving through the Asteroid Belt would dare to +move at any decent velocity without using radar, so the people on this +particular lump of planetary flotsam would be able to spot a ship's +approach easily, long before their own weak detection system would +register on the pick-ups of the approaching ship.</p> + +<p>The power and range needed by a given detector depends on the relative +velocity—the greater that velocity, the more power, the greater range +needed. At one mile per second, a ship needs a range of only thirty miles +to spot an obstacle thirty seconds away; at ten miles per second, it needs +a range of three hundred miles.</p> + +<p>The man who called himself Stanley Martin had carefully plotted the orbit +of this particular planetoid and then let his spaceboat coast in without +using any detection equipment except the visual. It had been necessary, +but very risky.</p> + +<p>Had the people here seen his boat? If so, had they recognized it, in spite +of the heavy camouflage? And, even if they only suspected, what would be +their reaction?</p> + +<p>He waited.</p> + +<p>It takes nerve and patience to wait for thirteen solid hours without +moving more than an occasional flexure of muscles, but he managed that +long before the instrument case waggled a meter needle at him. The one +relieving factor was the low gravity; on an asteroid, the problem of +sleeping on a bed of nails is caused by the likelihood of accidentally +throwing oneself off the bed. The probability of puncture or discomfort +from the points is almost negligible.</p> + +<p>When the needle on the instrument panel flickered, he got to his feet and +began moving. He was almost certain that he had not been detected.</p> + +<p>Walking was out of the question. This was a silicate-alumina rock, not a +nickel-iron one. The group that occupied it had deliberately chosen it +that way, so that there would be no chance of its being picked out for +slicing by one of the mining teams in the Asteroid Belt. Granted, the +chance of any given metallic planetoid's being selected was very small, +they had not even wanted to take that chance. Therefore, without any +magnetic field to hold him down, and only a very tiny gravitic field, the +man had to use different tactics.</p> + +<p>It was more like mountain climbing than anything else, except that there +was no danger of falling. He crawled over the surface in the same way that +an Alpine climber might crawl up the side of a steep slope—seeking +handholds and toeholds and using them to propel himself onward. The only +difference was that he covered distance a great deal more rapidly than a +mountain climber could.</p> + +<p>When he reached the spot he wanted, he carefully concealed himself beneath +a craggy overhang. It took a little searching to find exactly the right +spot, but when he did, he settled himself into place in a small pit and +began more elaborate preparations.</p> + +<p>Self-hypnosis required nearly ten minutes. The first five or six minutes +were taken up in relaxing from his exertion. Gravity notwithstanding, he +had had to push his hundred and eighty pounds of mass over a considerable +distance. When he was completely relaxed and completely hypnotized, he +reached up and cut down the valve that fed oxygen into his suit.</p> + +<p>Then, of his own will, he went cataleptic.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="p1">A</span> single note, sounded by the instruments in the case by his side, woke +him instantly. He came fully awake, as he had commanded himself to do.</p> + +<p>Immediately, he turned up his oxygen intake, at the same time glancing at +the clock dial in his helmet. He smiled. Nineteen days and seven hours. He +had calculated it almost precisely. He wasn't more than an hour off, which +was pretty good, all things considered.</p> + +<p>He consulted his instruments again. The supply ship was ten minutes away. +The smile stayed on his face as he prepared for further action.</p> + +<p>The first two minutes were conscientiously spent in inhaling oxygen. Even +under the best cataleptic conditions, the body tended to slow down too +much. He had to get himself prepared for violent movement.</p> + +<p>Eight minutes left. He climbed out of the little grotto where he had +concealed himself and moved toward the spot where he knew the air lock to +the caverns underneath the planetoid's surface was hidden. Then again, he +concealed himself and waited, while he continued to breathe deeply of the +highly oxygenated air in his suit. Five minutes before the ship landed, he +swallowed eight ounces of the nutrient solution from the tank in the back +of his helmet. The solution of amino acids, vitamins, and honey sugar also +contained a small amount of stimulant of the dexedrine type and one per +cent ethanol. Then he unholstered his gun.</p> + +<p>It wasn't a big ship. He had known it wouldn't be. It was only a little +larger than the one he had used to come here. It dropped down to the +surface of the small planetoid only ten meters from the hidden trapdoor +that led to the air lock beneath the surface.</p> + +<p>He could suddenly hear voices in the earphones of his helmet.</p> + +<p><i>Lasser?</i></p> + +<p><i>It's me, Fritz. I got your supplies and good news.</i></p> + +<p>The air lock trapdoor opened, and a spacesuited figure came out. <i>How +about the deal?</i></p> + +<p><i>That's the good news,</i> said the second suited figure as it came from the +air lock of the grounded spaceboat. <i>Another five million.</i></p> + +<p>The man who was hidden behind the nearby crag of rock listened and watched +for a minute or so more while the two men began unloading cases of +foodstuffs from the spaceboat. Then, satisfied that it was perfectly safe, +he aimed his gun and shot twice in rapid succession. The range was almost +point-blank, and there was, of course, no need to take either gravity or +air resistance into account.</p> + +<p>The pellets of the shotgun-like charge that blasted out from the gun were +small, needle-shaped, and heavy. They were oriented point-forward by the +magnetic field along the barrel of the weapon. Of the hundreds in each +charge fired, only a few penetrated the spacesuits of the targets, but +those few were enough. The powerful drug in the needle-pointed head of +each went into the bloodstream of the target.</p> + +<p>Each man felt an itching sensation. He had less than two seconds to think +about it before unconsciousness overtook him and he slumped nervelessly.</p> + +<p>The man with the gun ran across the intervening space quickly, his body +only a few degrees from the horizontal, and his toes paddling rapidly to +propel him over the rough rock.</p> + +<p>He braked himself to a halt and slapped air patches over the area where +his charges had struck the men's suits, sealing the tiny air leaks, and, +at the same time, driving more of the tiny needles into their skins. They +would be out for a long time.</p> + +<p>Neither of them had yet fallen to the ground; that would take several +minutes under this low gravity. He left them to drop and headed toward the +open air lock.</p> + +<p>This was what he had been waiting for all those nineteen days in +cataleptic hypnosis. He couldn't have cut his way in from the outside; he +had had to wait until it was opened, and that time would come only when +the supply ship came.</p> + +<p>Once in the air lock, he touched the control stud that would close the +outer door, pump air into the waiting room, and open the inner door. Here +was his greatest point of danger—greater, even, than the danger of coming +to the planetoid, or the danger of waiting nineteen days for the coming of +the supply ship. If the ones who remained within suspected +anything—anything at all!—then his chances of coming out of this alive +were practically nil.</p> + +<p>But there was no reason why they should suspect. They should think that +the man coming in was one of their own. The radio contact between the men +outside had been limited to a few millimicrowatts of power—necessarily, +since radio waves of very small wattage can be decoded at tremendous +distances in open space. The men inside the planetoid certainly should not +have been able to pick up any more than the beginning of the conversation, +before it had been cut off by solid rock.</p> + +<p>It was a high-speed air lock. Unlike the soundless discharge of his +special gun in the outer airlessness, the blast of air that came into the +waiting chamber was like a hurricane in noise and force, as the room +filled in a few seconds.</p> + +<p>He held onto the handholds tightly while the brief but violent winds +buffeted him. He turned as the inner door opened.</p> + +<p>His eyes took in the picture in a fraction of a second. In an even smaller +fraction, his mind assimilated the picture.</p> + +<p>The woman was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and muscular. Her mouth was wide and +thick-lipped beneath a large nose.</p> + +<p>The man was leaner and lighter, bony-faced and beady-eyed.</p> + +<p>The woman said: "Fritz, what—"</p> + +<p>And then he shot them both with gun number two.</p> + +<p>No needle charges this time; such shots would have blown them both in two, +unprotected as they were by spacesuits. The small handgun merely jangled +their nerves with a high-powered blast of accurately beamed supersonics. +While they were still twitching, he went over and jabbed them with a drug +needle.</p> + +<p>Then he went on into the hideout.</p> + +<p>He had to knock out one more man, whom he found sound asleep in a room off +the short corridor.</p> + +<p>It took a gas bomb to get the two women who were guarding the kid.</p> + +<p>He made sure that the BenChaim boy was all right, then he went to the +little communications room and called for help.</p> + + +<h2>IX</h2> +<p><span class="p1">C</span>olonel Walther Mannheim tapped the map that glowed on the wall before +him. "He's right there, where those tunnels come together."</p> + +<p>Bart Stanton looked at the map of Manhattan Island and at the gleaming +colored traceries that threaded their various ways across it. "Just what +was the purpose of those tunnels?" he asked curiously.</p> + +<p>"They were for rail transportation," said the colonel. "The island was hit +by a sun bomb during the Holocaust, and almost completely leveled and +slagged down. When the city was rebuilt, there was naturally no need for +such things, so they were simply sealed off and forgotten."</p> + +<p>"Right under Government City," Stanton said. "Incredible."</p> + +<p>"It used to be one of the largest seaports in the world," Colonel Mannheim +said, "and it probably still would be if the inertia drive hadn't made air +travel cheaper and easier than seagoing."</p> + +<p>"How did he find out about the tunnels?" Stanton asked.</p> + +<p>The colonel pointed at the north end of the island. "After the Holocaust, +the first returnees to the island were wild animals which crossed from the +mainland from the north. The Harlem River isn't very wide at this point. +Also, because of the rocky hills at this end of the island, there were +places which were spared the direct effects of the bomb, and grasses and +trees began growing there. That's why it was decided to leave that section +as a game preserve when the Government built the capital on the southern +part of the island." His finger moved down the map. "The upper three miles +of the island, down to here, where it begins to widen, are all game +preserve. There's a high wall here which separates it from the city, and +the ruins of the bridges which connected with the mainland have been +removed, so the animals can't get back across any more.</p> + +<p>"Two years after he arrived, the Nipe was almost caught. He had managed, +somehow—we're not sure yet exactly how—to get here from Asia. According +to the psychologists who have been studying him, he apparently does not +believe that human beings are any more than trained animals; he was +looking then—as he is apparently still looking—for the 'real' rulers of +Earth. He expected to find them, of course, in Government City. Needless +to say," said the colonel with a touch of irony, "he failed."</p> + +<p>"But he was seen?" asked Stanton.</p> + +<p>"He was seen. And pursued. But he got away easily, heading north. The +island was searched, and the police were ready to start an inch-by-inch +going over of the island two days later. But the Nipe hit and robbed a +chemical supply house in northern Pennsylvania, killing two men, so the +search was called off.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> +<img src="images/image_006.jpg" width="450" height="621" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"It wasn't until two years later, after exhaustive analysis of the pattern +of his raids had given us something to work with, that we decided that he +must have found an opening into one of the tunnels up here in the game +preserve." He gestured again at the map. "It wouldn't take him long to see +that no human being had been down there in a long time. It was a perfect +place for his base."</p> + +<p>"How does he move in and out?" Stanton asked.</p> + +<p>"This way." The colonel traced a finger down one of the red lines on the +map, southward, until he came to a spot only a little over two miles from +the southernmost tip of the island. The line turned abruptly toward the +western edge of the island, where it stopped. "This tunnel goes underneath +the Hudson River at this point, and emerges on the other side. It's only +one of several that do so. They're all flooded now; the sun bomb caved +them in when the primary shock wave hit the surface of the river.</p> + +<p>"In spite of his high rate of metabolism, the Nipe can store a tremendous +amount of oxygen in his body, and can stay underwater for as long as half +an hour without breathing apparatus—if he conserves his energy. When he's +wearing his scuba apparatus, he's practically a self-contained submarine. +The pressure doesn't seem to bother him much. He's a tough cookie."</p> + +<p>Stanton nodded silently and slowly. Could he beat the Nipe in hand-to-hand +combat? There would be no way of knowing until the final moment of success +or failure.</p> + +<p>"At that time," the colonel went on, "we hadn't formulated any definite +policy on the Nipe. We didn't know what he was up to; we weren't even sure +he was actually down in those tunnels. We had to find out."</p> + +<p>He walked over to the nearby table and opened a box some twelve inches +long and five-by-five inches in cross section.</p> + +<p>"See this?" he said as he took something out.</p> + +<p>It looked like a large dead rat.</p> + +<p>"Our spy," said Colonel Mannheim.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The rat moved along the rusted steel rail that ran the length of the huge +tunnel. To a human being, the tunnel would have seemed to be in utter +darkness, but the little eyes of the rat saw its surroundings as faintly +luminescent, glowing from the infra-red radiations given out by the +internal warmth of cement and steel. The main source came from above, +where the heat of the sun and of the energy sources in the buildings on +the surface seeped through the roof of the tunnel.</p> + +<p>On and on it moved, its little pinkish feet pattering almost silently on +the oxidized metal surface of the rail. Its sensitive ears picked up the +movements and the squeals of other rats, but it paid them no heed. Several +times, it met other rats on the rail, but most of them sensed the +alienness of <i>this</i> rat and scuttled out of its way.</p> + +<p>Once, it met a rat who did not give way. Hungry, perhaps, or perhaps +merely yielding to the paranoid fury that was a normal component of the +rattish mind, it squealed its defiance to the rat that was not a rat. It +advanced, baring its teeth.</p> + +<p>The rat that was not a rat became suddenly motionless, its sharp rodent's +nose pointed directly at the enemy. There came a noise, a tiny popping +hiss, like that of a very small drop of water striking hot metal. From the +left nostril of the not-rat, a tiny glasslike needle snapped out at bullet +speed. It struck the advancing rat in the center of the pink tongue that +was visible in the open mouth. Then the not-rat scuttled backwards faster +than any rat could have moved.</p> + +<p>For a second, the real rat hesitated, and it may be that the realization +penetrated into its dim brain that rats did not fight this way. Then, as +the tiny needle dissolved in its bloodstream, it closed its eyes and +collapsed, rolling limply off the rail.</p> + +<p>The rat might come to before it was found and devoured by its fellows—or +it might not. The not-rat moved on, not caring either way. The human +intelligence that looked out from the eyes of the not-rat was only +concerned with getting to the Nipe.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"That's how we found the Nipe," Colonel Mannheim said, "and that's how we +keep tabs on him now. We have over seven hundred of these +remote-controlled robots hidden in strategic spots in those tunnels now, +but it took time to get everything set up this way. Now, we can follow the +Nipe wherever he goes, so long as he stays in the tunnels. If he went out +through an open air exit, we could have him followed by bird-robots but—" +He shrugged wryly. "I'm afraid the underwater problem still has us +stumped. We can't get the carrier wave for the remote-control impulses to +go far underwater."</p> + +<p>"How do you get your carrier wave underground to those tunnels?" Stanton +asked.</p> + +<p>The colonel grinned widely. "One of the boys dreamed up a real cute +gimmick. The rails themselves act as antenna for the broadcaster, and the +rat's tail is the pickup antenna. As long as the rat is crawling right on +the rail, only a microscopic amount of power is needed for control, not +enough for the Nipe to pick up with his instruments. Each rat carries its +own battery for motive power, and there are old copper power cables down +there that we can send direct current through to recharge the batteries. +And, when we need them, the copper cables can be used as antennas. It took +us quite a while to work the system out."</p> + +<p>Stanton rubbed his head thoughtfully. <i>Damn these gaps in my memory!</i> he +thought. It was sometimes embarrassing to ask questions that any schoolboy +should know.</p> + +<p>"Aren't there ways of detecting objects underwater?" he asked after a +moment.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the colonel, "But they all require beamed energy of some kind +to be reflected from the object, and we don't dare use anything like +that." He sat down on one corner of the table, his bright blue eyes +looking up at Stanton.</p> + +<p>"That's been our problem all along," he said seriously. "Keeping the Nipe +from knowing that he's being watched. In the tunnels, we've used only +equipment that was already there, adding only what we absolutely had +to—small things, a few strands of wire, a tiny relay, things that can be +hidden in out of the way places. After all, he has his own alarm system in +the maze of tunnels, and we've deliberately kept away from his detecting +devices. He knows about the rats and ignores them; they're part of the +environment. But we don't dare use anything that would tip him off to our +knowledge of his whereabouts. One slip like that, and hundreds of human +beings will have died in vain."</p> + +<p>"And if he stays there too long," Stanton said levelly, "millions more may +die."</p> + +<p>The colonel's face was grim as he looked directly into Stanton's eyes. +"That's why you have to know your job down to the most minute detail when +the time comes to act. The whole success of the plan will depend on you +and you alone."</p> + +<p>Stanton's eyes didn't avoid the colonel's. <i>That's not true,</i> he thought. +<i>I'll only be one man on a team, and you know it, Colonel Mannheim. But +you'd like to shove all the responsibility off onto someone else—someone +stronger. You've finally met someone that you consider superior in that +way, and you want to unload. I wish I felt as confident as you do, but I +don't.</i></p> + +<p>Aloud, he said: "Sure. Nothing to it. All I have to do is take into +account everything that's known about the Nipe and make allowances for +everything that's not known." Then he smiled. "Not," he added, "that I can +think of any other way to go about it."</p> + + +<h2>X</h2> +<p><span class="p1">S</span>t. Louis hadn't been hit during the Holocaust; it still retained much of +the old-fashioned flavor of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, +especially in the residential districts. Bart Stanton liked to walk along +those quiet streets of an evening, just to let the peacefulness seep into +him. And, knowing it was rather childish, he still enjoyed the small +pleasure of playing hookey from the Neurophysics Institute. Technically, +he supposed, he was still a patient there. More, now that he had accepted +Colonel Mannheim's assignment, he was presumably under military +discipline. But he assumed that, if he had asked permission to leave the +Institute's grounds, he would have been given that permission without +question.</p> + +<p>But, like playing hookey, or stealing watermelon, it was more fun if it +was done on the sly. The boy who comes home feeling deliciously wicked +and delightfully sinful after staying away from school all day can have +his whole day ruined by being told that it was a holiday and that the +school had been closed. Bart Stanton didn't want to spoil his own fun by +asking for permission to leave the grounds when it was so easy for a man +with his special abilities to get out without asking.</p> + +<p>Besides, there <i>was</i> a chance—a small one, he thought—that permission +might be refused for one reason or another, and Bart was fully aware that +he would not disobey a direct request—to say nothing of a direct +order—that he stay within the walls of the Institute. He didn't want to +run any risk of losing his freedom, small though it was. After five years +of mental and physical hell, he felt a need to get out into the world of +normal, everyday people.</p> + +<p>His legs moved smoothly, surely, and unhurriedly, carrying him aimlessly +along the resilient walkway, under the warm glow of the street lights. The +people around him walked as casually and with seemingly as little purpose +as he did. There was none of the brisk sense of urgency that he felt +inside the walls of the Institute.</p> + +<p>He knew he could never get away from that sense of urgency completely, +even out here. There were times when it seemed that all he had ever done, +all his life, was to train himself for the single purpose of besting the +Nipe.</p> + +<p>If he wasn't training physically, he was listening to lectures from the +psychologists or from Colonel Mannheim—laying plans and considering +possibilities for the one great goal that seemed to be the focal point of +his whole life.</p> + +<p>What would happen if he failed? He would die, of course, and Mannheim's +Plan Beta would immediately go into effect. The Nipe would be killed +eventually.</p> + +<p>But what if he, Stanton, won? Then what?</p> + +<p>The people around him were not a part of his world, really. Their +thoughts, their motions, their reactions, were slow and clumsy in +comparison with his own. Once the Nipe had been conquered, what purpose +would there be in the life of Bartholomew Stanton? He was surrounded by +people, but he was not one of them. He was immersed in a society that was +not his own because it was not, could not be, geared to his abilities and +potentials. But there was no other society to turn to, either.</p> + +<p>He was not a man "alone, afraid" in a world he had never made; he was a +man who had been made for a world, a society, that did not exist.</p> + +<p>Women? A wife? A family life?</p> + +<p>Where? With whom?</p> + +<p>He pushed the thoughts from his mind, the questions, unanswered and +perhaps unanswerable. In spite of the apparent bleakness of the future, he +had no desire to die, and there was the possibility that too much brooding +of that kind would evoke a subconscious reaction that could slow him down +or cause a wrong decision at a vital moment. A feeling of futility could +operate to bring on his death in spite of his conscious determination to +win the coming battle with the Nipe.</p> + +<p>The Nipe was his first duty. When that job was finished, he would consider +the problem of himself. Just because he could not now see the answer to +that problem did not mean that no answer existed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>He suddenly realized that he was hungry. He had been walking through +Memorial Park, past the museum, an old, worn edifice that was still called +the Missouri Pacific Building. There was a small restaurant only a block +away. He reached into his pocket and took out the few coins that were +there. Not much, but enough to buy a sandwich and a glass of milk. Because +of the trust fund that had been set up when he had started the treatment +at the Neurophysics Institute, he was already well off, but he didn't have +much cash. What good was cash in the Institute, where everything was +provided?</p> + +<p>He stopped at a news-vendor, dropped in a coin, and waited for the +reproducing mechanism to turn out a fresh paper. Then he took the folded +sheets and went on to the restaurant.</p> + +<p>He rarely read a news-sheet. Mostly, his information about the world that +existed outside the walls of the Institute came from the televised +newscasts. But, occasionally, he liked to read the small, relatively +unimportant little stories about people who had done small, relatively +unimportant things—stories that didn't appear in the headlines or on the +newscasts.</p> + +<p>The last important news story had come two nights before, when the Nipe +had robbed an optical products company in Miami. The camera had shown the +shop on the screen. Whatever had been used to blow open the door of the +vault had been more effective than necessary. It had taken the whole front +door of the shop and both windows, too. The bent and twisted paraglass +that had lain on the pavement showed how much force had been applied from +within.</p> + +<p>And yet, the results were not that of an explosion. It was more as though +some tremendous force had <i>pushed</i> outward from within. It had not been +the shattering shock of high explosive, but some great thrust that had +unhurriedly, but irresistibly, moved everything out of its way.</p> + +<p>Nothing had been moved very far, as it would have been by a blast. It +appeared that everything had simply fallen aside, as though scattered by a +giant hand. The main braces of the store front were still there, bent +outward a little, but not broken.</p> + +<p>The vault door had lain on the floor of the shop, only a few feet from the +front door. The vault itself had been farther back, and the camera had +showed it, standing wide open, gaping. Inside, there had been pieces of +fragile glass standing on the shelves, unmoved, unharmed.</p> + +<p>The force, whatever it had been, had moved in one direction only, from a +point within the vault, just a few feet from the door, pushing outward to +tear out the heavy door as though it had been made of paraffin or modeling +clay.</p> + +<p>Stanton had recognized the vault construction type: the Voisier +construction, which, by test, could withstand almost everything known, +outside of the actual application of atomic energy itself. In a +widely-publicized demonstration several years before, a Voisier vault had +been cut open by a team of well-trained, well-equipped technicians. It had +taken twenty-one hours for them to breach the wall, and they had no fear +of interruption, or of making a noise, or of setting off the intricate +alarms that were built into the safe itself. Not even a borazon drill +could make much of an impression on a metal which had been formed under +millions of atmospheres of pressure.</p> + +<p>And yet the Nipe had taken that door out in a second, without much effort +at all.</p> + +<p>The crowd that had gathered at the scene of the crime had not been large. +The very thought of the Nipe kept people away from places where he was +known to have been. The specter of the Nipe evoked a fear, a primitive +fear—fear of the dark and fear of the unknown, combined with the rational +fear of a very real, very tangible danger.</p> + +<p>And yet, there <i>had</i> been a crowd of onlookers. In spite of their fear, it +is hard to keep human beings from being curious. It was known that the +Nipe didn't stay around after he had struck; and, besides, the area was +now full of armed men. So the curious came to look and to stare in +revulsion at the neat pile of gnawed and bloody bones that had been the +night watchman, carefully killed and eaten by the Nipe before he had +opened the vault.</p> + +<p><i>Thus curiosity does make fools of us all, and the native hue of caution +is crimsoned o'er by the bright red of morbid fascination.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Stanton went through the door of the automat restaurant and walked over to +the vending wall. The dining room was only about three-quarters full of +people; there were plenty of seats available. He fed coins into the proper +slots, took his sandwich and milk over to a seat in one corner and made +himself comfortable.</p> + +<p>He flipped open the newspaper and looked at the front page.</p> + +<p>And, for a moment, his brain seemed to freeze.</p> + +<p>The story itself was straightforward enough:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p> BENCHAIM KIDNAPERS</p> +<p class="p2"> NABBED!</p> +<p>STAN MARTIN DOES IT</p> +<p class="p2"> AGAIN!</p> + +<p>Ceres, June 3 (Interplanetary News Service)—The three men +and three women who allegedly kidnapped ten-year-old Shmuel +BenChaim were brought to justice today through the +single-handed efforts of Stanley Martin, famed investigator +for Lloyd's of London. The boy, held prisoner for more than +ten months on a small asteroid, was reported in very good +health.</p> + +<p>According to Lt. John Vale, of the Planetoid Police, the +kidnap gang could not have been taken by direct assault on +their hideout because of fear that the boy might be killed. +"The operation required a carefully-planned, one-man +infiltration of their hideout," he said. "Mr. Martin was the +man for the job."</p> + +<p>Labeled "the most outrageous kidnapping in history", the +affair was conceived as a long-term method of gaining +control of Heavy Metals Incorporated, controlled by Moishe +BenChaim, the boy's father. The details....</p></div> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>But Bart Stanton wasn't interested in the details. After only a glance +through the first part of the article, his eyes returned to the picture +alongside the article. The line of print beneath it identified the man in +the picture as Stanley Martin.</p> + +<p>But a voice in Bart Stanton's brain said: <i>Not Stan Martin! The name is +Mart Stanton!</i></p> + +<p>And Bartholomew felt a roar of confusion in his mind, because he didn't +know who Mart Stanton was, and because the face in the picture was his +own.</p> + + +<h2>XI</h2> +<p><span class="p1">H</span>e was walking again.</p> + +<p>He didn't quite remember how he had left the automat, and he didn't even +try to remember.</p> + +<p>He was trying to remember other things—farther back—before he had—</p> + +<p>Before he had what?</p> + +<p>Before the Institute; before the beginning of the operations.</p> + +<p>The memories were there, just beyond the grasp of his conscious mind, +like the memories of a dream after one has awakened. Each time he tried to +reach into the darkness to grasp one of the pieces, it would break up into +smaller bits. The patterns were too fragile to withstand the direct +probing of his conscious mind. Only the resulting fragments held together +long enough to be analyzed.</p> + +<p>And, while part of his mind probed frantically after the elusive particles +of memory, another part of it watched the process with semi-detached +amusement.</p> + +<p>He had always known there were holes in his memory (<i>Always? Don't be +silly, pal!</i>), but it was disconcerting to find an area that was as +riddled as a used machine-gun target. The whole fabric had been punched to +bits.</p> + +<p>No man's memory is completely available at any given time. However it is +recorded, however completely every bit of data may be recorded during a +lifetime, much of it is unavailable because it is incompletely +cross-indexed or, in some cases, labeled <i>Do Not Scan</i>. Or, +metaphorically, the file drawer may be locked. It may be that, in many +cases, if a given bit of data remains unscanned long enough it fades into +illegibility, never reinforced by the scanning process. Sensory data, +coming in from the outside world as it does, is probably permanent. But +the thought patterns originating within the mind itself, the processes +that correlate and cross-index and speculate on and hypothesize about the +sensory data, those are much more fragile. A man might glance once +through a Latin primer and have every page imprinted indelibly on his +recording mechanism and still be unable to make sense of the <i>Nauta in +cubito cum puella est</i>.</p> + +<p>Sometimes a man is aware of the holes in his memory. ("What was the name +of that fellow I met at Eddie's party? Can't remember it for the life of +me.") At other times, a memory may lay dormant and unremembered, leaving +no apparent gap, until a tag of some kind brings it up. ("That girl with +the long hair reminds me of Suzie Blugerhugle. My gosh! I haven't thought +of her for years!") Both factors seemed to be operating in Bart Stanton's +mind at this time.</p> + +<p>Incredibly, he had never, in the past year at least, had occasion to try +to remember much about his past life. He had known who he was without +thinking about it particularly, and the rest of his knowledge—language, +history, politics, geography, and so on—had been readily available for +the most part. Ask any educated man to give the product of the primes 2, +13, and 41, or ask him to give the date of the Norman Conquest, and he can +give the answer without having to think of where he learned it or who +taught it to him or when he got the information.</p> + +<p>But now the picture and the name in the paper had brought forth a reaction +in Stanton's mind, and he was trying desperately to bring the information +out of oblivion.</p> + +<p>Did he have a mother? Surely—but could he remember her? <i>Yes!</i> Certainly. +A pretty, gentle, rather sad woman. He could remember when she had died, +although he couldn't remember ever having attended the funeral.</p> + +<p>What about his father?</p> + +<p>He could find no memory of his father, and, at first, that bothered him. +He could remember his mother—could almost see her moving around in the +apartment where they had lived ... in ... in ... in Denver! Sure! And he +could remember the building itself, and the block, and even Mrs. +Frobisher, who lived upstairs! And the school! A great many memories came +crowding back, but there was no trace of his father.</p> + +<p>And yet....</p> + +<p>Oh, of <i>course</i>! His father had been killed in an accident when Martinbart +were very young.</p> + +<p><i>Martinbart!</i></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_007.jpg" width="400" height="386" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>The name flitted through his mind like a scrap of paper in a high wind, +but he reached out and grasped it.</p> + +<p>Martinbart. Martin-Bart. Mart 'n' Bart. Mart <i>and</i> Bart.</p> + +<p>The Stanton Twins.</p> + +<p>It was curious, he thought, that he should have forgotten his brother. And +even more curious that the name in the paper had not brought him instantly +to mind.</p> + +<p>Martin, the cripple. Martin, the boy with the radiation-shattered nervous +system. The boy who had had to stay in a therapy chair all his life +because his efferent nerves could not control his body. The boy who +couldn't speak. Or, rather, <i>wouldn't</i> speak because he was ashamed of the +gibberish that resulted.</p> + +<p>Martin. The nonentity. The nothing. The nobody.</p> + +<p>The one who watched and listened and thought, but could do nothing.</p> + +<p>Bart Stanton stopped suddenly and unfolded the newspaper again under the +glow of the street lamp. His memories certainly didn't gibe with <i>this</i>!</p> + +<p>His eyes ran down the column of type.</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"... Mr. Martin has, in the eighteen months since he came to the Belt, run +up an enviable record, both as an insurance investigator and as a police +detective, although his connection with the Planetoid Police is, +necessarily, an unofficial one. Probably not since Sherlock Holmes has +there been such mutual respect and co-operation between the official +police and a private investigator."</p> + +<p>The was only one explanation, Stanton thought. Martin, too, had been +treated by the Institute. His memory was still blurry and incomplete, but +he did suddenly remember that a decision had been made for Martin to take +the treatment.</p> + +<p>He chuckled a little at the irony of it. They hadn't been able to make a +superman of Martin, but they <i>had</i> been able to make a normal and +extraordinarily capable man of him. Now it was Bart who was the freak, the +odd one.</p> + +<p><i>Turn about is fair play,</i> he thought. But somehow it didn't seem quite +fair.</p> + +<p>He crumpled the newspaper, dropped it into a nearby waste chute, and +walked on through the night toward the Neurophysical Institute.</p> + + +<h2>XII</h2> +<h4>INTERLUDE</h4> +<p><span class="p1">Y</span>ou understand, Mrs. Stanton," said the psychiatrist, "that a great part +of Martin's trouble is mental as much as physical. Because of the nature +of his ailment, he has withdrawn, pulled himself away from communication +with others. If these symptoms had been brought to my attention earlier, +the mental disturbance might have been more easily analyzed and treated."</p> + +<p>"I'm sorry, Doctor," said Mrs. Stanton. Her manner betrayed weariness and +pain. "It was so—so difficult. Martin could never talk very well, you +know, and he just talked less and less as the years went by. It was so +gradual that I never really noticed it."</p> + +<p><i>Poor woman</i>, the doctor thought. <i>She's not well, herself. She should +have married again, rather than carry the whole burden alone. Her role as +a doting mother hasn't helped either of the boys to overcome the handicaps +that were already present.</i></p> + +<p>"I've tried to do my best for Martin," Mrs. Stanton went on unhappily. +"And so has Bart. When they were younger, Bart used to take him out all +the time. They went everywhere together. Of course, I don't expect Bart to +do that so much any more; he has his own life to live. He can't take +Martin out on dates or things like that. But when he's home, Bart helps me +with Martin all the time."</p> + +<p>"I understand," said the doctor. <i>This is no time to tell her that +Bartholomew's tests indicate that he has subconsciously resented Martin's +presence for a long time. She has enough to worry about.</i></p> + +<p>"I don't understand," said Mrs. Stanton, breaking into sudden tears. "I +don't understand why Martin should behave this way! Why should he just sit +there with his eyes closed and ignore us both?"</p> + +<p>The doctor comforted her in a warmly professional manner, then, as her +tears subsided, he said: "We don't understand all of the factors +ourselves, Mrs. Stanton. Martin's reactions are, I admit, unusual. His +behavior doesn't quite follow the pattern that we usually expect from such +cases as this. His physical disability has drastically modified the course +of his mental development, and, at the same time, makes it difficult for +us to make any analysis of is mental state."</p> + +<p>"Is there <i>any</i>thing you can do, Doctor?"</p> + +<p>"We don't know yet," he said gently. He considered for a moment, then +said: "Mrs. Stanton, I'd like for you to leave both the boys here for a +few days, so that we can perform further tests. That will help us a great +deal in getting at the root of Martin's trouble."</p> + +<p>She looked at him with a little surprise. "Why, yes, of course. But ... +why should Bart stay?"</p> + +<p>The doctor weighed his words carefully before he spoke.</p> + +<p>"Bart is our control, Mrs. Stanton. Since the boys are genetically +identical, they should have been a great deal alike in personality if it +hadn't been for Martin's accident. In other words, our tests of Bart will +tell us what Martin <i>should</i> be like. That way we can tell just how much +and in what way Martin deviates from what he should ideally be. Do you +understand?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Yes, I see. All right, Doctor—whatever you say."</p> + +<p>After Mrs. Stanton had left, the psychiatrist sat quietly in his chair and +stared thoughtfully at his desk top for several minutes. Then, making his +decision, he picked up a small book that lay on his desk and looked up a +number in Arlington, Virginia. He punched out the number on his phone, and +when the face appeared on his screen, he said: "Hello, Sidney. Look, I +have a very interesting case out here that I'd like to talk to you about. +Do you happen to have a telepath who's strong enough to take a meshing +with an insane mind? If my suspicions are correct, I'll need a man with an +impregnable sense of identity, because he's going to get into the weirdest +situation I've ever come across."</p> + + +<h2>XIII</h2> +<p><i>Pok! Pok! Ping!</i></p> + +<p><i>Pok! Pok! Ping!</i></p> + +<p><i>Pok! Pok! Ping!</i></p> + +<p>The action in the handball court was beautiful to watch. The robot +mechanism behind Bart Stanton would fire out a ball at random intervals +ranging from a tenth to a quarter of a second, bouncing them off the wall +in a random pattern. Stanton would retrieve the ball before it hit the +ground, bounce it off the wall again to strike the target on the moving +robot. Stanton had to work against a machine; no ordinary human being +could have given him any competition.</p> + +<p><i>Pok! Pok! Ping!</i></p> + +<p><i>Pok! Pok! Ping!</i></p> + +<p><i>Pok! Pok! PLUNK.</i></p> + +<p>"One miss," Stanton said to himself. But he fielded the next one nicely +and slammed it home.</p> + +<p><i>Pok! Pok! Ping!</i></p> + +<p>The physical therapist who was standing by glanced at his watch. It was +almost time.</p> + +<p><i>Pok! Pok! Ping!</i></p> + +<p>The machine, having delivered its last ball, shut itself off with a smug +click. Stanton turned away from the handball court and walked toward the +physical therapist, who held out a robe for him.</p> + +<p>"That was good, Bart," he said, "real good."</p> + +<p>"One miss," Stanton said as he shrugged into the robe.</p> + +<p>"Yeah. Your timing was a shade off there, I guess. But you ran a full +minute over your previous record."</p> + +<p>Stanton looked at him. "You re-set the timer again," he said accusingly. +But there was a grin on his face.</p> + +<p>The P.T. man grinned back. "Yup. Come on, step into the mummy case." He +waved toward the narrow niche in the wall of the court, a niche just big +enough to hold a standing man. Stanton stepped in, and various instrument +pick-ups came out of the walls and touched his body. Hidden machines +recorded his heartbeat, blood pressure, brain activity, muscular tension, +and several other factors.</p> + +<p>After a minute, the P.T. man said, "O.K., Bart; let's hit the steam box."</p> + +<p>Stanton stepped out of the niche and accompanied the therapist to another +room, where he took off the robe again and sat down on the small stool +inside an ordinary steam box. The box closed, leaving his head free, and +the box began to fill with steam.</p> + +<p>"Did I ever tell you what I don't like about that machine?" Bart asked as +the therapist draped a heavy towel around his head.</p> + +<p>"Nope. Didn't know you had any gripe. What is it?"</p> + +<p>"You can't gloat after you beat it. You can't walk over and pat it on the +shoulder and say, 'Well, better luck next time, old man.' It isn't a good +loser, and it isn't a bad loser. The damn thing doesn't even know it lost, +and if it did, it wouldn't care."</p> + +<p>"I see what you mean," said the P.T. man, chuckling. "You beat the pants +off it and what d'you get? Not even a case of the sulks out of it."</p> + +<p>"Exactly. And what's worse, I know perfectly good and well that it's only +half trying. The damned thing could beat me easily if you just turned that +knob over a little more."</p> + +<p>"You're not competing against the machine, anyway," the therapist said. +"You're competing against yourself, trying to beat your own record."</p> + +<p>"I know. And what happens when I can't do <i>that</i> any more, either?" +Stanton asked. "I can't just go on getting better and better forever. I've +got limits, you know."</p> + +<p>"Sure," said the therapist easily. "So does a golf player. But every +golfer goes out and practices by himself to try to beat his own record."</p> + +<p>"Bunk! The real fun in <i>any</i> game is beating someone else! The big kick in +golf is in winning over the other guy in a twosome."</p> + +<p>"How about crossword puzzles or solitaire?"</p> + +<p>"Solve a crossword puzzle, and you've beaten the guy who made it up. In +solitaire, you're playing against the laws of chance, and even that can +become pretty boring. What I'd like to do is get out on the golf course +with someone else and do my best and then lose. Honestly."</p> + +<p>"With a handicap...." the therapist began. Then he grinned weakly and +stopped. On the golf course, Stanton was impossibly good. One long drive +to the green, one putt to the cup. An easy thirty-six strokes for eighteen +holes; an occasional hole-in-one sometimes brought him below that, an +occasional worm-cast or stray wind sometimes raised his score.</p> + +<p>"Sure," Stanton said. "A handicap. What kind of handicap do you want on a +handball game with me?"</p> + +<p>The P.T. man could imagine himself trying to get under one of Stanton's +lightning-like returns. The thought of what would happen to his hand if he +were to accidentally catch one made him wince.</p> + +<p>"We wouldn't even be playing the same game," Stanton said.</p> + +<p>The therapist stepped back and looked at Stanton. "You know," he said +puzzledly, "you sound bitter."</p> + +<p>"Sure I'm bitter," Stanton said. "All I get is exercise. All the fun has +gone out of it." He sighed and grinned. There was no point in worrying the +P.T. man. "I'll just have to stick to cards and chess if I want +competition. Speed and strength don't help anything if I'm holding two +pair against three of a kind."</p> + +<p>Before the therapist could say anything, the door opened and a tall, lean +man stepped into the fog-filled room. "You are broiling a lobster?" he +asked the P.T. blandly.</p> + +<p>"Steaming a clam," came the correction. "When he's done, I'll pound him to +chowder."</p> + +<p>"Excellent. I came for a clam-bake," the tall man said.</p> + +<p>"You're early then, George," Stanton said. He didn't feel in the mood for +light humor, and the appearance of Dr. Yoritomo did nothing to improve his +humor.</p> + +<p>George Yoritomo beamed, crinkling up his heavy-lidded eyes. "Ah! A talking +clam! Excellent! How much longer does he have to cook?"</p> + +<p>"Twenty-three minutes, why?"</p> + +<p>"Would you be so good as to return at the end of that time?"</p> + +<p>The therapist opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and said: +"Sure, Doc. I can get some other stuff done. I'll see you then. I'll be +back, Bart." He went out through the far door.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="p1">A</span>fter the door closed, Dr. Yoritomo pulled up a chair and sat down. "New +developments," he said, "as you may have surmised."</p> + +<p>"I guessed," Stanton said. "What is it?" He flexed his muscles under the +caress of the hot, moist currents in the box.</p> + +<p>He wondered why it was so important that the psychologist interrupt him +while he was relaxing after strenuous exercise. Yoritomo looked excited, +in spite of his calm. And yet Stanton knew that there couldn't be anything +urgent or Yoritomo would have acted differently.</p> + +<p>It was relatively unimportant now, anyway, Stanton thought. Having made +his decision to act on his own had changed his reaction to the decisions +of others.</p> + +<p>Yoritomo leaned forward in his chair, his thin lips in an excited smile, +his black-irised eyes sparkling. "I had to come tell you. The sheer, utter +beauty of it is too much to contain. Three times in a row was almost +absolute, Bart; the probability that our hypothesis is correct was +computed as straight nines to seven decimals. But now! The fourth time! +Straight nines to <i>twelve</i> decimals!"</p> + +<p>Scanton lifted an eyebrow. "Your Oriental calm is deserting you, George. +I'm not reading you."</p> + +<p>Yoritomo's smile became broader. "Ah! Sorry. I refer to the theory we have +been discussing—about the memory of the Nipe. You know?"</p> + +<p>Stanton knew. Dr. Yoritomo was, in effect, one of his training +instructors. <i>Advanced Alien Psychology,</i> Stanton thought; <i>Seminar +Course. The Mental Whys & Wherefores of the Nipe, or How to Outthink the +Enemy in Twelve Easy Lessons. Instructor: Dr. George Yoritomo.</i></p> + +<p>After six years of watching the recorded actions of the Nipe, Yoritomo had +evolved a theory about the kind of mentality that lay behind the four +baleful violet eyes in that alien head. Now he evidently had proof of that +theory. He was smiling and rubbing his long, bony hands together. For +George Yoritomo, that was the equivalent of hysterical excitement.</p> + +<p>"We have been able to predict the behavior of the Nipe!" he said. "For the +fourth time in succession!"</p> + +<p>"Great. But how does that fit in with that rule you once told me about? +You know, the one about experimental animals."</p> + +<p>"Ah, yes. The Harvard Law. 'A genetically standardized strain, under +precisely controlled laboratory conditions, when subjected to carefully +calibrated stimuli, will behave as it damned well pleases.' Yes. Very +true.</p> + +<p>"But an animal could not do otherwise, could it? Only as it pleases. And +it could not please to behave as something it is not, could it?"</p> + +<p>"Draw me a picture," Stanton said.</p> + +<p>"I mean that any organism is limited in its choice of behavior. A hamster, +for instance, cannot choose to behave in the manner of a Rhesus monkey. A +dog cannot choose to react as a mouse would. If I prick a rat with a +needle, it may squeal, or bite, or jump—but it will not bark. Never. Nor +will it leap up to a trapeze, hang by its tail, and chatter curses at me. +Never.</p> + +<p>"By observing an organism's reactions, one can begin to see a pattern. If +you tell me that you put an armful of hay into a certain animal's +enclosure, and that the animal trotted over, ate the hay, and brayed, I +can tell you with reasonable certainty that the animal has long ears. Do +you see?"</p> + +<p>"You haven't been able to pinpoint the Nipe that easily, have you?" +Stanton asked.</p> + +<p>"Ah, no. The more intelligent a creature is, the greater its scope of +action. The Nipe is far from being so simple as a monkey or a hamster. On +the other hand—" He smiled widely, showing bright, white teeth. "—he is +not so bright as a human being."</p> + +<p>"<i>What!?</i> I wouldn't say he was exactly stupid, George. What about all +those prize gadgets of his?" He blinked. "Wipe the sweat off my forehead, +will you? It's running into my eyes."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Dr. Yoritomo wiped with the towel as he continued. "Ah, yes. He is quite +capable in that respect, my friend. It is his great memory—at once his +finest asset and his greatest curse."</p> + +<p>He draped the towel around Stanton's head again and stepped back, his face +unsmiling. "Imagine having a near-perfect memory."</p> + +<p>Stanton's jaw muscles tightened. "I think I'd like it."</p> + +<p>Yoritomo shrugged slightly. "Perhaps you would. But it would not be the +asset you think. Look at it soberly, my friend.</p> + +<p>"The most difficult teaching job in the universe is the attempt to teach +an organism something it already knows. True? Yes. If a man already knows +the shape of the Earth, it will do you no good to attempt to teach him. If +he <i>knows</i> that the Earth is flat, your contention that it is round will +make no impression whatever. He <i>knows</i>, you see. He <i>knows</i>.</p> + +<p>"Now. Imagine a race with a perfect memory—one which does not fade. A +memory in which each bit of data is as bright and fresh as the moment it +was imprinted, and as readily available as the data stored in a robot's +mind. It is, in effect, a robotic memory.</p> + +<p>"If you put false data into the memory bank of a computer—such as telling +it that the square of two is five—you cannot correct the error simply by +telling it that the square of two is four. You must first remove the +erroneous data, not so?</p> + +<p>"Very good. Then let us look at the Nipe race, wherever it was spawned in +this universe. Let us look at their race a long time back—when they first +became <i>Nipe sapiens</i>. Back when they first developed a true language. +Each child, as it is born or hatched or budded—whatever it is they do—is +taught as rapidly as possible all the things it must know to survive. And +once it is taught a thing, it <i>knows</i>. And if it is taught a falsehood, +then it cannot be taught the truth."</p> + +<p>"Wouldn't cold reality force a change?" Stanton asked.</p> + +<p>"Ah. In some cases, yes. In most, no. Look: Suppose a primordial Nipe runs +across a tiger—or whatever passes for a tiger on their planet. He has +never seen a tiger before, so he does not see that this particular tiger +is old, ill, and weak. He hits it on the head, and it drops dead. He takes +it home for the family to feed on.</p> + +<p>"'How did you kill it, Papa?'"</p> + +<p>"'I walked up to it, bashed it on the noggin, and it died. That is the way +to kill tigers.'"</p> + +<p>Yoritomo smiled. "It is also a good way to kill Nipes. Eh?" He took the +towel and wiped Stanton's brow again.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_008.jpg" width="400" height="370" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"The error," he continued, "was made when Papa Nipe generalized from <i>one</i> +tiger to <i>all</i> tigers. If tigers were rare, this bit of lore might be +passed on for many generations. Those who learned that most tigers are +<i>not</i> conquered by walking up to them and hitting them on the noggin +undoubtedly died before they could pass this bit of information on. Then, +one day, a Nipe survived the ordeal. His mind now contained conflicting +information, which must be resolved. He <i>knows</i> that tigers are killed in +this way. He also <i>knows</i> that this one did not die. Plainly, then, <i>this</i> +one is not a tiger. Ha! He has the solution!</p> + +<p>"What does he tell his children? Why, first he tells them how tigers are +killed. Then he warns them that there is an animal that looks <i>just like</i> +a tiger, but is <i>not</i> a tiger. One should not make the mistake of thinking +it <i>is</i> a tiger or one will get badly hurt. Since the only way to tell the +true tiger from the false is to hit it, and since that test may prove +fatal to the Nipe who tries it, it follows that one is better off if one +avoids all animals that look like tigers. You see?"</p> + +<p>"Yeah," said Stanton. "Some snarks are boojums."</p> + +<p>"Exactly! Thank you for that allusion. I must remember to use it in my +report."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me to follow," Stanton said musingly, "that there would be +some things that they'd never learn the truth about, once they'd gotten a +wrong idea in their heads."</p> + +<p>"Ah! Indeed. It is precisely that which led me to formulate my theory in +the first place. How else to explain the fact that the Nipe, for all his +technical knowledge, is still in the ancient ritual-taboo stage of +development?"</p> + +<p>"A savage?"</p> + +<p>Yoritomo smiled. "As to his savagery, I think no one on Earth would +disagree. But they are not the same thing. What I do mean is that the Nipe +is undoubtedly the most superstitious and bigoted being on the face of +this planet."</p> + + +<h2>XIV</h2> +<p><span class="p1">T</span>here was a knock at the door, and the physical therapist put his head in. +"Sorry to interrupt, but the clam is done. I'll give him a rubdown, Doc, +and you can have him back."</p> + +<p>"Excellent. Would you come up to my office, Bart, as soon as you've had +your mauling?"</p> + +<p>"Sure. I'll be right up."</p> + +<p>Yoritomo left, and the P.T. man opened the steam box. "Feel O.K., Bart?"</p> + +<p>"Yeah, sure," he said abstractedly as he got up on the rubdown table and +lay prone. The therapist saw that Stanton was in no mood for conversation, +so he proceeded with the massage in silence.</p> + +<p>For the first time, Stanton was seeing the Nipe as an individual, as a +person, as a thinking, feeling being.</p> + +<p><i>We have a great deal in common, you and I, he thought. Except that you're +a lot worse off than I am.</i></p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>I'm actually feeling sorry for the poor guy, Stanton thought. Which, I +suppose, is better than feeling sorry for myself. The only difference +between us freaks is that you're a bigger freak than I am. "Molly O'Grady +and the Colonel's lady are sisters under the skin."</p> + +<p>Where'd that come from? Something I learned in school, I guess—like the +snarks and boojums.</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He would answer to Hi! or to any loud cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Such as Fry me! or Fritter my wig!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Who was that? The snark? No.</p> + +<p><i>Damn</i> this memory of mine!</p> + +<p>Or can I even call it mine when I can't even use it?</p> + +<p class="blockquot">"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know +in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known."</p> + +<p>Another jack-in-the-box thought popping up from nowhere.</p> + +<p>The only way I'll ever get all this stuff straightened out is to get more +information. And it doesn't look as though anyone is going to give it to +me on a platter. The Institute seems to be awfully chary about giving +information away. George even had to chase away old rub-and-pound, here +(That feels good!) before he would talk about the Nipe. Can't blame 'em +for that, I guess. There'd be hell to pay if the public ever found out +that the Nipe has been kept as a pet for six years.</p> + +<p>How many people has he killed in that time? Twenty? Thirty? How much blood +does Colonel Mannheim have on his hands?</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Though they know not why,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or for what they give,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still, the few must die,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That the many may live."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>I wonder whether I read all that stuff complete or just browsed through a +copy of Bartlett's Quotations. Fragments.</p> + +<p>We've got to get organized here, brother. Colonel Mannheim's little puppet +is going to cut his strings and do a Pinocchio.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>"O.K., Bart," the P.T. said, giving Stanton a final slap, "you're all set. +See you tomorrow."</p> + +<p>"Right. Gimme my clothes."</p> + +<p>Stanton dressed and took the elevator up to Yoritomo's office. This +section of the building was off-limits to the other patients in the +Institute, but Stanton, the star border, had free rein.</p> + +<p>Not that it mattered, one way or another. There wasn't any way they could +have stopped him. Aside from the fact that he was physically capable of +going through or around almost any guards they wanted to put up, there was +also the little matter of gentle blackmail. When a man is genuinely +indispensable, he can work wonders by threatening to drop the whole +business.</p> + +<p>He felt as though he had been slowly awakening from a long sleep. At +first, he had accepted as natural that he should obey orders and do as he +was told without question, as thought he had been drugged or hypnotized.</p> + +<p><i>And it's very likely they subjected me to both at one time or another,</i> +he told himself.</p> + +<p>But now his brain was beginning to function again, and the need to know +was strong in his mind.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>Dr. Yoritomo was sitting in one of the big, soft chairs, puffing at his +pipe, but he leaped to his feet when Stanton came in.</p> + +<p>"Ah! About the ritual-taboo culture of the Nipe! Yes. Sit down. Yes. So. +Do you find it impossible that a high technology could be present in such +a system?"</p> + +<p>"No. I've been thinking about it."</p> + +<p>"Ah, so." He sat down again. "Then <i>you</i> will please tell <i>me</i>."</p> + +<p>"Well, let's see. In the first place, let's take religion. In tribal +cultures, religion is—uh—animistic, I think the word is."</p> + +<p>Yoritomo nodded silently.</p> + +<p>"There are spirits everywhere," Scanton went on. "That sort of belief, it +seems to me, would grow up in any race that had imagination, and the Nipes +must have plenty of that, or they wouldn't have the technology they do +have."</p> + +<p>"Very good. <i>Very</i> good. But what evidence have you that this technology +was not given them by some other race?"</p> + +<p>"I hadn't thought of that." Stanton stared into space for a moment, then +nodded his head. "Of course. It would take too long for another race to +teach it to them; it wouldn't be worth the trouble unless this +hypothetical other race killed off all the adult Nipes and started the +little ones off fresh. And if that had happened, their ritual-taboo system +would have disappeared, too."</p> + +<p>"That argument is imperfect," Yoritomo said, "but it will do for the +moment. Go on with the religion."</p> + +<p>"O.K.; religious beliefs are not subject to pragmatic tests. That is, the +spiritual beliefs aren't. Any belief that <i>could</i> be disproven would +eventually die out. But beliefs in ghosts or demons or angels or life +after death aren't disprovable. So, as a race increases its knowledge of +the physical world, its religion tends to become more and more spiritual."</p> + +<p>"Agreed. Yes. But how do you link this with ritual-taboo?"</p> + +<p>"Well, once a belief gains a foothold, it's hard to wipe it out, even +among humans. Among Nipes, it would be well-nigh impossible. Once a code +of ritual and social behavior was set up, it became permanent."</p> + +<p>"For example?" Yoritomo urged.</p> + +<p>"Well, shaking hands, for example. We still do that, even if we don't have +it fixed solidly in our heads that we <i>must</i> do it. I suppose it would +never occur to a Nipe not to perform such a ritual."</p> + +<p>"Just so," Yoritomo agreed vigorously. "Such things, once established, +would tend to remain. But it is a characteristic of a ritual-taboo system +that it resists change. How, then, do you account for their high +technological achievements?"</p> + +<p>"The pragmatic engineering approach, I imagine. If a thing works, it is +usable. If not, it isn't."</p> + +<p>"Very good. Now it is my turn to lecture." He put his pipe in an ash tray +and held up a long, bony finger. "Firstly, we must remember that the Nipe +is equipped with an imagination. Secondly, he has in his memory a +tremendous amount of data, all ready at hand. He is capable of working out +theories in his head, you see. Like the ancient Greeks, he finds no need +to test such theories—<i>unless</i> his thinking indicates that such an +experiment would yield something useful. Unlike the Greeks, he has no +aversion to experiment. But he sees no need for useless experiment, +either.</p> + +<p>"Oh, he would learn, yes. But, once a given theory proved workable, how +resistant he would be to a new theory. How long—how <i>incredibly</i> long—it +would take such a race to achieve the technology the Nipe now has!"</p> + +<p>"Hundreds of thousands of years," said Stanton.</p> + +<p>Yoritomo shook his head briskly. "Puh! Longer! Much longer!" He smiled +with satisfaction. "I estimate that the Nipe race first invented the steam +engine not less than ten million years ago." He kept smiling into the dead +silence that followed.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="p1">A</span>fter a long minute, Scanton said: "What about atomic energy?"</p> + +<p>"At least two million years ago. I do not think they have had the +interstellar drive more than fifty thousand years."</p> + +<p>"No wonder our pet Nipe is so patient," Stanton said wonderingly. "I +wonder what their individual life span is."</p> + +<p>"Not long, in comparison," said Yoritomo. "Perhaps no longer than our own, +perhaps five hundred years. Considering their handicaps, they have done +quite well. Quite well, indeed, for a race of illiterate cannibals."</p> + +<p>"How's that again?" Stanton realized that the scientist was quite serious.</p> + +<p>"Hadn't it occurred to you, my friend, that they must be cannibals? And +that they are very nearly illiterate?"</p> + +<p>"No," Stanton admitted, "it hadn't."</p> + +<p>"The Nipe, like Man, is omnivorous. Specialization tends to lead any race +up a blind alley, and dietary restrictions are a particularly pernicious +form of specialization. A lion would starve to death in a wheat field. A +horse would perish in a butcher shop full of steaks. A man will survive as +long as there's something around to eat—even if it's another man.</p> + +<p>"Also, Man, early in his career as top dog on Earth, began using a method +of increasing the viability of the race by removing the unfit. It survives +today in some societies. Before and immediately after the Holocaust, there +were still primitive societies on Earth which made a rather hard ordeal +out of the Rite of Passage—the ceremony that enabled a boy to become a +Man, if he passed the tests.</p> + +<p>"A few millennia ago, a boy was killed outright if failed. And eaten.</p> + +<p>"The Nipe race must, of necessity, have had some similar ritualistic tests +or they would not have become what they are. And we have already agreed +that, once the Nipes adopted something of that kind, it remained with +them, not so? Yes.</p> + +<p>"Also, it is extremely unlikely that the Nipe civilisation—if such it can +be called—has any geriatric problem. No old age pensions, no old folks' +homes, no senility. When a Nipe becomes a burden because of age, he is +ritually murdered and eaten with due solemnity.</p> + +<p>"Ah. You frown, my friend. Have I made them sound heartless, without the +finer feelings that we humans are so proud of? Not so. When Junior Nipe +fails his puberty tests, when Mama and Papa Nipe are sent to their final +reward, I have no doubt that there is sadness in the hearts of their loved +ones as the honored T-bones are passed around the table.</p> + +<p>"My own ancestors, not too far back, performed a ritual suicide by +disemboweling themselves with a sharp knife. Across the abdomen—so!—and +up into the heart—so! It was considered very bad form to die or faint +before the job was done. Nearby, a relative or close friend stood with a +sharp sword, to administer the <i>coup de grace</i> by decapitation. It was all +very sad and very honorable. Their loved ones bore the sorrow with pride."</p> + +<p>His voice, which had been low and tender, suddenly became very brisk. +"Thank goodness it's gone out of fashion!"</p> + +<p>"But how can you be <i>sure</i> they're cannibals?" Stanton asked. "Your +argument sounds logical enough, but logic alone isn't enough."</p> + +<p>"True! True!" Yoritomo jabbed the air twice with his finger. "Evidence +would be most welcome, would it not? Very well, I give you the evidence. +He eats human beings, our Nipe."</p> + +<p>"That doesn't make him a cannibal."</p> + +<p>"Not <i>strictly</i>, perhaps. But consider. The Nipe is not a monster. He is +not a criminal. No. He is a gentleman. He behaves as a gentleman. He is +shipwrecked on an alien planet. Around his, he sees evidence that ours is +a technological society. But that is a contradiction! A paradox!</p> + +<p>"For <i>we</i> are not civilized! No! We are not rational! We are not sane! We +do not obey the Laws, we do not perform the Rituals. We are animals. +Apparently intelligent animals, but animals never the less. How can this +be?</p> + +<p>"Ha! Says the Nipe to himself. These animals must be ruled over by Real +People. It is the only explanation. Not so?"</p> + +<p>"Colonel Mannheim mentioned that. Are you implying that the Nipe thinks +that there are other Nipes around, running the world from secret hideouts, +like the Fu Manchu novel?"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_001.jpg" width="400" height="537" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>"Not quite. The Nipe is not incapable of learning something new; in fact, +he is quite good at it, as witness the fact that he has learned many Earth +languages. He picked up Russian in less then eight months simply by +listening and observing. Like our own race, his undoubtedly evolved many +languages during the beginnings of its progress—when there were many +tribes, separated and out of communication. It would not surprise me to +find that most of those languages have survived and that our distressed +astronaut knows them all. A new language would not distress him.</p> + +<p>"Nor would strangely-shaped intelligent beings distress him. His race +should be aware, by now, that such things exist. But it is very likely +that he equates <i>true</i> intelligence with technology, and I do not think he +has ever met a race higher than the barbarian level before. Such races +were not, of course, human—by his definition. They showed possibilities, +perhaps, but they had not evolved far enough. Considering the time span +involved, it is not at all unlikely that the Nipe thinks of technology as +something that evolves with a race in the same way intelligence does—or +the body itself.</p> + +<p>"So it would not surprise him to find that the Real People of this system +were humanoid in shape. That is something new, and he can absorb it. It +does not contradict anything he <i>knows</i>.</p> + +<p>"<i>But—!</i> Any truly intelligent being which did not obey the Law and +follow the Ritual <i>would</i> be a contradiction in terms. For he has no +notion of a Real Person without those characteristics. Without those +characteristics, technology is impossible. Since he sees technology all +around him, it follows that there must be Real People with those +characteristics. Anything else is unthinkable."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that you're building an awfully involved theory out of +pretty flimsy stuff," Stanton said.</p> + +<p>Yoritomo shook his head. "Not at all. All evidence points to it. Why, do +you suppose, does the Nipe conscientiously devour his victims, often +risking his own safety to do so? Why do you suppose he never uses any +weapons but his own hands to kill with?</p> + +<p>"Why? To tell the Real People that he is a gentleman!"</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>It made perfect sense, Stanton thought. It fitted every known fact, as far +as he knew. Still—</p> + +<p>"I would think," he said, "that the Nipe would have realized, after ten +years, that there is no such race of Real People. He's had access to all +our records, and such things. Or does he reject them as lies?"</p> + +<p>"Possibly he would, if he could read them. Did I not say he was +illiterate?"</p> + +<p>"You mean he's learned to speak our languages, but not to read them?"</p> + +<p>The scientist smiled broadly. "Your statement is accurate, my friend, but +incomplete. It is my opinion that the Nipe is incapable of reading any +written language whatever. The concept does not exist in his mind, except +vaguely."</p> + +<p>"A technological race without a written language? That's impossible!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, no. Ask yourself: What need has a race with a perfect memory for +written records—at least, in the sense we know them. Certainly not to +remember things. All their history and all their technology exists in the +collective mind of the race—or, at least, most of it. I dare say that the +less important parts of their history has been glossed over and forgotten. +One important event in every ten centuries would still give a historian +ten thousand events to remember—and history is only a late development in +our own society."</p> + +<p>"How about communications?" Stanton said, "What did they use before they +invented radio?"</p> + +<p>"Ah. That is why I hedged when I said he was <i>almost</i> illiterate. There is +a possibility that a written symbology did at one time exist, for just +that purpose. If so, it has probably survived as a ritualistic form—when +an officer is appointed to a post, let's say, he may get a formal paper +that says so. They may use symbols to signify rank and so on. They +certainly must have a symbology for the calibration of scientific +instruments.</p> + +<p>"But none of these requires the complexity of a written language. I dare +say our use of it is quite baffling to him. And if he thinks of symbols as +being unable to convey much information, then he might not be able to +learn to read at all. You see?"</p> + +<p>"Where's your evidence for that?"</p> + +<p>"It is sketchy, I will admit," said Yoritomo. "It is not as solidly based +as our other reconstructions of his background. The pattern of his raids +indicates, however, that his knowledge of the materials he wants and their +locations comes from vocal sources—television advertising, +eaves-dropping, and so on. In other words, he cases the joint by ear. If +he could understand written information, his job would have been much +easier. He could have found the materials more quickly and easily. From +this evidence, we are fairly certain that he can't read any Terrestrial +writing.</p> + +<p>"Add to that the fact that he has never been observed writing down +anything himself, and the suspicion dawns that perhaps he <i>knows</i> that +symbols can only convey a very small amount of specialized information. +Eh?</p> + +<p>"As I said, it is not proof."</p> + +<p>"No. But the whole thing makes for some very interesting speculation, +doesn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Very interesting indeed." Yoritomo folded his hands in his lap, smiled +seraphically, and looked at the ceiling. "In fact, my friend, we are now +so positive of our knowledge of the Nipe's mind that we are prepared to +enter into the next phase of our program. Within a very short while, if we +are correct, we shall, with your help, arrest the most feared +arch-criminal that Earth has ever known." He chuckled, but there was +little mirth in it. "I dare say that the public will be extremely happy to +hear of his death, and I know that Colonel Mannheim and the rest of us +will be glad to know that he will never kill again."</p> + +<p>Stanton saw that the fateful day was looming suddenly large in the +future. "How soon?"</p> + +<p>"Within days." He lowered his eyes from the ceiling and looked into +Stanton's face with a mildly bland expression.</p> + +<p>"By the way," he said, "did you know that your brother is returning to +Earth tomorrow?"</p> + + +<h2>XV</h2> +<h4>INTERLUDE</h4> +<p><span class="p1">I</span>s this our young man, Dr. Farnsworth?" asked the man in uniform.</p> + +<p>"Yes, it is. Colonel Mannheim, I'd like you to meet Mr. Bartholomew +Stanton."</p> + +<p>"How are you, Mr. Stanton?"</p> + +<p>"Fine, Colonel. A little nervous."</p> + +<p>The colonel chuckled softly. "I can't say that I blame you. It's not an +easy decision to make." He looked at Dr. Farnsworth. "Has Dr. Yoritomo any +more information for us?"</p> + +<p>Farnsworth shook his head. "No. He admits that his idea is nothing more +than a wild hunch. He seems to think that five years of observing the Nipe +won't be too much time at all. We may have to act before then."</p> + +<p>"I hope not. It would be a terrible waste," said Mannheim. "Mr. Stanton, I +know that Dr. Farnsworth has outlined the entire plan to you, and I'm sure +you're aware that many things can change in five years. We may have to +play by ear long before that. Do you understand what we are doing, and why +it must be done this way?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"You know that you're not to say anything."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. Don't worry; I can keep my mouth shut."</p> + +<p>"We're pretty sure of that," the colonel said with a smile. "Your +psychometric tests showed that we were right in picking you. Otherwise, we +couldn't have told you. You understand your part in this, eh?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Any questions?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. What about my brother, Martin? I mean, well, I know what's the +matter with him. Aside from the radiation, I mean. Do you think he'll be +able to handle his part of the job after—after the operations?"</p> + +<p>"If the operations turn out as well as Dr. Farnsworth thinks they will, +yes. And, with the therapy we'll give him afterwards, he'll be in fine +shape."</p> + +<p>"Well." He looked thoughtful. "Five more years. And then I'll have the +twin brother that I never really had at all. Somehow, it doesn't really +register, I guess."</p> + +<p>"Don't worry about it, Mr. Stanton," said Dr. Farnsworth. "We've got a +complex enough job ahead of us without your worrying in the bargain. By +the way, we'll need your signature here." He handed him a pen and spread +the paper on the desk. "In triplicate."</p> + +<p>The young man read quickly through the release form. "All nice and legal, +huh? Well...." He hesitated for a moment, then bent over and wrote: +<i>Bartholomew Stanton</i> in a firm, clear hand.</p> + + +<h2>XVI</h2> +<p><span class="p1">T</span>he tunnel was long and black and the air was stale and thick with the +stench of rodents. Stanton stood still, trying to probe the luminescent +gloom that the goggles he wore brought to his eyes. The tunnel stretched +out before him—on and on. Around him was the smell of viciousness and +death. Ahead ...</p> + +<p><i>It goes on to infinity</i>, Stanton thought, <i>ending at last at zero</i>.</p> + +<p>"Barbell," said a voice near his ear, "Barhop here. Do you read?" It was +the barest whisper, picked up by the antennae in his shoes from the steel +rail that ran along the tunnel.</p> + +<p>"Read you, Barhop."</p> + +<p>"Move out, then. You've got a long stroll to go."</p> + +<p>Stanton started walking, keeping his feet near the rail, in case Barhop +wanted to call again. As he walked, he could feel the slight motion of the +skin-tight, woven elastic suit that he wore rubbing against his skin.</p> + +<p>And he could hear the scratching patter of the rats.</p> + +<p>Mostly, they stayed away from him, but he could see them hiding in corners +and scurrying along the sides of the tunnel. Around him, six rat-like +remote-control robots moved with him, shifting their pattern constantly as +they patrolled his moving figure.</p> + +<p>Far ahead, he knew, other rat robots were stationed, watching and waiting, +ready to deactivate the Nipe's detection devices at just the right moment. +Behind him, another horde moved forward to turn the devices on again.</p> + +<p>It had taken a long time to learn how to shut off those detectors without +giving the alarm to the Nipe's instruments.</p> + +<p>There were nearly a hundred men in on the operation, operating the robot +rats or watching the hidden cameras that spied upon the Nipe. Nearly a +hundred. And all of them were safe.</p> + +<p>They were outside the tunnel. They were with Stanton only in proxy. They +could not die here in this stinking hole, but Stanton could.</p> + +<p>There was no help for it. Stanton had to go in person. A full-sized robot +proxy would be stronger, although not faster unless Stanton controlled it, +than the Nipe. But the Nipe would be able to tell that it was a robot, and +he would simply destroy it with one of his weapons. A remote-controlled +robot would never get close enough to the Nipe to do any good.</p> + +<p>"We do not know," Dr. Yoritomo had said, "whether he would recognize it as +a robot or not, but his instruments would show the metal easily enough, +and his eyes might be able to see that it was not covered with human skin. +The rats are covered with real rat hides; they are small, and he is used +to seeing them around. But a human-sized robot? Ah, no. Never."</p> + +<p>So Stanton had to go in in person, walking southward, along the miles of +blackness that led to the nest of the Nipe.</p> + +<p>Overhead was Government City.</p> + +<p>He had walked those streets only the night before, and he knew that only a +short distance above him was an entirely different world.</p> + +<p>Somewhere up there, his brother was waiting after having run the gamut of +televised interviews, dinner at one of the best restaurants, and a party +afterward. A celebrity. "The greatest detective in the Solar System," +they'd called him. Fine stuff, that. Stanton wondered what the asteroids +were like. Maybe that would be the place to go after this job was done. +Maybe they'd have a place in the asteroids for a hopped-up superman.</p> + +<p>Or maybe there'd only be a place here, beneath the streets of Government +City for a dead superman.</p> + +<p><i>Not if I can help it,</i> Stanton thought with a grim smile.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p>The walking seemed to take forever, but, somehow, Stanton didn't mind it. +He had a lot to think over. Seeing his brother had been unnerving +yesterday, but today he felt as though everything had been all right all +along.</p> + +<p>His memory still was a long way from being complete, and it probably +always would be. He could still scarcely recall any real memories of a boy +named Martin Stanton, but—and he smiled at the thought—he knew more +about him than his brother did, at that.</p> + +<p>It didn't matter. That Martin Stanton was gone. In effect, he had been +demolished—what little there had been of him—and a new structure had +been built on the old foundation.</p> + +<p>And yet, in another way, the new structure was very like what would have +developed naturally if the accident so early in life had not occurred.</p> + +<p>Stanton skirted a pile of rubble on his right. There had been a station +here, once; the street above had caved in and filled in with brick, +concrete, cobblestones, and steel scrap, and then it had been sealed over +when Government City was built.</p> + +<p>A part of one wall was still unbroken, though. A sign built of tile said +<i>86th Street</i>, he knew, although it wasn't visible in the dim glow. He +kept walking, ignoring the rats that scampered over the rubble.</p> + +<p>"Barhop to Barbell," said the soft voice near his ear. "No sign of +activity from the Nipe. So far, you haven't triggered any of his alarms."</p> + +<p>"Barbell to Barhop," Stanton whispered. "What's he doing?"</p> + +<p>"Still sitting motionless. Thinking, I guess. Or sleeping. It's hard to +tell."</p> + +<p>"Let me know if he starts moving around."</p> + +<p>"Will do."</p> + +<p><i>Poor, unsuspecting beastie,</i> Stanton thought. <i>Ten years of hard work, +ten years of feeling secure, and within a very short time he's going to +get the shock of his life.</i></p> + +<p>Or maybe not. There was no way of knowing what kind of shocks the Nipe had +taken in his life, Stanton thought. Not even of knowing whether the Nipe +was capable of feeling anything like security.</p> + +<p>It was odd, he thought, that he should feel a kinship toward both the Nipe +and his brother in such similar ways. He had never met the Nipe, and his +brother was a dim picture in his old memories, but they were both very +well known to him. Certainly better known to him than he was to them.</p> + +<p>And yet, seeing his brother's face on the TV screen, hearing him talk, +watching the way he moved about, watching the expressions on his face, had +been a tremendously moving thing. Not until that moment had he really +known himself.</p> + +<p>Meeting him face to face would be easier now, but it would still be a +scene highly charged with emotional tension.</p> + +<p>He kicked something that rattled and rolled away from him. He stopped, +freezing in his tracks, trying to pierce the dully glowing gloom. It was a +human skull.</p> + +<p>He relaxed and began walking again.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/image_009.jpg" width="400" height="408" alt="" title="" /> +</div> + +<p>There were plenty of bones down here. Mannheim had said that the tunnels +had been used as air-raid shelters when the sun bomb had hit the island +during the Holocaust. Thousands had crowded underground after the warning +had come, and they had died when the bright, hot, deadly gas had roared +down through ventilators and open stairwells.</p> + +<p>There were even caches of canned goods down here, some of them still +sealed after all this time. But the rats, wiser than they knew, had chewed +at them, exposing the steel beneath the tin plate. After a while, +oxidation would weaken a can to the point where some lucky rat could bite +through it and find himself a meal. Then he could move the empty can aside +and gnaw the next one in the pile, and the cycle would begin again. It +kept the rats fed almost as well as an automatic machine might have.</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="p1">T</span>he tunnel was an endless monochromatic world that was both artificial and +natural. Here, there was a neatly squared-off mosaic of ceramic tile; over +there, on a little hillock of earth, squatted a colony of fat mushrooms. +In one place, he had to skirt a pool of water; in another, climb over a +heap of rust and debris that had once been a subway car.</p> + +<p>One man, alone, walking through the dark towards a superhuman monster that +had terrorized Earth for a decade.</p> + +<p>A drug that would knock out the Nipe would have been useful, but that +would have required a greater knowledge of the Nipe's biochemistry than +anyone had. The same applied to anesthetic gases, or electric shock, or +supersonics.</p> + +<p>The only answer was a man called Stanton.</p> + +<p>And the voice near his ear said: "A hundred yards to go, Barbell."</p> + +<p>"I know," he whispered. "He hasn't moved?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p><i>Wouldn't it be funny if he were dead?</i> Stanton thought. <i>If his heart had +stopped, or something. Wouldn't that be a big joke on everybody? +Especially me.</i></p> + +<p>Ahead the tunnel made a curving turn, and there was a large area that had +once been a major junction of two tunnels, one below the other. The Nipe +had taken over a part of that area to build his home-away-from-home.</p> + +<p>Stanton approached the turn and took off the infra-red goggles. Enough +light spilled over from the Nipe's lair to illuminate the tunnel. He put +the goggles on the trackway. He wouldn't need them again.</p> + +<p>He went on around the curve, slowly and quietly. He didn't want to fight +down here in the tracks, and he didn't want to be caught just yet.</p> + +<p>Cautiously, he lifted himself up to the platform, where long-gone +passengers had once waited for long-gone trains. Now that he was out of +the trench that the tracks lay in, he could move more easily. He moved +away from the tracks.</p> + +<p>"Barbell! He's heard you! Watch it!"</p> + +<p>But Stanton had already heard the movement of the Nipe. He jerked off the +communicator and threw it away. He didn't want any encumbrances now.</p> + +<p>And then, as fast as any express train that had ever moved in these +underground ways, the Nipe came around a corner thirty feet away, his four +violet eyes gleaming, his limbs rippling beneath his centipede-like body.</p> + +<p><i>From fifteen feet away, he launched himself through the air, his +outstretched hands ready to kill.</i></p> + +<p>But Stanton's marvelous neuro-muscular system was already in action.</p> + +<p>At this stage of the game, it would be suicide to let the Nipe get close. +He couldn't fend off eight grasping hands with his own two. He leaped to +one side, and the Nipe got his first surprise in ten years when Stanton's +fist slammed against the side of his snouted head, knocking him in the +opposite direction from that in which Stanton had moved.</p> + +<p>The Nipe landed, turned, and charged back toward the man. This time, he +reared up, using his two rear pairs of limbs for locomotion, while the two +forward pair were held out, ready to kill.</p> + +<p>He got surprise number two when Stanton's fist landed on his snout, +rocking his head back. His own hands met nothing but air, and by the time +he had recovered from the blow, Stanton was well back, out of the way.</p> + +<p><i>He's so small!</i> Stanton thought wonderingly. Even when he reared up, the +Nipe's head was only three feet above the concrete floor.</p> + +<p>The Nipe came in again—more cautiously, this time.</p> + +<p>Stanton punched again with a straight right. The Nipe moved his head +aside, and Stanton's knuckles merely grazed the side of his head, below +the lower right eye. One of the Nipe's hands came in in a chopping right +hook that took Stanton just below the ribs. Stanton leaped back with a +gasp of pain.</p> + +<p>The Nipe didn't use fists. He used his open hand, fingers together, like a +judo fighter.</p> + +<p>The Nipe came forward once more, and as Stanton danced back, the Nipe made +a grab for his ankle, almost catching it.</p> + +<p>There were too many hands to watch! Stanton had two advantages: weight and +reach. His arms were almost half again as long as the Nipe's.</p> + +<p>Against that, the Nipe had all those hands; and with his low center of +gravity and four-footed stance, it would be hard to knock him down. If +Stanton lost his footing, the fight would be over fast.</p> + +<p>Stanton lunged suddenly forward and planted a left in the Nipe's right +upper eye, then followed it with a right uppercut to the Nipe's jaw as his +head snapped back. The Nipe's four hands cut inward from the sides like +sword blades, but they found no target.</p> + +<p>Backing away, Stanton suddenly realized that he had another advantage. The +Nipe couldn't throw a straight jab! His shoulder—if that's what they +should be called—were narrow and the upper armbones weren't articulated +properly for such a blow. He could throw a mean hook, but he had to get in +close to deliver it.</p> + +<p>On the other side of the coin was the fact that the Nipe knew plenty about +human anatomy—from the bones out. Stanton's knowledge of Nipe anatomy was +almost totally superficial.</p> + +<p>He wished he knew if and where the Nipe had a solar plexus. He would like +to punch something soft for a change.</p> + +<p>Instead, he tried for another eye. He danced in, jabbed and danced out +again, The Nipe had ducked again, taking it on the side of his head.</p> + +<p>Then the Nipe came in low, at an angle, trying for the groin. For his +troubles, he got a knee in the jaw that staggered him badly. One grasping +hand clutched at Stanton's right thigh and grasped hard. Stanton swung his +fist down like a pendulum and knocked the arm aside.</p> + +<p>But there was a slight limp in his movement as he back-pedaled away from +the Nipe. That full-handed pinch had hurt!</p> + +<p>Stanton was angry now, with the hot, controlled anger of a fighting man. +He stepped in and slammed two fast, hard jabs into the point of the +Nipe's snout, jarring the monster backwards. This time, it was the Nipe +who scuttled backwards.</p> + +<p>Stanton moved in to press his advantage and landed a beaut on the Nipe's +lower left eye. Then he tried a body blow. It wasn't too successful. The +alien had an endoskeleton, but he also had a hide that was like somewhat +leathery chitin.</p> + +<p>He pulled back, out of the way of the Nipe's judo cuts.</p> + +<p>His fists were beginning to hurt, and his leg was paining him badly where +the Nipe had clamped on to it. And his ribs—</p> + +<p>And then he realized that, so far, the Nipe had only landed one blow!</p> + +<p><i>One punch and one pinch,</i> he thought with a touch of awe. <i>The only other +damage he's inflicted has been to my knuckles!</i></p> + +<p>The Nipe charged in again, then he leaped suddenly and clawed for +Stanton's face with his first pair of hands. The second and third pairs +chopped in toward the man's body. The last pair propelled him off the +floor.</p> + +<p>Stanton stepped back and let him have a right just below the jaw, where +his throat would have been if he'd been human.</p> + +<p>The Nipe arced backwards in a half-somersault and landed flat on his back.</p> + +<p>Stanton backed up a little more, waiting, while the Nipe wriggled feebly +for a moment. <i>The Marquis of Queensbury should have lived to see this,</i> +he thought.</p> + +<p>The Nipe rolled over and crouched on all eight limbs. His violet eyes +watched Stanton, but the man could read no expression on that inhuman +face.</p> + +<p>"<i>You did not kill.</i>"</p> + +<p>For a moment, Stanton found it hard to believe that the hissing, guttural +voice had come from the crouching monster.</p> + +<p>"<i>You did not even</i> try <i>to kill.</i>"</p> + +<p>"I have no wish to kill you," Stanton said evenly.</p> + +<p>"<i>I can see that. Do you ... Are you....</i>" He stopped, as if baffled. +"<i>There are not the proper words. Do you follow the Customs?</i>"</p> + +<p>Stanton felt a surge of triumph. This was what George Yoritomo had guessed +might happen!</p> + +<p>"If I must kill you," he said carefully, "I, myself, will do the honors. +You will not go uneaten."</p> + +<p>The Nipe sagged a little, relaxing all over. "<i>I had hoped it was so. It +was the only thinkable thing. I saw you on the television, and it was only +thinkable that you came for me.</i>"</p> + +<p>Stanton blinked, stunned. What was the Nipe thinking? But, of course, he +knew. And he saw that even his brother's return had been a part of the +plan.</p> + +<p>"<i>I knew you were out in the asteroids,</i>" the Nipe went on. "<i>But I had +decided you had come to kill. Since you did not, what are your thoughts, +Stanley Martin?</i>"</p> + +<p>"That we should help each other," Stanton said.</p> + +<p>It was as simple as that.</p> + + +<h2>XVII</h2> +<p><span class="p1">S</span>tanton sat in his hotel room, smoking a cigarette, staring at the wall, +and thinking.</p> + +<p>He was alone again. All the fuss, feathers, and fooferaw were over. +Farnsworth was in another room of the suite, making his plans for a +complete physical examination of the Nipe. Yoritomo was having the time of +his life, holding a conversation with the Nipe, drawing the alien out and +getting him to talk about his own race and their history. And Mannheim was +plotting the next phase of the capture—the cover-up.</p> + +<p>Stanton smiled a little. Colonel Mannheim was a great one for planning, +all right. Every little detail was taken care of. It sometimes made his +plans more complex than necessary, Stanton suspected. Mannheim tended to +try to account for every eventuality, and, after he had done that, he +would set aside reserves here and there, just in case they might be useful +if something unforeseen happened.</p> + +<p>Stanton got up, walked over to the window, and looked down at the streets +of Government City, eight floors below.</p> + +<p>All things considered, the Government had done the right thing. And, in +picking Mannheim, they had picked the right man. What would the average +citizen think if he knew the true story of the Nipe? If he discovered +that, at this very moment, the Nipe was being treated almost as an honored +guest of the Government? If he suspected that the Nipe could have been +killed easily at any time during the past six years?</p> + +<p>Would it be possible to explain that, in the long run, the knowledge +possessed by the Nipe was tremendously more valuable to the Race of Man +that the lives of a few individuals?</p> + +<p>Could those people down there, and the others like them all over the +world, be made to understand that, by his own lights, the Nipe had been +acting in a most civilized and gentlemanly way he knew? Would they see +that, because of the priceless information stored in that alien brain, the +Nipe's life had to be preserved at any cost?</p> + +<p>Dr. Yoritomo assumed that Mannheim would spread a story about the Nipe's +death—perhaps even display a carefully-made "corpse". But Stanton had the +feeling that the colonel had something else up his sleeve.</p> + +<p>The phone rang. Stanton walked over, thumbed the answer stud, and watched +Dr. Farnsworth's face take shape on the screen.</p> + +<p>"Bart, I just saw the tapes of your fight with the Nipe, Incredible! I'm +going to have them run over again, slowed down, so that I can see what +went on, and I'd like to have you tell as best you can, what went on in +your mind at each stage of the fight."</p> + +<p>"You mean right now? I have an appointment—"</p> + +<p>Farnsworth waved a hand. "No, no. Later. Take your time. But I am honestly +amazed that you won so easily. I knew you were good, and I knew you'd win, +but I honestly expected you to be injured."</p> + +<p>Stanton looked down at his bandaged hands, and felt the ache of his broken +rib and the blue bruise on his thigh. In spite of the way it looked, he +had actually been hurt worse than the Nipe had. That boy was <i>tough</i>!</p> + +<p>"The trouble was that he couldn't adapt himself to fighting in a new way," +he told Farnsworth. "He fought me as he would have fought another Nipe, +and that didn't work. I had the reach on him, and I could maneuver +faster."</p> + +<p>"It looked to me as though you were fighting him as you would fight +another human being," Farnsworth said.</p> + +<p>Stanton grinned. "I was, in a modified way. But <i>I</i> won—the Nipe didn't."</p> + +<p>Farnsworth grinned back. "I see. Well, I'll let you know when I'm ready +for your impressions. Probably tomorrow some time."</p> + +<p>"Fine."</p> + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> + +<p><span class="p1">H</span>e walked back over to the window, but this time he looked at the horizon, +not at the street.</p> + +<p>Farnsworth had called him "Bart". It's funny, Stanton thought, how habit +can get the best of a man. Farnsworth had known the truth all along, and +now he knew that his patient—<i>former</i> patient—was aware of the truth. +And still, he had called him "Bart".</p> + +<p><i>And I still think of myself as Bart,</i> he thought. <i>I probably always +will.</i></p> + +<p>And why not? Martin Stanton no longer existed—in fact he had never had +much of a real existence. He was only a bad dream; only "Bart" was real.</p> + +<p>Take two people, genetically identical. Damage one of them so badly that +he is helpless and useless—and always only a step away from death. It is +inevitable that the weaker will identify himself with the stronger.</p> + +<p>The vague telepathic bond that always links identical twins (they "think +alike", they say) becomes unbalanced under such conditions. Normally, +there is a give-and-take, and each preserves the sense of his own +identity, since the two different sets of sense receptors give different +viewpoints. But if one of the twins is damaged badly enough something must +happen to the telepathic link. Usually, it is broken.</p> + +<p>But the link between Mart and Bart Stanton had not been broken. It had +become a one-way channel. Martin, in order to escape the prison of his own +body, had become a receptor for Bart's thoughts. He felt as Bart felt—the +thrill of running after a baseball, the pride of doing something clever +with his hands.</p> + +<p>In effect, Martin ceased to think. The thoughts in his mind were Bart's. +The feeling of identity was almost complete.</p> + +<p>To an outside observer, it appeared that Martin had become a cataleptic +schizophrenic, completely cut off from reality. The "Bart" part of him did +not want to be disturbed by the sensory impressions that "Mart's" body +provided. Like the schizophrenic, Martin was living in a little world that +was cut off from the actual physical world around his body.</p> + +<p>The difference between Martin's condition and that of the ordinary +schizophrenic was that <i>his</i> little world actually existed. It was an +almost exact counterpart of the world that existed in the perfectly sane, +rational mind of his brother, Bart. It grew and developed as Bart did, fed +by the telepathic flow from the stronger mind to the weaker.</p> + +<p>There were two Barts, and no Mart at all.</p> + +<p>And then the Neurophysical Institute had come into the picture. A new +process had been developed, by which a human being could be +reconstructed—made, literally, into a superman. The drawback was that a +normal human body resisted the process—to the death, if necessary, just +as a normal human body will resist a skin graft from an alien donor.</p> + +<p>But the radiation-damaged body of Martin Stanton had no resistance of that +kind. With him—perhaps—the process might work.</p> + +<p>So Bartholomew Stanton, Martin's legal guardian after the death of their +mother, had given permission for the series of operations that would +rebuild his brother.</p> + +<p>The telepathic link, of course, had to be shut off—for a time, at least. +Part of that could be done in the treatment of Martin, but Bart, too, had +to do his part. By submitting to hypnosis, he had allowed himself to be +convinced that his name was Stanley Martin. He had taken a job on Luna, +and then had gone to the asteriods. The simple change of name and +environment had been just enough to snap the link during a time when +Martin's brain had been inactivated by therapy and anesthetics.</p> + +<p>Only the sense of identity remained. The patient was still Bart.</p> + +<p>Mannheim had used them both, naturally. Colonel Mannheim had the ability +to use anyone at hand, including himself, to get a job done.</p> + +<p>Stanton looked at his watch. It was almost time.</p> + +<p>Mannheim had sent for "Stanley Martin" when the time had come for him to +return in order to give the Nipe data that he would be sure to +misinterpret. A special code phrase in the message had released "Stanley +Martin" from the posthypnotic suggestion that had held him for so long. He +knew that he was Bartholomew Stanton again.</p> + +<p><i>And so do I,</i> thought the man by the window. <i>We have a lot to straighten +out, we two.</i></p> + +<p>There was a knock at the door.</p> + +<p>Stanton walked over and opened it, trying to think.</p> + +<p>It was like looking into a mirror.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Bart," he said.</p> + +<p>"Hello, Bart," said the other.</p> + +<p>In that instant, the complete telepathic linkage was restored, and they +both knew what only one of them had known before—that, for a time, the +flow had been one-way again—that "Stanley Martin" had experienced the +entire battle with the Nipe. His release from the posthypnotic suggestion +had made it possible.</p> + +<p><i>E duobus unum.</i></p> + +<p>There was unity without loss of identity.</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Anything You Can Do, by Gordon Randall Garrett + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANYTHING YOU CAN DO *** + +***** This file should be named 30742-h.htm or 30742-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/7/4/30742/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_001.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0eb2769 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_001.jpg diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_002.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b55d98c --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_002.jpg diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_003.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e3269a6 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_003.jpg diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_004_01.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_004_01.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..29f04b0 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_004_01.jpg diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_004_02.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_004_02.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..20def16 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_004_02.jpg diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_005.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe99540 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_005.jpg diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_006.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c474e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_006.jpg diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_007.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad573a8 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_007.jpg diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_008.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..affe5e4 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_008.jpg diff --git a/30742-h/images/image_009.jpg b/30742-h/images/image_009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f1603da --- /dev/null +++ b/30742-h/images/image_009.jpg diff --git a/30742.txt b/30742.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..59e331f --- /dev/null +++ b/30742.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3860 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Anything You Can Do, by Gordon Randall Garrett + +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: Anything You Can Do + +Author: Gordon Randall Garrett + +Illustrator: Leone + +Release Date: December 23, 2009 [EBook #30742] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANYTHING YOU CAN DO *** + + + + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + Transcriber's Note: + + This etext was produced from Analog Science Fact & Fiction May and June + 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. + copyright on this publication was renewed. + + This is the illustrated, shorter version of the EBook #24436 + + + ANYTHING YOU CAN DO! + + + First of two parts. The Alien was _really_ alien--and Earth + was faced with a strange problem indeed. They _had_ to have + a superman. And there weren't any. So.... + + + by Darrell T. Langart + + + ILLUSTRATED BY LEONE + + * * * * * + + + + +I + + +Like some great silver-pink fish, the ship sang on through the eternal +night. There was no impression of swimming; the fish shape had neither +fins nor a tail. It was as though it were hovering in wait for a member of +some smaller species to swoop suddenly down from nowhere, so that it, in +turn, could pounce and kill. + +But still it moved. + +Only a being who was thoroughly familiar with the type could have told +that this fish was dying. + +[Illustration] + +In shape, the ship was rather like a narrow flounder--long, tapered, and +oval in cross-section--but it showed none of the exterior markings one +might expect of either a living thing or of a spaceship. With one +exception, the smooth, silver-pink exterior was featureless. + +That one exception was a long, purplish-black, roughened discoloration +that ran along one side for almost half of the ship's seventeen meters of +length. It was the only external sign that the ship was dying. + +Inside the ship, the Nipe neither knew nor cared about the discoloration. +Had he thought about it, he would have deduced the presence of the burn, +but it was the least of his worries. The internal damage that had been +done to the ship was by far the more serious. It could, quite possibly, +kill him. + +The Nipe, of course, had no intention of dying. Not out here. Not so far, +so very far, from his own people. Not out here, where his death would be +so very improper. + +He looked at the ball of the yellow-white sun ahead and wondered that such +a relatively stable, inactive star could have produced such a tremendously +energetic plasmoid that it could still do the damage it had done so far +out. It had been a freak, of course. Such suns as this did not normally +produce such energetic swirls of magnetic force. + +But the thing had been there, nonetheless, and the ship had hit it at high +velocity. Fortunately, the ship had only touched the edge of the swirling +cloud, otherwise the entire ship would have vanished in a puff of +incandescence. But it had done enough. The power plants that drove the +ship at ultralight velocities through the depths of interstellar space had +been so badly damaged that they could only be used in short bursts, and +each burst brought them nearer to the fusion point. Most of the +instruments were powerless; the Nipe was not even sure he could land the +vessel. Any attempt to use the communicator to call home would have blown +the ship to atoms. + +The Nipe did not want to die, but, if die he must, he did not want to die +foolishly. + +It had taken a long time to drift in from the outer reaches of this sun's +planetary system, but using the power plants any more than absolutely +necessary would have been fool-hardy. + +The Nipe missed the companionship his brother had given him for so long; +his help would be invaluable now. But there had been no choice. There had +not been enough supplies for two to survive the long fall inward toward +the distant sun. The Nipe, having discovered the fact first, had, out of +his mercy and compassion, killed his brother while the other was not +looking. Then, having eaten his brother with all due ceremony, he had +settled down to the long, lonely wait. + +Beings of another race might have cursed the accident that had disabled +the ship, or regretted the necessity that one of them should die, but the +Nipe did neither, for, to him, the first notion would have been foolish, +and the second incomprehensible. + +But now, as the ship fell ever closer toward the yellow-white sun, he +began to worry about his own fate. For a while, it had seemed almost +certain that he would survive long enough to build a communicator--for +the instruments had already told him and his brother that the system ahead +was inhabited by creatures of reasoning power, if not true intelligence, +and it would almost certainly be possible to get the equipment he needed +for them. Now, though, it looked as if the ship would not survive a +landing. He had had to steer it away from a great gas giant, which had +seriously endangered the power plants. + +He did not want to die in space--wasted, forever undevoured. At least, he +must die on a planet, where there might be creatures with the compassion +and wisdom to give his body the proper ingestion. The thought of feeding +inferior creatures was repugnant, but it was better than rotting to feed +monocells or ectogenes, and far superior to wasting away in space. + +Even thoughts such as these did not occupy his mind often or for very +long. Far, far better than any of them was the desire--and planning for +survival. + + * * * * * + +The outer orbits of the gas giants had been passed at last, and the Nipe +fell on through the asteroid belt without approaching any of the larger +pieces of rock-and-metal. That he and his brother had originally elected +to come into this system along its orbital plane had been a mixed +blessing; to have come in at a different angle would have avoided all the +debris--from planetary size on down--that is thickest in a star's +equatorial plane, but it would also have meant a greater chance of +missing a suitable planet unless too much reliance were placed on the +already weakened power generators. As it was, the Nipe had been able to +use the gravitational field of the gas giant to swing his ship toward the +precise spot where the third planet would be when the ship arrived in the +third orbit. Moreover, the third planet would be retreating from the +Nipe's line of flight, which would make the velocity difference that much +the less. + +For a while, the Nipe had toyed with the idea of using the mining bases +that the local life form had set up in the asteroid belt as bases for his +own operations, but he had decided against it. Movement would be much +freer and much more productive on a planet than it would be in the Belt. + +He would have preferred using the fourth planet for his base. Although +much smaller, it had the same reddish, arid look as his own home planet, +while the third world was three-quarters drowned in water. But there were +two factors that weighed so heavily against that choice that they rendered +it impossible. In the first place, by far the greater proportion of the +local inhabitants' commerce was between the asteroids and the third +planet. Second, and much more important, the fourth world was at such a +point in her orbit that the energy required to land would destroy the ship +beyond any doubt. + +It would have to be the third world. + +As the ship fell inward, the Nipe watched his pitifully inadequate +instruments, doing his best to keep tabs on every one of the +feebly-powered ships that the local life form used to move through space. +He did not want to be spotted now, and even though the odds were against +these beings having any instrument highly developed enough to spot his +craft, there was always the possibility that he might be observed +optically. + +So he squatted there in the ship, a centipede-like thing about five feet +in length and a little less than eighteen inches in diameter, with eight +articulated limbs spaced in pairs along his body, any one of which could +be used as hand or foot. His head, which was long and snouted, displayed +two pairs of violet eyes which kept a constant watch on the indicators and +screens of the few instruments that were still functioning aboard the +ship. + +And he waited as the ship fell towards its rendezvous with the third +planet. + + +II + +Wang Kulichenko pulled the collar of his uniform coat up closer around his +ears and pulled the helmet and face-mask down a bit. It was only early +October, but here in the tundra country the wind had a tendency to be +chill and biting in the morning, even at this time of year. Within a week +or so, he'd have to start using the power pack on his horse to +electrically warm his protective clothing and the horse's wrappings, but +there was no necessity of that yet. He smiled a little as he always did +when he thought of his grandfather's remarks about such "new-fangled +nonsense". + +"Your ancestors, son of my son," he would say, "conquered the tundra and +lived upon it for thousands of years without the need of such womanish +things. Are there no men anymore? Are there none who can face nature alone +and unafraid without the aid of artifices that bring softness?" + +But Wang Kulichenko noticed--though, out of politeness, he never pointed +it out--that the old man never failed to take advantage of the electric +warmth of the house when the short days came and the snow blew across the +country like fine white sand. And he never complained about the lights or +the television or the hot water, except to grumble occasionally that they +were a little old and out of date and that the mail-order catalog showed +that better models were available in Vladivostok. + +And Wang would remind the old man, very gently, that a paper-forest ranger +made only so much money, and that there would have to be more saving +before such things could be bought. He did not--_ever_--remind the old man +that he, Wang, was stretching a point to keep his grandfather on the +payroll as an assistant. + +Wang Kulichenko patted his horse's rump and urged her softly to step up +her pace just a bit. He had a certain amount of territory to cover, and, +although he wanted to be careful in his checking, he also wanted to get +home early. + +Around him, the neatly-planted forest of paper-trees spread knotty, alien +branches, trying to catch the rays of the winter-waning sun. Whenever Wang +thought of his grandfather's remarks about his ancestors, he always +wondered, as a corollary, what those same ancestors would have thought +about a forest growing up here, where no forest like this one had ever +grown before. + +They were called paper-trees because the bulk of their pulp was used to +make paper (they were of no use whatever as lumber), but they weren't +trees, really, and the organic chemicals that were leached from them +during the pulping process were of far more value than the paper pulp. + +They were mutations of a smaller plant that had been found in the +temperate regions of Mars and purposely changed genetically to grow on the +Siberian tundra, where the conditions were similar to, but superior to, +their natural habitat. They looked as though someone had managed to cross +breed the Joshua tree with the cypress and then persuaded the result to +grow grass instead of leaves. + +In the distance, Wang heard the whining of the wind and he automatically +pulled his coat a little tighter, even though he noticed no increase in +the wind velocity around him. + +Then, as the whine became louder, he realized that it was not the wind. + +He turned his head toward the noise and looked up. For a long minute, he +watched the sky as the sound gained volume, but he could see nothing at +first. Then he caught a glimpse of motion. A dot that was hard to +distinguish against the cloud-mottled gray sky. + +What was it? An air transport in trouble? There were two trans-polar +routes that passed within a few hundred miles of here, but no air +transport he had ever seen had made a noise like that. Normally, they were +so high as to be both invisible and inaudible. Must be trouble of some +sort. + +He reached down to the saddle pack without taking his eyes off the moving +speck and took out the radiophone. He held it to his ear and thumbed the +call button insistently. + +_Grandfather_, he thought with growing irritation as the seconds passed, +_wake up! Come on, old dozer, rouse yourself from your dreams!_ + +At the same time, he checked his wrist compass and estimated the direction +of flight of the dot and its direction from him. He'd at least be able to +give the airline authorities some information if the ship fell. He wished +there were some way to triangulate its height and so on, but he had no +need for that kind of thing, so he hadn't the equipment. + +"Yes? Yes?" came a testy, dry voice through the earphone. + +Quickly, Wang gave his grandfather all the information he had on the +flying thing. By now, the whine had become a shrill roar, and the thing in +the air had become a silver-pink fish shape. + +"I think it's coming down very close to here," Wang concluded. "You call +the authorities and let them know that one of the aircraft is in trouble. +I'll see if I can be of any help here. I'll call you back later." + +"As you say," the old man said hurriedly. He cut off. + + * * * * * + +Wang was beginning to realize that the thing was a spaceship, not an +airship. By this time, he could see the thing more clearly. He had never +actually seen a spacecraft, but he'd seen enough of them on television to +know what they looked like. This one didn't look like a standard type at +all, and it didn't behave like one, but it looked even less like an +airship, and he knew enough to know that he didn't necessarily know every +type of spaceship ever built. + +In shape, it resembled the old rocket-propelled jobs that had been first +used for space exploration a century before, rather than looking like the +fat ovoids that he was used to. But there were no signs of rocket +exhausts, and yet the ship was very obviously slowing, so it must have an +inertia drive. + +It was coming in much lower now, on a line north of him, headed almost due +east. He urged the mare forward, in order to try to keep up with the +craft, although it was obviously going several hundred miles per +hour--hardly a horse's pace. + +Still, it was slowing rapidly--very rapidly. Maybe-- + +He kept the mare moving. + +The strange ship skimmed along the treetops in the distance and +disappeared from sight. Then there was a thunderous crash, a tearing of +wood and foliage, and a grinding, plowing sound. + +For a few seconds afterward, there was silence. Then there came a soft +rumble, as of water beginning to boil in some huge, but distant, samovar. +It seemed to go on and on and on. + +And there was a bluish, fluctuating glow on the horizon. + +_Radioactivity?_ Wang wondered. Surely not an atomic-powered ship without +safety cutoffs in this day and age. + +He pulled out his radiophone and thumbed the call button again. + +This time, there was no delay. "Yes?" + +"How are the radiation detectors behaving there, Grandfather?" + +"One moment. I shall see." There was a silence. Then: "No unusual +activity, young Wang. Why?" + +Wang told him, then asked: "Did you get hold of the air authorities?" + +"Yes. They have no missing aircraft, but they're checking with the space +fields. The way you describe it, the thing must be a spaceship of some +kind." + +"I think so, too. I wish I had a radiation detector here, though. I'd +like to know whether that thing is hot or not. It's only a couple of miles +or so away. I think I'd better stay away. Meanwhile, you'd better put in a +call to Central Headquarters Fire Control. There's going to be a holocaust +if I'm any judge unless they get here fast with plenty of equipment." + +"I'll see to it," said his grandfather, cutting off. + +The bluish glow in the sky had quite died away by now, and the distant +rumbling was gone, too. And, oddly enough, there was not much smoke in the +distance. There was a small cloud of gray that rose, streamerlike, from +where the glow had been, but even that faded away fairly rapidly in the +chill breeze. Quite obviously, there would be no fire. After several more +minutes of watching, he was sure of it. There couldn't have been much heat +produced in that explosion--if it could really be called an explosion. + +Then he saw something moving in the trees between himself and the spot +where the ship had come down. He couldn't quite see what it was, but it +looked like someone crawling. + +"Halloo, there!" he called out. "Are you hurt?" + +There was no answer. Perhaps whoever it was didn't understand Russian. +Wang's command of English wasn't too good, but he called out in that +language. + +Still there was no answer. Whoever it was had crawled out of sight. + +Then he realized that it couldn't be anyone crawling. No one could even +have run the distance between here and the ship in the time since it had +hit, much less crawled. + +He frowned. A wolf, then? Possibly. They weren't too common, but there +were still plenty of them around. + +He unholstered the heavy pistol at his side. + +And, as he slid the barrel free, he became the first human being ever to +see the Nipe. + +For an instant, as the Nipe came out from behind a tree fifteen feet away, +Wang Kulichenko froze as he saw those four baleful violet eyes glaring at +him from the snouted head. He jerked up the pistol to fire. + +He was much too late. His reflexes were too slow by far. The Nipe launched +itself across the intervening space in a blur of speed that would have +made a leopard seem slow. The alien's hands slapped aside the gun with a +violence that broke the man's wrist, while other hands slammed at his +skull. + +Wang Kulichenko hardly had time to be surprised before he died. + + * * * * * + +The Nipe stood quietly for a moment, looking down at the thing he had +killed. His stomach churned with disgust. He ignored the fading hoofbeats +of the slave-animal from which he had knocked the thing that lay on the +ground with a crushed skull. The slave-animal was unintelligent and +unimportant. + +This was the intelligent one. + +But so slow! So incredibly slow! And so weak and soft! + +It seemed impossible that such poorly-equipped beasts could have survived +long enough on any world to evolve to become the dominant life form. + +Perhaps it was not the dominant form. Perhaps it was merely a higher +slave-animal. He would have to do more investigating. + +He picked up the weapon the thing had drawn and examined it carefully. The +mechanism was unfamiliar, but a glance at the muzzle told him that it was +a projectile weapon of some sort. The twisted grooves in the barrel were +obviously designed to impart a spin to the projectile, to give it +gyroscopic stability while in flight. + +The dead thing must have thought he was a wild animal, the Nipe decided. +Surely no being would carry a weapon for use against members of its own or +another intelligent species. + +He examined the rest of the equipment on the thing. Not much information +there. Too bad the slave-animal was gone; there had apparently been more +equipment strapped to it. + +The next question was, what should he do with the body? + +Devour it properly, as one should with a validly slain foe? + +It didn't seem that he could do anything else, and yet his stomachs wanted +to rebel at the thought. After all, it wasn't as if the thing were really +a proper being. It was astonishing to find another intelligent race; none +had ever been found before. But he was determined to show them that he was +civilized and intelligent, too. + +On the other hand, they were obviously of a lower order than the Nipe, and +that made the question even more puzzling. + +In the end, he decided to leave the thing here, for others of its kind to +find. They would doubtless consume it properly. + +And--he glanced at the sky and listened--they would be here in time. There +were aircraft coming. + +He would have to leave quickly. He had to find one of their production or +supply centers, and he would have to do it alone, with only the equipment +he had on him. The utter destruction of his ship had left him seriously +hampered. + +He began moving, staying in the protection of the trees. His ethical sense +still bothered him. It was not at all civilized to leave a body to the +mercy of lesser animals or monocells like that. What kind of monster would +they think he was? + +Still, there was no help for it. If they caught him while feeding, they +might have thought him a lower animal and shot him. He couldn't put an +onus like that upon them. + +He moved on. + + +III + +Two-fifths of a second. That was all the time Bart Stanton had from the +first moment his supersensitive ears heard the faint whisper of metal +against leather. + +He made good use of it. + +The noise had come from behind and slightly to the left of him, so he drew +his own gun with his left hand and spun to his left as he dropped to a +crouch. He had turned almost completely around, drawn his gun, and fired +three shots before the other man had even leveled his own weapon. + +The bullets from Stanton's gun made three round spots on the man's jacket, +almost touching each other and directly over the heart. The man blinked +stupidly for a moment, looking down at the round spots. + +"My God," he said softly. + +Then the man returned his weapon slowly to his holster. + +[Illustration] + +The big room was noisy. The three shots had merely added to the noise of +the gunfire that rattled intermittently around the two men. And even that +gunfire was only a part of the cacophony. The tortured molecules of the +air in the room were so besieged by the beat of drums, the blare of +trumpets, the crackle of lightning, the rumble of heavy machinery, the +squawks and shrieks of horns and whistles, the rustle of autumn leaves, +the machine-gun snap of popping popcorn, the clink and jingle of falling +coins, and the yelps, bellows, howls, roars, snarls, grunts, bleats, moos, +purrs, cackles, quacks, chirps, buzzes, and hisses of a myriad of animals, +that each molecule would have thought that it was being shoved in a +hundred thousand different directions at once if it had had a mind to +think with. + +The noise wasn't deafening, but it was certainly all-pervasive. + +Bart Stanton had reholstered his own weapon and half opened his lips to +speak when he heard another sound behind him. + +Again he whirled his guns in hand--both of them this time--and his +forefingers only fractions of a millimeter from the point that would fire +the hair triggers. + +But he did not fire. + +The second man had merely shifted the weapons in his holsters and then +dropped his hands away. + +The noise, which had been flooding into the room over the speaker system, +died instantly. + +Stanton shoved his guns back into place and rose from his crouch. "Real +cute," he said, grinning. "I wasn't expecting that one." + +The man he was facing smiled back. "Well, Bart, maybe we've proved our +point. What do you think, Colonel?" The last was addressed to the third +man, who was still standing quietly, looking worried and surprised about +the three spots on his jacket that had come from the special harmless +projectiles in Stanton's gun. + +Colonel Mannheim was four inches shorter than Stanton's five-ten, and was +fifteen years older. But, in spite of the differences, he would have +laughed at anyone who had told him, five minutes before, that he couldn't +outdraw a man who was standing with his back turned. + +His bright blue eyes, set deep beneath craggy brows in a tanned face, +looked speculatively at the younger man. "Incredible," he said gently. +"Absolutely incredible." Then he looked at the other man, a lean civilian +with mild blue eyes a shade lighter than his own. "All right, Dr. +Farnsworth, I'm convinced. You and your staff have quite literally created +a superman. Anyone who can stand in a noise-filled room and hear a man +draw a gun twenty feet behind him is incredible enough. The fact that he +could and did outdraw and outshoot me after I had started ... well, that's +almost beyond comprehension." + +He looked back at Bart Stanton. "What's your opinion, Mr. Stanton? Think +you can handle the Nipe?" + +Stanton paused imperceptibly before answering, while his ultrafast mind +considered the problem and arrived at a decision. Just how much confidence +should he show the colonel? Mannheim was a man with tremendous confidence +in himself, but who was capable of recognizing that there were men who +were his superiors, in one field or another. + +"If I can't dispose of the Nipe," Stanton said, "no one can." + +Colonel Mannheim nodded slowly. "I believe you're right," he said at +last. His voice was firm with inner conviction. He shot a glance at +Farnsworth. "How about the second man?" + +Farnsworth shook his head. "He'll never make it. In another two years, we +can put him into reasonable shape again, but his nervous system just +couldn't stand the gaff." + +"Can we get another man ready in time?" + +"Hardly. We can't just pick a man up off the street and turn him into a +superman. Even if we could find another subject with Bart's genetic +possibilities, it would take more time than we have to spare." + +"This isn't magic, Colonel. You don't change a nobody into a physical and +mental giant by saying _abracadabra_ or by teaching him how to pronounce +_shazam_ properly." + +"I'm aware of that," said Colonel Mannheim without rancor. "Five years of +work on Mr. Stanton must have taught you something, though. I should think +you could repeat the process in less time." + +Farnsworth repeated the headshaking. "Human beings aren't machines, +Colonel. They require time to heal, time to learn, time to integrate +themselves. Remember that, in spite of all our increased knowledge of +anesthesia, antibiotics, viricides, and obstetrics, it still takes nine +months to produce a baby. We're in the same position, only more so." + +"I see," said Mannheim. + +"Besides," Dr. Farnsworth continued, "Stanton's body and nervous system +are now close to the theoretical limit for human tissue. I'm afraid you +don't realize what kind of mental stability and organization are required +to handle the equipment he now has." + +"I'm sure I don't," the colonel agreed. "I doubt if anyone besides Stanton +himself knows." + +Dr. Farnsworth's manner softened a little. "You're probably quite right. +Suffice it to say that Bartholomew Stanton is the only answer we've found +so far, and the only answer visible in the foreseeable future to the +problem posed by the Nipe." + +The colonel's face darkened. "I keep hoping that our policy of handling +the Nipe hasn't been a mistake. If it has, it's going to prove a fatal +one--for the whole race." + +"Let's go into the lounge," Farnsworth said. "Standing around in an empty +chamber like this isn't the most comfortable way to discuss the fate of +mankind." His voice brought hollow echoes from the walls. + +Colonel Mannheim grinned at the touch of lightness the biophysicist had +injected into the conversation. "Very well. I could do with some coffee, +if you have some." + +"All you want," said Dr. Farnsworth, leading the way toward the door of +the chamber and opening it. "Or, if you'd prefer something with a little +more power to it--?" + +"Thanks, no. Coffee will do fine," said Mannheim. "How about you, Mr. +Stanton?" + +Bart Stanton shook his head. "I'd love to have some coffee, but I'll leave +the alcohol alone. I'd just have the luck to be finishing a drink when +our friend, the Nipe, popped in on us. And when I do meet him, I'm going +to need every microsecond of reflex speed I can scrape up." + + * * * * * + +They walked down a soft-floored, warmly-lit corridor to an elevator which +whisked them up to the main level of the Neurophysical Institute Building. + +Another corridor led them to a room that might have been the common room +of one of the more exclusive men's clubs. There were soft chairs and +shelves of books and reading tables and smoking stands, all quietly +luxurious. There was no one in the room when the three men entered. + +"We can have some privacy here," Dr. Farnsworth said. "None of the rest of +the staff will come in until we're through." + +Colonel Mannheim looked at the biophysicist speculatively. "You seem to +think secrecy's important all of a sudden." + +Bart Stanton grinned and kept silent. + +Dr. Farnsworth went over to a table, where an urn of coffee radiated soft +warmth. "Cream and sugar over there on the tray," he said as he began to +fill cups. + +"Frankly," Colonel Mannheim said, "I was going to ask you to find us a +place where we could talk privately. You seem to have anticipated me." + +"I thought you might have something like that in mind," said Dr. +Farnsworth without looking up. + +The cups were filled and the three men sat down in a triangle of chairs +before any of them spoke again. Colonel Mannheim took a sip from his cup +and then looked up. + +"All right, we'll begin this way. Mr. Stanton, granted that you've been +through five years of hell--but how closely have you stayed in touch with +the Nipe situation?" + +"As best I could through news bulletins and information that your office +has sent here." + +"Could you give me an oral summary?" + +Bart Stanton thought for a moment. It was true that he'd been out of touch +with what had been going on outside the walls of the Neurophysical +Institute for the past five years. In spite of the reading he'd done and +the newscasts he'd watched and the TV tapes he'd seen, he still had no +real feeling for the situation. + +There were hazy periods during that five years. He had undergone extensive +glandular and neural operations of great delicacy, many of which had +resulted in what could have been agonizing pain without the use of +suppressors. As a result, he possessed a biological engine that, for sheer +driving power and nicety of control, surpassed any other known to exist or +to have ever existed on Earth--with the possible exception of the Nipe. +But those five years of rebuilding and retraining had left a gap in his +life. + +Several of the steps required to make the conversion from man to superman +had resulted in temporary insanity; the wild, swinging imbalances of +glandular secretions seeking a new balance, the erratic misfirings of +neurons as they attempted to adjust to higher nerve-impulse velocities, +and the sheer fatigue engendered by cells which were acting too rapidly +for a lagging excretory system, all had contributed to periods of greater +or lesser mental abnormality. + +That he was sane now, there was no question. But there were holes in his +memory that still had to be filled. + +He began to talk, rapidly but carefully, telling the colonel all he knew +about the situation up to the present. + + * * * * * + +It wasn't much. It was late October, 2091, and the Nipe, blithely evading +capture for ten long years, was still going about his unknown and possibly +incomprehensible business. + +The Nipe had become a legend. He had replaced Satan, the Bogeyman, +Frankenstein's monster, and Mumbo Jumbo, Lord of the Congo, in the public +mind. He had taken on, in popular thought, the attributes of the djinn, +the vampire, the ghoul, the werewolf, and every other horror and hobgoblin +that the mind of Man had conjured up in the previous half-million years. + +That he had been connected with the mysterious crash in Siberia ten years +before was almost a certainty. How he had managed to get from there to +Leningrad without being seen once was more of a mystery, but certainly +not impossible in the light of what had been done since. + +Eight months later, a non-vision phone call had been received by the +Regent's Board of the Khrushchev Memorial Psychiatric Hospital in +Leningrad. An odd, breathy voice offered (in very bad Russian!) a meeting. +The Nipe had managed to explain, in spite of the language handicap, that +he did not want to be mistaken for a wild animal, as had happened with the +forest ranger. + +The psychiatrists were divided in their opinions. Some thought that the +call had been from a deranged person. When the Nipe actually showed up at +the appointed place, those minds changed rapidly. + +The Nipe's ability to use any human language was limited. He picked up +vocabulary and grammatical rules very rapidly, but he seemed completely +unable to use a language beyond discussion of concrete actions and +objects. His mind was simply too alien to enable him to do more than touch +the edges of human communication. + +In the discussion of mathematics, in particular, the Nipe seemed to be +completely at a loss. He apparently thought of mathematics as a _spoken_ +language instead of a _written_ one, and could not progress beyond simple +diagrams. + +He wasn't captured in any real sense of the word. He refused to allow any +physical tests on his body, and, short of threatening him at gun-point, +there didn't seem to be any practicable way to force him to accede to the +human's wishes. And they couldn't do that. + +The Nipe had to be treated as an emissary from his home world, wherever +that was. He'd killed a man, yes. But that had to be allowed as +justifiable homicide in self-defense, since the forester had drawn a gun +and was ready to fire. Nobody could blame the late Wang Kulichenko for +that, but nobody could blame the Nipe, either. + +For six weeks, the humans and the Nipe had tried to arrive at a meeting of +minds, and just when it would seem within grasp, it would fade away into +mist. It was nearly a month before the Russian psychologists and +psychiatrists realized that the reason the Nipe had come to them was +because he had thought that they were the ruling body of that territory! + +The UN observers stayed out of it at first. Before there was any kind of +talk on a Government level, there must be some kind of understanding on a +personal level. And that, of course, was never achieved. + +Just what had set off the Nipe's anger hasn't been established yet, as far +as Stanton knew. At a meeting one day, he had simply become more and more +incomprehensible, and then, without any warning, he had leaped out, killed +three of the men with his bare hands, and gone out the window. + +And that had been the end of any diplomatic relations between humanity and +the Nipe. + +Since that time, he'd been on a rampage of robbery and murder. He was as +callously indifferent to human life and property as a human being might be +with the life and property of a cockroach. + +There have been human criminals whose actions could be described in the +same way, but the Nipe had a few touches that few human criminals would +have thought of and almost none would have had the capacity to execute. + +If, for instance, the Nipe had time to spare, his victims would be an +annoying problem in identification when found, for there would be nothing +left but well-gnawed bones. And "time to spare," in this case meant twenty +or thirty minutes. The Nipe had, if nothing else, a very efficient +digestive tract. He ate like a shrew. + +And the Nipe never, under any circumstances, used any weapon but the +weapons Nature had given him--hands-or-feet, or claws or teeth. Never did +he use a knife or gun or even a club. + + * * * * * + +Almost as an afterthought, one realized that the loot which the Nipe stole +was seemingly unpredictable. Money, as such, he apparently had no use for. +He had taken gold, silver, and platinum, but one raid for each of these +elements had evidently been enough, except for silver, which had required +three raids over a period of four years. Since then, he hadn't touched +silver again. + +He hadn't tried yet for any of the radioactives except radium. He'd taken +a full ounce of that in five raids, but hadn't attempted to get his hands +on uranium, thorium, plutonium, or any of the other elements normally +associated with atomic energy. Nor had he tried to steal any of the fusion +materials; the heavy isotopes of hydrogen or any of the lithium isotopes. +Beryllium had been taken, but whether there was any significance in the +thefts or not, no one knew. + +[Illustration] + +There was a pattern in the thefts, nonetheless. They had begun small and +increased. Scientific and technical instruments--oscilloscopes, X-ray +generators, radar equipment, maser sets, dynostatic crystals, thermolight +resonators, and so on--were stolen complete or gutted for various parts. +After awhile, he went on to bigger things--whole aircraft, with their +crews, had vanished. + +That he had not committed anywhere near all the crimes that had been +attributed to him was certain; that he _had_ committed a great many of +them was equally certain. + +There was no doubt at all that his loot was being used to make instruments +and devices of unknown kinds. He had used several of them on his raids. +The one that could apparently phase out almost any electromagnetic +frequency up to about a hundred thousand megacycles--including sixty-cycle +power frequencies--was considered to be a particularly cute item. So was +the gadget that reduced the tensile strength of concrete to about that of +a good grade of marshmallow. + +After he had been operating for a few years, there was no installation on +the face of the earth that could be considered Nipe-proof for more than a +few minutes. He struck when and where he wanted and took whatever he +needed. + +It was manifestly impossible to guard against the Nipe, since no one knew +what sort of loot might strike his fancy next, and there was therefore no +way of knowing where or how he would hit next. + +Nor could he ever be found after one of his raids. They were plotted and +followed out with diabolical accuracy and thoroughness. He struck, looted, +and vanished. And wasn't seen again until his next strike. + +Colonel Mannheim, who had carefully puffed a cigar alight and smoked it +thoughtfully during Stanton's recitation, dropped the remains of the cigar +into an ash receptacle. "Accurate but incomplete," he said quietly. "You +must have made some guesses." He looked from Bart Stanton to Dr. +Farnsworth. "I'd like to hear them." + +Farnsworth finished off the last of his coffee. "We've talked about it," +he admitted. "Although I must say the hypothesis Bart has come up with +would never have occurred to me. I'm still not sure I credit it, but" ... +he shrugged ... "I can't say that I disbelieve it, either." + +Mannheim turned his eyes back to Stanton. His silence was a question. + +"Logically, my theory mightn't hold much water," Stanton admitted. "But +the evidence seems to be conclusive enough to me." He got up, went over to +the coffee urn, and refilled his cup. "It seems incredible to me that the +combined intelligence and organizational ability of the UN Government is +incapable of finding anything out about one single alien, no matter how +competent he may be," he said as he returned to his seat. + +"Somehow, somewhere, someone must have gotten a line on the Nipe. He must +have a base for his operations, and someone should have found it by this +time. + +"If there is such a base, then it must be possible to blast him out of it +without resorting to the kind of work it took to produce--me. + +"I may be faster and more sensitive and stronger than the average man, but +that doesn't mean that I have superhuman abilities to the extent that I +can do in two or three years what the combined forces of the Government +couldn't do in ten. Certainly you wouldn't rely too heavily on it. + +"And yet, apparently, you are. + +"To me that can only mean that you've got another ace up your sleeve. You +_know_ we're going to get the Nipe before I die. You either have a sure +way of tracing him or else you already know where he is. + +"Which is it?" + +Colonel Mannheim sighed. "We know where he is. We've known for six years." + + +IV + +INTERLUDE + +The woman's eyes were filled with tears, for which the doctor was +privately thankful. At least the original shock had worn off. + +"And there's nothing we can do? Nothing?" There was a slight catch in her +voice. + +"I'm afraid not. Not yet. There are research teams working on the problem, +and one day ... perhaps...." Then he shook his head. "But not yet." He +paused. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Stanton." + +The woman sat there on the comfortable chair and looked at the +specialist's diploma that hung on the doctor's wall--and yet, she didn't +really see the diploma at all. She was seeing something else--a kind of +dream that had been shattered. + +After a moment, she began to speak, her voice low and gentle, as though +the dream were still going on and she were half afraid she might waken +herself if she spoke too loudly. + +"Jim and I were so glad they were twins. Identical twin boys. He said--I +remember, he said, 'We ought to call 'em Ike and Mike.' And he laughed a +little when he said it, to show he didn't mean it. + +"I remember, I was propped up in the bed, the afternoon they were born, +and Jim had brought me a new bed jacket, and I said I didn't need a new +one because I would be going home the next day, and he said: 'Hell, kid, +you don't think I'd just buy a bed jacket just for hospital use, do you? +This is for breakfasts in bed, too.' + +"And that's when he said he'd seen the boys and said we ought to name them +Ike and Mike." + +The tears were coming down Mrs. Stanton's cheeks heavily now, and grief +made her look older than her twenty-four years, but the doctor said +nothing, letting her spill out her emotions in words. + +"We'd talked about it before, you know--as soon as the obstetrician found +out that I was going to have twins. And Jim ... Jim said that we shouldn't +name them alike unless they were identical twins or mirror twins. If they +were fraternal twins, we'd just name them as if they'd been ordinary +brothers or sisters or whatever. You know?" She looked at the doctor, +pleading for understanding. + +"I know," he said. + +"And Jim was always kidding. If they were girls, he said we ought to call +them Flora and Dora, or Annie and Fanny, or maybe Susie and Floozie. He +was always kidding about it. You know?" + +"I know," said the doctor. + +"And then, when they _were_ identical boys, he was very sensible about it. +'We'll call them Martin and Bartholomew,' he said. 'Then if they want to +call themselves Mart and Bart, they can, but they won't be stuck with +rhyming names if they don't want them.' Jim was very thoughtful that way, +Doctor. Very thoughtful." + +She suddenly seemed to realize that she was crying, and took a +handkerchief out of her sleeve to dab at her eyes and face. + +"I'll have to quit crying," she said, trying to sound brave and strong. +"After all, it could have been worse, couldn't it? I mean, the radiation +could have killed my boys, too. Jim's dead, yes, and I've got to get used +to that. But I still have two boys to take care of, and they'll need me." + +"Yes, Mrs. Stanton, they will," said the doctor. "They'll both need you. +And you'll have to be very gentle and very careful with both of them." + +"How ... how do you mean that?" she asked. + + * * * * * + +The doctor settled back in his chair and chose his words carefully. +"Identical twins tend to identify with each other, Mrs. Stanton. There is +a great deal of empathy between people who are not only of the same age, +but genetically identical. If they were both healthy, there would be very +little trouble in their education at home or at school. Any of the +standard texts on psychodynamics in education will show you the pitfalls +to avoid when dealing with identical siblings. + +"But these boys are no longer identical. One is normal, healthy, and +lively. The other is ... well, as you have seen, he is slow, sluggish, and +badly co-ordinated. That condition may improve with time, but, until we +know more about such damage than we do now, he will be an invalid." + +"That's the trouble with radiation damage, Mrs. Stanton. Even when we can +save the victim's life, we cannot always save his health. + +"You can see, I think, what sort of psychic disturbances this can bring +about in such a pair. The ill boy tends to identify with the well one and, +unfortunately, the reverse is true. If they are not properly handled +during their formative years, Mrs. Stanton, both can be badly damaged +emotionally." + +"I ... I think I understand," the woman said. "But what sort of thing +should I look out for?" + +"I suggest that you get a good man in psychic development," the doctor +said. "I'd hesitate to prescribe. It's out of my field. But, in general, +most of your trouble will be caused by a tendency for the pair to swing +into one of two extremes. + +"Mutual antagonism can arise if one becomes jealous of the other's health, +while the healthy one becomes jealous of the extra consideration shown his +crippled brother. + +"Or, on the other hand, the healthy boy may identify so closely with his +brother that he feels every hurt or slight, real or imagined. He becomes +over-solicitous, over-protective. At the same time, the other brother may +come to depend completely on the healthy twin. + +"In both these situations, there is a positive feedback which constantly +worsens the situation. It requires a great deal of careful observation and +careful application of the proper educational stimuli to keep the +situation from developing toward either extreme. You'll need expert help, +if you want both boys to display the full abilities of which they are +potentially capable." + +"I see. Could you give me the name of a good man, Doctor?" + +The doctor nodded and picked up a book on his desk. "I'll give you several +names. You can pick the one you like. They're all good men. There are many +good women in the field, too, but in this case, I think a man would be +best. Of course, if one of them thinks a woman is indicated, that's up to +him. As I said, that isn't my field." + +He opened the small book and riffled through it to find the names he +wanted. + + +V + +The image of the Nipe on the glowing screen was clear and finely detailed. +It was, Bart thought, as though one were looking through a window into the +Nipe's nest itself. Only the tremendous depth of focus of the lens which +caught the picture gave the illusion a sense of unreality. +Everything--background and foreground alike--was sharply in focus. + +The Nipe moved in slow motion, giving the watchers the eerie feeling that +he was moving through a thicker, heavier medium than air, in a place where +the gravity was much less than that of Earth. + +"Speed the tape up to normal," said Colonel Mannheim to the man who was +operating the machine. "If there's anything Mr. Stanton wants to look at +more closely, we can run it through again." + +As if in obedience to the colonel's command, the Nipe seemed to shake +himself a little and go about his business more briskly, and the air and +gravity seemed to revert to those of Earth. + +"What's he doing?" Stanton asked. The Nipe was doing something with an +odd-looking box that sat on the floor in front of him. + +"He's got a screwdriver that he's modified to give it a head with an +L-shaped cross-section, and he's wiggling it around inside that hole in +the box. But what he's doing is a secret between God and the Nipe at this +point," the colonel said glumly. + +Stanton glanced away from the screen for a moment to look at the other men +who were there. Some of them were watching the screen, but most of them +seemed to be watching Stanton, although they looked away as soon as they +saw his eyes on them. + +_Trying to see what kind of a bloke this touted superman is_, Stanton +thought. _Well, I can't say I blame 'em._ + +He brought his attention back to the screen. + +So this was the Nipe's hideaway. He wondered if it were furnished in the +fashion that a Nipe's living quarters would be furnished on whatever +planet the multilegged horror called home. Probably it had the same +similarity as Robinson Crusoe's island home had to a middle-class +Nineteenth Century English home. + +There was no furniture at all, as such. Low-slung as he was, the Nipe +needed no tables for his work, and sleeping was a form of metabolic rest +that he evidently found unnecessary, although he would sometimes just +remain quiet for periods of time ranging from a few minutes to a couple of +hours. + +"We had a hard time getting the first cameras in there," the colonel was +saying. "That's why we missed some of the early stages of his work. There! +Look at that!" + +"That attachment he's making?" + +"That's right. Now, it looks as though it's a meter of some kind, but we +don't know whether it's a test instrument or an integral part of the +machine he's making. The whole thing might be a test instrument. After +all, he had to start out from the very beginning--making the tools to make +the tools to make the tools, you know." + + * * * * * + +"It's not quite as bad as all that," said one of the other men, who had +been briefly introduced to Stanton as Fred Meyer. "After all, he had our +technology to draw upon. If he'd been wrecked on Earth two or three +centuries ago, he wouldn't have been able to do a thing." + +"Granted," the colonel said agreeably, "but it's quite obvious that there +are parts of our technology that are just as alien to him as parts of his +are to us. Remember how he went to all the trouble of building a pentode +vacuum tube for a job that could have been done by transistors. His +knowledge of solid-state physics seems to be about a century and a half +behind ours." + +"Not completely, Colonel," Meyer said. "That gimmick he built last +year--the one that blinded those people in Bagdad--had five perfect +emeralds in it, connected in series with silver wire." + +"That's true. Our technologies seem to overlap in some areas, but in +others there's total alienness." + +"Which one would you say was ahead of the other?" Stanton asked. + +"Hard to say," said Colonel Mannheim, "but I'd put my money on his +technology as encompassing more than ours--at least insofar as the +physical sciences are concerned." + +"I agree," said Meyer, "he's got things in that little nest of his that--" +He stopped and shook his head slowly, as though he couldn't find words. + +"I'll say this," Bart Stanton said musingly, "our friend, the Nipe, has +plenty of guts. And patience." He smiled a little and then amended his +statement. "From our own point of view, that is." + +Colonel Mannheim's face took on a quizzical expression. "How do you mean? +I was about to agree with you until you tacked that last phrase on. What +does point of view have to do with it?" + +"Everything, I should say," Stanton said. "It all depends on the equipment +an individual has. A man who rushes into a burning building to save a +life, wearing nothing but street clothes, has courage. A man who does the +same thing when he's wearing a nullotherm suit is an unknown quantity. +There is no way of knowing, from that action alone, whether he has courage +or not." + +Meyer looked a little dazed. "Pardon me if I seem thick, Mr. Stanton, +but.... Are you saying that the Nipe's technological equipment is better +than ours?" + +"Not at all. I'm talking about his personal equipment." He turned again to +the colonel. "Colonel Mannheim, do you think it would require any personal +courage on my part to stand up against you in a face-to-face gunfight?" + +The colonel grinned tightly. "I see what you mean. No, it wouldn't." + +"On the other hand, if _you_ were to challenge _me_," Bart Stanton +continued, "would _that_ show courage?" + +"Not really. Foolhardiness, stupidity, or insanity--not courage." + +"Then neither of us can prove we have guts enough to fight the other. Can +we?" + +Colonel Mannheim smiled grimly and said nothing, but Meyer, who evidently +had a great deal of respect for the colonel, said: "Now, wait a second! +That depends on the circumstances! If Colonel Mannheim, say, knew that +forcing you to shoot him would save someone else's life--someone more +important, say, or maybe a _lot_ of people, then--" + +Colonel Mannheim laughed. "Meyer, you've just proved Mr. Stanton's point!" + +Meyer gaped for a half second, then burst into laughter himself. "Pardon +my point of view, Mr. Stanton! I guess I _am_ a little slow!" + +Mannheim said: "Precisely! Whether the Nipe has courage or patience or any +other human feeling depends on his own abilities and on how much +information he has. A man can perform any action without fear if he knows +that it will not hurt him--or if he does _not_ know that it _will_." He +glanced at the screen. The Nipe had settled down into his "sleeping +position"--unmoving, although his baleful violet eyes were still open. +"Cut that off, Meyer," the colonel said. "There's not much to learn from +the rest of that tape." + +"Have you actually managed to build any of the devices he's constructed?" +Stanton asked. + +"Some," said Colonel Mannheim. "We have specialists all over the world +studying the tapes. We have the advantage of being able to watch every +step the Nipe makes, and we know the materials he's using to work with. +But, even so, the scientists are baffled by many of them. Can you imagine +the time James Clerk Maxwell would have had trying to build a modern +television set from tapes like this?" + +[Illustration] + +"I know exactly how he'd feel," Meyer said glumly. + +"You can see, then, why we're depending on you," Mannheim told Stanton. + +Stanton merely nodded. The knowledge that he was actually a focal point in +human history, that the whole future of the human race depended to a +tremendous extent on him, was a realization that weighed heavily, and, at +the same time, was immensely bracing. + +"And now," the colonel said, "I'll turn you over to the psychology +department. They'll be able to give you a great deal more information on +the Nipe than I can." + + +VI + +The Nipe squatted, brooding, in his underground nest, waiting for the +special crystallization process to take place in the sodium-gold alloy +that was forming in the reactor. + +_How long?_ he wondered. He was not thinking of the crystallization +reaction; he knew the timing of that to the fraction of a second. His dark +thoughts were focused inwardly, upon himself. + +How long would it be before he would be able to construct the communicator +that would put him in touch with his own race again? How long before he +could discourse again with reasonable beings? For how much longer would he +be stranded on an insane planet, surrounded by degraded, insane beings? + +The work was going incredibly slowly. He had known at the beginning that +his knowledge of the basic arts required to build a communicator was +incomplete, but he had not realized just how painfully inadequate it was. +Time after time, his instruments had simply refused to function because of +some basic flaw in their manufacture--some flaw that an expert in that +field could have pointed out at once. Time after time, equipment had had +to be rebuilt almost from the beginning. And, time after time, only +cut-and-try methods were available for correcting his errors. + +Not even his prodigious and accurate memory could hold all the information +that was necessary for the work, and there were no reference tapes +available, of course. + +He had long since given up any attempt to understand the functioning of +the mad pseudo-civilization that surrounded him. He was quite certain that +the beings he had seen could not possibly be the real rulers of this +society, but he had, as yet, no inkling as to who the real rulers were. + +As to _where_ they were, that question seemed a little easier to answer. +It was highly probable that they were out in space, on the asteriods that +his instruments had detected as he had dropped in toward this planet so +many years before. He had made an error back then in not landing in the +Belt, but at no time since had he experienced the emotion of regret or +wished he had done differently; both thoughts would have been +incomprehensible to the Nipe. He had made an error; the circumstances had +been checked and noted; he would not make that error again. + +What further action could be taken by a logical mind? + +None. The past was unchangeable. It existed only as a memory in his own +mind, and there was no way to change that indelible record, even had he +wished to do such an insane thing. + +Surely, he thought, the real rulers must know of his existence. He had +tried, by his every action, to show that he was a reasoning, intelligent, +and civilized being. Why had they taken no action? + +His hypotheses, he realized, were weak because of lack of data. He could +only wait for more information. + +That--and continue to work. + + +VII + +INTERLUDE + +Mrs. Frobisher touched the control button that depolarized the window in +the breakfast room, letting the morning sun stream in. Then she said, in a +low voice, "Larry, come here." + +Larry Frobisher looked up from his morning coffee. "What is it, hon?" + +"The Stanton boys. Come look." + +Frobisher sighed. "Who are the Stanton boys, and why should I come look?" +But he got up and came over to the window. + +"See--over there on the walkway toward the play area," she said. + +"I see three girls and a boy pushing a wheeled contraption," Frobisher +said. "Or do you mean that the Stanford boys are dressed up as girls?" + +"_Stanton_," she corrected him. "They just moved into the apartment on the +first floor." + +"Who? The three girls?" + +"No, silly! The two Stanton boys and their mother. One of them is in that +'wheeled contraption'. It's called a therapeutic chair." + +"Oh? So the poor kid's been hurt. What's so interesting about that, aside +from morbid curiosity?" + +The boy pushing the chair went around a bend in the walkway, out of sight, +and Frobisher went back to his coffee while his wife spoke. + +"Their names are Mart and Bart. They're twins." + +"I should think," Frobisher said, applying himself to his breakfast, "that +the mother would get a self-powered chair for the boy instead of making +the other boy push it." + +"The poor boy can't control the chair, dear. Something wrong with his +nervous system. I understand that he was exposed to some kind of radiation +when he was only two years old. That's why the chair has all the +instruments built into it. Even his heartbeat has to be controlled +electronically." + +"Shame." Frobisher speared a bit of sausage. "Kind of rough on both of +'em, I'd guess." + +"How do you mean?" + +"Well, I mean, like.... Well, for instance, why are they going over to the +play area? Play games, right? The one that's well has to push his brother +over there--can't just get out and go; has to take the brother along. Kind +of a burden, see? + +"And then, the kid in the chair has to sit there and watch his brother +play basketball or jai alai, while he can't do anything himself. Like I +say, kind of rough on both of them." + +"Yes, I suppose it must be. More coffee?" + +"Thanks, honey. And another slice of toast, hunh?" + + +VIII + +The two objects floating in space both looked like pitted pieces of rock. +The larger one, roughly pear-shaped and about a quarter of a mile in its +greatest dimension, was actually that--a hunk of rock. The smaller--_much_ +smaller--of the two was a camouflaged spaceboat. The smaller was on a +near-collision course with reference to the larger, although their +relative velocities were not great. + +At precisely the right time, the smaller drifted by the larger, only a few +hundred yards away. The weakness of the gravitational fields generated +between the two caused only a slight change of orbit on the part of both +bodies. Then they began to separate. + +But, during the few seconds of their closest approach, a third body had +detached itself from the camouflaged spaceboat and shot rapidly across the +intervening distance to land on the surface of the floating mountain. + +The third body was a man in a spacesuit. As soon as he landed, he sat +down, stock-still, and checked the instrument case he held in his hands. + +No response. Thus far, then, he had succeeded. + +He had had to pick his time precisely. The people who were already on this +small planetoid could not use their detection equipment while the +planetoid itself was within detection range of Beacon 971, only two +hundred and eighty miles away. Not if they wanted to keep from being +found. Radar pulses emanating from a presumably lifeless planetoid would +be a dead giveaway. + +Other than that, they were mathematically safe--if they depended on the +laws of chance. No ship moving through the Asteroid Belt would dare to +move at any decent velocity without using radar, so the people on this +particular lump of planetary flotsam would be able to spot a ship's +approach easily, long before their own weak detection system would +register on the pick-ups of the approaching ship. + +The power and range needed by a given detector depends on the relative +velocity--the greater that velocity, the more power, the greater range +needed. At one mile per second, a ship needs a range of only thirty miles +to spot an obstacle thirty seconds away; at ten miles per second, it needs +a range of three hundred miles. + +The man who called himself Stanley Martin had carefully plotted the orbit +of this particular planetoid and then let his spaceboat coast in without +using any detection equipment except the visual. It had been necessary, +but very risky. + +Had the people here seen his boat? If so, had they recognized it, in spite +of the heavy camouflage? And, even if they only suspected, what would be +their reaction? + +He waited. + +It takes nerve and patience to wait for thirteen solid hours without +moving more than an occasional flexure of muscles, but he managed that +long before the instrument case waggled a meter needle at him. The one +relieving factor was the low gravity; on an asteroid, the problem of +sleeping on a bed of nails is caused by the likelihood of accidentally +throwing oneself off the bed. The probability of puncture or discomfort +from the points is almost negligible. + +When the needle on the instrument panel flickered, he got to his feet and +began moving. He was almost certain that he had not been detected. + +Walking was out of the question. This was a silicate-alumina rock, not a +nickel-iron one. The group that occupied it had deliberately chosen it +that way, so that there would be no chance of its being picked out for +slicing by one of the mining teams in the Asteroid Belt. Granted, the +chance of any given metallic planetoid's being selected was very small, +they had not even wanted to take that chance. Therefore, without any +magnetic field to hold him down, and only a very tiny gravitic field, the +man had to use different tactics. + +It was more like mountain climbing than anything else, except that there +was no danger of falling. He crawled over the surface in the same way that +an Alpine climber might crawl up the side of a steep slope--seeking +handholds and toeholds and using them to propel himself onward. The only +difference was that he covered distance a great deal more rapidly than a +mountain climber could. + +When he reached the spot he wanted, he carefully concealed himself beneath +a craggy overhang. It took a little searching to find exactly the right +spot, but when he did, he settled himself into place in a small pit and +began more elaborate preparations. + +Self-hypnosis required nearly ten minutes. The first five or six minutes +were taken up in relaxing from his exertion. Gravity notwithstanding, he +had had to push his hundred and eighty pounds of mass over a considerable +distance. When he was completely relaxed and completely hypnotized, he +reached up and cut down the valve that fed oxygen into his suit. + +Then, of his own will, he went cataleptic. + + * * * * * + +A single note, sounded by the instruments in the case by his side, woke +him instantly. He came fully awake, as he had commanded himself to do. + +Immediately, he turned up his oxygen intake, at the same time glancing at +the clock dial in his helmet. He smiled. Nineteen days and seven hours. He +had calculated it almost precisely. He wasn't more than an hour off, which +was pretty good, all things considered. + +He consulted his instruments again. The supply ship was ten minutes away. +The smile stayed on his face as he prepared for further action. + +The first two minutes were conscientiously spent in inhaling oxygen. Even +under the best cataleptic conditions, the body tended to slow down too +much. He had to get himself prepared for violent movement. + +Eight minutes left. He climbed out of the little grotto where he had +concealed himself and moved toward the spot where he knew the air lock to +the caverns underneath the planetoid's surface was hidden. Then again, he +concealed himself and waited, while he continued to breathe deeply of the +highly oxygenated air in his suit. Five minutes before the ship landed, he +swallowed eight ounces of the nutrient solution from the tank in the back +of his helmet. The solution of amino acids, vitamins, and honey sugar also +contained a small amount of stimulant of the dexedrine type and one per +cent ethanol. Then he unholstered his gun. + +It wasn't a big ship. He had known it wouldn't be. It was only a little +larger than the one he had used to come here. It dropped down to the +surface of the small planetoid only ten meters from the hidden trapdoor +that led to the air lock beneath the surface. + +He could suddenly hear voices in the earphones of his helmet. + +_Lasser?_ + +_It's me, Fritz. I got your supplies and good news._ + +The air lock trapdoor opened, and a spacesuited figure came out. _How +about the deal?_ + +_That's the good news,_ said the second suited figure as it came from the +air lock of the grounded spaceboat. _Another five million._ + +The man who was hidden behind the nearby crag of rock listened and watched +for a minute or so more while the two men began unloading cases of +foodstuffs from the spaceboat. Then, satisfied that it was perfectly safe, +he aimed his gun and shot twice in rapid succession. The range was almost +point-blank, and there was, of course, no need to take either gravity or +air resistance into account. + +The pellets of the shotgun-like charge that blasted out from the gun were +small, needle-shaped, and heavy. They were oriented point-forward by the +magnetic field along the barrel of the weapon. Of the hundreds in each +charge fired, only a few penetrated the spacesuits of the targets, but +those few were enough. The powerful drug in the needle-pointed head of +each went into the bloodstream of the target. + +Each man felt an itching sensation. He had less than two seconds to think +about it before unconsciousness overtook him and he slumped nervelessly. + +The man with the gun ran across the intervening space quickly, his body +only a few degrees from the horizontal, and his toes paddling rapidly to +propel him over the rough rock. + +He braked himself to a halt and slapped air patches over the area where +his charges had struck the men's suits, sealing the tiny air leaks, and, +at the same time, driving more of the tiny needles into their skins. They +would be out for a long time. + +Neither of them had yet fallen to the ground; that would take several +minutes under this low gravity. He left them to drop and headed toward the +open air lock. + +This was what he had been waiting for all those nineteen days in +cataleptic hypnosis. He couldn't have cut his way in from the outside; he +had had to wait until it was opened, and that time would come only when +the supply ship came. + +Once in the air lock, he touched the control stud that would close the +outer door, pump air into the waiting room, and open the inner door. Here +was his greatest point of danger--greater, even, than the danger of coming +to the planetoid, or the danger of waiting nineteen days for the coming of +the supply ship. If the ones who remained within suspected +anything--anything at all!--then his chances of coming out of this alive +were practically nil. + +But there was no reason why they should suspect. They should think that +the man coming in was one of their own. The radio contact between the men +outside had been limited to a few millimicrowatts of power--necessarily, +since radio waves of very small wattage can be decoded at tremendous +distances in open space. The men inside the planetoid certainly should not +have been able to pick up any more than the beginning of the conversation, +before it had been cut off by solid rock. + +It was a high-speed air lock. Unlike the soundless discharge of his +special gun in the outer airlessness, the blast of air that came into the +waiting chamber was like a hurricane in noise and force, as the room +filled in a few seconds. + +He held onto the handholds tightly while the brief but violent winds +buffeted him. He turned as the inner door opened. + +His eyes took in the picture in a fraction of a second. In an even smaller +fraction, his mind assimilated the picture. + +The woman was dark-haired, dark-eyed, and muscular. Her mouth was wide and +thick-lipped beneath a large nose. + +The man was leaner and lighter, bony-faced and beady-eyed. + +The woman said: "Fritz, what--" + +And then he shot them both with gun number two. + +No needle charges this time; such shots would have blown them both in two, +unprotected as they were by spacesuits. The small handgun merely jangled +their nerves with a high-powered blast of accurately beamed supersonics. +While they were still twitching, he went over and jabbed them with a drug +needle. + +Then he went on into the hideout. + +He had to knock out one more man, whom he found sound asleep in a room off +the short corridor. + +It took a gas bomb to get the two women who were guarding the kid. + +He made sure that the BenChaim boy was all right, then he went to the +little communications room and called for help. + + +IX + +Colonel Walther Mannheim tapped the map that glowed on the wall before +him. "He's right there, where those tunnels come together." + +Bart Stanton looked at the map of Manhattan Island and at the gleaming +colored traceries that threaded their various ways across it. "Just what +was the purpose of those tunnels?" he asked curiously. + +"They were for rail transportation," said the colonel. "The island was hit +by a sun bomb during the Holocaust, and almost completely leveled and +slagged down. When the city was rebuilt, there was naturally no need for +such things, so they were simply sealed off and forgotten." + +"Right under Government City," Stanton said. "Incredible." + +"It used to be one of the largest seaports in the world," Colonel Mannheim +said, "and it probably still would be if the inertia drive hadn't made air +travel cheaper and easier than seagoing." + +"How did he find out about the tunnels?" Stanton asked. + +The colonel pointed at the north end of the island. "After the Holocaust, +the first returnees to the island were wild animals which crossed from the +mainland from the north. The Harlem River isn't very wide at this point. +Also, because of the rocky hills at this end of the island, there were +places which were spared the direct effects of the bomb, and grasses and +trees began growing there. That's why it was decided to leave that section +as a game preserve when the Government built the capital on the southern +part of the island." His finger moved down the map. "The upper three miles +of the island, down to here, where it begins to widen, are all game +preserve. There's a high wall here which separates it from the city, and +the ruins of the bridges which connected with the mainland have been +removed, so the animals can't get back across any more. + +"Two years after he arrived, the Nipe was almost caught. He had managed, +somehow--we're not sure yet exactly how--to get here from Asia. According +to the psychologists who have been studying him, he apparently does not +believe that human beings are any more than trained animals; he was +looking then--as he is apparently still looking--for the 'real' rulers of +Earth. He expected to find them, of course, in Government City. Needless +to say," said the colonel with a touch of irony, "he failed." + +"But he was seen?" asked Stanton. + +"He was seen. And pursued. But he got away easily, heading north. The +island was searched, and the police were ready to start an inch-by-inch +going over of the island two days later. But the Nipe hit and robbed a +chemical supply house in northern Pennsylvania, killing two men, so the +search was called off. + +[Illustration] + +"It wasn't until two years later, after exhaustive analysis of the pattern +of his raids had given us something to work with, that we decided that he +must have found an opening into one of the tunnels up here in the game +preserve." He gestured again at the map. "It wouldn't take him long to see +that no human being had been down there in a long time. It was a perfect +place for his base." + +"How does he move in and out?" Stanton asked. + +"This way." The colonel traced a finger down one of the red lines on the +map, southward, until he came to a spot only a little over two miles from +the southernmost tip of the island. The line turned abruptly toward the +western edge of the island, where it stopped. "This tunnel goes underneath +the Hudson River at this point, and emerges on the other side. It's only +one of several that do so. They're all flooded now; the sun bomb caved +them in when the primary shock wave hit the surface of the river. + +"In spite of his high rate of metabolism, the Nipe can store a tremendous +amount of oxygen in his body, and can stay underwater for as long as half +an hour without breathing apparatus--if he conserves his energy. When he's +wearing his scuba apparatus, he's practically a self-contained submarine. +The pressure doesn't seem to bother him much. He's a tough cookie." + +Stanton nodded silently and slowly. Could he beat the Nipe in hand-to-hand +combat? There would be no way of knowing until the final moment of success +or failure. + +"At that time," the colonel went on, "we hadn't formulated any definite +policy on the Nipe. We didn't know what he was up to; we weren't even sure +he was actually down in those tunnels. We had to find out." + +He walked over to the nearby table and opened a box some twelve inches +long and five-by-five inches in cross section. + +"See this?" he said as he took something out. + +It looked like a large dead rat. + +"Our spy," said Colonel Mannheim. + + * * * * * + +The rat moved along the rusted steel rail that ran the length of the huge +tunnel. To a human being, the tunnel would have seemed to be in utter +darkness, but the little eyes of the rat saw its surroundings as faintly +luminescent, glowing from the infra-red radiations given out by the +internal warmth of cement and steel. The main source came from above, +where the heat of the sun and of the energy sources in the buildings on +the surface seeped through the roof of the tunnel. + +On and on it moved, its little pinkish feet pattering almost silently on +the oxidized metal surface of the rail. Its sensitive ears picked up the +movements and the squeals of other rats, but it paid them no heed. Several +times, it met other rats on the rail, but most of them sensed the +alienness of _this_ rat and scuttled out of its way. + +Once, it met a rat who did not give way. Hungry, perhaps, or perhaps +merely yielding to the paranoid fury that was a normal component of the +rattish mind, it squealed its defiance to the rat that was not a rat. It +advanced, baring its teeth. + +The rat that was not a rat became suddenly motionless, its sharp rodent's +nose pointed directly at the enemy. There came a noise, a tiny popping +hiss, like that of a very small drop of water striking hot metal. From the +left nostril of the not-rat, a tiny glasslike needle snapped out at bullet +speed. It struck the advancing rat in the center of the pink tongue that +was visible in the open mouth. Then the not-rat scuttled backwards faster +than any rat could have moved. + +For a second, the real rat hesitated, and it may be that the realization +penetrated into its dim brain that rats did not fight this way. Then, as +the tiny needle dissolved in its bloodstream, it closed its eyes and +collapsed, rolling limply off the rail. + +The rat might come to before it was found and devoured by its fellows--or +it might not. The not-rat moved on, not caring either way. The human +intelligence that looked out from the eyes of the not-rat was only +concerned with getting to the Nipe. + + * * * * * + +"That's how we found the Nipe," Colonel Mannheim said, "and that's how we +keep tabs on him now. We have over seven hundred of these +remote-controlled robots hidden in strategic spots in those tunnels now, +but it took time to get everything set up this way. Now, we can follow the +Nipe wherever he goes, so long as he stays in the tunnels. If he went out +through an open air exit, we could have him followed by bird-robots but--" +He shrugged wryly. "I'm afraid the underwater problem still has us +stumped. We can't get the carrier wave for the remote-control impulses to +go far underwater." + +"How do you get your carrier wave underground to those tunnels?" Stanton +asked. + +The colonel grinned widely. "One of the boys dreamed up a real cute +gimmick. The rails themselves act as antenna for the broadcaster, and the +rat's tail is the pickup antenna. As long as the rat is crawling right on +the rail, only a microscopic amount of power is needed for control, not +enough for the Nipe to pick up with his instruments. Each rat carries its +own battery for motive power, and there are old copper power cables down +there that we can send direct current through to recharge the batteries. +And, when we need them, the copper cables can be used as antennas. It took +us quite a while to work the system out." + +Stanton rubbed his head thoughtfully. _Damn these gaps in my memory!_ he +thought. It was sometimes embarrassing to ask questions that any schoolboy +should know. + +"Aren't there ways of detecting objects underwater?" he asked after a +moment. + +"Yes," said the colonel, "But they all require beamed energy of some kind +to be reflected from the object, and we don't dare use anything like +that." He sat down on one corner of the table, his bright blue eyes +looking up at Stanton. + +"That's been our problem all along," he said seriously. "Keeping the Nipe +from knowing that he's being watched. In the tunnels, we've used only +equipment that was already there, adding only what we absolutely had +to--small things, a few strands of wire, a tiny relay, things that can be +hidden in out of the way places. After all, he has his own alarm system in +the maze of tunnels, and we've deliberately kept away from his detecting +devices. He knows about the rats and ignores them; they're part of the +environment. But we don't dare use anything that would tip him off to our +knowledge of his whereabouts. One slip like that, and hundreds of human +beings will have died in vain." + +"And if he stays there too long," Stanton said levelly, "millions more may +die." + +The colonel's face was grim as he looked directly into Stanton's eyes. +"That's why you have to know your job down to the most minute detail when +the time comes to act. The whole success of the plan will depend on you +and you alone." + +Stanton's eyes didn't avoid the colonel's. _That's not true,_ he thought. +_I'll only be one man on a team, and you know it, Colonel Mannheim. But +you'd like to shove all the responsibility off onto someone else--someone +stronger. You've finally met someone that you consider superior in that +way, and you want to unload. I wish I felt as confident as you do, but I +don't._ + +Aloud, he said: "Sure. Nothing to it. All I have to do is take into +account everything that's known about the Nipe and make allowances for +everything that's not known." Then he smiled. "Not," he added, "that I can +think of any other way to go about it." + + +X + +St. Louis hadn't been hit during the Holocaust; it still retained much of +the old-fashioned flavor of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, +especially in the residential districts. Bart Stanton liked to walk along +those quiet streets of an evening, just to let the peacefulness seep into +him. And, knowing it was rather childish, he still enjoyed the small +pleasure of playing hookey from the Neurophysics Institute. Technically, +he supposed, he was still a patient there. More, now that he had accepted +Colonel Mannheim's assignment, he was presumably under military +discipline. But he assumed that, if he had asked permission to leave the +Institute's grounds, he would have been given that permission without +question. + +But, like playing hookey, or stealing watermelon, it was more fun if it +was done on the sly. The boy who comes home feeling deliciously wicked +and delightfully sinful after staying away from school all day can have +his whole day ruined by being told that it was a holiday and that the +school had been closed. Bart Stanton didn't want to spoil his own fun by +asking for permission to leave the grounds when it was so easy for a man +with his special abilities to get out without asking. + +Besides, there _was_ a chance--a small one, he thought--that permission +might be refused for one reason or another, and Bart was fully aware that +he would not disobey a direct request--to say nothing of a direct +order--that he stay within the walls of the Institute. He didn't want to +run any risk of losing his freedom, small though it was. After five years +of mental and physical hell, he felt a need to get out into the world of +normal, everyday people. + +His legs moved smoothly, surely, and unhurriedly, carrying him aimlessly +along the resilient walkway, under the warm glow of the street lights. The +people around him walked as casually and with seemingly as little purpose +as he did. There was none of the brisk sense of urgency that he felt +inside the walls of the Institute. + +He knew he could never get away from that sense of urgency completely, +even out here. There were times when it seemed that all he had ever done, +all his life, was to train himself for the single purpose of besting the +Nipe. + +If he wasn't training physically, he was listening to lectures from the +psychologists or from Colonel Mannheim--laying plans and considering +possibilities for the one great goal that seemed to be the focal point of +his whole life. + +What would happen if he failed? He would die, of course, and Mannheim's +Plan Beta would immediately go into effect. The Nipe would be killed +eventually. + +But what if he, Stanton, won? Then what? + +The people around him were not a part of his world, really. Their +thoughts, their motions, their reactions, were slow and clumsy in +comparison with his own. Once the Nipe had been conquered, what purpose +would there be in the life of Bartholomew Stanton? He was surrounded by +people, but he was not one of them. He was immersed in a society that was +not his own because it was not, could not be, geared to his abilities and +potentials. But there was no other society to turn to, either. + +He was not a man "alone, afraid" in a world he had never made; he was a +man who had been made for a world, a society, that did not exist. + +Women? A wife? A family life? + +Where? With whom? + +He pushed the thoughts from his mind, the questions, unanswered and +perhaps unanswerable. In spite of the apparent bleakness of the future, he +had no desire to die, and there was the possibility that too much brooding +of that kind would evoke a subconscious reaction that could slow him down +or cause a wrong decision at a vital moment. A feeling of futility could +operate to bring on his death in spite of his conscious determination to +win the coming battle with the Nipe. + +The Nipe was his first duty. When that job was finished, he would consider +the problem of himself. Just because he could not now see the answer to +that problem did not mean that no answer existed. + + * * * * * + +He suddenly realized that he was hungry. He had been walking through +Memorial Park, past the museum, an old, worn edifice that was still called +the Missouri Pacific Building. There was a small restaurant only a block +away. He reached into his pocket and took out the few coins that were +there. Not much, but enough to buy a sandwich and a glass of milk. Because +of the trust fund that had been set up when he had started the treatment +at the Neurophysics Institute, he was already well off, but he didn't have +much cash. What good was cash in the Institute, where everything was +provided? + +He stopped at a news-vendor, dropped in a coin, and waited for the +reproducing mechanism to turn out a fresh paper. Then he took the folded +sheets and went on to the restaurant. + +He rarely read a news-sheet. Mostly, his information about the world that +existed outside the walls of the Institute came from the televised +newscasts. But, occasionally, he liked to read the small, relatively +unimportant little stories about people who had done small, relatively +unimportant things--stories that didn't appear in the headlines or on the +newscasts. + +The last important news story had come two nights before, when the Nipe +had robbed an optical products company in Miami. The camera had shown the +shop on the screen. Whatever had been used to blow open the door of the +vault had been more effective than necessary. It had taken the whole front +door of the shop and both windows, too. The bent and twisted paraglass +that had lain on the pavement showed how much force had been applied from +within. + +And yet, the results were not that of an explosion. It was more as though +some tremendous force had _pushed_ outward from within. It had not been +the shattering shock of high explosive, but some great thrust that had +unhurriedly, but irresistibly, moved everything out of its way. + +Nothing had been moved very far, as it would have been by a blast. It +appeared that everything had simply fallen aside, as though scattered by a +giant hand. The main braces of the store front were still there, bent +outward a little, but not broken. + +The vault door had lain on the floor of the shop, only a few feet from the +front door. The vault itself had been farther back, and the camera had +showed it, standing wide open, gaping. Inside, there had been pieces of +fragile glass standing on the shelves, unmoved, unharmed. + +The force, whatever it had been, had moved in one direction only, from a +point within the vault, just a few feet from the door, pushing outward to +tear out the heavy door as though it had been made of paraffin or modeling +clay. + +Stanton had recognized the vault construction type: the Voisier +construction, which, by test, could withstand almost everything known, +outside of the actual application of atomic energy itself. In a +widely-publicized demonstration several years before, a Voisier vault had +been cut open by a team of well-trained, well-equipped technicians. It had +taken twenty-one hours for them to breach the wall, and they had no fear +of interruption, or of making a noise, or of setting off the intricate +alarms that were built into the safe itself. Not even a borazon drill +could make much of an impression on a metal which had been formed under +millions of atmospheres of pressure. + +And yet the Nipe had taken that door out in a second, without much effort +at all. + +The crowd that had gathered at the scene of the crime had not been large. +The very thought of the Nipe kept people away from places where he was +known to have been. The specter of the Nipe evoked a fear, a primitive +fear--fear of the dark and fear of the unknown, combined with the rational +fear of a very real, very tangible danger. + +And yet, there _had_ been a crowd of onlookers. In spite of their fear, it +is hard to keep human beings from being curious. It was known that the +Nipe didn't stay around after he had struck; and, besides, the area was +now full of armed men. So the curious came to look and to stare in +revulsion at the neat pile of gnawed and bloody bones that had been the +night watchman, carefully killed and eaten by the Nipe before he had +opened the vault. + +_Thus curiosity does make fools of us all, and the native hue of caution +is crimsoned o'er by the bright red of morbid fascination._ + + * * * * * + +Stanton went through the door of the automat restaurant and walked over to +the vending wall. The dining room was only about three-quarters full of +people; there were plenty of seats available. He fed coins into the proper +slots, took his sandwich and milk over to a seat in one corner and made +himself comfortable. + +He flipped open the newspaper and looked at the front page. + +And, for a moment, his brain seemed to freeze. + +The story itself was straightforward enough: + + BENCHAIM KIDNAPERS + NABBED! + STAN MARTIN DOES IT + AGAIN! + + Ceres, June 3 (Interplanetary News Service)--The three men + and three women who allegedly kidnapped ten-year-old Shmuel + BenChaim were brought to justice today through the + single-handed efforts of Stanley Martin, famed investigator + for Lloyd's of London. The boy, held prisoner for more than + ten months on a small asteroid, was reported in very good + health. + + According to Lt. John Vale, of the Planetoid Police, the + kidnap gang could not have been taken by direct assault on + their hideout because of fear that the boy might be killed. + "The operation required a carefully-planned, one-man + infiltration of their hideout," he said. "Mr. Martin was the + man for the job." + + Labeled "the most outrageous kidnapping in history", the + affair was conceived as a long-term method of gaining + control of Heavy Metals Incorporated, controlled by Moishe + BenChaim, the boy's father. The details.... + + * * * * * + +But Bart Stanton wasn't interested in the details. After only a glance +through the first part of the article, his eyes returned to the picture +alongside the article. The line of print beneath it identified the man in +the picture as Stanley Martin. + +But a voice in Bart Stanton's brain said: _Not Stan Martin! The name is +Mart Stanton!_ + +And Bartholomew felt a roar of confusion in his mind, because he didn't +know who Mart Stanton was, and because the face in the picture was his +own. + + +XI + +He was walking again. + +He didn't quite remember how he had left the automat, and he didn't even +try to remember. + +He was trying to remember other things--farther back--before he had-- + +Before he had what? + +Before the Institute; before the beginning of the operations. + +The memories were there, just beyond the grasp of his conscious mind, +like the memories of a dream after one has awakened. Each time he tried to +reach into the darkness to grasp one of the pieces, it would break up into +smaller bits. The patterns were too fragile to withstand the direct +probing of his conscious mind. Only the resulting fragments held together +long enough to be analyzed. + +And, while part of his mind probed frantically after the elusive particles +of memory, another part of it watched the process with semi-detached +amusement. + +He had always known there were holes in his memory (_Always? Don't be +silly, pal!_), but it was disconcerting to find an area that was as +riddled as a used machine-gun target. The whole fabric had been punched to +bits. + +No man's memory is completely available at any given time. However it is +recorded, however completely every bit of data may be recorded during a +lifetime, much of it is unavailable because it is incompletely +cross-indexed or, in some cases, labeled _Do Not Scan_. Or, +metaphorically, the file drawer may be locked. It may be that, in many +cases, if a given bit of data remains unscanned long enough it fades into +illegibility, never reinforced by the scanning process. Sensory data, +coming in from the outside world as it does, is probably permanent. But +the thought patterns originating within the mind itself, the processes +that correlate and cross-index and speculate on and hypothesize about the +sensory data, those are much more fragile. A man might glance once +through a Latin primer and have every page imprinted indelibly on his +recording mechanism and still be unable to make sense of the _Nauta in +cubito cum puella est_. + +Sometimes a man is aware of the holes in his memory. ("What was the name +of that fellow I met at Eddie's party? Can't remember it for the life of +me.") At other times, a memory may lay dormant and unremembered, leaving +no apparent gap, until a tag of some kind brings it up. ("That girl with +the long hair reminds me of Suzie Blugerhugle. My gosh! I haven't thought +of her for years!") Both factors seemed to be operating in Bart Stanton's +mind at this time. + +Incredibly, he had never, in the past year at least, had occasion to try +to remember much about his past life. He had known who he was without +thinking about it particularly, and the rest of his knowledge--language, +history, politics, geography, and so on--had been readily available for +the most part. Ask any educated man to give the product of the primes 2, +13, and 41, or ask him to give the date of the Norman Conquest, and he can +give the answer without having to think of where he learned it or who +taught it to him or when he got the information. + +But now the picture and the name in the paper had brought forth a reaction +in Stanton's mind, and he was trying desperately to bring the information +out of oblivion. + +Did he have a mother? Surely--but could he remember her? _Yes!_ Certainly. +A pretty, gentle, rather sad woman. He could remember when she had died, +although he couldn't remember ever having attended the funeral. + +What about his father? + +He could find no memory of his father, and, at first, that bothered him. +He could remember his mother--could almost see her moving around in the +apartment where they had lived ... in ... in ... in Denver! Sure! And he +could remember the building itself, and the block, and even Mrs. +Frobisher, who lived upstairs! And the school! A great many memories came +crowding back, but there was no trace of his father. + +And yet.... + +Oh, of _course_! His father had been killed in an accident when Martinbart +were very young. + +_Martinbart!_ + +[Illustration] + +The name flitted through his mind like a scrap of paper in a high wind, +but he reached out and grasped it. + +Martinbart. Martin-Bart. Mart 'n' Bart. Mart _and_ Bart. + +The Stanton Twins. + +It was curious, he thought, that he should have forgotten his brother. And +even more curious that the name in the paper had not brought him instantly +to mind. + +Martin, the cripple. Martin, the boy with the radiation-shattered nervous +system. The boy who had had to stay in a therapy chair all his life +because his efferent nerves could not control his body. The boy who +couldn't speak. Or, rather, _wouldn't_ speak because he was ashamed of the +gibberish that resulted. + +Martin. The nonentity. The nothing. The nobody. + +The one who watched and listened and thought, but could do nothing. + +Bart Stanton stopped suddenly and unfolded the newspaper again under the +glow of the street lamp. His memories certainly didn't gibe with _this_! + +His eyes ran down the column of type. + + "... Mr. Martin has, in the eighteen months since he came to + the Belt, run up an enviable record, both as an insurance + investigator and as a police detective, although his + connection with the Planetoid Police is, necessarily, an + unofficial one. Probably not since Sherlock Holmes has there + been such mutual respect and co-operation between the + official police and a private investigator." + +The was only one explanation, Stanton thought. Martin, too, had been +treated by the Institute. His memory was still blurry and incomplete, but +he did suddenly remember that a decision had been made for Martin to take +the treatment. + +He chuckled a little at the irony of it. They hadn't been able to make a +superman of Martin, but they _had_ been able to make a normal and +extraordinarily capable man of him. Now it was Bart who was the freak, the +odd one. + +_Turn about is fair play,_ he thought. But somehow it didn't seem quite +fair. + +He crumpled the newspaper, dropped it into a nearby waste chute, and +walked on through the night toward the Neurophysical Institute. + + +XII + +INTERLUDE + +"You understand, Mrs. Stanton," said the psychiatrist, "that a great part +of Martin's trouble is mental as much as physical. Because of the nature +of his ailment, he has withdrawn, pulled himself away from communication +with others. If these symptoms had been brought to my attention earlier, +the mental disturbance might have been more easily analyzed and treated." + +"I'm sorry, Doctor," said Mrs. Stanton. Her manner betrayed weariness and +pain. "It was so--so difficult. Martin could never talk very well, you +know, and he just talked less and less as the years went by. It was so +gradual that I never really noticed it." + +_Poor woman_, the doctor thought. _She's not well, herself. She should +have married again, rather than carry the whole burden alone. Her role as +a doting mother hasn't helped either of the boys to overcome the handicaps +that were already present._ + +"I've tried to do my best for Martin," Mrs. Stanton went on unhappily. +"And so has Bart. When they were younger, Bart used to take him out all +the time. They went everywhere together. Of course, I don't expect Bart to +do that so much any more; he has his own life to live. He can't take +Martin out on dates or things like that. But when he's home, Bart helps me +with Martin all the time." + +"I understand," said the doctor. _This is no time to tell her that +Bartholomew's tests indicate that he has subconsciously resented Martin's +presence for a long time. She has enough to worry about._ + +"I don't understand," said Mrs. Stanton, breaking into sudden tears. "I +don't understand why Martin should behave this way! Why should he just sit +there with his eyes closed and ignore us both?" + +The doctor comforted her in a warmly professional manner, then, as her +tears subsided, he said: "We don't understand all of the factors +ourselves, Mrs. Stanton. Martin's reactions are, I admit, unusual. His +behavior doesn't quite follow the pattern that we usually expect from such +cases as this. His physical disability has drastically modified the course +of his mental development, and, at the same time, makes it difficult for +us to make any analysis of is mental state." + +"Is there _any_thing you can do, Doctor?" + +"We don't know yet," he said gently. He considered for a moment, then +said: "Mrs. Stanton, I'd like for you to leave both the boys here for a +few days, so that we can perform further tests. That will help us a great +deal in getting at the root of Martin's trouble." + +She looked at him with a little surprise. "Why, yes, of course. But ... +why should Bart stay?" + +The doctor weighed his words carefully before he spoke. + +"Bart is our control, Mrs. Stanton. Since the boys are genetically +identical, they should have been a great deal alike in personality if it +hadn't been for Martin's accident. In other words, our tests of Bart will +tell us what Martin _should_ be like. That way we can tell just how much +and in what way Martin deviates from what he should ideally be. Do you +understand?" + +"Yes. Yes, I see. All right, Doctor--whatever you say." + +After Mrs. Stanton had left, the psychiatrist sat quietly in his chair and +stared thoughtfully at his desk top for several minutes. Then, making his +decision, he picked up a small book that lay on his desk and looked up a +number in Arlington, Virginia. He punched out the number on his phone, and +when the face appeared on his screen, he said: "Hello, Sidney. Look, I +have a very interesting case out here that I'd like to talk to you about. +Do you happen to have a telepath who's strong enough to take a meshing +with an insane mind? If my suspicions are correct, I'll need a man with an +impregnable sense of identity, because he's going to get into the weirdest +situation I've ever come across." + + +XIII + +_Pok! Pok! Ping!_ + +_Pok! Pok! Ping!_ + +_Pok! Pok! Ping!_ + +The action in the handball court was beautiful to watch. The robot +mechanism behind Bart Stanton would fire out a ball at random intervals +ranging from a tenth to a quarter of a second, bouncing them off the wall +in a random pattern. Stanton would retrieve the ball before it hit the +ground, bounce it off the wall again to strike the target on the moving +robot. Stanton had to work against a machine; no ordinary human being +could have given him any competition. + +_Pok! Pok! Ping!_ + +_Pok! Pok! Ping!_ + +_Pok! Pok! PLUNK._ + +"One miss," Stanton said to himself. But he fielded the next one nicely +and slammed it home. + +_Pok! Pok! Ping!_ + +The physical therapist who was standing by glanced at his watch. It was +almost time. + +_Pok! Pok! Ping!_ + +The machine, having delivered its last ball, shut itself off with a smug +click. Stanton turned away from the handball court and walked toward the +physical therapist, who held out a robe for him. + +"That was good, Bart," he said, "real good." + +"One miss," Stanton said as he shrugged into the robe. + +"Yeah. Your timing was a shade off there, I guess. But you ran a full +minute over your previous record." + +Stanton looked at him. "You re-set the timer again," he said accusingly. +But there was a grin on his face. + +The P.T. man grinned back. "Yup. Come on, step into the mummy case." He +waved toward the narrow niche in the wall of the court, a niche just big +enough to hold a standing man. Stanton stepped in, and various instrument +pick-ups came out of the walls and touched his body. Hidden machines +recorded his heartbeat, blood pressure, brain activity, muscular tension, +and several other factors. + +After a minute, the P.T. man said, "O.K., Bart; let's hit the steam box." + +Stanton stepped out of the niche and accompanied the therapist to another +room, where he took off the robe again and sat down on the small stool +inside an ordinary steam box. The box closed, leaving his head free, and +the box began to fill with steam. + +"Did I ever tell you what I don't like about that machine?" Bart asked as +the therapist draped a heavy towel around his head. + +"Nope. Didn't know you had any gripe. What is it?" + +"You can't gloat after you beat it. You can't walk over and pat it on the +shoulder and say, 'Well, better luck next time, old man.' It isn't a good +loser, and it isn't a bad loser. The damn thing doesn't even know it lost, +and if it did, it wouldn't care." + +"I see what you mean," said the P.T. man, chuckling. "You beat the pants +off it and what d'you get? Not even a case of the sulks out of it." + +"Exactly. And what's worse, I know perfectly good and well that it's only +half trying. The damned thing could beat me easily if you just turned that +knob over a little more." + +"You're not competing against the machine, anyway," the therapist said. +"You're competing against yourself, trying to beat your own record." + +"I know. And what happens when I can't do _that_ any more, either?" +Stanton asked. "I can't just go on getting better and better forever. I've +got limits, you know." + +"Sure," said the therapist easily. "So does a golf player. But every +golfer goes out and practices by himself to try to beat his own record." + +"Bunk! The real fun in _any_ game is beating someone else! The big kick in +golf is in winning over the other guy in a twosome." + +"How about crossword puzzles or solitaire?" + +"Solve a crossword puzzle, and you've beaten the guy who made it up. In +solitaire, you're playing against the laws of chance, and even that can +become pretty boring. What I'd like to do is get out on the golf course +with someone else and do my best and then lose. Honestly." + +"With a handicap...." the therapist began. Then he grinned weakly and +stopped. On the golf course, Stanton was impossibly good. One long drive +to the green, one putt to the cup. An easy thirty-six strokes for eighteen +holes; an occasional hole-in-one sometimes brought him below that, an +occasional worm-cast or stray wind sometimes raised his score. + +"Sure," Stanton said. "A handicap. What kind of handicap do you want on a +handball game with me?" + +The P.T. man could imagine himself trying to get under one of Stanton's +lightning-like returns. The thought of what would happen to his hand if he +were to accidentally catch one made him wince. + +"We wouldn't even be playing the same game," Stanton said. + +The therapist stepped back and looked at Stanton. "You know," he said +puzzledly, "you sound bitter." + +"Sure I'm bitter," Stanton said. "All I get is exercise. All the fun has +gone out of it." He sighed and grinned. There was no point in worrying the +P.T. man. "I'll just have to stick to cards and chess if I want +competition. Speed and strength don't help anything if I'm holding two +pair against three of a kind." + +Before the therapist could say anything, the door opened and a tall, lean +man stepped into the fog-filled room. "You are broiling a lobster?" he +asked the P.T. blandly. + +"Steaming a clam," came the correction. "When he's done, I'll pound him to +chowder." + +"Excellent. I came for a clam-bake," the tall man said. + +"You're early then, George," Stanton said. He didn't feel in the mood for +light humor, and the appearance of Dr. Yoritomo did nothing to improve his +humor. + +George Yoritomo beamed, crinkling up his heavy-lidded eyes. "Ah! A talking +clam! Excellent! How much longer does he have to cook?" + +"Twenty-three minutes, why?" + +"Would you be so good as to return at the end of that time?" + +The therapist opened his mouth, closed it, opened it again, and said: +"Sure, Doc. I can get some other stuff done. I'll see you then. I'll be +back, Bart." He went out through the far door. + + * * * * * + +After the door closed, Dr. Yoritomo pulled up a chair and sat down. "New +developments," he said, "as you may have surmised." + +"I guessed," Stanton said. "What is it?" He flexed his muscles under the +caress of the hot, moist currents in the box. + +He wondered why it was so important that the psychologist interrupt him +while he was relaxing after strenuous exercise. Yoritomo looked excited, +in spite of his calm. And yet Stanton knew that there couldn't be anything +urgent or Yoritomo would have acted differently. + +It was relatively unimportant now, anyway, Stanton thought. Having made +his decision to act on his own had changed his reaction to the decisions +of others. + +Yoritomo leaned forward in his chair, his thin lips in an excited smile, +his black-irised eyes sparkling. "I had to come tell you. The sheer, utter +beauty of it is too much to contain. Three times in a row was almost +absolute, Bart; the probability that our hypothesis is correct was +computed as straight nines to seven decimals. But now! The fourth time! +Straight nines to _twelve_ decimals!" + +Scanton lifted an eyebrow. "Your Oriental calm is deserting you, George. +I'm not reading you." + +Yoritomo's smile became broader. "Ah! Sorry. I refer to the theory we have +been discussing--about the memory of the Nipe. You know?" + +Stanton knew. Dr. Yoritomo was, in effect, one of his training +instructors. _Advanced Alien Psychology,_ Stanton thought; _Seminar +Course. The Mental Whys & Wherefores of the Nipe, or How to Outthink the +Enemy in Twelve Easy Lessons. Instructor: Dr. George Yoritomo._ + +After six years of watching the recorded actions of the Nipe, Yoritomo had +evolved a theory about the kind of mentality that lay behind the four +baleful violet eyes in that alien head. Now he evidently had proof of that +theory. He was smiling and rubbing his long, bony hands together. For +George Yoritomo, that was the equivalent of hysterical excitement. + +"We have been able to predict the behavior of the Nipe!" he said. "For the +fourth time in succession!" + +"Great. But how does that fit in with that rule you once told me about? +You know, the one about experimental animals." + +"Ah, yes. The Harvard Law. 'A genetically standardized strain, under +precisely controlled laboratory conditions, when subjected to carefully +calibrated stimuli, will behave as it damned well pleases.' Yes. Very +true. + +"But an animal could not do otherwise, could it? Only as it pleases. And +it could not please to behave as something it is not, could it?" + +"Draw me a picture," Stanton said. + +"I mean that any organism is limited in its choice of behavior. A hamster, +for instance, cannot choose to behave in the manner of a Rhesus monkey. A +dog cannot choose to react as a mouse would. If I prick a rat with a +needle, it may squeal, or bite, or jump--but it will not bark. Never. Nor +will it leap up to a trapeze, hang by its tail, and chatter curses at me. +Never. + +"By observing an organism's reactions, one can begin to see a pattern. If +you tell me that you put an armful of hay into a certain animal's +enclosure, and that the animal trotted over, ate the hay, and brayed, I +can tell you with reasonable certainty that the animal has long ears. Do +you see?" + +"You haven't been able to pinpoint the Nipe that easily, have you?" +Stanton asked. + +"Ah, no. The more intelligent a creature is, the greater its scope of +action. The Nipe is far from being so simple as a monkey or a hamster. On +the other hand--" He smiled widely, showing bright, white teeth. "--he is +not so bright as a human being." + +"_What!?_ I wouldn't say he was exactly stupid, George. What about all +those prize gadgets of his?" He blinked. "Wipe the sweat off my forehead, +will you? It's running into my eyes." + + * * * * * + +Dr. Yoritomo wiped with the towel as he continued. "Ah, yes. He is quite +capable in that respect, my friend. It is his great memory--at once his +finest asset and his greatest curse." + +He draped the towel around Stanton's head again and stepped back, his face +unsmiling. "Imagine having a near-perfect memory." + +Stanton's jaw muscles tightened. "I think I'd like it." + +Yoritomo shrugged slightly. "Perhaps you would. But it would not be the +asset you think. Look at it soberly, my friend. + +"The most difficult teaching job in the universe is the attempt to teach +an organism something it already knows. True? Yes. If a man already knows +the shape of the Earth, it will do you no good to attempt to teach him. If +he _knows_ that the Earth is flat, your contention that it is round will +make no impression whatever. He _knows_, you see. He _knows_. + +"Now. Imagine a race with a perfect memory--one which does not fade. A +memory in which each bit of data is as bright and fresh as the moment it +was imprinted, and as readily available as the data stored in a robot's +mind. It is, in effect, a robotic memory. + +"If you put false data into the memory bank of a computer--such as telling +it that the square of two is five--you cannot correct the error simply by +telling it that the square of two is four. You must first remove the +erroneous data, not so? + +"Very good. Then let us look at the Nipe race, wherever it was spawned in +this universe. Let us look at their race a long time back--when they first +became _Nipe sapiens_. Back when they first developed a true language. +Each child, as it is born or hatched or budded--whatever it is they do--is +taught as rapidly as possible all the things it must know to survive. And +once it is taught a thing, it _knows_. And if it is taught a falsehood, +then it cannot be taught the truth." + +"Wouldn't cold reality force a change?" Stanton asked. + +"Ah. In some cases, yes. In most, no. Look: Suppose a primordial Nipe runs +across a tiger--or whatever passes for a tiger on their planet. He has +never seen a tiger before, so he does not see that this particular tiger +is old, ill, and weak. He hits it on the head, and it drops dead. He takes +it home for the family to feed on. + +"'How did you kill it, Papa?'" + +"'I walked up to it, bashed it on the noggin, and it died. That is the way +to kill tigers.'" + +Yoritomo smiled. "It is also a good way to kill Nipes. Eh?" He took the +towel and wiped Stanton's brow again. + +[Illustration] + +"The error," he continued, "was made when Papa Nipe generalized from _one_ +tiger to _all_ tigers. If tigers were rare, this bit of lore might be +passed on for many generations. Those who learned that most tigers are +_not_ conquered by walking up to them and hitting them on the noggin +undoubtedly died before they could pass this bit of information on. Then, +one day, a Nipe survived the ordeal. His mind now contained conflicting +information, which must be resolved. He _knows_ that tigers are killed in +this way. He also _knows_ that this one did not die. Plainly, then, _this_ +one is not a tiger. Ha! He has the solution! + +"What does he tell his children? Why, first he tells them how tigers are +killed. Then he warns them that there is an animal that looks _just like_ +a tiger, but is _not_ a tiger. One should not make the mistake of thinking +it _is_ a tiger or one will get badly hurt. Since the only way to tell the +true tiger from the false is to hit it, and since that test may prove +fatal to the Nipe who tries it, it follows that one is better off if one +avoids all animals that look like tigers. You see?" + +"Yeah," said Stanton. "Some snarks are boojums." + +"Exactly! Thank you for that allusion. I must remember to use it in my +report." + +"It seems to me to follow," Stanton said musingly, "that there would be +some things that they'd never learn the truth about, once they'd gotten a +wrong idea in their heads." + +"Ah! Indeed. It is precisely that which led me to formulate my theory in +the first place. How else to explain the fact that the Nipe, for all his +technical knowledge, is still in the ancient ritual-taboo stage of +development?" + +"A savage?" + +Yoritomo smiled. "As to his savagery, I think no one on Earth would +disagree. But they are not the same thing. What I do mean is that the Nipe +is undoubtedly the most superstitious and bigoted being on the face of +this planet." + + +XIV + +There was a knock at the door, and the physical therapist put his head in. +"Sorry to interrupt, but the clam is done. I'll give him a rubdown, Doc, +and you can have him back." + +"Excellent. Would you come up to my office, Bart, as soon as you've had +your mauling?" + +"Sure. I'll be right up." + +Yoritomo left, and the P.T. man opened the steam box. "Feel O.K., Bart?" + +"Yeah, sure," he said abstractedly as he got up on the rubdown table and +lay prone. The therapist saw that Stanton was in no mood for conversation, +so he proceeded with the massage in silence. + +For the first time, Stanton was seeing the Nipe as an individual, as a +person, as a thinking, feeling being. + +_We have a great deal in common, you and I, he thought. Except that you're +a lot worse off than I am._ + + * * * * * + +I'm actually feeling sorry for the poor guy, Stanton thought. Which, I +suppose, is better than feeling sorry for myself. The only difference +between us freaks is that you're a bigger freak than I am. "Molly O'Grady +and the Colonel's lady are sisters under the skin." + +Where'd that come from? Something I learned in school, I guess--like the +snarks and boojums. + + "He would answer to Hi! or to any loud cry, + Such as Fry me! or Fritter my wig!" + +Who was that? The snark? No. + +_Damn_ this memory of mine! + +Or can I even call it mine when I can't even use it? + + "For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to + face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also + I am known." + +Another jack-in-the-box thought popping up from nowhere. + +The only way I'll ever get all this stuff straightened out is to get more +information. And it doesn't look as though anyone is going to give it to +me on a platter. The Institute seems to be awfully chary about giving +information away. George even had to chase away old rub-and-pound, here +(That feels good!) before he would talk about the Nipe. Can't blame 'em +for that, I guess. There'd be hell to pay if the public ever found out +that the Nipe has been kept as a pet for six years. + +How many people has he killed in that time? Twenty? Thirty? How much blood +does Colonel Mannheim have on his hands? + + "Though they know not why, + Or for what they give, + Still, the few must die, + That the many may live." + +I wonder whether I read all that stuff complete or just browsed through a +copy of Bartlett's Quotations. Fragments. + +We've got to get organized here, brother. Colonel Mannheim's little puppet +is going to cut his strings and do a Pinocchio. + + * * * * * + +"O.K., Bart," the P.T. said, giving Stanton a final slap, "you're all set. +See you tomorrow." + +"Right. Gimme my clothes." + +Stanton dressed and took the elevator up to Yoritomo's office. This +section of the building was off-limits to the other patients in the +Institute, but Stanton, the star border, had free rein. + +Not that it mattered, one way or another. There wasn't any way they could +have stopped him. Aside from the fact that he was physically capable of +going through or around almost any guards they wanted to put up, there was +also the little matter of gentle blackmail. When a man is genuinely +indispensable, he can work wonders by threatening to drop the whole +business. + +He felt as though he had been slowly awakening from a long sleep. At +first, he had accepted as natural that he should obey orders and do as he +was told without question, as thought he had been drugged or hypnotized. + +_And it's very likely they subjected me to both at one time or another,_ +he told himself. + +But now his brain was beginning to function again, and the need to know +was strong in his mind. + + * * * * * + +Dr. Yoritomo was sitting in one of the big, soft chairs, puffing at his +pipe, but he leaped to his feet when Stanton came in. + +"Ah! About the ritual-taboo culture of the Nipe! Yes. Sit down. Yes. So. +Do you find it impossible that a high technology could be present in such +a system?" + +"No. I've been thinking about it." + +"Ah, so." He sat down again. "Then _you_ will please tell _me_." + +"Well, let's see. In the first place, let's take religion. In tribal +cultures, religion is--uh--animistic, I think the word is." + +Yoritomo nodded silently. + +"There are spirits everywhere," Scanton went on. "That sort of belief, it +seems to me, would grow up in any race that had imagination, and the Nipes +must have plenty of that, or they wouldn't have the technology they do +have." + +"Very good. _Very_ good. But what evidence have you that this technology +was not given them by some other race?" + +"I hadn't thought of that." Stanton stared into space for a moment, then +nodded his head. "Of course. It would take too long for another race to +teach it to them; it wouldn't be worth the trouble unless this +hypothetical other race killed off all the adult Nipes and started the +little ones off fresh. And if that had happened, their ritual-taboo system +would have disappeared, too." + +"That argument is imperfect," Yoritomo said, "but it will do for the +moment. Go on with the religion." + +"O.K.; religious beliefs are not subject to pragmatic tests. That is, the +spiritual beliefs aren't. Any belief that _could_ be disproven would +eventually die out. But beliefs in ghosts or demons or angels or life +after death aren't disprovable. So, as a race increases its knowledge of +the physical world, its religion tends to become more and more spiritual." + +"Agreed. Yes. But how do you link this with ritual-taboo?" + +"Well, once a belief gains a foothold, it's hard to wipe it out, even +among humans. Among Nipes, it would be well-nigh impossible. Once a code +of ritual and social behavior was set up, it became permanent." + +"For example?" Yoritomo urged. + +"Well, shaking hands, for example. We still do that, even if we don't have +it fixed solidly in our heads that we _must_ do it. I suppose it would +never occur to a Nipe not to perform such a ritual." + +"Just so," Yoritomo agreed vigorously. "Such things, once established, +would tend to remain. But it is a characteristic of a ritual-taboo system +that it resists change. How, then, do you account for their high +technological achievements?" + +"The pragmatic engineering approach, I imagine. If a thing works, it is +usable. If not, it isn't." + +"Very good. Now it is my turn to lecture." He put his pipe in an ash tray +and held up a long, bony finger. "Firstly, we must remember that the Nipe +is equipped with an imagination. Secondly, he has in his memory a +tremendous amount of data, all ready at hand. He is capable of working out +theories in his head, you see. Like the ancient Greeks, he finds no need +to test such theories--_unless_ his thinking indicates that such an +experiment would yield something useful. Unlike the Greeks, he has no +aversion to experiment. But he sees no need for useless experiment, +either. + +"Oh, he would learn, yes. But, once a given theory proved workable, how +resistant he would be to a new theory. How long--how _incredibly_ long--it +would take such a race to achieve the technology the Nipe now has!" + +"Hundreds of thousands of years," said Stanton. + +Yoritomo shook his head briskly. "Puh! Longer! Much longer!" He smiled +with satisfaction. "I estimate that the Nipe race first invented the steam +engine not less than ten million years ago." He kept smiling into the dead +silence that followed. + + * * * * * + +After a long minute, Scanton said: "What about atomic energy?" + +"At least two million years ago. I do not think they have had the +interstellar drive more than fifty thousand years." + +"No wonder our pet Nipe is so patient," Stanton said wonderingly. "I +wonder what their individual life span is." + +"Not long, in comparison," said Yoritomo. "Perhaps no longer than our own, +perhaps five hundred years. Considering their handicaps, they have done +quite well. Quite well, indeed, for a race of illiterate cannibals." + +"How's that again?" Stanton realized that the scientist was quite serious. + +"Hadn't it occurred to you, my friend, that they must be cannibals? And +that they are very nearly illiterate?" + +"No," Stanton admitted, "it hadn't." + +"The Nipe, like Man, is omnivorous. Specialization tends to lead any race +up a blind alley, and dietary restrictions are a particularly pernicious +form of specialization. A lion would starve to death in a wheat field. A +horse would perish in a butcher shop full of steaks. A man will survive as +long as there's something around to eat--even if it's another man. + +"Also, Man, early in his career as top dog on Earth, began using a method +of increasing the viability of the race by removing the unfit. It survives +today in some societies. Before and immediately after the Holocaust, there +were still primitive societies on Earth which made a rather hard ordeal +out of the Rite of Passage--the ceremony that enabled a boy to become a +Man, if he passed the tests. + +"A few millennia ago, a boy was killed outright if failed. And eaten. + +"The Nipe race must, of necessity, have had some similar ritualistic tests +or they would not have become what they are. And we have already agreed +that, once the Nipes adopted something of that kind, it remained with +them, not so? Yes. + +"Also, it is extremely unlikely that the Nipe civilisation--if such it can +be called--has any geriatric problem. No old age pensions, no old folks' +homes, no senility. When a Nipe becomes a burden because of age, he is +ritually murdered and eaten with due solemnity. + +"Ah. You frown, my friend. Have I made them sound heartless, without the +finer feelings that we humans are so proud of? Not so. When Junior Nipe +fails his puberty tests, when Mama and Papa Nipe are sent to their final +reward, I have no doubt that there is sadness in the hearts of their loved +ones as the honored T-bones are passed around the table. + +"My own ancestors, not too far back, performed a ritual suicide by +disemboweling themselves with a sharp knife. Across the abdomen--so!--and +up into the heart--so! It was considered very bad form to die or faint +before the job was done. Nearby, a relative or close friend stood with a +sharp sword, to administer the _coup de grace_ by decapitation. It was all +very sad and very honorable. Their loved ones bore the sorrow with pride." + +His voice, which had been low and tender, suddenly became very brisk. +"Thank goodness it's gone out of fashion!" + +"But how can you be _sure_ they're cannibals?" Stanton asked. "Your +argument sounds logical enough, but logic alone isn't enough." + +"True! True!" Yoritomo jabbed the air twice with his finger. "Evidence +would be most welcome, would it not? Very well, I give you the evidence. +He eats human beings, our Nipe." + +"That doesn't make him a cannibal." + +"Not _strictly_, perhaps. But consider. The Nipe is not a monster. He is +not a criminal. No. He is a gentleman. He behaves as a gentleman. He is +shipwrecked on an alien planet. Around his, he sees evidence that ours is +a technological society. But that is a contradiction! A paradox! + +"For _we_ are not civilized! No! We are not rational! We are not sane! We +do not obey the Laws, we do not perform the Rituals. We are animals. +Apparently intelligent animals, but animals never the less. How can this +be? + +"Ha! Says the Nipe to himself. These animals must be ruled over by Real +People. It is the only explanation. Not so?" + +"Colonel Mannheim mentioned that. Are you implying that the Nipe thinks +that there are other Nipes around, running the world from secret hideouts, +like the Fu Manchu novel?" + +[Illustration] + +"Not quite. The Nipe is not incapable of learning something new; in fact, +he is quite good at it, as witness the fact that he has learned many Earth +languages. He picked up Russian in less then eight months simply by +listening and observing. Like our own race, his undoubtedly evolved many +languages during the beginnings of its progress--when there were many +tribes, separated and out of communication. It would not surprise me to +find that most of those languages have survived and that our distressed +astronaut knows them all. A new language would not distress him. + +"Nor would strangely-shaped intelligent beings distress him. His race +should be aware, by now, that such things exist. But it is very likely +that he equates _true_ intelligence with technology, and I do not think he +has ever met a race higher than the barbarian level before. Such races +were not, of course, human--by his definition. They showed possibilities, +perhaps, but they had not evolved far enough. Considering the time span +involved, it is not at all unlikely that the Nipe thinks of technology as +something that evolves with a race in the same way intelligence does--or +the body itself. + +"So it would not surprise him to find that the Real People of this system +were humanoid in shape. That is something new, and he can absorb it. It +does not contradict anything he _knows_. + +"_But--!_ Any truly intelligent being which did not obey the Law and +follow the Ritual _would_ be a contradiction in terms. For he has no +notion of a Real Person without those characteristics. Without those +characteristics, technology is impossible. Since he sees technology all +around him, it follows that there must be Real People with those +characteristics. Anything else is unthinkable." + +"It seems to me that you're building an awfully involved theory out of +pretty flimsy stuff," Stanton said. + +Yoritomo shook his head. "Not at all. All evidence points to it. Why, do +you suppose, does the Nipe conscientiously devour his victims, often +risking his own safety to do so? Why do you suppose he never uses any +weapons but his own hands to kill with? + +"Why? To tell the Real People that he is a gentleman!" + + * * * * * + +It made perfect sense, Stanton thought. It fitted every known fact, as far +as he knew. Still-- + +"I would think," he said, "that the Nipe would have realized, after ten +years, that there is no such race of Real People. He's had access to all +our records, and such things. Or does he reject them as lies?" + +"Possibly he would, if he could read them. Did I not say he was +illiterate?" + +"You mean he's learned to speak our languages, but not to read them?" + +The scientist smiled broadly. "Your statement is accurate, my friend, but +incomplete. It is my opinion that the Nipe is incapable of reading any +written language whatever. The concept does not exist in his mind, except +vaguely." + +"A technological race without a written language? That's impossible!" + +"Ah, no. Ask yourself: What need has a race with a perfect memory for +written records--at least, in the sense we know them. Certainly not to +remember things. All their history and all their technology exists in the +collective mind of the race--or, at least, most of it. I dare say that the +less important parts of their history has been glossed over and forgotten. +One important event in every ten centuries would still give a historian +ten thousand events to remember--and history is only a late development in +our own society." + +"How about communications?" Stanton said, "What did they use before they +invented radio?" + +"Ah. That is why I hedged when I said he was _almost_ illiterate. There is +a possibility that a written symbology did at one time exist, for just +that purpose. If so, it has probably survived as a ritualistic form--when +an officer is appointed to a post, let's say, he may get a formal paper +that says so. They may use symbols to signify rank and so on. They +certainly must have a symbology for the calibration of scientific +instruments. + +"But none of these requires the complexity of a written language. I dare +say our use of it is quite baffling to him. And if he thinks of symbols as +being unable to convey much information, then he might not be able to +learn to read at all. You see?" + +"Where's your evidence for that?" + +"It is sketchy, I will admit," said Yoritomo. "It is not as solidly based +as our other reconstructions of his background. The pattern of his raids +indicates, however, that his knowledge of the materials he wants and their +locations comes from vocal sources--television advertising, +eaves-dropping, and so on. In other words, he cases the joint by ear. If +he could understand written information, his job would have been much +easier. He could have found the materials more quickly and easily. From +this evidence, we are fairly certain that he can't read any Terrestrial +writing. + +"Add to that the fact that he has never been observed writing down +anything himself, and the suspicion dawns that perhaps he _knows_ that +symbols can only convey a very small amount of specialized information. +Eh? + +"As I said, it is not proof." + +"No. But the whole thing makes for some very interesting speculation, +doesn't it?" + +"Very interesting indeed." Yoritomo folded his hands in his lap, smiled +seraphically, and looked at the ceiling. "In fact, my friend, we are now +so positive of our knowledge of the Nipe's mind that we are prepared to +enter into the next phase of our program. Within a very short while, if we +are correct, we shall, with your help, arrest the most feared +arch-criminal that Earth has ever known." He chuckled, but there was +little mirth in it. "I dare say that the public will be extremely happy to +hear of his death, and I know that Colonel Mannheim and the rest of us +will be glad to know that he will never kill again." + +Stanton saw that the fateful day was looming suddenly large in the +future. "How soon?" + +"Within days." He lowered his eyes from the ceiling and looked into +Stanton's face with a mildly bland expression. + +"By the way," he said, "did you know that your brother is returning to +Earth tomorrow?" + + +XV + +INTERLUDE + +"Is this our young man, Dr. Farnsworth?" asked the man in uniform. + +"Yes, it is. Colonel Mannheim, I'd like you to meet Mr. Bartholomew +Stanton." + +"How are you, Mr. Stanton?" + +"Fine, Colonel. A little nervous." + +The colonel chuckled softly. "I can't say that I blame you. It's not an +easy decision to make." He looked at Dr. Farnsworth. "Has Dr. Yoritomo any +more information for us?" + +Farnsworth shook his head. "No. He admits that his idea is nothing more +than a wild hunch. He seems to think that five years of observing the Nipe +won't be too much time at all. We may have to act before then." + +"I hope not. It would be a terrible waste," said Mannheim. "Mr. Stanton, I +know that Dr. Farnsworth has outlined the entire plan to you, and I'm sure +you're aware that many things can change in five years. We may have to +play by ear long before that. Do you understand what we are doing, and why +it must be done this way?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"You know that you're not to say anything." + +"Yes, sir. Don't worry; I can keep my mouth shut." + +"We're pretty sure of that," the colonel said with a smile. "Your +psychometric tests showed that we were right in picking you. Otherwise, we +couldn't have told you. You understand your part in this, eh?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Any questions?" + +"Yes, sir. What about my brother, Martin? I mean, well, I know what's the +matter with him. Aside from the radiation, I mean. Do you think he'll be +able to handle his part of the job after--after the operations?" + +"If the operations turn out as well as Dr. Farnsworth thinks they will, +yes. And, with the therapy we'll give him afterwards, he'll be in fine +shape." + +"Well." He looked thoughtful. "Five more years. And then I'll have the +twin brother that I never really had at all. Somehow, it doesn't really +register, I guess." + +"Don't worry about it, Mr. Stanton," said Dr. Farnsworth. "We've got a +complex enough job ahead of us without your worrying in the bargain. By +the way, we'll need your signature here." He handed him a pen and spread +the paper on the desk. "In triplicate." + +The young man read quickly through the release form. "All nice and legal, +huh? Well...." He hesitated for a moment, then bent over and wrote: +_Bartholomew Stanton_ in a firm, clear hand. + + +XVI + +The tunnel was long and black and the air was stale and thick with the +stench of rodents. Stanton stood still, trying to probe the luminescent +gloom that the goggles he wore brought to his eyes. The tunnel stretched +out before him--on and on. Around him was the smell of viciousness and +death. Ahead ... + +_It goes on to infinity_, Stanton thought, _ending at last at zero_. + +"Barbell," said a voice near his ear, "Barhop here. Do you read?" It was +the barest whisper, picked up by the antennae in his shoes from the steel +rail that ran along the tunnel. + +"Read you, Barhop." + +"Move out, then. You've got a long stroll to go." + +Stanton started walking, keeping his feet near the rail, in case Barhop +wanted to call again. As he walked, he could feel the slight motion of the +skin-tight, woven elastic suit that he wore rubbing against his skin. + +And he could hear the scratching patter of the rats. + +Mostly, they stayed away from him, but he could see them hiding in corners +and scurrying along the sides of the tunnel. Around him, six rat-like +remote-control robots moved with him, shifting their pattern constantly as +they patrolled his moving figure. + +Far ahead, he knew, other rat robots were stationed, watching and waiting, +ready to deactivate the Nipe's detection devices at just the right moment. +Behind him, another horde moved forward to turn the devices on again. + +It had taken a long time to learn how to shut off those detectors without +giving the alarm to the Nipe's instruments. + +There were nearly a hundred men in on the operation, operating the robot +rats or watching the hidden cameras that spied upon the Nipe. Nearly a +hundred. And all of them were safe. + +They were outside the tunnel. They were with Stanton only in proxy. They +could not die here in this stinking hole, but Stanton could. + +There was no help for it. Stanton had to go in person. A full-sized robot +proxy would be stronger, although not faster unless Stanton controlled it, +than the Nipe. But the Nipe would be able to tell that it was a robot, and +he would simply destroy it with one of his weapons. A remote-controlled +robot would never get close enough to the Nipe to do any good. + +"We do not know," Dr. Yoritomo had said, "whether he would recognize it as +a robot or not, but his instruments would show the metal easily enough, +and his eyes might be able to see that it was not covered with human skin. +The rats are covered with real rat hides; they are small, and he is used +to seeing them around. But a human-sized robot? Ah, no. Never." + +So Stanton had to go in in person, walking southward, along the miles of +blackness that led to the nest of the Nipe. + +Overhead was Government City. + +He had walked those streets only the night before, and he knew that only a +short distance above him was an entirely different world. + +Somewhere up there, his brother was waiting after having run the gamut of +televised interviews, dinner at one of the best restaurants, and a party +afterward. A celebrity. "The greatest detective in the Solar System," +they'd called him. Fine stuff, that. Stanton wondered what the asteroids +were like. Maybe that would be the place to go after this job was done. +Maybe they'd have a place in the asteroids for a hopped-up superman. + +Or maybe there'd only be a place here, beneath the streets of Government +City for a dead superman. + +_Not if I can help it,_ Stanton thought with a grim smile. + + * * * * * + +The walking seemed to take forever, but, somehow, Stanton didn't mind it. +He had a lot to think over. Seeing his brother had been unnerving +yesterday, but today he felt as though everything had been all right all +along. + +His memory still was a long way from being complete, and it probably +always would be. He could still scarcely recall any real memories of a boy +named Martin Stanton, but--and he smiled at the thought--he knew more +about him than his brother did, at that. + +It didn't matter. That Martin Stanton was gone. In effect, he had been +demolished--what little there had been of him--and a new structure had +been built on the old foundation. + +And yet, in another way, the new structure was very like what would have +developed naturally if the accident so early in life had not occurred. + +Stanton skirted a pile of rubble on his right. There had been a station +here, once; the street above had caved in and filled in with brick, +concrete, cobblestones, and steel scrap, and then it had been sealed over +when Government City was built. + +A part of one wall was still unbroken, though. A sign built of tile said +_86th Street_, he knew, although it wasn't visible in the dim glow. He +kept walking, ignoring the rats that scampered over the rubble. + +"Barhop to Barbell," said the soft voice near his ear. "No sign of +activity from the Nipe. So far, you haven't triggered any of his alarms." + +"Barbell to Barhop," Stanton whispered. "What's he doing?" + +"Still sitting motionless. Thinking, I guess. Or sleeping. It's hard to +tell." + +"Let me know if he starts moving around." + +"Will do." + +_Poor, unsuspecting beastie,_ Stanton thought. _Ten years of hard work, +ten years of feeling secure, and within a very short time he's going to +get the shock of his life._ + +Or maybe not. There was no way of knowing what kind of shocks the Nipe had +taken in his life, Stanton thought. Not even of knowing whether the Nipe +was capable of feeling anything like security. + +It was odd, he thought, that he should feel a kinship toward both the Nipe +and his brother in such similar ways. He had never met the Nipe, and his +brother was a dim picture in his old memories, but they were both very +well known to him. Certainly better known to him than he was to them. + +And yet, seeing his brother's face on the TV screen, hearing him talk, +watching the way he moved about, watching the expressions on his face, had +been a tremendously moving thing. Not until that moment had he really +known himself. + +Meeting him face to face would be easier now, but it would still be a +scene highly charged with emotional tension. + +He kicked something that rattled and rolled away from him. He stopped, +freezing in his tracks, trying to pierce the dully glowing gloom. It was a +human skull. + +He relaxed and began walking again. + +[Illustration] + +There were plenty of bones down here. Mannheim had said that the tunnels +had been used as air-raid shelters when the sun bomb had hit the island +during the Holocaust. Thousands had crowded underground after the warning +had come, and they had died when the bright, hot, deadly gas had roared +down through ventilators and open stairwells. + +There were even caches of canned goods down here, some of them still +sealed after all this time. But the rats, wiser than they knew, had chewed +at them, exposing the steel beneath the tin plate. After a while, +oxidation would weaken a can to the point where some lucky rat could bite +through it and find himself a meal. Then he could move the empty can aside +and gnaw the next one in the pile, and the cycle would begin again. It +kept the rats fed almost as well as an automatic machine might have. + + * * * * * + +The tunnel was an endless monochromatic world that was both artificial and +natural. Here, there was a neatly squared-off mosaic of ceramic tile; over +there, on a little hillock of earth, squatted a colony of fat mushrooms. +In one place, he had to skirt a pool of water; in another, climb over a +heap of rust and debris that had once been a subway car. + +One man, alone, walking through the dark towards a superhuman monster that +had terrorized Earth for a decade. + +A drug that would knock out the Nipe would have been useful, but that +would have required a greater knowledge of the Nipe's biochemistry than +anyone had. The same applied to anesthetic gases, or electric shock, or +supersonics. + +The only answer was a man called Stanton. + +And the voice near his ear said: "A hundred yards to go, Barbell." + +"I know," he whispered. "He hasn't moved?" + +"No." + +_Wouldn't it be funny if he were dead?_ Stanton thought. _If his heart had +stopped, or something. Wouldn't that be a big joke on everybody? +Especially me._ + +Ahead the tunnel made a curving turn, and there was a large area that had +once been a major junction of two tunnels, one below the other. The Nipe +had taken over a part of that area to build his home-away-from-home. + +Stanton approached the turn and took off the infra-red goggles. Enough +light spilled over from the Nipe's lair to illuminate the tunnel. He put +the goggles on the trackway. He wouldn't need them again. + +He went on around the curve, slowly and quietly. He didn't want to fight +down here in the tracks, and he didn't want to be caught just yet. + +Cautiously, he lifted himself up to the platform, where long-gone +passengers had once waited for long-gone trains. Now that he was out of +the trench that the tracks lay in, he could move more easily. He moved +away from the tracks. + +"Barbell! He's heard you! Watch it!" + +But Stanton had already heard the movement of the Nipe. He jerked off the +communicator and threw it away. He didn't want any encumbrances now. + +And then, as fast as any express train that had ever moved in these +underground ways, the Nipe came around a corner thirty feet away, his four +violet eyes gleaming, his limbs rippling beneath his centipede-like body. + +_From fifteen feet away, he launched himself through the air, his +outstretched hands ready to kill._ + +But Stanton's marvelous neuro-muscular system was already in action. + +At this stage of the game, it would be suicide to let the Nipe get close. +He couldn't fend off eight grasping hands with his own two. He leaped to +one side, and the Nipe got his first surprise in ten years when Stanton's +fist slammed against the side of his snouted head, knocking him in the +opposite direction from that in which Stanton had moved. + +The Nipe landed, turned, and charged back toward the man. This time, he +reared up, using his two rear pairs of limbs for locomotion, while the two +forward pair were held out, ready to kill. + +He got surprise number two when Stanton's fist landed on his snout, +rocking his head back. His own hands met nothing but air, and by the time +he had recovered from the blow, Stanton was well back, out of the way. + +_He's so small!_ Stanton thought wonderingly. Even when he reared up, the +Nipe's head was only three feet above the concrete floor. + +The Nipe came in again--more cautiously, this time. + +Stanton punched again with a straight right. The Nipe moved his head +aside, and Stanton's knuckles merely grazed the side of his head, below +the lower right eye. One of the Nipe's hands came in in a chopping right +hook that took Stanton just below the ribs. Stanton leaped back with a +gasp of pain. + +The Nipe didn't use fists. He used his open hand, fingers together, like a +judo fighter. + +The Nipe came forward once more, and as Stanton danced back, the Nipe made +a grab for his ankle, almost catching it. + +There were too many hands to watch! Stanton had two advantages: weight and +reach. His arms were almost half again as long as the Nipe's. + +Against that, the Nipe had all those hands; and with his low center of +gravity and four-footed stance, it would be hard to knock him down. If +Stanton lost his footing, the fight would be over fast. + +Stanton lunged suddenly forward and planted a left in the Nipe's right +upper eye, then followed it with a right uppercut to the Nipe's jaw as his +head snapped back. The Nipe's four hands cut inward from the sides like +sword blades, but they found no target. + +Backing away, Stanton suddenly realized that he had another advantage. The +Nipe couldn't throw a straight jab! His shoulder--if that's what they +should be called--were narrow and the upper armbones weren't articulated +properly for such a blow. He could throw a mean hook, but he had to get in +close to deliver it. + +On the other side of the coin was the fact that the Nipe knew plenty about +human anatomy--from the bones out. Stanton's knowledge of Nipe anatomy was +almost totally superficial. + +He wished he knew if and where the Nipe had a solar plexus. He would like +to punch something soft for a change. + +Instead, he tried for another eye. He danced in, jabbed and danced out +again, The Nipe had ducked again, taking it on the side of his head. + +Then the Nipe came in low, at an angle, trying for the groin. For his +troubles, he got a knee in the jaw that staggered him badly. One grasping +hand clutched at Stanton's right thigh and grasped hard. Stanton swung his +fist down like a pendulum and knocked the arm aside. + +But there was a slight limp in his movement as he back-pedaled away from +the Nipe. That full-handed pinch had hurt! + +Stanton was angry now, with the hot, controlled anger of a fighting man. +He stepped in and slammed two fast, hard jabs into the point of the +Nipe's snout, jarring the monster backwards. This time, it was the Nipe +who scuttled backwards. + +Stanton moved in to press his advantage and landed a beaut on the Nipe's +lower left eye. Then he tried a body blow. It wasn't too successful. The +alien had an endoskeleton, but he also had a hide that was like somewhat +leathery chitin. + +He pulled back, out of the way of the Nipe's judo cuts. + +His fists were beginning to hurt, and his leg was paining him badly where +the Nipe had clamped on to it. And his ribs-- + +And then he realized that, so far, the Nipe had only landed one blow! + +_One punch and one pinch,_ he thought with a touch of awe. _The only other +damage he's inflicted has been to my knuckles!_ + +The Nipe charged in again, then he leaped suddenly and clawed for +Stanton's face with his first pair of hands. The second and third pairs +chopped in toward the man's body. The last pair propelled him off the +floor. + +Stanton stepped back and let him have a right just below the jaw, where +his throat would have been if he'd been human. + +The Nipe arced backwards in a half-somersault and landed flat on his back. + +Stanton backed up a little more, waiting, while the Nipe wriggled feebly +for a moment. _The Marquis of Queensbury should have lived to see this,_ +he thought. + +The Nipe rolled over and crouched on all eight limbs. His violet eyes +watched Stanton, but the man could read no expression on that inhuman +face. + +"_You did not kill._" + +For a moment, Stanton found it hard to believe that the hissing, guttural +voice had come from the crouching monster. + +"_You did not even_ try _to kill._" + +"I have no wish to kill you," Stanton said evenly. + +"_I can see that. Do you ... Are you...._" He stopped, as if baffled. +"_There are not the proper words. Do you follow the Customs?_" + +Stanton felt a surge of triumph. This was what George Yoritomo had guessed +might happen! + +"If I must kill you," he said carefully, "I, myself, will do the honors. +You will not go uneaten." + +The Nipe sagged a little, relaxing all over. "_I had hoped it was so. It +was the only thinkable thing. I saw you on the television, and it was only +thinkable that you came for me._" + +Stanton blinked, stunned. What was the Nipe thinking? But, of course, he +knew. And he saw that even his brother's return had been a part of the +plan. + +"_I knew you were out in the asteroids,_" the Nipe went on. "_But I had +decided you had come to kill. Since you did not, what are your thoughts, +Stanley Martin?_" + +"That we should help each other," Stanton said. + +It was as simple as that. + + +XVII + +Stanton sat in his hotel room, smoking a cigarette, staring at the wall, +and thinking. + +He was alone again. All the fuss, feathers, and fooferaw were over. +Farnsworth was in another room of the suite, making his plans for a +complete physical examination of the Nipe. Yoritomo was having the time of +his life, holding a conversation with the Nipe, drawing the alien out and +getting him to talk about his own race and their history. And Mannheim was +plotting the next phase of the capture--the cover-up. + +Stanton smiled a little. Colonel Mannheim was a great one for planning, +all right. Every little detail was taken care of. It sometimes made his +plans more complex than necessary, Stanton suspected. Mannheim tended to +try to account for every eventuality, and, after he had done that, he +would set aside reserves here and there, just in case they might be useful +if something unforeseen happened. + +Stanton got up, walked over to the window, and looked down at the streets +of Government City, eight floors below. + +All things considered, the Government had done the right thing. And, in +picking Mannheim, they had picked the right man. What would the average +citizen think if he knew the true story of the Nipe? If he discovered +that, at this very moment, the Nipe was being treated almost as an honored +guest of the Government? If he suspected that the Nipe could have been +killed easily at any time during the past six years? + +Would it be possible to explain that, in the long run, the knowledge +possessed by the Nipe was tremendously more valuable to the Race of Man +that the lives of a few individuals? + +Could those people down there, and the others like them all over the +world, be made to understand that, by his own lights, the Nipe had been +acting in a most civilized and gentlemanly way he knew? Would they see +that, because of the priceless information stored in that alien brain, the +Nipe's life had to be preserved at any cost? + +Dr. Yoritomo assumed that Mannheim would spread a story about the Nipe's +death--perhaps even display a carefully-made "corpse". But Stanton had the +feeling that the colonel had something else up his sleeve. + +The phone rang. Stanton walked over, thumbed the answer stud, and watched +Dr. Farnsworth's face take shape on the screen. + +"Bart, I just saw the tapes of your fight with the Nipe, Incredible! I'm +going to have them run over again, slowed down, so that I can see what +went on, and I'd like to have you tell as best you can, what went on in +your mind at each stage of the fight." + +"You mean right now? I have an appointment--" + +Farnsworth waved a hand. "No, no. Later. Take your time. But I am honestly +amazed that you won so easily. I knew you were good, and I knew you'd win, +but I honestly expected you to be injured." + +Stanton looked down at his bandaged hands, and felt the ache of his broken +rib and the blue bruise on his thigh. In spite of the way it looked, he +had actually been hurt worse than the Nipe had. That boy was _tough_! + +"The trouble was that he couldn't adapt himself to fighting in a new way," +he told Farnsworth. "He fought me as he would have fought another Nipe, +and that didn't work. I had the reach on him, and I could maneuver +faster." + +"It looked to me as though you were fighting him as you would fight +another human being," Farnsworth said. + +Stanton grinned. "I was, in a modified way. But _I_ won--the Nipe didn't." + +Farnsworth grinned back. "I see. Well, I'll let you know when I'm ready +for your impressions. Probably tomorrow some time." + +"Fine." + + * * * * * + +He walked back over to the window, but this time he looked at the horizon, +not at the street. + +Farnsworth had called him "Bart". It's funny, Stanton thought, how habit +can get the best of a man. Farnsworth had known the truth all along, and +now he knew that his patient--_former_ patient--was aware of the truth. +And still, he had called him "Bart". + +_And I still think of myself as Bart,_ he thought. _I probably always +will._ + +And why not? Martin Stanton no longer existed--in fact he had never had +much of a real existence. He was only a bad dream; only "Bart" was real. + +Take two people, genetically identical. Damage one of them so badly that +he is helpless and useless--and always only a step away from death. It is +inevitable that the weaker will identify himself with the stronger. + +The vague telepathic bond that always links identical twins (they "think +alike", they say) becomes unbalanced under such conditions. Normally, +there is a give-and-take, and each preserves the sense of his own +identity, since the two different sets of sense receptors give different +viewpoints. But if one of the twins is damaged badly enough something must +happen to the telepathic link. Usually, it is broken. + +But the link between Mart and Bart Stanton had not been broken. It had +become a one-way channel. Martin, in order to escape the prison of his own +body, had become a receptor for Bart's thoughts. He felt as Bart felt--the +thrill of running after a baseball, the pride of doing something clever +with his hands. + +In effect, Martin ceased to think. The thoughts in his mind were Bart's. +The feeling of identity was almost complete. + +To an outside observer, it appeared that Martin had become a cataleptic +schizophrenic, completely cut off from reality. The "Bart" part of him did +not want to be disturbed by the sensory impressions that "Mart's" body +provided. Like the schizophrenic, Martin was living in a little world that +was cut off from the actual physical world around his body. + +The difference between Martin's condition and that of the ordinary +schizophrenic was that _his_ little world actually existed. It was an +almost exact counterpart of the world that existed in the perfectly sane, +rational mind of his brother, Bart. It grew and developed as Bart did, fed +by the telepathic flow from the stronger mind to the weaker. + +There were two Barts, and no Mart at all. + +And then the Neurophysical Institute had come into the picture. A new +process had been developed, by which a human being could be +reconstructed--made, literally, into a superman. The drawback was that a +normal human body resisted the process--to the death, if necessary, just +as a normal human body will resist a skin graft from an alien donor. + +But the radiation-damaged body of Martin Stanton had no resistance of that +kind. With him--perhaps--the process might work. + +So Bartholomew Stanton, Martin's legal guardian after the death of their +mother, had given permission for the series of operations that would +rebuild his brother. + +The telepathic link, of course, had to be shut off--for a time, at least. +Part of that could be done in the treatment of Martin, but Bart, too, had +to do his part. By submitting to hypnosis, he had allowed himself to be +convinced that his name was Stanley Martin. He had taken a job on Luna, +and then had gone to the asteriods. The simple change of name and +environment had been just enough to snap the link during a time when +Martin's brain had been inactivated by therapy and anesthetics. + +Only the sense of identity remained. The patient was still Bart. + +Mannheim had used them both, naturally. Colonel Mannheim had the ability +to use anyone at hand, including himself, to get a job done. + +Stanton looked at his watch. It was almost time. + +Mannheim had sent for "Stanley Martin" when the time had come for him to +return in order to give the Nipe data that he would be sure to +misinterpret. A special code phrase in the message had released "Stanley +Martin" from the posthypnotic suggestion that had held him for so long. He +knew that he was Bartholomew Stanton again. + +_And so do I,_ thought the man by the window. _We have a lot to straighten +out, we two._ + +There was a knock at the door. + +Stanton walked over and opened it, trying to think. + +It was like looking into a mirror. + +"Hello, Bart," he said. + +"Hello, Bart," said the other. + +In that instant, the complete telepathic linkage was restored, and they +both knew what only one of them had known before--that, for a time, the +flow had been one-way again--that "Stanley Martin" had experienced the +entire battle with the Nipe. His release from the posthypnotic suggestion +had made it possible. + +_E duobus unum._ + +There was unity without loss of identity. + + * * * * * + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Anything You Can Do, by Gordon Randall Garrett + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANYTHING YOU CAN DO *** + +***** This file should be named 30742.txt or 30742.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/7/4/30742/ + +Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +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 + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/30742.zip b/30742.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a98ea55 --- /dev/null +++ b/30742.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8bdce0a --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #30742 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30742) |
