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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..30f5e67 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #51075 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/51075) diff --git a/old/51075-h.zip b/old/51075-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 153d12f..0000000 --- a/old/51075-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/51075-h/51075-h.htm b/old/51075-h/51075-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 269e26c..0000000 --- a/old/51075-h/51075-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,1584 +0,0 @@ -<!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=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Stone and a Spear, by Raymond F. 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Jones - -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/license - - -Title: A Stone and a Spear - -Author: Raymond F. Jones - -Release Date: January 29, 2016 [EBook #51075] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A STONE AND A SPEAR *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="352" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="titlepage"> -<h1>A Stone and a Spear</h1> - -<p>BY RAYMOND F. JONES</p> - -<p>Illustrated by JOHN BUNCH</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Galaxy Science Fiction December 1950.<br /> -Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br /> -the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p> - -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph3">Given: The future is probabilities merging into one certainty.<br /> -Proposition: Can the probabilities be made improbables<br /> -so that the certainty becomes impossible?</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>From Frederick to Baltimore, the rolling Maryland countryside lay under -a fresh blanket of green. Wholly unaware of the summer glory, Dr. -Curtis Johnson drove swiftly on the undulating highway, stirring clouds -of dust and dried grasses.</p> - -<p>Beside him, his wife, Louise, held her blowing hair away from her face -and laughed into the warm air. "Dr. Dell isn't going to run away. -Besides, you said we could call this a weekend vacation as well as a -business trip."</p> - -<p>Curt glanced at the speedometer and eased the pressure on the pedal. He -grinned. "Wool-gathering again."</p> - -<p>"What about?"</p> - -<p>"I was just wondering who said it first—one of the fellows at Detrick, -or that lieutenant at Bikini, or—"</p> - -<p>"Said <i>what</i>? What are you talking about?"</p> - -<p>"That crack about the weapons after the next war. He—whoever it -was—said there may be some doubt about what the weapons of the next -war will be like, but there is absolutely no doubt about the weapons of -World War IV. It will be fought with stones and spears. I guess any one -of us could have said it."</p> - -<p>Louise's smile grew tight and thin. "Don't any of you ever think of -anything but the next war—<i>any</i> of you?"</p> - -<p>"How can we? We're fighting it right now."</p> - -<p>"You make it sound so hopeless."</p> - -<p>"That's what Dell said in the days just before he quit. He said we -didn't <i>have</i> to stay at Detrick producing the toxins and aerosols that -will destroy millions of lives. But he never showed us how we could -quit—and be sure of staying alive. His own walking out was no more -than a futile gesture."</p> - -<p>"I just can't understand him, Curt. I think he's right in a way, but -what brought <i>him</i> to that viewpoint?"</p> - -<p>"Hard to tell," Curt said, unconsciously speeding up again. "After -the war, when the atomic scientists were publicly examining their -consciences, Dell told them to examine their own guts first. That -was typical of him then, but soon after, he swung just as strongly -pacifist and walked out of Detrick."</p> - -<p>"It still seems strange that he abandoned his whole career. The world's -foremost biochemist giving up the laboratory for a <i>truck farm</i>!" -Louise glanced down at the lunch basket between them. In it were -tomatoes that Dr. Hamon Dell had sent along with his invitation to -visit him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>For nearly a year Dr. Dell had been sending packages of choice fruit -and vegetables to his former colleagues, not only at the biological -warfare center at Camp Detrick but at the universities and other -research centers throughout the country.</p> - -<p>"I wish we knew exactly why he asked us to come out," said Louise.</p> - -<p>"Nobody claims to have figured him out. They laugh a little at him now. -They eat his gifts willingly enough, but consider him slightly off his -rocker. He still has all his biological talents, though. I've never -seen or tasted vegetables like the ones he grows."</p> - -<p>"And the brass at Detrick doesn't think he's gone soft in the head, -either," she added much too innocently. "So they ordered you to take -advantage of his invitation and try to persuade him to come back."</p> - -<p>Curt turned his head so sharply that Louise laughed.</p> - -<p>"No, I didn't read any secret, hush-hush papers," she said. "But it's -pretty obvious, isn't it, the way you rushed right over to General -Hansen after you got the invitation?"</p> - -<p>"It <i>is</i> hush-hush, top-secret stuff," said Curt, his eyes once more on -the road. "The Army doesn't want it to leak, but they need Dell, need -him badly. Anyone knowing bio-war developments would understand. They -wanted to send me before. Dell's invitation was the break we needed. -I may be the one with sufficient influence to bring him back. I hope -so. But keep it under your permanent and forget your guessing games. -There's more to it than you know."</p> - -<p>The car passed through a cool, wooded section and Louise leaned back -and drank in the beauty of it.</p> - -<p>"Hush-hush, top secret stuff," she said. "Grown men playing children's -games."</p> - -<p>"Pretty deadly games for children, darling."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>In the late afternoon they by-passed the central part of Baltimore and -headed north beyond the suburb of Towson toward Dell's truck farm.</p> - -<p>His sign was visible for a half mile:</p> - -<p class="ph4">YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT<br /> -Eat the Best<br /> -EAT DELL'S VEGETABLES</p> - -<p>"Dr. Hamon Dell, world's foremost biochemist—and truck farmer," Curt -muttered as he swung the car off the highway.</p> - -<p>Louise stepped out when the tires ceased crunching on the gravel lane. -She scanned the fields and old woods beyond the ancient but preserved -farmhouse. "It's so unearthly."</p> - -<p>Curt followed. The song of birds, which had been so noticeable before, -seemed strangely muted. The land itself was an alien, faintly greenish -hue, a color repulsive to more than just the eyes.</p> - -<p>"It must be something in this particular soil," said Curt, "something -that gives it that color and produces such wonderful crops. I'll have -to remember to ask Dell about it."</p> - -<p>"You want Dr. Dell?"</p> - -<p>They whirled at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Louise uttered a -startled cry.</p> - -<p>The gaunt figure behind them coughed asthmatically and pointed with an -arm that seemed composed only of bones and brownish skin, so thin as to -be almost translucent.</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Curt shakenly. "We're friends of his."</p> - -<p>"Dell's in back. I'll tell him you're here."</p> - -<p>The figure shambled away and Louise shook herself as if to rid her mind -of the vision. "If our grandchildren ever ask about zombies, I can -tell them. Who in the world do you suppose he is?"</p> - -<p>"Hired man, I suppose. Sounds as if he should be in a lung sanitarium. -Funny that Dell would keep him around in that condition."</p> - -<p>From somewhere behind the house came the sound of a truck engine. Curt -took Louise's arm and led her around the trim, graveled path.</p> - -<p>The old farmhouse had been very carefully renovated. Everywhere was -evidence of exquisite care, yet the cumulative atmosphere remained -uninviting, almost oppressive. Curt told himself it was the utter -silence, made even more tense by the lonely chugging of the engine in -back, and the incredible harsh color of the soil beneath their feet.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Rounding the corner, they came in sight of a massive tank truck. From -it a hose led to an underground storage tank and pulsed slowly under -the force of the liquid gushing through it. No one was in sight.</p> - -<p>"What could that be for?" asked Louise.</p> - -<p>"You've got me. Could be gasoline, but Dell hasn't any reason for -storing that much here."</p> - -<p>They advanced slowly and amazement crept over Curt as he comprehended -the massiveness of the machine. The tank was of elliptical cross -section, over ten feet on its major axis. Six double wheels supported -the rear; even the front ones were double. In spite of such wide weight -distribution, the tires were pressing down the utterly dry ground to a -depth of an inch or more.</p> - -<p>"They must haul liquid lead in that thing," said Curt.</p> - -<p>"It's getting cool. I wish Dell would show up." Louise glanced out -over the twenty-acre expanse of truck farm. Thick rows of robust -plants covered the area. Tomatoes, carrots, beets, lettuce, and other -vegetables—a hundred or so fruit trees were at the far end. Between -them ran the road over which the massive truck had apparently entered -the farm from the rear.</p> - -<p>A heavy step sounded abruptly and Dell's shaggy head appeared from -around the end of the truck. His face lighted with pleasure.</p> - -<p>"Curt, my boy! And Louise! I thought you weren't going to show up at -all."</p> - -<p>Curt's hand was almost lost in Dell's enormous grip, but it wasn't -because of that that his grip was passive. It was his shocked reaction -to Dell's haggard appearance. The fierce eyes looked merely old and -tired now. The ageless, leathery hide of Dell's face seemed to have -collapsed before some overpowering decay, its bronze smoothness -shattered by deep lines that were like tool marks of pain.</p> - -<p>Curt spoke in a subdued voice. "It's hard to get away from Detrick. -Always one more experiment to try—"</p> - -<p>"—And the brass riding you as if they expected you to win another war -for them tomorrow afternoon," said Dell. "I remember."</p> - -<p>"We wondered about this truck," Louise commented brightly, trying to -change the subject. "We finally gave up on it."</p> - -<p>"Oh, that. It brings liquid fertilizer to pump into my irrigation -water, that's all. No mystery. Let's go on to the house. After you're -settled we can catch up on everything and I'll tell you about the -things I'm doing here."</p> - -<p>"Who's the man we saw?" asked Curt. "He looks as if his health is -pretty precarious."</p> - -<p>"That's Brown. He came with the place—farmed it for years for my uncle -before I inherited it. He could grow a garden on a granite slab. In -spite of appearances, he's well enough physically."</p> - -<p>"How has your own health been? You have—changed—since you were at -Detrick."</p> - -<p>Dell raised a lock of steel-gray hair in his fingers and dismissed the -question with a wan smile. "We all wear out sometime," he said. "My -turn had to come."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Inside, some of the oppressiveness vanished as the evening passed. It -was cool enough for lighting the fireplace, and they settled before it -after dinner. While they watched the flickering light that whipped the -beamed ceiling, Dell entertained them with stories of his neighbors, -whose histories he knew clear back to Revolutionary times.</p> - -<p>Early, however, Louise excused herself. She knew they would want -privacy to thresh out the purposes behind Dell's invitation—and Curt's -acceptance.</p> - -<p>When she was gone, there was a moment's silence. The logs crackled with -shocking pistol shots in the fireplace. The scientist moved to stir the -coals and then turned abruptly to Curt.</p> - -<p>"When are you going to leave Detrick?"</p> - -<p>"When are <i>you</i> coming back?" Curt demanded instead of answering.</p> - -<p>"So they still want me, even after the things I said when I left."</p> - -<p>"You're needed badly. When I told Hansen I was coming down, he said it -would be worth five years of my own work to bring you back."</p> - -<p>"They want me to produce even deadlier toxins than those I gave them," -Dell said viciously. "They want some that can kill ten million people -in four minutes instead of only one million—"</p> - -<p>"Any man would go insane if he looked at it that way. It would be the -same as gun-makers being tormented by the vision of torn men destroyed -by their bullets, the sorrowing families—"</p> - -<p>"And why shouldn't the gun-makers be tormented?" Dell's voice was -low with controlled hate. "They are men like you and me who give the -<i>war</i>-makers new tools for their trade."</p> - -<p>"Oh, Dell, it's not as simple as that." Curt raised a hand and let it -fall wearily. They had been over this so many times before. "Weapon -designers are no more responsible than any other agents of society. -It's pure neurosis to absorb the whole guilt of wars yet unfought -merely because you happened to have developed a potential weapon."</p> - -<p>Dell touched the massive dome of his skull. "Here within this brain of -mine has been conceived a thing which will probably destroy a billion -human lives in the coming years. D. triconus toxin in a suitable -aerosol requires only a countable number of molecules in the lungs of -a man to kill him. My brain and mine alone is responsible for that -vicious, murderous discovery."</p> - -<p>"Egotism! Any scientist's work is built upon the pyramid of past -knowledge."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"The weapon I have described exists. If I had not created it, it would -not exist. It is as simple as that. No one shares my guilt and my -responsibility. And what more do they want of me now? What greater -dream of mass slaughter and destruction have they dreamed?"</p> - -<p>"They want you," said Curt quietly, "because they believe we are not -the only ones possessing the toxin. They need you to come back and help -find the antitoxin for D. triconus."</p> - -<p>Dell shook his head. "That's a blind hope. The action of D. triconus is -like a match set to a powder train. The instant its molecules contact -protoplasm, they start a chain reaction that rips apart the cell -structure. It spreads like fire from one cell to the next, and nothing -can stop it once it's started operating within a given organism."</p> - -<p>"But doesn't this sense of guilt—unwarranted as it is—make you <i>want</i> -to find an antitoxin?"</p> - -<p>"Suppose I succeeded? I would have canceled the weapon of an enemy. -The military would know he could nullify ours in time. Then they would -command me to work out still another toxin. It's a vicious and insane -circle, which must be broken somewhere. The purpose of the entire -remainder of my life is to break it."</p> - -<p>"When you are fighting for your life and the enemy already has his -hands about your throat," Curt argued, "you reach for the biggest rock -you can get your hands on and beat his brains in. You don't try to -persuade him that killing is unethical."</p> - -<p>For an instant it seemed to Curt that a flicker of humor touched the -corners of Dell's mouth. Then the lines tightened down again.</p> - -<p>"Exactly," he said. "You reach for a rock and beat his brains in. You -don't wipe human life off the face of the Earth in order to reach that -enemy. I asked you to come down here to help me break this circle of -which I spoke. There has to be someone here—after I'm gone—"</p> - -<p>Dell's eyes shifted to the depths of shadows beyond the firelight and -remained fixed on unseen images.</p> - -<p>"Me? Help you?" Curt asked incredulously. "What could I do? Give up -science and become a truck gardener, too?"</p> - -<p>"You might say that we would be in the rock business," replied Dell. -"Fighting is no longer on the level of one man with his hands about -another's throat, but it <i>should</i> be. Those who want power and -domination should have to fight for it personally. But it has been a -long time since they had to.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Even in the old days, kings and emperors hired mercenaries to fight -their wars. The militarists don't buy swords now. They buy brains. -We're the mercenaries of the new day, Curt, you and I. Once there was -honor in our profession. We searched for truth for its own sake, and -because it was our way of life. Once we were the hope of the world -because science was a universal language.</p> - -<p>"What a horrible joke that turned out to be! Today we are the terror of -the world. The war-makers built us fine laboratories, shining palaces, -and granted every whim—for a price. They took us up to the hills and -showed us the whole world and we sold our souls for it.</p> - -<p>"Look what happened after the last war. Invading armies carried off -prize Nazi brains like so much loot, set the scientists up in big new -laboratories, and these new mercenaries keep right on pouring out -knowledge for other kings and emperors.</p> - -<p>"Their loyalty is only to their science. But they can't experiment for -knowledge any more, only weapons and counter-weapons. You'll say I'm -anti-war, even, perhaps, anti-American or pro-Russian. I am not against -just wars, but I am against unjust slaughter. And I love America too -much to let her destroy herself along with the enemy."</p> - -<p>"Then what are we to do?" Curt demanded fiercely. "What are we to do -while enemy scientists prepare these same weapons to exterminate <i>us</i>? -Sure, it's one hell of a mess. Science is already dead. The kind you -talk about has been dead for twenty years. All our fine ideals are -worthless until the politicians find a solution to their quarrels."</p> - -<p>"Politicians? Since when did men of science have to wait upon -politicians for solutions of human problems?" Dell passed a hand over -his brow, and suddenly his face contorted in pain.</p> - -<p>"What is it?" Curt exclaimed, rising.</p> - -<p>"Nothing—nothing, my boy. Some minor trouble I've had lately. It will -pass in a moment."</p> - -<p>With effort, he went on. "I wanted to say that already you have come -to think of science being divided into armed camps by the artificial -boundaries of the politicians. Has it been so long ago that it was -not even in your lifetime, when scientists regarded themselves as one -international brotherhood?"</p> - -<p>"I can't quarrel with your ideals," said Curt softly. "But national -boundary lines do, actually, divide the scientists of the world into -armed camps."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"Your premises are still incorrect. They do not deliberately war on -each other. It is only that they have blindly sold themselves as -mercenaries. And they can be called upon to redeem themselves. They can -break their unholy contracts."</p> - -<p>"There would have to be simultaneous agreement among the scientists of -all nations. And they are men, influenced by national ideals. They are -not merely ivory-tower dabblers and searchers after truth."</p> - -<p>"Do you remember me five years ago?" Dell's face became more haggard, -as if the memory shamed him. "Do you remember when I told the atomic -scientists to examine their guts instead of their consciences?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. You certainly <i>have</i> changed."</p> - -<p>"And so can other men. There is a way. I need your help desperately, -Curt—"</p> - -<p>The face of the aging biochemist contorted again with unbearable pain. -His forehead beaded with sweat as he clenched his skull between his -vein-knotted hands.</p> - -<p>"Dell! What is it?"</p> - -<p>"It will pass," Dr. Dell breathed through clenched teeth. "I have some -medicine—in my bedroom. I'm afraid I'll have to excuse myself tonight. -There's so much more I have to say to you, but we'll continue our talk -in the morning, Curt. I'm sorry—"</p> - -<p>He stumbled out, refusing Curt's offer of aid with a grim headshake. -The fire crackled loudly within the otherwise silent room. Curt -felt cold at the descending chill of the night, his mind bewildered -at Dell's barrage, some of it so reasonable, some of it so utterly -confused. And there was no clue to the identity of the powerful force -that had made so great a change in the once militant scientist.</p> - -<p>Slowly Curt mounted the staircase of the old house and went to the room -Dell had assigned them. Louise was in bed reading a murder mystery.</p> - -<p>"Secret mission completed?" she asked.</p> - -<p>Curt sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm afraid something terrible -is wrong with Dell. Besides the neurotic guilt complex because of his -war work, he showed signs of a terrific and apparently habitual pain in -his head. If that should be brain tumor, it might explain his erratic -notions, his abandonment of his career."</p> - -<p>"Oh, I hope it's not that!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It seemed to Curt that he had slept only minutes before he was roused -by sounds in the night. He rolled over and switched on the light. His -watch said two o'clock. Louise raised up in sharp alarm.</p> - -<p>"What is it?" she whispered.</p> - -<p>"I thought I heard something. There it is again!"</p> - -<p>"It sounds like someone in pain. It must be Dell!"</p> - -<p>Curt leaped from the bed and wrestled into his bathrobe. As he hurried -toward Dell's room, there was another deep groan that ended in a -shuddering sob of unbearable agony.</p> - -<p>He burst into the scientist's room and switched on the light. Dell -looked up, eyes glazed with pain.</p> - -<p>"Dr. Dell!"</p> - -<p>"Curt—I thought I had time left, but this is as far as I can go—Just -remember all I said tonight. Don't forget a word of it." He sat up -rigidly, hardly breathing in the effort of control. "The responsibility -for the coming destruction of civilization lies at the doors of the -scientist mercenaries. Don't allow it, Curt. Get them to abandon the -laboratories of the warriors. Get them to reclaim their honor—"</p> - -<p>He fell back upon the pillow, his face white with pain and shining with -sweat. "Brown—see Brown. He can tell you the—the rest."</p> - -<p>"I'll go for a doctor," said Curt. "Who have you had? Louise will stay -with you."</p> - -<p>"Don't bring a doctor. There's no escaping this. I've known it for -months. Wait here with me, Curt. I'll be gone soon."</p> - -<p>Curt stared with pity at the great scientist whose mind had so -disintegrated. "You need a doctor. I'll call a hospital, Johns Hopkins, -if you want."</p> - -<p>"Wait, maybe you're right. I have no phone here. Get Dr. Wilson—the -Judge Building, Towson—find his home address in a phone book."</p> - -<p>"Fine. I'll only be a little while."</p> - -<p>He stepped to the door.</p> - -<p>"Curt! Take the lane down to the new road—behind the farm. Quicker—it -cuts off a mile or so—go down through the orchard—"</p> - -<p>"All right. Take it easy now. I'll be right back."</p> - -<p>Curt frantically got dressed, ran down the stairs and out to the car. -He wondered absently what had become of the cadaverous Brown, who -seemed to have vanished from the premises.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The wheels spun gravel as he started the car and whipped it out of -the driveway. Then he was on the stretch of lane leading through the -grove. The moonless night was utterly dark, and the stream of light -ahead of the car seemed the only living thing upon the whole landscape. -He almost wished he had taken the more familiar road. To get lost now -might mean death for Dell.</p> - -<p>No traffic flowed past him in either direction. There were no buildings -showing lights. Overwhelming desolation seemed to possess the -countryside and seep into his soul. It seemed impossible that this lay -close to the other highway with which he was familiar.</p> - -<p>He strained his eyes into the darkness for signs of an all-night gas -station or store from which he could phone. Finally, he resigned -himself to going all the way to Towson. At that moment he glimpsed a -spark of light far ahead.</p> - -<p>Encouraged, Curt stepped on the gas. In less than ten minutes he was at -the spot. He braked the car to a stop, and surveyed the building as he -got out. It seemed more like a power substation than anything else. But -there should be a telephone, at least.</p> - -<p>He knocked on the door. Almost instantly, footsteps sounded within.</p> - -<p>The door swung wide.</p> - -<p>"I wonder if I could use your—" Curt began. He gasped. "Brown! Dell's -dying—we've got to get a doctor for him—"</p> - -<p>As if unable to comprehend, the hired man stared dumbly for a long -moment. His hollow-cheeked face was almost skeletal in the light that -flooded out from behind him.</p> - -<p>Then from somewhere within the building came a voice, sharp with -tension. "Brown! What the devil are you doing? Shut that door!"</p> - -<p>That brought the figure to life. He whipped out a gun and motioned Curt -inward. "Step inside. We'll have to decide what to do with you when -Carlson finds you're here."</p> - -<p>"What's the matter with you?" Curt asked, stupefied. "Dell's dying. He -needs help."</p> - -<p>"Get in here!"</p> - -<p>Curt moved slowly forward. Brown closed the door behind him and -motioned toward a closed door at the other end of a short hall. They -opened it and stepped into a dimly lighted room.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus1.jpg" width="199" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Curt's eyes slowly adjusted and he saw what seemed to be a laboratory. -It was so packed with equipment that there was scarcely room for the -group of twelve or fifteen men jammed closely about some object with -their backs to Curt and Brown.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus2.jpg" width="473" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>Brown shambled forward like an agitated skeleton, breaking the circle. -Then Curt saw that the object of the men's attention was a large -cathode ray screen occupied by a single green line. There was a pip on -it rising sharply near one side of the two-foot tube. The pip moved -almost imperceptibly toward a vertical red marker over the face of the -screen. The men stared as if hypnotized by it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The newcomers' arrival, however, disturbed their attention. One man -turned with an irritable growl. "Brown, for heaven's sake—"</p> - -<p>He was a bony creature, even more cadaverous than Brown. He caught -sight of Curt's almost indecently robust face. He gasped and swore.</p> - -<p>"Who is this? What's he doing here?"</p> - -<p>The entire montage of skull faces turned upon Curt. He heard a sharp -collective intake of breath, as if his presence were some unforeseen -calamity that had shaken the course of their incomprehensible lives.</p> - -<p>"This is Curtis Johnson," said Brown. "He got lost looking for a doctor -for Dell."</p> - -<p>A mummylike figure rose from a seat before the instrument. "Your coming -is tremendously unfortunate, but for the moment we can do nothing about -it. Sit here beside me. My name is Tarron Sark."</p> - -<p>The man indicated a chair.</p> - -<p>"My friend, Dr. Dell, is dying," Curt snapped out, refusing to sit -down. "I've got to get help. I saw your light and hoped you'd allow me -to use your phone. I don't know who you are nor what Dell's hired man -is doing here with you. But you've got to let me go for help!"</p> - -<p>"No." The man, Sark, shook his head. "Dell is reconciled. He has to go. -We are awaiting precisely the event you would halt—his death."</p> - -<p>He had known it, Curt thought, from the moment he entered that room. -Like vultures sitting on cliffs waiting for the death of their prey, -these fantastic men let their glance slip back to the screen. The green -line was a third of the way toward the red marker now, and moving more -rapidly.</p> - -<p>It was nightmare—meaningless—</p> - -<p>"I'm not staying," Curt insisted. "You can't prevent me from helping -Dell without assuming responsibility for his death. I demand you let me -call."</p> - -<p>"You're not going to call," said Sark wearily. "And we assumed -responsibility for Dell's death long ago. Sit down!"</p> - -<p>Slowly Curt sank down upon the chair beside the stranger. There was -nothing else to do. He was powerless against Brown's gun. But he'd -bring them to justice somehow, he swore.</p> - -<p>He didn't understand the meaning of the slowly moving pattern on the -'scope face, yet, as his eyes followed that pip, he sensed tension in -the watching men that seemed sinister, almost murderous. How?</p> - -<p>What did the inexorably advancing pip signify?</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>No one spoke. The room was stifling hot and the breathing of the circle -of men was a dull, rattling sound in Curt's ears.</p> - -<p>Quickly then, gathering sudden momentum, the pip accelerated. The -circle of men grew taut.</p> - -<p>The pip crossed the red line—and vanished.</p> - -<p>Only the smooth green trace remained, motionless and without meaning.</p> - -<p>With hesitant shuffling of feet, the circle expanded. The men glanced -uncertainly at one another.</p> - -<p>One said, "Well, that's the end of Dell. We'll soon know now if we're -on the right track, or if we've botched it. Carlson will call when he's -computed it."</p> - -<p>"The end of Dell?" Curt repeated slowly, as if trying to convince -himself of what he knew had happened. "The pip on the screen—that -showed his life leaving him?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," said Sark. "He knew he had to go. And there are perhaps hundreds -more like him. But Dell couldn't have told you of that—"</p> - -<p>"What will we do with him?" Brown asked abruptly.</p> - -<p>"If Dell is dead, you murdered him!" Curt shouted.</p> - -<p>A rising personal fear grew within him. They could not release him now, -even though his story would make no sense to anybody. But they had -somehow killed Dell, or thought they had, and they wouldn't hesitate -to kill Curt. He thought of Louise in the great house with the corpse -of Haman Dell—if, of course, he was actually dead. But that was -nonsense....</p> - -<p>"Dell must have sent you to us!" Sark said, as if a great mystery had -suddenly been lifted from his mind. "He did not have time to tell you -everything. Did he tell you to take the road behind the farm?"</p> - -<p>Curt nodded bitterly. "He told me it was the quickest way to get to a -doctor."</p> - -<p>"He did? Then he knew even better than we did how rapidly he was -slipping. Yes, this was the quickest way."</p> - -<p>"What are you talking about?" Curt demanded.</p> - -<p>"Did Dell say anything at all about what he wanted of you?"</p> - -<p>"It was all wild. Something about helping with some crazy plans to -retreat from the scientific world. He was going to finish talking in -the morning, but I guess it wouldn't have mattered. I realize now that -he was sick and irrational."</p> - -<p>"Too sick to explain everything, but not irrational," Sark said -thoughtfully. "He left it to us to tell you, since you are to succeed -him."</p> - -<p>"Succeed Dell? In what?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sark suddenly flipped a switch on a panel at his right. A screen -lighted with some fuzzy image. It cleared with a slight dial -adjustment, and Curt seemed to be looking at some oddly familiar -moonlit ruin.</p> - -<p>"An American city," said Sark, hurrying his words now. "Any city. They -are all alike. Ruin. Death. This one died thirty years ago."</p> - -<p>"I don't understand," Curt complained, bewildered. "Thirty years—"</p> - -<p>"At another point in the Time Continuum," said Sark. "The future. Your -future, you understand. Or, rather, <i>our</i> present, the one you created -for us."</p> - -<p>Curt recoiled at the sudden venom in Sark's voice. "The <i>future</i>?" That -was what they had in common with Dell—psychosis, systematic delusions. -He had suspected danger before; now it was imminent and terrifying.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps you are one of those who regard your accomplishments with -pride," Sark went on savagely, ignoring or unaware of Curt's fear and -horror. "That the hydrogen bombs smashed the cities, and the aerosols -destroyed the remnants of humanity seems insignificant to you beside -the high technical achievement these things represent."</p> - -<p>Curt's throat was dry with panic. Irrelevantly, he recalled the -pain-fired eyes of Dell and the dying scientist's words: "The -responsibility for the coming destruction of civilization lies at the -doors of the scientist mercenaries—"</p> - -<p>"Some of us <i>did</i> manage to survive," said Sark, glaring at the scene -of gaunt rubble. Curt could see the veins pounding beneath the thin -flesh of his forehead. "We lived for twenty years with the dream of -rebuilding a world, the same dream that has followed all wars. But at -last we knew that the dream was truly vain this time. We survivors -lived in hermetically sealed caverns, trying to exist and recover our -lost science and technology.</p> - -<p>"We could not emerge into the Earth's atmosphere. Its pollution with -virulent aerosols would persist for another hundred years. We could -not bear a new race out of these famished and rickety bodies of ours. -Unless Man was to vanish completely from the face of the Earth, we had -only a single hope. That hope was to prevent the destruction from ever -occurring!"</p> - -<p>Sark's eyes were burning now. "Do you understand what that means? We -had to go <i>back</i>, not forward. We had to arm to fight a new war, a war -to prevent the final war that destroyed Mankind."</p> - -<p>"Back? How could you go back?" Curt hesitated, grasping now the full -insanity of the scene about him. "How have you <i>come</i> back?" He waited -tautly for the answer. It would be gibberish, of course, like all the -mad conversation before it.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"The undisturbed flow of time from the beginning to the end—neither of -which we can experience—we call the Prime Continuum," Sark replied. -"Mathematically speaking, it is composed of billions of separate bands -of probability running side by side. For analogy, you may liken it to a -great river, whose many insignificant tributaries merge into a roaring, -turbulent whole. That is the flow of time, the Prime Continuum.</p> - -<p>"You may change one of these tributaries, dam it up, turn it aside, -let it reach the main stream at a different point. No matter how -insignificant the tributary, the stream will not be the same after -the change. That is what we are doing. We are controlling critical -tributaries of the Prime Continuum, altering the hell that you -scientists have so generously handed down to us.</p> - -<p>"Dell was a critical tributary. You, Dr. Curtis Johnson, are another. -Changing or destroying such key individuals snips off branches of -knowledge before they come into fruit."</p> - -<p>It was an ungraspable answer, but it had to be argued against because -of its conclusion. "The scientists are not bringing about the war," -Curt said, looking from one fleshless face to another. "Find the -politicians responsible, those willing to turn loose any horror to gain -power. <i>They</i> are the ones you want."</p> - -<p>"That would mean destroying half the human race. In your day, nearly -every man is literally a politician."</p> - -<p>"Talk sense!" Curt said angrily.</p> - -<p>"A politician, as we have come to define him, is simply one willing to -sacrifice the common good for his own ends. It is a highly infectious -disease in a day when altruism is taken for cowardice or mere -stupidity. No, we have not mistaken our goal, Dr. Johnson. We cannot -hasten the maturity of the race. We can only hope to take the matches -away so the children cannot burn the house down. Whatever you doubt, do -not doubt that we are from the future or that we caused Dell's death. -He is only one of many."</p> - -<p>Curt slumped. "I did doubt it. I still do, yet not with conviction. -Why?"</p> - -<p>"Because your own sense of guilt tells you that you and Dell and others -like you are literally the matches which we have to remove. Because -your knowledge of science has overcome your desire not to believe. -Because you <i>know</i> the shape of the future."</p> - -<p>"The war after the Third World War—" Curt murmured. "Someone said it -would be fought with stones and spears, but your weapons are far from -stones and spears."</p> - -<p>"Perhaps not so far at that," said Sark, his face twisting wryly. He -reached to a nearby table and picked up a tomato and a carrot. "These -are our weapons. As humble and primitive as the stones and spears of -cavemen."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"You're joking," Curt replied, almost ready to grin.</p> - -<p>"No. This is the ultimate development of biological warfare. Man is -what he eats—"</p> - -<p>"That's what Dell's sign said."</p> - -<p>"We operate hundreds of gardens and farms such as Dell's. We work -through the fertilizing compounds we supply to these farms. These -compounds contain chemicals that eventually lodge in the cells of those -who eat the produce. They take up stations within the brain cells and -change the man—or destroy him.</p> - -<p>"Certain cells of the brain are responsible for specific -characteristics. Ways of altering these cells were found by introducing -minute quantities of specific radioactive materials which could be -incorporated into vegetable foods. During the Third War wholesale -insanity was produced in entire populations by similar methods. Here, -we are using it to accomplish humane purposes.</p> - -<p>"We are simply restraining the scientists responsible for the -destroying weapons that produced our nightmare world. You saw the -change that took place in Dell. There is a good example of what we do."</p> - -<p>"But he <i>did</i> change," Curt pointed out. "He <i>was</i> carrying out your -work. Wasn't that enough for you? Why did you decide he had to die?"</p> - -<p>"Ordinarily, we don't want to kill if the change is produced. Sometimes -the brain cells are refractory and the characteristics too ingrained. -The cells develop tumorous activity as a result of the treatment. So -it was with Dell. In his case, however, we would have been forced to -kill him by other means if he had not died as he did. This, too, he -understood very well. That was why he really wanted no doctor to help -him."</p> - -<p>"You must have driven him insane first!"</p> - -<p>"Look at this and see if you still think so." Sark led the way to a -small instrument and pointed to the eyepiece of it. "Look in there."</p> - -<p>Curt bent over. Light sprang up at Sark's touch of a switch. Then a -scene began to move before Curt's eyes.</p> - -<p>"Dell!" he exclaimed.</p> - -<p>The scene was of some vast and well-equipped biological laboratory, -much like those of Camp Detrick. Silent, mask-faced technicians moved -with precision about their tasks. Dr. Dell was directing operations.</p> - -<p>But there was something wrong. The figure was not the Dell that Curt -knew.</p> - -<p>As if Sark sensed Curt's comprehension of this, the scene advanced and -swelled until the whole area of vision was filled with Dell's face. -Curt gasped. The face was blank and hideous. The eyes stared. When -the scene retreated once more, Curt saw now that Dell moved as an -automaton, almost without volition of his own.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>As he moved away from the bench like a sleepwalker, there came briefly -into view the figure of an armed guard at the door. The figure of a -corporal, grim in battle dress.</p> - -<p>Curt looked up, sick as if some inner sense had divined the meaning of -that scene which he could not yet put into words.</p> - -<p>"Had enough?" asked Sark.</p> - -<p>"What does it mean?"</p> - -<p>"That is Dell as he would have been. That is what he was willing to die -to avoid."</p> - -<p>"But what <i>is</i> it?"</p> - -<p>"A military research laboratory twelve years into your future. You -are aware that in your own time a good deal of research has come -to a standstill because many first-string scientists have revolted -against military domination. Unfortunately, there are plenty of -second-stringers available and they are enough for most tasks—the -youngsters with new Ph.D.s who are awed by the glitter of golden -laboratories. But, lacking experience or imagination, they can't see -through the glitter or have the insight for great work. Some will -eventually, too late, however, and they will be replaced by eager new -youngsters."</p> - -<p>"This scene of Dell—"</p> - -<p>"Just twelve years from what you call now. Deadlier weapons will be -needed and so a bill will be passed to draft the reluctant first-line -men—against their will, if necessary."</p> - -<p>"You can't force creative work," Curt objected.</p> - -<p>Sark shrugged. "There are drugs that do wonderful and terrible things -to men's minds. They can force creation or mindless destruction, -confession or outrageous subterfuge. You saw your opponents make some -use of them. A cardinal, for example, and an engineer, among others. -Now you have seen your friend, Dell, as he would have been. Not the -same drugs, of course, but the end result is the same."</p> - -<p>Curt's horror turned to stubborn disbelief. "America wouldn't use such -methods," he said flatly.</p> - -<p>"Today? No," agreed Sark. "But when a country is committed to -inhuman warfare—even though the goal may be honorable—where is -the line to stop at? Each brutality prepares the way for the next. -Even concentration camps and extermination centers become logical -necessities. You have heard your opponents say that the end justifies -the means. You have seen for yourself—the means become the end."</p> - -<p>"But Dell could have escaped," Curt protested. "You could have helped -him to your own time or another. He was still valuable. He needn't have -died!"</p> - -<p>"There is no such thing as actual travel in time," explained Sark. -"Or at least in our day we have found none. There is possible only a -bending back of a branch of the Prime Continuum so that we can witness, -warn, instruct, gain aid in saving the future. And there can be meeting -only in this narrow sector of unreality where the branch joins the -main stream. Our farms adjoin such sectors, but farther than that we -cannot go, nor can one of you become a citizen of the world you have -created for us.</p> - -<p>"But I wish it were so!" Sark bit out venomously. "We'd kidnap you -by the millions, force you to look upon the ruin and the horror, let -you breathe the atmosphere that no man can inhale and live, the only -atmosphere there is in that world. Yes, I wish you could become our -guests there. Our problem would be easier. But it can't be done. This -is the only way we can work.</p> - -<p>"Dell had to go. There was no escape for him, no safety for us if he -lived. He would have been tracked down, captured like a beast and set -to work against his will. It was there in the Prime Continuum. Nothing -could cancel it except death, the death that saves a billion lives -because he will not produce a toxin deadlier than D. triconus."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The vengeance in Sark's voice was almost tangible. Involuntarily Curt -retreated a step before it. And—almost—he thought he understood these -men out of time.</p> - -<p>"What is there—" he began hoarsely and had to stop. "What is there -that I can do?"</p> - -<p>"We need you to take over Dell's farm. It is of key importance. The -list of men he was treating was an extremely vital one. That work -cannot be interrupted now."</p> - -<p>"How can you accomplish anything by operating only here?" Curt -objected. "While you stifle our defenses, our enemies are arming to the -teeth. When you've made us sufficiently helpless, they'll strike."</p> - -<p>"Did I say we were so restricted?" answered Sark, smiling for the first -time. "You cannot imagine what a fresh vegetable means on a professor's -table in Moscow. In Atomgrad a ripe tomato is worth a pound of uranium. -How do I know? Because I walked the streets of Atomgrad with my -grandfather."</p> - -<p>"Then you're a—"</p> - -<p>Sark's face grew hard and bitter in the half light of the room. "Was," -he corrected. "Or might have been. There are no nationalities where -there are no nations, no political parties where there are only hunger -and death. The crime of the future is not any person's or country's. It -is the whole of humanity's."</p> - -<p>An alarm sounded abruptly.</p> - -<p>"Carlson!" someone tensely exclaimed.</p> - -<p>Sark whirled to the panels and adjusted the controls. A small screen -lighted, showing the image of a man with graying hair and imperious -face. His sharp eyes seemed to burn directly into Curt's.</p> - -<p>"How did it go?" exclaimed Sark. "Was the Prime Continuum shift as -expected?"</p> - -<p>"No! It still doesn't compute out. Nothing's right. The war is still -going on. The Continuum is absolute hell."</p> - -<p>"I should have known," said Sark in dismay. "I should have called you."</p> - -<p>"What is it? Do you know what's wrong?"</p> - -<p>"Johnson. Dr. Curtis Johnson. He's here."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Rage spread upon Carlson's face. An oath exploded from his lips. -"No wonder the situation doesn't compute with him out of the Prime -Continuum. Why did he come there?"</p> - -<p>"Dell sent him. Dell died too quickly. He didn't have time to instruct -Johnson. I have told him what we want of him."</p> - -<p>"Do you understand?" Carlson demanded of Curt with abruptness that was -almost anger.</p> - -<p>Curt looked slowly about the room and back to the face of his -questioner. Understand? If they sent him back, allowed him to go back, -could he ever be sure that he had not witnessed a thing of nightmare in -this shadowy dream world?</p> - -<p>Yes, he could be sure. He had seen the blasted city, just the way he -knew it could be—<i>would</i> be unless someone prevented it. He had seen -the pattern on the scope, attuned to the tiny tributary of the Prime -Continuum that was the life of Dr. Dell, had seen it run out, dying as -Dell had died.</p> - -<p>He could believe, too, that there was a little farm near Atomgrad, -where a tomato on a scientist's table was more potent than the bombs -building in the arsenal.</p> - -<p>"I understand," he said. "Shall I go back now?"</p> - -<p>Sark put a paper into his hands. "Here is a list of new names. You will -find Dell's procedures and records in his desk at the farm. Do not -underestimate the importance of your work. You have seen the failure of -the Prime Continuum to compute properly with you out of it. You will -correct that.</p> - -<p>"Your only contact from now on will be through Brown, who will bring -the tank truck once a year. You know what to do. You are on your own."</p> - -<p>It was like a surrealist painting as he left. The moon had risen, and -in all the barrenness there was nothing but the gray cement cube of -the building. The light spilling through the open doorway touched the -half dozen gaunt men who had followed him out to the car. Ahead was the -narrow band of roadway leading through some infinite nothingness that -would end in Dell's truck farm.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He started off. When he looked back a moment later, the building was no -longer there.</p> - -<p>He glanced at the list of names Sark gave him, chilled by the -importance of those men. For some there would be death as there had -been for Dell. For himself—</p> - -<p>He had forgotten to ask. But perhaps they would not have told him. Not -at this time, anyway. The chemically treated food produced tumors in -refractory, unresponsive cells. He had eaten Dell's vegetables, would -eat more.</p> - -<p>It was too late to ask and it didn't matter. He had important things to -do. First would be the writing of his resignation to the officials of -Camp Detrick.</p> - -<p>As of tomorrow, he would be Dr. Curtis Johnson, truck farmer, -specialist in atomic-age produce, luscious table gifts for the innocent -and not-so-innocent human matches that would, if he and his unknown -colleagues succeeded, be prevented from cremating the hopes of Mankind.</p> - -<p>Louise would help him hang the new sign:</p> - -<p class="ph4">YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT<br /> -Eat the Best<br /> -EAT JOHNSON'S<br /> -VEGETABLES</p> - -<p>Only, of course, she wouldn't know why he had taken Dell's job, nor -could he ever explain.</p> - -<p>It would probably be the death of Curt Johnson, but that was cheap -enough if humanity survived.</p> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Stone and a Spear, by Raymond F. 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Jones - -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/license - - -Title: A Stone and a Spear - -Author: Raymond F. Jones - -Release Date: January 29, 2016 [EBook #51075] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A STONE AND A SPEAR *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - A Stone and a Spear - - BY RAYMOND F. JONES - - Illustrated by JOHN BUNCH - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Galaxy Science Fiction December 1950. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - - - - Given: The future is probabilities merging into one certainty. - Proposition: Can the probabilities be made improbables - so that the certainty becomes impossible? - - -From Frederick to Baltimore, the rolling Maryland countryside lay under -a fresh blanket of green. Wholly unaware of the summer glory, Dr. -Curtis Johnson drove swiftly on the undulating highway, stirring clouds -of dust and dried grasses. - -Beside him, his wife, Louise, held her blowing hair away from her face -and laughed into the warm air. "Dr. Dell isn't going to run away. -Besides, you said we could call this a weekend vacation as well as a -business trip." - -Curt glanced at the speedometer and eased the pressure on the pedal. He -grinned. "Wool-gathering again." - -"What about?" - -"I was just wondering who said it first--one of the fellows at Detrick, -or that lieutenant at Bikini, or--" - -"Said _what_? What are you talking about?" - -"That crack about the weapons after the next war. He--whoever it -was--said there may be some doubt about what the weapons of the next -war will be like, but there is absolutely no doubt about the weapons of -World War IV. It will be fought with stones and spears. I guess any one -of us could have said it." - -Louise's smile grew tight and thin. "Don't any of you ever think of -anything but the next war--_any_ of you?" - -"How can we? We're fighting it right now." - -"You make it sound so hopeless." - -"That's what Dell said in the days just before he quit. He said we -didn't _have_ to stay at Detrick producing the toxins and aerosols that -will destroy millions of lives. But he never showed us how we could -quit--and be sure of staying alive. His own walking out was no more -than a futile gesture." - -"I just can't understand him, Curt. I think he's right in a way, but -what brought _him_ to that viewpoint?" - -"Hard to tell," Curt said, unconsciously speeding up again. "After -the war, when the atomic scientists were publicly examining their -consciences, Dell told them to examine their own guts first. That -was typical of him then, but soon after, he swung just as strongly -pacifist and walked out of Detrick." - -"It still seems strange that he abandoned his whole career. The world's -foremost biochemist giving up the laboratory for a _truck farm_!" -Louise glanced down at the lunch basket between them. In it were -tomatoes that Dr. Hamon Dell had sent along with his invitation to -visit him. - - * * * * * - -For nearly a year Dr. Dell had been sending packages of choice fruit -and vegetables to his former colleagues, not only at the biological -warfare center at Camp Detrick but at the universities and other -research centers throughout the country. - -"I wish we knew exactly why he asked us to come out," said Louise. - -"Nobody claims to have figured him out. They laugh a little at him now. -They eat his gifts willingly enough, but consider him slightly off his -rocker. He still has all his biological talents, though. I've never -seen or tasted vegetables like the ones he grows." - -"And the brass at Detrick doesn't think he's gone soft in the head, -either," she added much too innocently. "So they ordered you to take -advantage of his invitation and try to persuade him to come back." - -Curt turned his head so sharply that Louise laughed. - -"No, I didn't read any secret, hush-hush papers," she said. "But it's -pretty obvious, isn't it, the way you rushed right over to General -Hansen after you got the invitation?" - -"It _is_ hush-hush, top-secret stuff," said Curt, his eyes once more on -the road. "The Army doesn't want it to leak, but they need Dell, need -him badly. Anyone knowing bio-war developments would understand. They -wanted to send me before. Dell's invitation was the break we needed. -I may be the one with sufficient influence to bring him back. I hope -so. But keep it under your permanent and forget your guessing games. -There's more to it than you know." - -The car passed through a cool, wooded section and Louise leaned back -and drank in the beauty of it. - -"Hush-hush, top secret stuff," she said. "Grown men playing children's -games." - -"Pretty deadly games for children, darling." - - * * * * * - -In the late afternoon they by-passed the central part of Baltimore and -headed north beyond the suburb of Towson toward Dell's truck farm. - -His sign was visible for a half mile: - - YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT - Eat the Best - EAT DELL'S VEGETABLES - -"Dr. Hamon Dell, world's foremost biochemist--and truck farmer," Curt -muttered as he swung the car off the highway. - -Louise stepped out when the tires ceased crunching on the gravel lane. -She scanned the fields and old woods beyond the ancient but preserved -farmhouse. "It's so unearthly." - -Curt followed. The song of birds, which had been so noticeable before, -seemed strangely muted. The land itself was an alien, faintly greenish -hue, a color repulsive to more than just the eyes. - -"It must be something in this particular soil," said Curt, "something -that gives it that color and produces such wonderful crops. I'll have -to remember to ask Dell about it." - -"You want Dr. Dell?" - -They whirled at the sound of an unfamiliar voice. Louise uttered a -startled cry. - -The gaunt figure behind them coughed asthmatically and pointed with an -arm that seemed composed only of bones and brownish skin, so thin as to -be almost translucent. - -"Yes," said Curt shakenly. "We're friends of his." - -"Dell's in back. I'll tell him you're here." - -The figure shambled away and Louise shook herself as if to rid her mind -of the vision. "If our grandchildren ever ask about zombies, I can -tell them. Who in the world do you suppose he is?" - -"Hired man, I suppose. Sounds as if he should be in a lung sanitarium. -Funny that Dell would keep him around in that condition." - -From somewhere behind the house came the sound of a truck engine. Curt -took Louise's arm and led her around the trim, graveled path. - -The old farmhouse had been very carefully renovated. Everywhere was -evidence of exquisite care, yet the cumulative atmosphere remained -uninviting, almost oppressive. Curt told himself it was the utter -silence, made even more tense by the lonely chugging of the engine in -back, and the incredible harsh color of the soil beneath their feet. - - * * * * * - -Rounding the corner, they came in sight of a massive tank truck. From -it a hose led to an underground storage tank and pulsed slowly under -the force of the liquid gushing through it. No one was in sight. - -"What could that be for?" asked Louise. - -"You've got me. Could be gasoline, but Dell hasn't any reason for -storing that much here." - -They advanced slowly and amazement crept over Curt as he comprehended -the massiveness of the machine. The tank was of elliptical cross -section, over ten feet on its major axis. Six double wheels supported -the rear; even the front ones were double. In spite of such wide weight -distribution, the tires were pressing down the utterly dry ground to a -depth of an inch or more. - -"They must haul liquid lead in that thing," said Curt. - -"It's getting cool. I wish Dell would show up." Louise glanced out -over the twenty-acre expanse of truck farm. Thick rows of robust -plants covered the area. Tomatoes, carrots, beets, lettuce, and other -vegetables--a hundred or so fruit trees were at the far end. Between -them ran the road over which the massive truck had apparently entered -the farm from the rear. - -A heavy step sounded abruptly and Dell's shaggy head appeared from -around the end of the truck. His face lighted with pleasure. - -"Curt, my boy! And Louise! I thought you weren't going to show up at -all." - -Curt's hand was almost lost in Dell's enormous grip, but it wasn't -because of that that his grip was passive. It was his shocked reaction -to Dell's haggard appearance. The fierce eyes looked merely old and -tired now. The ageless, leathery hide of Dell's face seemed to have -collapsed before some overpowering decay, its bronze smoothness -shattered by deep lines that were like tool marks of pain. - -Curt spoke in a subdued voice. "It's hard to get away from Detrick. -Always one more experiment to try--" - -"--And the brass riding you as if they expected you to win another war -for them tomorrow afternoon," said Dell. "I remember." - -"We wondered about this truck," Louise commented brightly, trying to -change the subject. "We finally gave up on it." - -"Oh, that. It brings liquid fertilizer to pump into my irrigation -water, that's all. No mystery. Let's go on to the house. After you're -settled we can catch up on everything and I'll tell you about the -things I'm doing here." - -"Who's the man we saw?" asked Curt. "He looks as if his health is -pretty precarious." - -"That's Brown. He came with the place--farmed it for years for my uncle -before I inherited it. He could grow a garden on a granite slab. In -spite of appearances, he's well enough physically." - -"How has your own health been? You have--changed--since you were at -Detrick." - -Dell raised a lock of steel-gray hair in his fingers and dismissed the -question with a wan smile. "We all wear out sometime," he said. "My -turn had to come." - - * * * * * - -Inside, some of the oppressiveness vanished as the evening passed. It -was cool enough for lighting the fireplace, and they settled before it -after dinner. While they watched the flickering light that whipped the -beamed ceiling, Dell entertained them with stories of his neighbors, -whose histories he knew clear back to Revolutionary times. - -Early, however, Louise excused herself. She knew they would want -privacy to thresh out the purposes behind Dell's invitation--and Curt's -acceptance. - -When she was gone, there was a moment's silence. The logs crackled with -shocking pistol shots in the fireplace. The scientist moved to stir the -coals and then turned abruptly to Curt. - -"When are you going to leave Detrick?" - -"When are _you_ coming back?" Curt demanded instead of answering. - -"So they still want me, even after the things I said when I left." - -"You're needed badly. When I told Hansen I was coming down, he said it -would be worth five years of my own work to bring you back." - -"They want me to produce even deadlier toxins than those I gave them," -Dell said viciously. "They want some that can kill ten million people -in four minutes instead of only one million--" - -"Any man would go insane if he looked at it that way. It would be the -same as gun-makers being tormented by the vision of torn men destroyed -by their bullets, the sorrowing families--" - -"And why shouldn't the gun-makers be tormented?" Dell's voice was -low with controlled hate. "They are men like you and me who give the -_war_-makers new tools for their trade." - -"Oh, Dell, it's not as simple as that." Curt raised a hand and let it -fall wearily. They had been over this so many times before. "Weapon -designers are no more responsible than any other agents of society. -It's pure neurosis to absorb the whole guilt of wars yet unfought -merely because you happened to have developed a potential weapon." - -Dell touched the massive dome of his skull. "Here within this brain of -mine has been conceived a thing which will probably destroy a billion -human lives in the coming years. D. triconus toxin in a suitable -aerosol requires only a countable number of molecules in the lungs of -a man to kill him. My brain and mine alone is responsible for that -vicious, murderous discovery." - -"Egotism! Any scientist's work is built upon the pyramid of past -knowledge." - - * * * * * - -"The weapon I have described exists. If I had not created it, it would -not exist. It is as simple as that. No one shares my guilt and my -responsibility. And what more do they want of me now? What greater -dream of mass slaughter and destruction have they dreamed?" - -"They want you," said Curt quietly, "because they believe we are not -the only ones possessing the toxin. They need you to come back and help -find the antitoxin for D. triconus." - -Dell shook his head. "That's a blind hope. The action of D. triconus is -like a match set to a powder train. The instant its molecules contact -protoplasm, they start a chain reaction that rips apart the cell -structure. It spreads like fire from one cell to the next, and nothing -can stop it once it's started operating within a given organism." - -"But doesn't this sense of guilt--unwarranted as it is--make you _want_ -to find an antitoxin?" - -"Suppose I succeeded? I would have canceled the weapon of an enemy. -The military would know he could nullify ours in time. Then they would -command me to work out still another toxin. It's a vicious and insane -circle, which must be broken somewhere. The purpose of the entire -remainder of my life is to break it." - -"When you are fighting for your life and the enemy already has his -hands about your throat," Curt argued, "you reach for the biggest rock -you can get your hands on and beat his brains in. You don't try to -persuade him that killing is unethical." - -For an instant it seemed to Curt that a flicker of humor touched the -corners of Dell's mouth. Then the lines tightened down again. - -"Exactly," he said. "You reach for a rock and beat his brains in. You -don't wipe human life off the face of the Earth in order to reach that -enemy. I asked you to come down here to help me break this circle of -which I spoke. There has to be someone here--after I'm gone--" - -Dell's eyes shifted to the depths of shadows beyond the firelight and -remained fixed on unseen images. - -"Me? Help you?" Curt asked incredulously. "What could I do? Give up -science and become a truck gardener, too?" - -"You might say that we would be in the rock business," replied Dell. -"Fighting is no longer on the level of one man with his hands about -another's throat, but it _should_ be. Those who want power and -domination should have to fight for it personally. But it has been a -long time since they had to. - - * * * * * - -"Even in the old days, kings and emperors hired mercenaries to fight -their wars. The militarists don't buy swords now. They buy brains. -We're the mercenaries of the new day, Curt, you and I. Once there was -honor in our profession. We searched for truth for its own sake, and -because it was our way of life. Once we were the hope of the world -because science was a universal language. - -"What a horrible joke that turned out to be! Today we are the terror of -the world. The war-makers built us fine laboratories, shining palaces, -and granted every whim--for a price. They took us up to the hills and -showed us the whole world and we sold our souls for it. - -"Look what happened after the last war. Invading armies carried off -prize Nazi brains like so much loot, set the scientists up in big new -laboratories, and these new mercenaries keep right on pouring out -knowledge for other kings and emperors. - -"Their loyalty is only to their science. But they can't experiment for -knowledge any more, only weapons and counter-weapons. You'll say I'm -anti-war, even, perhaps, anti-American or pro-Russian. I am not against -just wars, but I am against unjust slaughter. And I love America too -much to let her destroy herself along with the enemy." - -"Then what are we to do?" Curt demanded fiercely. "What are we to do -while enemy scientists prepare these same weapons to exterminate _us_? -Sure, it's one hell of a mess. Science is already dead. The kind you -talk about has been dead for twenty years. All our fine ideals are -worthless until the politicians find a solution to their quarrels." - -"Politicians? Since when did men of science have to wait upon -politicians for solutions of human problems?" Dell passed a hand over -his brow, and suddenly his face contorted in pain. - -"What is it?" Curt exclaimed, rising. - -"Nothing--nothing, my boy. Some minor trouble I've had lately. It will -pass in a moment." - -With effort, he went on. "I wanted to say that already you have come -to think of science being divided into armed camps by the artificial -boundaries of the politicians. Has it been so long ago that it was -not even in your lifetime, when scientists regarded themselves as one -international brotherhood?" - -"I can't quarrel with your ideals," said Curt softly. "But national -boundary lines do, actually, divide the scientists of the world into -armed camps." - - * * * * * - -"Your premises are still incorrect. They do not deliberately war on -each other. It is only that they have blindly sold themselves as -mercenaries. And they can be called upon to redeem themselves. They can -break their unholy contracts." - -"There would have to be simultaneous agreement among the scientists of -all nations. And they are men, influenced by national ideals. They are -not merely ivory-tower dabblers and searchers after truth." - -"Do you remember me five years ago?" Dell's face became more haggard, -as if the memory shamed him. "Do you remember when I told the atomic -scientists to examine their guts instead of their consciences?" - -"Yes. You certainly _have_ changed." - -"And so can other men. There is a way. I need your help desperately, -Curt--" - -The face of the aging biochemist contorted again with unbearable pain. -His forehead beaded with sweat as he clenched his skull between his -vein-knotted hands. - -"Dell! What is it?" - -"It will pass," Dr. Dell breathed through clenched teeth. "I have some -medicine--in my bedroom. I'm afraid I'll have to excuse myself tonight. -There's so much more I have to say to you, but we'll continue our talk -in the morning, Curt. I'm sorry--" - -He stumbled out, refusing Curt's offer of aid with a grim headshake. -The fire crackled loudly within the otherwise silent room. Curt -felt cold at the descending chill of the night, his mind bewildered -at Dell's barrage, some of it so reasonable, some of it so utterly -confused. And there was no clue to the identity of the powerful force -that had made so great a change in the once militant scientist. - -Slowly Curt mounted the staircase of the old house and went to the room -Dell had assigned them. Louise was in bed reading a murder mystery. - -"Secret mission completed?" she asked. - -Curt sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm afraid something terrible -is wrong with Dell. Besides the neurotic guilt complex because of his -war work, he showed signs of a terrific and apparently habitual pain in -his head. If that should be brain tumor, it might explain his erratic -notions, his abandonment of his career." - -"Oh, I hope it's not that!" - - * * * * * - -It seemed to Curt that he had slept only minutes before he was roused -by sounds in the night. He rolled over and switched on the light. His -watch said two o'clock. Louise raised up in sharp alarm. - -"What is it?" she whispered. - -"I thought I heard something. There it is again!" - -"It sounds like someone in pain. It must be Dell!" - -Curt leaped from the bed and wrestled into his bathrobe. As he hurried -toward Dell's room, there was another deep groan that ended in a -shuddering sob of unbearable agony. - -He burst into the scientist's room and switched on the light. Dell -looked up, eyes glazed with pain. - -"Dr. Dell!" - -"Curt--I thought I had time left, but this is as far as I can go--Just -remember all I said tonight. Don't forget a word of it." He sat up -rigidly, hardly breathing in the effort of control. "The responsibility -for the coming destruction of civilization lies at the doors of the -scientist mercenaries. Don't allow it, Curt. Get them to abandon the -laboratories of the warriors. Get them to reclaim their honor--" - -He fell back upon the pillow, his face white with pain and shining with -sweat. "Brown--see Brown. He can tell you the--the rest." - -"I'll go for a doctor," said Curt. "Who have you had? Louise will stay -with you." - -"Don't bring a doctor. There's no escaping this. I've known it for -months. Wait here with me, Curt. I'll be gone soon." - -Curt stared with pity at the great scientist whose mind had so -disintegrated. "You need a doctor. I'll call a hospital, Johns Hopkins, -if you want." - -"Wait, maybe you're right. I have no phone here. Get Dr. Wilson--the -Judge Building, Towson--find his home address in a phone book." - -"Fine. I'll only be a little while." - -He stepped to the door. - -"Curt! Take the lane down to the new road--behind the farm. Quicker--it -cuts off a mile or so--go down through the orchard--" - -"All right. Take it easy now. I'll be right back." - -Curt frantically got dressed, ran down the stairs and out to the car. -He wondered absently what had become of the cadaverous Brown, who -seemed to have vanished from the premises. - - * * * * * - -The wheels spun gravel as he started the car and whipped it out of -the driveway. Then he was on the stretch of lane leading through the -grove. The moonless night was utterly dark, and the stream of light -ahead of the car seemed the only living thing upon the whole landscape. -He almost wished he had taken the more familiar road. To get lost now -might mean death for Dell. - -No traffic flowed past him in either direction. There were no buildings -showing lights. Overwhelming desolation seemed to possess the -countryside and seep into his soul. It seemed impossible that this lay -close to the other highway with which he was familiar. - -He strained his eyes into the darkness for signs of an all-night gas -station or store from which he could phone. Finally, he resigned -himself to going all the way to Towson. At that moment he glimpsed a -spark of light far ahead. - -Encouraged, Curt stepped on the gas. In less than ten minutes he was at -the spot. He braked the car to a stop, and surveyed the building as he -got out. It seemed more like a power substation than anything else. But -there should be a telephone, at least. - -He knocked on the door. Almost instantly, footsteps sounded within. - -The door swung wide. - -"I wonder if I could use your--" Curt began. He gasped. "Brown! Dell's -dying--we've got to get a doctor for him--" - -As if unable to comprehend, the hired man stared dumbly for a long -moment. His hollow-cheeked face was almost skeletal in the light that -flooded out from behind him. - -Then from somewhere within the building came a voice, sharp with -tension. "Brown! What the devil are you doing? Shut that door!" - -That brought the figure to life. He whipped out a gun and motioned Curt -inward. "Step inside. We'll have to decide what to do with you when -Carlson finds you're here." - -"What's the matter with you?" Curt asked, stupefied. "Dell's dying. He -needs help." - -"Get in here!" - -Curt moved slowly forward. Brown closed the door behind him and -motioned toward a closed door at the other end of a short hall. They -opened it and stepped into a dimly lighted room. - -Curt's eyes slowly adjusted and he saw what seemed to be a laboratory. -It was so packed with equipment that there was scarcely room for the -group of twelve or fifteen men jammed closely about some object with -their backs to Curt and Brown. - -Brown shambled forward like an agitated skeleton, breaking the circle. -Then Curt saw that the object of the men's attention was a large -cathode ray screen occupied by a single green line. There was a pip on -it rising sharply near one side of the two-foot tube. The pip moved -almost imperceptibly toward a vertical red marker over the face of the -screen. The men stared as if hypnotized by it. - - * * * * * - -The newcomers' arrival, however, disturbed their attention. One man -turned with an irritable growl. "Brown, for heaven's sake--" - -He was a bony creature, even more cadaverous than Brown. He caught -sight of Curt's almost indecently robust face. He gasped and swore. - -"Who is this? What's he doing here?" - -The entire montage of skull faces turned upon Curt. He heard a sharp -collective intake of breath, as if his presence were some unforeseen -calamity that had shaken the course of their incomprehensible lives. - -"This is Curtis Johnson," said Brown. "He got lost looking for a doctor -for Dell." - -A mummylike figure rose from a seat before the instrument. "Your coming -is tremendously unfortunate, but for the moment we can do nothing about -it. Sit here beside me. My name is Tarron Sark." - -The man indicated a chair. - -"My friend, Dr. Dell, is dying," Curt snapped out, refusing to sit -down. "I've got to get help. I saw your light and hoped you'd allow me -to use your phone. I don't know who you are nor what Dell's hired man -is doing here with you. But you've got to let me go for help!" - -"No." The man, Sark, shook his head. "Dell is reconciled. He has to go. -We are awaiting precisely the event you would halt--his death." - -He had known it, Curt thought, from the moment he entered that room. -Like vultures sitting on cliffs waiting for the death of their prey, -these fantastic men let their glance slip back to the screen. The green -line was a third of the way toward the red marker now, and moving more -rapidly. - -It was nightmare--meaningless-- - -"I'm not staying," Curt insisted. "You can't prevent me from helping -Dell without assuming responsibility for his death. I demand you let me -call." - -"You're not going to call," said Sark wearily. "And we assumed -responsibility for Dell's death long ago. Sit down!" - -Slowly Curt sank down upon the chair beside the stranger. There was -nothing else to do. He was powerless against Brown's gun. But he'd -bring them to justice somehow, he swore. - -He didn't understand the meaning of the slowly moving pattern on the -'scope face, yet, as his eyes followed that pip, he sensed tension in -the watching men that seemed sinister, almost murderous. How? - -What did the inexorably advancing pip signify? - - * * * * * - -No one spoke. The room was stifling hot and the breathing of the circle -of men was a dull, rattling sound in Curt's ears. - -Quickly then, gathering sudden momentum, the pip accelerated. The -circle of men grew taut. - -The pip crossed the red line--and vanished. - -Only the smooth green trace remained, motionless and without meaning. - -With hesitant shuffling of feet, the circle expanded. The men glanced -uncertainly at one another. - -One said, "Well, that's the end of Dell. We'll soon know now if we're -on the right track, or if we've botched it. Carlson will call when he's -computed it." - -"The end of Dell?" Curt repeated slowly, as if trying to convince -himself of what he knew had happened. "The pip on the screen--that -showed his life leaving him?" - -"Yes," said Sark. "He knew he had to go. And there are perhaps hundreds -more like him. But Dell couldn't have told you of that--" - -"What will we do with him?" Brown asked abruptly. - -"If Dell is dead, you murdered him!" Curt shouted. - -A rising personal fear grew within him. They could not release him now, -even though his story would make no sense to anybody. But they had -somehow killed Dell, or thought they had, and they wouldn't hesitate -to kill Curt. He thought of Louise in the great house with the corpse -of Haman Dell--if, of course, he was actually dead. But that was -nonsense.... - -"Dell must have sent you to us!" Sark said, as if a great mystery had -suddenly been lifted from his mind. "He did not have time to tell you -everything. Did he tell you to take the road behind the farm?" - -Curt nodded bitterly. "He told me it was the quickest way to get to a -doctor." - -"He did? Then he knew even better than we did how rapidly he was -slipping. Yes, this was the quickest way." - -"What are you talking about?" Curt demanded. - -"Did Dell say anything at all about what he wanted of you?" - -"It was all wild. Something about helping with some crazy plans to -retreat from the scientific world. He was going to finish talking in -the morning, but I guess it wouldn't have mattered. I realize now that -he was sick and irrational." - -"Too sick to explain everything, but not irrational," Sark said -thoughtfully. "He left it to us to tell you, since you are to succeed -him." - -"Succeed Dell? In what?" - - * * * * * - -Sark suddenly flipped a switch on a panel at his right. A screen -lighted with some fuzzy image. It cleared with a slight dial -adjustment, and Curt seemed to be looking at some oddly familiar -moonlit ruin. - -"An American city," said Sark, hurrying his words now. "Any city. They -are all alike. Ruin. Death. This one died thirty years ago." - -"I don't understand," Curt complained, bewildered. "Thirty years--" - -"At another point in the Time Continuum," said Sark. "The future. Your -future, you understand. Or, rather, _our_ present, the one you created -for us." - -Curt recoiled at the sudden venom in Sark's voice. "The _future_?" That -was what they had in common with Dell--psychosis, systematic delusions. -He had suspected danger before; now it was imminent and terrifying. - -"Perhaps you are one of those who regard your accomplishments with -pride," Sark went on savagely, ignoring or unaware of Curt's fear and -horror. "That the hydrogen bombs smashed the cities, and the aerosols -destroyed the remnants of humanity seems insignificant to you beside -the high technical achievement these things represent." - -Curt's throat was dry with panic. Irrelevantly, he recalled the -pain-fired eyes of Dell and the dying scientist's words: "The -responsibility for the coming destruction of civilization lies at the -doors of the scientist mercenaries--" - -"Some of us _did_ manage to survive," said Sark, glaring at the scene -of gaunt rubble. Curt could see the veins pounding beneath the thin -flesh of his forehead. "We lived for twenty years with the dream of -rebuilding a world, the same dream that has followed all wars. But at -last we knew that the dream was truly vain this time. We survivors -lived in hermetically sealed caverns, trying to exist and recover our -lost science and technology. - -"We could not emerge into the Earth's atmosphere. Its pollution with -virulent aerosols would persist for another hundred years. We could -not bear a new race out of these famished and rickety bodies of ours. -Unless Man was to vanish completely from the face of the Earth, we had -only a single hope. That hope was to prevent the destruction from ever -occurring!" - -Sark's eyes were burning now. "Do you understand what that means? We -had to go _back_, not forward. We had to arm to fight a new war, a war -to prevent the final war that destroyed Mankind." - -"Back? How could you go back?" Curt hesitated, grasping now the full -insanity of the scene about him. "How have you _come_ back?" He waited -tautly for the answer. It would be gibberish, of course, like all the -mad conversation before it. - - * * * * * - -"The undisturbed flow of time from the beginning to the end--neither of -which we can experience--we call the Prime Continuum," Sark replied. -"Mathematically speaking, it is composed of billions of separate bands -of probability running side by side. For analogy, you may liken it to a -great river, whose many insignificant tributaries merge into a roaring, -turbulent whole. That is the flow of time, the Prime Continuum. - -"You may change one of these tributaries, dam it up, turn it aside, -let it reach the main stream at a different point. No matter how -insignificant the tributary, the stream will not be the same after -the change. That is what we are doing. We are controlling critical -tributaries of the Prime Continuum, altering the hell that you -scientists have so generously handed down to us. - -"Dell was a critical tributary. You, Dr. Curtis Johnson, are another. -Changing or destroying such key individuals snips off branches of -knowledge before they come into fruit." - -It was an ungraspable answer, but it had to be argued against because -of its conclusion. "The scientists are not bringing about the war," -Curt said, looking from one fleshless face to another. "Find the -politicians responsible, those willing to turn loose any horror to gain -power. _They_ are the ones you want." - -"That would mean destroying half the human race. In your day, nearly -every man is literally a politician." - -"Talk sense!" Curt said angrily. - -"A politician, as we have come to define him, is simply one willing to -sacrifice the common good for his own ends. It is a highly infectious -disease in a day when altruism is taken for cowardice or mere -stupidity. No, we have not mistaken our goal, Dr. Johnson. We cannot -hasten the maturity of the race. We can only hope to take the matches -away so the children cannot burn the house down. Whatever you doubt, do -not doubt that we are from the future or that we caused Dell's death. -He is only one of many." - -Curt slumped. "I did doubt it. I still do, yet not with conviction. -Why?" - -"Because your own sense of guilt tells you that you and Dell and others -like you are literally the matches which we have to remove. Because -your knowledge of science has overcome your desire not to believe. -Because you _know_ the shape of the future." - -"The war after the Third World War--" Curt murmured. "Someone said it -would be fought with stones and spears, but your weapons are far from -stones and spears." - -"Perhaps not so far at that," said Sark, his face twisting wryly. He -reached to a nearby table and picked up a tomato and a carrot. "These -are our weapons. As humble and primitive as the stones and spears of -cavemen." - - * * * * * - -"You're joking," Curt replied, almost ready to grin. - -"No. This is the ultimate development of biological warfare. Man is -what he eats--" - -"That's what Dell's sign said." - -"We operate hundreds of gardens and farms such as Dell's. We work -through the fertilizing compounds we supply to these farms. These -compounds contain chemicals that eventually lodge in the cells of those -who eat the produce. They take up stations within the brain cells and -change the man--or destroy him. - -"Certain cells of the brain are responsible for specific -characteristics. Ways of altering these cells were found by introducing -minute quantities of specific radioactive materials which could be -incorporated into vegetable foods. During the Third War wholesale -insanity was produced in entire populations by similar methods. Here, -we are using it to accomplish humane purposes. - -"We are simply restraining the scientists responsible for the -destroying weapons that produced our nightmare world. You saw the -change that took place in Dell. There is a good example of what we do." - -"But he _did_ change," Curt pointed out. "He _was_ carrying out your -work. Wasn't that enough for you? Why did you decide he had to die?" - -"Ordinarily, we don't want to kill if the change is produced. Sometimes -the brain cells are refractory and the characteristics too ingrained. -The cells develop tumorous activity as a result of the treatment. So -it was with Dell. In his case, however, we would have been forced to -kill him by other means if he had not died as he did. This, too, he -understood very well. That was why he really wanted no doctor to help -him." - -"You must have driven him insane first!" - -"Look at this and see if you still think so." Sark led the way to a -small instrument and pointed to the eyepiece of it. "Look in there." - -Curt bent over. Light sprang up at Sark's touch of a switch. Then a -scene began to move before Curt's eyes. - -"Dell!" he exclaimed. - -The scene was of some vast and well-equipped biological laboratory, -much like those of Camp Detrick. Silent, mask-faced technicians moved -with precision about their tasks. Dr. Dell was directing operations. - -But there was something wrong. The figure was not the Dell that Curt -knew. - -As if Sark sensed Curt's comprehension of this, the scene advanced and -swelled until the whole area of vision was filled with Dell's face. -Curt gasped. The face was blank and hideous. The eyes stared. When -the scene retreated once more, Curt saw now that Dell moved as an -automaton, almost without volition of his own. - - * * * * * - -As he moved away from the bench like a sleepwalker, there came briefly -into view the figure of an armed guard at the door. The figure of a -corporal, grim in battle dress. - -Curt looked up, sick as if some inner sense had divined the meaning of -that scene which he could not yet put into words. - -"Had enough?" asked Sark. - -"What does it mean?" - -"That is Dell as he would have been. That is what he was willing to die -to avoid." - -"But what _is_ it?" - -"A military research laboratory twelve years into your future. You -are aware that in your own time a good deal of research has come -to a standstill because many first-string scientists have revolted -against military domination. Unfortunately, there are plenty of -second-stringers available and they are enough for most tasks--the -youngsters with new Ph.D.s who are awed by the glitter of golden -laboratories. But, lacking experience or imagination, they can't see -through the glitter or have the insight for great work. Some will -eventually, too late, however, and they will be replaced by eager new -youngsters." - -"This scene of Dell--" - -"Just twelve years from what you call now. Deadlier weapons will be -needed and so a bill will be passed to draft the reluctant first-line -men--against their will, if necessary." - -"You can't force creative work," Curt objected. - -Sark shrugged. "There are drugs that do wonderful and terrible things -to men's minds. They can force creation or mindless destruction, -confession or outrageous subterfuge. You saw your opponents make some -use of them. A cardinal, for example, and an engineer, among others. -Now you have seen your friend, Dell, as he would have been. Not the -same drugs, of course, but the end result is the same." - -Curt's horror turned to stubborn disbelief. "America wouldn't use such -methods," he said flatly. - -"Today? No," agreed Sark. "But when a country is committed to -inhuman warfare--even though the goal may be honorable--where is -the line to stop at? Each brutality prepares the way for the next. -Even concentration camps and extermination centers become logical -necessities. You have heard your opponents say that the end justifies -the means. You have seen for yourself--the means become the end." - -"But Dell could have escaped," Curt protested. "You could have helped -him to your own time or another. He was still valuable. He needn't have -died!" - -"There is no such thing as actual travel in time," explained Sark. -"Or at least in our day we have found none. There is possible only a -bending back of a branch of the Prime Continuum so that we can witness, -warn, instruct, gain aid in saving the future. And there can be meeting -only in this narrow sector of unreality where the branch joins the -main stream. Our farms adjoin such sectors, but farther than that we -cannot go, nor can one of you become a citizen of the world you have -created for us. - -"But I wish it were so!" Sark bit out venomously. "We'd kidnap you -by the millions, force you to look upon the ruin and the horror, let -you breathe the atmosphere that no man can inhale and live, the only -atmosphere there is in that world. Yes, I wish you could become our -guests there. Our problem would be easier. But it can't be done. This -is the only way we can work. - -"Dell had to go. There was no escape for him, no safety for us if he -lived. He would have been tracked down, captured like a beast and set -to work against his will. It was there in the Prime Continuum. Nothing -could cancel it except death, the death that saves a billion lives -because he will not produce a toxin deadlier than D. triconus." - - * * * * * - -The vengeance in Sark's voice was almost tangible. Involuntarily Curt -retreated a step before it. And--almost--he thought he understood these -men out of time. - -"What is there--" he began hoarsely and had to stop. "What is there -that I can do?" - -"We need you to take over Dell's farm. It is of key importance. The -list of men he was treating was an extremely vital one. That work -cannot be interrupted now." - -"How can you accomplish anything by operating only here?" Curt -objected. "While you stifle our defenses, our enemies are arming to the -teeth. When you've made us sufficiently helpless, they'll strike." - -"Did I say we were so restricted?" answered Sark, smiling for the first -time. "You cannot imagine what a fresh vegetable means on a professor's -table in Moscow. In Atomgrad a ripe tomato is worth a pound of uranium. -How do I know? Because I walked the streets of Atomgrad with my -grandfather." - -"Then you're a--" - -Sark's face grew hard and bitter in the half light of the room. "Was," -he corrected. "Or might have been. There are no nationalities where -there are no nations, no political parties where there are only hunger -and death. The crime of the future is not any person's or country's. It -is the whole of humanity's." - -An alarm sounded abruptly. - -"Carlson!" someone tensely exclaimed. - -Sark whirled to the panels and adjusted the controls. A small screen -lighted, showing the image of a man with graying hair and imperious -face. His sharp eyes seemed to burn directly into Curt's. - -"How did it go?" exclaimed Sark. "Was the Prime Continuum shift as -expected?" - -"No! It still doesn't compute out. Nothing's right. The war is still -going on. The Continuum is absolute hell." - -"I should have known," said Sark in dismay. "I should have called you." - -"What is it? Do you know what's wrong?" - -"Johnson. Dr. Curtis Johnson. He's here." - - * * * * * - -Rage spread upon Carlson's face. An oath exploded from his lips. -"No wonder the situation doesn't compute with him out of the Prime -Continuum. Why did he come there?" - -"Dell sent him. Dell died too quickly. He didn't have time to instruct -Johnson. I have told him what we want of him." - -"Do you understand?" Carlson demanded of Curt with abruptness that was -almost anger. - -Curt looked slowly about the room and back to the face of his -questioner. Understand? If they sent him back, allowed him to go back, -could he ever be sure that he had not witnessed a thing of nightmare in -this shadowy dream world? - -Yes, he could be sure. He had seen the blasted city, just the way he -knew it could be--_would_ be unless someone prevented it. He had seen -the pattern on the scope, attuned to the tiny tributary of the Prime -Continuum that was the life of Dr. Dell, had seen it run out, dying as -Dell had died. - -He could believe, too, that there was a little farm near Atomgrad, -where a tomato on a scientist's table was more potent than the bombs -building in the arsenal. - -"I understand," he said. "Shall I go back now?" - -Sark put a paper into his hands. "Here is a list of new names. You will -find Dell's procedures and records in his desk at the farm. Do not -underestimate the importance of your work. You have seen the failure of -the Prime Continuum to compute properly with you out of it. You will -correct that. - -"Your only contact from now on will be through Brown, who will bring -the tank truck once a year. You know what to do. You are on your own." - -It was like a surrealist painting as he left. The moon had risen, and -in all the barrenness there was nothing but the gray cement cube of -the building. The light spilling through the open doorway touched the -half dozen gaunt men who had followed him out to the car. Ahead was the -narrow band of roadway leading through some infinite nothingness that -would end in Dell's truck farm. - - * * * * * - -He started off. When he looked back a moment later, the building was no -longer there. - -He glanced at the list of names Sark gave him, chilled by the -importance of those men. For some there would be death as there had -been for Dell. For himself-- - -He had forgotten to ask. But perhaps they would not have told him. Not -at this time, anyway. The chemically treated food produced tumors in -refractory, unresponsive cells. He had eaten Dell's vegetables, would -eat more. - -It was too late to ask and it didn't matter. He had important things to -do. First would be the writing of his resignation to the officials of -Camp Detrick. - -As of tomorrow, he would be Dr. Curtis Johnson, truck farmer, -specialist in atomic-age produce, luscious table gifts for the innocent -and not-so-innocent human matches that would, if he and his unknown -colleagues succeeded, be prevented from cremating the hopes of Mankind. - -Louise would help him hang the new sign: - - YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT - Eat the Best - EAT JOHNSON'S - VEGETABLES - -Only, of course, she wouldn't know why he had taken Dell's job, nor -could he ever explain. - -It would probably be the death of Curt Johnson, but that was cheap -enough if humanity survived. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Stone and a Spear, by Raymond F. 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