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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58682 ***
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+                           Infinity's Child
+
+                          By Charles V. DeVet
+
+
+_"You must kill Koski," the leader said. "But I'll be dead before I
+get there," Buckmaster replied. "What's that got to do with it?" the
+leader wanted to know._
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science
+Fiction, May 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
+the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The sense of taste was always first to go. For a week Buckmaster had
+ignored the fact that everything he ate tasted like flavorless gruel.
+He tried to make himself believe that it was some minor disorder of
+his glandular system. But the eighth day his second sense--that of
+feeling--left him and he staggered to his telephone in blind panic.
+There was no doubt now but that he had the dread Plague. He was glad
+he had taken the precaution of isolating himself from his family. He
+knew there was no hope for him now.
+
+They sent the black wagon for him.
+
+In the hospital he found himself herded with several hundred others
+into a ward designed to hold less than a hundred. The beds were crowded
+together and he could have reached to either side of him and touched
+another ravaged victim of the Plague.
+
+Next to go would be his sense of sight. Hope was a dead thing within
+him. Even to think of hoping made him realize how futile it would be.
+
+He screamed when the walls of darkness began to close in around him. It
+was the middle of the afternoon and a shaft of sunlight fell across the
+grimy blankets on his bed. The sunlight paled, then darkened and was
+gone. He screamed again. And again.
+
+He heard them move him to the death ward then, but he could not even
+feel their hands upon him.
+
+Three days later his tongue refused to form words. He fought a nameless
+terror as he strove with all the power of his will to speak. If he
+could say only one word, he felt, the encroaching disease would have to
+retreat and he would be safe. But the one word would not come.
+
+Four horrible days later the sounds around him--the screams and the
+muttering--became fainter, and he faced the beginning of the end.
+
+At last it was all over. He knew he was still alive because he thought.
+But that was all. He could not see, hear, speak, feel, or taste.
+Nothing was left except thought; stark, terrible, useless thought!
+
+Strangely the awful horror faded then and his mind experienced a
+grateful release. At first he suspected the outlet of his emotions had
+somehow become atrophied as had his senses, and that he was peaceful
+only because his real feelings could not break through the numbness.
+
+However, some subtle compulsion within him--some power struggling in
+its birth-throes--was beginning to breed its own energy and he sensed
+that it was the strength of that compulsion that had subdued the terror.
+
+He was at peace now, as he had never been at peace before. For a
+time, he did not question--was entirely content to lie there and
+savor the wonderful feeling. He had lost even the definition of fear.
+No terror now from the slow closing of the five doors; no regrets;
+no forebodings. Only a vast happiness as he seemingly viewed life,
+suffering, and death as a man standing on a cliff looking out over a
+great misty valley.
+
+But soon came wonder and analysis. He looked backward and thought:
+_It was a world, but not my world. These are memories but not my
+memories. I lived them and knew them--yet none of them belongs to me.
+Strange--this soul-fiber with which I think--the last function left to
+me--is not a soul-fiber I have ever known before._
+
+And he knew.
+
+_I have never existed before this moment._
+
+He could not prove it nor explain it there in the dark house of his
+thinking. But he knew it was true.
+
+He wondered if he had taken over the body and mind--complete with all
+the mental trappings--of some other being. Or whether he had been just
+now conceived, full-blown and with memories of a synthetic past perhaps
+implanted also in the minds of those with whom he was supposed to have
+come in contact. He did not know. He was only sure that, before this
+moment, he had not been.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+With the realization came the certainty that he would not die. The
+force he felt within him--he was not certain whether it was a part of
+himself, or the evidence of an outside control--was too powerful.
+
+The inner spontaneity gathered strength until it became a striving,
+persistent vital force, a will of imperious purpose. It moved him and
+he moved his tongue and spoke. "I will not die!" he shouted.
+
+Some time later he grew aware that his sense of hearing had returned.
+He heard a voice say, "He was in the last stages about an hour ago,
+before he spoke. I thought I'd better call you."
+
+"You did right," a second voice answered. "What's his name?"
+
+"Clifford Buckmaster."
+
+They're talking about me, he thought. Like a burst of glory, sight
+returned. He looked up and saw two men standing beside his bed. The
+older man wore a plain black suit. The younger was dressed in the white
+uniform of a doctor.
+
+"He can see now," the older man said. His was a voice Buckmaster
+disliked.
+
+"It looks as if he's going to recover," the doctor said. "That's never
+happened before. Do you want me to leave him here with the dying ones?"
+
+"No. Wheel him into your office. And leave us alone there. My name is
+James Wagner. You have, of course, heard of me. I am the Director of
+Security."
+
+Buckmaster still rested in his hospital bed. They had screwed up the
+back until he sat almost straight. In his mouth there was a slight tang
+and knew the sense of taste returned. When he was able to feel again he
+would be entirely well. Yes, he'd heard of Wagner before. He nodded.
+
+"And I know who you are," Wagner said. "You are one of the Underground
+that is trying to overthrow the General. That is correct, is it not?"
+
+Almost with surprise Buckmaster felt Wagner's words register in his
+mind. His implanted memories were still strange to him. But he recalled
+them quickly.
+
+Twenty years before, in 1979, the great Atomic War had ended. In the
+beginning the two giants faced each other across the separating oceans.
+No one was certain who sent the first bomb across in its controlled
+rocket; each side blamed the other.
+
+The methods of each were terrible in their efficiency. The great
+manufacturing cities were the first to go. After them went the vital
+transportation centers.
+
+Striving mightily for an early advantage each country forced landing
+armies on the enemy's shores. The armies invaded with their hundreds of
+thousands of men--and the bombings continued.
+
+The colossus of the western hemisphere had set up autonomous launching
+stations, so that if and when their major cities had all been bombed,
+their ruling bodies decimated and scattered--even if there were no
+longer any vestiges of a central authority--the launchings would
+continue.
+
+The autonomous units had been a stroke of master planning, so ingenious
+that it was logical the giant of Eurasia had devised a similar plan.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+By the time the bombs had all been used, or their stations rendered
+incapable of functioning, the major cities were blackened, gutted,
+inoperative masses of destruction. Soon the invading armies no longer
+received orders, or supplies of rations and arms. When this happened
+they knew governments they represented had ceased to exist. They were
+forced to live by the ingenuity of their commanders and their ability
+to forage. They could not even capitulate; there was no one to whom
+they could surrender.
+
+Those armies with weak commanders fell apart and one by one their men
+died at the hands of hostile natives, or hunger.
+
+The armies under strong commanders, like General Andrei Koski, of the
+Eurasian command, carved themselves a place in their new environment.
+
+Koski had landed with a force of seventy thousand on the east coast of
+old Mexico. His army was different from the other invaders only in a
+secret weapon which they brought with them. The weapon's appearance was
+simple but it carried the potentiality of destruction for a world.
+
+Acting under previous orders from his government, Koski began moving
+northward, and was soon cutting a swath a hundred miles wide up the
+west bank of the Mississippi. By the time he reached the southern
+border of Minnesota he realized from what he saw on all sides, that for
+all practical purposes the war was over. His only choice now was to
+find a means of survival for himself and his men.
+
+When Koski reached Duluth he circled the city. Almost miraculously
+it had escaped the bombs. Its population was only a little over two
+hundred thousand, and Koski still retained nearly fifty thousand
+hardened fighting men.
+
+However, Duluth, Koski found, was governed by Earl Olson, an
+ex-brigadier and a man equally as strong as himself. The city was
+fortified, and garrisoned by a force of well trained civilians who
+would fight to their death to defend their city and families. And they
+were well led by Olson.
+
+Koski knew he could capture the city if he decided to, but the price
+would be too dear. He moved on along the lakeshore and took over the
+city of Superior. Here he entrenched himself solidly and set up an
+efficient military government.
+
+By law every woman in the city still capable of bearing children was
+forced to take two husbands, at least one of which must be a Ruskie, as
+the invaders were called by the natives. In this way Koski insured a
+plentiful supply of children, most of whom would be loyal to him.
+
+A bonus of ten thousand dollars was offered to any woman from the
+outlying districts who would move to Superior and take two of its
+citizens in marriage. After the first hesitation, the girls and young
+women and widows flocked in from their barren farms and hamlets.
+
+By the end of twenty years the city had grown to near one hundred fifty
+thousand.
+
+Duluth in the meantime grew to three hundred thousand. Earl Olson ruled
+absolutely, but wisely and well. Between the two cities an alert truce
+held through the years and mutually advantageous trade flourished.
+
+Koski, in his city, held all authority in his own tight grip,
+administered by his former officers and backed by the undeviating
+loyalty of his soldiers. His rule was stern and when necessary, bloody.
+It might have been bloodier except for the threat of intervention by
+Olson.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There are always men who fret under the hand of tyranny and the
+Underground had gradually risen until it grew into a powerful
+organization. Its demands were for a representative government chosen
+by vote of the people. This, of course, Koski refused. As a consequence
+the Underground formed an active resistance, with the avowed purpose
+of killing Koski. A retaliatory blood bath was prevented only by
+the threat of intervention by Olson, who had many friends in the
+Underground, especially his brother-in-law, Lester Oliver.
+
+But right now none of this seemed very important to Buckmaster. Not
+important enough for him to bother answering.
+
+"Answer when you're spoken to!" Wagner roared.
+
+For a moment Buckmaster deliberated not replying. Just how unusual
+was the difference he had discovered in himself? Could he be hurt by
+someone like Wagner? He decided to wait until later to put it to the
+test.
+
+"What do you want me to say?" he asked.
+
+"I'm going to lay my cards on the table," Wagner said. "I want you to
+come over to our side."
+
+Still not very interested, Buckmaster asked, "Why should I?"
+
+"I think I can give you some very good reasons. In fact, unless you're
+a bigger fool than I think you are, I can convince you that it is the
+only wise thing to do. Because of your relatively smaller numbers, the
+Plague has caused havoc in your Underground."
+
+"Yes," Buckmaster answered. "But we will have a vaccine before long."
+He knew this was purely bluff.
+
+"Possibly." Wagner pulled his cheeks up but his eyes remained chilled
+and cold. He had the trick of smiling mirthlessly. "But even if I
+were to grant you that, we estimate that already nearly half of your
+organization is dead from the Plague. There will be more before you can
+do anything. The rest we can hunt down at our leisure. So you see, even
+if we let you live, you'd soon be a man without a party."
+
+"We could start all over again if we had to." The first signs of
+feeling came back with a twinge of pain at the tip of the little finger
+on his left hand.
+
+"I doubt it very much."
+
+"What would I be expected to do?" Buckmaster asked.
+
+"Simply this. Go back among your former comrades and act normal. But
+let me know what they're planning. In time we'd get them anyway, but
+with your help, the job will be easier--cleaner, let us say."
+
+"In other words, you want me to act as the Judas ram?"
+
+"Call it what you like," Wagner's eyes narrowed. "Just remember that
+you've nothing to lose."
+
+"And after?"
+
+"You can name your own price. Within reason, of course."
+
+"And if I refuse?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Wagner laughed. It wasn't necessary for him to answer. Buckmaster had
+seen the results of Wagner's sadism in the past. Whatever else might be
+mystifying to him he knew one thing: The instinct of self-preservation
+was still as strong as ever. He did not want to take the chance that
+the extraneous will he felt within him would be strong enough to combat
+what Wagner would try to do to him.
+
+"Let's say I agree," he said. "What comes next?"
+
+"Can you move your limbs yet?" Wagner asked.
+
+Buckmaster flexed his fingers and lifted his arms. "I believe I'm
+strong enough to walk," he said.
+
+"By the way," Wagner inquired, "have you any idea why you didn't die?"
+
+Buckmaster shook his head.
+
+"Well, no matter. Lie back and relax. Now look into my eyes.
+Concentrate on the right one."
+
+Buckmaster knew what was coming now. Mind contact!
+
+Subtly he felt the first tentative probe of Wagner's thought antenna.
+One part of his brain accepted it passively, but another part used the
+probe as a bridge.
+
+Wagner's thoughts seemed unguarded. Buckmaster easily read everything
+there. He had to hide his surprise at what he learned. Things that
+Wagner, by no process of logic would ever reveal to him. Reflections
+concerning the Plague. Remembrances of snatches of conversation with
+the General. Wagner's relations with women. Sex occupied many of his
+thoughts. The fear of Olson was there, in spite of Wagner's brave words
+earlier.
+
+Then Buckmaster read about himself in Wagner's mind and was certain
+something was wrong here. He saw that Wagner had no intention of ever
+letting him live, no matter how useful he might be. There was death for
+himself as soon as that usefulness was over.
+
+"Damn it," Wagner cursed, "relax. Let your mind open up to me. Are you
+deliberately trying to get yourself back in trouble by being stubborn?"
+
+Then he knew. The contact had been one-way. He had read Wagner's mind
+because Wagner had not realized he could do it, and had not thrown up a
+guard.
+
+Cautiously Buckmaster let fragments of careful thoughts escape. The
+moment he lowered the barriers of his mind he felt Wagner's power beat
+against him, wave upon wave. The sensation was frightening.
+
+Wagner seemed satisfied. Buckmaster could read very little in his mind
+now.
+
+"Done," Wagner said. "Now, one last warning. Don't try to double-cross
+me, or you'll regret the day you were born."
+
+Buckmaster's choices of action were very few. He doubted that he could
+make it but at least he should try to get to Duluth.
+
+At the toll bridge across the arm of the lake he bought a ticket.
+Nobody bothered him. He breathed easier as he rested against the iron
+railing waiting for the gate to open; then stopped breathing as a tall
+man--one of the Ruskies--leaned over beside him and said, "It won't
+work, friend."
+
+Buckmaster tore up his ticket. Strangely, there was a sense of relief.
+The force--the presence within him--whatever it was, wanted him to
+return to his friends. It didn't compel him, it used no coercion. It
+merely presented good reasons for doing so. He could do more good there
+than by fleeing, it suggested. And, so strongly as almost to blot out
+all other emotions, was the implanted desire--an urgent, compelling
+command--to stay and kill Koski.
+
+As Buckmaster started back, the thought struck him: Was he merely a
+pawn being moved by this inner power? Did he no longer have freedom of
+action? Was his will still his own?
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Wagner was annoyed to receive the summons from Koski. He fumed inwardly
+as he mounted the stairs to the General's second floor receiving room.
+It was always humiliating to be summoned like a common officer when he
+was in fact the ruler of the city.
+
+Koski had slipped baldly during the past few years but Wagner knew
+better than to put the old figurehead out of the way. He needed the
+power of that prestige until he had made his own position impregnable.
+
+Originally Wagner had been an unlettered lad from the steppes. When
+he had been made Koski's orderly, he had used his native cunning and
+slyness to ingratiate himself with the old commander. Soon Koski
+had made him his personal adjutant. From that advantageous position
+of trust it had been relatively simple for him to use his insidious
+talents to secure advantages for himself.
+
+During the process of organizing Superior's government Wagner had used
+his influence to get his own adherents appointed to key posts. By the
+time Koski began to succumb to the ravages of senility, Wagner held the
+most powerful position in the city--that of Security Administrator.
+
+By now Koski was so far gone that he did not even realize he did not
+rule; that the city's functions had come under the control, direct and
+indirect, of Wagner.
+
+"You wanted to see me, Sir?" Wagner asked.
+
+"Yes," the General answered, the shaggy hairs of his eyebrows meeting
+in a frown. "Have the doctors found a remedy for the Plague yet? It has
+gone so far now that soon the manpower we must have for the Campaign
+will be threatened."
+
+"Not yet, Sir, but they are within sight of it." Wagner was always
+careful to keep the scorn he felt from his voice. The old dodderer was
+useful and must be pampered--for awhile.
+
+The General still clung to his dream of the Campaign. His ultimate
+plan, from the time he had taken over Superior, had been to use the
+city as a base from which to spread his rule, until he had control of
+the entire continent--in the name of the mother country, of course.
+He had never let himself see that it was but a dream. He was certain
+that he would find other pockets of his fellow-men who, like himself
+had set up autonomous governments. With their aid he still hoped for
+an ultimate victory over the enemy. This would always remain enemy
+territory to him.
+
+"If we don't stop the Plague before it spreads to our own men, I'll be
+forced to use the Weapon," Koski growled. His great bony features had
+lost all power of expression except their habitual scowl, but his voice
+was still deep and vibrant. "I'll kill every man, woman, and child in
+the country!"
+
+Wagner had to admire the will to destruction that still rode the old
+man. He may have weakened in his mind but he had never softened. And
+the Weapon? It was the one secret that Wagner had not been able to
+learn.
+
+"Yes, Sir," Wagner agreed. "If you should ever feel the need to use the
+Weapon, I ask you to remember that my only wish is to be of aid to my
+General."
+
+Koski's washed blue eyes grew crafty. "I fully realize that. But I will
+need no help. You may accept my compliments and withdraw."
+
+Wagner muttered a soft oath under his breath as he bowed humbly.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"As you can see, I didn't die," Buckmaster said. The two chairs in the
+small room were occupied by the men he faced. He sat on a steel-framed
+bed.
+
+"No." Lester Oliver was thoughtful. "I'm wondering why you didn't. Do
+you have any explanation?"
+
+"Only something that you wouldn't understand, unless it happened to
+you," Buckmaster answered. "I couldn't explain it."
+
+"Try." Oliver spoke softly, but Buckmaster knew that behind that
+softness Oliver hid a bulldog tenacity.
+
+Carefully, patiently Buckmaster told about the Force, trying to make
+them sense it as he had.
+
+"You feel then," Cecil Cuff, the other man in the room, said, "that
+you're in the grip of something over which you have no direct control?"
+
+"Yes."
+
+"Are you certain that it is not the contact Wagner imposed on you?"
+
+"It came before Wagner was present," Buckmaster replied.
+
+Cuff turned to Oliver. "I know he believes what he is saying," he
+said. "But it's obvious that his mind has been tampered with. If we
+let him live, we'll be taking the risk that the General and Wagner are
+getting at us, through him."
+
+"That's right," Oliver answered.
+
+"I think he should be killed," Cuff said.
+
+Oliver was thoughtful for a long moment. "What do you think, Clifford?"
+he asked gently. He always called Buckmaster by his first name.
+
+Buckmaster breathed deeply. "Naturally I want to live," he answered.
+"But from the viewpoint of the Underground, I suppose Cuff is right."
+
+"You say that you feel that this Force is a protective one," Oliver
+said. "Does it seem to you that perhaps we couldn't kill you--that it
+would prevent us?"
+
+Buckmaster searched for words to express his thoughts. "I feel,"
+he said, "that it won't let me be killed. It seems that I have a
+mission to fulfill, and that it won't let me die--at least not until I
+accomplish what it desires. However, I feel also that it will, or can,
+do nothing concrete to prevent my being killed. It will probably aid me
+by convincing you that it would be better to let me live."
+
+"Do you feel that its purpose might be much the same as ours, and that
+it will attempt to convince us of that?" Oliver asked.
+
+"Something like that," Buckmaster answered. "At least the urge to kill
+Koski is so strong within me that I know I would not hesitate if I had
+the chance, even if it meant my own life."
+
+"Would you attempt to stop us if we tried to kill you?"
+
+"No."
+
+Oliver closed his eyes. He was silent for so long that it seemed he
+must be sleeping. But Buckmaster knew that Oliver's brain worked with
+lightning speed while his body reposed. Oliver was the most intelligent
+man he had ever known. He was head of the Underground solely because he
+was the fittest man for the job.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Finally Oliver spoke. "We'll come back to it later," he said. "Did you
+learn anything that might help us, Clifford?"
+
+"I learned that the Plague is spread by contact--only after the first
+symptoms show themselves. I read that in Wagner's mind before he
+realized that I was reading his thoughts."
+
+"That will help. You say you made contact before you became _en
+rapport_ with Wagner. Can you control what you let him learn through
+you?"
+
+"I believe I can, but I can't be certain."
+
+"If you could be certain, we wouldn't have to kill you," Oliver said.
+
+"You would be taking a chance," Buckmaster replied.
+
+"We can't afford to take any chances," Cuff said. "He--"
+
+"You're forgetting one thing, Cecil," Oliver interrupted. "As things
+stand right now, we're a lost cause. The Plague has killed many of our
+best men. The only thing that keeps Koski from staging a blood-bath is
+his fear of Governor Olson in Duluth. And pretty soon he won't have to
+fear that. We have only to lose another key dozen and Olson will have
+no friends here to aid."
+
+"May I offer a compromise?" Buckmaster asked. "As matters stand now,
+our only chance of winning freedom from Koski's savage rule is to kill
+him. And to do that we will have to kill Wagner first. Am I correct?"
+
+"Yes." Oliver raised his head. "What do you have to suggest?"
+
+"Let me try to kill Wagner. If I succeed our cause will have taken a
+big step. If he kills me first, then you've lost nothing more than if
+you'd killed me yourselves."
+
+After a barely perceptible hesitation Oliver nodded in agreement.
+
+For the rest of the day Buckmaster improvised a simulated course of
+action to let seep through to Wagner whenever he felt a probe. He kept
+his mind blank otherwise and was quite certain that he carried on the
+deception well. He caught nothing from Wagner in return that was not
+deliberately let through. He suspected that his own control was as
+good. Though he had not had the practice at this that Wagner had.
+
+Toward evening he improvised a crisis. The Underground was plotting
+something big, he transmitted. He made the need for action imperative
+and asked for a personal interview. At first Wagner demurred. He
+wanted Buckmaster to stay on and give first hand reports. Buckmaster
+gave hints in return that he was suspected by the other members, and
+indicated that he must leave while still able to. Finally Wagner agreed.
+
+"You realize the risk you're taking, coming with me, Cecil?"
+Buckmaster asked.
+
+"I do," Cuff said with his unchangeable reserve. "But you'll need my
+help."
+
+Buckmaster wished he himself could remain as cool. His own nerves felt
+like wires that had been drawn too tightly.
+
+Cuff was tall and robust, with a pessimistic outlook on life. He seemed
+to sit back and watch life and its peoples as a spectator, willing to
+fight ruthlessly for what he believed was right, but never expecting to
+discover anything fine enough in his fellow men to hope for anything
+better from them. He had touched the borders of an existence that
+was mean and hard and dirty and he had long ago despaired of finding
+anything else. Yet there was nothing apathetic about his personality.
+Life's illusions were gone, but its fascination remained.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"I didn't think you trusted me too much," Buckmaster said. Cuff
+acknowledged the statement by nodding his head. "I believed that you
+might be under Wagner's power. Wagner is a brute trying to break us. On
+this trip you're going to make your own heaven or hell, and if you've
+got the courage to face it, I'll back you up."
+
+In the Administration Building the girl at the information desk told
+them, "The Director will see you in a moment." She led them into a
+waiting room.
+
+Three hard-faced men, all wearing black shirts, came in. They had the
+mark of killers about them.
+
+"Stand up."
+
+They checked Buckmaster and Cuff for weapons. None was found. All five
+took the elevator to the sixth floor.
+
+Wagner was seated at his desk waiting for them when they walked into
+his office. He smiled his mirthless smile. "I see you brought company,"
+he said. "We'll get two birds with one stone."
+
+Buckmaster knew then that there was little use trying any further
+deception. Wagner knew. If he were able to squeeze through just a short
+ten seconds the job could still be done. The three bodyguards stood a
+few yards behind them.
+
+"I have something here that will interest you," Buckmaster said.
+Slowly, unhurriedly, but wasting no motion, he unbuttoned one flap on
+his shirt and reached a hand inside.
+
+He peeled back the long strip of adhesive tape covering the cavity
+below his ribs. He pulled out the small single-shot derringer concealed
+there. He aimed from the waist and put the bullet into the middle of
+Wagner's smile.
+
+The smile cracked, and the crack became a shatter, spreading in all
+directions. Buckmaster saw the trap then. He had shot at a reflection
+of Wagner. It had been a cleverly arranged mirror deception.
+
+Cuff turned to run through the door they had entered. But Buckmaster
+was so certain any attempt to escape would be in vain that he did not
+even move. Cuff found the three guards blocking the doorway.
+
+Buckmaster watched Wagner enter from opposite the cracked mirror. There
+were two more of his bodyguards with him.
+
+When the guards closed in Cuff struggled until they spun him back
+against the wall where his head crashed with a dull crunch. All the
+fight went out of him and he slumped in the arms of the men who held
+him.
+
+Two of the guards held Buckmaster's arms.
+
+"A couple of fine birds," Wagner said as he stood in front of them.
+
+Cuff straightened with an effort of will and shook his head until his
+vision cleared. He leveled his glance at Wagner. "You're a mongrel
+cur," he said unemotionally, "licking at the General's boots. He'll
+throw you another scrap for this day's work." Both he and Buckmaster
+knew that he sealed his own fate with the words. The one thing Wagner
+could not tolerate was ridicule, worse in the presence of his own men.
+
+Buckmaster caught the hard flat explosion in his face and pain in his
+eardrums as the gun that appeared in Wagner's hand went off.
+
+As he watched Cuff slump he knew the man was beyond torture. He
+suspected that this was what Cuff had wanted. He had taken the easy way
+out.
+
+Buckmaster leaned his shoulders back and then with sudden violence
+pulled his arms free from the guards' grip. He slapped Wagner across
+the mouth with his left hand and brought his right fist around in a
+short arc that crushed the bone in Wagner's nose.
+
+He made no resistance as the guards grabbed him and twisted his arm
+cruelly behind his back. The hurt from Wagner's shattered nose brought
+a bright glisten of pain into his eyes.
+
+"That was a mistake," Wagner said, the depth of his anger making his
+voice soft and husky, "I'm going to make you whine like a dog."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The general was suffering the tragedy of a strong man whose mind
+was turning senile--and who realized it. Only the two alternative
+objectives remained virile; the Campaign and, that failing, the Weapon.
+The Weapon gave him his only solace in times of trouble. Now, going
+down into the basement of his house, he sought it out again. Letting
+himself through two thick concrete doors, which he opened with a key
+that he wore about his neck at all times, he entered the room that held
+his potentially terrible secret.
+
+The outer contour of the Weapon was a rectangular frame of rough
+lumber. Inside was a metal box, and in this reposed a semi-glutinous
+mass of liquid. Nothing more. On the shelf above rested a bottle of
+aqua fortis. Quite simple substances--apart. Together they could spell
+the destruction of a world.
+
+The Dictator himself, had given Koski his instructions long before,
+back in the homeland.
+
+"General," you are being sent with an army, but its purpose is to
+protect your Weapon, and to bring it into a position of maximum
+effectiveness, rather than to fight. You fully understand, I hope, that
+if you ever have to use it, your mission will certainly be fatal to
+yourself?"
+
+"I understand, Sire," Koski answered. "I am thankful for the honor you
+have done me."
+
+"Your mission is to carry the Weapon to a central location on the
+North American continent. I believe you have the force necessary to
+accomplish that."
+
+Koski nodded but said nothing.
+
+"The component ingredients of the Weapon I know no better than you
+yourself. It was developed at the Institute. Its special faculty is its
+ability to free hydrogen from the moisture in the air, and to start a
+chain reaction. The physicists tell me that it will sear most of the
+continent once it starts reacting. About the only spot that would be
+spared are the dry regions, and maybe not even those. Just one thing
+you must remember--do not use it unless you are certain that the war is
+definitely lost. Do you understand the importance of that command?"
+
+"I do," Koski answered. "But wouldn't it be better to use it as soon as
+possible? The lives of my men and myself would be a small price to pay
+for victory."
+
+"True, except for one big question," the Dictator replied. "The
+explosive is so deadly that it was impossible to experiment. There is
+no such thing as a little bit of it. Consequently we are not certain
+of its effects. We expect, and hope, that it will dissipate itself as
+it spreads too far from its initial explosion point, but we cannot be
+certain. It is possible that, once released, it will devastate the
+entire world. You see now why it must be used only as a last resort?"
+
+Many times since Koski had gone over that conversation in his mind.
+Had the war been lost? Neither side had come through with functioning
+governments. Therefore, what course should he take? Perhaps the
+invaders even now ruled the homeland. Would he gain, or would he lose
+the last chance for ultimate victory by setting off the explosive?
+
+During the rare moments when his mind cleared, Koski realized the small
+chance the Campaign would have. At such times the Weapon beckoned. He
+knew then that the Campaign would never be completed in his lifetime.
+Wagner, however, was a very good man, with all the ideals of his
+country. He would carry on.
+
+It needed only a slight variation in the trend of events, to tip that
+scale one way or the other. Even now the General held the bottle of
+aqua fortis in his hand--undecided. The fate of the world teetered.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"You aren't so pretty anymore," Wagner said.
+
+"Neither are you," Buckmaster answered through battered, bloody lips.
+He wondered where he found the strength to keep taunting Wagner. He
+could feel that his face was a lumpy mess. One eye was closed and
+blood, running down into the other, kept blinding him. Every muscle in
+his body ached from the pounding it had taken, and he suspected that
+his left arm was broken. He sagged in his bonds.
+
+Wagner, he knew, was deliberately gauging the punishment. He meant to
+torture him to the verge of death, but he did not intend to let him die
+without further torment. Buckmaster wondered how much more he could
+stand.
+
+Long ago he had despaired of any help from the Force. He had felt
+nothing since the torture started. It was evident that it couldn't do
+anything, or would not, to stop this orgy of sadism. And he knew that
+any subtle attempts to divert Wagner from his sadistic pleasure would
+be useless.
+
+Wagner had all the instruments required for refined torture here. It
+was evident that he had used them many times in the past. He strapped
+Buckmaster's wrists to a waist-high wooden rack.
+
+"You'll be pleased to know that I have made a thorough study of the
+human anatomy," Wagner said. "Therefore, when I begin cutting off your
+limbs, one joint at a time, you won't have to worry. I'll see that you
+do not die--and also that you retain consciousness. I wouldn't want you
+to miss the exquisite delicacy with which I perform the operations.
+You'll be a basket case when I get through."
+
+Wagner picked up a short scalpel with an edge honed to a fine, razor
+sharpness. "This is a delicate little experiment that I find very
+effective," he said.
+
+He lifted Buckmaster's right index finger and cut deeply through the
+flesh of its tip. The intense acuteness of the sensitive nerves made
+the agony unbearable. Wave after wave of shock sensations struck at
+his nerve fibers as the blade traced a raw red path through another
+finger-tip.
+
+Sickness gathered in his stomach and retched up into his throat to gag
+him. He sucked in great gulps of air until at last he could stand no
+more pain and welcome oblivion blanked him out.
+
+He returned to consciousness to find Wagner still there--waiting.
+
+"Tsk, tsk," Wagner chided. "So you're not so tough, after all? And just
+when it was getting interesting."
+
+This time Buckmaster did not have the strength to defy him. He was
+beaten. He prayed that Wagner would tire of his pleasure before he had
+to stand any more. He wanted to go out still a man, and not a broken
+hulk, tearful, pleading, begging for mercy.
+
+"I think you're ready for something a bit more subtle," Wagner said. He
+concentrated his gaze on Buckmaster's eyes and slowly, cruelly built up
+a mental strain. The mind contact still held. Buckmaster realized that
+Wagner had been keeping this until he was too mentally whipped to fight
+back.
+
+He was surprised then to feel that he fought off the pressure with
+little strain to himself. Still lurking there in his mind, was the
+Force, quiet, hardly felt, but virile, with a sense of dynamic
+quiescence potency! Hope came where all hope had been dead.
+
+Something within him throbbed like electricity, and he sent a bolt of
+mental energy at Wagner's head.
+
+The shock of the emotional concussion brought blood bursting from
+Wagner's nostrils and eye sockets. A red tide poured from his lips.
+His head dropped loosely and Buckmaster knew that Wagner was dead even
+before he fell from his chair.
+
+Buckmaster sat astounded at the demonstration of power. He sat for a
+moment listening to the inner voice that sent up its answers to his
+silent questions. No, it hadn't been able to help him before. Its
+power was not physical. No, it could not help him escape. From here he
+was on his own. The only satisfaction he received was the closer entity
+he had found between himself and the Force. It seemed to him now that
+it did not come from the outside. Rather it was an essential part of
+himself. Or, more exactly, he was a part of that Force.
+
+Buckmaster worked his wrists backwards in their thongs until he forced
+the leather straps over the bases of his hands. Thus he was able to
+bend his wrists. Slowly, painfully, he brought up his right leg until
+his foot rested next to his right hand. The left foot next. Once he
+almost lost his balance. But at last he stood with his feet straddling
+his hands.
+
+He exerted all the strength of his leg, arm, and trunk muscles. The
+pain from his broken arm was a sickening thing but slowly the leather
+bands began to tear loose from the rivets that held them. A last mighty
+exertion and he was free.
+
+Wagner had a private elevator. Buckmaster entered and went to a ground
+floor. He walked out of the building through a tradesmen's entrance
+into a dusky alley.
+
+Keeping his good arm in front of his face he staggered around the
+corner and into a drugstore and reached a phone booth without being
+observed. He put in a call and crouched in the phone booth for the ten
+long minutes it took Oliver to come for him.
+
+"Two weeks aren't very long to get you well, Clifford," Oliver said,
+"but I'm afraid it's all the time we have. I'm sorry."
+
+"You did your best," Buckmaster answered, "At least you've got me
+pretty well patched up."
+
+"The last reports were that the police have drawn a ring around this
+district, and that they're closing in."
+
+"Do we have any way out?"
+
+"I hate to have to say this," Oliver said slowly. "But the rest of us
+can get out--if we don't take you with us."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Buckmaster had expected this. It seemed that he had known from the
+beginning that he would never live to see the end of this adventure.
+
+"It's all right. Is there anything I can do to help?"
+
+"No. They won't stop us if you aren't along. You're the man they're
+after. If there were any way I could help you by staying, I'd never
+leave. But I'd only be captured with you, and nothing gained."
+
+"Of course I understand." Buckmaster rested his hand for a moment on
+the old leader's shoulder. "Don't feel badly about it, Lester. The men
+need you. You owe it to them to get out if you can."
+
+Oliver gripped his hand. "Before I go I want you to know how grateful
+we are for the help you've given us. Without Wagner the General won't
+be nearly as hard to handle. And one other thing: I don't want you to
+hope too much, but there's still a chance we may be able to get you
+out. I'm trying a long shot. So if someone comes for you, go with him.
+In the meantime, keep your chin up."
+
+They shook hands again. Buckmaster surmised that Oliver was trying to
+give him something to cling to while he waited for the end. Then he was
+alone.
+
+Three hours later Buckmaster spotted the first of his executioners: One
+of the Ruskies that walked with studied unconcern across the street.
+
+Almost at the same time he heard a rap on the rear door of the
+apartment. He drew the gun Oliver had left with him and walked slowly
+to the door. "Who is it?"
+
+"Oliver sent me for you," the voice on the other side of the door
+answered.
+
+"Come in with your hands up." Buckmaster flattened himself against a
+side wall and shoved his gun into the ribs of a tall young man.
+
+"Who are you?"
+
+"My name is August Gamoll," the man said. Somehow the name was
+familiar. He should recognize it, Buckmaster thought. Abruptly he did.
+
+"What are you trying to do?" Buckmaster asked harshly. "Make a
+small-time hero of yourself with this grandstand play?"
+
+"Not at all," Gamoll answered. "I'm the long shot Oliver mentioned."
+
+"You're lying."
+
+"Then how would I know what Oliver said?"
+
+"It may be a lucky guess. Why should I trust you?"
+
+"Mainly because you have no choice. What have you got to lose?" He was
+a cool character.
+
+Buckmaster shrugged. He hated this playing it blind, but the fellow
+was right. "O.K.," he said. "You might as well take your hands down.
+Let's go."
+
+They went down the stairs. At the rear exit Gamoll looked out. He wore
+no hat. The wind from the alley fluffed the hair on the side of his
+head.
+
+"All clear," Gamoll said. "Make a dash for it. When you get in the
+carriage lie low. Now!"
+
+The die was cast, Buckmaster decided. He'd play it to the hilt now, all
+or nothing. He sprinted across the dirt of the alley and jerked open a
+door of the carriage. He threw himself inside and hugged the floor.
+
+Soon the carriage began to roll. When they had travelled about a half
+block it stopped. Buckmaster drew in his breath. This was the critical
+point. If Gamoll could bluff his way through now the rest would be
+comparatively easy.
+
+"Give me an escort, Captain," he heard Gamoll say. "I don't want to get
+tied up here. I understand there's going to be some shooting soon."
+
+"That's right, sir," a crisp military voice answered. "It's best that
+you get out fast. I'll send one of my men with you."
+
+The carriage started forward again. A half-hour later it stopped once
+more.
+
+"You may get up now," Gamoll said. "We're going inside. Stay close to
+me."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Buckmaster was not surprised when he alighted and found himself near a
+side door to the General's private residence.
+
+"I don't get all this," Buckmaster said. "You've had me here for six
+days now, and I've only seen you twice. Why should the General's son be
+hiding me?"
+
+"Quite simple. I don't like his methods, or his government, any more
+than you do. Oliver knew that when he sent his message to me asking for
+help."
+
+"Do you mean to say that you'd help us kill your own father?"
+
+"As to that," Gamoll said, "if you'll notice, my hair and eyes are
+brown.
+
+"So?"
+
+"Koski's eyes and my mother's are blue. You probably know that it is
+genetically impossible for two-blue-eyed people to have a brown-eyed
+son."
+
+"Then you're not his son?" Buckmaster was silent for a minute. "That's
+why you took the name of your mother's other husband," he mused.
+
+"If you remember, when the law was passed that each woman must have two
+husbands, the General set the example by marrying a woman who already
+had a husband. He knows that I am not his son biologically, but I am
+legally, and I have full inheritance rights. He was too smart--as well
+as legally exact--to disown me."
+
+"That means you'd automatically become the government head if the
+General died?"
+
+"Yes. But you're wrong if you think that I am doing this from any
+selfish motive. If I succeed, I'll institute a democratic form of
+government at my first opportunity."
+
+"I'll wait until I see it," Buckmaster answered cynically. "But if
+it's true, are your ideals strong enough to help us kill him?"
+
+For the first time Gamoll seemed uncertain of himself. "Why is it
+necessary to kill him, especially now that Wagner is dead? We both
+know that Wagner did the actual ruling. And the General is an old man,
+without much longer to live. We'll win if we do no more than stand by."
+
+"He must die--and soon!" Buckmaster exclaimed, surprised at the
+vehemence of the words. So vital had been the command, that he knew
+what he had said was true: Koski _must_ die, in the very near future.
+Though he himself was not certain of the need for such urgency.
+
+"I suppose I understand," Gamoll said, a trifle uneasily. "You have to
+act in self-defense. If you don't kill him, he will probably be able to
+kill many more of your men before he dies. But try to see his side. He
+is the representative of a Cause that is just--to his way of reasoning;
+so right and so just that he will do anything to advance it. Whatever
+we may think of him, his conscience is clear. I only ask you this: If
+you can see your way clear to attain your ends without killing him,
+will you let him live?"
+
+For another nine days Buckmaster stayed with Gamoll. He had nothing
+to occupy his time. In idle curiosity he went through the books in
+Gamoll's library. The young man owned many good books.
+
+Before long Buckmaster's idle browsing turned to an intent search. For
+the first time he began finding clues to the mystery that rode within
+him.
+
+His first clue, he thought, was a passage he read in a physics book
+entitled, "The Limitations of Science," by Sullivan: _Research has
+changed our whole conception of matter. The first step was the
+experimental demonstration that there exist little electrified bodies,
+very much smaller than a hydrogen atom, called electrons. Measurement
+was made with the result that the "whole" mass of the electron was
+found to be due to its electric charge. This was the first indication
+that the material universe is not the substantial, objective thing
+we had always taken it to be. Matter began to thin away into the
+completely spectral thing it has now become. The notion of "substance"
+had to be replaced by the notion of "behavior"._
+
+He passed readily from physics to the more fertile field of philosophy
+with the groping statement of Voltaire: _I have seen that which is
+called matter, both as the star Sirius, and as the smallest atom which
+can be perceived with the microscope; and I do not know what this
+matter is._
+
+He pursued this quest readily with the philosopher Schopenhauer and
+passed almost imperceptibly into metaphysics: _I will never believe
+that even the simplest chemical combination will ever admit of
+mechanical explanation; much less the properties of light, heat, and
+electricity. These will always require a dynamical explanation._
+
+_If we can ferret out the ultimate nature of our own minds we shall
+perhaps have the key to the external world._
+
+_Let us say, then, that repulsion and attraction, combination and
+decomposition, magnetism and electricity, gravity and crystallization,
+are Will._
+
+_Will, then, is the essence of man. Now what if it is also the
+essence of life in all its forms, and even of "inanimate" matter?
+What if Will is the long-sought-for, the long-despaired-of, "the
+thing-in-itself"--the ultimate inner reality and secret essence of all
+things?_
+
+Buckmaster perceived that these men were catching glimpses of something
+which they called Will, Order, Thing, Absolute, and other names but
+which were all very probably the same thing--and also that which he
+sought. Eagerly he read on.
+
+His next clue came from Bergson: _Thought may begin with its object,
+and at last, in consistency, be driven, by the apparent necessities of
+logic, to conceive all things as forms and creatures of mind_.
+
+Quickly he passed on to Spinoza where he found a wealth of food for
+thought. _Is the body merely an idea?_
+
+_Is all the mentality that is scattered over space and time, a diffused
+consciousness that animates the world?_
+
+_There is but one entity, seen now inwardly as mind, now outwardly as
+matter, but in reality an inextricable mixture and unity of both._
+
+_Eternal order ... that betokens the very structure of existence,
+underlying all events and things, and constituting the essence of the
+world._
+
+_Substance is insubstantial, that it is form and not matter, that it
+had nothing to do with that mongrel and neuter composite of matter._
+
+Bruno said: _All reality is one in substance, one in cause, one in
+origin; mind and matter are one._
+
+Descartes' conception of a homogeneous "substance" underlying all forms
+of matter intrigued him for a time, and he wrestled mentally with the
+classic quotation, _I think, therefore I am_.
+
+Berkeley wrote: _A "thing" is merely a bundle of perceptions--i. e.,
+classified and interpreted sensations_.
+
+Hegel: _The Absolute, transcending the individual limitations and
+purposes, and catching, underneath the universal strife, the hidden
+harmony of all things. Reason is the substance of the universe._
+
+Leibniz: _Although the whole of this life were said to be nothing but a
+dream, and the visible world nothing but a phantasm, I should call this
+dream or phantasm real enough, if, using reason well, we were never
+deceived by it_.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+For a time Buckmaster left the philosophers and read poetry. He found
+germs of what he sought in some of them, as Goethe's, _The force which
+draws the lover, and the force which draws the planets are one_.
+
+He found it beautifully in a stanza of Wordsworth's.
+
+            _Something
+    Whose dwelling is the light of the setting suns,
+    And the round ocean, and the living air,_
+
+    _And the blue sky, and the mind of man;--
+    A motion and a spirit, all objects of all thought,
+    And rolls through all things._
+
+In the main, however, he found in the poets that the grains of wheat
+were too few amidst the chaff and returned to philosophy.
+
+Most of these excerpts, he felt, were clues to the enigma of himself.
+He knew that these great minds had touched on the very mystery that
+puzzled him. Once again he felt on the verge of _understanding_. Did he
+have all the pieces? Could he fit them into the pattern, if he but knew
+how? Or must he need to learn more?
+
+Suddenly he found the explanation in a book of essays by, the
+incongruity of it struck him as ironical, an anonymous writer. He read:
+
+_For a time, during the middle ages, the theory that all the world, and
+even the universe, were figments of one giant imagination, swayed the
+thinkers of the world. The intellect in which this imagination centered
+was focused in one man, and one man only, in the whole of existence.
+That man was the one man who "thought." All other men, all other
+matter, were but imagined props with no actual existence. That man is
+the one who "thinks!" "You"--and only "you," the person who is reading
+this--in the whole world. It does not matter what your name might be.
+It might be...._
+
+Clifford Buckmaster knew then the mystery of life, who he was, and
+why. He no longer concentrated, but his eyes read on: _At first
+glance it would seem that there is a concerted conspiracy to avoid
+acknowledging this fact. Learned men, acquiring wisdom, come to the
+brink of the great discovery, and then deftly skirt it, blinding
+themselves to its evidentness. However, on second thought the reason
+is obvious. The theory is anarchistic; it carries the seeds of its own
+futility. If they were ever to admit the truth of it, all reason for
+everything--their very discovery, their very thoughts--would be futile.
+So they refuse to recognize it._
+
+_Your obvious question is, How can I tell you this? Who am I--the
+writer of this essay? The answer is quite simple. I am merely a figment
+of your imagination, as is everything else about you!_
+
+At last he knew. His first sensation was one of awful, empty solitude.
+He was one creature--alone. Alone in a universe!
+
+He was an entity living in a dream world. All about him were the
+figments of an imagination--presumably his own. And even knowing, he
+still had no control of events--like a dream that cannot be halted or
+changed. The people about him were automatons, in fact they possessed
+no actual substance. Even his own body was but a figment--but he could
+be hurt! He had experienced the most acute pain, and very probably he
+could be killed.
+
+He had, however, little time to brood on it. At that instant in his
+reflections Gamoll jerked open the library door and walked in.
+
+"The worst has happened," he exclaimed. "The security police have
+caught Oliver."
+
+"What can we do?" Buckmaster still could not regard Gamoll, or Oliver
+and his friends, as nonentities.
+
+"I hate to say this," Gamoll said, "but you'll have to get out. I may
+be able to help Oliver escape, but I'll be powerless if they learn that
+I'm connected with the Underground."
+
+"They probably wouldn't hesitate to kill you also," Buckmaster said.
+
+"That wouldn't be too important, if my dying would accomplish
+anything," Gamoll said. "But the Underground's only hope seems to be my
+keeping clear."
+
+Slowly, almost unobtrusively, a vision rose up before Buckmaster's
+eyes. Gamoll's features clouded, became vague, and were gone. In his
+place stood the General. In the General's hand was a bottle, and before
+him a wooden frame, holding a metal box with its lid open. Buckmaster
+realized that what he was seeing was happening in some other part
+of the building. He could see cement walls in the room in which the
+General stood. Probably the basement, he thought.
+
+Within him the Force commanded! He must get to the General, and kill
+him. The world was on the brink of disaster. And time was running out.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Gradually the whole composite vision vanished and he saw the handsome
+features of Gamoll again. He knew what he had to do now.
+
+"I'm leaving immediately," he said.
+
+Closing the library door behind him he walked unhesitatingly down a
+long hallway. To either side of him, painted on the walls, were murals,
+depicting peasants in the fields, harvesting grain. Idly he observed
+the painted figures as he walked, with his brain chilled and numbed of
+almost all emotion. The painted figures possessed as much reality as
+anything else about him, he thought disinterestedly.
+
+He walked down steps and across an inner courtyard, his legs moving
+stiffly, lifelessly.
+
+He continued up the steps on the far side of the courtyard, his mind
+shutting out everything around him except the door ahead. When he
+reached there he stopped. Here, he knew, he was at the crossroads. He
+could move straight ahead through the door, or he could walk around the
+house and enter the basement through the back. That was the longer way,
+but probably the safer. And the Force urged the second choice.
+
+A mood of black frustration swept over him and some perverse
+stubbornness of his human nature rebelled at this supine abnegation. He
+knew that he was going to die, and his one last defiant act would be to
+die in a way of his own choosing. He walked straight ahead.
+
+As he opened the door and stepped into a long green-carpeted room he
+found himself facing three guards. They held guns and the guns were all
+aimed at him.
+
+Even before he observed that the guards were firing, he felt the
+killing slugs enter his body. He knew the bullets had reached vital
+organs and that he was about to die. Within him he felt the Force,
+angry and rebuking.
+
+He felt a wrench at the core of his body structure--and he was
+walking--walking--endlessly--down a long corridor. On the walls to
+either side of him were the figures of harvesters painted on yellow
+murals. His body was alive and vital. He walked on, through a doorway
+and out into a courtyard before he realized what had happened. The
+Force had turned time backward! He was once more on his way to shoot
+Koski. He was exactly the same as he had been the last time but with
+the addition of his memories of having been shot. And the silent
+warning that came to him never to expect another second chance. That
+could not be repeated.
+
+This time when he came to the fatal door there was no surge of
+rebellion and he did not hesitate. He walked around the house until he
+came to the basement entrance. Cement steps led downward. Two guards
+were waiting for him there. One guard fell as Buckmaster fired, but he
+knew with a terrible certainty that he would not be able to kill the
+other in time to save himself.
+
+The guard's bullet crashed into Buckmaster's diaphragm and his body
+jerked once but it did not stop its determined pacing forward.
+Buckmaster fired again but even as he did he felt a second bullet enter
+his body. It pierced his heart and he knew that he was dead. With
+dimming vision he watched the guard fall over on his side as his own
+bullet found its mark.
+
+Even as Buckmaster realized that the bitter fever of life was over for
+him he knew that his body would not stop. Without any directive from
+the brain it was using the last of the suspended energy in its blood
+and muscles to walk forward, driving with an awful exertion.
+
+On he walked into the cement lined room. The General stood there,
+oblivious to the noise about him. The hair on the crown of his head
+parted violently as the bullet from the gun in Buckmaster's hand hit
+its mark.
+
+The gun became a weight too heavy for Buckmaster's lifeless fingers
+and dropped to the floor. The last spark of life flickered for a brief
+moment where it had fled in some inner recess of his brain and he felt
+the Force for the last time. Two words it spoke. "Well done," and he
+knew that at last his job was finished. Now he would return home!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Buckmaster had reasoned well, considering his natural limitations.
+But the truth he had discovered was, like most truths, only part of a
+greater truth.
+
+In the far reaches of infinity, beyond the outermost boundaries of
+space, a thought-voice spoke. "Am I going to die?" it asked.
+
+"Not now," a second entity answered. "The crisis is past."
+
+"Will the sickness come again?"
+
+"Not this particular form of malevolent psychosis," the second entity
+replied. "But perhaps you had better tell me all the facts you know so
+that I can advise you about the future."
+
+"My project, I still believe, was magnificent," the sick entity began.
+"From the energy of my essence I materialized a world of infinitesimal
+creatures. I gave them time and space, and built a background of a
+universe for their wonderment and speculation. They dwelt on their
+world, lived their lives, and made their tiny, though admirable,
+advances as they saw their destiny. And then, suddenly, when all seemed
+beautiful, something went wrong, and I was ill unto death. What did I
+do that was not right?"
+
+"I believe you made your mistake when you gave your creatures
+free will. They developed their malignancies, as well as their
+admirabilities. When they developed a malignancy of such virulence
+that they were in a position to destroy themselves, you made yourself
+vulnerable to death, through them. The shock of that devastation to you
+would have killed you. Tell me, were your creatures aware that they
+were figments of your mind?"
+
+"Some grasped inklings of it, though none were certain. One, a Baruch
+Spinoza, came as close to the truth as it was possible, for their
+finite minds. He wrote: _We are the flitting forms of a being greater
+than ourselves, and endless while we die. Our bodies are cells in the
+body of the race, our race is an incident in the drama of life; our
+minds are the fitful flashes of an eternal light. Our mind, in so far
+as it understands, is an eternal mode of thinking, which is determined
+by another mode of thinking, and this one again by another, and so on
+to infinity._ That was magnificent. While others who caught inklings of
+the truth believed that I was an ultimate being, he realized that I,
+too, had an ultimate being whom I worshipped."
+
+"Also, if he had been able to perceive how close you were to death,"
+the second entity said, "he would have realized that you were mortal,
+which no ultimate being can be."
+
+"How were you able to circumvent the disaster that so nearly befell me?"
+
+"I sent a segment of my own mentality into your conceived world. I gave
+it a name, implanted a memory of a past into its mind, and that same
+memory into the minds of those creatures with whom it was supposed to
+have come into contact, in its past. Through that segment I was able to
+destroy the awful potentiality, as well as the creature who controlled
+it. The secret now rests with the dead."
+
+"Is there any chance of a similar recurrence?"
+
+"That chance will always exist as long as you persist in allowing your
+creatures to have free will. I would advise you to destroy it."
+
+For a time the patient was silent. "No," it said finally, "without that
+free will their existence and my entire project would be futile. I will
+let the free will remain and bear any consequences."
+
+"That, of course, is your own choosing," the other said.
+
+And so man kept his greatest possession.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Infinity's Child, by Charles V. de Vet
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 58682 ***