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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e172e30 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #61859 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/61859) diff --git a/old/61859-8.txt b/old/61859-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 9bcdf7e..0000000 --- a/old/61859-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2995 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ultimate Salient, by Nelson S. Bond - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Ultimate Salient - -Author: Nelson S. Bond - -Release Date: April 17, 2020 [EBook #61859] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ULTIMATE SALIENT *** - - - - -Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - THE ULTIMATE SALIENT - - By NELSON S. BOND - - Brian O'Shea, man of the Future, here is - your story. Read it carefully, soldier - yet unborn, for upon it,--and upon you--will - one day rest the fate of all Mankind. - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories Fall 1940. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -_He glanced at me slowly, and a bit sadly, I thought. "I'm sorry, -Clinton," he said, "but that won't do. It won't do at all. It will have -to be written. You see--you won't be here then...."_ - -I thought at first he was the census-snoop, returning to poke his -proboscis into whatever few stray facts he might have overlooked the -first time. My wife was out, and when I saw him coming up the walk, -that bulky folder under his arm, I answered the door myself--something -I seldom do--sensing a sort of reluctant duty toward the minions of -Uncle Sam. - - * * * * * - -He was a neat and quiet person. One of those drab, utterly commonplace -men who defy description. Neither young nor old, tall nor short, stout -nor slender. He had only one outstanding characteristic. An eager -intensity, a _piercingness_ of gaze that made you feel, somehow, as if -his ice-blue eyes stared ever into strange and fathomless depths. - -He said, "Mr. Clinton?" and I nodded. "_Eben_ Clinton?" he asked. Then, -a trifle breathlessly I thought, "Mr. Clinton, I have here something -that I know will prove of the greatest interest to you--" - -I got it then. I shook my head. "Sorry, pal. But we don't need some." I -started to close the door. - -"I--I beg your pardon?" he stammered. "Some?" - -"Shoelaces," I told him firmly, "patent can-openers or fancy soaps. -Weather-vanes, life insurance or magazines." I grinned at him. "I don't -_read_ the damned things, buddy, I just write for them." - -And again I tried to do things to the door. But he beat me to it. -There was apology in the way he shrugged his way into the house, but -determination in his eyes. - -"I know," he said. "That is, I _didn't_ know until I read this, -but--" He touched the brown envelope, concluded lamely, "it--it's a -manuscript--" - -Well, that's one of the headaches of being a story-teller. Strange -things creep out of the cracks and crevices--most of them bringing with -them the Great American Novel. It was spring in Roanoke, and spring -fever had claimed me as a victim. I didn't feel like working, anyway. -No, not even in my garden. Especially in the turnip patch. Hank Cleaver -isn't the only guy who has trouble with his turnips. - -I sighed and led the way into my work-room. I said, "Okay, friend. -Let's have a look at the masterpiece...." - -His first words, after we had settled into comfortable chairs, made -me feel like a dope. I suppose I'm a sort of stuffed shirt, anyway, -suffering from a bad case of expansion of the hatband. And I'd been -treating my visitor as if he were some peculiar type of bipedal worm. -It took all the wind out of my sails when he said, by way of preamble, -"If I may introduce myself, Mr. Clinton, I'm Dr. Edgar Winslow of the -Psychology Department of--" - -He mentioned one of our oldest and most influential Southern -universities. I said, "Omigawd!" and broke into an orgy of apologies. -But he didn't seem to be listening to me; he was preoccupied with his -own explanation. - -"I came to you," he said, "because I understand you write stories -of--er--pseudo-science?" - -I winced. - -"Science-_fiction_," I corrected him. "There's quite a difference, you -know." - -"Is there?" He frowned. "Oh, yes. I see. Please forgive me. Well, -Clinton--" The professorial stamp was upon him; quite unconsciously he -addressed me as if I were one of his students. "Well, Clinton, I came -to ask a favor of you. I want you to transmit a message to a certain -man. I want you to write the message in such a form that it will not be -lost--in the form of a fictional narrative." - -It takes all kinds to make a world. I gazed at him thoughtfully. I -said, "Don't look now, but isn't that doing it the hard way? I'll be -glad to help you out. But putting a simple message into story form -is--well, why not just let me _tell_ the guy? By word of mouth?" - -"I'm afraid," he said soberly, "that is impossible. You see, the person -to whom this message must go will not be born until the year 1942." - -"Nineteen--!" It worked. It threw me off balance for a minute. Then -came the dawn. It _was_ a gag, after all. My pal Ross being funny -from out Chicago way, maybe? Or Palmer, deserting Tark long enough to -joyride me over the well-known hurdles? I chuckled. I said, "That's all -right, Professor. I'm young; I can wait. Just tell me the name of this -unsprouted seedling, and I'll stick around till he gets old enough to -talk to. Only the good die young; I expect to live to a ripe old age." - -He glanced at me slowly, and a bit sadly, I thought. "I'm sorry, -Clinton," he said, "but that won't do. It won't do at all. It will have -to be written. You see--you won't be here then...." - - * * * * * - -You know, it should have been funny. Uproariously, screamingly funny. -I should have laughed my crazy head off, given my obviously screwy -visitor a smoke and a drink and a clap on the back and said, "Okay, -pal. You win the marbles. Come clean, now. Who put you up to this -crystal ball stuff? What's the payoff?" - -But I didn't, because somehow it wasn't funny after all. There was a -deadly seriousness to my visitor's manner; the knuckles of his hands -were white upon his knees, his icy blue eyes burned with a tortured -regret that was like a dash of water to my mirth. - -"I'm sorry, Clinton," he said. "I'm really dreadfully sorry." - -I lit a cigarette carefully. In as even a voice as I could muster, I -said, "Perhaps you'd like to tell me more? Perhaps you'd better start -from the beginning?" - -"Yes," he said. "Yes, I think that would be best." He fingered the -thick brown envelope nervously. "The story begins," he said, "and -ends--with this manuscript...." - - * * * * * - -"As I have already told you," said Dr. Winslow, "my profession is -teaching. Psychology is my field. Recently I have given much of my -time to research into the lesser-known faculties of the human mind. -Experimental psychical research such as that investigated by Prof. J. -B. Rhine of Duke. You are undoubtedly familiar with his work?" - -"Extra-sensory perception?" I nodded. "Yes. Most fascinating. -The results are far from satisfactory, though. And some of his -conclusions--" - -"You make a common error," said my visitor gravely. "Dr. Rhine has not -assumed to draw any conclusions--as yet. He offers only a few, and -completely logical, presumptions. - -"Dr. Rhine's studies to date, however, have been in the field of -extra-sensory perception only. There are other fields of psychical -research quite as untouched, and, I have reason to believe, even more -important and--fruitful. - -"It is in one of these companion fields that I have been laboring. I -have been investigating the phenomenon you may know as 'telaesthesia.'" - -"You mean," I asked, "telepathy?" - -"There is a difference between the two. Telepathy, as defined by Myers -in 1882, is 'the communication of impressions of any kind from one mind -to another, independently of the recognized channels of sense.' It -implies a deliberate, recognized contact between two minds existent at -one time. - -"Telaesthesia is a more complex meeting of entities. If A, let us -say, reaches out and helps himself to the contents of B's mind -_without_ the knowledge or assistance of B, that process will be -called 'telaesthesia.' Unlike telepathy, it knows no barriers of Time. -There are hundreds of recorded case histories from which we learn of -men of our time who have established telaesthetic contact with former -forgotten eras. - -"And of days to come, as well!" Here Winslow's eyes literally gripped -me. "But never, until now, has anyone succeeded in gaining more than a -fleeting glimpse into the Time stream of the future. Never before has -a man established a contact so deep, so strong, that he could read not -one sentence or one paragraph of that which is to be--but an entire -chapter, decades long...!" - - * * * * * - -It was spring in Roanoke. Outside, warm April sunshine poured down -luxuriant gold upon the faint, green buds. My place, _Sans Sou_, lies -in a quiet fold between two rolling hills. There was nothing to disturb -that quiet now save the boastful warble of a redbird, "Purty! Purty!" -and the petulant complaint of a chipmunk in the sycamore. - -The sky was a pale, soft blue, cloudless and serene. There were no -clouds, and even the delicate fronds of the weeping willow drooped -motionless. So it could not have been a storm I heard. Yet as he spoke, -a dark shadow seemed to scud across the sky, veiling the sunlight, and -the gods made portent in the swell of distant thunder. I felt the short -hairs stiffen on my neck, and despite the warmth I shivered. - -I said, and why I spoke in a whisper I cannot tell, "Never before ... -until ... _now_?" - -"Until now!" he repeated. And suddenly his fingers were swift with -eagerness, he fumbled with the flap of the envelope while words -raced from his lips. "Several months ago I began to experiment with -automatic writing, one of the means by which telaesthetic contact is -authenticated. - -"At first the results were--as might be expected--faulty. From the -autohypnotic syncopes into which I was able to project myself, I woke -to find nothing on the sheets before me but meaningless scribbles. - -"And then, suddenly, I woke one day to find that in my period of -subliminal usurpation I had achieved a definite result. I--or -someone--had written four full pages. The first four pages of this -manuscript!" - -Here he handed the manuscript to me. I had time to notice that the -writing was full-bodied, flowing. Then Dr. Winslow's words claimed my -attention again. - -"That was but the beginning. Once having established contact, it was -as though I became the _alter ego_ of this mysterious correspondent. -From that time on my experiments were graced with success. Whenever I -resumed contact, pages were added to the manuscript. By the periodicity -of these, I am led to believe that Brian O'Shea is a diarist, and that -through some inexplicable phenomenon, it is given to me to be able to -set down, telaesthetically, the very words he writes in his diary--" - -"You said," I interrupted, "Brian--?" - -"O'Shea," nodded Winslow. "Brian O'Shea. A soldier in the army of the -Americas, Clinton--in the year 1963 A.D.! His diary is a history of the -things to come!" - - * * * * * - -What I would have said then, I do not know. Maybe I would have said -something bitingly scurrilous--which I most certainly would have -regretted later. Or perhaps, as is most likely, I was momentarily -stunned into speechlessness. But I was spared the necessity of -speaking. Dr. Winslow had risen; eyes glowing strangely, he touched my -shoulder. - -"I am going to leave you now, so you may read this manuscript in peace. -When you have finished, you will understand why I came, and know that -which must be done. - -"You will find that the manuscript begins abruptly at the moment when -first I 'contacted' O'Shea. It ends with equal abruptness. There -are fragments missing; these may be filled in or rounded out as you -consider necessary for the purpose of story-telling. I have made a few -slight changes in spelling. Whether O'Shea was--or should I say 'will -be?'--a poor scholar, I do not know. The spelling of some words may -have changed over a period of trouble-swept decades.... - -"But whatever surprises lie in store for you, whatever conclusions -you draw from the manuscript you are about to read, I beg of you that -you play the game of caution. If you end by doubting O'Shea's story, -_still_ you must convey to him the message the manuscript demands. It -is the only way. We must take no chances. I will leave my address--" -Here he scribbled a few words on his card; I noted subconsciously that -his own handwriting was tiny, crabbed, angular. "When you have finished -reading, get in touch with me. No, don't get up!" - -For a long moment I stared after him. Is there any way I can tell you -how I felt? I, who have written fantasies woven of thin air, now thus -to be suddenly thrust into a fantasy beyond my own wildest imaginings? -Even more important, is there a way I can make you believe that this is -not merely another amusing tale, to be read today and forgotten soon? - -The structure of this narrative is mine. I supplied the story form. But -is there any way I can convince you that the words which follow are not -my own? _I did not write this story!_ It is the story of a man who is -not yet born, who will not live these happenings for twenty years. - -Here is the story of Brian O'Shea, soldier.... - - - II - ---Stumbled and pitched to his knees. I ran to his side and would have -carried him, but he shook me off. - -"It's too late, O'Shea," he said. "My number's up. Take over. And--" He -hiccoughed convulsively and his lips drooled red. "And for Lord's sake, -Brian, get the men out of this trap!" - -His eyes glazed, then, and his head dropped forward to his chest. -Someone tugged at my shoulder. It was Ronnie St. Cloud; he was -screaming, above the splatter of shrapnel, "The hills, O'Shea! They've -cut us off from the river. The hills are our only way out!" - -Danny Wilson was beside him, and Knudsen, and a few more. About us -milled a shrieking, terrified throng; it was impossible to tell soldier -from civilian. Our uniforms were anything but uniform. We wore whatever -serviceable garments we could salvage. I still had--though I suppose -it was unrecognizable beneath a layer of caked sweat and mud--an old -khaki campaign shirt, but my breeches were a corduroy pair I had found -in a demolished farm house near Sistersville. St. Cloud wore the -horizon-blue jacket of a _poilu_ beside whom he had fought in Belgium. -Knudsen looked least military of all in whipcord riding breeches -commandeered from the tack rooms of the Greenbriar Inn at White Sulphur. - -St. Cloud was right, of course; we might have known from the beginning -we couldn't hold Huntington. It was open to the west, and that entire -sector, from Chicago to Detroit and spearheading southward to Akron, -Cincinnati, Zanesville, was occupied by von Schuler's Death's Head -Brigade. - -But Captain Elmon, who had whipped our tiny company into some semblance -of order after the debacle at Pittsburgh and had brought us safely down -the river through Parkersburg and Gallipolis, had believed we might be -able to defend this West Virginia river town until reinforcements could -reach us from the Fort Knox garrison. - - * * * * * - -There was a school here, a Marshall College, with a layout ideal -for our purposes. The buildings were more than a hundred years old, -sturdily built; there were dormitories, kitchens, private power plants -for heat and light. The campus was encircled by a waist-high brick wall -which, sandbagged, made a perfect first-line defense against infantry. - -The rugged, mountainous terrain made it impossible for the Toties to -bring up mechanized units. Nor could they bring pressure to bear from -the Ohio River which, here, was not only shallow but bedded with -rubble from the locks and dams we had blown up. - -But--the old, old story. They got us from the air. Their Messerschmitts -and Junkers descended on us like a host of locusts, bombed the town -ruthlessly; small pursuit planes strafed the fleeing populace with -merciless persistence. We couldn't do anything about that, of course. -Captain Elmon told me once--he saw volunteer service in Sweden before -our country got into it--that in the early days of the war, aircraft -confined its operations to military objectives. But I laughed; I knew -he was just leading me on. He was a great one for joking, was the -captain, even in the darkest hour. - -Now Elmon lay dead at my feet; his final command had been that I take -over. Get the men out of this trap. There was no time to waste in -bootless grieving. Already the sharp bite of sidearms augmented the -scream of shellfire ... which meant the Toties were up to their old -trick of parachuting an army of occupation into the beleaguered town. - -I shouted swift orders to the others, bade them pass the word around to -"take to the hills." There were viaducts under the railroad at 16th and -20th Streets; we used these as our ports of egress. It wasn't a matter -of minutes. We gave ground slowly, fighting off the enemy advance from -street to street, alley to alley, house to house. - -By the old football stadium, now an ammunition dump, I found Bruce -MacGregor, the Canadian, and the roly-poly Hollander, Rudy Van Huys. -They had impressed the services of a dozen scared civilians, were -loading trucks, vans, anything with our meager store of ammunition. -MacGregor glanced at me sharply. - -"Where's the Old Man, O'Shea?" - -"Dead," I told him. "We're on our own. Mac, do you think you can handle -this job alone?" - -"Why?" - -"I want Van Huys to forage. We're retreating to the hills. Use the 20th -Street underpass, cut south to the Big Sandy, then west at Louisa. -Rudy, get all the food-stuffs you can lay hands on. We're heading for -hungry country." - -They grunted understanding and I went on. They were two good men. -The chubby Dutchman could smell out provisions like a beagle. Our men -wouldn't starve immediately, anyway. - -That moment's delay was the only thing that saved my life. I was but -a half block away from the underpass when a Totie bomber spotted the -stream of refugees flooding out of the city through that viaduct. My -ears sang to the screaming whine of his power dive, concussion threw -me to the pavement as he loosed his entire rack full of bombs into the -heart of the fleeing throng. - -They never had a chance. Those who did not die instantly in the -explosion were buried a split-second later in the tons of twisted steel -and concrete that cascaded down upon them. There was one moment of -dreadful cacaphony, hoarse screams of fear mingling with the thunderous -roar of the explosion--then a dull, unearthly silence, punctuated only -by the muted whimper of a few charred bodies that could not die and the -grating slither of broken masonry filling the chinks of the funereal -mound. - - * * * * * - -I rose, shaken, nauseated. Others had come up behind me; among them was -Devereaux. There were tears in the young Frenchman's eyes. He lifted -his head blindly toward the sky, shook an impotent fist. - -"_Les sales cochons!_ Will it never end, O'Shea, the triumph of these -devils? Are honor and mercy dead? Is God dead? My country ... all of -Europe ... now yours...." - -"They haven't taken America," I told him savagely, "yet! Come on. We're -leaving town through the 20th Street viaduct. Is that you, Ronnie? -What's the news?" - -"They've consolidated position along Fifth Avenue, thrown a defense -line from Four Pole Creek to the river, infantry advancing north along -the river bank to the college. Thompson and a foray squad are trapped -in the First National, no use trying to save them. We blew the Toties' -brains out, though." St. Cloud grinned ghoulishly. "We had City Hall -plaza groundmined. They chose that spot to set up general headquarters." - -"Where's Frazier?" - -"Dead. Blue Cross." - -"Janowsky?" - -"Same thing." - -"Wilson?" - -"He's all right. Or was. He went back toward the college. Said -something about having an ace up his sleeve, whatever that means." - -I didn't tell him. I didn't have to, for at that moment Danny came -racing toward us. He waved his hand at me in a sort of vague salute or -greeting, yelled, "If you're ready to get goin', _git_! There'll never -be a better time." - -"Why?" - -"Because the Toties are goin' to have their hands full in a minute. -With something too hot to handle. I just happened to remember that -college we were bunked in had its own heating plant. A natural gas -pipe-line. Since it was the Toties' objective, I thought maybe I'd warm -house before they got there. Hold your hats, folks! There she goes!" - -There came a sudden, terrific blast of sound. Even at that distance -we felt the shuddering repercussion, felt a breath of superheated air -fan our cheeks as the natural well Danny had set off let go with a -thunderous detonation. Into the gathering dusk shot a writhing spiral -of white-hot flame ... the jagged outlines of oft-bombed houses looked -black and ugly against the searing screen. - -The flames leaped higher, higher, spread. An oily pall blotted the -dying rays of the sun; from afar came to us the crackling agony of a -city destroying itself. I watched, spellbound for a moment, then turned -to the others. - -"Danny is right. This is our chance. Let's go!" - - * * * * * - -MacCregor and Rudy Van Huys were waiting for us in the hills beyond -the city. We paused to take stock of equipment, count noses, and -plan our next move. Of our company--which had numbered six hundred -before Pittsburgh, and had been one hundred and sixty-odd at yesterday -evening's rollcall--now there remained but fifty-seven men. Twelve -recruits joined us from the clamoring mob of civilian refugees. These -were, of course, either graybeards, striplings, or men of dubious value -as soldiers. All men of fighting age and caliber had long ago been -called to the colors by wave upon wave of government drafts. - -We were a pitiful collection, poorly fed, inadequately armed, raggedly -clad. Even so, the civilians were loud in their demand that we remain -with them to "protect" them. But this I could not agree to do. - -"You'll be safer," I told them, "hiding here in the hills than marching -with us. We'll try to contact Preston's brigade at Fort Knox. You have -food, water, radios, medical supplies. Hide out, keep living and--keep -hoping!" - -And so we left them. They must have numbered three thousand, mostly -women and children. A few tried to follow, but I quickened the pace. -The last weeping woman abandoned the pursuit after five miles; I saw -her fall to earth, beating the insensate soil with weary, hopeless -fists. - -Beside me marched Danny Wilson. He was a reckless, devil-may-care -lad, was Danny. Even in the thick of battle his ruddy features were -habitually wreathed in a grin. But it had deserted him now. He said -soberly, "Maybe we should have stayed with them, Brian, boy. It's a -hard row to hoe." - -"We can't fight a war in small detachments," I told him grimly. "You -know that. Mexico tried it, and now their country is under Totie rule. -Nova Scotia tried it, and now the swastika flies there. Our only hope -is to concentrate, meet them somewhere in one decisive battle." - -"I suppose you're right. We go to join Preston?" - -"Yes. It's the general concentration point. Elmon got instructions -by radio just before he went west. Jackson is bringing up his army -from the Gulf, Davies is marching in from Springfield. They say -three flights are taking off from Fort Sill; we'll have a small air -force. If we can beat the Toties off at Louisville, we'll cut their -communications line from Pittsburgh to Cincinnati, hold the Ohio." - -That night we slept along the Big Sandy. Before we bivouacked I broke -our little company into six squads, each of eleven men, each headed by -a veteran on whom I knew I could depend. I appointed Danny Wilson and -Ronnie St. Cloud as my lieutenants. In arranging the squads, I tried to -place the men according to nationality under one of their own race. - -Raoul Devereaux led one of the French squads, while Anatole LeBrun -the other. That would have been funny a few years ago, when the army -was still organized under the caste basis, because Devereaux used to -be a captain and LeBrun a common private. But that old "officer and -gentleman by Act of Congress" stuff had gone overboard a long time ago. -Now we picked our leaders by their leadership ability. - -Ian Pelham-Jones, the Britisher, and Bruce MacGregor headed two -English-speaking squads; Rudy Van Huys commanded a group of Dutch and -Belgians; the tall Norwegian, Ingolf Knudsen, led a collection of -assorted Scandinavians. Norwegians, Swedes, Finns, Danes--Lord, there -was a tough outfit! - -And so we hit the trail. There's not much use telling about the days -that followed. We marched and slept and ate and marched again. We were -spotted once by a Totie spyplane; he came down to do a little plain and -fancy strafing but we had the advantage of broken terrain. We took to -cover and turned his crate into a colander before he decided he'd had -enough. Lars Frynge, the Swedish sharpshooter, claims he punctured the -pilot as well as the plane, but I wouldn't know about that. Though it's -true that he did wobble as he flew away. - - * * * * * - -We avoided Lexington, cutting south through Campton and Irvine. We -picked up a railroad at Lancaster. Joe Sanders, a native of these -parts, said it was a part of the old Louisville & Nashville. If it -were in operation, he said, it would take us right to our destination. -But that was like saying if we had wings we could fly. The rails were -twisted ribbons of steel; in some places the roadbed had been so -completely eradicated you would never know it had been there. - -We saw people from time to time, but mostly in the small towns. They -came out to cheer us as we marched through, offered us what little they -had in the way of fresh water, barley bread, clothing that would never -be used, now, by sons, husbands, brothers, who had fought their final -battle. I got a fine new sweater in one village. In another we had an -odd experience. A white-haired granddame insisted we accept a flag she -had sewn for us. A funny-looking red flag with blue diagonal cross-bars -and thirteen white stars. We used it later to bury Johnny Grant. He -died of a delayed gas hemorrhage. - -The larger towns were deserted. We saw only one man in Danville. A -scrawny, long-haired weasel skulking through the ruins of what had once -been an A & P supermarket. Bruce MacGregor took a shot at him, but I -knocked his rifle up. The bullet whistled over the man's head, and he -scurried away like a sick, desperate rabbit. I knew there was a G.O. -to shoot all looters on sight, but the time had passed, I told Mac, to -concern ourselves with such trivialities. Ammunition was too precious. - -And, anyway, if he didn't find the buried provisions, maybe the enemy -would. - -The seventh night out, we camped in the woods north of Bardstown, just -a few yards off what had once been a main highway. I was beginning -to smell smoke. Tomorrow we would join the main garrison, get fresh -clothing and equipment and be assigned our duties in the projected -offensive. That is, I suppose, why I was sleepless. - -We had stumbled across a deserted tobacco shed the day before. The -brown leaves were old, parched, crumbling, but it was better than the -hay-and-alfalfa mixture they had given us up North. I rolled myself a -cigarette and was sitting by the side of the road when suddenly I heard -it. The sound of an approaching automobile. - -A moment later moonlight glinted on metal; I saw it picking its slow, -lightless way over the cracked asphalt. My heart leaped. This must be -a car from Louisville. I ran down to the road, stood waiting eagerly. -It approached at a snail's pace, but in the gloom the driver must have -had all he could do to watch the road without keeping an eye peeled for -vagabond troops, for when, as it came beside me, I cried a greeting -and reached for the door, there came a startled sound from within, the -motor roared stridently, and the car leaped forward, almost wrenching -my arm from its socket. - -Somehow I managed to hold on, though the automobile bounced and jarred -crazily as it struck deep ruts in the roadbed. My head glanced metal -and I saw whirling stars. "Hey!" I yelled. "What the almighty hell are -you trying to do! Take it easy!" - -Brakes squealed; the car jolted to a stop. And from the interior a -voice, high-pitched with relief, cried: - -"You--you're an American! Thank Heaven!" - -Then a slim form collapsed suddenly over the wheel. I yanked the door -open, dragging the unconscious driver from the cab. He must be, I -thought, wounded. He must be-- - -But it wasn't a "he" at all. As the body fell back limply over my arm, -a campaign hat tumbled earthward. Soft brown hair cascaded from beneath -it. The driver was a girl! - -I had ammonia tubes in my first-aid kit. I snapped one beneath her -nose, jolted her back to awareness. And she proved her femininity by -coming out of it with a question on her lips. - -"Who--who are you?" - -"O'Shea," I said, "commanding a detachment from the Army of the Upper -Ohio. Marching to join Preston's brigade at Louisville. But never mind -that. Who are _you_? Where do you think you're going?" - -She said, "Louisville!" In the darkness her face was a white blur, -drab, expressionless, but there was a touch of hysteria to her voice. -"Louisville! But haven't you got a radio? Didn't you know--" - -We hadn't. It didn't make sense. As she faltered, I snapped, "Know -what? Go on!" - -"Louisville has fallen. The Toties have taken Fort Knox. Our troops are -destroyed, the government has fled, and the Army of the Democracies is -in utter rout!" - -I stared at her numbly. In the black of the woods a nightjar screamed a -single, discordant taunt.... - - - III - -The commotion had roused most of the others. Quiet forms in the -midnight, they had drifted to the road. Wilson spoke now. He said, -"That's the end, then. If she's right, Brian, the war is over. And -we've lost." - -I said to the girl, "How about it?" - -She shook her head. - -"I'm afraid so. The last reports I heard, they had seized the -Mississippi, cut all contact between our Eastern and Western armies. -The Japs control California and Nevada. There was a terrific battle -being waged at Albuquerque. The Russian navy holds the Great Lakes. -Everywhere you hear the same story." - -Pelham-Jones demanded harshly, "St. Louis? Did you hear anything -about--?" - -"Wiped out to a man. It was caught in a vise. The Germans from the -east, the Italians from the north." - -Pelham-Jones said, "I see," quietly. He turned away. His shoulders -looked heavy. He had a younger brother at St. Louis. Van Huys looked at -the girl suspiciously. - -"How do we know she's telling the truth, O'Shea? It may be more lies. -She may be a Totie spy." - -I said, "You have your dent?" - -She nodded and handed it to me. I flashed my light on it. It was -authentic, all right. The picture on the tiny metal identification tag -was an image of her; the name beneath was _Maureen Joyce_. She was -tagged as a WAIF, a member of the Women's Auxiliary Intelligence Force. -I gave it back to her. - -"Very good, Miss Joyce. Sorry. We can't afford to take chances, -though. You understand, I'm sure. But--" My curiosity made me exceed -my authority. "But what are you doing here? Surely you wouldn't be -attempting to escape the Toties in this direction? If they hold the -east?" - -She hesitated for a moment. Then, carefully, "I am acting under orders, -Captain O'Shea. They were supposed to be _secret_ orders. But in view -of what has happened--" She made up her mind. "It would be better for -more than one to know. In case--in case anything should happen to me. - -"You've heard of Dr. Mallory?" - -"Thomas Mallory?" I said. "The physicist? The one who pestered the -daylights out of the government about some crack-brained invention -during the early days of the war? Is he the one you mean?" - -"Yes. The government isn't too sure, now, that it acted wisely in -refusing to listen to his plan. But you know how it was for a while. -Miracle men flooded the War Department with fantastic ideas for -'smashing the enemy.' - -"Only, in this last extremity, the War Department decided to -investigate Mallory's claim. As a last resort. I was commissioned to -find him, bring him to Louisville. But now--" Uncertainly. "Now I don't -know just what I ought to do. Even if he has a plan, and a good one, -there is no one to whom we can communicate it." - - * * * * * - -Surprisingly, it was Danny Wilson who interrupted. - -"Except," he said suddenly, "us!" He turned to me. "Brian, it would be -suicide for us to go on to Louisville--and there's no place else to go. -We might as well make this our job. We have everything to gain, nothing -to lose." - -"Do you," I asked the girl, "know where Mallory is?" - -"Only roughly. Somewhere in the hills of the upper Cumberland. I plan -to comb the neighborhood--" - -The Kentuckian, Joe Sanders, edged forward. - -"Don't need to do no combin'," he drawled. "Reckon I c'n help. This -yere Mall'ry--he a big man? White hair? Red complected?" - -"Why--why, yes. I believe so." - -"Mmm. Figgered it'd be the same one. I know him. Usta fish near his -place when I was a colt. He come there in the summertime, big house in -Cleft Canyon on Mount Rydell. I 'member we usta call him the 'devil -Doc,' 'count of there was alluz queer goin's-on at his place. Well, -Cap'n?" - -He squinted at me. I weighed the chances briefly. It was probably a -wild goose chase. On the other hand, it was useless, as Danny had -pointed out, to throw our little force against the might of the Toties -who now held Fort Knox. And there was a faint, insane possibility that -Dr. Mallory had a 'plan'--an invention, maybe--that would enable us -to form the nucleus of a new army that, reorganized, would sweep the -invaders from our land.... - -"We'll do it!" I said. "We'll march at dawn!" - -We had to leave the car there on the road and strike out across -country. It was the shortest and safest way to Cleft Canyon. Now that -the Toties had made a clean sweep of the East, the roads were no longer -open to us. As in Mexico five years ago, as in Ontario, the Maritimes, -the New England States year before last, as in Illinois last year, -floods of Totie scavengers were pouring through the conquered land in a -series of "mop up" operations. - -Time and again aircraft droning over our heads sent us scurrying to -cover. Once a flight surprised us in an open field. That's when we lost -Johnny Grant and three other men. Nearby woods saved the rest of us. - -Before we abandoned the car, I had the men strip it of everything we -could possibly use. Upholstery, tires, all electrical accessories, -including the televise. It was this last that kept us going, kept our -spirits aflame with determination, even when the trail was hardest. -Wherever we spun the dial we found the ether crackling with the boasts -of the enemy; each scene pictured on the plate was one calculated to -tighten the already grim jaws of my men. - -The Totie banner floated everywhere. It was a blood-red flag; in the -center was a quartered circle. In each of these segments was a symbol -of one of the four totalitarian states that had welded to form the -Totie army. Swastika and crimson sun, side by side with the Italian -fasces and Soviet hammer-and-sickle. The Big Four that, irresistibly -combined, had ground the principles of democracy under foot. - -It made me bitter, but it made me heart-sick, too. I could not help -wondering how, or why, my father and those of his generation had been -so blind as not to see the shadow of the inevitable creeping toward -them. - -Surely they must have known, as early as 1940, that Sweden would not be -the last neutral to be drawn into the conflict? Even then there must -have been rumblings in the Balkans, on the Mediterranean? Did they not -guess that Italy and Russia were just waiting until the hour was ripe, -that Japan's leisurely conquest of China was a mere military exercise -to keep Nippon warmed up until the day should arrive for a blow at the -Pacific Islands? - -My own country was perhaps the worst offender. Had it not been told -by a wise man, centuries before that, "In Union there is Strength?" -Yet America, like Switzerland and Portugal, Greece and Egypt, played -ostrich. Hoping against all sane hope that each succeeding conquest -would so weaken the Toties that the few actively fighting democracies -could win out in the end. - -I remember, as a child, the gleeful shouting in the streets of -America when news reached us across the Atlantic that Hitler had been -assassinated. I remember my father saying to a neighbor, "That's the -last of the mad dogs. Stalin and Mussolini are gone; now Hitler. -There'll be an armistice within a month. After that--" - -I wonder if Dad ever thought of that when he fought with his regiment -at Buffalo. The true facts must have come to him as a series of -staggering blows. The sudden collapse of the Franco-British union when -Russia and Italy, selecting their moment with diabolic accuracy of -timing, threw their support to Germany. The three mad dogs were dead, -yes, but four younger, madder dogs took their place. Himmler, Ciano, -Molotov, and Kashatuku. The crushing of India, the rape of Africa, the -shadow of the crimson banner stretching across the Atlantic Ocean to -touch Brazil. - -It was too late then to evoke the Monroe Doctrine. Too late to throw -defenses about our own shore line. Canada owned but a shell of its -former man power, Mexico was a hotbed of Totie sympathizers. Our -militia was unready, theirs fired for twelve years in the flaming -crucible of war. - -These were not pleasant memories I had as our small band marched -toward Mallory's hide-out in the hills. But I could not escape them. -I, myself, had witnessed the siege of New York, had seen Philadelphia -blown to shards by the mighty Armada that swept up the Delaware, had -heard the last, defiant cry of the defenders of Los Angeles-- - - * * * * * - -_Unfortunately, here a portion of the manuscript is missing. To Brian -O'Shea the events mentioned must have been so commonly known as to -render unnecessary the mentioning of specific dates. Dr. Winslow places -the probable date of the invasion of the United States at 1959, but -this may vary as much as two years, one way or the other._ - -"--low!" warned Sanders. "I don't think he's seen us!" - -Danny's eyes had widened; he was pointing eastward. - -"He's not looking for us! There's what he's waiting for. Look! An -American plane!" - -I was soaked to the skin, cold and miserable. The damned Totie scout -might, I found myself thinking unreasonably, have waited just five more -minutes before sneaking up over the horizon. Five more minutes and -we would have finished fording this stream, would be up the rise and -through the tangle of elm that Joe Sanders claimed concealed the place -that was our destination. - -Beside me, Maureen sneezed. The poor kid was wet, bedraggled. I -don't know how she contrived to still appear beautiful under such -circumstances. Somewhere behind me, I heard the snick of a breech-bolt. -I turned in time to find LeBrun raising his rifle. I slapped it down. - -"No, you idiot!" - -He looked sulky. - -"He's low, O'Shea. I can lay one in his gas tank." - -"And if you miss," I hissed, "you'll have the whole damned Totie army -down around our ears. We've come this far without being caught. We'll -take no risks now." - -Still, I knew how he felt. It was rotten to crouch there, knee-deep in -icy mountain water, concealed by a vault of foliage, watching one of -our planes--one of what must be a very, very few of our planes--drive -blindly into the path of a hedge-hopping Totie fighter that had spotted -its prey and was now waiting for it. - -Then, suddenly, there was the roar of motors. The American plane had -come within range. The Totie plane broke from concealment, spun skyward -in a swift, dizzying burst of motion. White puffs broke from its nose -seconds before our ears caught the spiteful chatter of machine-gun fire. - -It caught the American flyer off guard. Something broke from his left -wing, flapped crazily in the wind, as he jammed his plane--more by -instinct than anything else--into a dive. The Totie was on his tail -in an instant. And we stood there, helpless, watching a sweet, if -one-sided, air battle. - -The Totie plane was superior, of course. But our pilot was a master. -Time and again he wriggled out from under the other's nose just as it -seemed he would be riddled into fragments. Once he managed to climb -high enough to try a few shots of his own, but the Totie Immelmanned, -was back on his tail before he could even get his sights trained. - -It ended as suddenly as it had begun. One minute they were spiraling -for position, whirling around each other like a pair of strange, -snarling dogs. The next there came a thin streamer of smoke from the -tail of the American plane; a streamer that thickened to a cloud as we -watched, became flame-shot black, choking, menacing. - -The Totie fired a final burst into the damaged plane. It went into a -spin. Something dark appeared from a gap over the fuselage, it was -the pilot climbing free. For what seemed an endless moment he poised -there, then he was a brown chip on the blue breast of the sky, a chip -that hurtled headlong to earth. Beside me Maureen gasped; I felt her -shoulder tense against mine. - -Then a white mushroom blossomed suddenly; I choked a word of profanity -that somehow I didn't mean to be profane. The parachute, bloated with -air, zigzagged languidly to the ground. The pilot was halfway down when -his plane crashed. Flames leaped in a wooded thicket across the rise. -The Totie airman circled several times. Then, apparently content, he -gunned his ship, disappeared northward. - -MacGregor frowned. "They must be confident. First Totie I ever saw who -didn't gun a parachuter." - - * * * * * - -We left our hiding place, then; broke into the open where the -caterpillar could see us. He was a good flyer. He sighted us, played -his cords expertly, and landed less than an eighth of a mile from -where we had gathered. A couple of our men helped him fight down the -still-struggling 'chute; he kicked himself loose from the straps and -approached me. - -"Won't have any more use for that," he said ruefully. "You're the -leader here? My name's Krassner. Jake Krassner. Fourth Aerial Combat." - -I introduced him around. Danny Wilson said eagerly, "Did you say the -Fourth? I knew a guy flew with them. Name of Tommy Bryce. From Hoboken. -You know him?" - -Krassner shook his head. He had hard, black eyes, a little close. Crisp -hair. Broad shoulders. He was a good-looking chap. A little haughty, -maybe. But airmen are like that, especially to ground-huggers. - -"I'm sorry. Our personnel has changed a lot. Lately," he added grimly. -He looked at me. "I seem to have picked a hell of a place to get shot -down, Captain. What on earth are you doing in this desolate spot?" - -Van Huys chuckled, and Joe Sanders grinned. - -"Don't look like much from topside, eh, Krassner? I figgered it -wouldn't. The old man's a fox. He spent more than twenty years givin' -this hide-out the damnedest coat of natch'ral camouflage you ever seen." - -"Old man?" said Krassner curiously. "Camouflage?" - -Maureen touched my arm. She whispered, "Maybe you had better not tell -him, Brian. It's our secret--" - -I started to tell her what the hell. He was one of us, and there were -mighty few of us left. We needed all the men we could get. And Krassner -looked like a man. I didn't get a chance to say any of this, though. -For as we talked, we had continued to follow Sanders. Joe was now -picking his way confidently through an opening in the tangle of foliage. - -Sunlight dimmed as we entered a huge, cleared space entirely roofed by -an interwoven network of boughs. In this space was a wide, rambling, -one-story house, adjoined by a number of inexplicable sheds. And on the -veranda of the house stood a man I recognized instantly. It was Dr. -Thomas Mallory. - - - IV - -Mallory made us welcome. More than that, he seemed positively delighted -that we had come. He showed anxiety on only one point. - -"No one saw you come here, Captain? You're sure of that?" - -"Positive," I told him. - -"Good!" He called, and assistants came from inside to lead my men -to quarters. I was surprised, as well as a little shocked and -disappointed, to discover the number of women attached to Dr. Mallory's -household. There were a few men, but for the most part he seemed to -have surrounded himself with girls. Not only that, but with young and -pretty girls! - -But this was no time to sit in judgment on a man's morality. We had an -important mission. Maureen broached the subject as soon as we three -were rid of the others. - -"You must know why we're here, Dr. Mallory. We did not find this place -by chance. We came because you are the last hope of our country. Too -late, the government realizes it needs the invention you offered it -five years ago." - -Mallory shook his head sadly. - -"I'm sorry, my child--" - -"You can't refuse, Doctor!" I broke in. "Don't you understand? The -Toties overrun all the Americas. Democracy is dead unless--" - -He raised a weary hand. - -"Then democracy is dead, O'Shea. Not even I can restore its life. I -can say only one thing; I am glad from the bottom of my heart that the -government refused to listen to me when first I approached the War -Department with my plan." - -"Glad? Why?" - -"Because I was guilty of that which a scientist must ever dread. I -jumped to a hasty conclusion, based on insufficient evidence. My -conclusion was wrong, my plan--" He sighed, turned toward a door. "But -come. I will show you." - - * * * * * - -He led the way from his office into an adjoining room; a laboratory, -spotless, white-gleaming. About the walls of the laboratory were a -number of cages. In some of these were small animals; I saw monkeys, -guinea pigs, a squirrel, rabbits. Some were active, eating, shuffling -about, looking at us with bright, inquisitive eyes. Others lay -apparently asleep. - -But these I noticed with some remote part of my mind. For the focal -point of attention was a glass-walled case in the center of the room; -a topless case in which lay the body of a man. Maureen started. She -said, "Dead, Doctor?" - -"He is not dead," replied Mallory somberly. "He is the result of my -dreadful error of judgment. These others--" He nodded toward the -cages. "--were the experiments that misled me. This man, one of my -assistants who trusted me and was daring enough to become my first -human experiment, sleeps. How long he will continue to sleep, I cannot -guess. But it may be for one, two, or even more decades!" - -"Sleeps!" I said. But Maureen, with a flash of that swift intuition I -had seen before, guessed the answer. She said, "Anaesthesia! That was -your plan, Dr. Mallory!" - -"Yes, my child. That was my plan. I am a scientist, but five years ago -I was sociologist enough to recognize that the United States could not -match the power of the Totalitarians. I realized, even then, that the -ending we have seen come to pass was inevitable. I set myself the task -of finding a way to meet the impending menace. - -"I found the answer in a new form of anaesthetic. I will not tell you -its formula. It is a dismal failure--but that I did not know. I thought -it was a great success. When I permitted small animals--those you see -before you--to inhale some of the delicate granules--" - -"Granules, Doctor?" - -"Yes. It was a revolutionary means of inducing unconsciousness. When -I permitted the animals to inhale these granules, they fell into a -soft, deep, harmless slumber. I timed their periods of sleep carefully, -discovered the anaesthetic rendered them senseless over periods ranging -from one to two weeks. - -"It was then, heady with success, I offered my plan to the government. -It was, I thought, so simple. Our planes would scatter the granules -over enemy terrain--" He laughed shortly, mirthlessly. "--and the enemy -would fall into deep slumber. While they were thus incapacitated, our -men, garbed in specially constructed suits, wearing protective masks, -could walk amongst them, disarm them, imprison them. The war would be -ended bloodlessly--" - -I stared at him incredulously. I said, "But--but if it really works -that way, Dr. Mallory, that is the weapon we need!" - -"Yes, my boy. But it doesn't work that way. I have told you I made an -error in judgment. I assumed that Man, being a higher animal than those -on which I experimented, would experience the same, or a slightly less -drastic reaction than that experienced by the animals. I did not take -into consideration the fact that Man is also a more highly integrated -animal. That he is weaker, in some respects. - -"When Williamson, here, volunteered to become a human guinea pig, I -accepted his offer. I exposed him to the granules. He breathed deeply, -fell asleep--" Dr. Mallory shook his head. "And that was more than four -years ago. He still sleeps!" - - * * * * * - -I said, "I understand now, Doctor, why you consider your plan a -failure. But you speak as a scientist and a humanitarian who would -shudder at seeing thousands of men sleep for a decade. I am a soldier. -I have met War face to face, and have learned, by bitter experience, -that there is no weapon too dreadful to use if the results are -satisfactory. - -"What if your granules _do_ put the Toties to sleep for years instead -of days? Isn't that better than seeing our countrymen die beneath -the sword of the aggressor? Unless we act swiftly, this war is over. -Freedom, liberty, equality of men, all the things we believe in, are -doomed. But there is yet time to equip a few of our troops with the -suits and masks you speak of, turn loose your slumber-granules to the -winds. - -"Even though thousands of our own men share the sleep of the enemy, we -can go through with the disarmament program you planned. When our foes -awaken, a decade hence, they will have lost their leaders and their -war. When our friends waken we will take them, triumphantly, to the -homes and cities we have rebuilt while they slumbered." - -Dr. Mallory said, "I wish it were as simple as that, O'Shea. But -there is one other thing you do not know. The granules that are my -anaesthetic are more than mere granules. They are spores. Worse--they -are self-propagating spores!" - -He pointed to a trebly barred and locked door opening on one wall of -the laboratory. For the first time there was nervousness in his voice. - -"There is a storeroom beyond that door, O'Shea. In that storeroom, -quiescent in sterile containers, lie spores. Countless thousands, -millions of them. They are the granules I made for the government -before I discovered their real nature. There lies beyond that door a -weapon potent enough to end this war immediately--" - -He paused suddenly. We had all heard it, the squeak of a worn hinge, -the shuffle of a footstep. I motioned Mallory to silence, tiptoed to -the office door and flung it open. - -The aviator, Krassner, stood there. He was smiling. He said, "Ah, there -you are, Captain! I was looking for you. I wanted to ask if--" - -"How long have you been here?" I asked angrily. - -"How long? Why--just a minute or so. I--" - -"Were you listening to our conversation?" - -He stiffened; a flush highlighted his cheek bones. - -"I beg your pardon, sir!" he said. - -"Because, if you were--" Dr. Mallory was beside me, his hand was on my -arm. I hesitated. There was no sense in being so violently suspicious. -I said, "Well, never mind. Go back to your quarters, Krassner. I'll be -with you shortly." - -"Very good, sir!" He saluted, turned and stalked from the office, a -picture of affronted honor and dignity. I felt somewhat ashamed of -myself. - -Mallory said, "It really doesn't matter whether he heard us or not, -O'Shea. What I was about to say is, there lies beyond that door a -weapon potent enough to end the war immediately--but it must never be -used. For once loosed to the winds, those abominable spores would not -only end this war, they would still all animal life on the face of -Earth. I have said they were self-propagating. Each new generation of -spores would deepen the slumber into which mankind had been soothed by -the first--" - -I said, "But why keep them, Doctor?" - -"I don't quite know, O'Shea. Perhaps I have done so because I am, at -heart, more emotional than a true scientist should be. Perhaps I have -a secret fear that there may come a day when I shall be forced to play -God, give mankind its release from the chains of the tyrant." - -Maureen shuddered. - -"No, Doctor! You mustn't even think of that. Things look black now, but -they can't go on like this forever. Right and truth and liberty will -prevail in the end. There must be some other way to escape--" - -"There is," said Dr. Mallory quietly. "There is another way. A plan I -have been working on ever since the failure of my first. There is one -last refuge to which they cannot follow us." - -I said, "I don't understand, Doctor. Do you mean Antarctica?" - -His grave eyes captured, held mine. - -"No," he said. "A place more remote than even that. I mean, O'Shea--the -moon!" - - * * * * * - -I knew, then, suddenly and with a great, overwhelming despair, that our -journey to Cleft Canyon had been a vain one. As a last resort we had -sought the hidden laboratory of one who had been a great scientist. We -had found a madman. - -I said, "Maureen--" and I suppose there was regret in my voice. - -But Mallory stopped me. "A moment, O'Shea. I'm not insane. Nor is my -plan--as you undoubtedly think--impossible. Did you ever hear the name -of Frazier Wrenn?" - -The name was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it. Maureen could, -and did. She said, curiously, "Isn't he the traitor who disappeared -from Earth with a group of followers? Years ago? From a laboratory out -west somewhere?" - -"Yes, my dear. In 1939. From Arizona. But whether he and his tiny band -were traitors is something future generations must decide. Wrenn hated -war; foresaw what must come of Earth's second Armageddon. He fled -Earth, his destination was the planet Venus, his purpose to maintain, -on that wild colony, a vestige of culture and civilization until -Earth's feverish self-destruction should end." - -Mallory sighed. "We do not know what has become of Wrenn's expedition. -There has been no remotest sign, no signal--" - -I said, "Venus! But, Doctor, that means _spaceflight_!" - -"Yes, Brian. I was to have been a member of that gallant party. But I -was delayed in reaching their Arizona rendezvous, and their departure -was hastened by an unexpected attack. They left without me. But, -fortunately, Wrenn had confided in me the plans for his spaceship. For -years, now, with what scraps of metal I could steal from a war-ridden, -metal-hungry humanity, I have been secretly building a small duplicate -of the _Goddard_. - -"You wonder where it is hidden? Our Kentucky hills conceal great -caverns, Brian. There is one beneath the hill on which this house -stands. Below us--as I will show you shortly--is a gigantic cave. In it -is my almost completed craft." - -I had not noticed that Maureen's hand was in mine until I felt its soft -whiteness tense within my grasp. She cried, "But why the moon, Dr. -Mallory? Why not follow the Wrenn expedition--?" - -"You ignore a major factor, my dear. Celestial mechanics. Wrenn's -flight was planned for a time when Venus and Earth were in conjunction. -Such is not the case now. Earth approaches the Sun, while Venus is at -aphelion. And my craft is, as I have said, but a small copy of Wrenn's. -Moreover, I have been able to collect only a small amount of fuel. - -"There is only one body within our cruising range--Earth's moon. It is -my dream that we shall go there--" - -I had been listening silently, stunned. Now I came to my senses. - -"No, Doctor! I can listen to no more. You forget I am a soldier of the -United States army." - -"The government has fallen; the last of the democracies is crushed -beneath the conqueror's heel, Brian, lad." - -"It will rise again. In the hinterlands--" - -"--are Totalitarian troops." - -"There are still eighty million Americans--" - -"And a hundred million aggressors!" He put a hand on my shoulder. -"Don't you see, Brian, this is how you can best serve your country? -Make this flight with me. We will take your men and my followers--two -score men and the women you have already seen--and form a colony on the -Moon. - -"We will return, then, secretly, for more Americans. And more, and -more. We will transfer our democracy to a new soil, there grow in -strength and power and wisdom until some day we can reclaim our -heritage." - -Despite my training, I could not help but be convinced. I said, shaken, -"But astronomers tell us the Moon is a barren, lifeless world?" - -"For the most part, it is. But the Caltech telescope indicates that air -still lingers in the depths of the hollow craters. And in underground -caverns. Water can be synthesized. It will be no easy existence, but it -will be--" - -"The ultimate salient!" breathed Maureen at my side. "The last line of -defense for freedom's children! Brian, Dr. Mallory is right! We must do -this thing!" - -He looked at me hopefully. "Well, Brian O'Shea?" - -I took a deep breath. "When does our flight depart?" - - - V - -At Dr. Mallory's suggestion, I did not tell my men too much about our -plans. "With so much at stake, O'Shea," he said, "the less they know -the better it will be." - -But they did not ask to know much. They were good men; they trusted me. -And if they chafed a little at the enforced idleness of the next week, -the rest must have been a welcome surcease from months of fighting. -Only one man failed to share their calm acceptance of my orders. -Krassner. He told me, sulkily, "There's something going on around here, -O'Shea. And, damn it, I have a right to know what it is. As a fellow -officer--" - -"I respect your brevet, Krassner," I told him somewhat curtly, "but for -the present I must ask you to remember that you are attached to this -division through courtesy only, and have no authority. In a few more -days, now, I will be at liberty to explain everything." - -He had to be satisfied with that. Though it was the nature of the -man to be snoopy; several times he was observed prowling around the -grounds, searching some clue as to Doctor Mallory's well-concealed -secret. - -He was chasing a will-o'-the-wisp, of course. A man might have searched -for months without finding the entrance to Mallory's underground -workshops. Mallory admitted Wilson and St. Cloud, my lieutenants, to -his confidence. He took us to the cavern wherein was being constructed -the spaceship. - -The gateway to the depths was that which appeared to be a -photographer's dark-room. Once inside, Mallory pressed certain carved -ornaments, the entire farther wall slid back, and there stretched -before us a smooth, well-lighted passage leading downward at a gentle -incline. - -We must have followed this more than a half mile before we debouched -into the main cavern; a mighty, vaulted chamber, a huge bubble of -emptiness blown in the solid mountain centuries ago when Earth was in -the travail of making. - -But it was not this natural wonder that made me gasp. I had seen -others; I had, indeed, once taken refuge for four weeks with the Ninth -Artillery in Luray. That which brought an exclamation to my lips was -the shimmering monster braced on an exoskeleton of girders in the -middle of the chamber. A gigantic, tear-shaped rocketship, stern jets -lifted some feet off the ground, streamlined nose pointing at the roof -of the cave. - -About it, in and around it, sweating men fretted, worried, labored, -like so many restless bees. Here the brief chatter of a riveting -machine woke snarling echoes as a final plate was welded into place; -there a master electrician wove an intricate network of wires into some -obscure purpose. In still another place, a strong-thewed gang trundled -seemingly endless trains of supplies into the ship's capacious holds. - -Dr. Mallory smiled at the expressions on our faces, and there was -pardonable pride in his smile. - -"There, my friends," he said quietly, "is the _Jefferson_." - -"_Jefferson?_" repeated Maureen wonderingly. - -"Named for him who, in our country's infancy, wrote down in blazing -words the principles on which all democracy is based. The inherent -right of men to enjoy life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. -Once his words showed us the way. Now his name shall lead us to a new -civilization." - -"Amen!" said Danny Wilson piously. Then, "Now can we have a look at -her? I mean _him_, Doctor?" - -Knowing every nook and cranny, berth and hold, turret and gun-chamber -of the _Jefferson_ as I do now, it is hard to remember my feelings -on that day when first I strode her permalloy decks. Even so, I can -recall the vast wonder that engulfed me as Dr. Mallory led us through -the ship, pointing out the engines, the control-rooms, the Spartan -simplicity of the living quarters, the well-equipped kitchen and -compact storage bins. There was much I did not understand until long -afterward. Permalloy itself was a novelty to me. The metal had been -invented, Mallory said, by a German scientist. One of the old school. A -Doktor Eric von Adlund. - -"I do not know what has become of him. Perhaps he, like the other -peace-loving great of his race, has long since been liquidated by the -Totalitarians." - - * * * * * - -So said Dr. Mallory sadly. And he tried to explain the operation of the -small, inconceivably powerful, atomic motors, the invention of Frazier -Wrenn. It was a concept so novel, yet so simple, that it staggered -us all. But I could see how, without first having a knowledge of the -heretofore unknown element _inektron (the spelling of this important -word seems to have confused Brian O'Shea. In the manuscript it is -incomprehensibly scribbled. Dr. Winslow suggests the philological -similarity of such words as_ "inertron" _and_ "inactron"? _NSB_) man -might never have discovered the long-sought power of the atom. - -St. Cloud, frankly at sea as regarded scientific matters, was delighted -with the military efficiency of the ship. I could see his fingers -yearning for the lanyard of one of the rotor-guns installed in the fore -and aft turrets. He liked, too, the foreman who came over to meet us. - -"How many men have you working here below?" he asked. - -Myers, the supervisor, told him twenty-three. "And there are twenty -women topside," he grinned. "Doc says we're going to a brutal frontier. -But if the women can stand it, we can. A man can do lots of impossible -things with his wife at his side." - -I understood, then, the number of girls I had seen above ground, and -regretted my hasty judgment of Dr. Mallory's character. I might have -realized that he did nothing without purpose. He had seen--as I saw -now--that without something, some_one_, to fight for, the men of our -little colony-to-be could easily lose heart. He was assuring our -venture against all eventualities. - -I was glad, suddenly, that Maureen was beside me. I wondered if she -felt the same way. - -Danny Wilson voiced a problem that had puzzled me. - -"But this cavern, Doctor? Aren't you like the man who, in his spare -time, built a yacht in his cellar? How are we ever going to get this -monster out of here?" - -Mallory said placidly, "When the hour comes, we will burst from this -cavern like a moth from its chrysalis. You have not yet witnessed the -power of our atomic beams. - -"One thrust of blinding energy from the forward jets and we will shear -an exit through the tons of solid rock and earth that now conceal us. -Before we leave--" He looked at me significantly. "--we will destroy -the buildings above ground. Including that one, sealed chamber that no -man must ever open. - -"The Totalitarians will have no way of guessing who we were, what we -did here, or where we have gone. And even if they should guess, they -would be powerless to follow us." - -His voice was low, vibrant, anticipatory. - -"Your men and mine, Brian O'Shea, we hundred odd will establish the -first base on Luna. Then there will be other trips to Earth, gathering -more converts to our cause. The day will come when we will match our -conquerors in strength. And then--" - -I said thoughtfully, "One more thing, Doctor. The _Jefferson_ is -supplied with water and provisions, yes. But if our number grows, we -will need our own farms and granaries. How are we to grow food in the -lightless grottoes of the moon?" - -He nodded sagely. - -"All that has been provided for, Brian, lad. I have overlooked nothing. -Chemical culture is possible. Trust me to take care of that problem -when it arises." - -Danny Wilson coughed apologetically. He said, "We do, Doc. But--but -I think I know what's in the back of Brian's mind. Suppose something -should--I mean--if anything might happen to you--?" - -"That, too, I have considered. There is a complete scientific library -in the aft turret. Science is no secret to the man who can read and -think." - -Danny's face lighted. He said beautifully, "A library! Golly! Books! -I haven't seen a book for nigh onto fifteen years. Except Field Code -manuals. There hasn't been much time for reading lately." - -"And that," said Mallory darkly, "is perhaps the greatest catastrophe -of this war. Reading men, thinking men, are happy men. They are not -concerned with the lust for conquest of anything save the unknown. Yes, -Wilson, there are books. And for those who seek light entertainment -there are even volumes of fiction. Magazines for amusement." - -"Magazines?" I said, puzzled. "Magazines for amusement? I don't see -anything funny in an armament warehouse." - -Mallory sighed. - -"Forgive me, O'Shea. I had forgotten your youth. There was a time, when -you were a toddling child, when 'magazines' were not always ammunition -bins. Publishers used to issue monthly periodicals, printed on paper, -bound in bright jackets, filled with stories. Exciting adventures in -sports, the West, tales of crime and its detection, fictionized hazards -as to the future of the world-- - -"Ah, but that was long ago. That was when paper was cheap and common. -When the vast mills of Norway and Denmark and Canada poured endless -rolls of pulp into our country." - -Danny said eagerly, "I'd like to see some of these here 'magazines,' -Doc. Could I?" - -"You may. Myers will help you select some from the storage bin, Wilson. -And now, my friends, if you are ready to return to the surface--?" - - * * * * * - -That, as I recall, was on the 29th day of July, 1963. Yes, I know -it was that day, because that was the date of the fall of Santa Fé. -We watched that battle through our televises; it was triumphantly -broadcast--a braggart deed in keeping with their boastful ways--by the -Toties. - -Albuquerque having fallen, General Bornot, commander of the Army of -the West, had withdrawn his forces to the old capital of New Mexico, -there to make a last, desperate stand. - -It was a valiant, but doomed, defense. The very fact that intimate -details of the battle were televised shows how vastly superior the -Totie forces were; their airplanes could fly without hindrance over our -lines, spying out resources, reserves, and the pitifully weak remnants -of our Army. - -Like our own demolished Eastern army, the westerners were a motley -crew. I saw French, English, Scandinavian and Canadian uniforms; loyal -Sikhs from India fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with kilted Scots; -swarthy refugees from Totie Mexico and Guatemala defending futile -breaches beside blonde, fair-skinned Icelanders. - -The main body of attackers stormed up from captive Albuquerque to the -south; these were the trained warriors of Japan, the yellow horde that -had ravaged California, Arizona and Utah and pressed eastward to meet -Kievinovski's command. The Russians came down from the north, cutting -off any avenue of escape through Taos. ("Once," Dr. Mallory told us -sadly, "Taos was the artistic center of the United States. Now but one -pigment flows there; the red of blood.") And Schneider's Army of the -Mississippi had swept westward through Arkansas and Oklahoma, leaving -nothing but waste and desolation behind them, to meet the other armies -at this last defense post of democratic gallantry. - -It was no battle at all, really; it was a slaughter. Our army had -refortified old Fort Marcy, earthworks built by General Kearny more -than a hundred years ago. Two divisions were quartered in the Garita, -the old Spanish headquarters. Thus they lay, more than four thousand -Democratic troops--waiting behind breastworks of earth and 'dobe for -the attack of armies whose artillery was built to blast steel and -concrete pill-boxes out of existence. - -Even so, the gallantry of their defense turned the blood in my veins -to electricity. They did not wait for the Toties to attack; they -carried the fight to the enemy. With the first, tentative shot from the -besiegers there came an answering blast from the besiezed. Then the -bedlam was on. - -Stream upon endless stream, the Toties flooded into the city. As they -did so, we--and the enemy--discovered that the spying televise had -not told the whole story. Windows opened to expose spitting, snarling -machine guns. Doorways gaped to expose light fieldpieces that poured -fiery death into the Toties. Fake walls split miraculously, from them -charged concealed troops of Americans, faces grim, guns flaming, -roaring, bayonets flashing. - -Guerrilla warfare became the order of the day. At street barricades -powder and flame were forgotten as men met face to face, looked with -stark eyes upon dripping steel. Americans and their allies fell, but -for each of them fell two, three, a half dozen of the invaders. The -scream of explosives was deafening, the street pictured on the metallic -screen before us was a shambles of blood; bodies lay asprawl like the -forgotten toys of a careless child. - -And--the televise screen went blank! - -Danny Wilson loosed a great cry of joy. "They're licked!" he roared. -"The dog-whelped cowards are licked! I never knew of them to turn off a -televised victory--" - -For five glorious minutes we shared his hope. Then the broadcast was -resumed, after a murmured comment about a "technical difficulty in -transmission"--and when again our eyes looked upon the streets of Santa -Fé, the picture had changed. - -Once more it was aircraft that had won the day. In the face of -impending disaster, the Toties had loosed the full power of their air -armada against the beleaguered forces. It did not matter to them that -their thermite bombs fell amongst their men as well as ours; that was a -hazard their hirelings had been trained to accept. Burst after flaming -burst rocked the streets of old Santa Fé, broken bodies were flung -brutally against shattered walls, doorways and windows emptied--and -there were no more defenders. Only fresh, unending troops of Toties -filling the gaps left by their fellows. - - * * * * * - -I saw the Garita fall, a flaming shambles; I saw an airplane swoop low -over breastworks hastily flung up at the _Puenta de Los Hidalgos_ and -wipe out a company of Americans. I heard the biting rasp of machine gun -fire, the staccato bark of anti-aircraft; once the visiplate before us -whirled giddily for an instant as the plane in which our broadcaster -rode narrowly escaped disaster. - -I saw the last great moment of Fort Marcy; the fall of the gates and -the horde of snarling Toties that rushed in, bayonetting all before -them; I saw the bayonet wielded that slashed the rope holding the -American flag to the flagpost. I saw the man who turned and raced to -that flagpost, grasped the ropes and held them taut as, for a moment -longer, the tattered ensign whipped out through the smoke and flame. - -Then I saw the bullet that found this unknown hero's breast; saw him -cough and loose his grasp, slip earthward as the flag above him tumbled -to the dirt. There was a look of hurt surprise in his eyes. Then I saw -no more, because my eyes were wet. And Dr. Mallory said, "There is -nothing more to see--" - -And turned off the televise. - - * * * * * - -Yes, that was the 29th day of July, 1963. I remember it well. For it -was after that I asked Mallory, "Do we go now? There is no reason to -delay." - -And he said, "We will leave in five days. By that time all will be in -readiness. And the third of August will be a day of good omen. It was -on that day, centuries ago, that a humble Portuguese sailorman with a -great dream sailed westward to the Indies and found a new world. - -"Like Chistofero Colon, we will select that date to set our course for -New America--" - -Maureen's hand tightened on mine. Krassner, who had been watching the -televise silently, gaped at us. - -"New course? Go? Go where?" - -"Skip it--!" I began. But Dr. Mallory stopped me. "No, I think it is -well the men should be told now, O'Shea. My helpers know. Your men, who -must be the fighters of our party, should be told where they are going." - -And he told them. It came as a stunning blow. Some of them looked -frightened; some, to be quite truthful, simply did not understand. -Others were openly incredulous. Among these was Krassner. He -epostulated, "But--but, O'Shea, this old fool must be insane! Flight to -the Moon! Absurd!" - -His eyes narrowed. - -"There's more to it than that. This is a trick of some kind I'll bet -it's tied up with that mysterious invention you've got hidden in your -closet--" - -I grasped him by the shoulder, whirled him about. - -"Then you _did_ hear us that day?" - -"Sure. I heard you. Is there anything wrong in that? I couldn't help -hearing you say you had a weapon that would end the war. If that's what -you've got, trot it out! That's a lot better than dying like rats on a -fool's expedition to the _Moon_! - -"Luna! Pah! I, for one, won't have anything to do with it--" - -I said hotly, "You damned fool, we can't open that closet. Don't you -realize--?" - -"Brian!" snapped Dr. Mallory. - -I shut up suddenly. Krassner looked at me, then at the old man -suspiciously. He snarled, "You reminded me once that I had no authority -over your command, O'Shea. Well, now I remind you that you have no -authority over me. I'm pulling out of here. I've had enough of this -insane secrecy and--" - -He started for the door. I said only one word. - -"Lars!" - -Lars Frynge, the towering Swede, had his revolver at Krassner's -midsection. He said amiably, "Ay tank maybe you batter lissen to -Captain, hey?" - -Krassner's face purpled. He bellowed, "This is the last straw, O'Shea. -Insulting an officer and an equal! By the gods, I'll--" - -He was right. He was an officer and an equal. But I was determined of -one thing. Go with us he would, whether he liked it or not. But in the -meanwhile-- - -"All right, Lars," I said. "Krassner, I'm sorry. I wasn't just trying -to throw my weight around. But think it over carefully, man. This means -a lot to all of us. You're at liberty to do what you will." - -He snorted and strode from the room. Danny Wilson cocked an eyebrow -at me; I nodded. Danny followed him. Maureen said nervously, "He's a -trouble-maker, Brian. I don't think we should trust him out of our -sight." - -"That's why Danny left us," I grinned. - -"And when we go, we should leave without him." - -"That," said Mallory, "is impossible. When we go, there must remain no -one behind to know where we have gone." - - * * * * * - -And there were five days left in which to finish all that had to be -done before our departure. Those were days of feverish excitement and -activity for all of us. Having been let into the secret, my men were -shown the way to the underground cavern. There they labored, side by -side with Mallory's helpers, to load the cargo, put the last finishing -touches on the _Jefferson_. - -We stripped the house; we gathered all forage from the barns and silos -and bins. We rolled cask upon cask of fresh spring water into the -holds. We locked and sealed the holds, one by one. - -Danny raised a fuss about that. He had found something new and -wonderful--something I meant to investigate myself as soon as the -opportunity permitted. The joy of reading fiction. - -"It--it's swell, Brian!" he told me. "Boy, I wish I'd lived in them -days when magazines was common. You ought to read some of them stories. -Sports and detective stories and--" He looked sort of sheepish. "The -ones I like best are science stories. Gosh, you'd be surprised, Brian. -Them old writers guessed sometimes pretty near what was going to happen. - -"There was a guy named Bender, or Binder, or something like that, who -guessed 'way back in '40, at the start of this war, that we'd get into -it. And there was another guy named Clinton who said the same thing--he -was nuts, though. He said the women would bust loose from the men and -set up their own government. - -"And those others, they predicted things like the spaceship we'll soon -be riding in. And television, and--" - -I said, "Those magazines must be plenty old." - -"They are. Ancient. But they're still fun. Brian, can't I sneak a few -of them into my berth instead of sealing them up in the library? Do you -think Doc would mind?" - -"I guess not," I told him. So he did just that. By the time he'd -finished robbing the library, it looked moth-eaten and there was -scarcely enough room in his berth for him to turn around in.... - -Those were full days and exciting ones, but pleasant. It is hard to -realize that we were living on the bright edge of grave calamity. Nor -did we know it until the eve of the day on which we were to take off. - -It started with a thin, high droning to the north. The familiar drone -of aircraft. As always, under these circumstances, Dr. Mallory sounded -the "Take cover!" signal, and everyone scurried to the shelter of the -camouflaged grove, there to wait until the danger should pass. - -But it did not pass. The droning came nearer, deepened in tone. And we -saw, through the leafy veil that concealed us, that it was not a single -plane that was approaching, nor a single flight--but a solid phalanx of -enemy aircraft! - -Even then we did not guess the dreadful truth. It was not until they -had come directly over us, swung into an involute loop and began -concentrating upon us, that we knew what was happening. Then we saw -something dark and ominous loose itself from the rack of one bomber; a -thin screaming filled the air--and in the woods to our right there came -a frightful blast! - -Earth shook beneath us, Maureen screamed needless words in my ear. - -"They're bombing _us_, Brian! They've found our refuge!" - - - VI - -There was only one thing that spared all of us in those next few -minutes. That was the fact that the Toties did not know _exactly_ where -we were. Somehow they had learned the approximate location of Dr. -Mallory's mountain hide-away, but not in vain had the aged scientist -spent twenty years nurturing plant life to form a perfect barricade of -concealment about the dim, squat buildings. From above, the wooded dell -that hid his laboratory must have looked like one of thousands such. - -Therefore they scattered their shots. One bomb exploded a quarter mile -from Mallory's house; I learned afterward that it killed two workmen -who had been laying in cordwood. Others exploded as far as five miles -away as the hive of lethal wasps eddied back and forth, bombing the -entire countryside with abandon. - -A thousand questions seethed through my brain, but there was no time -now to ponder the answers. No time to ask why, or how, the Toties had -learned of this place. I seized Maureen's elbow, half-led, half-dragged -her toward the laboratory. Above the crashing din I howled in her ear, -"To the cavern! That's the only safe--" - -The rest was lost in an ear-splitting thunderbolt. But she knew what I -meant. - -We were not the only ones who fled to the security of the house. -The lab was the lodestone toward which all we tiny, helpless motes -gravitated. By the time we reached it, the shaking walls were jammed -with soldiers, workers, women, who had sought refuge there. - -A few of these were itching for action. Such a one was Danny Wilson. -He was pleading with Mallory, "How about it, Doc? Just one of them -anti-craft guns? We can get it up here in no time." - -"No. They don't know just where we are, Wilson. A shot would locate us -definitely. We must remain silent and take our chances against a lucky -placement." - -Krassner, his handsome face oddly pale, clutched at Mallory's arm. - -"This cavern you were talking about, Mallory. Take us there! We'll all -be blown to bits--" - -Joe Sanders' nose wrinkled, he looked at the airman disgustedly, and -spat. Mingled with my own contemptuous reaction to Krassner's demand, -I felt a warming glow of pride in my men. Each of them had realized, -as had Maureen and I, that the only safe place was the underground -shelter. But each of them had wanted, before we took to that refuge, at -least one vengeful poke at the enemy. Quivering capitulation like this -rubbed them the wrong way. - -But Mallory, serene as ever, had already led the way to the secret -entrance. He pressed the knobs, the door swung open. I was beside -Krassner as he did so; I saw the look of surprise on the aviator's face -as he saw the long tunnel that fed to the depths beneath. I couldn't -restrain the taunt. - -"Thought Mallory was insane, eh, Krassner? Does this look like the work -of a madman?" - -He muttered something incoherent. Then Pelham-Jones, whose squad had -been quartered farthest from the main house, burst into the room -excitedly. - -"They're landing foray parties, Brian! How long will it take to get -everyone out of here?" - -I glanced at Mallory. He said, "Fifteen or twenty minutes, at least." - -"And to get the _Jefferson's_ motors started?" - -"Another ten." - -"Then," I snapped, "you'll need protection for a half hour. That's -what we're here for. Bruce, Rudy, Raoul, split your squads. Send half -below; have the others throw a cordon about the laboratory. If they're -dropping infantry, they'll have to stop bombing. By the time they find -us, the others will be below. Then we'll take to the cavern--" - -"Very good, sir!" They sprang into action. - - * * * * * - -The women continued to file singly into the small dark-room, pass -through the doorway into the tunnel. Maureen clutched my arm. - -"Brian, you don't have to stay up here. You're too important. You're -the leader. You've got to--" - -"--to stay with my men!" I told her quietly. And I did what I had been -wanting to do, but had never before dared. I took her, unresisting, -into my arms; kissed her. Her lips were warm against mine. Then I -pushed her toward the doorway. "Get down there. Don't worry about us. -If we hold our fire it will take them a long time to locate us. Danny, -where did Krassner go?" - -Danny grimaced. - -"That yellow mutt? Don't ask me. He's probably down there by now, -hugging a stalactite." - -"Well, to hell with him. Let's get going. And don't forget--don't fire -a shot unless they actually see us. We don't want to give our position -away." - -Mallory said quietly, "I'll herd them below as fast as I can, Brian. -When you hear the signal, bring your men on the double. But before -you leave the laboratory, you know what must be done?" He nodded -significantly toward the inner room, toward the trebly-barred door -that contained a world's fate. I nodded. - -"I know." - -The steady evacuation continued. I went outside again. As Pelham-Jones -had reported, the Tories were parachuting infantry to the ground. More -planes had reached the scene; the sky swarmed with them. And a mass -occupation was in progress; from each transport rumbled a steady stream -of dark figures that, like strange, winged insects, plunged out of -their humming cocoons, hurtled headlong toward Earth for a moment--then -suddenly grew filmy, white umbrellas that lowered them gently to the -ground. - -It was a random, haphazard occupation for the Toties _still_ had not -solved the secret of our exact location. But many--too many--were -dropping near our sheltered grove. It would not take them long, I knew, -to find us. - -Happily, the aerial bombardment had ceased with the dropping of the -infantry. That was good. No chance explosion would find the heart of -our refuge, destroy the lab and cut us off from the underground cavern. - -Approximately twenty of us remained above ground as defenders. I told -MacGregor, "Encircle the house. Defend it at all costs until you hear -Mallory's call--then hightail it for the tunnel. I've got something to -do inside." - -I went back to the door beyond which were concealed the lethal -anaesthetic spores. There were two barrels of oil there; we had placed -them there for the purpose I now carried out. I broke them open, -spilled their contents every which way. Now a single match would set -the house ablaze, destroy forever the danger Mallory had feared. I -would strike that match just before ducking into the tunnel myself-- - -A single, explosive crack sounded outside! A rifle had spoken! - - * * * * * - -That ripped it! With that shot there came a moment of macabre silence; -then the air was alive with an answering volley from the hills and -woods surrounding us. I raced out of the house, found Rudy Van Huys. I -roared angrily, "Who fired! Why? Good God, man, don't you realize--" - -His pink, chubby cheeks shook with anger to match my own. He said, "I -don't know, Brian. They hadn't spotted us until then. But now--" - -He didn't need to point to the forest; I could see the grey-green -uniforms sifting through the trees, closing in on us. The _spang!_ of -a Wentzler shrilled in my ears, spent lead splattered against the wall -behind me. All about us, now, rifle fire rasped and spat; I saw an -advancing Totie soldier stop short in his tracks, stagger, spin, and -fall, clutching his stomach with red hands that clawed. I heard a grunt -from one of the men beside me, saw his mouth form an astonished O and -an ugly, purple-black third eye appear magically in the middle of his -forehead. The back of his head.... - -Then came a welcome sound, a cry from Mallory. - -"All clear, O'Shea! Bring your men!" - -They came on the double. Not all of them. Half of them, maybe. Those -few minutes of gunfire, raking our fearfully exposed position, had cost -us. MacGregor, huge bear of a man, staggered around an ell of the house -carrying a still figure. Danny Wilson. I cried, "Mac, is he--?" - -"Bad, Brian! Mighty bad." MacGregor lumbered into the house with his -burden; the rest of the men followed him, lingering to throw last shots -into the advancing force before they disappeared. - -There remained, still, my most important task. Now the Toties had -apparently brought up several pieces of light artillery, for mingled -with the snap of musketry I heard the familiar coughing bark of -ordnance. Once the house shuddered and quaked, concussion deafened my -ear drums as a shell found us. But I sped down the empty corridors -toward the lab. Time was precious. All too soon the Toties would close -in on the house; before that I must toss my flame, race back to the -tunnel entrance. - -I burst into the room, at last, and-- - ---and stood aghast! I had only presence of mind to throw a shielding -arm across my face, hold my breath. For no longer was the closet -sealed. The bars had been smashed inward, the lock was a shard of -broken metal, the door a heap of splinters. The gods of chance had -tossed a die for our enemies. That shell I had heard--had found its -way into the granary of death! - -I had a momentary glimpse of the inside of the closet. I saw grey, -fungoid granules sifting through the broken door; a cloud whirled and -eddied toward me. To breathe that cloud meant oblivion. Beating at my -clothes, my hair, with suddenly frenzied fingers, I turned and fled -from the room. - -In the hallway I stopped, ignited the box of matches I carried, tossed -the blazing brand onto the oil-soaked floor. Flame licked hungrily -along those stained boards; the bright fire-flower grew before my eyes. -Even so, I knew my effort was in vain. The shell had entered through -the walls of the house, and even now I could see those spores of -slumber sifting out to float with the winds. - -An agonized cry brought me to my senses. Mallory's voice, "Brian! -Brian, lad--where are you!" - -I turned and fled toward the secret portal. I made it just in time. -The aged doctor and I were the last to enter the tunnel as the first -Totie set foot in the laboratory. Stumbling, panting, we raced down -that smooth slope to where the _Jefferson_ awaited us. A dull throbbing -wakened echoes in the hollow depths; eager hands helped us into the -air-lock. - -I heard Mallory gasp, "Take off! _Now!_" The humming deepened to a -frightful roar, the Niagara of powers beyond comprehension. I was dimly -aware of a cascade of broken rock smashing down about the _Jefferson's_ -permalloy casing, of an unearthly sheet of flame mirrored through -quartzite windows. Then a tremendous tug pulled me to my knees, my -lungs strained for precious air, blood danced before my eyes and there -was agony in my bones.... - - - VII - -Earth was a tremendous disc, swaddled in lacy veils of gleaming -white, when next I looked upon it from the control turret of the -_Jefferson_. I did not look for long. I had, when I turned my gaze -upon it, some vague idea of being able to determine (if nothing else) -broad continental outlines of the sphere from which we were roaring at -a speed which Mallory had told me was approximately 25,000 miles per -hour. - -But the sheen was so terrifically blinding that I had to shut my eyes. -Dr. Mallory, no longer so intent over his instruments now that he had -checked his course and found it satisfactory, noticed the movement, -reached over and turned the pane through which I had been looking a -quarter-turn in its grooved frame. Immediately the burning radiance -dimmed into murky grayness. - -"Earth-shine, Brian," he answered my unspoken query. "Our mother planet -is a great reflecting body. At this distance it is even more painful to -look upon with the naked eye than is the sun." - -Maureen said, "But the moon, Doctor? We don't seem to be moving toward -it?" - -"We aren't. It's moving toward us. Or perhaps I should say both it -and we are moving toward a mutual point in space where our paths will -intersect in--" He glanced at a chronometer and at his calculations. -"In a little less than eight and a half hours. - -"Before that, however. Brian," he turned to me seriously, "there will -be a few minutes that I am afraid will be rather uncomfortable for our -party. The period of absolute weightlessness when we reach the 'dead -spot'; the spot where the gravitational forces of Earth and its moon -are completely nullified by each other. - -"You might go below and warn everyone that this is to be expected. Bid -them not to be alarmed." - -Someone coughed apologetically at the turret door. It was St. Cloud. -His face was granitelike, but his eyes were haggard. He said, "Brian--" - -"Yes?" - -"It's Danny." - -"Danny? Is he--?" - -He nodded. "I'm afraid so. He'd like to see you." - - * * * * * - -I followed him swiftly down the ramp, through the corridors, and into -the sick bay. There were a half dozen of the men in there receiving -first aid treatment from one of Dr. Mallory's assistants. Wilson was in -one of the private wards off the main hospital room. - -He turned his head slowly as I entered, essayed a grin that froze, -suddenly, as a spasm shook him. But he said, in a low, husky voice, -"Hyah, Cap!" - -I said, "Hayah, yourself, soldier!" and motioned the others to get out. -The door closed softly behind them. "Got a blighty one, did you?" I -said. - -He said laboriously, "You wouldn't kid a guy, would you, Brian? I got -a west one this time." His hands plucked at the sheet covering him, -drew it down. Even the bandages had not been able to staunch that slow, -staining seepage. I drew the cover back again. - -"You're tough, Irish," I told him. "You'll get over that one before -breakfast." - -But I had a hard time saying it; the words rang false from my lips. I -was lying, and he knew it as well as I. He shook his head. - -"I don't much give a damn, Brian. I got the guy who done it, and a -couple others for good measure. There's only one thing I'm sorry about." - -"Yes, Irish?" - -"That story. It was about a guy named Kinniston. A Lensman. He was -in a hell of a jam. I'd like to have known if he got out." He said -plaintively, "I can't lift my hands, Brian, boy. They're so damned -weak...." - -I said, "One of those magazines? Where is it?" He nodded to the chair -beside his bed. I picked the thing up, found the place where he'd left -off. I started reading to him the story that had captured his fancy. -It wasn't easy. I hadn't read much of anything since I left military -training school at the age of thirteen. A lot of the words were -unfamiliar, and I guess I made pretty heavy weather of it. - -But he seemed to be enjoying it. He lay back on the pillows, breathing -hard, so intent on the adventures of this "Gray Lensman," printed in an -old and yellowed fiction book, that he almost forgot the icy fingers -closing in upon him. - -He only interrupted me once. That was to say suddenly, "Brian--it was -Krassner, you know." - -"What?" - -"He fired ... the shot." - -The shot that had betrayed us! I was reminded, forcibly, that I hadn't -seen Krassner aboard ship. I didn't know whether he'd made it or not. -But if he had-- - -"Go on ... Brian. Get him out of trouble before...." - -So I read on. It was weirdly strange, sitting there reading a story of -spaceflight adventure written twenty years ago. While we, ourselves, -soared the void in a craft bound for Earth's satelite. But I read on. -And it must have been ten minutes before I sensed something wrong. At -first I couldn't figure what it was. Then, suddenly, I realized. It was -the fact that Danny's breathing no longer rasped beside me.... - -I rose and closed the magazine. I hope that somehow he knows, now, how -the Lensman fought his way out of that jam. - - * * * * * - -I went back to the turret, then. But on the way I sought out Ronnie and -Mac and Rudy. I asked them about Krassner. They hadn't seen him. - -"But we will! If he's aboard this ship, we'll dig him out!" - -They were gathering their squads into search parties as I left. In the -control room, Dr. Mallory had just completed another check-up and minor -course revision. He was jubilant because the _Jefferson_ was reacting -so beautifully. "Another six hours, Brian, and we'll be there. I've -been teaching Maureen to operate the ship. She's an apt pupil." - -Maureen flushed with pleasure. Mallory continued, "I'm glad we have -another pilot. Now she can make the next trip back to earth, pick up -more colonists while we build our Lunar colony--" - -I started, and looked at him swiftly. Then he didn't know! I said, -"Doctor--those spores. How swiftly do they propogate?" - -"With drastic swiftness, Brian, lad. That's why I kept them in a -sealed, sterile chamber. Had they ever been loosed, within two month's -time all Earth would have succumbed to their somnivorous power. But why -do you ask--?" A sudden look of fear swept his features; his voice rose. - -"Brian! You destroyed the spores? I saw flames leaping before you -entered the tunnel--" - -And then I told him. - -It took him a good while to speak again. And when he spoke, his voice -was deep with sorrow. He glanced at the dim shadow of earth outlined on -the polaroid window, and his hands made a yearning gesture. - -"That which I feared most has come to pass. We are powerless to prevent -it. We might have time for two, three, a half dozen trips to Earth to -save a few refugees from the sleep to come--but even that is unsafe. -Were a single spore to get into the ship, be borne back to Luna, our -colony, too, would be stilled in centuries, aeons of slumber. You're -_sure_ the spores escaped, Brian?" - -"I'm sure." - -"Then soon we will be the last of Earth's waking children. Our -responsibility is graver than ever. Now must we not only keep alive the -spirit of liberty, but all man's dreamed-of future is in our hands." - -Maureen cried desperately, "But the responsibility is too great, -Dr. Mallory. Surely you, who invented the spores, know some way to -counteract their action? Isn't there some way to effectively destroy -them?" - -"None, my dear. None ... except ..." His eyes dimmed uncertainly. "I -don't know. Maybe. There's a faint, far possibility. Once, as I was -experimenting, I happened to expose certain of the spore-plasm to -synthetic chlorophyll. A reaction took place, a sloughing of the spore -cell. I was not interested in that at the time, so I didn't pursue the -experiment. But it is remotely possible...." - -"We must try, then," I told him. "As soon as we get to Luna, you -must try that experiment again. Try it on your sleeping assistant, -Williamson. Better he should die now than slumber on forever in his -glass coffin. - -"And if the antidote works, we'll be in a position to reclaim Earth. -Sweep away the plague, and while doing so, end the war in the very -fashion you once planned." - -"I'll do it!" he cried excitedly. "Chlorophyll must be the answer! As -soon as we reach--" - -He stopped abruptly. Footsteps were pounding up the runway; breathless -men were tumbling into the room. Big Mac was at their head, his brow -was red with unbridled rage. He yelled at me, "Brian! We've found him! -We've found the dirty, skulking rat!" - -"Krassner, you mean?" I thought again of Danny, and of those others who -had died because of Krassner's revealing gun shot. My anger flared to -match MacGregor's. "Where is he? Bring him in!" - -"We've got to take him. He's barricaded himself in the aft storage -compartment and threatens to blow the ship to hell if we make a move!" - - - VIII - -For a moment, everything before my eyes was outlined in crimson. As -from afar I heard my own voice gritting, "Get your men together! Follow -me--" - -Then Dr. Mallory's sharp command, "No, Brian! Don't move hastily. He -has the upper hand. He can do just what he threatens. Those aft storage -bins are loaded with explosive, inflammable substances. Maybe we can -reason with him--" He turned to Maureen. "Hold the ship to its course, -my dear. I will be back in a few minutes." - -We moved aft. Mallory and myself, MacGregor and Ian Pelham-Jones, -Devereaux. We passed through the bulkhead that sealed the forward from -the aft portion of the ship, hurried down a long corridor, and came to -the carriage lock beyond which lay the storage bins, the engineers' -berths, the recreation room and the library. - -This door was closed; before it, tense, nervous, uncertain, hovered a -dozen of my men. Van Huys headed them; he looked up at me, his pale -blue eyes troubled. - -"He's in there, Brian. I think the man's gone mad!" - -Mallory raised his voice, called mildly, "Krassner?" - -There was a shuffling sound from behind the lock. A moment's silence, -then Krassner, suspiciously, "Well?" - -"What's the matter, my friend? You mustn't act like this. What is it -you want?" - -"Turn the ship back to Earth!" - -"But we can't do that." Mallory's voice was soothing, persuasive. -"We've set our course. We can't return." - -"You must, damn you!" - -I couldn't restrain myself any longer. I brushed by Mallory, cried, -"Krassner, you're acting like an idiot! Come out of there immediately!" - -Again there was a brief instant of stillness. Then Krassner's tone -altered subtlely, became half-mocking. "Is that you, O'Shea?" - -"Yes." - -"The gallant captain of a drag-tailed company. You want to save your -command, don't you, Captain? Then make the old fool turn this ship -back, and do it _now_!" - -Wrath inflamed me; I stepped forward and hammered on the metal door. -There came the sound of swift, frightened movements inside. Krassner -yelled sharply, incisively, "Don't try to come in here, O'Shea. I can -blast this ship to shards, and by the Banner, I'll--" - -He stopped abruptly, aware that in his excitement he had finally given -himself away. But if he was startled, I was even more so. Suddenly, -now, it all made sense. I wondered why I had not guessed the truth -before. But I am not a clever man; I am just a soldier. And we had met -Krassner under circumstances that favored his deceit. - -I said slowly, "So you're not one of us, after all, Krassner? You're -one of them?" - -He had recovered his aplomb. He laughed stridently. In my mind's eye I -could see his face, thin lips drawn in a tight smile, those too-close -eyes lifted at the corners with mockery. His voice was a taunt. - -"Congratulations, O'Shea, on having played the dupe so long and so -excellently. Allow me to introduce myself in my proper character. -Captain Jacob Krassner of the Imperial German Army--at your service!" - -It was all too clear, now. I remembered the day we had met Krassner, -seen him "shot down" by an enemy plane. I remembered MacGregor's -comment at the time. "Damned funny. First Totie I ever saw who didn't -gun a parachuter." - -And that day I had caught him listening to us from Mallory's outer -office. His restless wanderings around the laboratory grounds; now I -knew he had been seeking the hide-away of the _Jefferson_. And the -betraying rifle-shot-- - -"You Americans are a naïve race," Krassner was saying amusedly. "It -never occurred to you, did it, O'Shea, that I might have concealed on -me a portable transmitter? It was I who exposed the location of the -laboratory to our gallant forces. We had suspected for some time that -strange things were brewing near Cleft Canyon. That is why I--shall we -say 'dropped into the picture'? To learn the meaning of certain things -that puzzled us." - -He was a braggart, like the rest of them. Now that he had given himself -away--only Toties swore "by the Banner"--he was gloating triumphantly. -And he held the upper hand. We could not even tell him that which we -knew; that Earth was doomed, that already hundreds of thousands of his -compatriots as well as ours by quiescent in dreadful, sleeping undeath. -If he discovered the Totie cause was lost--well, they were ever ones -for the heroic, the vainglorious gesture. And his hand controlled -forces that would blast us all into nothingness. - - * * * * * - -I glanced about me nervously. The faces of the men mirrored my anxiety, -Mallory's brow was heavy with fear, Van Huys gnawed his full lower lip -savagely. Only the gleaming metalwork of the corridor was impassive; -that and the heavy door that barred us from a traitor and an enemy. A -grilled square, high in the walls of the corridor, was like a great, -fanged, laughing mouth. I stared at it. - -"Mallory!" I whispered the name. "What is that?" - -"Eh?" He followed my glance. "Oh--that? Part of the ventilation system. -But, why--?" Then he grasped the reason for my sudden eagerness. "Yes, -Brian. It feeds into every chamber. We'll give you a hand. Bruce--" - -Krassner's voice came to us, suspicious. "What are you whispering about -out there? I warn you, don't attempt to enter this room. If you do, -we'll all die together!" - -Mallory somehow managed to keep his tone steady. - -"Krassner, you're an intelligent man. Listen--" - -"Keep him talking, Doctor!" I whispered. I nodded to MacGregor; his -huge hands cupped to give me a hand-up to the grill. My fingers tore -at the four studs that bolted it into position. One came out. Another. -All eyes were upon me as I lifted the heavy grill from its position, -lowered it into the outstretched hands. Only Mallory continued talking, -pleading, arguing, reassuring. Stalling for precious time. - -I nodded, MacGregor's shoulders heaved, and I was scrambling into the -smooth bore of the ventilating system. It was narrow, but not too -narrow; the air was cool, clean-smelling. I crept from the opening, was -lost in darkness. - -A native sense of direction, keen-edged by years of guerrilla warfare, -aided me in threading that black labyrinth. How long the creeping -journey took, I had no way of knowing. It seemed endless, for I moved -slowly, cautiously, dreading the revelatory scrape of clothing upon -metal, the sound that might send Krassner suddenly into action. - -A turn, a rise, a descent, and another turn. Then before me loomed -a networked square of light. And the sound of Krassner's voice was -no longer muffled; it reached my ears loudly. "--fine organization, -O'Shea, where the soldiers address their 'captain' by his first name. -But we will teach you obedience, you Yankee up-starts! We--" - -I was at the grill. There was no way to unscrew it from the inside. -What could be done must be done--and in a single, sure move--from here. - -Krassner stood a few yards from the barred and bolted door. He had -not been bluffing. He had prepared the way for the destruction of the -_Jefferson_ in the event his demands were refused, his scheme went -awry. The end of a coiled fuse lay beside him, he toyed nervously with -an electro-lighter as he talked. But now his patience was wearing thin. -He said, "But enough of this conversation! Are you, or are you not, -going to turn about? Your answer now, or by the Banner--" - -Mallory answered reluctantly, "Krassner, once more I beg of you to -listen to reason." - -"The time for reason is past. I want action. You, O'Shea! Speak to me! -Are you going to turn the ship?" - -Silence. I eased my revolver from its bolster with infinite slowness. -I saw a puzzled look appear on Krassner's features, turn to a look of -sudden doubt. - -"O'Shea! Where are you? Speak to me!" - -My gun spoke for me. - - * * * * * - -Krassner never suffered for the misery he brought on others. He never -knew what struck him. My shot crashed into his brain like a Jovian -bolt. Without a word, a whimper, a groan, he collapsed where he stood, -his lips still parted in the question he had been hurling at the door -upon which, now my comrades were battering. - -But even in death, Krassner was destined to throw a last blow amongst -us. My cavernous eyrie echoed with a roaring blast; when my deafened -ears could hear again they heard a sizzling crackle. The stench of -burning powder stung my nostrils. - -I craned to look down through the grill; saw there that which damped -my forehead coldly. Krassner's weapon had been the hand flame-thrower -of our enemy. The stricken convulsion of his fist had shot a withering -blast of flame upon the fuse. Now a charred line of fire was racing to -the charge Krassner had prepared. - -In frantic haste I screamed this knowledge to those beyond the -door. "You've got to get in somehow! Stop that fuse!" Their efforts -redoubled. I heard the ringing crash of metal upon metal which meant -they had brought up a pry, then came a hissing sound, and at the -doorjamb, by the hinges, metal warmed, turned orange, glowed cherry -red. A blowtorch! - -I could do no good behind this grill. It was the act of a contortionist -to turn in that meager space, but somehow I accomplished it, scrambled -desperately toward the corridor grill through which I had entered the -air-duct. - -It was just as I gained the opening that the hinges of the lock finally -gave way, the door burst open. Even I was not prepared for that which -appeared through the frame. The entire aperture was one solid sheet of -flame. Despite their eagerness, no one could blame my men for falling -back, horrified, from the scorching fingers that leaped out to grasp -them. - -All but one! And that one was Dr. Thomas Mallory. Perhaps it was -because he alone realized the vital necessity of jerking that fuse -from its charge before everything ended in one coruscant moment. Arms -locked before his face, head lowered, he dashed recklessly into that -flaming hell! - -I fell--or dropped, I know not which--from my outlet, found myself on -my feet, heard myself bellowing, "Water! We've got to stop that fire -before--" - -But they knew that. Already someone had raced to the jets, another -was tugging desperately at a reel of fire hose. I suppose what I did -next was heroic. Either that or damned, blind foolishness. It could -not have been deliberate heroism, for there was no time to measure the -chances, weigh the consequences. I leaped through the doorway, followed -Dr. Mallory. And even so, there was another figure at my side. That of -burly Bruce MacGregor. - -We found him at the same time. He lay face down on the floor, arms -outstretched before him. But in one blistered hand was--the end of the -fuse. Scant inches from its charred end stood piled boxes of Triple-X, -most deadly of all explosives. The flames had not yet quite reached it, -but in another moment-- - -Then the water came! Like a solid fist it caught me in the middle of -the back, shot me, sprawling, forward. The breath shot from my lungs -before that impact--but never had I been more grateful for a bruising -blow. - -MacGregor, a sorry sight with his blistered cheeks, scorched hair, -spark-charred garments, bent his brute strength against the flood, -roared directions. - -"Here! On these boxes first! Soak them, ruin them! We can fight the -fire later...." - - * * * * * - -We got Dr. Mallory out of that furnace. How long we battled the fire -after that is hard to say. At least an hour. Krassner had planned his -coup with deadly Teutonic thoroughness. Not only had he arranged the -fuse and explosive charge; he had also soaked walls, drapes, furniture, -with gasoline. - -Against this, our water was useless. We had no sand. Men labored to -drag the lethal crates of explosive out of the danger zone; after -that we went back at the ever-spreading fire. Chemicals did the trick -finally. The last blaze succumbed to the stifling blanket of carbon -dioxide, a clean-up crew methodically swept up the last of the charred -débris. - -Thus died Krassner--but at what a cost! Ten of my men in the hospital, -at least two of them seriously burned. Three whole bins of provisions -gone forever, devoured by the hungriest of all foes. A binful of -linens, clothing, blankets, burned to cinders. And every other room -that had been in that aft section of the ship gutted! - -All these disasters paled into insignificance when, bandaged, cleaned, -reclad, I went to visit Dr. Mallory. One look at his face and I knew -that here was the heaviest price we were to pay for the destruction -of our last mortal foe. Only Mallory's eyes were visible under the -swaddling mask of bandage, and these were raw and bloodshot. But the -ghost of a smile lighted these fine old eyes, and his voice, sieved -through a layer of gauze, said weakly: - -"I ... reached there in time ... Brian, lad." - -"You did that," I told him huskily. "You saved us all, Doctor." - -"Not only us, but ... mankind. We _had_ to live, Brian. You must -lead ... our people ... out of the wilderness." - -I said, "Not I, Doctor. _You._ You are the only man who can save us, -reclaim the sleeping world--" - -He said, as though not hearing me, "It's a good ... thing I showed -Maureen ... how to run the ship. Isn't it? Now she can take us to Luna. - -"Brian, boy ... find the notes ... in my desk. They'll help you. I -believe ... you'll find the crater of Copernicus ... the best place to -land. There will be air there. Thin, maybe. But air. In the underground -grottoes ... should be ... water...." - - * * * * * - -A spasm shook him; his eyes closed for a moment in pain, then opened -again. They were febrilely bright. - -"Most important of all ... Brian ... the spores. You must find a -way ... to destroy them. Go back to Earth ... and awaken man ... to -a new, a peaceful, world." - -He was silent so long that I cried out, "Doctor!" I couldn't say more. - -But he spoke again, and for the last time. "I am sure now ... Brian ... -you will find the answer ... in chlorophyll. Keep after it. The fate of -all ... mankind ... is in only your...." - -And that was all. His eyes closed, then, as if they had finally found -peace. I turned away. Maureen covered his face tenderly. She came to my -side, and her voice was soft. - -"He was right, Brian. You are our leader now. It is up to you to find -the antidote for Earth's illness." - -I stared at her long and bitterly. My voice must have been harsh. - -"I! I, Maureen? Tell me--do you know the formula for chlorophyll? Do I? -Does anyone aboard this ship, now _he_ is gone?" - -"Don't be upset, Brian. No, we don't--but there's no cause for despair. -It, and everything else you need know, is at our disposal. That's why -he went to such pains to provide a scientific library for the ship. All -man's knowledge lies there, waiting for us to seek it out." - -I took a deep breath. I said, "That's just it, Maureen. I couldn't -bring myself to tell him. But--" - -"But, Brian--?" - -"The library is gone! The books that meant life or death for mankind -are a pile of crumbled ashes!" - - * * * * * - -I suppose I should be grateful that we are here. I should be thankful -that Maureen's quick intelligence made it possible for us to land here -at the crater of Copernicus. I look from the window of my little shack. -I see shanties like my own arranged in a crude circle here at the base -of towering mountains. - -Dr. Mallory was right. We have air here, and water. We have enough -provisions to last us for years. By the time those are exhausted, we -will be independent of our Earthly supplies, for already Sanders and -Van Huys have set soil into cultivation; they claim, gleefully, that -this thick, rich, Lunar soil flowers like a desert when watered. And we -have set up plants for the synthesis of water. - -Strange how quickly we have adapted ourselves. We even laugh sometimes, -nowadays. There have been marriages; I suppose that means that in a -little while there will be births. Imagine that! The first Earth child -to be born on the Moon. - -I, too, should be happy. At times I am--comparatively. For I have -Maureen beside me; our love is a great, sustaining force in a -desperate existence. - -But I cannot be completely happy, for night or day I am reminded of -the great, impossible burden that weighs my shoulders low. The Earth, -a massive, glowing globe, lights our sky. Occasionally I think I can -glimpse the gleaming ocean waters of Earth; once, on a clear night, the -familiar outline of our lost homeland, America, was crystal clear to -our eyes. - -Yet all life on that nearby mother planet is, must be, now deep in -everlasting sleep. Everlasting because I am powerless to interrupt it. -Because Mallory's library is no more; because I am a stupid soldier, -not a clever man. - -Only recently there came a wan ray of hope. It was as we were -transferring the last pieces of furniture from the _Jefferson_ to -our shacks. In the berth that had been Danny Wilson's--gay, laughing -Danny!--I found pile upon pile of those amusing, colorful "magazines" -that Danny loved. - -They are old and ragged; many of them are coverless. But most of -them--for such was Danny's preference--are the kind which Mallory once -called "science fiction." Dreams of the world-to-be, pathetic in the -face of that which now confronts us. - -But it is my only ray of hope, these magazines. I brought them to my -shack. I am culling them carefully, one by one. There is a faint, and -oh! so faint, chance that.... - -Yet I fear it is a hopeless search. There is so much of fancy in -these little books, so little simple fact. Had but _one_ of those -imaginative writers of years ago thought to include in one of his -stories that which must have been, to him, a commonplace formula--that -for chlorophyll--I could yet do that which Mallory demanded of me. Here -we are rich with ores, the soil teems with every element known to man. -We have a well-equipped laboratory, we could synthesize _anything_. But -we cannot create this "chlorophyll" because we do not know what it is, -nor what elements combine to form it. - -Hope dwindles as I read. There remains but one more slim pile of -magazines before me. If the answer is not in one of them, then we must -perish. I turn pleading eyes to the past, to the year 1940, before I -was born. But there is no one to hear my plea. Unless, in one of these -remaining-- - -(_Here the manuscript ends._) - - * * * * * - - POSTSCRIPT - -Common sense tells me there can be little doubt but that this -"manuscript," purported to be written by one Brian O'Shea, a soldier in -the Army of the Democracies in the year 1963, A.D., is a deliberate and -painstaking hoax. - -Who is responsible for it, I cannot begin to guess. Somehow I -can't bring myself to believe that Dr. Edgar Winslow (whom I have -investigated and found to be exactly what he claimed, a fellow in the -psychology department of one of our nearby Southern universities) would -lend himself to such a fantastic trick. - -But it is hard to believe, also, that Winslow could and did achieve the -perfect telaesthetic rapport evidenced by the foregoing pages. - -But--there was an earnestness about Winslow that stirred me strangely. -He did not have the air of a man perpetrating a fraud. He asked me, you -will remember, to "play the game of caution," even if I did not believe -that which I found in the manuscript. - -I should, perhaps, dismiss the whole thing with a shrug; heave the -"story" back at Winslow with the advice that if he wants to become a -science-fiction writer he should do so honestly, not try to insinuate -his way into print on the byline of another. - -Yet--it is a queer manuscript. It is quiet here in Roanoke today. As -I write, I look from my office windows to see the rolling hills, now -sweet-breasted with fresh green, misted with the soft white of dogwood. -The sky is blue and clear, the sun a warm beneficence. Still, the -morning papers tell of the desperate plight of the Allies. Again they -have lost ground to a grim, mechanized Totalitarian army. Finland, -Norway, Belgium, Holland,--the list grows. - -Mussolini has sent his restless legions to battle; Japan makes overt -gestures toward the Indies. Russia, the patient bear, crouches in the -north, watches ... and waits.... - -I don't know. I honestly don't know. The manuscript is probably a hoax. -And yet ... and yet.... - -Anyway, here it is, Brian O'Shea. Here is what you asked for. You'll -find it on the cover of this magazine. If this magazine is one of those -through which you still have to search, the world you mourn may yet -blossom anew. - -And because covers, like man's freedom and dreams and hopes, too often -crumble into dust, the formula you want is printed here again, man of -the future. - -C_{55}H_{70}O_{6}N_{4}Mg is the empirical formula for chlorophyll, -Brian O'Shea! - -C_{55}H_{70}O_{6}N_{4}Mg! - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ultimate Salient, by Nelson S. 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Bond - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Ultimate Salient - -Author: Nelson S. Bond - -Release Date: April 17, 2020 [EBook #61859] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ULTIMATE SALIENT *** - - - - -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>THE ULTIMATE SALIENT</h1> - -<h2>By NELSON S. BOND</h2> - -<p>Brian O'Shea, man of the Future, here is<br /> -your story. Read it carefully, soldier<br /> -yet unborn, for upon it,—and upon you—will<br /> -one day rest the fate of all Mankind.</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories Fall 1940.<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><i>He glanced at me slowly, and a bit sadly, I thought. "I'm sorry, -Clinton," he said, "but that won't do. It won't do at all. It will have -to be written. You see—you won't be here then...."</i></p> - -<p>I thought at first he was the census-snoop, returning to poke his -proboscis into whatever few stray facts he might have overlooked the -first time. My wife was out, and when I saw him coming up the walk, -that bulky folder under his arm, I answered the door myself—something -I seldom do—sensing a sort of reluctant duty toward the minions of -Uncle Sam.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He was a neat and quiet person. One of those drab, utterly commonplace -men who defy description. Neither young nor old, tall nor short, stout -nor slender. He had only one outstanding characteristic. An eager -intensity, a <i>piercingness</i> of gaze that made you feel, somehow, as if -his ice-blue eyes stared ever into strange and fathomless depths.</p> - -<p>He said, "Mr. Clinton?" and I nodded. "<i>Eben</i> Clinton?" he asked. Then, -a trifle breathlessly I thought, "Mr. Clinton, I have here something -that I know will prove of the greatest interest to you—"</p> - -<p>I got it then. I shook my head. "Sorry, pal. But we don't need some." I -started to close the door.</p> - -<p>"I—I beg your pardon?" he stammered. "Some?"</p> - -<p>"Shoelaces," I told him firmly, "patent can-openers or fancy soaps. -Weather-vanes, life insurance or magazines." I grinned at him. "I don't -<i>read</i> the damned things, buddy, I just write for them."</p> - -<p>And again I tried to do things to the door. But he beat me to it. -There was apology in the way he shrugged his way into the house, but -determination in his eyes.</p> - -<p>"I know," he said. "That is, I <i>didn't</i> know until I read this, -but—" He touched the brown envelope, concluded lamely, "it—it's a -manuscript—"</p> - -<p>Well, that's one of the headaches of being a story-teller. Strange -things creep out of the cracks and crevices—most of them bringing with -them the Great American Novel. It was spring in Roanoke, and spring -fever had claimed me as a victim. I didn't feel like working, anyway. -No, not even in my garden. Especially in the turnip patch. Hank Cleaver -isn't the only guy who has trouble with his turnips.</p> - -<p>I sighed and led the way into my work-room. I said, "Okay, friend. -Let's have a look at the masterpiece...."</p> - -<p>His first words, after we had settled into comfortable chairs, made -me feel like a dope. I suppose I'm a sort of stuffed shirt, anyway, -suffering from a bad case of expansion of the hatband. And I'd been -treating my visitor as if he were some peculiar type of bipedal worm. -It took all the wind out of my sails when he said, by way of preamble, -"If I may introduce myself, Mr. Clinton, I'm Dr. Edgar Winslow of the -Psychology Department of—"</p> - -<p>He mentioned one of our oldest and most influential Southern -universities. I said, "Omigawd!" and broke into an orgy of apologies. -But he didn't seem to be listening to me; he was preoccupied with his -own explanation.</p> - -<p>"I came to you," he said, "because I understand you write stories -of—er—pseudo-science?"</p> - -<p>I winced.</p> - -<p>"Science-<i>fiction</i>," I corrected him. "There's quite a difference, you -know."</p> - -<p>"Is there?" He frowned. "Oh, yes. I see. Please forgive me. Well, -Clinton—" The professorial stamp was upon him; quite unconsciously he -addressed me as if I were one of his students. "Well, Clinton, I came -to ask a favor of you. I want you to transmit a message to a certain -man. I want you to write the message in such a form that it will not be -lost—in the form of a fictional narrative."</p> - -<p>It takes all kinds to make a world. I gazed at him thoughtfully. I -said, "Don't look now, but isn't that doing it the hard way? I'll be -glad to help you out. But putting a simple message into story form -is—well, why not just let me <i>tell</i> the guy? By word of mouth?"</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid," he said soberly, "that is impossible. You see, the person -to whom this message must go will not be born until the year 1942."</p> - -<p>"Nineteen—!" It worked. It threw me off balance for a minute. Then -came the dawn. It <i>was</i> a gag, after all. My pal Ross being funny -from out Chicago way, maybe? Or Palmer, deserting Tark long enough to -joyride me over the well-known hurdles? I chuckled. I said, "That's all -right, Professor. I'm young; I can wait. Just tell me the name of this -unsprouted seedling, and I'll stick around till he gets old enough to -talk to. Only the good die young; I expect to live to a ripe old age."</p> - -<p>He glanced at me slowly, and a bit sadly, I thought. "I'm sorry, -Clinton," he said, "but that won't do. It won't do at all. It will have -to be written. You see—you won't be here then...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>You know, it should have been funny. Uproariously, screamingly funny. -I should have laughed my crazy head off, given my obviously screwy -visitor a smoke and a drink and a clap on the back and said, "Okay, -pal. You win the marbles. Come clean, now. Who put you up to this -crystal ball stuff? What's the payoff?"</p> - -<p>But I didn't, because somehow it wasn't funny after all. There was a -deadly seriousness to my visitor's manner; the knuckles of his hands -were white upon his knees, his icy blue eyes burned with a tortured -regret that was like a dash of water to my mirth.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry, Clinton," he said. "I'm really dreadfully sorry."</p> - -<p>I lit a cigarette carefully. In as even a voice as I could muster, I -said, "Perhaps you'd like to tell me more? Perhaps you'd better start -from the beginning?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," he said. "Yes, I think that would be best." He fingered the -thick brown envelope nervously. "The story begins," he said, "and -ends—with this manuscript...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"As I have already told you," said Dr. Winslow, "my profession is -teaching. Psychology is my field. Recently I have given much of my -time to research into the lesser-known faculties of the human mind. -Experimental psychical research such as that investigated by Prof. J. -B. Rhine of Duke. You are undoubtedly familiar with his work?"</p> - -<p>"Extra-sensory perception?" I nodded. "Yes. Most fascinating. -The results are far from satisfactory, though. And some of his -conclusions—"</p> - -<p>"You make a common error," said my visitor gravely. "Dr. Rhine has not -assumed to draw any conclusions—as yet. He offers only a few, and -completely logical, presumptions.</p> - -<p>"Dr. Rhine's studies to date, however, have been in the field of -extra-sensory perception only. There are other fields of psychical -research quite as untouched, and, I have reason to believe, even more -important and—fruitful.</p> - -<p>"It is in one of these companion fields that I have been laboring. I -have been investigating the phenomenon you may know as 'telaesthesia.'"</p> - -<p>"You mean," I asked, "telepathy?"</p> - -<p>"There is a difference between the two. Telepathy, as defined by Myers -in 1882, is 'the communication of impressions of any kind from one mind -to another, independently of the recognized channels of sense.' It -implies a deliberate, recognized contact between two minds existent at -one time.</p> - -<p>"Telaesthesia is a more complex meeting of entities. If A, let us -say, reaches out and helps himself to the contents of B's mind -<i>without</i> the knowledge or assistance of B, that process will be -called 'telaesthesia.' Unlike telepathy, it knows no barriers of Time. -There are hundreds of recorded case histories from which we learn of -men of our time who have established telaesthetic contact with former -forgotten eras.</p> - -<p>"And of days to come, as well!" Here Winslow's eyes literally gripped -me. "But never, until now, has anyone succeeded in gaining more than a -fleeting glimpse into the Time stream of the future. Never before has -a man established a contact so deep, so strong, that he could read not -one sentence or one paragraph of that which is to be—but an entire -chapter, decades long...!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>It was spring in Roanoke. Outside, warm April sunshine poured down -luxuriant gold upon the faint, green buds. My place, <i>Sans Sou</i>, lies -in a quiet fold between two rolling hills. There was nothing to disturb -that quiet now save the boastful warble of a redbird, "Purty! Purty!" -and the petulant complaint of a chipmunk in the sycamore.</p> - -<p>The sky was a pale, soft blue, cloudless and serene. There were no -clouds, and even the delicate fronds of the weeping willow drooped -motionless. So it could not have been a storm I heard. Yet as he spoke, -a dark shadow seemed to scud across the sky, veiling the sunlight, and -the gods made portent in the swell of distant thunder. I felt the short -hairs stiffen on my neck, and despite the warmth I shivered.</p> - -<p>I said, and why I spoke in a whisper I cannot tell, "Never before ... -until ... <i>now</i>?"</p> - -<p>"Until now!" he repeated. And suddenly his fingers were swift with -eagerness, he fumbled with the flap of the envelope while words -raced from his lips. "Several months ago I began to experiment with -automatic writing, one of the means by which telaesthetic contact is -authenticated.</p> - -<p>"At first the results were—as might be expected—faulty. From the -autohypnotic syncopes into which I was able to project myself, I woke -to find nothing on the sheets before me but meaningless scribbles.</p> - -<p>"And then, suddenly, I woke one day to find that in my period of -subliminal usurpation I had achieved a definite result. I—or -someone—had written four full pages. The first four pages of this -manuscript!"</p> - -<p>Here he handed the manuscript to me. I had time to notice that the -writing was full-bodied, flowing. Then Dr. Winslow's words claimed my -attention again.</p> - -<p>"That was but the beginning. Once having established contact, it was -as though I became the <i>alter ego</i> of this mysterious correspondent. -From that time on my experiments were graced with success. Whenever I -resumed contact, pages were added to the manuscript. By the periodicity -of these, I am led to believe that Brian O'Shea is a diarist, and that -through some inexplicable phenomenon, it is given to me to be able to -set down, telaesthetically, the very words he writes in his diary—"</p> - -<p>"You said," I interrupted, "Brian—?"</p> - -<p>"O'Shea," nodded Winslow. "Brian O'Shea. A soldier in the army of the -Americas, Clinton—in the year 1963 A.D.! His diary is a history of the -things to come!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>What I would have said then, I do not know. Maybe I would have said -something bitingly scurrilous—which I most certainly would have -regretted later. Or perhaps, as is most likely, I was momentarily -stunned into speechlessness. But I was spared the necessity of -speaking. Dr. Winslow had risen; eyes glowing strangely, he touched my -shoulder.</p> - -<p>"I am going to leave you now, so you may read this manuscript in peace. -When you have finished, you will understand why I came, and know that -which must be done.</p> - -<p>"You will find that the manuscript begins abruptly at the moment when -first I 'contacted' O'Shea. It ends with equal abruptness. There -are fragments missing; these may be filled in or rounded out as you -consider necessary for the purpose of story-telling. I have made a few -slight changes in spelling. Whether O'Shea was—or should I say 'will -be?'—a poor scholar, I do not know. The spelling of some words may -have changed over a period of trouble-swept decades....</p> - -<p>"But whatever surprises lie in store for you, whatever conclusions -you draw from the manuscript you are about to read, I beg of you that -you play the game of caution. If you end by doubting O'Shea's story, -<i>still</i> you must convey to him the message the manuscript demands. It -is the only way. We must take no chances. I will leave my address—" -Here he scribbled a few words on his card; I noted subconsciously that -his own handwriting was tiny, crabbed, angular. "When you have finished -reading, get in touch with me. No, don't get up!"</p> - -<p>For a long moment I stared after him. Is there any way I can tell you -how I felt? I, who have written fantasies woven of thin air, now thus -to be suddenly thrust into a fantasy beyond my own wildest imaginings? -Even more important, is there a way I can make you believe that this is -not merely another amusing tale, to be read today and forgotten soon?</p> - -<p>The structure of this narrative is mine. I supplied the story form. But -is there any way I can convince you that the words which follow are not -my own? <i>I did not write this story!</i> It is the story of a man who is -not yet born, who will not live these happenings for twenty years.</p> - -<p>Here is the story of Brian O'Shea, soldier....</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">II</p> - -<p>—Stumbled and pitched to his knees. I ran to his side and would have -carried him, but he shook me off.</p> - -<p>"It's too late, O'Shea," he said. "My number's up. Take over. And—" He -hiccoughed convulsively and his lips drooled red. "And for Lord's sake, -Brian, get the men out of this trap!"</p> - -<p>His eyes glazed, then, and his head dropped forward to his chest. -Someone tugged at my shoulder. It was Ronnie St. Cloud; he was -screaming, above the splatter of shrapnel, "The hills, O'Shea! They've -cut us off from the river. The hills are our only way out!"</p> - -<p>Danny Wilson was beside him, and Knudsen, and a few more. About us -milled a shrieking, terrified throng; it was impossible to tell soldier -from civilian. Our uniforms were anything but uniform. We wore whatever -serviceable garments we could salvage. I still had—though I suppose -it was unrecognizable beneath a layer of caked sweat and mud—an old -khaki campaign shirt, but my breeches were a corduroy pair I had found -in a demolished farm house near Sistersville. St. Cloud wore the -horizon-blue jacket of a <i>poilu</i> beside whom he had fought in Belgium. -Knudsen looked least military of all in whipcord riding breeches -commandeered from the tack rooms of the Greenbriar Inn at White Sulphur.</p> - -<p>St. Cloud was right, of course; we might have known from the beginning -we couldn't hold Huntington. It was open to the west, and that entire -sector, from Chicago to Detroit and spearheading southward to Akron, -Cincinnati, Zanesville, was occupied by von Schuler's Death's Head -Brigade.</p> - -<p>But Captain Elmon, who had whipped our tiny company into some semblance -of order after the debacle at Pittsburgh and had brought us safely down -the river through Parkersburg and Gallipolis, had believed we might be -able to defend this West Virginia river town until reinforcements could -reach us from the Fort Knox garrison.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>There was a school here, a Marshall College, with a layout ideal -for our purposes. The buildings were more than a hundred years old, -sturdily built; there were dormitories, kitchens, private power plants -for heat and light. The campus was encircled by a waist-high brick wall -which, sandbagged, made a perfect first-line defense against infantry.</p> - -<p>The rugged, mountainous terrain made it impossible for the Toties to -bring up mechanized units. Nor could they bring pressure to bear from -the Ohio River which, here, was not only shallow but bedded with -rubble from the locks and dams we had blown up.</p> - -<p>But—the old, old story. They got us from the air. Their Messerschmitts -and Junkers descended on us like a host of locusts, bombed the town -ruthlessly; small pursuit planes strafed the fleeing populace with -merciless persistence. We couldn't do anything about that, of course. -Captain Elmon told me once—he saw volunteer service in Sweden before -our country got into it—that in the early days of the war, aircraft -confined its operations to military objectives. But I laughed; I knew -he was just leading me on. He was a great one for joking, was the -captain, even in the darkest hour.</p> - -<p>Now Elmon lay dead at my feet; his final command had been that I take -over. Get the men out of this trap. There was no time to waste in -bootless grieving. Already the sharp bite of sidearms augmented the -scream of shellfire ... which meant the Toties were up to their old -trick of parachuting an army of occupation into the beleaguered town.</p> - -<p>I shouted swift orders to the others, bade them pass the word around to -"take to the hills." There were viaducts under the railroad at 16th and -20th Streets; we used these as our ports of egress. It wasn't a matter -of minutes. We gave ground slowly, fighting off the enemy advance from -street to street, alley to alley, house to house.</p> - -<p>By the old football stadium, now an ammunition dump, I found Bruce -MacGregor, the Canadian, and the roly-poly Hollander, Rudy Van Huys. -They had impressed the services of a dozen scared civilians, were -loading trucks, vans, anything with our meager store of ammunition. -MacGregor glanced at me sharply.</p> - -<p>"Where's the Old Man, O'Shea?"</p> - -<p>"Dead," I told him. "We're on our own. Mac, do you think you can handle -this job alone?"</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"I want Van Huys to forage. We're retreating to the hills. Use the 20th -Street underpass, cut south to the Big Sandy, then west at Louisa. -Rudy, get all the food-stuffs you can lay hands on. We're heading for -hungry country."</p> - -<p>They grunted understanding and I went on. They were two good men. -The chubby Dutchman could smell out provisions like a beagle. Our men -wouldn't starve immediately, anyway.</p> - -<p>That moment's delay was the only thing that saved my life. I was but -a half block away from the underpass when a Totie bomber spotted the -stream of refugees flooding out of the city through that viaduct. My -ears sang to the screaming whine of his power dive, concussion threw -me to the pavement as he loosed his entire rack full of bombs into the -heart of the fleeing throng.</p> - -<p>They never had a chance. Those who did not die instantly in the -explosion were buried a split-second later in the tons of twisted steel -and concrete that cascaded down upon them. There was one moment of -dreadful cacaphony, hoarse screams of fear mingling with the thunderous -roar of the explosion—then a dull, unearthly silence, punctuated only -by the muted whimper of a few charred bodies that could not die and the -grating slither of broken masonry filling the chinks of the funereal -mound.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I rose, shaken, nauseated. Others had come up behind me; among them was -Devereaux. There were tears in the young Frenchman's eyes. He lifted -his head blindly toward the sky, shook an impotent fist.</p> - -<p>"<i>Les sales cochons!</i> Will it never end, O'Shea, the triumph of these -devils? Are honor and mercy dead? Is God dead? My country ... all of -Europe ... now yours...."</p> - -<p>"They haven't taken America," I told him savagely, "yet! Come on. We're -leaving town through the 20th Street viaduct. Is that you, Ronnie? -What's the news?"</p> - -<p>"They've consolidated position along Fifth Avenue, thrown a defense -line from Four Pole Creek to the river, infantry advancing north along -the river bank to the college. Thompson and a foray squad are trapped -in the First National, no use trying to save them. We blew the Toties' -brains out, though." St. Cloud grinned ghoulishly. "We had City Hall -plaza groundmined. They chose that spot to set up general headquarters."</p> - -<p>"Where's Frazier?"</p> - -<p>"Dead. Blue Cross."</p> - -<p>"Janowsky?"</p> - -<p>"Same thing."</p> - -<p>"Wilson?"</p> - -<p>"He's all right. Or was. He went back toward the college. Said -something about having an ace up his sleeve, whatever that means."</p> - -<p>I didn't tell him. I didn't have to, for at that moment Danny came -racing toward us. He waved his hand at me in a sort of vague salute or -greeting, yelled, "If you're ready to get goin', <i>git</i>! There'll never -be a better time."</p> - -<p>"Why?"</p> - -<p>"Because the Toties are goin' to have their hands full in a minute. -With something too hot to handle. I just happened to remember that -college we were bunked in had its own heating plant. A natural gas -pipe-line. Since it was the Toties' objective, I thought maybe I'd warm -house before they got there. Hold your hats, folks! There she goes!"</p> - -<p>There came a sudden, terrific blast of sound. Even at that distance -we felt the shuddering repercussion, felt a breath of superheated air -fan our cheeks as the natural well Danny had set off let go with a -thunderous detonation. Into the gathering dusk shot a writhing spiral -of white-hot flame ... the jagged outlines of oft-bombed houses looked -black and ugly against the searing screen.</p> - -<p>The flames leaped higher, higher, spread. An oily pall blotted the -dying rays of the sun; from afar came to us the crackling agony of a -city destroying itself. I watched, spellbound for a moment, then turned -to the others.</p> - -<p>"Danny is right. This is our chance. Let's go!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>MacCregor and Rudy Van Huys were waiting for us in the hills beyond -the city. We paused to take stock of equipment, count noses, and -plan our next move. Of our company—which had numbered six hundred -before Pittsburgh, and had been one hundred and sixty-odd at yesterday -evening's rollcall—now there remained but fifty-seven men. Twelve -recruits joined us from the clamoring mob of civilian refugees. These -were, of course, either graybeards, striplings, or men of dubious value -as soldiers. All men of fighting age and caliber had long ago been -called to the colors by wave upon wave of government drafts.</p> - -<p>We were a pitiful collection, poorly fed, inadequately armed, raggedly -clad. Even so, the civilians were loud in their demand that we remain -with them to "protect" them. But this I could not agree to do.</p> - -<p>"You'll be safer," I told them, "hiding here in the hills than marching -with us. We'll try to contact Preston's brigade at Fort Knox. You have -food, water, radios, medical supplies. Hide out, keep living and—keep -hoping!"</p> - -<p>And so we left them. They must have numbered three thousand, mostly -women and children. A few tried to follow, but I quickened the pace. -The last weeping woman abandoned the pursuit after five miles; I saw -her fall to earth, beating the insensate soil with weary, hopeless -fists.</p> - -<p>Beside me marched Danny Wilson. He was a reckless, devil-may-care -lad, was Danny. Even in the thick of battle his ruddy features were -habitually wreathed in a grin. But it had deserted him now. He said -soberly, "Maybe we should have stayed with them, Brian, boy. It's a -hard row to hoe."</p> - -<p>"We can't fight a war in small detachments," I told him grimly. "You -know that. Mexico tried it, and now their country is under Totie rule. -Nova Scotia tried it, and now the swastika flies there. Our only hope -is to concentrate, meet them somewhere in one decisive battle."</p> - -<p>"I suppose you're right. We go to join Preston?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. It's the general concentration point. Elmon got instructions -by radio just before he went west. Jackson is bringing up his army -from the Gulf, Davies is marching in from Springfield. They say -three flights are taking off from Fort Sill; we'll have a small air -force. If we can beat the Toties off at Louisville, we'll cut their -communications line from Pittsburgh to Cincinnati, hold the Ohio."</p> - -<p>That night we slept along the Big Sandy. Before we bivouacked I broke -our little company into six squads, each of eleven men, each headed by -a veteran on whom I knew I could depend. I appointed Danny Wilson and -Ronnie St. Cloud as my lieutenants. In arranging the squads, I tried to -place the men according to nationality under one of their own race.</p> - -<p>Raoul Devereaux led one of the French squads, while Anatole LeBrun -the other. That would have been funny a few years ago, when the army -was still organized under the caste basis, because Devereaux used to -be a captain and LeBrun a common private. But that old "officer and -gentleman by Act of Congress" stuff had gone overboard a long time ago. -Now we picked our leaders by their leadership ability.</p> - -<p>Ian Pelham-Jones, the Britisher, and Bruce MacGregor headed two -English-speaking squads; Rudy Van Huys commanded a group of Dutch and -Belgians; the tall Norwegian, Ingolf Knudsen, led a collection of -assorted Scandinavians. Norwegians, Swedes, Finns, Danes—Lord, there -was a tough outfit!</p> - -<p>And so we hit the trail. There's not much use telling about the days -that followed. We marched and slept and ate and marched again. We were -spotted once by a Totie spyplane; he came down to do a little plain and -fancy strafing but we had the advantage of broken terrain. We took to -cover and turned his crate into a colander before he decided he'd had -enough. Lars Frynge, the Swedish sharpshooter, claims he punctured the -pilot as well as the plane, but I wouldn't know about that. Though it's -true that he did wobble as he flew away.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We avoided Lexington, cutting south through Campton and Irvine. We -picked up a railroad at Lancaster. Joe Sanders, a native of these -parts, said it was a part of the old Louisville & Nashville. If it -were in operation, he said, it would take us right to our destination. -But that was like saying if we had wings we could fly. The rails were -twisted ribbons of steel; in some places the roadbed had been so -completely eradicated you would never know it had been there.</p> - -<p>We saw people from time to time, but mostly in the small towns. They -came out to cheer us as we marched through, offered us what little they -had in the way of fresh water, barley bread, clothing that would never -be used, now, by sons, husbands, brothers, who had fought their final -battle. I got a fine new sweater in one village. In another we had an -odd experience. A white-haired granddame insisted we accept a flag she -had sewn for us. A funny-looking red flag with blue diagonal cross-bars -and thirteen white stars. We used it later to bury Johnny Grant. He -died of a delayed gas hemorrhage.</p> - -<p>The larger towns were deserted. We saw only one man in Danville. A -scrawny, long-haired weasel skulking through the ruins of what had once -been an A & P supermarket. Bruce MacGregor took a shot at him, but I -knocked his rifle up. The bullet whistled over the man's head, and he -scurried away like a sick, desperate rabbit. I knew there was a G.O. -to shoot all looters on sight, but the time had passed, I told Mac, to -concern ourselves with such trivialities. Ammunition was too precious.</p> - -<p>And, anyway, if he didn't find the buried provisions, maybe the enemy -would.</p> - -<p>The seventh night out, we camped in the woods north of Bardstown, just -a few yards off what had once been a main highway. I was beginning -to smell smoke. Tomorrow we would join the main garrison, get fresh -clothing and equipment and be assigned our duties in the projected -offensive. That is, I suppose, why I was sleepless.</p> - -<p>We had stumbled across a deserted tobacco shed the day before. The -brown leaves were old, parched, crumbling, but it was better than the -hay-and-alfalfa mixture they had given us up North. I rolled myself a -cigarette and was sitting by the side of the road when suddenly I heard -it. The sound of an approaching automobile.</p> - -<p>A moment later moonlight glinted on metal; I saw it picking its slow, -lightless way over the cracked asphalt. My heart leaped. This must be -a car from Louisville. I ran down to the road, stood waiting eagerly. -It approached at a snail's pace, but in the gloom the driver must have -had all he could do to watch the road without keeping an eye peeled for -vagabond troops, for when, as it came beside me, I cried a greeting -and reached for the door, there came a startled sound from within, the -motor roared stridently, and the car leaped forward, almost wrenching -my arm from its socket.</p> - -<p>Somehow I managed to hold on, though the automobile bounced and jarred -crazily as it struck deep ruts in the roadbed. My head glanced metal -and I saw whirling stars. "Hey!" I yelled. "What the almighty hell are -you trying to do! Take it easy!"</p> - -<p>Brakes squealed; the car jolted to a stop. And from the interior a -voice, high-pitched with relief, cried:</p> - -<p>"You—you're an American! Thank Heaven!"</p> - -<p>Then a slim form collapsed suddenly over the wheel. I yanked the door -open, dragging the unconscious driver from the cab. He must be, I -thought, wounded. He must be—</p> - -<p>But it wasn't a "he" at all. As the body fell back limply over my arm, -a campaign hat tumbled earthward. Soft brown hair cascaded from beneath -it. The driver was a girl!</p> - -<p>I had ammonia tubes in my first-aid kit. I snapped one beneath her -nose, jolted her back to awareness. And she proved her femininity by -coming out of it with a question on her lips.</p> - -<p>"Who—who are you?"</p> - -<p>"O'Shea," I said, "commanding a detachment from the Army of the Upper -Ohio. Marching to join Preston's brigade at Louisville. But never mind -that. Who are <i>you</i>? Where do you think you're going?"</p> - -<p>She said, "Louisville!" In the darkness her face was a white blur, -drab, expressionless, but there was a touch of hysteria to her voice. -"Louisville! But haven't you got a radio? Didn't you know—"</p> - -<p>We hadn't. It didn't make sense. As she faltered, I snapped, "Know -what? Go on!"</p> - -<p>"Louisville has fallen. The Toties have taken Fort Knox. Our troops are -destroyed, the government has fled, and the Army of the Democracies is -in utter rout!"</p> - -<p>I stared at her numbly. In the black of the woods a nightjar screamed a -single, discordant taunt....</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">III</p> - -<p>The commotion had roused most of the others. Quiet forms in the -midnight, they had drifted to the road. Wilson spoke now. He said, -"That's the end, then. If she's right, Brian, the war is over. And -we've lost."</p> - -<p>I said to the girl, "How about it?"</p> - -<p>She shook her head.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid so. The last reports I heard, they had seized the -Mississippi, cut all contact between our Eastern and Western armies. -The Japs control California and Nevada. There was a terrific battle -being waged at Albuquerque. The Russian navy holds the Great Lakes. -Everywhere you hear the same story."</p> - -<p>Pelham-Jones demanded harshly, "St. Louis? Did you hear anything -about—?"</p> - -<p>"Wiped out to a man. It was caught in a vise. The Germans from the -east, the Italians from the north."</p> - -<p>Pelham-Jones said, "I see," quietly. He turned away. His shoulders -looked heavy. He had a younger brother at St. Louis. Van Huys looked at -the girl suspiciously.</p> - -<p>"How do we know she's telling the truth, O'Shea? It may be more lies. -She may be a Totie spy."</p> - -<p>I said, "You have your dent?"</p> - -<p>She nodded and handed it to me. I flashed my light on it. It was -authentic, all right. The picture on the tiny metal identification tag -was an image of her; the name beneath was <i>Maureen Joyce</i>. She was -tagged as a WAIF, a member of the Women's Auxiliary Intelligence Force. -I gave it back to her.</p> - -<p>"Very good, Miss Joyce. Sorry. We can't afford to take chances, -though. You understand, I'm sure. But—" My curiosity made me exceed -my authority. "But what are you doing here? Surely you wouldn't be -attempting to escape the Toties in this direction? If they hold the -east?"</p> - -<p>She hesitated for a moment. Then, carefully, "I am acting under orders, -Captain O'Shea. They were supposed to be <i>secret</i> orders. But in view -of what has happened—" She made up her mind. "It would be better for -more than one to know. In case—in case anything should happen to me.</p> - -<p>"You've heard of Dr. Mallory?"</p> - -<p>"Thomas Mallory?" I said. "The physicist? The one who pestered the -daylights out of the government about some crack-brained invention -during the early days of the war? Is he the one you mean?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. The government isn't too sure, now, that it acted wisely in -refusing to listen to his plan. But you know how it was for a while. -Miracle men flooded the War Department with fantastic ideas for -'smashing the enemy.'</p> - -<p>"Only, in this last extremity, the War Department decided to -investigate Mallory's claim. As a last resort. I was commissioned to -find him, bring him to Louisville. But now—" Uncertainly. "Now I don't -know just what I ought to do. Even if he has a plan, and a good one, -there is no one to whom we can communicate it."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Surprisingly, it was Danny Wilson who interrupted.</p> - -<p>"Except," he said suddenly, "us!" He turned to me. "Brian, it would be -suicide for us to go on to Louisville—and there's no place else to go. -We might as well make this our job. We have everything to gain, nothing -to lose."</p> - -<p>"Do you," I asked the girl, "know where Mallory is?"</p> - -<p>"Only roughly. Somewhere in the hills of the upper Cumberland. I plan -to comb the neighborhood—"</p> - -<p>The Kentuckian, Joe Sanders, edged forward.</p> - -<p>"Don't need to do no combin'," he drawled. "Reckon I c'n help. This -yere Mall'ry—he a big man? White hair? Red complected?"</p> - -<p>"Why—why, yes. I believe so."</p> - -<p>"Mmm. Figgered it'd be the same one. I know him. Usta fish near his -place when I was a colt. He come there in the summertime, big house in -Cleft Canyon on Mount Rydell. I 'member we usta call him the 'devil -Doc,' 'count of there was alluz queer goin's-on at his place. Well, -Cap'n?"</p> - -<p>He squinted at me. I weighed the chances briefly. It was probably a -wild goose chase. On the other hand, it was useless, as Danny had -pointed out, to throw our little force against the might of the Toties -who now held Fort Knox. And there was a faint, insane possibility that -Dr. Mallory had a 'plan'—an invention, maybe—that would enable us -to form the nucleus of a new army that, reorganized, would sweep the -invaders from our land....</p> - -<p>"We'll do it!" I said. "We'll march at dawn!"</p> - -<p>We had to leave the car there on the road and strike out across -country. It was the shortest and safest way to Cleft Canyon. Now that -the Toties had made a clean sweep of the East, the roads were no longer -open to us. As in Mexico five years ago, as in Ontario, the Maritimes, -the New England States year before last, as in Illinois last year, -floods of Totie scavengers were pouring through the conquered land in a -series of "mop up" operations.</p> - -<p>Time and again aircraft droning over our heads sent us scurrying to -cover. Once a flight surprised us in an open field. That's when we lost -Johnny Grant and three other men. Nearby woods saved the rest of us.</p> - -<p>Before we abandoned the car, I had the men strip it of everything we -could possibly use. Upholstery, tires, all electrical accessories, -including the televise. It was this last that kept us going, kept our -spirits aflame with determination, even when the trail was hardest. -Wherever we spun the dial we found the ether crackling with the boasts -of the enemy; each scene pictured on the plate was one calculated to -tighten the already grim jaws of my men.</p> - -<p>The Totie banner floated everywhere. It was a blood-red flag; in the -center was a quartered circle. In each of these segments was a symbol -of one of the four totalitarian states that had welded to form the -Totie army. Swastika and crimson sun, side by side with the Italian -fasces and Soviet hammer-and-sickle. The Big Four that, irresistibly -combined, had ground the principles of democracy under foot.</p> - -<p>It made me bitter, but it made me heart-sick, too. I could not help -wondering how, or why, my father and those of his generation had been -so blind as not to see the shadow of the inevitable creeping toward -them.</p> - -<p>Surely they must have known, as early as 1940, that Sweden would not be -the last neutral to be drawn into the conflict? Even then there must -have been rumblings in the Balkans, on the Mediterranean? Did they not -guess that Italy and Russia were just waiting until the hour was ripe, -that Japan's leisurely conquest of China was a mere military exercise -to keep Nippon warmed up until the day should arrive for a blow at the -Pacific Islands?</p> - -<p>My own country was perhaps the worst offender. Had it not been told -by a wise man, centuries before that, "In Union there is Strength?" -Yet America, like Switzerland and Portugal, Greece and Egypt, played -ostrich. Hoping against all sane hope that each succeeding conquest -would so weaken the Toties that the few actively fighting democracies -could win out in the end.</p> - -<p>I remember, as a child, the gleeful shouting in the streets of -America when news reached us across the Atlantic that Hitler had been -assassinated. I remember my father saying to a neighbor, "That's the -last of the mad dogs. Stalin and Mussolini are gone; now Hitler. -There'll be an armistice within a month. After that—"</p> - -<p>I wonder if Dad ever thought of that when he fought with his regiment -at Buffalo. The true facts must have come to him as a series of -staggering blows. The sudden collapse of the Franco-British union when -Russia and Italy, selecting their moment with diabolic accuracy of -timing, threw their support to Germany. The three mad dogs were dead, -yes, but four younger, madder dogs took their place. Himmler, Ciano, -Molotov, and Kashatuku. The crushing of India, the rape of Africa, the -shadow of the crimson banner stretching across the Atlantic Ocean to -touch Brazil.</p> - -<p>It was too late then to evoke the Monroe Doctrine. Too late to throw -defenses about our own shore line. Canada owned but a shell of its -former man power, Mexico was a hotbed of Totie sympathizers. Our -militia was unready, theirs fired for twelve years in the flaming -crucible of war.</p> - -<p>These were not pleasant memories I had as our small band marched -toward Mallory's hide-out in the hills. But I could not escape them. -I, myself, had witnessed the siege of New York, had seen Philadelphia -blown to shards by the mighty Armada that swept up the Delaware, had -heard the last, defiant cry of the defenders of Los Angeles—</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p><i>Unfortunately, here a portion of the manuscript is missing. To Brian -O'Shea the events mentioned must have been so commonly known as to -render unnecessary the mentioning of specific dates. Dr. Winslow places -the probable date of the invasion of the United States at 1959, but -this may vary as much as two years, one way or the other.</i></p> - -<p>"—low!" warned Sanders. "I don't think he's seen us!"</p> - -<p>Danny's eyes had widened; he was pointing eastward.</p> - -<p>"He's not looking for us! There's what he's waiting for. Look! An -American plane!"</p> - -<p>I was soaked to the skin, cold and miserable. The damned Totie scout -might, I found myself thinking unreasonably, have waited just five more -minutes before sneaking up over the horizon. Five more minutes and -we would have finished fording this stream, would be up the rise and -through the tangle of elm that Joe Sanders claimed concealed the place -that was our destination.</p> - -<p>Beside me, Maureen sneezed. The poor kid was wet, bedraggled. I -don't know how she contrived to still appear beautiful under such -circumstances. Somewhere behind me, I heard the snick of a breech-bolt. -I turned in time to find LeBrun raising his rifle. I slapped it down.</p> - -<p>"No, you idiot!"</p> - -<p>He looked sulky.</p> - -<p>"He's low, O'Shea. I can lay one in his gas tank."</p> - -<p>"And if you miss," I hissed, "you'll have the whole damned Totie army -down around our ears. We've come this far without being caught. We'll -take no risks now."</p> - -<p>Still, I knew how he felt. It was rotten to crouch there, knee-deep in -icy mountain water, concealed by a vault of foliage, watching one of -our planes—one of what must be a very, very few of our planes—drive -blindly into the path of a hedge-hopping Totie fighter that had spotted -its prey and was now waiting for it.</p> - -<p>Then, suddenly, there was the roar of motors. The American plane had -come within range. The Totie plane broke from concealment, spun skyward -in a swift, dizzying burst of motion. White puffs broke from its nose -seconds before our ears caught the spiteful chatter of machine-gun fire.</p> - -<p>It caught the American flyer off guard. Something broke from his left -wing, flapped crazily in the wind, as he jammed his plane—more by -instinct than anything else—into a dive. The Totie was on his tail -in an instant. And we stood there, helpless, watching a sweet, if -one-sided, air battle.</p> - -<p>The Totie plane was superior, of course. But our pilot was a master. -Time and again he wriggled out from under the other's nose just as it -seemed he would be riddled into fragments. Once he managed to climb -high enough to try a few shots of his own, but the Totie Immelmanned, -was back on his tail before he could even get his sights trained.</p> - -<p>It ended as suddenly as it had begun. One minute they were spiraling -for position, whirling around each other like a pair of strange, -snarling dogs. The next there came a thin streamer of smoke from the -tail of the American plane; a streamer that thickened to a cloud as we -watched, became flame-shot black, choking, menacing.</p> - -<p>The Totie fired a final burst into the damaged plane. It went into a -spin. Something dark appeared from a gap over the fuselage, it was -the pilot climbing free. For what seemed an endless moment he poised -there, then he was a brown chip on the blue breast of the sky, a chip -that hurtled headlong to earth. Beside me Maureen gasped; I felt her -shoulder tense against mine.</p> - -<p>Then a white mushroom blossomed suddenly; I choked a word of profanity -that somehow I didn't mean to be profane. The parachute, bloated with -air, zigzagged languidly to the ground. The pilot was halfway down when -his plane crashed. Flames leaped in a wooded thicket across the rise. -The Totie airman circled several times. Then, apparently content, he -gunned his ship, disappeared northward.</p> - -<p>MacGregor frowned. "They must be confident. First Totie I ever saw who -didn't gun a parachuter."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We left our hiding place, then; broke into the open where the -caterpillar could see us. He was a good flyer. He sighted us, played -his cords expertly, and landed less than an eighth of a mile from -where we had gathered. A couple of our men helped him fight down the -still-struggling 'chute; he kicked himself loose from the straps and -approached me.</p> - -<p>"Won't have any more use for that," he said ruefully. "You're the -leader here? My name's Krassner. Jake Krassner. Fourth Aerial Combat."</p> - -<p>I introduced him around. Danny Wilson said eagerly, "Did you say the -Fourth? I knew a guy flew with them. Name of Tommy Bryce. From Hoboken. -You know him?"</p> - -<p>Krassner shook his head. He had hard, black eyes, a little close. Crisp -hair. Broad shoulders. He was a good-looking chap. A little haughty, -maybe. But airmen are like that, especially to ground-huggers.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry. Our personnel has changed a lot. Lately," he added grimly. -He looked at me. "I seem to have picked a hell of a place to get shot -down, Captain. What on earth are you doing in this desolate spot?"</p> - -<p>Van Huys chuckled, and Joe Sanders grinned.</p> - -<p>"Don't look like much from topside, eh, Krassner? I figgered it -wouldn't. The old man's a fox. He spent more than twenty years givin' -this hide-out the damnedest coat of natch'ral camouflage you ever seen."</p> - -<p>"Old man?" said Krassner curiously. "Camouflage?"</p> - -<p>Maureen touched my arm. She whispered, "Maybe you had better not tell -him, Brian. It's our secret—"</p> - -<p>I started to tell her what the hell. He was one of us, and there were -mighty few of us left. We needed all the men we could get. And Krassner -looked like a man. I didn't get a chance to say any of this, though. -For as we talked, we had continued to follow Sanders. Joe was now -picking his way confidently through an opening in the tangle of foliage.</p> - -<p>Sunlight dimmed as we entered a huge, cleared space entirely roofed by -an interwoven network of boughs. In this space was a wide, rambling, -one-story house, adjoined by a number of inexplicable sheds. And on the -veranda of the house stood a man I recognized instantly. It was Dr. -Thomas Mallory.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">IV</p> - -<p>Mallory made us welcome. More than that, he seemed positively delighted -that we had come. He showed anxiety on only one point.</p> - -<p>"No one saw you come here, Captain? You're sure of that?"</p> - -<p>"Positive," I told him.</p> - -<p>"Good!" He called, and assistants came from inside to lead my men -to quarters. I was surprised, as well as a little shocked and -disappointed, to discover the number of women attached to Dr. Mallory's -household. There were a few men, but for the most part he seemed to -have surrounded himself with girls. Not only that, but with young and -pretty girls!</p> - -<p>But this was no time to sit in judgment on a man's morality. We had an -important mission. Maureen broached the subject as soon as we three -were rid of the others.</p> - -<p>"You must know why we're here, Dr. Mallory. We did not find this place -by chance. We came because you are the last hope of our country. Too -late, the government realizes it needs the invention you offered it -five years ago."</p> - -<p>Mallory shook his head sadly.</p> - -<p>"I'm sorry, my child—"</p> - -<p>"You can't refuse, Doctor!" I broke in. "Don't you understand? The -Toties overrun all the Americas. Democracy is dead unless—"</p> - -<p>He raised a weary hand.</p> - -<p>"Then democracy is dead, O'Shea. Not even I can restore its life. I -can say only one thing; I am glad from the bottom of my heart that the -government refused to listen to me when first I approached the War -Department with my plan."</p> - -<p>"Glad? Why?"</p> - -<p>"Because I was guilty of that which a scientist must ever dread. I -jumped to a hasty conclusion, based on insufficient evidence. My -conclusion was wrong, my plan—" He sighed, turned toward a door. "But -come. I will show you."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He led the way from his office into an adjoining room; a laboratory, -spotless, white-gleaming. About the walls of the laboratory were a -number of cages. In some of these were small animals; I saw monkeys, -guinea pigs, a squirrel, rabbits. Some were active, eating, shuffling -about, looking at us with bright, inquisitive eyes. Others lay -apparently asleep.</p> - -<p>But these I noticed with some remote part of my mind. For the focal -point of attention was a glass-walled case in the center of the room; -a topless case in which lay the body of a man. Maureen started. She -said, "Dead, Doctor?"</p> - -<p>"He is not dead," replied Mallory somberly. "He is the result of my -dreadful error of judgment. These others—" He nodded toward the -cages. "—were the experiments that misled me. This man, one of my -assistants who trusted me and was daring enough to become my first -human experiment, sleeps. How long he will continue to sleep, I cannot -guess. But it may be for one, two, or even more decades!"</p> - -<p>"Sleeps!" I said. But Maureen, with a flash of that swift intuition I -had seen before, guessed the answer. She said, "Anaesthesia! That was -your plan, Dr. Mallory!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my child. That was my plan. I am a scientist, but five years ago -I was sociologist enough to recognize that the United States could not -match the power of the Totalitarians. I realized, even then, that the -ending we have seen come to pass was inevitable. I set myself the task -of finding a way to meet the impending menace.</p> - -<p>"I found the answer in a new form of anaesthetic. I will not tell you -its formula. It is a dismal failure—but that I did not know. I thought -it was a great success. When I permitted small animals—those you see -before you—to inhale some of the delicate granules—"</p> - -<p>"Granules, Doctor?"</p> - -<p>"Yes. It was a revolutionary means of inducing unconsciousness. When -I permitted the animals to inhale these granules, they fell into a -soft, deep, harmless slumber. I timed their periods of sleep carefully, -discovered the anaesthetic rendered them senseless over periods ranging -from one to two weeks.</p> - -<p>"It was then, heady with success, I offered my plan to the government. -It was, I thought, so simple. Our planes would scatter the granules -over enemy terrain—" He laughed shortly, mirthlessly. "—and the enemy -would fall into deep slumber. While they were thus incapacitated, our -men, garbed in specially constructed suits, wearing protective masks, -could walk amongst them, disarm them, imprison them. The war would be -ended bloodlessly—"</p> - -<p>I stared at him incredulously. I said, "But—but if it really works -that way, Dr. Mallory, that is the weapon we need!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my boy. But it doesn't work that way. I have told you I made an -error in judgment. I assumed that Man, being a higher animal than those -on which I experimented, would experience the same, or a slightly less -drastic reaction than that experienced by the animals. I did not take -into consideration the fact that Man is also a more highly integrated -animal. That he is weaker, in some respects.</p> - -<p>"When Williamson, here, volunteered to become a human guinea pig, I -accepted his offer. I exposed him to the granules. He breathed deeply, -fell asleep—" Dr. Mallory shook his head. "And that was more than four -years ago. He still sleeps!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I said, "I understand now, Doctor, why you consider your plan a -failure. But you speak as a scientist and a humanitarian who would -shudder at seeing thousands of men sleep for a decade. I am a soldier. -I have met War face to face, and have learned, by bitter experience, -that there is no weapon too dreadful to use if the results are -satisfactory.</p> - -<p>"What if your granules <i>do</i> put the Toties to sleep for years instead -of days? Isn't that better than seeing our countrymen die beneath -the sword of the aggressor? Unless we act swiftly, this war is over. -Freedom, liberty, equality of men, all the things we believe in, are -doomed. But there is yet time to equip a few of our troops with the -suits and masks you speak of, turn loose your slumber-granules to the -winds.</p> - -<p>"Even though thousands of our own men share the sleep of the enemy, we -can go through with the disarmament program you planned. When our foes -awaken, a decade hence, they will have lost their leaders and their -war. When our friends waken we will take them, triumphantly, to the -homes and cities we have rebuilt while they slumbered."</p> - -<p>Dr. Mallory said, "I wish it were as simple as that, O'Shea. But -there is one other thing you do not know. The granules that are my -anaesthetic are more than mere granules. They are spores. Worse—they -are self-propagating spores!"</p> - -<p>He pointed to a trebly barred and locked door opening on one wall of -the laboratory. For the first time there was nervousness in his voice.</p> - -<p>"There is a storeroom beyond that door, O'Shea. In that storeroom, -quiescent in sterile containers, lie spores. Countless thousands, -millions of them. They are the granules I made for the government -before I discovered their real nature. There lies beyond that door a -weapon potent enough to end this war immediately—"</p> - -<p>He paused suddenly. We had all heard it, the squeak of a worn hinge, -the shuffle of a footstep. I motioned Mallory to silence, tiptoed to -the office door and flung it open.</p> - -<p>The aviator, Krassner, stood there. He was smiling. He said, "Ah, there -you are, Captain! I was looking for you. I wanted to ask if—"</p> - -<p>"How long have you been here?" I asked angrily.</p> - -<p>"How long? Why—just a minute or so. I—"</p> - -<p>"Were you listening to our conversation?"</p> - -<p>He stiffened; a flush highlighted his cheek bones.</p> - -<p>"I beg your pardon, sir!" he said.</p> - -<p>"Because, if you were—" Dr. Mallory was beside me, his hand was on my -arm. I hesitated. There was no sense in being so violently suspicious. -I said, "Well, never mind. Go back to your quarters, Krassner. I'll be -with you shortly."</p> - -<p>"Very good, sir!" He saluted, turned and stalked from the office, a -picture of affronted honor and dignity. I felt somewhat ashamed of -myself.</p> - -<p>Mallory said, "It really doesn't matter whether he heard us or not, -O'Shea. What I was about to say is, there lies beyond that door a -weapon potent enough to end the war immediately—but it must never be -used. For once loosed to the winds, those abominable spores would not -only end this war, they would still all animal life on the face of -Earth. I have said they were self-propagating. Each new generation of -spores would deepen the slumber into which mankind had been soothed by -the first—"</p> - -<p>I said, "But why keep them, Doctor?"</p> - -<p>"I don't quite know, O'Shea. Perhaps I have done so because I am, at -heart, more emotional than a true scientist should be. Perhaps I have -a secret fear that there may come a day when I shall be forced to play -God, give mankind its release from the chains of the tyrant."</p> - -<p>Maureen shuddered.</p> - -<p>"No, Doctor! You mustn't even think of that. Things look black now, but -they can't go on like this forever. Right and truth and liberty will -prevail in the end. There must be some other way to escape—"</p> - -<p>"There is," said Dr. Mallory quietly. "There is another way. A plan I -have been working on ever since the failure of my first. There is one -last refuge to which they cannot follow us."</p> - -<p>I said, "I don't understand, Doctor. Do you mean Antarctica?"</p> - -<p>His grave eyes captured, held mine.</p> - -<p>"No," he said. "A place more remote than even that. I mean, O'Shea—the -moon!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I knew, then, suddenly and with a great, overwhelming despair, that our -journey to Cleft Canyon had been a vain one. As a last resort we had -sought the hidden laboratory of one who had been a great scientist. We -had found a madman.</p> - -<p>I said, "Maureen—" and I suppose there was regret in my voice.</p> - -<p>But Mallory stopped me. "A moment, O'Shea. I'm not insane. Nor is my -plan—as you undoubtedly think—impossible. Did you ever hear the name -of Frazier Wrenn?"</p> - -<p>The name was vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it. Maureen could, -and did. She said, curiously, "Isn't he the traitor who disappeared -from Earth with a group of followers? Years ago? From a laboratory out -west somewhere?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, my dear. In 1939. From Arizona. But whether he and his tiny band -were traitors is something future generations must decide. Wrenn hated -war; foresaw what must come of Earth's second Armageddon. He fled -Earth, his destination was the planet Venus, his purpose to maintain, -on that wild colony, a vestige of culture and civilization until -Earth's feverish self-destruction should end."</p> - -<p>Mallory sighed. "We do not know what has become of Wrenn's expedition. -There has been no remotest sign, no signal—"</p> - -<p>I said, "Venus! But, Doctor, that means <i>spaceflight</i>!"</p> - -<p>"Yes, Brian. I was to have been a member of that gallant party. But I -was delayed in reaching their Arizona rendezvous, and their departure -was hastened by an unexpected attack. They left without me. But, -fortunately, Wrenn had confided in me the plans for his spaceship. For -years, now, with what scraps of metal I could steal from a war-ridden, -metal-hungry humanity, I have been secretly building a small duplicate -of the <i>Goddard</i>.</p> - -<p>"You wonder where it is hidden? Our Kentucky hills conceal great -caverns, Brian. There is one beneath the hill on which this house -stands. Below us—as I will show you shortly—is a gigantic cave. In it -is my almost completed craft."</p> - -<p>I had not noticed that Maureen's hand was in mine until I felt its soft -whiteness tense within my grasp. She cried, "But why the moon, Dr. -Mallory? Why not follow the Wrenn expedition—?"</p> - -<p>"You ignore a major factor, my dear. Celestial mechanics. Wrenn's -flight was planned for a time when Venus and Earth were in conjunction. -Such is not the case now. Earth approaches the Sun, while Venus is at -aphelion. And my craft is, as I have said, but a small copy of Wrenn's. -Moreover, I have been able to collect only a small amount of fuel.</p> - -<p>"There is only one body within our cruising range—Earth's moon. It is -my dream that we shall go there—"</p> - -<p>I had been listening silently, stunned. Now I came to my senses.</p> - -<p>"No, Doctor! I can listen to no more. You forget I am a soldier of the -United States army."</p> - -<p>"The government has fallen; the last of the democracies is crushed -beneath the conqueror's heel, Brian, lad."</p> - -<p>"It will rise again. In the hinterlands—"</p> - -<p>"—are Totalitarian troops."</p> - -<p>"There are still eighty million Americans—"</p> - -<p>"And a hundred million aggressors!" He put a hand on my shoulder. -"Don't you see, Brian, this is how you can best serve your country? -Make this flight with me. We will take your men and my followers—two -score men and the women you have already seen—and form a colony on the -Moon.</p> - -<p>"We will return, then, secretly, for more Americans. And more, and -more. We will transfer our democracy to a new soil, there grow in -strength and power and wisdom until some day we can reclaim our -heritage."</p> - -<p>Despite my training, I could not help but be convinced. I said, shaken, -"But astronomers tell us the Moon is a barren, lifeless world?"</p> - -<p>"For the most part, it is. But the Caltech telescope indicates that air -still lingers in the depths of the hollow craters. And in underground -caverns. Water can be synthesized. It will be no easy existence, but it -will be—"</p> - -<p>"The ultimate salient!" breathed Maureen at my side. "The last line of -defense for freedom's children! Brian, Dr. Mallory is right! We must do -this thing!"</p> - -<p>He looked at me hopefully. "Well, Brian O'Shea?"</p> - -<p>I took a deep breath. "When does our flight depart?"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">V</p> - -<p>At Dr. Mallory's suggestion, I did not tell my men too much about our -plans. "With so much at stake, O'Shea," he said, "the less they know -the better it will be."</p> - -<p>But they did not ask to know much. They were good men; they trusted me. -And if they chafed a little at the enforced idleness of the next week, -the rest must have been a welcome surcease from months of fighting. -Only one man failed to share their calm acceptance of my orders. -Krassner. He told me, sulkily, "There's something going on around here, -O'Shea. And, damn it, I have a right to know what it is. As a fellow -officer—"</p> - -<p>"I respect your brevet, Krassner," I told him somewhat curtly, "but for -the present I must ask you to remember that you are attached to this -division through courtesy only, and have no authority. In a few more -days, now, I will be at liberty to explain everything."</p> - -<p>He had to be satisfied with that. Though it was the nature of the -man to be snoopy; several times he was observed prowling around the -grounds, searching some clue as to Doctor Mallory's well-concealed -secret.</p> - -<p>He was chasing a will-o'-the-wisp, of course. A man might have searched -for months without finding the entrance to Mallory's underground -workshops. Mallory admitted Wilson and St. Cloud, my lieutenants, to -his confidence. He took us to the cavern wherein was being constructed -the spaceship.</p> - -<p>The gateway to the depths was that which appeared to be a -photographer's dark-room. Once inside, Mallory pressed certain carved -ornaments, the entire farther wall slid back, and there stretched -before us a smooth, well-lighted passage leading downward at a gentle -incline.</p> - -<p>We must have followed this more than a half mile before we debouched -into the main cavern; a mighty, vaulted chamber, a huge bubble of -emptiness blown in the solid mountain centuries ago when Earth was in -the travail of making.</p> - -<p>But it was not this natural wonder that made me gasp. I had seen -others; I had, indeed, once taken refuge for four weeks with the Ninth -Artillery in Luray. That which brought an exclamation to my lips was -the shimmering monster braced on an exoskeleton of girders in the -middle of the chamber. A gigantic, tear-shaped rocketship, stern jets -lifted some feet off the ground, streamlined nose pointing at the roof -of the cave.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" width="582" height="500" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>About it, in and around it, sweating men fretted, worried, labored, -like so many restless bees. Here the brief chatter of a riveting -machine woke snarling echoes as a final plate was welded into place; -there a master electrician wove an intricate network of wires into some -obscure purpose. In still another place, a strong-thewed gang trundled -seemingly endless trains of supplies into the ship's capacious holds.</p> - -<p>Dr. Mallory smiled at the expressions on our faces, and there was -pardonable pride in his smile.</p> - -<p>"There, my friends," he said quietly, "is the <i>Jefferson</i>."</p> - -<p>"<i>Jefferson?</i>" repeated Maureen wonderingly.</p> - -<p>"Named for him who, in our country's infancy, wrote down in blazing -words the principles on which all democracy is based. The inherent -right of men to enjoy life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. -Once his words showed us the way. Now his name shall lead us to a new -civilization."</p> - -<p>"Amen!" said Danny Wilson piously. Then, "Now can we have a look at -her? I mean <i>him</i>, Doctor?"</p> - -<p>Knowing every nook and cranny, berth and hold, turret and gun-chamber -of the <i>Jefferson</i> as I do now, it is hard to remember my feelings -on that day when first I strode her permalloy decks. Even so, I can -recall the vast wonder that engulfed me as Dr. Mallory led us through -the ship, pointing out the engines, the control-rooms, the Spartan -simplicity of the living quarters, the well-equipped kitchen and -compact storage bins. There was much I did not understand until long -afterward. Permalloy itself was a novelty to me. The metal had been -invented, Mallory said, by a German scientist. One of the old school. A -Doktor Eric von Adlund.</p> - -<p>"I do not know what has become of him. Perhaps he, like the other -peace-loving great of his race, has long since been liquidated by the -Totalitarians."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>So said Dr. Mallory sadly. And he tried to explain the operation of the -small, inconceivably powerful, atomic motors, the invention of Frazier -Wrenn. It was a concept so novel, yet so simple, that it staggered -us all. But I could see how, without first having a knowledge of the -heretofore unknown element <i>inektron (the spelling of this important -word seems to have confused Brian O'Shea. In the manuscript it is -incomprehensibly scribbled. Dr. Winslow suggests the philological -similarity of such words as</i> "inertron" <i>and</i> "inactron"? <i>NSB</i>) man -might never have discovered the long-sought power of the atom.</p> - -<p>St. Cloud, frankly at sea as regarded scientific matters, was delighted -with the military efficiency of the ship. I could see his fingers -yearning for the lanyard of one of the rotor-guns installed in the fore -and aft turrets. He liked, too, the foreman who came over to meet us.</p> - -<p>"How many men have you working here below?" he asked.</p> - -<p>Myers, the supervisor, told him twenty-three. "And there are twenty -women topside," he grinned. "Doc says we're going to a brutal frontier. -But if the women can stand it, we can. A man can do lots of impossible -things with his wife at his side."</p> - -<p>I understood, then, the number of girls I had seen above ground, and -regretted my hasty judgment of Dr. Mallory's character. I might have -realized that he did nothing without purpose. He had seen—as I saw -now—that without something, some<i>one</i>, to fight for, the men of our -little colony-to-be could easily lose heart. He was assuring our -venture against all eventualities.</p> - -<p>I was glad, suddenly, that Maureen was beside me. I wondered if she -felt the same way.</p> - -<p>Danny Wilson voiced a problem that had puzzled me.</p> - -<p>"But this cavern, Doctor? Aren't you like the man who, in his spare -time, built a yacht in his cellar? How are we ever going to get this -monster out of here?"</p> - -<p>Mallory said placidly, "When the hour comes, we will burst from this -cavern like a moth from its chrysalis. You have not yet witnessed the -power of our atomic beams.</p> - -<p>"One thrust of blinding energy from the forward jets and we will shear -an exit through the tons of solid rock and earth that now conceal us. -Before we leave—" He looked at me significantly. "—we will destroy -the buildings above ground. Including that one, sealed chamber that no -man must ever open.</p> - -<p>"The Totalitarians will have no way of guessing who we were, what we -did here, or where we have gone. And even if they should guess, they -would be powerless to follow us."</p> - -<p>His voice was low, vibrant, anticipatory.</p> - -<p>"Your men and mine, Brian O'Shea, we hundred odd will establish the -first base on Luna. Then there will be other trips to Earth, gathering -more converts to our cause. The day will come when we will match our -conquerors in strength. And then—"</p> - -<p>I said thoughtfully, "One more thing, Doctor. The <i>Jefferson</i> is -supplied with water and provisions, yes. But if our number grows, we -will need our own farms and granaries. How are we to grow food in the -lightless grottoes of the moon?"</p> - -<p>He nodded sagely.</p> - -<p>"All that has been provided for, Brian, lad. I have overlooked nothing. -Chemical culture is possible. Trust me to take care of that problem -when it arises."</p> - -<p>Danny Wilson coughed apologetically. He said, "We do, Doc. But—but -I think I know what's in the back of Brian's mind. Suppose something -should—I mean—if anything might happen to you—?"</p> - -<p>"That, too, I have considered. There is a complete scientific library -in the aft turret. Science is no secret to the man who can read and -think."</p> - -<p>Danny's face lighted. He said beautifully, "A library! Golly! Books! -I haven't seen a book for nigh onto fifteen years. Except Field Code -manuals. There hasn't been much time for reading lately."</p> - -<p>"And that," said Mallory darkly, "is perhaps the greatest catastrophe -of this war. Reading men, thinking men, are happy men. They are not -concerned with the lust for conquest of anything save the unknown. Yes, -Wilson, there are books. And for those who seek light entertainment -there are even volumes of fiction. Magazines for amusement."</p> - -<p>"Magazines?" I said, puzzled. "Magazines for amusement? I don't see -anything funny in an armament warehouse."</p> - -<p>Mallory sighed.</p> - -<p>"Forgive me, O'Shea. I had forgotten your youth. There was a time, when -you were a toddling child, when 'magazines' were not always ammunition -bins. Publishers used to issue monthly periodicals, printed on paper, -bound in bright jackets, filled with stories. Exciting adventures in -sports, the West, tales of crime and its detection, fictionized hazards -as to the future of the world—</p> - -<p>"Ah, but that was long ago. That was when paper was cheap and common. -When the vast mills of Norway and Denmark and Canada poured endless -rolls of pulp into our country."</p> - -<p>Danny said eagerly, "I'd like to see some of these here 'magazines,' -Doc. Could I?"</p> - -<p>"You may. Myers will help you select some from the storage bin, Wilson. -And now, my friends, if you are ready to return to the surface—?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That, as I recall, was on the 29th day of July, 1963. Yes, I know -it was that day, because that was the date of the fall of Santa Fé. -We watched that battle through our televises; it was triumphantly -broadcast—a braggart deed in keeping with their boastful ways—by the -Toties.</p> - -<p>Albuquerque having fallen, General Bornot, commander of the Army of -the West, had withdrawn his forces to the old capital of New Mexico, -there to make a last, desperate stand.</p> - -<p>It was a valiant, but doomed, defense. The very fact that intimate -details of the battle were televised shows how vastly superior the -Totie forces were; their airplanes could fly without hindrance over our -lines, spying out resources, reserves, and the pitifully weak remnants -of our Army.</p> - -<p>Like our own demolished Eastern army, the westerners were a motley -crew. I saw French, English, Scandinavian and Canadian uniforms; loyal -Sikhs from India fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with kilted Scots; -swarthy refugees from Totie Mexico and Guatemala defending futile -breaches beside blonde, fair-skinned Icelanders.</p> - -<p>The main body of attackers stormed up from captive Albuquerque to the -south; these were the trained warriors of Japan, the yellow horde that -had ravaged California, Arizona and Utah and pressed eastward to meet -Kievinovski's command. The Russians came down from the north, cutting -off any avenue of escape through Taos. ("Once," Dr. Mallory told us -sadly, "Taos was the artistic center of the United States. Now but one -pigment flows there; the red of blood.") And Schneider's Army of the -Mississippi had swept westward through Arkansas and Oklahoma, leaving -nothing but waste and desolation behind them, to meet the other armies -at this last defense post of democratic gallantry.</p> - -<p>It was no battle at all, really; it was a slaughter. Our army had -refortified old Fort Marcy, earthworks built by General Kearny more -than a hundred years ago. Two divisions were quartered in the Garita, -the old Spanish headquarters. Thus they lay, more than four thousand -Democratic troops—waiting behind breastworks of earth and 'dobe for -the attack of armies whose artillery was built to blast steel and -concrete pill-boxes out of existence.</p> - -<p>Even so, the gallantry of their defense turned the blood in my veins -to electricity. They did not wait for the Toties to attack; they -carried the fight to the enemy. With the first, tentative shot from the -besiegers there came an answering blast from the besiezed. Then the -bedlam was on.</p> - -<p>Stream upon endless stream, the Toties flooded into the city. As they -did so, we—and the enemy—discovered that the spying televise had -not told the whole story. Windows opened to expose spitting, snarling -machine guns. Doorways gaped to expose light fieldpieces that poured -fiery death into the Toties. Fake walls split miraculously, from them -charged concealed troops of Americans, faces grim, guns flaming, -roaring, bayonets flashing.</p> - -<p>Guerrilla warfare became the order of the day. At street barricades -powder and flame were forgotten as men met face to face, looked with -stark eyes upon dripping steel. Americans and their allies fell, but -for each of them fell two, three, a half dozen of the invaders. The -scream of explosives was deafening, the street pictured on the metallic -screen before us was a shambles of blood; bodies lay asprawl like the -forgotten toys of a careless child.</p> - -<p>And—the televise screen went blank!</p> - -<p>Danny Wilson loosed a great cry of joy. "They're licked!" he roared. -"The dog-whelped cowards are licked! I never knew of them to turn off a -televised victory—"</p> - -<p>For five glorious minutes we shared his hope. Then the broadcast was -resumed, after a murmured comment about a "technical difficulty in -transmission"—and when again our eyes looked upon the streets of Santa -Fé, the picture had changed.</p> - -<p>Once more it was aircraft that had won the day. In the face of -impending disaster, the Toties had loosed the full power of their air -armada against the beleaguered forces. It did not matter to them that -their thermite bombs fell amongst their men as well as ours; that was a -hazard their hirelings had been trained to accept. Burst after flaming -burst rocked the streets of old Santa Fé, broken bodies were flung -brutally against shattered walls, doorways and windows emptied—and -there were no more defenders. Only fresh, unending troops of Toties -filling the gaps left by their fellows.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I saw the Garita fall, a flaming shambles; I saw an airplane swoop low -over breastworks hastily flung up at the <i>Puenta de Los Hidalgos</i> and -wipe out a company of Americans. I heard the biting rasp of machine gun -fire, the staccato bark of anti-aircraft; once the visiplate before us -whirled giddily for an instant as the plane in which our broadcaster -rode narrowly escaped disaster.</p> - -<p>I saw the last great moment of Fort Marcy; the fall of the gates and -the horde of snarling Toties that rushed in, bayonetting all before -them; I saw the bayonet wielded that slashed the rope holding the -American flag to the flagpost. I saw the man who turned and raced to -that flagpost, grasped the ropes and held them taut as, for a moment -longer, the tattered ensign whipped out through the smoke and flame.</p> - -<p>Then I saw the bullet that found this unknown hero's breast; saw him -cough and loose his grasp, slip earthward as the flag above him tumbled -to the dirt. There was a look of hurt surprise in his eyes. Then I saw -no more, because my eyes were wet. And Dr. Mallory said, "There is -nothing more to see—"</p> - -<p>And turned off the televise.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Yes, that was the 29th day of July, 1963. I remember it well. For it -was after that I asked Mallory, "Do we go now? There is no reason to -delay."</p> - -<p>And he said, "We will leave in five days. By that time all will be in -readiness. And the third of August will be a day of good omen. It was -on that day, centuries ago, that a humble Portuguese sailorman with a -great dream sailed westward to the Indies and found a new world.</p> - -<p>"Like Chistofero Colon, we will select that date to set our course for -New America—"</p> - -<p>Maureen's hand tightened on mine. Krassner, who had been watching the -televise silently, gaped at us.</p> - -<p>"New course? Go? Go where?"</p> - -<p>"Skip it—!" I began. But Dr. Mallory stopped me. "No, I think it is -well the men should be told now, O'Shea. My helpers know. Your men, who -must be the fighters of our party, should be told where they are going."</p> - -<p>And he told them. It came as a stunning blow. Some of them looked -frightened; some, to be quite truthful, simply did not understand. -Others were openly incredulous. Among these was Krassner. He -epostulated, "But—but, O'Shea, this old fool must be insane! Flight to -the Moon! Absurd!"</p> - -<p>His eyes narrowed.</p> - -<p>"There's more to it than that. This is a trick of some kind I'll bet -it's tied up with that mysterious invention you've got hidden in your -closet—"</p> - -<p>I grasped him by the shoulder, whirled him about.</p> - -<p>"Then you <i>did</i> hear us that day?"</p> - -<p>"Sure. I heard you. Is there anything wrong in that? I couldn't help -hearing you say you had a weapon that would end the war. If that's what -you've got, trot it out! That's a lot better than dying like rats on a -fool's expedition to the <i>Moon</i>!</p> - -<p>"Luna! Pah! I, for one, won't have anything to do with it—"</p> - -<p>I said hotly, "You damned fool, we can't open that closet. Don't you -realize—?"</p> - -<p>"Brian!" snapped Dr. Mallory.</p> - -<p>I shut up suddenly. Krassner looked at me, then at the old man -suspiciously. He snarled, "You reminded me once that I had no authority -over your command, O'Shea. Well, now I remind you that you have no -authority over me. I'm pulling out of here. I've had enough of this -insane secrecy and—"</p> - -<p>He started for the door. I said only one word.</p> - -<p>"Lars!"</p> - -<p>Lars Frynge, the towering Swede, had his revolver at Krassner's -midsection. He said amiably, "Ay tank maybe you batter lissen to -Captain, hey?"</p> - -<p>Krassner's face purpled. He bellowed, "This is the last straw, O'Shea. -Insulting an officer and an equal! By the gods, I'll—"</p> - -<p>He was right. He was an officer and an equal. But I was determined of -one thing. Go with us he would, whether he liked it or not. But in the -meanwhile—</p> - -<p>"All right, Lars," I said. "Krassner, I'm sorry. I wasn't just trying -to throw my weight around. But think it over carefully, man. This means -a lot to all of us. You're at liberty to do what you will."</p> - -<p>He snorted and strode from the room. Danny Wilson cocked an eyebrow -at me; I nodded. Danny followed him. Maureen said nervously, "He's a -trouble-maker, Brian. I don't think we should trust him out of our -sight."</p> - -<p>"That's why Danny left us," I grinned.</p> - -<p>"And when we go, we should leave without him."</p> - -<p>"That," said Mallory, "is impossible. When we go, there must remain no -one behind to know where we have gone."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>And there were five days left in which to finish all that had to be -done before our departure. Those were days of feverish excitement and -activity for all of us. Having been let into the secret, my men were -shown the way to the underground cavern. There they labored, side by -side with Mallory's helpers, to load the cargo, put the last finishing -touches on the <i>Jefferson</i>.</p> - -<p>We stripped the house; we gathered all forage from the barns and silos -and bins. We rolled cask upon cask of fresh spring water into the -holds. We locked and sealed the holds, one by one.</p> - -<p>Danny raised a fuss about that. He had found something new and -wonderful—something I meant to investigate myself as soon as the -opportunity permitted. The joy of reading fiction.</p> - -<p>"It—it's swell, Brian!" he told me. "Boy, I wish I'd lived in them -days when magazines was common. You ought to read some of them stories. -Sports and detective stories and—" He looked sort of sheepish. "The -ones I like best are science stories. Gosh, you'd be surprised, Brian. -Them old writers guessed sometimes pretty near what was going to happen.</p> - -<p>"There was a guy named Bender, or Binder, or something like that, who -guessed 'way back in '40, at the start of this war, that we'd get into -it. And there was another guy named Clinton who said the same thing—he -was nuts, though. He said the women would bust loose from the men and -set up their own government.</p> - -<p>"And those others, they predicted things like the spaceship we'll soon -be riding in. And television, and—"</p> - -<p>I said, "Those magazines must be plenty old."</p> - -<p>"They are. Ancient. But they're still fun. Brian, can't I sneak a few -of them into my berth instead of sealing them up in the library? Do you -think Doc would mind?"</p> - -<p>"I guess not," I told him. So he did just that. By the time he'd -finished robbing the library, it looked moth-eaten and there was -scarcely enough room in his berth for him to turn around in....</p> - -<p>Those were full days and exciting ones, but pleasant. It is hard to -realize that we were living on the bright edge of grave calamity. Nor -did we know it until the eve of the day on which we were to take off.</p> - -<p>It started with a thin, high droning to the north. The familiar drone -of aircraft. As always, under these circumstances, Dr. Mallory sounded -the "Take cover!" signal, and everyone scurried to the shelter of the -camouflaged grove, there to wait until the danger should pass.</p> - -<p>But it did not pass. The droning came nearer, deepened in tone. And we -saw, through the leafy veil that concealed us, that it was not a single -plane that was approaching, nor a single flight—but a solid phalanx of -enemy aircraft!</p> - -<p>Even then we did not guess the dreadful truth. It was not until they -had come directly over us, swung into an involute loop and began -concentrating upon us, that we knew what was happening. Then we saw -something dark and ominous loose itself from the rack of one bomber; a -thin screaming filled the air—and in the woods to our right there came -a frightful blast!</p> - -<p>Earth shook beneath us, Maureen screamed needless words in my ear.</p> - -<p>"They're bombing <i>us</i>, Brian! They've found our refuge!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">VI</p> - -<p>There was only one thing that spared all of us in those next few -minutes. That was the fact that the Toties did not know <i>exactly</i> where -we were. Somehow they had learned the approximate location of Dr. -Mallory's mountain hide-away, but not in vain had the aged scientist -spent twenty years nurturing plant life to form a perfect barricade of -concealment about the dim, squat buildings. From above, the wooded dell -that hid his laboratory must have looked like one of thousands such.</p> - -<p>Therefore they scattered their shots. One bomb exploded a quarter mile -from Mallory's house; I learned afterward that it killed two workmen -who had been laying in cordwood. Others exploded as far as five miles -away as the hive of lethal wasps eddied back and forth, bombing the -entire countryside with abandon.</p> - -<p>A thousand questions seethed through my brain, but there was no time -now to ponder the answers. No time to ask why, or how, the Toties had -learned of this place. I seized Maureen's elbow, half-led, half-dragged -her toward the laboratory. Above the crashing din I howled in her ear, -"To the cavern! That's the only safe—"</p> - -<p>The rest was lost in an ear-splitting thunderbolt. But she knew what I -meant.</p> - -<p>We were not the only ones who fled to the security of the house. -The lab was the lodestone toward which all we tiny, helpless motes -gravitated. By the time we reached it, the shaking walls were jammed -with soldiers, workers, women, who had sought refuge there.</p> - -<p>A few of these were itching for action. Such a one was Danny Wilson. -He was pleading with Mallory, "How about it, Doc? Just one of them -anti-craft guns? We can get it up here in no time."</p> - -<p>"No. They don't know just where we are, Wilson. A shot would locate us -definitely. We must remain silent and take our chances against a lucky -placement."</p> - -<p>Krassner, his handsome face oddly pale, clutched at Mallory's arm.</p> - -<p>"This cavern you were talking about, Mallory. Take us there! We'll all -be blown to bits—"</p> - -<p>Joe Sanders' nose wrinkled, he looked at the airman disgustedly, and -spat. Mingled with my own contemptuous reaction to Krassner's demand, -I felt a warming glow of pride in my men. Each of them had realized, -as had Maureen and I, that the only safe place was the underground -shelter. But each of them had wanted, before we took to that refuge, at -least one vengeful poke at the enemy. Quivering capitulation like this -rubbed them the wrong way.</p> - -<p>But Mallory, serene as ever, had already led the way to the secret -entrance. He pressed the knobs, the door swung open. I was beside -Krassner as he did so; I saw the look of surprise on the aviator's face -as he saw the long tunnel that fed to the depths beneath. I couldn't -restrain the taunt.</p> - -<p>"Thought Mallory was insane, eh, Krassner? Does this look like the work -of a madman?"</p> - -<p>He muttered something incoherent. Then Pelham-Jones, whose squad had -been quartered farthest from the main house, burst into the room -excitedly.</p> - -<p>"They're landing foray parties, Brian! How long will it take to get -everyone out of here?"</p> - -<p>I glanced at Mallory. He said, "Fifteen or twenty minutes, at least."</p> - -<p>"And to get the <i>Jefferson's</i> motors started?"</p> - -<p>"Another ten."</p> - -<p>"Then," I snapped, "you'll need protection for a half hour. That's -what we're here for. Bruce, Rudy, Raoul, split your squads. Send half -below; have the others throw a cordon about the laboratory. If they're -dropping infantry, they'll have to stop bombing. By the time they find -us, the others will be below. Then we'll take to the cavern—"</p> - -<p>"Very good, sir!" They sprang into action.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The women continued to file singly into the small dark-room, pass -through the doorway into the tunnel. Maureen clutched my arm.</p> - -<p>"Brian, you don't have to stay up here. You're too important. You're -the leader. You've got to—"</p> - -<p>"—to stay with my men!" I told her quietly. And I did what I had been -wanting to do, but had never before dared. I took her, unresisting, -into my arms; kissed her. Her lips were warm against mine. Then I -pushed her toward the doorway. "Get down there. Don't worry about us. -If we hold our fire it will take them a long time to locate us. Danny, -where did Krassner go?"</p> - -<p>Danny grimaced.</p> - -<p>"That yellow mutt? Don't ask me. He's probably down there by now, -hugging a stalactite."</p> - -<p>"Well, to hell with him. Let's get going. And don't forget—don't fire -a shot unless they actually see us. We don't want to give our position -away."</p> - -<p>Mallory said quietly, "I'll herd them below as fast as I can, Brian. -When you hear the signal, bring your men on the double. But before -you leave the laboratory, you know what must be done?" He nodded -significantly toward the inner room, toward the trebly-barred door -that contained a world's fate. I nodded.</p> - -<p>"I know."</p> - -<p>The steady evacuation continued. I went outside again. As Pelham-Jones -had reported, the Tories were parachuting infantry to the ground. More -planes had reached the scene; the sky swarmed with them. And a mass -occupation was in progress; from each transport rumbled a steady stream -of dark figures that, like strange, winged insects, plunged out of -their humming cocoons, hurtled headlong toward Earth for a moment—then -suddenly grew filmy, white umbrellas that lowered them gently to the -ground.</p> - -<p>It was a random, haphazard occupation for the Toties <i>still</i> had not -solved the secret of our exact location. But many—too many—were -dropping near our sheltered grove. It would not take them long, I knew, -to find us.</p> - -<p>Happily, the aerial bombardment had ceased with the dropping of the -infantry. That was good. No chance explosion would find the heart of -our refuge, destroy the lab and cut us off from the underground cavern.</p> - -<p>Approximately twenty of us remained above ground as defenders. I told -MacGregor, "Encircle the house. Defend it at all costs until you hear -Mallory's call—then hightail it for the tunnel. I've got something to -do inside."</p> - -<p>I went back to the door beyond which were concealed the lethal -anaesthetic spores. There were two barrels of oil there; we had placed -them there for the purpose I now carried out. I broke them open, -spilled their contents every which way. Now a single match would set -the house ablaze, destroy forever the danger Mallory had feared. I -would strike that match just before ducking into the tunnel myself—</p> - -<p>A single, explosive crack sounded outside! A rifle had spoken!</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>That ripped it! With that shot there came a moment of macabre silence; -then the air was alive with an answering volley from the hills and -woods surrounding us. I raced out of the house, found Rudy Van Huys. I -roared angrily, "Who fired! Why? Good God, man, don't you realize—"</p> - -<p>His pink, chubby cheeks shook with anger to match my own. He said, "I -don't know, Brian. They hadn't spotted us until then. But now—"</p> - -<p>He didn't need to point to the forest; I could see the grey-green -uniforms sifting through the trees, closing in on us. The <i>spang!</i> of -a Wentzler shrilled in my ears, spent lead splattered against the wall -behind me. All about us, now, rifle fire rasped and spat; I saw an -advancing Totie soldier stop short in his tracks, stagger, spin, and -fall, clutching his stomach with red hands that clawed. I heard a grunt -from one of the men beside me, saw his mouth form an astonished O and -an ugly, purple-black third eye appear magically in the middle of his -forehead. The back of his head....</p> - -<p>Then came a welcome sound, a cry from Mallory.</p> - -<p>"All clear, O'Shea! Bring your men!"</p> - -<p>They came on the double. Not all of them. Half of them, maybe. Those -few minutes of gunfire, raking our fearfully exposed position, had cost -us. MacGregor, huge bear of a man, staggered around an ell of the house -carrying a still figure. Danny Wilson. I cried, "Mac, is he—?"</p> - -<p>"Bad, Brian! Mighty bad." MacGregor lumbered into the house with his -burden; the rest of the men followed him, lingering to throw last shots -into the advancing force before they disappeared.</p> - -<p>There remained, still, my most important task. Now the Toties had -apparently brought up several pieces of light artillery, for mingled -with the snap of musketry I heard the familiar coughing bark of -ordnance. Once the house shuddered and quaked, concussion deafened my -ear drums as a shell found us. But I sped down the empty corridors -toward the lab. Time was precious. All too soon the Toties would close -in on the house; before that I must toss my flame, race back to the -tunnel entrance.</p> - -<p>I burst into the room, at last, and—</p> - -<p>—and stood aghast! I had only presence of mind to throw a shielding -arm across my face, hold my breath. For no longer was the closet -sealed. The bars had been smashed inward, the lock was a shard of -broken metal, the door a heap of splinters. The gods of chance had -tossed a die for our enemies. That shell I had heard—had found its -way into the granary of death!</p> - -<p>I had a momentary glimpse of the inside of the closet. I saw grey, -fungoid granules sifting through the broken door; a cloud whirled and -eddied toward me. To breathe that cloud meant oblivion. Beating at my -clothes, my hair, with suddenly frenzied fingers, I turned and fled -from the room.</p> - -<p>In the hallway I stopped, ignited the box of matches I carried, tossed -the blazing brand onto the oil-soaked floor. Flame licked hungrily -along those stained boards; the bright fire-flower grew before my eyes. -Even so, I knew my effort was in vain. The shell had entered through -the walls of the house, and even now I could see those spores of -slumber sifting out to float with the winds.</p> - -<p>An agonized cry brought me to my senses. Mallory's voice, "Brian! -Brian, lad—where are you!"</p> - -<p>I turned and fled toward the secret portal. I made it just in time. -The aged doctor and I were the last to enter the tunnel as the first -Totie set foot in the laboratory. Stumbling, panting, we raced down -that smooth slope to where the <i>Jefferson</i> awaited us. A dull throbbing -wakened echoes in the hollow depths; eager hands helped us into the -air-lock.</p> - -<p>I heard Mallory gasp, "Take off! <i>Now!</i>" The humming deepened to a -frightful roar, the Niagara of powers beyond comprehension. I was dimly -aware of a cascade of broken rock smashing down about the <i>Jefferson's</i> -permalloy casing, of an unearthly sheet of flame mirrored through -quartzite windows. Then a tremendous tug pulled me to my knees, my -lungs strained for precious air, blood danced before my eyes and there -was agony in my bones....</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">VII</p> - -<p>Earth was a tremendous disc, swaddled in lacy veils of gleaming -white, when next I looked upon it from the control turret of the -<i>Jefferson</i>. I did not look for long. I had, when I turned my gaze -upon it, some vague idea of being able to determine (if nothing else) -broad continental outlines of the sphere from which we were roaring at -a speed which Mallory had told me was approximately 25,000 miles per -hour.</p> - -<p>But the sheen was so terrifically blinding that I had to shut my eyes. -Dr. Mallory, no longer so intent over his instruments now that he had -checked his course and found it satisfactory, noticed the movement, -reached over and turned the pane through which I had been looking a -quarter-turn in its grooved frame. Immediately the burning radiance -dimmed into murky grayness.</p> - -<p>"Earth-shine, Brian," he answered my unspoken query. "Our mother planet -is a great reflecting body. At this distance it is even more painful to -look upon with the naked eye than is the sun."</p> - -<p>Maureen said, "But the moon, Doctor? We don't seem to be moving toward -it?"</p> - -<p>"We aren't. It's moving toward us. Or perhaps I should say both it -and we are moving toward a mutual point in space where our paths will -intersect in—" He glanced at a chronometer and at his calculations. -"In a little less than eight and a half hours.</p> - -<p>"Before that, however. Brian," he turned to me seriously, "there will -be a few minutes that I am afraid will be rather uncomfortable for our -party. The period of absolute weightlessness when we reach the 'dead -spot'; the spot where the gravitational forces of Earth and its moon -are completely nullified by each other.</p> - -<p>"You might go below and warn everyone that this is to be expected. Bid -them not to be alarmed."</p> - -<p>Someone coughed apologetically at the turret door. It was St. Cloud. -His face was granitelike, but his eyes were haggard. He said, "Brian—"</p> - -<p>"Yes?"</p> - -<p>"It's Danny."</p> - -<p>"Danny? Is he—?"</p> - -<p>He nodded. "I'm afraid so. He'd like to see you."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I followed him swiftly down the ramp, through the corridors, and into -the sick bay. There were a half dozen of the men in there receiving -first aid treatment from one of Dr. Mallory's assistants. Wilson was in -one of the private wards off the main hospital room.</p> - -<p>He turned his head slowly as I entered, essayed a grin that froze, -suddenly, as a spasm shook him. But he said, in a low, husky voice, -"Hyah, Cap!"</p> - -<p>I said, "Hayah, yourself, soldier!" and motioned the others to get out. -The door closed softly behind them. "Got a blighty one, did you?" I -said.</p> - -<p>He said laboriously, "You wouldn't kid a guy, would you, Brian? I got -a west one this time." His hands plucked at the sheet covering him, -drew it down. Even the bandages had not been able to staunch that slow, -staining seepage. I drew the cover back again.</p> - -<p>"You're tough, Irish," I told him. "You'll get over that one before -breakfast."</p> - -<p>But I had a hard time saying it; the words rang false from my lips. I -was lying, and he knew it as well as I. He shook his head.</p> - -<p>"I don't much give a damn, Brian. I got the guy who done it, and a -couple others for good measure. There's only one thing I'm sorry about."</p> - -<p>"Yes, Irish?"</p> - -<p>"That story. It was about a guy named Kinniston. A Lensman. He was -in a hell of a jam. I'd like to have known if he got out." He said -plaintively, "I can't lift my hands, Brian, boy. They're so damned -weak...."</p> - -<p>I said, "One of those magazines? Where is it?" He nodded to the chair -beside his bed. I picked the thing up, found the place where he'd left -off. I started reading to him the story that had captured his fancy. -It wasn't easy. I hadn't read much of anything since I left military -training school at the age of thirteen. A lot of the words were -unfamiliar, and I guess I made pretty heavy weather of it.</p> - -<p>But he seemed to be enjoying it. He lay back on the pillows, breathing -hard, so intent on the adventures of this "Gray Lensman," printed in an -old and yellowed fiction book, that he almost forgot the icy fingers -closing in upon him.</p> - -<p>He only interrupted me once. That was to say suddenly, "Brian—it was -Krassner, you know."</p> - -<p>"What?"</p> - -<p>"He fired ... the shot."</p> - -<p>The shot that had betrayed us! I was reminded, forcibly, that I hadn't -seen Krassner aboard ship. I didn't know whether he'd made it or not. -But if he had—</p> - -<p>"Go on ... Brian. Get him out of trouble before...."</p> - -<p>So I read on. It was weirdly strange, sitting there reading a story of -spaceflight adventure written twenty years ago. While we, ourselves, -soared the void in a craft bound for Earth's satelite. But I read on. -And it must have been ten minutes before I sensed something wrong. At -first I couldn't figure what it was. Then, suddenly, I realized. It was -the fact that Danny's breathing no longer rasped beside me....</p> - -<p>I rose and closed the magazine. I hope that somehow he knows, now, how -the Lensman fought his way out of that jam.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I went back to the turret, then. But on the way I sought out Ronnie and -Mac and Rudy. I asked them about Krassner. They hadn't seen him.</p> - -<p>"But we will! If he's aboard this ship, we'll dig him out!"</p> - -<p>They were gathering their squads into search parties as I left. In the -control room, Dr. Mallory had just completed another check-up and minor -course revision. He was jubilant because the <i>Jefferson</i> was reacting -so beautifully. "Another six hours, Brian, and we'll be there. I've -been teaching Maureen to operate the ship. She's an apt pupil."</p> - -<p>Maureen flushed with pleasure. Mallory continued, "I'm glad we have -another pilot. Now she can make the next trip back to earth, pick up -more colonists while we build our Lunar colony—"</p> - -<p>I started, and looked at him swiftly. Then he didn't know! I said, -"Doctor—those spores. How swiftly do they propogate?"</p> - -<p>"With drastic swiftness, Brian, lad. That's why I kept them in a -sealed, sterile chamber. Had they ever been loosed, within two month's -time all Earth would have succumbed to their somnivorous power. But why -do you ask—?" A sudden look of fear swept his features; his voice rose.</p> - -<p>"Brian! You destroyed the spores? I saw flames leaping before you -entered the tunnel—"</p> - -<p>And then I told him.</p> - -<p>It took him a good while to speak again. And when he spoke, his voice -was deep with sorrow. He glanced at the dim shadow of earth outlined on -the polaroid window, and his hands made a yearning gesture.</p> - -<p>"That which I feared most has come to pass. We are powerless to prevent -it. We might have time for two, three, a half dozen trips to Earth to -save a few refugees from the sleep to come—but even that is unsafe. -Were a single spore to get into the ship, be borne back to Luna, our -colony, too, would be stilled in centuries, aeons of slumber. You're -<i>sure</i> the spores escaped, Brian?"</p> - -<p>"I'm sure."</p> - -<p>"Then soon we will be the last of Earth's waking children. Our -responsibility is graver than ever. Now must we not only keep alive the -spirit of liberty, but all man's dreamed-of future is in our hands."</p> - -<p>Maureen cried desperately, "But the responsibility is too great, -Dr. Mallory. Surely you, who invented the spores, know some way to -counteract their action? Isn't there some way to effectively destroy -them?"</p> - -<p>"None, my dear. None ... except ..." His eyes dimmed uncertainly. "I -don't know. Maybe. There's a faint, far possibility. Once, as I was -experimenting, I happened to expose certain of the spore-plasm to -synthetic chlorophyll. A reaction took place, a sloughing of the spore -cell. I was not interested in that at the time, so I didn't pursue the -experiment. But it is remotely possible...."</p> - -<p>"We must try, then," I told him. "As soon as we get to Luna, you -must try that experiment again. Try it on your sleeping assistant, -Williamson. Better he should die now than slumber on forever in his -glass coffin.</p> - -<p>"And if the antidote works, we'll be in a position to reclaim Earth. -Sweep away the plague, and while doing so, end the war in the very -fashion you once planned."</p> - -<p>"I'll do it!" he cried excitedly. "Chlorophyll must be the answer! As -soon as we reach—"</p> - -<p>He stopped abruptly. Footsteps were pounding up the runway; breathless -men were tumbling into the room. Big Mac was at their head, his brow -was red with unbridled rage. He yelled at me, "Brian! We've found him! -We've found the dirty, skulking rat!"</p> - -<p>"Krassner, you mean?" I thought again of Danny, and of those others who -had died because of Krassner's revealing gun shot. My anger flared to -match MacGregor's. "Where is he? Bring him in!"</p> - -<p>"We've got to take him. He's barricaded himself in the aft storage -compartment and threatens to blow the ship to hell if we make a move!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">VIII</p> - -<p>For a moment, everything before my eyes was outlined in crimson. As -from afar I heard my own voice gritting, "Get your men together! Follow -me—"</p> - -<p>Then Dr. Mallory's sharp command, "No, Brian! Don't move hastily. He -has the upper hand. He can do just what he threatens. Those aft storage -bins are loaded with explosive, inflammable substances. Maybe we can -reason with him—" He turned to Maureen. "Hold the ship to its course, -my dear. I will be back in a few minutes."</p> - -<p>We moved aft. Mallory and myself, MacGregor and Ian Pelham-Jones, -Devereaux. We passed through the bulkhead that sealed the forward from -the aft portion of the ship, hurried down a long corridor, and came to -the carriage lock beyond which lay the storage bins, the engineers' -berths, the recreation room and the library.</p> - -<p>This door was closed; before it, tense, nervous, uncertain, hovered a -dozen of my men. Van Huys headed them; he looked up at me, his pale -blue eyes troubled.</p> - -<p>"He's in there, Brian. I think the man's gone mad!"</p> - -<p>Mallory raised his voice, called mildly, "Krassner?"</p> - -<p>There was a shuffling sound from behind the lock. A moment's silence, -then Krassner, suspiciously, "Well?"</p> - -<p>"What's the matter, my friend? You mustn't act like this. What is it -you want?"</p> - -<p>"Turn the ship back to Earth!"</p> - -<p>"But we can't do that." Mallory's voice was soothing, persuasive. -"We've set our course. We can't return."</p> - -<p>"You must, damn you!"</p> - -<p>I couldn't restrain myself any longer. I brushed by Mallory, cried, -"Krassner, you're acting like an idiot! Come out of there immediately!"</p> - -<p>Again there was a brief instant of stillness. Then Krassner's tone -altered subtlely, became half-mocking. "Is that you, O'Shea?"</p> - -<p>"Yes."</p> - -<p>"The gallant captain of a drag-tailed company. You want to save your -command, don't you, Captain? Then make the old fool turn this ship -back, and do it <i>now</i>!"</p> - -<p>Wrath inflamed me; I stepped forward and hammered on the metal door. -There came the sound of swift, frightened movements inside. Krassner -yelled sharply, incisively, "Don't try to come in here, O'Shea. I can -blast this ship to shards, and by the Banner, I'll—"</p> - -<p>He stopped abruptly, aware that in his excitement he had finally given -himself away. But if he was startled, I was even more so. Suddenly, -now, it all made sense. I wondered why I had not guessed the truth -before. But I am not a clever man; I am just a soldier. And we had met -Krassner under circumstances that favored his deceit.</p> - -<p>I said slowly, "So you're not one of us, after all, Krassner? You're -one of them?"</p> - -<p>He had recovered his aplomb. He laughed stridently. In my mind's eye I -could see his face, thin lips drawn in a tight smile, those too-close -eyes lifted at the corners with mockery. His voice was a taunt.</p> - -<p>"Congratulations, O'Shea, on having played the dupe so long and so -excellently. Allow me to introduce myself in my proper character. -Captain Jacob Krassner of the Imperial German Army—at your service!"</p> - -<p>It was all too clear, now. I remembered the day we had met Krassner, -seen him "shot down" by an enemy plane. I remembered MacGregor's -comment at the time. "Damned funny. First Totie I ever saw who didn't -gun a parachuter."</p> - -<p>And that day I had caught him listening to us from Mallory's outer -office. His restless wanderings around the laboratory grounds; now I -knew he had been seeking the hide-away of the <i>Jefferson</i>. And the -betraying rifle-shot—</p> - -<p>"You Americans are a naïve race," Krassner was saying amusedly. "It -never occurred to you, did it, O'Shea, that I might have concealed on -me a portable transmitter? It was I who exposed the location of the -laboratory to our gallant forces. We had suspected for some time that -strange things were brewing near Cleft Canyon. That is why I—shall we -say 'dropped into the picture'? To learn the meaning of certain things -that puzzled us."</p> - -<p>He was a braggart, like the rest of them. Now that he had given himself -away—only Toties swore "by the Banner"—he was gloating triumphantly. -And he held the upper hand. We could not even tell him that which we -knew; that Earth was doomed, that already hundreds of thousands of his -compatriots as well as ours by quiescent in dreadful, sleeping undeath. -If he discovered the Totie cause was lost—well, they were ever ones -for the heroic, the vainglorious gesture. And his hand controlled -forces that would blast us all into nothingness.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I glanced about me nervously. The faces of the men mirrored my anxiety, -Mallory's brow was heavy with fear, Van Huys gnawed his full lower lip -savagely. Only the gleaming metalwork of the corridor was impassive; -that and the heavy door that barred us from a traitor and an enemy. A -grilled square, high in the walls of the corridor, was like a great, -fanged, laughing mouth. I stared at it.</p> - -<p>"Mallory!" I whispered the name. "What is that?"</p> - -<p>"Eh?" He followed my glance. "Oh—that? Part of the ventilation system. -But, why—?" Then he grasped the reason for my sudden eagerness. "Yes, -Brian. It feeds into every chamber. We'll give you a hand. Bruce—"</p> - -<p>Krassner's voice came to us, suspicious. "What are you whispering about -out there? I warn you, don't attempt to enter this room. If you do, -we'll all die together!"</p> - -<p>Mallory somehow managed to keep his tone steady.</p> - -<p>"Krassner, you're an intelligent man. Listen—"</p> - -<p>"Keep him talking, Doctor!" I whispered. I nodded to MacGregor; his -huge hands cupped to give me a hand-up to the grill. My fingers tore -at the four studs that bolted it into position. One came out. Another. -All eyes were upon me as I lifted the heavy grill from its position, -lowered it into the outstretched hands. Only Mallory continued talking, -pleading, arguing, reassuring. Stalling for precious time.</p> - -<p>I nodded, MacGregor's shoulders heaved, and I was scrambling into the -smooth bore of the ventilating system. It was narrow, but not too -narrow; the air was cool, clean-smelling. I crept from the opening, was -lost in darkness.</p> - -<p>A native sense of direction, keen-edged by years of guerrilla warfare, -aided me in threading that black labyrinth. How long the creeping -journey took, I had no way of knowing. It seemed endless, for I moved -slowly, cautiously, dreading the revelatory scrape of clothing upon -metal, the sound that might send Krassner suddenly into action.</p> - -<p>A turn, a rise, a descent, and another turn. Then before me loomed -a networked square of light. And the sound of Krassner's voice was -no longer muffled; it reached my ears loudly. "—fine organization, -O'Shea, where the soldiers address their 'captain' by his first name. -But we will teach you obedience, you Yankee up-starts! We—"</p> - -<p>I was at the grill. There was no way to unscrew it from the inside. -What could be done must be done—and in a single, sure move—from here.</p> - -<p>Krassner stood a few yards from the barred and bolted door. He had -not been bluffing. He had prepared the way for the destruction of the -<i>Jefferson</i> in the event his demands were refused, his scheme went -awry. The end of a coiled fuse lay beside him, he toyed nervously with -an electro-lighter as he talked. But now his patience was wearing thin. -He said, "But enough of this conversation! Are you, or are you not, -going to turn about? Your answer now, or by the Banner—"</p> - -<p>Mallory answered reluctantly, "Krassner, once more I beg of you to -listen to reason."</p> - -<p>"The time for reason is past. I want action. You, O'Shea! Speak to me! -Are you going to turn the ship?"</p> - -<p>Silence. I eased my revolver from its bolster with infinite slowness. -I saw a puzzled look appear on Krassner's features, turn to a look of -sudden doubt.</p> - -<p>"O'Shea! Where are you? Speak to me!"</p> - -<p>My gun spoke for me.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Krassner never suffered for the misery he brought on others. He never -knew what struck him. My shot crashed into his brain like a Jovian -bolt. Without a word, a whimper, a groan, he collapsed where he stood, -his lips still parted in the question he had been hurling at the door -upon which, now my comrades were battering.</p> - -<p>But even in death, Krassner was destined to throw a last blow amongst -us. My cavernous eyrie echoed with a roaring blast; when my deafened -ears could hear again they heard a sizzling crackle. The stench of -burning powder stung my nostrils.</p> - -<p>I craned to look down through the grill; saw there that which damped -my forehead coldly. Krassner's weapon had been the hand flame-thrower -of our enemy. The stricken convulsion of his fist had shot a withering -blast of flame upon the fuse. Now a charred line of fire was racing to -the charge Krassner had prepared.</p> - -<p>In frantic haste I screamed this knowledge to those beyond the -door. "You've got to get in somehow! Stop that fuse!" Their efforts -redoubled. I heard the ringing crash of metal upon metal which meant -they had brought up a pry, then came a hissing sound, and at the -doorjamb, by the hinges, metal warmed, turned orange, glowed cherry -red. A blowtorch!</p> - -<p>I could do no good behind this grill. It was the act of a contortionist -to turn in that meager space, but somehow I accomplished it, scrambled -desperately toward the corridor grill through which I had entered the -air-duct.</p> - -<p>It was just as I gained the opening that the hinges of the lock finally -gave way, the door burst open. Even I was not prepared for that which -appeared through the frame. The entire aperture was one solid sheet of -flame. Despite their eagerness, no one could blame my men for falling -back, horrified, from the scorching fingers that leaped out to grasp -them.</p> - -<p>All but one! And that one was Dr. Thomas Mallory. Perhaps it was -because he alone realized the vital necessity of jerking that fuse -from its charge before everything ended in one coruscant moment. Arms -locked before his face, head lowered, he dashed recklessly into that -flaming hell!</p> - -<p>I fell—or dropped, I know not which—from my outlet, found myself on -my feet, heard myself bellowing, "Water! We've got to stop that fire -before—"</p> - -<p>But they knew that. Already someone had raced to the jets, another -was tugging desperately at a reel of fire hose. I suppose what I did -next was heroic. Either that or damned, blind foolishness. It could -not have been deliberate heroism, for there was no time to measure the -chances, weigh the consequences. I leaped through the doorway, followed -Dr. Mallory. And even so, there was another figure at my side. That of -burly Bruce MacGregor.</p> - -<p>We found him at the same time. He lay face down on the floor, arms -outstretched before him. But in one blistered hand was—the end of the -fuse. Scant inches from its charred end stood piled boxes of Triple-X, -most deadly of all explosives. The flames had not yet quite reached it, -but in another moment—</p> - -<p>Then the water came! Like a solid fist it caught me in the middle of -the back, shot me, sprawling, forward. The breath shot from my lungs -before that impact—but never had I been more grateful for a bruising -blow.</p> - -<p>MacGregor, a sorry sight with his blistered cheeks, scorched hair, -spark-charred garments, bent his brute strength against the flood, -roared directions.</p> - -<p>"Here! On these boxes first! Soak them, ruin them! We can fight the -fire later...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>We got Dr. Mallory out of that furnace. How long we battled the fire -after that is hard to say. At least an hour. Krassner had planned his -coup with deadly Teutonic thoroughness. Not only had he arranged the -fuse and explosive charge; he had also soaked walls, drapes, furniture, -with gasoline.</p> - -<p>Against this, our water was useless. We had no sand. Men labored to -drag the lethal crates of explosive out of the danger zone; after -that we went back at the ever-spreading fire. Chemicals did the trick -finally. The last blaze succumbed to the stifling blanket of carbon -dioxide, a clean-up crew methodically swept up the last of the charred -débris.</p> - -<p>Thus died Krassner—but at what a cost! Ten of my men in the hospital, -at least two of them seriously burned. Three whole bins of provisions -gone forever, devoured by the hungriest of all foes. A binful of -linens, clothing, blankets, burned to cinders. And every other room -that had been in that aft section of the ship gutted!</p> - -<p>All these disasters paled into insignificance when, bandaged, cleaned, -reclad, I went to visit Dr. Mallory. One look at his face and I knew -that here was the heaviest price we were to pay for the destruction -of our last mortal foe. Only Mallory's eyes were visible under the -swaddling mask of bandage, and these were raw and bloodshot. But the -ghost of a smile lighted these fine old eyes, and his voice, sieved -through a layer of gauze, said weakly:</p> - -<p>"I ... reached there in time ... Brian, lad."</p> - -<p>"You did that," I told him huskily. "You saved us all, Doctor."</p> - -<p>"Not only us, but ... mankind. We <i>had</i> to live, Brian. You must -lead ... our people ... out of the wilderness."</p> - -<p>I said, "Not I, Doctor. <i>You.</i> You are the only man who can save us, -reclaim the sleeping world—"</p> - -<p>He said, as though not hearing me, "It's a good ... thing I showed -Maureen ... how to run the ship. Isn't it? Now she can take us to Luna.</p> - -<p>"Brian, boy ... find the notes ... in my desk. They'll help you. I -believe ... you'll find the crater of Copernicus ... the best place to -land. There will be air there. Thin, maybe. But air. In the underground -grottoes ... should be ... water...."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>A spasm shook him; his eyes closed for a moment in pain, then opened -again. They were febrilely bright.</p> - -<p>"Most important of all ... Brian ... the spores. You must find a -way ... to destroy them. Go back to Earth ... and awaken man ... to -a new, a peaceful, world."</p> - -<p>He was silent so long that I cried out, "Doctor!" I couldn't say more.</p> - -<p>But he spoke again, and for the last time. "I am sure now ... Brian ... -you will find the answer ... in chlorophyll. Keep after it. The fate of -all ... mankind ... is in only your...."</p> - -<p>And that was all. His eyes closed, then, as if they had finally found -peace. I turned away. Maureen covered his face tenderly. She came to my -side, and her voice was soft.</p> - -<p>"He was right, Brian. You are our leader now. It is up to you to find -the antidote for Earth's illness."</p> - -<p>I stared at her long and bitterly. My voice must have been harsh.</p> - -<p>"I! I, Maureen? Tell me—do you know the formula for chlorophyll? Do I? -Does anyone aboard this ship, now <i>he</i> is gone?"</p> - -<p>"Don't be upset, Brian. No, we don't—but there's no cause for despair. -It, and everything else you need know, is at our disposal. That's why -he went to such pains to provide a scientific library for the ship. All -man's knowledge lies there, waiting for us to seek it out."</p> - -<p>I took a deep breath. I said, "That's just it, Maureen. I couldn't -bring myself to tell him. But—"</p> - -<p>"But, Brian—?"</p> - -<p>"The library is gone! The books that meant life or death for mankind -are a pile of crumbled ashes!"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>I suppose I should be grateful that we are here. I should be thankful -that Maureen's quick intelligence made it possible for us to land here -at the crater of Copernicus. I look from the window of my little shack. -I see shanties like my own arranged in a crude circle here at the base -of towering mountains.</p> - -<p>Dr. Mallory was right. We have air here, and water. We have enough -provisions to last us for years. By the time those are exhausted, we -will be independent of our Earthly supplies, for already Sanders and -Van Huys have set soil into cultivation; they claim, gleefully, that -this thick, rich, Lunar soil flowers like a desert when watered. And we -have set up plants for the synthesis of water.</p> - -<p>Strange how quickly we have adapted ourselves. We even laugh sometimes, -nowadays. There have been marriages; I suppose that means that in a -little while there will be births. Imagine that! The first Earth child -to be born on the Moon.</p> - -<p>I, too, should be happy. At times I am—comparatively. For I have -Maureen beside me; our love is a great, sustaining force in a -desperate existence.</p> - -<p>But I cannot be completely happy, for night or day I am reminded of -the great, impossible burden that weighs my shoulders low. The Earth, -a massive, glowing globe, lights our sky. Occasionally I think I can -glimpse the gleaming ocean waters of Earth; once, on a clear night, the -familiar outline of our lost homeland, America, was crystal clear to -our eyes.</p> - -<p>Yet all life on that nearby mother planet is, must be, now deep in -everlasting sleep. Everlasting because I am powerless to interrupt it. -Because Mallory's library is no more; because I am a stupid soldier, -not a clever man.</p> - -<p>Only recently there came a wan ray of hope. It was as we were -transferring the last pieces of furniture from the <i>Jefferson</i> to -our shacks. In the berth that had been Danny Wilson's—gay, laughing -Danny!—I found pile upon pile of those amusing, colorful "magazines" -that Danny loved.</p> - -<p>They are old and ragged; many of them are coverless. But most of -them—for such was Danny's preference—are the kind which Mallory once -called "science fiction." Dreams of the world-to-be, pathetic in the -face of that which now confronts us.</p> - -<p>But it is my only ray of hope, these magazines. I brought them to my -shack. I am culling them carefully, one by one. There is a faint, and -oh! so faint, chance that....</p> - -<p>Yet I fear it is a hopeless search. There is so much of fancy in -these little books, so little simple fact. Had but <i>one</i> of those -imaginative writers of years ago thought to include in one of his -stories that which must have been, to him, a commonplace formula—that -for chlorophyll—I could yet do that which Mallory demanded of me. Here -we are rich with ores, the soil teems with every element known to man. -We have a well-equipped laboratory, we could synthesize <i>anything</i>. But -we cannot create this "chlorophyll" because we do not know what it is, -nor what elements combine to form it.</p> - -<p>Hope dwindles as I read. There remains but one more slim pile of -magazines before me. If the answer is not in one of them, then we must -perish. I turn pleading eyes to the past, to the year 1940, before I -was born. But there is no one to hear my plea. Unless, in one of these -remaining—</p> - -<p>(<i>Here the manuscript ends.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">POSTSCRIPT</p> - -<p>Common sense tells me there can be little doubt but that this -"manuscript," purported to be written by one Brian O'Shea, a soldier in -the Army of the Democracies in the year 1963, A.D., is a deliberate and -painstaking hoax.</p> - -<p>Who is responsible for it, I cannot begin to guess. Somehow I -can't bring myself to believe that Dr. Edgar Winslow (whom I have -investigated and found to be exactly what he claimed, a fellow in the -psychology department of one of our nearby Southern universities) would -lend himself to such a fantastic trick.</p> - -<p>But it is hard to believe, also, that Winslow could and did achieve the -perfect telaesthetic rapport evidenced by the foregoing pages.</p> - -<p>But—there was an earnestness about Winslow that stirred me strangely. -He did not have the air of a man perpetrating a fraud. He asked me, you -will remember, to "play the game of caution," even if I did not believe -that which I found in the manuscript.</p> - -<p>I should, perhaps, dismiss the whole thing with a shrug; heave the -"story" back at Winslow with the advice that if he wants to become a -science-fiction writer he should do so honestly, not try to insinuate -his way into print on the byline of another.</p> - -<p>Yet—it is a queer manuscript. It is quiet here in Roanoke today. As -I write, I look from my office windows to see the rolling hills, now -sweet-breasted with fresh green, misted with the soft white of dogwood. -The sky is blue and clear, the sun a warm beneficence. Still, the -morning papers tell of the desperate plight of the Allies. Again they -have lost ground to a grim, mechanized Totalitarian army. Finland, -Norway, Belgium, Holland,—the list grows.</p> - -<p>Mussolini has sent his restless legions to battle; Japan makes overt -gestures toward the Indies. Russia, the patient bear, crouches in the -north, watches ... and waits....</p> - -<p>I don't know. I honestly don't know. The manuscript is probably a hoax. -And yet ... and yet....</p> - -<p>Anyway, here it is, Brian O'Shea. Here is what you asked for. You'll -find it on the cover of this magazine. If this magazine is one of those -through which you still have to search, the world you mourn may yet -blossom anew.</p> - -<p>And because covers, like man's freedom and dreams and hopes, too often -crumble into dust, the formula you want is printed here again, man of -the future.</p> - -<p>C<sub>55</sub>H<sub>70</sub>O<sub>6</sub>N<sub>4</sub>Mg is the empirical formula for chlorophyll, -Brian O'Shea!</p> - -<p>C<sub>55</sub>H<sub>70</sub>O<sub>6</sub>N<sub>4</sub>Mg!</p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ultimate Salient, by Nelson S. 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