diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64561-0.txt | 2263 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64561-0.zip | bin | 40619 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64561-h.zip | bin | 452538 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64561-h/64561-h.htm | 2451 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64561-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 247803 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/64561-h/images/illus.jpg | bin | 162661 -> 0 bytes |
9 files changed, 17 insertions, 4714 deletions
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..dd46d46 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64561 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64561) diff --git a/old/64561-0.txt b/old/64561-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index d413e81..0000000 --- a/old/64561-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2263 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Berserker, by Charles V. De Vet - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: The Berserker - -Author: Charles V. De Vet - -Release Date: February 14, 2021 [eBook #64561] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BERSERKER *** - - - - - THE BERSERKER - - By CHARLES V. DE VET - - _'Twas said of The Berserker ... "when - an opening comes he'll play for it, and - he'll do it with a single-minded violence._" - - [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from - Planet Stories March 1953. - Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that - the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] - - -All of Big Jim Ostby's attention seemed on the cigar as he lit it, but -it was not. He observed the faces of the men who passed him by, and -the figures of those across the street, and up and down the sidewalk. -Satisfied, he moved on. - -Ostby's six feet four, and two hundred thirty-five pounds, were not -conspicuous on this other-dimensional world, where his size was but -little above average. And only the sharpest observer would have noted -the leashed aliveness of the instrument of sinew and muscle which was -his body. - -Deliberately Ostby avoided the shadows. That way lay danger. Reason, -abetted by an instinctive capacity for adaptation, told him blending in -with his background offered the best concealment. - -By now the whole district would know that the police were after him. -He wondered what the latest reports were. Casually he slowed his pace -until two men behind him drew near enough to be overheard. - -"They say the police have the Berserker cornered in our half of the -Flats," one of the men said. - -"If they trap 'im there's gonna be some dead police before the night's -over," the second answered. "He ain't called the Berserker for nothing." - -"I'd hate to be in his shoes. They've got a net around the district -that a fly couldn't get through." - -"I'd hate to be one of the police that corners him." - -"He'll never get away this time." - -"I wouldn't bet against him if I was you. The gamblers in the street -are giving odds of two to one that he makes it." - -"How do you figure he's got a chance?" - -"I don't know. We're not cut out of the right stuff for that kind of -thing. He is. When an opening comes he'll play for it, and he'll do it -with a single-minded violence." - -Suddenly Ostby's attention was drawn to a group of men collected at -the corner ahead. Two thin lines of police were blocking the way and -examining identity cards. He drew in a long, deep breath. Life for him -on this world was one of a series of crises, unforeseen, but stationed -along his way as regularly as mileposts. - -Swiftly, but with studied unconcern, he looked about him. To turn back -here would arouse attention. His cigar had gone out now, and he flicked -it into the gutter. - -To his right was an amusement place. He turned and entered. - -The place was filled with the usual crowd of drinkers and merrymakers. -Ostby found a seat at the bar and ordered a drink. - -A minute later he left his stool and went to the rest room. He had to -plan a way out in case of necessity. There was no back entrance to the -rest room, he saw, and the only window was high above his head. Too -small for a man's body to squeeze through. He'd be trapped if he let -them corner him here. - -Back at the bar he found his drink still waiting. - -"I held your place for you," a woman's soft voice said. - - * * * * * - -Ostby glanced into the full length mirror above the bar. The girl -next to him was young and pretty. He shifted his glance to his own -reflection. The mustache and the little patch of beard between his -chin and lower lip had grown well. His whiskers always came in heavy -and black, and they were the style now. They altered his appearance -considerably. - -Evidently it had not lessened his attraction for the opposite sex. -That attractiveness had been with him so long that he had ceased being -surprised by it. But it still puzzled him. There was strength in the -features of the reflection that looked back at him, he admitted, but -no beauty. Rather the outline was almost harsh, as though etched by a -rough masculine hand. He wondered, without caring, why women were drawn -to it. - -All this retrospection occurred in the split second after he glanced -into the mirror. "I am in your debt," he said, turning to his -companion. His manner and expression was disinterested, even a bit -disdainful. Yet his voice was gentle and courteous. - -Perhaps that contrast was the thing that held women's attention. The -manner seemed to imply a knowledge of their wiles, and an ability to -read through their vanities. Yet his voice told them that he recognized -their womanly need to be appreciated, and coddled, and that he would be -invariably gentle with them. - -"May I buy you a drink?" he asked. - -"My glass is still full," the girl answered, and smiled at him. She did -not look so young now that he saw her face to face. The features were -young, but the eyes were old, and too wise for one of her chronological -age. With his flameless lighter Ostby lit the white oval which the girl -drew from its package and placed between her full red lips. - -All the while Ostby's eyes made their swift survey of the room and -stamped its every feature in his eidetic memory. Only one exit, -other than the front door, he saw. The windows were all about seven -feet above the floor, and banded with burglar-bars. A man would have -difficulty gaining entrance or exit. - -At the opposite end of the room he observed a small dance floor and a -mechanical music box. His attention was held for a moment by a party -seated in a booth at the edge of the dance floor. The men and women in -the booth were too well dressed, too well bred, to be down here in the -Flats. - -The apex of the party was a woman whose beauty attracted Ostby clear -across the room. - -"Who are the people in the back booth?" he asked his companion. - -"The Duchess of North Hudson," the girl answered, wrinkling her nose in -affected hauteur. "She's slumming. Seeing how the other half lives." - -"Does she come often?" - -"Only when she gets tired of being a lady. Right now she's celebrating -her separation from her second husband." - -Abruptly Ostby sensed something was wrong. - -He glanced into the mirror. At the door stood a half dozen of the -police. His gaze shifted to the rear entrance. He saw another party of -police there. - -"If you'll excuse me," he said to the girl, as he stepped down from his -stool, "I believe I'll have a word with the Duchess." - -The girl's mouth made a round O as he left her. - -Ostby paused directly in front of the Duchess. Her attention swept up -to him. - -"My name is Captain Faas, formerly of the Imperator's private guards," -he said, bowing deeply enough to show courtesy, but not so deeply as to -seem subservient. "May I be so bold as to hope that the Duchess has not -forgotten me?" - -There was no recognition in the Duchess's look but there was interest. - -"Should I remember you?" she asked. - -"It was my privilege to meet her grace at the winter games a few years -ago," Ostby answered. The look he gave her was appreciative of what he -saw. - -The Duchess returned the look without recognition, but with amused -acknowledgment of a clever approach. "Of course," she said. "How could -I have forgotten? Won't you join us?" - -"You are very kind," Ostby said. From the corner of his eye he saw that -the soldiers were drawing nearer. They were demanding identity cards -from all the men. "If I may presume on that kindness," he said to the -Duchess, "would you do me the honor of dancing with me?" - -The Duchess hesitated for a barely perceptible instant. "I would be -happy to," she said. - - * * * * * - -The Duchess danced well. Ostby followed the waltz piece with a fine -sense of the music's rhythm that women love. - -The Duchess' dress was worn off her rounded shoulders and each breath -stirred the fullness of her breasts against the dress. - -At the side of the dance floor he saw that a lieutenant of the police -was waiting politely for them to finish their dance. The big test would -come soon. - -"You say we met at the winter games," the Duchess mused. She looked up -at Ostby. "We danced at the ball after the games, did we not?" - -"That's right," Ostby answered, while one part of his mind considered -the problem of the lieutenant waiting for them. "That is why I asked -you to dance. I'd hoped it would recall our acquaintance." - -"Acquaintance is such a formal word," the Duchess said teasingly, and -Ostby knew, without pride, that she was reacting to that intangible -something about him that pleased women. He looked down into her eyes -and noted just a suggestion of permanent crinkles at the corners. He -judged her age as about thirty-three, seven years older than himself. - -"I assure you that I feel anything but formal when I hold you in my -arms," he answered, following her lead. He made her feel desirable by -the things he expressed in his glance. - -In the meantime the other portion of Ostby's mind had made its decision -concerning the lieutenant. - -"I see the police are making another of their nuisance spot-checks," -he said. "I'm afraid I'm due to go through a bit of red tape. I've -misplaced my identity card." - -"I hear they're tracking down some notorious criminal," the Duchess -answered. Abruptly her glance, full of sudden speculation, swept up and -studied his face. After a short pause she said something that at first -thought sounded irrelevant. "I've never danced at the winter games," -she said. - -Ostby drew in a quick breath. She knew! - -The lieutenant was beside them now. - -"You won't need to see his identity card, officer. He's with me," Ostby -heard the Duchess say, and he let his breath out in a long silent sigh. - -The lieutenant was not satisfied, but he was clearly afraid to press -matters. He bowed to the Duchess as they walked past him. - - * * * * * - -Ostby lay on his back, with his knees drawn up and his hands beneath -his head. His eyes shifted idly about the room, taking in its every -feature automatically. It was this automatic attention to details -that had always helped him land on his feet in the past whenever he -had been in trouble. And he might be in trouble now. Too much of his -trust rested with the Duchess--Rinda, she had asked him to call her. -His entire safety rested in her fair hands--and he did not like it. He -liked to trust no one except himself. - -Ostby had accepted the invitation to visit her because he needed a -place to hide; and because she knew too much for him to do anything -except agree. But he would have chosen otherwise had he had a choice. - -However, his reason told him that she had not taken him from the grip -of the police to turn him in now. - -And so he lay quietly, with the relaxed alertness of a resting cat. His -thoughts were back on Earth. - -When he had taken this assignment to come through the "door" between -the worlds, he had known that there would be hardships, and that his -life would be continually in danger, but it was moments like these that -he hated the most--moments when he was not able to dictate the next -step. - -Approximately twenty years earlier--in 1950--the aliens had somehow -made their "door" between the worlds; that "door" which never appeared -twice in the same spot. At first they had been content to come in, -circle their noiseless vessels through the air as they observed the -Earth, then return through their shifting "door." They had refused -all contact. Then gradually evidence began to come in that they -were raiding undefended areas, abducting men and stealing property. -Their depredations increased through the years until eventually they -constituted a major menace. - -There was no effective defense against them. Now and then one of their -air ships was shot down but invariably it exploded before crashing. -At last, in desperation, the United Governments had attempted to get -operatives through with the captured persons. Ostby was one of the few -instances of success. - -For six months now, by dint of adroit maneuvering and luck, he had -managed to stay alive, but he was no nearer to closing the "door." - -Impatiently Ostby climbed to his feet and began pacing the room. He had -never been able to get used to these rooms, with no corners, and all -their furniture in the center. But they made for convenient pacing. - -Had he been wrong in his estimate of the Duchess, he wondered. She had -appeared too much woman to let matters of the state come ahead of her -private affairs. Suddenly he stopped in mid-stride as there came a -gentle tapping on his door. He had not been wrong! - - - II - -The Duchess had been a woman of her word, Ostby reflected, as he leaned -against the counter sipping his drink. Knowing full well who he was, -she had allowed him to leave, making no demands of him, and inviting -him back whenever he cared to come. She was quite a woman. Some day, if -and when he was able to clear up this business, he would return. - -Now the time had come for him to change tactics. He had been able to -accomplish nothing by playing a lone hand. He needed help. When you -opposed the police the best place to seek help--he had decided--was -among others who broke the law. Thus he returned to the Flats, hangout -of the underworld. - -To make his contact with the underworld the first step should be some -spectacular move that would focus their attention on him. "Fill it up," -he said, sliding his glass along the bar. From his pocket he drew a -thick roll of bills, a thickness caused by paper padding. - -He paid for his drink and laid the roll carelessly at his elbow. - -A minute went by and he felt someone slide in beside him. From the -corner of his eye Ostby observed his companion. When he saw a hand -close over the bills, he reached swiftly over and gripped the wrist of -the hand that held the money. "Drop it," he said. - -The thief's lips parted over stained teeth, but he said nothing. For a -moment he stared back, viciously, then he shifted his body slightly and -Ostby felt a knife point pierce the flesh of his right side and come -to rest against his ribs. "Let go, bud." The thief spoke low without -moving his lips. - -Ostby hunched his shoulders and twisted his body around in a half -circle. As the thug went off balance Ostby pulled forward, still -gripping the wrist, and threw him over his shoulder. The thug struck -the floor on the flat of his back, and the wind left his lungs. He lay -for a moment, his body doubled up, and one leg kicking spasmodically, -as he fought for breath. Ostby bent over, picked up his money, and -leaned backward, with his elbows resting against the bar, and watched -the struggling man. - -All the fight had left the thief by the time he regained his breath. He -cast one venomous look at Ostby as he climbed to his feet, and left the -drinking place. - -The preliminaries were over. Now to await the main action. It was not -long in coming. - -"That was pretty rough treatment," a coarse voice near Ostby said. -He turned his head. The man had a day's growth of whiskers, and a -long scar stretched his mouth into a permanent grin. Ostby shrugged -noncommittally and turned back to his drink. - -"You a stranger in town?" the man persisted. - -Ostby nodded, as he frowned and brought his attention back to the -harsh-voiced man. - -"I'm not being nosey," the man said, "but you handle yourself like -a lad who's been around. And you must be afraid of the law or you -wouldn't be hanging out down here. Right?" - -Ostby turned and faced the stranger squarely. "Is it any of your -business?" he asked belligerently. - -The man held up his hand. "Take it easy," he said. "I'm looking for a -fellow like you. Do you have the guts to kill a man?" - - * * * * * - -Ostby found a cellar window unlocked. He crawled through and let his -legs hang down. When they touched a floor he pulled himself completely -in. He paused and let his eyes become adjusted to the semi-dark. - -At the end of the cellar he could make out a short flight of stairs. - -Ostby climbed the stairs and softly opened the door. Directly in front -of him, but half way across the room, a fat man sat in an over-stuffed -armchair. He sat so quietly that at first Ostby thought that he was -dead. - -Only when he reached the fat man's side did he see that the slate gray -eyes of the man had been watching him since he entered. - -"If you were able to get this far," the fat man said, still not moving -a muscle, "my guards have been bought off." - -"You're Siggen?" Ostby asked. - -"Who else?" Siggen twisted his lips into an ironic smile and bowed his -head. "I'm Siggen, head of the thieves of Yarr. And you're here to kill -me. May I ask who sent you?" - -"Can't you guess?" - -"Many men would like to see me dead. Most of them are afraid to try it -themselves. Just as the one who sent you is afraid. But don't bother -telling me who did it. Roka has coveted my place for a long time." - -Ostby said nothing. - -"I trusted too much in my guards," Siggen said, more to himself than -to Ostby. "My reputation must have sunk low if they allowed themselves -to be bought." He sighed. "Perhaps it's no use trying to save this old -hulk, but hope dies hard." For a moment his tired face showed stark -and very naked in the light of the lamp. And somehow Ostby felt a bond -of sympathy with the old man. "How much will you take to spare my life?" - -"What will you pay?" Ostby asked. - -"Roka probably paid you a thousand heds," Siggen answered. "I'll pay -you ten thousand." - -"A fair enough exchange," Ostby said. "Except that I don't want money." - -"Then what do you want?" - -"I want help--to enter the Stalls. And to get out again with my life." - -"A simple order, for Siggen." The fat man had his vanity. "Give me a -day to plan it. You have my word." - -"Can I depend on it?" - -"Men have said many things about Siggen, but never that his word was -not good." - -"Then it's settled," Ostby said. "I'll be back tomorrow." - -"Just a minute before you go." The old man unclasped his puffy hands. -"You are an unusual man and you intrigue me. Would you mind telling me -your name?" - -"Not at all. It's James Ostby." - -"Ostby ... Ostby ..." the fat man pondered slowly. Then his head came -up. "The Berserker!" he said. He whistled low, under his breath. "Tell -me," he said, "why have we never met before. Or, if not, why are we -meeting now?" - -Ostby shrugged. "Perhaps because I have little confidence in others." - -"You do have the reputation of being a lone wolf." Siggen remarked -slowly. "After this business is over I'd be glad to consider -consolidating our, ah, talents. We could go far together." - -"You offer me this when you know me so little?" - -"The best test of good relations between men is an instinctive liking," -Siggen said. "I feel we have this, plus a common purpose." - -"I'll think it over," Ostby replied. "In the meantime I'll expect -results tomorrow." - -Ostby lay flat on his stomach with his head facing the window in front -of him. The window was set flush with the floor and he had a good view -of the Stalls across the street. - -The Stalls was a squat, three-story building, with a basement and a -sub-basement. The upper three stories were occupied by government -offices. The basement housed the heating equipment and was used as a -storage space. But it was the sub-basement that gave the place its -name. Here the slaves were kept until sold. - - * * * * * - -The deserted office room in which Ostby lay had been closed for many -months, and it was hot inside, and close. The sun shining through the -windows added to the heat, and the film of moisture that bathed his -body had long since developed small rivulets that collected in sodden -patches of his clothing. - -"How much longer will it be, Groves?" Ostby asked. - -"There's no way of knowing." The young man who sat with his back -resting against the wall had wilted under the heat and crawled over out -of the sunlight. "As soon as it's safe," he said. "Let me know if you -see anyone coming out." - -"I thought Siggen had fixed it so we could get in without any trouble?" - -"He bribed the guards," Groves replied. "But you saw those two men go -in. I recognized one of them as Boorrls of the secret police. They're -liable to turn up any place, any time. We'd be sticking our necks out -to go in while they're there." - -For another ten minutes neither man said a word. A big drop of moisture -collected on the cleft in the middle of Ostby's chin. He wished he were -certain that he could trust Groves. Groves was an open-faced young -man with candor in his blue eyes, and a ready smile that asked for -confidence, but somewhere in the man's makeup was a black streak, Ostby -reckoned. - -All morning Ostby's infallible intuition had throbbed a slow pulse -of warning. He knew better than to disregard that warning but when -he turned to thieves for help he had no right to expect sterling -characters for companions. - -Siggen should have enough control over his men to make Groves afraid -to double-cross him. And, strangely enough, Ostby trusted Siggen. His -intuition told him that Siggen was a man true to his own principles, -distorted though they might be. - -Ostby had seen another facet of Siggen's character that morning. When -he had returned to the house Siggen had introduced him to Groves, and -the three of them had gone down into the fat man's basement. - -"I want to show you a pretty sight," Siggen said. - -Lying on the basement floor was the body of a man. A knife was buried -in his throat. The dead mouth that smiled up at Ostby was widened by a -long scar. - -"What will we do when we get in the Stalls?" Groves interrupted Ostby's -reflections. - -Ostby did not answer, but turned his head to look at the young man, -long and levelly. - -"It's none of my business, of course," Groves added hurriedly, "but I -won't be much help in case of trouble if I don't even know what you're -trying to do." - -"If trouble comes we just get out as fast as we can." - -"You aren't going to try to get one of the slaves out, are you? You -told Siggen that you only wanted to get in, and get out again." - -"That's all I want." - -"It you're trying to close the 'door,' what would you want in...." -Abruptly Groves stopped talking. Ostby read the dismay in his voice as -he realized that he had said too much. - -Ostby rolled over on his side, bringing his gun up and firing in the -same motion. Groves had his own gun drawn when the slug caught him in -the forehead and slapped his head back as though riding the blow of a -fist. Slowly he fell sideways along the wall. - -Ostby was on his feet immediately. He'd have to move fast now, he knew. -No one but the police, or someone high in the Imperator's confidence, -would know that he was here to close the "door" between the worlds. -Groves had made a bad slip. - -In Groves' right rear pocket Ostby found a black billfold. Inside was -a white card with the word, _Confidential_, written on it. He found -nothing else of interest. But that was enough to wipe away Ostby's last -doubt. Sweat broke out anew on his forehead as he realized how close -the trap had come to closing around him. He might be too late already. - -On the other hand, he reflected, perhaps this would be the moment when -boldness would accomplish more than it ever could have in the past. He -had been able to get nowhere in the past months with caution, and this -time, being so close, he would not turn back. - - - III - -Ostby entered the Stalls through a back door. The building was built on -a hill. At the front, the first floor was on the ground level. But the -door Ostby entered opened into the sub-basement. - -The card he had taken from Groves gained him ready admittance. He -flashed it once again to the clerk seated at a desk in the inner -office. The clerk nodded respectfully and Ostby went through into the -main section of the sub-basement; the section housing the slaves. - -The stench that struck his nostrils was nauseating. It stank of men too -closely crowded, of unwashed bodies, and of inadequate sanitation. - -The place was dimly lit. - -Ostby waved back the "trusty" who came forward to meet him, and went -alone along the stalls. At each gate he paused to look through the -thick mesh wire at the hope-deadened specimens who lay apathetically on -the uncleaned floor. Some of the prisoners were criminals of the state, -but most of them were captive Earth people. - -Ostby did not pause long at any compartment until he reached one in the -corner of the huge room. He studied the creature seated in a wall-crook -staring back at him. The slave's beard was an inch long and his -features were hardly recognizable, yet something about him held Ostby's -attention. - -After a short minute Ostby said, "Detroit," in a low tone. - -The prisoner did not move but his eyes glinted in the dim light as he -opened them wider. His lips formed the sound, "Tigers," as he answered -the code word. - -"What have they done with Rohr?" Ostby asked. - -"I'm afraid you're too late," the slave answered. "The guard took him -away yesterday--through that door, over on the far side. If he's still -alive, they're probably torturing him right now." - -"I'll be back," Ostby said, and he walked rapidly toward the door the -prisoner had indicated. - -Once inside Ostby flashed his card at the guard sitting on a desk, -paring his fingernails. "Where's the spy?" he asked briskly. - -"Straight through," the guard answered. "Inspector Boorrls is working -on him now." - -In the back room Ostby closed the door behind him and stood with his -back against it. The two men standing in the center of the room turned -to look at him. He let the silence grow thin without speaking. It was -with an effort that he kept his eyes from the figure that hung by its -wrist tendons, on steel hooks suspended from the ceiling. - -The taller of the two men shifted his feet uncomfortably, and wiped his -right palm along the leg of his trousers. "What do you want?" he asked -irritably. - -Ostby drew his card from his pocket and showed it to them. "I'm direct -from the Imperator," he said. "Which one of you is Boorrls?" - -"I am," the tall man answered. - -"Have you made him talk yet?" - -"No. He's stubborn as all hell. But he'll talk soon or I'll kill him." - -"That's what the Imperator was afraid of," Ostby said bleakly. "And -that's why he sent me. Now get out while I try to save what you may -have lost already with your stupidity." - -For a moment the inspector seemed determined to bluff it out. "What did -you say?" he asked pugnaciously. - -"I said get out!" Ostby's voice did not rise, but there was no -mistaking the threat behind it. - -Boorrls broke easily. He was a bully. "C'mon, Jorg," he mumbled and the -two men left the room. - - * * * * * - -The figure suspended on the hooks could not see Ostby. Where his eyes -had been were now only bloody orifices. His stomach was cut to ribbons -and the inside organs showed through. He was beyond the help of any -doctor. - -He seemed to have recognized Ostby's voice. His lips and tongue moved -agonizingly as he strove to speak. When he finally succeeded his voice -came from far back in his throat--hardly more than a whisper. "For -God's sake," the voice croaked, "kill me! Please!" - -Ostby repressed a shudder as he gently touched the tortured man's leg. - -They had picked him, back on Earth, for this job because his was a -sensitive organism, keyed with "high survival characteristics." - -His nervous system was geared exceptionally high, and its acute -reflexes with their delicate balance of intricate excitations made his -response to stimuli proportionately more rapid than that of other men. - -Yet this very sensitiveness of brain and nerve fiber made the brutal -circumstances with which he was forced to cope all the more difficult -to endure. It was ironical that the very qualities that made him the -most fit for this dangerous kind of work, made him suffer the greatest -under its harshness. - -Ostby could remember how, even as a child, he had suffered through this -keenness of emotional reaction. His empathy with any person or animal -in distress always caused him pain nearly as great as that of the -sufferer. - -In later years he had developed a philosophy that helped carry him -through most of those trying times. He had never exactly defined that -philosophy but it encompassed the ability to recognize "the little -things as little, and the big things as big; and to laugh in the face -of the inevitable, to smile even at the looming death." - -This philosophy was never able to give him the shell of hardness which -would have shielded him from most of the meanness of the world, but it -had given him the strength to bear it. - -Now the suffering of the wretched creature before him played along -Ostby's nerves like a live flame. - -"Everything will be over in a minute," he said softly. He opened his -shirt front and exposed a mesh-weave vest fitted close against his -skin. In the innumerable pockets of the vest he carried everything he -owned on this world. - -From one of the pockets he drew a hypodermic syringe with a plastic -vial filled with light green liquid. He pushed the needle into the -flesh of the hanging man's leg, and pressed the plunger home. - -A moment later the suspended figure sighed once, long and gratefully, -and was still. They would never be able to torture him again. - -Ostby studied the mechanism that held the hooks, but could find no way -to lower the body. Impatiently he pulled a chair over and stood on it. -He probed the body's thin left forearm with his thumbs until he found -the spot he sought. - -Drawing a sharp scalpel from his vest he cut a thin slit through the -flesh. When he felt the blade touch something solid he probed deeply -into the cut and brought out a small, innocuous appearing capsule. The -cut did not bleed and Ostby pressed its sides together. It appeared no -different than many of the other cuts on the emaciated body. - -He hesitated no longer than it took to pick the exact spot he wanted on -his own forearm. If they had been unable to find the hiding place on -Rohr, it should serve as well for him. - -With almost surgical skill he cut a small slit in the flesh of his -forearm. Probing with the scalpel until he had opened a small pocket, -he placed the capsule in the opening and forced it down. From the vest -he removed a flat carton and sprinkled sulpha powder into the cut. In -a few days time it would heal and there would be no mark left of the -hiding place. If he could only buy that few days' time! - -Ostby stepped through into the outer office. Boorrls and his aide -were nowhere about. That could be dangerous. His time was undoubtedly -running short. - -Ostby walked back to the stall of the prisoner he had conferred with -earlier, at the same time motioning the trusty over to him. "Open this -stall and let me in," he commanded. - -"Lock it again and leave us alone," he said to the trusty as he -entered. The trusty obeyed and left. - -Ostby turned immediately to the prisoner. "This is it," he said. "We'll -have to move fast." He took a flat tube from one of his vest pockets -and tossed it over. "First, get rid of that beard. But be sure to leave -a mustache and a chin beard like mine." - -The slave applied the depilatory to his beard. "What about Rohr?" he -asked. - -"Dead," Ostby answered laconically as he removed his clothes. - -Neither said anything more as the slave washed his face and wet his -hair from a trough of dirty water. In the meantime Ostby dirtied his -own face and hands. The slave stripped and they exchanged clothes. - -"Rattle on the gate," Ostby said after they finished. "It's not very -bright in here, and with that mustache and beard you should pass for me -without any trouble. But don't give them more chance than necessary to -spot the deception by wasting any time." - -Five minutes later Ostby was alone--just another grimy slave curled up -in his filthy sty. A perfect hideout. The last place they would look -for him. - - * * * * * - -Sometime during the morning of the third day Ostby was awakened by the -rattling of the wire gate of his stall. He rolled over on his side and -looked out. The trusty who brought him his food twice a day was shaking -the gate. - -"On your feet," he said, "and make it snappy." - -Ostby climbed erect without argument. He had no intention of directing -attention to himself by making trouble. By now his black hair and beard -were matted with dirt, his skin was soiled with many thicknesses of -grime, and he stunk with the stench of the prison blocks. - -A few minutes later a short man--approximately six feet tall, but -short for these people--bustled importantly forward. He was dressed -in lace-adorned dress which proclaimed him one of this world's -aristocracy. The newcomer eyed Ostby disdainfully for a moment and then -passed on without a word. - -Later the self-important dandy returned with the trusty in tow. He -stopped in front of Ostby's cage. "Bring him out here where I can get a -better look at him," he ordered. - -The trusty unlocked the gate and Ostby shuffled out. - -"He's a filthy looking beast," the nobleman remarked, as he slowly -circled Ostby. He evidenced only the interest of a man appraising an -animal. "However, he seems to have a splendid body beneath those layers -of dirt. I'll take him, but I suppose I'll find him rotten with disease -when I have him cleaned up." - -The trusty and one of the guards snapped a leg-iron around Ostby's left -ankle while the nobleman went into the office to pay for his purchase. -They led Ostby out to a waiting carriage and secured the other end of -his leg-iron to a bolt set in the floor of the carriage. Two of the -nobleman's liveried servants seated themselves on either side of Ostby. -The nobleman sat across from them. - -They drove for almost a half-hour before the carriage stopped in front -of a low, one-storied stone building. No one spoke. The servants -alighted, and one of them unlocked Ostby's leg-iron from its bolt in -the floor. - -"Step down," the nearest servant said. - -Ostby obeyed and they walked, with Ostby again between them, toward the -stone house. The nobleman remained in the carriage. - -One of the servants opened the unlocked door of the stone house and the -other shoved Ostby through the doorway. They closed the door behind -him, and he stood in a dark room, blinded by the sudden change from -bright sunlight. The first sight that met his eyes, as they adjusted to -the dim light lurking under the drawn shades, was the familiar one of a -fat man slumped in an easy chair! - -"Welcome to my new abode," Siggen said. - -The events of the past hour snapped into place in Ostby's mind in an -instant and he evidenced no surprise as he smiled back at Siggen. He -even debated with himself whether or not Siggen had done him a service -by taking him from his foolproof hiding place so soon. But then he had -another in mind that should serve as well if he had not underestimated -his influence with the Duchess, Rinda. - -"You pay your debts, I see," he said. - -"Siggen's word is his bond," the fat man said. "I told you I would get -you in and get you out. Our bargain is now complete." - -"Your man put on a good act as a nobleman," Ostby said. "He fooled me -as completely as he did the guards." - -"It was no act," Siggen replied. "He is a nobleman. But he owed Siggen -a favor." - -"Good work," Ostby said. "Accept my thanks. Incidentally, I suppose you -know by now that your man, Groves, was a secret agent?" - -"No, I did not," Siggen answered. "I wondered why he never returned. I -presume you took care of him?" - -"Yes," Ostby replied. - -"Good," Siggen said. "I almost missed knowing they had you. The reports -were that the Berserker had been shot leaving the Stalls. But I sent a -man to check on it and he reported that the man shot by the police was -not you." - -So poor Barbasiewiez had not gotten away, Ostby reflected sadly. And -Rohr, too, was dead. That left him completely alone. But he had made -some progress. He had the capsule. If the Duchess would hide him until -he was ready for his next action he might still be able to close the -"door." "Can you get me a carriage?" he asked Siggen. - - * * * * * - -"I think you'd be taking too big a chance if you went to the palace, -even with the crowd there for the ball," the Duchess said. - -Her anxiety made Ostby a bit uncomfortable. Their flirtation was no -longer a game with her. He felt a bit guilty whenever he observed, by -the thousand little signs she gave, that she was in love with him. - -In ordinary times he might have loved her, also; but he was a man who -never did things by halves. He had come to this world for one purpose, -and he would not allow himself to be diverted from it--not even by a -woman so fascinating as Rinda! - -He looked at her now, beside him, with her rich brown hair done up in a -pug on the back of her neck, and intertwined with a string of matched -pearls; her soft skin, which the sun had turned to the shade of golden -honey; and her red lips. - -She returned the look, her blue eyes warm with love. She was a tall -woman, well-formed, and she rested languidly against her cushions, but -deep within Ostby could read the quiescent female vitality that rode -her always. - -"I'm afraid that I have no choice," he said gently. "It's something -that I must do." - -He was glad that she had never questioned him in the week he had been -with her, since his escape from the Stalls. She knew only that he was -doing something unlawful, and that the police wanted him badly. - -But she was a temperamental woman, Ostby knew, and her moods were as -sudden and mercurial as a tropic storm. Now he observed one of those -sudden changes building up within her. - -"I've decided not to let you go," she said. "It's too dangerous." - -Ostby had had enough experience with her to know that temporizing was -useless. It hurt him to be brutal, especially when he realized that -her stubbornness was prompted by concern for him, but he could not let -himself be detained now. "I must," he said, "and there's no use our -arguing about it." - -"I said you're not going," she repeated. - -"If you wish, I'll return when I'm able," Ostby said, rising. - -She, too, recognized the inflexible spirit in him, and passion flared -up suddenly in her face. A flush of blood darkened the olive of her -skin. She twisted in sudden fury and buried her teeth in the flesh of -his wrist. - -Ostby reached over with his free hand and dug his fingers deeply into -the ridge of her jawbone. - -"I'll kill you for that!" she gritted, releasing her grip. - -Ostby knew they had gone too far now for any hope of reconciliation. -He bent her arms behind her back and bound them tightly with the long -sleeves of her gown. - -The Duchess was relaxed now, making no attempt to resist him. Her face -had gone hard and the skin was stretched tightly across her cheekbones. - -She said nothing as he bound her feet and gagged her. But the venom in -her eyes made him pause. This woman was not soft, he saw, and he knew -he had made an enemy who would be ruthless. He did not look back as he -left the room but he could feel her gaze following him--hating him, as -only a frustrated woman can hate! - - - IV - -He glanced up at the huge square frame of the palace, crouched like -a great machine waiting to devour him. There was something about the -building that was subtle, mysterious, luring. Engraved in deep convex -letters above the door was the motto of the Imperator: THE WORLD -BELONGS TO THE STRONG. Now for the first time, Ostby thought, he was -to meet that controversial figure face to face. - -There was no formal greeting of the entering guests. Two liveried -servants stood at either side of the entrance, eyeing, politely but -carefully, each entrant. They did not stop Ostby and he passed through -the doorway. He deposited his outer wrap with still other servants -inside, and mingled unobtrusively with the guests in the wide entrance -hall. - -For a half-hour Ostby loitered about the edge of the thickening crowd, -wearing an expression of abstract concentration that discouraged -conversation. At the end of that time the Imperator had not appeared. -Ostby decided to wait no longer. - -Walking casually down a long corridor that led into the palace he began -his search for the man he wanted. The occasional servants he met asked -no questions. They merely nodded politely and went about their duties. - -When he came to a long circular stairway he walked quickly up. He knew -that the closer he came to his goal the greater would be the risk. But -this was not the time for surreptitious conniving. Only action would -produce results now. - -A door opened suddenly behind him and a voice said, "Keep walking." - -Strangely Ostby was glad to hear the voice. - -"I'm not moving," he said. - -A gun pressed against his back and he knew the time had come to act. -Pivoting on the balls of his feet he knocked aside the hand that held -the gun with his left arm. As he completed the pivot he aimed his right -fist at the stranger's face. - -His assailant rolled with the blow and it caught him with glancing -force on the chin. But it was hard enough to drive him off his feet. - -Ostby followed swiftly, but his opponent turned like a cat and kicked -both feet into his stomach. The kick knocked the breath from Ostby's -lungs. Black circles ringed his vision and the only thing that worked -then was instinct. He grabbed at the ankles as the man's feet came up -again. Letting the momentum of the kick furnish most of the power, he -pulled on the ankles in a circular jerk that lifted the man clear off -the floor. - -Ostby swung him around in a wide circle, scraping his head and -shoulders on the wall of the hallway, before releasing his grip. The -gunman crashed unconscious against the far wall. - -Ostby took two steps forward, and a blinding light bathed his body! He -turned, raising one leg to retreat, and found himself fighting with an -awful exertion to set it down again! - -The air had become viscous, and he took one step that felt as though he -were walking in freshly mixed cement. The cement hardened rapidly and -held him rigid. Next his vision blurred, and he stood with all power of -motion gone. His respiratory function was his only movement. - - * * * * * - -He was no longer rational enough to judge when the agony in his muscles -changed their tenor to the sensation of a thousand needles being -stabbed into his flesh. Somehow he knew that this meant the paralysis -was leaving. - -The first muscles to free themselves were those in the lids of his -eyes. He opened them and found himself staring into the iciest, most -emotionless eyes he had ever seen. Strangely enough they were brown -eyes yet they gave the definite impression of being colorless. - -The eyes were in a face carved with lines of craglike pride. -Strength and ruthlessness breathed in every feature. Ostby needed no -introduction to know that the face belonged to the Imperator! - -A voice said, "He can see and hear now. But his power of speech and -movement won't return for a few minutes." The voice came from Ostby's -right. He was unable to turn to see who spoke. - -The Imperator smiled. "My Name is Magogar," he said to Ostby in a voice -an octave lower then normal. "I've been waiting a long time to meet -you." - -Ostby returned the look, wordlessly--all he was capable of doing. - -"We'll begin our discussion," Magogar said, "with my telling you that I -know you are the one they call the Berserker, what your mission is, and -much else about you that you may not suspect. On the other hand, there -are many things you do not know about me, and, strange as it may seem, -there are some things concerning yourself that you do not know. - -"When you were first brought into our world," Magogar continued, "you -made the mistake of confiding in several of your fellow captives, -thinking that they would aid you. Needless to say, one of them talked. -That last I probably don't have to tell you; you must have guessed, -because you made your escape soon after. You didn't even try your -preconcocted story." - -"You knew about that too?" Ostby asked, and was surprised that he was -able to speak again. - -"Yes. You were right in believing that your confidants would be -sympathetic to your schemes, but you forgot one thing. Men can be made -to talk." - -Ostby had recovered some of his self-possession by this time. "If you -know, tell me what that plan was," he said. - -"Certainly," Magogar replied. He rose to his feet and walked with long -strides about the room. Ostby was surprised at the breath and girth of -the man. At first glance he appeared squat. But that appearance was -a deception caused by his great bulk. He was as tall as Ostby, but -heavier of bone, and must have weighed a hundred pounds more. He walked -heavily, each step landing forcefully on the heel of the foot. - -"One of our ships," the Imperator said, "read your distress signal of -colored rocks and picked you up. Your story was to be that you were -a survivor of a ship of ours which crashed twenty years earlier. I -believe you had established quite an authentic story. Your mother and -father had been hurt, and died several years after the crash, you said. -But not before they had taught you, their six-year-old son, to care for -himself, to pass as one of the people of the world in which you found -yourself, and last, how to establish contact with us. It was a good -story, and its background was authentic. Tell me, why did you decide -not to use it?" - -Ostby shrugged. "Mainly because I made the mistake of confiding my -plans to several of your prisoners. And you forced one of them to talk." - -Unexpectedly Magogar no longer seemed to be paying attention to Ostby. -He had turned his head and was looking to his left. It was then Ostby -remembered that he had made no effort to discover to whom the other -voice he had heard belonged. The thought of it now made him realize -how much his faculties had been dulled by their session under the -paralysis. Ordinarily, by this time he would have had every detail -of the room catalogued in his mind. He hastened now to correct the -omission. - -The sight that met his eyes as he turned his head was one that would -stay with him for all the years of his life! - -A square, paneled box, supported by four sturdy legs, rested against -the wall, across the room from them. In the center of the box was a -large eye! - -The eye had no pupil; its entire surface was one of mottled streaks -of gray, pink, and black. The colors slowly flowed and changed, -following a seemingly erratic pattern. It was the weirdest sight -Ostby ever expected to see. And behind and through it all glowed -intelligence--human, reasoning intelligence! - -Vaguely, through his momentary funk, Ostby heard the Imperator's voice, -"Allow me to introduce you to the Brain." - -Then those vague rumors he had heard had been true, Ostby reflected, or -at least some facets of them. He had heard talk--which he had regarded -as superstitions--that the Imperator possessed the living brain of -a man long dead, a brain of infinite wisdom, and possessing all the -knowledge there was to be had. Ostby was forced to believe in its -existence now, for here he was faced with the living proof. - -Once again Magogar's words interrupted his reverie. But the words were -not directed at him. "He's here now. What did you want to ask before I -have him killed?" - -"You may change your mind about that after you hear what I have to -say," a voice from the box answered. "You call yourself Ostby," it -said. "Do you remember your father or your mother?" - -Ostby stared at the apparition, not answering. The reality of the -present situation, and yet its impossibility, was overwhelming. - -The voice in the box continued. "I believe that I am safe in assuming -that you do not remember them. I would like now to give you a -hypothetical problem. If we were to assume that everything upon which -you built your life were false: that the men you trusted lied to you: -that you are not even who and what you believe you are ... what would -you do?" - -The voice paused, but Ostby remained silent and it went on, "The -records of the people of our world, who crashed in yours, I assume you -studied very carefully. That would be necessary to make your planned -deception more effective. Their names were Shemolang and Roelang. Am I -correct?" - -Ostby nodded. The Brain went on. "Shemolang was no ordinary man. He was -first in line for the Imperator office, after Magogar." - -The voice shifted its focus by some subtle change of the vision in the -eye, and Ostby knew that it no longer addressed him. "Will you look in -the files and find a picture there of Shemolang, Magogar?" - -The Imperator brought his attention to alertness with an obvious effort -of will. He had been listening as intently as Ostby. Now he rose and -walked to the indicated files. - -After a minute he drew a picture from one of the files and studied -it. The Imperator gasped and murmured, "I had almost forgotten how he -looked." - -"Show the picture to Mr. Ostby, will you please?" the Brain said. - -Ostby took the picture and the first glance sent a shock through his -system that started as a weight in the pit of his stomach and flooded -his body like fever. The picture that looked back at him was very -nearly a replica of himself! - -"Your father," the Brain interrupted his thoughts. "You not only have -had a vast deception practiced upon you, but you have been fighting -your own people!" - - - V - -That night Ostby slept very little. In his thoughts two emotions -fought for dominance. On the one side were the people of Earth--he -still thought of it as his Earth. He had lived with them; they were -his friends; their problems and joys had always been his--until now. -The menace to them had been his to share, and to help eliminate. He -had accepted this assignment knowing that, at best, he would never be -able to return; at worst, that he would be killed. And he had taken it -willingly. - -Now he knew that he had been duped. He had been an alien among the -people he loved. And they had sent him to fight his own kind! - -His final decision came hard, but by morning he had made his choice. - -He rose early but had to wait until well into the afternoon before the -Imperator put in an appearance. - -Magogar greeted Ostby with a smile, but there was no friendliness in -it. He was a man who made no friends. The people about him were divided -into two classes: those who served or obeyed him, and those who opposed -him. The latter did not survive long. - -"Step out onto the sun balcony with me," the Imperator said, with the -easy assurance of a man accustomed to obedience. He strolled to the -railing of the balcony and leaned against it, looking out over the -water of the city's harbor. The balcony extended out over the water, -which came directly up to a small walk bordering the palace. - -"I have given your case very deep thought," the Imperator said, "and I -will be perfectly frank with you. Whether I accept you or dispose of -you will be directly determined by what I decide within the immediate -future. There is no point in my asking your views because your range of -choices is very small, and entirely incidental to my decision. You can -willingly accept whatever I decide for you--if I let you live--or you -can oppose me. The latter, of course, would be tantamount to asking for -death. Do you have anything to say before we continue?" - -"Not knowing what you have to offer leaves me with no possibility of -making a choice," Ostby said carefully. - -It was immediately evident, however, that he had made a wrong choice -of words. The Imperator's arrogant brows rose and he frowned. "I never -_offer_ anything," he said, spacing each word with a hard emphasis, -"except the choice of accepting my decisions." - -When Ostby made no reply, Magogar seated himself and remained in deep -introspection. - -"Let me tell you a story," he said finally. "At first it may sound -like idle boasting, but I can readily demonstrate to you that I am the -living proof of its authenticity." - -The Imperator paused while he tilted back his chair and stared at -the ceiling. "In the early years of man's existence," he said, "he -possessed two physical survival characteristics. First, he could -run. As he was one of the weakest of the animals he found that most -expeditious. And because the instinct to run grew to occupy a prominent -place in his emotional makeup, it enabled him to survive. - -"The other survival factor was to fight. The fighters died an earlier -death than did those that ran, and they had fewer progeny. But those -fighters that lived ruled the tribes. - -"During each generation these separate instincts developed and became -more virile. The numbers of the fleers propagated and soon the mass of -the human race consisted of their descendants. The fighters, however, -ruled the tribes, as was logical. They were the doers, and became the -leaders. - -"I, Mr. Ostby, am a direct descendant of this long line of -fighters--perhaps its culmination. I have never known fear, and I never -flee! I have inherited the strength of those ancestors, and I rule -now because I am the strongest man in the world, both mentally and -physically. The world belongs to the strong, and I am the strongest. -Let that weigh heavily in every thought you have concerning me." - -Ostby found himself wondering in amazement at the colossal pride that -could give birth to such thought processes. - -"Now," the Imperator went on, "let me give you one last warning before -you leave. You may be in line for my position, and you must prove to -me that you are strong enough to take my place, if that ever becomes -necessary. On the other hand if your strength evidences itself by the -slightest opposition to me, I will kill you. Thus you have a fine line -to walk, with your life hanging in the balance. - -"This concludes our interview until later this afternoon," the -Imperator said. "I would suggest, in the meantime, that you consult the -Brain. He can supply you with an understanding of our background which -you may find useful." - - * * * * * - -Ostby was glad the Imperator had suggested his speaking with the Brain. -He had made his decision now, but there was much the Brain could tell -him that he needed to know. - -He walked down one flight and into the room housing the Brain. When -he arrived he found it awake and obviously watching him. Once again -he experienced a vast discomfort in meeting that giant eye, with its -mottled apperception. He wondered uneasily if it had the power to read -his mind. - -Ostby's unease was not lessened by the Brain's first words. "You have -finished your interview with the Imperator," it said. "Evidently you -were wise enough not to antagonize him or you would not be here now. Is -there anything special you would like to ask me?" - -There was much he wanted to learn from the Brain and Ostby had no -hesitation in replying. - -"What are you?" he asked without preliminaries. "How old are you, and -just what is the extent of your powers?" - -For a moment Ostby was afraid that he had, in some way, made a wrong -approach, and that the Brain would refuse to answer him, for it was -silent. But finally it said, quietly, "Perhaps one question at a time -would be better for both of us. I can answer directly then, and you -will be able to assimilate the answers more easily. Some of them will -have many ramifications and require supplementary explanations. - -"I am over five hundred years old. I was originally a man, the same as -yourself, and one of the few real scientists our race has produced. -I limited my activity to no one field, but delved into anything that -interested me. One of my interests was longevity. When I decided that -immortality was limited by the weaknesses of the bodily vehicle to -which I was tied, I designed this instrument in which my brain resides, -and trained others to make the essential transfer. Does that answer -your questions?" - -"All except the extent of your intellectual ability. The rumor is that -you know everything." - -"That, of course, is ridiculous. Knowledge is like a fan-shaped wave; -beginning with the first fact learned, and spreading wider and wider -the more one learns. I started with an exceptional intellect, and for -five hundred years have acquired as much knowledge as that intellect, -and a vast curiosity, could give me." - -"I see," Ostby said as he framed the next question in his mind. "What -is your relationship with the Imperator?" he asked. "Are you an ally or -a servant?" - -"That is a bit difficult to answer," the Brain said, "because it -depends on the viewpoint of the observer. As far as Magogar is -concerned, I suppose I am both, though surely more of a servant than -an equal. As I regard it, he is merely another man, though one who -supplies me with most of the material for speculation which I desire." - -"Are you loyal to him?" - -"As you mean it, no. Loyalty implies an emotional basis. I'm afraid -that I have none of the standard emotions. I will answer any question -put to me by anyone. I care nothing about the purpose of the question -or to what use the answer is put." - -"Could I ask a question, in confidence, and be certain that you would -not reveal that I did so to the Imperator?" Ostby asked. This could be -placing his neck in the noose, he knew, and he waited anxiously for the -answer. - -"No," the Brain replied. "I would volunteer nothing to him, but I would -tell him anything he asked." - -Ostby decided that he needed time to think over this facet of the Brain -before he ventured further. First, he would attempt to learn other -facts which he might need later. Perhaps he could even obtain the -answer he wanted in a roundabout way. "What is the population of your -world?" he asked. - -"Approximately seven million. Over a million live here, in Yarr, our -one mechanized city." - -"Why is it that you have so little technology, as compared with the -Earth?" - -"I suppose that its basis is our low birth rate," the Brain answered. -"There is ample living space here, as well as natural resources, to -supply our people's needs. Thus there is little necessity for them to -shape and remake their environment. It is always easiest to accept -nature as it is, if that can be done with a minimum of self-adjusting." - -"Then why is this city of Yarr different?" - -"Yarr is the creation of one man, a man hungry for power, for the -authority, and the strength to dominate everything about him; to hold -the lives of men and women in the hollow of his hand. That man, you -will recognize, is Magogar. In his creed strength is right; in fact, it -is everything. It is the philosophy that controls him, and through him, -the city. Under his rule the unfit are killed, or at best, allowed to -perish on the ragged confines of our artificial civilization." - -"What is your opinion of that philosophy?" - -"Magogar is wrong, beyond a doubt," the Brain answered unhesitatingly. -"Any species survives and develops through cooperation, and -self-restraint of its individual members. Ruthless self-assertion is a -stumbling block to human progress. Magogar is right when he says that -the world belongs to the strong. It must, by the very constitution of -man. But a ruler who is merely strong will inevitably be overthrown. -Eventually the world will be governed by the strong, but by the strong -who are noble as well." - -"Magogar's philosophy seems to me to be the outgrowth of an overweening -pride," Ostby said. - -"Perhaps. Up to a point self-admiration is not to be deplored. But in -excess it is an evil thing." - - * * * * * - -Now, Ostby decided, was the time to ask his vital question. "Don't -you think that you and your people would be better off if the 'door' -between the worlds were closed?" He held his breath while he waited for -the answer. - -"You are making a mistake if you associate me, in your mind, with my -world's people," the Brain said. "Not having a body to inspire emotion, -wants and desires, I am tied to them by nothing. Whether they are -better or worse off concerns me not at all. Whether they are happy, -or even all die, concerns me equally as little. But you are right. -The 'door' is a bad thing for them. This city is a parasite. All its -technology, its customs, its sins, its vices, are copied from your -Earth. Without the 'door' this city, this artificial oddity, would -vanish. Its inhabitants would disperse and resume their pastoral life, -where, I assure you, they would be much happier. - -"And the solution to this is, as you say, the closing of the 'door.' -Because every machine we have, that we did not steal, is manufactured -by captives from Earth." - -He was in too deep to back out now, Ostby decided. He plunged -recklessly into the next question. "Can you tell me something about the -operation of the 'door'?" - -"This is not the first time the 'door' has appeared between our -worlds," the Brain said, "though I know very little about its original -appearance. Practically all I know about that is the result of abstract -speculation. It appeared at least once before, thousands of years ago. -My own theory is that at that time there was a mass migration from our -world to yours, and that the present Earth people are descendants of -our own ancestors." - -The Brain paused for a long minute before continuing. "I have studied -many of the writings of the Earth, and am quite certain that I know -more about its history than its average citizen. Do you recall the -evidence found concerning the Cro-Magnon man of Earth's prehistoric -ages? It seems that the so-called Neanderthal man was the animal that -most nearly approached the present homo sapiens, until suddenly--as -such things are reckoned--he was supplanted by another, much more -advanced species of man, the Cro-Magnon. My research leads me to -believe that those Cro-Magnon men migrated from our world to yours!" - -A dozen questions sprang to Ostby's mind concerning this fascinating -theory, but he put them aside impatiently. He was a man with a bulldog -tenacity of purpose, and he had no intention of wasting time on -questions prompted by idle curiosity. - -"That's a very interesting theory," he said, "and I would like to -discuss it more fully some other time. But for now, are you telling me -that the 'door' is a natural phenomenon?" - -"Not the present 'door,'" the Brain replied. "It was created, -approximately twenty years ago, by the concentration and intellectual -power of one mind--my own!" - -"But how did you do it?" - -"I don't know how much knowledge you have of physics," the Brain said -slowly. "The explanation is a bit technical for the untrained man to -understand. However, I'll explain it as simply as I can. - -"Matter, as you probably know, is made up of tiny electrified bodies -called electrons. When measurements were made it was found that -the whole mass of the electron is due to its electrical charge. -The inevitable conclusion is that the material universe is not the -substantial, objective thing it was formerly thought to be. Matter -is a completely spectral thing with no actual substance. The idea of -substance must be replaced by that of behavior. - -"Thus, opening the 'door' became a problem of controlling that behavior -in such a way as to create a refraction of the matter separating -worlds. That is not as simple as it may sound because a mind, to be -able to do it, must possess a thorough understanding of the forces it -deals with. It must have a tremendous capacity for concentration, and -its logic must be entirely uninfluenced by emotion. I believe it is -safe to say that no other mind, before mine, has ever combined these -qualities in sufficient degree to accomplish the deed." - -Strangely Ostby was not too surprised by this revelation. The makers of -the capsule residing in the flesh of his left forearm had concluded, as -a result of their studies, that the "door" might be the product of mind -power. Their greatest mistake had been that it would take the combined -power of at least eight brilliant minds to achieve the necessary matter -refraction. - -Here, then, lay the end of his search, Ostby knew. He regretted that -its conclusion must entail the death of the Brain. - -Somewhat as a form of apology he said, "It probably won't surprise you -too much to know that I have decided to continue my fight on the side -of the people of Earth. I am not going to let the accident of ancestry -blind me to the justice of their cause. Also, regardless of my personal -feelings, I must do whatever is necessary to attain my end. Do you see -what I am trying to say?" - -"I do," the Brain answered. "Your next question is, will I consent to -close the 'door' voluntarily. My answer will be no, and then you will -say that you must kill me. Am I right?" - -Ostby nodded. "Tell me," he said, "are you not afraid to die?" - -"The instinct of self-preservation is as strong in me as it ever was." - -"Then I can only offer you my deepest regrets for what I must do." -Ostby rose and gripped the back of his chair--he should be able to -smash the brain-box with that, he decided--and found himself unable to -lift it! - -"And I must offer my regrets at the necessity of defending myself," the -Brain said ironically. "I will allow no one to harm me. I am going to -release you from my mental grip now, and I want you to leave this room. -Never come in my presence again with the intent to harm me or I will be -forced to kill you." The voice was entirely emotionless throughout. - -Ostby's strength returned in a warm wave that washed his body free of -the stasis that bound him, and vigor flowed back into his muscles. But -he knew he was helpless before the unnormal powers of the mind before -him, and he turned and left the room. - - - VI - -By the time Ostby reached the outer balcony a black frustration clogged -his veins. To be so close and still be unable to act. He was willing -to give his life to close the "door," but every way he turned he found -himself battering against walls of futility. The anger within him -now, so close to despair, was more than he could control. His reason -feared that anger and he fought against it, but it went with him like a -tangible thing and he knew that he could no longer restrain it. - -The sight of the Imperator lounging in an easy chair on the balcony, -his face, arrogant and powerful, set in its habitual expression of -disdainful hauteur, did nothing to ease Ostby's emotional storm. - -"I've been reading the police reports concerning you and giving them -some thought," the Imperator's voice laid its heavy weight on him. "My -conclusions are not very flattering. I find you lack many admirable -qualities. I'm about convinced that your dominant characteristics are -cunning and guile rather than strength. If there is one thing I hate -it's a dissembling man." - -"You could be wrong," Ostby said, so softly that only a man as -confident and self-assured as the Imperator would have missed the -pent-up force behind the softness. - -The Imperator waved his hand negligently. "I'll admit that you -displayed ingenuity in hiding from the police," he said, "and you have -a certain amount of animal-like adaptation to danger. But when you -fought it was only with the desperation of a cornered rat! Your most -noteworthy trait is subterfuge. I despise a gutless man!" - -"Does it take guts to boast of your strength while hiding behind a -palace guard?" Ostby asked. - -For the time it took an incredulous expression to cross his face -Magogar sat still, not believing what he had heard. No one spoke to him -like that! He straightened and turned to face Ostby full on. "Will you -repeat that?" he asked, the words half strangling in his throat. - -"You heard me correctly," Ostby said, seating himself deliberately and -insolently in a chair that faced the Imperator across a heavy wooden -table. He had thrown the gauntlet. Now to strike hard at the twisted -core of pride that bent the Imperator to fit its ruthlessness. "You -boasted that you were the strongest man in the world, physically and -mentally. You're wrong on both considerations. Mentally you are weak, -with a sick and rotten pride that warps your mind. I believe you're -even a bit insane." - -The Imperator rose to his feet. Muscles bunched in hard straight lines -along the ridges of his jaw, and the flanges of his nose were white -with suppressed rage. - -Ostby went inexorably on. "Physically you've passed your prime. Soft -living has coated your muscles with fat, and fat girds your middle. -You...." - -"You've said enough," the Imperator interrupted. He reached toward a -bell resting on the table between them. - -"Wait!" Ostby stopped him with the word. "What is the strong man going -to do? Ring for his men to help him? Are you a coward as well as a -braggart?" Ostby could see his words strike like blows. - -The Imperator, his eyes wide open, wicked and quiet, sat down -purposefully. Oddly he seemed to have recovered his self-control. "Pull -your chair up to the table," he said. "We will see where the strength -lies." - -This was the moment! Now, Ostby reflected, if only he hadn't -overestimated himself. With the thought came a tinge of doubt. Perhaps -he would find that he was governed by the same false pride of which he -had accused Magogar. - -He followed the Imperator's example and laid his left arm flat on the -table. Their left hands made contact. They rested their right elbows, -their arms forming an elevated triangle, with the table's surface as -the third side. - -They gripped right hands, each large and powerful. Ostby hoped that -he had the sheer animal strength to cope with the Imperator's extra -hundred pounds of weight. - -The Imperator threw his full strength into a forward press, and they -were locked in fierce, inarticulate conflict. Ostby felt the muscles -in his forearm, his biceps, and into his shoulder protest against the -violent strain. It took all his strength to meet the power that beat -against him, wave upon wave, and he realized immediately that the -best he could hope to do was hold his own. He set his muscles, with -all his might behind them, and watched almost disinterestedly as the -cords of his forearms swelled and pushed out the skin until they stood -like taut wires. A dull ache came into the shoulder socket, and he -felt perspiration gather in a cold drop in the pit of his arm and roll -clammily down his ribs. He knew now that, whatever he might have said, -the Imperator was not soft. - -For a long minute, while the realities about them seemed to pause, they -held their position, both straining every muscle. The Imperator's face -turned slowly red. The red flowed down his cheeks and into the corded -tendons of his neck. Ostby could feel a pulse pounding in his own -temple. - -Suddenly, though he felt no relaxation in the Imperator's arm, Ostby -knew he had won. Something in the grip of the hands told him that from -here in he was in command. The first concrete sign of it, however, -showed in the Imperator's face. Ostby saw the first doubt creep into -the cruel down-slanting corners of his mouth, and deep within the -features of his face there was a sign of remote breakage. With the loss -of certainty came a kind of shame into the man's face, and before -Ostby's eyes he changed. Changed as the things he had lived for, all -his life, were destroyed. - -There was an excitement in Ostby now, and the excitement pleased him. -He bent the Imperator's arm slowly back, until it was a few inches -above the table top. He shot the adrenalin of his excitement into his -arm and rapped the knuckles of the Imperator's hand sharply against the -table. - -For a moment they sat in a silence that carried more inflection than -any noise. The Imperator's head was dropped as he went through his -lonely thoughts. When he rose all reason had left him, and his face -was twisted into a snarl of bottomless hate. Ostby knew he was facing -a madman. A brutish roar rose from the Imperator's massive chest and -rolled along the walls of the room. He reached for Ostby, and the table -between them collapsed before his advance. - -In the hall behind him Ostby heard the sound of running feet, and he -knew he had to act, fast and forcefully. He set himself flat on his -feet and brought his right arm around with fierce strength. His fist -landed squarely against the Imperator's jaw. - -The Imperator stood motionless and his eyes rolled slowly back. He -swayed--with his body still unbending--and fell across the upturned -table. He lay very still. - -Ostby ran quickly to the balcony ledge and dived over. - - * * * * * - -Ostby swam underwater until his burning lungs forced him to the -surface. He observed with relief that he had placed a bend in the -harbor shore between him and the view from the balcony. He pulled -himself from the water and walked rapidly away. The first shadows of -evening had begun to fall and he hoped his wet clothing would not -arouse too much attention. His broken right hand throbbed with dull -anguish. - -A half-hour later Ostby entered the Flats and made his way toward -Siggen's house. He was only a few blocks from his destination when a -tightening between his shoulder blades warned him of danger. Swiftly he -turned. His throat quickened as he saw two men, a half-block behind, -hurrying to overtake him. He began to run. He'd be safe if he could -reach Siggen's. - -Then with dismay he noted two men ahead of him blocking the walk. He -looked desperately to either side for a way out. - -He spied a passageway between two houses and cut sharply in between -them. Behind him he heard a shout and men running. In front loomed a -high fence. A blind alley! - -Without pausing, he leaped high and caught the top of the fence, his -shattered hand protesting every movement. Swinging his body like a -pendulum he pulled his feet up. "I've got to make it!" he breathed. - -He didn't! - -His feet missed the top of the fence and fell back. He hung for a -second, helpless. - -He felt the sting of steel in his neck. He hung in shocked stupor as -his life poured out in a flood of blood that ran down his shoulder. - -Ostby crumbled to the ground. Painfully he clasped his fingers over the -gaping wound but the blood continued to ooze out between his fingers. -All strength and power of movement left him. - -Oddly enough his mind remained clear. There was no fear in him now, and -no pain. The thing that had happened to him seemed the misfortune of -some other person and he viewed it almost dispassionately. There was -only regret that he would never be able to finish his job. And he had -been so close. - -Soon he became aware that someone stood beside him. He looked up with -eyes that still registered clearly everything they saw. The cynical -figure, wiping a short knife on a handful of grass, Ostby knew, was the -man who had assaulted him. There was no emotion in the man. No hate and -no rancor. - -Abruptly another figure stood beside the assassin. With a shock Ostby -recognized Rinda. For a second hope flickered as he noted the anguish -on her face and the tears in her eyes. But the face hardened resolutely. - -"I want you to know I had it done," the Duchess said. She drew back her -foot and kicked him. Then she was gone. - -So it had been she, Ostby reflected. Ironic justice. The one diversion -he had allowed himself had been his undoing. - -The assassin still stood at his side, Ostby noted. Was the ghoul -waiting to enjoy the finish, he wondered. Then his mind, which even -in this extremity refused to accept its fate, conceived the shred of a -plan. He strove to speak. At the third attempt he succeeded. - -"How much.... How much did ... she pay you?" he asked. - -"One thousand heds." - -"If you get me ... take me...." Ostby's reasoning was beginning to -leave him. Vision and speech blurred. A fiery ball of pain strained at -the base of his head, as though striving to break out. - -The immediacy of his need helped him focus his vision once more on the -face above him. He gasped, "Take me to Siggen. He will pay you two -thousand if you get me there alive." - -Ostby felt himself being lifted carefully off the ground. - -The ball of fire in his head burst and he fell through darkness. He -fell until he struck the bottom of a black pit, went through and fell -some more. Consciousness left him. - - * * * * * - -For six days Death sat on the wooden prop at the foot of Ostby's bed -and grinned at the thing that clung so tenaciously to life. The spark -within its destitute body flickered feebly those days and the nearest -Ostby came to lucidity was when he sat up in bed and cursed the -grinning spectre. - -Each time fat but gentle hands eased him back and murmured to him until -he returned to sleep. - -By the sixth day Death's grin became strained. Why would the creature -not die? All the vitality had been drained from the husk, yet the thing -within--the thing called Will--would not surrender its life. Each -minute it forced the body to breathe once more. And the next minute -it breathed again. The minutes stretched into days, and the days to a -week; and the seventh day, when Ostby opened his eyes, Death was gone. -He had won the hardest battle of his life. - -Death's frost still lay along his nerves during the next two weeks. -Ostby realized how far he had been along the road to dying by the -reluctance with which his strength returned. This was the first time -in his life he could remember having been weak, so weak that the last -frayed ends of his vitality lay naked. And with this weakness came a -kind of humbleness. He lay quietly in the placid embrace of the apathy -which the humbleness brought. - -"I wish I knew some way to thank you," he said to Siggen. - -"Don't try," Siggen urged. "If I'd ever had a son," he added, "I would -have liked him to be like you." - -An hour later Siggen said, "I'll do what you ask, but only on one -condition: that you wait until you are stronger before you move." - -Ostby considered. "I'll give myself two more days," he said. "By that -time you should have everything ready." - -Reluctantly Siggen agreed. - -The sun had not yet risen, but its light was creeping into the sky -as Siggen and Ostby stood huddled in a cold doorway across from the -palace. All around them Ostby's discerning eye caught signs of life. -But the signs did not disturb him. They were Siggen's men, and they -were here at his request. - -Suddenly a small splash of sound came from within the palace. A few -minutes later two men, dressed in the uniform of the Imperator's guard, -emerged. They were followed by four more. And during the next half-hour -almost a hundred came from the palace. Some of them carried their -belongings in their arms, and all of them were in a hurry. - -"Something unusual is happening in there," Siggen said. - -"Whatever it is, it suits our plans," Ostby said. "There can't be many -guards left inside. Your men should have little trouble overpowering -the remainder." - -"I don't like it," Siggen said. "But every fear grows worse by not -being looked at. Shall we go in?" - -"Soon," Ostby answered. "Take me to the water-duct first." - -"It's just around the corner," Siggen replied. "Come on." - -They turned the corner of the building and Siggen paced off eight -steps. "It should be right here," he said. He kicked in the dust until -his foot struck a loose brick. "Right," he grunted. - -Siggen bent and lifted the brick from its loose-fitting hole. "I -supervised the job myself to see that it was done right," he said. - -Ostby could hear a faint gurgle of water coming from the hole. - -He rolled back the sleeve of his left arm and probed with his fingers -until he found the spot he sought. "Cut here," he said. - -Siggen shook his head disapprovingly but did as he was told. Blood -crept out around the knife blade as it did its work. Ostby said nothing. - -When Siggen had extracted the capsule, he handed it to Ostby. - -Ostby knelt on one knee and broke the capsule, holding it carefully -over the hole in the street. He counted the drops that fell. - -"Six," he said. "And one more." He shook the broken halves, and dropped -them into the water flowing beneath the hole. "That should do it," he -commented, with satisfaction. "One drop will effectively impregnate two -hundred fifty thousand gallons of water." - -"I wish I knew what you were trying to do," Siggen said, "but I suppose -that you'll tell me in your own good time. Do I send my men in yet?" - -"Yes, we'd better start. They know that they're to take over the entire -first floor and to hold it against all comers?" - -Siggen nodded and lifted his hand in a prearranged signal. The shadows -about the buildings gave up their skulkers, and figures slipped out -from every doorway and hiding place and entered the palace. - - * * * * * - -Ten minutes passed and not a sound came from within. - -"It's too quiet," Siggen said. "I don't like it." - -"We'll go in now," Ostby said. - -Once in the palace Siggen called over one of his men. "Anything doing?" -he asked. - -"Nothing," the man replied. "The whole place seems deserted." - -"What do we do now?" Siggen asked, turning to Ostby. - -"We'll go upstairs. Magogar should be there." - -"Will I bring along some of the men?" - -"No," Ostby said. "I have a feeling that we won't need them." - -Siggen and Ostby went slowly up the stairway. When they reached the -room that housed the Brain, Ostby entered first. - -"You timed it very well," a hollow voice greeted him, but it failed -to catch Ostby's entire attention for he was looking down at a figure -lying on the floor. - -The figure was that of the Imperator, with a knife buried in his breast! - -"Yes, he's dead," the hollow voice said, "and you killed him." - -"I?" Ostby brought his attention up to the huge eye that gazed at him -unwinking. - -"You," the Brain answered. "Technically it's suicide. But when you -defeated him in a test of strength, you killed him as surely as though -you plunged the knife into his heart!" - -"Then my work may be finished," Ostby said. He looked at the Brain with -a question in his gaze. - -"Yes," the Brain answered his unspoken question. "It is done. You were -wise in deducing that I must use water to function, and thus would be -exposed to the potion you placed in the palace water-duct. I'll never -be able to open the 'door' again." - -"I'm happy to hear that," Ostby said, letting his shoulders ease down. -Only with the release did he realize the weight of the burden he -had been carrying all these past months. "I hope it didn't harm you -otherwise," he said. - -"Not at all," the Brain answered. "You merely changed the pitch of a -subtle brain resonance necessary for the opening of the 'door.' It is -analogous to a growing boy's loss of the ability to sing tenor. His -vocal cords are in no way injured when they grow too coarse to attain a -certain pitch. But...." - -The Brain paused. "What now?" - -"How do you mean?" Ostby asked. - -"You know that you will never be able to return to Earth after this. -And, as you are the nominal successor to Magogar, I presume you will -take over the city's government?" - -"You're wrong," Ostby replied unhesitatingly. "I have no slightest -desire to be Imperator." - -"If you don't there will be chaos in the city." - -"You told me once that the people would be happier if they returned to -their pastoral way of life. So now let them." - -"That's correct," the Brain replied. "But if you leave the city without -a government it will collapse in a bath of blood. It would be much -better if you allowed the disintegration to occur gradually under your -control. Furthermore, here is a thought which may not have entered -your mind. There are thousands of Earth people in the city. If given -the opportunity they could be quite happy here. They would be the -technicians and tradesmen. In time they, and their descendants would -be assimilated into the population, perhaps giving it many of their -better traits. Would you give that up and expose them to death under -the anarchy you would leave?" - -"No," Ostby said. "But I have a different plan. One in which you play -an integral part. Would you be willing to give Siggen the cooperation -he'd need if he took over as Imperator?" - -For the first time Ostby saw Siggen show surprise. His eyes widened at -the first realization of what Ostby had proposed, but he said nothing -and his features settled back into their usual placid tranquillity. -Only in his eyes did Ostby see how greatly he was pleased. - -"You think, perhaps, that you surprise me," the Brain answered. "But I, -too, have given Siggen thought since Magogar took his life. Siggen is -the head of the element most likely to get out of hand, and he would -be best able to control them. The so-called aristocracy may not like -the choice but they have very little actual strength. As for the guards -and police, with my, and your, sanction, I am certain that they will -be happy to return to their former posts. And finally, Siggen is an -able administrator. You may not like this, but he will make a better -Imperator than yourself." - -"Then it's settled," Ostby said. He turned to Siggen and held out his -hand. "My friend, Siggen--Imperator--I leave the city in your capable -hands. For the present, I bid you goodby." He turned and walked from -the room. - -For the first time Siggen spoke. "He is at heart very romantic," he -said to the Brain. "He goes now to renew an affair of courtship with a -certain Duchess, Rinda!" - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BERSERKER *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/64561-0.zip b/old/64561-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 407d7c7..0000000 --- a/old/64561-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/64561-h.zip b/old/64561-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d266df9..0000000 --- a/old/64561-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/64561-h/64561-h.htm b/old/64561-h/64561-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index dc1dd3d..0000000 --- a/old/64561-h/64561-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2451 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=us-ascii" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Berserker, by Charles V. De Vet. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - - <style type="text/css"> - -body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; -} - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; -} - -p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; -} - -hr { - width: 33%; - margin-top: 2em; - margin-bottom: 2em; - margin-left: 33.5%; - margin-right: 33.5%; - clear: both; -} - -hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} -hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} - -.center {text-align: center;} - -.right {text-align: right;} - -/* Images */ -.figcenter { - margin: auto; - text-align: center; -} - -div.titlepage { - text-align: center; - page-break-before: always; - page-break-after: always; -} - -div.titlepage p { - text-align: center; - text-indent: 0em; - font-weight: bold; - line-height: 1.5; - margin-top: 3em; -} - -.ph1 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; } -.ph1 { font-size: medium; margin: .83em auto; } - - - </style> - </head> -<body> - -<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Berserker, by Charles V. De Vet</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The Berserker</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Charles V. De Vet</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 14, 2021 [eBook #64561]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BERSERKER ***</div> - -<div class="titlepage"> - -<h1>THE BERSERKER</h1> - -<h2>By CHARLES V. DE VET</h2> - -<p><i>'Twas said of The Berserker ... "when<br /> -an opening comes he'll play for it, and<br /> -he'll do it with a single-minded violence.</i>"</p> - -<p>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br /> -Planet Stories March 1953.<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>All of Big Jim Ostby's attention seemed on the cigar as he lit it, but -it was not. He observed the faces of the men who passed him by, and -the figures of those across the street, and up and down the sidewalk. -Satisfied, he moved on.</p> - -<p>Ostby's six feet four, and two hundred thirty-five pounds, were not -conspicuous on this other-dimensional world, where his size was but -little above average. And only the sharpest observer would have noted -the leashed aliveness of the instrument of sinew and muscle which was -his body.</p> - -<p>Deliberately Ostby avoided the shadows. That way lay danger. Reason, -abetted by an instinctive capacity for adaptation, told him blending in -with his background offered the best concealment.</p> - -<p>By now the whole district would know that the police were after him. -He wondered what the latest reports were. Casually he slowed his pace -until two men behind him drew near enough to be overheard.</p> - -<p>"They say the police have the Berserker cornered in our half of the -Flats," one of the men said.</p> - -<p>"If they trap 'im there's gonna be some dead police before the night's -over," the second answered. "He ain't called the Berserker for nothing."</p> - -<p>"I'd hate to be in his shoes. They've got a net around the district -that a fly couldn't get through."</p> - -<p>"I'd hate to be one of the police that corners him."</p> - -<p>"He'll never get away this time."</p> - -<p>"I wouldn't bet against him if I was you. The gamblers in the street -are giving odds of two to one that he makes it."</p> - -<p>"How do you figure he's got a chance?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know. We're not cut out of the right stuff for that kind of -thing. He is. When an opening comes he'll play for it, and he'll do it -with a single-minded violence."</p> - -<p>Suddenly Ostby's attention was drawn to a group of men collected at -the corner ahead. Two thin lines of police were blocking the way and -examining identity cards. He drew in a long, deep breath. Life for him -on this world was one of a series of crises, unforeseen, but stationed -along his way as regularly as mileposts.</p> - -<p>Swiftly, but with studied unconcern, he looked about him. To turn back -here would arouse attention. His cigar had gone out now, and he flicked -it into the gutter.</p> - -<p>To his right was an amusement place. He turned and entered.</p> - -<p>The place was filled with the usual crowd of drinkers and merrymakers. -Ostby found a seat at the bar and ordered a drink.</p> - -<p>A minute later he left his stool and went to the rest room. He had to -plan a way out in case of necessity. There was no back entrance to the -rest room, he saw, and the only window was high above his head. Too -small for a man's body to squeeze through. He'd be trapped if he let -them corner him here.</p> - -<p>Back at the bar he found his drink still waiting.</p> - -<p>"I held your place for you," a woman's soft voice said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Ostby glanced into the full length mirror above the bar. The girl -next to him was young and pretty. He shifted his glance to his own -reflection. The mustache and the little patch of beard between his -chin and lower lip had grown well. His whiskers always came in heavy -and black, and they were the style now. They altered his appearance -considerably.</p> - -<p>Evidently it had not lessened his attraction for the opposite sex. -That attractiveness had been with him so long that he had ceased being -surprised by it. But it still puzzled him. There was strength in the -features of the reflection that looked back at him, he admitted, but -no beauty. Rather the outline was almost harsh, as though etched by a -rough masculine hand. He wondered, without caring, why women were drawn -to it.</p> - -<p>All this retrospection occurred in the split second after he glanced -into the mirror. "I am in your debt," he said, turning to his -companion. His manner and expression was disinterested, even a bit -disdainful. Yet his voice was gentle and courteous.</p> - -<p>Perhaps that contrast was the thing that held women's attention. The -manner seemed to imply a knowledge of their wiles, and an ability to -read through their vanities. Yet his voice told them that he recognized -their womanly need to be appreciated, and coddled, and that he would be -invariably gentle with them.</p> - -<p>"May I buy you a drink?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"My glass is still full," the girl answered, and smiled at him. She did -not look so young now that he saw her face to face. The features were -young, but the eyes were old, and too wise for one of her chronological -age. With his flameless lighter Ostby lit the white oval which the girl -drew from its package and placed between her full red lips.</p> - -<p>All the while Ostby's eyes made their swift survey of the room and -stamped its every feature in his eidetic memory. Only one exit, -other than the front door, he saw. The windows were all about seven -feet above the floor, and banded with burglar-bars. A man would have -difficulty gaining entrance or exit.</p> - -<p>At the opposite end of the room he observed a small dance floor and a -mechanical music box. His attention was held for a moment by a party -seated in a booth at the edge of the dance floor. The men and women in -the booth were too well dressed, too well bred, to be down here in the -Flats.</p> - -<p>The apex of the party was a woman whose beauty attracted Ostby clear -across the room.</p> - -<p>"Who are the people in the back booth?" he asked his companion.</p> - -<p>"The Duchess of North Hudson," the girl answered, wrinkling her nose in -affected hauteur. "She's slumming. Seeing how the other half lives."</p> - -<p>"Does she come often?"</p> - -<p>"Only when she gets tired of being a lady. Right now she's celebrating -her separation from her second husband."</p> - -<p>Abruptly Ostby sensed something was wrong.</p> - -<p>He glanced into the mirror. At the door stood a half dozen of the -police. His gaze shifted to the rear entrance. He saw another party of -police there.</p> - -<p>"If you'll excuse me," he said to the girl, as he stepped down from his -stool, "I believe I'll have a word with the Duchess."</p> - -<p>The girl's mouth made a round O as he left her.</p> - -<p>Ostby paused directly in front of the Duchess. Her attention swept up -to him.</p> - -<p>"My name is Captain Faas, formerly of the Imperator's private guards," -he said, bowing deeply enough to show courtesy, but not so deeply as to -seem subservient. "May I be so bold as to hope that the Duchess has not -forgotten me?"</p> - -<p>There was no recognition in the Duchess's look but there was interest.</p> - -<p>"Should I remember you?" she asked.</p> - -<p>"It was my privilege to meet her grace at the winter games a few years -ago," Ostby answered. The look he gave her was appreciative of what he -saw.</p> - -<p>The Duchess returned the look without recognition, but with amused -acknowledgment of a clever approach. "Of course," she said. "How could -I have forgotten? Won't you join us?"</p> - -<p>"You are very kind," Ostby said. From the corner of his eye he saw that -the soldiers were drawing nearer. They were demanding identity cards -from all the men. "If I may presume on that kindness," he said to the -Duchess, "would you do me the honor of dancing with me?"</p> - -<p>The Duchess hesitated for a barely perceptible instant. "I would be -happy to," she said.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The Duchess danced well. Ostby followed the waltz piece with a fine -sense of the music's rhythm that women love.</p> - -<p>The Duchess' dress was worn off her rounded shoulders and each breath -stirred the fullness of her breasts against the dress.</p> - -<p>At the side of the dance floor he saw that a lieutenant of the police -was waiting politely for them to finish their dance. The big test would -come soon.</p> - -<p>"You say we met at the winter games," the Duchess mused. She looked up -at Ostby. "We danced at the ball after the games, did we not?"</p> - -<p>"That's right," Ostby answered, while one part of his mind considered -the problem of the lieutenant waiting for them. "That is why I asked -you to dance. I'd hoped it would recall our acquaintance."</p> - -<p>"Acquaintance is such a formal word," the Duchess said teasingly, and -Ostby knew, without pride, that she was reacting to that intangible -something about him that pleased women. He looked down into her eyes -and noted just a suggestion of permanent crinkles at the corners. He -judged her age as about thirty-three, seven years older than himself.</p> - -<p>"I assure you that I feel anything but formal when I hold you in my -arms," he answered, following her lead. He made her feel desirable by -the things he expressed in his glance.</p> - -<p>In the meantime the other portion of Ostby's mind had made its decision -concerning the lieutenant.</p> - -<p>"I see the police are making another of their nuisance spot-checks," -he said. "I'm afraid I'm due to go through a bit of red tape. I've -misplaced my identity card."</p> - -<p>"I hear they're tracking down some notorious criminal," the Duchess -answered. Abruptly her glance, full of sudden speculation, swept up and -studied his face. After a short pause she said something that at first -thought sounded irrelevant. "I've never danced at the winter games," -she said.</p> - -<p>Ostby drew in a quick breath. She knew!</p> - -<p>The lieutenant was beside them now.</p> - -<p>"You won't need to see his identity card, officer. He's with me," Ostby -heard the Duchess say, and he let his breath out in a long silent sigh.</p> - -<p>The lieutenant was not satisfied, but he was clearly afraid to press -matters. He bowed to the Duchess as they walked past him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Ostby lay on his back, with his knees drawn up and his hands beneath -his head. His eyes shifted idly about the room, taking in its every -feature automatically. It was this automatic attention to details -that had always helped him land on his feet in the past whenever he -had been in trouble. And he might be in trouble now. Too much of his -trust rested with the Duchess—Rinda, she had asked him to call her. -His entire safety rested in her fair hands—and he did not like it. He -liked to trust no one except himself.</p> - -<p>Ostby had accepted the invitation to visit her because he needed a -place to hide; and because she knew too much for him to do anything -except agree. But he would have chosen otherwise had he had a choice.</p> - -<p>However, his reason told him that she had not taken him from the grip -of the police to turn him in now.</p> - -<p>And so he lay quietly, with the relaxed alertness of a resting cat. His -thoughts were back on Earth.</p> - -<p>When he had taken this assignment to come through the "door" between -the worlds, he had known that there would be hardships, and that his -life would be continually in danger, but it was moments like these that -he hated the most—moments when he was not able to dictate the next -step.</p> - -<p>Approximately twenty years earlier—in 1950—the aliens had somehow -made their "door" between the worlds; that "door" which never appeared -twice in the same spot. At first they had been content to come in, -circle their noiseless vessels through the air as they observed the -Earth, then return through their shifting "door." They had refused -all contact. Then gradually evidence began to come in that they -were raiding undefended areas, abducting men and stealing property. -Their depredations increased through the years until eventually they -constituted a major menace.</p> - -<p>There was no effective defense against them. Now and then one of their -air ships was shot down but invariably it exploded before crashing. -At last, in desperation, the United Governments had attempted to get -operatives through with the captured persons. Ostby was one of the few -instances of success.</p> - -<p>For six months now, by dint of adroit maneuvering and luck, he had -managed to stay alive, but he was no nearer to closing the "door."</p> - -<p>Impatiently Ostby climbed to his feet and began pacing the room. He had -never been able to get used to these rooms, with no corners, and all -their furniture in the center. But they made for convenient pacing.</p> - -<p>Had he been wrong in his estimate of the Duchess, he wondered. She had -appeared too much woman to let matters of the state come ahead of her -private affairs. Suddenly he stopped in mid-stride as there came a -gentle tapping on his door. He had not been wrong!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">II</p> - -<p>The Duchess had been a woman of her word, Ostby reflected, as he leaned -against the counter sipping his drink. Knowing full well who he was, -she had allowed him to leave, making no demands of him, and inviting -him back whenever he cared to come. She was quite a woman. Some day, if -and when he was able to clear up this business, he would return.</p> - -<p>Now the time had come for him to change tactics. He had been able to -accomplish nothing by playing a lone hand. He needed help. When you -opposed the police the best place to seek help—he had decided—was -among others who broke the law. Thus he returned to the Flats, hangout -of the underworld.</p> - -<p>To make his contact with the underworld the first step should be some -spectacular move that would focus their attention on him. "Fill it up," -he said, sliding his glass along the bar. From his pocket he drew a -thick roll of bills, a thickness caused by paper padding.</p> - -<p>He paid for his drink and laid the roll carelessly at his elbow.</p> - -<p>A minute went by and he felt someone slide in beside him. From the -corner of his eye Ostby observed his companion. When he saw a hand -close over the bills, he reached swiftly over and gripped the wrist of -the hand that held the money. "Drop it," he said.</p> - -<p>The thief's lips parted over stained teeth, but he said nothing. For a -moment he stared back, viciously, then he shifted his body slightly and -Ostby felt a knife point pierce the flesh of his right side and come -to rest against his ribs. "Let go, bud." The thief spoke low without -moving his lips.</p> - -<p>Ostby hunched his shoulders and twisted his body around in a half -circle. As the thug went off balance Ostby pulled forward, still -gripping the wrist, and threw him over his shoulder. The thug struck -the floor on the flat of his back, and the wind left his lungs. He lay -for a moment, his body doubled up, and one leg kicking spasmodically, -as he fought for breath. Ostby bent over, picked up his money, and -leaned backward, with his elbows resting against the bar, and watched -the struggling man.</p> - -<p>All the fight had left the thief by the time he regained his breath. He -cast one venomous look at Ostby as he climbed to his feet, and left the -drinking place.</p> - -<p>The preliminaries were over. Now to await the main action. It was not -long in coming.</p> - -<p>"That was pretty rough treatment," a coarse voice near Ostby said. -He turned his head. The man had a day's growth of whiskers, and a -long scar stretched his mouth into a permanent grin. Ostby shrugged -noncommittally and turned back to his drink.</p> - -<p>"You a stranger in town?" the man persisted.</p> - -<p>Ostby nodded, as he frowned and brought his attention back to the -harsh-voiced man.</p> - -<p>"I'm not being nosey," the man said, "but you handle yourself like -a lad who's been around. And you must be afraid of the law or you -wouldn't be hanging out down here. Right?"</p> - -<p>Ostby turned and faced the stranger squarely. "Is it any of your -business?" he asked belligerently.</p> - -<p>The man held up his hand. "Take it easy," he said. "I'm looking for a -fellow like you. Do you have the guts to kill a man?"</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Ostby found a cellar window unlocked. He crawled through and let his -legs hang down. When they touched a floor he pulled himself completely -in. He paused and let his eyes become adjusted to the semi-dark.</p> - -<p>At the end of the cellar he could make out a short flight of stairs.</p> - -<p>Ostby climbed the stairs and softly opened the door. Directly in front -of him, but half way across the room, a fat man sat in an over-stuffed -armchair. He sat so quietly that at first Ostby thought that he was -dead.</p> - -<p>Only when he reached the fat man's side did he see that the slate gray -eyes of the man had been watching him since he entered.</p> - -<p>"If you were able to get this far," the fat man said, still not moving -a muscle, "my guards have been bought off."</p> - -<p>"You're Siggen?" Ostby asked.</p> - -<p>"Who else?" Siggen twisted his lips into an ironic smile and bowed his -head. "I'm Siggen, head of the thieves of Yarr. And you're here to kill -me. May I ask who sent you?"</p> - -<p>"Can't you guess?"</p> - -<p>"Many men would like to see me dead. Most of them are afraid to try it -themselves. Just as the one who sent you is afraid. But don't bother -telling me who did it. Roka has coveted my place for a long time."</p> - -<p>Ostby said nothing.</p> - -<p>"I trusted too much in my guards," Siggen said, more to himself than -to Ostby. "My reputation must have sunk low if they allowed themselves -to be bought." He sighed. "Perhaps it's no use trying to save this old -hulk, but hope dies hard." For a moment his tired face showed stark -and very naked in the light of the lamp. And somehow Ostby felt a bond -of sympathy with the old man. "How much will you take to spare my life?"</p> - -<p>"What will you pay?" Ostby asked.</p> - -<p>"Roka probably paid you a thousand heds," Siggen answered. "I'll pay -you ten thousand."</p> - -<p>"A fair enough exchange," Ostby said. "Except that I don't want money."</p> - -<p>"Then what do you want?"</p> - -<p>"I want help—to enter the Stalls. And to get out again with my life."</p> - -<p>"A simple order, for Siggen." The fat man had his vanity. "Give me a -day to plan it. You have my word."</p> - -<p>"Can I depend on it?"</p> - -<p>"Men have said many things about Siggen, but never that his word was -not good."</p> - -<p>"Then it's settled," Ostby said. "I'll be back tomorrow."</p> - -<p>"Just a minute before you go." The old man unclasped his puffy hands. -"You are an unusual man and you intrigue me. Would you mind telling me -your name?"</p> - -<p>"Not at all. It's James Ostby."</p> - -<p>"Ostby ... Ostby ..." the fat man pondered slowly. Then his head came -up. "The Berserker!" he said. He whistled low, under his breath. "Tell -me," he said, "why have we never met before. Or, if not, why are we -meeting now?"</p> - -<p>Ostby shrugged. "Perhaps because I have little confidence in others."</p> - -<p>"You do have the reputation of being a lone wolf." Siggen remarked -slowly. "After this business is over I'd be glad to consider -consolidating our, ah, talents. We could go far together."</p> - -<p>"You offer me this when you know me so little?"</p> - -<p>"The best test of good relations between men is an instinctive liking," -Siggen said. "I feel we have this, plus a common purpose."</p> - -<p>"I'll think it over," Ostby replied. "In the meantime I'll expect -results tomorrow."</p> - -<p>Ostby lay flat on his stomach with his head facing the window in front -of him. The window was set flush with the floor and he had a good view -of the Stalls across the street.</p> - -<p>The Stalls was a squat, three-story building, with a basement and a -sub-basement. The upper three stories were occupied by government -offices. The basement housed the heating equipment and was used as a -storage space. But it was the sub-basement that gave the place its -name. Here the slaves were kept until sold.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The deserted office room in which Ostby lay had been closed for many -months, and it was hot inside, and close. The sun shining through the -windows added to the heat, and the film of moisture that bathed his -body had long since developed small rivulets that collected in sodden -patches of his clothing.</p> - -<p>"How much longer will it be, Groves?" Ostby asked.</p> - -<p>"There's no way of knowing." The young man who sat with his back -resting against the wall had wilted under the heat and crawled over out -of the sunlight. "As soon as it's safe," he said. "Let me know if you -see anyone coming out."</p> - -<p>"I thought Siggen had fixed it so we could get in without any trouble?"</p> - -<p>"He bribed the guards," Groves replied. "But you saw those two men go -in. I recognized one of them as Boorrls of the secret police. They're -liable to turn up any place, any time. We'd be sticking our necks out -to go in while they're there."</p> - -<p>For another ten minutes neither man said a word. A big drop of moisture -collected on the cleft in the middle of Ostby's chin. He wished he were -certain that he could trust Groves. Groves was an open-faced young -man with candor in his blue eyes, and a ready smile that asked for -confidence, but somewhere in the man's makeup was a black streak, Ostby -reckoned.</p> - -<p>All morning Ostby's infallible intuition had throbbed a slow pulse -of warning. He knew better than to disregard that warning but when -he turned to thieves for help he had no right to expect sterling -characters for companions.</p> - -<p>Siggen should have enough control over his men to make Groves afraid -to double-cross him. And, strangely enough, Ostby trusted Siggen. His -intuition told him that Siggen was a man true to his own principles, -distorted though they might be.</p> - -<p>Ostby had seen another facet of Siggen's character that morning. When -he had returned to the house Siggen had introduced him to Groves, and -the three of them had gone down into the fat man's basement.</p> - -<p>"I want to show you a pretty sight," Siggen said.</p> - -<p>Lying on the basement floor was the body of a man. A knife was buried -in his throat. The dead mouth that smiled up at Ostby was widened by a -long scar.</p> - -<p>"What will we do when we get in the Stalls?" Groves interrupted Ostby's -reflections.</p> - -<p>Ostby did not answer, but turned his head to look at the young man, -long and levelly.</p> - -<p>"It's none of my business, of course," Groves added hurriedly, "but I -won't be much help in case of trouble if I don't even know what you're -trying to do."</p> - -<p>"If trouble comes we just get out as fast as we can."</p> - -<p>"You aren't going to try to get one of the slaves out, are you? You -told Siggen that you only wanted to get in, and get out again."</p> - -<p>"That's all I want."</p> - -<p>"It you're trying to close the 'door,' what would you want in...." -Abruptly Groves stopped talking. Ostby read the dismay in his voice as -he realized that he had said too much.</p> - -<p>Ostby rolled over on his side, bringing his gun up and firing in the -same motion. Groves had his own gun drawn when the slug caught him in -the forehead and slapped his head back as though riding the blow of a -fist. Slowly he fell sideways along the wall.</p> - -<p>Ostby was on his feet immediately. He'd have to move fast now, he knew. -No one but the police, or someone high in the Imperator's confidence, -would know that he was here to close the "door" between the worlds. -Groves had made a bad slip.</p> - -<p>In Groves' right rear pocket Ostby found a black billfold. Inside was -a white card with the word, <i>Confidential</i>, written on it. He found -nothing else of interest. But that was enough to wipe away Ostby's last -doubt. Sweat broke out anew on his forehead as he realized how close -the trap had come to closing around him. He might be too late already.</p> - -<p>On the other hand, he reflected, perhaps this would be the moment when -boldness would accomplish more than it ever could have in the past. He -had been able to get nowhere in the past months with caution, and this -time, being so close, he would not turn back.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">III</p> - -<p>Ostby entered the Stalls through a back door. The building was built on -a hill. At the front, the first floor was on the ground level. But the -door Ostby entered opened into the sub-basement.</p> - -<p>The card he had taken from Groves gained him ready admittance. He -flashed it once again to the clerk seated at a desk in the inner -office. The clerk nodded respectfully and Ostby went through into the -main section of the sub-basement; the section housing the slaves.</p> - -<p>The stench that struck his nostrils was nauseating. It stank of men too -closely crowded, of unwashed bodies, and of inadequate sanitation.</p> - -<p>The place was dimly lit.</p> - -<p>Ostby waved back the "trusty" who came forward to meet him, and went -alone along the stalls. At each gate he paused to look through the -thick mesh wire at the hope-deadened specimens who lay apathetically on -the uncleaned floor. Some of the prisoners were criminals of the state, -but most of them were captive Earth people.</p> - -<p>Ostby did not pause long at any compartment until he reached one in the -corner of the huge room. He studied the creature seated in a wall-crook -staring back at him. The slave's beard was an inch long and his -features were hardly recognizable, yet something about him held Ostby's -attention.</p> - -<p>After a short minute Ostby said, "Detroit," in a low tone.</p> - -<p>The prisoner did not move but his eyes glinted in the dim light as he -opened them wider. His lips formed the sound, "Tigers," as he answered -the code word.</p> - -<p>"What have they done with Rohr?" Ostby asked.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid you're too late," the slave answered. "The guard took him -away yesterday—through that door, over on the far side. If he's still -alive, they're probably torturing him right now."</p> - -<p>"I'll be back," Ostby said, and he walked rapidly toward the door the -prisoner had indicated.</p> - -<p>Once inside Ostby flashed his card at the guard sitting on a desk, -paring his fingernails. "Where's the spy?" he asked briskly.</p> - -<p>"Straight through," the guard answered. "Inspector Boorrls is working -on him now."</p> - -<p>In the back room Ostby closed the door behind him and stood with his -back against it. The two men standing in the center of the room turned -to look at him. He let the silence grow thin without speaking. It was -with an effort that he kept his eyes from the figure that hung by its -wrist tendons, on steel hooks suspended from the ceiling.</p> - -<p>The taller of the two men shifted his feet uncomfortably, and wiped his -right palm along the leg of his trousers. "What do you want?" he asked -irritably.</p> - -<p>Ostby drew his card from his pocket and showed it to them. "I'm direct -from the Imperator," he said. "Which one of you is Boorrls?"</p> - -<p>"I am," the tall man answered.</p> - -<p>"Have you made him talk yet?"</p> - -<p>"No. He's stubborn as all hell. But he'll talk soon or I'll kill him."</p> - -<p>"That's what the Imperator was afraid of," Ostby said bleakly. "And -that's why he sent me. Now get out while I try to save what you may -have lost already with your stupidity."</p> - -<p>For a moment the inspector seemed determined to bluff it out. "What did -you say?" he asked pugnaciously.</p> - -<p>"I said get out!" Ostby's voice did not rise, but there was no -mistaking the threat behind it.</p> - -<p>Boorrls broke easily. He was a bully. "C'mon, Jorg," he mumbled and the -two men left the room.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>The figure suspended on the hooks could not see Ostby. Where his eyes -had been were now only bloody orifices. His stomach was cut to ribbons -and the inside organs showed through. He was beyond the help of any -doctor.</p> - -<p>He seemed to have recognized Ostby's voice. His lips and tongue moved -agonizingly as he strove to speak. When he finally succeeded his voice -came from far back in his throat—hardly more than a whisper. "For -God's sake," the voice croaked, "kill me! Please!"</p> - -<p>Ostby repressed a shudder as he gently touched the tortured man's leg.</p> - -<p>They had picked him, back on Earth, for this job because his was a -sensitive organism, keyed with "high survival characteristics."</p> - -<p>His nervous system was geared exceptionally high, and its acute -reflexes with their delicate balance of intricate excitations made his -response to stimuli proportionately more rapid than that of other men.</p> - -<p>Yet this very sensitiveness of brain and nerve fiber made the brutal -circumstances with which he was forced to cope all the more difficult -to endure. It was ironical that the very qualities that made him the -most fit for this dangerous kind of work, made him suffer the greatest -under its harshness.</p> - -<p>Ostby could remember how, even as a child, he had suffered through this -keenness of emotional reaction. His empathy with any person or animal -in distress always caused him pain nearly as great as that of the -sufferer.</p> - -<p>In later years he had developed a philosophy that helped carry him -through most of those trying times. He had never exactly defined that -philosophy but it encompassed the ability to recognize "the little -things as little, and the big things as big; and to laugh in the face -of the inevitable, to smile even at the looming death."</p> - -<p>This philosophy was never able to give him the shell of hardness which -would have shielded him from most of the meanness of the world, but it -had given him the strength to bear it.</p> - -<p>Now the suffering of the wretched creature before him played along -Ostby's nerves like a live flame.</p> - -<p>"Everything will be over in a minute," he said softly. He opened his -shirt front and exposed a mesh-weave vest fitted close against his -skin. In the innumerable pockets of the vest he carried everything he -owned on this world.</p> - -<p>From one of the pockets he drew a hypodermic syringe with a plastic -vial filled with light green liquid. He pushed the needle into the -flesh of the hanging man's leg, and pressed the plunger home.</p> - -<p>A moment later the suspended figure sighed once, long and gratefully, -and was still. They would never be able to torture him again.</p> - -<p>Ostby studied the mechanism that held the hooks, but could find no way -to lower the body. Impatiently he pulled a chair over and stood on it. -He probed the body's thin left forearm with his thumbs until he found -the spot he sought.</p> - -<p>Drawing a sharp scalpel from his vest he cut a thin slit through the -flesh. When he felt the blade touch something solid he probed deeply -into the cut and brought out a small, innocuous appearing capsule. The -cut did not bleed and Ostby pressed its sides together. It appeared no -different than many of the other cuts on the emaciated body.</p> - -<p>He hesitated no longer than it took to pick the exact spot he wanted on -his own forearm. If they had been unable to find the hiding place on -Rohr, it should serve as well for him.</p> - -<p>With almost surgical skill he cut a small slit in the flesh of his -forearm. Probing with the scalpel until he had opened a small pocket, -he placed the capsule in the opening and forced it down. From the vest -he removed a flat carton and sprinkled sulpha powder into the cut. In -a few days time it would heal and there would be no mark left of the -hiding place. If he could only buy that few days' time!</p> - -<p>Ostby stepped through into the outer office. Boorrls and his aide -were nowhere about. That could be dangerous. His time was undoubtedly -running short.</p> - -<p>Ostby walked back to the stall of the prisoner he had conferred with -earlier, at the same time motioning the trusty over to him. "Open this -stall and let me in," he commanded.</p> - -<p>"Lock it again and leave us alone," he said to the trusty as he -entered. The trusty obeyed and left.</p> - -<p>Ostby turned immediately to the prisoner. "This is it," he said. "We'll -have to move fast." He took a flat tube from one of his vest pockets -and tossed it over. "First, get rid of that beard. But be sure to leave -a mustache and a chin beard like mine."</p> - -<p>The slave applied the depilatory to his beard. "What about Rohr?" he -asked.</p> - -<p>"Dead," Ostby answered laconically as he removed his clothes.</p> - -<p>Neither said anything more as the slave washed his face and wet his -hair from a trough of dirty water. In the meantime Ostby dirtied his -own face and hands. The slave stripped and they exchanged clothes.</p> - -<p>"Rattle on the gate," Ostby said after they finished. "It's not very -bright in here, and with that mustache and beard you should pass for me -without any trouble. But don't give them more chance than necessary to -spot the deception by wasting any time."</p> - -<p>Five minutes later Ostby was alone—just another grimy slave curled up -in his filthy sty. A perfect hideout. The last place they would look -for him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Sometime during the morning of the third day Ostby was awakened by the -rattling of the wire gate of his stall. He rolled over on his side and -looked out. The trusty who brought him his food twice a day was shaking -the gate.</p> - -<p>"On your feet," he said, "and make it snappy."</p> - -<p>Ostby climbed erect without argument. He had no intention of directing -attention to himself by making trouble. By now his black hair and beard -were matted with dirt, his skin was soiled with many thicknesses of -grime, and he stunk with the stench of the prison blocks.</p> - -<p>A few minutes later a short man—approximately six feet tall, but -short for these people—bustled importantly forward. He was dressed -in lace-adorned dress which proclaimed him one of this world's -aristocracy. The newcomer eyed Ostby disdainfully for a moment and then -passed on without a word.</p> - -<p>Later the self-important dandy returned with the trusty in tow. He -stopped in front of Ostby's cage. "Bring him out here where I can get a -better look at him," he ordered.</p> - -<p>The trusty unlocked the gate and Ostby shuffled out.</p> - -<p>"He's a filthy looking beast," the nobleman remarked, as he slowly -circled Ostby. He evidenced only the interest of a man appraising an -animal. "However, he seems to have a splendid body beneath those layers -of dirt. I'll take him, but I suppose I'll find him rotten with disease -when I have him cleaned up."</p> - -<p>The trusty and one of the guards snapped a leg-iron around Ostby's left -ankle while the nobleman went into the office to pay for his purchase. -They led Ostby out to a waiting carriage and secured the other end of -his leg-iron to a bolt set in the floor of the carriage. Two of the -nobleman's liveried servants seated themselves on either side of Ostby. -The nobleman sat across from them.</p> - -<p>They drove for almost a half-hour before the carriage stopped in front -of a low, one-storied stone building. No one spoke. The servants -alighted, and one of them unlocked Ostby's leg-iron from its bolt in -the floor.</p> - -<p>"Step down," the nearest servant said.</p> - -<p>Ostby obeyed and they walked, with Ostby again between them, toward the -stone house. The nobleman remained in the carriage.</p> - -<p>One of the servants opened the unlocked door of the stone house and the -other shoved Ostby through the doorway. They closed the door behind -him, and he stood in a dark room, blinded by the sudden change from -bright sunlight. The first sight that met his eyes, as they adjusted to -the dim light lurking under the drawn shades, was the familiar one of a -fat man slumped in an easy chair!</p> - -<p>"Welcome to my new abode," Siggen said.</p> - -<p>The events of the past hour snapped into place in Ostby's mind in an -instant and he evidenced no surprise as he smiled back at Siggen. He -even debated with himself whether or not Siggen had done him a service -by taking him from his foolproof hiding place so soon. But then he had -another in mind that should serve as well if he had not underestimated -his influence with the Duchess, Rinda.</p> - -<p>"You pay your debts, I see," he said.</p> - -<p>"Siggen's word is his bond," the fat man said. "I told you I would get -you in and get you out. Our bargain is now complete."</p> - -<p>"Your man put on a good act as a nobleman," Ostby said. "He fooled me -as completely as he did the guards."</p> - -<p>"It was no act," Siggen replied. "He is a nobleman. But he owed Siggen -a favor."</p> - -<p>"Good work," Ostby said. "Accept my thanks. Incidentally, I suppose you -know by now that your man, Groves, was a secret agent?"</p> - -<p>"No, I did not," Siggen answered. "I wondered why he never returned. I -presume you took care of him?"</p> - -<p>"Yes," Ostby replied.</p> - -<p>"Good," Siggen said. "I almost missed knowing they had you. The reports -were that the Berserker had been shot leaving the Stalls. But I sent a -man to check on it and he reported that the man shot by the police was -not you."</p> - -<p>So poor Barbasiewiez had not gotten away, Ostby reflected sadly. And -Rohr, too, was dead. That left him completely alone. But he had made -some progress. He had the capsule. If the Duchess would hide him until -he was ready for his next action he might still be able to close the -"door." "Can you get me a carriage?" he asked Siggen.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>"I think you'd be taking too big a chance if you went to the palace, -even with the crowd there for the ball," the Duchess said.</p> - -<p>Her anxiety made Ostby a bit uncomfortable. Their flirtation was no -longer a game with her. He felt a bit guilty whenever he observed, by -the thousand little signs she gave, that she was in love with him.</p> - -<p>In ordinary times he might have loved her, also; but he was a man who -never did things by halves. He had come to this world for one purpose, -and he would not allow himself to be diverted from it—not even by a -woman so fascinating as Rinda!</p> - -<p>He looked at her now, beside him, with her rich brown hair done up in a -pug on the back of her neck, and intertwined with a string of matched -pearls; her soft skin, which the sun had turned to the shade of golden -honey; and her red lips.</p> - -<p>She returned the look, her blue eyes warm with love. She was a tall -woman, well-formed, and she rested languidly against her cushions, but -deep within Ostby could read the quiescent female vitality that rode -her always.</p> - -<p>"I'm afraid that I have no choice," he said gently. "It's something -that I must do."</p> - -<p>He was glad that she had never questioned him in the week he had been -with her, since his escape from the Stalls. She knew only that he was -doing something unlawful, and that the police wanted him badly.</p> - -<p>But she was a temperamental woman, Ostby knew, and her moods were as -sudden and mercurial as a tropic storm. Now he observed one of those -sudden changes building up within her.</p> - -<p>"I've decided not to let you go," she said. "It's too dangerous."</p> - -<p>Ostby had had enough experience with her to know that temporizing was -useless. It hurt him to be brutal, especially when he realized that -her stubbornness was prompted by concern for him, but he could not let -himself be detained now. "I must," he said, "and there's no use our -arguing about it."</p> - -<p>"I said you're not going," she repeated.</p> - -<p>"If you wish, I'll return when I'm able," Ostby said, rising.</p> - -<p>She, too, recognized the inflexible spirit in him, and passion flared -up suddenly in her face. A flush of blood darkened the olive of her -skin. She twisted in sudden fury and buried her teeth in the flesh of -his wrist.</p> - -<p>Ostby reached over with his free hand and dug his fingers deeply into -the ridge of her jawbone.</p> - -<p>"I'll kill you for that!" she gritted, releasing her grip.</p> - -<p>Ostby knew they had gone too far now for any hope of reconciliation. -He bent her arms behind her back and bound them tightly with the long -sleeves of her gown.</p> - -<p>The Duchess was relaxed now, making no attempt to resist him. Her face -had gone hard and the skin was stretched tightly across her cheekbones.</p> - -<p>She said nothing as he bound her feet and gagged her. But the venom in -her eyes made him pause. This woman was not soft, he saw, and he knew -he had made an enemy who would be ruthless. He did not look back as he -left the room but he could feel her gaze following him—hating him, as -only a frustrated woman can hate!</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">IV</p> - -<p>He glanced up at the huge square frame of the palace, crouched like -a great machine waiting to devour him. There was something about the -building that was subtle, mysterious, luring. Engraved in deep convex -letters above the door was the motto of the Imperator: THE WORLD -BELONGS TO THE STRONG. Now for the first time, Ostby thought, he was -to meet that controversial figure face to face.</p> - -<p>There was no formal greeting of the entering guests. Two liveried -servants stood at either side of the entrance, eyeing, politely but -carefully, each entrant. They did not stop Ostby and he passed through -the doorway. He deposited his outer wrap with still other servants -inside, and mingled unobtrusively with the guests in the wide entrance -hall.</p> - -<p>For a half-hour Ostby loitered about the edge of the thickening crowd, -wearing an expression of abstract concentration that discouraged -conversation. At the end of that time the Imperator had not appeared. -Ostby decided to wait no longer.</p> - -<p>Walking casually down a long corridor that led into the palace he began -his search for the man he wanted. The occasional servants he met asked -no questions. They merely nodded politely and went about their duties.</p> - -<p>When he came to a long circular stairway he walked quickly up. He knew -that the closer he came to his goal the greater would be the risk. But -this was not the time for surreptitious conniving. Only action would -produce results now.</p> - -<p>A door opened suddenly behind him and a voice said, "Keep walking."</p> - -<p>Strangely Ostby was glad to hear the voice.</p> - -<p>"I'm not moving," he said.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/illus.jpg" alt=""/> -</div> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p>A gun pressed against his back and he knew the time had come to act. -Pivoting on the balls of his feet he knocked aside the hand that held -the gun with his left arm. As he completed the pivot he aimed his right -fist at the stranger's face.</p> - -<p>His assailant rolled with the blow and it caught him with glancing -force on the chin. But it was hard enough to drive him off his feet.</p> - -<p>Ostby followed swiftly, but his opponent turned like a cat and kicked -both feet into his stomach. The kick knocked the breath from Ostby's -lungs. Black circles ringed his vision and the only thing that worked -then was instinct. He grabbed at the ankles as the man's feet came up -again. Letting the momentum of the kick furnish most of the power, he -pulled on the ankles in a circular jerk that lifted the man clear off -the floor.</p> - -<p>Ostby swung him around in a wide circle, scraping his head and -shoulders on the wall of the hallway, before releasing his grip. The -gunman crashed unconscious against the far wall.</p> - -<p>Ostby took two steps forward, and a blinding light bathed his body! He -turned, raising one leg to retreat, and found himself fighting with an -awful exertion to set it down again!</p> - -<p>The air had become viscous, and he took one step that felt as though he -were walking in freshly mixed cement. The cement hardened rapidly and -held him rigid. Next his vision blurred, and he stood with all power of -motion gone. His respiratory function was his only movement.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>He was no longer rational enough to judge when the agony in his muscles -changed their tenor to the sensation of a thousand needles being -stabbed into his flesh. Somehow he knew that this meant the paralysis -was leaving.</p> - -<p>The first muscles to free themselves were those in the lids of his -eyes. He opened them and found himself staring into the iciest, most -emotionless eyes he had ever seen. Strangely enough they were brown -eyes yet they gave the definite impression of being colorless.</p> - -<p>The eyes were in a face carved with lines of craglike pride. -Strength and ruthlessness breathed in every feature. Ostby needed no -introduction to know that the face belonged to the Imperator!</p> - -<p>A voice said, "He can see and hear now. But his power of speech and -movement won't return for a few minutes." The voice came from Ostby's -right. He was unable to turn to see who spoke.</p> - -<p>The Imperator smiled. "My Name is Magogar," he said to Ostby in a voice -an octave lower then normal. "I've been waiting a long time to meet -you."</p> - -<p>Ostby returned the look, wordlessly—all he was capable of doing.</p> - -<p>"We'll begin our discussion," Magogar said, "with my telling you that I -know you are the one they call the Berserker, what your mission is, and -much else about you that you may not suspect. On the other hand, there -are many things you do not know about me, and, strange as it may seem, -there are some things concerning yourself that you do not know.</p> - -<p>"When you were first brought into our world," Magogar continued, "you -made the mistake of confiding in several of your fellow captives, -thinking that they would aid you. Needless to say, one of them talked. -That last I probably don't have to tell you; you must have guessed, -because you made your escape soon after. You didn't even try your -preconcocted story."</p> - -<p>"You knew about that too?" Ostby asked, and was surprised that he was -able to speak again.</p> - -<p>"Yes. You were right in believing that your confidants would be -sympathetic to your schemes, but you forgot one thing. Men can be made -to talk."</p> - -<p>Ostby had recovered some of his self-possession by this time. "If you -know, tell me what that plan was," he said.</p> - -<p>"Certainly," Magogar replied. He rose to his feet and walked with long -strides about the room. Ostby was surprised at the breath and girth of -the man. At first glance he appeared squat. But that appearance was -a deception caused by his great bulk. He was as tall as Ostby, but -heavier of bone, and must have weighed a hundred pounds more. He walked -heavily, each step landing forcefully on the heel of the foot.</p> - -<p>"One of our ships," the Imperator said, "read your distress signal of -colored rocks and picked you up. Your story was to be that you were -a survivor of a ship of ours which crashed twenty years earlier. I -believe you had established quite an authentic story. Your mother and -father had been hurt, and died several years after the crash, you said. -But not before they had taught you, their six-year-old son, to care for -himself, to pass as one of the people of the world in which you found -yourself, and last, how to establish contact with us. It was a good -story, and its background was authentic. Tell me, why did you decide -not to use it?"</p> - -<p>Ostby shrugged. "Mainly because I made the mistake of confiding my -plans to several of your prisoners. And you forced one of them to talk."</p> - -<p>Unexpectedly Magogar no longer seemed to be paying attention to Ostby. -He had turned his head and was looking to his left. It was then Ostby -remembered that he had made no effort to discover to whom the other -voice he had heard belonged. The thought of it now made him realize -how much his faculties had been dulled by their session under the -paralysis. Ordinarily, by this time he would have had every detail -of the room catalogued in his mind. He hastened now to correct the -omission.</p> - -<p>The sight that met his eyes as he turned his head was one that would -stay with him for all the years of his life!</p> - -<p>A square, paneled box, supported by four sturdy legs, rested against -the wall, across the room from them. In the center of the box was a -large eye!</p> - -<p>The eye had no pupil; its entire surface was one of mottled streaks -of gray, pink, and black. The colors slowly flowed and changed, -following a seemingly erratic pattern. It was the weirdest sight -Ostby ever expected to see. And behind and through it all glowed -intelligence—human, reasoning intelligence!</p> - -<p>Vaguely, through his momentary funk, Ostby heard the Imperator's voice, -"Allow me to introduce you to the Brain."</p> - -<p>Then those vague rumors he had heard had been true, Ostby reflected, or -at least some facets of them. He had heard talk—which he had regarded -as superstitions—that the Imperator possessed the living brain of -a man long dead, a brain of infinite wisdom, and possessing all the -knowledge there was to be had. Ostby was forced to believe in its -existence now, for here he was faced with the living proof.</p> - -<p>Once again Magogar's words interrupted his reverie. But the words were -not directed at him. "He's here now. What did you want to ask before I -have him killed?"</p> - -<p>"You may change your mind about that after you hear what I have to -say," a voice from the box answered. "You call yourself Ostby," it -said. "Do you remember your father or your mother?"</p> - -<p>Ostby stared at the apparition, not answering. The reality of the -present situation, and yet its impossibility, was overwhelming.</p> - -<p>The voice in the box continued. "I believe that I am safe in assuming -that you do not remember them. I would like now to give you a -hypothetical problem. If we were to assume that everything upon which -you built your life were false: that the men you trusted lied to you: -that you are not even who and what you believe you are ... what would -you do?"</p> - -<p>The voice paused, but Ostby remained silent and it went on, "The -records of the people of our world, who crashed in yours, I assume you -studied very carefully. That would be necessary to make your planned -deception more effective. Their names were Shemolang and Roelang. Am I -correct?"</p> - -<p>Ostby nodded. The Brain went on. "Shemolang was no ordinary man. He was -first in line for the Imperator office, after Magogar."</p> - -<p>The voice shifted its focus by some subtle change of the vision in the -eye, and Ostby knew that it no longer addressed him. "Will you look in -the files and find a picture there of Shemolang, Magogar?"</p> - -<p>The Imperator brought his attention to alertness with an obvious effort -of will. He had been listening as intently as Ostby. Now he rose and -walked to the indicated files.</p> - -<p>After a minute he drew a picture from one of the files and studied -it. The Imperator gasped and murmured, "I had almost forgotten how he -looked."</p> - -<p>"Show the picture to Mr. Ostby, will you please?" the Brain said.</p> - -<p>Ostby took the picture and the first glance sent a shock through his -system that started as a weight in the pit of his stomach and flooded -his body like fever. The picture that looked back at him was very -nearly a replica of himself!</p> - -<p>"Your father," the Brain interrupted his thoughts. "You not only have -had a vast deception practiced upon you, but you have been fighting -your own people!"</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">V</p> - -<p>That night Ostby slept very little. In his thoughts two emotions -fought for dominance. On the one side were the people of Earth—he -still thought of it as his Earth. He had lived with them; they were -his friends; their problems and joys had always been his—until now. -The menace to them had been his to share, and to help eliminate. He -had accepted this assignment knowing that, at best, he would never be -able to return; at worst, that he would be killed. And he had taken it -willingly.</p> - -<p>Now he knew that he had been duped. He had been an alien among the -people he loved. And they had sent him to fight his own kind!</p> - -<p>His final decision came hard, but by morning he had made his choice.</p> - -<p>He rose early but had to wait until well into the afternoon before the -Imperator put in an appearance.</p> - -<p>Magogar greeted Ostby with a smile, but there was no friendliness in -it. He was a man who made no friends. The people about him were divided -into two classes: those who served or obeyed him, and those who opposed -him. The latter did not survive long.</p> - -<p>"Step out onto the sun balcony with me," the Imperator said, with the -easy assurance of a man accustomed to obedience. He strolled to the -railing of the balcony and leaned against it, looking out over the -water of the city's harbor. The balcony extended out over the water, -which came directly up to a small walk bordering the palace.</p> - -<p>"I have given your case very deep thought," the Imperator said, "and I -will be perfectly frank with you. Whether I accept you or dispose of -you will be directly determined by what I decide within the immediate -future. There is no point in my asking your views because your range of -choices is very small, and entirely incidental to my decision. You can -willingly accept whatever I decide for you—if I let you live—or you -can oppose me. The latter, of course, would be tantamount to asking for -death. Do you have anything to say before we continue?"</p> - -<p>"Not knowing what you have to offer leaves me with no possibility of -making a choice," Ostby said carefully.</p> - -<p>It was immediately evident, however, that he had made a wrong choice -of words. The Imperator's arrogant brows rose and he frowned. "I never -<i>offer</i> anything," he said, spacing each word with a hard emphasis, -"except the choice of accepting my decisions."</p> - -<p>When Ostby made no reply, Magogar seated himself and remained in deep -introspection.</p> - -<p>"Let me tell you a story," he said finally. "At first it may sound -like idle boasting, but I can readily demonstrate to you that I am the -living proof of its authenticity."</p> - -<p>The Imperator paused while he tilted back his chair and stared at -the ceiling. "In the early years of man's existence," he said, "he -possessed two physical survival characteristics. First, he could -run. As he was one of the weakest of the animals he found that most -expeditious. And because the instinct to run grew to occupy a prominent -place in his emotional makeup, it enabled him to survive.</p> - -<p>"The other survival factor was to fight. The fighters died an earlier -death than did those that ran, and they had fewer progeny. But those -fighters that lived ruled the tribes.</p> - -<p>"During each generation these separate instincts developed and became -more virile. The numbers of the fleers propagated and soon the mass of -the human race consisted of their descendants. The fighters, however, -ruled the tribes, as was logical. They were the doers, and became the -leaders.</p> - -<p>"I, Mr. Ostby, am a direct descendant of this long line of -fighters—perhaps its culmination. I have never known fear, and I never -flee! I have inherited the strength of those ancestors, and I rule -now because I am the strongest man in the world, both mentally and -physically. The world belongs to the strong, and I am the strongest. -Let that weigh heavily in every thought you have concerning me."</p> - -<p>Ostby found himself wondering in amazement at the colossal pride that -could give birth to such thought processes.</p> - -<p>"Now," the Imperator went on, "let me give you one last warning before -you leave. You may be in line for my position, and you must prove to -me that you are strong enough to take my place, if that ever becomes -necessary. On the other hand if your strength evidences itself by the -slightest opposition to me, I will kill you. Thus you have a fine line -to walk, with your life hanging in the balance.</p> - -<p>"This concludes our interview until later this afternoon," the -Imperator said. "I would suggest, in the meantime, that you consult the -Brain. He can supply you with an understanding of our background which -you may find useful."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Ostby was glad the Imperator had suggested his speaking with the Brain. -He had made his decision now, but there was much the Brain could tell -him that he needed to know.</p> - -<p>He walked down one flight and into the room housing the Brain. When -he arrived he found it awake and obviously watching him. Once again -he experienced a vast discomfort in meeting that giant eye, with its -mottled apperception. He wondered uneasily if it had the power to read -his mind.</p> - -<p>Ostby's unease was not lessened by the Brain's first words. "You have -finished your interview with the Imperator," it said. "Evidently you -were wise enough not to antagonize him or you would not be here now. Is -there anything special you would like to ask me?"</p> - -<p>There was much he wanted to learn from the Brain and Ostby had no -hesitation in replying.</p> - -<p>"What are you?" he asked without preliminaries. "How old are you, and -just what is the extent of your powers?"</p> - -<p>For a moment Ostby was afraid that he had, in some way, made a wrong -approach, and that the Brain would refuse to answer him, for it was -silent. But finally it said, quietly, "Perhaps one question at a time -would be better for both of us. I can answer directly then, and you -will be able to assimilate the answers more easily. Some of them will -have many ramifications and require supplementary explanations.</p> - -<p>"I am over five hundred years old. I was originally a man, the same as -yourself, and one of the few real scientists our race has produced. -I limited my activity to no one field, but delved into anything that -interested me. One of my interests was longevity. When I decided that -immortality was limited by the weaknesses of the bodily vehicle to -which I was tied, I designed this instrument in which my brain resides, -and trained others to make the essential transfer. Does that answer -your questions?"</p> - -<p>"All except the extent of your intellectual ability. The rumor is that -you know everything."</p> - -<p>"That, of course, is ridiculous. Knowledge is like a fan-shaped wave; -beginning with the first fact learned, and spreading wider and wider -the more one learns. I started with an exceptional intellect, and for -five hundred years have acquired as much knowledge as that intellect, -and a vast curiosity, could give me."</p> - -<p>"I see," Ostby said as he framed the next question in his mind. "What -is your relationship with the Imperator?" he asked. "Are you an ally or -a servant?"</p> - -<p>"That is a bit difficult to answer," the Brain said, "because it -depends on the viewpoint of the observer. As far as Magogar is -concerned, I suppose I am both, though surely more of a servant than -an equal. As I regard it, he is merely another man, though one who -supplies me with most of the material for speculation which I desire."</p> - -<p>"Are you loyal to him?"</p> - -<p>"As you mean it, no. Loyalty implies an emotional basis. I'm afraid -that I have none of the standard emotions. I will answer any question -put to me by anyone. I care nothing about the purpose of the question -or to what use the answer is put."</p> - -<p>"Could I ask a question, in confidence, and be certain that you would -not reveal that I did so to the Imperator?" Ostby asked. This could be -placing his neck in the noose, he knew, and he waited anxiously for the -answer.</p> - -<p>"No," the Brain replied. "I would volunteer nothing to him, but I would -tell him anything he asked."</p> - -<p>Ostby decided that he needed time to think over this facet of the Brain -before he ventured further. First, he would attempt to learn other -facts which he might need later. Perhaps he could even obtain the -answer he wanted in a roundabout way. "What is the population of your -world?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"Approximately seven million. Over a million live here, in Yarr, our -one mechanized city."</p> - -<p>"Why is it that you have so little technology, as compared with the -Earth?"</p> - -<p>"I suppose that its basis is our low birth rate," the Brain answered. -"There is ample living space here, as well as natural resources, to -supply our people's needs. Thus there is little necessity for them to -shape and remake their environment. It is always easiest to accept -nature as it is, if that can be done with a minimum of self-adjusting."</p> - -<p>"Then why is this city of Yarr different?"</p> - -<p>"Yarr is the creation of one man, a man hungry for power, for the -authority, and the strength to dominate everything about him; to hold -the lives of men and women in the hollow of his hand. That man, you -will recognize, is Magogar. In his creed strength is right; in fact, it -is everything. It is the philosophy that controls him, and through him, -the city. Under his rule the unfit are killed, or at best, allowed to -perish on the ragged confines of our artificial civilization."</p> - -<p>"What is your opinion of that philosophy?"</p> - -<p>"Magogar is wrong, beyond a doubt," the Brain answered unhesitatingly. -"Any species survives and develops through cooperation, and -self-restraint of its individual members. Ruthless self-assertion is a -stumbling block to human progress. Magogar is right when he says that -the world belongs to the strong. It must, by the very constitution of -man. But a ruler who is merely strong will inevitably be overthrown. -Eventually the world will be governed by the strong, but by the strong -who are noble as well."</p> - -<p>"Magogar's philosophy seems to me to be the outgrowth of an overweening -pride," Ostby said.</p> - -<p>"Perhaps. Up to a point self-admiration is not to be deplored. But in -excess it is an evil thing."</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Now, Ostby decided, was the time to ask his vital question. "Don't -you think that you and your people would be better off if the 'door' -between the worlds were closed?" He held his breath while he waited for -the answer.</p> - -<p>"You are making a mistake if you associate me, in your mind, with my -world's people," the Brain said. "Not having a body to inspire emotion, -wants and desires, I am tied to them by nothing. Whether they are -better or worse off concerns me not at all. Whether they are happy, -or even all die, concerns me equally as little. But you are right. -The 'door' is a bad thing for them. This city is a parasite. All its -technology, its customs, its sins, its vices, are copied from your -Earth. Without the 'door' this city, this artificial oddity, would -vanish. Its inhabitants would disperse and resume their pastoral life, -where, I assure you, they would be much happier.</p> - -<p>"And the solution to this is, as you say, the closing of the 'door.' -Because every machine we have, that we did not steal, is manufactured -by captives from Earth."</p> - -<p>He was in too deep to back out now, Ostby decided. He plunged -recklessly into the next question. "Can you tell me something about the -operation of the 'door'?"</p> - -<p>"This is not the first time the 'door' has appeared between our -worlds," the Brain said, "though I know very little about its original -appearance. Practically all I know about that is the result of abstract -speculation. It appeared at least once before, thousands of years ago. -My own theory is that at that time there was a mass migration from our -world to yours, and that the present Earth people are descendants of -our own ancestors."</p> - -<p>The Brain paused for a long minute before continuing. "I have studied -many of the writings of the Earth, and am quite certain that I know -more about its history than its average citizen. Do you recall the -evidence found concerning the Cro-Magnon man of Earth's prehistoric -ages? It seems that the so-called Neanderthal man was the animal that -most nearly approached the present homo sapiens, until suddenly—as -such things are reckoned—he was supplanted by another, much more -advanced species of man, the Cro-Magnon. My research leads me to -believe that those Cro-Magnon men migrated from our world to yours!"</p> - -<p>A dozen questions sprang to Ostby's mind concerning this fascinating -theory, but he put them aside impatiently. He was a man with a bulldog -tenacity of purpose, and he had no intention of wasting time on -questions prompted by idle curiosity.</p> - -<p>"That's a very interesting theory," he said, "and I would like to -discuss it more fully some other time. But for now, are you telling me -that the 'door' is a natural phenomenon?"</p> - -<p>"Not the present 'door,'" the Brain replied. "It was created, -approximately twenty years ago, by the concentration and intellectual -power of one mind—my own!"</p> - -<p>"But how did you do it?"</p> - -<p>"I don't know how much knowledge you have of physics," the Brain said -slowly. "The explanation is a bit technical for the untrained man to -understand. However, I'll explain it as simply as I can.</p> - -<p>"Matter, as you probably know, is made up of tiny electrified bodies -called electrons. When measurements were made it was found that -the whole mass of the electron is due to its electrical charge. -The inevitable conclusion is that the material universe is not the -substantial, objective thing it was formerly thought to be. Matter -is a completely spectral thing with no actual substance. The idea of -substance must be replaced by that of behavior.</p> - -<p>"Thus, opening the 'door' became a problem of controlling that behavior -in such a way as to create a refraction of the matter separating -worlds. That is not as simple as it may sound because a mind, to be -able to do it, must possess a thorough understanding of the forces it -deals with. It must have a tremendous capacity for concentration, and -its logic must be entirely uninfluenced by emotion. I believe it is -safe to say that no other mind, before mine, has ever combined these -qualities in sufficient degree to accomplish the deed."</p> - -<p>Strangely Ostby was not too surprised by this revelation. The makers of -the capsule residing in the flesh of his left forearm had concluded, as -a result of their studies, that the "door" might be the product of mind -power. Their greatest mistake had been that it would take the combined -power of at least eight brilliant minds to achieve the necessary matter -refraction.</p> - -<p>Here, then, lay the end of his search, Ostby knew. He regretted that -its conclusion must entail the death of the Brain.</p> - -<p>Somewhat as a form of apology he said, "It probably won't surprise you -too much to know that I have decided to continue my fight on the side -of the people of Earth. I am not going to let the accident of ancestry -blind me to the justice of their cause. Also, regardless of my personal -feelings, I must do whatever is necessary to attain my end. Do you see -what I am trying to say?"</p> - -<p>"I do," the Brain answered. "Your next question is, will I consent to -close the 'door' voluntarily. My answer will be no, and then you will -say that you must kill me. Am I right?"</p> - -<p>Ostby nodded. "Tell me," he said, "are you not afraid to die?"</p> - -<p>"The instinct of self-preservation is as strong in me as it ever was."</p> - -<p>"Then I can only offer you my deepest regrets for what I must do." -Ostby rose and gripped the back of his chair—he should be able to -smash the brain-box with that, he decided—and found himself unable to -lift it!</p> - -<p>"And I must offer my regrets at the necessity of defending myself," the -Brain said ironically. "I will allow no one to harm me. I am going to -release you from my mental grip now, and I want you to leave this room. -Never come in my presence again with the intent to harm me or I will be -forced to kill you." The voice was entirely emotionless throughout.</p> - -<p>Ostby's strength returned in a warm wave that washed his body free of -the stasis that bound him, and vigor flowed back into his muscles. But -he knew he was helpless before the unnormal powers of the mind before -him, and he turned and left the room.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p class="ph1">VI</p> - -<p>By the time Ostby reached the outer balcony a black frustration clogged -his veins. To be so close and still be unable to act. He was willing -to give his life to close the "door," but every way he turned he found -himself battering against walls of futility. The anger within him -now, so close to despair, was more than he could control. His reason -feared that anger and he fought against it, but it went with him like a -tangible thing and he knew that he could no longer restrain it.</p> - -<p>The sight of the Imperator lounging in an easy chair on the balcony, -his face, arrogant and powerful, set in its habitual expression of -disdainful hauteur, did nothing to ease Ostby's emotional storm.</p> - -<p>"I've been reading the police reports concerning you and giving them -some thought," the Imperator's voice laid its heavy weight on him. "My -conclusions are not very flattering. I find you lack many admirable -qualities. I'm about convinced that your dominant characteristics are -cunning and guile rather than strength. If there is one thing I hate -it's a dissembling man."</p> - -<p>"You could be wrong," Ostby said, so softly that only a man as -confident and self-assured as the Imperator would have missed the -pent-up force behind the softness.</p> - -<p>The Imperator waved his hand negligently. "I'll admit that you -displayed ingenuity in hiding from the police," he said, "and you have -a certain amount of animal-like adaptation to danger. But when you -fought it was only with the desperation of a cornered rat! Your most -noteworthy trait is subterfuge. I despise a gutless man!"</p> - -<p>"Does it take guts to boast of your strength while hiding behind a -palace guard?" Ostby asked.</p> - -<p>For the time it took an incredulous expression to cross his face -Magogar sat still, not believing what he had heard. No one spoke to him -like that! He straightened and turned to face Ostby full on. "Will you -repeat that?" he asked, the words half strangling in his throat.</p> - -<p>"You heard me correctly," Ostby said, seating himself deliberately and -insolently in a chair that faced the Imperator across a heavy wooden -table. He had thrown the gauntlet. Now to strike hard at the twisted -core of pride that bent the Imperator to fit its ruthlessness. "You -boasted that you were the strongest man in the world, physically and -mentally. You're wrong on both considerations. Mentally you are weak, -with a sick and rotten pride that warps your mind. I believe you're -even a bit insane."</p> - -<p>The Imperator rose to his feet. Muscles bunched in hard straight lines -along the ridges of his jaw, and the flanges of his nose were white -with suppressed rage.</p> - -<p>Ostby went inexorably on. "Physically you've passed your prime. Soft -living has coated your muscles with fat, and fat girds your middle. -You...."</p> - -<p>"You've said enough," the Imperator interrupted. He reached toward a -bell resting on the table between them.</p> - -<p>"Wait!" Ostby stopped him with the word. "What is the strong man going -to do? Ring for his men to help him? Are you a coward as well as a -braggart?" Ostby could see his words strike like blows.</p> - -<p>The Imperator, his eyes wide open, wicked and quiet, sat down -purposefully. Oddly he seemed to have recovered his self-control. "Pull -your chair up to the table," he said. "We will see where the strength -lies."</p> - -<p>This was the moment! Now, Ostby reflected, if only he hadn't -overestimated himself. With the thought came a tinge of doubt. Perhaps -he would find that he was governed by the same false pride of which he -had accused Magogar.</p> - -<p>He followed the Imperator's example and laid his left arm flat on the -table. Their left hands made contact. They rested their right elbows, -their arms forming an elevated triangle, with the table's surface as -the third side.</p> - -<p>They gripped right hands, each large and powerful. Ostby hoped that -he had the sheer animal strength to cope with the Imperator's extra -hundred pounds of weight.</p> - -<p>The Imperator threw his full strength into a forward press, and they -were locked in fierce, inarticulate conflict. Ostby felt the muscles -in his forearm, his biceps, and into his shoulder protest against the -violent strain. It took all his strength to meet the power that beat -against him, wave upon wave, and he realized immediately that the -best he could hope to do was hold his own. He set his muscles, with -all his might behind them, and watched almost disinterestedly as the -cords of his forearms swelled and pushed out the skin until they stood -like taut wires. A dull ache came into the shoulder socket, and he -felt perspiration gather in a cold drop in the pit of his arm and roll -clammily down his ribs. He knew now that, whatever he might have said, -the Imperator was not soft.</p> - -<p>For a long minute, while the realities about them seemed to pause, they -held their position, both straining every muscle. The Imperator's face -turned slowly red. The red flowed down his cheeks and into the corded -tendons of his neck. Ostby could feel a pulse pounding in his own -temple.</p> - -<p>Suddenly, though he felt no relaxation in the Imperator's arm, Ostby -knew he had won. Something in the grip of the hands told him that from -here in he was in command. The first concrete sign of it, however, -showed in the Imperator's face. Ostby saw the first doubt creep into -the cruel down-slanting corners of his mouth, and deep within the -features of his face there was a sign of remote breakage. With the loss -of certainty came a kind of shame into the man's face, and before -Ostby's eyes he changed. Changed as the things he had lived for, all -his life, were destroyed.</p> - -<p>There was an excitement in Ostby now, and the excitement pleased him. -He bent the Imperator's arm slowly back, until it was a few inches -above the table top. He shot the adrenalin of his excitement into his -arm and rapped the knuckles of the Imperator's hand sharply against the -table.</p> - -<p>For a moment they sat in a silence that carried more inflection than -any noise. The Imperator's head was dropped as he went through his -lonely thoughts. When he rose all reason had left him, and his face -was twisted into a snarl of bottomless hate. Ostby knew he was facing -a madman. A brutish roar rose from the Imperator's massive chest and -rolled along the walls of the room. He reached for Ostby, and the table -between them collapsed before his advance.</p> - -<p>In the hall behind him Ostby heard the sound of running feet, and he -knew he had to act, fast and forcefully. He set himself flat on his -feet and brought his right arm around with fierce strength. His fist -landed squarely against the Imperator's jaw.</p> - -<p>The Imperator stood motionless and his eyes rolled slowly back. He -swayed—with his body still unbending—and fell across the upturned -table. He lay very still.</p> - -<p>Ostby ran quickly to the balcony ledge and dived over.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Ostby swam underwater until his burning lungs forced him to the -surface. He observed with relief that he had placed a bend in the -harbor shore between him and the view from the balcony. He pulled -himself from the water and walked rapidly away. The first shadows of -evening had begun to fall and he hoped his wet clothing would not -arouse too much attention. His broken right hand throbbed with dull -anguish.</p> - -<p>A half-hour later Ostby entered the Flats and made his way toward -Siggen's house. He was only a few blocks from his destination when a -tightening between his shoulder blades warned him of danger. Swiftly he -turned. His throat quickened as he saw two men, a half-block behind, -hurrying to overtake him. He began to run. He'd be safe if he could -reach Siggen's.</p> - -<p>Then with dismay he noted two men ahead of him blocking the walk. He -looked desperately to either side for a way out.</p> - -<p>He spied a passageway between two houses and cut sharply in between -them. Behind him he heard a shout and men running. In front loomed a -high fence. A blind alley!</p> - -<p>Without pausing, he leaped high and caught the top of the fence, his -shattered hand protesting every movement. Swinging his body like a -pendulum he pulled his feet up. "I've got to make it!" he breathed.</p> - -<p>He didn't!</p> - -<p>His feet missed the top of the fence and fell back. He hung for a -second, helpless.</p> - -<p>He felt the sting of steel in his neck. He hung in shocked stupor as -his life poured out in a flood of blood that ran down his shoulder.</p> - -<p>Ostby crumbled to the ground. Painfully he clasped his fingers over the -gaping wound but the blood continued to ooze out between his fingers. -All strength and power of movement left him.</p> - -<p>Oddly enough his mind remained clear. There was no fear in him now, and -no pain. The thing that had happened to him seemed the misfortune of -some other person and he viewed it almost dispassionately. There was -only regret that he would never be able to finish his job. And he had -been so close.</p> - -<p>Soon he became aware that someone stood beside him. He looked up with -eyes that still registered clearly everything they saw. The cynical -figure, wiping a short knife on a handful of grass, Ostby knew, was the -man who had assaulted him. There was no emotion in the man. No hate and -no rancor.</p> - -<p>Abruptly another figure stood beside the assassin. With a shock Ostby -recognized Rinda. For a second hope flickered as he noted the anguish -on her face and the tears in her eyes. But the face hardened resolutely.</p> - -<p>"I want you to know I had it done," the Duchess said. She drew back her -foot and kicked him. Then she was gone.</p> - -<p>So it had been she, Ostby reflected. Ironic justice. The one diversion -he had allowed himself had been his undoing.</p> - -<p>The assassin still stood at his side, Ostby noted. Was the ghoul -waiting to enjoy the finish, he wondered. Then his mind, which even -in this extremity refused to accept its fate, conceived the shred of a -plan. He strove to speak. At the third attempt he succeeded.</p> - -<p>"How much.... How much did ... she pay you?" he asked.</p> - -<p>"One thousand heds."</p> - -<p>"If you get me ... take me...." Ostby's reasoning was beginning to -leave him. Vision and speech blurred. A fiery ball of pain strained at -the base of his head, as though striving to break out.</p> - -<p>The immediacy of his need helped him focus his vision once more on the -face above him. He gasped, "Take me to Siggen. He will pay you two -thousand if you get me there alive."</p> - -<p>Ostby felt himself being lifted carefully off the ground.</p> - -<p>The ball of fire in his head burst and he fell through darkness. He -fell until he struck the bottom of a black pit, went through and fell -some more. Consciousness left him.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>For six days Death sat on the wooden prop at the foot of Ostby's bed -and grinned at the thing that clung so tenaciously to life. The spark -within its destitute body flickered feebly those days and the nearest -Ostby came to lucidity was when he sat up in bed and cursed the -grinning spectre.</p> - -<p>Each time fat but gentle hands eased him back and murmured to him until -he returned to sleep.</p> - -<p>By the sixth day Death's grin became strained. Why would the creature -not die? All the vitality had been drained from the husk, yet the thing -within—the thing called Will—would not surrender its life. Each -minute it forced the body to breathe once more. And the next minute -it breathed again. The minutes stretched into days, and the days to a -week; and the seventh day, when Ostby opened his eyes, Death was gone. -He had won the hardest battle of his life.</p> - -<p>Death's frost still lay along his nerves during the next two weeks. -Ostby realized how far he had been along the road to dying by the -reluctance with which his strength returned. This was the first time -in his life he could remember having been weak, so weak that the last -frayed ends of his vitality lay naked. And with this weakness came a -kind of humbleness. He lay quietly in the placid embrace of the apathy -which the humbleness brought.</p> - -<p>"I wish I knew some way to thank you," he said to Siggen.</p> - -<p>"Don't try," Siggen urged. "If I'd ever had a son," he added, "I would -have liked him to be like you."</p> - -<p>An hour later Siggen said, "I'll do what you ask, but only on one -condition: that you wait until you are stronger before you move."</p> - -<p>Ostby considered. "I'll give myself two more days," he said. "By that -time you should have everything ready."</p> - -<p>Reluctantly Siggen agreed.</p> - -<p>The sun had not yet risen, but its light was creeping into the sky -as Siggen and Ostby stood huddled in a cold doorway across from the -palace. All around them Ostby's discerning eye caught signs of life. -But the signs did not disturb him. They were Siggen's men, and they -were here at his request.</p> - -<p>Suddenly a small splash of sound came from within the palace. A few -minutes later two men, dressed in the uniform of the Imperator's guard, -emerged. They were followed by four more. And during the next half-hour -almost a hundred came from the palace. Some of them carried their -belongings in their arms, and all of them were in a hurry.</p> - -<p>"Something unusual is happening in there," Siggen said.</p> - -<p>"Whatever it is, it suits our plans," Ostby said. "There can't be many -guards left inside. Your men should have little trouble overpowering -the remainder."</p> - -<p>"I don't like it," Siggen said. "But every fear grows worse by not -being looked at. Shall we go in?"</p> - -<p>"Soon," Ostby answered. "Take me to the water-duct first."</p> - -<p>"It's just around the corner," Siggen replied. "Come on."</p> - -<p>They turned the corner of the building and Siggen paced off eight -steps. "It should be right here," he said. He kicked in the dust until -his foot struck a loose brick. "Right," he grunted.</p> - -<p>Siggen bent and lifted the brick from its loose-fitting hole. "I -supervised the job myself to see that it was done right," he said.</p> - -<p>Ostby could hear a faint gurgle of water coming from the hole.</p> - -<p>He rolled back the sleeve of his left arm and probed with his fingers -until he found the spot he sought. "Cut here," he said.</p> - -<p>Siggen shook his head disapprovingly but did as he was told. Blood -crept out around the knife blade as it did its work. Ostby said nothing.</p> - -<p>When Siggen had extracted the capsule, he handed it to Ostby.</p> - -<p>Ostby knelt on one knee and broke the capsule, holding it carefully -over the hole in the street. He counted the drops that fell.</p> - -<p>"Six," he said. "And one more." He shook the broken halves, and dropped -them into the water flowing beneath the hole. "That should do it," he -commented, with satisfaction. "One drop will effectively impregnate two -hundred fifty thousand gallons of water."</p> - -<p>"I wish I knew what you were trying to do," Siggen said, "but I suppose -that you'll tell me in your own good time. Do I send my men in yet?"</p> - -<p>"Yes, we'd better start. They know that they're to take over the entire -first floor and to hold it against all comers?"</p> - -<p>Siggen nodded and lifted his hand in a prearranged signal. The shadows -about the buildings gave up their skulkers, and figures slipped out -from every doorway and hiding place and entered the palace.</p> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<p>Ten minutes passed and not a sound came from within.</p> - -<p>"It's too quiet," Siggen said. "I don't like it."</p> - -<p>"We'll go in now," Ostby said.</p> - -<p>Once in the palace Siggen called over one of his men. "Anything doing?" -he asked.</p> - -<p>"Nothing," the man replied. "The whole place seems deserted."</p> - -<p>"What do we do now?" Siggen asked, turning to Ostby.</p> - -<p>"We'll go upstairs. Magogar should be there."</p> - -<p>"Will I bring along some of the men?"</p> - -<p>"No," Ostby said. "I have a feeling that we won't need them."</p> - -<p>Siggen and Ostby went slowly up the stairway. When they reached the -room that housed the Brain, Ostby entered first.</p> - -<p>"You timed it very well," a hollow voice greeted him, but it failed -to catch Ostby's entire attention for he was looking down at a figure -lying on the floor.</p> - -<p>The figure was that of the Imperator, with a knife buried in his breast!</p> - -<p>"Yes, he's dead," the hollow voice said, "and you killed him."</p> - -<p>"I?" Ostby brought his attention up to the huge eye that gazed at him -unwinking.</p> - -<p>"You," the Brain answered. "Technically it's suicide. But when you -defeated him in a test of strength, you killed him as surely as though -you plunged the knife into his heart!"</p> - -<p>"Then my work may be finished," Ostby said. He looked at the Brain with -a question in his gaze.</p> - -<p>"Yes," the Brain answered his unspoken question. "It is done. You were -wise in deducing that I must use water to function, and thus would be -exposed to the potion you placed in the palace water-duct. I'll never -be able to open the 'door' again."</p> - -<p>"I'm happy to hear that," Ostby said, letting his shoulders ease down. -Only with the release did he realize the weight of the burden he -had been carrying all these past months. "I hope it didn't harm you -otherwise," he said.</p> - -<p>"Not at all," the Brain answered. "You merely changed the pitch of a -subtle brain resonance necessary for the opening of the 'door.' It is -analogous to a growing boy's loss of the ability to sing tenor. His -vocal cords are in no way injured when they grow too coarse to attain a -certain pitch. But...."</p> - -<p>The Brain paused. "What now?"</p> - -<p>"How do you mean?" Ostby asked.</p> - -<p>"You know that you will never be able to return to Earth after this. -And, as you are the nominal successor to Magogar, I presume you will -take over the city's government?"</p> - -<p>"You're wrong," Ostby replied unhesitatingly. "I have no slightest -desire to be Imperator."</p> - -<p>"If you don't there will be chaos in the city."</p> - -<p>"You told me once that the people would be happier if they returned to -their pastoral way of life. So now let them."</p> - -<p>"That's correct," the Brain replied. "But if you leave the city without -a government it will collapse in a bath of blood. It would be much -better if you allowed the disintegration to occur gradually under your -control. Furthermore, here is a thought which may not have entered -your mind. There are thousands of Earth people in the city. If given -the opportunity they could be quite happy here. They would be the -technicians and tradesmen. In time they, and their descendants would -be assimilated into the population, perhaps giving it many of their -better traits. Would you give that up and expose them to death under -the anarchy you would leave?"</p> - -<p>"No," Ostby said. "But I have a different plan. One in which you play -an integral part. Would you be willing to give Siggen the cooperation -he'd need if he took over as Imperator?"</p> - -<p>For the first time Ostby saw Siggen show surprise. His eyes widened at -the first realization of what Ostby had proposed, but he said nothing -and his features settled back into their usual placid tranquillity. -Only in his eyes did Ostby see how greatly he was pleased.</p> - -<p>"You think, perhaps, that you surprise me," the Brain answered. "But I, -too, have given Siggen thought since Magogar took his life. Siggen is -the head of the element most likely to get out of hand, and he would -be best able to control them. The so-called aristocracy may not like -the choice but they have very little actual strength. As for the guards -and police, with my, and your, sanction, I am certain that they will -be happy to return to their former posts. And finally, Siggen is an -able administrator. You may not like this, but he will make a better -Imperator than yourself."</p> - -<p>"Then it's settled," Ostby said. He turned to Siggen and held out his -hand. "My friend, Siggen—Imperator—I leave the city in your capable -hands. For the present, I bid you goodby." He turned and walked from -the room.</p> - -<p>For the first time Siggen spoke. "He is at heart very romantic," he -said to the Brain. "He goes now to renew an affair of courtship with a -certain Duchess, Rinda!"</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BERSERKER ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> - -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/64561-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/64561-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1355ffc..0000000 --- a/old/64561-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/64561-h/images/illus.jpg b/old/64561-h/images/illus.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ad3a42a..0000000 --- a/old/64561-h/images/illus.jpg +++ /dev/null |
