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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68425 ***
+
+                        The Power and the Glory
+
+                           By HENRY KUTTNER
+
+           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
+               Thrilling Wonder Stories, December 1947.
+         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
+         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I
+                            _Transmutation_
+
+
+Carrying the coffee-pot, the Belgian shuffled out of the room. The door
+thumped behind him. Miller met Slade’s inquiring stare and shrugged.
+
+“So he’s crazy,” Miller said.
+
+Slade drew down the corners of his thin mouth. “Maybe he is. But I’ve
+got other sources of information, remember. I’m sure
+there’s—something—up on Peak Seven Hundred. Something plenty valuable.
+You’re going to find it for me.” His teeth clicked on the last word.
+
+“Am I?” Miller said sourly.
+
+“Suit yourself. Anytime you feel like it you can go back to the States.”
+There was a threat in the way he said it.
+
+Miller said, “Sure. And then you send a few telegrams . . . It was a
+sweet little frame you fixed up on me. A murder rap—”
+
+“Well,” Slade interrupted, “_that_ happened to be a frame. I’ve got to
+protect myself, though, in case you ever want to turn State’s evidence.”
+
+“I’ve done your dirty work for ten years,” Miller growled. “It’s too
+late now to try crossing you up. But we’re both guilty of one particular
+murder, Slade. A guy named Miller who was an honest lawyer, ten years
+ago. I feel sorry for the poor sucker.”
+
+Slade’s strong, implacable face turned away from him.
+
+“The man with the gun has the advantage. Up on Peak Seven Hundred
+there’s the biggest gun in the world—I think. Something’s sending out
+terrific power-radiations. I’m no scientist, but I’ve got men working
+for me who are. If I can get that—weapon—from the Peak, I can write my
+own ticket.”
+
+Miller looked at him curiously. He had to admit Slade’s strength, his
+powerful will. Head of a slightly criminal and completely unscrupulous
+political empire for a decade now, Slade was growing restive, reaching
+out for new worlds to conquer.
+
+Word of this power-source on the peak in Alaska had sounded fantastic
+even back in the States but it seemed to fascinate Slade, who could
+afford to indulge his whims. And he could afford to trust Miller—to a
+certain extent. Miller was in Slade’s hands and knew it.
+
+They both looked up as the Belgian came back into the room, carrying a
+fresh bottle of whiskey. Van Hornung was drunk and well aware of his own
+drunkenness. He peered at them from under the huge fur cap he wore even
+indoors.
+
+“_Could man be drunk forever with liquor, love and fights_—” he
+murmured, hooking out a chair with his foot. “Ah well, it doesn’t matter
+now. Have another drink, gentlemen.”
+
+Miller glanced at Slade, then leaned forward across the table.
+
+“About Peak Seven Hundred, now,” he said. “I wish you’d—”
+
+The Belgian slapped a fat hand on the table. “You ask me about Seven
+Hundred. Very well, then—listen. I would not tell you before—I did not
+wish you to die. Now I am drunker and, I think, wiser. It does not
+matter whether a man lives or dies.
+
+“For twenty years I have been neither alive nor dead. I have not thought
+nor felt emotion nor lived like a man. I have eaten and drunk and tried
+to forget. If you wish to go to the Peak I’ll tell you the way. It’s all
+quite futile, you see.”
+
+He drank. Miller and Slade exchanged glances in silence.
+
+“If you go,” Van Hornung said, “you will leave your soul behind you—as
+I did. We are not the dominant race, you see. We try to achieve the
+summits but we forget that there may already be dwellers on the peaks.
+Oh yes, I will tell you the way to the Peak if you like. But if you live
+you will not care about anything any more.”
+
+Miller glanced again at Slade, who gestured impatiently.
+
+“I’ll take a chance on that,” Miller said to the Belgian. “Tell me the
+way.”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+In the dim twilight of the arctic noon Miller followed his Innuit guides
+up the snowy foothills toward Seven Hundred. For many days they had
+traveled, deeper and deeper into this dry, sub-zero silence, muffled in
+snow. The guides were nervous. They knew their arctic gods, animistic,
+watchful, resented intrusion into sacred areas like Peak Seven Hundred.
+In their fur-hooded Esquimaux faces oriental eyes watched Miller
+mistrustfully.
+
+He was carrying his gun now. Two of the Innuits had deserted already, in
+the depths of the long nights. These two remained and hated him, and
+went on only because their fear of his gun was greater—so far—than
+their fear of the gods on Seven Hundred.
+
+The Peak lifted great sheer cliffs almost overhead. There was no visible
+way of scaling it. But the Innuits were hurrying ahead as if they had
+already sighted a clearly marked trail. Miller quickened his steps, a
+vague uneasiness beginning to stir in his mind.
+
+Then the foremost Esquimau dropped to his knees and began to scrabble in
+the snow. Miller shouted, hearing his own voice come back thin and
+hollow from the answering peaks. But when he reached the two, one of
+them looked up over his furclad shoulder and smiled a grim smile. In his
+native tongue he spoke one of the strange compound words that can convey
+a whole sentence.
+
+“_Ariartokasuaromarotit-tog_,” he said. “Thou too wilt soon go quickly
+away.” There was threat and warning and satisfaction in the way he said
+it. His fur mitten patted something in the snow.
+
+Miller bent to look. An iridescent pathway lay there, curving up around
+a boulder and out of sight, rough crystal surfaces that caught the light
+with red and blue shadows. Here in the white, silent world of the high
+peaks it looked very beautiful and strange. Miller knelt and ran a
+gloved hand over it, feeling even through the leather a slight
+tingling. . . .
+
+“Erubescite!” he murmured to himself, and smiled. It meant copper,
+perhaps gold. And it was an old vein. The color spoke of long exposure.
+There was nothing strange about finding a vein of erubescite in the
+mountains—the interpenetrating cubes twinned on an octahedral plane
+were common enough in certain mining regions. Still, the regularity of
+the thing was odd. And that curious tingling. . . .
+
+It looked like a path.
+
+The Innuits were watching him expectantly. Moving with caution, Miller
+stepped forward and set his foot on the path. It was uneven, difficult
+to balance on. He took two or three steps along the iridescent purple
+slope, and then. . . .
+
+And then he was moving smoothly upward, involuntarily, irresistibly.
+There was a strange feeling in his feet and up the long muscles at the
+back of his legs. And the mountain was sliding away below him. Peaks,
+snow-slopes, fur-clad men all slipped quietly off down the mountainside,
+while at Miller’s feet a curving ribbon of iridescence lengthened away.
+
+“I’m dreaming!” was his first thought. And his head spun with the
+strange new motion so that he staggered—and could not fall. That
+tingling up his legs was more than a nervous reaction, it was a
+permeation of the tissues.
+
+“Transmutation!” he thought wildly, and clutched in desperation at the
+slipping fabric of his own reason. “The road’s moving,” he told himself
+as calmly as he could. “I’m fixed to it somehow. Transmutation? Why did
+I think of transmutation? I can’t move my feet or legs—they feel like
+stone—like the substance of the road.”
+
+The changing of one element into another—lead into gold, flesh into
+stone . . . The Innuits had known. Far away he could see the diminishing
+dots that were his guides slide around a curve and vanish. He gestured
+helplessly, finding even his arms growing heavy, as if that strange
+atomic transmutation were spreading higher and higher through his body.
+
+Powerless, one with the sliding path, he surrendered himself without a
+struggle to that mounting glide. Something stronger than himself had him
+in a grip that seemed purposeful. He could only wait and . . . it was
+growing difficult to think. Perhaps the change was reaching to his brain
+by now. He couldn’t tell.
+
+He only knew that for a timeless period thereafter he did not think any
+more about anything. . . .
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Thin laughter echoed through his mind. A man’s voice said, “But I am
+bored, Tsi. Besides, he won’t be hurt—much. Or if he is, what does it
+matter?”
+
+Miller was floating in a dark void. There was a strangeness about the
+voice he could not analyze. He heard a woman answer and in her tone was
+a curious likeness to the man’s.
+
+“Don’t, Brann,” she said. “You can find other—amusements.”
+
+The high laughter came again. “But he’s still new. It should be
+interesting.”
+
+“Brann, please let him go.”
+
+“Be silent, Tsi. I’m master here. Is he awake yet?”
+
+A pause. “No, not yet. Not for a while yet.”
+
+“I can wait.” The man sighed. “I’ve preparations to make, anyhow. Let’s
+go, Tsi.”
+
+There was a long, long pause. The voices were still.
+
+Miller knew he was floating in nothingness. He tried to move and could
+not. Inertia still gripped his body but his brain was free and
+functioning with a clarity that surprised him. It was almost as if that
+strange transmutation had changed his very brain-tissues to something
+new and marvelous.
+
+“Transmutation,” he thought. “Lead into gold—flesh into stone—that’s
+what I was thinking about when—when I stopped thinking. When that sort
+of change happens, it means the nuclear charge in the atoms of one
+substance or the other has to change too. The tingling when I touched
+the road—was that when it happened?”
+
+But he paused there, knowing there was no answer. For when had a man
+ever before felt the shifting from flesh to crystal take place in his
+own body?
+
+If it had happened that way, then it must have been a force like the
+coulomb forces themselves that welded him into one with the moving
+road—the all but irresistible forces that hold the electrons in their
+orbits and rivet all creation into a whole.
+
+And now—what?
+
+“There are two methods of transmutation,” he told himself clearly, lying
+there in the dark and groping for some answer to the thing that was
+happening to him.
+
+“Rationalize it,” his mind seemed to say, “or you’ll go mad with sheer
+uncertainty. Reason it out from what you know. A chemical element is
+determined by the number of electrons around the nucleus—change that
+and you change the element. But the nucleus, in turn, determines by its
+charge the number of electrons it can control. If the nuclear charge is
+changed, then this—this crystalline state—is permanent.
+
+“But if it isn’t, then that must mean there’s constant bombardment that
+knocks off or adds electrons to whatever touches that road. The change
+wouldn’t be permanent because the original charge of the nucleus remains
+constant. After awhile the extra electrons would be dropped, or others
+captured to restore the balance, and I’d be normal again. That must be
+the way of it,” he told himself, “because Van Hornung came this way. And
+he went back again—normal. Or was he really normal?”
+
+The question echoed without answer in his brain. Miller lay quiet a
+moment longer and then began to try once more to stir his inert body.
+This time, a very little, he felt muscles move. . . .
+
+What seemed a long while later, he found he could open his eyes. Very
+cautiously he looked around.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER II
+                                 _Tsi_
+
+
+He was alone. He lay on something hard and flat. A dome of crystal
+arched overhead, not very high, so that he seemed in effect to lie in a
+box of crystal—a coffin, he thought grimly, and sat up with brittle
+care. His muscles felt as stiff as if the substance of the iridescent
+roadway still permeated his flesh.
+
+The dome seemed to have strange properties, for all he saw through it
+was curiously distorted and colored with such richness it almost hurt
+the eyes to gaze upon what lay beyond.
+
+He saw columns of golden trees upon which leaves moved and glittered in
+constantly changing prisms of light. Something like smoke seemed to
+wreathe slowly among the trees, colored incredibly. Seen through the
+dome about him the color of the smoke was nameless. No man ever saw that
+hue before nor gave a name to it.
+
+The slab on which he sat was the iridescent purple of the road. If it
+had carried him here, he saw no obvious way in which it could have left
+him lying on the crystal coffin. Yet, clearly, this was the end of the
+moving roadway and, clearly too, the forces which had welded him to it
+were gone now.
+
+The unstable atoms created in the grip of that strange force had shaken
+off their abnormality and reverted to their original form. He was
+himself again but stiff, dizzy and not sure whether he had dreamed the
+voices. If he had, it was a nightmare. He shivered a little, remembering
+the thin, inhuman laughter and its promise of dreadful things.
+
+He got up, very cautiously, looking around. As nearly as he could tell
+through the distorting crystal there was no one near him. The coffin
+stood in a grove of the golden trees and, except for the mist and the
+twinkling leaves, nothing moved. He put out a tentative hand to push the
+crystal up.
+
+His hand went through it. There was a tinkling like high music,
+ineffably sweet, and the crystal flew into glittering fragments that
+fell to the ground in a second rain of sound. The beauty of it for a
+moment was almost pain. He had never heard such music before. It was
+almost more beautiful than any human being should be allowed to hear, he
+thought confusedly. There are sensations so keen they can put too great
+a strain upon human nerves.
+
+Then he stood there unprotected by the dome and looked around him at the
+trees and the mist and saw that the dome had made no difference. These
+incredible colors were no distortions—they were real. He took a
+tentative step and found the grass underfoot so soft that even through
+his shoe-soles he could feel its caress.
+
+The very air was exquisitely cool and hushed, like the air of a summer
+dawn, almost liquid in its translucence. Through it the winking of the
+prism-leaves was so lovely to look at that he turned his eyes away,
+unable to endure the sight for more than a moment.
+
+This was hallucination. “I’m still somewhere back there in the snow,” he
+thought. “Delirium—that’s it. I’m imagining this.” But if it were a
+dream, then Van Hornung had known it too, and men do not dream identical
+dreams. The Belgian had warned him.
+
+He shook his shoulders impatiently. Even with all this before him he
+could not quite bring himself to believe Van Hornung’s story. There was
+a quality of dream about this landscape, as if all he saw were not in
+reality what it seemed, as if this grass of ineffable softness were—and
+he knew it was—only crusted snow, as if those cliffs he could glimpse
+among the trees were really the bare crags of Peak Seven Hundred, and
+everything else delirium. He felt uneasily that he was really lying
+somewhere asleep in the snow, and must wake soon, before he froze.
+
+That high, thin laughter rang suddenly through the air. In spite of
+himself Miller felt his heart lurch and he whirled to face the sound
+with a feeling of cold terror congealing him. It was odd how frightening
+the careless voice had been, talking impersonally of its pleasures.
+
+A little group of men and women was coming toward him through the trees.
+He could not guess which of them had laughed the familiar laughter. They
+wore brilliantly colored garments of a subtle cut that hung like a toga
+or a sari, with a wonderful sophistication of line. The colors were
+incredible.
+
+Miller blinked dazedly, trying in vain to find names for those
+shimmering hues that seemed to combine known colors into utterly unknown
+gradations and to draw from the range of colors above and below the
+spectrum as we see it.
+
+A women said, “Oh, he’s awake,” and a man laughed pleasantly and said,
+“Look how surprised he is!” All of them smiled and turned bright, amused
+faces to Miller.
+
+He said something—he never remembered what—and stopped in sheer shock
+at the harsh dissonance of his own voice. It was like an ugly discord
+tearing through smooth, lilting arpeggios of harmony. The faces of the
+others went blank briefly, as though they had concentrated on something
+else to avoid hearing the sound. The woman Miller had first noticed
+lifted her hand.
+
+“Wait,” she said. “Listen to me, for a moment. There is no need to
+speak—_aloud_.” A faint distaste was in her tone. Her . . . tone? That
+could not be right. No voice was ever so sweetly musical, so gently
+harmonious.
+
+Miller looked at her. Her face was a small pale triangle, lovely and
+elfin and strange, with enormous violet eyes and piled masses of hair
+that seemed to flow in winding strands through one another. Each strand
+was of a different pastel hue, dusty green or pale amethyst or the
+yellow of sunshine on a hazy morning. It was so in keeping, somehow,
+that Miller felt no surprise. That bizarre coiffure fitted perfectly
+with the woman’s face.
+
+He opened his mouth again, but the woman—it shocked him a little, and
+he wondered that it did not shock him even more—was suddenly beside
+him. A split-second before she had been ten feet away.
+
+“You have much to learn,” she said. “First, though—remember not to
+speak. It isn’t necessary. Simply frame your thoughts. There’s a little
+trick to it. No—keep your mouth closed. Think. Think your question.”
+
+Her lips had moved slightly, but merely for emphasis. And surely normal
+vocal cords could not have been capable of that unearthly sweetness and
+evenness of tone, with its amazing variations and nuances. Miller
+thought, “Telepathy. It must be telepathy.”
+
+They waited, watching him inquiringly.
+
+The woman said, silently, “Think—_to me_. Frame the thought more
+carefully. The concepts must be rounded, complete. Later you may use
+abstracts but you can’t do that yet. All I can read is a
+cloudiness. . . .”
+
+Miller thought carefully, word by word, “Is this telepathy?”
+
+“Still cloudiness,” she said. “But it’s clearer now. You were never used
+to clear thinking. Yes, it is telepathy.”
+
+“But how can I—where am I? What is this place?”
+
+She smiled at him, and laughter moved through the group. “More slowly.
+Remember, you have just been born.”
+
+“Just—what?”
+
+And thoughts seemed to fly past him like small bright insects, grazing
+the edges of his consciousness. A half-mocking, friendly thought from
+one of the men, a casual comment from another.
+
+_Brann_, Miller thought, remembering. _What about Brann? Where is he?_
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+There was dead silence. He had never felt such stillness before. It was
+of the mind, not physical. But he felt communication, super-sensory,
+rapid and articulate, between the others. Abruptly the rainbow-haired
+woman took his arm, while the others began to drift off through the
+prism-leaves and the golden trees.
+
+She pulled him gently away under the tinkling foliage, through the
+drifts of colored mists. Brushing violet fog before them with her free
+hand, she said, “We would rather not mention Brann here, if we can avoid
+it. To speak of him sometimes—brings him. And Brann is in a dangerous
+mood today.”
+
+Miller looked at her with a frown of concentration. There was so much to
+ask. In that strange mental tongue that was already coming more easily
+to him, he said, “I don’t understand any of this. But I know your voice.
+Or rather, your—I’m not sure what you’d call it.”
+
+“The mental voice, you mean? Yes, you learn to recognize them. It’s easy
+to imitate an audible voice but the mental one can’t be imitated. It’s
+part of the person. So you remember hearing my thoughts before? I
+thought you were asleep.”
+
+“You’re Tsi.”
+
+“Yes,” she said and pushed aside a tinkling screen of the prisms. Before
+them stood a low rampart of light—or water. Four feet high, it ran like
+liquid but it glowed like light. Beyond it was blue sky and a sheer,
+dizzying drop to meadows hundreds of feet below. The whole scene was
+almost blindingly vivid, every lovely detail standing out sharp and
+clear and dazzling.
+
+He said, “I don’t understand. There are legends about people up here,
+but not about—this. This vividness. Who are you? What is this place?”
+
+Tsi smiled at him. There was warmth and compassion in the smile, and she
+said gently, “This is what your race had once, and lost. We’re very old,
+but we’ve kept—” Abruptly she paused, her eyes brightening suddenly
+with a look of terror.
+
+She said. “Hush!” and in the mental command there was a wave of darkness
+and silence that seemed to blanket his mind. For no reason his heart
+began to pound with nervous dread. They stood there motionless for an
+instant, mind locked with mind in a stillness that was more than absence
+of sound—it was absence of thought. But through the silence Miller
+caught just the faintest echo of that thin, tittering laugh he had heard
+before, instinct with cold, merciless amusement.
+
+The prism leaves sang around them with little musical tinklings. From
+the sunlit void stretching far below bird-song rippled now and then with
+a sweetness that was almost painful to hear. Then Tsi’s mind relaxed its
+grip upon Miller’s and she sighed softly.
+
+“It’s all right now. For a moment I thought Brann . . . but no, he’s
+gone again.”
+
+“Who is Brann?” Miller demanded.
+
+“The lord of this castle. A very strange creature—very terrible when
+his whims are thwarted. Brann is—he cares for nothing very much. He
+lives only for pleasure and, because he’s lived so long and exhausted so
+many pleasures, the devices he uses now are not very—well, not very
+pleasant for anyone but Brann. There was a warp in him before his birth,
+you see. He’s not quite—not quite of our breed.”
+
+“He’s from the outside world? Human?” As he said it Miller knew
+certainly that the woman before him was not human, not as he understood
+the term.
+
+But Tsi shook her head. “Oh, no. He was born here. He’s of our breed.
+But not of our norm. A little above in many ways, a little below in
+others. _Your_ race—” there was faint distaste and pity in the thought,
+but she let it die there, unelaborated.
+
+“You can’t understand yet,” she went on. “Don’t try. You see, you
+suffered a change when you came. You aren’t quite as you were before.
+Were you ever able to communicate telepathically?”
+
+“No, of course not. But I don’t feel any different. I—”
+
+“A blind man, given sight, wouldn’t realize it until he opened his eyes.
+And he might be dazzled at first. You’re at a disadvantage. I think it
+would be best for you to get away. Look there, across the valley.”
+
+She lifted an arm to point. Far off across the dazzling meadows hills
+rose, green in the sunlight, shimmering a little in the warm, clear
+light. On the height of the highest a diamond glitter caught the sun.
+
+“My sister,” Tsi said, “has that palace over there. I think Orelle would
+take you in, if only to thwart Brann. You aren’t safe here. Fur your
+sake, it was a pity the port of entry you reached was here in Brann’s
+castle.”
+
+“There have been others, then?” Miller asked. “A man named Van
+Hornung—did he come here?”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+She shook her head, the rainbow hair catching the sunlight. “Not here.
+There are many castles in our land and most of them live at peace within
+and without. But not Brann’s.”
+
+“Then why are you here?” Miller asked bluntly.
+
+She smiled an unhappy smile. “Most of us came because we felt as Brann
+does—we did not care very much any more. We wanted to follow our
+pleasures, being tired of other pursuits after so many thousands of
+years. All except me.”
+
+“Thousands of. . . . What do you mean? Why are you here then?”
+
+Her mouth turned down at the corners in a rueful smile.
+
+“Well—perhaps I too was warped before birth. I can’t leave Brann now.
+He needs me. That doesn’t matter to you. Brann’s dangerous—his heart is
+set on—on experiments that will need you to complete. We won’t talk
+about that.”
+
+Miller said, “I came here for a purpose.”
+
+“I know. I read part of your mind while you lay asleep. You’re hunting
+for a treasure. We have it. Or perhaps I should say Orelle has it.” The
+violet eyes darkened. She hesitated.
+
+“Perhaps I’m sending you to Orelle for a purpose,” she said. “You can do
+me a great service there—and yourself too. That treasure you seek
+is—should be partly mine. You think of it as a power-source. To me it’s
+a doorway into something better than any of us knows. . . .
+
+“Our father made it, long ago. Orelle has it now, though by rights she
+and I should share it. If you find a way to get that treasure, my
+friend, will you bring it to me?”
+
+Long-grooved habit-patterns in Miller’s mind made him say automatically,
+“And if I do?”
+
+She smiled. “If you don’t,” she said, “Brann will have you sooner or
+later. If I can get it I think I can—control Brann. If I can’t—well,
+you will be the first sufferer. I think you know that. You’ll do well to
+persuade Orelle if you can. Now—I’ve made a bargain with Brann. Don’t
+ask me what. You may learn, later.
+
+“Go to Orelle, watch your chance and be wary. If you ask for the
+treasure you’ll never get near it. Better not to speak of it but wait
+and watch. No one can read your mind unless you will it, now that you’re
+learning telepathy, but watch too that you let nothing slip from your
+thoughts to warn her.”
+
+“You want me to take her hospitality and then rob her?”
+
+Distress showed in Tsi’s face. “Oh, no! I ask only what’s mine, and even
+that only for long enough to control Brann. Then you may return the
+treasure to Orelle or strike a bargain with her over it. Five minutes
+with that in my hands is all I ask! Now here is something I’ve made for
+you out of your own possession. Hold out your wrist.”
+
+Staring, he obeyed. She unclosed her hand to show him his wristwatch in
+her palm. Smiling, she buckled the strap around his arm. “It isn’t quite
+as it was. I changed it. If you need me concentrate on this and speak to
+me in your mind. I’ll hear.”
+
+There were countless questions still unasked. Miller took a deep breath
+and began to formulate them in his mind. And then—Tsi vanished! The
+earth was gone from underfoot and he spun through golden emptiness,
+dropping, falling. The water-wall hung beneath him. He floated in midair
+a hundred feet above the crag-bordered stream at the cliffs bottom!
+
+Panic struck him. Then Tsi’s reassuring thought said, “You are safe.
+This is teleportation.”
+
+He scarcely heard. An age-old instinctive fear chilled his middle. For a
+million years men have been afraid of falling. He could not now control
+that fear.
+
+Slowly he began to drop. He lost sight of Tsi and the golden trees and
+then of the water-wall.
+
+Under him the stream broadened.
+
+He sank down at an angle—and felt solid ground beneath his feet.
+
+There was silence except for the whispering murmur of the stream.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III
+                      _The World That Couldn’t Be_
+
+
+Miller sat down on a rock and held his head in his hands. His thoughts
+were swimming. Cold, fresh air blew against his cheeks and he raised his
+face to meet that satisfying chill. It seemed to rouse him. He began to
+realize that he had been half asleep during the interview with Tsi, as
+though the mists of his slumber had still blanketed his senses.
+Otherwise he would scarcely have accepted this miraculous business.
+
+Or was there another reason?
+
+He felt a desperate impulse to see Tsi again. She could answer his
+questions, if she would. And she had been the first friendly face he had
+seen in this terribly strange land.
+
+He looked up and willed himself to rise.
+
+Impossible, of course. _My own bootstraps_, he thought, with a wild sort
+of amusement. Were his feet pressing less heavily on the rock beneath
+him?
+
+And then, from above, came a high, thin laughter that was not truly
+audible—Brann!
+
+Even before the mental voice came, that malicious, slow thought sent its
+familiar radiations before it. Something as recognizable as sound or
+color—more so!—fell down the cliff and crept coldly into Miller’s
+brain. He knew that unheard voice.
+
+“You had better not come up,” it said.
+
+Miller stood motionless, waiting. Instinctively he had fallen into the
+fighter’s crouch. But how useless ordinary precautions would be against
+this super-being!
+
+He tried to close his mind.
+
+“Go to Orelle, then,” it said. “I’ve made my bargain with Tsi and I’ll
+keep it. But she’s a fool. She always tries to close her mind to
+unpleasant things. She’ll never really admit we’re at war with her
+sister. As long as she doesn’t name it _war_, she thinks it’s something
+else.”
+
+Again the high laughter.
+
+“Go to Orelle,” Brann said. “I’m winning too easily. Perhaps they can
+use another fighter. Then they may be able to give me more of a battle.
+Though, if I chose, I could crush you with a thought—turn the air
+itself into a weight that would flatten you in an instant. But Orelle
+may think of a use for you. I can’t, except to divert myself with your
+reactions to certain experiments.”
+
+The unheard voice grew carelessly casual.
+
+“Too easy a victory is no victory at all. Go away.”
+
+Anger stirred in Miller at that calm assumption of superiority. Brann
+was thoroughly justified, of course, yet no man likes to be discounted
+utterly. With all his power Miller willed himself to rise, to float
+upward as easily as he had floated down—and this time he was certain
+that his feet lost contact with the earth.
+
+Then a weight like a great stone crushed down on him. Only for an
+instant did that frightful, unbearable pressure continue, while the
+veins swelled on Miller’s forehead and he heard his breath coming in
+deep, rasping gasps as he tried to resist the onslaught.
+
+He went to his knees—down till he lay on his back, prostrate, helpless
+beneath that furious assault of the air itself. A screaming river of
+wind thundered down and the thin bushes in the gorge stirred and small
+landslides began as the air-river rushed in hurricane force from above.
+
+Brann laughed idly again and obviously lost interest. The pressure
+vanished. Sweating, breathing hard, Miller struggled to his feet. He did
+not try teleportation again. For a moment he stared up at the cliff-rim.
+Then he turned and began to walk up the gorge in the direction of
+Orelle’s palace. His mouth was thin and his eyes held an angry glow.
+
+So Brann was winning too easily. Well—perhaps something could be done
+about that!
+
+Far off across the glimmering valley a green hillside rolled high
+against the sky. The diamond twinkle that was the castle he must reach
+grew larger as he walked—grew larger with abnormal speed. Miller looked
+down and was surprised to find that measured by the pebbles and the
+flowers underfoot he was taking increasingly long steps.
+
+_Seven-league boots_, he thought, as he found himself striding like a
+giant through the softness of the grass. The earth slid by beneath his
+feet with dream-like fluidity. Now the diamond glitter of Orelle’s
+palace was dividing into hundreds of tinier glitters and he saw the
+walls of pale-colored glass rising fantastically upon the green height
+of the grass-clad mountain. A palace of glass—or ice.
+
+“Ice,” he thought suddenly. “Ice and snow and rocks. That’s all there is
+here. This is a dream. There’s no such world—there couldn’t be.”
+
+And then reason, stirring in his mind, argued, “Why not? How do we know
+the limits of possibility? Out of the few simple building blocks of the
+universe—out of neutrons, protons, electrons—everything we know is
+made. How much else may there be we can’t even perceive—unless
+transmutation takes place and the structure of a man’s nuclear patterns
+change to let him see. . . .
+
+“After all, you aren’t the first. There was Van Hornung and who knows
+how many before him? There was Tannhauser in the magical mountain of
+Venusburg—there was Thomas the Rhymer under the hill in fairyland.
+Paradise itself sounds like a distorted tale of just such a land as
+this. Legend remembers. You aren’t in any new world. You’re only
+exploring a very old one, and—”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Without warning the world dropped away under his feet and all logical
+progression of thoughts ceased abruptly. The sky was beneath him now and
+the shining world whirling dizzily over and over around him. But
+something firmer than gravity clasped him close so that there was no
+vertigo, even though the earth had forsaken him. Green translucence
+cradled him. There was a sensation of great speed, and then—
+
+Glass walls flashed past, spun, righted themselves gently. A solid
+pavement fitted itself against his soles and leveled off to the
+horizontal. He stood in a small, high room whose walls were row upon row
+of lenses, like bull’s-eye panes, all looking down upon him with—eyes?
+Black mechanical pupils that moved whenever he moved, following him as
+he walked toward the nearest wall. For an instant he felt stripped and
+naked under that multiple scrutiny.
+
+Then a telepathic voice said, “You come from Brann.”
+
+Miller looked around wildly. He was alone. Almost automatically he said,
+“No!” aloud, so that the air shivered to the harsh sound. He wasn’t sure
+why he denied it. Brann had spoken of war.
+
+“Don’t lie,” the voice said coldly. “I can see the dust of Brann’s
+mountain on you. Do you think we can’t identify a simple thing like dust
+from a given mountain? It streams off you like purple light in the
+fluorescents. You come from Brann. Are you a spy?”
+
+“Tsi sent me,” Miller said. “Take me to Orelle.”
+
+“Orelle speaks,” the telepathic voice told him without emotion. “My
+sister loves me—but Tsi is no woman to trust. No one on Brann’s
+mountain is worth trusting or he wouldn’t be with Brann at all. What Tsi
+finds distasteful she denies existence. What do you want here?”
+
+Miller hesitated, glancing around the walls at the impassive, watching
+eyes of the—machines? Power, he wanted to say. Give me that
+power-source and I’ll go. But he was silent, remembering Tsi’s warning.
+
+How much of it he could believe he didn’t know now but it was second
+nature for him to keep his own counsel until he was sure enough to act.
+Orelle could not read his mind. Tsi had confessed that would be
+impossible once he began to master telepathic communication. He would be
+safe enough as long as he could give the right answers.
+
+“I’m from the outside,” he offered hesitantly, thinking that hesitation
+and uncertainty might be his best defense until he learned more about
+this place. Exaggerate them, play up even more than was really genuine
+his bewilderment and confusion. “I—Tsi said you’d help me get oriented
+here.”
+
+The disembodied voice was silent for a brief, considering moment. Then
+it said, “I think you lie. However—are you willing to accept our
+search? Only after you’ve been proved weaponless can we admit you here.”
+
+What could he say but yes? For an instant he remembered the watch Tsi
+had strapped to his wrist and what she had said of it. But it was for
+communication only—she had said—and surely she knew that a routine
+search would probably be made. She wouldn’t have branded him with
+something that would give him away to the first inspection. Or would
+she? What he had heard of Tsi did little to increase his confidence in
+her. Still . . .
+
+“Search if you like,” he said.
+
+The room went dark. Miller, blinking in the sudden blindness, felt
+something like the vertigo he had not suffered in flight seize him
+relentlessly now he was on solid flooring. The air spun around him in a
+shrill diminishing vortex and it seemed to him limitless gulfs were
+opening underfoot and sucking him down, tight, tight, into a crushing
+spiral of darkness. . . .
+
+Out of the dark lights suddenly sprang into being, cold, blue lights
+that struck him like cold water—struck and penetrated. Looking down, he
+was aghast to see his own blood coursing red through transparent veins,
+to see his bones stand out cleanly white in their lacings of muscle,
+moving startlingly when he bent to stare.
+
+The lights went out again. The darkness ceased to whirl. And then for
+one instant he felt all through his body an indescribable shifting, a
+terrible motion of inconceivable multiplicity. And in that flash of the
+instant he was _changed_.
+
+The atoms went back into their normal pattern. That unstable isotope
+which was himself shed its changed form and he was as he had always
+been, solid, human, normal.
+
+It was a hideous feeling. Until that moment he had not realized how much
+he had changed already, what nascent, nameless senses had begun to open
+up in him, pushing back horizons upon glories beyond glories. It was
+like deafness and blindness suddenly closing in about a normal man. It
+was worse—it was like having all the properties of death itself imposed
+upon the living. Miller held his breath, closed his eyes.
+
+He felt the shift again as the isotope form renewed itself within him.
+The shifting stirred in the unthinkable myriads of the nuclei that
+formed him. He was whole again.
+
+Once more the vortex whirled and roared in darkness. Then the dark
+lifted and he was standing beside a bank of thick yellow flowers under
+an arched vault of glass. The floor was tiled in brilliant colors,
+resilient to the foot. The flowery bank rising from it might be real
+earth and flowers or it might be a skillful imitation. For it was also a
+divan.
+
+Orelle lay upon it, smiling at him. He knew it was Orelle. He was aware,
+though he could not have explained how, of the telepathic emanation from
+her mind to his, individual as the pattern of the brain. She was
+beautiful—as everyone in this world seemed beautiful.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+He saw something of Tsi’s features in hers but she was not dressed with
+the extravagance her sister affected. She was very slender, and her
+graceful body was sheathed tightly in something like clear satin that
+covered her to the wrists and ankles and flowed in long smooth lines
+over the flowers she lay on. She was pulling them idly and twirling the
+blossoms between her fingers.
+
+“Well, you are welcome,” she said, almost reluctantly, eyeing Miller
+with a smile that had wryness in it. “We found no weapons, though we
+searched you down to the very structure of the protons. To tell you the
+truth, we have no reason to trust you.
+
+“But Tsi must have had some reason for sending you here and I think
+we’re safer coping with her schemes at first hand than goading her on to
+try something more subtle still. Be sure you’re watched, my friend. Be
+careful what you do.”
+
+Miller said wryly, “I’m not likely to do anything. From what I’ve seen
+of this place, I feel helpless. Do you all have the same powers as Tsi?
+How many of you are there? And what—”
+
+Orelle shrugged. “We’re not used to hurry. Of course we have all the
+time we need. Your race doesn’t—even here. I can see your curiosity.
+And I’ll satisfy it, too. Yes, everyone here has the same powers, though
+naturally some are stronger than others. There is the telepathic factor,
+and—other things.”
+
+“Bred into your race? But what about me? I’m not your kind.”
+
+She said slowly, “A million years ago your ancestors were, though. Since
+then your people have gone down. It took eons to reach the peak when
+Atlantis and Mu were great cultures, and it will take eons more for your
+race to regain what they have lost. Only here, on this secret mountain,
+have we retained the strength of the old civilizations.”
+
+Miller said. “But what happened?”
+
+“Oh, the usual thing. Men took weapons they weren’t ready to use. In
+that time—try to understand this—the atomic structure of the world
+itself was different. You know that? That the atom can change—”
+
+“I do indeed,” Miller told her grimly. “If electrons change, or if the
+nucleus changes, the structure changes too.”
+
+She said, “Well, that was what happened. All earth is dull and dead now.
+Only here does the old special type of matter still exist. It throws off
+a certain radiation that makes it possible for us to be born and live as
+we are. In Atlantis there was experiment with nuclear structures, and
+transmutation.”
+
+“We have atomic power now,” Miller said.
+
+“The beginnings of it. You’re merely beginning. It will be a long, long
+time before you stand where Atlantis once stood. First you must change
+the very structure of your world! Only then will _you_ change, will the
+radiation-caused mutation alter you and give you the powers and senses
+you lost when a world went to war a millennium ago.
+
+“The fires of matter itself moved across the planet, and where it
+passed, structure altered and what was bright and shining and glorious
+became a dull, empty thing. Men lost their specialized, hard-won powers
+then. But the seeds remain latent in their bodies, recessive
+characteristics. Here, on the mountain, the recessive can become
+dominant for a little while. It is unstable, of course. . . .”
+
+“Then—I’m like you? Tsi told me but I couldn’t believe it. I’m a—a
+sort of superman?”
+
+“Every gift has its price,” she said oddly. “There is beauty here but
+there is terror too. You must have noticed that you see with clearer
+eyes—the eyes of the mind.”
+
+“Yes,” he said. “I’ve noticed that. Things are—shining, somehow.”
+
+“It would be well if you remembered your own world,” Orelle said, after
+a little pause. Her eyes were troubled. “Your own atomic structure has
+altered but that can take place only once.”
+
+A man came into view through a glassy wall that melted at his approach,
+and solidified again behind him. He looked no older than Orelle, a
+firm-fleshed, smiling man whose vari-tinted hair lay smoothly across his
+scalp. But his eyes were old, grey and cloudy with the mists of
+incalculable centuries.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IV
+                               _The Bomb_
+
+
+“Orelle—” he began. And then the aeon-misted eyes fell upon Miller, and
+a look of bewildered recognition seemed to grow in them. “This man,” he
+said uncertainly. “Should I know him, Orelle? Has he been here before,
+or. . . .” Suddenly the mists cleared from his eyes and he looked old no
+longer but resolute and certain.
+
+“I know him!” he said in a crisp voice. “His face was in the Time Pool.
+It meant danger. But the likelihood was so remote that—well, I
+dismissed it. I didn’t believe.”
+
+“What was the danger?” Orelle leaned forward anxiously, her satin skirts
+moving with a gentle rustle over the flowery bank where she sat.
+
+The man shook his head. “You’ve seen the Time Pool, child. There are so
+many possibilities of the future—who can say in what ripple this man’s
+face floated for a moment before the bubble burst? But it was danger. I
+remember that.”
+
+They turned in one motion and looked at Miller with wise, wary,
+thoughtful eyes, astonishingly alike in the two faces. He realized they
+must be closely akin, and both akin to Tsi, whom no one trusted far.
+
+He said quickly, “If you can read the future you must know I’m not a man
+to break my promises—and I swear to you both I mean no harm.”
+
+The man made an impatient gesture. “The future is never that clear.
+There is no ‘must’ in time—only ‘perhaps’.”
+
+“Tsi sent him,” Orelle said. “She must have had her reasons.”
+
+“She sent me because of Brann,” Miller declared. The two nodded.
+
+Orelle said, “Well, sometimes she’s moved to save one of Brann’s
+victims. Sometimes I think she helps him in his—call them
+experiments—on those he captures. She’d like us to think only whims
+move her. But we know the thing that lies behind all she does. Llesi and
+I—we know.” She smiled grimly at the man beside her.
+
+“She wants the Power,” the man called Llesi said.
+
+Miller thought to himself, “So do I,” but aloud he said only, “The
+Power?” in a voice of innocent inquiry.
+
+Llesi nodded, his eyes fixed speculatively upon Miller as if he gazed
+through the mists of incalculable years.
+
+“A toy my brother and I once made that became far more than a toy before
+we were finished. Now Tsi claims her share in her father’s treasure.
+These two are my brother’s children but sometimes I think Tsi has no
+blood of mine in her veins.”
+
+Orelle said, “No, Llesi, she’s only weak. If Brann didn’t rule her so
+completely—”
+
+“She’d be welcome to her heritage. But we know that to give her what she
+asks is to give it straight into Brann’s hands. And there’d be an end to
+this castle and all who live here.”
+
+“Who is Brann?” Miller asked impatiently. “I’ve heard so much about him,
+I’ve even heard him speak. But I’ve never seen him. What does he look
+like?”
+
+Orelle shook her head. Small bells she wore in her ears tinkled at the
+motion, and even the tiny sounds they made were vividly beautiful to
+Miller’s increasingly keen new senses.
+
+She said, “No one has seen him except Tsi. No one but she can tell you
+what he is. He receives his friends only in the dark or from behind
+curtains. Ever since he built that castle, centuries ago, he’s kept his
+secret hidden—whatever it may be. I should like to see him dead.”
+
+She said it without passion. “Brann is true evil, perhaps pure evil in
+its most flawless form. He’s very wise and very powerful. I’m not sure
+why he chose us for his enemy but I only know now we must fight or be
+killed.”
+
+Miller made up his mind suddenly. “As I left his castle,” he said,
+“Brann spoke to me from beyond the wall. He said this was a fight he
+would win too easily. He told me to come to you as another fighter, to
+make the battle more interesting.”
+
+Orelle leaned forward quickly on the flowery bank, her earrings tinkling
+musically. “He said that? You know, I’d have guessed the opposite.
+
+“I’d have said Tsi sent you here knowing Brann would covet you for his
+experiments—knowing that with you here, he’d redouble his efforts to
+conquer us and drag you back. If his interest were flagging, that might
+be the best way to revive it against us and force her entry here.
+Because she’d do anything in the world to get her hands on the Power.”
+
+Llesi interrupted her in a thoughtful voice. “She might send an envoy
+here armed with some secret weapon Brann could devise—something that
+could pass even our careful searching. Remember, Orelle, I’ve seen this
+man before in the Time Pool—this man’s face, and danger!”
+
+“I’ve given you my word I didn’t come to harm you,” Miller said,
+realizing that though he sailed close to the wind of truth in saying
+that, at least it was accurate as far as it went. “Still, I’d like to
+know more about this Power. Unless you—”
+
+He never finished. For suddenly there was a blast of appalling sound in
+the room, and a rush of white-hot fire that seemed to flow down his arm
+and burst in a blinding gush from his wrist.
+
+When he could see again, what he saw was stunning. For Llesi was
+collapsing where he stood, his knees buckling, his face strangely
+drained and empty as if he were dead before he struck the floor. There
+was a curious shimmering glow bathing him, sinking inward like a
+devouring acid.
+
+Orelle was on her feet, stumbling forward, and from all around figures
+were closing in through the glass that melted at their approach.
+
+Blinded and deafened by a sound that he knew was not truly audible,
+Miller tried to spring back.
+
+He could not move. The white dazzling flame still poured from him upon
+the falling Llesi. Louder and louder that unheard, cataclysmic shout
+roared through the room. Now Miller felt energy of some strange sort
+pouring from Orelle and the others—mental power, a silent, tremendous
+flood that beat upon the white flame and—snuffed it like a candle.
+
+The fire was gone. But Llesi had fallen.
+
+A dozen men and women had crowded into the room by now, bright in their
+sleek rainbow garments. Two men fell to their knees beside Llesi.
+
+Orelle had swung toward Miller. Hot rage blazed tangibly from
+her—tangibly, for Miller’s mind winced beneath that telepathic red
+fury. Through the scarlet twisted a black thread—the thought and
+intention of death, cold black against crimson.
+
+“Orelle!” he cried desperately. “I didn’t—it was some trick!”
+
+He could not speak, even telepathically. For he could see nothing now
+but Orelle’s dark eyes, and they were expanding, growing into luminous
+pools that chilled him, and effectively paralyzed muscle and nerve and
+mind.
+
+Eerily a thought that was not his own moved suddenly in his frozen
+brain—moved and reached out toward Orelle.
+
+“_Wait, child, wait!_” the thought said. “_This is Llesi speaking._”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+All must have heard it, for every head in the room turned sharply. The
+blinding pools that were Orelle’s eyes began to fade and dimly Miller
+could see again. In his mind that voice of another brain said, “_The
+bracelet on his wrist—take it!_”
+
+No one stood near Miller but he felt a violent tug at his wristwatch,
+saw it torn free. It sprang through the air to Orelle as if thrown by an
+invisible hand. She spread her fingers and received it. But she was
+looking at Miller.
+
+“Llesi?” she said uncertainly, still staring into Miller’s eyes.
+“Llesi—you hear me?”
+
+“_Yes. Wait. I must speak with this man . . . Miller . . . wait._”
+
+Orelle gestured. Llesi’s body was lifted without support and floated
+toward the bowery couch. It sank down gently. One of the men came
+forward and made a quick examination.
+
+“He isn’t dead. It’s stasis, of a sort. But I can’t communicate with
+him. Try it, Orelle.”
+
+“Llesi?” Orelle’s thought arrowed out. “_Llesi?_”
+
+Miller roused from his stupefied amazement. That fantastic voice in his
+brain was speaking quietly to himself alone.
+
+“Don’t fight me. They’ll kill you unless you obey me. Empty your mind,
+Miller. Let me speak through you. Now. . . .”
+
+Miller listened to the thought that was not his, riding on the waves of
+his own telepathic mind, speaking to Orelle and the others. But he
+believed it spoke to himself as well.
+
+“This must be Brann’s doing,” Llesi said. “The bracelet—when I guessed
+at a weapon the man Miller could have brought Tsi must somehow have been
+listening. Even our tests failed to find it but a weapon that bracelet
+must have been. Well, Brann failed but only thanks to you for smothering
+the weapon so soon. I’m not destroyed but I think it may be a long while
+before I can think or move in my own body.”
+
+“But you can hear us, Llesi?” Orelle’s voice was soft.
+
+“Through this man—yes. This is a telepathic rapport with him. There
+must have been electronic contact at the crucial moment. Without Miller
+I would be cut off completely until my body mends again. I think it will
+in time. I know the sort of weapon Brann used. My body will have to
+absorb vital energy, to overcome the insulation of atomic stasis the
+weapon threw about me.
+
+“Now listen, because my strength is going. The mental must draw on the
+physical and my body’s an ember now. I must sleep and gather power.
+Brann will know what’s happened here—depend on it, he’ll strike while
+I’m still helpless. I must think—and rest.”
+
+Orelle said, “We can handle Brann!”
+
+“We can handle him if I can lead you. Otherwise. . . Take no risks.
+Remember, my only contact with you is through this man Miller. Brann
+will destroy him if he can. But the sword is two-edged. Through Miller I
+can fight if I must. Now let me rest. I must gather my strength, and
+think.”
+
+The thought trembled on the air—faded—and was gone into an enormous
+stillness. Miller was alone again in his own brain.
+
+Orelle stared at him, anger still bright in her mind but leashed anger
+now.
+
+“How much of this have you passed on to Brann already?” she demanded.
+
+Miller said, “I swear I didn’t know I was carrying a time-bomb like
+that. Tsi told me it was only a communication device she’d built into my
+watch. I can only say I’ll help you fight Brann in any way I can.”
+
+Orelle came forward with quick steps, her satin robes rustling, and took
+Miller’s shoulders in a tight grip, reaching high with both hands to do
+so. Her eyes were close to his. She stared compellingly up at him and he
+felt the warm force of her mind probing his with angry emphasis.
+
+“Tell me one thing—the truth,” she demanded. “_Are you Brann?_”
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V
+                              _The Signal_
+
+
+The stars were glittering rayed circles of colored fire in the night
+sky. Miller lay staring for what seemed a long while, wondering vaguely
+what had wakened him. The wall before his bed was clear glass through
+which the night sky seemed to look in at him with its countless silver
+eyes. He had never seen the stars before, he knew now.
+
+With his other eyes, they had been only dots of brilliance, without
+pattern. Now he could see that there was indeed a pattern to their
+arrangement—one too vast for even his augmented mind to grasp but
+something he could recognize as being there, even though it lay outside
+the range of human understanding.
+
+He could see colors change and glitter in the discs of light that had
+been only points without dimension to his old sight. He could even make
+out dimly the shapes of continents on one or two of the planets. And
+there was a strange, distant, ringing music, almost inaudible, circling
+through the dark vault above.
+
+He knew now that it was no legend which told of the music of the spheres
+and the stars that sang together. Light-waves and sound-waves blended
+into a melody that was neither one nor the other, neither sight nor
+sound, but a beautiful medley of both.
+
+“Men in the old days must have heard it,” he thought to himself,
+half-asleep. “Maybe in ancient times they were still close enough
+to—_this_ state—to catch the echoes of the old music. . . .”
+
+Deep in the center of his drowsing mind a thought stirred that was not
+his own. “_Miller, Miller, are you awake?_”
+
+He framed the answer with an eerie feeling of double-mindedness. “Yes,
+Llesi. What is it?”
+
+“I want to talk to you. I’ve gathered enough strength now to last me
+awhile. What’s been happening? Are you safe?”
+
+Miller let a ripple of amusement run through his mind. “Thanks to you.
+Can you tell from my thoughts that I didn’t know what I was bringing
+into your castle? I didn’t mean to attack you.”
+
+“I believe that—with reservations. Does Orelle?”
+
+“She thought I was Brann. She may still think so though I hope I’ve
+convinced her.”
+
+“I can’t read your mind. But I must trust you—no more than I can avoid!
+Get up, Miller, and look toward Brann’s castle. I have a feeling of
+danger. I think that was what roused me. Something evil is coming our
+way.”
+
+Conscious of a slight chill at the gravity with which Llesi spoke,
+Miller rose. The floor was ineffably soft to his bare feet. He stepped
+out into the little glass bay that formed one side of the room. From
+there he could look down over the valley he had traversed that day. Far
+off lights glimmered at the height of a sheer cliff—Brann’s castle.
+
+“Why—I can see in the dark!” he exclaimed in surprise, staring out at
+the soft, dim landscape that seemed to be lit by a soil of invisible
+starshine so that details were delicately visible as they had never been
+before.
+
+“Yes, yes,” Llesi’s mental voice said impatiently. “Turn your eyes to
+the left—I want to see that wall of the valley. There—now
+right. . . .”
+
+The commands, couched in mental terms that took only a flashing fraction
+of the time words would have taken were almost like reflex commands from
+Miller’s own brain.
+
+“I think you’d better dress and go down to the Time Pool,” Llesi said at
+last. Miller could feel the profound uneasiness stirring in the
+disembodied mind that his own brain housed. “Hurry. There’s no guessing
+what unnatural thing Brann may have shaped to attack us. He wants you,
+Miller. Your coming brought our war to a climax and I know now he won’t
+stop until he gets you—or dies. It depends on you and me which thing
+happens.”
+
+There was a guard at Miller’s door—or the glass wall that melted like a
+door when he approached it. Llesi’s mental voice spoke and the guard
+nodded and followed down the long sloping ramp of the glass castle,
+through great, dim, echoing rooms, along corridors behind which the
+people of Orelle’s dwelling slept.
+
+They came out at last into a garden in the heart of the castle. Circled
+by glass walls, it lay dim and fragrant around the broad shallow pool in
+its center. Starlight shimmered in changing patterns on the water that
+rippled slightly in the wind.
+
+Miller found himself glancing up toward the wall-top without being sure
+whether the impulse was his own or Llesi’s. In a moment he knew, for
+there was a whispering rush and in obedience to some command from his
+own brain—and from Llesi’s—a domed roof of glass moved across the
+garden, closing it in.
+
+Now the starlight fell in prismed rays through the dome. It struck the
+pool in somehow focused patterns and the water seemed to respond to that
+unimaginably light pressure.
+
+Circles formed where the rays struck, formed and spread outward in
+interlocking rings that seemed to gather momentum instead of losing it,
+so that they were seething together in a very short time, breaking over
+one another in tiny waves, tossing up bubbles and foam. The pool boiled
+in the cool starlight.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+And among the boiling rings there were reflections. Pictures moved
+chaotically through one another, so rapidly and so bewilderingly that
+Miller grew dizzy as he watched. Once he thought he saw Tsi’s face with
+the rainbow hair disordered, streaming in the wind.
+
+Once he had a glimpse of himself, seen confusingly from the back,
+struggling against something that seemed to tower and stoop above him
+but the vision rolled under again before he could focus on it and the
+faces of strangers floated among bubbles to replace it.
+
+“Is it real?” he asked Llesi inaudibly. “Is this the future?”
+
+There was an impatient movement in his own mind. Llesi, who had been
+studying the pictures in the profoundest silence, said,
+“No—yes—partly. These are the likeliest futures. No one understands
+fully, but the theory is that somewhere in hyperspace all possible
+futures work themselves out from any given point.
+
+“And the light-rays—the pictures of all that happens—move on out into
+space endlessly. When the glass dome is closed starlight, falling
+through the moving rays, projects these pictures back into the pool for
+anyone to read who knows how. Men from time everlasting have tried to
+read the future in the stars but you can see from this how difficult it
+is and how unreliable even a trained mind can be when it has only this
+to work from.
+
+“One decision may alter all probable futures. And those are unstable,
+shifting and changing—no man can know the future with any certainty.
+But it’s possible to see dangers, sometimes, and prepare for
+them—though that may mean facing a worse peril later on. Wait—”
+
+In the pool a ripple took form at the impact of a reflection and began
+to spread. It showed the picture of a shifting, cloudy mass moving
+against the translucent water—but moving with a directive purpose,
+Miller thought. The background took form. He saw himself and Orelle in
+miniature with the cloud no longer shifting but swooping purposively
+above them.
+
+Another ripple collided violently with the first and the picture
+vanished in a burst of bubbles. But it took shape again in the next
+moment, though different now, with a shift in background. The ripples
+raced over that image and washed it out with another, like a
+not-quite-identical copy. Then he saw the castle in which he stood and
+it was, he thought, collapsing into ruins.
+
+That changed. He saw himself in tiny reflections, facing Tsi— And then
+a ripple washed across the pool in which he saw his own face and Slade’s
+and there was something inexplicably terrible about both.
+
+Shaken, he asked Llesi a mental question. Llesi answered him briefly.
+
+“If part of what you just saw happens, other parts can’t happen. But you
+saw that cloudy pillar? It appeared too often against too many
+backgrounds to be very far off in space or time. Brann is sending a
+warrior against us. Not a human warrior. I think we can expect the
+cloudy thing we saw quite soon, in one or another of the versions we’ve
+been watching.”
+
+“But what is it?”
+
+“I don’t know. Something dangerous—that much you can be sure of. I
+think we can defeat it, once we discover what it is. So far we’ve always
+been able to defeat Brann’s warriors, no matter what form they had.”
+
+“So far?” Miller asked. “And then someday—what?”
+
+Mentally Llesi shrugged. “Who knows? I, who read the future, realize
+better than most men that I have no way of guessing what is to come. I
+can see the possibilities here in the pool, I can foresee the worst
+dangers and prepare against them—but beyond that I can’t go. No. I
+don’t know what the outcome will be between Brann and me.”
+
+Miller said with abrupt decision, “You’ve looked too long in the Time
+Pool! You’ve been depending on what you see there to tell you what to
+do. Why not take the future into your own hands?”
+
+There was a curious stillness in his brain at that, as if Llesi were
+suddenly wary and watchful. Finally the voice that shared his mind spoke
+cautiously.
+
+“What do you suggest?”
+
+“Someday, if I understand you, Brann may succeed at last in creating a
+kind of warrior you can’t overcome. I saw this castle falling in one of
+those pictures in the pool, so I know it’s possible—no, even probable,
+that this thing he’s sending, or maybe the one after it, will be the one
+to destroy you. It that right?”
+
+Still caution and distrust ruled Llesi’s mind, but there was reluctant
+interest in the mental voice that said, “Go on. What are you thinking
+about?”
+
+“Brann wants one thing—the Power. Is that right?”
+
+“The Power and yourself, now. Yes,” Llesi answered.
+
+“So he’ll keep on attacking until he gets one or both. Why haven’t you
+attacked him first?”
+
+“Do you think we haven’t tried? Brann’s castle is invulnerable. We’ve
+failed and failed and failed again to force any entry by any means we
+know. But Brann’s failed, too, against us. It’s stalemate.”
+
+“It needn’t be. I have an idea.” Miller hesitated. “I won’t tell you
+now. You wouldn’t accept it. Later on, if things go wrong, maybe you’ll
+be willing to listen. Maybe—”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+From across the Time Pool, in the dimness of the garden, Orelle’s mental
+voice said clearly, “Don’t go on, Miller. Or are you really Brann?”
+
+Miller had the curious sensation in his brain that both he and Llesi had
+actually moved in the center of his skull, as he spun toward the dark
+tree where she stood watching.
+
+“How long have you been here, child?” Llesi said.
+
+“Long enough. I saw the cloudy thing coming in the Pool. I know what
+we’ve got to face—but not with treachery to make it even worse than it
+is. Oh, Llesi, won’t you let me kill him?”
+
+“Not yet,” Llesi said with a deadly sort of practicality. “Not yet,
+because you need me in the fight, and I’m helpless without this man. Nor
+am I wholly sure he can’t be trusted, Orelle.”
+
+“I heard what he was trying to suggest. Something treacherous—some way
+to help Brann win at last. Llesi, I’m afraid! This isn’t safe. I—”
+
+A flash of soundless white light without warning illumined the garden
+and the whole castle around it, so that every figure stood out in abrupt
+silhouette against the whiteness. As suddenly as it came, it went out,
+leaving momentary blindness behind it.
+
+Orelle caught her breath and said, “The signal! Llesi—hurry! Whatever
+it is, it must be almost here!”
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER VI
+                               _Invasion_
+
+
+They saw it first far off on the plain, moving toward them through the
+clear darkness. At first it seemed only a mist that drifted with the
+wind but, when the wind shifted, the grey fog came on. Its heart was
+thicker and dimly the eye could glimpse intricate matrices of light far
+inside the cloud, glittering patterns like diamond cobwebs arranged in
+lattice formations.
+
+Miller and Orelle, with Llesi a bodiless awareness beside them, stood at
+a glass wall looking out over the plain toward Brann’s castle.
+
+Llesi breathed softly. “I know that pattern. It’s a bad one. The thing’s
+brain and control and energy-source are in the bright matrix you see.
+Watch now.”
+
+The lattices shifted into new geometric formations and out of the cloud
+rippling, soft grey tentacles thrust, thickening as they moved.
+
+“That would be stronger than iron once it took shape,” Llesi was saying.
+“The pseudopod principle, of course. It will be a hard thing to fight.”
+
+They stood watching in silence while the grey cloud flowed forward with
+increasing speed until it was nearly within reaching distance of the
+castle. Far off, across the valley, the lights of Brann’s walls watched
+like eyes. Miller spoke impatiently.
+
+“Aren’t you going to do anything? Can’t you stop the thing?”
+
+“I could. But I want to see what new ideas Brann has incorporated into
+this. It’s better to know than to guess. If I destroy this he’ll just
+send another. I’m going to let it try the gate.”
+
+The cloud flowed up to the outer wall. . . paused . . . seemed to be
+considering the massive glass barrier before it. Then the lattices
+rearranged, glittering. A finger of greyness reached out, seeped through
+the crack between gate and wall.
+
+Metal groaned in the quiet of the night. That tiny pseudopod was
+expanding with monstrous force. The gate shivered, crumpled—gave way.
+
+Radiant shimmers of color flared down from the walls upon the cloudy
+thing as Llesi’s batteries went into action at last. In his own brain
+Miller could feel Llesi’s tense watchfulness as he waited to see how the
+creature would meet them.
+
+Its lattice-work heart shifted like a kaleidoscope. The clouds
+thickened, grew dark. It shrank—expanded again—and moved on into the
+castle, a wreathed thing of velvety blackness that swallowed up the
+attacking lights and ignored them.
+
+Now they lost sight of it but they could hear, partly through the
+vibrations of the castle walls themselves and partly through the
+confused mental cries of the people below them, the progress the machine
+was making. A transparent wall gave way before it and the crash of the
+collapse sent a terrible, ringing music all through the castle. There
+was the silent voiceless cry of a man caught in its unimaginable grip—a
+cry that shivered up to an unbearable peak in the brains of all who
+heard, and then went silent with a suddenness that made the listeners
+reel.
+
+Orelle seized Miller’s arm in a tight grip. “Come with me,” she said.
+“Hurry!”
+
+She was half-running as she led the way through the dark castle which
+was yet so clearly visible to the sight. The confusing halls were
+strange to him but before they reached their goal Miller was leading the
+way, Llesi in his brain sending out the mental orders that guided him,
+so that the corridors and doors and sloping glass ramps seemed to swing
+around and to fly open before him without the need of knowledge on his
+part.
+
+There was pandemonium below. Miller could feel the tension in Llesi’s
+mind and in Orelle’s as they raced toward the breached wall of their
+fortress. Llesi was unsure.
+
+“Maybe this is the one,” he said, half to himself, as the translucent
+walls spun past. “Maybe this one we can’t fight.”
+
+More than one wall had been breached by the time they reached the scene
+of the fight. The castle was filled with the jangling, musical crashes
+of shattered glass and the cries—some of them vocal cries now—of the
+defenders. But from the attacking machine itself no sound came.
+
+Miller saw it through jagged walls and over the heads of the castle’s
+men—a great coagulated cloud, velvet-soft and iron-hard, the colored
+lights of the defenders’ strange weapons beating upon it in vain. There
+were colors in the weapons such as Miller had never seen.
+
+“Photon showers,” Llesi told him briefly. “Very high-frequency light
+waves with an energy increase great enough to utilize the mass of the
+light. Those latticed patterns would be smashed by the impact—if we
+could reach them.
+
+“When you deal with anything as delicate as this you need a delicate
+weapon. The lattices would be impervious to heavy weapons but the mass
+of light itself could crush the patterns if I had some way to penetrate
+the cloud.”
+
+“The photons should do it,” Orelle said in a worried voice. “Always
+before—”
+
+“Brann has something new this time.”
+
+The cloud rolled on. Through the shattered walls they saw it engulf the
+men in its path, moving like a velvet-soft juggernaut that crushed all
+before it. It pressed its misty surface against another wall—there was
+a surging all through the mass and, briefly, a pattern of clouded lights
+glimmered deep in the smoky bulk.
+
+The castle rang with the jangled music of another falling wall.
+
+“It’s making straight for the Power,” Orelle said, quietly now. “Llesi,
+you’ve got to stop it.”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Miller felt in his own brain Llesi’s rapid, orderly thoughts,
+marshalling the facts and measuring against them his varied resources.
+Then, decisively, he spoke.
+
+“We must get to the Power first. I can stop it but we’ll have to hurry.”
+
+To Miller it seemed as if the castle spun around him again as, in
+obedience to the orders in his brain, he whirled and ran with Orelle at
+his heels. The corridors opened up before them, unfamiliar pathways
+looking strangely familiar to the double vision in his mind. Another
+wall smashed into ringing fragments behind them as they ran.
+
+With his new night-sight Miller could see a long way through the
+translucent walls of the glass castle. Lights had been kindled through
+the building now so that the glimmers, far and near, reflecting beyond
+intervening barriers, made the whole castle glow bewilderingly.
+
+But ahead of them, growing larger as they neared, was one part of the
+building that even this new sight could not penetrate. It was a great
+cube whose walls gave back the vision opaquely, as it loomed before
+them.
+
+Orelle pushed past him as they reached it, spread both hands flat upon
+the dark surface. It parted before her, melting away as the other walls
+melted to admit entry, and she pressed through into the hidden room.
+Miller followed her, his brain spinning with his own curiosity and the
+complicated planning of Llesi who shared it.
+
+Afterward Miller could never remember clearly what he had seen in that
+great dark room. He had only an impression in retrospect of an immense
+number of delicate shining things that might have been instruments—of
+countless rows of containers over which light seemed to ripple and play
+from within the colored holders, like votive lights seen far off down
+the aisle of a cathedral—of things without name or recognizable
+shape. . . .
+
+In the center of the room, hanging in the heart of a filligreed
+framework which it did not seem to touch anywhere, a clear transparent
+cube three feet through floated free. Within it a tilted halo of—of
+stars?—rotated slowly through the solid substance of the block. And
+very faintly, Miller thought he could hear music as it turned, the same
+music he had caught from the night sky, subsonic but still perceptible
+to his new senses.
+
+“The Power,” Orelle said, nodding toward the cube.
+
+Miller went forward slowly until he stood by the delicate framework
+within which the block floated. He could feel a slight pressure
+constantly beating out from the rotating stars, and at the same time a
+slight equal suction—an impossible sort of double force that did not
+equalize itself but kept him in a continual state of muscular
+readjustment to balance the opposite pulls while he stood within its
+range.
+
+He was trying to control the excitement that poured through him at his
+nearness to this unimaginable thing he had come so far to find. Slade
+would give all he had to possess it for, inexplicable as it was, there
+was a harnessed power in the mysterious thing unlike any power at man’s
+disposal in the lower world beyond Peak Seven Hundred.
+
+Then, in his brain, Llesi said impatiently, “Later you can examine it. I
+need you now, if we’re going to stop Brann’s beast. Turn around—go to
+the far wall, reach up to that container of blue light and. . . .”
+
+Miller’s conscious mind ceased to make sense out of the orders Llesi
+gave it but his body was obedient. He did not try to resist. He relaxed
+his own will and allowed Llesi full control, so that he was only dimly
+aware of what his body did in the next few minutes. His hands were busy,
+and there was an intense, quiet activity in his mind.
+
+An activity that gradually began to slow. Lights swelled and sank
+beneath his busy fingers. Heat and cold and other stranger sensations he
+could not name bathed his hands and arms, beat against his intent face
+bent above them. But into his mind slowly a sense of frustration crept.
+
+He made an effort to bring his own mind back into focus and asked Llesi
+a quick mental question.
+
+“I don’t know,” Llesi’s mind replied. “It isn’t easy. I think I can stop
+the thing but at a cost we can scarcely afford. And I could only do it
+once. Brann will know that. He’ll have only to send another just like it
+and—” The thought blanked out as if even in his subconsciousness Llesi
+did not want to shape the end of that idea.
+
+Miller put forth greater effort and shrugged off the inertia of his mind
+which had been necessary while Llesi worked. He was keenly alert now. He
+had a job to do.
+
+“Will you listen to me?” he asked. “I think I’ve got an answer—if
+you’ll trust me.”
+
+Llesi’s reply was wary but there was eagerness in it too. “What do you
+want us to do?”
+
+“Tell me first—can you duplicate this Power source?”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+With a double accord both Llesi and Miller turned to gaze at the
+floating cube with its lazily rotating halo of glittering light.
+
+“I can, yes,” Llesi said. “Why?”
+
+“Easily? Soon?”
+
+“Not in time to stop Brann’s creature, no. It would take several hours.”
+
+“Then,” Miller said, bracing himself for the storm he knew must follow
+his suggestion, “then I think you’ll have to let the thing downstairs
+take your Power and carry it back to Brann.”
+
+There was a mental explosion of fury and refusal.
+
+After it had died down, while Orelle still gazed at him with burning
+dark eyes full of distrust and hatred, and Llesi still smouldered angry
+thoughts in his brain, Miller went on.
+
+“I know—I know. In your place I’d feel the same. But look at it
+dispassionately if you can. Brann has you where he wants you now. You
+can only drive off this mechanism downstairs once and Brann can send
+another to take the Power source anyhow. If you stay passive you’re
+beaten. But listen to me—and maybe you can still win. Attack! Let the
+Power go—but follow it.”
+
+There was silence for a moment, while the two others digested this idea.
+Then Orelle said, “We could only follow to Brann’s walls. We’ve never
+been able to get into his castle and—”
+
+“Don’t you see, this is the only way! He’ll have to make room for the
+cube of the Power to enter. If we follow, there ought to be a way for us
+to force an entry too. Especially if he doesn’t suspect. Oh, I know—you
+think I _am_ Brann. I wish there were some way to—wait! Could you read
+my mind if I opened it to you? Would you believe me then?”
+
+Slowly Orelle said, “I think it might be possible. Are you willing to
+let me try?”
+
+Miller hesitated for a moment. There is a curious reluctance in the
+human mind to strip aside the last dark barrier that separates each
+individual from the world he lives in. The privacy of the mind is so
+jealously guarded a secret that not even if a man wills it can he wholly
+bare his thoughts to another. But unless Miller let Orelle into those
+innermost chambers there was little hope of success for any of them.
+
+“If I don’t,” he thought, “Brann will win, in the end. And if he
+wins—well, I have more to lose than anyone here.” Aloud, in his mental
+voice, he said to Orelle, “Yes—try if you’re able.”
+
+She smiled a little. “Let your mind go blank. Don’t offer any
+resistance—no, none at all—you _are_ resisting me, Miller. Let me have
+the truth. Brann—Brann . . . are you Brann? I must know. . . .”
+
+Her eyes held his and, as they had done once before, began to grow
+larger and larger until they blotted out the room and were a dark pool
+in which his consciousness was sinking. . . .
+
+“Thank you,” Orelle said quietly. “I’m sorry. You were telling me the
+truth all along—unless you’re more cunning than I think you are and
+know how to hide your secrets even deeper than the unconscious mind. I
+see that you mean us well. I see another thing, too—why you came here.”
+
+“Yes. You had to know that anyhow. It was why I asked about duplicating
+the Power cube.”
+
+“He wants to take it away with him, Llesi,” Orelle said and for the
+first time Miller realized that Orelle had been in even closer communion
+with his mind than Llesi himself, who dwelt in its very center. For
+Llesi had not seen the depths of it—he did not know what Orelle knew
+now.
+
+“To take it away?” Llesi demanded, incredulity in his thought. “But—”
+
+“Yes,” Orelle said quickly. “We could arrange for that, Llesi. If this
+plan works well owe him more reward than that.”
+
+“But Orelle,” Llesi persisted, “doesn’t he understand? Doesn’t he know
+that—”
+
+The thought ceased abruptly, and Miller had the uneasy feeling that the
+two were communicating on some higher plane of silence where he could
+not follow them. He was suddenly uneasy. There was something here he
+didn’t understand. The two of them knew something—about himself?—that
+he did not yet know, something that affected his future intimately.
+
+“What is it?” he demanded. “If I help you, I’ve a right to know.”
+
+Orelle turned to him, her dark eyes gentle now, the hatred and mistrust
+gone out of them. “There isn’t time,” she said. “Listen.”
+
+Far off, but audible through the opaque walls, the tinkle of falling
+glass came clearly to them.
+
+“It’s the machine,” Llesi said. “We haven’t time to waste now. If we
+follow your plan we mustn’t let it win too easily or Brann will suspect.
+Do you have any ideas of what to do after we enter Brann’s castle?”
+
+“Not yet,” Miller said almost absently. He was thinking hard about the
+strange little passage just ended. Until this moment he had not dared
+offer to open his whole mind for their inspection, because he had had
+nothing to bargain with. Inevitably Orelle would have seen that he
+wanted the Power and he had nothing to offer in return—until now.
+
+Well, it was a success in one way, but in another—failure? He couldn’t
+be sure. Oddly the balance had shifted and it was he who mistrusted his
+companions and they who believed at last that he could be depended on.
+Certainly they were hiding something vital from him.
+
+“Not yet,” he said again, forcing his mind to take up the immediate
+problem as the jangle of another falling barrier came more loudly
+through the walls. “I only know it’s easier to work on inspiration when
+you’re on the offensive—and once in Brann’s castle, we’ll need
+inspiration!
+
+“Brann’s—unbalanced. We know that. Push him farther off balance by
+attacking and maybe we’ll have an advantage. You know, there must be
+something important he’s hiding or he wouldn’t operate from the dark as
+he does. If we can see him face to face—well, who knows?”
+
+“When you say ‘we’,” Orelle interrupted, “whom do you mean?”
+
+“Myself. Llesi and me.”
+
+“And Orelle,” the girl said quietly.
+
+“Of course not! It’s going to be dangerous. Besides—”
+
+“No more dangerous to go than to wait for Brann’s vengeance if you fail.
+Tsi is my sister. I think I can control her and that should be a weapon
+you may need. You can’t take more than one or two with you if you hope
+to get in secretly so an army would do no good. But one companion—I
+think I could be useful to you, Miller.”
+
+“Llesi,” Miller said to the voice in his brain, “what do you think?”
+
+There was silence for a moment. “Let her come,” Llesi said. “What she
+says about Tsi is true enough. We may need her.”
+
+In the quiet a musical ringing of more breaking glass sounded clearer
+than before.
+
+“It’s coming,” Llesi said. “Now we have work to do. Are you ready,
+Miller? Take down that lens mounted on the tesseract and do as I tell
+you. We mustn’t let the machine win without a struggle. . . .”
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII
+                         _Battle of the Titans_
+
+
+In the light of earliest dawn they could see it rolling toward them far
+off across the plain. Crouching under the loom of Brann’s castle walls,
+Miller and Orelle waited almost in silence. It had seemed wisest to
+hurry ahead by teleportation and take shelter while Brann was presumably
+occupying all his powers with the direction of his mechanical warrior as
+it broke down the walls of the Power chamber and seized at last the
+thing he had sought so long.
+
+Now the two watchers—three, for Llesi waited in Miller’s brain—saw the
+lazily turning halo of pointed lights which was the Power glowing
+through the cloudiness of the machine that carried it. Faintly the
+soundless music of its turning floated to their ears.
+
+“We’ll have no time to waste,” Llesi warned them. “Brann’s wanted the
+Power for a purpose, you know. Once he learns how to use it there’ll be
+no hope of controlling him. Whatever we do we must do fast.”
+
+“Can he learn quickly how to operate it?” Miller asked.
+
+“You’re thinking of yourself.” Llesi sounded amused. “Yes, it can be
+mastered without too much difficulty. But don’t think about it now,
+Miller. You have our promise. Be content with that.”
+
+Miller stirred restlessly. “You’re hiding something. I’ve opened my mind
+to you, Orelle. If I deserve any reward for what I’m helping you do I
+deserve the truth from you. What is it?”
+
+Orelle shook her head. “Don’t ask us now. I’ll tell you if we come out
+of this alive. But it will only distract you now. I promise you it’s
+nothing that will affect our plans to conquer Brann. You need all your
+thoughts to do that. Afterward there’ll be time to talk of other things.
+Look—it’s nearly here. I wonder where Brann means to let it into the
+castle.”
+
+The music of the turning stars was clearer now. Miller could feel
+remotely that extraordinary attraction-repulsion action which the Power
+constantly exerted—it was so near to them as they crouched in hiding.
+The machine rolled its cloudy bulk past them, almost brushing their
+faces with the periphery of its mist, and moved up over the jumble of
+rocks that bordered Brann’s castle.
+
+It pressed close against the surface of the wall. Light glowing down
+from that extraordinary barrier which ran like water and shone like fire
+cast colored shadows upon the mist, so that it was like a cumulus of
+sunset-lighted cloud as it flattened itself against the wall.
+
+Miller could see Orelle’s anxious face lighted with strange hues from
+the water-wall as she watched. He held his breath.
+
+Within the sunset cloud patterns of latticed diamond moved and shifted.
+The wall surface dimmed as if a breath had blown upon it. Darkness grew
+where the dimness was—and suddenly a door had opened in the streaming
+water-light of the barrier.
+
+“Now!” Llesi breathed. “Now—follow it in!” She rushed forward.
+
+There was one breathless, heart-stopping moment when the rocks turned
+beneath their feel and Orelle, stumbling, nearly fell. The darkness of
+the opened door was already beginning to mist over with solidity when
+they reached it.
+
+“Dangerous.” Llesi’s thought flashed through Miller’s brain,
+lightning-like, far faster than it takes to express in words. “If we
+miss the turn of the wall-substance we’ll be caught in the solid mass.
+Hurry! Never mind making a noise. Hurry!”
+
+It was like pushing through a thin jelly of darkness that gave way
+readily enough but thickened perceptibly even as they moved. “Don’t
+breathe!” Llesi warned them. “Hold your breath if you can—I think
+you’ll be through in a moment.”
+
+The substance of the wall was a stiff, scarcely yielding stuff by the
+time they pushed free into clear air. They had made it with nothing to
+spare. Orelle reached back to touch the surface with a wondering hand as
+soon as she caught her breath, and the way they had come was already a
+solid resilient surface that lost its resilience as she pressed it and
+became hard unyielding wall again.
+
+They stood in a steeply sloping corridor that echoed with the thin
+voiceless music of the Power. Ahead of them the slowly spinning stars
+were visible through cloudy grey moving rapidly up the ramp away from
+them.
+
+Silently they followed.
+
+They were far down under the main floors of the castle. On their left,
+as they climbed the steep ramp, the wall of flowing light moved
+ceaselessly, tracing their shadows in the inner wall of the corridor.
+
+“Somewhere there must be guards,” Orelle said.
+
+“I’d feel better if we’d seen some before now,” Llesi told them
+uneasily. “I have a feeling Brann may be more omniscient than we know.”
+
+The ramp came to a steep end and turned back upon itself in a second
+long zig-zag rise. They toiled up in the wake of the cloudy robot that
+carried the Power. Still no guards.
+
+The ramp zig-zagged twice more and then there was a great open area,
+like a spacious chimney, rising overhead. The ramp had ended. Lightly,
+like the cloud it was, the robot left the ground. Teleportation carried
+it out of sight with startling swiftness. From high above the sound of
+voices drifted down the well, laughter, music.
+
+Without a word Orelle put out her arm and clasped Miller’s hand. A
+moment later the ground no longer pressed his feet. The light-wall slid
+down past them like a Niagara of colored water.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+The hall in which Brann held court was a vast domed circle. In the
+center of it rose a dais—and over the dais a curtain of darkness hung
+in straight columnar folds from the great height of the ceiling, veiling
+the platform. On its steps a woman was sitting, a stringed instrument on
+her knee. Rainbow hair swung forward about her shoulders as she bent her
+head and swept a hand across the strings. Wild, high music rang through
+the room.
+
+Someone called, “Brann! Where is Brann?” and the woman looked up,
+smiling. It was Tsi.
+
+“He’ll be here. He’s coming. He expects guests,” she said and looked
+straight across the room toward the far wall where, in an alcove, the
+robot stood motionless, enshrouding the Power in a misty cloud.
+
+Behind the robot, huddled against the alcove wall, Miller felt Orelle’s
+fingers tighten upon his. So long as the robot stood quiet, they were
+hidden behind its foggy outlines. When it moved—
+
+“She means us,” Orelle whispered. “I know Tsi. What shall we do?”
+
+“Wait,” Llesi counseled. “Listen.”
+
+In the great room beyond, where Brann’s court of brilliantly robed men
+and women lounged on divans that seemed cushioned with substance as
+immaterial as mist, a discontented cry was beginning to rise. Many
+mental voices blended in the clamor now.
+
+“Brann! Call him up, Tsi, call him up! Tell him the robot’s here. We
+want Brann again!”
+
+Tsi swept the strings musically. “He’s still asleep, down below,” she
+said. “I’m not sure if I dare wake him yet. Shall I try?”
+
+“Go down and call him,” someone urged, petulance in the voice that
+spoke. “We’ve waited too long already. Call him, Tsi!”
+
+Tsi smiled. “His visitors must be here by now,” she said maliciously.
+“Yes, I’ll go down and waken Brann.” She laid the harp on the steps and
+rose.
+
+At the same moment Miller felt a surge of force suddenly burst into
+blinding violence in the center of his brain. For an instant he was
+stunned by the power that seemed to pour tangibly forth from him and
+through him. . . .
+
+The robot that had screened them from view rose from the floor, lightly
+as a cloud, drifted forward over the heads of the gaping audience and
+turned suddenly incandescent just above the dais where Tsi stood.
+
+Miller knew it was Llesi’s doing, even before the quiet voice in his
+brain said, “This is the best way, after all. Attack. You were right,
+Miller. Now watch.”
+
+The robot was pure flame now. With a detached part of his mind Miller
+understood that it must have been deactivated once its mission was
+completed, so that any mind which teleported it now could do with it as
+it would. Llesi chose to destroy it in as spectacular a manner as he
+could contrive.
+
+Out of the blinding cloud of its dissolution the cube of the Power fell,
+the singing halo in it turning with slow, indifferent steadiness. The
+transparent block struck the steps a yard from where Tsi stood. It
+struck—and crashed through, splitting the white marble from top to
+floor. Tsi staggered.
+
+The crash rang from the high vaults above, rebounding from arch to arch
+in distant, diminishing echoes that came slowly back to the watcher
+below, long after the dais had ceased to vibrate.
+
+Tsi recovered her balance, turned on the shattered steps, looked
+straight across the hall to the alcove where Miller and Orelle stood.
+
+She was shaken but she had not lost her poise.
+
+“Sister!” she said, “Welcome to Brann’s castle. Shall I call him to
+greet you?”
+
+From Orelle a strong steady thought went out, compelling and quiet.
+
+“Tsi, sister, you must do as you think best. Is it best for us that
+Brann be called?”
+
+The woman on the dais hesitated. Miller could see that the quiet
+confidence in Orelle’s mental voice has shaken her a little. He knew now
+what Orelle had meant when she said she could control Tsi.
+
+It was a simple matter of sister speaking to sister with the voice of
+authority, calling back to mind the precepts of conscience and childhood
+training. Tsi was not, he thought, evil as Brann was evil. She was weak,
+certainly—and perhaps the weakness would stand them in good stead.
+
+She said uncertainly, “Orelle, I think perhaps—” But the voices from
+the audience around her, rising with sudden violence, drowned out
+whatever it was she meant to say. Miller was reminded of Roman audiences
+clamoring for blood in the arena.
+
+“Brann, _Brann_!” the voices howled. “Waken Brann! Go call him up to
+meet his guests! _Brann_, waken from your sleep! Brann, _Brann_, do you
+hear us?”
+
+Tsi hesitated a moment longer. Miller was aware of a desperate stream of
+thought-waves pouring out from Orelle beside him but the noise of the
+assembled people was too strong for her. She could not get through to
+her sister. Tsi turned suddenly, putting both hands to her face, and
+stumbled up the broken steps toward the dais.
+
+The long curtains that hung a hundred feet or more from the height of
+the ceiling trembled down all their dark length as she put them aside
+and vanished into the big tent they made, hiding the platform.
+
+There was a moment’s profound silence.
+
+Then Miller said quietly to Orelle, “Come on,” and, seizing her hand,
+strode forward across the floor. He had no idea what he meant to do but
+if he had come to attack then attack he must—not stand waiting for
+Brann to make an entrance on his throne.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Heads turned avidly to watch their progress across the great room. No
+one made a move to block their way, but eager eyes watched every motion
+they made and searched their faces for expression. This was the
+audience, Miller thought grimly, that would have watched Brann’s
+terrible “experiments” upon him if he had not escaped from the
+castle—with Tsi’s help. It was the audience, he realized, that might
+yet watch, if he failed.
+
+Llesi was silent in his brain, waiting.
+
+They were almost at the steps when the curtains stirred as if a breath
+of wind had blown through the hall. Tsi’s voice came weakly from the
+hidden place, “Wait, Brann—you mustn’t—”
+
+But drowning out the feeble protest another voice sounded clear. Miller,
+hearing that thin, sweet, sneering pattern which was the mental voice he
+had heard before, the voice of Brann, felt a chill sliding down his
+spine and a tightening of all his muscles. It was a hateful, a
+frightening voice, evoking a picture of a hateful man.
+
+“Come out, Brann!” Miller said strongly. “Unless you’re afraid of
+us—come out!”
+
+Behind him in the hall two or three intrepid voices echoed the
+invitation. “Come out Brann! Let us see you. You aren’t afraid,
+Brann—come out!” He knew from that how high curiosity must run even in
+Brann’s stronghold and he realized that not even here, then, had Brann
+ever yet showed his face. It made him a little more confident. If Brann
+had so much to hide, then, there must be weaknesses behind that curtain
+upon which he could play.
+
+He said, “Here’s the Power you wanted, Brann. We broke your platform but
+here it is waiting. Do you dare come out and look at it?”
+
+Brann said nothing. But his thin, sardonic laughter rang silently
+through the hall.
+
+Miller felt it rasping his nerves like something tangible. He said
+roughly, “All right then—I’ll come and bring you out!” And he set his
+foot firmly on the lowest step.
+
+A breath of excitement and anticipation ran rippling through the hall.
+Llesi was still silent. Orelle’s hand in Miller’s squeezed his fingers
+reassuringly. He mounted the second step, reached out his free hand for
+the curtain. . . .
+
+There was a deep, wrenching sound of stone against stone, and under his
+feet the steps lurched sickeningly. And then he was falling.
+
+The walls spun. The floor tilted up to strike him a solid blow—that did
+not touch him. For some firm, supporting mind closed its protection
+around his body and he floated gently a dozen feet and came to solid
+footing again, dazed but unhurt.
+
+The marble block of steps lay upturned upon the floor. Teleportation
+again, he realized. Brann had uprooted the steps he had climbed to
+prevent him from reaching the curtain. And someone—Llesi or Orelle—had
+reached out a mental beam to teleport him to safety.
+
+Brann’s cold clear laughter rang silently through the hall. He had not
+yet spoken. He did not speak now but his derision was like vitriol to
+the ears and the mind. Brann was waiting. . . . Somehow Miller could
+sense that, as he waited, an eagerness and impatience went out from him
+toward that block of transparence on the broken steps, where the halo of
+the Power revolved on its singing axis.
+
+Llesi realized it in the same instant and Miller felt in his brain the
+beginnings of some plan take shape—too late. For now there was a
+strange heaviness in the very air about him—a familiar heaviness. . . .
+This was the weapon Brann had used on him once before, turning the air
+itself to a crushing weight that had all but smashed his ribs in upon
+the laboring lungs.
+
+He felt his knees buckle under that sudden, overwhelming pressure. The
+air screamed around him and the vast hanging curtains of the dais
+billowed with a serpentine motion as displaced air moved with hurricane
+suddenness through the great room. Miller’s breath was stopped in his
+chest by that unbearable pressure. His ears sang and the room swam redly
+before him. Brann’s careless laughter was a distant ripple of sound.
+
+Power from outside himself gathered in Miller’s brain, gathered and
+spilled over in a wave like molten flame. He felt it gush out toward the
+platform where Brann sat hidden. But he was blind and deaf with the
+crushing weight of that suddenly ponderable air.
+
+Even above his own deafness and the shriek of the unnatural wind in the
+room he heard the scream of riven marble. And the weight upon him
+lessened a little. He could see again. He could see the great block of
+stone uprooted with jagged edges from the broken floor at the foot of
+Brann’s dais.
+
+It seemed to tear itself free, to leap into the air of its own
+volition—to hurtle toward Brann’s curtains as if Brann’s castle itself
+had suddenly turned upon him with great jagged stone fangs. In his brain
+Miller could feel the tremendous, concentrated effort of Llesi’s
+teleportation, balancing the marble weapon and guiding it on its course.
+
+The weight upon him ceased abruptly. The release was so sudden that the
+congested blood drained from Miller’s brain and for an instant the great
+room swam before him. In that moment of faltering the hurtling marble
+fragment faltered too and Llesi and Miller together struggled with the
+faintness of Miller’s overtaxed brain.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Brann seized the opening that brief hesitation gave him. He could not
+stop the flying weapon but he could block it. . . . A broken segment of
+the marble steps flew up in the path of the oncoming boulder, grated
+against it, deflected its course.
+
+The two struck together upon the dais steps and thundered down them with
+a ponderous sort of deliberation, bounding from step to step, their
+echoes rolling from the high ceiling. They went crashing across the
+floor, ploughing into the divans where Brann’s court had lain watching
+this unexpected sight.
+
+The screams of the watchers as the great marble blocks rolled down upon
+them added a frenzied accompaniment to the echoes of thunder wakened by
+the stone itself. The room was a tumult of sound re-echoing upon sound.
+
+Miller felt a renewed outpouring of Llesi’s power move in his brain. He
+saw a gigantic marble pillar across the room stagger suddenly on its
+base, crack across, lean majestically outward and fall. But it did not
+strike the floor. Instead it hurtled headlong, jagged end first, toward
+the dais.
+
+Above it the ceiling buckled. There was a terrible shriek of metal upon
+stone as the vaulted roof gave way. But the falling debris, in turn, did
+not strike the floor. Deflected in a rain of shattered marble, it moved
+to intercept the flying pillar. Column and broken stone together crashed
+to the ground at the very foot of Brann’s dais.
+
+The great hall was full of the shrieks of the scattering court, the
+cries of men caught beneath the falling ceiling, the uproar of echo upon
+echo as Brann’s throne room collapsed in thunderous noise upon its own
+floor.
+
+When the thunder ceased all who could flee had vanished. Half the
+ceiling lay in fragments upon the floor and Miller stood dizzily looking
+up at the dais whose long curtains still billowed in the wind. Brann was
+silent for a moment as if gathering his resources for another try. And
+Llesi was whispering,
+
+“My strength is failing, Miller. I can’t keep it up much longer. I’m
+going to try one last thing. I’ve got to know what it is Brann’s hiding.
+Help me if you can—and watch!”
+
+For an instant there was silence. Then, from far overhead, a long
+shudder began and rippled down the length of those vast hanging curtains
+which shrouded Brann’s dais. Stone groaned deeply upon stone in the
+ceiling.
+
+From the hidden platform Brann shrieked a soundless, “_No!_” as the
+block from which the curtains hung tore itself free of the vault above
+and came crashing down to rebound from the shattering pavement.
+
+The curtains themselves fell far more slowly. Like smoke they wavered in
+the air, collapsing softly, deliberately, parting to one side and the
+other. . . .
+
+Miller could see Brann trying to stop that fall. Invisibly the forces of
+his mind seemed to claw at their drifting lengths. But there was
+something wrong now in Brann’s mind. Even Miller could sense it.
+
+A dissolution was taking place that the mind felt and shrank from.
+Something worse than hysteria, more frightening than fear itself. Llesi
+was suddenly intent and Orelle caught her breath.
+
+Like smoke the last fragments of the curtains parted, lying to left and
+right along the broken floor, far out, in long swaths of shadow.
+
+On the platform stood Brann. . . .
+
+The figure that had terrorized such a multitude for so long stood
+swaying, clutching a black cloak about it as if to hide the shape of the
+body beneath. The face was contorted into a terrible grimace of anger
+and cold grinning hate. But the face itself was one they had all seen
+before.
+
+It was the face of Tsi.
+
+Her eyes were closed. She did not look at them nor speak nor move. And,
+Miller thought to himself, as Brann perhaps she had never opened her
+eyes. As Brann perhaps that grimace of chill hate always distorted her
+features. For it was clear to them all now that Tsi was mad.
+
+“Schizophrenia,” Miller thought automatically. “Split personality.” But
+there was no answering thought from Llesi or from Orelle. Stunned
+amazement held them both frozen.
+
+Tsi turned her unseeing eyes to Orelle. In Brann’s thin, cold,
+high-pitched voice-pattern she said, “Now you know. Now you’ve seen
+Brann. But before I kill you both, tell me—Orelle, _where is Tsi?_”
+
+Miller felt a cold shudder ripple over him.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VIII
+                          _The Consuming Fire_
+
+
+At the same moment he realized that Orelle and Llesi could not help him
+against—Brann. Their thoughts came into his mind with a stunned,
+incredulous tinge of astonishment, a blank bafflement that, strangely,
+seemed to leave them helpless. And Miller thought he knew why.
+
+Orelle and Llesi and all their race had been conditioned to mental
+perfection. Never before in their history, he sensed, had there been any
+case of mental aberration. The race had been too perfect for that. And
+now, faced with the pattern of schizophrenic split-personality, they
+were utterly unable to comprehend its meaning. It was too alien to them.
+
+Insanity had never before existed in Orelle’s race.
+
+Miller sent a frantic message to Llesi—inchoate confused
+memory-pictures from his scant knowledge of psycho-therapy. But Llesi
+did not understand. Instead he suddenly closed his mind. And, beside
+Miller, Orelle, too, closed her mind against a concept so shocking to
+this race that worshiped mental perfection that they could not
+consciously face it.
+
+The blind figure on the dais bent forward. “Orelle. . . .” it said.
+
+So Brann did not know that the other half of his mind belonged to Tsi.
+Naturally! Brann would not know that he was a half, an incomplete split
+personality. Nor would Tsi know that Brann was part of herself. What
+curious warp in the inherited genes had brought about this cleavage
+Miller never knew, but he did not think about that now.
+
+He stepped forward.
+
+“Brann!” he called.
+
+“So you are back.” The thought came coldly into his mind. “Well, the
+machine I tricked you into carrying failed to kill Llesi but I’ll remedy
+that soon enough. As for you. . . .” Thin mental laughter mocked Miller.
+
+He felt sweat crawling down his forehead. “Wait,” he thought urgently.
+“I can tell you where Tsi is.”
+
+He sensed a hesitancy and then an urgent, straining question.
+
+“Where? _Where is she?_”
+
+“You are—”
+
+Miller felt the mind on the dais close swiftly against the thought.
+Brann would not let himself listen to the truth. He could not.
+
+Brann thought. “Well? Answer me?”
+
+Troubled, uncomprehending, Orelle and Llesi waited and listened. And
+suddenly Miller knew the answer. He unbuckled the wrist-watch from his
+arm. Orelle had returned it to him, the deadly lightning machine
+removed. As a timepiece it was useless but habit had made Miller keep
+the watch.
+
+“Take this,” he said.
+
+Brann—Tsi—waited.
+
+Miller held it up. “It’s not dangerous any more. Can’t you tell that?”
+
+“A trick. You know nothing of what I wish to know. Why should I waste
+time on any of you?”
+
+“If you want to find Tsi,” Miller thought, “you must take this thing.
+Unless you’re afraid to find her.”
+
+The watch spun from his hand and shot glittering across the room. It was
+in Brann’s hand.
+
+Miller drew a long breath. “Turn it over. That’s it. Hold it up before
+your face. Yes. Now . . . open your eyes.”
+
+“My eyes will not open.”
+
+“Open them!”
+
+“They have never opened.”
+
+Tension sang through the still air. Miller felt Orelle’s sudden movement
+toward him.
+
+“If you open your eyes you will find Tsi.”
+
+That was the gap in the armor. That was the one thing that could pierce
+Brann’s insane half-mind. The blind white eyelids quivered . . . the
+long lashes lifted, slowly, slowly. . . .
+
+Brann’s eyes looked into the polished steel back of the watch. In that
+tiny mirror Brann’s eyes looked into—Tsi’s!
+
+Tsi’s eyes—wide, horrified—stared into Brann’s!
+
+There was no protection against the mental avalanche that roared out
+from that rocking, screaming mind—the two minds—in the single body of
+Tsi. For the first time Brann saw the girl he had searched for since his
+strange birth. And for the first time Tsi saw her own face twisted,
+distorted, into the grimace of chilly hatred that was irrevocably
+stamped on Brann’s features.
+
+But what Miller felt was—pity. It was the basic principle of mental
+therapy—making the patient face his problem squarely. But no ordinary
+human schizophrenic had ever thus had the curtains of his brain ripped
+away with such sudden violence. The normal human brain has automatic
+safeguards against such intrusion.
+
+Tsi was of another race—a race mentally developed to a tremendously
+high standard. She had been warped before birth though the madness had
+remained latent for a long time—but her mind was nevertheless powerful
+enough to be able to face the shocking incredible truth.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+She had never been evil, as was Brann—weak, yes, but incapable of that
+cold cruelty her alter ego loved.
+
+Face to face, for a thunderous, eternity-long instant, the two
+stood—good and evil mated, monstrously wedded in one body and one
+brain. The silence roared.
+
+Then the hand that held the mirror dropped. The face of Tsi swung round
+so that her mad, wild, terrified eyes met Miller’s—and he read
+destruction there. The double mind looked out of those eyes into his and
+for an instant it was as if both Tsi and Brann spoke to him—as he had
+first heard them speaking when he woke in this incredible world.
+
+But then they had not known the truth. It had been a split mind talking
+to itself, good and evil debating together and not guessing they were
+housed in a single brain. Now they knew. At some point in the past the
+evil inherent in Tsi had lost its battle with the good in her—and
+pulled free of the control of her conscious mind. It had called itself
+by a new name, given itself a masculine identity to disguise its origin
+still further, grown so strong that not even Tsi could control it any
+longer.
+
+Brann was abhorrent to Tsi. And to Brann the knowledge that Tsi was
+himself was a thing he could not face. The split mind, rocking on its
+foundation, reached out into Miller’s mind with a mad destructive
+violence.
+
+“You brought ruin on me!” cried the double voice. “You wrecked my castle
+and my life! You must die and all your kind with you!”
+
+The eyes caught Miller’s in a drowning stare. He could not look away,
+and the eyes were growing larger and larger, engulfing him in darkness
+and in the darkness the madness of two minds swirled terribly, carrying
+away his own sanity on those dreadful, reasonless vortices. . . .
+
+Miller could no longer see Orelle but he heard her moan, a soft whimper
+of helpless terror. “I can’t—help you,” she was saying from far away.
+“I can’t fight the two of them. Llesi—_Llesi_—where are you?”
+
+For a moment there was no answer. The mad twin-mind buffeted at Miller’s
+from both sides at once, pulling it asunder, spinning in two opposite
+directions and straining him apart between them. No single mind could
+withstand the doubled strength of that split brain dragging him down to
+madness. . . .
+
+And then, suddenly, he was not fighting alone. Out of the darkness
+Llesi’s mind came swiftly, intangibly, yet with a strength as if the man
+himself had set his shoulder against Miller’s, bracing him against the
+whirlpool whose vortex led down to insanity.
+
+Perhaps no other mind in existence could have stood against the riven
+mind of Brann-Tsi. But in Miller’s brain too a double mind had been
+housed—his own and Llesi’s. They had learned to work together. And now
+they could fight. . . .
+
+There was a voiceless scream of fury—Brann’s thin, high, sweet-toned
+rage. And the buffeting redoubled from two sides at once. But now there
+were two minds to meet the attack. Miller drew a deep breath and set
+himself stubbornly against the whirling drag that was pulling him down
+to darkness. He could feel the strong resistance of Llesi’s mind,
+fighting beside his own, struggling hard against the double pull.
+
+For a timeless moment the vortex held them both. In that roaring
+silence, while madness raved about them, neither side seemed able to
+shake the others. Attacker and attacked stood matched so perfectly that
+the balance might have held forever with the fury of the split mind
+screaming its soundless cry in infinity.
+
+Then the scream shivered up to a peak of madness that no sane mind could
+sustain. And while the vortex still rang with it . . .
+
+The robed figure on the dais moved suddenly. Miller’s blindness lifted
+again. He could see the dark robe stream back from Tsi’s rainbow
+garments as she plunged down the steps toward the crystal block, where
+the halo of the Power turned in its singing silence.
+
+A bolt of the mind reached out before her toward the halo—a summoning
+bolt. One quivering thought shook the air of the room. Death was the
+thought. Tsi and Brann could not live together in the same brain and
+face the knowledge of their oneness. There was no choice but death for
+them now.
+
+The bolt of white lightning blazed up to meet that plunging figure in
+answer to its summons. Blazed up and swallowed Tsi—and Brann.
+
+There was a shimmer in the air where the body and the twin mind had
+hovered. And then—nothing. . . .
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IX
+                              _Fairy Gold_
+
+
+Miller found himself sitting on the broken marble steps with his head in
+his hands. How long a time had passed he had no idea. Orelle’s touch on
+his shoulder made him look up at last. She was smiling a little but her
+eyes were grave.
+
+“Are you all right now?” she asked. “You’re safe. We’re all safe, thanks
+to you. I’m glad I’ve never known your world if you could understand a
+thing like that—that madness. But I’m glad you did understand it—for
+our sakes. You saved us, Miller. You can ask your own reward.”
+
+He looked at her groggily, thinking with incongruous steadiness that he
+was probably suffering from shock now and not really responsible. But he
+glanced involuntarily toward the crystal block of the Power.
+
+Orelle’s smile was sad. “Yes,” she said, “we can make you a duplicate if
+you ask us. But it would be effort wasted in the end.”
+
+He stared at her, not understanding. Then his eyes went beyond her to
+the shattered wall and the beautiful shining day outside. New senses
+were burgeoning in him and he could sense in that glittering sunlight
+colors and sounds and glories beyond anything words could tell.
+
+The air was a tangible thing against his cheek, velvet soft, sweeter
+than perfume. He was beginning to perceive new shapes moving dimly on
+the edge of vision, as if there were a whole unknown world just now
+slowly unveiling before his freshly opened eyes.
+
+Miller laughed suddenly. “I know what you mean,” he said. “I must be
+stupid, not to have seen it until now. Of course I won’t want a
+duplicate of the Power. Why should I? I’m not going back to Slade. I’d
+be crazy if I left a paradise like this. What good would a duplicate do
+me when I’m staying on here—forever!”
+
+Orelle shook her shining head. Her eyes were very sad. In a gentle voice
+she began to speak. And Llesi’s voice, gentle too in the dimness of his
+mind, spoke with her.
+
+Very quietly they told him the truth.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+“So you know now it was fairy gold,” the Belgian said, sliding the
+bottle across the table. “Well, I could not have made you believe. You
+had to experience it yourself.”
+
+Miller looked at nothing.
+
+Van Hornung glanced toward the fire, shivered and reached out a stubby
+finger toward the dull cube on the table between them.
+
+“Drink,” he said.
+
+Slowly Miller obeyed. There was a long silence.
+
+Finally Van Hornung said, “It is—still the same up there? The castles
+and the wonderful people and the—colors? But it would be. The colors—I
+was an artist once. I think the colors meant most to me. There were so
+many we do not know.”
+
+“Orelle told me,” Miller said dully. “I wouldn’t believe her. I didn’t
+want to believe her.”
+
+“There are the legends, Miller,” Van Hornung said. “You and I aren’t the
+first. We won’t be the last. There have always been stories of humans
+who visit Paradise for a little while—and leave again. I’m no
+scientist. I never knew why—”
+
+Miller glanced up. His eyes brightened a little.
+
+“It was an unstable compound,” he said. “There was an atomic change, you
+see. The Path does that. Your atomic structure shifts to something quite
+different. When you’re like that you can talk with your mind, without
+words.”
+
+“I know,” the Belgian said. “I do not talk much any more. It is never
+the same, after that.”
+
+“Will it ever. . . ?”
+
+Van Hornung said quietly, “We were like gods for a little while. We ate
+the food of the gods. Can we expect mortal food to please us after
+that?”
+
+Miller nodded in silence. To go back to his old world, to live his old
+life would be meaningless now—like going back to blindness after
+knowing sight in a brighter world than this. He had had a taste of this
+once, in Orelle’s castle, while they searched him with piercing
+electronic eyes for the weapon he did not know he carried. That had been
+an illusion and a foretaste of this death-in-life which he must live now
+until he died—as the Belgian had been living.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+He remembered how the mountain-top world had begun to fade around him,
+Orelle’s pitying face growing ghostlike, the glass walls of her castle
+turning to mist and the wonderful nameless colors of her gardens
+thinning away to nothingness while the snow-covered peaks took shape
+solidly behind them.
+
+There had been a little time longer, after Brann’s defeat, for him to
+enjoy the last days of Paradise. He had refused to believe it could end
+at all. He had shut his mind to the instability of his change, to the
+fact that he had been himself an isotope created by a temporary
+radioactive atomic shift so that, when the quantum energy was released,
+the atomic pattern must revert to its former state. And in one terrible,
+fading instant the familiar prison of his own senses closed around him
+once more as the lovely world of Peak Seven Hundred went volatile and
+vanished.
+
+The last thing to go was the little cube Llesi had made for him with the
+singing halo of the Power turning in miniature within it. When the waste
+of glacial ice was all that remained of the invisible castle he went
+slowly down the mountain again, walking, he knew, through fields of
+glowing flowers he could never see again. And now it was the ice and
+snow that seemed illusion—the vanished summer world the only real thing
+in life.
+
+He kept taking the cube out and looking at it as he descended the lower
+slopes. After awhile it seemed dimmer than he remembered, the singing
+fainter. When he reached the valley the glow was gone entirely. The cube
+was non-radioactive lead, inert and useless. Fairy gold, the legends
+said, was glittering in your hands when the immortals put it there—but
+when you looked again it had always turned to leaves and pebbles.
+
+Van Hornung said, “What will you do now?”
+
+Miller shrugged. “Is anything worth doing?”
+
+“Not for me, any longer. After you have seen the colors and used your
+mind to its fullest, there is nothing worth the effort of doing in this
+world below. Stay with me if you like. It does not matter.”
+
+Behind Miller the door opened quietly. Slade walked into the room. When
+he saw Miller his jaw dropped slightly.
+
+“_Miller!_ What’s the matter with you? When did you get in?”
+
+“Just now.”
+
+“Did you get it?”
+
+“Get what?” Miller said dully.
+
+“The energy-source!” Slade thrust his face down to Miller’s, the feral
+eyes narrowing, the thin lips tight. Seeing him, Miller thought suddenly
+of Brann. The same irresponsible power, dangerous, hungry, admitting no
+discipline but its own desires.
+
+He was glad, in a casual way, that Slade could never use the Power.
+Slade could do harm enough, had done more than harm enough, with only
+his own driving unscrupulous brain to guide him. Once armed with a thing
+like the Power. . . .
+
+“I left it where I found it,” Miller said indifferently. “Up on the
+Peak.”
+
+“How can we get it?” Slade demanded urgently. “An expedition?”
+
+“You can have it for the asking—up there.” A slow idea took shape in
+Miller’s mind. Sardonically he said, “Look for the red path at the foot
+of the cliff. Follow it. Go on up and you’ll have no trouble finding
+your energy-source. That’s all I’m going to say. We’re through, Slade.
+Get out.”
+
+And he would say no more though it was ten minutes before Slade
+exhausted his threats and arguments and left. Miller smiled wryly at the
+Belgian.
+
+“He’ll go. You couldn’t keep him away. And you know what will happen.”
+
+“What happened to us. But—why did you send him?”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Miller stared out the window at the snowy cone of Peak Seven Hundred,
+white and empty against the sky.
+
+“I hated Slade once,” he said. “That doesn’t matter how. But where men
+like Slade go there’s cruelty and misery and suffering. I can at least
+spare a few other men what I’ve gone through from him. He’ll come
+back—as we are. As for the Power—yes, it’s fairy gold.”
+
+The Belgian said softly, “. . .’amid such greater glories that we are
+worse than blind.’”
+
+Miller nodded. “The Power and the Glory. Some day our race may achieve
+it. But it has to be earned.”
+
+He reached for the bottle.
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68425 ***
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+<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68425 ***</div>
+
+<div class="figcenter x-ebookmaker-drop">
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+<hr class='pbk'/>
+
+<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
+<p class='line' style='font-size:3em;'>The Power and the Glory</p>
+<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
+<p class='line'><span style='font-size:x-large'>By HENRY KUTTNER</span></p>
+<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
+<p class='line'>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br/>
+Thrilling Wonder Stories, December 1947.<br/>
+Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br/>
+the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
+</div> <!-- end rend -->
+
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER I<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Transmutation</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Carrying the coffee-pot, the Belgian
+shuffled out of the room. The door
+thumped behind him. Miller met
+Slade’s inquiring stare and shrugged.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So he’s crazy,” Miller said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slade drew down the corners of his thin
+mouth. “Maybe he is. But I’ve got other
+sources of information, remember. I’m sure
+there’s—something—up on Peak Seven Hundred.
+Something plenty valuable. You’re
+going to find it for me.” His teeth clicked on
+the last word.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Am I?” Miller said sourly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Suit yourself. Anytime you feel like it
+you can go back to the States.” There was a
+threat in the way he said it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said, “Sure. And then you send a
+few telegrams .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. It was a sweet little
+frame you fixed up on me. A murder rap—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Well,” Slade interrupted, “<span class='it'>that</span> happened
+to be a frame. I’ve got to protect myself,
+though, in case you ever want to turn State’s
+evidence.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’ve done your dirty work for ten years,”
+Miller growled. “It’s too late now to try
+crossing you up. But we’re both guilty of
+one particular murder, Slade. A guy named
+Miller who was an honest lawyer, ten years
+ago. I feel sorry for the poor sucker.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slade’s strong, implacable face turned
+away from him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The man with the gun has the advantage.
+Up on Peak Seven Hundred there’s the biggest
+gun in the world—I think. Something’s
+sending out terrific power-radiations. I’m
+no scientist, but I’ve got men working for
+me who are. If I can get that—weapon—from
+the Peak, I can write my own ticket.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked at him curiously. He had to
+admit Slade’s strength, his powerful will.
+Head of a slightly criminal and completely
+unscrupulous political empire for a decade
+now, Slade was growing restive, reaching
+out for new worlds to conquer.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Word of this power-source on the peak in
+Alaska had sounded fantastic even back in
+the States but it seemed to fascinate Slade,
+who could afford to indulge his whims. And
+he could afford to trust Miller—to a certain
+extent. Miller was in Slade’s hands and knew
+it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They both looked up as the Belgian came
+back into the room, carrying a fresh bottle
+of whiskey. Van Hornung was drunk and
+well aware of his own drunkenness. He
+peered at them from under the huge fur
+cap he wore even indoors.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Could man be drunk forever with liquor,
+love and fights</span>—” he murmured, hooking
+out a chair with his foot. “Ah well, it doesn’t
+matter now. Have another drink, gentlemen.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller glanced at Slade, then leaned forward
+across the table.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“About Peak Seven Hundred, now,” he
+said. “I wish you’d—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The Belgian slapped a fat hand on the
+table. “You ask me about Seven Hundred.
+Very well, then—listen. I would not tell
+you before—I did not wish you to die. Now
+I am drunker and, I think, wiser. It does not
+matter whether a man lives or dies.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“For twenty years I have been neither
+alive nor dead. I have not thought nor felt
+emotion nor lived like a man. I have eaten
+and drunk and tried to forget. If you wish
+to go to the Peak I’ll tell you the way. It’s
+all quite futile, you see.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He drank. Miller and Slade exchanged
+glances in silence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If you go,” Van Hornung said, “you will
+leave your soul behind you—as I did. We
+are not the dominant race, you see. We try
+to achieve the summits but we forget that
+there may already be dwellers on the peaks.
+Oh yes, I will tell you the way to the Peak
+if you like. But if you live you will not
+care about anything any more.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller glanced again at Slade, who gestured
+impatiently.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’ll take a chance on that,” Miller said to
+the Belgian. “Tell me the way.”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the dim twilight of the arctic noon Miller
+followed his Innuit guides up the snowy
+foothills toward Seven Hundred. For many
+days they had traveled, deeper and deeper
+into this dry, sub-zero silence, muffled in
+snow. The guides were nervous. They knew
+their arctic gods, animistic, watchful, resented
+intrusion into sacred areas like Peak
+Seven Hundred. In their fur-hooded Esquimaux
+faces oriental eyes watched Miller mistrustfully.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He was carrying his gun now. Two of the
+Innuits had deserted already, in the depths of
+the long nights. These two remained and
+hated him, and went on only because their
+fear of his gun was greater—so far—than
+their fear of the gods on Seven Hundred.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The Peak lifted great sheer cliffs almost
+overhead. There was no visible way of
+scaling it. But the Innuits were hurrying
+ahead as if they had already sighted a clearly
+marked trail. Miller quickened his steps,
+a vague uneasiness beginning to stir in his
+mind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then the foremost Esquimau dropped to
+his knees and began to scrabble in the snow.
+Miller shouted, hearing his own voice come
+back thin and hollow from the answering
+peaks. But when he reached the two, one
+of them looked up over his furclad shoulder
+and smiled a grim smile. In his native tongue
+he spoke one of the strange compound
+words that can convey a whole sentence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Ariartokasuaromarotit-tog</span>,” he said. “Thou
+too wilt soon go quickly away.” There was
+threat and warning and satisfaction in the
+way he said it. His fur mitten patted something
+in the snow.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller bent to look. An iridescent pathway
+lay there, curving up around a boulder
+and out of sight, rough crystal surfaces that
+caught the light with red and blue shadows.
+Here in the white, silent world of the high
+peaks it looked very beautiful and strange.
+Miller knelt and ran a gloved hand over it,
+feeling even through the leather a slight
+tingling.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Erubescite!” he murmured to himself,
+and smiled. It meant copper, perhaps gold.
+And it was an old vein. The color spoke of
+long exposure. There was nothing strange
+about finding a vein of erubescite in the
+mountains—the interpenetrating cubes
+twinned on an octahedral plane were common
+enough in certain mining regions. Still,
+the regularity of the thing was odd. And
+that curious tingling.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It looked like a path.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The Innuits were watching him expectantly.
+Moving with caution, Miller stepped
+forward and set his foot on the path. It was
+uneven, difficult to balance on. He took
+two or three steps along the iridescent purple
+slope, and then.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And then he was moving smoothly upward,
+involuntarily, irresistibly. There was a
+strange feeling in his feet and up the long
+muscles at the back of his legs. And the
+mountain was sliding away below him.
+Peaks, snow-slopes, fur-clad men all slipped
+quietly off down the mountainside, while at
+Miller’s feet a curving ribbon of iridescence
+lengthened away.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’m dreaming!” was his first thought.
+And his head spun with the strange new
+motion so that he staggered—and could not
+fall. That tingling up his legs was more
+than a nervous reaction, it was a permeation
+of the tissues.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Transmutation!” he thought wildly, and
+clutched in desperation at the slipping fabric
+of his own reason. “The road’s moving,” he
+told himself as calmly as he could. “I’m fixed
+to it somehow. Transmutation? Why did I
+think of transmutation? I can’t move my
+feet or legs—they feel like stone—like the
+substance of the road.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The changing of one element into another—lead
+into gold, flesh into stone .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. The
+Innuits had known. Far away he could see
+the diminishing dots that were his guides
+slide around a curve and vanish. He gestured
+helplessly, finding even his arms
+growing heavy, as if that strange atomic
+transmutation were spreading higher and
+higher through his body.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Powerless, one with the sliding path, he
+surrendered himself without a struggle to
+that mounting glide. Something stronger
+than himself had him in a grip that seemed
+purposeful. He could only wait and .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. it was
+growing difficult to think. Perhaps the
+change was reaching to his brain by now.
+He couldn’t tell.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He only knew that for a timeless period
+thereafter he did not think any more about
+anything.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Thin laughter echoed through his mind.
+A man’s voice said, “But I am bored,
+Tsi. Besides, he won’t be hurt—much. Or if
+he is, what does it matter?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller was floating in a dark void. There
+was a strangeness about the voice he could
+not analyze. He heard a woman answer and
+in her tone was a curious likeness to the
+man’s.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Don’t, Brann,” she said. “You can find
+other—amusements.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The high laughter came again. “But he’s
+still new. It should be interesting.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann, please let him go.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Be silent, Tsi. I’m master here. Is he
+awake yet?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A pause. “No, not yet. Not for a while yet.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I can wait.” The man sighed. “I’ve preparations
+to make, anyhow. Let’s go, Tsi.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a long, long pause. The voices
+were still.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller knew he was floating in nothingness.
+He tried to move and could not. Inertia
+still gripped his body but his brain was
+free and functioning with a clarity that
+surprised him. It was almost as if that
+strange transmutation had changed his very
+brain-tissues to something new and marvelous.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Transmutation,” he thought. “Lead into
+gold—flesh into stone—that’s what I was
+thinking about when—when I stopped thinking.
+When that sort of change happens, it
+means the nuclear charge in the atoms of
+one substance or the other has to change too.
+The tingling when I touched the road—was
+that when it happened?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But he paused there, knowing there was
+no answer. For when had a man ever before
+felt the shifting from flesh to crystal take
+place in his own body?</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>If it had happened that way, then it must
+have been a force like the coulomb forces
+themselves that welded him into one with
+the moving road—the all but irresistible
+forces that hold the electrons in their orbits
+and rivet all creation into a whole.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And now—what?</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“There are two methods of transmutation,”
+he told himself clearly, lying there in the
+dark and groping for some answer to the
+thing that was happening to him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Rationalize it,” his mind seemed to say,
+“or you’ll go mad with sheer uncertainty.
+Reason it out from what you know. A
+chemical element is determined by the number
+of electrons around the nucleus—change
+that and you change the element. But the
+nucleus, in turn, determines by its charge
+the number of electrons it can control. If
+the nuclear charge is changed, then this—this
+crystalline state—is permanent.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But if it isn’t, then that must mean there’s
+constant bombardment that knocks off or
+adds electrons to whatever touches that road.
+The change wouldn’t be permanent because
+the original charge of the nucleus remains
+constant. After awhile the extra electrons
+would be dropped, or others captured to
+restore the balance, and I’d be normal
+again. That must be the way of it,” he told
+himself, “because Van Hornung came this
+way. And he went back again—normal. Or
+was he really normal?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The question echoed without answer in
+his brain. Miller lay quiet a moment longer
+and then began to try once more to stir his
+inert body. This time, a very little, he felt
+muscles move.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>What seemed a long while later, he found
+he could open his eyes. Very cautiously he
+looked around.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER II<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Tsi</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He was alone. He lay on something
+hard and flat. A dome of crystal
+arched overhead, not very high, so that he
+seemed in effect to lie in a box of crystal—a
+coffin, he thought grimly, and sat up with
+brittle care. His muscles felt as stiff as if the
+substance of the iridescent roadway still
+permeated his flesh.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The dome seemed to have strange properties,
+for all he saw through it was curiously
+distorted and colored with such richness it
+almost hurt the eyes to gaze upon what lay
+beyond.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He saw columns of golden trees upon
+which leaves moved and glittered in constantly
+changing prisms of light. Something
+like smoke seemed to wreathe slowly among
+the trees, colored incredibly. Seen through
+the dome about him the color of the smoke
+was nameless. No man ever saw that hue
+before nor gave a name to it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The slab on which he sat was the iridescent
+purple of the road. If it had carried
+him here, he saw no obvious way in which
+it could have left him lying on the crystal
+coffin. Yet, clearly, this was the end of the
+moving roadway and, clearly too, the forces
+which had welded him to it were gone now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The unstable atoms created in the grip of
+that strange force had shaken off their abnormality
+and reverted to their original
+form. He was himself again but stiff, dizzy
+and not sure whether he had dreamed the
+voices. If he had, it was a nightmare. He
+shivered a little, remembering the thin, inhuman
+laughter and its promise of dreadful
+things.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He got up, very cautiously, looking around.
+As nearly as he could tell through the distorting
+crystal there was no one near him.
+The coffin stood in a grove of the golden
+trees and, except for the mist and the twinkling
+leaves, nothing moved. He put out a
+tentative hand to push the crystal up.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>His hand went through it. There was a
+tinkling like high music, ineffably sweet, and
+the crystal flew into glittering fragments
+that fell to the ground in a second rain of
+sound. The beauty of it for a moment was
+almost pain. He had never heard such music
+before. It was almost more beautiful than
+any human being should be allowed to hear,
+he thought confusedly. There are sensations
+so keen they can put too great a strain upon
+human nerves.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then he stood there unprotected by the
+dome and looked around him at the trees and
+the mist and saw that the dome had made
+no difference. These incredible colors were
+no distortions—they were real. He took a
+tentative step and found the grass underfoot
+so soft that even through his shoe-soles he
+could feel its caress.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The very air was exquisitely cool and
+hushed, like the air of a summer dawn, almost
+liquid in its translucence. Through it
+the winking of the prism-leaves was so
+lovely to look at that he turned his eyes
+away, unable to endure the sight for more
+than a moment.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>This was hallucination. “I’m still somewhere
+back there in the snow,” he thought.
+“Delirium—that’s it. I’m imagining this.”
+But if it were a dream, then Van Hornung
+had known it too, and men do not dream
+identical dreams. The Belgian had warned
+him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He shook his shoulders impatiently. Even
+with all this before him he could not quite
+bring himself to believe Van Hornung’s story.
+There was a quality of dream about this
+landscape, as if all he saw were not in reality
+what it seemed, as if this grass of ineffable
+softness were—and he knew it was—only
+crusted snow, as if those cliffs he could
+glimpse among the trees were really the
+bare crags of Peak Seven Hundred, and
+everything else delirium. He felt uneasily
+that he was really lying somewhere asleep
+in the snow, and must wake soon, before
+he froze.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>That high, thin laughter rang suddenly
+through the air. In spite of himself Miller
+felt his heart lurch and he whirled to face
+the sound with a feeling of cold terror congealing
+him. It was odd how frightening the
+careless voice had been, talking impersonally
+of its pleasures.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A little group of men and women was
+coming toward him through the trees. He
+could not guess which of them had laughed
+the familiar laughter. They wore brilliantly
+colored garments of a subtle cut that hung
+like a toga or a sari, with a wonderful sophistication
+of line. The colors were incredible.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller blinked dazedly, trying in vain to
+find names for those shimmering hues that
+seemed to combine known colors into utterly
+unknown gradations and to draw from the
+range of colors above and below the spectrum
+as we see it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A women said, “Oh, he’s awake,” and a
+man laughed pleasantly and said, “Look how
+surprised he is!” All of them smiled and
+turned bright, amused faces to Miller.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He said something—he never remembered
+what—and stopped in sheer shock at the
+harsh dissonance of his own voice. It was
+like an ugly discord tearing through smooth,
+lilting arpeggios of harmony. The faces of
+the others went blank briefly, as though
+they had concentrated on something else to
+avoid hearing the sound. The woman Miller
+had first noticed lifted her hand.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Wait,” she said. “Listen to me, for a moment.
+There is no need to speak—<span class='it'>aloud</span>.”
+A faint distaste was in her tone. Her .&nbsp;.&nbsp;.
+tone? That could not be right. No voice
+was ever so sweetly musical, so gently harmonious.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked at her. Her face was a small
+pale triangle, lovely and elfin and strange,
+with enormous violet eyes and piled masses
+of hair that seemed to flow in winding
+strands through one another. Each strand
+was of a different pastel hue, dusty green or
+pale amethyst or the yellow of sunshine on
+a hazy morning. It was so in keeping, somehow,
+that Miller felt no surprise. That
+bizarre coiffure fitted perfectly with the
+woman’s face.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He opened his mouth again, but the woman—it
+shocked him a little, and he wondered
+that it did not shock him even more—was
+suddenly beside him. A split-second before
+she had been ten feet away.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You have much to learn,” she said. “First,
+though—remember not to speak. It isn’t
+necessary. Simply frame your thoughts.
+There’s a little trick to it. No—keep your
+mouth closed. Think. Think your question.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Her lips had moved slightly, but merely
+for emphasis. And surely normal vocal cords
+could not have been capable of that unearthly
+sweetness and evenness of tone, with its amazing
+variations and nuances. Miller thought,
+“Telepathy. It must be telepathy.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They waited, watching him inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The woman said, silently, “Think—<span class='it'>to me</span>.
+Frame the thought more carefully. The concepts
+must be rounded, complete. Later you
+may use abstracts but you can’t do that yet.
+All I can read is a cloudiness.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller thought carefully, word by word,
+“Is this telepathy?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Still cloudiness,” she said. “But it’s clearer
+now. You were never used to clear thinking.
+Yes, it is telepathy.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But how can I—where am I? What is
+this place?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She smiled at him, and laughter moved
+through the group. “More slowly. Remember,
+you have just been born.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Just—what?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And thoughts seemed to fly past him like
+small bright insects, grazing the edges of his
+consciousness. A half-mocking, friendly
+thought from one of the men, a casual comment
+from another.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Brann</span>, Miller thought, remembering.
+<span class='it'>What about Brann? Where is he?</span></p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was dead silence. He had never
+felt such stillness before. It was of the
+mind, not physical. But he felt communication,
+super-sensory, rapid and articulate, between
+the others. Abruptly the rainbow-haired
+woman took his arm, while the others
+began to drift off through the prism-leaves
+and the golden trees.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She pulled him gently away under the
+tinkling foliage, through the drifts of colored
+mists. Brushing violet fog before them with
+her free hand, she said, “We would rather
+not mention Brann here, if we can avoid it.
+To speak of him sometimes—brings him.
+And Brann is in a dangerous mood today.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked at her with a frown of concentration.
+There was so much to ask. In
+that strange mental tongue that was already
+coming more easily to him, he said, “I don’t
+understand any of this. But I know your
+voice. Or rather, your—I’m not sure what
+you’d call it.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The mental voice, you mean? Yes, you
+learn to recognize them. It’s easy to imitate
+an audible voice but the mental one can’t be
+imitated. It’s part of the person. So you remember
+hearing my thoughts before? I
+thought you were asleep.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You’re Tsi.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” she said and pushed aside a tinkling
+screen of the prisms. Before them stood a
+low rampart of light—or water. Four feet
+high, it ran like liquid but it glowed like
+light. Beyond it was blue sky and a sheer,
+dizzying drop to meadows hundreds of feet
+below. The whole scene was almost blindingly
+vivid, every lovely detail standing out
+sharp and clear and dazzling.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He said, “I don’t understand. There are
+legends about people up here, but not about—this.
+This vividness. Who are you? What
+is this place?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi smiled at him. There was warmth and
+compassion in the smile, and she said gently,
+“This is what your race had once, and lost.
+We’re very old, but we’ve kept—” Abruptly
+she paused, her eyes brightening suddenly
+with a look of terror.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said. “Hush!” and in the mental command
+there was a wave of darkness and silence
+that seemed to blanket his mind. For
+no reason his heart began to pound with
+nervous dread. They stood there motionless
+for an instant, mind locked with mind in a
+stillness that was more than absence of
+sound—it was absence of thought. But
+through the silence Miller caught just the
+faintest echo of that thin, tittering laugh he
+had heard before, instinct with cold, merciless
+amusement.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The prism leaves sang around them with
+little musical tinklings. From the sunlit
+void stretching far below bird-song rippled
+now and then with a sweetness that was almost
+painful to hear. Then Tsi’s mind relaxed
+its grip upon Miller’s and she sighed
+softly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It’s all right now. For a moment I
+thought Brann .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. but no, he’s gone again.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Who is Brann?” Miller demanded.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The lord of this castle. A very strange
+creature—very terrible when his whims are
+thwarted. Brann is—he cares for nothing
+very much. He lives only for pleasure and,
+because he’s lived so long and exhausted so
+many pleasures, the devices he uses now are
+not very—well, not very pleasant for anyone
+but Brann. There was a warp in him before
+his birth, you see. He’s not quite—not
+quite of our breed.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He’s from the outside world? Human?”
+As he said it Miller knew certainly that the
+woman before him was not human, not as he
+understood the term.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But Tsi shook her head. “Oh, no. He was
+born here. He’s of our breed. But not of our
+norm. A little above in many ways, a little
+below in others. <span class='it'>Your</span> race—” there was
+faint distaste and pity in the thought, but
+she let it die there, unelaborated.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You can’t understand yet,” she went on.
+“Don’t try. You see, you suffered a change
+when you came. You aren’t quite as you
+were before. Were you ever able to communicate
+telepathically?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“No, of course not. But I don’t feel any
+different. I—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“A blind man, given sight, wouldn’t realize
+it until he opened his eyes. And he
+might be dazzled at first. You’re at a disadvantage.
+I think it would be best for you to
+get away. Look there, across the valley.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She lifted an arm to point. Far off across
+the dazzling meadows hills rose, green in the
+sunlight, shimmering a little in the warm,
+clear light. On the height of the highest a
+diamond glitter caught the sun.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“My sister,” Tsi said, “has that palace over
+there. I think Orelle would take you in, if
+only to thwart Brann. You aren’t safe here.
+Fur your sake, it was a pity the port of entry
+you reached was here in Brann’s castle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“There have been others, then?” Miller
+asked. “A man named Van Hornung—did
+he come here?”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She shook her head, the rainbow hair
+catching the sunlight. “Not here. There
+are many castles in our land and most of
+them live at peace within and without. But
+not Brann’s.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Then why are you here?” Miller asked
+bluntly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She smiled an unhappy smile. “Most of
+us came because we felt as Brann does—we
+did not care very much any more. We
+wanted to follow our pleasures, being tired
+of other pursuits after so many thousands
+of years. All except me.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Thousands of.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. What do you mean?
+Why are you here then?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Her mouth turned down at the corners in
+a rueful smile.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Well—perhaps I too was warped before
+birth. I can’t leave Brann now. He needs
+me. That doesn’t matter to you. Brann’s
+dangerous—his heart is set on—on experiments
+that will need you to complete. We
+won’t talk about that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said, “I came here for a purpose.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I know. I read part of your mind while
+you lay asleep. You’re hunting for a treasure.
+We have it. Or perhaps I should say
+Orelle has it.” The violet eyes darkened.
+She hesitated.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps I’m sending you to Orelle for a
+purpose,” she said. “You can do me a great
+service there—and yourself too. That treasure
+you seek is—should be partly mine. You
+think of it as a power-source. To me it’s a
+doorway into something better than any of
+us knows.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Our father made it, long ago. Orelle has
+it now, though by rights she and I should
+share it. If you find a way to get that treasure,
+my friend, will you bring it to me?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Long-grooved habit-patterns in Miller’s
+mind made him say automatically, “And if I
+do?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She smiled. “If you don’t,” she said,
+“Brann will have you sooner or later. If I
+can get it I think I can—control Brann. If
+I can’t—well, you will be the first sufferer.
+I think you know that. You’ll do well to
+persuade Orelle if you can. Now—I’ve made
+a bargain with Brann. Don’t ask me what.
+You may learn, later.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Go to Orelle, watch your chance and be
+wary. If you ask for the treasure you’ll
+never get near it. Better not to speak of it
+but wait and watch. No one can read your
+mind unless you will it, now that you’re
+learning telepathy, but watch too that you
+let nothing slip from your thoughts to warn
+her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You want me to take her hospitality and
+then rob her?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Distress showed in Tsi’s face. “Oh, no! I
+ask only what’s mine, and even that only for
+long enough to control Brann. Then you
+may return the treasure to Orelle or strike a
+bargain with her over it. Five minutes with
+that in my hands is all I ask! Now here is
+something I’ve made for you out of your own
+possession. Hold out your wrist.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Staring, he obeyed. She unclosed her hand
+to show him his wristwatch in her palm.
+Smiling, she buckled the strap around his
+arm. “It isn’t quite as it was. I changed
+it. If you need me concentrate on this and
+speak to me in your mind. I’ll hear.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There were countless questions still unasked.
+Miller took a deep breath and began
+to formulate them in his mind. And then—Tsi
+vanished! The earth was gone from underfoot
+and he spun through golden emptiness,
+dropping, falling. The water-wall hung
+beneath him. He floated in midair a hundred
+feet above the crag-bordered stream at the
+cliffs bottom!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Panic struck him. Then Tsi’s reassuring
+thought said, “You are safe. This is teleportation.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He scarcely heard. An age-old instinctive
+fear chilled his middle. For a million years
+men have been afraid of falling. He could not
+now control that fear.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slowly he began to drop. He lost sight of
+Tsi and the golden trees and then of the
+water-wall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Under him the stream broadened.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He sank down at an angle—and felt solid
+ground beneath his feet.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was silence except for the whispering
+murmur of the stream.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER III<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>The World That Couldn’t Be</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller sat down on a rock and held
+his head in his hands. His thoughts
+were swimming. Cold, fresh air blew against
+his cheeks and he raised his face to meet that
+satisfying chill. It seemed to rouse him. He
+began to realize that he had been half asleep
+during the interview with Tsi, as though the
+mists of his slumber had still blanketed his
+senses. Otherwise he would scarcely have
+accepted this miraculous business.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Or was there another reason?</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He felt a desperate impulse to see Tsi
+again. She could answer his questions, if she
+would. And she had been the first friendly
+face he had seen in this terribly strange land.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He looked up and willed himself to rise.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Impossible, of course. <span class='it'>My own bootstraps</span>,
+he thought, with a wild sort of amusement.
+Were his feet pressing less heavily on the
+rock beneath him?</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And then, from above, came a high, thin
+laughter that was not truly audible—Brann!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Even before the mental voice came, that
+malicious, slow thought sent its familiar radiations
+before it. Something as recognizable
+as sound or color—more so!—fell down the
+cliff and crept coldly into Miller’s brain. He
+knew that unheard voice.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You had better not come up,” it said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller stood motionless, waiting. Instinctively
+he had fallen into the fighter’s
+crouch. But how useless ordinary precautions
+would be against this super-being!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He tried to close his mind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Go to Orelle, then,” it said. “I’ve made
+my bargain with Tsi and I’ll keep it. But
+she’s a fool. She always tries to close her
+mind to unpleasant things. She’ll never really
+admit we’re at war with her sister. As
+long as she doesn’t name it <span class='it'>war</span>, she thinks
+it’s something else.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Again the high laughter.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Go to Orelle,” Brann said. “I’m winning
+too easily. Perhaps they can use another
+fighter. Then they may be able to give me
+more of a battle. Though, if I chose, I could
+crush you with a thought—turn the air itself
+into a weight that would flatten you in an instant.
+But Orelle may think of a use for you.
+I can’t, except to divert myself with your reactions
+to certain experiments.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The unheard voice grew carelessly casual.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Too easy a victory is no victory at all.
+Go away.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Anger stirred in Miller at that calm assumption
+of superiority. Brann was thoroughly
+justified, of course, yet no man likes
+to be discounted utterly. With all his power
+Miller willed himself to rise, to float upward
+as easily as he had floated down—and this
+time he was certain that his feet lost contact
+with the earth.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then a weight like a great stone crushed
+down on him. Only for an instant did that
+frightful, unbearable pressure continue, while
+the veins swelled on Miller’s forehead and
+he heard his breath coming in deep, rasping
+gasps as he tried to resist the onslaught.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He went to his knees—down till he lay on
+his back, prostrate, helpless beneath that
+furious assault of the air itself. A screaming
+river of wind thundered down and the thin
+bushes in the gorge stirred and small landslides
+began as the air-river rushed in hurricane
+force from above.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann laughed idly again and obviously
+lost interest. The pressure vanished. Sweating,
+breathing hard, Miller struggled to his
+feet. He did not try teleportation again. For
+a moment he stared up at the cliff-rim. Then
+he turned and began to walk up the gorge in
+the direction of Orelle’s palace. His mouth
+was thin and his eyes held an angry glow.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>So Brann was winning too easily. Well—perhaps
+something could be done about that!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Far off across the glimmering valley a
+green hillside rolled high against the sky.
+The diamond twinkle that was the castle he
+must reach grew larger as he walked—grew
+larger with abnormal speed. Miller looked
+down and was surprised to find that measured
+by the pebbles and the flowers underfoot
+he was taking increasingly long steps.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Seven-league boots</span>, he thought, as he
+found himself striding like a giant through
+the softness of the grass. The earth slid by
+beneath his feet with dream-like fluidity.
+Now the diamond glitter of Orelle’s palace
+was dividing into hundreds of tinier glitters
+and he saw the walls of pale-colored glass
+rising fantastically upon the green height of
+the grass-clad mountain. A palace of glass—or
+ice.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Ice,” he thought suddenly. “Ice and
+snow and rocks. That’s all there is here.
+This is a dream. There’s no such world—there
+couldn’t be.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And then reason, stirring in his mind, argued,
+“Why not? How do we know the limits
+of possibility? Out of the few simple building
+blocks of the universe—out of neutrons,
+protons, electrons—everything we know is
+made. How much else may there be we can’t
+even perceive—unless transmutation takes
+place and the structure of a man’s nuclear
+patterns change to let him see.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“After all, you aren’t the first. There was
+Van Hornung and who knows how many before
+him? There was Tannhauser in the
+magical mountain of Venusburg—there was
+Thomas the Rhymer under the hill in fairyland.
+Paradise itself sounds like a distorted
+tale of just such a land as this. Legend remembers.
+You aren’t in any new world.
+You’re only exploring a very old one, and—”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Without warning the world dropped
+away under his feet and all logical
+progression of thoughts ceased abruptly. The
+sky was beneath him now and the shining
+world whirling dizzily over and over around
+him. But something firmer than gravity
+clasped him close so that there was no
+vertigo, even though the earth had forsaken
+him. Green translucence cradled him. There
+was a sensation of great speed, and then—</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Glass walls flashed past, spun, righted
+themselves gently. A solid pavement fitted
+itself against his soles and leveled off to the
+horizontal. He stood in a small, high room
+whose walls were row upon row of lenses,
+like bull’s-eye panes, all looking down upon
+him with—eyes? Black mechanical pupils
+that moved whenever he moved, following
+him as he walked toward the nearest wall.
+For an instant he felt stripped and naked under
+that multiple scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then a telepathic voice said, “You come
+from Brann.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked around wildly. He was
+alone. Almost automatically he said, “No!”
+aloud, so that the air shivered to the harsh
+sound. He wasn’t sure why he denied it.
+Brann had spoken of war.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Don’t lie,” the voice said coldly. “I can see
+the dust of Brann’s mountain on you. Do you
+think we can’t identify a simple thing like
+dust from a given mountain? It streams off
+you like purple light in the fluorescents.
+You come from Brann. Are you a spy?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tsi sent me,” Miller said. “Take me to
+Orelle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Orelle speaks,” the telepathic voice told
+him without emotion. “My sister loves me—but
+Tsi is no woman to trust. No one on
+Brann’s mountain is worth trusting or he
+wouldn’t be with Brann at all. What Tsi finds
+distasteful she denies existence. What do you
+want here?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller hesitated, glancing around the walls
+at the impassive, watching eyes of the—machines?
+Power, he wanted to say. Give me
+that power-source and I’ll go. But he was
+silent, remembering Tsi’s warning.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>How much of it he could believe he didn’t
+know now but it was second nature for him
+to keep his own counsel until he was sure
+enough to act. Orelle could not read his
+mind. Tsi had confessed that would be impossible
+once he began to master telepathic
+communication. He would be safe enough as
+long as he could give the right answers.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’m from the outside,” he offered hesitantly,
+thinking that hesitation and uncertainty
+might be his best defense until he
+learned more about this place. Exaggerate
+them, play up even more than was really
+genuine his bewilderment and confusion. “I—Tsi
+said you’d help me get oriented here.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The disembodied voice was silent for a
+brief, considering moment. Then it said, “I
+think you lie. However—are you willing to
+accept our search? Only after you’ve been
+proved weaponless can we admit you here.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>What could he say but yes? For an instant
+he remembered the watch Tsi had strapped
+to his wrist and what she had said of it. But
+it was for communication only—she had said—and
+surely she knew that a routine search
+would probably be made. She wouldn’t have
+branded him with something that would give
+him away to the first inspection. Or would
+she? What he had heard of Tsi did little to
+increase his confidence in her. Still .&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Search if you like,” he said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The room went dark. Miller, blinking in
+the sudden blindness, felt something like the
+vertigo he had not suffered in flight seize him
+relentlessly now he was on solid flooring. The
+air spun around him in a shrill diminishing
+vortex and it seemed to him limitless gulfs
+were opening underfoot and sucking him
+down, tight, tight, into a crushing spiral of
+darkness.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Out of the dark lights suddenly sprang into
+being, cold, blue lights that struck him like
+cold water—struck and penetrated. Looking
+down, he was aghast to see his own blood
+coursing red through transparent veins, to
+see his bones stand out cleanly white in their
+lacings of muscle, moving startlingly when he
+bent to stare.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The lights went out again. The darkness
+ceased to whirl. And then for one instant he
+felt all through his body an indescribable
+shifting, a terrible motion of inconceivable
+multiplicity. And in that flash of the instant
+he was <span class='it'>changed</span>.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The atoms went back into their normal pattern.
+That unstable isotope which was himself
+shed its changed form and he was as he
+had always been, solid, human, normal.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It was a hideous feeling. Until that moment
+he had not realized how much he had changed
+already, what nascent, nameless senses had
+begun to open up in him, pushing back horizons
+upon glories beyond glories. It was
+like deafness and blindness suddenly closing
+in about a normal man. It was worse—it was
+like having all the properties of death itself
+imposed upon the living. Miller held his
+breath, closed his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He felt the shift again as the isotope form
+renewed itself within him. The shifting
+stirred in the unthinkable myriads of the
+nuclei that formed him. He was whole again.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Once more the vortex whirled and roared
+in darkness. Then the dark lifted and he was
+standing beside a bank of thick yellow flowers
+under an arched vault of glass. The floor was
+tiled in brilliant colors, resilient to the foot.
+The flowery bank rising from it might be real
+earth and flowers or it might be a skillful
+imitation. For it was also a divan.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle lay upon it, smiling at him. He knew
+it was Orelle. He was aware, though he could
+not have explained how, of the telepathic
+emanation from her mind to his, individual
+as the pattern of the brain. She was beautiful—as
+everyone in this world seemed beautiful.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He saw something of Tsi’s features in
+hers but she was not dressed with the
+extravagance her sister affected. She was
+very slender, and her graceful body was
+sheathed tightly in something like clear satin
+that covered her to the wrists and ankles and
+flowed in long smooth lines over the flowers
+she lay on. She was pulling them idly and
+twirling the blossoms between her fingers.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Well, you are welcome,” she said, almost
+reluctantly, eyeing Miller with a smile that
+had wryness in it. “We found no weapons,
+though we searched you down to the very
+structure of the protons. To tell you the truth,
+we have no reason to trust you.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But Tsi must have had some reason for
+sending you here and I think we’re safer
+coping with her schemes at first hand than
+goading her on to try something more subtle
+still. Be sure you’re watched, my friend. Be
+careful what you do.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said wryly, “I’m not likely to do
+anything. From what I’ve seen of this place,
+I feel helpless. Do you all have the same
+powers as Tsi? How many of you are there?
+And what—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle shrugged. “We’re not used to hurry.
+Of course we have all the time we need.
+Your race doesn’t—even here. I can see your
+curiosity. And I’ll satisfy it, too. Yes, everyone
+here has the same powers, though
+naturally some are stronger than others.
+There is the telepathic factor, and—other
+things.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Bred into your race? But what about me?
+I’m not your kind.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said slowly, “A million years ago your
+ancestors were, though. Since then your people
+have gone down. It took eons to reach
+the peak when Atlantis and Mu were great
+cultures, and it will take eons more for your
+race to regain what they have lost. Only
+here, on this secret mountain, have we retained
+the strength of the old civilizations.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said. “But what happened?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Oh, the usual thing. Men took weapons
+they weren’t ready to use. In that time—try
+to understand this—the atomic structure of
+the world itself was different. You know
+that? That the atom can change—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I do indeed,” Miller told her grimly. “If
+electrons change, or if the nucleus changes,
+the structure changes too.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said, “Well, that was what happened.
+All earth is dull and dead now. Only here
+does the old special type of matter still exist.
+It throws off a certain radiation that makes it
+possible for us to be born and live as we are.
+In Atlantis there was experiment with nuclear
+structures, and transmutation.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“We have atomic power now,” Miller said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The beginnings of it. You’re merely beginning.
+It will be a long, long time before
+you stand where Atlantis once stood. First
+you must change the very structure of your
+world! Only then will <span class='it'>you</span> change, will the
+radiation-caused mutation alter you and give
+you the powers and senses you lost when a
+world went to war a millennium ago.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The fires of matter itself moved across the
+planet, and where it passed, structure altered
+and what was bright and shining and glorious
+became a dull, empty thing. Men lost their
+specialized, hard-won powers then. But the
+seeds remain latent in their bodies, recessive
+characteristics. Here, on the mountain, the
+recessive can become dominant for a little
+while. It is unstable, of course.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Then—I’m like you? Tsi told me but I
+couldn’t believe it. I’m a—a sort of superman?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Every gift has its price,” she said oddly.
+“There is beauty here but there is terror too.
+You must have noticed that you see with
+clearer eyes—the eyes of the mind.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” he said. “I’ve noticed that. Things
+are—shining, somehow.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It would be well if you remembered your
+own world,” Orelle said, after a little pause.
+Her eyes were troubled. “Your own atomic
+structure has altered but that can take place
+only once.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A man came into view through a glassy
+wall that melted at his approach, and solidified
+again behind him. He looked no older
+than Orelle, a firm-fleshed, smiling man
+whose vari-tinted hair lay smoothly across
+his scalp. But his eyes were old, grey and
+cloudy with the mists of incalculable centuries.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER IV<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>The Bomb</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Orelle—” he began. And then the
+aeon-misted eyes fell upon Miller,
+and a look of bewildered recognition seemed
+to grow in them. “This man,” he said uncertainly.
+“Should I know him, Orelle? Has
+he been here before, or.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” Suddenly the
+mists cleared from his eyes and he looked
+old no longer but resolute and certain.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I know him!” he said in a crisp voice.
+“His face was in the Time Pool. It meant
+danger. But the likelihood was so remote
+that—well, I dismissed it. I didn’t believe.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“What was the danger?” Orelle leaned
+forward anxiously, her satin skirts moving
+with a gentle rustle over the flowery bank
+where she sat.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The man shook his head. “You’ve seen the
+Time Pool, child. There are so many possibilities
+of the future—who can say in what
+ripple this man’s face floated for a moment
+before the bubble burst? But it was danger.
+I remember that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They turned in one motion and looked at
+Miller with wise, wary, thoughtful eyes, astonishingly
+alike in the two faces. He realized
+they must be closely akin, and both akin
+to Tsi, whom no one trusted far.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He said quickly, “If you can read the future
+you must know I’m not a man to break my
+promises—and I swear to you both I mean
+no harm.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The man made an impatient gesture. “The
+future is never that clear. There is no ‘must’
+in time—only ‘perhaps’.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tsi sent him,” Orelle said. “She must have
+had her reasons.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She sent me because of Brann,” Miller
+declared. The two nodded.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle said, “Well, sometimes she’s moved
+to save one of Brann’s victims. Sometimes I
+think she helps him in his—call them experiments—on
+those he captures. She’d like us to
+think only whims move her. But we know
+the thing that lies behind all she does. Llesi
+and I—we know.” She smiled grimly at the
+man beside her.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She wants the Power,” the man called
+Llesi said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller thought to himself, “So do I,” but
+aloud he said only, “The Power?” in a voice
+of innocent inquiry.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi nodded, his eyes fixed speculatively
+upon Miller as if he gazed through the mists
+of incalculable years.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“A toy my brother and I once made that
+became far more than a toy before we were
+finished. Now Tsi claims her share in her
+father’s treasure. These two are my brother’s
+children but sometimes I think Tsi has no
+blood of mine in her veins.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle said, “No, Llesi, she’s only weak. If
+Brann didn’t rule her so completely—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She’d be welcome to her heritage. But we
+know that to give her what she asks is to
+give it straight into Brann’s hands. And
+there’d be an end to this castle and all who
+live here.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Who is Brann?” Miller asked impatiently.
+“I’ve heard so much about him, I’ve even
+heard him speak. But I’ve never seen him.
+What does he look like?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle shook her head. Small bells she
+wore in her ears tinkled at the motion, and
+even the tiny sounds they made were vividly
+beautiful to Miller’s increasingly keen new
+senses.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said, “No one has seen him except Tsi.
+No one but she can tell you what he is. He
+receives his friends only in the dark or from
+behind curtains. Ever since he built that
+castle, centuries ago, he’s kept his secret hidden—whatever
+it may be. I should like to
+see him dead.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said it without passion. “Brann is true
+evil, perhaps pure evil in its most flawless
+form. He’s very wise and very powerful.
+I’m not sure why he chose us for his enemy
+but I only know now we must fight or be
+killed.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller made up his mind suddenly. “As I
+left his castle,” he said, “Brann spoke to me
+from beyond the wall. He said this was a fight
+he would win too easily. He told me to come
+to you as another fighter, to make the battle
+more interesting.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle leaned forward quickly on the
+flowery bank, her earrings tinkling musically.
+“He said that? You know, I’d have guessed
+the opposite.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’d have said Tsi sent you here knowing
+Brann would covet you for his experiments—knowing
+that with you here, he’d redouble
+his efforts to conquer us and drag you back.
+If his interest were flagging, that might be
+the best way to revive it against us and force
+her entry here. Because she’d do anything
+in the world to get her hands on the Power.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi interrupted her in a thoughtful voice.
+“She might send an envoy here armed with
+some secret weapon Brann could devise—something
+that could pass even our careful
+searching. Remember, Orelle, I’ve seen this
+man before in the Time Pool—this man’s
+face, and danger!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’ve given you my word I didn’t come to
+harm you,” Miller said, realizing that though
+he sailed close to the wind of truth in saying
+that, at least it was accurate as far as it went.
+“Still, I’d like to know more about this
+Power. Unless you—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He never finished. For suddenly there was
+a blast of appalling sound in the room, and a
+rush of white-hot fire that seemed to flow
+down his arm and burst in a blinding gush
+from his wrist.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>When he could see again, what he saw was
+stunning. For Llesi was collapsing where he
+stood, his knees buckling, his face strangely
+drained and empty as if he were dead before
+he struck the floor. There was a curious
+shimmering glow bathing him, sinking inward
+like a devouring acid.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle was on her feet, stumbling forward,
+and from all around figures were closing in
+through the glass that melted at their approach.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Blinded and deafened by a sound that he
+knew was not truly audible, Miller tried to
+spring back.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He could not move. The white dazzling
+flame still poured from him upon the falling
+Llesi. Louder and louder that unheard, cataclysmic
+shout roared through the room. Now
+Miller felt energy of some strange sort pouring
+from Orelle and the others—mental
+power, a silent, tremendous flood that beat
+upon the white flame and—snuffed it like a
+candle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The fire was gone. But Llesi had fallen.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A dozen men and women had crowded
+into the room by now, bright in their sleek
+rainbow garments. Two men fell to their
+knees beside Llesi.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle had swung toward Miller. Hot rage
+blazed tangibly from her—tangibly, for Miller’s
+mind winced beneath that telepathic
+red fury. Through the scarlet twisted a
+black thread—the thought and intention of
+death, cold black against crimson.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Orelle!” he cried desperately. “I didn’t—it
+was some trick!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He could not speak, even telepathically.
+For he could see nothing now but Orelle’s
+dark eyes, and they were expanding, growing
+into luminous pools that chilled him,
+and effectively paralyzed muscle and nerve
+and mind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Eerily a thought that was not his own
+moved suddenly in his frozen brain—moved
+and reached out toward Orelle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Wait, child, wait!</span>” the thought said. “<span class='it'>This
+is Llesi speaking.</span>”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>All must have heard it, for every head
+in the room turned sharply. The
+blinding pools that were Orelle’s eyes began
+to fade and dimly Miller could see again.
+In his mind that voice of another brain said,
+“<span class='it'>The bracelet on his wrist—take it!</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>No one stood near Miller but he felt a
+violent tug at his wristwatch, saw it torn
+free. It sprang through the air to Orelle as
+if thrown by an invisible hand. She spread
+her fingers and received it. But she was
+looking at Miller.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Llesi?” she said uncertainly, still staring
+into Miller’s eyes. “Llesi—you hear me?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Yes. Wait. I must speak with this man
+.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Miller .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. wait.</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle gestured. Llesi’s body was lifted
+without support and floated toward the
+bowery couch. It sank down gently. One of
+the men came forward and made a quick
+examination.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He isn’t dead. It’s stasis, of a sort. But
+I can’t communicate with him. Try it,
+Orelle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Llesi?” Orelle’s thought arrowed out.
+“<span class='it'>Llesi?</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller roused from his stupefied amazement.
+That fantastic voice in his brain was
+speaking quietly to himself alone.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Don’t fight me. They’ll kill you unless
+you obey me. Empty your mind, Miller. Let
+me speak through you. Now.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller listened to the thought that was
+not his, riding on the waves of his own
+telepathic mind, speaking to Orelle and the
+others. But he believed it spoke to himself
+as well.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“This must be Brann’s doing,” Llesi said.
+“The bracelet—when I guessed at a weapon
+the man Miller could have brought Tsi must
+somehow have been listening. Even our
+tests failed to find it but a weapon that
+bracelet must have been. Well, Brann failed
+but only thanks to you for smothering the
+weapon so soon. I’m not destroyed but I
+think it may be a long while before I can
+think or move in my own body.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But you can hear us, Llesi?” Orelle’s
+voice was soft.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Through this man—yes. This is a telepathic
+rapport with him. There must have
+been electronic contact at the crucial moment.
+Without Miller I would be cut off
+completely until my body mends again. I
+think it will in time. I know the sort of
+weapon Brann used. My body will have to
+absorb vital energy, to overcome the insulation
+of atomic stasis the weapon threw
+about me.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Now listen, because my strength is going.
+The mental must draw on the physical and
+my body’s an ember now. I must sleep and
+gather power. Brann will know what’s happened
+here—depend on it, he’ll strike while
+I’m still helpless. I must think—and rest.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle said, “We can handle Brann!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“We can handle him if I can lead you.
+Otherwise.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Take no risks. Remember,
+my only contact with you is through this man
+Miller. Brann will destroy him if he can.
+But the sword is two-edged. Through Miller
+I can fight if I must. Now let me rest.
+I must gather my strength, and think.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The thought trembled on the air—faded—and
+was gone into an enormous stillness.
+Miller was alone again in his own brain.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle stared at him, anger still bright in
+her mind but leashed anger now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“How much of this have you passed on to
+Brann already?” she demanded.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said, “I swear I didn’t know I was
+carrying a time-bomb like that. Tsi told me
+it was only a communication device she’d
+built into my watch. I can only say I’ll help
+you fight Brann in any way I can.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle came forward with quick steps, her
+satin robes rustling, and took Miller’s shoulders
+in a tight grip, reaching high with both
+hands to do so. Her eyes were close to his.
+She stared compellingly up at him and he
+felt the warm force of her mind probing his
+with angry emphasis.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tell me one thing—the truth,” she demanded.
+“<span class='it'>Are you Brann?</span>”</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER V<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>The Signal</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The stars were glittering rayed circles of
+colored fire in the night sky. Miller
+lay staring for what seemed a long while,
+wondering vaguely what had wakened him.
+The wall before his bed was clear glass
+through which the night sky seemed to look
+in at him with its countless silver eyes. He
+had never seen the stars before, he knew
+now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>With his other eyes, they had been only
+dots of brilliance, without pattern. Now he
+could see that there was indeed a pattern to
+their arrangement—one too vast for even
+his augmented mind to grasp but something
+he could recognize as being there, even
+though it lay outside the range of human
+understanding.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He could see colors change and glitter in
+the discs of light that had been only points
+without dimension to his old sight. He could
+even make out dimly the shapes of continents
+on one or two of the planets. And there
+was a strange, distant, ringing music, almost
+inaudible, circling through the dark vault
+above.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He knew now that it was no legend which
+told of the music of the spheres and the
+stars that sang together. Light-waves and
+sound-waves blended into a melody that was
+neither one nor the other, neither sight nor
+sound, but a beautiful medley of both.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Men in the old days must have heard it,”
+he thought to himself, half-asleep. “Maybe in
+ancient times they were still close enough to—<span class='it'>this</span>
+state—to catch the echoes of the old
+music.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Deep in the center of his drowsing mind
+a thought stirred that was not his own.
+“<span class='it'>Miller, Miller, are you awake?</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He framed the answer with an eerie feeling
+of double-mindedness. “Yes, Llesi. What
+is it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I want to talk to you. I’ve gathered
+enough strength now to last me awhile.
+What’s been happening? Are you safe?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller let a ripple of amusement run
+through his mind. “Thanks to you. Can
+you tell from my thoughts that I didn’t know
+what I was bringing into your castle? I
+didn’t mean to attack you.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I believe that—with reservations. Does
+Orelle?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She thought I was Brann. She may still
+think so though I hope I’ve convinced her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I can’t read your mind. But I must trust
+you—no more than I can avoid! Get up,
+Miller, and look toward Brann’s castle. I
+have a feeling of danger. I think that was
+what roused me. Something evil is coming
+our way.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Conscious of a slight chill at the gravity
+with which Llesi spoke, Miller rose. The
+floor was ineffably soft to his bare feet. He
+stepped out into the little glass bay that
+formed one side of the room. From there he
+could look down over the valley he had
+traversed that day. Far off lights glimmered
+at the height of a sheer cliff—Brann’s castle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Why—I can see in the dark!” he exclaimed
+in surprise, staring out at the soft,
+dim landscape that seemed to be lit by a
+soil of invisible starshine so that details were
+delicately visible as they had never been before.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes, yes,” Llesi’s mental voice said impatiently.
+“Turn your eyes to the left—I
+want to see that wall of the valley. There—now
+right.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The commands, couched in mental terms
+that took only a flashing fraction of the
+time words would have taken were almost
+like reflex commands from Miller’s own
+brain.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I think you’d better dress and go down
+to the Time Pool,” Llesi said at last. Miller
+could feel the profound uneasiness stirring
+in the disembodied mind that his own brain
+housed. “Hurry. There’s no guessing what
+unnatural thing Brann may have shaped to
+attack us. He wants you, Miller. Your coming
+brought our war to a climax and I know
+now he won’t stop until he gets you—or dies.
+It depends on you and me which thing happens.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a guard at Miller’s door—or
+the glass wall that melted like a door when
+he approached it. Llesi’s mental voice spoke
+and the guard nodded and followed down
+the long sloping ramp of the glass castle,
+through great, dim, echoing rooms, along
+corridors behind which the people of Orelle’s
+dwelling slept.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They came out at last into a garden in the
+heart of the castle. Circled by glass walls,
+it lay dim and fragrant around the broad
+shallow pool in its center. Starlight shimmered
+in changing patterns on the water
+that rippled slightly in the wind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller found himself glancing up toward
+the wall-top without being sure whether
+the impulse was his own or Llesi’s. In a moment
+he knew, for there was a whispering
+rush and in obedience to some command
+from his own brain—and from Llesi’s—a
+domed roof of glass moved across the garden,
+closing it in.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Now the starlight fell in prismed rays
+through the dome. It struck the pool in somehow
+focused patterns and the water seemed
+to respond to that unimaginably light pressure.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Circles formed where the rays struck,
+formed and spread outward in interlocking
+rings that seemed to gather momentum instead
+of losing it, so that they were seething
+together in a very short time, breaking over
+one another in tiny waves, tossing up bubbles
+and foam. The pool boiled in the cool
+starlight.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And among the boiling rings there were
+reflections. Pictures moved chaotically
+through one another, so rapidly and so bewilderingly
+that Miller grew dizzy as he
+watched. Once he thought he saw Tsi’s face
+with the rainbow hair disordered, streaming
+in the wind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Once he had a glimpse of himself, seen
+confusingly from the back, struggling against
+something that seemed to tower and stoop
+above him but the vision rolled under again
+before he could focus on it and the faces of
+strangers floated among bubbles to replace
+it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Is it real?” he asked Llesi inaudibly. “Is
+this the future?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was an impatient movement in his
+own mind. Llesi, who had been studying the
+pictures in the profoundest silence, said,
+“No—yes—partly. These are the likeliest
+futures. No one understands fully, but the
+theory is that somewhere in hyperspace all
+possible futures work themselves out from
+any given point.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“And the light-rays—the pictures of all
+that happens—move on out into space endlessly.
+When the glass dome is closed starlight,
+falling through the moving rays, projects
+these pictures back into the pool for
+anyone to read who knows how. Men from
+time everlasting have tried to read the future
+in the stars but you can see from this
+how difficult it is and how unreliable even
+a trained mind can be when it has only this
+to work from.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“One decision may alter all probable futures.
+And those are unstable, shifting and
+changing—no man can know the future with
+any certainty. But it’s possible to see dangers,
+sometimes, and prepare for them—though
+that may mean facing a worse peril
+later on. Wait—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the pool a ripple took form at the impact
+of a reflection and began to spread.
+It showed the picture of a shifting, cloudy
+mass moving against the translucent water—but
+moving with a directive purpose, Miller
+thought. The background took form. He
+saw himself and Orelle in miniature with
+the cloud no longer shifting but swooping
+purposively above them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Another ripple collided violently with the
+first and the picture vanished in a burst of
+bubbles. But it took shape again in the
+next moment, though different now, with a
+shift in background. The ripples raced over
+that image and washed it out with another,
+like a not-quite-identical copy. Then he
+saw the castle in which he stood and it was,
+he thought, collapsing into ruins.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>That changed. He saw himself in tiny reflections,
+facing Tsi— And then a ripple
+washed across the pool in which he saw his
+own face and Slade’s and there was something
+inexplicably terrible about both.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Shaken, he asked Llesi a mental question.
+Llesi answered him briefly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If part of what you just saw happens,
+other parts can’t happen. But you saw that
+cloudy pillar? It appeared too often against
+too many backgrounds to be very far off in
+space or time. Brann is sending a warrior
+against us. Not a human warrior. I think
+we can expect the cloudy thing we saw
+quite soon, in one or another of the versions
+we’ve been watching.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But what is it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. Something dangerous—that
+much you can be sure of. I think we
+can defeat it, once we discover what it is.
+So far we’ve always been able to defeat
+Brann’s warriors, no matter what form they
+had.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So far?” Miller asked. “And then someday—what?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Mentally Llesi shrugged. “Who knows? I,
+who read the future, realize better than most
+men that I have no way of guessing what is
+to come. I can see the possibilities here in
+the pool, I can foresee the worst dangers and
+prepare against them—but beyond that I
+can’t go. No. I don’t know what the outcome
+will be between Brann and me.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said with abrupt decision, “You’ve
+looked too long in the Time Pool! You’ve
+been depending on what you see there to tell
+you what to do. Why not take the future into
+your own hands?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a curious stillness in his brain
+at that, as if Llesi were suddenly wary and
+watchful. Finally the voice that shared his
+mind spoke cautiously.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“What do you suggest?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Someday, if I understand you, Brann
+may succeed at last in creating a kind of
+warrior you can’t overcome. I saw this
+castle falling in one of those pictures in the
+pool, so I know it’s possible—no, even probable,
+that this thing he’s sending, or maybe
+the one after it, will be the one to destroy
+you. It that right?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Still caution and distrust ruled Llesi’s
+mind, but there was reluctant interest in
+the mental voice that said, “Go on. What are
+you thinking about?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann wants one thing—the Power. Is
+that right?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The Power and yourself, now. Yes,”
+Llesi answered.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So he’ll keep on attacking until he gets
+one or both. Why haven’t you attacked him
+first?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Do you think we haven’t tried? Brann’s
+castle is invulnerable. We’ve failed and
+failed and failed again to force any entry by
+any means we know. But Brann’s failed,
+too, against us. It’s stalemate.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It needn’t be. I have an idea.” Miller
+hesitated. “I won’t tell you now. You
+wouldn’t accept it. Later on, if things go
+wrong, maybe you’ll be willing to listen.
+Maybe—”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>From across the Time Pool, in the dimness
+of the garden, Orelle’s mental voice
+said clearly, “Don’t go on, Miller. Or are
+you really Brann?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller had the curious sensation in his
+brain that both he and Llesi had actually
+moved in the center of his skull, as he spun
+toward the dark tree where she stood watching.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“How long have you been here, child?”
+Llesi said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Long enough. I saw the cloudy thing
+coming in the Pool. I know what we’ve got
+to face—but not with treachery to make it
+even worse than it is. Oh, Llesi, won’t you
+let me kill him?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not yet,” Llesi said with a deadly sort of
+practicality. “Not yet, because you need me
+in the fight, and I’m helpless without this
+man. Nor am I wholly sure he can’t be
+trusted, Orelle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I heard what he was trying to suggest.
+Something treacherous—some way to help
+Brann win at last. Llesi, I’m afraid! This
+isn’t safe. I—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A flash of soundless white light without
+warning illumined the garden and the whole
+castle around it, so that every figure stood
+out in abrupt silhouette against the whiteness.
+As suddenly as it came, it went out,
+leaving momentary blindness behind it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle caught her breath and said, “The
+signal! Llesi—hurry! Whatever it is, it
+must be almost here!”</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER VI<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Invasion</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They saw it first far off on the plain,
+moving toward them through the clear
+darkness. At first it seemed only a mist
+that drifted with the wind but, when the
+wind shifted, the grey fog came on. Its heart
+was thicker and dimly the eye could glimpse
+intricate matrices of light far inside the
+cloud, glittering patterns like diamond cobwebs
+arranged in lattice formations.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller and Orelle, with Llesi a bodiless
+awareness beside them, stood at a glass wall
+looking out over the plain toward Brann’s
+castle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi breathed softly. “I know that pattern.
+It’s a bad one. The thing’s brain and control
+and energy-source are in the bright
+matrix you see. Watch now.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The lattices shifted into new geometric
+formations and out of the cloud rippling,
+soft grey tentacles thrust, thickening as they
+moved.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“That would be stronger than iron once it
+took shape,” Llesi was saying. “The pseudopod
+principle, of course. It will be a hard
+thing to fight.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They stood watching in silence while the
+grey cloud flowed forward with increasing
+speed until it was nearly within reaching
+distance of the castle. Far off, across the valley,
+the lights of Brann’s walls watched like
+eyes. Miller spoke impatiently.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Aren’t you going to do anything? Can’t
+you stop the thing?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I could. But I want to see what new ideas
+Brann has incorporated into this. It’s better
+to know than to guess. If I destroy this he’ll
+just send another. I’m going to let it try the
+gate.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The cloud flowed up to the outer wall.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.
+paused .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. seemed to be considering the
+massive glass barrier before it. Then the
+lattices rearranged, glittering. A finger of
+greyness reached out, seeped through the
+crack between gate and wall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Metal groaned in the quiet of the night.
+That tiny pseudopod was expanding with
+monstrous force. The gate shivered, crumpled—gave
+way.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Radiant shimmers of color flared down
+from the walls upon the cloudy thing as
+Llesi’s batteries went into action at last. In
+his own brain Miller could feel Llesi’s tense
+watchfulness as he waited to see how the
+creature would meet them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Its lattice-work heart shifted like a kaleidoscope.
+The clouds thickened, grew dark. It
+shrank—expanded again—and moved on
+into the castle, a wreathed thing of velvety
+blackness that swallowed up the attacking
+lights and ignored them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Now they lost sight of it but they could
+hear, partly through the vibrations of the
+castle walls themselves and partly through
+the confused mental cries of the people
+below them, the progress the machine was
+making. A transparent wall gave way before
+it and the crash of the collapse sent a
+terrible, ringing music all through the castle.
+There was the silent voiceless cry of a man
+caught in its unimaginable grip—a cry that
+shivered up to an unbearable peak in the
+brains of all who heard, and then went
+silent with a suddenness that made the
+listeners reel.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle seized Miller’s arm in a tight grip.
+“Come with me,” she said. “Hurry!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She was half-running as she led the way
+through the dark castle which was yet so
+clearly visible to the sight. The confusing
+halls were strange to him but before they
+reached their goal Miller was leading the
+way, Llesi in his brain sending out the
+mental orders that guided him, so that the
+corridors and doors and sloping glass ramps
+seemed to swing around and to fly open before
+him without the need of knowledge on
+his part.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was pandemonium below. Miller
+could feel the tension in Llesi’s mind and in
+Orelle’s as they raced toward the breached
+wall of their fortress. Llesi was unsure.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Maybe this is the one,” he said, half to
+himself, as the translucent walls spun past.
+“Maybe this one we can’t fight.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>More than one wall had been breached by
+the time they reached the scene of the fight.
+The castle was filled with the jangling, musical
+crashes of shattered glass and the cries—some
+of them vocal cries now—of the defenders.
+But from the attacking machine
+itself no sound came.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller saw it through jagged walls and
+over the heads of the castle’s men—a great
+coagulated cloud, velvet-soft and iron-hard,
+the colored lights of the defenders’ strange
+weapons beating upon it in vain. There were
+colors in the weapons such as Miller had
+never seen.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Photon showers,” Llesi told him briefly.
+“Very high-frequency light waves with an
+energy increase great enough to utilize the
+mass of the light. Those latticed patterns
+would be smashed by the impact—if we
+could reach them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“When you deal with anything as delicate
+as this you need a delicate weapon. The lattices
+would be impervious to heavy weapons
+but the mass of light itself could crush the
+patterns if I had some way to penetrate the
+cloud.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The photons should do it,” Orelle said in
+a worried voice. “Always before—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann has something new this time.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The cloud rolled on. Through the shattered
+walls they saw it engulf the men in its
+path, moving like a velvet-soft juggernaut
+that crushed all before it. It pressed its misty
+surface against another wall—there was a
+surging all through the mass and, briefly, a
+pattern of clouded lights glimmered deep in
+the smoky bulk.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The castle rang with the jangled music of
+another falling wall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It’s making straight for the Power,”
+Orelle said, quietly now. “Llesi, you’ve got
+to stop it.”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt in his own brain Llesi’s
+rapid, orderly thoughts, marshalling
+the facts and measuring against them his
+varied resources. Then, decisively, he spoke.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“We must get to the Power first. I can stop
+it but we’ll have to hurry.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>To Miller it seemed as if the castle spun
+around him again as, in obedience to the
+orders in his brain, he whirled and ran with
+Orelle at his heels. The corridors opened
+up before them, unfamiliar pathways looking
+strangely familiar to the double vision in
+his mind. Another wall smashed into ringing
+fragments behind them as they ran.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>With his new night-sight Miller could see
+a long way through the translucent walls
+of the glass castle. Lights had been kindled
+through the building now so that the glimmers,
+far and near, reflecting beyond intervening
+barriers, made the whole castle glow
+bewilderingly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But ahead of them, growing larger as they
+neared, was one part of the building that
+even this new sight could not penetrate. It
+was a great cube whose walls gave back the
+vision opaquely, as it loomed before them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle pushed past him as they reached it,
+spread both hands flat upon the dark surface.
+It parted before her, melting away as
+the other walls melted to admit entry, and
+she pressed through into the hidden room.
+Miller followed her, his brain spinning with
+his own curiosity and the complicated planning
+of Llesi who shared it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Afterward Miller could never remember
+clearly what he had seen in that great dark
+room. He had only an impression in retrospect
+of an immense number of delicate
+shining things that might have been instruments—of
+countless rows of containers over
+which light seemed to ripple and play from
+within the colored holders, like votive lights
+seen far off down the aisle of a cathedral—of
+things without name or recognizable
+shape.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the center of the room, hanging in the
+heart of a filligreed framework which it did
+not seem to touch anywhere, a clear transparent
+cube three feet through floated free.
+Within it a tilted halo of—of stars?—rotated
+slowly through the solid substance of the
+block. And very faintly, Miller thought he
+could hear music as it turned, the same music
+he had caught from the night sky, subsonic
+but still perceptible to his new senses.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The Power,” Orelle said, nodding toward
+the cube.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller went forward slowly until he stood
+by the delicate framework within which the
+block floated. He could feel a slight pressure
+constantly beating out from the rotating
+stars, and at the same time a slight equal
+suction—an impossible sort of double force
+that did not equalize itself but kept him in
+a continual state of muscular readjustment
+to balance the opposite pulls while he stood
+within its range.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He was trying to control the excitement
+that poured through him at his nearness to
+this unimaginable thing he had come so far
+to find. Slade would give all he had to
+possess it for, inexplicable as it was, there
+was a harnessed power in the mysterious
+thing unlike any power at man’s disposal in
+the lower world beyond Peak Seven Hundred.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then, in his brain, Llesi said impatiently,
+“Later you can examine it. I need you now,
+if we’re going to stop Brann’s beast. Turn
+around—go to the far wall, reach up to that
+container of blue light and.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller’s conscious mind ceased to make
+sense out of the orders Llesi gave it but his
+body was obedient. He did not try to resist.
+He relaxed his own will and allowed Llesi
+full control, so that he was only dimly aware
+of what his body did in the next few minutes.
+His hands were busy, and there was an intense,
+quiet activity in his mind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>An activity that gradually began to slow.
+Lights swelled and sank beneath his busy
+fingers. Heat and cold and other stranger
+sensations he could not name bathed his
+hands and arms, beat against his intent face
+bent above them. But into his mind slowly a
+sense of frustration crept.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He made an effort to bring his own mind
+back into focus and asked Llesi a quick
+mental question.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know,” Llesi’s mind replied. “It
+isn’t easy. I think I can stop the thing but
+at a cost we can scarcely afford. And I could
+only do it once. Brann will know that. He’ll
+have only to send another just like it and—”
+The thought blanked out as if even in his
+subconsciousness Llesi did not want to shape
+the end of that idea.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller put forth greater effort and shrugged
+off the inertia of his mind which had been
+necessary while Llesi worked. He was keenly
+alert now. He had a job to do.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Will you listen to me?” he asked. “I think
+I’ve got an answer—if you’ll trust me.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi’s reply was wary but there was
+eagerness in it too. “What do you want us to
+do?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tell me first—can you duplicate this
+Power source?”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>With a double accord both Llesi and
+Miller turned to gaze at the floating
+cube with its lazily rotating halo of glittering
+light.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I can, yes,” Llesi said. “Why?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Easily? Soon?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not in time to stop Brann’s creature, no.
+It would take several hours.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Then,” Miller said, bracing himself for
+the storm he knew must follow his suggestion,
+“then I think you’ll have to let the
+thing downstairs take your Power and carry
+it back to Brann.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a mental explosion of fury and
+refusal.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>After it had died down, while Orelle still
+gazed at him with burning dark eyes full
+of distrust and hatred, and Llesi still smouldered
+angry thoughts in his brain, Miller
+went on.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I know—I know. In your place I’d feel
+the same. But look at it dispassionately if
+you can. Brann has you where he wants you
+now. You can only drive off this mechanism
+downstairs once and Brann can send another
+to take the Power source anyhow. If
+you stay passive you’re beaten. But listen
+to me—and maybe you can still win. Attack!
+Let the Power go—but follow it.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was silence for a moment, while the
+two others digested this idea. Then Orelle
+said, “We could only follow to Brann’s walls.
+We’ve never been able to get into his castle
+and—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you see, this is the only way! He’ll
+have to make room for the cube of the Power
+to enter. If we follow, there ought to be a
+way for us to force an entry too. Especially
+if he doesn’t suspect. Oh, I know—you think
+I <span class='it'>am</span> Brann. I wish there were some way to—wait!
+Could you read my mind if I opened
+it to you? Would you believe me then?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slowly Orelle said, “I think it might be
+possible. Are you willing to let me try?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller hesitated for a moment. There is a
+curious reluctance in the human mind to
+strip aside the last dark barrier that separates
+each individual from the world he
+lives in. The privacy of the mind is so jealously
+guarded a secret that not even if a man
+wills it can he wholly bare his thoughts to
+another. But unless Miller let Orelle into
+those innermost chambers there was little
+hope of success for any of them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If I don’t,” he thought, “Brann will win,
+in the end. And if he wins—well, I have
+more to lose than anyone here.” Aloud, in
+his mental voice, he said to Orelle, “Yes—try
+if you’re able.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She smiled a little. “Let your mind go
+blank. Don’t offer any resistance—no, none
+at all—you <span class='it'>are</span> resisting me, Miller. Let me
+have the truth. Brann—Brann .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. are you
+Brann? I must know.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Her eyes held his and, as they had done
+once before, began to grow larger and larger
+until they blotted out the room and were a
+dark pool in which his consciousness was
+sinking.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Thank you,” Orelle said quietly. “I’m
+sorry. You were telling me the truth all
+along—unless you’re more cunning than I
+think you are and know how to hide your
+secrets even deeper than the unconscious
+mind. I see that you mean us well. I see
+another thing, too—why you came here.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes. You had to know that anyhow. It
+was why I asked about duplicating the
+Power cube.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He wants to take it away with him,
+Llesi,” Orelle said and for the first time Miller
+realized that Orelle had been in even
+closer communion with his mind than Llesi
+himself, who dwelt in its very center. For
+Llesi had not seen the depths of it—he did
+not know what Orelle knew now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“To take it away?” Llesi demanded, incredulity
+in his thought. “But—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” Orelle said quickly. “We could
+arrange for that, Llesi. If this plan works
+well owe him more reward than that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But Orelle,” Llesi persisted, “doesn’t he
+understand? Doesn’t he know that—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The thought ceased abruptly, and Miller
+had the uneasy feeling that the two were
+communicating on some higher plane of
+silence where he could not follow them. He
+was suddenly uneasy. There was something
+here he didn’t understand. The two of them
+knew something—about himself?—that he
+did not yet know, something that affected his
+future intimately.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“What is it?” he demanded. “If I help you,
+I’ve a right to know.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle turned to him, her dark eyes gentle
+now, the hatred and mistrust gone out of
+them. “There isn’t time,” she said. “Listen.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Far off, but audible through the opaque
+walls, the tinkle of falling glass came clearly
+to them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It’s the machine,” Llesi said. “We haven’t
+time to waste now. If we follow your plan
+we mustn’t let it win too easily or Brann will
+suspect. Do you have any ideas of what to
+do after we enter Brann’s castle?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not yet,” Miller said almost absently.
+He was thinking hard about the strange
+little passage just ended. Until this moment
+he had not dared offer to open his whole
+mind for their inspection, because he had had
+nothing to bargain with. Inevitably Orelle
+would have seen that he wanted the Power
+and he had nothing to offer in return—until
+now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Well, it was a success in one way, but in
+another—failure? He couldn’t be sure. Oddly
+the balance had shifted and it was he who
+mistrusted his companions and they who
+believed at last that he could be depended
+on. Certainly they were hiding something
+vital from him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not yet,” he said again, forcing his mind
+to take up the immediate problem as the
+jangle of another falling barrier came more
+loudly through the walls. “I only know it’s
+easier to work on inspiration when you’re
+on the offensive—and once in Brann’s castle,
+we’ll need inspiration!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann’s—unbalanced. We know that.
+Push him farther off balance by attacking
+and maybe we’ll have an advantage. You
+know, there must be something important
+he’s hiding or he wouldn’t operate from the
+dark as he does. If we can see him face to
+face—well, who knows?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“When you say ‘we’,” Orelle interrupted,
+“whom do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Myself. Llesi and me.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“And Orelle,” the girl said quietly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Of course not! It’s going to be dangerous.
+Besides—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“No more dangerous to go than to wait for
+Brann’s vengeance if you fail. Tsi is my
+sister. I think I can control her and that
+should be a weapon you may need. You can’t
+take more than one or two with you if you
+hope to get in secretly so an army would do
+no good. But one companion—I think I could
+be useful to you, Miller.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Llesi,” Miller said to the voice in his
+brain, “what do you think?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was silence for a moment. “Let her
+come,” Llesi said. “What she says about Tsi
+is true enough. We may need her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the quiet a musical ringing of more
+breaking glass sounded clearer than before.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It’s coming,” Llesi said. “Now we have
+work to do. Are you ready, Miller? Take
+down that lens mounted on the tesseract and
+do as I tell you. We mustn’t let the machine
+win without a struggle.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER VII<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Battle of the Titans</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the light of earliest dawn they could
+see it rolling toward them far off across
+the plain. Crouching under the loom of
+Brann’s castle walls, Miller and Orelle waited
+almost in silence. It had seemed wisest to
+hurry ahead by teleportation and take shelter
+while Brann was presumably occupying all
+his powers with the direction of his mechanical
+warrior as it broke down the walls of the
+Power chamber and seized at last the thing
+he had sought so long.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Now the two watchers—three, for Llesi
+waited in Miller’s brain—saw the lazily
+turning halo of pointed lights which was the
+Power glowing through the cloudiness of
+the machine that carried it. Faintly the
+soundless music of its turning floated to their
+ears.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“We’ll have no time to waste,” Llesi
+warned them. “Brann’s wanted the Power
+for a purpose, you know. Once he learns how
+to use it there’ll be no hope of controlling
+him. Whatever we do we must do fast.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Can he learn quickly how to operate it?”
+Miller asked.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You’re thinking of yourself.” Llesi
+sounded amused. “Yes, it can be mastered
+without too much difficulty. But don’t think
+about it now, Miller. You have our promise.
+Be content with that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller stirred restlessly. “You’re hiding
+something. I’ve opened my mind to you,
+Orelle. If I deserve any reward for what
+I’m helping you do I deserve the truth from
+you. What is it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle shook her head. “Don’t ask us now.
+I’ll tell you if we come out of this alive.
+But it will only distract you now. I promise
+you it’s nothing that will affect our plans to
+conquer Brann. You need all your thoughts
+to do that. Afterward there’ll be time to talk
+of other things. Look—it’s nearly here. I
+wonder where Brann means to let it into the
+castle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The music of the turning stars was clearer
+now. Miller could feel remotely that extraordinary
+attraction-repulsion action which
+the Power constantly exerted—it was so near
+to them as they crouched in hiding. The
+machine rolled its cloudy bulk past them,
+almost brushing their faces with the periphery
+of its mist, and moved up over the
+jumble of rocks that bordered Brann’s castle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It pressed close against the surface of the
+wall. Light glowing down from that extraordinary
+barrier which ran like water and
+shone like fire cast colored shadows upon the
+mist, so that it was like a cumulus of sunset-lighted
+cloud as it flattened itself against
+the wall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller could see Orelle’s anxious face
+lighted with strange hues from the water-wall
+as she watched. He held his breath.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Within the sunset cloud patterns of latticed
+diamond moved and shifted. The wall surface
+dimmed as if a breath had blown upon it.
+Darkness grew where the dimness was—and
+suddenly a door had opened in the
+streaming water-light of the barrier.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Now!” Llesi breathed. “Now—follow it
+in!” She rushed forward.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was one breathless, heart-stopping
+moment when the rocks turned beneath their
+feel and Orelle, stumbling, nearly fell. The
+darkness of the opened door was already
+beginning to mist over with solidity when
+they reached it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Dangerous.” Llesi’s thought flashed
+through Miller’s brain, lightning-like, far
+faster than it takes to express in words. “If
+we miss the turn of the wall-substance we’ll
+be caught in the solid mass. Hurry! Never
+mind making a noise. Hurry!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It was like pushing through a thin jelly
+of darkness that gave way readily enough
+but thickened perceptibly even as they
+moved. “Don’t breathe!” Llesi warned them.
+“Hold your breath if you can—I think you’ll
+be through in a moment.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The substance of the wall was a stiff,
+scarcely yielding stuff by the time they
+pushed free into clear air. They had made it
+with nothing to spare. Orelle reached back
+to touch the surface with a wondering hand
+as soon as she caught her breath, and the
+way they had come was already a solid
+resilient surface that lost its resilience as
+she pressed it and became hard unyielding
+wall again.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They stood in a steeply sloping corridor
+that echoed with the thin voiceless music of
+the Power. Ahead of them the slowly spinning
+stars were visible through cloudy grey
+moving rapidly up the ramp away from
+them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Silently they followed.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They were far down under the main floors
+of the castle. On their left, as they climbed
+the steep ramp, the wall of flowing light
+moved ceaselessly, tracing their shadows in
+the inner wall of the corridor.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Somewhere there must be guards,”
+Orelle said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’d feel better if we’d seen some before
+now,” Llesi told them uneasily. “I have a
+feeling Brann may be more omniscient than
+we know.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The ramp came to a steep end and turned
+back upon itself in a second long zig-zag
+rise. They toiled up in the wake of the
+cloudy robot that carried the Power. Still
+no guards.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The ramp zig-zagged twice more and then
+there was a great open area, like a spacious
+chimney, rising overhead. The ramp had
+ended. Lightly, like the cloud it was, the
+robot left the ground. Teleportation carried
+it out of sight with startling swiftness. From
+high above the sound of voices drifted down
+the well, laughter, music.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Without a word Orelle put out her arm
+and clasped Miller’s hand. A moment later
+the ground no longer pressed his feet. The
+light-wall slid down past them like a Niagara
+of colored water.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The hall in which Brann held court was
+a vast domed circle. In the center of it
+rose a dais—and over the dais a curtain of
+darkness hung in straight columnar folds
+from the great height of the ceiling, veiling
+the platform. On its steps a woman was sitting,
+a stringed instrument on her knee.
+Rainbow hair swung forward about her
+shoulders as she bent her head and swept
+a hand across the strings. Wild, high music
+rang through the room.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Someone called, “Brann! Where is Brann?”
+and the woman looked up, smiling. It was
+Tsi.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He’ll be here. He’s coming. He expects
+guests,” she said and looked straight across
+the room toward the far wall where, in an
+alcove, the robot stood motionless, enshrouding
+the Power in a misty cloud.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Behind the robot, huddled against the alcove
+wall, Miller felt Orelle’s fingers tighten
+upon his. So long as the robot stood quiet,
+they were hidden behind its foggy outlines.
+When it moved—</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She means us,” Orelle whispered. “I
+know Tsi. What shall we do?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Wait,” Llesi counseled. “Listen.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the great room beyond, where Brann’s
+court of brilliantly robed men and women
+lounged on divans that seemed cushioned
+with substance as immaterial as mist, a discontented
+cry was beginning to rise. Many
+mental voices blended in the clamor now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann! Call him up, Tsi, call him up!
+Tell him the robot’s here. We want Brann
+again!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi swept the strings musically. “He’s still
+asleep, down below,” she said. “I’m not sure
+if I dare wake him yet. Shall I try?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Go down and call him,” someone urged,
+petulance in the voice that spoke. “We’ve
+waited too long already. Call him, Tsi!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi smiled. “His visitors must be here by
+now,” she said maliciously. “Yes, I’ll go down
+and waken Brann.” She laid the harp on the
+steps and rose.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>At the same moment Miller felt a surge
+of force suddenly burst into blinding violence
+in the center of his brain. For an instant he
+was stunned by the power that seemed to
+pour tangibly forth from him and through
+him.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The robot that had screened them from
+view rose from the floor, lightly as a cloud,
+drifted forward over the heads of the gaping
+audience and turned suddenly incandescent
+just above the dais where Tsi stood.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller knew it was Llesi’s doing, even
+before the quiet voice in his brain said, “This
+is the best way, after all. Attack. You were
+right, Miller. Now watch.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The robot was pure flame now. With a
+detached part of his mind Miller understood
+that it must have been deactivated once its
+mission was completed, so that any mind
+which teleported it now could do with it as
+it would. Llesi chose to destroy it in as
+spectacular a manner as he could contrive.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Out of the blinding cloud of its dissolution
+the cube of the Power fell, the singing halo
+in it turning with slow, indifferent steadiness.
+The transparent block struck the steps a yard
+from where Tsi stood. It struck—and crashed
+through, splitting the white marble from top
+to floor. Tsi staggered.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The crash rang from the high vaults above,
+rebounding from arch to arch in distant,
+diminishing echoes that came slowly back to
+the watcher below, long after the dais had
+ceased to vibrate.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi recovered her balance, turned on the
+shattered steps, looked straight across the
+hall to the alcove where Miller and Orelle
+stood.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She was shaken but she had not lost her
+poise.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Sister!” she said, “Welcome to Brann’s
+castle. Shall I call him to greet you?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>From Orelle a strong steady thought went
+out, compelling and quiet.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tsi, sister, you must do as you think best.
+Is it best for us that Brann be called?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The woman on the dais hesitated. Miller
+could see that the quiet confidence in Orelle’s
+mental voice has shaken her a little. He
+knew now what Orelle had meant when she
+said she could control Tsi.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It was a simple matter of sister speaking
+to sister with the voice of authority, calling
+back to mind the precepts of conscience and
+childhood training. Tsi was not, he thought,
+evil as Brann was evil. She was weak, certainly—and
+perhaps the weakness would
+stand them in good stead.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said uncertainly, “Orelle, I think perhaps—”
+But the voices from the audience
+around her, rising with sudden violence,
+drowned out whatever it was she meant to
+say. Miller was reminded of Roman audiences
+clamoring for blood in the arena.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann, <span class='it'>Brann</span>!” the voices howled.
+“Waken Brann! Go call him up to meet his
+guests! <span class='it'>Brann</span>, waken from your sleep!
+Brann, <span class='it'>Brann</span>, do you hear us?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi hesitated a moment longer. Miller was
+aware of a desperate stream of thought-waves
+pouring out from Orelle beside him
+but the noise of the assembled people was
+too strong for her. She could not get through
+to her sister. Tsi turned suddenly, putting
+both hands to her face, and stumbled up the
+broken steps toward the dais.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The long curtains that hung a hundred
+feet or more from the height of the ceiling
+trembled down all their dark length as she
+put them aside and vanished into the big
+tent they made, hiding the platform.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a moment’s profound silence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then Miller said quietly to Orelle, “Come
+on,” and, seizing her hand, strode forward
+across the floor. He had no idea what he
+meant to do but if he had come to attack
+then attack he must—not stand waiting for
+Brann to make an entrance on his throne.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Heads turned avidly to watch their
+progress across the great room. No
+one made a move to block their way, but
+eager eyes watched every motion they made
+and searched their faces for expression. This
+was the audience, Miller thought grimly, that
+would have watched Brann’s terrible “experiments”
+upon him if he had not escaped from
+the castle—with Tsi’s help. It was the audience,
+he realized, that might yet watch, if he
+failed.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi was silent in his brain, waiting.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They were almost at the steps when the
+curtains stirred as if a breath of wind had
+blown through the hall. Tsi’s voice came
+weakly from the hidden place, “Wait, Brann—you
+mustn’t—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But drowning out the feeble protest another
+voice sounded clear. Miller, hearing
+that thin, sweet, sneering pattern which was
+the mental voice he had heard before, the
+voice of Brann, felt a chill sliding down his
+spine and a tightening of all his muscles. It
+was a hateful, a frightening voice, evoking
+a picture of a hateful man.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Come out, Brann!” Miller said strongly.
+“Unless you’re afraid of us—come out!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Behind him in the hall two or three intrepid
+voices echoed the invitation. “Come
+out Brann! Let us see you. You aren’t
+afraid, Brann—come out!” He knew from
+that how high curiosity must run even in
+Brann’s stronghold and he realized that not
+even here, then, had Brann ever yet showed
+his face. It made him a little more confident.
+If Brann had so much to hide, then, there
+must be weaknesses behind that curtain
+upon which he could play.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He said, “Here’s the Power you wanted,
+Brann. We broke your platform but here it
+is waiting. Do you dare come out and look
+at it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann said nothing. But his thin, sardonic
+laughter rang silently through the hall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt it rasping his nerves like something
+tangible. He said roughly, “All right
+then—I’ll come and bring you out!” And he
+set his foot firmly on the lowest step.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A breath of excitement and anticipation
+ran rippling through the hall. Llesi was still
+silent. Orelle’s hand in Miller’s squeezed his
+fingers reassuringly. He mounted the second
+step, reached out his free hand for the curtain.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a deep, wrenching sound of
+stone against stone, and under his feet the
+steps lurched sickeningly. And then he was
+falling.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The walls spun. The floor tilted up to
+strike him a solid blow—that did not touch
+him. For some firm, supporting mind closed
+its protection around his body and he floated
+gently a dozen feet and came to solid footing
+again, dazed but unhurt.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The marble block of steps lay upturned
+upon the floor. Teleportation again, he realized.
+Brann had uprooted the steps he had
+climbed to prevent him from reaching the
+curtain. And someone—Llesi or Orelle—had
+reached out a mental beam to teleport him to
+safety.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann’s cold clear laughter rang silently
+through the hall. He had not yet spoken. He
+did not speak now but his derision was like
+vitriol to the ears and the mind. Brann was
+waiting.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Somehow Miller could sense
+that, as he waited, an eagerness and impatience
+went out from him toward that block
+of transparence on the broken steps, where
+the halo of the Power revolved on its singing
+axis.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi realized it in the same instant and
+Miller felt in his brain the beginnings of
+some plan take shape—too late. For now
+there was a strange heaviness in the very air
+about him—a familiar heaviness.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. This
+was the weapon Brann had used on him once
+before, turning the air itself to a crushing
+weight that had all but smashed his ribs in
+upon the laboring lungs.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He felt his knees buckle under that sudden,
+overwhelming pressure. The air screamed
+around him and the vast hanging curtains of
+the dais billowed with a serpentine motion
+as displaced air moved with hurricane suddenness
+through the great room. Miller’s
+breath was stopped in his chest by that unbearable
+pressure. His ears sang and the
+room swam redly before him. Brann’s careless
+laughter was a distant ripple of sound.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Power from outside himself gathered in
+Miller’s brain, gathered and spilled over in a
+wave like molten flame. He felt it gush out
+toward the platform where Brann sat hidden.
+But he was blind and deaf with the
+crushing weight of that suddenly ponderable
+air.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Even above his own deafness and the
+shriek of the unnatural wind in the room he
+heard the scream of riven marble. And the
+weight upon him lessened a little. He could
+see again. He could see the great block of
+stone uprooted with jagged edges from the
+broken floor at the foot of Brann’s dais.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It seemed to tear itself free, to leap into the
+air of its own volition—to hurtle toward
+Brann’s curtains as if Brann’s castle itself
+had suddenly turned upon him with great
+jagged stone fangs. In his brain Miller could
+feel the tremendous, concentrated effort of
+Llesi’s teleportation, balancing the marble
+weapon and guiding it on its course.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The weight upon him ceased abruptly. The
+release was so sudden that the congested
+blood drained from Miller’s brain and for an
+instant the great room swam before him. In
+that moment of faltering the hurtling marble
+fragment faltered too and Llesi and Miller
+together struggled with the faintness of
+Miller’s overtaxed brain.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann seized the opening that brief
+hesitation gave him. He could not stop
+the flying weapon but he could block it.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.
+A broken segment of the marble steps flew
+up in the path of the oncoming boulder,
+grated against it, deflected its course.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The two struck together upon the dais
+steps and thundered down them with a
+ponderous sort of deliberation, bounding
+from step to step, their echoes rolling from
+the high ceiling. They went crashing across
+the floor, ploughing into the divans where
+Brann’s court had lain watching this unexpected
+sight.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The screams of the watchers as the great
+marble blocks rolled down upon them added
+a frenzied accompaniment to the echoes of
+thunder wakened by the stone itself. The
+room was a tumult of sound re-echoing upon
+sound.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt a renewed outpouring of Llesi’s
+power move in his brain. He saw a gigantic
+marble pillar across the room stagger suddenly
+on its base, crack across, lean majestically
+outward and fall. But it did not
+strike the floor. Instead it hurtled headlong,
+jagged end first, toward the dais.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Above it the ceiling buckled. There was a
+terrible shriek of metal upon stone as the
+vaulted roof gave way. But the falling debris,
+in turn, did not strike the floor. Deflected in
+a rain of shattered marble, it moved to intercept
+the flying pillar. Column and broken
+stone together crashed to the ground at the
+very foot of Brann’s dais.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The great hall was full of the shrieks of
+the scattering court, the cries of men caught
+beneath the falling ceiling, the uproar of echo
+upon echo as Brann’s throne room collapsed
+in thunderous noise upon its own floor.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>When the thunder ceased all who could
+flee had vanished. Half the ceiling lay in
+fragments upon the floor and Miller stood
+dizzily looking up at the dais whose long
+curtains still billowed in the wind. Brann was
+silent for a moment as if gathering his resources
+for another try. And Llesi was
+whispering,</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“My strength is failing, Miller. I can’t keep
+it up much longer. I’m going to try one last
+thing. I’ve got to know what it is Brann’s hiding.
+Help me if you can—and watch!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>For an instant there was silence. Then,
+from far overhead, a long shudder began and
+rippled down the length of those vast hanging
+curtains which shrouded Brann’s dais.
+Stone groaned deeply upon stone in the
+ceiling.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>From the hidden platform Brann shrieked
+a soundless, “<span class='it'>No!</span>” as the block from which
+the curtains hung tore itself free of the vault
+above and came crashing down to rebound
+from the shattering pavement.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The curtains themselves fell far more
+slowly. Like smoke they wavered in the air,
+collapsing softly, deliberately, parting to one
+side and the other.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller could see Brann trying to stop that
+fall. Invisibly the forces of his mind seemed
+to claw at their drifting lengths. But there
+was something wrong now in Brann’s mind.
+Even Miller could sense it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A dissolution was taking place that the
+mind felt and shrank from. Something worse
+than hysteria, more frightening than fear itself.
+Llesi was suddenly intent and Orelle
+caught her breath.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Like smoke the last fragments of the curtains
+parted, lying to left and right along the
+broken floor, far out, in long swaths of
+shadow.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>On the platform stood Brann.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The figure that had terrorized such a
+multitude for so long stood swaying, clutching
+a black cloak about it as if to hide the
+shape of the body beneath. The face was
+contorted into a terrible grimace of anger
+and cold grinning hate. But the face itself
+was one they had all seen before.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It was the face of Tsi.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Her eyes were closed. She did not look at
+them nor speak nor move. And, Miller
+thought to himself, as Brann perhaps she
+had never opened her eyes. As Brann perhaps
+that grimace of chill hate always distorted
+her features. For it was clear to them
+all now that Tsi was mad.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Schizophrenia,” Miller thought automatically.
+“Split personality.” But there was
+no answering thought from Llesi or from
+Orelle. Stunned amazement held them both
+frozen.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi turned her unseeing eyes to Orelle. In
+Brann’s thin, cold, high-pitched voice-pattern
+she said, “Now you know. Now
+you’ve seen Brann. But before I kill you
+both, tell me—Orelle, <span class='it'>where is Tsi?</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt a cold shudder ripple over him.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER VIII<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>The Consuming Fire</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>At the same moment he realized that
+Orelle and Llesi could not help him
+against—Brann. Their thoughts came into
+his mind with a stunned, incredulous tinge
+of astonishment, a blank bafflement that,
+strangely, seemed to leave them helpless.
+And Miller thought he knew why.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle and Llesi and all their race had
+been conditioned to mental perfection. Never
+before in their history, he sensed, had there
+been any case of mental aberration. The
+race had been too perfect for that. And now,
+faced with the pattern of schizophrenic split-personality,
+they were utterly unable to comprehend
+its meaning. It was too alien to
+them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Insanity had never before existed in
+Orelle’s race.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller sent a frantic message to Llesi—inchoate
+confused memory-pictures from his
+scant knowledge of psycho-therapy. But
+Llesi did not understand. Instead he suddenly
+closed his mind. And, beside Miller,
+Orelle, too, closed her mind against a concept
+so shocking to this race that worshiped
+mental perfection that they could not consciously
+face it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The blind figure on the dais bent forward.
+“Orelle.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” it said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>So Brann did not know that the other half
+of his mind belonged to Tsi. Naturally!
+Brann would not know that he was a half,
+an incomplete split personality. Nor would
+Tsi know that Brann was part of herself.
+What curious warp in the inherited genes
+had brought about this cleavage Miller never
+knew, but he did not think about that now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He stepped forward.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann!” he called.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So you are back.” The thought came
+coldly into his mind. “Well, the machine I
+tricked you into carrying failed to kill Llesi
+but I’ll remedy that soon enough. As for
+you.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” Thin mental laughter mocked
+Miller.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He felt sweat crawling down his forehead.
+“Wait,” he thought urgently. “I can tell you
+where Tsi is.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He sensed a hesitancy and then an urgent,
+straining question.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Where? <span class='it'>Where is she?</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You are—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt the mind on the dais close swiftly
+against the thought. Brann would not let
+himself listen to the truth. He could not.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann thought. “Well? Answer me?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Troubled, uncomprehending, Orelle and
+Llesi waited and listened. And suddenly
+Miller knew the answer. He unbuckled the
+wrist-watch from his arm. Orelle had returned
+it to him, the deadly lightning machine
+removed. As a timepiece it was
+useless but habit had made Miller keep the
+watch.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Take this,” he said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann—Tsi—waited.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller held it up. “It’s not dangerous any
+more. Can’t you tell that?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“A trick. You know nothing of what I wish
+to know. Why should I waste time on any
+of you?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If you want to find Tsi,” Miller thought,
+“you must take this thing. Unless you’re
+afraid to find her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The watch spun from his hand and shot
+glittering across the room. It was in Brann’s
+hand.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller drew a long breath. “Turn it over.
+That’s it. Hold it up before your face. Yes.
+Now .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. open your eyes.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“My eyes will not open.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Open them!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“They have never opened.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tension sang through the still air. Miller
+felt Orelle’s sudden movement toward him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If you open your eyes you will find Tsi.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>That was the gap in the armor. That was
+the one thing that could pierce Brann’s insane
+half-mind. The blind white eyelids
+quivered .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. the long lashes lifted, slowly,
+slowly.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann’s eyes looked into the polished steel
+back of the watch. In that tiny mirror
+Brann’s eyes looked into—Tsi’s!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi’s eyes—wide, horrified—stared into
+Brann’s!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was no protection against the mental
+avalanche that roared out from that rocking,
+screaming mind—the two minds—in the single
+body of Tsi. For the first time Brann saw
+the girl he had searched for since his strange
+birth. And for the first time Tsi saw her own
+face twisted, distorted, into the grimace of
+chilly hatred that was irrevocably stamped
+on Brann’s features.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But what Miller felt was—pity. It was the
+basic principle of mental therapy—making
+the patient face his problem squarely. But
+no ordinary human schizophrenic had ever
+thus had the curtains of his brain ripped
+away with such sudden violence. The normal
+human brain has automatic safeguards
+against such intrusion.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi was of another race—a race mentally
+developed to a tremendously high standard.
+She had been warped before birth though
+the madness had remained latent for a long
+time—but her mind was nevertheless powerful
+enough to be able to face the shocking
+incredible truth.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She had never been evil, as was Brann—weak,
+yes, but incapable of that cold
+cruelty her alter ego loved.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Face to face, for a thunderous, eternity-long
+instant, the two stood—good and evil
+mated, monstrously wedded in one body and
+one brain. The silence roared.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then the hand that held the mirror
+dropped. The face of Tsi swung round so
+that her mad, wild, terrified eyes met Miller’s—and
+he read destruction there. The double
+mind looked out of those eyes into his and
+for an instant it was as if both Tsi and Brann
+spoke to him—as he had first heard them
+speaking when he woke in this incredible
+world.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But then they had not known the truth.
+It had been a split mind talking to itself,
+good and evil debating together and not
+guessing they were housed in a single brain.
+Now they knew. At some point in the past
+the evil inherent in Tsi had lost its battle
+with the good in her—and pulled free of the
+control of her conscious mind. It had called
+itself by a new name, given itself a masculine
+identity to disguise its origin still further,
+grown so strong that not even Tsi could
+control it any longer.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann was abhorrent to Tsi. And to Brann
+the knowledge that Tsi was himself was a
+thing he could not face. The split mind,
+rocking on its foundation, reached out into
+Miller’s mind with a mad destructive violence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You brought ruin on me!” cried the double
+voice. “You wrecked my castle and my
+life! You must die and all your kind with
+you!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The eyes caught Miller’s in a drowning
+stare. He could not look away, and the eyes
+were growing larger and larger, engulfing
+him in darkness and in the darkness the
+madness of two minds swirled terribly, carrying
+away his own sanity on those dreadful,
+reasonless vortices.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller could no longer see Orelle but he
+heard her moan, a soft whimper of helpless
+terror. “I can’t—help you,” she was saying
+from far away. “I can’t fight the two of
+them. Llesi—<span class='it'>Llesi</span>—where are you?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>For a moment there was no answer. The
+mad twin-mind buffeted at Miller’s from
+both sides at once, pulling it asunder, spinning
+in two opposite directions and straining
+him apart between them. No single mind
+could withstand the doubled strength of that
+split brain dragging him down to madness.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And then, suddenly, he was not fighting
+alone. Out of the darkness Llesi’s mind came
+swiftly, intangibly, yet with a strength as if
+the man himself had set his shoulder against
+Miller’s, bracing him against the whirlpool
+whose vortex led down to insanity.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Perhaps no other mind in existence could
+have stood against the riven mind of Brann-Tsi.
+But in Miller’s brain too a double mind
+had been housed—his own and Llesi’s. They
+had learned to work together. And now they
+could fight.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a voiceless scream of fury—Brann’s
+thin, high, sweet-toned rage. And
+the buffeting redoubled from two sides at
+once. But now there were two minds to meet
+the attack. Miller drew a deep breath and
+set himself stubbornly against the whirling
+drag that was pulling him down to darkness.
+He could feel the strong resistance of Llesi’s
+mind, fighting beside his own, struggling
+hard against the double pull.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>For a timeless moment the vortex held
+them both. In that roaring silence, while
+madness raved about them, neither side
+seemed able to shake the others. Attacker
+and attacked stood matched so perfectly that
+the balance might have held forever with
+the fury of the split mind screaming its
+soundless cry in infinity.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then the scream shivered up to a peak of
+madness that no sane mind could sustain.
+And while the vortex still rang with it .&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The robed figure on the dais moved suddenly.
+Miller’s blindness lifted again. He
+could see the dark robe stream back from
+Tsi’s rainbow garments as she plunged down
+the steps toward the crystal block, where the
+halo of the Power turned in its singing silence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A bolt of the mind reached out before her
+toward the halo—a summoning bolt. One
+quivering thought shook the air of the room.
+Death was the thought. Tsi and Brann could
+not live together in the same brain and face
+the knowledge of their oneness. There was
+no choice but death for them now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The bolt of white lightning blazed up to
+meet that plunging figure in answer to its
+summons. Blazed up and swallowed Tsi—and
+Brann.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a shimmer in the air where the
+body and the twin mind had hovered. And
+then—nothing.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER IX<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Fairy Gold</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller found himself sitting on the
+broken marble steps with his head in
+his hands. How long a time had passed he
+had no idea. Orelle’s touch on his shoulder
+made him look up at last. She was smiling a
+little but her eyes were grave.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Are you all right now?” she asked.
+“You’re safe. We’re all safe, thanks to you.
+I’m glad I’ve never known your world if you
+could understand a thing like that—that
+madness. But I’m glad you did understand it—for
+our sakes. You saved us, Miller. You
+can ask your own reward.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He looked at her groggily, thinking with
+incongruous steadiness that he was probably
+suffering from shock now and not really responsible.
+But he glanced involuntarily
+toward the crystal block of the Power.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle’s smile was sad. “Yes,” she said,
+“we can make you a duplicate if you ask us.
+But it would be effort wasted in the end.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He stared at her, not understanding. Then
+his eyes went beyond her to the shattered
+wall and the beautiful shining day outside.
+New senses were burgeoning in him and he
+could sense in that glittering sunlight colors
+and sounds and glories beyond anything
+words could tell.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The air was a tangible thing against his
+cheek, velvet soft, sweeter than perfume.
+He was beginning to perceive new shapes
+moving dimly on the edge of vision, as if
+there were a whole unknown world just now
+slowly unveiling before his freshly opened
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller laughed suddenly. “I know what
+you mean,” he said. “I must be stupid, not to
+have seen it until now. Of course I won’t
+want a duplicate of the Power. Why should
+I? I’m not going back to Slade. I’d be crazy
+if I left a paradise like this. What good
+would a duplicate do me when I’m staying on
+here—forever!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle shook her shining head. Her eyes
+were very sad. In a gentle voice she began to
+speak. And Llesi’s voice, gentle too in the
+dimness of his mind, spoke with her.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Very quietly they told him the truth.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So you know now it was fairy gold,” the
+Belgian said, sliding the bottle across the
+table. “Well, I could not have made you believe.
+You had to experience it yourself.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked at nothing.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Van Hornung glanced toward the fire,
+shivered and reached out a stubby finger
+toward the dull cube on the table between
+them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Drink,” he said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slowly Miller obeyed. There was a long
+silence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Finally Van Hornung said, “It is—still the
+same up there? The castles and the wonderful
+people and the—colors? But it would be.
+The colors—I was an artist once. I think
+the colors meant most to me. There were so
+many we do not know.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Orelle told me,” Miller said dully. “I
+wouldn’t believe her. I didn’t want to believe
+her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“There are the legends, Miller,” Van
+Hornung said. “You and I aren’t the first.
+We won’t be the last. There have always been
+stories of humans who visit Paradise for a
+little while—and leave again. I’m no scientist.
+I never knew why—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller glanced up. His eyes brightened a
+little.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It was an unstable compound,” he said.
+“There was an atomic change, you see. The
+Path does that. Your atomic structure shifts
+to something quite different. When you’re
+like that you can talk with your mind, without
+words.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I know,” the Belgian said. “I do not talk
+much any more. It is never the same, after
+that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Will it ever.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. ?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Van Hornung said quietly, “We were like
+gods for a little while. We ate the food of the
+gods. Can we expect mortal food to please us
+after that?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller nodded in silence. To go back to
+his old world, to live his old life would be
+meaningless now—like going back to blindness
+after knowing sight in a brighter world
+than this. He had had a taste of this once, in
+Orelle’s castle, while they searched him with
+piercing electronic eyes for the weapon he
+did not know he carried. That had been an
+illusion and a foretaste of this death-in-life
+which he must live now until he died—as the
+Belgian had been living.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He remembered how the mountain-top
+world had begun to fade around
+him, Orelle’s pitying face growing ghostlike,
+the glass walls of her castle turning to mist
+and the wonderful nameless colors of her
+gardens thinning away to nothingness while
+the snow-covered peaks took shape solidly
+behind them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There had been a little time longer, after
+Brann’s defeat, for him to enjoy the last days
+of Paradise. He had refused to believe it
+could end at all. He had shut his mind to the
+instability of his change, to the fact that he
+had been himself an isotope created by a
+temporary radioactive atomic shift so that,
+when the quantum energy was released, the
+atomic pattern must revert to its former
+state. And in one terrible, fading instant the
+familiar prison of his own senses closed
+around him once more as the lovely world
+of Peak Seven Hundred went volatile and
+vanished.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The last thing to go was the little cube
+Llesi had made for him with the singing halo
+of the Power turning in miniature within it.
+When the waste of glacial ice was all that
+remained of the invisible castle he went slowly
+down the mountain again, walking, he
+knew, through fields of glowing flowers he
+could never see again. And now it was the
+ice and snow that seemed illusion—the vanished
+summer world the only real thing in
+life.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He kept taking the cube out and looking
+at it as he descended the lower slopes. After
+awhile it seemed dimmer than he remembered,
+the singing fainter. When he reached
+the valley the glow was gone entirely. The
+cube was non-radioactive lead, inert and
+useless. Fairy gold, the legends said, was
+glittering in your hands when the immortals
+put it there—but when you looked again it
+had always turned to leaves and pebbles.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Van Hornung said, “What will you do
+now?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller shrugged. “Is anything worth doing?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not for me, any longer. After you have
+seen the colors and used your mind to its
+fullest, there is nothing worth the effort of
+doing in this world below. Stay with me if
+you like. It does not matter.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Behind Miller the door opened quietly.
+Slade walked into the room. When he saw
+Miller his jaw dropped slightly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Miller!</span> What’s the matter with you?
+When did you get in?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Just now.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Did you get it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Get what?” Miller said dully.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The energy-source!” Slade thrust his face
+down to Miller’s, the feral eyes narrowing,
+the thin lips tight. Seeing him, Miller
+thought suddenly of Brann. The same irresponsible
+power, dangerous, hungry, admitting
+no discipline but its own desires.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He was glad, in a casual way, that Slade
+could never use the Power. Slade could do
+harm enough, had done more than harm
+enough, with only his own driving unscrupulous
+brain to guide him. Once armed with a
+thing like the Power.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I left it where I found it,” Miller said indifferently.
+“Up on the Peak.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“How can we get it?” Slade demanded
+urgently. “An expedition?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You can have it for the asking—up there.”
+A slow idea took shape in Miller’s mind.
+Sardonically he said, “Look for the red path
+at the foot of the cliff. Follow it. Go on up
+and you’ll have no trouble finding your energy-source.
+That’s all I’m going to say.
+We’re through, Slade. Get out.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And he would say no more though it was
+ten minutes before Slade exhausted his
+threats and arguments and left. Miller
+smiled wryly at the Belgian.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He’ll go. You couldn’t keep him away.
+And you know what will happen.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“What happened to us. But—why did you
+send him?”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller stared out the window at the
+snowy cone of Peak Seven Hundred,
+white and empty against the sky.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I hated Slade once,” he said. “That
+doesn’t matter how. But where men like
+Slade go there’s cruelty and misery and suffering.
+I can at least spare a few other men
+what I’ve gone through from him. He’ll come
+back—as we are. As for the Power—yes,
+it’s fairy gold.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The Belgian said softly, “.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.’amid such
+greater glories that we are worse than
+blind.’ ”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller nodded. “The Power and the Glory.
+Some day our race may achieve it. But it has
+to be earned.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He reached for the bottle.</p>
+
+
+
+<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 68425 ***</div>
+  </body>
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #68425 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/68425)
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook of The power and the glory, by Henry
+Kuttner
+
+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 power and the glory
+
+Author: Henry Kuttner
+
+Release Date: June 29, 2022 [eBook #68425]
+
+Language: English
+
+Produced by: Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan, Alex White & the online
+             Distributed Proofreaders Canada team at
+             https://www.pgdpcanada.net
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POWER AND THE GLORY ***
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                        The Power and the Glory
+
+                           By HENRY KUTTNER
+
+           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
+               Thrilling Wonder Stories, December 1947.
+         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
+         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER I
+                            _Transmutation_
+
+
+Carrying the coffee-pot, the Belgian shuffled out of the room. The door
+thumped behind him. Miller met Slade’s inquiring stare and shrugged.
+
+“So he’s crazy,” Miller said.
+
+Slade drew down the corners of his thin mouth. “Maybe he is. But I’ve
+got other sources of information, remember. I’m sure
+there’s—something—up on Peak Seven Hundred. Something plenty valuable.
+You’re going to find it for me.” His teeth clicked on the last word.
+
+“Am I?” Miller said sourly.
+
+“Suit yourself. Anytime you feel like it you can go back to the States.”
+There was a threat in the way he said it.
+
+Miller said, “Sure. And then you send a few telegrams . . . It was a
+sweet little frame you fixed up on me. A murder rap—”
+
+“Well,” Slade interrupted, “_that_ happened to be a frame. I’ve got to
+protect myself, though, in case you ever want to turn State’s evidence.”
+
+“I’ve done your dirty work for ten years,” Miller growled. “It’s too
+late now to try crossing you up. But we’re both guilty of one particular
+murder, Slade. A guy named Miller who was an honest lawyer, ten years
+ago. I feel sorry for the poor sucker.”
+
+Slade’s strong, implacable face turned away from him.
+
+“The man with the gun has the advantage. Up on Peak Seven Hundred
+there’s the biggest gun in the world—I think. Something’s sending out
+terrific power-radiations. I’m no scientist, but I’ve got men working
+for me who are. If I can get that—weapon—from the Peak, I can write my
+own ticket.”
+
+Miller looked at him curiously. He had to admit Slade’s strength, his
+powerful will. Head of a slightly criminal and completely unscrupulous
+political empire for a decade now, Slade was growing restive, reaching
+out for new worlds to conquer.
+
+Word of this power-source on the peak in Alaska had sounded fantastic
+even back in the States but it seemed to fascinate Slade, who could
+afford to indulge his whims. And he could afford to trust Miller—to a
+certain extent. Miller was in Slade’s hands and knew it.
+
+They both looked up as the Belgian came back into the room, carrying a
+fresh bottle of whiskey. Van Hornung was drunk and well aware of his own
+drunkenness. He peered at them from under the huge fur cap he wore even
+indoors.
+
+“_Could man be drunk forever with liquor, love and fights_—” he
+murmured, hooking out a chair with his foot. “Ah well, it doesn’t matter
+now. Have another drink, gentlemen.”
+
+Miller glanced at Slade, then leaned forward across the table.
+
+“About Peak Seven Hundred, now,” he said. “I wish you’d—”
+
+The Belgian slapped a fat hand on the table. “You ask me about Seven
+Hundred. Very well, then—listen. I would not tell you before—I did not
+wish you to die. Now I am drunker and, I think, wiser. It does not
+matter whether a man lives or dies.
+
+“For twenty years I have been neither alive nor dead. I have not thought
+nor felt emotion nor lived like a man. I have eaten and drunk and tried
+to forget. If you wish to go to the Peak I’ll tell you the way. It’s all
+quite futile, you see.”
+
+He drank. Miller and Slade exchanged glances in silence.
+
+“If you go,” Van Hornung said, “you will leave your soul behind you—as
+I did. We are not the dominant race, you see. We try to achieve the
+summits but we forget that there may already be dwellers on the peaks.
+Oh yes, I will tell you the way to the Peak if you like. But if you live
+you will not care about anything any more.”
+
+Miller glanced again at Slade, who gestured impatiently.
+
+“I’ll take a chance on that,” Miller said to the Belgian. “Tell me the
+way.”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+In the dim twilight of the arctic noon Miller followed his Innuit guides
+up the snowy foothills toward Seven Hundred. For many days they had
+traveled, deeper and deeper into this dry, sub-zero silence, muffled in
+snow. The guides were nervous. They knew their arctic gods, animistic,
+watchful, resented intrusion into sacred areas like Peak Seven Hundred.
+In their fur-hooded Esquimaux faces oriental eyes watched Miller
+mistrustfully.
+
+He was carrying his gun now. Two of the Innuits had deserted already, in
+the depths of the long nights. These two remained and hated him, and
+went on only because their fear of his gun was greater—so far—than
+their fear of the gods on Seven Hundred.
+
+The Peak lifted great sheer cliffs almost overhead. There was no visible
+way of scaling it. But the Innuits were hurrying ahead as if they had
+already sighted a clearly marked trail. Miller quickened his steps, a
+vague uneasiness beginning to stir in his mind.
+
+Then the foremost Esquimau dropped to his knees and began to scrabble in
+the snow. Miller shouted, hearing his own voice come back thin and
+hollow from the answering peaks. But when he reached the two, one of
+them looked up over his furclad shoulder and smiled a grim smile. In his
+native tongue he spoke one of the strange compound words that can convey
+a whole sentence.
+
+“_Ariartokasuaromarotit-tog_,” he said. “Thou too wilt soon go quickly
+away.” There was threat and warning and satisfaction in the way he said
+it. His fur mitten patted something in the snow.
+
+Miller bent to look. An iridescent pathway lay there, curving up around
+a boulder and out of sight, rough crystal surfaces that caught the light
+with red and blue shadows. Here in the white, silent world of the high
+peaks it looked very beautiful and strange. Miller knelt and ran a
+gloved hand over it, feeling even through the leather a slight
+tingling. . . .
+
+“Erubescite!” he murmured to himself, and smiled. It meant copper,
+perhaps gold. And it was an old vein. The color spoke of long exposure.
+There was nothing strange about finding a vein of erubescite in the
+mountains—the interpenetrating cubes twinned on an octahedral plane
+were common enough in certain mining regions. Still, the regularity of
+the thing was odd. And that curious tingling. . . .
+
+It looked like a path.
+
+The Innuits were watching him expectantly. Moving with caution, Miller
+stepped forward and set his foot on the path. It was uneven, difficult
+to balance on. He took two or three steps along the iridescent purple
+slope, and then. . . .
+
+And then he was moving smoothly upward, involuntarily, irresistibly.
+There was a strange feeling in his feet and up the long muscles at the
+back of his legs. And the mountain was sliding away below him. Peaks,
+snow-slopes, fur-clad men all slipped quietly off down the mountainside,
+while at Miller’s feet a curving ribbon of iridescence lengthened away.
+
+“I’m dreaming!” was his first thought. And his head spun with the
+strange new motion so that he staggered—and could not fall. That
+tingling up his legs was more than a nervous reaction, it was a
+permeation of the tissues.
+
+“Transmutation!” he thought wildly, and clutched in desperation at the
+slipping fabric of his own reason. “The road’s moving,” he told himself
+as calmly as he could. “I’m fixed to it somehow. Transmutation? Why did
+I think of transmutation? I can’t move my feet or legs—they feel like
+stone—like the substance of the road.”
+
+The changing of one element into another—lead into gold, flesh into
+stone . . . The Innuits had known. Far away he could see the diminishing
+dots that were his guides slide around a curve and vanish. He gestured
+helplessly, finding even his arms growing heavy, as if that strange
+atomic transmutation were spreading higher and higher through his body.
+
+Powerless, one with the sliding path, he surrendered himself without a
+struggle to that mounting glide. Something stronger than himself had him
+in a grip that seemed purposeful. He could only wait and . . . it was
+growing difficult to think. Perhaps the change was reaching to his brain
+by now. He couldn’t tell.
+
+He only knew that for a timeless period thereafter he did not think any
+more about anything. . . .
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Thin laughter echoed through his mind. A man’s voice said, “But I am
+bored, Tsi. Besides, he won’t be hurt—much. Or if he is, what does it
+matter?”
+
+Miller was floating in a dark void. There was a strangeness about the
+voice he could not analyze. He heard a woman answer and in her tone was
+a curious likeness to the man’s.
+
+“Don’t, Brann,” she said. “You can find other—amusements.”
+
+The high laughter came again. “But he’s still new. It should be
+interesting.”
+
+“Brann, please let him go.”
+
+“Be silent, Tsi. I’m master here. Is he awake yet?”
+
+A pause. “No, not yet. Not for a while yet.”
+
+“I can wait.” The man sighed. “I’ve preparations to make, anyhow. Let’s
+go, Tsi.”
+
+There was a long, long pause. The voices were still.
+
+Miller knew he was floating in nothingness. He tried to move and could
+not. Inertia still gripped his body but his brain was free and
+functioning with a clarity that surprised him. It was almost as if that
+strange transmutation had changed his very brain-tissues to something
+new and marvelous.
+
+“Transmutation,” he thought. “Lead into gold—flesh into stone—that’s
+what I was thinking about when—when I stopped thinking. When that sort
+of change happens, it means the nuclear charge in the atoms of one
+substance or the other has to change too. The tingling when I touched
+the road—was that when it happened?”
+
+But he paused there, knowing there was no answer. For when had a man
+ever before felt the shifting from flesh to crystal take place in his
+own body?
+
+If it had happened that way, then it must have been a force like the
+coulomb forces themselves that welded him into one with the moving
+road—the all but irresistible forces that hold the electrons in their
+orbits and rivet all creation into a whole.
+
+And now—what?
+
+“There are two methods of transmutation,” he told himself clearly, lying
+there in the dark and groping for some answer to the thing that was
+happening to him.
+
+“Rationalize it,” his mind seemed to say, “or you’ll go mad with sheer
+uncertainty. Reason it out from what you know. A chemical element is
+determined by the number of electrons around the nucleus—change that
+and you change the element. But the nucleus, in turn, determines by its
+charge the number of electrons it can control. If the nuclear charge is
+changed, then this—this crystalline state—is permanent.
+
+“But if it isn’t, then that must mean there’s constant bombardment that
+knocks off or adds electrons to whatever touches that road. The change
+wouldn’t be permanent because the original charge of the nucleus remains
+constant. After awhile the extra electrons would be dropped, or others
+captured to restore the balance, and I’d be normal again. That must be
+the way of it,” he told himself, “because Van Hornung came this way. And
+he went back again—normal. Or was he really normal?”
+
+The question echoed without answer in his brain. Miller lay quiet a
+moment longer and then began to try once more to stir his inert body.
+This time, a very little, he felt muscles move. . . .
+
+What seemed a long while later, he found he could open his eyes. Very
+cautiously he looked around.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER II
+                                 _Tsi_
+
+
+He was alone. He lay on something hard and flat. A dome of crystal
+arched overhead, not very high, so that he seemed in effect to lie in a
+box of crystal—a coffin, he thought grimly, and sat up with brittle
+care. His muscles felt as stiff as if the substance of the iridescent
+roadway still permeated his flesh.
+
+The dome seemed to have strange properties, for all he saw through it
+was curiously distorted and colored with such richness it almost hurt
+the eyes to gaze upon what lay beyond.
+
+He saw columns of golden trees upon which leaves moved and glittered in
+constantly changing prisms of light. Something like smoke seemed to
+wreathe slowly among the trees, colored incredibly. Seen through the
+dome about him the color of the smoke was nameless. No man ever saw that
+hue before nor gave a name to it.
+
+The slab on which he sat was the iridescent purple of the road. If it
+had carried him here, he saw no obvious way in which it could have left
+him lying on the crystal coffin. Yet, clearly, this was the end of the
+moving roadway and, clearly too, the forces which had welded him to it
+were gone now.
+
+The unstable atoms created in the grip of that strange force had shaken
+off their abnormality and reverted to their original form. He was
+himself again but stiff, dizzy and not sure whether he had dreamed the
+voices. If he had, it was a nightmare. He shivered a little, remembering
+the thin, inhuman laughter and its promise of dreadful things.
+
+He got up, very cautiously, looking around. As nearly as he could tell
+through the distorting crystal there was no one near him. The coffin
+stood in a grove of the golden trees and, except for the mist and the
+twinkling leaves, nothing moved. He put out a tentative hand to push the
+crystal up.
+
+His hand went through it. There was a tinkling like high music,
+ineffably sweet, and the crystal flew into glittering fragments that
+fell to the ground in a second rain of sound. The beauty of it for a
+moment was almost pain. He had never heard such music before. It was
+almost more beautiful than any human being should be allowed to hear, he
+thought confusedly. There are sensations so keen they can put too great
+a strain upon human nerves.
+
+Then he stood there unprotected by the dome and looked around him at the
+trees and the mist and saw that the dome had made no difference. These
+incredible colors were no distortions—they were real. He took a
+tentative step and found the grass underfoot so soft that even through
+his shoe-soles he could feel its caress.
+
+The very air was exquisitely cool and hushed, like the air of a summer
+dawn, almost liquid in its translucence. Through it the winking of the
+prism-leaves was so lovely to look at that he turned his eyes away,
+unable to endure the sight for more than a moment.
+
+This was hallucination. “I’m still somewhere back there in the snow,” he
+thought. “Delirium—that’s it. I’m imagining this.” But if it were a
+dream, then Van Hornung had known it too, and men do not dream identical
+dreams. The Belgian had warned him.
+
+He shook his shoulders impatiently. Even with all this before him he
+could not quite bring himself to believe Van Hornung’s story. There was
+a quality of dream about this landscape, as if all he saw were not in
+reality what it seemed, as if this grass of ineffable softness were—and
+he knew it was—only crusted snow, as if those cliffs he could glimpse
+among the trees were really the bare crags of Peak Seven Hundred, and
+everything else delirium. He felt uneasily that he was really lying
+somewhere asleep in the snow, and must wake soon, before he froze.
+
+That high, thin laughter rang suddenly through the air. In spite of
+himself Miller felt his heart lurch and he whirled to face the sound
+with a feeling of cold terror congealing him. It was odd how frightening
+the careless voice had been, talking impersonally of its pleasures.
+
+A little group of men and women was coming toward him through the trees.
+He could not guess which of them had laughed the familiar laughter. They
+wore brilliantly colored garments of a subtle cut that hung like a toga
+or a sari, with a wonderful sophistication of line. The colors were
+incredible.
+
+Miller blinked dazedly, trying in vain to find names for those
+shimmering hues that seemed to combine known colors into utterly unknown
+gradations and to draw from the range of colors above and below the
+spectrum as we see it.
+
+A women said, “Oh, he’s awake,” and a man laughed pleasantly and said,
+“Look how surprised he is!” All of them smiled and turned bright, amused
+faces to Miller.
+
+He said something—he never remembered what—and stopped in sheer shock
+at the harsh dissonance of his own voice. It was like an ugly discord
+tearing through smooth, lilting arpeggios of harmony. The faces of the
+others went blank briefly, as though they had concentrated on something
+else to avoid hearing the sound. The woman Miller had first noticed
+lifted her hand.
+
+“Wait,” she said. “Listen to me, for a moment. There is no need to
+speak—_aloud_.” A faint distaste was in her tone. Her . . . tone? That
+could not be right. No voice was ever so sweetly musical, so gently
+harmonious.
+
+Miller looked at her. Her face was a small pale triangle, lovely and
+elfin and strange, with enormous violet eyes and piled masses of hair
+that seemed to flow in winding strands through one another. Each strand
+was of a different pastel hue, dusty green or pale amethyst or the
+yellow of sunshine on a hazy morning. It was so in keeping, somehow,
+that Miller felt no surprise. That bizarre coiffure fitted perfectly
+with the woman’s face.
+
+He opened his mouth again, but the woman—it shocked him a little, and
+he wondered that it did not shock him even more—was suddenly beside
+him. A split-second before she had been ten feet away.
+
+“You have much to learn,” she said. “First, though—remember not to
+speak. It isn’t necessary. Simply frame your thoughts. There’s a little
+trick to it. No—keep your mouth closed. Think. Think your question.”
+
+Her lips had moved slightly, but merely for emphasis. And surely normal
+vocal cords could not have been capable of that unearthly sweetness and
+evenness of tone, with its amazing variations and nuances. Miller
+thought, “Telepathy. It must be telepathy.”
+
+They waited, watching him inquiringly.
+
+The woman said, silently, “Think—_to me_. Frame the thought more
+carefully. The concepts must be rounded, complete. Later you may use
+abstracts but you can’t do that yet. All I can read is a
+cloudiness. . . .”
+
+Miller thought carefully, word by word, “Is this telepathy?”
+
+“Still cloudiness,” she said. “But it’s clearer now. You were never used
+to clear thinking. Yes, it is telepathy.”
+
+“But how can I—where am I? What is this place?”
+
+She smiled at him, and laughter moved through the group. “More slowly.
+Remember, you have just been born.”
+
+“Just—what?”
+
+And thoughts seemed to fly past him like small bright insects, grazing
+the edges of his consciousness. A half-mocking, friendly thought from
+one of the men, a casual comment from another.
+
+_Brann_, Miller thought, remembering. _What about Brann? Where is he?_
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+There was dead silence. He had never felt such stillness before. It was
+of the mind, not physical. But he felt communication, super-sensory,
+rapid and articulate, between the others. Abruptly the rainbow-haired
+woman took his arm, while the others began to drift off through the
+prism-leaves and the golden trees.
+
+She pulled him gently away under the tinkling foliage, through the
+drifts of colored mists. Brushing violet fog before them with her free
+hand, she said, “We would rather not mention Brann here, if we can avoid
+it. To speak of him sometimes—brings him. And Brann is in a dangerous
+mood today.”
+
+Miller looked at her with a frown of concentration. There was so much to
+ask. In that strange mental tongue that was already coming more easily
+to him, he said, “I don’t understand any of this. But I know your voice.
+Or rather, your—I’m not sure what you’d call it.”
+
+“The mental voice, you mean? Yes, you learn to recognize them. It’s easy
+to imitate an audible voice but the mental one can’t be imitated. It’s
+part of the person. So you remember hearing my thoughts before? I
+thought you were asleep.”
+
+“You’re Tsi.”
+
+“Yes,” she said and pushed aside a tinkling screen of the prisms. Before
+them stood a low rampart of light—or water. Four feet high, it ran like
+liquid but it glowed like light. Beyond it was blue sky and a sheer,
+dizzying drop to meadows hundreds of feet below. The whole scene was
+almost blindingly vivid, every lovely detail standing out sharp and
+clear and dazzling.
+
+He said, “I don’t understand. There are legends about people up here,
+but not about—this. This vividness. Who are you? What is this place?”
+
+Tsi smiled at him. There was warmth and compassion in the smile, and she
+said gently, “This is what your race had once, and lost. We’re very old,
+but we’ve kept—” Abruptly she paused, her eyes brightening suddenly
+with a look of terror.
+
+She said. “Hush!” and in the mental command there was a wave of darkness
+and silence that seemed to blanket his mind. For no reason his heart
+began to pound with nervous dread. They stood there motionless for an
+instant, mind locked with mind in a stillness that was more than absence
+of sound—it was absence of thought. But through the silence Miller
+caught just the faintest echo of that thin, tittering laugh he had heard
+before, instinct with cold, merciless amusement.
+
+The prism leaves sang around them with little musical tinklings. From
+the sunlit void stretching far below bird-song rippled now and then with
+a sweetness that was almost painful to hear. Then Tsi’s mind relaxed its
+grip upon Miller’s and she sighed softly.
+
+“It’s all right now. For a moment I thought Brann . . . but no, he’s
+gone again.”
+
+“Who is Brann?” Miller demanded.
+
+“The lord of this castle. A very strange creature—very terrible when
+his whims are thwarted. Brann is—he cares for nothing very much. He
+lives only for pleasure and, because he’s lived so long and exhausted so
+many pleasures, the devices he uses now are not very—well, not very
+pleasant for anyone but Brann. There was a warp in him before his birth,
+you see. He’s not quite—not quite of our breed.”
+
+“He’s from the outside world? Human?” As he said it Miller knew
+certainly that the woman before him was not human, not as he understood
+the term.
+
+But Tsi shook her head. “Oh, no. He was born here. He’s of our breed.
+But not of our norm. A little above in many ways, a little below in
+others. _Your_ race—” there was faint distaste and pity in the thought,
+but she let it die there, unelaborated.
+
+“You can’t understand yet,” she went on. “Don’t try. You see, you
+suffered a change when you came. You aren’t quite as you were before.
+Were you ever able to communicate telepathically?”
+
+“No, of course not. But I don’t feel any different. I—”
+
+“A blind man, given sight, wouldn’t realize it until he opened his eyes.
+And he might be dazzled at first. You’re at a disadvantage. I think it
+would be best for you to get away. Look there, across the valley.”
+
+She lifted an arm to point. Far off across the dazzling meadows hills
+rose, green in the sunlight, shimmering a little in the warm, clear
+light. On the height of the highest a diamond glitter caught the sun.
+
+“My sister,” Tsi said, “has that palace over there. I think Orelle would
+take you in, if only to thwart Brann. You aren’t safe here. Fur your
+sake, it was a pity the port of entry you reached was here in Brann’s
+castle.”
+
+“There have been others, then?” Miller asked. “A man named Van
+Hornung—did he come here?”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+She shook her head, the rainbow hair catching the sunlight. “Not here.
+There are many castles in our land and most of them live at peace within
+and without. But not Brann’s.”
+
+“Then why are you here?” Miller asked bluntly.
+
+She smiled an unhappy smile. “Most of us came because we felt as Brann
+does—we did not care very much any more. We wanted to follow our
+pleasures, being tired of other pursuits after so many thousands of
+years. All except me.”
+
+“Thousands of. . . . What do you mean? Why are you here then?”
+
+Her mouth turned down at the corners in a rueful smile.
+
+“Well—perhaps I too was warped before birth. I can’t leave Brann now.
+He needs me. That doesn’t matter to you. Brann’s dangerous—his heart is
+set on—on experiments that will need you to complete. We won’t talk
+about that.”
+
+Miller said, “I came here for a purpose.”
+
+“I know. I read part of your mind while you lay asleep. You’re hunting
+for a treasure. We have it. Or perhaps I should say Orelle has it.” The
+violet eyes darkened. She hesitated.
+
+“Perhaps I’m sending you to Orelle for a purpose,” she said. “You can do
+me a great service there—and yourself too. That treasure you seek
+is—should be partly mine. You think of it as a power-source. To me it’s
+a doorway into something better than any of us knows. . . .
+
+“Our father made it, long ago. Orelle has it now, though by rights she
+and I should share it. If you find a way to get that treasure, my
+friend, will you bring it to me?”
+
+Long-grooved habit-patterns in Miller’s mind made him say automatically,
+“And if I do?”
+
+She smiled. “If you don’t,” she said, “Brann will have you sooner or
+later. If I can get it I think I can—control Brann. If I can’t—well,
+you will be the first sufferer. I think you know that. You’ll do well to
+persuade Orelle if you can. Now—I’ve made a bargain with Brann. Don’t
+ask me what. You may learn, later.
+
+“Go to Orelle, watch your chance and be wary. If you ask for the
+treasure you’ll never get near it. Better not to speak of it but wait
+and watch. No one can read your mind unless you will it, now that you’re
+learning telepathy, but watch too that you let nothing slip from your
+thoughts to warn her.”
+
+“You want me to take her hospitality and then rob her?”
+
+Distress showed in Tsi’s face. “Oh, no! I ask only what’s mine, and even
+that only for long enough to control Brann. Then you may return the
+treasure to Orelle or strike a bargain with her over it. Five minutes
+with that in my hands is all I ask! Now here is something I’ve made for
+you out of your own possession. Hold out your wrist.”
+
+Staring, he obeyed. She unclosed her hand to show him his wristwatch in
+her palm. Smiling, she buckled the strap around his arm. “It isn’t quite
+as it was. I changed it. If you need me concentrate on this and speak to
+me in your mind. I’ll hear.”
+
+There were countless questions still unasked. Miller took a deep breath
+and began to formulate them in his mind. And then—Tsi vanished! The
+earth was gone from underfoot and he spun through golden emptiness,
+dropping, falling. The water-wall hung beneath him. He floated in midair
+a hundred feet above the crag-bordered stream at the cliffs bottom!
+
+Panic struck him. Then Tsi’s reassuring thought said, “You are safe.
+This is teleportation.”
+
+He scarcely heard. An age-old instinctive fear chilled his middle. For a
+million years men have been afraid of falling. He could not now control
+that fear.
+
+Slowly he began to drop. He lost sight of Tsi and the golden trees and
+then of the water-wall.
+
+Under him the stream broadened.
+
+He sank down at an angle—and felt solid ground beneath his feet.
+
+There was silence except for the whispering murmur of the stream.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER III
+                      _The World That Couldn’t Be_
+
+
+Miller sat down on a rock and held his head in his hands. His thoughts
+were swimming. Cold, fresh air blew against his cheeks and he raised his
+face to meet that satisfying chill. It seemed to rouse him. He began to
+realize that he had been half asleep during the interview with Tsi, as
+though the mists of his slumber had still blanketed his senses.
+Otherwise he would scarcely have accepted this miraculous business.
+
+Or was there another reason?
+
+He felt a desperate impulse to see Tsi again. She could answer his
+questions, if she would. And she had been the first friendly face he had
+seen in this terribly strange land.
+
+He looked up and willed himself to rise.
+
+Impossible, of course. _My own bootstraps_, he thought, with a wild sort
+of amusement. Were his feet pressing less heavily on the rock beneath
+him?
+
+And then, from above, came a high, thin laughter that was not truly
+audible—Brann!
+
+Even before the mental voice came, that malicious, slow thought sent its
+familiar radiations before it. Something as recognizable as sound or
+color—more so!—fell down the cliff and crept coldly into Miller’s
+brain. He knew that unheard voice.
+
+“You had better not come up,” it said.
+
+Miller stood motionless, waiting. Instinctively he had fallen into the
+fighter’s crouch. But how useless ordinary precautions would be against
+this super-being!
+
+He tried to close his mind.
+
+“Go to Orelle, then,” it said. “I’ve made my bargain with Tsi and I’ll
+keep it. But she’s a fool. She always tries to close her mind to
+unpleasant things. She’ll never really admit we’re at war with her
+sister. As long as she doesn’t name it _war_, she thinks it’s something
+else.”
+
+Again the high laughter.
+
+“Go to Orelle,” Brann said. “I’m winning too easily. Perhaps they can
+use another fighter. Then they may be able to give me more of a battle.
+Though, if I chose, I could crush you with a thought—turn the air
+itself into a weight that would flatten you in an instant. But Orelle
+may think of a use for you. I can’t, except to divert myself with your
+reactions to certain experiments.”
+
+The unheard voice grew carelessly casual.
+
+“Too easy a victory is no victory at all. Go away.”
+
+Anger stirred in Miller at that calm assumption of superiority. Brann
+was thoroughly justified, of course, yet no man likes to be discounted
+utterly. With all his power Miller willed himself to rise, to float
+upward as easily as he had floated down—and this time he was certain
+that his feet lost contact with the earth.
+
+Then a weight like a great stone crushed down on him. Only for an
+instant did that frightful, unbearable pressure continue, while the
+veins swelled on Miller’s forehead and he heard his breath coming in
+deep, rasping gasps as he tried to resist the onslaught.
+
+He went to his knees—down till he lay on his back, prostrate, helpless
+beneath that furious assault of the air itself. A screaming river of
+wind thundered down and the thin bushes in the gorge stirred and small
+landslides began as the air-river rushed in hurricane force from above.
+
+Brann laughed idly again and obviously lost interest. The pressure
+vanished. Sweating, breathing hard, Miller struggled to his feet. He did
+not try teleportation again. For a moment he stared up at the cliff-rim.
+Then he turned and began to walk up the gorge in the direction of
+Orelle’s palace. His mouth was thin and his eyes held an angry glow.
+
+So Brann was winning too easily. Well—perhaps something could be done
+about that!
+
+Far off across the glimmering valley a green hillside rolled high
+against the sky. The diamond twinkle that was the castle he must reach
+grew larger as he walked—grew larger with abnormal speed. Miller looked
+down and was surprised to find that measured by the pebbles and the
+flowers underfoot he was taking increasingly long steps.
+
+_Seven-league boots_, he thought, as he found himself striding like a
+giant through the softness of the grass. The earth slid by beneath his
+feet with dream-like fluidity. Now the diamond glitter of Orelle’s
+palace was dividing into hundreds of tinier glitters and he saw the
+walls of pale-colored glass rising fantastically upon the green height
+of the grass-clad mountain. A palace of glass—or ice.
+
+“Ice,” he thought suddenly. “Ice and snow and rocks. That’s all there is
+here. This is a dream. There’s no such world—there couldn’t be.”
+
+And then reason, stirring in his mind, argued, “Why not? How do we know
+the limits of possibility? Out of the few simple building blocks of the
+universe—out of neutrons, protons, electrons—everything we know is
+made. How much else may there be we can’t even perceive—unless
+transmutation takes place and the structure of a man’s nuclear patterns
+change to let him see. . . .
+
+“After all, you aren’t the first. There was Van Hornung and who knows
+how many before him? There was Tannhauser in the magical mountain of
+Venusburg—there was Thomas the Rhymer under the hill in fairyland.
+Paradise itself sounds like a distorted tale of just such a land as
+this. Legend remembers. You aren’t in any new world. You’re only
+exploring a very old one, and—”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Without warning the world dropped away under his feet and all logical
+progression of thoughts ceased abruptly. The sky was beneath him now and
+the shining world whirling dizzily over and over around him. But
+something firmer than gravity clasped him close so that there was no
+vertigo, even though the earth had forsaken him. Green translucence
+cradled him. There was a sensation of great speed, and then—
+
+Glass walls flashed past, spun, righted themselves gently. A solid
+pavement fitted itself against his soles and leveled off to the
+horizontal. He stood in a small, high room whose walls were row upon row
+of lenses, like bull’s-eye panes, all looking down upon him with—eyes?
+Black mechanical pupils that moved whenever he moved, following him as
+he walked toward the nearest wall. For an instant he felt stripped and
+naked under that multiple scrutiny.
+
+Then a telepathic voice said, “You come from Brann.”
+
+Miller looked around wildly. He was alone. Almost automatically he said,
+“No!” aloud, so that the air shivered to the harsh sound. He wasn’t sure
+why he denied it. Brann had spoken of war.
+
+“Don’t lie,” the voice said coldly. “I can see the dust of Brann’s
+mountain on you. Do you think we can’t identify a simple thing like dust
+from a given mountain? It streams off you like purple light in the
+fluorescents. You come from Brann. Are you a spy?”
+
+“Tsi sent me,” Miller said. “Take me to Orelle.”
+
+“Orelle speaks,” the telepathic voice told him without emotion. “My
+sister loves me—but Tsi is no woman to trust. No one on Brann’s
+mountain is worth trusting or he wouldn’t be with Brann at all. What Tsi
+finds distasteful she denies existence. What do you want here?”
+
+Miller hesitated, glancing around the walls at the impassive, watching
+eyes of the—machines? Power, he wanted to say. Give me that
+power-source and I’ll go. But he was silent, remembering Tsi’s warning.
+
+How much of it he could believe he didn’t know now but it was second
+nature for him to keep his own counsel until he was sure enough to act.
+Orelle could not read his mind. Tsi had confessed that would be
+impossible once he began to master telepathic communication. He would be
+safe enough as long as he could give the right answers.
+
+“I’m from the outside,” he offered hesitantly, thinking that hesitation
+and uncertainty might be his best defense until he learned more about
+this place. Exaggerate them, play up even more than was really genuine
+his bewilderment and confusion. “I—Tsi said you’d help me get oriented
+here.”
+
+The disembodied voice was silent for a brief, considering moment. Then
+it said, “I think you lie. However—are you willing to accept our
+search? Only after you’ve been proved weaponless can we admit you here.”
+
+What could he say but yes? For an instant he remembered the watch Tsi
+had strapped to his wrist and what she had said of it. But it was for
+communication only—she had said—and surely she knew that a routine
+search would probably be made. She wouldn’t have branded him with
+something that would give him away to the first inspection. Or would
+she? What he had heard of Tsi did little to increase his confidence in
+her. Still . . .
+
+“Search if you like,” he said.
+
+The room went dark. Miller, blinking in the sudden blindness, felt
+something like the vertigo he had not suffered in flight seize him
+relentlessly now he was on solid flooring. The air spun around him in a
+shrill diminishing vortex and it seemed to him limitless gulfs were
+opening underfoot and sucking him down, tight, tight, into a crushing
+spiral of darkness. . . .
+
+Out of the dark lights suddenly sprang into being, cold, blue lights
+that struck him like cold water—struck and penetrated. Looking down, he
+was aghast to see his own blood coursing red through transparent veins,
+to see his bones stand out cleanly white in their lacings of muscle,
+moving startlingly when he bent to stare.
+
+The lights went out again. The darkness ceased to whirl. And then for
+one instant he felt all through his body an indescribable shifting, a
+terrible motion of inconceivable multiplicity. And in that flash of the
+instant he was _changed_.
+
+The atoms went back into their normal pattern. That unstable isotope
+which was himself shed its changed form and he was as he had always
+been, solid, human, normal.
+
+It was a hideous feeling. Until that moment he had not realized how much
+he had changed already, what nascent, nameless senses had begun to open
+up in him, pushing back horizons upon glories beyond glories. It was
+like deafness and blindness suddenly closing in about a normal man. It
+was worse—it was like having all the properties of death itself imposed
+upon the living. Miller held his breath, closed his eyes.
+
+He felt the shift again as the isotope form renewed itself within him.
+The shifting stirred in the unthinkable myriads of the nuclei that
+formed him. He was whole again.
+
+Once more the vortex whirled and roared in darkness. Then the dark
+lifted and he was standing beside a bank of thick yellow flowers under
+an arched vault of glass. The floor was tiled in brilliant colors,
+resilient to the foot. The flowery bank rising from it might be real
+earth and flowers or it might be a skillful imitation. For it was also a
+divan.
+
+Orelle lay upon it, smiling at him. He knew it was Orelle. He was aware,
+though he could not have explained how, of the telepathic emanation from
+her mind to his, individual as the pattern of the brain. She was
+beautiful—as everyone in this world seemed beautiful.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+He saw something of Tsi’s features in hers but she was not dressed with
+the extravagance her sister affected. She was very slender, and her
+graceful body was sheathed tightly in something like clear satin that
+covered her to the wrists and ankles and flowed in long smooth lines
+over the flowers she lay on. She was pulling them idly and twirling the
+blossoms between her fingers.
+
+“Well, you are welcome,” she said, almost reluctantly, eyeing Miller
+with a smile that had wryness in it. “We found no weapons, though we
+searched you down to the very structure of the protons. To tell you the
+truth, we have no reason to trust you.
+
+“But Tsi must have had some reason for sending you here and I think
+we’re safer coping with her schemes at first hand than goading her on to
+try something more subtle still. Be sure you’re watched, my friend. Be
+careful what you do.”
+
+Miller said wryly, “I’m not likely to do anything. From what I’ve seen
+of this place, I feel helpless. Do you all have the same powers as Tsi?
+How many of you are there? And what—”
+
+Orelle shrugged. “We’re not used to hurry. Of course we have all the
+time we need. Your race doesn’t—even here. I can see your curiosity.
+And I’ll satisfy it, too. Yes, everyone here has the same powers, though
+naturally some are stronger than others. There is the telepathic factor,
+and—other things.”
+
+“Bred into your race? But what about me? I’m not your kind.”
+
+She said slowly, “A million years ago your ancestors were, though. Since
+then your people have gone down. It took eons to reach the peak when
+Atlantis and Mu were great cultures, and it will take eons more for your
+race to regain what they have lost. Only here, on this secret mountain,
+have we retained the strength of the old civilizations.”
+
+Miller said. “But what happened?”
+
+“Oh, the usual thing. Men took weapons they weren’t ready to use. In
+that time—try to understand this—the atomic structure of the world
+itself was different. You know that? That the atom can change—”
+
+“I do indeed,” Miller told her grimly. “If electrons change, or if the
+nucleus changes, the structure changes too.”
+
+She said, “Well, that was what happened. All earth is dull and dead now.
+Only here does the old special type of matter still exist. It throws off
+a certain radiation that makes it possible for us to be born and live as
+we are. In Atlantis there was experiment with nuclear structures, and
+transmutation.”
+
+“We have atomic power now,” Miller said.
+
+“The beginnings of it. You’re merely beginning. It will be a long, long
+time before you stand where Atlantis once stood. First you must change
+the very structure of your world! Only then will _you_ change, will the
+radiation-caused mutation alter you and give you the powers and senses
+you lost when a world went to war a millennium ago.
+
+“The fires of matter itself moved across the planet, and where it
+passed, structure altered and what was bright and shining and glorious
+became a dull, empty thing. Men lost their specialized, hard-won powers
+then. But the seeds remain latent in their bodies, recessive
+characteristics. Here, on the mountain, the recessive can become
+dominant for a little while. It is unstable, of course. . . .”
+
+“Then—I’m like you? Tsi told me but I couldn’t believe it. I’m a—a
+sort of superman?”
+
+“Every gift has its price,” she said oddly. “There is beauty here but
+there is terror too. You must have noticed that you see with clearer
+eyes—the eyes of the mind.”
+
+“Yes,” he said. “I’ve noticed that. Things are—shining, somehow.”
+
+“It would be well if you remembered your own world,” Orelle said, after
+a little pause. Her eyes were troubled. “Your own atomic structure has
+altered but that can take place only once.”
+
+A man came into view through a glassy wall that melted at his approach,
+and solidified again behind him. He looked no older than Orelle, a
+firm-fleshed, smiling man whose vari-tinted hair lay smoothly across his
+scalp. But his eyes were old, grey and cloudy with the mists of
+incalculable centuries.
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IV
+                               _The Bomb_
+
+
+“Orelle—” he began. And then the aeon-misted eyes fell upon Miller, and
+a look of bewildered recognition seemed to grow in them. “This man,” he
+said uncertainly. “Should I know him, Orelle? Has he been here before,
+or. . . .” Suddenly the mists cleared from his eyes and he looked old no
+longer but resolute and certain.
+
+“I know him!” he said in a crisp voice. “His face was in the Time Pool.
+It meant danger. But the likelihood was so remote that—well, I
+dismissed it. I didn’t believe.”
+
+“What was the danger?” Orelle leaned forward anxiously, her satin skirts
+moving with a gentle rustle over the flowery bank where she sat.
+
+The man shook his head. “You’ve seen the Time Pool, child. There are so
+many possibilities of the future—who can say in what ripple this man’s
+face floated for a moment before the bubble burst? But it was danger. I
+remember that.”
+
+They turned in one motion and looked at Miller with wise, wary,
+thoughtful eyes, astonishingly alike in the two faces. He realized they
+must be closely akin, and both akin to Tsi, whom no one trusted far.
+
+He said quickly, “If you can read the future you must know I’m not a man
+to break my promises—and I swear to you both I mean no harm.”
+
+The man made an impatient gesture. “The future is never that clear.
+There is no ‘must’ in time—only ‘perhaps’.”
+
+“Tsi sent him,” Orelle said. “She must have had her reasons.”
+
+“She sent me because of Brann,” Miller declared. The two nodded.
+
+Orelle said, “Well, sometimes she’s moved to save one of Brann’s
+victims. Sometimes I think she helps him in his—call them
+experiments—on those he captures. She’d like us to think only whims
+move her. But we know the thing that lies behind all she does. Llesi and
+I—we know.” She smiled grimly at the man beside her.
+
+“She wants the Power,” the man called Llesi said.
+
+Miller thought to himself, “So do I,” but aloud he said only, “The
+Power?” in a voice of innocent inquiry.
+
+Llesi nodded, his eyes fixed speculatively upon Miller as if he gazed
+through the mists of incalculable years.
+
+“A toy my brother and I once made that became far more than a toy before
+we were finished. Now Tsi claims her share in her father’s treasure.
+These two are my brother’s children but sometimes I think Tsi has no
+blood of mine in her veins.”
+
+Orelle said, “No, Llesi, she’s only weak. If Brann didn’t rule her so
+completely—”
+
+“She’d be welcome to her heritage. But we know that to give her what she
+asks is to give it straight into Brann’s hands. And there’d be an end to
+this castle and all who live here.”
+
+“Who is Brann?” Miller asked impatiently. “I’ve heard so much about him,
+I’ve even heard him speak. But I’ve never seen him. What does he look
+like?”
+
+Orelle shook her head. Small bells she wore in her ears tinkled at the
+motion, and even the tiny sounds they made were vividly beautiful to
+Miller’s increasingly keen new senses.
+
+She said, “No one has seen him except Tsi. No one but she can tell you
+what he is. He receives his friends only in the dark or from behind
+curtains. Ever since he built that castle, centuries ago, he’s kept his
+secret hidden—whatever it may be. I should like to see him dead.”
+
+She said it without passion. “Brann is true evil, perhaps pure evil in
+its most flawless form. He’s very wise and very powerful. I’m not sure
+why he chose us for his enemy but I only know now we must fight or be
+killed.”
+
+Miller made up his mind suddenly. “As I left his castle,” he said,
+“Brann spoke to me from beyond the wall. He said this was a fight he
+would win too easily. He told me to come to you as another fighter, to
+make the battle more interesting.”
+
+Orelle leaned forward quickly on the flowery bank, her earrings tinkling
+musically. “He said that? You know, I’d have guessed the opposite.
+
+“I’d have said Tsi sent you here knowing Brann would covet you for his
+experiments—knowing that with you here, he’d redouble his efforts to
+conquer us and drag you back. If his interest were flagging, that might
+be the best way to revive it against us and force her entry here.
+Because she’d do anything in the world to get her hands on the Power.”
+
+Llesi interrupted her in a thoughtful voice. “She might send an envoy
+here armed with some secret weapon Brann could devise—something that
+could pass even our careful searching. Remember, Orelle, I’ve seen this
+man before in the Time Pool—this man’s face, and danger!”
+
+“I’ve given you my word I didn’t come to harm you,” Miller said,
+realizing that though he sailed close to the wind of truth in saying
+that, at least it was accurate as far as it went. “Still, I’d like to
+know more about this Power. Unless you—”
+
+He never finished. For suddenly there was a blast of appalling sound in
+the room, and a rush of white-hot fire that seemed to flow down his arm
+and burst in a blinding gush from his wrist.
+
+When he could see again, what he saw was stunning. For Llesi was
+collapsing where he stood, his knees buckling, his face strangely
+drained and empty as if he were dead before he struck the floor. There
+was a curious shimmering glow bathing him, sinking inward like a
+devouring acid.
+
+Orelle was on her feet, stumbling forward, and from all around figures
+were closing in through the glass that melted at their approach.
+
+Blinded and deafened by a sound that he knew was not truly audible,
+Miller tried to spring back.
+
+He could not move. The white dazzling flame still poured from him upon
+the falling Llesi. Louder and louder that unheard, cataclysmic shout
+roared through the room. Now Miller felt energy of some strange sort
+pouring from Orelle and the others—mental power, a silent, tremendous
+flood that beat upon the white flame and—snuffed it like a candle.
+
+The fire was gone. But Llesi had fallen.
+
+A dozen men and women had crowded into the room by now, bright in their
+sleek rainbow garments. Two men fell to their knees beside Llesi.
+
+Orelle had swung toward Miller. Hot rage blazed tangibly from
+her—tangibly, for Miller’s mind winced beneath that telepathic red
+fury. Through the scarlet twisted a black thread—the thought and
+intention of death, cold black against crimson.
+
+“Orelle!” he cried desperately. “I didn’t—it was some trick!”
+
+He could not speak, even telepathically. For he could see nothing now
+but Orelle’s dark eyes, and they were expanding, growing into luminous
+pools that chilled him, and effectively paralyzed muscle and nerve and
+mind.
+
+Eerily a thought that was not his own moved suddenly in his frozen
+brain—moved and reached out toward Orelle.
+
+“_Wait, child, wait!_” the thought said. “_This is Llesi speaking._”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+All must have heard it, for every head in the room turned sharply. The
+blinding pools that were Orelle’s eyes began to fade and dimly Miller
+could see again. In his mind that voice of another brain said, “_The
+bracelet on his wrist—take it!_”
+
+No one stood near Miller but he felt a violent tug at his wristwatch,
+saw it torn free. It sprang through the air to Orelle as if thrown by an
+invisible hand. She spread her fingers and received it. But she was
+looking at Miller.
+
+“Llesi?” she said uncertainly, still staring into Miller’s eyes.
+“Llesi—you hear me?”
+
+“_Yes. Wait. I must speak with this man . . . Miller . . . wait._”
+
+Orelle gestured. Llesi’s body was lifted without support and floated
+toward the bowery couch. It sank down gently. One of the men came
+forward and made a quick examination.
+
+“He isn’t dead. It’s stasis, of a sort. But I can’t communicate with
+him. Try it, Orelle.”
+
+“Llesi?” Orelle’s thought arrowed out. “_Llesi?_”
+
+Miller roused from his stupefied amazement. That fantastic voice in his
+brain was speaking quietly to himself alone.
+
+“Don’t fight me. They’ll kill you unless you obey me. Empty your mind,
+Miller. Let me speak through you. Now. . . .”
+
+Miller listened to the thought that was not his, riding on the waves of
+his own telepathic mind, speaking to Orelle and the others. But he
+believed it spoke to himself as well.
+
+“This must be Brann’s doing,” Llesi said. “The bracelet—when I guessed
+at a weapon the man Miller could have brought Tsi must somehow have been
+listening. Even our tests failed to find it but a weapon that bracelet
+must have been. Well, Brann failed but only thanks to you for smothering
+the weapon so soon. I’m not destroyed but I think it may be a long while
+before I can think or move in my own body.”
+
+“But you can hear us, Llesi?” Orelle’s voice was soft.
+
+“Through this man—yes. This is a telepathic rapport with him. There
+must have been electronic contact at the crucial moment. Without Miller
+I would be cut off completely until my body mends again. I think it will
+in time. I know the sort of weapon Brann used. My body will have to
+absorb vital energy, to overcome the insulation of atomic stasis the
+weapon threw about me.
+
+“Now listen, because my strength is going. The mental must draw on the
+physical and my body’s an ember now. I must sleep and gather power.
+Brann will know what’s happened here—depend on it, he’ll strike while
+I’m still helpless. I must think—and rest.”
+
+Orelle said, “We can handle Brann!”
+
+“We can handle him if I can lead you. Otherwise. . . Take no risks.
+Remember, my only contact with you is through this man Miller. Brann
+will destroy him if he can. But the sword is two-edged. Through Miller I
+can fight if I must. Now let me rest. I must gather my strength, and
+think.”
+
+The thought trembled on the air—faded—and was gone into an enormous
+stillness. Miller was alone again in his own brain.
+
+Orelle stared at him, anger still bright in her mind but leashed anger
+now.
+
+“How much of this have you passed on to Brann already?” she demanded.
+
+Miller said, “I swear I didn’t know I was carrying a time-bomb like
+that. Tsi told me it was only a communication device she’d built into my
+watch. I can only say I’ll help you fight Brann in any way I can.”
+
+Orelle came forward with quick steps, her satin robes rustling, and took
+Miller’s shoulders in a tight grip, reaching high with both hands to do
+so. Her eyes were close to his. She stared compellingly up at him and he
+felt the warm force of her mind probing his with angry emphasis.
+
+“Tell me one thing—the truth,” she demanded. “_Are you Brann?_”
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER V
+                              _The Signal_
+
+
+The stars were glittering rayed circles of colored fire in the night
+sky. Miller lay staring for what seemed a long while, wondering vaguely
+what had wakened him. The wall before his bed was clear glass through
+which the night sky seemed to look in at him with its countless silver
+eyes. He had never seen the stars before, he knew now.
+
+With his other eyes, they had been only dots of brilliance, without
+pattern. Now he could see that there was indeed a pattern to their
+arrangement—one too vast for even his augmented mind to grasp but
+something he could recognize as being there, even though it lay outside
+the range of human understanding.
+
+He could see colors change and glitter in the discs of light that had
+been only points without dimension to his old sight. He could even make
+out dimly the shapes of continents on one or two of the planets. And
+there was a strange, distant, ringing music, almost inaudible, circling
+through the dark vault above.
+
+He knew now that it was no legend which told of the music of the spheres
+and the stars that sang together. Light-waves and sound-waves blended
+into a melody that was neither one nor the other, neither sight nor
+sound, but a beautiful medley of both.
+
+“Men in the old days must have heard it,” he thought to himself,
+half-asleep. “Maybe in ancient times they were still close enough
+to—_this_ state—to catch the echoes of the old music. . . .”
+
+Deep in the center of his drowsing mind a thought stirred that was not
+his own. “_Miller, Miller, are you awake?_”
+
+He framed the answer with an eerie feeling of double-mindedness. “Yes,
+Llesi. What is it?”
+
+“I want to talk to you. I’ve gathered enough strength now to last me
+awhile. What’s been happening? Are you safe?”
+
+Miller let a ripple of amusement run through his mind. “Thanks to you.
+Can you tell from my thoughts that I didn’t know what I was bringing
+into your castle? I didn’t mean to attack you.”
+
+“I believe that—with reservations. Does Orelle?”
+
+“She thought I was Brann. She may still think so though I hope I’ve
+convinced her.”
+
+“I can’t read your mind. But I must trust you—no more than I can avoid!
+Get up, Miller, and look toward Brann’s castle. I have a feeling of
+danger. I think that was what roused me. Something evil is coming our
+way.”
+
+Conscious of a slight chill at the gravity with which Llesi spoke,
+Miller rose. The floor was ineffably soft to his bare feet. He stepped
+out into the little glass bay that formed one side of the room. From
+there he could look down over the valley he had traversed that day. Far
+off lights glimmered at the height of a sheer cliff—Brann’s castle.
+
+“Why—I can see in the dark!” he exclaimed in surprise, staring out at
+the soft, dim landscape that seemed to be lit by a soil of invisible
+starshine so that details were delicately visible as they had never been
+before.
+
+“Yes, yes,” Llesi’s mental voice said impatiently. “Turn your eyes to
+the left—I want to see that wall of the valley. There—now
+right. . . .”
+
+The commands, couched in mental terms that took only a flashing fraction
+of the time words would have taken were almost like reflex commands from
+Miller’s own brain.
+
+“I think you’d better dress and go down to the Time Pool,” Llesi said at
+last. Miller could feel the profound uneasiness stirring in the
+disembodied mind that his own brain housed. “Hurry. There’s no guessing
+what unnatural thing Brann may have shaped to attack us. He wants you,
+Miller. Your coming brought our war to a climax and I know now he won’t
+stop until he gets you—or dies. It depends on you and me which thing
+happens.”
+
+There was a guard at Miller’s door—or the glass wall that melted like a
+door when he approached it. Llesi’s mental voice spoke and the guard
+nodded and followed down the long sloping ramp of the glass castle,
+through great, dim, echoing rooms, along corridors behind which the
+people of Orelle’s dwelling slept.
+
+They came out at last into a garden in the heart of the castle. Circled
+by glass walls, it lay dim and fragrant around the broad shallow pool in
+its center. Starlight shimmered in changing patterns on the water that
+rippled slightly in the wind.
+
+Miller found himself glancing up toward the wall-top without being sure
+whether the impulse was his own or Llesi’s. In a moment he knew, for
+there was a whispering rush and in obedience to some command from his
+own brain—and from Llesi’s—a domed roof of glass moved across the
+garden, closing it in.
+
+Now the starlight fell in prismed rays through the dome. It struck the
+pool in somehow focused patterns and the water seemed to respond to that
+unimaginably light pressure.
+
+Circles formed where the rays struck, formed and spread outward in
+interlocking rings that seemed to gather momentum instead of losing it,
+so that they were seething together in a very short time, breaking over
+one another in tiny waves, tossing up bubbles and foam. The pool boiled
+in the cool starlight.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+And among the boiling rings there were reflections. Pictures moved
+chaotically through one another, so rapidly and so bewilderingly that
+Miller grew dizzy as he watched. Once he thought he saw Tsi’s face with
+the rainbow hair disordered, streaming in the wind.
+
+Once he had a glimpse of himself, seen confusingly from the back,
+struggling against something that seemed to tower and stoop above him
+but the vision rolled under again before he could focus on it and the
+faces of strangers floated among bubbles to replace it.
+
+“Is it real?” he asked Llesi inaudibly. “Is this the future?”
+
+There was an impatient movement in his own mind. Llesi, who had been
+studying the pictures in the profoundest silence, said,
+“No—yes—partly. These are the likeliest futures. No one understands
+fully, but the theory is that somewhere in hyperspace all possible
+futures work themselves out from any given point.
+
+“And the light-rays—the pictures of all that happens—move on out into
+space endlessly. When the glass dome is closed starlight, falling
+through the moving rays, projects these pictures back into the pool for
+anyone to read who knows how. Men from time everlasting have tried to
+read the future in the stars but you can see from this how difficult it
+is and how unreliable even a trained mind can be when it has only this
+to work from.
+
+“One decision may alter all probable futures. And those are unstable,
+shifting and changing—no man can know the future with any certainty.
+But it’s possible to see dangers, sometimes, and prepare for
+them—though that may mean facing a worse peril later on. Wait—”
+
+In the pool a ripple took form at the impact of a reflection and began
+to spread. It showed the picture of a shifting, cloudy mass moving
+against the translucent water—but moving with a directive purpose,
+Miller thought. The background took form. He saw himself and Orelle in
+miniature with the cloud no longer shifting but swooping purposively
+above them.
+
+Another ripple collided violently with the first and the picture
+vanished in a burst of bubbles. But it took shape again in the next
+moment, though different now, with a shift in background. The ripples
+raced over that image and washed it out with another, like a
+not-quite-identical copy. Then he saw the castle in which he stood and
+it was, he thought, collapsing into ruins.
+
+That changed. He saw himself in tiny reflections, facing Tsi— And then
+a ripple washed across the pool in which he saw his own face and Slade’s
+and there was something inexplicably terrible about both.
+
+Shaken, he asked Llesi a mental question. Llesi answered him briefly.
+
+“If part of what you just saw happens, other parts can’t happen. But you
+saw that cloudy pillar? It appeared too often against too many
+backgrounds to be very far off in space or time. Brann is sending a
+warrior against us. Not a human warrior. I think we can expect the
+cloudy thing we saw quite soon, in one or another of the versions we’ve
+been watching.”
+
+“But what is it?”
+
+“I don’t know. Something dangerous—that much you can be sure of. I
+think we can defeat it, once we discover what it is. So far we’ve always
+been able to defeat Brann’s warriors, no matter what form they had.”
+
+“So far?” Miller asked. “And then someday—what?”
+
+Mentally Llesi shrugged. “Who knows? I, who read the future, realize
+better than most men that I have no way of guessing what is to come. I
+can see the possibilities here in the pool, I can foresee the worst
+dangers and prepare against them—but beyond that I can’t go. No. I
+don’t know what the outcome will be between Brann and me.”
+
+Miller said with abrupt decision, “You’ve looked too long in the Time
+Pool! You’ve been depending on what you see there to tell you what to
+do. Why not take the future into your own hands?”
+
+There was a curious stillness in his brain at that, as if Llesi were
+suddenly wary and watchful. Finally the voice that shared his mind spoke
+cautiously.
+
+“What do you suggest?”
+
+“Someday, if I understand you, Brann may succeed at last in creating a
+kind of warrior you can’t overcome. I saw this castle falling in one of
+those pictures in the pool, so I know it’s possible—no, even probable,
+that this thing he’s sending, or maybe the one after it, will be the one
+to destroy you. It that right?”
+
+Still caution and distrust ruled Llesi’s mind, but there was reluctant
+interest in the mental voice that said, “Go on. What are you thinking
+about?”
+
+“Brann wants one thing—the Power. Is that right?”
+
+“The Power and yourself, now. Yes,” Llesi answered.
+
+“So he’ll keep on attacking until he gets one or both. Why haven’t you
+attacked him first?”
+
+“Do you think we haven’t tried? Brann’s castle is invulnerable. We’ve
+failed and failed and failed again to force any entry by any means we
+know. But Brann’s failed, too, against us. It’s stalemate.”
+
+“It needn’t be. I have an idea.” Miller hesitated. “I won’t tell you
+now. You wouldn’t accept it. Later on, if things go wrong, maybe you’ll
+be willing to listen. Maybe—”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+From across the Time Pool, in the dimness of the garden, Orelle’s mental
+voice said clearly, “Don’t go on, Miller. Or are you really Brann?”
+
+Miller had the curious sensation in his brain that both he and Llesi had
+actually moved in the center of his skull, as he spun toward the dark
+tree where she stood watching.
+
+“How long have you been here, child?” Llesi said.
+
+“Long enough. I saw the cloudy thing coming in the Pool. I know what
+we’ve got to face—but not with treachery to make it even worse than it
+is. Oh, Llesi, won’t you let me kill him?”
+
+“Not yet,” Llesi said with a deadly sort of practicality. “Not yet,
+because you need me in the fight, and I’m helpless without this man. Nor
+am I wholly sure he can’t be trusted, Orelle.”
+
+“I heard what he was trying to suggest. Something treacherous—some way
+to help Brann win at last. Llesi, I’m afraid! This isn’t safe. I—”
+
+A flash of soundless white light without warning illumined the garden
+and the whole castle around it, so that every figure stood out in abrupt
+silhouette against the whiteness. As suddenly as it came, it went out,
+leaving momentary blindness behind it.
+
+Orelle caught her breath and said, “The signal! Llesi—hurry! Whatever
+it is, it must be almost here!”
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER VI
+                               _Invasion_
+
+
+They saw it first far off on the plain, moving toward them through the
+clear darkness. At first it seemed only a mist that drifted with the
+wind but, when the wind shifted, the grey fog came on. Its heart was
+thicker and dimly the eye could glimpse intricate matrices of light far
+inside the cloud, glittering patterns like diamond cobwebs arranged in
+lattice formations.
+
+Miller and Orelle, with Llesi a bodiless awareness beside them, stood at
+a glass wall looking out over the plain toward Brann’s castle.
+
+Llesi breathed softly. “I know that pattern. It’s a bad one. The thing’s
+brain and control and energy-source are in the bright matrix you see.
+Watch now.”
+
+The lattices shifted into new geometric formations and out of the cloud
+rippling, soft grey tentacles thrust, thickening as they moved.
+
+“That would be stronger than iron once it took shape,” Llesi was saying.
+“The pseudopod principle, of course. It will be a hard thing to fight.”
+
+They stood watching in silence while the grey cloud flowed forward with
+increasing speed until it was nearly within reaching distance of the
+castle. Far off, across the valley, the lights of Brann’s walls watched
+like eyes. Miller spoke impatiently.
+
+“Aren’t you going to do anything? Can’t you stop the thing?”
+
+“I could. But I want to see what new ideas Brann has incorporated into
+this. It’s better to know than to guess. If I destroy this he’ll just
+send another. I’m going to let it try the gate.”
+
+The cloud flowed up to the outer wall. . . paused . . . seemed to be
+considering the massive glass barrier before it. Then the lattices
+rearranged, glittering. A finger of greyness reached out, seeped through
+the crack between gate and wall.
+
+Metal groaned in the quiet of the night. That tiny pseudopod was
+expanding with monstrous force. The gate shivered, crumpled—gave way.
+
+Radiant shimmers of color flared down from the walls upon the cloudy
+thing as Llesi’s batteries went into action at last. In his own brain
+Miller could feel Llesi’s tense watchfulness as he waited to see how the
+creature would meet them.
+
+Its lattice-work heart shifted like a kaleidoscope. The clouds
+thickened, grew dark. It shrank—expanded again—and moved on into the
+castle, a wreathed thing of velvety blackness that swallowed up the
+attacking lights and ignored them.
+
+Now they lost sight of it but they could hear, partly through the
+vibrations of the castle walls themselves and partly through the
+confused mental cries of the people below them, the progress the machine
+was making. A transparent wall gave way before it and the crash of the
+collapse sent a terrible, ringing music all through the castle. There
+was the silent voiceless cry of a man caught in its unimaginable grip—a
+cry that shivered up to an unbearable peak in the brains of all who
+heard, and then went silent with a suddenness that made the listeners
+reel.
+
+Orelle seized Miller’s arm in a tight grip. “Come with me,” she said.
+“Hurry!”
+
+She was half-running as she led the way through the dark castle which
+was yet so clearly visible to the sight. The confusing halls were
+strange to him but before they reached their goal Miller was leading the
+way, Llesi in his brain sending out the mental orders that guided him,
+so that the corridors and doors and sloping glass ramps seemed to swing
+around and to fly open before him without the need of knowledge on his
+part.
+
+There was pandemonium below. Miller could feel the tension in Llesi’s
+mind and in Orelle’s as they raced toward the breached wall of their
+fortress. Llesi was unsure.
+
+“Maybe this is the one,” he said, half to himself, as the translucent
+walls spun past. “Maybe this one we can’t fight.”
+
+More than one wall had been breached by the time they reached the scene
+of the fight. The castle was filled with the jangling, musical crashes
+of shattered glass and the cries—some of them vocal cries now—of the
+defenders. But from the attacking machine itself no sound came.
+
+Miller saw it through jagged walls and over the heads of the castle’s
+men—a great coagulated cloud, velvet-soft and iron-hard, the colored
+lights of the defenders’ strange weapons beating upon it in vain. There
+were colors in the weapons such as Miller had never seen.
+
+“Photon showers,” Llesi told him briefly. “Very high-frequency light
+waves with an energy increase great enough to utilize the mass of the
+light. Those latticed patterns would be smashed by the impact—if we
+could reach them.
+
+“When you deal with anything as delicate as this you need a delicate
+weapon. The lattices would be impervious to heavy weapons but the mass
+of light itself could crush the patterns if I had some way to penetrate
+the cloud.”
+
+“The photons should do it,” Orelle said in a worried voice. “Always
+before—”
+
+“Brann has something new this time.”
+
+The cloud rolled on. Through the shattered walls they saw it engulf the
+men in its path, moving like a velvet-soft juggernaut that crushed all
+before it. It pressed its misty surface against another wall—there was
+a surging all through the mass and, briefly, a pattern of clouded lights
+glimmered deep in the smoky bulk.
+
+The castle rang with the jangled music of another falling wall.
+
+“It’s making straight for the Power,” Orelle said, quietly now. “Llesi,
+you’ve got to stop it.”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Miller felt in his own brain Llesi’s rapid, orderly thoughts,
+marshalling the facts and measuring against them his varied resources.
+Then, decisively, he spoke.
+
+“We must get to the Power first. I can stop it but we’ll have to hurry.”
+
+To Miller it seemed as if the castle spun around him again as, in
+obedience to the orders in his brain, he whirled and ran with Orelle at
+his heels. The corridors opened up before them, unfamiliar pathways
+looking strangely familiar to the double vision in his mind. Another
+wall smashed into ringing fragments behind them as they ran.
+
+With his new night-sight Miller could see a long way through the
+translucent walls of the glass castle. Lights had been kindled through
+the building now so that the glimmers, far and near, reflecting beyond
+intervening barriers, made the whole castle glow bewilderingly.
+
+But ahead of them, growing larger as they neared, was one part of the
+building that even this new sight could not penetrate. It was a great
+cube whose walls gave back the vision opaquely, as it loomed before
+them.
+
+Orelle pushed past him as they reached it, spread both hands flat upon
+the dark surface. It parted before her, melting away as the other walls
+melted to admit entry, and she pressed through into the hidden room.
+Miller followed her, his brain spinning with his own curiosity and the
+complicated planning of Llesi who shared it.
+
+Afterward Miller could never remember clearly what he had seen in that
+great dark room. He had only an impression in retrospect of an immense
+number of delicate shining things that might have been instruments—of
+countless rows of containers over which light seemed to ripple and play
+from within the colored holders, like votive lights seen far off down
+the aisle of a cathedral—of things without name or recognizable
+shape. . . .
+
+In the center of the room, hanging in the heart of a filligreed
+framework which it did not seem to touch anywhere, a clear transparent
+cube three feet through floated free. Within it a tilted halo of—of
+stars?—rotated slowly through the solid substance of the block. And
+very faintly, Miller thought he could hear music as it turned, the same
+music he had caught from the night sky, subsonic but still perceptible
+to his new senses.
+
+“The Power,” Orelle said, nodding toward the cube.
+
+Miller went forward slowly until he stood by the delicate framework
+within which the block floated. He could feel a slight pressure
+constantly beating out from the rotating stars, and at the same time a
+slight equal suction—an impossible sort of double force that did not
+equalize itself but kept him in a continual state of muscular
+readjustment to balance the opposite pulls while he stood within its
+range.
+
+He was trying to control the excitement that poured through him at his
+nearness to this unimaginable thing he had come so far to find. Slade
+would give all he had to possess it for, inexplicable as it was, there
+was a harnessed power in the mysterious thing unlike any power at man’s
+disposal in the lower world beyond Peak Seven Hundred.
+
+Then, in his brain, Llesi said impatiently, “Later you can examine it. I
+need you now, if we’re going to stop Brann’s beast. Turn around—go to
+the far wall, reach up to that container of blue light and. . . .”
+
+Miller’s conscious mind ceased to make sense out of the orders Llesi
+gave it but his body was obedient. He did not try to resist. He relaxed
+his own will and allowed Llesi full control, so that he was only dimly
+aware of what his body did in the next few minutes. His hands were busy,
+and there was an intense, quiet activity in his mind.
+
+An activity that gradually began to slow. Lights swelled and sank
+beneath his busy fingers. Heat and cold and other stranger sensations he
+could not name bathed his hands and arms, beat against his intent face
+bent above them. But into his mind slowly a sense of frustration crept.
+
+He made an effort to bring his own mind back into focus and asked Llesi
+a quick mental question.
+
+“I don’t know,” Llesi’s mind replied. “It isn’t easy. I think I can stop
+the thing but at a cost we can scarcely afford. And I could only do it
+once. Brann will know that. He’ll have only to send another just like it
+and—” The thought blanked out as if even in his subconsciousness Llesi
+did not want to shape the end of that idea.
+
+Miller put forth greater effort and shrugged off the inertia of his mind
+which had been necessary while Llesi worked. He was keenly alert now. He
+had a job to do.
+
+“Will you listen to me?” he asked. “I think I’ve got an answer—if
+you’ll trust me.”
+
+Llesi’s reply was wary but there was eagerness in it too. “What do you
+want us to do?”
+
+“Tell me first—can you duplicate this Power source?”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+With a double accord both Llesi and Miller turned to gaze at the
+floating cube with its lazily rotating halo of glittering light.
+
+“I can, yes,” Llesi said. “Why?”
+
+“Easily? Soon?”
+
+“Not in time to stop Brann’s creature, no. It would take several hours.”
+
+“Then,” Miller said, bracing himself for the storm he knew must follow
+his suggestion, “then I think you’ll have to let the thing downstairs
+take your Power and carry it back to Brann.”
+
+There was a mental explosion of fury and refusal.
+
+After it had died down, while Orelle still gazed at him with burning
+dark eyes full of distrust and hatred, and Llesi still smouldered angry
+thoughts in his brain, Miller went on.
+
+“I know—I know. In your place I’d feel the same. But look at it
+dispassionately if you can. Brann has you where he wants you now. You
+can only drive off this mechanism downstairs once and Brann can send
+another to take the Power source anyhow. If you stay passive you’re
+beaten. But listen to me—and maybe you can still win. Attack! Let the
+Power go—but follow it.”
+
+There was silence for a moment, while the two others digested this idea.
+Then Orelle said, “We could only follow to Brann’s walls. We’ve never
+been able to get into his castle and—”
+
+“Don’t you see, this is the only way! He’ll have to make room for the
+cube of the Power to enter. If we follow, there ought to be a way for us
+to force an entry too. Especially if he doesn’t suspect. Oh, I know—you
+think I _am_ Brann. I wish there were some way to—wait! Could you read
+my mind if I opened it to you? Would you believe me then?”
+
+Slowly Orelle said, “I think it might be possible. Are you willing to
+let me try?”
+
+Miller hesitated for a moment. There is a curious reluctance in the
+human mind to strip aside the last dark barrier that separates each
+individual from the world he lives in. The privacy of the mind is so
+jealously guarded a secret that not even if a man wills it can he wholly
+bare his thoughts to another. But unless Miller let Orelle into those
+innermost chambers there was little hope of success for any of them.
+
+“If I don’t,” he thought, “Brann will win, in the end. And if he
+wins—well, I have more to lose than anyone here.” Aloud, in his mental
+voice, he said to Orelle, “Yes—try if you’re able.”
+
+She smiled a little. “Let your mind go blank. Don’t offer any
+resistance—no, none at all—you _are_ resisting me, Miller. Let me have
+the truth. Brann—Brann . . . are you Brann? I must know. . . .”
+
+Her eyes held his and, as they had done once before, began to grow
+larger and larger until they blotted out the room and were a dark pool
+in which his consciousness was sinking. . . .
+
+“Thank you,” Orelle said quietly. “I’m sorry. You were telling me the
+truth all along—unless you’re more cunning than I think you are and
+know how to hide your secrets even deeper than the unconscious mind. I
+see that you mean us well. I see another thing, too—why you came here.”
+
+“Yes. You had to know that anyhow. It was why I asked about duplicating
+the Power cube.”
+
+“He wants to take it away with him, Llesi,” Orelle said and for the
+first time Miller realized that Orelle had been in even closer communion
+with his mind than Llesi himself, who dwelt in its very center. For
+Llesi had not seen the depths of it—he did not know what Orelle knew
+now.
+
+“To take it away?” Llesi demanded, incredulity in his thought. “But—”
+
+“Yes,” Orelle said quickly. “We could arrange for that, Llesi. If this
+plan works well owe him more reward than that.”
+
+“But Orelle,” Llesi persisted, “doesn’t he understand? Doesn’t he know
+that—”
+
+The thought ceased abruptly, and Miller had the uneasy feeling that the
+two were communicating on some higher plane of silence where he could
+not follow them. He was suddenly uneasy. There was something here he
+didn’t understand. The two of them knew something—about himself?—that
+he did not yet know, something that affected his future intimately.
+
+“What is it?” he demanded. “If I help you, I’ve a right to know.”
+
+Orelle turned to him, her dark eyes gentle now, the hatred and mistrust
+gone out of them. “There isn’t time,” she said. “Listen.”
+
+Far off, but audible through the opaque walls, the tinkle of falling
+glass came clearly to them.
+
+“It’s the machine,” Llesi said. “We haven’t time to waste now. If we
+follow your plan we mustn’t let it win too easily or Brann will suspect.
+Do you have any ideas of what to do after we enter Brann’s castle?”
+
+“Not yet,” Miller said almost absently. He was thinking hard about the
+strange little passage just ended. Until this moment he had not dared
+offer to open his whole mind for their inspection, because he had had
+nothing to bargain with. Inevitably Orelle would have seen that he
+wanted the Power and he had nothing to offer in return—until now.
+
+Well, it was a success in one way, but in another—failure? He couldn’t
+be sure. Oddly the balance had shifted and it was he who mistrusted his
+companions and they who believed at last that he could be depended on.
+Certainly they were hiding something vital from him.
+
+“Not yet,” he said again, forcing his mind to take up the immediate
+problem as the jangle of another falling barrier came more loudly
+through the walls. “I only know it’s easier to work on inspiration when
+you’re on the offensive—and once in Brann’s castle, we’ll need
+inspiration!
+
+“Brann’s—unbalanced. We know that. Push him farther off balance by
+attacking and maybe we’ll have an advantage. You know, there must be
+something important he’s hiding or he wouldn’t operate from the dark as
+he does. If we can see him face to face—well, who knows?”
+
+“When you say ‘we’,” Orelle interrupted, “whom do you mean?”
+
+“Myself. Llesi and me.”
+
+“And Orelle,” the girl said quietly.
+
+“Of course not! It’s going to be dangerous. Besides—”
+
+“No more dangerous to go than to wait for Brann’s vengeance if you fail.
+Tsi is my sister. I think I can control her and that should be a weapon
+you may need. You can’t take more than one or two with you if you hope
+to get in secretly so an army would do no good. But one companion—I
+think I could be useful to you, Miller.”
+
+“Llesi,” Miller said to the voice in his brain, “what do you think?”
+
+There was silence for a moment. “Let her come,” Llesi said. “What she
+says about Tsi is true enough. We may need her.”
+
+In the quiet a musical ringing of more breaking glass sounded clearer
+than before.
+
+“It’s coming,” Llesi said. “Now we have work to do. Are you ready,
+Miller? Take down that lens mounted on the tesseract and do as I tell
+you. We mustn’t let the machine win without a struggle. . . .”
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VII
+                         _Battle of the Titans_
+
+
+In the light of earliest dawn they could see it rolling toward them far
+off across the plain. Crouching under the loom of Brann’s castle walls,
+Miller and Orelle waited almost in silence. It had seemed wisest to
+hurry ahead by teleportation and take shelter while Brann was presumably
+occupying all his powers with the direction of his mechanical warrior as
+it broke down the walls of the Power chamber and seized at last the
+thing he had sought so long.
+
+Now the two watchers—three, for Llesi waited in Miller’s brain—saw the
+lazily turning halo of pointed lights which was the Power glowing
+through the cloudiness of the machine that carried it. Faintly the
+soundless music of its turning floated to their ears.
+
+“We’ll have no time to waste,” Llesi warned them. “Brann’s wanted the
+Power for a purpose, you know. Once he learns how to use it there’ll be
+no hope of controlling him. Whatever we do we must do fast.”
+
+“Can he learn quickly how to operate it?” Miller asked.
+
+“You’re thinking of yourself.” Llesi sounded amused. “Yes, it can be
+mastered without too much difficulty. But don’t think about it now,
+Miller. You have our promise. Be content with that.”
+
+Miller stirred restlessly. “You’re hiding something. I’ve opened my mind
+to you, Orelle. If I deserve any reward for what I’m helping you do I
+deserve the truth from you. What is it?”
+
+Orelle shook her head. “Don’t ask us now. I’ll tell you if we come out
+of this alive. But it will only distract you now. I promise you it’s
+nothing that will affect our plans to conquer Brann. You need all your
+thoughts to do that. Afterward there’ll be time to talk of other things.
+Look—it’s nearly here. I wonder where Brann means to let it into the
+castle.”
+
+The music of the turning stars was clearer now. Miller could feel
+remotely that extraordinary attraction-repulsion action which the Power
+constantly exerted—it was so near to them as they crouched in hiding.
+The machine rolled its cloudy bulk past them, almost brushing their
+faces with the periphery of its mist, and moved up over the jumble of
+rocks that bordered Brann’s castle.
+
+It pressed close against the surface of the wall. Light glowing down
+from that extraordinary barrier which ran like water and shone like fire
+cast colored shadows upon the mist, so that it was like a cumulus of
+sunset-lighted cloud as it flattened itself against the wall.
+
+Miller could see Orelle’s anxious face lighted with strange hues from
+the water-wall as she watched. He held his breath.
+
+Within the sunset cloud patterns of latticed diamond moved and shifted.
+The wall surface dimmed as if a breath had blown upon it. Darkness grew
+where the dimness was—and suddenly a door had opened in the streaming
+water-light of the barrier.
+
+“Now!” Llesi breathed. “Now—follow it in!” She rushed forward.
+
+There was one breathless, heart-stopping moment when the rocks turned
+beneath their feel and Orelle, stumbling, nearly fell. The darkness of
+the opened door was already beginning to mist over with solidity when
+they reached it.
+
+“Dangerous.” Llesi’s thought flashed through Miller’s brain,
+lightning-like, far faster than it takes to express in words. “If we
+miss the turn of the wall-substance we’ll be caught in the solid mass.
+Hurry! Never mind making a noise. Hurry!”
+
+It was like pushing through a thin jelly of darkness that gave way
+readily enough but thickened perceptibly even as they moved. “Don’t
+breathe!” Llesi warned them. “Hold your breath if you can—I think
+you’ll be through in a moment.”
+
+The substance of the wall was a stiff, scarcely yielding stuff by the
+time they pushed free into clear air. They had made it with nothing to
+spare. Orelle reached back to touch the surface with a wondering hand as
+soon as she caught her breath, and the way they had come was already a
+solid resilient surface that lost its resilience as she pressed it and
+became hard unyielding wall again.
+
+They stood in a steeply sloping corridor that echoed with the thin
+voiceless music of the Power. Ahead of them the slowly spinning stars
+were visible through cloudy grey moving rapidly up the ramp away from
+them.
+
+Silently they followed.
+
+They were far down under the main floors of the castle. On their left,
+as they climbed the steep ramp, the wall of flowing light moved
+ceaselessly, tracing their shadows in the inner wall of the corridor.
+
+“Somewhere there must be guards,” Orelle said.
+
+“I’d feel better if we’d seen some before now,” Llesi told them
+uneasily. “I have a feeling Brann may be more omniscient than we know.”
+
+The ramp came to a steep end and turned back upon itself in a second
+long zig-zag rise. They toiled up in the wake of the cloudy robot that
+carried the Power. Still no guards.
+
+The ramp zig-zagged twice more and then there was a great open area,
+like a spacious chimney, rising overhead. The ramp had ended. Lightly,
+like the cloud it was, the robot left the ground. Teleportation carried
+it out of sight with startling swiftness. From high above the sound of
+voices drifted down the well, laughter, music.
+
+Without a word Orelle put out her arm and clasped Miller’s hand. A
+moment later the ground no longer pressed his feet. The light-wall slid
+down past them like a Niagara of colored water.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+The hall in which Brann held court was a vast domed circle. In the
+center of it rose a dais—and over the dais a curtain of darkness hung
+in straight columnar folds from the great height of the ceiling, veiling
+the platform. On its steps a woman was sitting, a stringed instrument on
+her knee. Rainbow hair swung forward about her shoulders as she bent her
+head and swept a hand across the strings. Wild, high music rang through
+the room.
+
+Someone called, “Brann! Where is Brann?” and the woman looked up,
+smiling. It was Tsi.
+
+“He’ll be here. He’s coming. He expects guests,” she said and looked
+straight across the room toward the far wall where, in an alcove, the
+robot stood motionless, enshrouding the Power in a misty cloud.
+
+Behind the robot, huddled against the alcove wall, Miller felt Orelle’s
+fingers tighten upon his. So long as the robot stood quiet, they were
+hidden behind its foggy outlines. When it moved—
+
+“She means us,” Orelle whispered. “I know Tsi. What shall we do?”
+
+“Wait,” Llesi counseled. “Listen.”
+
+In the great room beyond, where Brann’s court of brilliantly robed men
+and women lounged on divans that seemed cushioned with substance as
+immaterial as mist, a discontented cry was beginning to rise. Many
+mental voices blended in the clamor now.
+
+“Brann! Call him up, Tsi, call him up! Tell him the robot’s here. We
+want Brann again!”
+
+Tsi swept the strings musically. “He’s still asleep, down below,” she
+said. “I’m not sure if I dare wake him yet. Shall I try?”
+
+“Go down and call him,” someone urged, petulance in the voice that
+spoke. “We’ve waited too long already. Call him, Tsi!”
+
+Tsi smiled. “His visitors must be here by now,” she said maliciously.
+“Yes, I’ll go down and waken Brann.” She laid the harp on the steps and
+rose.
+
+At the same moment Miller felt a surge of force suddenly burst into
+blinding violence in the center of his brain. For an instant he was
+stunned by the power that seemed to pour tangibly forth from him and
+through him. . . .
+
+The robot that had screened them from view rose from the floor, lightly
+as a cloud, drifted forward over the heads of the gaping audience and
+turned suddenly incandescent just above the dais where Tsi stood.
+
+Miller knew it was Llesi’s doing, even before the quiet voice in his
+brain said, “This is the best way, after all. Attack. You were right,
+Miller. Now watch.”
+
+The robot was pure flame now. With a detached part of his mind Miller
+understood that it must have been deactivated once its mission was
+completed, so that any mind which teleported it now could do with it as
+it would. Llesi chose to destroy it in as spectacular a manner as he
+could contrive.
+
+Out of the blinding cloud of its dissolution the cube of the Power fell,
+the singing halo in it turning with slow, indifferent steadiness. The
+transparent block struck the steps a yard from where Tsi stood. It
+struck—and crashed through, splitting the white marble from top to
+floor. Tsi staggered.
+
+The crash rang from the high vaults above, rebounding from arch to arch
+in distant, diminishing echoes that came slowly back to the watcher
+below, long after the dais had ceased to vibrate.
+
+Tsi recovered her balance, turned on the shattered steps, looked
+straight across the hall to the alcove where Miller and Orelle stood.
+
+She was shaken but she had not lost her poise.
+
+“Sister!” she said, “Welcome to Brann’s castle. Shall I call him to
+greet you?”
+
+From Orelle a strong steady thought went out, compelling and quiet.
+
+“Tsi, sister, you must do as you think best. Is it best for us that
+Brann be called?”
+
+The woman on the dais hesitated. Miller could see that the quiet
+confidence in Orelle’s mental voice has shaken her a little. He knew now
+what Orelle had meant when she said she could control Tsi.
+
+It was a simple matter of sister speaking to sister with the voice of
+authority, calling back to mind the precepts of conscience and childhood
+training. Tsi was not, he thought, evil as Brann was evil. She was weak,
+certainly—and perhaps the weakness would stand them in good stead.
+
+She said uncertainly, “Orelle, I think perhaps—” But the voices from
+the audience around her, rising with sudden violence, drowned out
+whatever it was she meant to say. Miller was reminded of Roman audiences
+clamoring for blood in the arena.
+
+“Brann, _Brann_!” the voices howled. “Waken Brann! Go call him up to
+meet his guests! _Brann_, waken from your sleep! Brann, _Brann_, do you
+hear us?”
+
+Tsi hesitated a moment longer. Miller was aware of a desperate stream of
+thought-waves pouring out from Orelle beside him but the noise of the
+assembled people was too strong for her. She could not get through to
+her sister. Tsi turned suddenly, putting both hands to her face, and
+stumbled up the broken steps toward the dais.
+
+The long curtains that hung a hundred feet or more from the height of
+the ceiling trembled down all their dark length as she put them aside
+and vanished into the big tent they made, hiding the platform.
+
+There was a moment’s profound silence.
+
+Then Miller said quietly to Orelle, “Come on,” and, seizing her hand,
+strode forward across the floor. He had no idea what he meant to do but
+if he had come to attack then attack he must—not stand waiting for
+Brann to make an entrance on his throne.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Heads turned avidly to watch their progress across the great room. No
+one made a move to block their way, but eager eyes watched every motion
+they made and searched their faces for expression. This was the
+audience, Miller thought grimly, that would have watched Brann’s
+terrible “experiments” upon him if he had not escaped from the
+castle—with Tsi’s help. It was the audience, he realized, that might
+yet watch, if he failed.
+
+Llesi was silent in his brain, waiting.
+
+They were almost at the steps when the curtains stirred as if a breath
+of wind had blown through the hall. Tsi’s voice came weakly from the
+hidden place, “Wait, Brann—you mustn’t—”
+
+But drowning out the feeble protest another voice sounded clear. Miller,
+hearing that thin, sweet, sneering pattern which was the mental voice he
+had heard before, the voice of Brann, felt a chill sliding down his
+spine and a tightening of all his muscles. It was a hateful, a
+frightening voice, evoking a picture of a hateful man.
+
+“Come out, Brann!” Miller said strongly. “Unless you’re afraid of
+us—come out!”
+
+Behind him in the hall two or three intrepid voices echoed the
+invitation. “Come out Brann! Let us see you. You aren’t afraid,
+Brann—come out!” He knew from that how high curiosity must run even in
+Brann’s stronghold and he realized that not even here, then, had Brann
+ever yet showed his face. It made him a little more confident. If Brann
+had so much to hide, then, there must be weaknesses behind that curtain
+upon which he could play.
+
+He said, “Here’s the Power you wanted, Brann. We broke your platform but
+here it is waiting. Do you dare come out and look at it?”
+
+Brann said nothing. But his thin, sardonic laughter rang silently
+through the hall.
+
+Miller felt it rasping his nerves like something tangible. He said
+roughly, “All right then—I’ll come and bring you out!” And he set his
+foot firmly on the lowest step.
+
+A breath of excitement and anticipation ran rippling through the hall.
+Llesi was still silent. Orelle’s hand in Miller’s squeezed his fingers
+reassuringly. He mounted the second step, reached out his free hand for
+the curtain. . . .
+
+There was a deep, wrenching sound of stone against stone, and under his
+feet the steps lurched sickeningly. And then he was falling.
+
+The walls spun. The floor tilted up to strike him a solid blow—that did
+not touch him. For some firm, supporting mind closed its protection
+around his body and he floated gently a dozen feet and came to solid
+footing again, dazed but unhurt.
+
+The marble block of steps lay upturned upon the floor. Teleportation
+again, he realized. Brann had uprooted the steps he had climbed to
+prevent him from reaching the curtain. And someone—Llesi or Orelle—had
+reached out a mental beam to teleport him to safety.
+
+Brann’s cold clear laughter rang silently through the hall. He had not
+yet spoken. He did not speak now but his derision was like vitriol to
+the ears and the mind. Brann was waiting. . . . Somehow Miller could
+sense that, as he waited, an eagerness and impatience went out from him
+toward that block of transparence on the broken steps, where the halo of
+the Power revolved on its singing axis.
+
+Llesi realized it in the same instant and Miller felt in his brain the
+beginnings of some plan take shape—too late. For now there was a
+strange heaviness in the very air about him—a familiar heaviness. . . .
+This was the weapon Brann had used on him once before, turning the air
+itself to a crushing weight that had all but smashed his ribs in upon
+the laboring lungs.
+
+He felt his knees buckle under that sudden, overwhelming pressure. The
+air screamed around him and the vast hanging curtains of the dais
+billowed with a serpentine motion as displaced air moved with hurricane
+suddenness through the great room. Miller’s breath was stopped in his
+chest by that unbearable pressure. His ears sang and the room swam redly
+before him. Brann’s careless laughter was a distant ripple of sound.
+
+Power from outside himself gathered in Miller’s brain, gathered and
+spilled over in a wave like molten flame. He felt it gush out toward the
+platform where Brann sat hidden. But he was blind and deaf with the
+crushing weight of that suddenly ponderable air.
+
+Even above his own deafness and the shriek of the unnatural wind in the
+room he heard the scream of riven marble. And the weight upon him
+lessened a little. He could see again. He could see the great block of
+stone uprooted with jagged edges from the broken floor at the foot of
+Brann’s dais.
+
+It seemed to tear itself free, to leap into the air of its own
+volition—to hurtle toward Brann’s curtains as if Brann’s castle itself
+had suddenly turned upon him with great jagged stone fangs. In his brain
+Miller could feel the tremendous, concentrated effort of Llesi’s
+teleportation, balancing the marble weapon and guiding it on its course.
+
+The weight upon him ceased abruptly. The release was so sudden that the
+congested blood drained from Miller’s brain and for an instant the great
+room swam before him. In that moment of faltering the hurtling marble
+fragment faltered too and Llesi and Miller together struggled with the
+faintness of Miller’s overtaxed brain.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Brann seized the opening that brief hesitation gave him. He could not
+stop the flying weapon but he could block it. . . . A broken segment of
+the marble steps flew up in the path of the oncoming boulder, grated
+against it, deflected its course.
+
+The two struck together upon the dais steps and thundered down them with
+a ponderous sort of deliberation, bounding from step to step, their
+echoes rolling from the high ceiling. They went crashing across the
+floor, ploughing into the divans where Brann’s court had lain watching
+this unexpected sight.
+
+The screams of the watchers as the great marble blocks rolled down upon
+them added a frenzied accompaniment to the echoes of thunder wakened by
+the stone itself. The room was a tumult of sound re-echoing upon sound.
+
+Miller felt a renewed outpouring of Llesi’s power move in his brain. He
+saw a gigantic marble pillar across the room stagger suddenly on its
+base, crack across, lean majestically outward and fall. But it did not
+strike the floor. Instead it hurtled headlong, jagged end first, toward
+the dais.
+
+Above it the ceiling buckled. There was a terrible shriek of metal upon
+stone as the vaulted roof gave way. But the falling debris, in turn, did
+not strike the floor. Deflected in a rain of shattered marble, it moved
+to intercept the flying pillar. Column and broken stone together crashed
+to the ground at the very foot of Brann’s dais.
+
+The great hall was full of the shrieks of the scattering court, the
+cries of men caught beneath the falling ceiling, the uproar of echo upon
+echo as Brann’s throne room collapsed in thunderous noise upon its own
+floor.
+
+When the thunder ceased all who could flee had vanished. Half the
+ceiling lay in fragments upon the floor and Miller stood dizzily looking
+up at the dais whose long curtains still billowed in the wind. Brann was
+silent for a moment as if gathering his resources for another try. And
+Llesi was whispering,
+
+“My strength is failing, Miller. I can’t keep it up much longer. I’m
+going to try one last thing. I’ve got to know what it is Brann’s hiding.
+Help me if you can—and watch!”
+
+For an instant there was silence. Then, from far overhead, a long
+shudder began and rippled down the length of those vast hanging curtains
+which shrouded Brann’s dais. Stone groaned deeply upon stone in the
+ceiling.
+
+From the hidden platform Brann shrieked a soundless, “_No!_” as the
+block from which the curtains hung tore itself free of the vault above
+and came crashing down to rebound from the shattering pavement.
+
+The curtains themselves fell far more slowly. Like smoke they wavered in
+the air, collapsing softly, deliberately, parting to one side and the
+other. . . .
+
+Miller could see Brann trying to stop that fall. Invisibly the forces of
+his mind seemed to claw at their drifting lengths. But there was
+something wrong now in Brann’s mind. Even Miller could sense it.
+
+A dissolution was taking place that the mind felt and shrank from.
+Something worse than hysteria, more frightening than fear itself. Llesi
+was suddenly intent and Orelle caught her breath.
+
+Like smoke the last fragments of the curtains parted, lying to left and
+right along the broken floor, far out, in long swaths of shadow.
+
+On the platform stood Brann. . . .
+
+The figure that had terrorized such a multitude for so long stood
+swaying, clutching a black cloak about it as if to hide the shape of the
+body beneath. The face was contorted into a terrible grimace of anger
+and cold grinning hate. But the face itself was one they had all seen
+before.
+
+It was the face of Tsi.
+
+Her eyes were closed. She did not look at them nor speak nor move. And,
+Miller thought to himself, as Brann perhaps she had never opened her
+eyes. As Brann perhaps that grimace of chill hate always distorted her
+features. For it was clear to them all now that Tsi was mad.
+
+“Schizophrenia,” Miller thought automatically. “Split personality.” But
+there was no answering thought from Llesi or from Orelle. Stunned
+amazement held them both frozen.
+
+Tsi turned her unseeing eyes to Orelle. In Brann’s thin, cold,
+high-pitched voice-pattern she said, “Now you know. Now you’ve seen
+Brann. But before I kill you both, tell me—Orelle, _where is Tsi?_”
+
+Miller felt a cold shudder ripple over him.
+
+
+
+
+                              CHAPTER VIII
+                          _The Consuming Fire_
+
+
+At the same moment he realized that Orelle and Llesi could not help him
+against—Brann. Their thoughts came into his mind with a stunned,
+incredulous tinge of astonishment, a blank bafflement that, strangely,
+seemed to leave them helpless. And Miller thought he knew why.
+
+Orelle and Llesi and all their race had been conditioned to mental
+perfection. Never before in their history, he sensed, had there been any
+case of mental aberration. The race had been too perfect for that. And
+now, faced with the pattern of schizophrenic split-personality, they
+were utterly unable to comprehend its meaning. It was too alien to them.
+
+Insanity had never before existed in Orelle’s race.
+
+Miller sent a frantic message to Llesi—inchoate confused
+memory-pictures from his scant knowledge of psycho-therapy. But Llesi
+did not understand. Instead he suddenly closed his mind. And, beside
+Miller, Orelle, too, closed her mind against a concept so shocking to
+this race that worshiped mental perfection that they could not
+consciously face it.
+
+The blind figure on the dais bent forward. “Orelle. . . .” it said.
+
+So Brann did not know that the other half of his mind belonged to Tsi.
+Naturally! Brann would not know that he was a half, an incomplete split
+personality. Nor would Tsi know that Brann was part of herself. What
+curious warp in the inherited genes had brought about this cleavage
+Miller never knew, but he did not think about that now.
+
+He stepped forward.
+
+“Brann!” he called.
+
+“So you are back.” The thought came coldly into his mind. “Well, the
+machine I tricked you into carrying failed to kill Llesi but I’ll remedy
+that soon enough. As for you. . . .” Thin mental laughter mocked Miller.
+
+He felt sweat crawling down his forehead. “Wait,” he thought urgently.
+“I can tell you where Tsi is.”
+
+He sensed a hesitancy and then an urgent, straining question.
+
+“Where? _Where is she?_”
+
+“You are—”
+
+Miller felt the mind on the dais close swiftly against the thought.
+Brann would not let himself listen to the truth. He could not.
+
+Brann thought. “Well? Answer me?”
+
+Troubled, uncomprehending, Orelle and Llesi waited and listened. And
+suddenly Miller knew the answer. He unbuckled the wrist-watch from his
+arm. Orelle had returned it to him, the deadly lightning machine
+removed. As a timepiece it was useless but habit had made Miller keep
+the watch.
+
+“Take this,” he said.
+
+Brann—Tsi—waited.
+
+Miller held it up. “It’s not dangerous any more. Can’t you tell that?”
+
+“A trick. You know nothing of what I wish to know. Why should I waste
+time on any of you?”
+
+“If you want to find Tsi,” Miller thought, “you must take this thing.
+Unless you’re afraid to find her.”
+
+The watch spun from his hand and shot glittering across the room. It was
+in Brann’s hand.
+
+Miller drew a long breath. “Turn it over. That’s it. Hold it up before
+your face. Yes. Now . . . open your eyes.”
+
+“My eyes will not open.”
+
+“Open them!”
+
+“They have never opened.”
+
+Tension sang through the still air. Miller felt Orelle’s sudden movement
+toward him.
+
+“If you open your eyes you will find Tsi.”
+
+That was the gap in the armor. That was the one thing that could pierce
+Brann’s insane half-mind. The blind white eyelids quivered . . . the
+long lashes lifted, slowly, slowly. . . .
+
+Brann’s eyes looked into the polished steel back of the watch. In that
+tiny mirror Brann’s eyes looked into—Tsi’s!
+
+Tsi’s eyes—wide, horrified—stared into Brann’s!
+
+There was no protection against the mental avalanche that roared out
+from that rocking, screaming mind—the two minds—in the single body of
+Tsi. For the first time Brann saw the girl he had searched for since his
+strange birth. And for the first time Tsi saw her own face twisted,
+distorted, into the grimace of chilly hatred that was irrevocably
+stamped on Brann’s features.
+
+But what Miller felt was—pity. It was the basic principle of mental
+therapy—making the patient face his problem squarely. But no ordinary
+human schizophrenic had ever thus had the curtains of his brain ripped
+away with such sudden violence. The normal human brain has automatic
+safeguards against such intrusion.
+
+Tsi was of another race—a race mentally developed to a tremendously
+high standard. She had been warped before birth though the madness had
+remained latent for a long time—but her mind was nevertheless powerful
+enough to be able to face the shocking incredible truth.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+She had never been evil, as was Brann—weak, yes, but incapable of that
+cold cruelty her alter ego loved.
+
+Face to face, for a thunderous, eternity-long instant, the two
+stood—good and evil mated, monstrously wedded in one body and one
+brain. The silence roared.
+
+Then the hand that held the mirror dropped. The face of Tsi swung round
+so that her mad, wild, terrified eyes met Miller’s—and he read
+destruction there. The double mind looked out of those eyes into his and
+for an instant it was as if both Tsi and Brann spoke to him—as he had
+first heard them speaking when he woke in this incredible world.
+
+But then they had not known the truth. It had been a split mind talking
+to itself, good and evil debating together and not guessing they were
+housed in a single brain. Now they knew. At some point in the past the
+evil inherent in Tsi had lost its battle with the good in her—and
+pulled free of the control of her conscious mind. It had called itself
+by a new name, given itself a masculine identity to disguise its origin
+still further, grown so strong that not even Tsi could control it any
+longer.
+
+Brann was abhorrent to Tsi. And to Brann the knowledge that Tsi was
+himself was a thing he could not face. The split mind, rocking on its
+foundation, reached out into Miller’s mind with a mad destructive
+violence.
+
+“You brought ruin on me!” cried the double voice. “You wrecked my castle
+and my life! You must die and all your kind with you!”
+
+The eyes caught Miller’s in a drowning stare. He could not look away,
+and the eyes were growing larger and larger, engulfing him in darkness
+and in the darkness the madness of two minds swirled terribly, carrying
+away his own sanity on those dreadful, reasonless vortices. . . .
+
+Miller could no longer see Orelle but he heard her moan, a soft whimper
+of helpless terror. “I can’t—help you,” she was saying from far away.
+“I can’t fight the two of them. Llesi—_Llesi_—where are you?”
+
+For a moment there was no answer. The mad twin-mind buffeted at Miller’s
+from both sides at once, pulling it asunder, spinning in two opposite
+directions and straining him apart between them. No single mind could
+withstand the doubled strength of that split brain dragging him down to
+madness. . . .
+
+And then, suddenly, he was not fighting alone. Out of the darkness
+Llesi’s mind came swiftly, intangibly, yet with a strength as if the man
+himself had set his shoulder against Miller’s, bracing him against the
+whirlpool whose vortex led down to insanity.
+
+Perhaps no other mind in existence could have stood against the riven
+mind of Brann-Tsi. But in Miller’s brain too a double mind had been
+housed—his own and Llesi’s. They had learned to work together. And now
+they could fight. . . .
+
+There was a voiceless scream of fury—Brann’s thin, high, sweet-toned
+rage. And the buffeting redoubled from two sides at once. But now there
+were two minds to meet the attack. Miller drew a deep breath and set
+himself stubbornly against the whirling drag that was pulling him down
+to darkness. He could feel the strong resistance of Llesi’s mind,
+fighting beside his own, struggling hard against the double pull.
+
+For a timeless moment the vortex held them both. In that roaring
+silence, while madness raved about them, neither side seemed able to
+shake the others. Attacker and attacked stood matched so perfectly that
+the balance might have held forever with the fury of the split mind
+screaming its soundless cry in infinity.
+
+Then the scream shivered up to a peak of madness that no sane mind could
+sustain. And while the vortex still rang with it . . .
+
+The robed figure on the dais moved suddenly. Miller’s blindness lifted
+again. He could see the dark robe stream back from Tsi’s rainbow
+garments as she plunged down the steps toward the crystal block, where
+the halo of the Power turned in its singing silence.
+
+A bolt of the mind reached out before her toward the halo—a summoning
+bolt. One quivering thought shook the air of the room. Death was the
+thought. Tsi and Brann could not live together in the same brain and
+face the knowledge of their oneness. There was no choice but death for
+them now.
+
+The bolt of white lightning blazed up to meet that plunging figure in
+answer to its summons. Blazed up and swallowed Tsi—and Brann.
+
+There was a shimmer in the air where the body and the twin mind had
+hovered. And then—nothing. . . .
+
+
+
+
+                               CHAPTER IX
+                              _Fairy Gold_
+
+
+Miller found himself sitting on the broken marble steps with his head in
+his hands. How long a time had passed he had no idea. Orelle’s touch on
+his shoulder made him look up at last. She was smiling a little but her
+eyes were grave.
+
+“Are you all right now?” she asked. “You’re safe. We’re all safe, thanks
+to you. I’m glad I’ve never known your world if you could understand a
+thing like that—that madness. But I’m glad you did understand it—for
+our sakes. You saved us, Miller. You can ask your own reward.”
+
+He looked at her groggily, thinking with incongruous steadiness that he
+was probably suffering from shock now and not really responsible. But he
+glanced involuntarily toward the crystal block of the Power.
+
+Orelle’s smile was sad. “Yes,” she said, “we can make you a duplicate if
+you ask us. But it would be effort wasted in the end.”
+
+He stared at her, not understanding. Then his eyes went beyond her to
+the shattered wall and the beautiful shining day outside. New senses
+were burgeoning in him and he could sense in that glittering sunlight
+colors and sounds and glories beyond anything words could tell.
+
+The air was a tangible thing against his cheek, velvet soft, sweeter
+than perfume. He was beginning to perceive new shapes moving dimly on
+the edge of vision, as if there were a whole unknown world just now
+slowly unveiling before his freshly opened eyes.
+
+Miller laughed suddenly. “I know what you mean,” he said. “I must be
+stupid, not to have seen it until now. Of course I won’t want a
+duplicate of the Power. Why should I? I’m not going back to Slade. I’d
+be crazy if I left a paradise like this. What good would a duplicate do
+me when I’m staying on here—forever!”
+
+Orelle shook her shining head. Her eyes were very sad. In a gentle voice
+she began to speak. And Llesi’s voice, gentle too in the dimness of his
+mind, spoke with her.
+
+Very quietly they told him the truth.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+“So you know now it was fairy gold,” the Belgian said, sliding the
+bottle across the table. “Well, I could not have made you believe. You
+had to experience it yourself.”
+
+Miller looked at nothing.
+
+Van Hornung glanced toward the fire, shivered and reached out a stubby
+finger toward the dull cube on the table between them.
+
+“Drink,” he said.
+
+Slowly Miller obeyed. There was a long silence.
+
+Finally Van Hornung said, “It is—still the same up there? The castles
+and the wonderful people and the—colors? But it would be. The colors—I
+was an artist once. I think the colors meant most to me. There were so
+many we do not know.”
+
+“Orelle told me,” Miller said dully. “I wouldn’t believe her. I didn’t
+want to believe her.”
+
+“There are the legends, Miller,” Van Hornung said. “You and I aren’t the
+first. We won’t be the last. There have always been stories of humans
+who visit Paradise for a little while—and leave again. I’m no
+scientist. I never knew why—”
+
+Miller glanced up. His eyes brightened a little.
+
+“It was an unstable compound,” he said. “There was an atomic change, you
+see. The Path does that. Your atomic structure shifts to something quite
+different. When you’re like that you can talk with your mind, without
+words.”
+
+“I know,” the Belgian said. “I do not talk much any more. It is never
+the same, after that.”
+
+“Will it ever. . . ?”
+
+Van Hornung said quietly, “We were like gods for a little while. We ate
+the food of the gods. Can we expect mortal food to please us after
+that?”
+
+Miller nodded in silence. To go back to his old world, to live his old
+life would be meaningless now—like going back to blindness after
+knowing sight in a brighter world than this. He had had a taste of this
+once, in Orelle’s castle, while they searched him with piercing
+electronic eyes for the weapon he did not know he carried. That had been
+an illusion and a foretaste of this death-in-life which he must live now
+until he died—as the Belgian had been living.
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+He remembered how the mountain-top world had begun to fade around him,
+Orelle’s pitying face growing ghostlike, the glass walls of her castle
+turning to mist and the wonderful nameless colors of her gardens
+thinning away to nothingness while the snow-covered peaks took shape
+solidly behind them.
+
+There had been a little time longer, after Brann’s defeat, for him to
+enjoy the last days of Paradise. He had refused to believe it could end
+at all. He had shut his mind to the instability of his change, to the
+fact that he had been himself an isotope created by a temporary
+radioactive atomic shift so that, when the quantum energy was released,
+the atomic pattern must revert to its former state. And in one terrible,
+fading instant the familiar prison of his own senses closed around him
+once more as the lovely world of Peak Seven Hundred went volatile and
+vanished.
+
+The last thing to go was the little cube Llesi had made for him with the
+singing halo of the Power turning in miniature within it. When the waste
+of glacial ice was all that remained of the invisible castle he went
+slowly down the mountain again, walking, he knew, through fields of
+glowing flowers he could never see again. And now it was the ice and
+snow that seemed illusion—the vanished summer world the only real thing
+in life.
+
+He kept taking the cube out and looking at it as he descended the lower
+slopes. After awhile it seemed dimmer than he remembered, the singing
+fainter. When he reached the valley the glow was gone entirely. The cube
+was non-radioactive lead, inert and useless. Fairy gold, the legends
+said, was glittering in your hands when the immortals put it there—but
+when you looked again it had always turned to leaves and pebbles.
+
+Van Hornung said, “What will you do now?”
+
+Miller shrugged. “Is anything worth doing?”
+
+“Not for me, any longer. After you have seen the colors and used your
+mind to its fullest, there is nothing worth the effort of doing in this
+world below. Stay with me if you like. It does not matter.”
+
+Behind Miller the door opened quietly. Slade walked into the room. When
+he saw Miller his jaw dropped slightly.
+
+“_Miller!_ What’s the matter with you? When did you get in?”
+
+“Just now.”
+
+“Did you get it?”
+
+“Get what?” Miller said dully.
+
+“The energy-source!” Slade thrust his face down to Miller’s, the feral
+eyes narrowing, the thin lips tight. Seeing him, Miller thought suddenly
+of Brann. The same irresponsible power, dangerous, hungry, admitting no
+discipline but its own desires.
+
+He was glad, in a casual way, that Slade could never use the Power.
+Slade could do harm enough, had done more than harm enough, with only
+his own driving unscrupulous brain to guide him. Once armed with a thing
+like the Power. . . .
+
+“I left it where I found it,” Miller said indifferently. “Up on the
+Peak.”
+
+“How can we get it?” Slade demanded urgently. “An expedition?”
+
+“You can have it for the asking—up there.” A slow idea took shape in
+Miller’s mind. Sardonically he said, “Look for the red path at the foot
+of the cliff. Follow it. Go on up and you’ll have no trouble finding
+your energy-source. That’s all I’m going to say. We’re through, Slade.
+Get out.”
+
+And he would say no more though it was ten minutes before Slade
+exhausted his threats and arguments and left. Miller smiled wryly at the
+Belgian.
+
+“He’ll go. You couldn’t keep him away. And you know what will happen.”
+
+“What happened to us. But—why did you send him?”
+
+                 *        *        *        *        *
+
+Miller stared out the window at the snowy cone of Peak Seven Hundred,
+white and empty against the sky.
+
+“I hated Slade once,” he said. “That doesn’t matter how. But where men
+like Slade go there’s cruelty and misery and suffering. I can at least
+spare a few other men what I’ve gone through from him. He’ll come
+back—as we are. As for the Power—yes, it’s fairy gold.”
+
+The Belgian said softly, “. . .’amid such greater glories that we are
+worse than blind.’”
+
+Miller nodded. “The Power and the Glory. Some day our race may achieve
+it. But it has to be earned.”
+
+He reached for the bottle.
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE POWER AND THE GLORY ***
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+<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The power and the glory, by Henry Kuttner</p>
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+<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: The power and the glory</p>
+<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Henry Kuttner</p>
+<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: June 29, 2022 [eBook #68425]</p>
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+<div class='lgc' style=''> <!-- rend=';' -->
+<p class='line' style='font-size:3em;'>The Power and the Glory</p>
+<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
+<p class='line'><span style='font-size:x-large'>By HENRY KUTTNER</span></p>
+<p class='line'>&#160;</p>
+<p class='line'>[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from<br/>
+Thrilling Wonder Stories, December 1947.<br/>
+Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that<br/>
+the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]</p>
+</div> <!-- end rend -->
+
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER I<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Transmutation</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Carrying the coffee-pot, the Belgian
+shuffled out of the room. The door
+thumped behind him. Miller met
+Slade’s inquiring stare and shrugged.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So he’s crazy,” Miller said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slade drew down the corners of his thin
+mouth. “Maybe he is. But I’ve got other
+sources of information, remember. I’m sure
+there’s—something—up on Peak Seven Hundred.
+Something plenty valuable. You’re
+going to find it for me.” His teeth clicked on
+the last word.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Am I?” Miller said sourly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Suit yourself. Anytime you feel like it
+you can go back to the States.” There was a
+threat in the way he said it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said, “Sure. And then you send a
+few telegrams .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. It was a sweet little
+frame you fixed up on me. A murder rap—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Well,” Slade interrupted, “<span class='it'>that</span> happened
+to be a frame. I’ve got to protect myself,
+though, in case you ever want to turn State’s
+evidence.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’ve done your dirty work for ten years,”
+Miller growled. “It’s too late now to try
+crossing you up. But we’re both guilty of
+one particular murder, Slade. A guy named
+Miller who was an honest lawyer, ten years
+ago. I feel sorry for the poor sucker.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slade’s strong, implacable face turned
+away from him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The man with the gun has the advantage.
+Up on Peak Seven Hundred there’s the biggest
+gun in the world—I think. Something’s
+sending out terrific power-radiations. I’m
+no scientist, but I’ve got men working for
+me who are. If I can get that—weapon—from
+the Peak, I can write my own ticket.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked at him curiously. He had to
+admit Slade’s strength, his powerful will.
+Head of a slightly criminal and completely
+unscrupulous political empire for a decade
+now, Slade was growing restive, reaching
+out for new worlds to conquer.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Word of this power-source on the peak in
+Alaska had sounded fantastic even back in
+the States but it seemed to fascinate Slade,
+who could afford to indulge his whims. And
+he could afford to trust Miller—to a certain
+extent. Miller was in Slade’s hands and knew
+it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They both looked up as the Belgian came
+back into the room, carrying a fresh bottle
+of whiskey. Van Hornung was drunk and
+well aware of his own drunkenness. He
+peered at them from under the huge fur
+cap he wore even indoors.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Could man be drunk forever with liquor,
+love and fights</span>—” he murmured, hooking
+out a chair with his foot. “Ah well, it doesn’t
+matter now. Have another drink, gentlemen.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller glanced at Slade, then leaned forward
+across the table.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“About Peak Seven Hundred, now,” he
+said. “I wish you’d—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The Belgian slapped a fat hand on the
+table. “You ask me about Seven Hundred.
+Very well, then—listen. I would not tell
+you before—I did not wish you to die. Now
+I am drunker and, I think, wiser. It does not
+matter whether a man lives or dies.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“For twenty years I have been neither
+alive nor dead. I have not thought nor felt
+emotion nor lived like a man. I have eaten
+and drunk and tried to forget. If you wish
+to go to the Peak I’ll tell you the way. It’s
+all quite futile, you see.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He drank. Miller and Slade exchanged
+glances in silence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If you go,” Van Hornung said, “you will
+leave your soul behind you—as I did. We
+are not the dominant race, you see. We try
+to achieve the summits but we forget that
+there may already be dwellers on the peaks.
+Oh yes, I will tell you the way to the Peak
+if you like. But if you live you will not
+care about anything any more.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller glanced again at Slade, who gestured
+impatiently.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’ll take a chance on that,” Miller said to
+the Belgian. “Tell me the way.”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the dim twilight of the arctic noon Miller
+followed his Innuit guides up the snowy
+foothills toward Seven Hundred. For many
+days they had traveled, deeper and deeper
+into this dry, sub-zero silence, muffled in
+snow. The guides were nervous. They knew
+their arctic gods, animistic, watchful, resented
+intrusion into sacred areas like Peak
+Seven Hundred. In their fur-hooded Esquimaux
+faces oriental eyes watched Miller mistrustfully.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He was carrying his gun now. Two of the
+Innuits had deserted already, in the depths of
+the long nights. These two remained and
+hated him, and went on only because their
+fear of his gun was greater—so far—than
+their fear of the gods on Seven Hundred.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The Peak lifted great sheer cliffs almost
+overhead. There was no visible way of
+scaling it. But the Innuits were hurrying
+ahead as if they had already sighted a clearly
+marked trail. Miller quickened his steps,
+a vague uneasiness beginning to stir in his
+mind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then the foremost Esquimau dropped to
+his knees and began to scrabble in the snow.
+Miller shouted, hearing his own voice come
+back thin and hollow from the answering
+peaks. But when he reached the two, one
+of them looked up over his furclad shoulder
+and smiled a grim smile. In his native tongue
+he spoke one of the strange compound
+words that can convey a whole sentence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Ariartokasuaromarotit-tog</span>,” he said. “Thou
+too wilt soon go quickly away.” There was
+threat and warning and satisfaction in the
+way he said it. His fur mitten patted something
+in the snow.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller bent to look. An iridescent pathway
+lay there, curving up around a boulder
+and out of sight, rough crystal surfaces that
+caught the light with red and blue shadows.
+Here in the white, silent world of the high
+peaks it looked very beautiful and strange.
+Miller knelt and ran a gloved hand over it,
+feeling even through the leather a slight
+tingling.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Erubescite!” he murmured to himself,
+and smiled. It meant copper, perhaps gold.
+And it was an old vein. The color spoke of
+long exposure. There was nothing strange
+about finding a vein of erubescite in the
+mountains—the interpenetrating cubes
+twinned on an octahedral plane were common
+enough in certain mining regions. Still,
+the regularity of the thing was odd. And
+that curious tingling.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It looked like a path.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The Innuits were watching him expectantly.
+Moving with caution, Miller stepped
+forward and set his foot on the path. It was
+uneven, difficult to balance on. He took
+two or three steps along the iridescent purple
+slope, and then.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And then he was moving smoothly upward,
+involuntarily, irresistibly. There was a
+strange feeling in his feet and up the long
+muscles at the back of his legs. And the
+mountain was sliding away below him.
+Peaks, snow-slopes, fur-clad men all slipped
+quietly off down the mountainside, while at
+Miller’s feet a curving ribbon of iridescence
+lengthened away.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’m dreaming!” was his first thought.
+And his head spun with the strange new
+motion so that he staggered—and could not
+fall. That tingling up his legs was more
+than a nervous reaction, it was a permeation
+of the tissues.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Transmutation!” he thought wildly, and
+clutched in desperation at the slipping fabric
+of his own reason. “The road’s moving,” he
+told himself as calmly as he could. “I’m fixed
+to it somehow. Transmutation? Why did I
+think of transmutation? I can’t move my
+feet or legs—they feel like stone—like the
+substance of the road.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The changing of one element into another—lead
+into gold, flesh into stone .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. The
+Innuits had known. Far away he could see
+the diminishing dots that were his guides
+slide around a curve and vanish. He gestured
+helplessly, finding even his arms
+growing heavy, as if that strange atomic
+transmutation were spreading higher and
+higher through his body.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Powerless, one with the sliding path, he
+surrendered himself without a struggle to
+that mounting glide. Something stronger
+than himself had him in a grip that seemed
+purposeful. He could only wait and .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. it was
+growing difficult to think. Perhaps the
+change was reaching to his brain by now.
+He couldn’t tell.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He only knew that for a timeless period
+thereafter he did not think any more about
+anything.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Thin laughter echoed through his mind.
+A man’s voice said, “But I am bored,
+Tsi. Besides, he won’t be hurt—much. Or if
+he is, what does it matter?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller was floating in a dark void. There
+was a strangeness about the voice he could
+not analyze. He heard a woman answer and
+in her tone was a curious likeness to the
+man’s.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Don’t, Brann,” she said. “You can find
+other—amusements.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The high laughter came again. “But he’s
+still new. It should be interesting.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann, please let him go.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Be silent, Tsi. I’m master here. Is he
+awake yet?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A pause. “No, not yet. Not for a while yet.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I can wait.” The man sighed. “I’ve preparations
+to make, anyhow. Let’s go, Tsi.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a long, long pause. The voices
+were still.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller knew he was floating in nothingness.
+He tried to move and could not. Inertia
+still gripped his body but his brain was
+free and functioning with a clarity that
+surprised him. It was almost as if that
+strange transmutation had changed his very
+brain-tissues to something new and marvelous.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Transmutation,” he thought. “Lead into
+gold—flesh into stone—that’s what I was
+thinking about when—when I stopped thinking.
+When that sort of change happens, it
+means the nuclear charge in the atoms of
+one substance or the other has to change too.
+The tingling when I touched the road—was
+that when it happened?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But he paused there, knowing there was
+no answer. For when had a man ever before
+felt the shifting from flesh to crystal take
+place in his own body?</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>If it had happened that way, then it must
+have been a force like the coulomb forces
+themselves that welded him into one with
+the moving road—the all but irresistible
+forces that hold the electrons in their orbits
+and rivet all creation into a whole.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And now—what?</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“There are two methods of transmutation,”
+he told himself clearly, lying there in the
+dark and groping for some answer to the
+thing that was happening to him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Rationalize it,” his mind seemed to say,
+“or you’ll go mad with sheer uncertainty.
+Reason it out from what you know. A
+chemical element is determined by the number
+of electrons around the nucleus—change
+that and you change the element. But the
+nucleus, in turn, determines by its charge
+the number of electrons it can control. If
+the nuclear charge is changed, then this—this
+crystalline state—is permanent.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But if it isn’t, then that must mean there’s
+constant bombardment that knocks off or
+adds electrons to whatever touches that road.
+The change wouldn’t be permanent because
+the original charge of the nucleus remains
+constant. After awhile the extra electrons
+would be dropped, or others captured to
+restore the balance, and I’d be normal
+again. That must be the way of it,” he told
+himself, “because Van Hornung came this
+way. And he went back again—normal. Or
+was he really normal?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The question echoed without answer in
+his brain. Miller lay quiet a moment longer
+and then began to try once more to stir his
+inert body. This time, a very little, he felt
+muscles move.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>What seemed a long while later, he found
+he could open his eyes. Very cautiously he
+looked around.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER II<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Tsi</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He was alone. He lay on something
+hard and flat. A dome of crystal
+arched overhead, not very high, so that he
+seemed in effect to lie in a box of crystal—a
+coffin, he thought grimly, and sat up with
+brittle care. His muscles felt as stiff as if the
+substance of the iridescent roadway still
+permeated his flesh.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The dome seemed to have strange properties,
+for all he saw through it was curiously
+distorted and colored with such richness it
+almost hurt the eyes to gaze upon what lay
+beyond.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He saw columns of golden trees upon
+which leaves moved and glittered in constantly
+changing prisms of light. Something
+like smoke seemed to wreathe slowly among
+the trees, colored incredibly. Seen through
+the dome about him the color of the smoke
+was nameless. No man ever saw that hue
+before nor gave a name to it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The slab on which he sat was the iridescent
+purple of the road. If it had carried
+him here, he saw no obvious way in which
+it could have left him lying on the crystal
+coffin. Yet, clearly, this was the end of the
+moving roadway and, clearly too, the forces
+which had welded him to it were gone now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The unstable atoms created in the grip of
+that strange force had shaken off their abnormality
+and reverted to their original
+form. He was himself again but stiff, dizzy
+and not sure whether he had dreamed the
+voices. If he had, it was a nightmare. He
+shivered a little, remembering the thin, inhuman
+laughter and its promise of dreadful
+things.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He got up, very cautiously, looking around.
+As nearly as he could tell through the distorting
+crystal there was no one near him.
+The coffin stood in a grove of the golden
+trees and, except for the mist and the twinkling
+leaves, nothing moved. He put out a
+tentative hand to push the crystal up.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>His hand went through it. There was a
+tinkling like high music, ineffably sweet, and
+the crystal flew into glittering fragments
+that fell to the ground in a second rain of
+sound. The beauty of it for a moment was
+almost pain. He had never heard such music
+before. It was almost more beautiful than
+any human being should be allowed to hear,
+he thought confusedly. There are sensations
+so keen they can put too great a strain upon
+human nerves.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then he stood there unprotected by the
+dome and looked around him at the trees and
+the mist and saw that the dome had made
+no difference. These incredible colors were
+no distortions—they were real. He took a
+tentative step and found the grass underfoot
+so soft that even through his shoe-soles he
+could feel its caress.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The very air was exquisitely cool and
+hushed, like the air of a summer dawn, almost
+liquid in its translucence. Through it
+the winking of the prism-leaves was so
+lovely to look at that he turned his eyes
+away, unable to endure the sight for more
+than a moment.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>This was hallucination. “I’m still somewhere
+back there in the snow,” he thought.
+“Delirium—that’s it. I’m imagining this.”
+But if it were a dream, then Van Hornung
+had known it too, and men do not dream
+identical dreams. The Belgian had warned
+him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He shook his shoulders impatiently. Even
+with all this before him he could not quite
+bring himself to believe Van Hornung’s story.
+There was a quality of dream about this
+landscape, as if all he saw were not in reality
+what it seemed, as if this grass of ineffable
+softness were—and he knew it was—only
+crusted snow, as if those cliffs he could
+glimpse among the trees were really the
+bare crags of Peak Seven Hundred, and
+everything else delirium. He felt uneasily
+that he was really lying somewhere asleep
+in the snow, and must wake soon, before
+he froze.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>That high, thin laughter rang suddenly
+through the air. In spite of himself Miller
+felt his heart lurch and he whirled to face
+the sound with a feeling of cold terror congealing
+him. It was odd how frightening the
+careless voice had been, talking impersonally
+of its pleasures.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A little group of men and women was
+coming toward him through the trees. He
+could not guess which of them had laughed
+the familiar laughter. They wore brilliantly
+colored garments of a subtle cut that hung
+like a toga or a sari, with a wonderful sophistication
+of line. The colors were incredible.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller blinked dazedly, trying in vain to
+find names for those shimmering hues that
+seemed to combine known colors into utterly
+unknown gradations and to draw from the
+range of colors above and below the spectrum
+as we see it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A women said, “Oh, he’s awake,” and a
+man laughed pleasantly and said, “Look how
+surprised he is!” All of them smiled and
+turned bright, amused faces to Miller.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He said something—he never remembered
+what—and stopped in sheer shock at the
+harsh dissonance of his own voice. It was
+like an ugly discord tearing through smooth,
+lilting arpeggios of harmony. The faces of
+the others went blank briefly, as though
+they had concentrated on something else to
+avoid hearing the sound. The woman Miller
+had first noticed lifted her hand.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Wait,” she said. “Listen to me, for a moment.
+There is no need to speak—<span class='it'>aloud</span>.”
+A faint distaste was in her tone. Her .&nbsp;.&nbsp;.
+tone? That could not be right. No voice
+was ever so sweetly musical, so gently harmonious.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked at her. Her face was a small
+pale triangle, lovely and elfin and strange,
+with enormous violet eyes and piled masses
+of hair that seemed to flow in winding
+strands through one another. Each strand
+was of a different pastel hue, dusty green or
+pale amethyst or the yellow of sunshine on
+a hazy morning. It was so in keeping, somehow,
+that Miller felt no surprise. That
+bizarre coiffure fitted perfectly with the
+woman’s face.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He opened his mouth again, but the woman—it
+shocked him a little, and he wondered
+that it did not shock him even more—was
+suddenly beside him. A split-second before
+she had been ten feet away.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You have much to learn,” she said. “First,
+though—remember not to speak. It isn’t
+necessary. Simply frame your thoughts.
+There’s a little trick to it. No—keep your
+mouth closed. Think. Think your question.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Her lips had moved slightly, but merely
+for emphasis. And surely normal vocal cords
+could not have been capable of that unearthly
+sweetness and evenness of tone, with its amazing
+variations and nuances. Miller thought,
+“Telepathy. It must be telepathy.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They waited, watching him inquiringly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The woman said, silently, “Think—<span class='it'>to me</span>.
+Frame the thought more carefully. The concepts
+must be rounded, complete. Later you
+may use abstracts but you can’t do that yet.
+All I can read is a cloudiness.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller thought carefully, word by word,
+“Is this telepathy?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Still cloudiness,” she said. “But it’s clearer
+now. You were never used to clear thinking.
+Yes, it is telepathy.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But how can I—where am I? What is
+this place?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She smiled at him, and laughter moved
+through the group. “More slowly. Remember,
+you have just been born.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Just—what?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And thoughts seemed to fly past him like
+small bright insects, grazing the edges of his
+consciousness. A half-mocking, friendly
+thought from one of the men, a casual comment
+from another.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Brann</span>, Miller thought, remembering.
+<span class='it'>What about Brann? Where is he?</span></p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was dead silence. He had never
+felt such stillness before. It was of the
+mind, not physical. But he felt communication,
+super-sensory, rapid and articulate, between
+the others. Abruptly the rainbow-haired
+woman took his arm, while the others
+began to drift off through the prism-leaves
+and the golden trees.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She pulled him gently away under the
+tinkling foliage, through the drifts of colored
+mists. Brushing violet fog before them with
+her free hand, she said, “We would rather
+not mention Brann here, if we can avoid it.
+To speak of him sometimes—brings him.
+And Brann is in a dangerous mood today.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked at her with a frown of concentration.
+There was so much to ask. In
+that strange mental tongue that was already
+coming more easily to him, he said, “I don’t
+understand any of this. But I know your
+voice. Or rather, your—I’m not sure what
+you’d call it.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The mental voice, you mean? Yes, you
+learn to recognize them. It’s easy to imitate
+an audible voice but the mental one can’t be
+imitated. It’s part of the person. So you remember
+hearing my thoughts before? I
+thought you were asleep.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You’re Tsi.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” she said and pushed aside a tinkling
+screen of the prisms. Before them stood a
+low rampart of light—or water. Four feet
+high, it ran like liquid but it glowed like
+light. Beyond it was blue sky and a sheer,
+dizzying drop to meadows hundreds of feet
+below. The whole scene was almost blindingly
+vivid, every lovely detail standing out
+sharp and clear and dazzling.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He said, “I don’t understand. There are
+legends about people up here, but not about—this.
+This vividness. Who are you? What
+is this place?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi smiled at him. There was warmth and
+compassion in the smile, and she said gently,
+“This is what your race had once, and lost.
+We’re very old, but we’ve kept—” Abruptly
+she paused, her eyes brightening suddenly
+with a look of terror.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said. “Hush!” and in the mental command
+there was a wave of darkness and silence
+that seemed to blanket his mind. For
+no reason his heart began to pound with
+nervous dread. They stood there motionless
+for an instant, mind locked with mind in a
+stillness that was more than absence of
+sound—it was absence of thought. But
+through the silence Miller caught just the
+faintest echo of that thin, tittering laugh he
+had heard before, instinct with cold, merciless
+amusement.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The prism leaves sang around them with
+little musical tinklings. From the sunlit
+void stretching far below bird-song rippled
+now and then with a sweetness that was almost
+painful to hear. Then Tsi’s mind relaxed
+its grip upon Miller’s and she sighed
+softly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It’s all right now. For a moment I
+thought Brann .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. but no, he’s gone again.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Who is Brann?” Miller demanded.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The lord of this castle. A very strange
+creature—very terrible when his whims are
+thwarted. Brann is—he cares for nothing
+very much. He lives only for pleasure and,
+because he’s lived so long and exhausted so
+many pleasures, the devices he uses now are
+not very—well, not very pleasant for anyone
+but Brann. There was a warp in him before
+his birth, you see. He’s not quite—not
+quite of our breed.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He’s from the outside world? Human?”
+As he said it Miller knew certainly that the
+woman before him was not human, not as he
+understood the term.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But Tsi shook her head. “Oh, no. He was
+born here. He’s of our breed. But not of our
+norm. A little above in many ways, a little
+below in others. <span class='it'>Your</span> race—” there was
+faint distaste and pity in the thought, but
+she let it die there, unelaborated.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You can’t understand yet,” she went on.
+“Don’t try. You see, you suffered a change
+when you came. You aren’t quite as you
+were before. Were you ever able to communicate
+telepathically?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“No, of course not. But I don’t feel any
+different. I—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“A blind man, given sight, wouldn’t realize
+it until he opened his eyes. And he
+might be dazzled at first. You’re at a disadvantage.
+I think it would be best for you to
+get away. Look there, across the valley.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She lifted an arm to point. Far off across
+the dazzling meadows hills rose, green in the
+sunlight, shimmering a little in the warm,
+clear light. On the height of the highest a
+diamond glitter caught the sun.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“My sister,” Tsi said, “has that palace over
+there. I think Orelle would take you in, if
+only to thwart Brann. You aren’t safe here.
+Fur your sake, it was a pity the port of entry
+you reached was here in Brann’s castle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“There have been others, then?” Miller
+asked. “A man named Van Hornung—did
+he come here?”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She shook her head, the rainbow hair
+catching the sunlight. “Not here. There
+are many castles in our land and most of
+them live at peace within and without. But
+not Brann’s.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Then why are you here?” Miller asked
+bluntly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She smiled an unhappy smile. “Most of
+us came because we felt as Brann does—we
+did not care very much any more. We
+wanted to follow our pleasures, being tired
+of other pursuits after so many thousands
+of years. All except me.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Thousands of.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. What do you mean?
+Why are you here then?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Her mouth turned down at the corners in
+a rueful smile.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Well—perhaps I too was warped before
+birth. I can’t leave Brann now. He needs
+me. That doesn’t matter to you. Brann’s
+dangerous—his heart is set on—on experiments
+that will need you to complete. We
+won’t talk about that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said, “I came here for a purpose.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I know. I read part of your mind while
+you lay asleep. You’re hunting for a treasure.
+We have it. Or perhaps I should say
+Orelle has it.” The violet eyes darkened.
+She hesitated.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Perhaps I’m sending you to Orelle for a
+purpose,” she said. “You can do me a great
+service there—and yourself too. That treasure
+you seek is—should be partly mine. You
+think of it as a power-source. To me it’s a
+doorway into something better than any of
+us knows.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Our father made it, long ago. Orelle has
+it now, though by rights she and I should
+share it. If you find a way to get that treasure,
+my friend, will you bring it to me?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Long-grooved habit-patterns in Miller’s
+mind made him say automatically, “And if I
+do?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She smiled. “If you don’t,” she said,
+“Brann will have you sooner or later. If I
+can get it I think I can—control Brann. If
+I can’t—well, you will be the first sufferer.
+I think you know that. You’ll do well to
+persuade Orelle if you can. Now—I’ve made
+a bargain with Brann. Don’t ask me what.
+You may learn, later.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Go to Orelle, watch your chance and be
+wary. If you ask for the treasure you’ll
+never get near it. Better not to speak of it
+but wait and watch. No one can read your
+mind unless you will it, now that you’re
+learning telepathy, but watch too that you
+let nothing slip from your thoughts to warn
+her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You want me to take her hospitality and
+then rob her?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Distress showed in Tsi’s face. “Oh, no! I
+ask only what’s mine, and even that only for
+long enough to control Brann. Then you
+may return the treasure to Orelle or strike a
+bargain with her over it. Five minutes with
+that in my hands is all I ask! Now here is
+something I’ve made for you out of your own
+possession. Hold out your wrist.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Staring, he obeyed. She unclosed her hand
+to show him his wristwatch in her palm.
+Smiling, she buckled the strap around his
+arm. “It isn’t quite as it was. I changed
+it. If you need me concentrate on this and
+speak to me in your mind. I’ll hear.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There were countless questions still unasked.
+Miller took a deep breath and began
+to formulate them in his mind. And then—Tsi
+vanished! The earth was gone from underfoot
+and he spun through golden emptiness,
+dropping, falling. The water-wall hung
+beneath him. He floated in midair a hundred
+feet above the crag-bordered stream at the
+cliffs bottom!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Panic struck him. Then Tsi’s reassuring
+thought said, “You are safe. This is teleportation.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He scarcely heard. An age-old instinctive
+fear chilled his middle. For a million years
+men have been afraid of falling. He could not
+now control that fear.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slowly he began to drop. He lost sight of
+Tsi and the golden trees and then of the
+water-wall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Under him the stream broadened.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He sank down at an angle—and felt solid
+ground beneath his feet.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was silence except for the whispering
+murmur of the stream.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER III<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>The World That Couldn’t Be</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller sat down on a rock and held
+his head in his hands. His thoughts
+were swimming. Cold, fresh air blew against
+his cheeks and he raised his face to meet that
+satisfying chill. It seemed to rouse him. He
+began to realize that he had been half asleep
+during the interview with Tsi, as though the
+mists of his slumber had still blanketed his
+senses. Otherwise he would scarcely have
+accepted this miraculous business.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Or was there another reason?</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He felt a desperate impulse to see Tsi
+again. She could answer his questions, if she
+would. And she had been the first friendly
+face he had seen in this terribly strange land.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He looked up and willed himself to rise.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Impossible, of course. <span class='it'>My own bootstraps</span>,
+he thought, with a wild sort of amusement.
+Were his feet pressing less heavily on the
+rock beneath him?</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And then, from above, came a high, thin
+laughter that was not truly audible—Brann!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Even before the mental voice came, that
+malicious, slow thought sent its familiar radiations
+before it. Something as recognizable
+as sound or color—more so!—fell down the
+cliff and crept coldly into Miller’s brain. He
+knew that unheard voice.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You had better not come up,” it said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller stood motionless, waiting. Instinctively
+he had fallen into the fighter’s
+crouch. But how useless ordinary precautions
+would be against this super-being!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He tried to close his mind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Go to Orelle, then,” it said. “I’ve made
+my bargain with Tsi and I’ll keep it. But
+she’s a fool. She always tries to close her
+mind to unpleasant things. She’ll never really
+admit we’re at war with her sister. As
+long as she doesn’t name it <span class='it'>war</span>, she thinks
+it’s something else.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Again the high laughter.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Go to Orelle,” Brann said. “I’m winning
+too easily. Perhaps they can use another
+fighter. Then they may be able to give me
+more of a battle. Though, if I chose, I could
+crush you with a thought—turn the air itself
+into a weight that would flatten you in an instant.
+But Orelle may think of a use for you.
+I can’t, except to divert myself with your reactions
+to certain experiments.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The unheard voice grew carelessly casual.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Too easy a victory is no victory at all.
+Go away.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Anger stirred in Miller at that calm assumption
+of superiority. Brann was thoroughly
+justified, of course, yet no man likes
+to be discounted utterly. With all his power
+Miller willed himself to rise, to float upward
+as easily as he had floated down—and this
+time he was certain that his feet lost contact
+with the earth.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then a weight like a great stone crushed
+down on him. Only for an instant did that
+frightful, unbearable pressure continue, while
+the veins swelled on Miller’s forehead and
+he heard his breath coming in deep, rasping
+gasps as he tried to resist the onslaught.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He went to his knees—down till he lay on
+his back, prostrate, helpless beneath that
+furious assault of the air itself. A screaming
+river of wind thundered down and the thin
+bushes in the gorge stirred and small landslides
+began as the air-river rushed in hurricane
+force from above.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann laughed idly again and obviously
+lost interest. The pressure vanished. Sweating,
+breathing hard, Miller struggled to his
+feet. He did not try teleportation again. For
+a moment he stared up at the cliff-rim. Then
+he turned and began to walk up the gorge in
+the direction of Orelle’s palace. His mouth
+was thin and his eyes held an angry glow.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>So Brann was winning too easily. Well—perhaps
+something could be done about that!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Far off across the glimmering valley a
+green hillside rolled high against the sky.
+The diamond twinkle that was the castle he
+must reach grew larger as he walked—grew
+larger with abnormal speed. Miller looked
+down and was surprised to find that measured
+by the pebbles and the flowers underfoot
+he was taking increasingly long steps.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'><span class='it'>Seven-league boots</span>, he thought, as he
+found himself striding like a giant through
+the softness of the grass. The earth slid by
+beneath his feet with dream-like fluidity.
+Now the diamond glitter of Orelle’s palace
+was dividing into hundreds of tinier glitters
+and he saw the walls of pale-colored glass
+rising fantastically upon the green height of
+the grass-clad mountain. A palace of glass—or
+ice.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Ice,” he thought suddenly. “Ice and
+snow and rocks. That’s all there is here.
+This is a dream. There’s no such world—there
+couldn’t be.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And then reason, stirring in his mind, argued,
+“Why not? How do we know the limits
+of possibility? Out of the few simple building
+blocks of the universe—out of neutrons,
+protons, electrons—everything we know is
+made. How much else may there be we can’t
+even perceive—unless transmutation takes
+place and the structure of a man’s nuclear
+patterns change to let him see.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“After all, you aren’t the first. There was
+Van Hornung and who knows how many before
+him? There was Tannhauser in the
+magical mountain of Venusburg—there was
+Thomas the Rhymer under the hill in fairyland.
+Paradise itself sounds like a distorted
+tale of just such a land as this. Legend remembers.
+You aren’t in any new world.
+You’re only exploring a very old one, and—”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Without warning the world dropped
+away under his feet and all logical
+progression of thoughts ceased abruptly. The
+sky was beneath him now and the shining
+world whirling dizzily over and over around
+him. But something firmer than gravity
+clasped him close so that there was no
+vertigo, even though the earth had forsaken
+him. Green translucence cradled him. There
+was a sensation of great speed, and then—</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Glass walls flashed past, spun, righted
+themselves gently. A solid pavement fitted
+itself against his soles and leveled off to the
+horizontal. He stood in a small, high room
+whose walls were row upon row of lenses,
+like bull’s-eye panes, all looking down upon
+him with—eyes? Black mechanical pupils
+that moved whenever he moved, following
+him as he walked toward the nearest wall.
+For an instant he felt stripped and naked under
+that multiple scrutiny.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then a telepathic voice said, “You come
+from Brann.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked around wildly. He was
+alone. Almost automatically he said, “No!”
+aloud, so that the air shivered to the harsh
+sound. He wasn’t sure why he denied it.
+Brann had spoken of war.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Don’t lie,” the voice said coldly. “I can see
+the dust of Brann’s mountain on you. Do you
+think we can’t identify a simple thing like
+dust from a given mountain? It streams off
+you like purple light in the fluorescents.
+You come from Brann. Are you a spy?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tsi sent me,” Miller said. “Take me to
+Orelle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Orelle speaks,” the telepathic voice told
+him without emotion. “My sister loves me—but
+Tsi is no woman to trust. No one on
+Brann’s mountain is worth trusting or he
+wouldn’t be with Brann at all. What Tsi finds
+distasteful she denies existence. What do you
+want here?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller hesitated, glancing around the walls
+at the impassive, watching eyes of the—machines?
+Power, he wanted to say. Give me
+that power-source and I’ll go. But he was
+silent, remembering Tsi’s warning.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>How much of it he could believe he didn’t
+know now but it was second nature for him
+to keep his own counsel until he was sure
+enough to act. Orelle could not read his
+mind. Tsi had confessed that would be impossible
+once he began to master telepathic
+communication. He would be safe enough as
+long as he could give the right answers.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’m from the outside,” he offered hesitantly,
+thinking that hesitation and uncertainty
+might be his best defense until he
+learned more about this place. Exaggerate
+them, play up even more than was really
+genuine his bewilderment and confusion. “I—Tsi
+said you’d help me get oriented here.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The disembodied voice was silent for a
+brief, considering moment. Then it said, “I
+think you lie. However—are you willing to
+accept our search? Only after you’ve been
+proved weaponless can we admit you here.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>What could he say but yes? For an instant
+he remembered the watch Tsi had strapped
+to his wrist and what she had said of it. But
+it was for communication only—she had said—and
+surely she knew that a routine search
+would probably be made. She wouldn’t have
+branded him with something that would give
+him away to the first inspection. Or would
+she? What he had heard of Tsi did little to
+increase his confidence in her. Still .&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Search if you like,” he said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The room went dark. Miller, blinking in
+the sudden blindness, felt something like the
+vertigo he had not suffered in flight seize him
+relentlessly now he was on solid flooring. The
+air spun around him in a shrill diminishing
+vortex and it seemed to him limitless gulfs
+were opening underfoot and sucking him
+down, tight, tight, into a crushing spiral of
+darkness.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Out of the dark lights suddenly sprang into
+being, cold, blue lights that struck him like
+cold water—struck and penetrated. Looking
+down, he was aghast to see his own blood
+coursing red through transparent veins, to
+see his bones stand out cleanly white in their
+lacings of muscle, moving startlingly when he
+bent to stare.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The lights went out again. The darkness
+ceased to whirl. And then for one instant he
+felt all through his body an indescribable
+shifting, a terrible motion of inconceivable
+multiplicity. And in that flash of the instant
+he was <span class='it'>changed</span>.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The atoms went back into their normal pattern.
+That unstable isotope which was himself
+shed its changed form and he was as he
+had always been, solid, human, normal.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It was a hideous feeling. Until that moment
+he had not realized how much he had changed
+already, what nascent, nameless senses had
+begun to open up in him, pushing back horizons
+upon glories beyond glories. It was
+like deafness and blindness suddenly closing
+in about a normal man. It was worse—it was
+like having all the properties of death itself
+imposed upon the living. Miller held his
+breath, closed his eyes.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He felt the shift again as the isotope form
+renewed itself within him. The shifting
+stirred in the unthinkable myriads of the
+nuclei that formed him. He was whole again.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Once more the vortex whirled and roared
+in darkness. Then the dark lifted and he was
+standing beside a bank of thick yellow flowers
+under an arched vault of glass. The floor was
+tiled in brilliant colors, resilient to the foot.
+The flowery bank rising from it might be real
+earth and flowers or it might be a skillful
+imitation. For it was also a divan.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle lay upon it, smiling at him. He knew
+it was Orelle. He was aware, though he could
+not have explained how, of the telepathic
+emanation from her mind to his, individual
+as the pattern of the brain. She was beautiful—as
+everyone in this world seemed beautiful.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He saw something of Tsi’s features in
+hers but she was not dressed with the
+extravagance her sister affected. She was
+very slender, and her graceful body was
+sheathed tightly in something like clear satin
+that covered her to the wrists and ankles and
+flowed in long smooth lines over the flowers
+she lay on. She was pulling them idly and
+twirling the blossoms between her fingers.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Well, you are welcome,” she said, almost
+reluctantly, eyeing Miller with a smile that
+had wryness in it. “We found no weapons,
+though we searched you down to the very
+structure of the protons. To tell you the truth,
+we have no reason to trust you.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But Tsi must have had some reason for
+sending you here and I think we’re safer
+coping with her schemes at first hand than
+goading her on to try something more subtle
+still. Be sure you’re watched, my friend. Be
+careful what you do.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said wryly, “I’m not likely to do
+anything. From what I’ve seen of this place,
+I feel helpless. Do you all have the same
+powers as Tsi? How many of you are there?
+And what—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle shrugged. “We’re not used to hurry.
+Of course we have all the time we need.
+Your race doesn’t—even here. I can see your
+curiosity. And I’ll satisfy it, too. Yes, everyone
+here has the same powers, though
+naturally some are stronger than others.
+There is the telepathic factor, and—other
+things.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Bred into your race? But what about me?
+I’m not your kind.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said slowly, “A million years ago your
+ancestors were, though. Since then your people
+have gone down. It took eons to reach
+the peak when Atlantis and Mu were great
+cultures, and it will take eons more for your
+race to regain what they have lost. Only
+here, on this secret mountain, have we retained
+the strength of the old civilizations.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said. “But what happened?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Oh, the usual thing. Men took weapons
+they weren’t ready to use. In that time—try
+to understand this—the atomic structure of
+the world itself was different. You know
+that? That the atom can change—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I do indeed,” Miller told her grimly. “If
+electrons change, or if the nucleus changes,
+the structure changes too.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said, “Well, that was what happened.
+All earth is dull and dead now. Only here
+does the old special type of matter still exist.
+It throws off a certain radiation that makes it
+possible for us to be born and live as we are.
+In Atlantis there was experiment with nuclear
+structures, and transmutation.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“We have atomic power now,” Miller said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The beginnings of it. You’re merely beginning.
+It will be a long, long time before
+you stand where Atlantis once stood. First
+you must change the very structure of your
+world! Only then will <span class='it'>you</span> change, will the
+radiation-caused mutation alter you and give
+you the powers and senses you lost when a
+world went to war a millennium ago.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The fires of matter itself moved across the
+planet, and where it passed, structure altered
+and what was bright and shining and glorious
+became a dull, empty thing. Men lost their
+specialized, hard-won powers then. But the
+seeds remain latent in their bodies, recessive
+characteristics. Here, on the mountain, the
+recessive can become dominant for a little
+while. It is unstable, of course.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Then—I’m like you? Tsi told me but I
+couldn’t believe it. I’m a—a sort of superman?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Every gift has its price,” she said oddly.
+“There is beauty here but there is terror too.
+You must have noticed that you see with
+clearer eyes—the eyes of the mind.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” he said. “I’ve noticed that. Things
+are—shining, somehow.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It would be well if you remembered your
+own world,” Orelle said, after a little pause.
+Her eyes were troubled. “Your own atomic
+structure has altered but that can take place
+only once.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A man came into view through a glassy
+wall that melted at his approach, and solidified
+again behind him. He looked no older
+than Orelle, a firm-fleshed, smiling man
+whose vari-tinted hair lay smoothly across
+his scalp. But his eyes were old, grey and
+cloudy with the mists of incalculable centuries.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER IV<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>The Bomb</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Orelle—” he began. And then the
+aeon-misted eyes fell upon Miller,
+and a look of bewildered recognition seemed
+to grow in them. “This man,” he said uncertainly.
+“Should I know him, Orelle? Has
+he been here before, or.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” Suddenly the
+mists cleared from his eyes and he looked
+old no longer but resolute and certain.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I know him!” he said in a crisp voice.
+“His face was in the Time Pool. It meant
+danger. But the likelihood was so remote
+that—well, I dismissed it. I didn’t believe.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“What was the danger?” Orelle leaned
+forward anxiously, her satin skirts moving
+with a gentle rustle over the flowery bank
+where she sat.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The man shook his head. “You’ve seen the
+Time Pool, child. There are so many possibilities
+of the future—who can say in what
+ripple this man’s face floated for a moment
+before the bubble burst? But it was danger.
+I remember that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They turned in one motion and looked at
+Miller with wise, wary, thoughtful eyes, astonishingly
+alike in the two faces. He realized
+they must be closely akin, and both akin
+to Tsi, whom no one trusted far.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He said quickly, “If you can read the future
+you must know I’m not a man to break my
+promises—and I swear to you both I mean
+no harm.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The man made an impatient gesture. “The
+future is never that clear. There is no ‘must’
+in time—only ‘perhaps’.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tsi sent him,” Orelle said. “She must have
+had her reasons.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She sent me because of Brann,” Miller
+declared. The two nodded.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle said, “Well, sometimes she’s moved
+to save one of Brann’s victims. Sometimes I
+think she helps him in his—call them experiments—on
+those he captures. She’d like us to
+think only whims move her. But we know
+the thing that lies behind all she does. Llesi
+and I—we know.” She smiled grimly at the
+man beside her.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She wants the Power,” the man called
+Llesi said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller thought to himself, “So do I,” but
+aloud he said only, “The Power?” in a voice
+of innocent inquiry.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi nodded, his eyes fixed speculatively
+upon Miller as if he gazed through the mists
+of incalculable years.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“A toy my brother and I once made that
+became far more than a toy before we were
+finished. Now Tsi claims her share in her
+father’s treasure. These two are my brother’s
+children but sometimes I think Tsi has no
+blood of mine in her veins.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle said, “No, Llesi, she’s only weak. If
+Brann didn’t rule her so completely—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She’d be welcome to her heritage. But we
+know that to give her what she asks is to
+give it straight into Brann’s hands. And
+there’d be an end to this castle and all who
+live here.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Who is Brann?” Miller asked impatiently.
+“I’ve heard so much about him, I’ve even
+heard him speak. But I’ve never seen him.
+What does he look like?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle shook her head. Small bells she
+wore in her ears tinkled at the motion, and
+even the tiny sounds they made were vividly
+beautiful to Miller’s increasingly keen new
+senses.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said, “No one has seen him except Tsi.
+No one but she can tell you what he is. He
+receives his friends only in the dark or from
+behind curtains. Ever since he built that
+castle, centuries ago, he’s kept his secret hidden—whatever
+it may be. I should like to
+see him dead.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said it without passion. “Brann is true
+evil, perhaps pure evil in its most flawless
+form. He’s very wise and very powerful.
+I’m not sure why he chose us for his enemy
+but I only know now we must fight or be
+killed.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller made up his mind suddenly. “As I
+left his castle,” he said, “Brann spoke to me
+from beyond the wall. He said this was a fight
+he would win too easily. He told me to come
+to you as another fighter, to make the battle
+more interesting.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle leaned forward quickly on the
+flowery bank, her earrings tinkling musically.
+“He said that? You know, I’d have guessed
+the opposite.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’d have said Tsi sent you here knowing
+Brann would covet you for his experiments—knowing
+that with you here, he’d redouble
+his efforts to conquer us and drag you back.
+If his interest were flagging, that might be
+the best way to revive it against us and force
+her entry here. Because she’d do anything
+in the world to get her hands on the Power.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi interrupted her in a thoughtful voice.
+“She might send an envoy here armed with
+some secret weapon Brann could devise—something
+that could pass even our careful
+searching. Remember, Orelle, I’ve seen this
+man before in the Time Pool—this man’s
+face, and danger!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’ve given you my word I didn’t come to
+harm you,” Miller said, realizing that though
+he sailed close to the wind of truth in saying
+that, at least it was accurate as far as it went.
+“Still, I’d like to know more about this
+Power. Unless you—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He never finished. For suddenly there was
+a blast of appalling sound in the room, and a
+rush of white-hot fire that seemed to flow
+down his arm and burst in a blinding gush
+from his wrist.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>When he could see again, what he saw was
+stunning. For Llesi was collapsing where he
+stood, his knees buckling, his face strangely
+drained and empty as if he were dead before
+he struck the floor. There was a curious
+shimmering glow bathing him, sinking inward
+like a devouring acid.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle was on her feet, stumbling forward,
+and from all around figures were closing in
+through the glass that melted at their approach.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Blinded and deafened by a sound that he
+knew was not truly audible, Miller tried to
+spring back.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He could not move. The white dazzling
+flame still poured from him upon the falling
+Llesi. Louder and louder that unheard, cataclysmic
+shout roared through the room. Now
+Miller felt energy of some strange sort pouring
+from Orelle and the others—mental
+power, a silent, tremendous flood that beat
+upon the white flame and—snuffed it like a
+candle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The fire was gone. But Llesi had fallen.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A dozen men and women had crowded
+into the room by now, bright in their sleek
+rainbow garments. Two men fell to their
+knees beside Llesi.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle had swung toward Miller. Hot rage
+blazed tangibly from her—tangibly, for Miller’s
+mind winced beneath that telepathic
+red fury. Through the scarlet twisted a
+black thread—the thought and intention of
+death, cold black against crimson.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Orelle!” he cried desperately. “I didn’t—it
+was some trick!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He could not speak, even telepathically.
+For he could see nothing now but Orelle’s
+dark eyes, and they were expanding, growing
+into luminous pools that chilled him,
+and effectively paralyzed muscle and nerve
+and mind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Eerily a thought that was not his own
+moved suddenly in his frozen brain—moved
+and reached out toward Orelle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Wait, child, wait!</span>” the thought said. “<span class='it'>This
+is Llesi speaking.</span>”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>All must have heard it, for every head
+in the room turned sharply. The
+blinding pools that were Orelle’s eyes began
+to fade and dimly Miller could see again.
+In his mind that voice of another brain said,
+“<span class='it'>The bracelet on his wrist—take it!</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>No one stood near Miller but he felt a
+violent tug at his wristwatch, saw it torn
+free. It sprang through the air to Orelle as
+if thrown by an invisible hand. She spread
+her fingers and received it. But she was
+looking at Miller.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Llesi?” she said uncertainly, still staring
+into Miller’s eyes. “Llesi—you hear me?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Yes. Wait. I must speak with this man
+.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Miller .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. wait.</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle gestured. Llesi’s body was lifted
+without support and floated toward the
+bowery couch. It sank down gently. One of
+the men came forward and made a quick
+examination.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He isn’t dead. It’s stasis, of a sort. But
+I can’t communicate with him. Try it,
+Orelle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Llesi?” Orelle’s thought arrowed out.
+“<span class='it'>Llesi?</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller roused from his stupefied amazement.
+That fantastic voice in his brain was
+speaking quietly to himself alone.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Don’t fight me. They’ll kill you unless
+you obey me. Empty your mind, Miller. Let
+me speak through you. Now.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller listened to the thought that was
+not his, riding on the waves of his own
+telepathic mind, speaking to Orelle and the
+others. But he believed it spoke to himself
+as well.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“This must be Brann’s doing,” Llesi said.
+“The bracelet—when I guessed at a weapon
+the man Miller could have brought Tsi must
+somehow have been listening. Even our
+tests failed to find it but a weapon that
+bracelet must have been. Well, Brann failed
+but only thanks to you for smothering the
+weapon so soon. I’m not destroyed but I
+think it may be a long while before I can
+think or move in my own body.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But you can hear us, Llesi?” Orelle’s
+voice was soft.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Through this man—yes. This is a telepathic
+rapport with him. There must have
+been electronic contact at the crucial moment.
+Without Miller I would be cut off
+completely until my body mends again. I
+think it will in time. I know the sort of
+weapon Brann used. My body will have to
+absorb vital energy, to overcome the insulation
+of atomic stasis the weapon threw
+about me.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Now listen, because my strength is going.
+The mental must draw on the physical and
+my body’s an ember now. I must sleep and
+gather power. Brann will know what’s happened
+here—depend on it, he’ll strike while
+I’m still helpless. I must think—and rest.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle said, “We can handle Brann!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“We can handle him if I can lead you.
+Otherwise.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Take no risks. Remember,
+my only contact with you is through this man
+Miller. Brann will destroy him if he can.
+But the sword is two-edged. Through Miller
+I can fight if I must. Now let me rest.
+I must gather my strength, and think.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The thought trembled on the air—faded—and
+was gone into an enormous stillness.
+Miller was alone again in his own brain.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle stared at him, anger still bright in
+her mind but leashed anger now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“How much of this have you passed on to
+Brann already?” she demanded.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said, “I swear I didn’t know I was
+carrying a time-bomb like that. Tsi told me
+it was only a communication device she’d
+built into my watch. I can only say I’ll help
+you fight Brann in any way I can.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle came forward with quick steps, her
+satin robes rustling, and took Miller’s shoulders
+in a tight grip, reaching high with both
+hands to do so. Her eyes were close to his.
+She stared compellingly up at him and he
+felt the warm force of her mind probing his
+with angry emphasis.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tell me one thing—the truth,” she demanded.
+“<span class='it'>Are you Brann?</span>”</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER V<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>The Signal</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The stars were glittering rayed circles of
+colored fire in the night sky. Miller
+lay staring for what seemed a long while,
+wondering vaguely what had wakened him.
+The wall before his bed was clear glass
+through which the night sky seemed to look
+in at him with its countless silver eyes. He
+had never seen the stars before, he knew
+now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>With his other eyes, they had been only
+dots of brilliance, without pattern. Now he
+could see that there was indeed a pattern to
+their arrangement—one too vast for even
+his augmented mind to grasp but something
+he could recognize as being there, even
+though it lay outside the range of human
+understanding.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He could see colors change and glitter in
+the discs of light that had been only points
+without dimension to his old sight. He could
+even make out dimly the shapes of continents
+on one or two of the planets. And there
+was a strange, distant, ringing music, almost
+inaudible, circling through the dark vault
+above.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He knew now that it was no legend which
+told of the music of the spheres and the
+stars that sang together. Light-waves and
+sound-waves blended into a melody that was
+neither one nor the other, neither sight nor
+sound, but a beautiful medley of both.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Men in the old days must have heard it,”
+he thought to himself, half-asleep. “Maybe in
+ancient times they were still close enough to—<span class='it'>this</span>
+state—to catch the echoes of the old
+music.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Deep in the center of his drowsing mind
+a thought stirred that was not his own.
+“<span class='it'>Miller, Miller, are you awake?</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He framed the answer with an eerie feeling
+of double-mindedness. “Yes, Llesi. What
+is it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I want to talk to you. I’ve gathered
+enough strength now to last me awhile.
+What’s been happening? Are you safe?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller let a ripple of amusement run
+through his mind. “Thanks to you. Can
+you tell from my thoughts that I didn’t know
+what I was bringing into your castle? I
+didn’t mean to attack you.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I believe that—with reservations. Does
+Orelle?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She thought I was Brann. She may still
+think so though I hope I’ve convinced her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I can’t read your mind. But I must trust
+you—no more than I can avoid! Get up,
+Miller, and look toward Brann’s castle. I
+have a feeling of danger. I think that was
+what roused me. Something evil is coming
+our way.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Conscious of a slight chill at the gravity
+with which Llesi spoke, Miller rose. The
+floor was ineffably soft to his bare feet. He
+stepped out into the little glass bay that
+formed one side of the room. From there he
+could look down over the valley he had
+traversed that day. Far off lights glimmered
+at the height of a sheer cliff—Brann’s castle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Why—I can see in the dark!” he exclaimed
+in surprise, staring out at the soft,
+dim landscape that seemed to be lit by a
+soil of invisible starshine so that details were
+delicately visible as they had never been before.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes, yes,” Llesi’s mental voice said impatiently.
+“Turn your eyes to the left—I
+want to see that wall of the valley. There—now
+right.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The commands, couched in mental terms
+that took only a flashing fraction of the
+time words would have taken were almost
+like reflex commands from Miller’s own
+brain.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I think you’d better dress and go down
+to the Time Pool,” Llesi said at last. Miller
+could feel the profound uneasiness stirring
+in the disembodied mind that his own brain
+housed. “Hurry. There’s no guessing what
+unnatural thing Brann may have shaped to
+attack us. He wants you, Miller. Your coming
+brought our war to a climax and I know
+now he won’t stop until he gets you—or dies.
+It depends on you and me which thing happens.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a guard at Miller’s door—or
+the glass wall that melted like a door when
+he approached it. Llesi’s mental voice spoke
+and the guard nodded and followed down
+the long sloping ramp of the glass castle,
+through great, dim, echoing rooms, along
+corridors behind which the people of Orelle’s
+dwelling slept.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They came out at last into a garden in the
+heart of the castle. Circled by glass walls,
+it lay dim and fragrant around the broad
+shallow pool in its center. Starlight shimmered
+in changing patterns on the water
+that rippled slightly in the wind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller found himself glancing up toward
+the wall-top without being sure whether
+the impulse was his own or Llesi’s. In a moment
+he knew, for there was a whispering
+rush and in obedience to some command
+from his own brain—and from Llesi’s—a
+domed roof of glass moved across the garden,
+closing it in.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Now the starlight fell in prismed rays
+through the dome. It struck the pool in somehow
+focused patterns and the water seemed
+to respond to that unimaginably light pressure.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Circles formed where the rays struck,
+formed and spread outward in interlocking
+rings that seemed to gather momentum instead
+of losing it, so that they were seething
+together in a very short time, breaking over
+one another in tiny waves, tossing up bubbles
+and foam. The pool boiled in the cool
+starlight.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And among the boiling rings there were
+reflections. Pictures moved chaotically
+through one another, so rapidly and so bewilderingly
+that Miller grew dizzy as he
+watched. Once he thought he saw Tsi’s face
+with the rainbow hair disordered, streaming
+in the wind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Once he had a glimpse of himself, seen
+confusingly from the back, struggling against
+something that seemed to tower and stoop
+above him but the vision rolled under again
+before he could focus on it and the faces of
+strangers floated among bubbles to replace
+it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Is it real?” he asked Llesi inaudibly. “Is
+this the future?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was an impatient movement in his
+own mind. Llesi, who had been studying the
+pictures in the profoundest silence, said,
+“No—yes—partly. These are the likeliest
+futures. No one understands fully, but the
+theory is that somewhere in hyperspace all
+possible futures work themselves out from
+any given point.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“And the light-rays—the pictures of all
+that happens—move on out into space endlessly.
+When the glass dome is closed starlight,
+falling through the moving rays, projects
+these pictures back into the pool for
+anyone to read who knows how. Men from
+time everlasting have tried to read the future
+in the stars but you can see from this
+how difficult it is and how unreliable even
+a trained mind can be when it has only this
+to work from.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“One decision may alter all probable futures.
+And those are unstable, shifting and
+changing—no man can know the future with
+any certainty. But it’s possible to see dangers,
+sometimes, and prepare for them—though
+that may mean facing a worse peril
+later on. Wait—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the pool a ripple took form at the impact
+of a reflection and began to spread.
+It showed the picture of a shifting, cloudy
+mass moving against the translucent water—but
+moving with a directive purpose, Miller
+thought. The background took form. He
+saw himself and Orelle in miniature with
+the cloud no longer shifting but swooping
+purposively above them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Another ripple collided violently with the
+first and the picture vanished in a burst of
+bubbles. But it took shape again in the
+next moment, though different now, with a
+shift in background. The ripples raced over
+that image and washed it out with another,
+like a not-quite-identical copy. Then he
+saw the castle in which he stood and it was,
+he thought, collapsing into ruins.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>That changed. He saw himself in tiny reflections,
+facing Tsi— And then a ripple
+washed across the pool in which he saw his
+own face and Slade’s and there was something
+inexplicably terrible about both.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Shaken, he asked Llesi a mental question.
+Llesi answered him briefly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If part of what you just saw happens,
+other parts can’t happen. But you saw that
+cloudy pillar? It appeared too often against
+too many backgrounds to be very far off in
+space or time. Brann is sending a warrior
+against us. Not a human warrior. I think
+we can expect the cloudy thing we saw
+quite soon, in one or another of the versions
+we’ve been watching.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But what is it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know. Something dangerous—that
+much you can be sure of. I think we
+can defeat it, once we discover what it is.
+So far we’ve always been able to defeat
+Brann’s warriors, no matter what form they
+had.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So far?” Miller asked. “And then someday—what?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Mentally Llesi shrugged. “Who knows? I,
+who read the future, realize better than most
+men that I have no way of guessing what is
+to come. I can see the possibilities here in
+the pool, I can foresee the worst dangers and
+prepare against them—but beyond that I
+can’t go. No. I don’t know what the outcome
+will be between Brann and me.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller said with abrupt decision, “You’ve
+looked too long in the Time Pool! You’ve
+been depending on what you see there to tell
+you what to do. Why not take the future into
+your own hands?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a curious stillness in his brain
+at that, as if Llesi were suddenly wary and
+watchful. Finally the voice that shared his
+mind spoke cautiously.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“What do you suggest?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Someday, if I understand you, Brann
+may succeed at last in creating a kind of
+warrior you can’t overcome. I saw this
+castle falling in one of those pictures in the
+pool, so I know it’s possible—no, even probable,
+that this thing he’s sending, or maybe
+the one after it, will be the one to destroy
+you. It that right?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Still caution and distrust ruled Llesi’s
+mind, but there was reluctant interest in
+the mental voice that said, “Go on. What are
+you thinking about?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann wants one thing—the Power. Is
+that right?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The Power and yourself, now. Yes,”
+Llesi answered.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So he’ll keep on attacking until he gets
+one or both. Why haven’t you attacked him
+first?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Do you think we haven’t tried? Brann’s
+castle is invulnerable. We’ve failed and
+failed and failed again to force any entry by
+any means we know. But Brann’s failed,
+too, against us. It’s stalemate.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It needn’t be. I have an idea.” Miller
+hesitated. “I won’t tell you now. You
+wouldn’t accept it. Later on, if things go
+wrong, maybe you’ll be willing to listen.
+Maybe—”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>From across the Time Pool, in the dimness
+of the garden, Orelle’s mental voice
+said clearly, “Don’t go on, Miller. Or are
+you really Brann?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller had the curious sensation in his
+brain that both he and Llesi had actually
+moved in the center of his skull, as he spun
+toward the dark tree where she stood watching.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“How long have you been here, child?”
+Llesi said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Long enough. I saw the cloudy thing
+coming in the Pool. I know what we’ve got
+to face—but not with treachery to make it
+even worse than it is. Oh, Llesi, won’t you
+let me kill him?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not yet,” Llesi said with a deadly sort of
+practicality. “Not yet, because you need me
+in the fight, and I’m helpless without this
+man. Nor am I wholly sure he can’t be
+trusted, Orelle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I heard what he was trying to suggest.
+Something treacherous—some way to help
+Brann win at last. Llesi, I’m afraid! This
+isn’t safe. I—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A flash of soundless white light without
+warning illumined the garden and the whole
+castle around it, so that every figure stood
+out in abrupt silhouette against the whiteness.
+As suddenly as it came, it went out,
+leaving momentary blindness behind it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle caught her breath and said, “The
+signal! Llesi—hurry! Whatever it is, it
+must be almost here!”</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER VI<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Invasion</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They saw it first far off on the plain,
+moving toward them through the clear
+darkness. At first it seemed only a mist
+that drifted with the wind but, when the
+wind shifted, the grey fog came on. Its heart
+was thicker and dimly the eye could glimpse
+intricate matrices of light far inside the
+cloud, glittering patterns like diamond cobwebs
+arranged in lattice formations.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller and Orelle, with Llesi a bodiless
+awareness beside them, stood at a glass wall
+looking out over the plain toward Brann’s
+castle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi breathed softly. “I know that pattern.
+It’s a bad one. The thing’s brain and control
+and energy-source are in the bright
+matrix you see. Watch now.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The lattices shifted into new geometric
+formations and out of the cloud rippling,
+soft grey tentacles thrust, thickening as they
+moved.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“That would be stronger than iron once it
+took shape,” Llesi was saying. “The pseudopod
+principle, of course. It will be a hard
+thing to fight.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They stood watching in silence while the
+grey cloud flowed forward with increasing
+speed until it was nearly within reaching
+distance of the castle. Far off, across the valley,
+the lights of Brann’s walls watched like
+eyes. Miller spoke impatiently.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Aren’t you going to do anything? Can’t
+you stop the thing?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I could. But I want to see what new ideas
+Brann has incorporated into this. It’s better
+to know than to guess. If I destroy this he’ll
+just send another. I’m going to let it try the
+gate.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The cloud flowed up to the outer wall.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.
+paused .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. seemed to be considering the
+massive glass barrier before it. Then the
+lattices rearranged, glittering. A finger of
+greyness reached out, seeped through the
+crack between gate and wall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Metal groaned in the quiet of the night.
+That tiny pseudopod was expanding with
+monstrous force. The gate shivered, crumpled—gave
+way.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Radiant shimmers of color flared down
+from the walls upon the cloudy thing as
+Llesi’s batteries went into action at last. In
+his own brain Miller could feel Llesi’s tense
+watchfulness as he waited to see how the
+creature would meet them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Its lattice-work heart shifted like a kaleidoscope.
+The clouds thickened, grew dark. It
+shrank—expanded again—and moved on
+into the castle, a wreathed thing of velvety
+blackness that swallowed up the attacking
+lights and ignored them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Now they lost sight of it but they could
+hear, partly through the vibrations of the
+castle walls themselves and partly through
+the confused mental cries of the people
+below them, the progress the machine was
+making. A transparent wall gave way before
+it and the crash of the collapse sent a
+terrible, ringing music all through the castle.
+There was the silent voiceless cry of a man
+caught in its unimaginable grip—a cry that
+shivered up to an unbearable peak in the
+brains of all who heard, and then went
+silent with a suddenness that made the
+listeners reel.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle seized Miller’s arm in a tight grip.
+“Come with me,” she said. “Hurry!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She was half-running as she led the way
+through the dark castle which was yet so
+clearly visible to the sight. The confusing
+halls were strange to him but before they
+reached their goal Miller was leading the
+way, Llesi in his brain sending out the
+mental orders that guided him, so that the
+corridors and doors and sloping glass ramps
+seemed to swing around and to fly open before
+him without the need of knowledge on
+his part.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was pandemonium below. Miller
+could feel the tension in Llesi’s mind and in
+Orelle’s as they raced toward the breached
+wall of their fortress. Llesi was unsure.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Maybe this is the one,” he said, half to
+himself, as the translucent walls spun past.
+“Maybe this one we can’t fight.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>More than one wall had been breached by
+the time they reached the scene of the fight.
+The castle was filled with the jangling, musical
+crashes of shattered glass and the cries—some
+of them vocal cries now—of the defenders.
+But from the attacking machine
+itself no sound came.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller saw it through jagged walls and
+over the heads of the castle’s men—a great
+coagulated cloud, velvet-soft and iron-hard,
+the colored lights of the defenders’ strange
+weapons beating upon it in vain. There were
+colors in the weapons such as Miller had
+never seen.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Photon showers,” Llesi told him briefly.
+“Very high-frequency light waves with an
+energy increase great enough to utilize the
+mass of the light. Those latticed patterns
+would be smashed by the impact—if we
+could reach them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“When you deal with anything as delicate
+as this you need a delicate weapon. The lattices
+would be impervious to heavy weapons
+but the mass of light itself could crush the
+patterns if I had some way to penetrate the
+cloud.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The photons should do it,” Orelle said in
+a worried voice. “Always before—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann has something new this time.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The cloud rolled on. Through the shattered
+walls they saw it engulf the men in its
+path, moving like a velvet-soft juggernaut
+that crushed all before it. It pressed its misty
+surface against another wall—there was a
+surging all through the mass and, briefly, a
+pattern of clouded lights glimmered deep in
+the smoky bulk.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The castle rang with the jangled music of
+another falling wall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It’s making straight for the Power,”
+Orelle said, quietly now. “Llesi, you’ve got
+to stop it.”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt in his own brain Llesi’s
+rapid, orderly thoughts, marshalling
+the facts and measuring against them his
+varied resources. Then, decisively, he spoke.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“We must get to the Power first. I can stop
+it but we’ll have to hurry.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>To Miller it seemed as if the castle spun
+around him again as, in obedience to the
+orders in his brain, he whirled and ran with
+Orelle at his heels. The corridors opened
+up before them, unfamiliar pathways looking
+strangely familiar to the double vision in
+his mind. Another wall smashed into ringing
+fragments behind them as they ran.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>With his new night-sight Miller could see
+a long way through the translucent walls
+of the glass castle. Lights had been kindled
+through the building now so that the glimmers,
+far and near, reflecting beyond intervening
+barriers, made the whole castle glow
+bewilderingly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But ahead of them, growing larger as they
+neared, was one part of the building that
+even this new sight could not penetrate. It
+was a great cube whose walls gave back the
+vision opaquely, as it loomed before them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle pushed past him as they reached it,
+spread both hands flat upon the dark surface.
+It parted before her, melting away as
+the other walls melted to admit entry, and
+she pressed through into the hidden room.
+Miller followed her, his brain spinning with
+his own curiosity and the complicated planning
+of Llesi who shared it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Afterward Miller could never remember
+clearly what he had seen in that great dark
+room. He had only an impression in retrospect
+of an immense number of delicate
+shining things that might have been instruments—of
+countless rows of containers over
+which light seemed to ripple and play from
+within the colored holders, like votive lights
+seen far off down the aisle of a cathedral—of
+things without name or recognizable
+shape.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the center of the room, hanging in the
+heart of a filligreed framework which it did
+not seem to touch anywhere, a clear transparent
+cube three feet through floated free.
+Within it a tilted halo of—of stars?—rotated
+slowly through the solid substance of the
+block. And very faintly, Miller thought he
+could hear music as it turned, the same music
+he had caught from the night sky, subsonic
+but still perceptible to his new senses.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The Power,” Orelle said, nodding toward
+the cube.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller went forward slowly until he stood
+by the delicate framework within which the
+block floated. He could feel a slight pressure
+constantly beating out from the rotating
+stars, and at the same time a slight equal
+suction—an impossible sort of double force
+that did not equalize itself but kept him in
+a continual state of muscular readjustment
+to balance the opposite pulls while he stood
+within its range.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He was trying to control the excitement
+that poured through him at his nearness to
+this unimaginable thing he had come so far
+to find. Slade would give all he had to
+possess it for, inexplicable as it was, there
+was a harnessed power in the mysterious
+thing unlike any power at man’s disposal in
+the lower world beyond Peak Seven Hundred.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then, in his brain, Llesi said impatiently,
+“Later you can examine it. I need you now,
+if we’re going to stop Brann’s beast. Turn
+around—go to the far wall, reach up to that
+container of blue light and.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller’s conscious mind ceased to make
+sense out of the orders Llesi gave it but his
+body was obedient. He did not try to resist.
+He relaxed his own will and allowed Llesi
+full control, so that he was only dimly aware
+of what his body did in the next few minutes.
+His hands were busy, and there was an intense,
+quiet activity in his mind.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>An activity that gradually began to slow.
+Lights swelled and sank beneath his busy
+fingers. Heat and cold and other stranger
+sensations he could not name bathed his
+hands and arms, beat against his intent face
+bent above them. But into his mind slowly a
+sense of frustration crept.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He made an effort to bring his own mind
+back into focus and asked Llesi a quick
+mental question.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I don’t know,” Llesi’s mind replied. “It
+isn’t easy. I think I can stop the thing but
+at a cost we can scarcely afford. And I could
+only do it once. Brann will know that. He’ll
+have only to send another just like it and—”
+The thought blanked out as if even in his
+subconsciousness Llesi did not want to shape
+the end of that idea.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller put forth greater effort and shrugged
+off the inertia of his mind which had been
+necessary while Llesi worked. He was keenly
+alert now. He had a job to do.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Will you listen to me?” he asked. “I think
+I’ve got an answer—if you’ll trust me.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi’s reply was wary but there was
+eagerness in it too. “What do you want us to
+do?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tell me first—can you duplicate this
+Power source?”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>With a double accord both Llesi and
+Miller turned to gaze at the floating
+cube with its lazily rotating halo of glittering
+light.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I can, yes,” Llesi said. “Why?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Easily? Soon?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not in time to stop Brann’s creature, no.
+It would take several hours.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Then,” Miller said, bracing himself for
+the storm he knew must follow his suggestion,
+“then I think you’ll have to let the
+thing downstairs take your Power and carry
+it back to Brann.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a mental explosion of fury and
+refusal.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>After it had died down, while Orelle still
+gazed at him with burning dark eyes full
+of distrust and hatred, and Llesi still smouldered
+angry thoughts in his brain, Miller
+went on.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I know—I know. In your place I’d feel
+the same. But look at it dispassionately if
+you can. Brann has you where he wants you
+now. You can only drive off this mechanism
+downstairs once and Brann can send another
+to take the Power source anyhow. If
+you stay passive you’re beaten. But listen
+to me—and maybe you can still win. Attack!
+Let the Power go—but follow it.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was silence for a moment, while the
+two others digested this idea. Then Orelle
+said, “We could only follow to Brann’s walls.
+We’ve never been able to get into his castle
+and—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Don’t you see, this is the only way! He’ll
+have to make room for the cube of the Power
+to enter. If we follow, there ought to be a
+way for us to force an entry too. Especially
+if he doesn’t suspect. Oh, I know—you think
+I <span class='it'>am</span> Brann. I wish there were some way to—wait!
+Could you read my mind if I opened
+it to you? Would you believe me then?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slowly Orelle said, “I think it might be
+possible. Are you willing to let me try?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller hesitated for a moment. There is a
+curious reluctance in the human mind to
+strip aside the last dark barrier that separates
+each individual from the world he
+lives in. The privacy of the mind is so jealously
+guarded a secret that not even if a man
+wills it can he wholly bare his thoughts to
+another. But unless Miller let Orelle into
+those innermost chambers there was little
+hope of success for any of them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If I don’t,” he thought, “Brann will win,
+in the end. And if he wins—well, I have
+more to lose than anyone here.” Aloud, in
+his mental voice, he said to Orelle, “Yes—try
+if you’re able.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She smiled a little. “Let your mind go
+blank. Don’t offer any resistance—no, none
+at all—you <span class='it'>are</span> resisting me, Miller. Let me
+have the truth. Brann—Brann .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. are you
+Brann? I must know.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Her eyes held his and, as they had done
+once before, began to grow larger and larger
+until they blotted out the room and were a
+dark pool in which his consciousness was
+sinking.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Thank you,” Orelle said quietly. “I’m
+sorry. You were telling me the truth all
+along—unless you’re more cunning than I
+think you are and know how to hide your
+secrets even deeper than the unconscious
+mind. I see that you mean us well. I see
+another thing, too—why you came here.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes. You had to know that anyhow. It
+was why I asked about duplicating the
+Power cube.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He wants to take it away with him,
+Llesi,” Orelle said and for the first time Miller
+realized that Orelle had been in even
+closer communion with his mind than Llesi
+himself, who dwelt in its very center. For
+Llesi had not seen the depths of it—he did
+not know what Orelle knew now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“To take it away?” Llesi demanded, incredulity
+in his thought. “But—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Yes,” Orelle said quickly. “We could
+arrange for that, Llesi. If this plan works
+well owe him more reward than that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“But Orelle,” Llesi persisted, “doesn’t he
+understand? Doesn’t he know that—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The thought ceased abruptly, and Miller
+had the uneasy feeling that the two were
+communicating on some higher plane of
+silence where he could not follow them. He
+was suddenly uneasy. There was something
+here he didn’t understand. The two of them
+knew something—about himself?—that he
+did not yet know, something that affected his
+future intimately.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“What is it?” he demanded. “If I help you,
+I’ve a right to know.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle turned to him, her dark eyes gentle
+now, the hatred and mistrust gone out of
+them. “There isn’t time,” she said. “Listen.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Far off, but audible through the opaque
+walls, the tinkle of falling glass came clearly
+to them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It’s the machine,” Llesi said. “We haven’t
+time to waste now. If we follow your plan
+we mustn’t let it win too easily or Brann will
+suspect. Do you have any ideas of what to
+do after we enter Brann’s castle?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not yet,” Miller said almost absently.
+He was thinking hard about the strange
+little passage just ended. Until this moment
+he had not dared offer to open his whole
+mind for their inspection, because he had had
+nothing to bargain with. Inevitably Orelle
+would have seen that he wanted the Power
+and he had nothing to offer in return—until
+now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Well, it was a success in one way, but in
+another—failure? He couldn’t be sure. Oddly
+the balance had shifted and it was he who
+mistrusted his companions and they who
+believed at last that he could be depended
+on. Certainly they were hiding something
+vital from him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not yet,” he said again, forcing his mind
+to take up the immediate problem as the
+jangle of another falling barrier came more
+loudly through the walls. “I only know it’s
+easier to work on inspiration when you’re
+on the offensive—and once in Brann’s castle,
+we’ll need inspiration!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann’s—unbalanced. We know that.
+Push him farther off balance by attacking
+and maybe we’ll have an advantage. You
+know, there must be something important
+he’s hiding or he wouldn’t operate from the
+dark as he does. If we can see him face to
+face—well, who knows?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“When you say ‘we’,” Orelle interrupted,
+“whom do you mean?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Myself. Llesi and me.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“And Orelle,” the girl said quietly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Of course not! It’s going to be dangerous.
+Besides—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“No more dangerous to go than to wait for
+Brann’s vengeance if you fail. Tsi is my
+sister. I think I can control her and that
+should be a weapon you may need. You can’t
+take more than one or two with you if you
+hope to get in secretly so an army would do
+no good. But one companion—I think I could
+be useful to you, Miller.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Llesi,” Miller said to the voice in his
+brain, “what do you think?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was silence for a moment. “Let her
+come,” Llesi said. “What she says about Tsi
+is true enough. We may need her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the quiet a musical ringing of more
+breaking glass sounded clearer than before.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It’s coming,” Llesi said. “Now we have
+work to do. Are you ready, Miller? Take
+down that lens mounted on the tesseract and
+do as I tell you. We mustn’t let the machine
+win without a struggle.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.”</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER VII<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Battle of the Titans</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the light of earliest dawn they could
+see it rolling toward them far off across
+the plain. Crouching under the loom of
+Brann’s castle walls, Miller and Orelle waited
+almost in silence. It had seemed wisest to
+hurry ahead by teleportation and take shelter
+while Brann was presumably occupying all
+his powers with the direction of his mechanical
+warrior as it broke down the walls of the
+Power chamber and seized at last the thing
+he had sought so long.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Now the two watchers—three, for Llesi
+waited in Miller’s brain—saw the lazily
+turning halo of pointed lights which was the
+Power glowing through the cloudiness of
+the machine that carried it. Faintly the
+soundless music of its turning floated to their
+ears.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“We’ll have no time to waste,” Llesi
+warned them. “Brann’s wanted the Power
+for a purpose, you know. Once he learns how
+to use it there’ll be no hope of controlling
+him. Whatever we do we must do fast.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Can he learn quickly how to operate it?”
+Miller asked.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You’re thinking of yourself.” Llesi
+sounded amused. “Yes, it can be mastered
+without too much difficulty. But don’t think
+about it now, Miller. You have our promise.
+Be content with that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller stirred restlessly. “You’re hiding
+something. I’ve opened my mind to you,
+Orelle. If I deserve any reward for what
+I’m helping you do I deserve the truth from
+you. What is it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle shook her head. “Don’t ask us now.
+I’ll tell you if we come out of this alive.
+But it will only distract you now. I promise
+you it’s nothing that will affect our plans to
+conquer Brann. You need all your thoughts
+to do that. Afterward there’ll be time to talk
+of other things. Look—it’s nearly here. I
+wonder where Brann means to let it into the
+castle.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The music of the turning stars was clearer
+now. Miller could feel remotely that extraordinary
+attraction-repulsion action which
+the Power constantly exerted—it was so near
+to them as they crouched in hiding. The
+machine rolled its cloudy bulk past them,
+almost brushing their faces with the periphery
+of its mist, and moved up over the
+jumble of rocks that bordered Brann’s castle.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It pressed close against the surface of the
+wall. Light glowing down from that extraordinary
+barrier which ran like water and
+shone like fire cast colored shadows upon the
+mist, so that it was like a cumulus of sunset-lighted
+cloud as it flattened itself against
+the wall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller could see Orelle’s anxious face
+lighted with strange hues from the water-wall
+as she watched. He held his breath.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Within the sunset cloud patterns of latticed
+diamond moved and shifted. The wall surface
+dimmed as if a breath had blown upon it.
+Darkness grew where the dimness was—and
+suddenly a door had opened in the
+streaming water-light of the barrier.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Now!” Llesi breathed. “Now—follow it
+in!” She rushed forward.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was one breathless, heart-stopping
+moment when the rocks turned beneath their
+feel and Orelle, stumbling, nearly fell. The
+darkness of the opened door was already
+beginning to mist over with solidity when
+they reached it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Dangerous.” Llesi’s thought flashed
+through Miller’s brain, lightning-like, far
+faster than it takes to express in words. “If
+we miss the turn of the wall-substance we’ll
+be caught in the solid mass. Hurry! Never
+mind making a noise. Hurry!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It was like pushing through a thin jelly
+of darkness that gave way readily enough
+but thickened perceptibly even as they
+moved. “Don’t breathe!” Llesi warned them.
+“Hold your breath if you can—I think you’ll
+be through in a moment.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The substance of the wall was a stiff,
+scarcely yielding stuff by the time they
+pushed free into clear air. They had made it
+with nothing to spare. Orelle reached back
+to touch the surface with a wondering hand
+as soon as she caught her breath, and the
+way they had come was already a solid
+resilient surface that lost its resilience as
+she pressed it and became hard unyielding
+wall again.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They stood in a steeply sloping corridor
+that echoed with the thin voiceless music of
+the Power. Ahead of them the slowly spinning
+stars were visible through cloudy grey
+moving rapidly up the ramp away from
+them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Silently they followed.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They were far down under the main floors
+of the castle. On their left, as they climbed
+the steep ramp, the wall of flowing light
+moved ceaselessly, tracing their shadows in
+the inner wall of the corridor.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Somewhere there must be guards,”
+Orelle said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I’d feel better if we’d seen some before
+now,” Llesi told them uneasily. “I have a
+feeling Brann may be more omniscient than
+we know.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The ramp came to a steep end and turned
+back upon itself in a second long zig-zag
+rise. They toiled up in the wake of the
+cloudy robot that carried the Power. Still
+no guards.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The ramp zig-zagged twice more and then
+there was a great open area, like a spacious
+chimney, rising overhead. The ramp had
+ended. Lightly, like the cloud it was, the
+robot left the ground. Teleportation carried
+it out of sight with startling swiftness. From
+high above the sound of voices drifted down
+the well, laughter, music.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Without a word Orelle put out her arm
+and clasped Miller’s hand. A moment later
+the ground no longer pressed his feet. The
+light-wall slid down past them like a Niagara
+of colored water.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The hall in which Brann held court was
+a vast domed circle. In the center of it
+rose a dais—and over the dais a curtain of
+darkness hung in straight columnar folds
+from the great height of the ceiling, veiling
+the platform. On its steps a woman was sitting,
+a stringed instrument on her knee.
+Rainbow hair swung forward about her
+shoulders as she bent her head and swept
+a hand across the strings. Wild, high music
+rang through the room.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Someone called, “Brann! Where is Brann?”
+and the woman looked up, smiling. It was
+Tsi.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He’ll be here. He’s coming. He expects
+guests,” she said and looked straight across
+the room toward the far wall where, in an
+alcove, the robot stood motionless, enshrouding
+the Power in a misty cloud.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Behind the robot, huddled against the alcove
+wall, Miller felt Orelle’s fingers tighten
+upon his. So long as the robot stood quiet,
+they were hidden behind its foggy outlines.
+When it moved—</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“She means us,” Orelle whispered. “I
+know Tsi. What shall we do?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Wait,” Llesi counseled. “Listen.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>In the great room beyond, where Brann’s
+court of brilliantly robed men and women
+lounged on divans that seemed cushioned
+with substance as immaterial as mist, a discontented
+cry was beginning to rise. Many
+mental voices blended in the clamor now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann! Call him up, Tsi, call him up!
+Tell him the robot’s here. We want Brann
+again!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi swept the strings musically. “He’s still
+asleep, down below,” she said. “I’m not sure
+if I dare wake him yet. Shall I try?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Go down and call him,” someone urged,
+petulance in the voice that spoke. “We’ve
+waited too long already. Call him, Tsi!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi smiled. “His visitors must be here by
+now,” she said maliciously. “Yes, I’ll go down
+and waken Brann.” She laid the harp on the
+steps and rose.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>At the same moment Miller felt a surge
+of force suddenly burst into blinding violence
+in the center of his brain. For an instant he
+was stunned by the power that seemed to
+pour tangibly forth from him and through
+him.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The robot that had screened them from
+view rose from the floor, lightly as a cloud,
+drifted forward over the heads of the gaping
+audience and turned suddenly incandescent
+just above the dais where Tsi stood.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller knew it was Llesi’s doing, even
+before the quiet voice in his brain said, “This
+is the best way, after all. Attack. You were
+right, Miller. Now watch.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The robot was pure flame now. With a
+detached part of his mind Miller understood
+that it must have been deactivated once its
+mission was completed, so that any mind
+which teleported it now could do with it as
+it would. Llesi chose to destroy it in as
+spectacular a manner as he could contrive.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Out of the blinding cloud of its dissolution
+the cube of the Power fell, the singing halo
+in it turning with slow, indifferent steadiness.
+The transparent block struck the steps a yard
+from where Tsi stood. It struck—and crashed
+through, splitting the white marble from top
+to floor. Tsi staggered.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The crash rang from the high vaults above,
+rebounding from arch to arch in distant,
+diminishing echoes that came slowly back to
+the watcher below, long after the dais had
+ceased to vibrate.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi recovered her balance, turned on the
+shattered steps, looked straight across the
+hall to the alcove where Miller and Orelle
+stood.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She was shaken but she had not lost her
+poise.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Sister!” she said, “Welcome to Brann’s
+castle. Shall I call him to greet you?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>From Orelle a strong steady thought went
+out, compelling and quiet.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Tsi, sister, you must do as you think best.
+Is it best for us that Brann be called?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The woman on the dais hesitated. Miller
+could see that the quiet confidence in Orelle’s
+mental voice has shaken her a little. He
+knew now what Orelle had meant when she
+said she could control Tsi.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It was a simple matter of sister speaking
+to sister with the voice of authority, calling
+back to mind the precepts of conscience and
+childhood training. Tsi was not, he thought,
+evil as Brann was evil. She was weak, certainly—and
+perhaps the weakness would
+stand them in good stead.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She said uncertainly, “Orelle, I think perhaps—”
+But the voices from the audience
+around her, rising with sudden violence,
+drowned out whatever it was she meant to
+say. Miller was reminded of Roman audiences
+clamoring for blood in the arena.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann, <span class='it'>Brann</span>!” the voices howled.
+“Waken Brann! Go call him up to meet his
+guests! <span class='it'>Brann</span>, waken from your sleep!
+Brann, <span class='it'>Brann</span>, do you hear us?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi hesitated a moment longer. Miller was
+aware of a desperate stream of thought-waves
+pouring out from Orelle beside him
+but the noise of the assembled people was
+too strong for her. She could not get through
+to her sister. Tsi turned suddenly, putting
+both hands to her face, and stumbled up the
+broken steps toward the dais.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The long curtains that hung a hundred
+feet or more from the height of the ceiling
+trembled down all their dark length as she
+put them aside and vanished into the big
+tent they made, hiding the platform.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a moment’s profound silence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then Miller said quietly to Orelle, “Come
+on,” and, seizing her hand, strode forward
+across the floor. He had no idea what he
+meant to do but if he had come to attack
+then attack he must—not stand waiting for
+Brann to make an entrance on his throne.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Heads turned avidly to watch their
+progress across the great room. No
+one made a move to block their way, but
+eager eyes watched every motion they made
+and searched their faces for expression. This
+was the audience, Miller thought grimly, that
+would have watched Brann’s terrible “experiments”
+upon him if he had not escaped from
+the castle—with Tsi’s help. It was the audience,
+he realized, that might yet watch, if he
+failed.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi was silent in his brain, waiting.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>They were almost at the steps when the
+curtains stirred as if a breath of wind had
+blown through the hall. Tsi’s voice came
+weakly from the hidden place, “Wait, Brann—you
+mustn’t—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But drowning out the feeble protest another
+voice sounded clear. Miller, hearing
+that thin, sweet, sneering pattern which was
+the mental voice he had heard before, the
+voice of Brann, felt a chill sliding down his
+spine and a tightening of all his muscles. It
+was a hateful, a frightening voice, evoking
+a picture of a hateful man.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Come out, Brann!” Miller said strongly.
+“Unless you’re afraid of us—come out!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Behind him in the hall two or three intrepid
+voices echoed the invitation. “Come
+out Brann! Let us see you. You aren’t
+afraid, Brann—come out!” He knew from
+that how high curiosity must run even in
+Brann’s stronghold and he realized that not
+even here, then, had Brann ever yet showed
+his face. It made him a little more confident.
+If Brann had so much to hide, then, there
+must be weaknesses behind that curtain
+upon which he could play.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He said, “Here’s the Power you wanted,
+Brann. We broke your platform but here it
+is waiting. Do you dare come out and look
+at it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann said nothing. But his thin, sardonic
+laughter rang silently through the hall.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt it rasping his nerves like something
+tangible. He said roughly, “All right
+then—I’ll come and bring you out!” And he
+set his foot firmly on the lowest step.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A breath of excitement and anticipation
+ran rippling through the hall. Llesi was still
+silent. Orelle’s hand in Miller’s squeezed his
+fingers reassuringly. He mounted the second
+step, reached out his free hand for the curtain.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a deep, wrenching sound of
+stone against stone, and under his feet the
+steps lurched sickeningly. And then he was
+falling.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The walls spun. The floor tilted up to
+strike him a solid blow—that did not touch
+him. For some firm, supporting mind closed
+its protection around his body and he floated
+gently a dozen feet and came to solid footing
+again, dazed but unhurt.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The marble block of steps lay upturned
+upon the floor. Teleportation again, he realized.
+Brann had uprooted the steps he had
+climbed to prevent him from reaching the
+curtain. And someone—Llesi or Orelle—had
+reached out a mental beam to teleport him to
+safety.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann’s cold clear laughter rang silently
+through the hall. He had not yet spoken. He
+did not speak now but his derision was like
+vitriol to the ears and the mind. Brann was
+waiting.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. Somehow Miller could sense
+that, as he waited, an eagerness and impatience
+went out from him toward that block
+of transparence on the broken steps, where
+the halo of the Power revolved on its singing
+axis.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Llesi realized it in the same instant and
+Miller felt in his brain the beginnings of
+some plan take shape—too late. For now
+there was a strange heaviness in the very air
+about him—a familiar heaviness.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. This
+was the weapon Brann had used on him once
+before, turning the air itself to a crushing
+weight that had all but smashed his ribs in
+upon the laboring lungs.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He felt his knees buckle under that sudden,
+overwhelming pressure. The air screamed
+around him and the vast hanging curtains of
+the dais billowed with a serpentine motion
+as displaced air moved with hurricane suddenness
+through the great room. Miller’s
+breath was stopped in his chest by that unbearable
+pressure. His ears sang and the
+room swam redly before him. Brann’s careless
+laughter was a distant ripple of sound.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Power from outside himself gathered in
+Miller’s brain, gathered and spilled over in a
+wave like molten flame. He felt it gush out
+toward the platform where Brann sat hidden.
+But he was blind and deaf with the
+crushing weight of that suddenly ponderable
+air.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Even above his own deafness and the
+shriek of the unnatural wind in the room he
+heard the scream of riven marble. And the
+weight upon him lessened a little. He could
+see again. He could see the great block of
+stone uprooted with jagged edges from the
+broken floor at the foot of Brann’s dais.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It seemed to tear itself free, to leap into the
+air of its own volition—to hurtle toward
+Brann’s curtains as if Brann’s castle itself
+had suddenly turned upon him with great
+jagged stone fangs. In his brain Miller could
+feel the tremendous, concentrated effort of
+Llesi’s teleportation, balancing the marble
+weapon and guiding it on its course.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The weight upon him ceased abruptly. The
+release was so sudden that the congested
+blood drained from Miller’s brain and for an
+instant the great room swam before him. In
+that moment of faltering the hurtling marble
+fragment faltered too and Llesi and Miller
+together struggled with the faintness of
+Miller’s overtaxed brain.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann seized the opening that brief
+hesitation gave him. He could not stop
+the flying weapon but he could block it.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.
+A broken segment of the marble steps flew
+up in the path of the oncoming boulder,
+grated against it, deflected its course.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The two struck together upon the dais
+steps and thundered down them with a
+ponderous sort of deliberation, bounding
+from step to step, their echoes rolling from
+the high ceiling. They went crashing across
+the floor, ploughing into the divans where
+Brann’s court had lain watching this unexpected
+sight.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The screams of the watchers as the great
+marble blocks rolled down upon them added
+a frenzied accompaniment to the echoes of
+thunder wakened by the stone itself. The
+room was a tumult of sound re-echoing upon
+sound.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt a renewed outpouring of Llesi’s
+power move in his brain. He saw a gigantic
+marble pillar across the room stagger suddenly
+on its base, crack across, lean majestically
+outward and fall. But it did not
+strike the floor. Instead it hurtled headlong,
+jagged end first, toward the dais.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Above it the ceiling buckled. There was a
+terrible shriek of metal upon stone as the
+vaulted roof gave way. But the falling debris,
+in turn, did not strike the floor. Deflected in
+a rain of shattered marble, it moved to intercept
+the flying pillar. Column and broken
+stone together crashed to the ground at the
+very foot of Brann’s dais.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The great hall was full of the shrieks of
+the scattering court, the cries of men caught
+beneath the falling ceiling, the uproar of echo
+upon echo as Brann’s throne room collapsed
+in thunderous noise upon its own floor.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>When the thunder ceased all who could
+flee had vanished. Half the ceiling lay in
+fragments upon the floor and Miller stood
+dizzily looking up at the dais whose long
+curtains still billowed in the wind. Brann was
+silent for a moment as if gathering his resources
+for another try. And Llesi was
+whispering,</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“My strength is failing, Miller. I can’t keep
+it up much longer. I’m going to try one last
+thing. I’ve got to know what it is Brann’s hiding.
+Help me if you can—and watch!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>For an instant there was silence. Then,
+from far overhead, a long shudder began and
+rippled down the length of those vast hanging
+curtains which shrouded Brann’s dais.
+Stone groaned deeply upon stone in the
+ceiling.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>From the hidden platform Brann shrieked
+a soundless, “<span class='it'>No!</span>” as the block from which
+the curtains hung tore itself free of the vault
+above and came crashing down to rebound
+from the shattering pavement.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The curtains themselves fell far more
+slowly. Like smoke they wavered in the air,
+collapsing softly, deliberately, parting to one
+side and the other.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller could see Brann trying to stop that
+fall. Invisibly the forces of his mind seemed
+to claw at their drifting lengths. But there
+was something wrong now in Brann’s mind.
+Even Miller could sense it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A dissolution was taking place that the
+mind felt and shrank from. Something worse
+than hysteria, more frightening than fear itself.
+Llesi was suddenly intent and Orelle
+caught her breath.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Like smoke the last fragments of the curtains
+parted, lying to left and right along the
+broken floor, far out, in long swaths of
+shadow.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>On the platform stood Brann.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The figure that had terrorized such a
+multitude for so long stood swaying, clutching
+a black cloak about it as if to hide the
+shape of the body beneath. The face was
+contorted into a terrible grimace of anger
+and cold grinning hate. But the face itself
+was one they had all seen before.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>It was the face of Tsi.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Her eyes were closed. She did not look at
+them nor speak nor move. And, Miller
+thought to himself, as Brann perhaps she
+had never opened her eyes. As Brann perhaps
+that grimace of chill hate always distorted
+her features. For it was clear to them
+all now that Tsi was mad.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Schizophrenia,” Miller thought automatically.
+“Split personality.” But there was
+no answering thought from Llesi or from
+Orelle. Stunned amazement held them both
+frozen.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi turned her unseeing eyes to Orelle. In
+Brann’s thin, cold, high-pitched voice-pattern
+she said, “Now you know. Now
+you’ve seen Brann. But before I kill you
+both, tell me—Orelle, <span class='it'>where is Tsi?</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt a cold shudder ripple over him.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER VIII<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>The Consuming Fire</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>At the same moment he realized that
+Orelle and Llesi could not help him
+against—Brann. Their thoughts came into
+his mind with a stunned, incredulous tinge
+of astonishment, a blank bafflement that,
+strangely, seemed to leave them helpless.
+And Miller thought he knew why.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle and Llesi and all their race had
+been conditioned to mental perfection. Never
+before in their history, he sensed, had there
+been any case of mental aberration. The
+race had been too perfect for that. And now,
+faced with the pattern of schizophrenic split-personality,
+they were utterly unable to comprehend
+its meaning. It was too alien to
+them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Insanity had never before existed in
+Orelle’s race.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller sent a frantic message to Llesi—inchoate
+confused memory-pictures from his
+scant knowledge of psycho-therapy. But
+Llesi did not understand. Instead he suddenly
+closed his mind. And, beside Miller,
+Orelle, too, closed her mind against a concept
+so shocking to this race that worshiped
+mental perfection that they could not consciously
+face it.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The blind figure on the dais bent forward.
+“Orelle.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” it said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>So Brann did not know that the other half
+of his mind belonged to Tsi. Naturally!
+Brann would not know that he was a half,
+an incomplete split personality. Nor would
+Tsi know that Brann was part of herself.
+What curious warp in the inherited genes
+had brought about this cleavage Miller never
+knew, but he did not think about that now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He stepped forward.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Brann!” he called.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So you are back.” The thought came
+coldly into his mind. “Well, the machine I
+tricked you into carrying failed to kill Llesi
+but I’ll remedy that soon enough. As for
+you.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.” Thin mental laughter mocked
+Miller.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He felt sweat crawling down his forehead.
+“Wait,” he thought urgently. “I can tell you
+where Tsi is.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He sensed a hesitancy and then an urgent,
+straining question.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Where? <span class='it'>Where is she?</span>”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You are—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller felt the mind on the dais close swiftly
+against the thought. Brann would not let
+himself listen to the truth. He could not.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann thought. “Well? Answer me?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Troubled, uncomprehending, Orelle and
+Llesi waited and listened. And suddenly
+Miller knew the answer. He unbuckled the
+wrist-watch from his arm. Orelle had returned
+it to him, the deadly lightning machine
+removed. As a timepiece it was
+useless but habit had made Miller keep the
+watch.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Take this,” he said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann—Tsi—waited.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller held it up. “It’s not dangerous any
+more. Can’t you tell that?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“A trick. You know nothing of what I wish
+to know. Why should I waste time on any
+of you?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If you want to find Tsi,” Miller thought,
+“you must take this thing. Unless you’re
+afraid to find her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The watch spun from his hand and shot
+glittering across the room. It was in Brann’s
+hand.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller drew a long breath. “Turn it over.
+That’s it. Hold it up before your face. Yes.
+Now .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. open your eyes.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“My eyes will not open.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Open them!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“They have never opened.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tension sang through the still air. Miller
+felt Orelle’s sudden movement toward him.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“If you open your eyes you will find Tsi.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>That was the gap in the armor. That was
+the one thing that could pierce Brann’s insane
+half-mind. The blind white eyelids
+quivered .&nbsp;.&nbsp;. the long lashes lifted, slowly,
+slowly.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann’s eyes looked into the polished steel
+back of the watch. In that tiny mirror
+Brann’s eyes looked into—Tsi’s!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi’s eyes—wide, horrified—stared into
+Brann’s!</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was no protection against the mental
+avalanche that roared out from that rocking,
+screaming mind—the two minds—in the single
+body of Tsi. For the first time Brann saw
+the girl he had searched for since his strange
+birth. And for the first time Tsi saw her own
+face twisted, distorted, into the grimace of
+chilly hatred that was irrevocably stamped
+on Brann’s features.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But what Miller felt was—pity. It was the
+basic principle of mental therapy—making
+the patient face his problem squarely. But
+no ordinary human schizophrenic had ever
+thus had the curtains of his brain ripped
+away with such sudden violence. The normal
+human brain has automatic safeguards
+against such intrusion.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Tsi was of another race—a race mentally
+developed to a tremendously high standard.
+She had been warped before birth though
+the madness had remained latent for a long
+time—but her mind was nevertheless powerful
+enough to be able to face the shocking
+incredible truth.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>She had never been evil, as was Brann—weak,
+yes, but incapable of that cold
+cruelty her alter ego loved.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Face to face, for a thunderous, eternity-long
+instant, the two stood—good and evil
+mated, monstrously wedded in one body and
+one brain. The silence roared.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then the hand that held the mirror
+dropped. The face of Tsi swung round so
+that her mad, wild, terrified eyes met Miller’s—and
+he read destruction there. The double
+mind looked out of those eyes into his and
+for an instant it was as if both Tsi and Brann
+spoke to him—as he had first heard them
+speaking when he woke in this incredible
+world.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>But then they had not known the truth.
+It had been a split mind talking to itself,
+good and evil debating together and not
+guessing they were housed in a single brain.
+Now they knew. At some point in the past
+the evil inherent in Tsi had lost its battle
+with the good in her—and pulled free of the
+control of her conscious mind. It had called
+itself by a new name, given itself a masculine
+identity to disguise its origin still further,
+grown so strong that not even Tsi could
+control it any longer.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Brann was abhorrent to Tsi. And to Brann
+the knowledge that Tsi was himself was a
+thing he could not face. The split mind,
+rocking on its foundation, reached out into
+Miller’s mind with a mad destructive violence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You brought ruin on me!” cried the double
+voice. “You wrecked my castle and my
+life! You must die and all your kind with
+you!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The eyes caught Miller’s in a drowning
+stare. He could not look away, and the eyes
+were growing larger and larger, engulfing
+him in darkness and in the darkness the
+madness of two minds swirled terribly, carrying
+away his own sanity on those dreadful,
+reasonless vortices.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller could no longer see Orelle but he
+heard her moan, a soft whimper of helpless
+terror. “I can’t—help you,” she was saying
+from far away. “I can’t fight the two of
+them. Llesi—<span class='it'>Llesi</span>—where are you?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>For a moment there was no answer. The
+mad twin-mind buffeted at Miller’s from
+both sides at once, pulling it asunder, spinning
+in two opposite directions and straining
+him apart between them. No single mind
+could withstand the doubled strength of that
+split brain dragging him down to madness.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And then, suddenly, he was not fighting
+alone. Out of the darkness Llesi’s mind came
+swiftly, intangibly, yet with a strength as if
+the man himself had set his shoulder against
+Miller’s, bracing him against the whirlpool
+whose vortex led down to insanity.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Perhaps no other mind in existence could
+have stood against the riven mind of Brann-Tsi.
+But in Miller’s brain too a double mind
+had been housed—his own and Llesi’s. They
+had learned to work together. And now they
+could fight.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a voiceless scream of fury—Brann’s
+thin, high, sweet-toned rage. And
+the buffeting redoubled from two sides at
+once. But now there were two minds to meet
+the attack. Miller drew a deep breath and
+set himself stubbornly against the whirling
+drag that was pulling him down to darkness.
+He could feel the strong resistance of Llesi’s
+mind, fighting beside his own, struggling
+hard against the double pull.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>For a timeless moment the vortex held
+them both. In that roaring silence, while
+madness raved about them, neither side
+seemed able to shake the others. Attacker
+and attacked stood matched so perfectly that
+the balance might have held forever with
+the fury of the split mind screaming its
+soundless cry in infinity.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Then the scream shivered up to a peak of
+madness that no sane mind could sustain.
+And while the vortex still rang with it .&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The robed figure on the dais moved suddenly.
+Miller’s blindness lifted again. He
+could see the dark robe stream back from
+Tsi’s rainbow garments as she plunged down
+the steps toward the crystal block, where the
+halo of the Power turned in its singing silence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>A bolt of the mind reached out before her
+toward the halo—a summoning bolt. One
+quivering thought shook the air of the room.
+Death was the thought. Tsi and Brann could
+not live together in the same brain and face
+the knowledge of their oneness. There was
+no choice but death for them now.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The bolt of white lightning blazed up to
+meet that plunging figure in answer to its
+summons. Blazed up and swallowed Tsi—and
+Brann.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There was a shimmer in the air where the
+body and the twin mind had hovered. And
+then—nothing.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<div><h1>CHAPTER IX<br/> <span class='sub-head'><span class='it'>Fairy Gold</span></span></h1></div>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller found himself sitting on the
+broken marble steps with his head in
+his hands. How long a time had passed he
+had no idea. Orelle’s touch on his shoulder
+made him look up at last. She was smiling a
+little but her eyes were grave.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Are you all right now?” she asked.
+“You’re safe. We’re all safe, thanks to you.
+I’m glad I’ve never known your world if you
+could understand a thing like that—that
+madness. But I’m glad you did understand it—for
+our sakes. You saved us, Miller. You
+can ask your own reward.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He looked at her groggily, thinking with
+incongruous steadiness that he was probably
+suffering from shock now and not really responsible.
+But he glanced involuntarily
+toward the crystal block of the Power.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle’s smile was sad. “Yes,” she said,
+“we can make you a duplicate if you ask us.
+But it would be effort wasted in the end.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He stared at her, not understanding. Then
+his eyes went beyond her to the shattered
+wall and the beautiful shining day outside.
+New senses were burgeoning in him and he
+could sense in that glittering sunlight colors
+and sounds and glories beyond anything
+words could tell.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The air was a tangible thing against his
+cheek, velvet soft, sweeter than perfume.
+He was beginning to perceive new shapes
+moving dimly on the edge of vision, as if
+there were a whole unknown world just now
+slowly unveiling before his freshly opened
+eyes.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller laughed suddenly. “I know what
+you mean,” he said. “I must be stupid, not to
+have seen it until now. Of course I won’t
+want a duplicate of the Power. Why should
+I? I’m not going back to Slade. I’d be crazy
+if I left a paradise like this. What good
+would a duplicate do me when I’m staying on
+here—forever!”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Orelle shook her shining head. Her eyes
+were very sad. In a gentle voice she began to
+speak. And Llesi’s voice, gentle too in the
+dimness of his mind, spoke with her.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Very quietly they told him the truth.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“So you know now it was fairy gold,” the
+Belgian said, sliding the bottle across the
+table. “Well, I could not have made you believe.
+You had to experience it yourself.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller looked at nothing.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Van Hornung glanced toward the fire,
+shivered and reached out a stubby finger
+toward the dull cube on the table between
+them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Drink,” he said.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Slowly Miller obeyed. There was a long
+silence.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Finally Van Hornung said, “It is—still the
+same up there? The castles and the wonderful
+people and the—colors? But it would be.
+The colors—I was an artist once. I think
+the colors meant most to me. There were so
+many we do not know.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Orelle told me,” Miller said dully. “I
+wouldn’t believe her. I didn’t want to believe
+her.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“There are the legends, Miller,” Van
+Hornung said. “You and I aren’t the first.
+We won’t be the last. There have always been
+stories of humans who visit Paradise for a
+little while—and leave again. I’m no scientist.
+I never knew why—”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller glanced up. His eyes brightened a
+little.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“It was an unstable compound,” he said.
+“There was an atomic change, you see. The
+Path does that. Your atomic structure shifts
+to something quite different. When you’re
+like that you can talk with your mind, without
+words.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I know,” the Belgian said. “I do not talk
+much any more. It is never the same, after
+that.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Will it ever.&nbsp;.&nbsp;. ?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Van Hornung said quietly, “We were like
+gods for a little while. We ate the food of the
+gods. Can we expect mortal food to please us
+after that?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller nodded in silence. To go back to
+his old world, to live his old life would be
+meaningless now—like going back to blindness
+after knowing sight in a brighter world
+than this. He had had a taste of this once, in
+Orelle’s castle, while they searched him with
+piercing electronic eyes for the weapon he
+did not know he carried. That had been an
+illusion and a foretaste of this death-in-life
+which he must live now until he died—as the
+Belgian had been living.</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He remembered how the mountain-top
+world had begun to fade around
+him, Orelle’s pitying face growing ghostlike,
+the glass walls of her castle turning to mist
+and the wonderful nameless colors of her
+gardens thinning away to nothingness while
+the snow-covered peaks took shape solidly
+behind them.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>There had been a little time longer, after
+Brann’s defeat, for him to enjoy the last days
+of Paradise. He had refused to believe it
+could end at all. He had shut his mind to the
+instability of his change, to the fact that he
+had been himself an isotope created by a
+temporary radioactive atomic shift so that,
+when the quantum energy was released, the
+atomic pattern must revert to its former
+state. And in one terrible, fading instant the
+familiar prison of his own senses closed
+around him once more as the lovely world
+of Peak Seven Hundred went volatile and
+vanished.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The last thing to go was the little cube
+Llesi had made for him with the singing halo
+of the Power turning in miniature within it.
+When the waste of glacial ice was all that
+remained of the invisible castle he went slowly
+down the mountain again, walking, he
+knew, through fields of glowing flowers he
+could never see again. And now it was the
+ice and snow that seemed illusion—the vanished
+summer world the only real thing in
+life.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He kept taking the cube out and looking
+at it as he descended the lower slopes. After
+awhile it seemed dimmer than he remembered,
+the singing fainter. When he reached
+the valley the glow was gone entirely. The
+cube was non-radioactive lead, inert and
+useless. Fairy gold, the legends said, was
+glittering in your hands when the immortals
+put it there—but when you looked again it
+had always turned to leaves and pebbles.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Van Hornung said, “What will you do
+now?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller shrugged. “Is anything worth doing?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Not for me, any longer. After you have
+seen the colors and used your mind to its
+fullest, there is nothing worth the effort of
+doing in this world below. Stay with me if
+you like. It does not matter.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Behind Miller the door opened quietly.
+Slade walked into the room. When he saw
+Miller his jaw dropped slightly.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“<span class='it'>Miller!</span> What’s the matter with you?
+When did you get in?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Just now.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Did you get it?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“Get what?” Miller said dully.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“The energy-source!” Slade thrust his face
+down to Miller’s, the feral eyes narrowing,
+the thin lips tight. Seeing him, Miller
+thought suddenly of Brann. The same irresponsible
+power, dangerous, hungry, admitting
+no discipline but its own desires.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He was glad, in a casual way, that Slade
+could never use the Power. Slade could do
+harm enough, had done more than harm
+enough, with only his own driving unscrupulous
+brain to guide him. Once armed with a
+thing like the Power.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I left it where I found it,” Miller said indifferently.
+“Up on the Peak.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“How can we get it?” Slade demanded
+urgently. “An expedition?”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“You can have it for the asking—up there.”
+A slow idea took shape in Miller’s mind.
+Sardonically he said, “Look for the red path
+at the foot of the cliff. Follow it. Go on up
+and you’ll have no trouble finding your energy-source.
+That’s all I’m going to say.
+We’re through, Slade. Get out.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>And he would say no more though it was
+ten minutes before Slade exhausted his
+threats and arguments and left. Miller
+smiled wryly at the Belgian.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“He’ll go. You couldn’t keep him away.
+And you know what will happen.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“What happened to us. But—why did you
+send him?”</p>
+
+<hr class='tbk'/>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller stared out the window at the
+snowy cone of Peak Seven Hundred,
+white and empty against the sky.</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>“I hated Slade once,” he said. “That
+doesn’t matter how. But where men like
+Slade go there’s cruelty and misery and suffering.
+I can at least spare a few other men
+what I’ve gone through from him. He’ll come
+back—as we are. As for the Power—yes,
+it’s fairy gold.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>The Belgian said softly, “.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.’amid such
+greater glories that we are worse than
+blind.’ ”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>Miller nodded. “The Power and the Glory.
+Some day our race may achieve it. But it has
+to be earned.”</p>
+
+<p class='pindent'>He reached for the bottle.</p>
+
+
+
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