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+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77510 ***
+
+
+
+
+The Assistant Self
+
+by F. L. Wallace
+
+
+  _Sympathy for others may be one of the seven cardinal virtues. But
+  man does not live by virtue alone, and a superabundance of any one
+  attribute--however admirable in itself--can lead to stark tragedy.
+  To appreciate fully the breadth of that tragedy you must follow in
+  the footsteps of F. L. Wallace as he scatters golden nuggets of
+  science fantasy entertainment along the frontiers of tomorrow with a
+  prodigality undreamed of by lesser scribes. Here is a yarn that takes
+  you straight into realms of abiding mystery and surmise_.
+
+
+  =It was a world of Utopian dreams and industrial strife--buffeted by
+  the winds of human unreason. But Hal Talbot was a man apart.=
+
+
+
+
+“You always see the other person’s side,” said Laura. “Even the boss’s,
+especially when he fires you.”
+
+She swept the compact into her purse and stood up. “Now see if you can
+understand _my_ point of view.” With a withering contempt in her eyes
+she swung the purse to her shoulder and walked rapidly away.
+
+Hal Talbot stared morosely at his drink. The worst of it was--he knew
+exactly how she felt. In spite of what everyone professed to believe
+empathy was a dreadful handicap. He had more than his share of it, and
+he couldn’t even hold down a simple lousy job.
+
+He raised the glass and saw through it a man--a total
+stranger--standing beside the booth in amused expectation. _The hell
+with him_, Talbot thought. He drank the beer and set the glass down.
+
+“Do you mind if I sit here?” the stranger asked.
+
+Talbot looked him over carefully. He was well-dressed--too
+well-dressed--and he conformed in virtually every other respect to the
+popular conception of the executive, suave and so completely sure of
+himself. Therefore--he probably wasn’t.
+
+“Suit yourself,” grunted Talbot.
+
+The man sat down and ordered for both of them. It was all right with
+Talbot. He _could_ have paid for the drinks, but he was keenly aware
+that his dwindling resources wouldn’t last long.
+
+“I couldn’t help overhearing the conversation,” said the man.
+
+“We have all our fights in public,” said Talbot, with embittered irony.
+“It makes things more final.”
+
+The stranger stared at him steadily for an instant, his brows
+contracted. Then he asked: “Are you sure this is final?”
+
+“You heard what she said. I can’t hold a job.”
+
+“That’s precisely what I mean. You seem capable enough. I’m curious as
+to the reason.”
+
+Talbot looked at the other more intently. He was a man of much the same
+general build as Talbot, but he appeared to be five or six years older.
+
+“I mean no offense,” said the man. He fumbled in his pocket and held
+out a card.
+
+Talbot took it. There was a single word in bold black letters on one
+side: TRANSPORTATION. The crosses on the T’s were spaceships. On the
+other side was a name: EVAN SOLERI, _vice-president in charge of
+research_. Talbot curled his fingers around the card.
+
+The man smiled. “Just call me Evan.”
+
+“All right, Evan. You’re going to offer me a job.” Talbot settled back
+comfortably. Things were falling into the routine pattern again.
+
+“Perhaps. But first--do you mind telling me why you keep getting fired?”
+
+“I don’t mind,” said Talbot. He was used to impertinent and stupid
+questions. He was used to getting jobs in odd places and to the ups and
+downs that always seemed to straighten themselves out eventually. Some
+day perhaps he’d find himself in a situation from which all his empathy
+couldn’t rescue him. But he’d worry about that when it came.
+
+“You want to know why I get fired?” he asked, drawing the beer to him,
+and scowling across it. “Well, I’ll tell you. I meet someone like you.
+We talk, and are friendly. First thing you know he is offering me a
+job. I take it. In the beginning everything’s fine. I have a knack of
+knowing exactly what he wants. I get a raise practically overnight.
+
+“Then one day _his_ boss comes in and wants something in a hurry. So he
+talks to me very earnestly about it. Before anyone realizes what has
+taken place his boss is depending on me instead of on him. So what can
+he do? He finds some pretext and fires me.”
+
+Evan Soleri nodded. “And you don’t object?”
+
+“I get mad, naturally,” said Talbot. “But what else _could_ he do?
+He’s worked hard for the job and I come along and threaten to take it
+away. The point is--I’ve got no special qualification.”
+
+“Except empathy.”
+
+“Except that,” agreed Talbot. He took a long drink and set the glass
+down. “It’s funny. I get along well with people but my adjustment index
+isn’t so good.”
+
+“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Soleri. “Do you mind showing me
+your employment card?”
+
+“Sure--step number one,” said Talbot. “When do I start?” He handed over
+the card, and waved to the waiter for refills in the same motion.
+
+Soleri frowned at the card. “I notice you haven’t been tested in seven
+years. Why haven’t you gone back for re-evaluation?”
+
+“It costs money,” Talbot replied. “Anyway, aptitudes don’t change much
+after twenty-four.”
+
+“That’s usually true,” said Soleri, returning the card.
+
+“When do I start?” said Talbot. “To save trouble shall I have them make
+out the termination notice at the same time? They can safely date it
+two months in advance. I usually last that long.”
+
+“You may be surprised.” Soleri smiled. “I’ve a feeling you can work
+well at the top. You’ve been starting too low.”
+
+Talbot studied the executive. Curiously enough, he had the same
+feeling--if he ever got to the top. It was hard to do on ability alone.
+He never lasted long enough for anyone to find out how good he was.
+“What sort of work am I supposed to do?” he asked.
+
+“Interested?” said Soleri. “Have you heard of the perfect rocket motor?”
+
+“I’ve heard of it. Everybody has.” Talbot disposed of the beer. “It’s
+out of my line, though. I’m strictly business administration.”
+
+“Don’t prejudge what I have in mind,” said Soleri. “Have you also heard
+of Fred Frescura?”
+
+“The heat scientist?”
+
+“That’s right. The _foremost_ heat and rocket scientist.” Soleri moved
+the glass aside. “As you know, present rockets are pretty poor. They
+take us around the solar system, but that’s all. And they don’t do that
+very well. Anyway, there’s mathematical proof that the theoretically
+perfect rocket motor can be built. We’ve been working on it for the
+past six years.”
+
+“Why come to me?” said Talbot. “I can’t help.”
+
+“Don’t be so sure. We want your empathy.”
+
+“You can have it,” said Talbot. “Look. One point five on the card,
+maybe actually one point four by now. It levels off. You know the
+standard curve as well as I do.”
+
+“The standard curve doesn’t always fit. That’s what I want to discuss.”
+
+Talbot might have stayed to talk it over, but he caught a strong surge
+of panic from the executive. Panic or trouble--or both. He didn’t want
+either. He had quite enough of his own. It wasn’t every day he lost
+his job and his girl walked out on him.
+
+“I don’t feel in the mood for hashing this over,” he affirmed. “You’re
+expecting a woman anyway.”
+
+Soleri smiled quizzically. “See? I told you that you’re underestimating
+the strength of your empathy.”
+
+“Nothing to it. You were looking at every pair of legs that came by.”
+
+“I don’t think it was that easy. Why don’t you wait? Randy will be here
+any minute.”
+
+Talbot shook his head. “There’s no telling what Laura will do when she
+wanders out like this. She won’t go home, that’s for sure.”
+
+“I wish you’d reconsider.”
+
+“You can’t get a test tonight,” argued Talbot. “And a test is the only
+thing that will give us real information. I know what you’re going to
+suggest--that I come in tomorrow morning. Fine. So I’ll do it--tomorrow
+morning.”
+
+Again Soleri smiled. “I said that you were my man. Now I’m sure of it.
+Will you come in early, at seven thirty, say?”
+
+Talbot could feel the other’s panic diminish. Maybe he was even better
+than he thought--if he could produce that effect just by agreeing.
+“Seven thirty is pretty early,” he said.
+
+“There’s a reason for it,” Soleri assured him.
+
+“I bet.”
+
+Soleri took out a card and scribbled some careful directions on it.
+“Here,” he said. “Come in this way. Just walk right in. There won’t be
+anyone there at that hour of the morning except me.”
+
+“Sure.” Talbot stuffed the card in his pocket and wandered over to the
+screen booth. He had trouble getting the connection, but when he did
+her father answered.
+
+He had been correct in his assumption. He came out of the booth and
+stood for an instant at the bar, gulping down a drink. His head
+turned to follow the progress of a woman who had just entered the
+cafe. She had deep brown eyes and blonde hair, and a great deal more.
+That helped. She was not only pretty--she was spectacular. He liked
+spectacular women.
+
+She went on by, and stopped at the booth occupied by Soleri. Quite
+obviously she was Randy. For a moment he regretted his decision to
+go in search of Laura. But only for a moment. Common sense told him
+he wouldn’t have a chance of taking a woman like that away from a
+vice-president of TRANSPORTATION. The company just happened to be the
+largest in existence.
+
+Still, it felt good to have a man of Soleri’s importance seek him
+out. He rolled the thought around in his mind. It was unquestionably
+true. Soleri had come looking for him. He knew it the way he knew so
+many things--without thinking, by feeling alone, by the ability to put
+himself in another’s place.
+
+By the time the thought had come full circle in his mind Randy and
+Soleri were gone. It was Laura now--or nothing.
+
+He went in search of her. She was not in any of the bars she usually
+frequented. She was nowhere. There could be no doubt that she was mad
+at him this time, and would be for weeks--even when she learned what he
+had coming up. She wanted to get married and was furious with him for
+daring to put her off.
+
+It took him quite a while to become absolutely convinced he wasn’t
+going to find her on what remained of his time, money, and drinking
+capacity. He started home and Laura slipped out of his mind.
+
+It certainly wasn’t accidental--his meeting with Soleri. Soleri had
+been looking for him. But why? How had he known where to look? Talbot
+couldn’t concentrate solidly on the problem. It was all he could do to
+figure out where the street was going to sway to next.
+
+One thing was certain. He’d have a lot of questions to ask Soleri in
+the morning.
+
+
+
+
+                                   II
+
+
+Talbot dressed numbly. It was early, damned early, and his head
+throbbed. Aside from the physical discomfort involved he didn’t mind a
+hangover. He was more sensitive when he hung one on.
+
+He was going to need that sensitivity when he talked to Soleri.
+
+The man had a pretty phenomenal empathy index himself--say about 0.95.
+The more he thought about it the more certain he became that it must
+be at least 0.95. The executive had displayed uncanny acumen the night
+before.
+
+Talbot swung a rack out of the closet and automatically selected
+a light conservative suit. Soleri would expect him to dress
+conservatively. He didn’t care what Soleri thought, but it was a matter
+of pride with him to fit neatly into any situation.
+
+He dialed a cup of coffee, and then on second thought changed it to two
+cups, and gulped both of them. He studied his reflection in the mirror.
+It would do. He was the perfect picture of the successful executive.
+All he lacked was success.
+
+He resisted the impulse to phone Laura. He was convinced she wouldn’t
+answer at seven in the morning. Probably she wouldn’t answer later in
+the day. Maybe in a week he’d call her _after_ he got the job with
+TRANSPORTATION.
+
+He went down and hailed an aircab which took him to the far side
+of the city. He alighted and read for the third or fourth time the
+instructions Soleri had written on the card. He located the entrance
+without difficulty and went in. Normally, he supposed, there would be a
+receptionist in the lobby. He didn’t see one. It was not important, for
+Soleri had cleared the way for him.
+
+He ascended three flights of stairs, walked around a turn at the
+corridor, and there he was--in front of Soleri’s office. It would be
+just his luck to find that he had arrived too early. But there was
+definitely someone in the office. He conquered his trepidation and went
+in.
+
+Soleri smiled and came toward him from behind the desk. His hand was
+extended and he was laughing. It was friendly laughter, and Talbot
+could sense the friendliness. But he was unemployed, and for that
+reason he resented it.
+
+“My God,” said Soleri. “If we looked anything alike we’d be twins.”
+
+Talbot stared intently, reviewing and adding to his original
+impressions of the other. They were within an inch and a pound of each
+other. Moreover they now wore identical suits and identical shoes and
+if there was a difference in their ties and shirts, it would have taken
+an expert to detect it. Talk about empathy! Soleri really had it.
+
+But actually they didn’t resemble each other at all. Soleri’s hair was
+black, and Talbot’s was brown. Soleri’s eyes were dark, Talbot’s gray.
+Viewed from the back with a hat on they were indistinguishable. But
+face to face no one could have mistaken one for the other.
+
+“It’s an impressive trick,” Soleri chuckled. “If you’re trying to
+convince me you’re good--relax. I believe it.”
+
+“I’m not trying to convince you of anything,” said Talbot.
+
+Soleri looked at him keenly. “You probably aren’t,” he said. “It ties
+in.”
+
+Talbot blinked. “Are you saying it’s _my_ empathy? One point four or
+five isn’t _that_ good. Your own index must be zero point ninety-five.”
+
+“How did you know?” said Soleri. “I never told you.”
+
+“Why--” began Talbot, and stopped. How _had_, he known? It was one
+thing to think you knew, quite another to be always right. Something
+was startlingly out of place.
+
+Empathy measurements started in adolescence. Before then the body was
+in a state of flux. It was still building, exploring. It did not have
+the experience on which to base valid opinions.
+
+The adolescent was primarily aware of himself. He scarcely knew why
+he thought and felt the way he did, and had no time to encompass the
+emotions of others. But as he matured and some of his own problems
+became settled, an increasing awareness grew in him. He became better
+able to anticipate and participate in the feelings of others. Not
+merely to react to them, but to feel them as if they were his own.
+
+After adolescence the ability to identify with others continued to
+increase--rapidly at first, and then more slowly. Plotted out as age
+against understanding, the curve resembled an hyperbola reaching for
+the asymptote.
+
+Soleri smiled. “I see you’ve figured it out for yourself. We don’t
+think you’re usual either. A test will decide the matter.”
+
+“The test can come later. Who’s ‘we’?”
+
+“Myself and Randy, my secretary.”
+
+Inwardly Talbot sighed. He could hardly blame the guy. With a secretary
+like that he couldn’t picture himself spending much time in an office
+either. Evidently Soleri and Randy didn’t. No doubt Soleri would claim
+that last night’s meeting had come under the heading of business as
+usual.
+
+“Another thing,” he said. “How did you know I’d be at that bar?”
+
+Soleri shook his head in humorous resignation. “You don’t let much get
+by you. To be wholly frank, that’s why we want you. Well, if you must
+know, we called your apartment several times in the last few days. You
+were never home. So we put plant protection on you. It’s outside their
+normal jurisdiction, but they learned your habits quickly enough.”
+
+“I don’t like to be snooped at,” protested Talbot. “I don’t even know
+how you got my name.”
+
+“That one’s easy,” said Soleri. “Several years ago you filed an
+application with us. I looked it over recently. I’m a mathematician--an
+amateur but fairly good. I decided that if you’d put down the various
+empathy measurements correctly you might be better than you thought.
+Over a short portion of the curve, you know, a cubic or another
+equation can resemble an hyperbola. After Randy gets here we’ll see.”
+
+Talbot nodded. He could accept that. It helped to explain why he’d had
+so much trouble. People resented his competition. The thought gave him
+confidence, and he reached out easily for the next conclusion.
+
+“But you’re not being altruistic about this,” he said. “I may have an
+index of zero point nine, better than yours, way at the top of the
+executive class. But for all you know I may have no knowledge, no
+subject matter in my head.” He paused to formulate the thought clearly.
+“You want me for something else. Specifically you’re in trouble.”
+
+“We may not need that test. But we’ll take it anyway,” said Soleri.
+“Yes, it’s trouble. Do you want to see if you can tell me what it is?”
+
+Talbot didn’t so much think as contact Soleri’s personality. He knew
+that atomic energy was advanced and with it almost any degree of
+temperature could be attained. And the hotter the exhaust, every other
+factor being equal, the faster the rocket. He allowed the thought to
+float closer.
+
+“The technical problem is liners,” he said. “You’ve got to have
+something that won’t be melted or eroded by the exhaust.”
+
+“True,” said Soleri. “Metal or ceramics won’t do--not at the
+temperatures we’re working with. We have made certain mathematical
+investigations which indicate there _is_ a solution. Metal plus
+certain energy states might turn the trick.
+
+“We can discuss techniques later. It’s sufficient for now that we’ve
+narrowed it down to a matter of trial and error. The rest should be
+easy enough: a million or so experiments and we’ll have it. We’ve hired
+the best brains in the field, and you can be sure we haven’t spared
+time or money. Only we aren’t making progress. The perfect rocket motor
+should drive us at--or near--the speed of light. We’re nowhere near
+that.”
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Talbot leaned on the desk. “Competition?” he asked thoughtfully.
+
+Soleri smiled painfully. “Perhaps. We’re big, but we’re not the only
+company after the motor. The difficulty arises from the fact that
+there’s nothing definite we can point to as wrong. If there was, plant
+protection would find the person or persons responsible and put an end
+to the obstruction in short order. What happens is simply this. Costly
+experiments have one insignificant detail wrong, and blow up or fail to
+function at all. Elaborate computations have one decimal point moved
+and it takes a month to locate the impediment. Who’s behind it? What
+official or worker is out to sabotage us? That’s what we’re trying to
+discover.”
+
+“Did it ever occur to you that the perfect rocket motor may be an
+illusion? Perhaps it can’t be built.”
+
+“We have Frescura to say otherwise. Rocket construction is his life’s
+work. Other experts in the field agree with him--though they are not
+always able to follow his theoretical explanations.”
+
+“I won’t argue with them,” said Talbot. He glanced uneasily at the door
+of the office. A breeze was blowing it open slightly. “I see now why
+you wanted me to come so early. It was to make sure I wouldn’t be seen?”
+
+“Right,” Soleri said. “I wanted to explain the situation and have you
+leave before the regular shift gets here. I’ll make arrangements for
+the test to be given outside the plant. When you come back you’ll
+be hired through regular channels. That way there’ll be no apparent
+connection with me. You’ll simply be given a position in the shop. It
+will be high enough to enable you to meet everyone, but it won’t be so
+top-level that you’ll be prevented from mingling freely.”
+
+“I’m not sure I’m interested,” said Talbot. “If I’m as good as you
+think I am--why should I take a job like that?”
+
+“It’s temporary, don’t you see? With your degree of empathy you can
+track down the trouble without arousing suspicion. After that we’ll
+put you where you belong. And your salary will be scaled to your test
+rating from the beginning, regardless of your workshop status. How does
+that sound to you?”
+
+“Forthright,” said Talbot. “And quite generous.” He didn’t like to
+snoop any better than he liked being snooped at. But he’d listen.
+
+“Randy’s due any moment,” said Soleri. “Let’s see that employment card
+again.”
+
+Talbot reached for his wallet. The container the card was in didn’t
+detach easily. He opened it, and handed the wallet to Soleri.
+
+Soleri examined the card with interest. He made a rough sketch of it
+on paper, plotting the points of the series of tests and joining them
+with a free-hand curve. He was so intent on the task that he failed to
+notice that the office door had opened the width of a man’s hand.
+
+Talbot wouldn’t have noticed either, had he not turned at that precise
+instant to get a better view of the sketch and seen the hand in the
+crack. The hand threw a small dark object on the floor, then whipped
+back quickly. The door closed.
+
+Talbot’s reactions were good but not good enough. He jogged Soleri’s
+elbow. “What’s that?” he said uneasily, indicating the object.
+
+It was round and dark, hard to distinguish on the floor. It took Soleri
+a second to see it--a second too long. “Get down,” he shouted, shoving
+Talbot behind the desk.
+
+The action threw Soleri offbalance and he fell the wrong way. He
+scrambled frantically for the protection of the desk but only his hand
+with the wallet still in it reached the merciful shadow.
+
+A chaotic sound echoed somewhere near Talbot. He’d never heard
+anything like it. He didn’t have time to wonder where it came from
+because it was followed by another louder sound.
+
+Instinctively he closed his eyes as an incandescent sheet of flame
+whipped across the room. It was accompanied by a vast thermal
+concussion which blotted out all sound. Take a tiny piece of the
+interior of the Sun--not the center, but somewhere between that and
+the visible outer portion--and wrap it with unimaginable insulation.
+Transport it to an office and strip away the covering in a microsecond.
+Within a limited area the explosion was even more frightful than that.
+
+At first the desk shielded Talbot. In the intolerable light paint
+and pictures were burned from the wall. Chairs disappeared and the
+fireproof floor bubbled and vaporized. By the time the thick steel and
+thermoplastic desk collapsed in ashes around Talbot’s body the tiny
+speck of matter had dissipated most of its energy and there was only
+fire to fear.
+
+Clouds of steam came from the ceiling as the sprinkler system went into
+action. It didn’t function well because most of it had been melted away
+in the first blast. Nevertheless water gushed out and turned to steam.
+
+Talbot struggled to get out. But he was badly burned. Steam and smoke
+were searing his lungs, and a section of the ceiling had peeled off and
+fallen on his legs, pinning him to the floor. He saw a hand, all that
+was left of Soleri, clutching the wallet. And then he couldn’t breathe,
+couldn’t see or feel anything at all.
+
+
+
+
+                                  III
+
+
+A dim, slender figure swirled dizzily in front of him. He hoped she
+was a nurse, but he could only see the flowing whiteness of her as she
+moved to the door. “You can come in, Miss Farrell,” she said.
+
+Miss Farrell came in. She was better known to Talbot as Randy, and
+close up she was even more breathtaking than when he had first seen
+her. His vision was steadying a little now.
+
+“Just a few minutes--not longer,” the nurse cautioned.
+
+Randy sat down beside him, touching his face lightly. He could feel
+the gentle pressure of her fingers through the bandages. “Don’t try to
+talk,” she said. “I’ll say everything that has to be said. And it won’t
+take long.”
+
+He blinked in grateful understanding. It wasn’t a wholly satisfactory
+form of communication, but her nearness soothed him.
+
+“We haven’t found out how that thermal capsule got there,” she said.
+“We know it was hot, however. It had a temperature of at least a half
+million degrees, despite its extreme smallness. After you get well
+enough to talk freely we’ll try to reconstruct what happened.”
+
+He nodded slightly, and the effort sent a wave of pain coursing through
+him.
+
+“So much for that,” she said. “You’ll get well. There won’t even be
+scars. You’re lucky. Did you know it?”
+
+He knew it. But he knew also that it wasn’t _only_ luck. Soleri had
+saved his life at the expense of his own.
+
+Then she said an incredible thing. “All we found of the other poor
+devil was his lower arm. The card was still clutched in his hand. It
+was scorched but not burned. I gave it to one of our mathematicians and
+he has worked out two curves that might fit. The man was everything you
+said he was--and more. I wish he’d lived.”
+
+Talbot closed his eyes in stunned protest. She was making a mistake, a
+crazy utterly incomprehensible mistake. He tried to tell her--but there
+was only a gurgle in his throat.
+
+“Don’t bat your eyes at me,” she said in mock reproof. “It’s true. The
+lowest empathy index registered is zero point eight. Right? Well, this
+man was zero point five. The mathematician couldn’t be sure, but he
+_thought_ it might be even lower.”
+
+She brushed the hair away from her lovely eyes. “Perhaps I should have
+kept it to myself. No one could possibly have the index the curve
+indicated. There are limits to human credulity.”
+
+Again he tried to tell her that it was Soleri who had died. Soleri!
+But the bandages were too tight and his weakness too overwhelming.
+
+But how could she have made such a mistake? True, he’d been wearing
+the same clothing as Soleri and the dead man had been clutching his
+employment card. But a woman who had been close to Soleri, who had seen
+him every day, would surely know--
+
+She leaned over, brushing her lips against his eyes. “Don’t worry,” she
+said. “I disposed of the remains--and put him on the payroll. Roving
+assignment, reporting only to you. After six months we can arrange to
+make it appear that he was killed in an accident.”
+
+His eyes! She’d known Soleri well enough to remember that the dead
+man’s eyes were dark, not gray. Women were never in error about things
+like that. He blinked frantically, but she failed to draw the correct
+conclusion.
+
+“Why six months?” she smiled. “Because I have the company’s interest
+at heart. Otherwise we’d have to pay the full death benefit. If he’s
+on the payroll after six months the insurance company must assume the
+responsibility. His salary will be much less than the death benefit.
+He’s dead. Nothing we can do will bring him back. We may as well save
+some money.”
+
+The logic was acceptable, but she had the wrong man. He groaned in
+frustration and the sound escaped as a muffled protest from his
+tortured and burned throat.
+
+Instantly the nurse reappeared.
+
+“That’s all, Miss Farrell. He’ll rest better for knowing what happened.
+But I think you’ve told him enough.”
+
+Randy bent over. “Everything’s all right,” she whispered. “Get well.”
+
+And then the nurse found an unbandaged region on his right shoulder and
+jabbed him. He ceased to feel or hear anything.
+
+It was that way for the next few days, a dim and shadowy routine which
+he was vaguely and occasionally aware of. From time to time he felt
+stronger but the nurse had a needle ready and always used it. They
+intended to make certain that he did not prematurely exert himself.
+
+Finally a day came when the nurse wasn’t there. It had apparently been
+decided that he was ready to rejoin the living. He lay motionless on
+the bed, staring down at his folded arms. His right hand was bandaged;
+his left was not. He raised both hands to his face. The bandages were
+fewer, lighter than before.
+
+Sooner or later, he told himself, the bandages would have to come
+off. Then what? Then the truth would be known to everyone. Still, he
+wasn’t in an enviable position. He had gone at such an early hour to
+Soleri’s office that no one had seen him. He had only Soleri’s word as
+to his honesty of purpose--and Soleri was dead. Randy had made things
+worse with her silly attempt to hush things up. He was in a serious
+mess--and had no way of knowing what was going to come out of it.
+
+He got up shakily. He had made up his mind. He must leave the hospital.
+He knew it was foolish, but that didn’t stop him. He swung his legs
+over the side of the bed and found to his relief that he could stand.
+He teetered precariously for an instant and then stood upright.
+
+There was a closet on the opposite side of the room. He wobbled toward
+it, wrenched the door open. It contained a robe but no clothes. As he
+braced himself in the doorway he caught sight of his face in the mirror
+on the back of the door. His brow was gleaming with perspiration and
+his eyes glittered darkly in the expanse of white. The bandages would
+have to come off.
+
+It was painful but not as bad as he had thought it might be. He found
+an edge and pried at the masklike plaster. The bandages came off in one
+piece. His raw skin burned as air came in contact with it. It stung and
+burned, but he scarcely noticed the pain.
+
+He stared at his reflection.
+
+Now he knew what Randy had refused to tell him because she didn’t
+believe it herself. The empathy index of the man she supposed dead was
+not zero point five. It was much less than that.
+
+It was zero.
+
+And zero was identity.
+
+The face looking back at him was not that of Hal Talbot. It was Evan
+Soleri. It was Evan Soleri even to the dark eyes and the stubble of
+black hair that was beginning to grow in on his burned scalp.
+
+Talbot or Soleri, he went back to bed.
+
+He lay very still. His mind raced back, to the scene in the office. He
+had _thought_ there were two sounds, the strange one slightly before
+the thermal explosion. But the first had not been a sound at all. He
+knew that now. It was Evan Soleri’s mental reaction to the approach
+of death. No one else could have heard it--no one except a man whose
+empathy index was zero. It was the crisis that had brought out his
+latent ability. He had responded by recreating himself as the identity
+of a person a microsecond removed from extinction.
+
+He had done this successfully--but what came next?
+
+He had been thinking of escape. It was no longer possible. As far as
+his immediate future was concerned he _was_ Evan Soleri. He might be
+able to prove otherwise. But it could be a dangerous undertaking. They
+might think he’d had his face surgically altered with the deliberate,
+prior intention of replacing Soleri.
+
+Besides--well, he had liked Soleri. Without a second’s thought Soleri
+had given his life for a man he hardly knew. Quite possibly the person
+who had tossed in the thermal bomb had meant to kill Talbot. But he
+owed the unknown assassin something for that too.
+
+His face hardened. In his new identity as Soleri he was in the
+best possible position to track down the assailant. Soleri had been
+powerful, wealthy, the head of the research department. The place to
+begin was right here, where it had started. He’d be Soleri.
+
+Talbot-Soleri rang for the nurse. He’d been inactive long enough. He
+had no very definite plans, but he’d take care of things as they came
+up. The nurse came in. She stared at him in consternation.
+
+“You are not supposed to sit up,” she said. “And you must have been mad
+to take those bandages off. Here, I’ll put them back.”
+
+He scowled at her, and she didn’t come near. “Get Miss Farrell,” he
+said. “Tell her I must see her at once.”
+
+“The doctor gave strict orders that you’re not to be disturbed,” said
+the nurse hesitantly. She paled as he returned her stare, for there was
+a dangerous light in his eyes.
+
+“Get her,” he demanded.
+
+When Randy entered the room there was a moment of complete silence. She
+seemed stunned by his aspect of well-being.
+
+“The miracle of medicine,” he said dryly. “Randy, I want to look over
+the personnel records of everyone in the department. Please get them
+and bring them to me here.”
+
+“Everything?” She looked at him in amazement. “You went over the
+technical staff last week.”
+
+“It doesn’t matter,” he told her. “I’ve got some ideas I want to tie
+down.” That was true, of course, but mostly he wanted to make sure he
+wouldn’t slip up on anyone he was supposed to recognize. He’d get by
+anyway, naturally. He could always claim a slight loss of memory due to
+shock. But such a claim wouldn’t inspire confidence--and he didn’t want
+anyone to become suspicious.
+
+“While you’re at it bring the office staff too,” he added. There was
+one person he’d have to know as much about as possible. Much of it
+wouldn’t be in any file. But he’d worry about the intangibles later.
+
+Randy plainly thought his request was foolish, but she complied. Soon
+files were wheeled to his bedside. That was the nice thing about being
+a big wheel in a big company, and no pun intended. Everything was
+handy. Even the hospital was inside the plant.
+
+But there were also disadvantages. The company was so big that
+there was a lot to learn. Still, he had to begin somewhere. Randy
+undoubtedly thought some of his requests were strange, but she brought
+what he asked for. Though not eidetic, his memory was good. He began
+industriously to absorb the information. Names, faces, facts and
+diagrams settled firmly in his mind.
+
+It was a lengthy, painful process. Sometimes he became confused as to
+his actual identity. Was he Talbot or Soleri? The thought occurred to
+him that he might never be able to step out of the character he had
+consciously as well as unconsciously assumed.
+
+There was no data on what might happen to him. None at all.
+
+
+
+
+                                   IV
+
+
+On the day of his discharge his skin was still tender but the burns had
+healed. He felt weak but that was not surprising in view of the number
+of days he had spent in bed. The department managed without him and
+when difficulties developed he relayed brief orders through Randy. She
+was his buffer. He didn’t want to take part in running the plant until
+he had more insight on Soleri.
+
+He learned many things, but there were technicalities to be mastered
+which he was sure he could pick up faster on the outside. The doctor
+wanted to send a nurse with him but he refused, finally consenting to
+have Randy accompany him. Perhaps he was taking a needless risk. But he
+was convinced he could handle Randy.
+
+It was dark when they left the factory hospital, and took the
+elevator to the roof. He leaned on Randy somewhat more than he had
+to. It was a pleasure and a distraction. But he remained on his guard
+notwithstanding.
+
+Randy was not a secretary at all. The files had revealed that much.
+Soleri had been so anxious to find out what was holding up the project
+that he had hired a first-rate psychologist and had put her in a
+position where she could work without being suspected. The psychologist
+was Randy. She wouldn’t fool easy. And that, in a sense, was a
+challenge. If he could get by her he could convince anyone.
+
+An aircab was waiting. He leaned very close to her as she helped him
+in. He was almost sure that his empathy should tell him something and
+it did. Her eyes darkened, and she became obviously disturbed by his
+nearness. He settled back in the cab and waited.
+
+The driver turned about, and asked: “Where to?”
+
+He pretended not to hear. The driver repeated the question and Randy
+gave him the address. The information itself didn’t tell him much but
+his sensitivity filled in the missing details. She had been to the
+apartment many times, and stayed late.
+
+They didn’t talk much on the way. The cab flitted over the city
+lights with a steady droning. He became uneasy. She too was sensing a
+strangeness in him. He regretted his decision to have her accompany
+him, and resolved to send her home as soon as he could reasonably do so.
+
+They landed on the roof of a tall apartment building. She paid the
+driver and told him not to wait. No chance for subtlety there.
+
+“I’m quite all right,” he said as she helped him out. “It was just a
+momentary touch of dizziness.”
+
+“I know,” she said. “But you’re not going to get away. I intend to
+make sure you’re all right.” And that was that.
+
+Soleri’s apartment was on the twentieth floor. It was elaborate and
+large, and furnished with exquisite taste. He approved of Soleri’s
+taste--in more than one respect. He sat down and looked it over.
+
+“Glad to be back?” she asked.
+
+He nodded.
+
+“Sit and rest. I’ll punch dinner. Anything special?”
+
+“Nothing special. Whatever you want.” She touched his arm as she went
+into the kitchen. He wished she hadn’t. He had enough to contend with
+without that.
+
+Presently she came back. “We’ll have something light and nourishing in
+a few minutes,” she said.
+
+She went to the recording system and began examining the calls that had
+come in during Soleri’s absence. He had to remind himself that it was
+an absence. Officially Soleri hadn’t died.
+
+He watched her intently. He wished her eyes weren’t brown and wonderful.
+
+“Anything important?” he said with an effort.
+
+“A message from Andrew Taft. I told him you were hurt but not badly. He
+wants you to visit him next week.”
+
+Andrew Taft was president of TRANSPORTATION. Everyone knew that.
+But there wasn’t anything in the files to give him a lead as to the
+duration or extent of their friendship. Perhaps Soleri had known Taft
+from boyhood. He didn’t want to put his newly acquired personality to
+such a severe test before he could be more certain of the facts.
+
+“Make an excuse for me,” he said.
+
+She looked at him inquiringly. “Do you think you should? Eleanor will
+be there. She heard about the accident and is coming in from Mars.”
+
+He might have known there would be some such complication. Soleri was a
+powerful and attractive man and there had been more than one woman in
+his life. It was another unexpected pitfall, a further challenge to his
+wariness. He grimaced. “Eleanor’s a nice girl but she means nothing to
+me,” he said.
+
+“Oh?” Randy’s lips tightened. “Is that why you’re going to marry her?”
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+At the moment he hated Soleri, empathy or not. If it had been at all
+possible he would have dropped the pretense. But he couldn’t--and he
+had to depend solely on his abnormal sensitivity. He told Randy what
+she _wanted_ to hear.
+
+“You know how it is,” he said blandly. “I’ve got to get that motor
+built. It’s costing far more than we expected. Somebody’s got to play
+company politics.”
+
+She seemed a trifle mollified. “You needn’t tell me. I’ve had a
+thorough grounding in business psychology.” She moved quickly past him.
+“Dinner’s ready,” she said. “You’ve got to build up your strength--for
+company politics.”
+
+He would have preferred silence but Randy insisted on holding up both
+ends of the conversation. Nothing important was discussed, but it gave
+him a chance to break down her defenses, and get to know her better.
+
+After dinner they sat over a drink, and talked. Much of his empathy was
+tied up in the difficult task of simply duplicating Soleri. He couldn’t
+get through to her with the accuracy he would have liked. But he did
+succeed in turning the conversation from Eleanor. She was willing.
+After the first flash of hatred she was completely willing to forget
+the girl existed.
+
+She looked at the clock. “Time for bed,” she said.
+
+It was awkward. He started to get up, avoiding her eyes. “I guess so,”
+he said, letting her assist him, thrilled by her nearness.
+
+There was nothing else he could do. She was attractive and he wanted
+her for himself. But she was desperately and unhappily in love with
+Soleri. He couldn’t let her know.
+
+“Randy,” he whispered softly as she clung to him. Laura seemed suddenly
+unreal and very far away, and he wished he’d never heard of Eleanor.
+
+Later he awakened to find her lying beside him, tense and still. She
+hadn’t been sleeping. In a surge of apprehension he wondered if she had
+discovered the truth about him.
+
+“Is anything the matter?” he asked.
+
+“Nothing.”
+
+“Nothing? Is that why you’re not sleeping?”
+
+“Well, there is. I was thinking,” she said. “It was what I saw when I
+ran into the office right after the explosion. The smoke was very thick
+and you were lying behind what was left of the desk. For an instant I
+wondered which one of you had died.”
+
+“How could you tell?” he said. “I was badly burned. My face--”
+
+“Your eyes are brown,” she said. “Brown. Anyway I knew. You _couldn’t_
+die.”
+
+“Try to forget about it,” he said. “That nightmare is over. I’m alive.”
+
+“And so is Eleanor.”
+
+He sighed, wishing again that he could tell her everything. But Soleri
+would never deny the romance-shattering reality that stood between
+them. “You’ve always known about her.”
+
+“So I have.” She moved closer to him. “I’m content with this brief
+dream of happiness.”
+
+That was better. He caressed her lightly, tenderly. “It’s all right,”
+he said soothingly. “Nothing has changed between us.”
+
+“I know, darling,” she murmured. He thought he heard her laugh before
+she went to sleep.
+
+At last he fell asleep.
+
+
+
+
+                                   V
+
+
+For the next few days Talbot was feverishly busy. Just what inner
+drives had dominated Soleri and how would he have reacted to any given
+situation? What had been his precise relationships with the people
+Talbot would be meeting daily? Fortunately there was an accumulation
+of recorded calls and messages. He played and re-played them. He
+subscribed to a clipping service and pieced together a fairly complete
+account of Soleri’s social activities.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There were other rewarding sources. He scanned minutes of
+TRANSPORTATION meetings. He examined financial statements to give
+himself another sidelight on the life he had usurped. Pictures,
+letters--even the apartment--added to his growing knowledge.
+
+Handwriting presented no difficulty. He found Soleri’s signature, and
+duplicated it on second trial. Soon he didn’t even have to try--it
+became second nature to him to forge Soleri’s name on letters and
+documents. Mannerisms came easily too. Ways of walking, the quick
+thoughtful smile that appeared at intervals, the clothes he wore and
+how he wore them---all these distinguishing characteristics he copied
+with little conscious effort. He was as much Soleri as another person
+could be.
+
+He rested and regained his strength, painstakingly sharpening himself
+until he was ready. Randy appeared frequently on the call plate,
+keeping him informed of what went on at the plant. But she didn’t
+return to the apartment. He would have rejoiced in her presence but he
+didn’t ask her. It would have meant taking a dangerous, unnecessary
+risk.
+
+Finally he went back to work, nodding cheerfully to the receptionist in
+the outer office as he turned left at the stairs. There was no trace of
+damage in his private office. It had been rebuilt and refurnished and
+was now exactly as he remembered it.
+
+Randy came in at once, cool and beautiful. “I told Frescura you’d like
+to see him,” she said. “He’ll be in his lab until noon.”
+
+Frescura, the famous heat and rocket scientist! He’d have to handle
+that interview with care. He had no way of knowing how much technical
+information the man had imparted to Soleri.
+
+“I’ll see him but I hadn’t planned on it until later,” he said. It was
+a false statement, but there was no need to take her completely into
+his confidence.
+
+“I’m sorry,” she said with feigned meekness. “I was trying to
+anticipate.”
+
+He knew that she was actively hating him for Eleanor. He’d have to find
+some way to ease the tension. But at the moment other problems loomed
+more urgently. He became expediently stern.
+
+“Forget the secretarial pose,” he growled. “You’re a psychologist.
+Your job is to find out who is resorting to deliberate sabotage in the
+plant. What does plant protection say about the thermal bomb?”
+
+She met his gaze candidly. “Nothing. Anyone at all might have had
+access to the hall.”
+
+“Then we’ll have to work at it from the other end,” he said.
+
+She laid a sheaf of papers on his desk. He knew they were documents
+of no great importance. “Shall I tell Frescura you won’t be out?” she
+asked.
+
+“I’ll see him,” he said.
+
+She looked at him oddly, and turned to go.
+
+“Randy.”
+
+“Yes?”
+
+He didn’t know exactly what to say, so he tried it out for sound. “I
+still want to find out why we’re not getting the motor. But it’s more
+than simple sabotage now. A man was killed--a man I regarded as a
+friend, even though I didn’t know him well. We’ve got to find out who
+is responsible. That comes first. Do you understand?”
+
+Her wonderful brown eyes regarded him steadily. She turned away. “I
+understand,” she said.
+
+“Keep it in mind,” he said. He got up and went to see Frescura.
+
+Fred Frescura was a big man with more hair on his face than on his
+head. He was nearly bald but his eyebrows and mustache were thick and
+black. He had an air of concentration and childlike enjoyment of his
+work. Neither impression, decided Talbot, was strictly accurate.
+
+He crumpled a sheet of calculations as Talbot came in, and moved out
+from behind the desk. “I’m glad to see you,” he said gruffly. “For a
+while we weren’t sure whether you’d been cremated in the holocaust.”
+
+“It was more like an inferno,” said Talbot. “I survived.”
+
+“So I see,” said Frescura. “I tried to get to the hospital but Randy
+wouldn’t let me in. For three days she camped in the corridor.”
+
+“She takes excellent care of me,” acknowledged Talbot. He glanced at
+the desk and suddenly turned pale.
+
+Frescura laughed reassuringly. “Don’t worry. These capsules are
+harmless or _I_ wouldn’t be here.” He picked up a few of the tiny
+black cylinders and juggled them casually. “I was just attempting a
+reconstruction. What size was the thermal capsule which you saw?”
+
+Talbot touched the spheres gingerly. They were jet-black and
+fathomlessly unreflective. “This, I think,” he said. “Or possibly this.”
+
+Frescura laid five of the capsules down, rolling the other two in
+his hand. “I’m afraid that doesn’t help much,” he said at last. “It
+depends, you see, on how thick the covering was, and we can only guess
+at that. Let’s say the temperature was over a hundred thousand degrees.”
+
+The temperature didn’t interest Talbot. He didn’t care by how much he’d
+nearly been vaporized. “Why don’t we use capsule material like this?”
+he said. “It ought to make a good tube liner.”
+
+Frescura’s brows seemed to thicken and grow larger. “Are you seriously
+suggesting that I start my experiments from the beginning? Four years
+ago I told you we couldn’t use it. Now you act as if it’s something
+new.”
+
+Talbot got out of the dilemma hastily. He regretted that he had not
+spent more time on the technical aspects. He’d tried to be thorough,
+but failures were never recorded as thoroughly as triumphs.
+
+“It’s a thought,” he said, hoping the remark would pass for executive
+stubbornness. “Maybe we overlooked something.”
+
+“Maybe we _didn’t_,” growled Frescura. “The thinnest skin we can
+make will hold a piece of matter at a hundred thousand degrees for
+ten minutes. If we make it two inches thick it will last twenty-nine
+minutes and fourteen seconds. Constructed out of this a liner that
+would do us any good would be a quarter mile in diameter at its widest
+section. Is that practical?”
+
+“You might look into it again. You may have some new ideas,” said
+Talbot. He had avoided stumbling badly--and he’d learned something,
+although he should have known it in advance. The thermal bomb had been
+made in the plant. He looked up quickly. “Just when did the technicians
+arrive that morning? How many were in early?”
+
+“I went over that,” said Frescura. “So did plant protection. At least
+fifty men were asked in ahead of their shift. Several came in without
+being asked. But none of them were near your office.”
+
+It was puzzling and significant. Soleri had been in charge for years
+with no attempt on his life _until he, Talbot, had been brought in_.
+
+Talbot filed the fact away for future reference. Someone had known
+Talbot was going to come in that morning. Soleri had made it plain that
+Randy knew. But who else?
+
+Whom besides Randy had Soleri talked to? He couldn’t ask, but it was
+of vital importance. Whoever it was he had carefully manufactured the
+bomb in the laboratory, calculating the time by the thickness of the
+skin. That somebody had stuffed the capsule in his pocket and gone to
+Soleri’s office. When only a few seconds remained, he had rolled it
+through the door, giving himself just enough time to escape. But who
+was he? Talbot had no idea.
+
+He discussed the thermal bomb for a moment or two and then switched to
+the progress on the motor. He listened to Frescura, who was more than
+willing to talk. Soon, unless he could slide out of the invitation, he
+was going to have to answer some far more pointed questions from Taft.
+
+Still discussing high, very high, and stellar temperature chemistry,
+they went into the main experimental shop. This gave Talbot the
+opportunity of meeting the men he was supposed to have worked with for
+several years. There was a great difference between a picture and a
+page of statistics--even psychologically loaded statistics--and the
+man himself. He did a creditable job of imitating Soleri as he spoke
+to them. He had gone a long way toward merging with the dead man’s
+personality. But there was always an incalculable risk involved in
+anything he might say or do.
+
+Frescura stopped expectantly beside a large construction site
+enclosure. “This is the latest,” he said in a hushed voice.
+
+Talbot looked at the work in progress critically. He was still at sea
+as to its more technical aspects. “Is this the project we were working
+on before the accident?” he asked.
+
+“Not exactly,” Frescura replied. “I’ve mentioned the theory before. But
+the application is new.”
+
+Talbot was relieved. He wouldn’t be expected to know much about it. “Go
+over it for my benefit,” he urged. “Quite a bit has happened in the
+interval.”
+
+Frescura glanced at him queerly, and he regretted having made the
+request. “You ought to remember this,” said the scientist. “Well,
+it’s off the mainline of our experiments, but I thought we might get
+some constructive results. We make the tube of dissimilar metals, one
+jacketing the other. When it is heated we get a thermocouple effect.
+An electric charge is generated. The charge on the inside of the tube
+repels the exhaust molecules so that they don’t actually come in
+contact with the inside surface. This reduces both heating and erosion.”
+
+Talbot rubbed his head. “I remember. Is it ready to go?”
+
+“It is,” said Frescura grimly. “But don’t stand there unless you want
+another accident.”
+
+Talbot got out of the way hastily. He was blundering in practically
+every statement he made. There was far more to a person than
+personality, or his outward appearance. In Talbot’s particular case
+knowledge was lacking--not textbook information, but intimate details
+that could be acquired only by working closely with the man he was
+impersonating. So far it hadn’t been serious. But he’d have to watch
+himself.
+
+Frescura moved a switch, and there was a rumble within the enclosure. A
+tiny, barely visible flame shot out a foot from where Talbot had been
+standing. The rumble rose to a shriek, and quickly passed beyond the
+range of hearing. The flame disappeared, but Talbot could still feel
+the heat.
+
+Frescura picked up a wrench and tossed it into the path of the exhaust.
+The instrument vanished and the huge curved backstop a hundred feet
+away was suddenly coated with a thin film of molten metal. Frescura
+grinned at him.
+
+“You’ve got to watch these things,” he said. He peered into an
+eyepiece on the enclosure, making several adjustments before he seemed
+satisfied. “Take a look,” he said to Talbot.
+
+Talbot looked, his eyes gradually growing accustomed to the intense
+light that passed through the dense filters. He could see the inside
+of the rocket tube, and the fierce incandescence shooting by. Actually
+none of the exhaust gasses touched the walls of the tube, for there
+was a static area an inch in thickness next to the wall where nothing
+seemed to penetrate.
+
+As he tried to see more clearly exactly what was happening the
+enclosure began to vibrate again, shaking the foundation. But the metal
+held. The shriek declined to a rumble and then the sound died away
+completely.
+
+Talbot blinked and straightened up. Frescura was jotting down
+readings from the instruments on the enclosure. He made a few quick
+calculations. “The test corresponds to a rocket speed of thirty
+thousand miles a second,” he said.
+
+It was a long way from what they wanted, but it was about fifteen
+times better than anything that had been attained before. “Not bad,”
+Talbot said, cautiously. “Maybe we should settle for this. One sixth
+the speed of light. Twenty-five years to the nearest star.”
+
+Frescura scowled at him. “Make it thirty,” he said. “They’ve got to get
+up speed and slow down. Thirty to the star and thirty back. Sixty years
+for the round trip, not counting exploration time.”
+
+“I understand,” Talbot said. “But with a young crew--boys not over
+twenty-two or three--it’s possible to send a ship to the nearest star
+and reasonably expect it to return.”
+
+“They’ll be eighty when they come back,” said Frescura. “Their friends
+will all be dead.”
+
+“There are some lads who will volunteer--if the rewards are high
+enough.”
+
+“No doubt,” said Frescura. “But there’s one detail which prevents
+it--building a rocket motor which will last for more than a few
+seconds.”
+
+“You’ve already accomplished a great deal,” said Talbot.
+
+“This?” Frescura laughed. “No good at all. You saw what just happened.”
+
+“I did. You shut off the motor.”
+
+Frescura looked at Talbot with sour amusement. “It was the automatics
+that cut off the flow of fuel. Didn’t you see it? The inner charge
+repelled matter, but it _couldn’t stop radiation_. Radiation heated
+the tube. As it grew hot beyond a certain temperature the thermocouple
+charge diminished, intensifying the heat transfer to the tube. When it
+went, it fell apart in a hurry.”
+
+Talbot frowned. “There’s no way around it?”
+
+“None I know of. I’ll keep trying of course. With another hundred
+million dollars we might make this work even though it’s far from what
+we’re after.”
+
+Talbot shook his head in admiration. Frescura tossed huge sums about
+with utmost ease. “Keep with it,” he said. “We’ve got to lick this or
+it will finish us.”
+
+“We’ll come out on top,” said Frescura optimistically.
+
+Unfortunately Talbot didn’t have the same confidence. “Economize where
+you can,” he cautioned.
+
+“There is no such thing as economy in research,” Frescura affirmed.
+
+“There had better be. We’re running low. Accounting is beginning to ask
+questions. We’ll have to go to the board of directors before long.”
+
+“I guess so. The accident cost plenty.” Frescura leaned against the
+enclosure, rubbing it with unconscious affection. “If you need help,
+let me know. I’ll add my weight to yours.”
+
+“I’ll let you know,” said Talbot as he walked away.
+
+The trouble with Frescura was that he was a theoretical scientist,
+completely indifferent to cost. As he went through the plant he saw
+countless examples of waste. There was endless duplication, and the
+place seemed overstaffed. But, though he could undoubtedly reduce costs
+with efficient administration, that was not the most vital problem.
+
+He had to locate and unmask a man who did not shrink from cold-blooded
+murder. It couldn’t have been Soleri. A successful saboteur would
+not have sought out Talbot to help him. Neither would he have killed
+himself. And it could not have been Randy. The trouble had begun long
+before she had been hired. It wasn’t Frescura, for he had not only
+initiated the project. He had pushed it through with all the influence
+at his command.
+
+Taft was still unaccounted for. But he was the president of the company
+and it was inconceivable that he would launch a criminal conspiracy
+against his own interests.
+
+Nevertheless Talbot made up his own mind. His extreme sensitivity was
+his most valuable weapon. He intended to find out just how far it would
+take him. He completed the tour of the plant and went back to the
+office.
+
+He called Randy, and immediately took up the problem of Taft. “I still
+haven’t answered his invitation,” he told her.
+
+Her eyes clouded. “I know,” she said. “I’ll notify the department heads
+that you won’t be in the plant for a few days--beginning Wednesday.”
+
+“I’ll be here,” he said. “I want you to dream up an excuse why I can’t
+go. Make it good. I trust your social sense.”
+
+“You can’t do that,” she protested. “Have you seen the latest statement
+from accounting?”
+
+“I have. We’ll need funds before long.”
+
+“You don’t turn down an invitation from the president when you may need
+his help.”
+
+“You do when there are graver issues at stake. I’ve got to begin
+somewhere. The top is a good place.”
+
+“A dangerous place,” she said.
+
+“I’m not thinking about that.”
+
+“You’d better,” she said. “Unless--have you got a cushion?”
+
+“In a way,” he said. “Somebody wants this project to fail, badly enough
+kill anyone who stands in his way. Good, we’ll let it come close to
+failure. We’ll see if there is any attempt made to interfere--”
+
+“You’re the boss,” she shrugged.
+
+“I hope it works.”
+
+“It will.”
+
+He flung himself into his work for the remainder of the afternoon.
+Facts and figures went into his head and what came out was a reasonable
+duplication of what Soleri had known.
+
+He finished late. Most of the office force had gone home. A few
+technicians were working in the shop. Tired and numb he took an aircab.
+Twenty moments later he was letting himself into his apartment. He
+wasn’t imagining it. There was someone in the apartment. Still, Soleri
+would inevitably have visitors now and then. It was nothing to be
+afraid of. He went in.
+
+Randy smiled at him. “Hello, darling,” she said.
+
+
+
+
+                                   VI
+
+
+Frescura got up hastily as he heard Taft’s familiar voice in Randy’s
+office. “I’ll leave,” he said, folding the sheet Talbot had just signed.
+
+“Stick around,” Talbot urged. “I’m sure he wants to see you.” He hadn’t
+thought Taft would come so soon, but he was not at all displeased. He
+was equally grateful for Frescura’s presence, feeling confident that
+it would provoke some interesting reactions. But he was destined to be
+disappointed.
+
+Frescura wriggled his thick mustache. “I came up to ask Randy
+something. I’ll go talk to her. If Taft wants to see me he’ll come out
+to the lab.”
+
+“Suit yourself,” said Talbot.
+
+Frescura left. He could hear him conversing briefly with Taft in
+Randy’s office before Taft came in.
+
+Andrew Taft was not the lean graying figure so familiar to the newscast
+public. He was tall, but he was also considerably heavier than he
+appeared to be on the screen. Distinguished citizens had certain
+prerogatives, and the networks saw to it that the lighting dealt kindly
+with them.
+
+“Sorry about the party,” Taft said on entering. “I flew up to try to
+persuade you to change your mind.”
+
+Talbot shook hands, using his most cautious Soleri approach. “You know
+how it is,” he said in half-apology. “I’ve fallen behind since the
+tragedy. I’ve got to dig my way out.”
+
+“I’ve worried about you,” said Taft. “So has Eleanor.” He glanced up
+quickly. “Your insistence on shunning social engagements doesn’t have
+anything to do with her, does it?”
+
+“It doesn’t,” Talbot assured him.
+
+“South Africa may be a nice place to live. But it’s quite a distance.
+And I really am in a mess here.”
+
+“Nonsense. You can fly there in a few hours,” said Taft.
+
+“Eight,” Talbot reminded him. “Service isn’t good to that part of the
+globe.”
+
+“You can cut the time in half if you charter a direct flight,” said
+Taft. “I suppose it would tire you out. But over-work can kill. You
+ought to call Eleanor. You know she won’t take the initiative.”
+
+Talbot decided to risk a decisive move. “I’ll call her now,” he said.
+
+“No, wait until I leave,” said Taft hastily. “I don’t want her to know
+I came to see you.”
+
+“Tonight then,” suggested Talbot.
+
+“Tonight’s fine,” said Taft. He chatted on inconsequentially for a
+time. Talbot could see that Soleri’s relationship with Eleanor’s
+family--though nominally cordial--was actually quite superficial,
+except possibly with Eleanor herself. He would have to be careful not
+to trip there.
+
+“What’s behind all this?” said Taft finally. “I know you. You work
+hard, but you can also relax. You’re not the kind to turn down an
+invitation just because you’re busy.”
+
+He’d judged the man correctly. Taft was shrewd, and quick to protect
+his own interests, daughter or company. “I may as well be frank,” said
+Talbot heavily. “I’m afraid we’re not going to develop the perfect
+rocket motor--or anything close to it.”
+
+“That’s not what you said in your last report.”
+
+“Official optimism.”
+
+“It’s not Frescura’s attitude. I talked to him in Randy’s office and
+he’s brimming over with enthusiasm.”
+
+“Frescura will back his own work if it takes the last cent of the
+stockholders’ money.”
+
+“Don’t forget that some of that money belongs to him. He has stock in
+the company too. In fact, his holdings exceed yours.”
+
+“I know. But we’ve spent six times the amount we originally estimated.
+And the end’s not even in sight. I haven’t made up my mind, but I’ve
+been wondering lately. Perhaps we should abandon this line of research
+entirely. It may be the wisest course.”
+
+Taft stared at him, aghast. “You must be out of your mind. What would
+we do with this plant? Close it down?”
+
+“We don’t have to. We can lease research facilities to other companies.
+We can tackle short-range projects that _will_ pay off.”
+
+Taft got up and paced the floor. “You’re in favor of abandoning the
+perfect rocket motor?”
+
+“I didn’t say that. I merely said that I was thinking about it. Of
+course an alternative would be to reduce the scale of our efforts. Cut
+it back to a few men--something that we can afford.”
+
+“I don’t know,” said Taft in agitation. “Frescura isn’t going to like
+this.”
+
+“That’s another matter I wanted to discuss with you,” said Talbot.
+“Frescura is a valuable man--too brilliant to be wasted on a project
+that has no chance of success. We should assign him to something more
+worthy of his talent.”
+
+Taft sat down. “You are actually saying that we should forget about
+going to the stars.”
+
+“Not exactly. I think the idea should be placed in the proper
+perspective. Later developments may enable us to resurrect it.” Talbot
+was somewhat bewildered. Taft’s reaction had surprised him--although he
+couldn’t have said quite what it was that he had expected.
+
+“Don’t you see what it means?” said Taft, his face lighting up. “If we
+develop the motor in our own shops it will be _ours_. We won’t have to
+license it to others. Every bit of interstellar trade will be carried
+in our ships. Ours alone. _Monopoly_.”
+
+“Monopoly is nice,” said Talbot. “Bankruptcy isn’t. That’s what we face
+unless we cut down.”
+
+“TRANSPORTATION is years away from bankruptcy,” said Taft sharply.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It was a shock to hear even that admission. Talbot’s own knowledge of
+the company’s financial position was fair. But Taft was in a better
+position to know the facts and if he said, even privately, that ruin
+was years away it could be assumed that he had grave doubts about the
+stability of the corporation.
+
+The startling fact stood revealed in all its naked ugliness. The
+largest company in the solar system was none too secure. And it was the
+reckless expenditures that Soleri was directing that had led them to
+the brink of disaster. At least he had uncovered one motive. Someone
+with a knowledge of the truth was out to wreck TRANSPORTATION.
+
+Before he could collect his thoughts there was an unexpected
+interruption. The door opened and Frescura came in, his face dark with
+anger. “As long as this is a stockholders’ meeting I thought I’d make
+it a quorum,” he said.
+
+This much Talbot knew. Taft was the largest individual holder, owning
+something less than fifty percent of the total corporate shares.
+Frescura held a lesser percentage, though fractionally more than Soleri
+did. Together the three of them constituted an actual working majority.
+It had been their combined votes which had backed the project from the
+beginning.
+
+“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” said Frescura. “Randy touched the wrong
+button while we were talking and I overheard part of the conversation.
+It concerned me--so I came in.”
+
+“We were discussing policy,” said Taft soothingly. “Nothing was
+decided. You understand that.”
+
+“I understand,” said Frescura in a hard set tone. “I also understand
+that this man is dangerous. He is _not_ Soleri.”
+
+The assurance that Talbot had gradually been acquiring suddenly
+collapsed. He sat motionless, while a cold constriction tightened about
+his heart.
+
+Taft looked from Talbot to Frescura. “You can’t be serious? I ought to
+be able to recognize my chief executive and my own daughter’s fiance.”
+
+“Ordinally you would. But this man is a clever impostor,” said
+Frescura. “He wants to abandon the project. Soleri would have recoiled
+from the thought.”
+
+“I see no significance in that. Anyone can change his mind.”
+
+“Proof is on the way,” said Frescura. He seemed very sure of himself.
+“I began to suspect him when he put questions to me Soleri would not
+have needed to ask.”
+
+“It still isn’t proof.” But Taft was wavering. He turned and stared
+uncertainly at Talbot.
+
+“You can’t expect me to defend myself from a charge like this,” said
+Talbot. He realized at once that it was a weak answer, and tried to
+strengthen it. “The fire in my office wasn’t trivial. It’s true, I may
+have suffered a slight memory loss. The bursting of a few tiny blood
+vessels in my brain would account for it. But that doesn’t mean I’m
+less capable than before.”
+
+There was no possibility of escape. At Frescura’s command plant
+protection would close every exit in the building. And then he’d be
+charged with sabotage and murder.
+
+He had to sit it out. If he was exposed his only chance would be to
+claim that for a time he had actually thought himself to be Soleri.
+They’d investigate him psychologically, but mind tests weren’t exact
+and he had a good chance of making them believe he was telling the
+truth.
+
+“Nobody’s doubting your mental competence,” said Taft. “But there is
+some question as to who you are. Are you Evan Soleri?”
+
+“What can I say to that?” said Talbot. “Are you Andrew Taft?”
+
+“That’s not a defense,” said Frescura with smooth confidence. “It won’t
+be difficult to establish your identity.” He turned abruptly. “Come in
+Randy.”
+
+The door opened and Randy entered the room. Talbot was sure she had
+been listening to the entire conversation. He had never doubted her
+loyalty, but if Frescura had convinced her that he was not worthy of
+loyalty--
+
+Frescura took the folder from her. Talbot knew what was coming but
+curiously it relieved him. At least Randy wasn’t responsible.
+
+“You can leave now,” Frescura said sharply to her. Talbot knew she
+would continue to listen outside the door, and was glad he would not
+have to see her face.
+
+“His right hand was badly burned,” Frescura was saying. “New skin was
+grafted on. We can’t prove anything from that.”
+
+“Fingerprints?” said Taft. “It’s an old method of identification, but
+I’ve often wondered why it has fallen into disrepute.”
+
+“Because of the prevalence of skin grafts,” said Frescura. “But for
+certain purposes it’s still the most accurate method.” He smiled. “It’s
+in the hospital record that his left hand wasn’t burned. No skin was
+grafted on. The prints on that hand will show us who he really is.”
+
+He shook the folder at Talbot. “This man signed an authorization
+shortly before you came. When I heard what he said to you my suspicions
+were confirmed. I sent Randy down to plant protection for a comparison
+of prints. Here are the results.”
+
+He opened the folder, and looked at the three typed pages within. He
+stood there motionless, staring in consternation until the papers slid
+out and fluttered to the floor. His face was ashen. He reached out for
+support and lowered himself into a chair.
+
+“What does it say?” said Taft impatiently. “My God, what’s happening
+around this place anyway?” He scooped up the papers and read them
+silently. He passed them over to Talbot. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Truly
+sorry. I should never have had even the slightest doubt about you.”
+
+Talbot’s sight blurred as he read the comment from plant protection:
+“Comparison of prints with those in our file reveals that Evan Soleri
+signed this authorization. The left hand prints match perfectly. The
+right hand indicates a skin graft from which no identification can be
+made.”
+
+Empathy had saved him. It had collapsed the difference between one
+person and another to nothing--zero. It had changed more than his face
+to match the subject identity. To the tips of his fingers he was now
+Soleri. The change hadn’t been made all at once; perhaps it had taken
+a week to reach completion. But here he was, safely Soleri--or trapped
+in the other identity. For the moment he preferred to think of it as
+safety.
+
+“There are other tests,” he said to Frescura. “I’ll take them all,
+including the empathy index.”
+
+Frescura stirred dully. “It will be zero point ninety-five,” he said.
+
+“Don’t bait him,” said Taft sharply. “He made a mistake, granted. He
+accused you unjustly. But you must remember that you attacked a project
+he has devoted his life to. He’s emotionally upset. What he did was
+understandable.”
+
+Frescura’s eyes roamed across the ceiling. “I couldn’t let you stop
+me,” he whispered.
+
+Taft grasped his shoulder encouragingly. “Nothing will stop us. We’re
+going to the stars--no matter what it costs. However, you’ve been
+working too hard. I’ll send my doctor to you. He’s strict about some
+things but he’s the best. He’ll get you back in shape.”
+
+Taft turned to Talbot. “As for you, I don’t like memory lapses, even
+in minor matters. I want you to promise me you’ll see my doctor after
+he gets through with Frescura.”
+
+“I’ll be glad to,” Talbot said, without animosity. “I’ve been wondering
+what to do.”
+
+Taft swung back to Frescura. By some personal miracle the man had
+pulled himself together again. He was alert and forceful. Taft regarded
+him with approval.
+
+“That’s better. Go home and rest. Don’t work today.”
+
+“You’re right,” Frescura said. “I should do that. I’ll have to drop by
+the lab and tell the boys I won’t be in for a few days.”
+
+“Evan will tell them. We’ll call a cab and get you on your way. Don’t
+worry about anything. The project will be continued.”
+
+They waited until Frescura left in an aircab. Taft got up, shaking his
+head bewilderedly. “Well, I’ll go too. Don’t forget that call tonight.”
+
+“I won’t. I’ll be sure and call her.”
+
+“Good.” Taft wiped his forehead. “This has been a hassle. We have them
+occasionally but I’ve never seen one to equal this.” Still shaking his
+head he went away.
+
+Talbot leaned back and closed his eyes. He had achieved a victory
+that was far from superficial and it gave him a feeling of personal
+solidity. He was Soleri and he was going to be Soleri and nobody would
+ever know the difference.
+
+But the rest didn’t make sense.
+
+Both Taft and Frescura were now beyond suspicion. He had nothing to go
+on--nothing at all. He’d have to re-examine the whole problem from the
+beginning. Somewhere within the plant was a criminal conspirator who
+didn’t want TRANSPORTATION to develop the perfect rocket motor. He was
+still there. He had killed once, and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.
+
+Why? If he could put his finger on the man’s motivating impulse he
+could track him down with little trouble. Somehow it seemed to go far
+beyond ordinary commercial rivalry.
+
+Talbot heard a sound at his elbow and opened his eyes. Randy was
+standing beside the desk.
+
+“Sleeping?” she asked, smiling at him.
+
+“No, just thinking,” he said.
+
+She leaned toward him. “Think about this then. I want to leave early.”
+
+He stared at her, puzzled. “No. There’s work to do.”
+
+“But there isn’t,” she assured him. “I ought to know.”
+
+He realized then that she wanted him to know that she had listened
+to most of the conversation. Probably she’d read the note from plant
+protection. Talbot thought of the call he’d have to make later. He had
+no desire to make her listen to that too.
+
+“All right,” he said. “I guess you know by now that I can’t play the
+stern employer when you look at me like that.”
+
+She smiled at him, turned and went out.
+
+He remained in his office thinking throughout the afternoon. He went
+home late--and alone.
+
+
+
+
+                                  VII
+
+
+In a dim corner of the apartment Talbot fingered a picture of Eleanor.
+Soleri’s taste in women closely paralleled his own. From a distance
+Eleanor could be mistaken for Laura. She was a trifle prettier perhaps,
+more lighthearted and whimsical, and more used to having her own way.
+
+He didn’t want to put through a long-distance call to her. He was
+entangled enough as it was with Randy, the three-cornered struggle
+between himself, Taft and Frescura and the unknown obstructionist in
+the plant, not to mention the perfectly efficient rocket motor that was
+never going to be built.
+
+He laid the picture face downwards on his desk, and went to the screen.
+But he didn’t call Eleanor Taft in her South African home. He called
+Randy.
+
+She answered in a charming state of dishabille. “Is this the way you
+always come to the screen?” he asked.
+
+“I knew it was you,” she replied. “I’m only surprised that you didn’t
+call sooner.”
+
+“Put some clothes on,” he said.
+
+“Don’t you like it? Or are you asking me to come over?”
+
+“I like it,” he said. “But don’t come over. Not yet. I want some
+information. Precisely what did you do this afternoon?”
+
+She made a face. “It was awful. Candidly I thought I’d stumbled into
+an old fashioned mental institution. I never would have believed I was
+eavesdropping on a high-level conference between the three top minds in
+the biggest corporation in the system.”
+
+“We’re human too,” he said gloomily. “At least I think we are. What I
+meant was: What did you do when Frescura came out of my office and Taft
+went in?”
+
+“Do you want a detailed report?”
+
+“Yes--all of it. Exactly as it happened.”
+
+“Well, Frescura came out and talked to Taft for a moment. Taft went in
+to see you, and Frescura wanted some information from another office.
+He sent me to get it. When I came back he handed me the folder and told
+me to take it to plant protection. He said to wait there for results
+and bring it back as soon as I could.”
+
+“Is that all?”
+
+“That’s all.”
+
+“Good,” Talbot said. “Put on your clothes and come over.”
+
+“I’m glad you changed your mind.”
+
+“So am I. But I won’t be home when you get here. I may not be back
+until quite late. Whatever you do, don’t leave the apartment until I
+return. Promise?”
+
+“What choice do you give me? I’ll wait.”
+
+He cut off the screen and reached for a jacket. With methodical
+persistence he went through Soleri’s possessions until he found a gun.
+He had expected to find one. He checked it swiftly to make sure that
+it was loaded and in working condition. It was. He pocketed it with
+satisfaction and called a cab. He had to hurry.
+
+He saw from the air that the entire plant was dark except for a light
+in one of the offices. Even from a distance he thought he could tell
+which office it was. The cab landed, and he got out. There was a guard
+at the office entrance. He questioned the man quickly, and thoroughly.
+
+The plant was closed down tight. All of the other gates were securely
+locked and would remain closed until morning. The guard hadn’t seen
+anyone leave or enter the building. He didn’t know whether or not the
+office was occupied but it was reasonable to suppose that someone might
+be working late. Talbot stood back and looked. The light wasn’t visible
+from the corridor entrance.
+
+Talbot told the guard to stop anyone who came out. He went in and made
+a tour of the offices. They were all dark. The man in the lighted
+office had apparently heard Talbot enter the building and had left
+ahead of him.
+
+Talbot moved warily into the main shop. It was huge, cavernous and dim.
+He would not have been able to see at all except for the luminous strip
+which edged the aisles. Shadows loomed on the walls and ceiling and
+it would have been a simple matter for an intruder to conceal himself
+behind one of the machines.
+
+He went on. None of the laboratories were lighted. Back and forth
+across the plant he went, always sure there was a man just ahead of him
+he could never quite overtake. He turned and had begun to retrace his
+route when a light snapped on in the middle section of the building.
+He felt the gun in his pocket and walked to the edge of the circle of
+light.
+
+Frescura was standing completely motionless behind a machine, his head
+inclined. He looked up abruptly as Talbot approached. “I knew you would
+come back,” said Talbot.
+
+“I did,” acknowledged Frescura.
+
+“You lied this afternoon,” Talbot said. “Randy didn’t ‘accidentally’
+touch the button which enabled you to hear what I was saying. She
+wasn’t there. You sent her away so that you could listen.”
+
+Frescura smiled and said nothing.
+
+“You figured out what I was going to recommend to Taft. But you wanted
+to be sure. Another thing, I didn’t slip. You knew from the beginning
+or you would never have thought of the fingerprint subterfuge. You had
+to be the one who rolled in the bomb.”
+
+“Of course,” said Frescura. “Soleri confided to only two people that he
+was going to bring you in--myself and Randy. If Soleri had survived he
+would have remembered that. Therefore I guessed the truth instantly. I
+knew what you were capable of. That’s why I tried to get rid of both
+you, and Soleri.”
+
+“You must have sweated while I was in the hospital,” said Talbot. “It’s
+a good thing Randy was watching over me.”
+
+“It was a good thing for you that I was nervous,” said Frescura.
+“Later, when you got well and didn’t say anything I knew exactly what
+had happened. I thought I could handle you.”
+
+“That was your biggest mistake. I caused all sorts of trouble. But
+why did you have to get rid of anyone? Was it because you were close
+to success? Or because you wanted the discovery for yourself when the
+company failed?”
+
+“You’re still thinking in terms of money,” said Frescura. “There are
+things of far greater importance. The discovery was mine. It was mine
+from the very beginning. I did all the fundamental work. After the
+first year I could have built a motor that would drive a ship near the
+speed of light.”
+
+Talbot leaned back. “And you still asked for more money, pouring it
+endlessly into non-existent research? I’ll admit that you could have
+led us astray--if anybody could. But why?”
+
+“I wanted to be absolutely successful in establishing a conviction
+that the motor could never be built,” said Frescura. “It was a
+problem in business psychology. I bought shares in the largest
+company in existence. I had influence, and I persuaded them to spend
+impossible sums under the direction of the foremost scientist in the
+field--myself. If that combination couldn’t build the motor no one else
+would ever try.”
+
+“What did you have to gain?” said Talbot.
+
+“Why don’t you ask me what I had to lose,” countered Frescura. “That
+engine would take us to the stars. Mankind isn’t ready for it.”
+
+“There’s something to what you say,” conceded Talbot. “Maybe we’re not
+ready. I’m not a judge. But you’re a scientist. Nearly everyone in your
+family has been a distinguished scientist for generations. Surely _you_
+should know that man is never fully ready for any new discovery.”
+
+“I am aware of my family’s collective guilt,” said Frescura. “But no
+Frescura will ever again be instrumental in leading mankind to the
+verge of destruction.”
+
+“That’s not an enlightening or entirely sane explanation,” said Talbot.
+
+“To you, perhaps not,” said Frescura. “To me it is. Both of my
+grandfathers worked on the atom bomb. It has haunted us--”
+
+Talbot’s hand moved toward the gun in his pocket. “I see,” he said. “It
+might haunt some people. However that disaster was prevented, just as
+your insane little scheme will be. You’ve failed.”
+
+“You’re mistaken,” said Frescura. “This afternoon I knew you’d begin to
+suspect me. I left deliberately, making sure you would see me go. But I
+came back.”
+
+“So did I,” said Talbot. “You failed.”
+
+“I hardly think you’ll shoot me,” said Frescura.
+
+“I will if I have to. You left notes. Other men will make good use of
+them now that they know you’ve been guilty of sabotage and murder.”
+
+“My notes will be quite useless to them,” said Frescura with a
+melancholy smile. “I told you I was far ahead of everyone else in the
+field.”
+
+The gun came out of Talbot’s pocket. He was sweating. “There are times
+when everyone feels that the human race isn’t worth blowing to hell,”
+he said. “You’ll feel differently after psychology. Let’s go.”
+
+“I can’t. My foot’s caught, and I’m in great pain. I turned on the
+light to prevent you from plugging away at me in the darkness.” He was
+staring intently at Talbot’s weapon. “I don’t have a gun. You will have
+to help me.”
+
+Talbot had no intention of moving any closer to Frescura’s powerful
+arms. “You’ll have to free yourself,” he said. “Your foot will slip out
+of the shoe.”
+
+“I’ll try.” Frescura leaned on the machine and strained. His leg
+swung free. There was an odd rattling sound. Talbot glanced down--and
+froze. Scores of black spheres were rolling across the floor in all
+directions. Thermal capsules! Frescura had quite obviously been lying
+about the injury to his leg. He had resorted to the subterfuge to
+distract Talbot’s attention while he overturned a small box at the base
+of the machine with a swift carefully timed kick.
+
+Talbot glanced up. Frescura had leapt back into the shadows, and was
+crouching behind the machines, his bulk only faintly visible in the dim
+light.
+
+“Can you find all of them in this light--in the time you have left?” he
+taunted. “What would you do with them if you succeeded?”
+
+Talbot raised his gun and sent a shot crashing into the shadows in the
+general direction of the voice. As the dim subsided he called out, “The
+next one will be you! Start toward the front.”
+
+There was a mocking laugh from another direction. “I don’t think I
+will. But you’d better hurry, Talbot.”
+
+He didn’t stop to argue. The shop would be an inferno when the covering
+of the capsules disintegrated.
+
+The shop was long, but it took him scarcely an instant to reach the
+office building. The two structures were connected, but there was a
+massive firewall between them. Talbot was thankful for the wall’s
+protection.
+
+At the corridor near the outside entrance he tried to turn too quickly
+and went sprawling into a side passageway. He cursed the panic which
+had caused him to stumble. It wasn’t entirely physical. His knees had
+simply buckled and he couldn’t control his actions as he slammed into
+the wall and fell. He was trying to get up when the thermal concussion
+hit him.
+
+The superheated air expanded violently and hurled him flat again. In
+the shop steel and concrete had been instantly vaporized near each
+sphere. But the firewall at the office held. It took up most of the
+shock before it crumbled, and the sprinklers switched on.
+
+Talbot became suddenly and violently ill. It was partly a nervous
+reaction, partly a physical one. The guard from the outside came by,
+running toward the explosion. He didn’t see Talbot lying stretched out
+on the floor in the side corridor.
+
+Talbot staggered to his feet and went outside. He was still panic
+stricken; he ran.
+
+When finally he was out of breath and the fear and nausea had
+diminished, he slowed down. He came to a rise in the street and looked
+back. The shop was a glowing mass of white hot steel and concrete.
+Now and then a capsule which had been timed for a different interval
+belatedly let loose, sending up a shower of sparks. Frescura was dead.
+
+Attracted by the fire and explosion people were coming out on the
+street. It was dark and he was glad he couldn’t see their faces. He
+tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He went by a group
+under a street light. A little boy stopped in front of him, gazing up.
+
+“Mommy, what’s the matter with him?” shrieked the child, pointing to
+Talbot’s face.
+
+The woman looked too. “Hush,” she said, jerking her son back. “You know
+it’s bad manners to point.”
+
+“But what’s the _matter_ with him?” persisted the child.
+
+Talbot walked on. His clothing was disheveled, but not burned. He felt
+light-headed, unsteady on his feet. He was not surprised that the woman
+had pulled the child away.
+
+He had done his best. He had tried desperately to save Frescura from
+his misplaced guilt feelings. Now he was going home to Randy. He had
+thought his return would be more triumphant than this.
+
+He was nearing the apartment when he caught sight of himself in a shop
+mirror. He went past, then came back, and looked again. Finally he
+looked away. Into his mind had washed a torrent of terror. His eyes
+seemed empty and hueless.
+
+His cheeks sagged. His face was _Between_.
+
+His empathy had been shattered by shock and fear. He could close the
+gulf between Soleri and himself because they had been very much alike
+to begin with. But Frescura was different, incomprehensible. He could
+never have succeeded in understanding Frescura.
+
+He had caught the last shreds of Frescura’s consciousness, and it was
+that terrifying awareness which had sent him sprawling just before the
+concussion. The obscure forces of his mind tried always to put him in
+another’s place. In times of extreme mental reaction the force became
+much stronger. But it couldn’t span the emotional gulf between himself
+and the scientist.
+
+What it had done was to force out the lingering hold Soleri’s
+personality still had on him. He was no longer Soleri. But by the same
+token he was not yet himself.
+
+He was reverting.
+
+And his face was Between. It was a visible indication of what he was
+becoming. He couldn’t ever hope to pass as Soleri again. And that meant
+that Randy would be lost to him forever.
+
+He turned and walked away from the apartment. His thoughts were dull
+and blank. He walked on until his body rebelled.
+
+He stared about him. His wandering hadn’t been haphazard.
+Subconsciously his steps had taken him to his old apartment. He was
+standing in front of the building where he had lived as Hal Talbot.
+Wearily he climbed two flights of stairs and let himself in with a key
+which he had never discarded.
+
+He fell on the bed. It was Talbot who went to sleep.
+
+
+
+
+                                  VIII
+
+
+In the morning he avoided shaving. He didn’t want to look in the
+mirror. He ate, slept again, and listened to newscasts.
+
+The newscaster announced that both Soleri and Frescura were dead.
+Soleri had been seen entering the plant but he hadn’t come out.
+Frescura’s death was harder to determine. He had left in the afternoon
+but there were definite indications that he had returned to the main
+workshop. The office building hadn’t been destroyed but the intense
+heat from the adjacent shop had caused considerable damage. A report
+had been found indicating that Frescura had planned a final experiment.
+He had been aware of the danger, and had planned to perform it at night
+in the workshop. An unexpected accident had apparently led to the
+tragedy.
+
+The loss of building and equipment was partly covered by insurance. The
+company hastened to assure the public that there was sufficient capital
+in reserve to enable it to survive the blow to its financial stability.
+
+Talbot shut off the newscast. He might have liked Frescura. Except for
+his excessive guilt complex the man had been heroic. And Talbot had to
+admit that Frescura had been right in one detail. He hadn’t failed. The
+perfect rocket motor would never be fully constructed in this century.
+
+Meanwhile, he had a problem. What did the future hold for him? He
+lunched frugally, and tried to control his agitation. In the middle of
+the afternoon there was a knock on the door.
+
+Randy had found him. She came in quietly and looked around at the
+shabby little apartment.
+
+“I didn’t come to ask questions, although I have a right to,” she said.
+“But you made a mistake. Your salary allotment is on the executive
+payroll. It came to me for verification.”
+
+“You can’t prove anything,” he said. “And if you could--would it
+matter?”
+
+“I can prove all I want to prove,” she said.
+
+“Soleri’s dead.”
+
+“I know,” she said. “I’ve known for a long time. That wasn’t the only
+mistake you made.”
+
+“You’ve known for a long time?” He sat down.
+
+“Since the night I took you home from the hospital--and stayed. You
+said the wrong things. You kept giving yourself away. Don’t forget I
+was hired because I’m a psychologist.”
+
+She stared at him steadily. “You told me that nothing had changed
+between us. But you were mistaken. I’m not in the habit of throwing
+myself at men. I admit I did at Soleri, just a little. But he was not
+in love with me. He might have been--except that he was in love with
+Eleanor.”
+
+“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Talbot said. “Take it to plant
+protection?”
+
+“I couldn’t,” she said. “I was upset, but I had trapped myself. I
+couldn’t--not until I figured things out. A few days later I decided
+not to interfere. You told me that a man had been killed and that you
+intended to find out why. I knew that you were not responsible for what
+had happened, that you were not just a self-seeking opportunist.”
+
+So his masquerade hadn’t been nearly as good as he had thought!
+At least two people had seen through it. “That arrangement you
+mentioned--your statement that you were going home early. Was that
+deliberate too?”
+
+“I wanted more proof that you weren’t Soleri,” said Randy. “And--well,
+I wanted to see if you minded. I’m glad you did.”
+
+His thoughts were whirling and he couldn’t look at her. Mechanically
+Talbot opened the envelope. There was more money in it for his three
+weeks of employment than he had earned in any previous three months.
+
+“When I put Talbot on the payroll I thought you were dead,” said Randy.
+“It was going to be your last job--so I made it a good one. I signed
+you on as assistant to Soleri.”
+
+He could do without that. He didn’t need any industrial “assists” apart
+from himself, and his training in transportation and electronics.
+
+“Taft is hoping you’ll show up,” said Randy. “His two top men are gone.
+He needs a new executive familiar with the organization. The company
+will still do research, on a dozen new projects. It has to keep on
+with experimental work if it’s going to survive.”
+
+“Thanks for the tip!” He grinned at her. “I might go down and see what
+position they have for a man of my ability. You’d like that, wouldn’t
+you?”
+
+He crossed the room and looked down at her. “But you’ve got to
+understand this--there are some things for which I can’t be any man’s
+assistant.”
+
+“You won’t be,” said Randy.
+
+“Don’t you know you never were?”
+
+He knew it now. It was good to be himself again.
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber’s Note:
+
+
+This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe, March 1956 (Vol. 5,
+No. 2.). Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+Obvious errors in punctuation have been silently corrected in this
+version, while spelling and hyphenation have been kept as is.
+
+
+
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77510 ***
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+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77510 ***</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowe114_8750" id="cover">
+  <img class="w30" src="images/cover.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div>
+
+<h1>
+The Assistant Self
+</h1>
+
+
+<p class="center p5">by <strong>F. L. Wallace</strong></p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div>
+
+<blockquote>
+<p><i>Sympathy for others may be one of the seven cardinal virtues. But
+man does not live by virtue alone, and a superabundance of any one
+attribute—however admirable in itself—can lead to stark tragedy.
+To appreciate fully the breadth of that tragedy you must follow in
+the footsteps of F. L. Wallace as he scatters golden nuggets of
+science fantasy entertainment along the frontiers of tomorrow with a
+prodigality undreamed of by lesser scribes. Here is a yarn that takes
+you straight into realms of abiding mystery and surmise</i>.</p>
+
+
+<p><strong>It was a world of Utopian dreams and industrial strife—buffeted by
+the winds of human unreason. But Hal Talbot was a man apart.</strong></p>
+</blockquote>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"><div class="chapter"></div>
+
+<p>“You always see the other person’s side,” said Laura. “Even the boss’s,
+especially when he fires you.”</p>
+
+<p>She swept the compact into her purse and stood up. “Now see if you can
+understand <i>my</i> point of view.” With a withering contempt in her
+eyes she swung the purse to her shoulder and walked rapidly away.</p>
+
+<p>Hal Talbot stared morosely at his drink. The worst of it was—he knew
+exactly how she felt. In spite of what everyone professed to believe
+empathy was a dreadful handicap. He had more than his share of it, and
+he couldn’t even hold down a simple lousy job.</p>
+
+<p>He raised the glass and saw through it a man—a total
+stranger—standing beside the booth in amused expectation. <i>The hell
+with him</i>, Talbot thought. He drank the beer and set the glass down.</p>
+
+<p>“Do you mind if I sit here?” the stranger asked.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot looked him over carefully. He was well-dressed—too
+well-dressed—and he conformed in virtually every other respect to the
+popular conception of the executive, suave and so completely sure of
+himself. Therefore—he probably wasn’t.</p>
+
+<p>“Suit yourself,” grunted Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>The man sat down and ordered for both of them. It was all right with
+Talbot. He <i>could</i> have paid for the drinks, but he was keenly
+aware that his dwindling resources wouldn’t last long.</p>
+
+<p>“I couldn’t help overhearing the conversation,” said the man.</p>
+
+<p>“We have all our fights in public,” said Talbot, with embittered irony.
+“It makes things more final.”</p>
+
+<p>The stranger stared at him steadily for an instant, his brows
+contracted. Then he asked: “Are you sure this is final?”</p>
+
+<p>“You heard what she said. I can’t hold a job.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s precisely what I mean. You seem capable enough. I’m curious as
+to the reason.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot looked at the other more intently. He was a man of much the same
+general build as Talbot, but he appeared to be five or six years older.</p>
+
+<p>“I mean no offense,” said the man. He fumbled in his pocket and held
+out a card.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot took it. There was a single word in bold black letters on one
+side: TRANSPORTATION. The crosses on the T’s were spaceships. On the
+other side was a name: <span class="allsmcap">evan soleri</span>, <i>vice-president in charge
+of research</i>. Talbot curled his fingers around the card.</p>
+
+<p>The man smiled. “Just call me Evan.”</p>
+
+<p>“All right, Evan. You’re going to offer me a job.” Talbot settled back
+comfortably. Things were falling into the routine pattern again.</p>
+
+<p>“Perhaps. But first—do you mind telling me why you keep getting fired?”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t mind,” said Talbot. He was used to impertinent and stupid
+questions. He was used to getting jobs in odd places and to the ups and
+downs that always seemed to straighten themselves out eventually. Some
+day perhaps he’d find himself in a situation from which all his empathy
+couldn’t rescue him. But he’d worry about that when it came.</p>
+
+<p>“You want to know why I get fired?” he asked, drawing the beer to him,
+and scowling across it. “Well, I’ll tell you. I meet someone like you.
+We talk, and are friendly. First thing you know he is offering me a
+job. I take it. In the beginning everything’s fine. I have a knack of
+knowing exactly what he wants. I get a raise practically overnight.</p>
+
+<p>“Then one day <i>his</i> boss comes in and wants something in a hurry.
+So he talks to me very earnestly about it. Before anyone realizes what
+has taken place his boss is depending on me instead of on him. So what
+can he do? He finds some pretext and fires me.”</p>
+
+<p>Evan Soleri nodded. “And you don’t object?”</p>
+
+<p>“I get mad, naturally,” said Talbot. “But what else <i>could</i> he do?
+He’s worked hard for the job and I come along and threaten to take it
+away. The point is—I’ve got no special qualification.”</p>
+
+<p>“Except empathy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Except that,” agreed Talbot. He took a long drink and set the glass
+down. “It’s funny. I get along well with people but my adjustment index
+isn’t so good.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve been thinking about that,” said Soleri. “Do you mind showing me
+your employment card?”</p>
+
+<p>“Sure—step number one,” said Talbot. “When do I start?” He handed over
+the card, and waved to the waiter for refills in the same motion.</p>
+
+<p>Soleri frowned at the card. “I notice you haven’t been tested in seven
+years. Why haven’t you gone back for re-evaluation?”</p>
+
+<p>“It costs money,” Talbot replied. “Anyway, aptitudes don’t change much
+after twenty-four.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s usually true,” said Soleri, returning the card.</p>
+
+<p>“When do I start?” said Talbot. “To save trouble shall I have them make
+out the termination notice at the same time? They can safely date it
+two months in advance. I usually last that long.”</p>
+
+<p>“You may be surprised.” Soleri smiled. “I’ve a feeling you can work
+well at the top. You’ve been starting too low.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot studied the executive. Curiously enough, he had the same
+feeling—if he ever got to the top. It was hard to do on ability alone.
+He never lasted long enough for anyone to find out how good he was.
+“What sort of work am I supposed to do?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Interested?” said Soleri. “Have you heard of the perfect rocket motor?”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve heard of it. Everybody has.” Talbot disposed of the beer. “It’s
+out of my line, though. I’m strictly business administration.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t prejudge what I have in mind,” said Soleri. “Have you also heard
+of Fred Frescura?”</p>
+
+<p>“The heat scientist?”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s right. The <i>foremost</i> heat and rocket scientist.” Soleri
+moved the glass aside. “As you know, present rockets are pretty
+poor. They take us around the solar system, but that’s all. And they
+don’t do that very well. Anyway, there’s mathematical proof that the
+theoretically perfect rocket motor can be built. We’ve been working on
+it for the past six years.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why come to me?” said Talbot. “I can’t help.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t be so sure. We want your empathy.”</p>
+
+<p>“You can have it,” said Talbot. “Look. One point five on the card,
+maybe actually one point four by now. It levels off. You know the
+standard curve as well as I do.”</p>
+
+<p>“The standard curve doesn’t always fit. That’s what I want to discuss.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot might have stayed to talk it over, but he caught a strong surge
+of panic from the executive. Panic or trouble—or both. He didn’t want
+either. He had quite enough of his own. It wasn’t every day he lost
+his job and his girl walked out on him.</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t feel in the mood for hashing this over,” he affirmed. “You’re
+expecting a woman anyway.”</p>
+
+<p>Soleri smiled quizzically. “See? I told you that you’re underestimating
+the strength of your empathy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing to it. You were looking at every pair of legs that came by.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t think it was that easy. Why don’t you wait? Randy will be here
+any minute.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot shook his head. “There’s no telling what Laura will do when she
+wanders out like this. She won’t go home, that’s for sure.”</p>
+
+<p>“I wish you’d reconsider.”</p>
+
+<p>“You can’t get a test tonight,” argued Talbot. “And a test is the only
+thing that will give us real information. I know what you’re going to
+suggest—that I come in tomorrow morning. Fine. So I’ll do it—tomorrow
+morning.”</p>
+
+<p>Again Soleri smiled. “I said that you were my man. Now I’m sure of it.
+Will you come in early, at seven thirty, say?”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot could feel the other’s panic diminish. Maybe he was even better
+than he thought—if he could produce that effect just by agreeing.
+“Seven thirty is pretty early,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“There’s a reason for it,” Soleri assured him.</p>
+
+<p>“I bet.”</p>
+
+<p>Soleri took out a card and scribbled some careful directions on it.
+“Here,” he said. “Come in this way. Just walk right in. There won’t be
+anyone there at that hour of the morning except me.”</p>
+
+<p>“Sure.” Talbot stuffed the card in his pocket and wandered over to the
+screen booth. He had trouble getting the connection, but when he did
+her father answered.</p>
+
+<p>He had been correct in his assumption. He came out of the booth and
+stood for an instant at the bar, gulping down a drink. His head
+turned to follow the progress of a woman who had just entered the
+cafe. She had deep brown eyes and blonde hair, and a great deal more.
+That helped. She was not only pretty—she was spectacular. He liked
+spectacular women.</p>
+
+<p>She went on by, and stopped at the booth occupied by Soleri. Quite
+obviously she was Randy. For a moment he regretted his decision to
+go in search of Laura. But only for a moment. Common sense told him
+he wouldn’t have a chance of taking a woman like that away from a
+vice-president of TRANSPORTATION. The company just happened to be the
+largest in existence.</p>
+
+<p>Still, it felt good to have a man of Soleri’s importance seek him
+out. He rolled the thought around in his mind. It was unquestionably
+true. Soleri had come looking for him. He knew it the way he knew so
+many things—without thinking, by feeling alone, by the ability to put
+himself in another’s place.</p>
+
+<p>By the time the thought had come full circle in his mind Randy and
+Soleri were gone. It was Laura now—or nothing.</p>
+
+<p>He went in search of her. She was not in any of the bars she usually
+frequented. She was nowhere. There could be no doubt that she was mad
+at him this time, and would be for weeks—even when she learned what he
+had coming up. She wanted to get married and was furious with him for
+daring to put her off.</p>
+
+<p>It took him quite a while to become absolutely convinced he wasn’t
+going to find her on what remained of his time, money, and drinking
+capacity. He started home and Laura slipped out of his mind.</p>
+
+<p>It certainly wasn’t accidental—his meeting with Soleri. Soleri had
+been looking for him. But why? How had he known where to look? Talbot
+couldn’t concentrate solidly on the problem. It was all he could do to
+figure out where the street was going to sway to next.</p>
+
+<p>One thing was certain. He’d have a lot of questions to ask Soleri in
+the morning.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="II">
+    II
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Talbot dressed numbly. It was early, damned early, and his head
+throbbed. Aside from the physical discomfort involved he didn’t mind a
+hangover. He was more sensitive when he hung one on.</p>
+
+<p>He was going to need that sensitivity when he talked to Soleri.</p>
+
+<p>The man had a pretty phenomenal empathy index himself—say about 0.95.
+The more he thought about it the more certain he became that it must
+be at least 0.95. The executive had displayed uncanny acumen the night
+before.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot swung a rack out of the closet and automatically selected
+a light conservative suit. Soleri would expect him to dress
+conservatively. He didn’t care what Soleri thought, but it was a matter
+of pride with him to fit neatly into any situation.</p>
+
+<p>He dialed a cup of coffee, and then on second thought changed it to two
+cups, and gulped both of them. He studied his reflection in the mirror.
+It would do. He was the perfect picture of the successful executive.
+All he lacked was success.</p>
+
+<p>He resisted the impulse to phone Laura. He was convinced she wouldn’t
+answer at seven in the morning. Probably she wouldn’t answer later in
+the day. Maybe in a week he’d call her <i>after</i> he got the job with
+TRANSPORTATION.</p>
+
+<p>He went down and hailed an aircab which took him to the far side
+of the city. He alighted and read for the third or fourth time the
+instructions Soleri had written on the card. He located the entrance
+without difficulty and went in. Normally, he supposed, there would be a
+receptionist in the lobby. He didn’t see one. It was not important, for
+Soleri had cleared the way for him.</p>
+
+<p>He ascended three flights of stairs, walked around a turn at the
+corridor, and there he was—in front of Soleri’s office. It would be
+just his luck to find that he had arrived too early. But there was
+definitely someone in the office. He conquered his trepidation and went
+in.</p>
+
+<p>Soleri smiled and came toward him from behind the desk. His hand was
+extended and he was laughing. It was friendly laughter, and Talbot
+could sense the friendliness. But he was unemployed, and for that
+reason he resented it.</p>
+
+<p>“My God,” said Soleri. “If we looked anything alike we’d be twins.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot stared intently, reviewing and adding to his original
+impressions of the other. They were within an inch and a pound of each
+other. Moreover they now wore identical suits and identical shoes and
+if there was a difference in their ties and shirts, it would have taken
+an expert to detect it. Talk about empathy! Soleri really had it.</p>
+
+<p>But actually they didn’t resemble each other at all. Soleri’s hair was
+black, and Talbot’s was brown. Soleri’s eyes were dark, Talbot’s gray.
+Viewed from the back with a hat on they were indistinguishable. But
+face to face no one could have mistaken one for the other.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s an impressive trick,” Soleri chuckled. “If you’re trying to
+convince me you’re good—relax. I believe it.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not trying to convince you of anything,” said Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>Soleri looked at him keenly. “You probably aren’t,” he said. “It ties
+in.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot blinked. “Are you saying it’s <i>my</i> empathy? One point four
+or five isn’t <i>that</i> good. Your own index must be zero point
+ninety-five.”</p>
+
+<p>“How did you know?” said Soleri. “I never told you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why—” began Talbot, and stopped. How <i>had</i>, he known? It was one
+thing to think you knew, quite another to be always right. Something
+was startlingly out of place.</p>
+
+<p>Empathy measurements started in adolescence. Before then the body was
+in a state of flux. It was still building, exploring. It did not have
+the experience on which to base valid opinions.</p>
+
+<p>The adolescent was primarily aware of himself. He scarcely knew why
+he thought and felt the way he did, and had no time to encompass the
+emotions of others. But as he matured and some of his own problems
+became settled, an increasing awareness grew in him. He became better
+able to anticipate and participate in the feelings of others. Not
+merely to react to them, but to feel them as if they were his own.</p>
+
+<p>After adolescence the ability to identify with others continued to
+increase—rapidly at first, and then more slowly. Plotted out as age
+against understanding, the curve resembled an hyperbola reaching for
+the asymptote.</p>
+
+<p>Soleri smiled. “I see you’ve figured it out for yourself. We don’t
+think you’re usual either. A test will decide the matter.”</p>
+
+<p>“The test can come later. Who’s ‘we’?”</p>
+
+<p>“Myself and Randy, my secretary.”</p>
+
+<p>Inwardly Talbot sighed. He could hardly blame the guy. With a secretary
+like that he couldn’t picture himself spending much time in an office
+either. Evidently Soleri and Randy didn’t. No doubt Soleri would claim
+that last night’s meeting had come under the heading of business as
+usual.</p>
+
+<p>“Another thing,” he said. “How did you know I’d be at that bar?”</p>
+
+<p>Soleri shook his head in humorous resignation. “You don’t let much get
+by you. To be wholly frank, that’s why we want you. Well, if you must
+know, we called your apartment several times in the last few days. You
+were never home. So we put plant protection on you. It’s outside their
+normal jurisdiction, but they learned your habits quickly enough.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t like to be snooped at,” protested Talbot. “I don’t even know
+how you got my name.”</p>
+
+<p>“That one’s easy,” said Soleri. “Several years ago you filed an
+application with us. I looked it over recently. I’m a mathematician—an
+amateur but fairly good. I decided that if you’d put down the various
+empathy measurements correctly you might be better than you thought.
+Over a short portion of the curve, you know, a cubic or another
+equation can resemble an hyperbola. After Randy gets here we’ll see.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot nodded. He could accept that. It helped to explain why he’d had
+so much trouble. People resented his competition. The thought gave him
+confidence, and he reached out easily for the next conclusion.</p>
+
+<p>“But you’re not being altruistic about this,” he said. “I may have an
+index of zero point nine, better than yours, way at the top of the
+executive class. But for all you know I may have no knowledge, no
+subject matter in my head.” He paused to formulate the thought clearly.
+“You want me for something else. Specifically you’re in trouble.”</p>
+
+<p>“We may not need that test. But we’ll take it anyway,” said Soleri.
+“Yes, it’s trouble. Do you want to see if you can tell me what it is?”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot didn’t so much think as contact Soleri’s personality. He knew
+that atomic energy was advanced and with it almost any degree of
+temperature could be attained. And the hotter the exhaust, every other
+factor being equal, the faster the rocket. He allowed the thought to
+float closer.</p>
+
+<p>“The technical problem is liners,” he said. “You’ve got to have
+something that won’t be melted or eroded by the exhaust.”</p>
+
+<p>“True,” said Soleri. “Metal or ceramics won’t do—not at the
+temperatures we’re working with. We have made certain mathematical
+investigations which indicate there <i>is</i> a solution. Metal plus
+certain energy states might turn the trick.</p>
+
+<p>“We can discuss techniques later. It’s sufficient for now that we’ve
+narrowed it down to a matter of trial and error. The rest should be
+easy enough: a million or so experiments and we’ll have it. We’ve hired
+the best brains in the field, and you can be sure we haven’t spared
+time or money. Only we aren’t making progress. The perfect rocket motor
+should drive us at—or near—the speed of light. We’re nowhere near
+that.”</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Talbot leaned on the desk. “Competition?” he asked thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>Soleri smiled painfully. “Perhaps. We’re big, but we’re not the only
+company after the motor. The difficulty arises from the fact that
+there’s nothing definite we can point to as wrong. If there was, plant
+protection would find the person or persons responsible and put an end
+to the obstruction in short order. What happens is simply this. Costly
+experiments have one insignificant detail wrong, and blow up or fail to
+function at all. Elaborate computations have one decimal point moved
+and it takes a month to locate the impediment. Who’s behind it? What
+official or worker is out to sabotage us? That’s what we’re trying to
+discover.”</p>
+
+<p>“Did it ever occur to you that the perfect rocket motor may be an
+illusion? Perhaps it can’t be built.”</p>
+
+<p>“We have Frescura to say otherwise. Rocket construction is his life’s
+work. Other experts in the field agree with him—though they are not
+always able to follow his theoretical explanations.”</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t argue with them,” said Talbot. He glanced uneasily at the door
+of the office. A breeze was blowing it open slightly. “I see now why
+you wanted me to come so early. It was to make sure I wouldn’t be seen?”</p>
+
+<p>“Right,” Soleri said. “I wanted to explain the situation and have you
+leave before the regular shift gets here. I’ll make arrangements for
+the test to be given outside the plant. When you come back you’ll
+be hired through regular channels. That way there’ll be no apparent
+connection with me. You’ll simply be given a position in the shop. It
+will be high enough to enable you to meet everyone, but it won’t be so
+top-level that you’ll be prevented from mingling freely.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not sure I’m interested,” said Talbot. “If I’m as good as you
+think I am—why should I take a job like that?”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s temporary, don’t you see? With your degree of empathy you can
+track down the trouble without arousing suspicion. After that we’ll
+put you where you belong. And your salary will be scaled to your test
+rating from the beginning, regardless of your workshop status. How does
+that sound to you?”</p>
+
+<p>“Forthright,” said Talbot. “And quite generous.” He didn’t like to
+snoop any better than he liked being snooped at. But he’d listen.</p>
+
+<p>“Randy’s due any moment,” said Soleri. “Let’s see that employment card
+again.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot reached for his wallet. The container the card was in didn’t
+detach easily. He opened it, and handed the wallet to Soleri.</p>
+
+<p>Soleri examined the card with interest. He made a rough sketch of it
+on paper, plotting the points of the series of tests and joining them
+with a free-hand curve. He was so intent on the task that he failed to
+notice that the office door had opened the width of a man’s hand.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot wouldn’t have noticed either, had he not turned at that precise
+instant to get a better view of the sketch and seen the hand in the
+crack. The hand threw a small dark object on the floor, then whipped
+back quickly. The door closed.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot’s reactions were good but not good enough. He jogged Soleri’s
+elbow. “What’s that?” he said uneasily, indicating the object.</p>
+
+<p>It was round and dark, hard to distinguish on the floor. It took Soleri
+a second to see it—a second too long. “Get down,” he shouted, shoving
+Talbot behind the desk.</p>
+
+<p>The action threw Soleri offbalance and he fell the wrong way. He
+scrambled frantically for the protection of the desk but only his hand
+with the wallet still in it reached the merciful shadow.</p>
+
+<p>A chaotic sound echoed somewhere near Talbot. He’d never heard anything
+like it. He didn’t have time to wonder where it came from because it
+was followed by another louder sound.</p>
+
+<p>Instinctively he closed his eyes as an incandescent sheet of flame
+whipped across the room. It was accompanied by a vast thermal
+concussion which blotted out all sound. Take a tiny piece of the
+interior of the Sun—not the center, but somewhere between that and
+the visible outer portion—and wrap it with unimaginable insulation.
+Transport it to an office and strip away the covering in a microsecond.
+Within a limited area the explosion was even more frightful than that.</p>
+
+<p>At first the desk shielded Talbot. In the intolerable light paint
+and pictures were burned from the wall. Chairs disappeared and the
+fireproof floor bubbled and vaporized. By the time the thick steel and
+thermoplastic desk collapsed in ashes around Talbot’s body the tiny
+speck of matter had dissipated most of its energy and there was only
+fire to fear.</p>
+
+<p>Clouds of steam came from the ceiling as the sprinkler system went into
+action. It didn’t function well because most of it had been melted away
+in the first blast. Nevertheless water gushed out and turned to steam.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot struggled to get out. But he was badly burned. Steam and smoke
+were searing his lungs, and a section of the ceiling had peeled off and
+fallen on his legs, pinning him to the floor. He saw a hand, all that
+was left of Soleri, clutching the wallet. And then he couldn’t breathe,
+couldn’t see or feel anything at all.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="III">
+    III
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>A dim, slender figure swirled dizzily in front of him. He hoped she
+was a nurse, but he could only see the flowing whiteness of her as she
+moved to the door. “You can come in, Miss Farrell,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Farrell came in. She was better known to Talbot as Randy, and
+close up she was even more breathtaking than when he had first seen
+her. His vision was steadying a little now.</p>
+
+<p>“Just a few minutes—not longer,” the nurse cautioned.</p>
+
+<p>Randy sat down beside him, touching his face lightly. He could feel
+the gentle pressure of her fingers through the bandages. “Don’t try to
+talk,” she said. “I’ll say everything that has to be said. And it won’t
+take long.”</p>
+
+<p>He blinked in grateful understanding. It wasn’t a wholly satisfactory
+form of communication, but her nearness soothed him.</p>
+
+<p>“We haven’t found out how that thermal capsule got there,” she said.
+“We know it was hot, however. It had a temperature of at least a half
+million degrees, despite its extreme smallness. After you get well
+enough to talk freely we’ll try to reconstruct what happened.”</p>
+
+<p>He nodded slightly, and the effort sent a wave of pain coursing through
+him.</p>
+
+<p>“So much for that,” she said. “You’ll get well. There won’t even be
+scars. You’re lucky. Did you know it?”</p>
+
+<p>He knew it. But he knew also that it wasn’t <i>only</i> luck. Soleri
+had saved his life at the expense of his own.</p>
+
+<p>Then she said an incredible thing. “All we found of the other poor
+devil was his lower arm. The card was still clutched in his hand. It
+was scorched but not burned. I gave it to one of our mathematicians and
+he has worked out two curves that might fit. The man was everything you
+said he was—and more. I wish he’d lived.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot closed his eyes in stunned protest. She was making a mistake, a
+crazy utterly incomprehensible mistake. He tried to tell her—but there
+was only a gurgle in his throat.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t bat your eyes at me,” she said in mock reproof. “It’s true. The
+lowest empathy index registered is zero point eight. Right? Well, this
+man was zero point five. The mathematician couldn’t be sure, but he
+<i>thought</i> it might be even lower.”</p>
+
+<p>She brushed the hair away from her lovely eyes. “Perhaps I should have
+kept it to myself. No one could possibly have the index the curve
+indicated. There are limits to human credulity.”</p>
+
+<p>Again he tried to tell her that it was Soleri who had died. Soleri!
+But the bandages were too tight and his weakness too overwhelming.</p>
+
+<p>But how could she have made such a mistake? True, he’d been wearing
+the same clothing as Soleri and the dead man had been clutching his
+employment card. But a woman who had been close to Soleri, who had seen
+him every day, would surely know—</p>
+
+<p>She leaned over, brushing her lips against his eyes. “Don’t worry,” she
+said. “I disposed of the remains—and put him on the payroll. Roving
+assignment, reporting only to you. After six months we can arrange to
+make it appear that he was killed in an accident.”</p>
+
+<p>His eyes! She’d known Soleri well enough to remember that the dead
+man’s eyes were dark, not gray. Women were never in error about things
+like that. He blinked frantically, but she failed to draw the correct
+conclusion.</p>
+
+<p>“Why six months?” she smiled. “Because I have the company’s interest
+at heart. Otherwise we’d have to pay the full death benefit. If he’s
+on the payroll after six months the insurance company must assume the
+responsibility. His salary will be much less than the death benefit.
+He’s dead. Nothing we can do will bring him back. We may as well save
+some money.”</p>
+
+<p>The logic was acceptable, but she had the wrong man. He groaned in
+frustration and the sound escaped as a muffled protest from his
+tortured and burned throat.</p>
+
+<p>Instantly the nurse reappeared.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all, Miss Farrell. He’ll rest better for knowing what happened.
+But I think you’ve told him enough.”</p>
+
+<p>Randy bent over. “Everything’s all right,” she whispered. “Get well.”</p>
+
+<p>And then the nurse found an unbandaged region on his right shoulder and
+jabbed him. He ceased to feel or hear anything.</p>
+
+<p>It was that way for the next few days, a dim and shadowy routine which
+he was vaguely and occasionally aware of. From time to time he felt
+stronger but the nurse had a needle ready and always used it. They
+intended to make certain that he did not prematurely exert himself.</p>
+
+<p>Finally a day came when the nurse wasn’t there. It had apparently been
+decided that he was ready to rejoin the living. He lay motionless on
+the bed, staring down at his folded arms. His right hand was bandaged;
+his left was not. He raised both hands to his face. The bandages were
+fewer, lighter than before.</p>
+
+<p>Sooner or later, he told himself, the bandages would have to come
+off. Then what? Then the truth would be known to everyone. Still, he
+wasn’t in an enviable position. He had gone at such an early hour to
+Soleri’s office that no one had seen him. He had only Soleri’s word as
+to his honesty of purpose—and Soleri was dead. Randy had made things
+worse with her silly attempt to hush things up. He was in a serious
+mess—and had no way of knowing what was going to come out of it.</p>
+
+<p>He got up shakily. He had made up his mind. He must leave the hospital.
+He knew it was foolish, but that didn’t stop him. He swung his legs
+over the side of the bed and found to his relief that he could stand.
+He teetered precariously for an instant and then stood upright.</p>
+
+<p>There was a closet on the opposite side of the room. He wobbled toward
+it, wrenched the door open. It contained a robe but no clothes. As he
+braced himself in the doorway he caught sight of his face in the mirror
+on the back of the door. His brow was gleaming with perspiration and
+his eyes glittered darkly in the expanse of white. The bandages would
+have to come off.</p>
+
+<p>It was painful but not as bad as he had thought it might be. He found
+an edge and pried at the masklike plaster. The bandages came off in one
+piece. His raw skin burned as air came in contact with it. It stung and
+burned, but he scarcely noticed the pain.</p>
+
+<p>He stared at his reflection.</p>
+
+<p>Now he knew what Randy had refused to tell him because she didn’t
+believe it herself. The empathy index of the man she supposed dead was
+not zero point five. It was much less than that.</p>
+
+<p>It was zero.</p>
+
+<p>And zero was identity.</p>
+
+<p>The face looking back at him was not that of Hal Talbot. It was Evan
+Soleri. It was Evan Soleri even to the dark eyes and the stubble of
+black hair that was beginning to grow in on his burned scalp.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot or Soleri, he went back to bed.</p>
+
+<p>He lay very still. His mind raced back, to the scene in the office.
+He had <i>thought</i> there were two sounds, the strange one slightly
+before the thermal explosion. But the first had not been a sound at
+all. He knew that now. It was Evan Soleri’s mental reaction to the
+approach of death. No one else could have heard it—no one except a
+man whose empathy index was zero. It was the crisis that had brought
+out his latent ability. He had responded by recreating himself as the
+identity of a person a microsecond removed from extinction.</p>
+
+<p>He had done this successfully—but what came next?</p>
+
+<p>He had been thinking of escape. It was no longer possible. As far as
+his immediate future was concerned he <i>was</i> Evan Soleri. He might
+be able to prove otherwise. But it could be a dangerous undertaking.
+They might think he’d had his face surgically altered with the
+deliberate, prior intention of replacing Soleri.</p>
+
+<p>Besides—well, he had liked Soleri. Without a second’s thought Soleri
+had given his life for a man he hardly knew. Quite possibly the person
+who had tossed in the thermal bomb had meant to kill Talbot. But he
+owed the unknown assassin something for that too.</p>
+
+<p>His face hardened. In his new identity as Soleri he was in the
+best possible position to track down the assailant. Soleri had been
+powerful, wealthy, the head of the research department. The place to
+begin was right here, where it had started. He’d be Soleri.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot-Soleri rang for the nurse. He’d been inactive long enough. He
+had no very definite plans, but he’d take care of things as they came
+up. The nurse came in. She stared at him in consternation.</p>
+
+<p>“You are not supposed to sit up,” she said. “And you must have been mad
+to take those bandages off. Here, I’ll put them back.”</p>
+
+<p>He scowled at her, and she didn’t come near. “Get Miss Farrell,” he
+said. “Tell her I must see her at once.”</p>
+
+<p>“The doctor gave strict orders that you’re not to be disturbed,” said
+the nurse hesitantly. She paled as he returned her stare, for there was
+a dangerous light in his eyes.</p>
+
+<p>“Get her,” he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>When Randy entered the room there was a moment of complete silence. She
+seemed stunned by his aspect of well-being.</p>
+
+<p>“The miracle of medicine,” he said dryly. “Randy, I want to look over
+the personnel records of everyone in the department. Please get them
+and bring them to me here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Everything?” She looked at him in amazement. “You went over the
+technical staff last week.”</p>
+
+<p>“It doesn’t matter,” he told her. “I’ve got some ideas I want to tie
+down.” That was true, of course, but mostly he wanted to make sure he
+wouldn’t slip up on anyone he was supposed to recognize. He’d get by
+anyway, naturally. He could always claim a slight loss of memory due to
+shock. But such a claim wouldn’t inspire confidence—and he didn’t want
+anyone to become suspicious.</p>
+
+<p>“While you’re at it bring the office staff too,” he added. There was
+one person he’d have to know as much about as possible. Much of it
+wouldn’t be in any file. But he’d worry about the intangibles later.</p>
+
+<p>Randy plainly thought his request was foolish, but she complied. Soon
+files were wheeled to his bedside. That was the nice thing about being
+a big wheel in a big company, and no pun intended. Everything was
+handy. Even the hospital was inside the plant.</p>
+
+<p>But there were also disadvantages. The company was so big that
+there was a lot to learn. Still, he had to begin somewhere. Randy
+undoubtedly thought some of his requests were strange, but she brought
+what he asked for. Though not eidetic, his memory was good. He began
+industriously to absorb the information. Names, faces, facts and
+diagrams settled firmly in his mind.</p>
+
+<p>It was a lengthy, painful process. Sometimes he became confused as to
+his actual identity. Was he Talbot or Soleri? The thought occurred to
+him that he might never be able to step out of the character he had
+consciously as well as unconsciously assumed.</p>
+
+<p>There was no data on what might happen to him. None at all.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="IV">
+    IV
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>On the day of his discharge his skin was still tender but the burns had
+healed. He felt weak but that was not surprising in view of the number
+of days he had spent in bed. The department managed without him and
+when difficulties developed he relayed brief orders through Randy. She
+was his buffer. He didn’t want to take part in running the plant until
+he had more insight on Soleri.</p>
+
+<p>He learned many things, but there were technicalities to be mastered
+which he was sure he could pick up faster on the outside. The doctor
+wanted to send a nurse with him but he refused, finally consenting to
+have Randy accompany him. Perhaps he was taking a needless risk. But he
+was convinced he could handle Randy.</p>
+
+<p>It was dark when they left the factory hospital, and took the
+elevator to the roof. He leaned on Randy somewhat more than he had
+to. It was a pleasure and a distraction. But he remained on his guard
+notwithstanding.</p>
+
+<p>Randy was not a secretary at all. The files had revealed that much.
+Soleri had been so anxious to find out what was holding up the project
+that he had hired a first-rate psychologist and had put her in a
+position where she could work without being suspected. The psychologist
+was Randy. She wouldn’t fool easy. And that, in a sense, was a
+challenge. If he could get by her he could convince anyone.</p>
+
+<p>An aircab was waiting. He leaned very close to her as she helped him
+in. He was almost sure that his empathy should tell him something and
+it did. Her eyes darkened, and she became obviously disturbed by his
+nearness. He settled back in the cab and waited.</p>
+
+<p>The driver turned about, and asked: “Where to?”</p>
+
+<p>He pretended not to hear. The driver repeated the question and Randy
+gave him the address. The information itself didn’t tell him much but
+his sensitivity filled in the missing details. She had been to the
+apartment many times, and stayed late.</p>
+
+<p>They didn’t talk much on the way. The cab flitted over the city
+lights with a steady droning. He became uneasy. She too was sensing a
+strangeness in him. He regretted his decision to have her accompany
+him, and resolved to send her home as soon as he could reasonably do so.</p>
+
+<p>They landed on the roof of a tall apartment building. She paid the
+driver and told him not to wait. No chance for subtlety there.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m quite all right,” he said as she helped him out. “It was just a
+momentary touch of dizziness.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know,” she said. “But you’re not going to get away. I intend to
+make sure you’re all right.” And that was that.</p>
+
+<p>Soleri’s apartment was on the twentieth floor. It was elaborate and
+large, and furnished with exquisite taste. He approved of Soleri’s
+taste—in more than one respect. He sat down and looked it over.</p>
+
+<p>“Glad to be back?” she asked.</p>
+
+<p>He nodded.</p>
+
+<p>“Sit and rest. I’ll punch dinner. Anything special?”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing special. Whatever you want.” She touched his arm as she went
+into the kitchen. He wished she hadn’t. He had enough to contend with
+without that.</p>
+
+<p>Presently she came back. “We’ll have something light and nourishing in
+a few minutes,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>She went to the recording system and began examining the calls that had
+come in during Soleri’s absence. He had to remind himself that it was
+an absence. Officially Soleri hadn’t died.</p>
+
+<p>He watched her intently. He wished her eyes weren’t brown and wonderful.</p>
+
+<p>“Anything important?” he said with an effort.</p>
+
+<p>“A message from Andrew Taft. I told him you were hurt but not badly. He
+wants you to visit him next week.”</p>
+
+<p>Andrew Taft was president of TRANSPORTATION. Everyone knew that.
+But there wasn’t anything in the files to give him a lead as to the
+duration or extent of their friendship. Perhaps Soleri had known Taft
+from boyhood. He didn’t want to put his newly acquired personality to
+such a severe test before he could be more certain of the facts.</p>
+
+<p>“Make an excuse for me,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him inquiringly. “Do you think you should? Eleanor will
+be there. She heard about the accident and is coming in from Mars.”</p>
+
+<p>He might have known there would be some such complication. Soleri was a
+powerful and attractive man and there had been more than one woman in
+his life. It was another unexpected pitfall, a further challenge to his
+wariness. He grimaced. “Eleanor’s a nice girl but she means nothing to
+me,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Oh?” Randy’s lips tightened. “Is that why you’re going to marry her?”</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>At the moment he hated Soleri, empathy or not. If it had been at all
+possible he would have dropped the pretense. But he couldn’t—and he
+had to depend solely on his abnormal sensitivity. He told Randy what
+she <i>wanted</i> to hear.</p>
+
+<p>“You know how it is,” he said blandly. “I’ve got to get that motor
+built. It’s costing far more than we expected. Somebody’s got to play
+company politics.”</p>
+
+<p>She seemed a trifle mollified. “You needn’t tell me. I’ve had a
+thorough grounding in business psychology.” She moved quickly past him.
+“Dinner’s ready,” she said. “You’ve got to build up your strength—for
+company politics.”</p>
+
+<p>He would have preferred silence but Randy insisted on holding up both
+ends of the conversation. Nothing important was discussed, but it gave
+him a chance to break down her defenses, and get to know her better.</p>
+
+<p>After dinner they sat over a drink, and talked. Much of his empathy was
+tied up in the difficult task of simply duplicating Soleri. He couldn’t
+get through to her with the accuracy he would have liked. But he did
+succeed in turning the conversation from Eleanor. She was willing.
+After the first flash of hatred she was completely willing to forget
+the girl existed.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at the clock. “Time for bed,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>It was awkward. He started to get up, avoiding her eyes. “I guess so,”
+he said, letting her assist him, thrilled by her nearness.</p>
+
+<p>There was nothing else he could do. She was attractive and he wanted
+her for himself. But she was desperately and unhappily in love with
+Soleri. He couldn’t let her know.</p>
+
+<p>“Randy,” he whispered softly as she clung to him. Laura seemed suddenly
+unreal and very far away, and he wished he’d never heard of Eleanor.</p>
+
+<p>Later he awakened to find her lying beside him, tense and still. She
+hadn’t been sleeping. In a surge of apprehension he wondered if she had
+discovered the truth about him.</p>
+
+<p>“Is anything the matter?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nothing? Is that why you’re not sleeping?”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, there is. I was thinking,” she said. “It was what I saw when I
+ran into the office right after the explosion. The smoke was very thick
+and you were lying behind what was left of the desk. For an instant I
+wondered which one of you had died.”</p>
+
+<p>“How could you tell?” he said. “I was badly burned. My face—”</p>
+
+<p>“Your eyes are brown,” she said. “Brown. Anyway I knew. You
+<i>couldn’t</i> die.”</p>
+
+<p>“Try to forget about it,” he said. “That nightmare is over. I’m alive.”</p>
+
+<p>“And so is Eleanor.”</p>
+
+<p>He sighed, wishing again that he could tell her everything. But Soleri
+would never deny the romance-shattering reality that stood between
+them. “You’ve always known about her.”</p>
+
+<p>“So I have.” She moved closer to him. “I’m content with this brief
+dream of happiness.”</p>
+
+<p>That was better. He caressed her lightly, tenderly. “It’s all right,”
+he said soothingly. “Nothing has changed between us.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know, darling,” she murmured. He thought he heard her laugh before
+she went to sleep.</p>
+
+<p>At last he fell asleep.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="V">
+    V
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>For the next few days Talbot was feverishly busy. Just what inner
+drives had dominated Soleri and how would he have reacted to any given
+situation? What had been his precise relationships with the people
+Talbot would be meeting daily? Fortunately there was an accumulation
+of recorded calls and messages. He played and re-played them. He
+subscribed to a clipping service and pieced together a fairly complete
+account of Soleri’s social activities.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>There were other rewarding sources. He scanned minutes of
+TRANSPORTATION meetings. He examined financial statements to give
+himself another sidelight on the life he had usurped. Pictures,
+letters—even the apartment—added to his growing knowledge.</p>
+
+<p>Handwriting presented no difficulty. He found Soleri’s signature, and
+duplicated it on second trial. Soon he didn’t even have to try—it
+became second nature to him to forge Soleri’s name on letters and
+documents. Mannerisms came easily too. Ways of walking, the quick
+thoughtful smile that appeared at intervals, the clothes he wore and
+how he wore them—-all these distinguishing characteristics he copied
+with little conscious effort. He was as much Soleri as another person
+could be.</p>
+
+<p>He rested and regained his strength, painstakingly sharpening himself
+until he was ready. Randy appeared frequently on the call plate,
+keeping him informed of what went on at the plant. But she didn’t
+return to the apartment. He would have rejoiced in her presence but he
+didn’t ask her. It would have meant taking a dangerous, unnecessary
+risk.</p>
+
+<p>Finally he went back to work, nodding cheerfully to the receptionist in
+the outer office as he turned left at the stairs. There was no trace of
+damage in his private office. It had been rebuilt and refurnished and
+was now exactly as he remembered it.</p>
+
+<p>Randy came in at once, cool and beautiful. “I told Frescura you’d like
+to see him,” she said. “He’ll be in his lab until noon.”</p>
+
+<p>Frescura, the famous heat and rocket scientist! He’d have to handle
+that interview with care. He had no way of knowing how much technical
+information the man had imparted to Soleri.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll see him but I hadn’t planned on it until later,” he said. It was
+a false statement, but there was no need to take her completely into
+his confidence.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m sorry,” she said with feigned meekness. “I was trying to
+anticipate.”</p>
+
+<p>He knew that she was actively hating him for Eleanor. He’d have to find
+some way to ease the tension. But at the moment other problems loomed
+more urgently. He became expediently stern.</p>
+
+<p>“Forget the secretarial pose,” he growled. “You’re a psychologist.
+Your job is to find out who is resorting to deliberate sabotage in the
+plant. What does plant protection say about the thermal bomb?”</p>
+
+<p>She met his gaze candidly. “Nothing. Anyone at all might have had
+access to the hall.”</p>
+
+<p>“Then we’ll have to work at it from the other end,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>She laid a sheaf of papers on his desk. He knew they were documents
+of no great importance. “Shall I tell Frescura you won’t be out?” she
+asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll see him,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>She looked at him oddly, and turned to go.</p>
+
+<p>“Randy.”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes?”</p>
+
+<p>He didn’t know exactly what to say, so he tried it out for sound. “I
+still want to find out why we’re not getting the motor. But it’s more
+than simple sabotage now. A man was killed—a man I regarded as a
+friend, even though I didn’t know him well. We’ve got to find out who
+is responsible. That comes first. Do you understand?”</p>
+
+<p>Her wonderful brown eyes regarded him steadily. She turned away. “I
+understand,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“Keep it in mind,” he said. He got up and went to see Frescura.</p>
+
+<p>Fred Frescura was a big man with more hair on his face than on his
+head. He was nearly bald but his eyebrows and mustache were thick and
+black. He had an air of concentration and childlike enjoyment of his
+work. Neither impression, decided Talbot, was strictly accurate.</p>
+
+<p>He crumpled a sheet of calculations as Talbot came in, and moved out
+from behind the desk. “I’m glad to see you,” he said gruffly. “For a
+while we weren’t sure whether you’d been cremated in the holocaust.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was more like an inferno,” said Talbot. “I survived.”</p>
+
+<p>“So I see,” said Frescura. “I tried to get to the hospital but Randy
+wouldn’t let me in. For three days she camped in the corridor.”</p>
+
+<p>“She takes excellent care of me,” acknowledged Talbot. He glanced at
+the desk and suddenly turned pale.</p>
+
+<p>Frescura laughed reassuringly. “Don’t worry. These capsules are
+harmless or <i>I</i> wouldn’t be here.” He picked up a few of the tiny
+black cylinders and juggled them casually. “I was just attempting a
+reconstruction. What size was the thermal capsule which you saw?”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot touched the spheres gingerly. They were jet-black and
+fathomlessly unreflective. “This, I think,” he said. “Or possibly this.”</p>
+
+<p>Frescura laid five of the capsules down, rolling the other two in
+his hand. “I’m afraid that doesn’t help much,” he said at last. “It
+depends, you see, on how thick the covering was, and we can only guess
+at that. Let’s say the temperature was over a hundred thousand degrees.”</p>
+
+<p>The temperature didn’t interest Talbot. He didn’t care by how much he’d
+nearly been vaporized. “Why don’t we use capsule material like this?”
+he said. “It ought to make a good tube liner.”</p>
+
+<p>Frescura’s brows seemed to thicken and grow larger. “Are you seriously
+suggesting that I start my experiments from the beginning? Four years
+ago I told you we couldn’t use it. Now you act as if it’s something
+new.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot got out of the dilemma hastily. He regretted that he had not
+spent more time on the technical aspects. He’d tried to be thorough,
+but failures were never recorded as thoroughly as triumphs.</p>
+
+<p>“It’s a thought,” he said, hoping the remark would pass for executive
+stubbornness. “Maybe we overlooked something.”</p>
+
+<p>“Maybe we <i>didn’t</i>,” growled Frescura. “The thinnest skin we can
+make will hold a piece of matter at a hundred thousand degrees for
+ten minutes. If we make it two inches thick it will last twenty-nine
+minutes and fourteen seconds. Constructed out of this a liner that
+would do us any good would be a quarter mile in diameter at its widest
+section. Is that practical?”</p>
+
+<p>“You might look into it again. You may have some new ideas,” said
+Talbot. He had avoided stumbling badly—and he’d learned something,
+although he should have known it in advance. The thermal bomb had been
+made in the plant. He looked up quickly. “Just when did the technicians
+arrive that morning? How many were in early?”</p>
+
+<p>“I went over that,” said Frescura. “So did plant protection. At least
+fifty men were asked in ahead of their shift. Several came in without
+being asked. But none of them were near your office.”</p>
+
+<p>It was puzzling and significant. Soleri had been in charge for years
+with no attempt on his life <i>until he, Talbot, had been brought
+in</i>.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot filed the fact away for future reference. Someone had known
+Talbot was going to come in that morning. Soleri had made it plain that
+Randy knew. But who else?</p>
+
+<p>Whom besides Randy had Soleri talked to? He couldn’t ask, but it was
+of vital importance. Whoever it was he had carefully manufactured the
+bomb in the laboratory, calculating the time by the thickness of the
+skin. That somebody had stuffed the capsule in his pocket and gone to
+Soleri’s office. When only a few seconds remained, he had rolled it
+through the door, giving himself just enough time to escape. But who
+was he? Talbot had no idea.</p>
+
+<p>He discussed the thermal bomb for a moment or two and then switched to
+the progress on the motor. He listened to Frescura, who was more than
+willing to talk. Soon, unless he could slide out of the invitation, he
+was going to have to answer some far more pointed questions from Taft.</p>
+
+<p>Still discussing high, very high, and stellar temperature chemistry,
+they went into the main experimental shop. This gave Talbot the
+opportunity of meeting the men he was supposed to have worked with for
+several years. There was a great difference between a picture and a
+page of statistics—even psychologically loaded statistics—and the
+man himself. He did a creditable job of imitating Soleri as he spoke
+to them. He had gone a long way toward merging with the dead man’s
+personality. But there was always an incalculable risk involved in
+anything he might say or do.</p>
+
+<p>Frescura stopped expectantly beside a large construction site
+enclosure. “This is the latest,” he said in a hushed voice.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot looked at the work in progress critically. He was still at sea
+as to its more technical aspects. “Is this the project we were working
+on before the accident?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“Not exactly,” Frescura replied. “I’ve mentioned the theory before. But
+the application is new.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot was relieved. He wouldn’t be expected to know much about it. “Go
+over it for my benefit,” he urged. “Quite a bit has happened in the
+interval.”</p>
+
+<p>Frescura glanced at him queerly, and he regretted having made the
+request. “You ought to remember this,” said the scientist. “Well,
+it’s off the mainline of our experiments, but I thought we might get
+some constructive results. We make the tube of dissimilar metals, one
+jacketing the other. When it is heated we get a thermocouple effect.
+An electric charge is generated. The charge on the inside of the tube
+repels the exhaust molecules so that they don’t actually come in
+contact with the inside surface. This reduces both heating and erosion.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot rubbed his head. “I remember. Is it ready to go?”</p>
+
+<p>“It is,” said Frescura grimly. “But don’t stand there unless you want
+another accident.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot got out of the way hastily. He was blundering in practically
+every statement he made. There was far more to a person than
+personality, or his outward appearance. In Talbot’s particular case
+knowledge was lacking—not textbook information, but intimate details
+that could be acquired only by working closely with the man he was
+impersonating. So far it hadn’t been serious. But he’d have to watch
+himself.</p>
+
+<p>Frescura moved a switch, and there was a rumble within the enclosure. A
+tiny, barely visible flame shot out a foot from where Talbot had been
+standing. The rumble rose to a shriek, and quickly passed beyond the
+range of hearing. The flame disappeared, but Talbot could still feel
+the heat.</p>
+
+<p>Frescura picked up a wrench and tossed it into the path of the exhaust.
+The instrument vanished and the huge curved backstop a hundred feet
+away was suddenly coated with a thin film of molten metal. Frescura
+grinned at him.</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve got to watch these things,” he said. He peered into an
+eyepiece on the enclosure, making several adjustments before he seemed
+satisfied. “Take a look,” he said to Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot looked, his eyes gradually growing accustomed to the intense
+light that passed through the dense filters. He could see the inside
+of the rocket tube, and the fierce incandescence shooting by. Actually
+none of the exhaust gasses touched the walls of the tube, for there
+was a static area an inch in thickness next to the wall where nothing
+seemed to penetrate.</p>
+
+<p>As he tried to see more clearly exactly what was happening the
+enclosure began to vibrate again, shaking the foundation. But the metal
+held. The shriek declined to a rumble and then the sound died away
+completely.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot blinked and straightened up. Frescura was jotting down
+readings from the instruments on the enclosure. He made a few quick
+calculations. “The test corresponds to a rocket speed of thirty
+thousand miles a second,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>It was a long way from what they wanted, but it was about fifteen
+times better than anything that had been attained before. “Not bad,”
+Talbot said, cautiously. “Maybe we should settle for this. One sixth
+the speed of light. Twenty-five years to the nearest star.”</p>
+
+<p>Frescura scowled at him. “Make it thirty,” he said. “They’ve got to get
+up speed and slow down. Thirty to the star and thirty back. Sixty years
+for the round trip, not counting exploration time.”</p>
+
+<p>“I understand,” Talbot said. “But with a young crew—boys not over
+twenty-two or three—it’s possible to send a ship to the nearest star
+and reasonably expect it to return.”</p>
+
+<p>“They’ll be eighty when they come back,” said Frescura. “Their friends
+will all be dead.”</p>
+
+<p>“There are some lads who will volunteer—if the rewards are high
+enough.”</p>
+
+<p>“No doubt,” said Frescura. “But there’s one detail which prevents
+it—building a rocket motor which will last for more than a few
+seconds.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve already accomplished a great deal,” said Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>“This?” Frescura laughed. “No good at all. You saw what just happened.”</p>
+
+<p>“I did. You shut off the motor.”</p>
+
+<p>Frescura looked at Talbot with sour amusement. “It was the automatics
+that cut off the flow of fuel. Didn’t you see it? The inner charge
+repelled matter, but it <i>couldn’t stop radiation</i>. Radiation
+heated the tube. As it grew hot beyond a certain temperature the
+thermocouple charge diminished, intensifying the heat transfer to the
+tube. When it went, it fell apart in a hurry.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot frowned. “There’s no way around it?”</p>
+
+<p>“None I know of. I’ll keep trying of course. With another hundred
+million dollars we might make this work even though it’s far from what
+we’re after.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot shook his head in admiration. Frescura tossed huge sums about
+with utmost ease. “Keep with it,” he said. “We’ve got to lick this or
+it will finish us.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’ll come out on top,” said Frescura optimistically.</p>
+
+<p>Unfortunately Talbot didn’t have the same confidence. “Economize where
+you can,” he cautioned.</p>
+
+<p>“There is no such thing as economy in research,” Frescura affirmed.</p>
+
+<p>“There had better be. We’re running low. Accounting is beginning to ask
+questions. We’ll have to go to the board of directors before long.”</p>
+
+<p>“I guess so. The accident cost plenty.” Frescura leaned against the
+enclosure, rubbing it with unconscious affection. “If you need help,
+let me know. I’ll add my weight to yours.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll let you know,” said Talbot as he walked away.</p>
+
+<p>The trouble with Frescura was that he was a theoretical scientist,
+completely indifferent to cost. As he went through the plant he saw
+countless examples of waste. There was endless duplication, and the
+place seemed overstaffed. But, though he could undoubtedly reduce costs
+with efficient administration, that was not the most vital problem.</p>
+
+<p>He had to locate and unmask a man who did not shrink from cold-blooded
+murder. It couldn’t have been Soleri. A successful saboteur would
+not have sought out Talbot to help him. Neither would he have killed
+himself. And it could not have been Randy. The trouble had begun long
+before she had been hired. It wasn’t Frescura, for he had not only
+initiated the project. He had pushed it through with all the influence
+at his command.</p>
+
+<p>Taft was still unaccounted for. But he was the president of the company
+and it was inconceivable that he would launch a criminal conspiracy
+against his own interests.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless Talbot made up his own mind. His extreme sensitivity was
+his most valuable weapon. He intended to find out just how far it would
+take him. He completed the tour of the plant and went back to the
+office.</p>
+
+<p>He called Randy, and immediately took up the problem of Taft. “I still
+haven’t answered his invitation,” he told her.</p>
+
+<p>Her eyes clouded. “I know,” she said. “I’ll notify the department heads
+that you won’t be in the plant for a few days—beginning Wednesday.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll be here,” he said. “I want you to dream up an excuse why I can’t
+go. Make it good. I trust your social sense.”</p>
+
+<p>“You can’t do that,” she protested. “Have you seen the latest statement
+from accounting?”</p>
+
+<p>“I have. We’ll need funds before long.”</p>
+
+<p>“You don’t turn down an invitation from the president when you may need
+his help.”</p>
+
+<p>“You do when there are graver issues at stake. I’ve got to begin
+somewhere. The top is a good place.”</p>
+
+<p>“A dangerous place,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“I’m not thinking about that.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’d better,” she said. “Unless—have you got a cushion?”</p>
+
+<p>“In a way,” he said. “Somebody wants this project to fail, badly enough
+kill anyone who stands in his way. Good, we’ll let it come close to
+failure. We’ll see if there is any attempt made to interfere—”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re the boss,” she shrugged.</p>
+
+<p>“I hope it works.”</p>
+
+<p>“It will.”</p>
+
+<p>He flung himself into his work for the remainder of the afternoon.
+Facts and figures went into his head and what came out was a reasonable
+duplication of what Soleri had known.</p>
+
+<p>He finished late. Most of the office force had gone home. A few
+technicians were working in the shop. Tired and numb he took an aircab.
+Twenty moments later he was letting himself into his apartment. He
+wasn’t imagining it. There was someone in the apartment. Still, Soleri
+would inevitably have visitors now and then. It was nothing to be
+afraid of. He went in.</p>
+
+<p>Randy smiled at him. “Hello, darling,” she said.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="VI">
+    VI
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>Frescura got up hastily as he heard Taft’s familiar voice in Randy’s
+office. “I’ll leave,” he said, folding the sheet Talbot had just signed.</p>
+
+<p>“Stick around,” Talbot urged. “I’m sure he wants to see you.” He hadn’t
+thought Taft would come so soon, but he was not at all displeased. He
+was equally grateful for Frescura’s presence, feeling confident that
+it would provoke some interesting reactions. But he was destined to be
+disappointed.</p>
+
+<p>Frescura wriggled his thick mustache. “I came up to ask Randy
+something. I’ll go talk to her. If Taft wants to see me he’ll come out
+to the lab.”</p>
+
+<p>“Suit yourself,” said Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>Frescura left. He could hear him conversing briefly with Taft in
+Randy’s office before Taft came in.</p>
+
+<p>Andrew Taft was not the lean graying figure so familiar to the newscast
+public. He was tall, but he was also considerably heavier than he
+appeared to be on the screen. Distinguished citizens had certain
+prerogatives, and the networks saw to it that the lighting dealt kindly
+with them.</p>
+
+<p>“Sorry about the party,” Taft said on entering. “I flew up to try to
+persuade you to change your mind.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot shook hands, using his most cautious Soleri approach. “You know
+how it is,” he said in half-apology. “I’ve fallen behind since the
+tragedy. I’ve got to dig my way out.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ve worried about you,” said Taft. “So has Eleanor.” He glanced up
+quickly. “Your insistence on shunning social engagements doesn’t have
+anything to do with her, does it?”</p>
+
+<p>“It doesn’t,” Talbot assured him.</p>
+
+<p>“South Africa may be a nice place to live. But it’s quite a distance.
+And I really am in a mess here.”</p>
+
+<p>“Nonsense. You can fly there in a few hours,” said Taft.</p>
+
+<p>“Eight,” Talbot reminded him. “Service isn’t good to that part of the
+globe.”</p>
+
+<p>“You can cut the time in half if you charter a direct flight,” said
+Taft. “I suppose it would tire you out. But over-work can kill. You
+ought to call Eleanor. You know she won’t take the initiative.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot decided to risk a decisive move. “I’ll call her now,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“No, wait until I leave,” said Taft hastily. “I don’t want her to know
+I came to see you.”</p>
+
+<p>“Tonight then,” suggested Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>“Tonight’s fine,” said Taft. He chatted on inconsequentially for a
+time. Talbot could see that Soleri’s relationship with Eleanor’s
+family—though nominally cordial—was actually quite superficial,
+except possibly with Eleanor herself. He would have to be careful not
+to trip there.</p>
+
+<p>“What’s behind all this?” said Taft finally. “I know you. You work
+hard, but you can also relax. You’re not the kind to turn down an
+invitation just because you’re busy.”</p>
+
+<p>He’d judged the man correctly. Taft was shrewd, and quick to protect
+his own interests, daughter or company. “I may as well be frank,” said
+Talbot heavily. “I’m afraid we’re not going to develop the perfect
+rocket motor—or anything close to it.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s not what you said in your last report.”</p>
+
+<p>“Official optimism.”</p>
+
+<p>“It’s not Frescura’s attitude. I talked to him in Randy’s office and
+he’s brimming over with enthusiasm.”</p>
+
+<p>“Frescura will back his own work if it takes the last cent of the
+stockholders’ money.”</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t forget that some of that money belongs to him. He has stock in
+the company too. In fact, his holdings exceed yours.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know. But we’ve spent six times the amount we originally estimated.
+And the end’s not even in sight. I haven’t made up my mind, but I’ve
+been wondering lately. Perhaps we should abandon this line of research
+entirely. It may be the wisest course.”</p>
+
+<p>Taft stared at him, aghast. “You must be out of your mind. What would
+we do with this plant? Close it down?”</p>
+
+<p>“We don’t have to. We can lease research facilities to other companies.
+We can tackle short-range projects that <i>will</i> pay off.”</p>
+
+<p>Taft got up and paced the floor. “You’re in favor of abandoning the
+perfect rocket motor?”</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t say that. I merely said that I was thinking about it. Of
+course an alternative would be to reduce the scale of our efforts. Cut
+it back to a few men—something that we can afford.”</p>
+
+<p>“I don’t know,” said Taft in agitation. “Frescura isn’t going to like
+this.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s another matter I wanted to discuss with you,” said Talbot.
+“Frescura is a valuable man—too brilliant to be wasted on a project
+that has no chance of success. We should assign him to something more
+worthy of his talent.”</p>
+
+<p>Taft sat down. “You are actually saying that we should forget about
+going to the stars.”</p>
+
+<p>“Not exactly. I think the idea should be placed in the proper
+perspective. Later developments may enable us to resurrect it.” Talbot
+was somewhat bewildered. Taft’s reaction had surprised him—although he
+couldn’t have said quite what it was that he had expected.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t you see what it means?” said Taft, his face lighting up. “If we
+develop the motor in our own shops it will be <i>ours</i>. We won’t
+have to license it to others. Every bit of interstellar trade will be
+carried in our ships. Ours alone. <i>Monopoly</i>.”</p>
+
+<p>“Monopoly is nice,” said Talbot. “Bankruptcy isn’t. That’s what we face
+unless we cut down.”</p>
+
+<p>“TRANSPORTATION is years away from bankruptcy,” said Taft sharply.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>It was a shock to hear even that admission. Talbot’s own knowledge of
+the company’s financial position was fair. But Taft was in a better
+position to know the facts and if he said, even privately, that ruin
+was years away it could be assumed that he had grave doubts about the
+stability of the corporation.</p>
+
+<p>The startling fact stood revealed in all its naked ugliness. The
+largest company in the solar system was none too secure. And it was the
+reckless expenditures that Soleri was directing that had led them to
+the brink of disaster. At least he had uncovered one motive. Someone
+with a knowledge of the truth was out to wreck TRANSPORTATION.</p>
+
+<p>Before he could collect his thoughts there was an unexpected
+interruption. The door opened and Frescura came in, his face dark with
+anger. “As long as this is a stockholders’ meeting I thought I’d make
+it a quorum,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>This much Talbot knew. Taft was the largest individual holder, owning
+something less than fifty percent of the total corporate shares.
+Frescura held a lesser percentage, though fractionally more than Soleri
+did. Together the three of them constituted an actual working majority.
+It had been their combined votes which had backed the project from the
+beginning.</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” said Frescura. “Randy touched the wrong
+button while we were talking and I overheard part of the conversation.
+It concerned me—so I came in.”</p>
+
+<p>“We were discussing policy,” said Taft soothingly. “Nothing was
+decided. You understand that.”</p>
+
+<p>“I understand,” said Frescura in a hard set tone. “I also understand
+that this man is dangerous. He is <i>not</i> Soleri.”</p>
+
+<p>The assurance that Talbot had gradually been acquiring suddenly
+collapsed. He sat motionless, while a cold constriction tightened about
+his heart.</p>
+
+<p>Taft looked from Talbot to Frescura. “You can’t be serious? I ought to
+be able to recognize my chief executive and my own daughter’s fiance.”</p>
+
+<p>“Ordinally you would. But this man is a clever impostor,” said
+Frescura. “He wants to abandon the project. Soleri would have recoiled
+from the thought.”</p>
+
+<p>“I see no significance in that. Anyone can change his mind.”</p>
+
+<p>“Proof is on the way,” said Frescura. He seemed very sure of himself.
+“I began to suspect him when he put questions to me Soleri would not
+have needed to ask.”</p>
+
+<p>“It still isn’t proof.” But Taft was wavering. He turned and stared
+uncertainly at Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>“You can’t expect me to defend myself from a charge like this,” said
+Talbot. He realized at once that it was a weak answer, and tried to
+strengthen it. “The fire in my office wasn’t trivial. It’s true, I may
+have suffered a slight memory loss. The bursting of a few tiny blood
+vessels in my brain would account for it. But that doesn’t mean I’m
+less capable than before.”</p>
+
+<p>There was no possibility of escape. At Frescura’s command plant
+protection would close every exit in the building. And then he’d be
+charged with sabotage and murder.</p>
+
+<p>He had to sit it out. If he was exposed his only chance would be to
+claim that for a time he had actually thought himself to be Soleri.
+They’d investigate him psychologically, but mind tests weren’t exact
+and he had a good chance of making them believe he was telling the
+truth.</p>
+
+<p>“Nobody’s doubting your mental competence,” said Taft. “But there is
+some question as to who you are. Are you Evan Soleri?”</p>
+
+<p>“What can I say to that?” said Talbot. “Are you Andrew Taft?”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s not a defense,” said Frescura with smooth confidence. “It won’t
+be difficult to establish your identity.” He turned abruptly. “Come in
+Randy.”</p>
+
+<p>The door opened and Randy entered the room. Talbot was sure she had
+been listening to the entire conversation. He had never doubted her
+loyalty, but if Frescura had convinced her that he was not worthy of
+loyalty—</p>
+
+<p>Frescura took the folder from her. Talbot knew what was coming but
+curiously it relieved him. At least Randy wasn’t responsible.</p>
+
+<p>“You can leave now,” Frescura said sharply to her. Talbot knew she
+would continue to listen outside the door, and was glad he would not
+have to see her face.</p>
+
+<p>“His right hand was badly burned,” Frescura was saying. “New skin was
+grafted on. We can’t prove anything from that.”</p>
+
+<p>“Fingerprints?” said Taft. “It’s an old method of identification, but
+I’ve often wondered why it has fallen into disrepute.”</p>
+
+<p>“Because of the prevalence of skin grafts,” said Frescura. “But for
+certain purposes it’s still the most accurate method.” He smiled. “It’s
+in the hospital record that his left hand wasn’t burned. No skin was
+grafted on. The prints on that hand will show us who he really is.”</p>
+
+<p>He shook the folder at Talbot. “This man signed an authorization
+shortly before you came. When I heard what he said to you my suspicions
+were confirmed. I sent Randy down to plant protection for a comparison
+of prints. Here are the results.”</p>
+
+<p>He opened the folder, and looked at the three typed pages within. He
+stood there motionless, staring in consternation until the papers slid
+out and fluttered to the floor. His face was ashen. He reached out for
+support and lowered himself into a chair.</p>
+
+<p>“What does it say?” said Taft impatiently. “My God, what’s happening
+around this place anyway?” He scooped up the papers and read them
+silently. He passed them over to Talbot. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Truly
+sorry. I should never have had even the slightest doubt about you.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot’s sight blurred as he read the comment from plant protection:
+“Comparison of prints with those in our file reveals that Evan Soleri
+signed this authorization. The left hand prints match perfectly. The
+right hand indicates a skin graft from which no identification can be
+made.”</p>
+
+<p>Empathy had saved him. It had collapsed the difference between one
+person and another to nothing—zero. It had changed more than his face
+to match the subject identity. To the tips of his fingers he was now
+Soleri. The change hadn’t been made all at once; perhaps it had taken
+a week to reach completion. But here he was, safely Soleri—or trapped
+in the other identity. For the moment he preferred to think of it as
+safety.</p>
+
+<p>“There are other tests,” he said to Frescura. “I’ll take them all,
+including the empathy index.”</p>
+
+<p>Frescura stirred dully. “It will be zero point ninety-five,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t bait him,” said Taft sharply. “He made a mistake, granted. He
+accused you unjustly. But you must remember that you attacked a project
+he has devoted his life to. He’s emotionally upset. What he did was
+understandable.”</p>
+
+<p>Frescura’s eyes roamed across the ceiling. “I couldn’t let you stop
+me,” he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>Taft grasped his shoulder encouragingly. “Nothing will stop us. We’re
+going to the stars—no matter what it costs. However, you’ve been
+working too hard. I’ll send my doctor to you. He’s strict about some
+things but he’s the best. He’ll get you back in shape.”</p>
+
+<p>Taft turned to Talbot. “As for you, I don’t like memory lapses, even
+in minor matters. I want you to promise me you’ll see my doctor after
+he gets through with Frescura.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll be glad to,” Talbot said, without animosity. “I’ve been wondering
+what to do.”</p>
+
+<p>Taft swung back to Frescura. By some personal miracle the man had
+pulled himself together again. He was alert and forceful. Taft regarded
+him with approval.</p>
+
+<p>“That’s better. Go home and rest. Don’t work today.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re right,” Frescura said. “I should do that. I’ll have to drop by
+the lab and tell the boys I won’t be in for a few days.”</p>
+
+<p>“Evan will tell them. We’ll call a cab and get you on your way. Don’t
+worry about anything. The project will be continued.”</p>
+
+<p>They waited until Frescura left in an aircab. Taft got up, shaking his
+head bewilderedly. “Well, I’ll go too. Don’t forget that call tonight.”</p>
+
+<p>“I won’t. I’ll be sure and call her.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good.” Taft wiped his forehead. “This has been a hassle. We have them
+occasionally but I’ve never seen one to equal this.” Still shaking his
+head he went away.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot leaned back and closed his eyes. He had achieved a victory
+that was far from superficial and it gave him a feeling of personal
+solidity. He was Soleri and he was going to be Soleri and nobody would
+ever know the difference.</p>
+
+<p>But the rest didn’t make sense.</p>
+
+<p>Both Taft and Frescura were now beyond suspicion. He had nothing to go
+on—nothing at all. He’d have to re-examine the whole problem from the
+beginning. Somewhere within the plant was a criminal conspirator who
+didn’t want TRANSPORTATION to develop the perfect rocket motor. He was
+still there. He had killed once, and he wouldn’t hesitate to kill again.</p>
+
+<p>Why? If he could put his finger on the man’s motivating impulse he
+could track him down with little trouble. Somehow it seemed to go far
+beyond ordinary commercial rivalry.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot heard a sound at his elbow and opened his eyes. Randy was
+standing beside the desk.</p>
+
+<p>“Sleeping?” she asked, smiling at him.</p>
+
+<p>“No, just thinking,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>She leaned toward him. “Think about this then. I want to leave early.”</p>
+
+<p>He stared at her, puzzled. “No. There’s work to do.”</p>
+
+<p>“But there isn’t,” she assured him. “I ought to know.”</p>
+
+<p>He realized then that she wanted him to know that she had listened
+to most of the conversation. Probably she’d read the note from plant
+protection. Talbot thought of the call he’d have to make later. He had
+no desire to make her listen to that too.</p>
+
+<p>“All right,” he said. “I guess you know by now that I can’t play the
+stern employer when you look at me like that.”</p>
+
+<p>She smiled at him, turned and went out.</p>
+
+<p>He remained in his office thinking throughout the afternoon. He went
+home late—and alone.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="VII">
+    VII
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>In a dim corner of the apartment Talbot fingered a picture of Eleanor.
+Soleri’s taste in women closely paralleled his own. From a distance
+Eleanor could be mistaken for Laura. She was a trifle prettier perhaps,
+more lighthearted and whimsical, and more used to having her own way.</p>
+
+<p>He didn’t want to put through a long-distance call to her. He was
+entangled enough as it was with Randy, the three-cornered struggle
+between himself, Taft and Frescura and the unknown obstructionist in
+the plant, not to mention the perfectly efficient rocket motor that was
+never going to be built.</p>
+
+<p>He laid the picture face downwards on his desk, and went to the screen.
+But he didn’t call Eleanor Taft in her South African home. He called
+Randy.</p>
+
+<p>She answered in a charming state of dishabille. “Is this the way you
+always come to the screen?” he asked.</p>
+
+<p>“I knew it was you,” she replied. “I’m only surprised that you didn’t
+call sooner.”</p>
+
+<p>“Put some clothes on,” he said.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t you like it? Or are you asking me to come over?”</p>
+
+<p>“I like it,” he said. “But don’t come over. Not yet. I want some
+information. Precisely what did you do this afternoon?”</p>
+
+<p>She made a face. “It was awful. Candidly I thought I’d stumbled into
+an old fashioned mental institution. I never would have believed I was
+eavesdropping on a high-level conference between the three top minds in
+the biggest corporation in the system.”</p>
+
+<p>“We’re human too,” he said gloomily. “At least I think we are. What I
+meant was: What did you do when Frescura came out of my office and Taft
+went in?”</p>
+
+<p>“Do you want a detailed report?”</p>
+
+<p>“Yes—all of it. Exactly as it happened.”</p>
+
+<p>“Well, Frescura came out and talked to Taft for a moment. Taft went in
+to see you, and Frescura wanted some information from another office.
+He sent me to get it. When I came back he handed me the folder and told
+me to take it to plant protection. He said to wait there for results
+and bring it back as soon as I could.”</p>
+
+<p>“Is that all?”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s all.”</p>
+
+<p>“Good,” Talbot said. “Put on your clothes and come over.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’m glad you changed your mind.”</p>
+
+<p>“So am I. But I won’t be home when you get here. I may not be back
+until quite late. Whatever you do, don’t leave the apartment until I
+return. Promise?”</p>
+
+<p>“What choice do you give me? I’ll wait.”</p>
+
+<p>He cut off the screen and reached for a jacket. With methodical
+persistence he went through Soleri’s possessions until he found a gun.
+He had expected to find one. He checked it swiftly to make sure that
+it was loaded and in working condition. It was. He pocketed it with
+satisfaction and called a cab. He had to hurry.</p>
+
+<p>He saw from the air that the entire plant was dark except for a light
+in one of the offices. Even from a distance he thought he could tell
+which office it was. The cab landed, and he got out. There was a guard
+at the office entrance. He questioned the man quickly, and thoroughly.</p>
+
+<p>The plant was closed down tight. All of the other gates were securely
+locked and would remain closed until morning. The guard hadn’t seen
+anyone leave or enter the building. He didn’t know whether or not the
+office was occupied but it was reasonable to suppose that someone might
+be working late. Talbot stood back and looked. The light wasn’t visible
+from the corridor entrance.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot told the guard to stop anyone who came out. He went in and made
+a tour of the offices. They were all dark. The man in the lighted
+office had apparently heard Talbot enter the building and had left
+ahead of him.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot moved warily into the main shop. It was huge, cavernous and dim.
+He would not have been able to see at all except for the luminous strip
+which edged the aisles. Shadows loomed on the walls and ceiling and
+it would have been a simple matter for an intruder to conceal himself
+behind one of the machines.</p>
+
+<p>He went on. None of the laboratories were lighted. Back and forth
+across the plant he went, always sure there was a man just ahead of him
+he could never quite overtake. He turned and had begun to retrace his
+route when a light snapped on in the middle section of the building.
+He felt the gun in his pocket and walked to the edge of the circle of
+light.</p>
+
+<p>Frescura was standing completely motionless behind a machine, his head
+inclined. He looked up abruptly as Talbot approached. “I knew you would
+come back,” said Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>“I did,” acknowledged Frescura.</p>
+
+<p>“You lied this afternoon,” Talbot said. “Randy didn’t ‘accidentally’
+touch the button which enabled you to hear what I was saying. She
+wasn’t there. You sent her away so that you could listen.”</p>
+
+<p>Frescura smiled and said nothing.</p>
+
+<p>“You figured out what I was going to recommend to Taft. But you wanted
+to be sure. Another thing, I didn’t slip. You knew from the beginning
+or you would never have thought of the fingerprint subterfuge. You had
+to be the one who rolled in the bomb.”</p>
+
+<p>“Of course,” said Frescura. “Soleri confided to only two people that he
+was going to bring you in—myself and Randy. If Soleri had survived he
+would have remembered that. Therefore I guessed the truth instantly. I
+knew what you were capable of. That’s why I tried to get rid of both
+you, and Soleri.”</p>
+
+<p>“You must have sweated while I was in the hospital,” said Talbot. “It’s
+a good thing Randy was watching over me.”</p>
+
+<p>“It was a good thing for you that I was nervous,” said Frescura.
+“Later, when you got well and didn’t say anything I knew exactly what
+had happened. I thought I could handle you.”</p>
+
+<p>“That was your biggest mistake. I caused all sorts of trouble. But
+why did you have to get rid of anyone? Was it because you were close
+to success? Or because you wanted the discovery for yourself when the
+company failed?”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re still thinking in terms of money,” said Frescura. “There are
+things of far greater importance. The discovery was mine. It was mine
+from the very beginning. I did all the fundamental work. After the
+first year I could have built a motor that would drive a ship near the
+speed of light.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot leaned back. “And you still asked for more money, pouring it
+endlessly into non-existent research? I’ll admit that you could have
+led us astray—if anybody could. But why?”</p>
+
+<p>“I wanted to be absolutely successful in establishing a conviction
+that the motor could never be built,” said Frescura. “It was a
+problem in business psychology. I bought shares in the largest
+company in existence. I had influence, and I persuaded them to spend
+impossible sums under the direction of the foremost scientist in the
+field—myself. If that combination couldn’t build the motor no one else
+would ever try.”</p>
+
+<p>“What did you have to gain?” said Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>“Why don’t you ask me what I had to lose,” countered Frescura. “That
+engine would take us to the stars. Mankind isn’t ready for it.”</p>
+
+<p>“There’s something to what you say,” conceded Talbot. “Maybe we’re
+not ready. I’m not a judge. But you’re a scientist. Nearly everyone
+in your family has been a distinguished scientist for generations.
+Surely <i>you</i> should know that man is never fully ready for any new
+discovery.”</p>
+
+<p>“I am aware of my family’s collective guilt,” said Frescura. “But no
+Frescura will ever again be instrumental in leading mankind to the
+verge of destruction.”</p>
+
+<p>“That’s not an enlightening or entirely sane explanation,” said Talbot.</p>
+
+<p>“To you, perhaps not,” said Frescura. “To me it is. Both of my
+grandfathers worked on the atom bomb. It has haunted us—”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot’s hand moved toward the gun in his pocket. “I see,” he said. “It
+might haunt some people. However that disaster was prevented, just as
+your insane little scheme will be. You’ve failed.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’re mistaken,” said Frescura. “This afternoon I knew you’d begin to
+suspect me. I left deliberately, making sure you would see me go. But I
+came back.”</p>
+
+<p>“So did I,” said Talbot. “You failed.”</p>
+
+<p>“I hardly think you’ll shoot me,” said Frescura.</p>
+
+<p>“I will if I have to. You left notes. Other men will make good use of
+them now that they know you’ve been guilty of sabotage and murder.”</p>
+
+<p>“My notes will be quite useless to them,” said Frescura with a
+melancholy smile. “I told you I was far ahead of everyone else in the
+field.”</p>
+
+<p>The gun came out of Talbot’s pocket. He was sweating. “There are times
+when everyone feels that the human race isn’t worth blowing to hell,”
+he said. “You’ll feel differently after psychology. Let’s go.”</p>
+
+<p>“I can’t. My foot’s caught, and I’m in great pain. I turned on the
+light to prevent you from plugging away at me in the darkness.” He was
+staring intently at Talbot’s weapon. “I don’t have a gun. You will have
+to help me.”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot had no intention of moving any closer to Frescura’s powerful
+arms. “You’ll have to free yourself,” he said. “Your foot will slip out
+of the shoe.”</p>
+
+<p>“I’ll try.” Frescura leaned on the machine and strained. His leg
+swung free. There was an odd rattling sound. Talbot glanced down—and
+froze. Scores of black spheres were rolling across the floor in all
+directions. Thermal capsules! Frescura had quite obviously been lying
+about the injury to his leg. He had resorted to the subterfuge to
+distract Talbot’s attention while he overturned a small box at the base
+of the machine with a swift carefully timed kick.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot glanced up. Frescura had leapt back into the shadows, and was
+crouching behind the machines, his bulk only faintly visible in the dim
+light.</p>
+
+<p>“Can you find all of them in this light—in the time you have left?” he
+taunted. “What would you do with them if you succeeded?”</p>
+
+<p>Talbot raised his gun and sent a shot crashing into the shadows in the
+general direction of the voice. As the dim subsided he called out, “The
+next one will be you! Start toward the front.”</p>
+
+<p>There was a mocking laugh from another direction. “I don’t think I
+will. But you’d better hurry, Talbot.”</p>
+
+<p>He didn’t stop to argue. The shop would be an inferno when the covering
+of the capsules disintegrated.</p>
+
+<p>The shop was long, but it took him scarcely an instant to reach the
+office building. The two structures were connected, but there was a
+massive firewall between them. Talbot was thankful for the wall’s
+protection.</p>
+
+<p>At the corridor near the outside entrance he tried to turn too quickly
+and went sprawling into a side passageway. He cursed the panic which
+had caused him to stumble. It wasn’t entirely physical. His knees had
+simply buckled and he couldn’t control his actions as he slammed into
+the wall and fell. He was trying to get up when the thermal concussion
+hit him.</p>
+
+<p>The superheated air expanded violently and hurled him flat again. In
+the shop steel and concrete had been instantly vaporized near each
+sphere. But the firewall at the office held. It took up most of the
+shock before it crumbled, and the sprinklers switched on.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot became suddenly and violently ill. It was partly a nervous
+reaction, partly a physical one. The guard from the outside came by,
+running toward the explosion. He didn’t see Talbot lying stretched out
+on the floor in the side corridor.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot staggered to his feet and went outside. He was still panic
+stricken; he ran.</p>
+
+<p>When finally he was out of breath and the fear and nausea had
+diminished, he slowed down. He came to a rise in the street and looked
+back. The shop was a glowing mass of white hot steel and concrete.
+Now and then a capsule which had been timed for a different interval
+belatedly let loose, sending up a shower of sparks. Frescura was dead.</p>
+
+<p>Attracted by the fire and explosion people were coming out on the
+street. It was dark and he was glad he couldn’t see their faces. He
+tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible. He went by a group
+under a street light. A little boy stopped in front of him, gazing up.</p>
+
+<p>“Mommy, what’s the matter with him?” shrieked the child, pointing to
+Talbot’s face.</p>
+
+<p>The woman looked too. “Hush,” she said, jerking her son back. “You know
+it’s bad manners to point.”</p>
+
+<p>“But what’s the <i>matter</i> with him?” persisted the child.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot walked on. His clothing was disheveled, but not burned. He felt
+light-headed, unsteady on his feet. He was not surprised that the woman
+had pulled the child away.</p>
+
+<p>He had done his best. He had tried desperately to save Frescura from
+his misplaced guilt feelings. Now he was going home to Randy. He had
+thought his return would be more triumphant than this.</p>
+
+<p>He was nearing the apartment when he caught sight of himself in a shop
+mirror. He went past, then came back, and looked again. Finally he
+looked away. Into his mind had washed a torrent of terror. His eyes
+seemed empty and hueless.</p>
+
+<p>His cheeks sagged. His face was <i>Between</i>.</p>
+
+<p>His empathy had been shattered by shock and fear. He could close the
+gulf between Soleri and himself because they had been very much alike
+to begin with. But Frescura was different, incomprehensible. He could
+never have succeeded in understanding Frescura.</p>
+
+<p>He had caught the last shreds of Frescura’s consciousness, and it was
+that terrifying awareness which had sent him sprawling just before the
+concussion. The obscure forces of his mind tried always to put him in
+another’s place. In times of extreme mental reaction the force became
+much stronger. But it couldn’t span the emotional gulf between himself
+and the scientist.</p>
+
+<p>What it had done was to force out the lingering hold Soleri’s
+personality still had on him. He was no longer Soleri. But by the same
+token he was not yet himself.</p>
+
+<p>He was reverting.</p>
+
+<p>And his face was Between. It was a visible indication of what he was
+becoming. He couldn’t ever hope to pass as Soleri again. And that meant
+that Randy would be lost to him forever.</p>
+
+<p>He turned and walked away from the apartment. His thoughts were dull
+and blank. He walked on until his body rebelled.</p>
+
+<p>He stared about him. His wandering hadn’t been haphazard.
+Subconsciously his steps had taken him to his old apartment. He was
+standing in front of the building where he had lived as Hal Talbot.
+Wearily he climbed two flights of stairs and let himself in with a key
+which he had never discarded.</p>
+
+<p>He fell on the bed. It was Talbot who went to sleep.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="chapter">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="VIII">
+    VIII
+  </h2>
+</div>
+
+
+<p>In the morning he avoided shaving. He didn’t want to look in the
+mirror. He ate, slept again, and listened to newscasts.</p>
+
+<p>The newscaster announced that both Soleri and Frescura were dead.
+Soleri had been seen entering the plant but he hadn’t come out.
+Frescura’s death was harder to determine. He had left in the afternoon
+but there were definite indications that he had returned to the main
+workshop. The office building hadn’t been destroyed but the intense
+heat from the adjacent shop had caused considerable damage. A report
+had been found indicating that Frescura had planned a final experiment.
+He had been aware of the danger, and had planned to perform it at night
+in the workshop. An unexpected accident had apparently led to the
+tragedy.</p>
+
+<p>The loss of building and equipment was partly covered by insurance. The
+company hastened to assure the public that there was sufficient capital
+in reserve to enable it to survive the blow to its financial stability.</p>
+
+<p>Talbot shut off the newscast. He might have liked Frescura. Except for
+his excessive guilt complex the man had been heroic. And Talbot had to
+admit that Frescura had been right in one detail. He hadn’t failed. The
+perfect rocket motor would never be fully constructed in this century.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, he had a problem. What did the future hold for him? He
+lunched frugally, and tried to control his agitation. In the middle of
+the afternoon there was a knock on the door.</p>
+
+<p>Randy had found him. She came in quietly and looked around at the
+shabby little apartment.</p>
+
+<p>“I didn’t come to ask questions, although I have a right to,” she said.
+“But you made a mistake. Your salary allotment is on the executive
+payroll. It came to me for verification.”</p>
+
+<p>“You can’t prove anything,” he said. “And if you could—would it
+matter?”</p>
+
+<p>“I can prove all I want to prove,” she said.</p>
+
+<p>“Soleri’s dead.”</p>
+
+<p>“I know,” she said. “I’ve known for a long time. That wasn’t the only
+mistake you made.”</p>
+
+<p>“You’ve known for a long time?” He sat down.</p>
+
+<p>“Since the night I took you home from the hospital—and stayed. You
+said the wrong things. You kept giving yourself away. Don’t forget I
+was hired because I’m a psychologist.”</p>
+
+<p>She stared at him steadily. “You told me that nothing had changed
+between us. But you were mistaken. I’m not in the habit of throwing
+myself at men. I admit I did at Soleri, just a little. But he was not
+in love with me. He might have been—except that he was in love with
+Eleanor.”</p>
+
+<p>“Why didn’t you tell someone?” Talbot said. “Take it to plant
+protection?”</p>
+
+<p>“I couldn’t,” she said. “I was upset, but I had trapped myself. I
+couldn’t—not until I figured things out. A few days later I decided
+not to interfere. You told me that a man had been killed and that you
+intended to find out why. I knew that you were not responsible for what
+had happened, that you were not just a self-seeking opportunist.”</p>
+
+<p>So his masquerade hadn’t been nearly as good as he had thought!
+At least two people had seen through it. “That arrangement you
+mentioned—your statement that you were going home early. Was that
+deliberate too?”</p>
+
+<p>“I wanted more proof that you weren’t Soleri,” said Randy. “And—well,
+I wanted to see if you minded. I’m glad you did.”</p>
+
+<p>His thoughts were whirling and he couldn’t look at her. Mechanically
+Talbot opened the envelope. There was more money in it for his three
+weeks of employment than he had earned in any previous three months.</p>
+
+<p>“When I put Talbot on the payroll I thought you were dead,” said Randy.
+“It was going to be your last job—so I made it a good one. I signed
+you on as assistant to Soleri.”</p>
+
+<p>He could do without that. He didn’t need any industrial “assists” apart
+from himself, and his training in transportation and electronics.</p>
+
+<p>“Taft is hoping you’ll show up,” said Randy. “His two top men are gone.
+He needs a new executive familiar with the organization. The company
+will still do research, on a dozen new projects. It has to keep on
+with experimental work if it’s going to survive.”</p>
+
+<p>“Thanks for the tip!” He grinned at her. “I might go down and see what
+position they have for a man of my ability. You’d like that, wouldn’t
+you?”</p>
+
+<p>He crossed the room and looked down at her. “But you’ve got to
+understand this—there are some things for which I can’t be any man’s
+assistant.”</p>
+
+<p>“You won’t be,” said Randy.</p>
+
+<p>“Don’t you know you never were?”</p>
+
+<p>He knew it now. It was good to be himself again.</p>
+
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+<div class="transnote">
+  <h2 class="nobreak" id="Transcribers_Note">
+    Transcriber’s Note:
+  </h2>
+
+<p>This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe, March 1956 (Vol. 5,
+No. 2.). Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+copyright on this publication was renewed.</p>
+
+<p>Obvious errors in punctuation have been silently corrected in this
+version, while spelling and hyphenation have been kept as is.</p>
+</div>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77510 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
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+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #77510
+(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/77510)