COMPLETE BOOK-LENGTH NOVEL

 LONG AGO, FAR AWAY

 By MURRAY LEINSTER

 ILLUSTRATOR FINLAY

CHAPTER 1

The sky was black, with myriads of stars. The ground was white. But itwas not really ground at all, it was ice that covered everything--twentymiles north to the Barrier, and southward to the Pole itself, pasttowering mountains and howling emptiness and cold beyond imagining. 

The base was almost buried in snow. Off to one side of the main buildinga faint yellowish glow was the plastic dome of the meteor-watch radarinstrument. Inside Brad Soames displayed his special equipment to a girlreporter flown down to the Antarctic to do human-interest articles fornot-too-much-interested women readers. 

[Illustration: The children huddled together to protect themselves andtheir ship from the inquisitive strangers. ]

All was quiet. This seemed the most unlikely of all possible places foranything of importance to happen. 

There was one man awake, on stand-by watch. A radio glowed beside him--ashort-wave unit, tuned to the frequency used by all the bases of all thenations on Antarctica--English, French, Belgian, Danish, Russian. Thestand-by man yawned. There was nothing to do. 

 * * * * *

"There's no story in my work, " said Soames politely. "I work with thiswave-guide radar. It's set to explore the sky instead of the horizon. Itspots meteors coming in from space, records their height and course andspeed, and follows them down until they burn up in the air. From itsrecord we can figure out the orbits they followed before Earth's gravitypulled them down. "

The girl reporter was Gail Haynes. She nodded, but she looked at Soamesinstead of the complex instrument. She wore the multi-layer cold-weathergarments issued for Antarctica, but somehow she did not look grotesquein them. Now her expression was faintly vexed. The third person in thedome was Captain Estelle Moggs, W. A. C. , in charge of Gail's journeyand the public-relations angle generally. 

"I just chart the courses of meteors, " repeated Soames. "That's all. There is nothing else to it. "

Gail shook her head, watching him. 

"Can't you give me a human angle?" she asked. "I'm a woman. I'd like tobe interested. "

He shrugged, and she said somehow disconsolately:

"What will knowing the orbits of meteors lead to?"

"Finding out some special meteor-orbits, " he said drily, "might lead tofinding out when the Fifth Planet blew itself up. --According to Bode'sLaw there ought to be a planet like ours between Mars and Jupiter. Ifthere was, it blew itself to pieces, or maybe the people on it had anatomic war. "

Gail cocked her head to one side. 

"Now, that promises!" she said. "Keep on!"

"There ought to be a planet between Mars and Jupiter, in a certainorbit, " he told her. "There isn't. Instead, there's a lot of debrisfloating around. Some is as far out as Jupiter. Some is as far in asEarth. It's mostly between Mars and Jupiter, though, and it's hunks ofrock and metal of all shapes and sizes. We call the big ones asteroids. There's no proof so far, but it's respectable to believe that there usedto be a Fifth Planet, and that it blew itself up or was blown up by itsinhabitants. I'm checking meteor-orbits to see if some meteors arereally tiny asteroids. "

"Hmmm, " said Gail. She displayed one of those surprising, unconnectedbits of information a person in the newspaper business picks up. "Don'tthey say that the mountains on the moon were made by asteroids fallingon it?"

"It's at least possible that the moon was smashed up by fragments of theFifth Planet, " agreed Soames. "In fact, that's a more or less acceptedexplanation. "

She looked at him expectantly. "I have to think of my readers, " insistedGail. "It's interesting enough, but how can I make it something they'llbe concerned about? When the moon was smashed, why wasn't Earth?"

"It's assumed that it was, " Soames told her. "But on Earth we haveweather, and it happened a long, long time ago, back in the days ofthree-toed horses and ganoid fish. Undoubtedly once the Earth wasdevastated like the moon. But the ring-mountains were worn away by rainand snow. New mountain-ranges rose up. Continents changed. Now there'sno way to find even the traces of a disaster so long past. But the moonhas no weather. Nothing ever changes on it. Its wounds have neverhealed. "

Gail frowned in concentration. 

"A bombardment like that would be something to live through, " she saidvexedly. "An atomic war would be trivial by comparison. But it happenedmillions and millions of years ago. We women want to know about thingsthat are happening now!"

Soames opened his mouth to speak. But he didn't. 

The flickering, wavering, silver-plated wave-guide tube of the radarsuddenly steadied. It ceased to hunt restlessly among all placesoverhead for a tiny object headed for Earth. It stopped dead. Itpointed, trembling a little as if with eagerness. It pointed somewhereeast of due south, and above the horizon. 

"Here's a meteor. It's falling now, " said Soames. 

Then he looked again. The radar's twin screens should have shown twodots of light, one to register the detected object's height, and anotherits angle and distance. But both screens were empty. They showed nothingat all. There was nothing where the radar had stopped itself and whereit aimed. But all of the two screens glowed faintly. The graph-penswrote wholly meaningless indications on their tape. A radar, andespecially a meteor-tracking radar, is an instrument of high precision. It either detects something and pin-points its place, or it doesn't, because an object either reflects radar-pulses or not. Usually it does. 

 * * * * *

The radar here, then, gave an impossible reading. It was as if it didnot receive the reflections of the pulses it sent out, but only parts ofthem. It was as if something were intermittently in existence, or waspartly real and partly not. Or as if the radar had encountered analmost-something which was on the verge of becoming real, and didn'tquite make it. 

"What the--"

The inter-base radio screamed. At the same instant the twinradar-screens flashed bright all over. The twin pens of the tape-writingmachine scrambled crazy lines on the paper. The noise was monstrous. Ascreaming, shrieking uproar such as no radio ever gave out. There washorror in it. And what Soames could not know now was that at this sameinstant the same sound came out of every radio and television set in usein all the world. 

 * * * * *

The noise stopped. Now a bright spot showed on each of the meteor-watchradar's twin screens. The screen indicating height said that the sourceof the dot was four miles high. The screen indicating line and distancesaid that it bore 167° true, and was eighty miles distant. The radarsaid that some object had come into being from nothingness, out ofnowhere. It had not arrived. It had become. It was twenty thousand feethigh, eighty miles 167° from the base, and its appearance had beenaccompanied by such a burst of radio-noise as neither storm norlightning nor atomic explosion had ever made before. 

And the thing which came from nowhere and therefore was quiteimpossible, now moved toward the east at roughly three times the speedof sound. 

All manner of foreign voices came startledly out of the inter-base radiospeaker, asking what could it be? A Russian voice snapped suspiciouslythat the Americans should be queried. 

And the wave-guide radar followed a large object which had come out ofnowhere at all. 

The sheer impossibility of the thing was only part of the problem itpresented. The radar followed it. Moving eastward, far away in thefrigid night, it seemed suddenly to put on brakes. According to theradar, its original speed was close to mach 3, thirty-nine miles aminute. Then it checked swiftly. It came to a complete stop. Then ithurtled backward along the line it had followed. It wabbled momentarilyas if it had done a flip-flop four miles above the ground. It dived. Itstopped dead in mid-air for a full second and abruptly began to riseonce more in an insane, corkscrew course which ended abruptly in aheadlong fall toward the ground. 

It dropped like a stone. It fell for long, long seconds. Once itwavered, as if it made a final effort to continue its frenzy in the air. But again it fell like a stone. It reached the horizon. It droppedbehind it. 

Seconds later the ground trembled very, very slightly. Soames hit thegraph-machine case. The pens jiggled. He'd made a time-recording of anearth-shock somewhere. 

Now he read off the interval between the burst of screaming static andthe jog he'd made by striking the instrument. Earth-shock surface wavestravel at four miles per second. The radar had said the thing whichappeared in mid-air did so eighty miles away. The static-burst wassimultaneous. There was a twenty-second interval between the static andthe arrival of the earth-tremor waves. The static and the appearance ofsomething from nowhere and the point of origin of the earth-shockmatched up. They were one event. The event was timed with the outburstof radio noise, not the impact of the falling object, which was a minutelater. 

 * * * * *

Soames struggled to imagine what that event could be. The inter-baseradio babbled. Somebody discovered that the static had been on allwave-lengths at the same time. Voices argued about it. 

In the radar-dome Captain Moggs said indignantly:

"This is monstrous! I shall report this to Washington! What was thatthing, Mr. Soames?"

Soames shrugged. 

"There isn't anything it could be, " he told her. "It was impossible. There couldn't be anything like that. "

Gail cocked her head on one side. 

"D'you mean it's something new to science?"

Soames realized how much he liked Gail. Too much. So he spoke with greatformality. The radar had tried to detect and range on something thatwasn't there. The nearest accurate statement would be that the radar haddetected something just before it became something the radar coulddetect, which did not begin to make sense. 

Planes didn't appear in mid-sky without previously having been somewhereelse; it wasn't a plane. There could be meteors, but it wasn't a meteorbecause it went too slowly and changed course and stood still in the airand went upward. Nor was it a missile. A ballistic missile couldn'tchange course, a rocket-missile would show on the radar. 

He looked at his watch. 

"Six minutes and a half from the static, " he said grimly. "Eighty miles. Sound travels a mile every five seconds. Let's listen. Tenseconds--eight--six--four--"

Now the wave-guide radar had gone back to normal operation. Itssilver-plated square tube flickered and quivered and spun quickly inthis direction and that, searching all the sky. 

There was a booming sound. It was infinitely low-pitched. It waslong-continued. It was so low in frequency that it seemed more avibration of the air than a sound. 

It died away. 

"It's a concussion-wave, " said Soames soberly. "It arrived four hundredodd seconds after the static. Eighty miles. .. . A noise has to be prettyloud to travel so far! A ground-shock has to be rather sharp to be feltas an earth-tremor at eighty miles. Even a spark has to be very, veryfierce to mess up radio and radar reception at eighty miles. .. . Something very remarkable happened down yonder tonight--somethingsomebody ought to look into. "

Gail said quickly, "How about a spaceship from another world?"

"It would have come in from outer space, " said Soames. "It didn't. "

"A secret weapon, " said Captain Moggs firmly. "I shall report toWashington and ask orders to investigate. "

"I wouldn't, " said Soames. "If you ask orders you promise to wait forthem. If you wait for orders, whatever fell will be covered by snow pastdiscovery by the time your orders come. "

Gail looked at him interestedly, confidently. 

"What will you do, then?"

"I think, " said Soames, "we'll find it and then report. 

"You were planning a cosey little article on Housewives of theAntarctic; The Care and Feeding of One's Penguin Husband. Right?"

Gail grinned suddenly. 

"I see. Yes. "

"We take off in the 'copter, " said Soames. "We start out ostensibly togather material for an article on Can This Penguin Marriage Be Saved. But we'll be blown off course. We'll find ourselves quite accidentallywhere the radar said there was the great-grandfather of static bursts, with a ground-shock and a concussion-wave to boot. We may even be blownfarther, to where something dived downward for four or five miles andvanished below the horizon. "

Captain Moggs said uneasily:

"Most irregular. But it might be wise. "

"Of course, " said Soames. "It's always safer to report something you'vefound than not find something you've reported. "

"We start at sunrise, " said Captain Moggs authoritatively. 

 * * * * *

Soames went back to the radar. As he looked at it, it picked outsomething rather smaller than a marble at a height of seventy-nine milesand followed that unthinkably ancient small wanderer of space down toits spectacular suicide by fire at a height of thirty-four miles. 

He went painstakingly over the radar. It worked perfectly. The tapedrecord of its observations carried the story of all that Gail andCaptain Moggs had seen when he saw it. Machinery may err, but it doesnot have delusions. It would have to be subject to systematichallucination to have reported and recorded what this radar insisted wasthe truth. 

When dawn came, he went out to the helicopter's hangar. There was asupply-plane on the runway, but the helicopter belonged at the base. Hefound himself excessively conscientious in his check-over. Though hehated to admit it, he knew it was because Gail would be in the plane. 

When he headed back toward the main building one of the geophysics gangbeckoned to him. He followed to the small, far-spaced hut--nowsnow-buried to its eaves--in which the seismograph ticked away toitself. 

"I think I'm going crazy, " said the geophysics man. "Did you ever hearof a ground-shock starting inside out?"

He pointed to the graph-paper that fed very, very slowly past theseismograph's pens. The recording did look odd. 

"If you put your hand just under the surface of the water in a bathtub, "said the geophysics man harassedly, "and jerk it downward, you get ahollow that spreads out with a wave behind it. It's the exact oppositeof dropping a pebble into water, which makes a wave that spreads outwith a hollow--a trough--behind it. But except for that one way ofmaking it, all waves--absolutely all wave-systems--start out with acrest and a trough behind it. Everywhere, all the time, unless you dowhat I said in a bathtub. "

"I'm a shower man, myself, " observed Soames. "But go on. "

"This, " said the geophysics man bitterly, "is like a bathtub wave. See?The ground was jerked away, and then pushed back. Normal shock-wavespush away and then spring back! An ice-crack, a rock-slide, an explosionof any sort, all of them make the same kind of waves! All havecompression phases, then rarefaction phases, then compression phases, and so on. What--" his voice was plaintive--"what in hell is this?"

"Are you saying, " Soames asked after a moment, "that ordinaryearth-tremors record like explosion-waves, but that you'd have to havean implosion to make a record like this?"

"Sure!" said the geophysics man. "But how can you have an implosion thatwill make an earth-shock? I'm going to have to take this whole damnedwabble-bucket apart to find out what's the matter with it! But there'snothing the matter! It registered what it got! But what did it get?"

"An implosion, " said Soames. "And if you have trouble imagining that, I'm right there with you. "

He went back to the main building to get Gail and Captain Moggs. Theywent out to the 'copter hangar together. 

"I've talked to the radar and loran operator, " said Soames. "I explainedthat you wanted to see some crevasses from the air, and I'd be wanderingaround looking for them on the way to the rookery. He will check on usevery fifteen minutes, anyhow. "

 * * * * *

The 'copter went up the long, sloping, bulldozed snow-ramp. Soameschecked his radio contact. He nodded. The engines hummed and roared andbellowed, and the ship lifted deliberately and floated away over theicy waste. 

The little helicopter was very much alone above a landscape which hadnever known a growing thing. 

Soames kept in radar contact and when he was ready he told the base, "I'm going down now, hunting crevasses. "

He let the 'copter descend. The waste was featureless, then and for aseemingly interminable time afterward. Then his estimated positionmatched the site of the static-earth-shock-concussion-wave-occurrence. There seemed nothing about this part of the snow-desert which wasdifferent from any other part. No. Over to the left. A wind-patternshowed in the snow. It was already being blown away; its edges dulled. But it was rather far from a probable thing. There werelines--hollows--where gusts had blown at the snow's surface. They werespiral lines, tending toward a center. They had not the faintestresemblance to the crater of an explosion which might have made anearth-shock. 

Soames took a camera out of its place in the 'copter. Gail stared down. 

"I've seen something like that, " she said puzzledly. "Not a picture. Certainly not a snow-field. I think it looks like a diagram of somesort. "

"Try a storm-wind diagram, " said Soames drily. "The way a cyclone oughtto look from directly overhead. The meteorology boys will break down andcry when they see this picture!"

He took pictures. The shadows of the wind-made indentations would comeout clearly in the film. 

"Unless, " said Soames, "unless somebody got a snap of a whirlwindtouching a snow-field and bouncing up again, this will be a photographicfirst. It's not an explosion-pattern, you'll notice. Wind and snowweren't thrown away from the center. They were drawn toward it. Momentarily. It's an explosion inside out, an implosion-pattern to bemore exact. "

"I don't understand, " said Gail. 

"An explosion, " said Soames grimly, "is a bursting-out of a suddenlypresent mass of gas. An implosion is a bursting-in of a suddenly presentvacuum. Set off a firecracker and you have an explosion. Break anelectric bulb and you have an implosion. That pattern behind us is animplosion-pattern. "

"But how could such a thing be?"

"If we knew, " said Soames wrily, "maybe we'd be running away. Maybe weshould. "

The 'copter droned on and on and on. The ice-sheet continued unbroken. 

 * * * * *

"There!" cried Gail, suddenly. 

She pointed. Blowing snow hid everything. Then there was a hole in thewhiteness, a shadow. The shadow stirred and an object too dark to besnow appeared. It vanished again. 

"There's a sheltered place!" said Gail, "and there's something dark init!"

Soames pulled the microphone to his lips. 

"Calling base, " he said briefly. "Calling base. .. . Hello! I'm wellbeyond the last radar-fix. I think I'm bearing about one seven ohdegrees from base. Get a loran fix on me. Make it quick. I may have toland. "

He listened, pressing a button to activate the loran-relay which wouldtransmit a signal on signal from the base, so the bearing and distancecould be computed back at base. It was wiser to have such computationsdone aground. He readied the camera again. 

Gail looked through the 'copter's binoculars. The peculiarshadow--hole--opening in the blowing snow reappeared. Something in itlooked like a missile, only it was bright metal and much too large. Itlay askew on the ice. A part of it--a large part--was smashed. 

"Spaceship?" asked Gail, "do you think that's it?"

"Heaven forbid!" said Soames. 

There was movement. One--two--three figures stared up from beside themetal shape. A fourth appeared. Soames grimly took pictures. Gail gaspedsuddenly:

"They're not men!" she said shakily. "Brad, they're children! Queerlydressed children, with bare arms and legs! They're out there on thesnow! They'll freeze! We've got to help them!"

"Calling base, " said Soames into the microphone. "I'm landing. I haveto. If I don't report in twenty minutes come with caution--repeat withcaution--to see what's happened. I repeat. If I do not report in twentyminutes come with caution, caution, caution to see what is the matter. "

The 'copter made a loud, loud noise as it went skittering down towardthe object--and the children--on the ice. 

CHAPTER 2

The snow-mist blew aside and there was plainly a ship lying partlycrushed upon the snow. Half its length was smashed, but he could seethat it had never flown with wings. There weren't any. 

"It _looks_ like a spaceship, " said Gail breathlessly. 

Soames spoke between set teeth. 

"That would finish things for all of us!"

And it would, without any qualifications. On a world already squabblingand divided into two main power-groups and embittered neutrals; on aworld armed with weapons so deadly that only the fear of retaliationkept the peace. .. . Contact with a farther-advanced race would not unitehumanity, either for defense or for the advantages such a contact mightreasonably bring. Instead, it would detonate hatred and suspicion intomadness. 

A higher civilization could very well tip the scales, if it gave oneside weapons. The world outside the Iron Curtain could not risk that theIron Curtain nations become best friends of possible invaders. Thecommunist leaders could not risk letting the free nations make alliancewith a higher technology and a greater science. So actual contact with amore-advanced race would be the most deadly happening that could takeplace on the world as it was today. 

 * * * * *

Soames jumped out. He looked at the ship and felt sick. But he snapped aquick photograph. It had no wings and had never owned any. It had beenprobably a hundred feet long, all bright metal. Now nearly half of itwas crushed or crumpled by its fall. It must have been brought partlyunder control before the impact, though, enough to keep it from totaldestruction. And Soames, regarding it, saw that there had been nopropellers to support it or pull it through the air. There were noair-ducts for jet-motors. It wasn't a jet. 

There were no rockets, either. The drive was of a kind so far unimaginedby men of here and now. 

Gail stood beside Soames, her eyes bright. She exclaimed, "Brad! Itisn't cold here!"

The children looked at her interestedly. One of the girls spokepolitely, in wholly unintelligible syllables. The girls might bethirteen or thereabouts. The boys were possibly a year older, sturdierand perhaps more muscular than most boys of that age. All four werewholly composed. They looked curious but not in the least alarmed, andnot in the least upset, as they'd have been had older companions beeninjured or killed in the ship's landing. They wore brief garments thatwould have been quite suitable for a children's beach-party inmid-summer, but did not belong on the Antarctic ice-cap at any time. Each wore a belt with moderately large metal insets placed on eitherside of its fastening. 

"Brad!" repeated Gail. "It's warm here! Do you realize it? And there'sno wind!"

Soames swallowed. The camera hung from his hand. It either was or itcould be a spaceship that lay partly smashed upon the ice. He lookedabout him with a sort of total grimness. There was a metal girder, quiteseparate from the ship, which had apparently been set up slantingly inthe ice since the landing. It had no apparent purpose. 

Captain Moggs said peremptorily:

"Children! We insist on speaking to your parents! At once!"

Gail moved forward. Soames saw, now, a small tripod near the ship. Something spun swiftly at its top. It had plainly been brought out frominside the strange vessel. For a hundred yards in every direction therewas no wind or snow. More than that, the calm air was also warm. It wasunbelievable. 

"Do you hear me?" demanded Captain Moggs. "Children!"

Gail said in a friendly fashion, smiling at the girls:

"I'm sure you don't understand a word I say, but won't you invite us tovisit?"

Her tone and manner were plainly familiar to the children. One of thetwo girls smiled and stood aside for Gail to enter the ship. Soames andCaptain Moggs followed. 

 * * * * *

It was quite as bright inside the ship as out-of-doors. There were nolights. It was simply bright. A part of the floor had buckled upward, and the rest was not level, but the first impression was of brillianceand the second was of a kind of simplicity which was bewildering. Andthere was a third. It was of haste. The ship seemed to have been puttogether with such urgent haste that nothing had been done for merefinish or decoration. 

"I want to speak to the parents of these children!" said Captain Moggsfirmly. "I insist upon it!"

"I suspect, " said Soames grimly, "that in the culture these childrencame from, the proper place for parents is the home. This is achild-size spaceship, you'll notice. "

The size of the door and chairs proved it. He saw through a crumpled, open doorway into the crushed part of the ship. There was machinery inview, but no shafts or gears or power-leads. He guessed it to bemachinery because it could not be anything else. He saw a dented case ofmetal, with an opened top. The boys had apparently dragged it into therelatively undamaged part of the ship to work upon its contents. Hecould see coils of bare metal, and arrangements which might have beeninductances. He took a sort of forlorn pride in guessing that the thingwas some sort of communication-device. 

There was a board with buttons on it. It might be a control-board, butit didn't look like it. There was a metal box with a transparent plasticfront. One could see cryptic shapes of metal inside. Two bright-metalballs mounted on a side-wall. They had holes in them, about the rightsize for the hands of children like these to enter. There was atwo-foot, carefully machined spiral of metal, intruding into andlessening the living-space of the ship. These things had functions hecould not even guess at. He found himself resentful of things which wereobviously the developments of science, and he could not even guess whatthey were for. 

But alien? He looked at the boys. They were human children. They hadabsolutely nothing of strangeness about them. Their hair, their eyes andeyelashes were normal. Their noses. Their lips. Their teeth. In everyrespect they were as human as he was, or Gail. 

He looked to the most urgent problem of the moment. He snapped pictures, before anything else. 

One of the boys turned to the dented metal case. He began to arrange itscontents in a somehow final fashion. Soames guessed that it had beendamaged in the landing, and they'd made a repair. 

The second boy touched Soames' elbow and showed him the box with theclear plastic front. He touched it, and an image appeared in theplastic. It was an image of the landscape outside. He shifted the box, and the landscape image flashed sidewise. He touched another control. The landscape flowed swiftly toward the viewer. It raced. Presently theground seemed to drop away and Soames found himself staring at a picturewhich showed the ice-sheet and the sky and--very far away--the dark blueline which was the sea, now a hundred miles distant. 

The boy nodded and made delicate adjustments. Then Soames looked at animage of the Gissell Bay base from which he and the others had set outan hour before. It was a remarkably clear image. Soames could even seethe supply-plane waiting on the runway until it was time for take-off. He knew unhappily that the box was something which was not a radar, butperformed all the functions of one and so many others that it was adifferent thing entirely. 

Then Gail said:

"Brad! Look at this!"

She held out two necklaces that the girls had given her. She showed himthe ornaments at their ends. One was a very tiny horse. It wasbeautifully done, and obviously from life. The head was larger than anordinary horse's head would be. The body was lightly built. Each of itstiny feet had three toes. 

Gail watched Soames' face. 

"You see? How about this?"

The ornament of the other necklace was a tiny metal fish. It had finsand a tail, but no scales. Instead, its body was protected by bonyarmor. It was a ganoid fish, like a sturgeon. But it was not a sturgeon, though sturgeons are now the main representatives of what once wereinnumerable ganoid species. 

Soames shook his head, then spoke to Gail and Captain Moggs. "The shipwas built for children to operate, I can't imagine why. But there'snothing like a weapon in view. I'm going to call Base before they getalarmed. "

 * * * * *

He made a report which sounded as if there were some minor trouble withthe 'copter and he'd landed. It did not check with his last callspeaking insistently of caution, but he couldn't help it. Other baseswere on the same wave-length. He said he'd call back. He intended tocall for help--in handling the matter of the children--as soon as itwould seem plausible that he needed help to get off the ground again. 

But he felt shaky, inside. The radar-report and the static andearth-shock and concussion-wave of the night before had been improbableenough. But this was more incredible still. The children's ship musthave appeared in the middle of all those unlikely phenomena. It wasreasonable for it to have crashed amid such violence. But where had itcome from, and why?

They were human and they were members of a culture beside which thecurrent culture on Earth was barbaric. It could not be an Earthcivilization. On a world where for thousands of years men had killedeach other untidily in wars, and where they now prepared to destroythemselves wholly in a final one, there was no possibility of such acivilization existing in secret. But where was it?

Soames stood by the 'copter, staring bemusedly at the ship. The two boyscame out. They went briskly to the shattered part of the ship and pickedup a metal girder neatly matching the one that leaned absurdly where itwas fixed in the icy surface. By the ease of their movements, it couldnot be heavy. It would have to be aluminum or magnesium to be so light. Magnesium alloy, at a guess. 

One boy held it upright by the slanting beam. The other produced a smallobject Soames could not see. He bent over the ice and moved his hand toand fro. The new girder sank into the ice. They slanted it to meet theone already fixed. They held it fast for a moment. They went back to thewrecked ship. The second girder remained fixed, like the first one. 

Soames went to look. The metal beam was deeply imbedded in the ice whichsomehow did not chill the air above it. 

He heard a small sound. One of the boys, the one in the brown, tunic-like shirt, swept something across the plating of the crumpledvessel. The plating parted like wet paper. Soames watched in a sort ofneither believing nor unbelieving detachment. A whole section of platingcame away. The boy in the brown tunic very briskly trimmed plating awayfrom a strength-member and had a third metal beam. Whatever instrumenthe used, it cut metal as if it were butter. 

Both boys brought the third beam to where the others leaned to form atripod. But this third bit of metal was curved. They lowered it, and theboy in the brown tunic matter-of-factly sliced through the metal, tookout a V-shaped piece, and obviously made the rest of the metal wholeonce more. They raised it again, the boy moved his hand over the ice, itsank into it, they held it a moment only, and went off to the ship. 

Soames went numbly to see what had happened. He picked up scraps of thetrimmed-away metal. 

Soames puzzled over the metal scraps. They did not look cut. They hadmirror-bright surfaces, as if melted apart. But there'd been noflame. .. . 

The boys reappeared with the dented case that Soames guessed was acommunication device of some sort. They carried it to the new tripod. One of them carried, also, a complicated structure of small rods whichcould be an antenna-system to transmit radiation of a type that Soamescould not conceive of. 

Captain Moggs came towards him from the 'copter. 

"I called Base, " she said. "Two snow-weasels will start here within thehour. Another 'copter is due in from an advanced observation post at anymoment. It will be sent here as soon as it arrives. "

Soames wondered numbly just how indiscreet she'd been, in a short-waveconversation that could be picked up by any of the other-nation basesthat cared to listen in. But, just then, Gail came out of the ship. 

"Brad, " she said anxiously, "what are the boys doing?"

Soames knew only too well. If the dented case contained a communicator, which would use so complicated an antenna as lay ready for use, therecould only be one answer. And there could be only one thing for him todo, considering everything. 

"They're shipwrecked. They're setting up something to signal for helpwith. They've landed on a world of rather primitive savages and theywant somebody to come and take them away. "

"It mustn't be permitted!" said Captain Moggs firmly. "The ship must beexamined! In our modern world, with the military situation what itis. .. . "

Soames looked at her ironically. 

 * * * * *

He had metal scraps in his hand, those he'd picked up to examine as asavage might examine sawdust. There was a threadlike extension of metalfrom one scrap. He twisted it off and put it on his sleeve. He struck alight with his cigarette lighter. He touched it to the fibre of metal. There was a burst of flame. His sleeve was singed. 

"Mostly magnesium, " he said detachedly. "It's possible that they don'tthink of fire as a danger. They may not use fire any more. We don'tlight our houses with open flames any longer. They may not use flames atall. But I'm a savage. I do. "

He sorted through the bits of silvery metal. Another morsel had awire-like projection. He saw the boy with the green tunic layingsomething on the snow, from the ship to the tripod. 

"A power-line, " he said appalled. "They've got to signal nobody knowshow far, with nobody can guess how much power in the signal. And theyuse power-leads the size of sewing-thread! But of course the people whobuilt this ship would have superconductors!" Then he said, "I may becommitting suicide, but I think I ought to, rather than let . .. "

He moved forward. His throat was dry. He struck his lighter and touchedthe flame to the thread of metal on the second scrap. It flared. Hethrew the whole piece just as all the flammable alloy caught fire. Inmid-air it became a ball of savage white incandescence that grew largerand fiercer as it flew. It was a full yard in diameter when it fell uponthe dented case the boys had brought here. 

That burst into flame. The new-made tripod caught. Flame leaped thirtyfeet into the air. Soames was scorched and blinded by the glare. Thenthe fire died swiftly and snow-white ash-particles drifted down on everyhand. 

The boy in the brown tunic cried out fiercely. He held out his hand withthe thing that had cut metal glittering in it. 

Soames faced the fourteen-year-old grimly. The boy's face was contorted. There was more than anger in it. The boy in the green tunic clenched andunclenched his hands. His expression was purest horror. One of the girlssobbed. The other spoke in a tone of despair so great and grief so acutethat Soames was almost ashamed. 

Then the boy in the brown tunic spoke very, very bitterly to the girlwho'd evidently said something to restrain him. He turned his eyes fromSoames. He went into the ship, stumbling a little. 

The whole air of the three remaining children changed utterly. They hadbeen composed and confident and even zestful. They'd acted as if thewrecking of their ship were an adventure rather than a catastrophe. Butnow they were dazed by disaster. First one of the girls, and then thesecond boy, and then the other girl went despairingly into the ship. 

 * * * * *

Soames looked at Gail. The boy in the brown tunic had pointed at himwith the object that cut metal plates in half. He'd been stopped, mostlikely, by the girl's grief-stricken words. Soames had a profoundconviction that the boy could easily have killed him. He had an equallystrong conviction that it could have been a low price to pay forpreventing the rest of these children's race from finding Earth. 

"I suppose, " said Gail, "that you feel pretty badly. "

"I'm a savage. I've destroyed their signalling device. I may have kepttheir civilization from destroying ours. I feel like a murderer, " hetold her grimly. "And of children, at that. With luck, I may have keptthem from ever seeing their families again. "

After a long time Gail said with a curiously mirthless attempt at humor:

"Do you know, this is the biggest news story that's ever happened? Anddo you know that nobody would believe it?"

"But this, " said Captain Moggs firmly, "is a matter of such militaryimportance that nothing must be said about it at all! Nothing!"

Soames made no comment, but he didn't think the matter could be keptsecret. 

They waited. The children stayed in the ship. 

After a very long time the children appeared again. The girls' faceswere tear-streaked. They brought small possessions and placed themneatly in the snow. They went back for more. 

"At a guess, " said Soames, "that super-radar of theirs has shown them a'copter on the way. They know they can't stay here. I've made itimpossible for them to hope to be found. They've got to let themselvesbe taken away and they want to keep these things. "

The bringing-out of small objects ended. The boy in the brown tunic wentback in the ship. 

When he re-emerged, he said something in the bitterest of bitter voices. The girls turned their backs to the ship. The girl with brown eyes beganto weep. The boy in the green tunic shifted the small tripod to a newposition. As he carried it, the calmness and the warmth of the airchanged remarkably. There was a monstrous gust of icy wind, and warmcalm, and another gust. But when he put the tripod down again there wasonly calm once more. 

Soames heard the droning of another 'copter, far away. 

The boy in the green tunic held out his hand. It had the glittering tinyobject in it. From a fifty-foot distance, he swept his hand from one endto the other of the wrecked ship. Flame leaped up. The magnesium-alloyvessel burned with a brightness that stung and dazzled the eyes. Amonstrous, a colossal flaming flare leaped and soared . .. And died. Toolate, Soames fumbled for his camera. There was no longer a wrecked shipon the ice. There were only a few, smoking, steaming fragments. 

When the second 'copter landed beside the first, the four children werewaiting composedly to be taken away. 

CHAPTER 3

The world's affairs went on as usual. There were the customary number ofinternational crises. The current diplomacy preferred blackmail bythreat of atomic war. 

Naturally, even Antarctica could be used to create turmoil. Thepopulation of the continent was confined to the staffs of research-basesestablished during the International Geophysical Year. In theory thebases were an object-lesson in co-operation for a constructive purpose, which splendid spirit of mutual trust and confidence must spread throughthe world and some day lead to an era of blissful and unsuspiciouspeacefulness. 

But that time was not yet. 

There'd been an outburst of static of an unprecedented kind. 

It had covered the globe on all wave-lengths, everywhere of absolutemaximum volume. It had used millions of times as much power as anysignal ever heard before. No atom bomb could have made it. Science andgovernments, together, raised three very urgent questions. Who did it?How did they do it? And, why did they do it?

Each major nation suspected the others. Scientific progress had becomethe most urgent need of every nation, and was expected to be the end ofall of them. 

At Gissell Bay, however, the two 'copters came droning in, and settleddown, and Gail and Soames and Captain Moggs got out, and instantlypicked up a boy or a girl and hurried to get them out of the bittercold. 

The staff reacted immediately to the children. They tried to bereassuring. They tried to find a language the children could understand. They failed. Then when the children spoke slowly and carefully, theysearched at least for familiar root-sounds. They found nothing. Butcertainly the children felt themselves surrounded by people who wishedthem well. 

 * * * * *

The base photographer developed and printed Soames' pictures. The designof the ship was clear and the children before it gave it scale. Theinterior pictures were not so good, wrongly focused. Still, there wasplenty to substantiate Soames' report. 

Aside from the pictures there were the things the children had selectedto be brought. There was a cooking-pot. Its substance conducted heat inone direction only. Heat could enter its outside surface, but not leaveit. Heat could leave its inside surface, but not enter it. Consequently, when the lid was on, the outer surface absorbed heat from the air aroundit and the inner surface released it, and the contents of the pot boiledmerrily without fuel, while the outside became coated with frost. 

Some of the physicists went about in a state of shock, trying to figureout how it happened. Others, starry-eyed, pointed out that if thecooking-pot had been a pipe, it could be submerged under a runningriver, yield live steam by cooling off the water that flowed past it, and that water would regain normal river temperature in the course of afew miles of sunlit flow. In such a case, what price coal and petroleum?In fact, what price atomic power?

The small tripod went up outside the base's main building. Instantly thespinner began to turn, the wind ceased. In minutes the air ceased to bebiting. In tens of minutes it was warm. Meteorologists, refusing tobelieve their senses, explored the boundaries of the calm area. Theycame back, frost-bitten, swearing that there was a drop of eightydegrees beyond the calm area, and a rise of temperature beyond the coldbelt. The tripod-spinner was a different application of the principle ofthe cooking-pot. Somehow the spinning thing made an area that heat couldenter but not leave, and wind could not blow through. If the devicecould be reversed, deserts would become temperate zones. As it was, theArctic and Antarctic could be made to bloom. The gadget was anout-of-doors heat-pump. 

There was the box with the plastic sheet in it. One of the boys, verycomposed, operated it. On request, he opened it up. There was nothing inthe case but a few curiously shaped bits of metal. The thing was toosimple to be comprehensible when one did not know the principle by whichit worked. 

The same trouble showed up with every device examined. 

These were important matters. Captain Moggs visibly grew in her ownestimation. She commandeered a supply plane and took off immediately forWashington with the news of the event she'd witnessed, prints of Soames'photographs, and samples of the children's possessions which could becarried on her person. 

 * * * * *

Back at the base the most urgent problem was communication with thechildren. So Gail began gently to teach the taller girl some few Englishwords. Very shortly she greeted Soames anxiously when he came to see howthe process went. 

"Her name, " said Gail, "is Zani. The other girl--the one with blueeyes--is Mal, and the boy in the brown tunic is Fran and the one in thegreen is Hod. She understands that there's a language to be learned. She's writing down words in some sort of writing of her own. She wasbewildered when I handed her a ball-point pen, but she understood assoon as I demonstrated. They must write with something else. 

"But--what happens next? What's going to happen to the children? They'veno friends, no family, nobody to care what happens to them! They're in aterrible fix, Brad!"

"For which I'm responsible, " said Soames grimly, "and about which I'malready jittering. "

"I'm responsible too!" said Gail quickly. "I helped! What are youworrying about?"

"They burned up their ship, " said Soames more grimly still. "Why?"

She shook her head, watching his expression. 

"They treated us like harmless savages in the beginning, " he said. "ThenI destroyed their only hope of getting in touch with their families andfriends. So one of the boys destroyed their ship. But the others knew, and got ready for it by bringing some possessions out of it. Why?"

"I'm not sure . .. " said Gail. 

"If we'd captured their ship intact, " Soames told her, "we'd havestudied it. Either we'd have come to understand it, so we could buildone too, or if we couldn't--being savages--we'd have given up entirely. In either case the children wouldn't matter to us. They'd simply havebeen castaways. As it is, they've got us where they want us. I suspectthey've got some trinkets to trade with us, as we might offer beads tobushmen. Let them or help them signal to their families, they'll say, and their parents will make us all rich. "

Gail considered. Then she shook her head. 

"It won't work. We've got newspapers and news broadcasts. People will betoo scared to allow it. "

"Scared of four children?" demanded Soames. 

"You don't realize what newspapers are, " Gail said with a trace ofwryness. "They don't live by printing news. They print 'true' stories, serials. 'True' crime stories, to be continued tomorrow. 'True'international-crisis suspense stories, for the next thrilling chapterread tomorrow's paper or tune in to this station! That's what's printedand broadcast, Brad. It's what people want and insist on. Don't yourealize how the children will be served up in the news? 'Creatures FromSpace in Antarctica! Earth Helpless!'" She grimaced. "There won't be anydemand for human-interest stories by Gail Haynes, telling about fournicely-raised children who need to be helped to get back to theirparents. The public wouldn't like that so much. 

"You'll see, " Gail continued, "I'm very much afraid, Brad, thatpresently you and I will be the only people in the world who don't thinkthe children had better be killed, for safety. You did the right thingfor us, in not letting them signal to their families. But you don't needto worry about too much sympathy for the children!"

"And I got them into it, " said Soames, morosely. 

"We did, " insisted Gail. "And we did right. But I'm going to do what Ican to keep it from being worse for them than I can help. If you'll joinme--"

"Naturally!" said Soames. 

 * * * * *

He went moodily away. He was unaware of Gail's expression as she lookedafter him. She turned slowly to the girl with her. 

He found the other three children. They were the center of an agitatedgroup of staff-members, trying to communicate by words and gestures, while the children tried not to show disturbance at their vehemence. Acosmic-particle specialist told Soames the trouble. Among the children'spossessions there was a coil of thread-fine copper wire. Somebody hadsnipped off a bit of it for test, and discovered that the wire wassuperconductive. A superconductor is a material which has no electricalresistance whatever. In current Earth science tin and mercury and a fewalloys could be made into superconductors by being cooled below 18°Kelvin, or four hundred odd degrees Fahrenheit below zero. Above thattemperature, superconductivity did not exist. But the children's wirewas a superconductor at room temperature. A thread the size of a cobwebcould carry all the current turned out by Niagara without heating up. Aheavy-duty dynamo could be replaced by a superconductive dynamo thatwould almost fit in one's pocket. A thousand-horse-power motor wouldneed to be hardly larger than the shaft it would turn. It would mean . .. 

"Let 'em alone!" snapped Soames. "They couldn't tell you how it wasmade, even if they could talk English! Give them a chance to learn howto talk! They've had a bad time anyhow. "

He took the boys and the other girl away. He led them to his ownquarters. He whistled for his dog, Rex, and showed the children how toplay with him. They began to relax and enjoy the fun heretofore unknownto them. 

 * * * * *

Soames left his quarters and held his head. There was much to worryabout. For example, Captain Moggs in Washington, there to pass oninformation perfectly calculated to bring about confusion. And at thebase itself a completely natural routine event took place to make theconfusion twice confounded. 

The director of the Gissell Bay base made his normal, regular, short-wave report to the scientific organization which controlled andco-ordinated the base's activities and kept it supplied and equipped. The Gissell Bay director was an eminent scientist. He talked comfortablyto an even more eminent scientist in the capital of the United States. Naturally, the static scream was mentioned in Washington. As naturally, the discovery of a crashed spaceship came up. It was important. Itshould be reported. It was. The Gissell Bay director went into detailsabout the children and about the gadgets they'd selected to be salvagedwhen they destroyed their ship. A complete account preceded CaptainMoggs to Washington, but not to the military. She was in charge of thatangle. 

The eminent scientist in Washington naturally discussed the report withother scientists who would naturally be as much concerned as himself. Later in the morning, one of those scientists received a reporter. Thereporter asked various routine questions. In all innocence, thescientist who had been told by the scientist who had been told by thedirector at Gissell Bay, told the reporter. 

And therefore, as Captain Moggs rode toward the Pentagon she did notnotice the headlines, but they had already been seen in the Pentagon. 

 "SPACESHIP LANDS IN ANTARCTICA! _Alien Life Forms Aboard_ Scientists Alarmed. "

No newspaper would spoil a good story by underplaying it. Wire serviceswasted no time. There were other similar headlines all over the UnitedStates. 

It should be added that the first editions of the first newspapers toprint the story did mention that the invaders were in appearance likehuman children, but somehow it did not sound plausible. Also, othersorts of descriptions were more exciting. The description of children asinvaders was classed as a guess. Then as a bad guess. Then as somethingso preposterous that it wasn't worth relating. Anyhow the point of thestory was that a ship from off the Earth had landed, with intelligentbeings in it, equipped with marvellous devices. And marvellous deviceswould naturally--in the state of the world at that time--be weapons. Sorewrite men expanded the news service dispatches by the soundbusiness-like rule that the public is entitled to get what it wants. Thepublic likes to be scared. 

A lieutenant-general greeted Captain Moggs at the Pentagon. 

"This business is true?" he demanded. "A spaceship from off Earth haslanded? It had a crew? The crew's still alive? Hell and damnation! Whatweapons have they got?"

 * * * * *

Captain Moggs stammered but managed to give answers. They did not givean impression of a properly complete investigation of the landing of analien spaceship. In particular, her statement that the crew of the shipwas human children simply did not register. 

"Hah!" said the lieutenant-general, bitterly. "Nothing to go on! You, Captain whatever-your-name-is, you were there when the ship was found, you say. Very well. Keep your mouth shut. Get a plane and go back. "

He addressed his men, "Bring up all their stuff, the stuff they broughtfrom their ship. Get the stray unburned parts of their ship. Get ourguided missile men set to work on them and find out how the driveworked. They ought to come up with something! Round up somespecial-weapons men to investigate those fragments too. See what they'vegot! Work from these pictures until we've got the samples. " He swungback to Captain Moggs. "You go back and bring those aliens andeverything that can be brought! Bring everything! And in the meantime, "he looked around his office, "a lid goes on this! Top secret--top-topsecret! The newspapers have to be choked off. Deny everything!"

He waved his hand. She left the office. 

Her plane was barely south of Virginia when a spokesman for the Pentagonassured a news conference that the Defense Department had no informationabout an alleged non-terrestrial spaceship landing in Antarctica. Thenewspaper reporters pulled newspapers from their pockets. The Pentagonhad been denying things right and left, in obedience to orders. Now thenewspapers printed reproductions of United Nations records, showing thatat the request of the Defense Department four United Nations passportshad been issued. The records said that the passports were for Jane andJohn Doe, and Ruth and Richard Roe, who obviously could not enter theUnited States without proper documents. The UN information on thosepersons was: birthplace, unknown; nationality, unknown; age, unknown;description, not given; race, unknown; occupation, unknown. And all thenewspapers carried headlines about "SPACESHIP CREW US-BOUND. " Or:

 "TAKE US TO YOUR PRESIDENT"--ALIENS

 _Spaceship Crew Demands Top-Level Conference. _ Ultimatum Hinted At

It was not, of course, exclusively an American affair. The London_Times_ pointed out the remarkable amount of detailed speculation in theair, as compared with the minute amount of admitted facts. Butelsewhere: _Pravda_ insisted that the aliens had refused to enter intodiscussions with America after learning of its capitalistic socialsystem and tyrannical government. _Ce Soir_ claimed exclusive privateinformation that the crew of the spaceship--which was twelve hundredmetres long--were winged monsters of repellant aspect. The officialnewspaper in Bucharest, to the contrary, said that they were intelligentreptiles. In Cairo it was believed and printed that the spacecraft wasmanned by creatures of protean structure, remarkably resemblinglegendary _djinns_. 

There were other descriptions, all attributing monstrous qualities andbrutally aggressive actions to the aliens. 

And at Gissell Bay the staff became rather fond of four young peoplewhose names were Zani, Fran, Hod and Mal, because they had been verywell brought up by their parents and were thoroughly nice children. 

 * * * * *

They were tense, and they were desperately anxious and uneasy. But theydisplayed a resolute courage that made moderately decent people likethem very much. Most of the research-staff wanted very badly to ask themquestions, but that was impossible, so they studied the rather fuzzyphotographs of the inside of the ship--the base photographer had runoff several sets of extra prints--and poked helplessly at the things thechildren had brought with them, and racked their brains to imagine howsuch things work. The spinning thing atop the tripod made it quitepleasant to be out-of-doors around the Gissell Bay base, though therewere forty-mile winds and thermometers read ten below zero two hundredyards from the thing Hod had set up. The cooking-pot boiled merrilywithout fuel, with an increasingly thick layer of frost on its outside. The thing Soames had called a super-radar allowed a penguin rookery tobe watched in detail without disturbing the penguins, and Franobligingly loaned his pocket instrument--the one that cut metal likebutter--to the physicists of the staff. 

He had to show them how to use it, though. It was a flat metal caseabout the size of a pocket cigarette lighter. It had two very simplecontrols, and a highly ingenious gimmick which kept it from turningitself on by accident. 

In an oblique fashion, it was a heat-pump. One control turned it on andintensified or diminished its effect. The other controlled the area itworked on. In any material but iron, it made heat flow together towardthe center of its projected field. Pointed at a metal bar, the heat fromboth ends flowed to the center, where the pocket device was aimed. Thecenter became intensely hot. The rest went intensely cold. In seconds abronze bar turned red-hot along a line a hundredth of an inch thick. Then it melted, a layer the thickness of tissue-paper turned liquid andone could pull the bar apart or slide it sidewise to separate it. Butone needed to hold the bar in thick gloves, because liquid air coulddrip off if one were not careful. And it did not work on iron or steel. 

Soames took Fran with Mal and Hod, to the improvised schoolroom whereGail labored to give Zani a minimum vocabulary of English words. Rexwent happily along with the others. 

Zani greeted the dog rapturously. She got down on the floor with him andtussled with him, her face beaming. 

Soames' mouth dropped open. The other children hadn't known there wassuch a thing as a dog. They'd had to learn to play with Rex. But Zaniknew about dogs and how to play with them on sight. 

"I suppose, " said Gail, not knowing of Soames' astonishment, "Zani willhelp me teach the other children some words. "

But the boy Hod had picked up the ball-point pen Gail had needed to showZani the use of. He didn't need to be shown. Without a glance at it, hebegan to write. A moment later he read off, slowly and clumsily and fromthe completely cryptic marks he'd made, the English words that Gail hadtaught Zani. Fran and Mal joined him. They painstakingly practiced thepronunciation of words Gail had taught Zani but not them. 

It was another development that did not make sense. 

CHAPTER 4

Captain Moggs landed and went directly to the main building of the base. The children were playing with Rex. 

"Children, " she said with authority, "go inside and pack up. We aregoing back to the United States. "

The girl Mal seemed to understand and went to tell the others. 

Captain Moggs came upon Soames, feverishly making up bundles of objectsthe children had brought out of their ship before Fran--in the browntunic--had burned it. Captain Moggs said approvingly:

"You must have anticipated my orders! But I thought it unwise to tellyou by radio on the inter-base wave-length. "

Soames said curtly:

"I don't know anything about your orders. They're refuelling your shipnow. We need to get it aloft with Gail and the kids inside of fifteenminutes. 

"We were clearing away a snow-weasel to take to the woods, " he growled. "Not the woods, but the wilds. We've got company coming. "

"Impossible!" said Captain Moggs. "I have top-level orders for thiswhole affair to be hushed up. The existence of the children is to bedenied. Everybody is to deny everything. Visitors cannot be permitted!It's absolutely unthinkable!"

Soames grinned mirthlessly. 

"It's six hours since the French asked if they might come over for asocial call. We stalled them. The English suggested a conference aboutthe extrawd'n'ry burst of static the other night. They were stalled offtoo. But just about an hour ago the Russians pulled their stunt. Emergency S. O. S. One of their planes with engine trouble. Can't gethome. It's heading this way for an emergency landing, convoyed byanother plane. Can you imagine us refusing permission for a ship introuble to land?"

"I don't believe it's in trouble!" said Captain Moggs angrily. 

"Neither do I, " said Soames. 

He passed a wrapped parcel to one side. 

"They must be acting on orders, " he said coldly. "And we don't know whattheir orders are. Until we realized you'd get here first, we were makingready to take the kids off in a snow-weasel. If we kept to soft snow, noplane could land near them. It's just possible somebody could claim thekids asked protection from us decadent, warmongering Americans, and theymight be equipped to shoot it out. We aren't. "

Some of the base specialists appeared to help Soames carry the parcelsto the transport. 

Gail appeared, muffled up for travel. Fran and Zani were with her, similarly clothed. They carried garments for the others. 

Captain Moggs fled to the communications room to demand radio contact toWashington. But the radio was busy. The French, having been stalled offwhen they suggested a visit, were now urged to call immediately. TheEnglish, similarly put off, were now invited to drop in for tea. AsCaptain Moggs sputtered, the radio went on to organize a full-scaleconference on common observational problems, plus a seminar on Antarcticscientific research in general. It would be a beautiful example ofwhole-hearted co-operation among scientific groups of differentnationalities. It should set a charming example for the rest of theworld. But members of the staff, arranging this swift block of possibletrouble-making by unwelcome visitors, wore the unpleasant expression ofpeople who are preparing to be very polite to people attempting to putsomething over on them. It was notable that the few sporting weapons atthe base were passed out to those who could use them most effectively ifthe need arose. 

The transport's fuel-tanks were topped. The remaining two childrenstruggled into flying garments. The boy Hod took down the small tripodwith its spinning thing on top. Instantly the area about the base mainbuilding became bitter cold. The children climbed into the transportafter Gail. 

Soames, swearing, climbed in after a still expostulating Captain Moggs. He did not like the idea of leaving while any chance of trouble stayedbehind. But as a matter of fact, his leaving with the others removednearly the last chance of it. 

 * * * * *

It was, though, the rational thing to do. 

Representatives of the other nations would land at the American base, and assure themselves that there were no extraterrestrials in hiding norany signs of a spaceship anywhere about. And there would result ascientific conference that would do some good. The extraordinary burstof static would be discussed, with no conclusion whatever. But theAmericans would be able to make an agreement on methods of observationwith the other bases so that observations in the future would yield alittle more information than had been secured before. 

Gail kept a quasi-maternal eye on the children until they dozed off. Butshe watched Soames' expression, too. She and Soames and Captain Moggsrode in the passenger section of the transport a few seats behind thechildren. 

"I wish I could understand, " said Gail, in a low tone to Soames. "Theother children know everything I've taught Zani, and there's been no wayfor them to know! They know things they weren't in the room to learn, and Zani didn't have time to tell them! Yet it doesn't seem liketelepathy. If they were telepaths they could exchange thoughts withoutspeaking. But they chatter all the time!"

"If they'd been telepaths, " said Soames, "they'd have known I was goingto burn their signalling apparatus. They could have stopped me, or triedto, anyhow. "

 * * * * *

Captain Moggs had paid no attention. Now she asked, "Why does the publicinsist on details of matters the military think should be kept secret?"

"Because, " said Gail briefly, "it's the public that gets drowned by atidal wave or killed by a cyclone. If strangers from space discoverEarth, it's the public that will suffer. "

"But, " said Captain Moggs querulously, "it is necessary for this to bekept secret!"

"Unfortunately, " said Soames. "The story broke before that decision wasmade. "

He thought how inevitable it was that everybody should see the situationfrom their own viewpoint only. Captain Moggs from the military; Gail hada newspaper-woman's angle tempered with feminine compassion. And he wasfascinated by the innumerable possibilities the technology of thechildren's race suggested. He yearned for a few days alone with somelow-temperature apparatus. The hand-tool of Fran's bothered him. 

He told Gail. 

"What has low temperature to do?" she asked. 

"They've got some wire that's a superconductor at room temperature. Wecan't have superconductors above 18° Kelvin, which is colder than liquidhydrogen. But a superconductor acts like a magnetic shield, no, notexactly. But you can't touch a magnet to one. Induced currents in thesuperconductor fight its approach. I'd like to know what happens to themagnetic field. Does it cancel, or bounce, or what? Could it, forinstance, be focussed?"

"I don't see . .. "

"Neither do I, " said Soames. "But I've got a hunch that the littlepocket gadget Fran carries has some superconductor in it. I think Icould make something that wouldn't be his instrument, at all--it woulddo different things--but that gadget does suggest some possibilities Ifairly ache to try out. "

"And I, " said Gail, with a faint smile, "I want to try to writesomething that nobody would print. I'd like to write the real story as Isee it, the children from a viewpoint nobody will want to see. "

He looked at her, puzzled. 

"My syndicate wants a story about the children that nobody will have tothink about. No recognition of a problem in plain decency with thechildren considered as human as they are, but just a story thateverybody could read without thinking anything but what they wanted to. They're nice children. Somebody raised them very well. But with mostpeople nowadays thinking that if children aren't ill-bred they'refrustrated. .. . "

She made a helpless gesture as the plane bellowed onward. 

 * * * * *

Presently the moon shone on Fran's face. He moved in his sleep. After alittle he opened his eyes and gasped a little. He looked startledlyaround, an instinct of anyone waking in a strange place. Then he turnedback. He saw the moon. 

He uttered a little cry. His face worked. He stared at the misshapen, incompletely round companion of Earth as if its appearance had someextraordinary, horrifying meaning for him. His hands clenched. 

Behind him, Gail whispered:

"Brad! He's--horrified! Does that mean that he and the other childrenneed to signal to someone . .. "

"I doubt it very much, " said Soames. "If his parents and companions hadlanded on the moon, and I stopped him from signalling to them, he mightlook hopefully at it, or longingly, but not the way he does. "

Fran touched the other boy, Hod. Hod waked, and Fran spoke to him in anurgent whisper. Hod jerked his head about and stared at the moon as Franhad done. He made a little whimpering noise. Then Mal made a bubblingsound, as from a bad dream. She waked. Then Zani roused and began to askwhat was obviously a question, and stopped short. They spoke to eachother in hushed voices in that unintelligible language of theirs. 

"I've got an idea, " said Soames in a flat, unbelieving tone. "Let'ssee. "

Soames went forward and into the pilot's compartment. He came back withbinoculars. He touched Fran on the shoulder and offered them. Franstared up at him with dazed eyes, not really attending to Soames at all. He looked back at the moon. 

He focussed the binoculars. They were excellent glasses. Thering-mountains at the edge of sunshine on the moon were very, verydistinct. He could see those tiny speckles of light on the dark side ofthe terminator which were mountain-tops rising out of darkness into thesunshine. There was Aristarchus and Copernicus and Tycho. There were thevast, featureless "mares, "--those plains of once-liquid lava which hadwelled out when monstrous missiles the size of counties buriedthemselves deep in the moon's substance. The moon could be seen asbattered; shattered, devastated; destroyed. 

Soames touched Fran's shoulder again and showed him how one lookedthrough the binoculars. Fran's hand shook as he took them. He put themto his eyes. 

Zani put her hands over her eyes with a little cry. It was as if shetried to shut out the sight that Fran saw. Mal began to cry quietly. Hodmade little gasping noises. 

Fran lowered the binoculars. He looked at Soames with a terrible hatredin his eyes. 

Soames went back to Gail, leaving the binoculars with the children. Hefound himself sweating. 

"When, " asked Soames harshly, "were the mountains on the moon made? It'san interesting question. I just got an answer. They were made when therewere three-toed horses and many ganoid fishes on the earth. "

 * * * * *

"The children knew the moon when it--wasn't the way it is now, " he saidwith some difficulty. "You know what that is! Ring-mountains sometimeshundreds of miles across, splashings of stone from the impact ofasteroids and moonlets and islands of rock and metal falling from thesky. The mares are where the moon's crust was punctured and lava pouredout. The streaks are where up-flung stuff was thrown hundreds of miles!

"It was a guess, " said Soames. "But it's not a guess any longer. Therewas a Fifth Planet, and it either exploded or was blown to bits, heavenknows how! But the moon was bombarded by the wreckage, and so was Earth!Mountain-ranges fell from the sky right here on this world, too. Therewas destruction on Earth to match that on the moon. Perhaps here andthere some place remained undestroyed, an acre here, perhaps a squaremile a thousand miles away. Some life survived, and now it's allforgotten. There are rains and winds and frost. Earth's scars wore awaythrough millions of years. We don't even know where the wounds were! Butthere were people in those days!

"And they were civilized, " continued Soames. "They had superconductorsand one-way conductors of heat. They had reached the point where theydidn't need fire any more, and they built ships of magnesium alloy. Theysaw the Fifth Planet when it flew apart. They knew what must happen toEarth with the whole solar system filled with a planet's debris. Earthwould be smashed; wrecked; depopulated, made like the moon is now! Maybethey had ships that went to other planets, but not enough to carry allthe race. And the only other planets they could use were the inner ones, and they'd be smashed like the Earth and moon? What could they do? Theremight be one or two survivors here and there, bound to lapse intosavagery because they were so few. But where could the civilized racego?"

Gail made an inarticulate sound. 

"They might, " said Soames in a flat voice, "they might try to go intothe future; into the time beyond the catastrophe, when Earth would havehealed its wounds. They might send someone ahead to see if it werepossible. Yet if they sent one ship first--with everyone left behinddoomed to die--if they sent one ship first, it's reasonable that they'dgive children the chance of survival. It's even reasonable that they'dsend two boys and two girls. .. . "

"They--had a transmitter, " Gail said, as if breathing hurt her. "Youdestroyed it. They meant to signal, not for help as we thought, but fortheir people to join them. M-maybe now they're hoping to get thematerial and the power to build another transmitter. Since everythingthey use is so simple, the boys might have been taught how. They weretaught to repair the one they had! They did repair it! Maybe they canmake one, and hope we'll help them! They'd have been especiallytrained. .. . "

"Nice, isn't it?" asked Soames. "They were sent here in some fashion tomake a beachhead for the landing of their people. A civilization that'sstarkly, simply doomed unless it can migrate. No mere conquest, withtribute to be paid to it. It has to take over a whole planet! It has totake over Earth, or die!" He winced. "And the kids, now, think of theirparents as waiting for mountains to fall upon them from the sky, andI've doomed them to keep on waiting. Now the kids must be hopingdesperately that they can get us to give them the means to saveeverything and everybody they care about, even though we're destroyed inthe process! Isn't it pretty?

"If anybody else finds out what we know, the children will be hated asnobody was ever hated before. They'll be known for the deadly dangerthey are. We're primitives, beside their civilization! We'll have tofight, because there's no room for the population of another wholeworld, here! There's no food for more people! We can't let them come, and they must die if they don't come, and the children must be here toopen the way for them to come in hordes. 

"The children mustn't be allowed to build anything we don't understandor that might let them open communication with their people. If theytry, they'll be trying to serve their own race by destroying this. Andthey'd have to destroy us and--" his voice was fierce--"I'm not going tolet anything happen to you!"

Gail's cheeks were white, but a trace of color came into them then. Yetshe looked remorseful as she glanced forward to where the childrenmurmured hopelessly together. 

CHAPTER 5

The jet transport got new flight orders while it was in the air overSouth Carolina. There was a new attitude toward their ship and itsoccupants among the military men and the political heads ofgovernments. The new attitude was the result of mathematics. 

It was the burst of static screaming, three whole seconds long, whichmade the matter something much more than a thing to maneuver with andmake public pronouncements about. In every nation it eventually occurredto somebody to compute the power in that meaningless signal. It waslinked with the appearance of the children's ship--which nobody reallybelieved had contained children--and therefore it was artificial. Butthe power, the energy involved was incredible. The computations went todefense departments and heads of state. They reacted. And in consequencethe jet-plane was ordered to change course and head west. 

After many hours the transport landed. A hillside rose before it. Avast, grass-covered area lifted up. It was a great door. The transportrolled deliberately into a monstrous, windowless, artificial cavern, andthe hillside closed behind it. 

This was a base, too, but not like the one at Gissell Bay. The existenceof this one would be denied. It was hoped that it would be foreverunused for its designed purpose. Soames never saw any part of it that hewas not supposed to see. Nobody ever mentioned to him any function itcould perform except the hiding of children from a spaceship thathappened to have crashed on Antarctica. But he guessed that if atomicwar should ever burst on Earth, that rockets rising from this place andothers like it would avenge the destruction done to America. 

 * * * * *

Presently Gail and the children were installed in a remarkably ordinarysmall cottage, and Soames frowned. They'd arrived at the village byelevator from a tunnel hundreds of feet underground, but the village inwhich the cottage stood looked exactly like any other remote and sleepysettlement. Soames began a protest against Gail being so isolated and somuch alone. But, unsmilingly, he was shown that there was an electrifiedfence, with guards, and another a mile beyond, and a third stillfarther, with watch-posts beyond that. Nobody would intrude upon thevillage. But from the air it would look perfectly commonplace. There wasno indication at all of shafts from deep underground to what appeared anordinary country general store. There was no sign of tunnels from thedifferent houses to that merchandising mart. 

Soames went off to be assigned other quarters. He wanted to work on someitems that had come into his mind during the last hours of the flight. He'd guessed, to Gail, that the children came out of remotest time. There was evidence for it, but it need not be true. So he'd made atest. 

When the children had breakfasted he drew on a sketch-pad a diagram ofpart of the solar system. A dot for the sun, and a circle with a dot onit for Mercury, the innermost planet. Another dot on a circle for Venus, the second world out. A third circle and a dot for Earth and its orbit, and beside the dot indicating Earth he drew a crescent, for the moon. Alongside the dot standing for Mars he drew two crescents, because Marshas two tiny moons. 

The children discussed the diagram. Zani ended it with a decisive remarkin the language they used. Fran drew a fifth circle, placed a dot toindicate a fifth planet, and put four crescents beside it, then drew asixth circle with a large dot and drew twelve crescents beside that. 

Soames drew a deep breath. The twelve-moon planet was certainly Jupiter, which is now next out from the sun after Mars. The number of moons madeit unmistakable. But Fran put a Fifth Planet, with four moons, where nowthere is only planetary debris, the asteroids. 

The diagram quite distinctly proved, to Soames' satisfaction, that thehypothetical Fifth Planet had existed, with four moons, and that thechildren had come out of time rather than across space. And he was nowgrimly sure about the reason for the children's coming to Earth of hereand now. 

Bombardment from space is not unknown. In 1914 there was a meteoric fallin Siberia which knocked down every tree for fifty miles around. A fewthousand years earlier, eight or ten, Canon Diablo crater was formed inColorado by a missile from the heavens which wiped out all life within athousand-mile radius. Earlier still a much larger crater was formed inCanada, and there are yet traces of an even more remote monster-missilelanding in South Africa. The ring-mountain there is largely worn away, but it was many miles across. 

 * * * * *

The situation of the children's race amounted to an infinitelyspeeded-up bombardment instead of a millennial sniping from the sky. TheFifth Planet was newly shattered into bits. Its fragments plunged uponEarth and moon as they had weeks earlier battered Mars, and asfortnights later they would devastate Venus and plunge upon Mercury. Jagged portions of the detonated planet filled the sky of Earth withflames. 

The ground shook continuously. With a mad imprecision of timing, mountain-ranges plummeted out of the sky at utterly unpredictable timesand places. Anywhere on Earth, at night-time, living creatures mightlook upward and see the stars blotted out in irregularly-shaped, swiftlyenlarging areas which would grow until there was only blacknessoverhead. But that could not last. It turned abruptly to white-hotincandescence as the falling enormity touched atmosphere, and crasheddown upon them. 

No living thing which saw the sky all turned to flame lived to rememberit. Not one survived. Obviously! They were turned to wisps ofincandescent gas, exploding past the normal limits of Earth's air. Somemay have seen such plungings from many miles away and died of theconcussion. The ground heaved in great waves which ran terribly in alldirections. Vast chasms opened in the soil, and flames as of hell flowedout of them. Seashores were overwhelmed by mountainous tidal waves, caused by cubic miles of seawater turned to steam when islands fell intothe ocean at tens of miles per second. 

This was what happened to Earth in the time from which the childrencame. Perhaps their elders had foreseen it in time to take somemeasures, which would be the children's ship. But that ship had beenbuilt very hastily. It could have been begun before the bombardmentstarted, or it could have been completed only near the end, whenasteroids already plunged into defenseless Earth and it heaved andwrithed in agony. 

Humans caught in such a cosmic trap would be in no mood to negotiate ormake promises, if any sort of beachhead to the future could be set up. They would pour through and the world of the present must simplydissolve into incoherence. There could be no peace. It was unthinkable. 

 * * * * *

The investigation-team from the East arrived to learn from Soames allabout the landing of the ship. 

He told them, giving them the tape from the wave-guide radar andspeaking with strict precision of every event up to the moment of hisarrival at Gissell Bay with the children and their artifacts. He did notmention telepathy or time-travel because they seemed so impossible. 

When the military men wanted information about instantly availablesuper-weapons, he told them that he knew nothing of weapons. They'd haveto judge from the gadgets the children had brought. When thepublic-relations men asked briskly from what other planet or solarsystem the spaceship had come, and when a search-ship might be expected, looking for the children, he was ironic. He suggested that the childrenmight give that information if asked in the proper language. He didn'tknow it. But the two physicists were men whose names he knew andrespected. They listened to what he said. They'd look at the devicesfrom the ship and then come back and talk to him. 

He went back to his brooding. The children had travelled through time. Everything pointed to it, from the meteor-watch radar to the children'sreaction at sight of the pock-marked moon and their knowledge thatthere should have been a Fifth Planet, to which they assigned fourmoons. It had happened. Positively. But there was one small difficulty. If time-travel were possible, a man travelling about in the past mightby some accident kill his grandfather, or his father, in which case hecould not be born, and hence could not possibly go back in time. But ifhe did not go back in time he would be born and could face thepossibility of preventing his own existence--if time-travel waspossible. But this was impossible, so time-travel was impossible. 

On a higher technical level, there is just one law of nature which seemsinfallibly true, since its latest modification to allow for nuclearenergy. It is the law of the conservation of mass and energy. The totalof energy and matter taken together in the universe as a whole, cannotchange. Matter can be converted to energy and doubtless energy tomatter, but the total is fixed for all time and for each instant oftime. So, if a ship could move from one time-period to another, it wouldlessen the total of matter and energy in the time-period it left, andincrease the total when--where--where-when it arrived. And this wouldmean that the law of the conservation of mass and energy was wrong. Butit wasn't. It was right. 

Soames tried to reconcile what he had to accept with what he knew. Hefailed. He provisionally conceded that the children's civilization didsomething which in his frame of reference was impossible. They had otherframes of reference than his. He tried to find their frame of referencein something simpler than time-travel. He picked one impossibleaccomplishment and tried to duplicate it, then to approach it, then toparallel it. He scribbled and diagrammed and scowled and sweated. He hadno real hope, of course. But presently he swore abruptly and stared atwhat he had drawn. 

 * * * * *

He'd begun a second set of diagrams when the two physicists of theinvestigation-team came back. There was a short man and a thin one. Theylooked dazed. 

"They are children, " said the thin man in a very thin voice, "and theyare human children, and their science makes us ridiculous. They arecenturies ahead of us. I could not understand any device they had. Icould not imagine how any of them worked. "

"It is impossible to talk at a distance, " said Soames. 

"What do you mean?" asked the thin man, still numb from what he'd seen. 

"Sound diminishes as the square of the distance, " Soames explained. "Youcan't make a sound--unless you use a cannon--that can be heard ten milesaway. It's impossible to talk at a distance. "

"I feel crazy too, " said the short man, "but there are telephones. "

"It's not talking at a distance. You talk to a microphone at a fewinches. Someone listens to a receiver held against his ear. You don'ttalk to the man, but the microphone. He doesn't listen to you, but areceiver. The effect is the same as talking at a distance, so you ignorethe fact that it isn't. I've played a game with the things the childrenbrought. I won it, one game. "

Both men listened intently. 

"I've been pretending, " said Soames, "that I'm a member of the kids'race, cast away like they are on Earth. As a castaway I know that thingscan be done that the local savages--us--consider impossible. But I needspecial materials to do them with. My civilization has provided them. They don't exist here. But I refuse to sink to barbarism. Yet I can'treconstruct my civilization. What can I do?"

 * * * * *

The thin physicist suddenly raised his head. The short man looked up. 

"I'll take what materials the savages of Earth can supply, " said Soames. "I'll settle for an approximation. And in practice, as a castaway in asavage environment, I'll wind up with a civilization which isn't that ofthe savages, and isn't of my own race, but in some ways is better thaneither because it's tailored to fit the materials at hand and theenvironment I'm in. "

The short physicist said slowly:

"I think I see what you're driving at. But it's just an idea. .. . "

"I tried it on that one-way heat conductor, " said Soames. "I can'tduplicate it. But I've designed something that will mean nearly but notquite what their cooking-pot does. Take a look at this. "

He spread out the completed diagram of the first thing he'd worked on. It was quite clear. He'd helped design the meteor-watch radar at GissellBay, and his use of electronic symbols was normal. There was only onepart of the device that he'd needed to sketch in some detail. The thinphysicist traced the diagram. 

"You've designed a coil with extremely low self-induction--"

"Not low, " corrected Soames. "Negative. This has less than noself-induction. It feeds back to instead of fighting an applied current. Put any current in it, and it feeds back to increase the magnetism untilit reaches saturation. Then it starts to lose its magnetism and thatfeeds back a counter-emf which increases the demagnetizing current untilit's saturated with opposite polarity. You get an alternating magnet, which doesn't evolve heat because of its magnetic instability, butabsorbs heat trying to maintain its stability. This thing will absorbheat from anywhere--the air, water, sunlight or what have you--and giveout electric current. "

The two scientists stared, and traced the diagram again, and stared ateach other. 

"It--should!" said the thin man. "It--it has to! This is magnificent!It's more important than one-way heat conduction! This is . .. "

"This is not nearly as convenient as a pot that gets cold on the outsideso it can get hot on the inside, " observed Soames. "From a castaway'sstandpoint it's crude. But this is what can happen from twocivilizations affecting each other without immediately resorting tomurder. You might try it. "

The two physicists blinked. Then the short man said uneasily:

"Can we do it?"

The thin man said more feverishly than before:

"Of course! Look at that weather-making thing! We can't duplicate itexactly, but when you think-- There's no Hall effect in liquids. Nobodyever tried to find one in ionized gases. But when you think--"

The short man gulped. Then he said:

"You won't change the temperature, and to make an equation--"

They talked to each other, feverishly. They scribbled. They almostbabbled in their haste. When the other members of the investigating-teamarrived, they had the look of men who walk on clouds. 

The military men were not happy. They were empty-handed. They could noteven get statistical information from the children. 

They had no useful information. Fran's pocket instrument was cryptic, and held no promise as a weapon. They could not hope to duplicate whatSoames had called a super-radar. The cooking-pot, if duplicated, mightby modification supply power for ships and submarines, or even planes. But there were no weapons. None. 

 * * * * *

The public-relations men were frightened. The children's coming mustproduce a financial panic. All of Earth's civilization was demonstrablyout of date. Earth technology was so old-fashioned that instantly itsobsolescence was realized, our economic system must fall apart. 

Only the two physicists beamed at each other. They'd learned noscientific facts from the children or their equipment, but they'd pickedup a trick of thinking from Soames. 

By that time it was night. Soames went again to the surprisinglyordinary cottage that Gail occupied with the four children. 

"I've had quite a day, " said Gail tiredly. "And I'm worried; for thechildren. For you. For myself. I'm--I'm terrified, Brad!"

He put out his hands. He steadied her. Then, without intending it, heheld her close. She did not resist. She cried heart-brokenly on hisshoulder from pure nervous strain. 

Suddenly Captain Moggs appeared. Gail was immediately composed andremote. But one hand, holding Soames' sleeve, still quivered a little. 

"It's dreadful!" said Captain Moggs. "You'll never be able to believewhat's happened! The Russians have pictures of the spaceship! Thepictures Mr. Soames took! They know everything! They must have gottenthe pictures when their planes landed at Gissell Bay! But how?"

 * * * * *

Soames could have answered, and quite accurately. Some enterprisingmember of the Russian scientific team had been left alone in thedeveloping-room at the base. 

"They gave copies of the pictures to the UN assembly, " wailed CaptainMoggs. "All of them! They say they are pictures of the alien ship whichlanded--and they are--and they say that we Americans took the crew tothe United States--which we did--but they say we're now making a treatywith the non-human monsters who came in the ship! They say that we'reselling out the rest of humanity! That we're making a bargain to betraythe world to horrors out of space, in return for safety for ourselves!They demand that the United Nations take over the ship and its crew. "

Soames whistled softly. The charge was just insane enough to becredited. There was no longer a ship, too, and the children were farfrom monsters. So there was no way to convince anyone that America evenmade an honest attempt to satisfy or answer the complaint. The matter ofthe children and their ship had been badly handled. But there was no wayto handle it well. The coming of the children was a catastrophe any wayyou looked at it. 

"There was nothing to be done, " mourned Captain Moggs, "but state thefacts. Our delegation said the ship crashed on landing, and itsoccupants needed time to recover from the shock and to develop some wayto communicate with us. Our delegation said a complete report hadn'teven been made to our government, but that one will be prepared and madepublic immediately. "

Gail looked up at Soames in the darkness. He nodded. 

"That report, " said Soames. "That's us. Particularly you. "

"Yes, " said Gail confidently. "You write the technical side, and I'll doa human-interest story for the UN that will make everybody love them!"

Soames felt more than usually a scoundrel. 

"Hold it, " he said unhappily. "It's all right to make the kidsattractive, but not too much. Do you remember why?"

Gail stopped short. 

"They don't come from a comfortably distant solar system, " said Soames, more unhappily still. "They come from Earth, from another time, wherethere are mountains falling from the sky. And the children's familieshave to stay right where they are until flaming islands turn their skyto flame and crash down on them to destroy them. Because we can't letthem come here. "

Gail stared up at him, and all the life went out of her face. 

"Oh, surely!" she said with bitterness. "Surely! That's right! We can'tafford it! I don't know about you or the rest of the world, but I'mgoing to hate myself all the rest of my life!"

CHAPTER 6

Soames, remembering Rex, got two puppies for the children next morning. He was inside the cottage when Captain Moggs turned up. He watched Maland Hod, outside on the lawn, playing with the two small dogs. Zani satat a table indoors, drawing. Gail had shown her pictures of cities andprovided her with paper and soft pencils. Zani grasped the ideaimmediately. She drew, without remarkable skill but with a certainpleasing directness. Now she drew a city while Gail hovered near. 

"I reported to Washington of your willingness to work on the report, Mr. Soames, " said Captain Moggs with gratification. "Your status has beenclarified. The papers are on the way here now. "

Soames started a little. From where he stood, he could watch Mal and Hodout of a window, and by turning his eyes he could see Zani. She couldsee nothing that went on where Mal cuddled one puppy, girl-fashion, while Hod played in quite another fashion with the other. The window wasbehind Zani. 

Soames had not been too attentive. He realized it. 

"What's that, Captain?"

"Your status is clarified, " said Captain Moggs, authoritatively. "Youhave been appointed a civilian consultant. You had no official statusbefore. The bookkeeping problem was serious. Now you have a civilservice status, a rating, an assimilated rank and a securityclassification. "

Soames turned again to watch the children out-of-doors. Fran came aroundfrom the back of the cottage. He carried something in his hands. It wasa white rabbit. He'd brought it to show Mal and Hod. They put down thepuppies and gazed at it in amazement, stroking its fur and talkinginaudibly. 

Soames looked swiftly at Zani. Her pencil had ceased to make strokesupon the paper. She had the expression of someone watching absorbedly, though her eyes were on the paper before her. 

Gail stirred, and Soames made a gesture to her. Puzzled, she came to hisside. He said quietly:

"Watch the kids outside and Zani at the same time. "

Fran retrieved the rabbit and went away with it, to give it back to itsowners. Zani returned to her drawing. The two children outside went backto the puppies. One small dog sprawled triumphantly over the other withan expression of bland amiability on his face. For no reason at all, hebegan to chew meditatively on the other puppy's ear. His victimprotested with no indignation at all. 

 * * * * *

Zani, with her back to the scene, giggled to herself. The two childrenoutdoors separated the puppies to play with them again, individually. 

"Zani knew, " said Soames under his breath. "She knew what the otherssaw. "

"It happens all the time, " said Gail in a similar low tone. "I'venoticed, since you pointed it out. But they aren't telepaths! They talkto each other constantly. If they were telepaths they wouldn't need to. "

Captain Moggs exclaimed. She'd gone to look at Zani's drawing:

"Really, Gail, the child draws very nicely! But do you think she shouldwaste time on pictures like this, when it's so important that she andthe others learn English?"

Gail said quietly:

"She's drawing pictures of her own world. That's a city like her peoplebuild. I thought it would be a good idea to get such pictures from her. "

Gail went to look at the drawing, at which Zani labored with a younggirl's complacent absorption in something she knows will be approved bya grown-up when it's done. With a gesture, Gail invited Soames to look. He did. 

Zani had drawn the sky-line of a city, but it was an odd one. There weretall buildings, but their walls were draping, catenary curves. Therewere splendid towers and soaring highways, which leaped across emptinessto magnificent landings. There were groups of structures with nostraight line visible anywhere. 

"Interesting, " said Soames. "That kind of building has been suggested asultra-modern architecture. They don't have an external steel frame. There's a central mast from which all the floors are hung. They have tobe braced by cables, which make catenary curves like suspension-bridgeson end. "

Zani went on with her drawing. Gail said:

"It isn't fantasy, then. Look at this. It's a--maybe you'll call it acar. Only it looks like a sled. Or maybe a motorcycle. "

She showed him a finished sketch. With a childish directness, yet asingular effect of direct observation, Zani had drawn a vehicle. It didnot have wheels. It rested on what looked like two short, thick runnerslike skids. 

"This isn't fantasy, either, " said Soames. "There've been wheellessvehicles built lately. They're held an inch or so above the ground bycolumns of air pouring out. They ride on cushions of air. But they haveto have perfect highways. It isn't likely that a child would draw themif she hadn't seen them. "

In silence, Gail showed other sketches. A man and woman in costumessomehow related to those the children had worn at the beginning. Therewas a picture of a group of people. 

"Odd, " said Soames. "Everybody wears a belt like the children have onnow. Everybody. As if it were official. "

He glanced at Zani. She wore a belt over American-style young-girl'sclothing today. The belt was neither leather nor plastic nor anythingthat could have a name put to it. It had two round and two squaremedallions placed two on each side of the fastening, which was not abuckle. The others wore the same. Soames puzzled over it for a moment. 

Gail offered him another sheet of paper. 

"I'm going to tear this up when you've seen it. "

It was a landscape, sketched in with surprisingly bold strokes of thesoft pencil. The time was night. Near the bottom of the picture therewas a city of the strange, catenary-curve architecture. It was drawn sosmall, though, that most of the picture was black sky. But there was ablazing light upon the city, and it came from something monstrous andjagged and incandescent and vast, plunging upon the city from the sky, trailing flames behind it. 

"And this, " said Gail, very quietly. 

It was a picture of a crater, a ring-mountain, the scene of the impactof something terrible and huge. It was a chasm with circular, brokenrocky walls. There was a fallen tree in the foreground, near the spotfrom which the sketch seemed to have been made. 

"You're right not to show anyone else those drawings, " said Soames. "Thekids are in a bad enough fix as visitors of a superior race. If itshould be realized that they're not here by accident, but somehow toopen a way for invasion by the population of a whole planet, well, youcan just imagine . .. "

 * * * * *

Zani giggled suddenly, and he jumped. But her eyes were on the paperbefore her. Soames glanced out the window. Mal had toppled over, and oneof the puppies had climbed valiantly on her back and was pulling withall his tiny might at a puppy-mouthful of her hair. His tail waggedvigorously the while. Hod laughed, and Mal giggled, and inside thecottage Zani--who could not see what had happened--giggled with them. 

"She couldn't see it, but she knew what happened, " said Soames. "Isuspect this place is so top-secret that it's a breach of security toremember it outside. If anybody notices that little trick the kids cando, they'll be suspected of casually inspecting high-secrecy stuffwhile drawing pictures or playing with little dogs. "

 * * * * *

Soames returned to his quarters. He set to work upon the highlynecessary task of pretending that he was a castaway from the children'scivilization in order to improvise conveniences that as a castaway he'dconsider crude, but as an aborigine amazing. 

From time to time, though, he wondered sardonically about thepublic-relations program on the children. He'd prepared a completereport about the ship, telling in detail about its arrival and addingeverything he could infer about the civilization that had made it, except its location on the Earth of aeons ago and its imminent doom. Gail had written what she considered the best human-interest story ofher life about the children. Neither report was asked for. Nobody knewwhere either was to be sent. Soames guessed sardonically at a change ofpolicy somewhere. 

But the problem justified worry, the simple, relatively insignificantproblem of the children here and now, with all thought of flaming skiesand upheaved earth put firmly aside. 

The children had to be revealed. But the world would automaticallyassume that the crew of an alien spaceship must be in some fashionmonsters. But four nicely raised children? Space-travellers? Spaceshipsnavigated by boys and girls who liked to play with puppies? Suchinnocuous persons to represent the most deadly danger the modern worldhad faced?

But they did represent it. There was no way out of the fact. And somehowthe facts had to be put across. The public-relations counsellors who hadinterviewed the children pointed out the means. They got the job. 

The advance publicity was thoroughly professional. The spaceship'scompany was to be revealed in the most stupendous broadcast of all time. For the second time in history, a trans-Atlantic relay patrol would formtwo relay-channels from North America to Europe. It would reach Japanvia the Aleutians and a relay-ship, by wire from Japan to all Asiaand--again relayed--to Australia. South Africa would get the coverage byland-wire down the continent from the Pillars of Hercules. TheMediterranean basin, the Near East, Scandinavia, and even Iceland wouldsee the spectacle. Detailed instructions were given to Gail to give tothe children. 

The very top feminine TV personality of America would serve as hostess, substituting for Gail, who must try to make the children understand. Miss Linda Beach could establish a personal contact with any audience. One had only to watch her to respond to her charm, her wholesomeness, her adroit sincerity. She had sold soap, automobiles, vitamin tabletsand dessicated soup. Obviously, she was the perfect saleswoman for thechildren out of space. 

"I hope the professionals know what they're doing, " Soames had said toGail. "I'm a simple soul who'd be inclined to tell the truth withouttrimmings. It might not be easy, and it might not be comfortable, but itwould be fact. "

 * * * * *

A small fast transport came to get the children and Gail and Soames. Ittook off. 

Soames took a seat beside Fran. He took out a pencil and a pad of paper. He drew a sketch of a boy flying a kite, and added a close-up drawing ofthe kite. He drew a boy walking on stilts, and a drawing of how stiltswere made. Soames hadn't actually seen a boy walking on stilts foryears, and it might now be a lost art, but Fran showed interest. Soamesdrew a bicycle with a boy on it, and then modified the bike into amotorcycle. He hoped his sketches would strike Fran as interesting, ifprimitive, things a boy might do for his own satisfaction. 

Fran was intrigued. Presently he took the pencil and made sketches ofhis own. A boy with a belt like his rode something which vaguelyresembled a sledge or a motorcycle. He made a detailed drawing of arunner. This was an air-sled, such as Zani had pictured in moreelaborate form. Fran sketched the air-column generator, and it wasutterly simple and a boy of fourteen could make it. After painfulscrutiny Soames realized that it was a ram-jet engine which would startitself and operate in still air. In the modern world, it would makegas-turbine engines practical for locomotives and motorcars. 

The transport landed. A motorcycle escort surrounded the car with drawncurtains which carried the children from Idlewild into New York. In timethe car dived down into the freight entrance of the new CommunicationsBuilding on 59th Street. Secret Service men had cleared all corridors sothe children reached their dressing-rooms unseen. 

Linda Beach appeared an hour later and began the rehearsal. 

The children gathered the purpose of the thing by watching the monitors. They chattered together, and the girls went pleasantly through what wasexpected of them. Hod seemed quite numb, and Fran scowled. But he wasmore gracious when he saw Soames going through similar antics. 

The rehearsal ended. There was another long wait. This was to introducethe children--from a totally unknown and superior civilization--to aworld which considered them strangers from space, when they wereactually from a much more improbable homeland. The world was waiting tosee this. Time dragged. 

All over the world people were waiting to get a first glimpse ofcreatures whose coming might mean the end of the world. 

Presently it began. 

The show, naturally, opened with a tremendous fanfare of trumpets, played from tape. 

Then Linda Beach appeared. She introduced Gail and Soames and CaptainMoggs. 

This broadcast was supposed to be strictly informative. It was, however, produced with the attitude and the technique and the fineprofessionalism of specialists in the area of subconscious selling. Soit put its audience--the vast majority of it--into the exact mood ofpeople who surrender themselves to mildly lulling make-believe. WhenCaptain Moggs told of the finding of the ship, her authoritative mannerand self-importance made people feel, without regard to their thoughts, that she was an un-funny comedian. The audience remembered withdecreasing concern that some interesting monsters were supposed to be inthe show later and that they were waiting to see them. 

The introduction of the children was a disappointment, but a mild one. When they were produced and identified, the television-watching syndromewas fully developed. There was a feeling, of course, that the show felldown in interest and that it did not live up to its advance publicity. But the television audience is used to that. Its members continued towatch with slightly dulled eyes, listening with partly attentive ears, automatically waiting for a commercial when it could get some beer or anequivalent without missing anything. 

Even when tumult and confusion began; when Linda Beach tried to hold theshow together in the teeth of uproar behind her, the tranquillized stateof the audience continued. When Linda Beach's necklace was snatched fromher neck it seemed intended to be funny. 

It wasn't until the very end that anything occurred really to break themood professionally produced shows are designed to achieve. Thatoccurrence startled the viewers out of their semi-comatose state, justas blatant obscenity or intolerable profanity would have done. LindaBeach, in fine sincerity and in tribute to the children, made astatement which was utterly explosive. When the show ended, people allover the world were roused and horrified and enraged. 

Only small children, waiting in space-helmets and with ray-guns ready, complained aggrievedly that there hadn't been any monsters. The adultsfelt that there had been. That there were. 

They hated the children with a strictly personal hatred based on paniccombined with shame. 

CHAPTER 7

Soames' rehearsed part in the broadcast was finished after he and Gailand Captain Moggs had told the story of the finding of the ship. Theirnarratives were deftly guided by Linda Beach's questions. 

Soames wanted to get out of sight. He was sunk in gloom. It was a showinstead of what he would have considered a presentation of the facts, though nearly everything said had been factual. He left the studio. 

In an uninhabited room he found himself staring out a window, down atthe crowd before the Communications Building. 

It was a restless crowd, now. The ground-floor plate-glass windows hadbeen filled with television screens, and those near them could see thebroadcast and hear it through out-door loud-speakers. But this crowd wasa special one, in that it hadn't gathered to see the broadcast butextraterrestrial monsters, in the flesh or fur or scales or however theymight appear. It now knew that the monsters had arrived and there was nochance of seeing them direct. It had been harangued by orators andpeople who already began to call themselves humanity-firsters. It feltcheated. 

There were a large number of teen-agers in the crowd. 

At the window, Soames recognized the oddity of the crowd below him. Anordinary, curiosity-seeking crowd would contain a considerablepercentage of women. This did not. There were shouting voices whichSoames heard faintly. They were orators declaiming assorted emotionalopinions about monsters from space, obviously in the belief that theywere beyond dispute and needed to be acted on at once. There wascompetition among these orators. Some had bands of supporters aroundthem to aid their effectiveness by applause and loud agreement. Soamessaw, too, at least one hilarious group of college-age boys who mighthave been organized by a college humor magazine. They waved cardboardsigns. "_Space-Monsters Go Home!_"

The unattended monitor set, placed around some corner in a corridor, gave out an excellently modulated reproduction of the program going onthe air. An Italian physicist asked questions about the qualificationsof such young children as space navigators. Soames listenedabstractedly. He knew unhappily that if the children weren't convincingas visitors from space, they'd be much less plausible in their trueroles as fugitives out of time. 

 * * * * *

The collegians surged here and there, making a demonstration in favor ofmirth. There were also youthful members of less innocuous groups, swaggering, consciously ominous members of organizations known as theMaharajas and the Comets and the Toppers. Members of these groups eyedmembers of other such groups with challenging, level gazes. 

Voices harangued. Collegians attempted to sing what must have seemed tothem a deliciously satirical song. But it did not please thenon-collegian Maharajas or Comets or the Toppers. 

A Russian scientist took over on the broadcast. He had been flown to theUnited States especially for the occasion. He asked elaborate andcarefully loaded questions. They had been prepared as propagandastumpers by people who in their way were as skilled in public relationsas the producers of this show. Linda Beach applied the charm which hadsold soap, vitamins, automobiles and dessicated soup. Soames heard theexchanges from the monitor set. 

Outside, in the street, a brick suddenly fell among the collegians. Morebricks fell among those engaged in an impromptu meeting of HumanityFirsters. Police whistles blew. A plate-glass window crashed. Acollegian suddenly had a bloody face and a flying wedge of Maharajasscornfully cut through the formerly singing group, wielding belts andbludgeons for the honor of having started a riot on 57th Street. Theyfought past the college crowd and into a band of the Comets. There theyfound a rumble ready-made. Haranguing orators found themselves jostled. Fights broke out among members of groups which had come to stagedemonstrations against extraterrestrials. The fighting spread toindividuals. 

Police-car sirens wailed. Squad-cars came careening out ofuptown-traffic streets and converged on the tumult. The sirens producedviolent surgings of the crowd. There was a wild rush in this directionas a siren sounded from that, and then an equally wild rush in anotherdirection still as blazing headlights and a moving howl came fromelsewhere. Rushing figures surged against the doors to the lobby of theCommunications Building. 

Members of the Toppers and the Comets and the Maharajas and otherfanatics rushed up the stairs. There was a sign "_On the Air_" lightedfrom behind outside the studio in which the world-wide broadcast was inprogress. There was a door. They opened it. 

The watching world heard the racket as a former Nobel prize-winner'sstilted questions about the children were drowned out. This was not aplanned invasion. It was a totally chaotic rushing-about of people who'dbeen half hysterical to start with, who had been crushed in asenselessly swaying mob, had been pushed bodily into a building-lobbyjammed past endurance, and escaped into a maze from which they'dblundered into a studio with a broadcast going on. Stagehands andnecktie-less persons rushed to throw them out. But the noise grewgreater while Linda Beach tried gamely to cover it up. 

It was not easy. In fact, it was impossible. One of the Toppers foundhimself cornered by two stagehands and dashed triumphantly across thatsacrosanct space, the area in a camera's field of vision. He racedbehind Linda Beach, then smiling pleasantly and talking at the top ofher voice to cover the noise behind her. The Topper snatched as he wentby. Linda Beach staggered, and her necklace broke, and this particularjuvenile delinquent plunged into the crowd by the doorway and wormed hisway through to lose himself in the crush outside. 

But now the cops from the squad-cars were at work. 

 * * * * *

The lobby began to be partially cleared. Fugitives from panic came downinto the street where they were commanded to get moving and keep moving. They did. 

And Soames arrived at the studio. He'd fought his way there with a sortof white-hot passion, because Gail was where this lunatic mob mighttrample her. He raged, and then he saw her standing with precariouscomposure out of the way of everything. 

Fran dragged fiercely at his arm. His eyes burned. He thrust somethingupon Soames and frantically repeated the one word of his scanty Englishvocabulary which seemed to fit. The word was, "Try! Try! Try!" Hereached around Soames' waist and linked a belt about him. 

Soames had the abrupt conviction that he was going mad. He stood, himself, in the studio where the tumult was now almost ended. But helooked up at himself from the level of his own breast. Also he was downin the lobby of the Communications Building, mingling with the thinningmob there, allowing himself to be shepherded out into the street. Therehe was surrounded by people taller than himself. That part of hisawareness reached the open air and moved swiftly westward. That part ofhim put his hand in his pocket--but Soames had nothing to do with theaction--and felt things there. There was a chain with sharp-edged, faceted things on it. There was a belt with shaped metallic objectsfastened to it. .. . 

"Try!" cried Fran desperately. "Try!"

And suddenly Soames realized. He heard the street-sounds through someoneelse's ears. He saw the street through someone else's eyes. Simultaneously he saw himself in the studio through someone else's eyes, Fran's. And this explained the behavior of the children with puppies andEnglish lessons and items of information which all of them seemed toknow when one knew. The children were not telepathic. They could notread each other's minds. But some one or all of the decorative squaresand circles on their belts enabled them to share each other'ssense-impressions. They were both broadcasters and receivers of sensoryimpressions. And therefore it was because Soames had Mal's belt abouthim that he could see what Fran saw, and hear what Fran heard, and alsohe saw and heard and felt what an oily-haired member of the Toppers sawand heard and felt with Hod's belt in his pocket beside Linda Beach'snecklace, snatched from her neck even before the camera. 

But there was no sign that the oily-haired person saw or heard or feltwhat Soames did. Perhaps because he was not wearing the belt, but onlyhad it crumpled together in his pocket. 

"Right!" said Soames harshly. "I'll get it back!"

He plunged toward the studio door. There had been Secret Service menassigned to guard the children. Soames caught one of them by theshoulder. 

"The kids have been robbed, " he snapped in the Secret Service man's ear. "Secret device! We've got to get it back! I can do it! Come along!"

 * * * * *

The Secret Service man instantly followed him. And Soames tore throughthe scared people still aimlessly wandering about. He plunged down thestairs. A squad-car cop moved to check his rush, and the Secret Serviceman panted an identification and a need. The cop abandoned all othermatters and followed, too. 

Soames needed to close his eyes to see what the Topper saw. He blinkedthem shut while he ran three paces. The Topper walked, now. He'd beenjoined by two friends. Soames heard his voice, he even felt the motionsof his lips and tongue in speech. He boasted that he'd snatched thebeads off Linda Beach's neck, and got a fancy belt one of thosefunny-dressed kids was wearing. 

Half a block. Two more of the Toppers joined the bragging snatcher. Theyalso heard of his grand achievement. The Topper drew his loot partlyfrom his pocket to prove his boast. They looked, and swaggered, andwhooped to others of their fellowship. 

Soames pelted around a corner, turning it without warning. The SecretService man and the cop lost a dozen paces. Soames raced ahead. Therewas a cluster of late-teen-age boys on the sidewalk of Eighth Avenue. They wanted to see the loot. 

Soames plunged into them. Without a word, he tackled and bore to theground the one in whose pocket Hod's belt and Linda Beach's necklacestill reposed. 

Their reaction was instant. The Toppers were in a close group. Soameshit it and fell to the ground atop one of their number. The othersinstantly attacked him as if by reflex action. They stamped and kickedviciously. 

But there was a cop and a Secret Service man on the way. They struck. The Toppers turned to fight and fled instead at the sight of two adultsalready administering punishment to those within reach and coming on toreach others. 

The two officers pulled Soames to his feet. In seconds he'd been badlybattered. He pulled Hod's belt out from the pocket of the snarling, now-pallid member of the Toppers, who was half-strangled and shaken. Hegot the necklace. Numbly, he felt again and found a stray stone or two. 

"All right, " he said thickly. "I got it. I'll get back to the kids withit. "

 * * * * *

The cop took the Topper. Soames and the Secret Service man got back tothe studio. The show was still on. Soames exhaustedly handed Hod hisbelt, and stripped off the other belt that Fran had put on him. He gaveit back to Fran. Fran's eyes still burned, but he regarded Soames withdefinite respect. Perhaps there was even liking. And Soames held up therecovered necklace for Linda Beach to see, though she was then stillbefore the camera. 

She was a seasoned performer. Without blinking an eye she changed whatshe was saying, called on Gail to have the children demonstrate thedevices they'd brought from the wrecked ship, and came to Soames. Shecounted the stones swiftly, and asked questions. 

He told her. It would come out, necessarily. The children had, builtinto their belts, devices which produced an effect on the order oftelepathy. But it was not telepathy. Undoubtedly the devices could beturned on or off. Turned on, they linked together the senses of thosewho wore them, not the minds, but the senses. Each saw what the otherssaw, and heard what the others heard, and felt with the rest. Butthoughts were not shared. Such a device would not be confusing if onewere used to it, and two men working together could co-operate with athousand times the effectiveness of men without them. Children playingtogether could have a degree of companionship otherwise impossible. Andfour children upon a desperate voyage, without adults to reassure them, would need this close linkage with their fellows. It would give themcourage. They could be more resolute. 

Linda Beach went back to camera-position and waited until thedemonstration of the pocket metal-cutting device, by Fran, was ended. Then she signalled for her own camera and definitely put on the charm. She showed the necklace. She said it had been stolen. She said that thechildren were telepaths, and by the reading of the criminal's mind hehad been tracked down through the crowded streets outside the studio, and her necklace recovered. 

It is always better to say something that is not quite the truth but isperfectly understandable than something which is true but bewildering. This is a cardinal rule in television. Never bewilder your audience! SoLinda Beach did not bewilder her audience by accurate statement. Shetold them something they would understand. It made the childrenconvincingly more than merely ordinary children. 

It shocked her world-wide audience out of that bemused condition theprofessionalism of the broadcast had produced. It lifted them out oftheir seats, those who were seated. It tended to lift the hair of therest, those who realized that monsters from space who could read humanminds were utterly invincible and infinitely to be dreaded. No matterwhat the children looked like, now, they had been declared on anofficial fact-revealing broadcast to be extraterrestrial monsters whocould read human minds!

It raised hell. 

Once said, it could not be withdrawn. It could be denied, but it wouldbe believed. In higher echelons of government all over the world itproduced such raging hatred of the children and the United Statestogether as made all previous tensions seem love-feasts by comparison. In Russia it was instantly and bitterly believed that all Sovietmilitary secrets were now in process of being plucked from Russianbrains and given to the American military. Rage came from helplessnessin the face of such an achievement. There could be no way to stop suchespionage, and military action would be hopeless if the Americans knewall about it before it was tried. In more tranquil nations there wasdeep uneasiness, and in some there was terror. And everywhere that menhated or stole or schemed--which was everywhere--the belief thateverybody's secrets were open to the children filled men with rage. 

Of all public-relations enterprises in human history, the world-widebroadcast about the children was most disastrous. 

Soames and Gail could realize the absurdity of the thing, without anyhope of stopping or correcting it. 

 * * * * *

They went swiftly back to the hidden base in the Rockies. Soames stayedto have certain minor injuries attended to. Also he needed to get intouch with the two physicists who had seen the children and knowndespair, but who now played at being castaways with gratifying results. In part he was needed for endless, harassing consultations with peoplewho wanted urgently to disbelieve everything he said, and managed tohold on to a great deal of doubt. 

Meanwhile there came about a sullen and infuriated lessening ofinternational tension. No nation would dare plan a sneak attack onAmerica if it could be known in advance. And nobody dared make threatsif the United States could know exactly how much of the threat wasgenuine. 

Captain Moggs flew busily back and forth between the east and the hiddenmissile base to which the children had been returned. She informedSoames that the decorated belts had been taken away from the children. One of them had been opened up and the round and square medallions on itexamined. One decoration was undoubtedly the case for thesensory-linkage apparatus. There was a way to turn it on and off. Itcontained a couple of eccentrically shaped bits of metal. That was all. Duplicated, the duplicates did nothing whatever. The other medallionsseemed to contain apparatus for purposes yet unguessed-at. One actuallyhad a minute moving part in it. But what it did was past imagining. 

Captain Moggs said authoritatively:

"It will take time but we'll find out what it does. Of course right nowall research is concentrated on the telepathic device. It will bedeveloped and before long we will be thoroughly informed about theweapons and the councils of other nations. It will be magnificent! We'llno longer have reason to be apprehensive of attack, and we can evaluateevery military situation with absolute precision!"

"Dammit!" snapped Soames. "The gadgets aren't telepathic! They don'ttransmit thoughts! They only exchange sensory information! And there'sno danger of the children finding out anything by telepathy when theycan only share the sensations of someone wearing a special device! Whatwould they do with military information if they had it?"

Captain Moggs looked mysterious. She departed, and Soames again cursedbitterly the situation he'd happened to create. But still he did not seehow he could have done otherwise than to destroy the children'shigh-power signalling device when they would have used it back onAntarctica. Yet he was not happy about the consequences of his act. 

 * * * * *

He found time to get in touch with the physicists who'd come out to theRocky Mountain base. They'd found a few others who could put themselvesinto the mental state of castaways who knew that a given device could bemade, and then tried to make something which wasn't it but had some ofits properties. In a way it was deliberate self-deception, but it wasdeliberate to circumvent a natural habit of the educated mind. A trainedman almost invariably tries to see what can be done with what he has andknows, instead of imagining what he wants and then trying to makesomething more or less like it, even if he has to look for the knowledgehe will need. It took a particular type of mind to use Soames' trick. Itwas necessary, for example, to imagine limitations to the operation of adesired device, or one's starting-point became mere fantasy. And nothingcould be made from fantasy. 

But Soames found frustration rampant even among the men who were mostsuccessful with the fantasy-trick. There were new devices. They weretriumphs. They were plainly the beginnings of progress of a brand-newkind, not derived wholly from the present, and certainly not imitativeof the children's. But the devices couldn't be used. Their existencecouldn't be revealed. Because anything of unprecedented design wouldseem to have been learned from the children, and the United Statesinsisted--truthfully--that so far it had learned nothing from them. Butnobody would believe it if a spate of astonishing technologicalimprovements began to appear in the United States. 

Dislike of America rose to new heights anyhow. But presently some traceof suspicion began to appear in the actions of the anti-Americannations. Before the broadcast, a dirty trick had been prepared againstAmerica. It developed and succeeded. It was not discovered until toolate. Somebody tried another one. It wasn't anticipated or stopped. Avery lively and extremely tempting idea occurred in quarters where theUnited States was much disliked. But nobody dared quite believe it--yet. 

Then Fran disappeared. He vanished as if into thin air. At one moment hewas in the heavily guarded surface area over the hidden base in theRockies. The next moment he was gone. Three separate lines ofelectrified fence protected the area from intrusion, with sentries andwatching-posts besides. But Fran disappeared as if he'd never been. Itwas not easy to imagine that he'd run away. His English was still verylimited. His ignorance of American ways was abysmal. He couldn't hope tohide and find food while accomplishing anything at all. On the otherhand, for him to have been kidnapped out of the top-secret base wasunthinkable. Yet if he had . .. 

Soames got transportation to the Rocky Mountain installation. 

He was shocked when he saw Gail. 

CHAPTER 8

She smiled faintly in the darkness after they'd paused on the way to thecottage, and after Soames had released her. 

"When this is all over, we'll have our life together, you know that, don't you?"

"I'm glad, " she said quietly, "that you feel the way you do. I'mthinner. I'm not very pretty just now. But it's because I'm worried, Brad. "

He muttered angrily. He felt that infuriated rage which was appropriatebecause something worried Gail. 

"I told the children you were coming, " Gail added. "I think they'll beglad to see you. I've an idea Fran especially liked you, Brad. "

"No word of him?"

"N-no, " said Gail in an odd tone. 

"Did he run away?" demanded Soames. They were walking through asoft-warm dusk toward the cottage where Gail stayed with the children. 

Gail said in a low tone:

"Careful! The idea of telepathy is alarming. Everything's overheard, Brad. The children are watched every second. I even think there aremicrophones. .. . "

Soames scowled. 

"It's security, " said Gail. "It would be taking too big a gamble to riskthat the children can only receive sensory impressions and only throughthose little devices in their belts. Nobody's been able to make thebelt-devices do more than that, but they can't be sure. .. . "

"They took the belts away!" insisted Soames. 

"Yes. But it doesn't seem enough. You destroyed their signalling device. But you don't feel safe. They've taken the devices, but they still don'tfeel sure that the children can't do more. 

"And, I thought it was wise to tell Captain Moggs about us. To explainwhy you might want to come back here. They know I'm rather protective ofthe children. An explanation for you to come back seemed wise. Thechildren aren't popular since they've been thought able to read minds. So I wanted you to be able to come back without anybody suspecting youof friendly feelings for them. "

"I'd have come back on account of you, " growled Soames. "So it mustn'tappear that anybody wants to be decent to them, eh?" Then he saidabruptly, "About Fran. .. . "

"He ran away, " said Gail with a hint of defiance. "I'll tell you morelater, maybe. "

They reached the cottage, and Soames reminded himself that anything hesaid would very probably be overheard and recorded on tape. They wentinside. The boy Hod, and the younger girl Mal lay on their stomachs onthe floor, doggedly working at what would be lessons. Zani sat in achair with a book before her and her hand seemingly shielding her eyes. Her expression was abstracted. 

As they entered, Hod made a clicking sound in his throat. Zani put onehand quickly in her pocket and opened her eyes. They had been closed. The book was a prop to hide something. 

 * * * * *

Soames had a flash of insight. He'd worn a belt with a built-inquasi-telepathic device just once and for the briefest of times. Whilehe wore it, too, he'd been fiercely intent upon the use of it to recoveranother such device that had been looted in the broadcast studio duringthe most disastrous of all public-relations enterprises. He'd had notime for experiment; no time to accustom himself to the singular feelingof seeming to inhabit more than one body at a time. He'd had noopportunity to explore the possibilities of the device. But he'd workedout some angles since. 

And because of it, he knew intuitively what Zani had been doing when hearrived. With closed eyes, hidden by her hand, she'd been receivingsomething that came from somewhere else. The two other children had keptsilent. Hod clicked his tongue as a warning of Gail's and Soames'approach. And Zani put her hand in her pocket quickly and opened hereyes. She'd put something away. And Soames knew with certainty thatshe'd been receiving a message from Fran, in the teeth of mercilesswatching and probably microphonic eavesdropping on every word. 

But the children's belt with the sensory-transmitters and receivers hadbeen taken from them. 

 * * * * *

Little Mal said politely:

"Fran. " A pause. "Where is?"

"I'd like to know, " Soames told her. 

"That's almost the only thing they're ever questioned about, nowadays, "said Gail. "As a security measure only Captain Moggs and enlistedpersonnel without classified information, and the police who're huntingfor Fran, are allowed to talk to them. "

"Fran's been gone--how long? A week? Over?" Soames scowled. "How can hehide? He knows little English! He doesn't even know how to act so hewon't be spotted if he walks down a street!"

Gail said with an odd intonation:

"I'm afraid he's in the wilds somewhere. He won't know how to get food. He'll be in danger from wild animals. I'm terribly afraid for him!"

Soames looked at her sharply. 

"How'd he get away?"

"He roamed around, like boys do, " said Gail. "He made friends, more orless, with the children of a staff sergeant's family. It was thoughtthere could be no harm in that. And one morning he left here apparentlyto go and play with them, and they didn't see him, and he hasn't beenseen since. "

Hod was on his stomach again, doggedly working over a book, murmuringEnglish words as he turned the pages from one picture to another. Maland Zani looked from the face of Soames to that of Gail, and back again. 

"They understand more than they can speak, " said Gail. 

Soames searched the walls of the room. Gail had said microphones wereprobable. He looked intently at Zani. He duplicated her position whenhe'd entered and her actions, the quick movement of her hand to herpocket and the opening of her eyes. She tensed, staring at him. He shookhis head warningly and put his finger to his lips. 

She caught her breath and looked at him strangely. He settled down tovisit. Gail, with the air of someone doing something that did notmatter, had the children display their English. Their accent was good. Their vocabularies were small. Soames guessed that Gail drilled themunceasingly in pronunciation so they wouldn't acquire so many words thatthey could be expected to answer involved questions. It was a way topostpone pressure upon them. 

But it was not a good idea for Soames to have too parental or toosolicitous an attitude. He said with inner irony:

"I'm disappointed in Fran. He shouldn't have run away. He made somesketches for me, of things boys his age make, at home. I wanted to getmore such pictures from him. Hmmm. .. . Did he leave any sketches aroundwhen he disappeared?"

Gail shook her head. 

"No. Every scrap of paper the children use is gathered up every night, for study. They don't like it. It disturbs them. Actually, I believelanguage experts are trying to find out something about their language, but they feel like it's enmity. They're jumpy. "

"And with reason, " said Soames. He stirred. "I'm disappointed. I'll gotalk to the people who're hunting Fran. Walk back with me to the store, Gail?"

Gail rose. Zani stared at Soames. She was pale. He nodded to her again. 

Gail and Soames went out into the now fully fallen night. Soames saidgruffly:

"We'd better walk closer together. 

"When we're married, " he said abruptly, "I doubt we'll hide many thingsfrom each other. We'd better start being frank right now. The kids'belts may have been taken away, but they've got sensory-transmissiongadgets just the same. Zani was using one when we went in the cottage. "

Gail's footsteps faltered. "Wh-what are you going to do?"

"Give some good advice, " said Soames. "Tell the kids you know about it. Point out that the Security people have three of the four belts, andthey can wear them and pick up communications. Sooner or later they willand the kids will be caught. If Fran talks aloud they can pick up andidentify his voice. If Zani writes, and looks at what she's written sohe can read it through her eyes, her hand or her dress in what she seescould identify her. I'm telling you to remind Zani that communication bythose sensory transmitters can be overheard. Sooner or later it will be. She must work out ways to avoid being identified. If they think morepeople of her race have landed, that's all right. But it may be bad ifshe's caught communicating with Fran. "

 * * * * *

Gail said nothing for a long time. 

"That's--that's all?"

"Just about. I'm Fran's antagonist in one matter only. I'll do anythingI can to keep him from calling all his race to come here. I hate it, butI'll do it. Outside of that, I feel that he's here through my fault. Ido not want him to be psychologically vivisected by people who wanteverything he knows, and won't believe there are limits to it. So longas he's at large, there probably won't be frenzied questioning of theothers. "

"The--things in the belt are very simple, " said Gail unsteadily, "andthe children were scared and jumpy when they were taken away. So Frantold me, and he'd picked up some scraps of metal. Copper, it was. And Iwatched for him. "

Soames said nothing. 

"He took a straw, " said Gail, "and used it as a sort of blowpipe. Hecould direct the flame of a candle I made for him. It would beheat-treatment?"

Soames nodded, in the darkness. 

"It would. A pattern of heat-treatment might give a metal all sorts ofproperties we haven't guessed at. " He added sardonically, "And it couldbe so simple that a boy could remember and do it!"

"He made six communicators, " said Gail. "I insisted on six. And then Ichose two at random for safety's sake, I suppose. And he and the otherchildren hid theirs. I tried these two. They work. One is for you. Ofcourse. "

She fumbled something into his hand. It was tiny; hardly larger than amatch. 

"You push in the end. It works as long as you push it. "

Soames pressed on one end where there was something that felt like thehead of a pin. It probably was. It gave a little, and instantly he sawwhat Gail saw and felt what she felt, his hand clasping hers. Hereleased the tiny object and again was only himself. 

"Turn yours off, " he said harshly. "Remind the kids that this sort ofthing can be intercepted. "

"I'll tell them, " said Gail. 

"They're much worse off than they were, " he told her. "A little whileago all the world wanted to learn from the kids. Now it's afraid they'lllearn from it, about the people in it. I think everybody'd be quitewilling to forego all possible benefits from their coming, if onlysomething would happen to them. "

"But they can't pry into secrets!" protested Gail. "You know they can'tread minds! They can't!"

"But they have the reputation and have to suffer for it, " said Soames. 

They were then very close to the pseudo general store. Gail put her handlightly on Soames' arm. "Brad, please be careful. "

 * * * * *

He went into the store. He went through to the stock-room behind, pressed a button, and an elevator door opened in a rather surprisingmanner. He stepped inside and the elevator lowered him three hundredfeet into the earth. 

On the way out from the East he'd sunk into gloomy meditation about thesituation of the children and for that matter of the world, since theirarrival. Fran had an urgent mission he felt he must perform at any risk. He couldn't do it on the missile base. 

Fran felt the hatred surrounding all of them from the conclusion of thebroadcast. He knew that nobody, anywhere, would help him do something hehad to do. So he fled in order to try somehow to send the signal Soameshad prevented from beside the wrecked spaceship. 

But why must Fran send it? Why hadn't an automatic device been used?Something which could be so ruggedly built that it could not possiblysmash. .. . 

And suddenly there was an explanation. 

Up to this moment Soames had doggedly accepted the idea that thechildren came out of a past so remote that numbers of years simply hadno meaning. The evidence was overwhelming even though the law of theconservation of mass and energy denied the possibility of time-travel. Now, abruptly, Soames saw the infinitely simple answer. Time-travel waspossible, provided certain conditions were met. Those conditions wouldat first instance inevitably produce a monstrous burst of static and animplosion to cause an earth-shock and a concussion wave audible ateighty miles distance. Once communication between time-frames had beenestablished, however . .. 

The flight of Fran instantly became something so much more alarming thanmere danger to Fran, that there was only one thing Soames could possiblydo. He'd said he was not Fran's enemy. But he must do anything to keepFran from carrying out the mission he'd been sent to accomplish. 

So when Soames got out of the elevator from the village store, he wentdirectly to a security officer. 

"I'm worried about the boy Fran, who ran away, " he observed. "Can youtell me what happened?"

"I'd like somebody to tell me!" said the security officer morbidly. "Ifhe ran, he had wings on his shoes. And now he's out he's got me scared!You know those telepathic gadgets in the belts the children wore? Wetook 'em away. We opened one of 'em up, but we left the others inworking order. We tried them. When two men wear them, with both turnedon, they sort of half-way read each other's minds. Each man knows whatthe other is doing and seeing. But one man by himself can't do a thing. Two men can do a lot. It's been suggested that if they knew the trick ofit, three men could do all the telepathy they wanted, read minds and allthat. We haven't found out the trick, though. "

 * * * * *

Soames nodded, marvelling at the ability of the human race to findreasons to believe anything it wanted to, whether for sweet vanity'ssake or for the sake of scaring itself to death. 

"When we first got the belts from the kids, " pursued the securityofficer, "we figured there might be some other folks of the kids' raceon Earth, figuring on ways to get 'em loose. We had a belt worn nightand day. Nothing. So we stopped monitoring. Then this Fran got away andwe started monitoring all over again, trying to pick up any working ofbelts like these that we didn't know about. And we started picking upstuff right away!"

 * * * * *

Soames stared. Zani'd been using one such instrument. 

"A man's got one of those belts on, " said the security man, frowning, "and it's like he didn't. Nothing happens at all. But after maybe hours, maybe a day or two, suddenly, with his eyes closed, he sees a page ofoutlandish writing. The kind of writing those kids do. It can't bephotographed, because it's only inside your head that you see it. Youcan't make sense of it. The alphabet isn't ours. The words are thelanguage they talk among themselves. I figure there's a ship somewhere, broadcasting a call to the kids. The call's printed. If the kids hadtheir belts on, and turned on, they could read it. But we got theirbelts. So this Fran, he broke away to try to make some kind of way toanswer that call!"

Soames said nothing. But he was unhappily amused, at himself as well asthe security officer. He'd gone to some pains to tell Gail how thechildren might communicate with Fran without being caught at it. Butthey knew. They'd produced this theory of a hovering ship of space, broadcasting to Earth to four children hidden somewhere on it. There wasno ship. There was only Fran, desperate to perform the task he'd beensent here to do, keeping in touch with the other three children by atiny unit he'd made out of scrap copper and a straw and a candle-flame. And it was so natural that the fact wasn't guessed!

"How's he managing to eat?" asked Soames. "He's no money and next to noEnglish, and he doesn't know how to act. .. . "

"He's smart!" said the security officer grimly. "He's hiding by day. Atnight. .. . People don't usually tell the cops about a bottle of milkmissing from their doorsteps. A grocer doesn't report one loaf of breadmissing from the package left in front of his store before daybreak. He'd pick a loaf of bread today, and a bottle of milk tomorrow. Sometimes he'd skip. But we figured it out. We got every town in fivehundred miles to check up. Bread-truck drivers asked grocery stores. Anybread missing? Milk-men asked their customers. Has anybody been pinchingyour milk? We found where he was, in Bluevale, close to the Navajo Dam, you know. We set cops to watch. Almost got him yesterday morning. Hewas after a loaf of bread. A cop fired five shots at him, but he gotaway. Dropped the loaf of bread, too. "

Soames wanted to be sick. Fran was possibly fourteen years old anddesperate because his whole civilization depended on him to save themfrom the destruction falling out of the sky. He was a fugitive on astrange world. 

 * * * * *

Then Soames' mouth went dry as he realized. Fran had been shot at inBluevale, which was near the Navajo Dam. The Navajo Dam generated almostas much electric power as Niagara. 

"I had a hunch, " said the security officer with some grimness, "the kidgot past three electric fences, and we don't know how. He must knowplenty about electricity. So I began to wonder if he might be hoping toanswer that broadcast signal with a signal of his own. He was inBluevale. We checked up. A roofer lost some sheet copper a couple ofdays ago. Somebody broke in a storehouse and got away with forty orfifty feet of heavy-gauge copper wire. A man'd have stolen the wholeroll. It would be only a kid that'd break off as much as he could carry. See?

"He's getting set to make something, and we know he's near Bluevale. He'll need tools. I've got Bluevale crammed with cops andplainclothesmen. That whole town is one big trap for that kid right now. And the cops will shoot! Because we don't know what that kid will make. If those kids had something that'll read your mind, made by grownups, maybe he'll make something that'll burn it out! He looks human, but hecame out of space from Godknowswhere. Maybe he'll make deathrays!"

Soames swallowed. He knew what Fran would want to make. A mere localprojector of deathrays would be trivial beside the consequences of whatFran was desperately resolved to do for his own people. 

He heard himself say something relatively soothing. 

"Maybe, " he observed, "he's not that dangerous. You're worried about howhe passed those electrified fences. He used stilts. He knew about them. They interested him. So he must have made a pair some seven or eightfeet high, and learned to walk on them. And then he simply went to atree near the fence, climbed up it and mounted the stilts, and thenwalked to the fence and stepped over it. At his age he wouldn't realizethe danger. He'd do it and worm his way past watchers. .. . He could havedone that!"

The security officer swore. 

"Yes! Dammit, yes! We should've watched him closer. "

"I want to get back East, " said Soames. 

"When do you want to head East?" asked the officer. 

"Now, " said Soames. "We've got a project started that's more or lesslinked to the kids' gadgets, even though we don't understand them. Thesooner I can get back, the better. "

The security officer used the telephone. He found there was a plane dueto take off shortly. Soames could get passage on that plane, not to theEast, but to a military airfield outside Denver where a cab could be hadto take him to the commercial airport to make connections East. 

Before starting on this trip he'd suspected that he might need to takepart in the search for Fran. He'd cleaned out his bank account and hadthe cash in his pocket. In half an hour he was on board the outboundplane. 

In two hours Soames was in Denver. In three he was lost beyond alldiscovery. He'd taken an inter-urban bus instead of a plane out ofDenver, and gotten off at a tiny town whose name he did not even notice. During the night, with closed eyes and in a silent hotel room in thelittle town, he pressed one end of the miniature device that Fran hadmade and Gail had given him. 

He felt a queer sensation. He inhabited two bodies at once. It waseerie. The other body did nothing. It only breathed and waited. Someoneat the hidden base from which he had come wore one of the children'sbelts and patiently waited to eavesdrop on any communication that mightbe made by similar devices. 

 * * * * *

Soames waited for morning. Very early, again with closed eyes and withhis body made comfortable so that he felt no distinct sensation from it, he pressed the end of the miniature instrument. He saw writing of thekind the children used for memoranda about their English lessons. Hereleased the turn-on switch, which was probably the head of a pin. Heturned on a light. He opened a notebook. Its first page showed twosketches. One was of the runner of a boy-made air-sled. Fran hadsketched it for Soames on the plane headed for New York and thedisastrous broadcast. The other was a sketch of a boy on stilts. Soameshad drawn that for Fran. Nobody but Soames would have looked at suchdrawings for Fran to see through his eyes. They were at once a call andan identification of Soames as a person using a device like a tinycopper firecracker, with the head of a pin where a fuse would belong. 

He turned on the device again while looking at the sketches. He feltthat he shared the physical sensations of two other bodies, no, three. He was momentarily convinced of a third. All three now kept their eyestightly closed. All three saw only through his eyes, saw rough sketcheswhich would have meaning only to two. Soames felt that he heard asmothered noise which only he would have known was a suppressed giggle. 

Then he felt one of the other bodies shaking hands with itself. Thatwould be Fran, acknowledging the message of the drawings that onlySoames would know about. He shook hands with himself for Soames toexperience. Then he patted his knee as one would pat a dog, andscratched his knee as one scratches a dog, as he did with Rex onAntarctica. He had identified himself. There was the stirring of anotherof the bodies with which Soames was linked. That would be the securityofficer, wearing a belt which brought him these sensations. He couldhave no idea, however, who was communicating with whom, and pattings andscratchings would have no meaning at all. He could only know that theweird experience stopped when someone shook hands with himself and thatwas all. 

But Soames rose and dressed with many forebodings. Fran would not meethim. Soames had given warning of traps and close hunting. But Fran wouldnot meet him. It looked bad. 

He bought a second-hand motorcycle at ten o'clock in the morning. Heknew motorcycles. By three in the afternoon he threaded through thetraffic of Bluevale. To him, on the watch for such matters, there seemedan unusual preponderance of men on the streets of that small town. Franwouldn't notice it. Soames did. But he wasn't noticed. He'd bought aleather jacket and a cap. He rode a battered motorbike. He didn't evenfaintly resemble Fran. 

He rode casually through Bluevale and along the wide, smooth highway tothe much smaller village of Navajo Dam--at the edge of the big lake thedam had backed up behind it--and then at a leisurely pace along the samehighway as it went over the crest of that massive structure. The lake tohis right rose within feet of the highway. To the left there was achasm, with a winding truck-road going down to the generator buildingsat the dam's foot. 

Soames jittered. He went two miles on and into forest, dragging themotorcycle out of sight from the road. He made himself as comfortable aspossible, to avoid transmitting any information about his whereabouts. He stuffed his ears to mute the sounds of open country. From fouro'clock to eight, at irregular intervals, he turned on thesensory-linkage device for a second or two at a time. He came torecognize the physical sensations of the man who, back in the hiddenmissile base, wore a child's belt and monitored for sensorycommunications. Between seven and eight the identity of that manchanged. Someone else took the place of the first. 

At ten o'clock there was the briefest possible sensation of a thirdbody. Soames knew it was Fran. He shook hands with himself, quickly. Fran would recognize it as a greeting. Soames had contrived a way tooffer argument, but he only felt a boy's small, smooth hands shakingeach other in reply, and Fran was gone out of communication. 

He did not come back. 

 * * * * *

At midnight Soames got his motorcycle out of the woods and onto thehighway. He rode slowly back toward Bluevale. He stopped at a hot-dogstand outside the town and waited there for another signal. 

At one, nothing had happened. Soames was close enough to the town tohave heard any tumult, certainly any shots. 

At two and three--nothing. 

At four o'clock, without warning, there was a flash of intolerably vividblue-green light. It came from the chasm below the Navajo Dam. Thelights across the dam's curving crest went out. The street-lights ofBluevale and the little village of Navajo Dam went out. The world wentdark, while a mountainous blue-green flame shed intolerably bright lighttoward the stars. 

It went out, too. 

Soames, cold with fear, pressed the end of the sensory device. He feltpain, lancing, excruciating pain. He heard Fran's voice gaspinghopelessly:

"_Try! Try! Try!_"

He felt Fran's body turn in pain, and he saw that Fran's eyes looked upat stars, and the stars were cut off at one side by the curving bulk ofthe monstrous concrete dam. 

Soames shook hands with himself. He let go the button. He started themotorcycle. He raced toward the dam. He did not again press on thesensory device until he'd gone frantically through the village andhair-raisingly down the truck-road to the generator buildings. There hecut off the motor, and he heard men's voices, profane and agitated andalarmed. He saw the small flickerings of flashlights. 

He found Fran, crumpled on the ground and trying desperately not to makesounds of pain. Soames knew where the hurt was. He'd experienced it asFran did. He'd guessed its cause and seriousness. He knew he had to movequickly. 

He put Fran swiftly on the saddle behind his own on the motorcycle. Hegave the motorcycle all the gas it would take and went racketing up thetruck-road from the chasm below the dam. 

He made it. The motorcycle, its lights turned off, was across the damand streaking for the first curve beyond before the flickerings of carheadlights began to show on the road from Bluevale. 

Fran held on fiercely. But presently Soames felt the quiverings behindhim. He stopped the motorcycle where the road was empty. Fran ground histeeth and stared at him defiantly in the reflected light of the nowfunctioning single headlight. 

"If I were you, " said Soames, not expecting to be understood, butspeaking as one man to another, "If I were you I wouldn't be ashamed ofcrying. I feel pretty much like it myself, from relief that yoursignalling device blew out. "

CHAPTER 9

The color of the blue-green flame which had flared so fiercely outsidethe generator-buildings was no mystery at all. It was the color ofvaporized copper, the same coloring found in burning driftwood in whichcopper nails have rusted. Its cause was no mystery, either. There'd beena gigantic short-circuit where the main power-leads left thedynamo-rooms to connect with cross-country power lines. 

Soames and Fran knew directly, and some few security officers guessed, that Fran had caused the short. There was melted-down, cryptic metalbelow the place where the short appeared. Fran had undoubtedly placedit. How he escaped electrocution the security officers did not try tofigure out. But they knew he'd tried to do something with apparatus thatburned itself out without operating, and that he'd tumbled down aten-foot drop while fleeing from the searing green arc, and even thathe'd appealed for help with the words, "Try! Try! Try!" And they knewthat somebody had helped him get away from the scene of his exploit andinjury. But they didn't know how, nor that it was Soames. 

Soames was assumed to be on his way East to confer with a group ofscientists who now had added certain skilled instrument-makers to theirnumber and triumphantly worked themselves to twitching exhaustion. 

Fran's part in the affair was naturally a secret. Lights and power infive Colorado counties went off and stayed off. Local newspapers printedindignant editorials. 

Theirs was a strictly local view. In high official quarters the feelingwas quite different. The reaction there was more like paralyzed horror. Fran was known to be behind the breakdown of the plant. He'd caused itby trying to tap its lines for a monstrous amount of power. He'd beentrying to signal to so great a distance that tens of thousands ofkilowatts were required. He'd failed, but the high brass knew withabsolute certainty that he'd tried to signal to his own race. And to thehigh brass this meant that he'd tried to summon a space-fleet withinvincible weapons to the conquest of Earth. 

So there were two directives from the highest possible policy-makinglevels. First, Fran must be caught at any cost in effort, time, money, and man-power. Second, the rest of the world must not know that one ofthe four spaceship's crew members was at large. 

So the hunt for Fran intensified to a merciless degree. 

Soames headed north. He wore a leather jacket, and he rode a battered, second-hand motorcycle, and on the saddle behind him an obvious kidbrother rode, leather-jacketed as Soames was, capped as he was, scowlingas Soames did, and in all ways imitating his elder. Which was sofamiliar a sight that nobody noticed Fran at all. He was visibly a toughyounger brother of the kind of young man who goes in for batteredmotorcycles because he can't afford anything better. Naturally no onesuspected him of being a telepathic monster, a creature of space, or theobject of a desperate search. 

 * * * * *

It was helpful that Soames was not missed at first and was not searchedfor. It was a full day after the Navajo Dam breakdown before anybodythought to have him check on the melted-down apparatus. It was two daysbefore anybody was concerned about him, and three before flights out ofDenver had been checked futilely for his name. 

But on the fourth day after a green flame reached up toward the sky, Soames and a silent, scowling, supposed younger brother occupied afishing-shack on the shores of Calumet Lake. They were seven hundredmiles from Denver, and the way they'd come was much longer than that. They were far removed from the tumult of the world. They'd made bivouacsin the open on the journey, and this would be the first time they'dsettled anywhere long enough to take stock. 

"Now, " said Soames, as sunset-colorings filled the sky beyond the lake'sfarther edge, "now we figure out what we're going to do. We ought to beable to do something, though I don't yet know what. And first we act theparts we're playing. We came here to catch some fish. You shouldn't beable to wait. So we go out and catch fish for our dinner. "

He led the way to a tiny wharf where a small boat lay tied. He carriedfishing-rods and bait. 

He untied the boat and rowed out to the middle of the lake. He surveyedhis surroundings and dropped anchor. He baited a hook, with Franwatching intently. 

Soames handed him the rod. Fran waited. He imitated Soames' actions whenSoames began to fish. He watched his line as closely as the deepeningdusk permitted. 

"Hmmm, " said Soames. "Your ankle's doing all right. Lucky it was awrench instead of a break or a sprain. Four days of riding and nowalking have fixed it pretty well. It's fairly certain nobody knowswhere you are, too. But where do we go from here?"

Fran listened. 

"You came out of time, " said Soames vexedly. "But time-travel can't bedone. The natural law of the conservation of matter and energy requiresthat the total of substance and force in the cosmos, taken together, bethe same at each instant that it was in the instant before and the oneafter. It's self-evident. That rules out travelling in time. "

 * * * * *

He jerked at his fishing-rod. He did not hook his fish. 

"I don't think you understand me, " he observed. 

"No, " said Fran matter of factly. 

"It doesn't matter, " Soames told him. "I'm saying that you can't put agallon of water in a full keg of wine. And you can't, unless you drawoff wine as fast as you add water. Unless you exchange. So you can'tshift an object from time-frame A to time-frame B without shifting acorresponding amount of matter and energy from time-frame B totime-frame A. Unless you keep the amount of matter and energy unchangedin each. Unless you exchange. So you came to here and now from there andthen--your home time-frame, let's say--by a process of swapping. Bytransposition. By replacement. Transposition's the best word. The effectwas time-travel but the process wasn't, like a telephone has the effectof talking at a distance but the method is distinctly something else. "

Fran jerked his fishing-rod. A nine-inch lake-trout flapped in theboat's bottom. 

"I'm supposed to be teaching you how to fish!" said Soames. 

He watched as Fran rather gingerly extracted the hook and rebaited ashe'd seen Soames do. 

Soames continued, "Your ship was transposed from your time into mine. Simultaneously, gram molecular weight for gram molecular weight, something had to be transposed into yours. Since you were to come intomy time twenty thousand feet high and there was nothing else handy to betransposed into your time--why--air had to leave here and turn up there. To make up the mass and energy of your ship and you and the otherchildren. "

As if to indicate that he listened, Fran said:

"Zani, Mal and Hod. "

"Right!" Soames jerked his rod and brought up a fingerling which hesilently unhooked and threw back overboard. "Considering the thinness ofthe air where you came out, maybe half a cubic mile of it had totranspose into your time to let your ship come into this. "

He dropped the line overboard again. 

"Which means that there was an implosion of anywhere from a quarter tohalf a cubic mile of vacuum. It made an earth-shock and a concussionwave, and it battered your ship until it went out of control. It wouldseem to make sense that the tumult and the shouting would appear here, where plain force was operating without much guidance, but not in yourtime where the machinery and the controls were operating. Your peoplehad to handle more energy there--and consequently acted upon more energyhere--than my people could produce with all the engines now on Earthhooked together. "

He fished, frowning thoughtfully. 

"I suspect, " said Soames, after a long interval, "that with machineryand controls at this end as well as the other, instead of at one endonly, that time-transposition would be a fairly tranquil process. Itwould be under accurate control. It'd probably need infinitely lesspower. A ship would vanish from your time and simultaneously amass-and-energy equivalent would take its place. And a ship would appearin this time and simultaneously a mass-and-energy equivalent wouldvanish to appear in your time. But I think it must have been because thewhole business was done from one end that the business was sospectacular, with lightning, earthquake, and all the rest. Withequipment at both ends, there should be no static, no earth-shock, noconcussion, nothing but a very peaceful transfer. "

Soames' expression became sardonic. 

"Which I am prepared to prevent at any cost, " he added. "Yet I've someresponsibility to you, Fran. I think I'm getting an idea of a kind ofbluff that we might pull off, if we could get the other kids safe away. It would be a bluff, and the biggest in history. But we might just getaway with it. .. . "

Fran caught a three-quarter-pound lake-trout. Soames caught one weighinghalf a pound. They caught two smaller ones before full darkness fell. Then Soames put up his fishing-rod and picked up the oars. He began torow toward the shore. 

"I'll show you how to clean and cook the fish, " he observed. "I thinkyou'll like the flavor. "

He pulled hard on one oar, and swung the boat around, and caught one ofthe small piles of the wharf. Fran climbed up and Soames handed him thefish. 

He followed Fran shoreward toward the rickety little week-end cottagehe'd rented. There he showed Fran how fish with scales are cleaned, andthen how they can be cooked over an open fire. 

 * * * * *

After Fran had gone to bed, it occurred to Soames that he hadn't heardthe news of the world for four days. On the run, as he and Fran hadbeen, they hadn't seen a newspaper or heard a news broadcast. Now Soamesturned on the small radio that went with the fishing cottage, to giveadvance information on the weather. 

News came on immediately. It was all bad. 

The United States had shown no signs of having profited by thetelepathic powers of Fran and his companions. No spies were seized. Asubmarine installation that could lob missiles into New York from theedge of the hundred-fathom line was not depth-bombed. There were otherfailures to act on information obtained through the children. No nationcould imagine another allowing spies to operate if it could detect them. 

So a raging guess began to spread among the anti-American peoples of theworld. The guess was that the broadcast was a lie. Nobody doubted thelanding of a spaceship, of course. The static and the earth-shock wereevidence, and the Russians had photographs. But the children were toosuspiciously like human children. They could be child actors, coached toimpersonate aliens who could not be produced. And there was an easyanswer to the question of why the true aliens weren't revealed. Theycould be dead. Earth's atmosphere might be fatal to them. They couldhave died of some infection against which they had no defense. 

The politicians and the rulers of the world suspected the United Statesof bad faith and trickery. They were not certain. But there were ways ofmaking sure. 

When Soames tuned in to the news at Calumet Lake, the United States hadbeen forced to use a veto in the United Nations for the first time. Aresolution passed, calling on the United States to turn over "the crewof an extraterrestrial space vessel" to a committee to be appointed bythe UN assembly. The United States vetoed it. Ironically, with Fran runaway and not found again, the United States could not have complied withthe resolution in any case. 

But the veto lent plausibility to suspicions. There was intensifieddistrust. The Nato countries asked to share in technical informationobtained from outer space. There wasn't any. They asked to study thedevices salvaged by the children. This could have been done, but recentpolitical developments inside Nato made it certain that anything oneparticular nation learned would immediately be known to Russia. This wasto be avoided if possible. 

 * * * * *

The mess went farther. South America was so deeply suspicious of thecolossus of the north that various Latin nations sought engagements byEuropean countries to defend them against aggression by the UnitedStates. There had been two great concentrations of military power onEarth. Russia headed one group of nations, and the United States theother. Now it looked like there would soon be three. Russia would headone. A second would be a group detached from the United States. Thethird would be the United States standing alone. 

It was an absolutely perfect set-up for flaming total war to be begunat any instant. 

The news Soames picked up on a cheap radio on a Calumet Lake fishingshack was enough to make any man heartsick. 

When Fran waked in the morning, an unsmiling Soames greeted him. 

"We're going to ride again, Fran. I'm going to make a long-distancecall. "

 * * * * *

They rode two hundred miles before noon, and Soames got silver from afilling-station where he bought gas. At one of the out-of-doorphone-booths lately a part of the American scene, he put through a callto New York. He got the tall physicist who'd come West to the hiddenmissile base. 

"This is Soames, " he said very distinctly. "I've got a tip for you. Pretend that you want to make something like the gadget that stops windsand warms places. You know the thing. "

The tall physicist's voice babbled. 

"I know!" said Soames bitterly, "I'm supposed to be dead or a traitor orsomething. But listen to me! You're a castaway and savages snipe at you. You want to make something like the thing that stops wind, but you wantit to stop arrows instead. It's quite a job. Perhaps the only usefulthing you've got on this savage world is a way to make magnetic fieldswith minus self-induction. That's got to stop the arrows. You can assumethe arrowheads are metal. Do you follow me?"

A pause. Then a tinny voice, singularly calm and astonished at the sametime:

"_Why--yes! A very interesting approach! In fact, we've got some verysurprising results lately. One of them will fit in beautifully! Yes!Beautifully!_"

"If you make it designed for large enough areas, " said Soames, "you'llknow where to use it, and how. And--" Soames' voice was sardonic indeed, "If you do get it, this is one thing that shouldn't be kept secret! Getit broadcast! Get it everywhere! Give it to the Russians and the Greeksand the Chinese and the French and everybody else! Understand? The morewho know about it the better. "

The tinny voice said:

"_We just developed a thing to refine metals_ in situ. .. . _An inductionfurnace that sets up the heating field at almost any distance from theelements that handle the power. It will fit in perfectly! Of course!Certainly! This is magnificent, Soames!_"

"If you can get it working and in production before hell breaks loose, "said Soames, "you may deserve well of the republic. "

"_Where are you, Soames? We need you on several matters--_"

Soames hung up. His call, of course, could be traced. He'd travelled twohundred miles so that tracing it would do no good. He returned to whereFran dangled his legs from the back saddle of the motorbike, and theyheaded back to Calumet Lake for a few more days of peace and quiet. 

CHAPTER 10

Soames made his long-distance call on a Monday, when war seemed likelyto come perhaps within hours. All day Monday the tension continued. Traffic jams became the normal thing outside the larger cities, whichwould be logical targets for long-range missiles. Every means of travelaway from the great population centers was loaded far beyond capacity. 

On Tuesday afternoon national guard troops had been called out in tenstates to keep traffic moving. 

At Calumet Lake, however, there was no notable change. Soames and Franstill went fishing. In the boat Fran sometimes shut his eyes and pressedthe end of one of the tiny sensory-perception communicators he had made. He turned it on for no longer than a second at a time. If he madecontact with one of the other children he was prepared to speakswiftly--so they could hear his voice as he did--to assure them that hewas safe and to ask for news of Zani and Mal and Hod, and Gail. He coulddo it very quickly indeed. Soames had insisted on only instants ofcommunicator-use. 

"Maybe those gadgets can be directionally spotted, " he said. "Securitywants you, Fran. If there's a way to get a directional fix on you, they'll find it! So, make it short!"

On Thursday morning all broadcasts broke off to report that the DEW lineof radars across Canada had reported objects in the air moving acrossthe North Pole toward the United States. America clenched its fists andwaited for missiles to strike or be blasted by counter-missiles, as fateor chance might determine. Twenty minutes later a correction came. Theradar-detected objects had not been missiles, but aircraft flying information. They'd changed course and returned to their bases. They wereprobably foreign fighter-planes patrolling far beyond their usual range. 

Soames had held his breath with the rest of the country. He was justbeginning to breathe freely again when Fran came running from theweek-end-shack. His eyes shone. 

"I got--" he swallowed--"Zani. I said"--he swallowed again, "we willcome. " He added: "Our language. "

Soames looked at him sharply. 

"Maybe you do read minds. Was anybody listening in? Anybody else besideZani?"

"Two men, " said Fran. "Two. They talked. Fast. English. "

"One man would be a monitor, " said Soames grimly. "Two means adirectional fix. Let's go!"

By that night they were hundreds of miles from Calumet Lake. 

The highways were crowded with the people who'd evacuated the cities. The high population of remote places was a protection for Soames andFran. He worried, though, about Gail, her situation, and that of thethree other children, was far from enviable. In the present increasingconfusion and tension they were hardly likely to have any improvement intheir state. 

"I think, " Soames told Fran reflectively, "that at night, and with thekind of disorganization that seems to be increasing, you can get awaywith talking to the kids again. Nobody'll try a parachute drop in thesemountains in the darkness. " They were then a hundred miles south ofDenver. "They couldn't get organized before daybreak, and I doubt thatthey could block the highways. See if you can make contact, eh? And findout how they're getting along?"

Fran nodded. He moved so that the heat of their fire would not fall onhim, to tell that he camped out-of-doors. He found a place to lie downin comfort, so that there would be no distracting sensation. He closedhis eyes. Soames saw him press the end of his tiny communicator andrelease it quickly. After an instant's pause he pressed it again. Heheld the communicator on for several seconds, half a minute. He releasedit and sat up. 

"You try, " he said in a puzzled fashion. "You try!"

Soames closed his eyes. He pressed the little pin-head button at the endof the instrument which was hardly larger than a match-stick. He feltthe sensations of another body. That other body opened its eyes. Soamessaw who it was, Gail's face was reflected in a mirror. She was pale. Herexpression was drawn and harried. But she smiled at her reflection, because she knew Soames would see what she saw. 

He spoke, so she'd hear his voice as he did. 

"Gail!"

He felt a hand--which was her hand--spill something on a levelledsurface before her. It smoothed the spilled stuff. It was face-powder, spread on a dressing-table top. A finger wrote. She looked down at whatwas written there. 

"_Help Fran_, " he read. "_You Must!_"

 * * * * *

He felt her hand swiftly smoothing the message away. Rage swept overhim. Instantly he knew what had happened. Fran's escape from CalumetLake had proved that he knew that his communications were interceptedand directionally analyzed. Therefore the other children were no longera means by which he might be trapped. So their communicators had beentaken away from them for the second time, and now they were watched withan unceasing closeness. Every glance, every word, every gesture wasnoted. 

"This has to be quick, " said Soames coldly, for her to hear. "I wouldhelp him, but he'd want to get in touch with his people. "

Gail opened her eyes again. Her image in the mirror nodded. 

"And if he did, " said Soames as coldly as before, "they'd come here andconquer us. And I'd rather that we killed each other off than that themost kindly-disposed of conquerors enslaved us. "

He felt her hand again smoothing the spilled face-powder. She wrote init. He knew what she had written before she dropped her eyes to it. Hecouldn't believe it. She'd written three words, no, two words and anumeral. Soames felt an almost physical shock. He was incredulous. Ifthis was true . .. 

Then he felt a hand closed firmly on Gail's shoulder. Captain Moggsspoke, authoritative and stern and reproachful:

"_Gail! How could you! You have one of those horrible telepathic thingstoo! This is a very grave matter, Gail!_"

Then the contact was broken. Captain Moggs had snatched away Gail'scommunicator. 

Raging, Soames took Fran and left that spot which was undoubtedlypin-pointed by now. As they sped away he tried to consider the meaningof the two words and the numeral which was completely unbelievable atfirst thought. 

 * * * * *

Shortly after sunrise he bought a two-day-old newspaper. It was thelatest he could find for sale. He rode a certain distance and stoppedwhere the highway made an especially dramatic turn and there was aturn-out for tourists to park in while they admired the view. He stoppedthere and deliberately read the news affecting war and peace and thechildren and therefore Gail. At the end he folded the newspaperpainstakingly and with careful self-control tore it to bits. Then hesaid angrily:

"Fran, a question it never occurred to me to ask you before. "

He posed the question. Fran could have answered it with two Englishwords and a numeral, and the same words and numeral that Gail had used. But he didn't have the words. Especially, he did not have the number. Fran's way of writing numbers was as complex as the system used inancient Rome, and Soames had no key. It took a long time to grasp thequantity Fran had in mind. Then Soames had to make sure he had it right. 

Then, abruptly, he knew that it was true. He knew why it was true. Itincreased his anger over the situation and the treatment of Gail and thechildren. 

"According to this paper, " he said icily, "my fellow-countrymen havedecided to pay a decent respect to the opinions of mankind, and to sellyou down the river. They suggest an international UN committee toreceive custody of you children. That committee could then set to workon you to find out where you came from, why, and when you are likely tobe searched for. Now, you know and so do I that part of what they foundout they wouldn't accept. Time-travel is impossible. So when youchildren told them where you come from they wouldn't believe it. They'dtry to pry back behind what they'd consider a lie. They'd use differenttechniques of inquiry. They'd use inhibition-releasing drugs. They'd . .. "

 * * * * *

Fran's expression did not change. Yet it was not passive. 

"Which will not happen, " said Soames in sudden fury, "except over mydead body! Gail feels the same way. So let's go! We've got to plan areally king-size monkey-wrench to throw into these works!"

He stepped on the motorbike pedal. He swung on down the winding mountainroad for the lowlands. He went into a relatively small town. He bought apup-tent, pliers, a small camp-stove; a camp-lantern; food; blankets;matches. 

They went back into the foothills and settled down to the strangestscientific conference in history. The scene of the conference was aremote and strictly improvised encampment by the side of abriskly-flowing trout-stream. They fished. They talked. They drewdiagrams at each other. 

Fran's English had improved remarkably, but this was a highly technicaldiscussion. It was two days before Soames had the information he neededfirmly in his mind. He made a working drawing of what had to be built. He realized that the drawing itself was a simplification of a much moresophisticated original device. It was adapted to be made out of locallyavailable materials. It was what Fran had made and tried at Navajo Dam. 

"Which, " said Soames, frowning, "proved not to work. You didn't realizethe local resources. This thing works, obviously, because a terrificallystrong electric field is cut off abruptly and collapses instantly. Theoriginal apparatus--the one I burnt--no doubt had a very fine gimmick tobreak a heavy current flow without making an arc. The trouble at NavajoDam was that it did arc--and how! That was a mess!"

He paused, considering. Since Soames was not looking at him, Franregarded him with infinite respect. 

"The problem, " said Soames, thinking hard, "is a glorified job ofturning off an electric light without making a spark at the switch. That's all. It doesn't matter how long the current flows. The thing isthat it must stop instantly. So we turn the whole business inside out. 

"Instead of making a terrific steady current and cutting it off, I'mgoing to start with it not flowing and use a strobe-light pack. Everyamateur photographer has one. They give a current of eight hundredamperes and twenty-five hundred volts for the forty-thousandth of asecond. The juice doesn't flow long enough to burn anything out. It cutsitself off. There's nothing to maintain an arc. 

"The really tricky part, " he said uncomfortably, "may be the stealing ofa helicopter. But I guess I can manage it. "

 * * * * *

He left Fran fishing and went down to the nearest town again to buyeccentric items of equipment. Copper foil. Strobe-light packs, two ofthem. He could use foil instead of large-area heat-dissipating units, because the current would flow so briefly. He would get a terrificcurrent, of course. Two strobe-light packs in series would give him fourmillion watts of power for part of the wink of an eyelid. 

When he got back to the camp, Soames called to Fran. "We've got to getto work. I don't think we've got much time. I had hopes of acastaway-gadget coming up, but it hasn't. "

He began to assemble the device which would substitute for the larger, heavier, much more massive apparatus he'd destroyed on the Antarcticice-sheet. The work went swiftly. Soames had re-designed the outfit, anda man can always build a thing of his own design more easily thansomething from another man's drawings. 

Before sunset the thing was done. Fran was very respectful. Thisapparatus was less than a quarter the size of the one his own people hadprepared for the same purpose. And it was self-powered, too; it wasindependent of outside power-supply. 

"I'd like to talk to your people about this, " said Soames grimly. "I dothink things can be transposed in space, and this should work that wayas well as in time. But starting at one end has me stymied. "

He abandoned the pup-tent and equipment. 

"Either we won't need them, " he said, "or we won't be able to use them. "

The battered, ancient motorcycle took them into the night. Soames hadstudied road-maps and he and Fran had discussed in detail the route toNavajo Dam--using stilts to cross electrified fences--from the hiddenmissile base. Soames was sure that with Fran's help he could find thepseudo-village where Gail and the children remained. It would call for ahelicopter. But before that there was a highly necessary operation whichwould also go best with a helicopter to help. So when they left thatpup-tent camp they headed toward a very minor, local airfield whereSoames had once landed. It had hangars for half a dozen cheap privateplanes and for two helicopters used mostly for crop-dusting. 

 * * * * *

At the airfield Soames laid the motorcycle beside the edge of the cleararea, and left Fran with it, to wait. He moved quietly through thedarkness toward close-up buildings with no lights anywhere except inone room reserved for a watchman. 

Fran waited, breathing fast. He heard night-insects and nothing else. Itseemed a horribly long time--before he heard the grinding noise of amotor being cranked. It caught immediately. There was a terrific roaringtumult inside a building. The large door of a hangar tilted and wentupward, and a door opened from the watchman's lighted room and he cameshouting outside. 

The roaring of motors changed. The door of the hangar was quite open. Abellowing thing came moving out, whirling huge black vanes against thesky. It boomed more loudly still, and lifted, and then drifted withseeming clumsiness across the level airfield while the night watchmanshouted after it. 

 * * * * *

Fran turned on the motorcycle headlight as he'd been told, and picked upthe apparatus Soames had made to use strobe-light packs in. The 'copterswept toward him, six feet above-ground. It came down and Fran swarmedup into its cabin. Then the motors really thundered and the 'copterclimbed for the sky. 

Soames drove without lights and headed southward. 

A transcontinental highway appeared below. It was plainly marked by theheadlights of more than usually heavy traffic on it. He followed thathighway. 

Fran rode in a sort of stilly rapture. Soames said:

"Not worried, Fran?"

Fran shook his head. Then, boy-like, he turned on the transistor radioto show his nonchalance. A voice spoke. He'd have shifted to music butSoames caught a word or two. 

"Hold it!" he commanded. "Put it so I can hear!"

Fran raised the volume and held the small radio so Soames could hear itabove the motor-noise. 

What he heard, at this moment, was the official United States broadcastannouncing the ending of all real menace of atomic attack. By afortunate freak of fate, somebody in authority realized that it was moreimportant to get the news out than to make a professionalized productionof it. So a tired but confident voice said very simply that Americantechnicians seemed to have solved the problem of defense attack byatomic bombs and guided missiles. There had been, the voice saidsteadily, recent marked improvements in electric induction furnaces. Thebasic principle of an induction furnace was the evolution of heat in thematerial it was desired to melt, instead of merely in a container forthe stuff that was to be melted. Within the past four days inductionfurnaces of a new type had proved able to induce heat in chosen objectsup to miles. It had been expected to smelt metal ore in the veins inwhich it was found, and to make mines yield their product as metalwithout digging up and puttering with useless rock. But now thisapparatus had been combined with radar. 

When a radar detected a missile or an enemy plane, the broadcast saidcarefully, an induction furnace of the new type was turned upon theplane or missile. The effect was exactly that of enclosing the missilein a burning blast-furnace. It melted. The most careful tests assuredAmerica, then, that any city protected by radar-controlledremote-induction furnaces was safe against atomic attack and its dreaddestruction. 

And at the time of this broadcast, every major center of population inthe United States was already protected by the new defense-system. Thecities which had been most vulnerable were now the safest places in thenation. And it was found, added the contented voice, that atomic bombswere not detonated by the induction fields. The induced currents seemedto freeze firing mechanisms. It appeared impossible to design adetonating device which would blow up a bomb before it melted. 

The broadcast ended in a matter-of-fact statement that plans for thedefense-system had been given to all the allies of the United States, that London was already protected and Paris would be within hours, andthat within days the nations which were not allies would be assisted toestablish defenses, so that atomic war need not be feared in the future. 

Soames listened with an odd expression on his face. 

"That, " he said, "started out as a gadget for a castaway to stop arrowsthat savages were sniping at him with. I'm very pleased. "

There was no more for him to say. The pleasure he felt, of course, wouldbe the only reward he was likely to get. At the moment he was bent uponan enterprise his fellow-Americans would have regarded with horror. 

 * * * * *

Far, far below and surrounded by the blackness of tree-covered ground instarlight, there was an irregular shape of brightness. It was mileslong. It reflected the stars. It was the flood-control reservoir behindthe Polder Dam. There was no power-plant here. This reservoir merelytook the place of some hundreds of thousands of acres of timbered-offforest which once had controlled floods more effectively. 

Without a word, Soames slanted the 'copter down. Presently it hovereddelicately over the dam's crest and at its very center. It touched. Therotor ceased to whirl. The motor stopped. There was a great silence. 

Fran scrambled down. Soames swung after him. Together, they set up thedevice which was a time-transposition unit, with its complicated smallantenna aimed out at the waters of the reservoir. 

"I've gambled, " said Soames, "that we understand each other. Now youpull the string. "

There was a cord which would discharge the strobe-packs through theapparatus itself. The discharge would cease with absolute abruptness. The packs would then recharge themselves from the special batteriesincluded in the device. 

Fran pulled the cord. 

There was no noise except a small and inadequate "snap. " It seemed thatnothing happened. But there was suddenly a hole in the surface of thereservoir. It was a large hole. 

Something came up out of it. It glittered in ghostly fashion in thestarlight. It rose up and up and up. It was a cylinder with a roundedtop and a diameter of fifty feet or so. It rose and rose, verydeliberately. Then a rounded lower end appeared. It floated in the air. 

Fran jerked the cord again. Another hole in the lake. Another roundmetal thing rising slowly, one would even say peacefully into thestarlight. Fran, grinning happily, jerked the cord again and yetagain. .. . 

There were eight gigantic shining cylinders in the air when he stoppedand stood back, his eyes shining. A vast metal thing floated ponderouslynear. A port opened and a voice called down in the language the childrenused among themselves. Fran spoke back, remembering to turn on hissensory communicator. 

Fran talked briskly as if to himself. But it was standardsensory-communication practice. After a long time he turned to Soames. 

"My people say--" a pause--"thank you--" another pause, "and ask forZani and Mal and Hod. "

"Tell them to make a column of themselves and float right here, going upto ten thousand feet or so. Radars will pick them out. Planes will comein the night to see what they are. They'll guess. I doubt very much thatthey'll attack. Tell your people simply to keep them worried until wecome back. "

Fran zestfully swarmed back into the helicopter. Soames told him:

"Turn off your communicator. You'll be listened in on. But maybe themonitoring men are having their hair stand on end from the welter ofcommunications from the ships!"

Fran wriggled with excitement as the 'copter rose once more. 

 * * * * *

Soames had an odd feeling that all this could not be true. But it was, down to the last least detail which had made it thinkable for him todefy all his fellow-men to keep faith with four children whose lives anderrand he'd interfered with. The matter had been a very naturaloversight, at first. 

Of course Soames had assumed that the children's civilization had beenone of very millions of people. A small city cannot establish ormaintain a great technological civilization. He had been right. He'dassumed, even, that Fran's people were able to travel between planets. Again he'd been right. But the thing he hadn't thought of was that thedevelopment of transposition in time--and transposition in space wouldcome later--wouldn't occur to anybody unless there was absolutely noother possible solution to the problem the Old Race faced. They wouldn'thave tried to solve it until the Fifth Planet burst and the doom of theworld they lived on was self-evident. They wouldn't have worked at ituntil they realized that Venus and Mercury were due to be shatteredafter Earth, just as Mars was bombarded before it. 

So the struggle to escape through time was begun in the fifty-ninthminute of the last hour. Cities struggled to build time-ships and get apioneer vessel through to future time. Asteroids plunged down upon them, wiping them out. Cities struggled on, passing to each other--to thethinning number of those who remained--such solutions to such problemsas they developed. But there were fewer and fewer. .. . The city fromwhich the children came had fallen in ruins from earth-shocks, and onlya fraction of its population continued frantically to labor on. .. . 

But Soames hadn't thought of this. It was Gail who found it out from thechildren with her. And she'd told Soames that he must help Fran at anycost, and told the reason in two words and a number. Speaking of Fran'speople, she'd told Soames, "_Only 2, 000 left. _"

It was true. It checked with the number of ships that came through tomodernity. Only two thousand people remained of Fran's race. They couldnot conquer two billions of humankind. They could not rule them. Theycould only take refuge among them, and share what knowledge they couldwith them. 

Fran leaned happily against Soames' shoulder. The 'copter swung awayfrom a broad wide valley. 

Fran pointed. Two valleys came together here. He, who had come away fromthe missile base on foot, was an authority on how to get back to it in ahelicopter. 

The 'copter flew on. 

 * * * * *

Fran said:

"There!"

And there were small lights, the color of kerosene lamps. But they werenot lamps, but electric lights. Soames sent the 'copter sweeping towardthe remarkably convincing Rocky Mountain village. The ship barelycleared an electrified fence, the last of three. But if there weresentries who might have fired on it, they had already heard of thearrival of a fleet of alien spaceships. Nothing so human as a helicoptercould be an enemy when an invading fleet from who-knows-where was justreported. .. . 

The 'copter settled to ground with a whistling noise. Soames cut off themotors. Then Fran was calling joyously, and Zani squealed from a window, and Hod came tumbling out of a window and Mal popped out of nowhere andcame running. There were shouts in the village. Then Gail was coming, also. 

"Pile aboard!" commanded Soames. "Your families are here, kids, andthey're waiting for you. And, Gail, there's going to be the mostthoroughly scared gang at the UN and elsewhere that you ever saw, nowthat what they think's a space-fleet is actually here! We've been decentto the kids, and they think they haven't, so we'll hold out forauthority to argue. .. . "

 * * * * *

A door slammed. Fran said happily:

"Let's go!"

Motors boomed. The helicopter lifted. It rushed over the village, bellowing. Tree-branches thrashed violently in the down draught. Itswept splendidly away down a valley leading to another valley and undera precipitous cliff and down more valleys. There was a place where eightsilvery spacecraft floated composedly above the Earth, with the fewsurvivors of a great civilization peering out, waiting for dawn so theycould see a new world, a fresh world healed of all scars, waiting. .. . 

Soames pulled Gail to him. "I've got to make friends with these people, Gail!" His voice trembled with excitement. "You see? They've got awonderful science, but we've got to get to work on it! They need amodern viewpoint! That time-transposing system they've used to savetheir lives, it's bound to work as a space-transposer too! I've got towork it out with their engineers! We've got to get enough power togetherto send some sort of miniature transposer out to Centaurus andAldebaran, and then have regular interstellar transposition routes and aspate of worlds for everybody to move to who feels like it. .. . Takingwhat these people have, and adding our stuff to it . .. We'll really goplaces!"

They swept over the reflecting waters which were the reservoir behindthe Polder Dam. Fran spoke aloud, for someone somewhere else to hear. Hespoke again. He was using his own, home-made sensory communicator. Thenhe suddenly touched Soames' arm. 

"My people say--" pause "you talk for them. " He grinned. "Let's go!"

And the 'copter touched solidity and a great silvery cylinder touchedvery delicately close by, and the children ran, squealing, to be withpeople they'd feared they would never see again. And Soames and Gailwalked a little bit diffidently toward the same opened, lowered door. There were some rather nice people waiting for them. They'd raised finechildren. They needed Soames and Gail to help them make friends. 

Somehow it did not occur to Soames that he was the occasion, if not thecause, that on this one day and within hours, the danger of atomic waron Earth was ended, and the human race was headed for the stars insteadof annihilation. But it was true. The people of the Old Race, of course, would not try to rule Earth. They were too few. They wouldn't want to goto another planet and be alone. Again they were too few. They were thelast survivors of a very magnificent civilization, but they could notmaintain it unless they shared it with the people of Earth of now. Theycould only join the sprawling younger branch of the human race ascitizens. 

But humans, now, had a new destiny. With Gail close beside him, Soameswaited for the greetings of the children and their parents to end. Helooked at Gail. Her eyes were shining. 

Soames felt very good. It was a perfect solution to the troubles ofEarth, both past and future. 

The stars were waiting. 

THE END

PRINTED IN U. S. A. 

Transcriber's Note:

 This etext was produced from _Amazing Science Fiction Stories_ September 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.