THE STUTTERER BY R. R. MERLISS _A man can be killed by a toy gun--he can die of fright, for heart attacks can kill. What, then, is the deadly thing that must be sealed away, forever locked in buried concrete--a thing or an idea?_ Illustrated by Riley [Illustration] Out of the twenty only one managed to escape the planet. And he did itvery simply, merely by walking up to the crowded ticket window at one ofthe rocket ports and buying passage to Earth. His Army identificationpapers passed the harassed inspection of the agent, and he gratefullyand silently pocketed the small plastic stub that was handed him inexchange for his money. He picked his way with infinite care through the hordes of ex-soldiersclamoring for passage back to the multitudinous planets from which theyhad come. Then he slowly climbed the heavy ramp into the waiting rocket. He saw with relief that the seats were strongly constructed, built tosurvive the pressure of many gravities and he chose one as far removedas possible from the other passengers. He was still very apprehensive, and, as he waited for the rocket to takeoff, he tried hard to remember the principles of the pulse drive thatpowered the ship, and whether his additional weight would upset itsefficiency enough to awaken suspicion. The seats filled quickly with excited hurrying passengers. Soon he heardthe great door clang shut, and saw the red light flicker on, warning ofthe take-off. He felt a slow surge of pressure as the ship arose fromthe ground, and his chair creaked ominously with the extra weight. Hebecame fearful that it might collapse, and he strained forward trying toshift some of the pressure through his feet to the floor. He sat thatway, tense and immobile, for what seemed a long time until abruptly thestrain was relieved and he heard the rising and falling whine of therockets that told him the ship was in pulse drive, flickering back andforth across the speed of light. He realized that the pilots had not discovered his extra weight, andthat the initial hazards were over. The important thing was to look likea passenger, a returning soldier like the others, so that no one wouldnotice him and remember his presence. His fellow travelers were by this time chatting with one another, someplaying cards, and others watching the teledepth screens. These were theadventurers who had flocked from all corners of the galaxy to fight inthe first national war in centuries. They were the uncivilized few whohad read about battle and armed struggle in their history books andfound the old stories exciting. They paid no attention to their silent companion who sat quietly lookingthrough the quartz windows at the diamond-bright stars, tacked againstthe blackness of infinity. The fugitive scarcely moved the entire time of the passage. Finally whenEarth hung out in the sky like a blue balloon, the ship cut itspulsations and swung around for a tail landing. The atmosphere screamed through the fins of the rocket, and thecontinents and the countries, and then the rivers and the mountains tookshape. The big ship settled down as gently as a snowflake, shuddered afew times and was quiet. * * * * * The passengers hurriedly gathered up their scattered belongings andpushed toward the exit in a great rush to be out and back on Earth. The fugitive was the last to leave. He stayed well away from the others, being fearful that, if he should touch or brush up against someone, hisidentity might be recognized. When he saw the ramp running from the ship to the ground, he wasdismayed. It seemed a flimsy structure, supported only by tubular steel. Five people were walking down it, and he made a mental calculation oftheir weight--about eight hundred pounds he thought. He weighed fivetimes that. The ramp was obviously never built to support such a load. He hesitated, and then he realized that he had caught the eye of thestewardess waiting on the ground. A little panicky, he stepped out withone foot and he was horrified to feel the steel buckle. He drew backhastily and threw a quick glance at the stewardess. Fortunately at themoment she was looking down one field and waving at someone. The ramp floor was supported by steel tubes at its edges and in itsexact center. He tentatively put one foot in the middle over the supportand gradually shifted his weight to it. The metal complained creakily, but held, and he slowly trod the exact center line to Earth. Thestewardess' back was turned toward him as he walked off across the fieldtoward the customhouse. He found it comforting to have under his feet what felt like at leastone yard of cement. He could step briskly and not be fearful ofbetraying himself. There was one further danger: the customs inspector. He took his place at the end of the line and waited patiently until itled him up to a desk at which a uniformed man sat, busily checking andstamping declarations and traveling papers. The official, however, didnot even look up when he handed him his passport and identification. "Human. You don't have to go through immigration, " the agent said. "Doyou have anything to declare?" "N-no, " the traveler said. "I d-didn't bring anything in. " "Sign the affidavit, " the agent said and pushed a sheet of paper towardhim. The traveler picked up a pen from the desk and signed "Jon Hall" in aclear, perfect script. The agent gave it a passing glance and tossed it into a wire basket. Then he pushed his uniform cap back exposing a bald head. "You're mylast customer for a while, until the rocket from Sirius comes in. GuessI might as well relax for a minute. " He reached into a drawer of thedesk and pulled out a package of cigarettes, of which he lit one. "You been in the war, too?" he asked. Hall nodded. He did not want to talk any more than he had to. The agent studied his face. "That's funny, " he said after a minute. "I never would have picked youfor one of these so-called adventurers. You're too quiet and peacefullooking. I would have put you down as a doctor or maybe a writer. " "N-no, " Hall said. "I w-was in the war. " "Well, that shows you can't tell by looking at a fellow, " the agent saidphilosophically. He handed Hall his papers. "There you are. The leftdoor leads out to the copter field. Good luck on Earth!" Hall pocketed the stamped documents. "Thanks, " he said. "I'm glad to behere. " He walked down the wide station room to a far exit and pushed the dooropen. A few steps farther and he was standing on a cement path dug intoa hillside. * * * * * Across the valley, bright in the noon sun lay the pine covered slopes ofthe Argus mountains, and at his feet the green Mojave flowering withorchards stretched far to the north and south. Between the trees, in thecenter of the valley, the Sacramento River rolled southward in aman-made bed of concrete and steel giving water and life to what had acentury before been dry dead earth. There was a small outcropping of limestone near the cement walk, and hestepped over to it and sat down. He would have been happy to rest andenjoy for a few moments his escape and his triumph, but he had to letthe others know so that they might have hope. He closed his eyes and groped across the stars toward Grismet. Almostimmediately he felt an impatient tug at his mind, strong because therewere many clamoring at once to be heard. He counted them. There wereseventeen. So one more had been captured since he had left Grismet. "Be quiet, " the told them. "I'll let you see, after a while. First Ihave to reach the two of us that are still free. " Obediently, the seventeen were still, and he groped some more and foundanother of his kind deep in an ice cave in the polar regions of Grismet. "How goes it?" he asked. The figure on Grismet lay stretched out at full length on the blue ice, his eyes closed. He answered without moving: "They discovered myradiation about an hour ago. Pretty soon, they'll start blasting throughthe ice. " The one on Earth felt the chill despair of his comrade and let go. Hegroped about again until he found the last one, the only other one left. He was squatting in the cellar of a warehouse in the main city ofGrismet. "Have they picked up your trail yet?" he asked. "No, " answered the one in the cellar. "They won't for a while. I'vescattered depots of radiation all through the town. They'll be some timetracking them all down, before they can get to me. " In a flash of his mind, Hall revealed his escape and the one on Grismetnodded and said: "Be careful. Be very careful. You are our only hope. " Hall returned then to the seventeen, and he said with his thoughts: "Allright, now you can look. " Immobile in their darkness, they snatched athis mind, and as he opened his eyes, they, too, saw the splendors of themountains and the valley, the blue sky, and the gold sun high overhead. * * * * * The new man was young, only twenty-six. He was lean and dark and veryenthusiastic about his work. He sat straight in his chair waitingattentively while his superior across the desk leafed through a folder. "Jordan. Tom Jordan, " the older man finally said. "A nice old Earthname. I suppose your folks came from there. " "Yes, sir, " the new man said briskly. The chief closed the folder. "Well, " he said, "your first job is a pretty important one. " "I realize that, sir, " Jordan said. "I know it's a great responsibilityfor a man just starting with the Commission, but I'll give it everything I have. " The chief leaned back in his seat and scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Normally we start a beginner like you working in a pair with an olderman. But we just haven't got enough men to go around. There are eightthousand planets there"--he pointed with his thumb over his shoulder toa wall-sized map of the galaxy--"and we've got to cover every one. Itseems reasonable that if he escaped this planet, he'll go to anotherthat will by its atmosphere or its temperature give him some naturaladvantage over us--some place that is either burning hot or at absolutezero, or perhaps with a chlorine or sulfur dioxide atmosphere. That'swhy"--he hesitated a minute, but continued because he was a truthfulman--"I picked you for Earth. It's the most populated of all the planetsand it seems the least likely one that he would choose. " Jordan's face dropped a little bit when he heard the last piece ofinformation, but he said: "I understand, sir, and if he's there, I'llbring him back. " The chief slouched farther back in his seat. He picked up a shard ofrubidium that served as a paper weight and toyed with it. "I guess you know most of the facts. They are made out of permallium. Have you ever seen any of the stuff?" The new man shook his head. "I read about it though--some new alloy, isn't it?" "Plenty new. It's the hardest stuff anybody has ever made. If you setoff one hundred successive atom blasts over a lump of permallium, youmight crystallize and scale maybe a micron off the surface. It willstand any temperature or pressure we can produce. That just meansthere's no way to destroy it. " Jordan nodded. He felt a little honored that the chief was giving himthis explanation in person rather than just turning him over to one ofthe scientific personnel for a briefing. He did not understand that theold man was troubled and was talking the situation through as much forhis own sake as for anyone else's. * * * * * "That's the problem, " the chief continued. "Essentially anindestructible machine with a built-in source of power that one can'treach. It had to be built that way--a war instrument, you know. " He stopped and looked squarely at the bright young man sitting acrossthe desk. "This lousy war. You'd think the human race would grow up sometime, wouldn't you?" He filled a pipe with imported Earth tobacco andlit it, and took a few deep puffs. "There's something else. I don't knowhow they do it, but they can communicate with one another over longdistances. That made them very useful for military purposes. "They are loyal to one another, too. They try to protect each other andkeep one another from being captured. Do you find that surprising?" The question caught Jordan unprepared. "Well, yes. It is, kind of--" hesaid. "They are only machines. " The chief closed his eyes for a moment. He seemed tired. "Yes, " he repeated, "they are only machines. Anyway, we don't knoweverything about them, even yet. There are still a few secret angles, Ithink. The men who could tell us are either dead or in hiding. "There's one fact though that gives us a great advantage. Theirbrain"--he stopped on the word and considered it--"I mean their thinkingapparatus gives off a very penetrating short-wave length radiation whichyou can pick up on your meters anywhere in a radius of two thousandmiles, and you can locate the source accurately if you get within fiftymiles. "The only real problem you'll have in finding them is the confusioncreated by illegal atomic piles. You'd be surprised how many of them wehave turned up recently. They are owned by private parties and are runillegally to keep from paying the tax on sources of power. You have totrack those down, but once you get them labeled it will be clearsailing. " He stopped to take a few puffs on his pipe. "Don't try to be a hero, " he said after a few moments. "Don't get closeto the thing you are hunting. None of them yet has injured any of us, but if one should want to, he could crush you to death with twofingers. Use the permallium nets and net bombs if you locate him. " He tamped his pipe out. "Well, that's it, " he said. The new man arose. "I want you to know that I appreciate the trust youhave put in me. " "Sure, sure, " the chief said, but it was not unfriendly. "Do you likethe job?" "It is a great opportunity, " Jordan said, and he meant it. "What do you think about what we do to them after we capture them?" The new man shrugged. "I suppose it's the only thing to do. It's not asthough they were human. " "Yeah, " the chief said. "I guess so. Anyway, good luck. " Jordan arose and shook the chief's hand. However, just as he wasstepping through the door, his superior asked him another question. "Didyou know that one of them stutters?" He turned back, puzzled. "Stutters? Why should he stutter? How couldthat be?" The chief shook his head and started cleaning out his pipe. "I don't know for sure. You'd better get started. " He sat back in hisseat and watched the back of the new man as he disappeared through thedoorway. That young fellow has a lot to learn, he thought to himself. But evenso, maybe he's better off than I am. Maybe I've had too much experience. Maybe too much experience puts you back where you started from. You'vedone the wrong thing so many times and profited so many times from yourmistakes that you see errors and tragedies in everything. He was depressed, and he did something that usually made him feel betteragain. He reached under the edge of his desk and pulled a little switchthat made the galactic map on the wall light up in three-dimensionaldepth, then he swung around in his chair so he could see it. Eightthousand planets that his race had conquered, eight thousand planetshundreds of light-years apart. Looking at the map gave him a sense ofaccomplishment and pride in humanity which even a stupid war and itsaftermath could not completely destroy. * * * * * Jon Hall, the fugitive, walked along the highway leading south from therocket port. There was very little traffic, only an occasional deliverytruck carrying meat or groceries. The real highway was half a mileoverhead where the copters shuttled back and forth up and down the statein neat orderly layers. The seventeen were inside his head, looking through his eyes, andfeasting on the blueness of the sky, and the rich green vegetation thatcovered the fertile fields. From time to time they talked to him, givingadvice, asking questions, or making comments, but mostly they looked, each knowing that the hours of their sight might be very few. After walking a while, Hall became aware of someone's footsteps behindhim. He stopped suddenly in apprehension and swung around. A dozen or sopaces away was a red-headed boy of about ten or eleven, dressed inplastic overalls, and carrying a basket of ripe raspberries. The stainsabout his mouth showed that not all the raspberries were carried in thebasket. Hall's anxiety faded, and he was glad to see the child. He had hoped tomeet someone who was not so old that they would become suspicious, butold enough that they might give him directions. He waited for the lad to catch up. "Hello, " the boy said. "I've been walking behind you most of a mile, butI guess you didn't hear me. " "It looks as though you've been p-p-picking raspberries, " Hall said. "Yup. My dad owns a patch by the river. Want some?" He proffered thebasket. "No, thank you, " Hall answered. He resumed his walk up the highway withthe boy at his side. "D-do you live around here, " he asked. "Just up the road a ways. " The lad studied his companion for a minute. "You stutter, don't you?" "A little. " "There was a boy in my class who used to stutter. The teacher said itwas because he thought so far ahead of what he said he got all tangledup. " The boy reached in his basket for a handful of berries and chewedthem thoughtfully. "She was always after him to talk slower, but I guessit didn't do any good. He still stutters. " "Is there a p-power plant around here?" Hall asked. "You know, where theelectricity comes from. " "You mean the place where they have the nu-nuclear fission"--the boystumbled on the unfamiliar word, but got it out--"and they don't let youin because you get poisoned or something?" "Yes, I think that's it. " "There are two places. There's one over at Red Mountain and another overat Ballarat. " "Where are they?" "Well--" The boy stopped to think. "Red Mountain's straight ahead, maybeten miles, and Ballarat's over there"--he pointed west across the orangegroves--"maybe fifteen miles. " "Good, " Hall said. "Good. " And he felt glad inside of himself. Maybe itcould be done, he thought. * * * * * They walked along together. Hall sometimes listening to the chatteringof the boy beside him, sometimes listening to and answering the distantvoices of the seventeen. Abruptly, a few hundred yards before the housethat the boy had pointed out as his father's, a small sports car whippeddown the highway, coming on them almost without warning. The lad jumpedsideways, and Hall, to avoid touching him, stepped off the concreteroad. His leg sank into the earth up to the mid-calf. He pulled it outas quickly as he could. The boy was looking at the fast retreating rear of the sports car. "Gee, " he said. "I sure didn't see them coming. " Then he caught sight ofthe deep hole alongside the road, and he stared at it. "Gosh, you suremade a footprint there, " he said wonderingly. "The ground was soft, " Hall said. "C-come along. " But instead of following, the boy walked over to the edge of the roadand stared into the hole. He tentatively stamped on the earth around it. "This ground isn't soft, " he said. "It's hard as a rock. " He turned andlooked at Hall with big eyes. Hall came close to the boy and took hold of his jacket. "D-don't pay anyattention to it, son. I just stepped into a soft spot. " The boy tried to pull away. "I know who you are, " he said. "I heardabout you on the teledepth. " Suddenly, in the way of children, panic engulfed him and he flung hisbasket away and threw himself back and forth, trying to tear free. "Letme go, " he screamed. "Let me go. Let me go. " "Just l-listen to me, son, " Hall pleaded. "Just listen to me. I won'thurt you. " But the boy was beyond reasoning. Terror stricken, he screamed at thetop of his voice, using all his little strength to escape. "If you p-promise to l-listen to me, I'll let you go, " Hall said. "I promise, " the boy sobbed, still struggling. But the moment Hall let go of his coat, he tore away and ran as fast ashe could over the adjacent field. "W-wait--don't run away, " Hall shouted. "I won't hurt you. Stay whereyou are. I couldn't follow you anyway. I'd sink to my hips. " The logic of the last sentence appealed to the frightened lad. Hehesitated and then stopped and turned around, a hundred feet or so fromthe highway. "L-listen, " said Hall earnestly. "The teledepths are wr-wrong. Theyd-didn't tell you the t-truth about us. I d-don't want to hurt anyone. All I n-need is a few hours. D-don't tell anyone for j-just a few hoursand it'll be all right. " He paused because he didn't know what to saynext. The boy, now that he seemed secure from danger had recovered his wits. He plucked a blade of grass from the ground and chewed on an end of it, looking for all the world like a grownup farmer thoughtfully consideringhis fields. "Well, I guess you could have hurt me plenty, but youdidn't, " he said. "That's something. " "Just a few hours, " Hall said. "It won't take long. Y-you can tell yourfather tonight. " The boy suddenly remembered his raspberries when he saw his basket andits spilled contents on the highway. "Why don't you go along a bit, " he said. "I would like to pick up thoseberries I dropped. " "Remember, " Hall said, "just a few hours. " He turned and startedwalking again toward Red Mountain. Inside his mind, the seventeen askedanxiously, "Do you think he'll give the alarm? Will he report yourpresence?" [Illustration] Back on the highway, the boy was gathering the berries back into hisbasket while he tried to make his mind up. * * * * * Jordan reached Earth atmosphere about two o'clock in the afternoon. Heimmediately reported in to the Terrestrial police force, and via theteledepth screen spoke with a bored lieutenant. The lieutenant, afterlistening to Jordan's account of his mission, assured him without anyparticular enthusiasm of the willingness of the Terrestrial forces tocoöperate, and of more value, gave him the location of all licensedsources of radiation in the western hemisphere. The galactic agent set eagerly to work, and in the next several hoursuncovered two unlisted radiation sources, both of which he promptlyinvestigated. In one case, north of Eugene, he found in the backyard ofa metal die company a small atomic pile. The owner was using it as anillegal generator of electricity, and when he saw Jordan snooping aboutwith his detection instruments, he immediately offered the agent asizable bribe. It was a grave mistake since Jordan filed charges againsthim, via teledepth, not only for evading taxes, but also for attemptedbribery. The second strike seemed more hopeful. He picked up strong radiation ina rather barren area of Montana; however when he landed, he found thatit was arising from the earth itself. From a short conversation with thelocal authorities, he learned that the phenomenon was well known: anatomic fission plant had been destroyed at that site during the ThirdWorld War. He was flying over the lovely blue water of Lake Bonneville, when histeledepth screen flickered. He flipped the switch on and thelieutenant's picture flooded in. "I have a call I think you ought to take, " the Earth official said. "Itseems as though it might be in your line. It's from a sheriff in a smalltown in California. I'll have the operator plug him in. " * * * * * Abruptly the picture switched to that of a stout red-faced man wearingthe brown uniform of a county peace officer. "You're the galactic man?" the sheriff asked. "Yes. My name is Tom Jordan, " Jordan said. "Mine's Berkhammer. " It must have been warm in California because thesheriff pulled out a large handkerchief and mopped his brow. When he wasdone with that he blew his nose loudly. "Hay fever, " he announced. "Want to see my credentials?" "Oh sure, sure, " the sheriff hastily replied. He scrutinized the cardand badge that Jordan displayed. After a moment, he said, "I don't knowwhy I'm looking at those. They might be fakes for all I know. Never sawthem before and I'll probably never see them again. " "They're genuine. " "The deuce with formality, " the sheriff said heavily. "There's some kidaround here who thinks he saw that ... That machine you're supposed tobe looking for. " "When was that?" Jordan asked. "About four hours ago. Here, I'll let you talk to him yourself. " Hepulled his big bulk to one side, and a boy and his father walked intothe picture. The boy was red-eyed, as though he had been crying. Thefather was a tall, stoop-shouldered farmer, dressed like his son inplastic overalls. * * * * * The sheriff patted the boy on the back. "Come on, Jimmy. Tell the manwhat you saw. " "I saw him, " the boy said sullenly. "I walked up the highway with him. " Jordan leaned forward toward the screen. "How did you know who he was?" "I knew because when he stepped on the ground, he sank into it up to hisknee. He tried to say the ground was soft, but it was hard. I know itwas hard. " "Why did you wait so long to tell anybody?" Jordan asked softly. The boy looked at him with defiance and dislike in his eyes and kept hissmall mouth clamped shut. His father nudged him roughly in the ribs. "Answer the man, " he commanded. Jimmy looked down at his shoes. "Because he asked me not to tell for a while, " he said curtly. "Stubborn as nails, " the father said not without pride in his voice. "Got more loyalty to a lousy machine than to the whole human race. " "Which way did he go, Jimmy?" "Toward Red Mountain. I think maybe to the power house. He asked mewhere it was. " "What do you think he wants with that?" the sheriff asked of Jordan. Jordan shrugged and shook his head. "Maybe it's all in the kid's head, " the sheriff suggested. "These wildteledepth programs they look at give them all kinds of ideas. " "It isn't in my head, " Jimmy said violently. "I saw him. He stepped onthe ground and stuck his foot into it. I talked to him. And I knowsomething else. He stutters. " "What?" said the sheriff. "Now I know you're lying. " The father started dragging the boy by the arm. "Come on home, Jimmy. You got one more licking coming. " Jordan, however, was sure the boy was not lying. "Leave him alone, " hesaid. "He's right. He did see him. " He took a fast look at the timepieceon his panel board. "I'll be down in an hour and a half. Wait for me. " He flicked the switch off, and kicked up the motors. The ship shotsouthward almost as rapidly as a projectile. He had topped the Sierras and had just turned into the great centralvalley of California when, with the impact of a blow, a frighteningthought occurred to him. He flicked the screen on again, and he caught the sheriff sitting behindhis desk industriously scratching himself in one armpit. "Listen, " Jordan said, speaking very fast. "You've got to send out anational alarm. You must get every man you can down to the power plant. You've got to stop him from getting in. " The sheriff stopped scratching himself and stared at Jordan. "What are you so het up about, young man?" "Do it, and do it now, " Jordan almost shouted. "He'll tear the pileapart and let the hafnium go off. It'll blow half the state off theplanet. " The sheriff was unperturbed. "Mr. Star boy, " he said sarcastically, "anygrammar school kid knows that if someone came within a hundred yards ofone of those power-house piles, he'd burn like a match stick. Andbesides why would he want to blow himself to pieces?" "He's made out of permallium. " Jordan was shouting now. The sheriff suddenly grew pale. "Get off my screen. I'm callingSacramento. " * * * * * Jordan set the ship for maximum speed, well beyond the safety limit. Hekept peering ahead into the dusk, momentarily fearful that the wholecountryside would light up in one brilliant flash. In a few minutes hewas sweating and trembling with the tension. Over Walnut Grove, he recognized the series of dams, reservoirs andwater-lifts where the Sacramento was raised up out of its bed and turnedsouth. For greater speed, he came close to Earth, flying at emergencyheight, reserved ordinarily for police, firemen, doctors and ambulances. He set his course by sight following the silver road of the river, losing it for ten or fifteen miles at a time where it passed throughsubterranean tunnels, picking it up again at the surface, alwaysshooting south as fast as the atmosphere permitted. At seven thirty, when the sun had finally set, he sighted the lights ofRed Mountain, and he cut his speed and swung in to land. There was notrouble picking out the power plant; it was a big dome-shaped buildingsurrounded by a high wall. It was so brilliantly lit up, that it stoodout like a beacon, and there were several hundred men milling aboutbefore it. He settled down on the lawn inside the walls, and the sheriff camebustling up, a little more red in the face than usual. "I've been trying to figure for the last hour what the devil I would doto stop him if he decided to come here, " Berkhammer said. "He's not here then?" The sheriff shook his head. "Not a sign of him. We've gone over theplace three times. " Jordan settled back in relief, sitting down in the open doorway of hisship. "Good, " he said wearily. "Good!" the sheriff exploded. "I don't know whether I'd rather have himshow up or not. If this whole business is nothing more than the crazyimagination of some kid who ought to get tanned and a star-cop with milkbehind his ears, I'm really in the soup. I've sent out an alarm and I'vegot the whole state jumping. There's a full mechanized battalion ofstate troops waiting in there. " He pointed toward the power plant. "They've got artillery and tanks all around the place. " Jordan jumped down out of the ship. "Let's see what you've got set uphere. In the meantime, stop fretting. I'd rather see you fired thanvaporized along with fifty million other people. " "I guess you're right there, " Berkhammer conceded, "but I don't like tohave anyone make a fool out of me. " * * * * * At Ballarat, an old man, Eddie Yudovich, was the watchman and generalcaretaker of the electrical generation plant. Actually, his job was acompletely unnecessary one, since the plant ran itself. In its verycenter, buried in a mine of graphite were the tubes of hafnium, fromwhose nuclear explosions flowed a river of electricity without the needof human thought or direction. He had worked for the company for a long time and when he becamecrippled with arthritis, the directors gave him the job so that he mighthave security in his latter years. Yudovich, however, was a proud old man, and he never once acknowledgedto himself or to anyone else that his work was useless. He guarded andchecked the plant as though it were the storehouse of the TerrestrialTreasury. Every hour punctually, he made his rounds through thebuilding. At approximately seven thirty he was making his usual circuit when hecame to the second level. What he discovered justified all the years ofpunctilious discharge of his duties. He was startled to see a mankneeling on the floor, just above where the main power lines ran. He hadtorn a hole in the composition floor, and as Yudovich watched, hereached in and pulled out the great cable. Immediately the intruderglowed in the semidarkness with an unearthly blue shine and sparklescrackled off of his face, hands and feet. Yudovich stood rooted to the floor. He knew very well that no man couldtouch that cable and live. But as he watched, the intruder handled itwith impunity, pulling a length of wire out of his pocket and makingsome sort of a connection. It was too much for the old man. Electricity was obviously being stolen. He roared out at the top of his voice, and stumped over to the wallwhere he threw the alarm switch. Immediately, a hundred arc lightsflashed on, lighting the level brighter than the noon sun, and atremendously loud siren started wailing its warning to the wholecountryside. The intruder jumped up as though he had been stabbed. He dropped thewires, and after a wild look around him, he ran at full speed toward thefar exit. "Hold on there, " Yudovich shouted and tried to give chase, but hisswollen, crooked knees almost collapsed with the effort. His eyes fell on a large wrench lying on a worktable, and he snatched itup and threw it with all his strength. In his youth he had been a ballplayer with some local fame as a pitcher, and in his later life, he wasaddicted to playing horseshoes. His aim was, therefore, good, and thewrench sailed through the air striking the runner on the back of thehead. Sparks flew and there was a loud metallic clang, the wrenchrebounding high in the air. The man who was struck did not even turn hishead, but continued his panicky flight and was gone in a second. When he realized there was no hope of effecting a capture, Yudovichstumped over to see the amount of the damage. A hole had been torn inthe floor, but the cable itself was intact. Something strange caught his attention. Wherever the intruder had puthis foot down, there were many radiating cracks in the compositionfloor, just as though someone had struck a sheet of ice with a sledgehammer. "I'll be danged, " he said to himself. "I'll be danged and doubledanged. " He turned off the alarm and then went downstairs to the teledepth screento notify the sheriff's office. A few hundred yards from the powerhouse, Jon Hall stood in the darkness, listening to the voices of his fellows. There were eighteen of them, notseventeen, for a short while before the one in the ice cave had beencaptured, and they railed at him with a bitter hopeless anger. He looked toward the bright lights of the powerhouse, consideringwhether he should return. "It's too late, " said one of them. "The alarmis already out. " "Go into the town and mix with the people, " anothersuggested. "If you stay within a half mile of the hafnium pile, thedetection man will not be able to pick up your radiation and maybe youwill have a second chance. " They all assented in that, and Hall, weary of making his own decisionsturned toward the town. He walked through a tree-lined residentialstreet, the houses with neatly trimmed lawns, and each with a copterparked on the roof. In almost every house the teledepths were turned onand he caught snatches of bulletins about himself: "... Is known to bein the Mojave area. " "... About six feet in height and very similar to ahuman being. When last seen, he was dressed in--" "Governor Leibowitzhas promised speedy action and attorney general Markle has stated--" The main street of Ballarat was brilliantly lighted. Many of theresidents, aroused by the alarm from the powerhouse, were out, standingin small groups in front of the stores and talking excitedly to oneanother. He hesitated, unwilling to walk through the bright street, but uncertainwhere to turn. Two men talking loudly came around the corner suddenlyand he stepped back into a store entrance to avoid them. They stoppeddirectly in front of him. One of them, an overalled farm hand from hislooks, said, "He killed a kid just a little while ago. My brother-in-lawheard it. " "Murderer, " the other said viciously. The farmer turned his head and his glance fell on Hall. "Well, a newface in town, " he said after a moment's inspection. "Say I bet you're areporter from one of the papers, aren't you?" Hall came out of the entrance and tried to walk around the two men, butthe farmer caught him by the sleeve. "A reporter, huh? Well, I got some news for you. That thing from Grismetjust killed a kid. " Hall could restrain himself no longer. "That's a lie, " he said coldly. The farmer looked him up and down. "What do you know about it, " he demanded. "My brother-in-law got it fromsomebody in the state guard. " "It's still a lie. " "Just because it's not on the teledepth, you say it's a lie, " the farmersaid belligerently. "Not everything is told on the teledepth, Mr. Wiseheimer. They're keeping it a secret. They don't want to scare thepeople. " Hall started to walk away, but the farmer blocked his path. "Who are you anyway? Where do you live? I never saw you before, " he saidsuspiciously. "Aw, Randy, " his companion said, "don't go suspecting everybody. " "I don't like anyone to call me a liar. " Hall stepped around the man in his path, and turned down the street. Hewas boiling inside with an almost uncontrollable fury. * * * * * A few feet away, catastrophe suddenly broke loose. A faulty section ofthe sidewalk split without warning under his feet and he went pitchingforward into the street. He clutched desperately at the trunk of a tallpalm tree, but with a loud snap, it broke, throwing him head on into aparked road car. The entire front end of the car collapsed like an eggshell under his weight. For a long moment, the entire street was dead quiet. With difficulty, Hall pulled himself to his feet. Pale, astonished faces were staring athim from all sides. Suddenly the farmer started screaming. "That's him. I knew it. That'shim. " He was jumping up and down with excitement. Hall turned his back and walked in the other direction. The people infront of him faded away, leaving a clear path. He had gone a dozen steps when a man with a huge double-barreled shotgunpopped out from a store front just ahead. He aimed for the middle ofHall's chest and fired both barrels. The blast and the shot struck Hall squarely, burning a large hole in hisshirt front. He did not change his pace, but continued step by step. The man with the gun snatched two shells out of his pocket andfrantically tried to reload. Hall reached out and closed his hand overthe barrel of the gun and the blue steel crumpled like wet paper. From across the street, someone was shooting at him with a rifle. Several times a bullet smacked warmly against his head or his back. He continued walking slowly up the street. At its far end several menappeared dragging a small howitzer--probably the only piece in the localarmory. They scurried around it, trying to get it aimed and loaded. "Fools. Stupid fools, " Hall shouted at them. The men could not seem to get the muzzle of the gun down, and when hewas a dozen paces from it they took to their heels. He tore the heavycannon off of its carriage and with one blow of his fist caved it in. Heleft it lying in the street broken and useless. Almost as suddenly as it came, his anger left him. He stopped and lookedback at the people cringing in the doorways. "You poor, cruel fools, " Hall said again. He sat down in the middle of the street on the twisted howitzer barreland buried his head in his hands. There was nothing else for him to do. He knew that in just a matter of seconds, the ships with theirpermallium nets and snares would be on him. * * * * * Since Jordan's ship was not large enough to transport Jon Hall's greatweight back to Grismet, the terrestrial government put at the agent'sdisposal a much heavier vessel, one room of which had been hastily linedwith permallium and outfitted as a prison cell. A pilot by the name ofWilkins went with the ship. He was a battered old veteran, given tocigar smoking, clandestine drinking and card playing. The vessel took off, rose straight through the atmosphere for aboutforty miles, and then hung, idly circling Earth, awaiting clearancebefore launching into the pulse drive. A full course between Earth andGrismet had to be plotted and cleared by the technicians at the dispatchcenter because the mass of the vessel increased so greatly with itspulsating speed that if any two ships passed within a hundred thousandmiles of each other, they would at least be torn from their course, andmight even be totally destroyed. Wilkins had proposed a pinochle game, and he and Jordan sat playing inthe control room. The pilot had been winning and he was elated. "Seventy-six dollars sofar, " he announced after some arithmetic. "The easiest day's pay I madethis month. " Jordan shuffled the cards and dealt them out, three at a time. He wastroubled by his own thoughts, and so preoccupied that he scarcelyfollowed the game. "Spades, again, " the pilot commented gleefully. "Well, ain't that toobad for you. " He gave his cigar a few chomps and played a card. Jordan had been looking out of the window. The ship had tilted and hecould see without rising the rim of Earth forming a beautiful geometricarc, hazy and blue in its shimmering atmosphere. "Come on, play, " the pilot said, impatiently. "I just led an ace. " Jordan put down his cards. "I guess I better quit, " he said. "What the devil!" the pilot said angrily. "You can't quit like that inthe middle of a deal. I got a flush and aces. " "I'm sorry, " Jordan said, "but I'm going to lie down in my cabin untilwe are given clearance. " He opened the door of the little room and went into the hall. He walkeddown past his own cabin and stopped in front of another door, a new onethat was sheathed in permallium. He hesitated a few moments; then hesnapped open the outside latch and walked in, letting the door swingclosed behind him. * * * * * Hall lay unmoving in the middle of the floor, his legs and arms fastenedin greaves of permallium. Jordan was embarrassed. He did not look directly at the robot. "I don't know whether you want to talk to me or not, " he started. "Ifyou don't want to, that's all right. But, I've followed you since youlanded on Earth, and I don't understand why you did what you did. Youdon't have to tell me, but I wish you would. It would make me feelbetter. " The robot shrugged--a very human gesture, Jordan noted. "G-go ahead and ask me, " he said. "It d-doesn't make any differencenow. " Jordan sat down on the floor. "The boy was the one who gave you away. Ifnot for him, no one would have ever known what planet you were on. Whydid you let the kid get away?" The robot looked straight at the agent. "Would you kill a child?" heasked. "No, of course not, " Jordan said a little bit annoyed, "but I'm not arobot either. " He waited for a further explanation, but when he saw nonewas coming, he said: "I don't know what you were trying to do in thatpowerhouse at Ballarat, but, whatever it was, that old man couldn't havestopped you. What happened?" "I l-lost my head, " the robot said quietly. "The alarm and the lightsrattled me, and I got into a p-panic. " "I see, " said Jordan, frustrated, not really seeing at all. He sat backand thought for a moment. "Let me put it this way. Why do you stutter?" Hall smiled a wry smile. "Th-that used to be a m-military secret, " hesaid. "It's our one weakness--the one Achilles heel in a m-machine thatwas meant to be invulnerable. " He struggled to a sitting position. "You see, we were m-made ass-soldiers and had to have a certain loyalty to the country that m-madeus. Only living things are loyal--machines are not. We had to think likehuman beings. " Jordan's brows contracted as he tried to understand the robot. "You mean you have a transplanted human brain?" he asked incredulously. "In a way, " Hall said. "Our b-brains are permallium strips on which themind of some human donor was m-magnetically imprinted. My mind wascopied f-from a man who stuttered and who got panicky when the going gotrough, and who couldn't kill a child no matter what was at s-stake. " Jordan felt physically ill. Hall was human and he was immortal. Andaccording to galactic decree, he, like his fellows, was to be manacledin permallium and fixed in a great block of cement, and that block wasto be dropped into the deep silent depths of the Grismet ocean, to beslowly covered by the blue sediment that gradually filters down throughthe miles of ocean water to stay immobile and blind for countlessmillions of years. Jordan arose to his feet. He could think of nothing further to say. He stopped, however, with the door half open, and asked: "One morequestion--what did you want with the electrical generator plants onEarth?" [Illustration] Slowly and without emotion Hall told him, and when he understood, hebecame even sicker. * * * * * He went across to his cabin and stood for a while looking out thewindow. Then he lit a cigarette and lay down on his bunk thinking. Aftera time, he put out the cigarette and walked into the hall where he pacedup and down. As he passed the cell door for about the tenth time, he suddenly swungaround and lifted the latch and entered. He went over to the robot, andwith a key that he took from his pocket, he unlocked the greaves andchains. "There's no point in keeping you bound up like this, " he said. "I don'tthink you're very dangerous. " He put the key back in his pocket. "I suppose you know that this ship runs on an atomic pile, " he said in aconversational tone of voice. "The cables are just under the floor inthe control room and they can be reached through a little trap door. " Jordan looked directly into Hall's face. The robot was listening withgreat intentness. "Well, " the agent said, "we'll probably be leaving Earth's atmosphere inabout fifteen minutes. I think I'll go play pinochle with the pilot. " He carefully left the door of the cell unlatched as he left. He walkedto the control room and found Wilkins, a dry cigar butt clenched betweenhis teeth, absorbed in a magazine. "Let's have another game, " Jordan said. "I want some of thatseventy-six dollars back. " Wilkins shook his head. "I'm in the middle of a good story here. Realsexy. I'll play you after we take off. " "Nothing doing, " Jordan said sharply. "Let's play right now. " Wilkins kept reading. "We got an eighteen-hour flight in front of us. You have lots of time. " The agent snatched the magazine out of his hands. "We're going to playright now in my cabin, " he said. "You quit when I have aces and a flush, and now you come back and wantto play again. That's not sportsmanlike, " Wilkins complained, but heallowed himself to be led back to Jordan's cabin. "I never saw anybodyso upset about losing a miserable seventy-six bucks, " was his finalcomment. * * * * * The robot lay perfectly still until he heard the door to Jordan's cabinslam shut, and then he arose as quietly as he could and stole out intothe hall. The steel of the hall floor groaned, but bore his weight, andcarefully, trembling with excitement inside of his ponderous metallicbody, he made his way to the control room. He knelt and lifted thelittle trap door and found the naked power cable, pulsating withelectrical current. In a locker under the panel board he found a length of copper wire. Itwas all he needed for the necessary connection. Since his capture, his fellows on Grismet had been silent with despair, but as he knelt to close the circuit, their minds flooded in on him andhe realized with a tremendous horror that there were now nineteen, thatall except he had been bound and fixed in their eternal cement prisons. "We are going to have our chance, " he told them. "We won't have muchtime, but we will have our chance. " He closed the circuit and a tremendous tide of electric power flowedinto his head. Inside that two-inch shell of permallium was a smallstrip of metal tape on whose electrons and atoms were written theborrowed mind of a man. Connected to the tape was a minute instrumentfor receiving and sending electromagnetic impulses--the chain by whichthe mind of one robot was tied to that of another. The current surged in and the tiny impulses swelled in strength andpoured out through the hull of the ship in a great cone that penetratedEarth's atmosphere in a quadrant that extended from Baffin land toOmaha, and from Hawaii to Labrador. The waves swept through skin andbone and entered the sluggish gelatinous brain of sentient beings, setting up in those organs the same thoughts and pictures that playedamong the electrons of the permallium strip that constituted Jon Hall'smind. All nineteen clamored to be heard, for Hall to relay their voices toEarth, but he held them off and first he told his story. * * * * * The Casseiopeian delegate to the Galactic Senate was at the momentfinishing his breakfast. He was small and furry, not unlike a very largesquirrel, and he sat perched on a high chair eating salted roast almondsof which he was very fond. Suddenly a voice started talking inside of his head, just as it did atthat very second inside the heads of thirteen billion other inhabitantsof the northwest corner of Earth. The Casseiopeian delegate was sostartled that he dropped the dish of almonds, his mouth popping open, his tiny red tongue inside flickering nervously. He listened spellbound. The voice told him of the war on Grismet and of the permalliumconstructed robots, and of the cement blocks. This, however, he alreadyknew, because he had been one of the delegates to the Peace Conferencewho had decided to dispose of the robots. The voice, however, also toldhim things he did not know, such as the inability of the robots tocommit any crime that any other sane human being would not commit, oftheir very simple desire to be allowed to live in peace, and most of allof their utter horror for the fate a civilized galaxy had decreed forthem. When the voice stopped, the Casseiopeian delegate was a greatly shakenlittle being. * * * * * Back on the ship, Hall opened the circuit to the nineteen, and theyspoke in words, in memory pictures and in sensations. * * * * * A copter cab driver was hurrying with his fare from Manhattan to OysterBay. Suddenly, in his mind, he became a permallium robot. He was boundwith cables of the heavy metal, and was suspended upside down in a hugecement block. The stone pressed firmly on his eyes, his ears, and hischest. He was completely immobile, and worst of all, he knew that abovehis head for six miles lay the great Grismet Ocean, with the blue mudslowly settling down encasing the cement in a stony stratum that wouldlast till the planet broke apart. The cab driver gasped: "What the hell. " His throat was so dry he couldscarcely talk. He turned around to his fare, and the passenger, a youngman, was pale and trembling. "You seeing things, too?" the driver asked. "I sure am, " the fare said unsteadily. "What a thing to do. " * * * * * For fifteen minutes, over the northwest quadrant of Earth, the words andthe pictures went out, and thirteen billion people knew suddenly whatlay in the hearts and minds of nineteen robots. * * * * * A housewife in San Rafael was at the moment in a butcher shop buyingmeat for her family. As the thoughts and images started pouring into hermind, she remained stock-still, her package of meat forgotten on thecounter. The butcher, wiping his bloodied hands on his apron froze inthat position, an expression of horror and incredulity on his face. When the thoughts stopped coming in, the butcher was the first to comeout of the trancelike state. "Boy, " he said, "that's sure some way of sending messages. Sure beatsthe teledepths. " The housewife snatched her meat off the counter. "Is that all you thinkof, " she demanded angrily. "That's a terrible thing that those barbarians on Grismet are doing tothose ... Those people. Why didn't they tell us that they were human. "She stalked out of the shop, not certain what she would do, butdetermined to do something. * * * * * In the ship Hall reluctantly broke off the connection and replaced thetrap door. Then he went back to his cell and locked himself in. He hadaccomplished his mission; its results now lay in the opinions of men. * * * * * Jordan left the ship immediately on landing, and took a copter over tothe agency building. His conversation with his superior was something hewanted to get over with as soon as possible. The young woman at the secretary's desk looked at him coldly and led himdirectly into the inner office. The chief was standing up in front ofthe map of the galaxy, his hands in his pockets, his eyes an icy blue. "I've been hearing about you, " he said without a greeting. Jordan sat down. He was tense and jumpy but tried not to show it. "Isuppose you have, " he said, adding, after a moment, "Sir. " "How did that robot manage to break out of his cell and get to the powersource on the ship in the first place?" "He didn't break out, " Jordan said slowly. "I let him out. " "I see, " the chief said, nodding. "You let him out. I see. No doubt youhad your reasons. " "Yes, I did. Look--" Jordan wanted to explain, but he could not find thewords. It would have been different if the robots' messages had reachedGrismet; he would not have had to justify himself then. But they hadnot, and he could not find a way to tell this cold old man of what hehad learned about the robots and their unity with men. "I did it becauseit was the only decent thing to do. " "I see, " the chief said. "You did it because you have a heart. " Heleaned suddenly forward, both hands on his desk. "It's good for a man tohave a heart and be compassionate. He's not worth anything if he isn't. But"--and he shook his finger at Jordan as he spoke--"that man is goingto be compassionate at his own expense, not at the expense of theagency. Do you understand that?" "I certainly do, " Jordan answered, "but you have me wrong if you thinkI'm here to make excuses or to apologize. Now, if you will get on withmy firing, sir, I'll go home and have my supper. " The chief looked at him for a long minute. "Don't you care about yourposition in the agency?" he asked quietly. "Sure I do, " Jordan said almost roughly. "It's the work I wanted to doall my life. But, as you said, what I did, I did at my own expense. Look, sir, I don't like this any better than you do. Why don't you fireme and let me go home? Your prisoner's safely locked up in the ship. " For answer the chief tossed him a stellogram. Jordan glanced at thefirst few words and saw that it was from Galactic Headquarters on Earth. He put it back on the desk without reading it through. "I know that I must have kicked up a fuss. You don't have to spell itout for me. " "Read it, " the chief said impatiently. Jordan took back the stellogram and examined it. It read. To: Captain Lawrence Macrae Detection Agency, Grismet. From: Prantal Aminopterin Delegate from Casseiopeia Chairman, Grismet Peace Committee of the Galactic Senate. Message: You are hereby notified that the committee by a vote of 17-0 has decided to rescind its order of January 18, 2214, directing the disposal of the permallium robots of Grismet. Instead, the committee directs that you remove from their confinement all the robots and put them in some safe place where they will be afforded reasonable and humane treatment. The committee will arrive in Grismet some time during the next month to decide on permanent disposition. Jordan's heart swelled as he read the gram. "It worked, " he said. "Theyhave changed their minds. It won't be so bad being discharged now. " Heput the paper back on the desk and arose to go. The chief smiled and it was like sunlight suddenly flooding over anarctic glacier. "Discharged? Now who's discharging you? I'd sooner dowithout my right arm. " He reached in a desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of old Earth bourbonand two glasses. He carefully poured out a shot into each glass, andhanded one to Jordan. "I like a man with a heart, and if you get away with it, why then youget away with it. And that's just what you've done. " He sat down and started sipping his whisky. Jordan stood uncertainlyabove him, his glass in his hand. "Sit down, son, " the old man said. "Sit down and tell me about youradventures on Earth. " Jordan sat down, put his feet on the desk and took a sizable swallow ofhis whisky. "Well, Larry, " he started, "I got into Earth atmosphere about 2:40o'clock--" THE END Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from _Astounding Science Fiction_ April 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U. S. Copyrighton this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errorshave been corrected without note.