_In space, a vengeful fleet waited. .. . Then the furred strangers arrived with a plan to save Earth's children. But the General wasn't sure if he could trust an_ ALIEN OFFER By AL SEVCIK ILLUSTRATOR LLEWELLYN "You are General James Rothwell?" Rothwell sighed. "Yes, Commander Aku. We have met several times. " "Ah, yes. I recognize your insignia. Humans are so alike. " The alienstrode importantly across the office, the resilient pads of his broadfeet making little plopping sounds on the rug, and seated himselfabruptly in the visitor's chair beside Rothwell's desk. He gave a sharpcry, and another alien, shorter, but sporting similar, golden fur, stepped into the office and closed the door. Both wore simple, brownuniforms, without ornamentation. "I am here, " Aku said, "to tell you something. " He stared impassively atRothwell for a minute, his fur-covered, almost human face completelyexpressionless, then his gaze shifted to the window, to the hot runwaysof New York International Airport and to the immense gray spaceshipthat, even from the center of the field, loomed above the hangars andpassenger buildings. For an instant, a quick, unguessable emotionclouded the wide black eyes and tightened the thin lips, then it wasgone. Rothwell waited. "General, Earth's children must all be aboard my ships within one week. We will start to load on the sixth day, next Thursday. " He stood. [Illustration: The aliens supervised the loading as anguished parentslooked on. ] Rothwell locked eyes with the alien, and leaned forward, grinding hisknuckles into the desk top. "You know that's impossible. We can't select100, 000 children from every country and assemble them in only six days. " "You will do it. " The alien turned to leave. "Commander Aku! Let me remind you . .. " Aku spun around, eyes flashing. "General Rothwell! Let _me_ remind youthat two weeks ago I didn't even know Earth existed, and sinceaccidentally happening across your sun system and learning of yourtrouble I have had my entire trading fleet of a hundred ships in orbitabout this planet while all your multitudinous political subdivisionshave filled the air with talk and wrangle. "I am sorry for Earth, but my allegiance is to my fleet and I cannotremain longer than seven more days and risk being caught up in yourdestruction. Now, either you accept my offer to evacuate as many humansas my ships will carry, or you don't. " He paused. "You are the planet'sevacuation coordinator; you will give me an answer. " * * * * * Rothwell's arms sagged, he sunk back down into his chair, all pretensegone. Slowly he swung around to face the window and the gray ship, standing like a Gargantuan sundial counting the last days of Earth. Healmost whispered. "We are choosing the children. They will be ready insix days. " He heard the door open and close. He was alone. Five years ago, he thought, we cracked the secret of faster-than-lighttravel, and since then we've built about three dozen exploration shipsand sent them out among the stars to see what they could see. He stared blankly at the palms of his hand. I wonder what it was weexpected to find? We found that the galaxy was big, that there were a lot of stars, not somany planets, and practically no other life--at least no intelligence tocompare with ours. Then . .. He jabbed a button on his intercom. "Ed Philips here. What is it Jim?" "Doc, are you sure your boys have hypo'd, couched, and hypno'd the _Leo_crew with everything you've got?" The voice on the intercom sighed. "Jim, those guys haven't got a memoryof their own. We know everything about each one of them, from the hurtshe got falling off tricycles to the feel of the first girl he kissed. Those men aren't lying, Jim. " "I never thought they were lying, Doc. " Rothwell paused for a minute andstudied the long yellow hairs that grew sparsely across the back of hishand, thickened to a dense grove at his wrist, and vanished under thesleeve of his uniform. He looked back at the intercom. "Doc, all I knowis that three perfectly normal guys got on board that ship, and when itcame back we found a lot of jammed instruments and three men terrifiedalmost to the point of insanity. " "Jim, if you'd seen . .. " Rothwell interrupted. "I know. Five radioactive planets with the freshscars of cobalt bombs and the remains of civilizations. Then radarscreens erupting crazily with signals from a multi-thousand ship spacefleet; vector computers hurriedly plotting and re-plotting thefast-moving trajectory, submitting each time an unvarying answer for thefleet's destination--our own solar system. " He slapped his hand flatagainst the desk. "The point is, Doc, it's not much to go on, and wedon't dare send another ship to check for fear of attracting attentionto ourselves. If we could only be _sure_. " "Jim, " over the intercom, Philips' voice seemed to waver slightly, "those men honestly saw what they say. I'd stake my life on it. " "All of us are, Doc. " He flipped the off button. Just thirty days now, since the scout ship _Leo's_ discovery and the panicked dash for homewith the warning. Not that the warning was worth much, he reflected, Earth had no space battle fleet. There had never been any reason tobuild one. Then, two weeks ago, Aku's trading fleet had descended from nowhere, having blundered, he said, across Earth's orbit while on a new routebetween two distant star clusters. When told of the impending attack, Aku immediately offered to cancel his trip and evacuate as many humansas his ships could hold, so that humanity would at least survive, somewhere in the galaxy. Earth chose to accept his offer. "Hobson's choice, " Rothwell growled to himself. "No choice at all. "After years of handling hot and cold local wars and crises of everydescription, his military mind had become conditioned to a completedisbelief in fortuitous coincidence, and he gagged at the thought of Aku"just happening by. " Still frowning, he punched a yellow button on hisdesk, and reviewed in his mind the things he wanted to say. * * * * * "Jim! Isn't everything all right?" Chagrined, Rothwell scrambled to his feet, the President had neveranswered so quickly before. He faced the screen on the wall to his rightand saluted, amazed once again at how old the man looked. Sparse whitehair criss-crossed haphazardly over the President's head, his face waslined with deep trenches that not even the most charitable could callwrinkles, and the faded eyes that stared from deep caverns no longerradiated the flaming vitality that had inspired victorious armies in theAfrican war. "Commander Aku was just here, sir. He demands that the children beready for evacuation next Thursday. I told him that it would be damneddifficult. " The face on the screen paled perceptibly. "I hope you didn't anger thecommander!" Rothwell ground his teeth. "I told him we'd deliver the goods onThursday. " Presidential lips tightened. "I don't care for the way you said that, General. " Rothwell straightened. "I apologize, sir. It's just that this wholelousy setup has me worried silly. I don't like Aku making like aguardian angel and us having no choice but to dance to his harp. " Hisfingers clenched. "God knows we need his help, and I guess its wrong toask too many questions, but how come he's only landed one of his ships, and why is it that he and his lieutenant are the only aliens to leavethat ship--the only aliens we've ever even seen? It just doesn't figureout!" There, he thought, I've said it. The President looked at him quietly for a minute, then answered softly, "I know, Jim, but what else can we do?" Rothwell winced at the shake inthe old man's voice. "I don't know, " he said. "But Aku's got us in a hell of a spot. " "Uh, Jim. You haven't said this in public, have you?" Rothwell snorted. "No, _sir_, I don't care for a panic. " "There, there, Jim. " The President smiled weakly. "We can't expect thealiens to act like we do, can we?" He began to adopt the preacher tonehe used so effectively in his campaign speeches. "We must be thankfulfor the chance breeze that wafted Commander Aku to these shores, and forhis help. Maybe the war fleet won't arrive after all and everything willturn out all right. You're doing a fine job, Jim. " The screen wentblank. * * * * * Rothwell felt sick. He felt sorry for the President, but sorrier for theWestern Democratic Union, to be captained by such a feeble thing. Leaning back in his chair, he glared at the empty screen. "You can'tsolve problems by wishing them away. You knew that once. " His mind wandered, and for a minute he thought he could actually feelthe growing pressure of three billion people waiting for the computersof Moscow Central to make their impartial choice from the world'schildren. Trained mathematicians, the best that could be mustered fromevery major country, monitored each phase of the project to insure itsabsolute honesty. One hundred thousand children were to be pickedcompletely at random; brown, yellow, black, white, red; sick or well;genius or moron; every child had an equal chance. This fact, this factalone gave every parent hope, and possibly prevented world-wide rioting. But with the destruction of the planet an almost certainty, thecollective nervous system was just one micron away from explosion. There was nothing else to think about or talk about, and no one tried topretend any different. Rothwell's eyes moved involuntarily to the little spherical tri-photo onhis desk, just an informal shot he'd snapped a few months back of Marthaand her proudest possessions, their rambunctious, priceless off-spring:Jim, Jr. , in his space scouts uniform, and Mary Ellen with that crazyhair-do she was so proud of then, but had already forgotten. "Damn!" he said aloud. "Dammit to hell!" In one quick movement, he spunhis chair around and jabbed at the intercom. "Get the heli!" His voicecrackled. Grabbing his hat, he yanked open the door and strode into the suddenquiet of the small office. He turned right and went out through a sideentrance to a small landing ramp, arriving just as his personal helitouched down. He climbed in. "To the ship. " As he settled back in the hard seat, Rothwell offered a silent thanksthat, instead of asking which ship, Sergeant Johnson promptly lifted andheaded for the gray space vessel that dominated the field. A few hundred yards from the craft he said, "You'd better set her downhere, Sarge, and let me walk in. Our friends might get nervous aboutsomething flying in at them. " He jumped out, squinting against the hot glare off the concrete, andthen, with a slight uneasiness, stepped into the dark shadow thatpointed a thousand feet along the runway, away from the setting sun. Hewalked towards the ship. A few seconds later, his eye caught a small, unexplained flash and hethrew himself flat just as a section of pavement exploded, a dozen feetahead. Cursing, Rothwell picked himself off the ground, brushed the dust offhis uniform, and stood quietly. He didn't have long to wait. A small cubicle jutted out from the ship and lowered itself along amonorail running down to the ground. The side nearest him openedrevealing, as Rothwell expected, Commander Aku and his lieutenant whoboth hurried over to where he was standing, as if to keep him fromcoming forward to meet them--and in so doing coming nearer the ship. Asthe commander trotted rapidly towards him, Rothwell noted that he wasstill buttoning his jacket and that the shirt underneath lookedsuspiciously as if it hadn't been buttoned at all. Funny, he thought, that my presence should cause such a panic. "General, what a pleasure. " The commander's disconcerted look belied hiswords, but even as he spoke he began to regain his composure and assumethe poker face that Rothwell had come to expect. "I do hope, " said Rothwell, "that my visit hasn't inconvenienced you. " Aku and his lieutenant traded swift glances, neither said anything. "Well, " Rothwell began again, "I am here to convey to you the goodwishes of the President of our country and to submit a request from himand from the other governments of the Earth. " Aku straightened. "Though merely the commander of a poor trading fleet, I feel sure I speak for my empire when I wish your President goodhealth. The request?" * * * * * Rothwell spoke evenly, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Commander, when the attack comes we expect that Earth with all its lifewill be annihilated. But your offer to transport a hundred thousandchildren to your own home worlds has prevented despair, and has at leastgiven us hope that if we will not see the future our children will. " Aku nodded slightly, avoiding his eyes. "You take it well. " "But it takes more than hope, Commander. We need some assurance, also, that our children will be all right. " He took an involuntary step nearerthe alien, whose facial muscles never moved, and who turned awayslightly, refusing to meet Rothwell's eyes. "Commander, you and your lieutenant are the only members of your racethat we have ever seen, and then only on official business. We wouldlike very much to meet the others. Why don't you land your ships andgive the crews liberty, so that we can meet them informally and they canget to know us, also? That way it won't seem as if we are giving ourkids over to complete strangers. " Without turning his head, Aku said flatly, "That is impossible. Do youwant reasons?" "No, " Rothwell said quietly. "If you don't want to do something, it'seasy enough to think up reasons. " He ached to reach out and grab thealien neck, to shake some expression into that frozen face. "Look, Commander, surely the friendship of a doomed race can't bring any harmto your crew!" Aku faced him now. "What you ask is impossible. " Ashamed of the desperate note that crept inadvertently into his voice, Rothwell said, "Commander, will you let me, alone, briefly enter yourship, so that I can tell my people what it is like?" Aku and the lieutenant traded a long, silent look, then the lieutenantalmost imperceptibly shrugged his shoulders. Without moving, turnedpartly away from Rothwell, Aku said, simply, "No. " The two started towalk back to the ship. "Commander!" They stopped, but didn't turn. "Commander Aku, if you have any sort of God in your empire, or any sortof honor that your race swears by, please tell me one thing--tell methat our children will be safe, I won't ask you anything else. " The two aliens stood still, facing away from him, towards their ship. Minutes passed. Rothwell stood quietly, looking at their backs, humanappearing, but hiding unguessable thoughts. Neither of them moved, orsaid a word. Finally, he turned and walked away, back towards his heli. He leaned back in the little heli's bucket seat and ran a large handthrough unruly yellow hair that was already flecked with white. Thefirst evening lights of Brooklyn and Queens and, off to the left, Manhattan, moved unseen beneath him as the craft headed towards hishome. Dammit, he thought, is it that Aku just doesn't care what wethink, or that he cares very much what we would think if we knewwhatever it is he's hiding? He banged his fists together in frustration. How the hell can anyoneguess what goes on in an alien mind? His whole damn brain is probablycompletely different! Maybe to him a poker face is friendly. Maybe he'shonestly not hiding anything at all. He looked out as the heli slowlystarted its descent. No evidence, he thought. Not a shred, except asuspicious mind and, he glanced at the dirt on his trousers, and a shellexploding in my face. He slapped his hat back on and whirled to the surprised pilot. "Dammit, I don't make the decisions, I'm just in charge of loading, and if thePresident says it's okay, then it's okay with me!" He stepped out ontothe grass of his yard, and quashed a little shriek of consciencesomewhere in the back of his mind. * * * * * Blinding lights pinned him in mid-stride. A familiar voice sprang out ofthe glare, "Here he is now viewers, General James Rothwell, commander ofthe western armies, and head of the Earth evacuation project. General, International-TV cameras have been waiting secretly in your yard forhours for your return. " As his eyes adjusted, Rothwell distinguished a camera crew, their smallportable instrument, and a young, smooth-talking announcer that he hadseen several times on television. He forced the annoyance out of hiseyes. This, he thought, is all I need. "What the general doesn't know, " the announcer went on, "is that earlierthis evening it was announced by Moscow Central that the computers hadpicked his son as one of the evacuees!" The shock was visible on 150, 000, 000 TV sets. Completely unexpected, thesurprise of the announcement hit Rothwell like a physical blow; his eyeswidened, his chin dropped, and for an instant the world's viewers readin his face the frank emotions of a father, unshielded by militaryveneer. Then years of training took command, and he faced the camera, apparently calm, though churning internally. The odds, he thoughtconfusedly, the odds must be at least ten thousand to one! Then herealized that someone was talking to him, waving a microphone. "Er, I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch . .. " he mumbled at the camera. The announcer laughed amiably. "Certainly can't blame you, this must bea really big night! How does it feel, General, for your son to be one ofthe evacuees?" Something in the back of his mind twisted the question. How does itfeel, General, to turn your only son over to a poker-faced alien whoshoots when you walk near his ship? "I'm not sure, " he said, "how Ifeel. " Talking excitedly, the announcer drew closer. "To think that your namewill live forever in the vast star clusters of the galaxy!" He loweredhis voice. "General, speaking now unofficially, as a parent, to thethousands of other parents whose children may also be selected, and tothe rest of us who . .. " he seemed to stumble for a word, and for aninstant Rothwell saw him, too, as a man worried and afraid, instead ofas part of a television machine. "Well, General, _you've_ had contactwith the aliens, are you glad your son is going?" Rothwell looked at the strained face of the announcer, at the cameracrew quietly eyeing him, and at the small huddled group of neighborshovering in the background, and he knew that his next words might be themost critical he would ever use in his life. In a world strainedemotionally almost beyond endurance, the wrong words, a hint of asuspicion, could spark the riots that would kill millions and bringtotal destruction. He faced the camera and said calmly, "I am glad my son is going. I wishit could happen for everyone. Commander Aku has assured me thateverything will turn out all right. " Mentally he begged for forgiveness, there was nothing else he could say. Sweat glistened on his forehead ashe tried to fight down the memory of Aku turning his back on the pleathat echoed in his brain--"tell me that our children will be safe. " The front door of the house banged open and all at once Martha was inhis arms, crying, laughing. "Oh, Jim, I'm so glad, so very glad!"Rothwell blinked his eyes as he put his arm around her and waved thecamera away. Tears sparkled on his cheeks; but neither Martha nor theviewers knew why. * * * * * The next morning Aku and his ever-present lieutenant were waiting whenRothwell's heli set him down in front of the administration building, afew minutes later than usual. They followed him into his office. "Coffee?" Rothwell held out a paper cup. "No, thank you, " said Aku, as expressionless as ever. "We are here tomake final arrangements for the evacuation. " "I see. Well, " said Rothwell, "Thursday will be a very painful day forus and we will want to expedite things as much as possible. " Aku nodded. Rothwell went on. "I have made arrangements to have a hundred air fieldscleared at various population centers around the world. That way yourships can land simultaneously, one at each field, and the loading can befinished in very little time. Now, " he opened a desk drawer, "here is alist, of . .. " * * * * * Aku held up a fur-covered hand. "That will not be possible. " Rothwell looked down at his desk and closed his eyes briefly. I knew it, he thought, I knew this would happen, sure as hell. He raised his head. "Impossible?" "We will first land twenty ships. These twenty must be fully loaded andback in orbit before the next will land. We will use the first twentyair fields on your list. " Rothwell took a deep breath. "But I thought you wanted to get away assoon as possible! It will take at least an extra day to load accordingto your scheme. " "Will it?" Aku moved to go, his lieutenant reached to open the door. On an impulse, Rothwell stepped forward. "Commander, if you had a sonwould you send him away like this?" Aku stopped, and looked directly at him with even, black eyes; then thegaze moved through and past him, to the window and the ship beyond. Fora minute his expression altered, changing almost to one of pain. Whenhe spoke, it was almost to himself. "My father loved his children morethan . .. " He started as his lieutenant suddenly clapped a hand on hisshoulder. The expression vanished. They left together, without lookingat Rothwell or saying another word. For several minutes Rothwell stared frowning at the closed door. Hewalked thoughtfully back to his desk, and lowered himself slowly intothe chair. He sat for a long time, trying to puzzle through the picture. Finallyhe stood and paced the room. "Suppose, " he said to himself, "justsuppose that not all of those hundred ships up there are really cargoships. Suppose that, say, only twenty are. Then, after those twenty wereloaded . .. " He swung around to look again at the long, slim silhouettepoised high against the main runway. "With ocean vessels, it's thefighting ships that are lean and slender. " Bending over his desk, he nudged an intercom button with his finger. "Doc, how would one go about trying to understand an alien'sreactions?" Philips' voice shot right back. "Well, Jim, the very first thing, you'dhave to be sure they weren't exactly the same as a human's reactions. " Rothwell paused, startled. "It can't be, Doc. Why, if Aku was a humanI'd say . .. " He stiffened, feeling the hair rise at the back of hisneck. The short, curt answers, the refusal to meet his eyes, the frozenexpression clicked into pattern. "Doc . .. I'd say he was being forced todo something he hated like hell to do. " Tensely, he straightened and contemplated the lean, gray spaceship. Thenhe whirled around and slapped every button on the intercom. * * * * * Thursday. The sun pecked fitfully at the low overcast while a sullencrowd watched a squat alien ship descend vertically, to finally settlewith a flaming belch not far from the first. Similar crowds watchedsimilar landings at nineteen other airports around the world, but theloading was to start first in New York. An elevator-like box swung out from the fat belly of the ship and waslowered rapidly to the ground. Two golden-hued aliens, in uniformsresembling Aku's, stepped out and walked about a thousand feet towardsthe crowd. Only children actually being loaded were to go beyond thispoint; parents had to stay at the airport gates. "When do I go, Dad?" "Shortly, son. " Rothwell laid his hand on the lean shoulder. "You're inthe second hundred. " There was a brief, awkward silence. "Martha, you'dbetter take him over to the line. " He held out his hand. "So long, son. " Jim, Jr. , shook his hand gravely, then, without a word, suddenly threwhis hands tight around his younger sister. He took his mother's hand, and they walked slowly over to the sad line that was forming beyond thegate. Rothwell turned to his daughter. "You going over there too, kitten?" Thewords were gruff in his tight throat. She wiped a hand quickly across her cheek. "No, Dad, I guess I'll stayhere with you. " She stood close beside him. Aku, forgotten until now, cleared his throat. "I think the loadingshould start, General. " Raising his hand in a half-salute, Rothwell signaled to a captainstanding near the gate who turned and motioned to a small cordon ofmilitary police. Shortly, a group of fifty of the first youngsters inthe line separated from the others and moved slowly out onto theconcrete ribbon towards the waiting ship. The rest of the linehesitated, then edged reluctantly up to the gate, to take the place ofthe fifty who had left. They waited there, the children of a thousandfamilies, suddenly dead quiet, staring after the fifty that slowly movedaway. They walked quietly, in a tight group, without any antics or horseplaywhich, in itself, gave the event an air of unreality. Approaching theship, they seemed to huddle even closer together, forming a patheticallytiny cluster in the shadow of the towering space cruiser. The title of abook that he had read once, many years before, flashed unexpectedly inRothwell's memory, _The Story of Mankind_. He looked sadly after thefifty, then back at the silent line. Were these frightened kids nowwriting the final period in the last chapter? He shook himself, work tobe done, no time now for daydreams. As the fifty reached the ship and started to enter the elevator, Rothwell turned and beckoned to some technicians standing out of sightjust inside the entrance to the control tower. Three of them ran out andset up what looked like a television set, only with three screens. Oneran back, unreeling a power cable, while a fourth flicked on a bank ofswitches, making feverish, minute adjustments. Rothwell felt the sweatin his hands. "Is it okay, Sergeant?" The back of the sergeant's shirt was wet though the air was cool. "It'sgot to be, sir!" His fingers played across the knobs. "All that metal, the whole thing is critical as . .. Ah!" He jumped back. The screensflashed into life. * * * * * Aku stiffened. His lieutenant gasped audibly, made a jerky movementtowards the screens, then suddenly became aware of three MPs standingbeside him, hands nonchalantly cradling blunt-nosed weapons. All three receivers showed similar scenes, the milling youngsters andthe ship, but from up close, the pictures jerking and swayingerratically as if the cameras were somehow fastened to moving humanbeings. Then the scenes condensed into a cramped, jostling blackness asthe fifty crowded into the elevator and were lifted up the side of theship. Next, were three views of a large room, bare except for what appeared tobe overhead cranes and other mechanical paraphernalia of a military shopor warehouse. For a while the fifty moved about restlessly, then thecameras swung about simultaneously to face a wall that slowly slidapart. Rothwell froze. "Good Lord!" Six murky _things_ moved from the open wall towards the cameras, whichfell back to the opposite side of the room. Each was large, many timesthe size of a man, but somehow indistinct, for the cameras didn't conveyany sense of shape or form. For an instant, one of the screens flashed apicture of a terrified human face, and arms raised protectively as theshadowy things moved in upon the group. A projection snapped out from one, grabbed two of the humans, andhurled them into a corner. Then it motioned a dozen or so others over tothe same spot. With similar harsh, sweeping movements, the group ofhumans was quickly broken up into three roughly equal segments. One ofthe groups seemed to be protecting someone who appeared seriously hurt. A black tentacle lashed out and one of the screens went blank. Thenanother. The third showed a small group pushed stumbling through a narrow door, down a short passageway, and abruptly into blackness. Something thatlooked like bars flashed across the screen, then a dark liquid trickledacross the camera lens, blotting out the view. Eyes blazing, Rothwell whirled on Aku. "Throughout our history, Commander, humans have had one thing in common, our blasted pride! Wewill not turn over our young to slavery, and by hell if we die, we'lldie fighting!" He jerked up his coat sleeve, barked an order into asmall transmitter on his wrist, and, grabbing his daughter, threwhimself flat on the concrete. Hesitating only an instant, Aku, his lieutenant, and the MPs hit theground as both spaceships vanished in a cataclysmic eruption of flameand steel. Raising his head, Rothwell grinned crazily into the exploding debris, imagining nineteen other ships suddenly disintegrating under the rocketguns of nineteen different nations. He saw Earth, like a giantporcupine, flicking thousands of atom tipped missiles into space fromhundreds of submarines and secret bases--the war power of the greatnations, designed for the ruin of each other, united to destroy thealien fleet. He turned to Aku, "Midgets, volunteers with miniature TV cameras . .. " hestopped. The commander and his lieutenant had flung their arms about each otherand were crying like babies. Tentatively, Aku reached towards him. "Those things, the _Eleele_, from another galaxy. " He struggled forwords. "They captured your scout crew and implanted memories ofthousands of ships to create fear and make it easier to take slavesbefore blasting you. " He glanced up at the flashes in the sky. "This wastheir only fleet. " * * * * * Rothwell glared. "You helped them. " Aku nodded miserably. "We had to. They thought you'd trust us because welook almost human. It was a trick that worked before. " Tears streamedacross his face, matting the golden fur. "You see, the radioactiveplanets your men reported, one of them was--home. " THE END Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ January 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.