The silver sphere bobbed beside the Brain. It
began to glow, and suddenly to expand, and I
felt myself drawn toward it. Then I became
part of it, part of the heat and brightness
and whirling, and I could feel myself melting
away—until I became nothing....
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Planet Stories Summer 1946.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
There are all kinds of men labeled with all sorts and degrees of psychotags. For what it's worth, I have always been primarily motivated by aninsatiable urge for action.
I have always awakened with faculties sharp and eyes clear, ready forany emergency of which there are plenty in these chaotic years ofsocial adjustment from the Twentieth to the Twenty-fifth Century. Thisawakening I knew would exceed in magnitude any I had known. I knew Iwas in a place to which the little alien man had brought me.
I was stretched out on a smooth cold table of metal. I was alsoaware of a contraption of unknown purpose clamped about my skull,and my entire store of bodily faculties seemed vitally prepared forany eventuality, as though steeling itself for a subconsciouslypreconceived super-human effort.
I still hesitated about opening my eyes. It wasn't from physical fearwhich I have learned to convert into mental and physical energy. Therewas a fear of that alienness. Alien was the word for the little manwith the bulbous head and crinkled little face of a premature child.
I knew that his outer dress and hairless, swollen and blue-veinedskull, and the invisible electronic force that had brought us here,were all of some other time, world, dimension, or something of allthree.
It wasn't exceptional on my part to be thinking of such fantasticpossibilities in such a calm and detached a manner. Nothing seemsfantastic anymore to a Twenty-fifth Centurian. Nothing. What we havenot actually seen practiced through the marvels of chemistry andelectronics, we have been trained to believe possible. We have twogreat goals facing us around the corner of probability—an Elixir ofLife from some bio-chemical laboratory, and a ship constructed for anultimate landing on a distant star.
But first, we must readjust the various political factions whichprevent integration of human potential.
The last effort is the gigantic one. All other sciences have advancedbeyond the science of society which is still infantile, but learning towalk more or less alone. The goal of global social integration is insight, but the battle will still be long and difficult. This all leadsto the body of this story—to the World-City of Mohln, to which theScientist, Draken, brought me for the fulfillment of a grandiose andnecessary, but horribly destructive destiny.
When the Fascisti wormed their way underground after their crushingdefeat by the forces of World Democracy, after the close of thatepisode of evolutionary birth pangs called World War II, they createda small, evil and powerful recalcitrant force of reaction, seeking toregain minority control over the Earth Mass. Their threat is theirsecrecy. They never work openly; they are too small in number; buttheir acts of sabotage and political intrigue is disheartening attimes, and a constant threat to our Administrative balance.
As elected Commander of the International Secret Police, my sole dutyis to combat the specially trained cult of sabateurs of our democraticWorld-State, the Black Spartans.
Somehow that night—I've never been able to find the leak—two of themgained the top of my apartment building and were hiding on the rooflanding as I stepped out to enter my je