watch now! detail...
the k-factor by harry harrison we're losing a planet, neel. i'm afraid thati can't ... understand it." the bald and wrinkled head wobbled a bit onthe thin neck, and his eyes were moist. abravanel was a very old man. looking at him, neel realizedfor the first time just how old and close to death he was. it was a profoundly shockingthought. "pardon me, sir," neel broke in, "but is itpossible? to lose a planet, i mean. if the readings are done correctly, and the k-factorequations worked to the tenth decimal place, then it's really just a matter of adjustment,making the indicated corrections. after all, societics is an exact science—"
"exact? exact! of course it's not! have itaught you so little that you dare say that to me?" anger animated the old man, drivingthe shadow of death back a step or two. neel hesitated, feeling his hands quiver everso slightly, groping for the right words. societics was his faith, and his teacher,abravanel, its only prophet. this man before him, carefully preserved by the age-retardingdrugs, was unique in the galaxy. a living anachronism, a refugee from the history books.abravanel had singlehandedly worked out the equations, spelled out his science of societics.then he had trained seven generations of students in its fundamentals. hearing the article ofhis faith defamed by its creator produced a negative feedback loop in neel so stronghis hands vibrated in tune with it. it took
a jarring effort to crack out of the cycle. "the laws that control societics, as postulatedby ... you, are as exact as any others in the unified-field theory universe." "no they're not. and, if any man i taughtbelieves that nonsense, i'm retiring tomorrow and dropping dead the day after. my science—andit is really not logical to call it a science—is based on observation, experimentation, controlgroups and corrected observations. and though we have made observations in the millions,we are dealing in units in the billions, and the interactions of these units are multiplesof that. and let us never forget that our units are people who, when they operate asindividuals, do so in a completely different
manner. so you cannot truthfully call my theoriesexact. they fit the facts well enough and produce results in practice, that has beenempirically proven. so far. some day, i am sure, we will run across a culture that doesn'tfit my rules. at that time the rules will have to be revised. we may have that situationnow on himmel. there's trouble cooking there." "they have always had a high activity count,sir," neel put in hopefully. "high yes, but always negative. until now.now it is slightly positive and nothing we can do seems to change it. that's why i'vecalled you in. i want you to run a new basic survey, ignoring the old one still in operation,to re-examine the check points on our graphs. the trouble may lie there."
neel thought before he answered, picking hiswords carefully. "wouldn't that be a little ... unethical, sir? after all hengly, whois operator there now, is a friend of mine. going behind his back, you know." "i know nothing of the sort." abravanel snorted."we are not playing for poker chips, or seeing who can get a paper published first. haveyou forgotten what societics is?" neel answered by rote. "the applied studyof the interaction of individuals in a culture, the interaction of the group generated bythese individuals, the equations derived therefrom, and the application of these equations tocontrol one or more factors of this same culture." "and what is the one factor that we have triedto control in order to make all the other
factors possible of existence?" "war." neel said, in a very small voice. "very good then, there is no doubt what itis we are talking about. you are going to land quietly on himmel, do a survey as quicklyas possible and transmit the data back here. there is no cause to think of it as sneakingbehind hengly's back, but as doing something to help him set the matter right. is thatunderstood?" "yes, sir," neel said firmly this time, straighteninghis back and letting his right hand rest reassuringly on the computer slung from his belt. "excellent. then it is now time to meet yourassistant." abravanel touched a button on
his desk. it was an unexpected development and neelwaited with interest as the door opened. but he turned away abruptly, his eyes slittedand his face white with anger. abravanel introduced them. "neel sidorak, this is—" "costa. i know him. he was in my class forsix months." there wasn't the slightest touch of friendliness in neel's voice now. abravaneleither ignored it or didn't hear it. he went on as if the two cold, distant young men werethe best of friends. "classmates. very good—then there is noneed to make introductions. though it might
be best to make clear your separate areasof control. this is your project neel, and adao costa will be your assistant, followingyour orders and doing whatever he can to help. you know he isn't a graduate societist, buthe has done a lot of field work for us and can help you greatly in that. and, of course,he will be acting as an observer for the un, and making his own reports in this connection." neel's anger was hot and apparent. "so he'sa un observer now. i wonder if he still holds his old job at the same time. i think it onlyfair, sir, that you know. he works for interpol." abravanel's ancient and weary eyes lookedat both men, and he sighed. "wait outside costa," he said, "neel will be with you ina minute."
costa left without a word and abravanel wavedneel back to his chair. "listen to me now," he said, "and stop playing tunes on that infernalbuzzer." neel snapped his hand away from the belt computer, as if it had suddenly grownhot. a hesitant finger reached out to clear the figures he had nervously been settingup, then thought better of it. abravanel sucked life into his ancient pipe and squinted atthe younger man. "listen," he said. "you have led a very shelteredlife here at the university, and that is probably my fault. no, don't look angry, i don't meanabout girls. in that matter undergraduates have been the same for centuries. i'm talkingabout people in groups, individuals, politics, and all the complicated mess that makes uphuman life. this has been your area of study
and the program is carefully planned so youcan study it secondhand. the important thing is to develop the abstract viewpoint, sinceany attempt to prejudge results can only mean disaster. and it has been proved many timesthat a man with a certain interest will make many unwitting errors to shape an observationor experiment in favor of his interest. no, we could have none of that here. "we are following the proper study of mankindand we must do that by keeping personally on the outside, to preserve our perspective.when you understand that, you understand many small things about the university. why wegive only resident student scholarships at a young age, and why the out-of-the-way locationhere in the dolomites. you will also see the
reason why the campus bookstore stocks allof the books published, but never has an adequate supply of newspapers. the agreed policy hasbeen to see that you all mature with the long view. then—hopefully—you will be immuneto short-term political interests after you leave. "this policy has worked well in turning outmen with the correct attitude towards their work. it has also turned out a fair numberof self-centered, egocentric horrors." neel flushed. "do you mean that i—" "no, i don't mean you. if i did, i would sayso. your worst fault—if you can call it a fault, since it is the very thing we havebeen trying to bring about—is that you have
a very provincial attitude towards the universe.now is the time to re-examine some of those ideas. firstly, what do you think the attitudeof the un is towards societics?" there was no easy answer, neel could see trapsready for anything he said. his words were hesitant. "i can't say i've really ever thoughtabout it. i imagine the un would be in favor of it, since we make their job of world governmentthat much easier—" "no such thing," abravanel said, temperingthe sharpness of his words with a smile. "to put it in the simplest language, they hateour guts. they wish i had never formulated societics, and at the same time they are veryglad i did. they are in the position of the man who caught the tiger by the tail. theman enjoys watching the tiger eat all of his
enemies, but as each one is consumed his worrygrows greater. what will happen when the last one is gone? will the tiger then turn andeat him? "well—we are the un's tiger. societics camealong just at the time it was sorely needed. earth had settled a number of planets, andgoverned them. first as outposts, then as colonies. the most advanced planets very quicklyoutgrew the colony stage and flexed their independent muscles. the un had no particulardesire to rule an empire, but at the same time they had to insure earth's safety. iimagine they were considering all sorts of schemes—including outright military control—whenthey came to me. "even in its early, crude form, societicsprovided a stopgap that would give them some
breathing time. they saw to it that my workwas well endowed and aided me—unofficially of course—in setting up the first controlexperiments on different planets. we had results, some very good, and the others not so badthat the local police couldn't get things back under control after a while. i was, ofcourse, happy to perfect my theories in practice. after a hundred years i had all the roughspots evened down and we were in business. the un has never come up with a workable alternativeplan, so they have settled down to the uncomfortable business of holding the tiger's tail. theyworry and spend vast sums of money keeping an eye on our work." "but why?" neel broke in.
"why?" abravanel gave a quick smile. "thankyou for fine character rating. i imagine it is inconceivable to you that i might wantto be emperor of the universe. i could be, you know. the same forces that hold the lidson the planets could just as easily blow them off." neel was speechless at the awful enormityof the thought. abravanel rose from behind his desk with an effort, and shambled overto lay a thin and feather-light arm on the younger man's shoulders. "those are the factsof life my boy. and since we cannot escape them, we must live with them. costa is justa man doing his duty. so try and put up with him. for my sake if not for your own."
"of course," neel agreed quickly. "the wholething takes a bit of getting used to, but i think i can manage. we'll do as good a jobon himmel as it is possible to do. don't worry about me, sir." costa was waiting in the next room, puffingquietly on a long cigarette. they left together, walking down the hall in silence. neel glancedsideways at the wiry, dark-skinned brazilian and wondered what he could say to smooth thingsout. he still had his reservations about costa, but he'd keep them to himself now. abravanelhad ordered peace between them, and what the old man said was the law. it was costa who spoke first. "can you briefme on himmel—what we'll find there, and
be expected to do?" "run the basic survey first, of course," neeltold him. "chances are that that will be enough to straighten things out. since the completionlast year of the refining equations of debir's postulate, all sigma-110 and alpha-142 graphpoints are suspect—" "just stop there please, and run the flagback down the pole." costa interrupted. "i had a six-months survey of societics sevenyears ago, to give me a general idea of the field. i've worked with survey teams sincethen, but i have only the vaguest idea of the application of the information we got.could you cover the ground again—only a bit slower?"
neel controlled his anger successfully andstarted again, in his best classroom manner. "well, i'm sure you realize that a good surveyis half the problem. it must be impartial and exact. if it is accurately done, applicationof the k-factor equations is almost mechanical." "you've lost me again. everyone always talksabout the k-factor, but no one has ever explained just what it is." neel was warming to his topic now. "it's aterm borrowed from nucleonics, and best understood in that context. look, you know how an atomicpile works—essentially just like an atomic bomb. the difference is just a matter of degreeand control. in both of them you have neutrons tearing around, some of them hitting nucleiand starting new neutrons going. these in
turn hit and start others. this goes on fasterand faster and bam, a few milliseconds later you have an atomic bomb. this is what happensif you don't attempt to control the reaction. "however, if you have something like heavywater or graphite that will slow down neutrons and an absorber like cadmium, you can alterthe speed of the reaction. too much damping material will absorb too many neutrons andthe reaction will stop. not enough and the reaction will build up to an explosion. neitherof these extremes is wanted in an atomic pile. what is needed is a happy balance where youare soaking up just as many neutrons as are being generated all the time. this will giveyou a constant temperature inside the reactor. the net neutron reproduction constant is then1. this balance of neutron generation and
absorption is the k-factor of the reactor.ideally 1.0000000. "that's the ideal, though, the impossibleto attain in a dynamic system like a reactor. all you need is a few more neutrons around,giving you a k-factor of 1.00000001 and you are headed for trouble. each extra neutronproduces two and your production rate soars geometrically towards bang. on the other hand,a k-factor of 0.999999999 is just as bad. your reaction is spiraling down in the otherdirection. to control a pile you watch your k-factor and make constant adjustments." "all this i follow," costa said, "but where'sthe connection with societics?" "we'll get to that—just as soon as you realizeand admit that a minute difference of degree
can produce a marked difference of kind. youmight say that a single, impossibly tiny, neutron is the difference between an atombomb and a slowly cooling pile of inert uranium isotopes. does that make sense?" "i'm staggering, but still with you." "good. then try to go along with the analogythat a human society is like an atomic pile. at one extreme you will have a dying, decadentculture—the remains of a highly mechanized society—living off its capital, using upresources it can't replace because of a lost technology. when the last machine breaks andthe final food synthesizer collapses the people will die. this is the cooled down atomic pile.at the other extreme is complete and violent
anarchy. every man thinking only of himself,killing and destroying anything that gets in his way—the atomic explosion. midwaybetween the two is a vital, active, producing society. "this is a generalization—and you must lookat it that way. in reality society is infinitely complex, and the ramifications and possibilitiesare endless. it can do a lot more things than fizzle or go boom. pressure of population,war or persecution patterns can cause waves of immigration. plant and animal species canbe wiped out by momentary needs or fashions. remember the fate of the passenger pigeonand the american bison. "all the pressures, cross-relationships, hungers,needs, hatreds, desires of people are reflected
in their interrelationships. one man standingby himself tells us nothing. but as soon as he says something, passes on information inan altered form, or merely expresses an attitude—he becomes a reference point. he can be marked,measured and entered on a graph. his actions can be grouped with others and the actionof the group measured. man—and his society—then becomes a systems problem that can be fedinto a computer. we've cut the gordian knot of the three-l's and are on our way towardsa solution." "stop!" costa said, raising his hand. "i waswith you as far as the 3l's. what are they? a private code?" "not a code—abbreviation. linear logic language,the pitfall of all the old researchers. all
of them, historians, sociologists, politicalanalysts, anthropologists, were licked before they started. they had to know all about aand b before they could find c. facts to them were always hooked up in a series. whereasin truth they had to be analyzed as a complex circuit complete with elements like positiveand negative feedback, and crossover switching. with the whole thing being stirred up constantlyby continual homeostasis correction. it's little wonder they did do badly." "you can't really say that," adao costa protested."i'll admit that societics has carried the art tremendously far ahead. but there weremany basics that had already been discovered." "if you are postulating a linear progressionfrom the old social sciences—forget it,"
neel said. "there is the same relationshiphere that alchemy holds to physics. the old boys with their frog guts and awful offalknew a bit about things like distilling and smelting. but there was no real order to theirknowledge, and it was all an unconsidered by-product of their single goal, the wholenonsense of transmutation." they passed a lounge, and adao waved neelin after him, dropping into a chair. he rummaged through his pockets for a cigarette, organizinghis thoughts. "i'm still with you," he said. "but how do we work this back to the k-factor?" "simple," neel told him. "once you've gottenrid of the 3l's and their false conclusions. remember that politics in the old days wasall we are angels and they are devils. this
was literally believed. in the history ofmankind there has yet to be a war that wasn't backed by the official clergy on each side.and each declared that god was on their side. which leaves you know who as prime supporterof the enemy. this theory is no more valid than the one that a single man can lead acountry into war, followed by the inference that a well-timed assassination can save thepeace." "that doesn't sound too unreasonable," costasaid. "of course not. all of the old ideas soundgood. they have a simple-minded simplicity that anyone can understand. that doesn't makethem true. kill a war-minded dictator and nothing changes. the violence-orientated society,the factors that produced it, the military
party that represents it—none of these arechanged. the k-factor remains the same." "there's that word again. do i get a definitionyet?" neel smiled. "of course. the k-factor is oneof the many factors that interrelate in a society. abstractly it is no more importantthan the other odd thousand we work with. but in practice it is the only one we tryto alter." "the k-factor is the war factor," adao costasaid. all the humor was gone now. "that's a good enough name for it," neel said,grinding out his half-smoked cigarette. "if a society has a positive k-factor, even aslight one that stays positive, then you are going to have a war. our planetary operatorshave two jobs. first to gather and interpret
data. secondly to keep the k-factor negative." they were both on their feet now, moved bythe same emotion. "and himmel has a positive one that stayspositive," costa said. neel sidorak nodded agreement. "then let's get into the ship andget going," he said. it was a fast trip and a faster landing. theun cruiser cut its engines and dropped like a rock in free fall. night rain washed theports and the computer cut in the maximum permissible blast for the minimum time thatwould reduce their speed to zero at zero altitude. deceleration sat on their chests and squeezedtheir bones to rubber. something crunched heavily under their stern at the exact instantthe drive cut out. costa was unbelted and
out the door while neel was still feelinghis insides shiver back into shape. the unloading had an organized rhythm thatrejected neel. he finally realized he could help best by standing back out of the waywhile the crewmen grav-lifted the heavy cases out through the cargo port, into the blacknessof the rain-lashed woods. adao costa supervised this and seemed to know what he was doing.a signal rating wearing earphones stood to one side of the lock chanting numbers thatsounded like detector fixes. there was apparently enough time to unload everything—but noneto spare. things got close towards the end. neel was suddenly bustled out into the rainand the last two crates were literally thrown out after him. he plowed through the mud tothe edge of the clearing and had just enough
time to cover his face before the take-offblast burst out like a new sun. "sit down and relax," costa told him. "everythingis in the green so far. the ship wasn't spotted on the way down. now all we have to do iswait for transportation." in theory at least, adao costa was neel'sassistant. in practice he took complete charge of moving their equipment and getting it undercover in the capital city of kitezh. men and trucks appeared to help them, and vanishedas soon as their work was done. within twenty hours they were installed in a large loft,all of the machines uncrated and plugged in. neel took a no-sleep and began tuning checkson all the circuits, glad of something to do. costa locked the heavy door behind theirlast silent helper, then dropped gratefully
onto one of the bedding rolls. "how did the gadgets hold up?" he asked. "i'm finding out now. they're built to takepunishment—but being dropped twelve feet into mud soup, then getting baked by rocketsisn't in the original specs." "they crate things well these days," costasaid unworriedly, sucking on a bottle of the famous himmelian beer. "when do you go towork?" "we're working right now," neel told him,pulling a folder of papers out of the file. "before we left i drew up a list of currentmagazines and newspapers i would need. you can start on these. i'll have a sampling programplanned by the time you get back."
costa groaned hollowly and reached for thepapers. once the survey was in operation it went aheadof its own momentum. both men grabbed what food and sleep they could. the computers gulpeddown neel's figures and spat out tape-reels of answers that demanded even more facts.costa and his unseen helpers were kept busy supplying the material. only one thing broke the ordered labors ofthe week. neel blinked twice at costa before his equation-fogged brain assimilated an immediateand personal factor. "you've a bandage on your head," he said."a blood-stained bandage!" "a little trouble in the streets. mobs. andthat's an incredible feat of observation,"
costa marveled. "i had the feeling that ifi came in here stark naked, you wouldn't notice it." "i ... i get involved," neel said. droppingthe papers on a table and kneading the tired furrow between his eyes. "get wrapped up inthe computation. sorry. i tend to forget about people." "don't feel sorry to me," costa said. "you'reright. doing the job. i'm supposed to help you, not pose for the before picture in homehospital ads. anyway—how are we doing? is there going to be a war? certainly seems likeone brewing outside. i've seen two people lynched who were only suspected of being earthies."
"looks don't mean a thing," neel said, openingtwo beers. "remember the analogy of the pile. it boils liquid metal and cooks out energyfrom the infrared right through to hard radiation. yet it keeps on generating power at a nice,steady rate. but your a-bomb at zero minus one second looks as harmless as a fallen log.it's the k-factor that counts, not surface appearance. this planet may look like a dictator'sdream of glory, but as long as we're reading in the negative things are fine." "and how are things? how's our little k-factor?" "coming out soon," neel said, pointing atthe humming computer. "can't tell about it yet. you never can until the computation iscomplete. there's a temptation to try and
guess from the first figures, but they'remeaningless. like trying to predict the winner of a horse race by looking at the starterslined up at the gate." "lots of people think they can." "let them. there are few enough pleasuresin this life without taking away all delusions." behind them the computer thunked and was suddenlystill. "this is it," neel said, and pulled out thetape. he ran it quickly through his fingers, mumbling under his breath. just once he stoppedand set some figures into his hand computer. the result flashed in the window and he staredat it, unmoving. "good? bad? what is it?"
neel raised his head and his eyes were tenyears older. "positive. bad. much worse than it was whenwe left earth." "how much time do we have?" "don't know for certain," neel shrugged. "ican set it up and get an approximation. but there is no definite point on the scale wherewar has to break out. just a going and going until, somewhere along the line—" "i know. gone." costa said, reaching for hisgun. he slid it into his side pocket. "now it's time to stop looking and start doing.what do i do?" "going to kill war marshal lommeord?" neelasked distastefully. "i thought we had settled
that you can't stop a war by assassinatingthe top man." "we also settled that something can be doneto change the k-factor. the gun is for my own protection. while you're radioing resultsback to earth and they're feeling bad about it, i'm going to be doing something. now youtell me what that something is." this was a different man from the relaxedand quietly efficient adao costa of the past week. all of his muscles were hard with therestrained energy of an animal crouching to leap. the gun, ready in his pocket, had asuddenly new significance. neel looked away, reaching around for words. this was all veryalien to him and suddenly a little frightening. it was one thing to work out a k-problem inclass, and discuss the theory of correction.
it was something entirely different to directthe operation. "well?" costa's voice knifed through his thoughts. "you can ... well ... it's possible to changeone of the peak population curves. isolate individuals and groups, then effect statusand location changes—" "you mean get a lot of guys to take jobs inother towns through the commercial agents?" neel nodded. "too slow." costa withered the idea with hisvoice. "fine in the long run, but of absolutely no value in an emergency." he began to paceback and forth. too quickly. it was more of a bubbling-over than a relaxation. "can'tyou isolate some recent key events that can
be reversed?" "it's possible." neel thought about it, quickly."it wouldn't be a final answer, just a delaying action." "that's good enough. tell me what to do." neel flipped through his books of notes, checkingoff the beta-13's. these were the reinforcers, the individuals and groups who were k-factoramplifiers. it was a long list which he cut down quickly by crossing off the low incrementadditions and multiple groups. even while the list was incomplete, neel began to noticea pattern. it was an unlikely one, but it was there. he isolated the motivator and dida frequency check. then sat back and whistled
softly. "we have a powerhouse here," he said, flippingthe paper across the table. "take this organization out of the equations and you might even knockus negative." "society for the protection of the nativeborn," costa read. "doesn't sound like very important. who or what are they?" "proof positive of the law of averages. it'spossible to be dealt a royal flush in a hand of cards, but it isn't very common. it's justas possible for a bunch of simpletons to set up an organization for one purpose, and haveit turn out to be a supercharged, high-frequency k-factor amplifier. that's what's happenedwith this infernal s.p.n.b. a seedy little
social club, dedicated to jingoists with lowi.q.'s. with the war scare they have managed to get hold of a few credits. they have probablybeen telling the same inflated stories for years about the discrimination against nativesof this fair planet, but no one has really cared. now they have a chance to get theirnews releases and faked pix out in quantity. just at a time when the public is ripe fortheir brand of nonsense. putting this bunch out of business will be a good day's work." "won't there be repercussions?" costa asked."if they are this important and throw so much weight around—won't it look suspicious ifthey are suddenly shut up. like an obvious move by the enemy?"
"not at all. that might be true if, for instance,you blew up the headquarters of the war party. it would certainly be taken as an aggressivemove. but no one really knows or cares about this society of the half-baked native born.there might be reaction and interest if attention was drawn to them. but if some accident oract of nature were to put them out of business, that would be the end of it." costa was snapping his lighter on and offas he listened to neel, staring at the flame. he closed it and held it up. "i believe inaccidents. i believe that even in our fireproof age, fires still occur. buildings still burndown. and if a burnt building just happened to be occupied by the s.p.n.b.—just onetenant of many—and their offices and records
were destroyed; that would be of very littleinterest to anyone except the fire brigade." "you're a born criminal," neel told him. "i'mglad we're on the same side. that's your department and i leave it to you. i'll just listen forthe news flashes. meanwhile i have one little errand to take care of." the words stopped costa, who was almost outthe door. he turned stiffly to look at neel putting papers into an envelope. yet costaspoke naturally, letting none of his feelings through into his voice. "where are you going?" "to see hengly, the planetary operator here.abravanel told me to stay away from him, to
run an entirely new basic survey. well we'vedone that now, and pinpointed some of the trouble areas as well. i can stop feelingguilty about poaching another man's territory and let him know what's going on." "no. stay away from hengly," costa said. "thelast thing in the world we want to do, is to be seen near him. there's a chance thathe ... well ... might be compromised." "what do you mean!" neel snapped. "hengly'sa friend of mine, a graduate—" "he might also be surrounded ten deep by thesecret police. did you stop to think about that?" neel hadn't thought about it, and his angervanished when he did. costa drove the point
home. "societics has been a well kept secret forover two centuries. it may still be a secret—or bits of it might have leaked out. and evenif the himmelians know nothing about societics, they have certainly heard of espionage. theyknow the un has agents on their world, they might think hengly is one of them. this isall speculation, of course, but we do have one fact—this society of native boobs weturned up. we had no trouble finding them. if hengly had reliable field men, he shouldknow about them, too. the only reason he hasn't is because he isn't getting the information.which means he's compromised." reaching back for a chair, neel fell heavilyinto it. "you're right ... of course! i never
realized." "good," costa said. "we'll do something tohelp hengly tomorrow, but this operation comes first. sit tight. get some rest. and don'topen the door for anyone except me." it had been a long job—and a tiring one—butit was almost over. neel allowed himself the luxury of a long yawn, then shuffled overto the case of rations they had brought. he stripped the seal from something optimisticallylabeled chicken dinner—it tasted just like the algae it had been made from—and boiledsome coffee while it was heating. and all the time he was doing these prosaictasks his mind was turning an indigestible fact over and over. it wasn't a consciousprocess, but it was nevertheless going on.
the automatic mechanism of his brain ran itback and forth like a half heard tune, searching for its name. neel was tired, or he wouldhave reacted sooner. the idea finally penetrated. one fact he had taken for granted was an obviousimpossibility. the coffee splashed to the floor as he jumpedto his feet. "it's wrong ... it has to be wrong!" he saidaloud, grabbing up the papers. computations and graphs dropped and were trampled intothe spilled coffee. when he finally found the one he wanted his hands were shaking ashe flipped through it. the synopsis of hengly's reports for the past five years. the gradualrise and fall of the k-factor from month to month. there were no sharp breaks in the curveor gaps in the supporting equations.
societics isn't an exact science. but it'sexact enough to know when it is working with incomplete or false information. if henglyhad been kept in the dark about the s.p.n.b., he would also have been misinformed aboutother factors. this kind of alteration of survey would have to show in the equations. it didn't. time was running out and neel had to act.but what to do? he must warn adao costa. and the records here had to be protected. or betteryet destroyed. there was a power in these machines and charts that couldn't be allowedto fall into nationalist hands. but what could be done about it?
in all the welter of equipment and containers,there was one solid, heavy box that he had never opened. it belonged to costa, and theun man had never unlocked it in his presence. neel looked at the heavy clasps on it andfelt defeat. but when he pulled at the lid, wondering what to do next, it fell open. ithadn't been sealed. costa wasn't the kind of man who did things by accident. he hadlooked forward to the time when neel might need what was in this box, and had it ready. inside was just what neel expected. grenades,guns, some smoothly polished devices that held an aura of violence. looking at them,neel had an overwhelming sensation of defeat. his life was dedicated to peace and the furtheringof peace. he hated the violence that seemed
inborn in man, and detested all the hypocriticalrationalizations, such as the ends justifying the means. all of his training and personalinclinations were against it. and he reached down and removed the blunt,black gun. there was one other thing he recognized inthe compact arsenal—a time bomb. there had been lectures on this mechanism in school,since the fact was clearly recognized that a time might come when equipment had to bedestroyed rather than fall into the wrong hands. he had never seen one since, but hehad learned the lesson well. neel pushed the open chest nearer to his instruments and setthe bomb dial for fifteen minutes. he slipped the gun into his pocket, started the fuse,and carefully locked the door when he left.
the bridges were burned. now he had to findadao costa. this entire operation was outside of his experienceand knowledge. he could think of no plan that could possibly make things easier or safer.all he could do was head for the offices of the society for the protection of the nativeborn and hope he could catch adao before he ran into any trouble. two blocks away from the address he heardthe sirens. trying to act as natural as the other pedestrians, he turned to look as thearmored cars and trucks hurtled by. packed with armed police, their sirens and revolvinglights cleared a path through the dark streets. neel kept walking, following the cars now.
the street he wanted to go into was cordonedoff. showing more than a normal interest wouldhave been a giveaway. he let himself be hurried past, with no more than a glance down theblock, with the other pedestrians. cars and men were clustered around a doorway that neelfelt sure was number 265, his destination. something was very wrong. had costa walked into a trap—or trippedan alarm? it didn't really matter which, either way the balloon had gone up. neel walked onslowly, painfully aware of his own inadequacy in dealing with the situation. it was a timefor action—but what action? he hadn't the slightest idea where costa was or how he couldbe of help to him.
halfway down the block there was a dark mouthof an alleyway—unguarded. without stopping to think, neel turned into it. it would bringhim closer to the building. perhaps costa was still trapped in there. he could get in,help him. the back of 265 was quiet, with no hint ofthe activity on the other side of the building. neel had counted carefully and was sure hehad the right one. it was completely dark in the unlit alley, but he found a recesseddoor by touch. the chances were it was locked, but he moved into the alcove and leaned hisweight against it, pulling at the handle, just in case. nothing moved. an inch behind his back the alley filled withlight, washed with it, eye burning and strong.
his eyes snapped shut, but he forced themopen again, blinking against the pain. there were searchlights at each end of the alley,sealing it off. he couldn't get out. in the instant before the fear hit him hesaw the blood spots on the ground. there were three of them, large and glistening redlywet. they extended in a straight line away from him, pointing towards the gaping entranceof a cellar. when the lights went out, neel dived headlongtowards the cracked and filthy pavement. the darkness meant that the police were movingslowly towards him from both ends of the alley, trapping him in between. there was nothingdoubtful about the fate of an armed earthman caught here. he didn't care. neel's fear wasn'tgone—he just had not time to think about
it. his long shot had paid off and there wasstill a chance he could get costa out of the trap he had let him walk into. the lights had burned an after-image intohis retina. before it faded he reached out and felt his fingers slide across the dustyground into a patch of wetness. he scrubbed at it with his sleeve, soaking up the blood,wiping the spot fiercely. with his other hand he pushed together a pile of dust and dirt,spreading it over the stain. as soon as he was sure the stain was covered he slid forward,groping for the second telltale splash. time was his enemy and he had no way to measureit. he could have been lying in the rubble of that alley for an hour—or a second. whatwas to be done, had to be done at once without
a sound. there were silent, deadly men comingtowards him through the darkness. after the second smear was covered there wasa drawn out moment of fear when he couldn't find the third and last. his fingers touchedit finally, much farther on than he had expected. time had certainly run out. yet he forcedhimself to do as good a job here as he had with the other two. only when it was driedand covered did he allow himself to slide forward into the cellar entrance. everything was going too fast. he had timefor a single deep breath before the shriek of a whistle paralyzed him again. footstepsslapped towards him and one of the searchlights burned with light. the footsteps speeded upand the man ran by, close enough for neel
to touch if he had reached out a hand. hisclothing was shapeless and torn, his head and face thick with hair. that was all neelhad time to see before the guns roared and burned the life from the runner. some derelict, sleeping in the alley, whohad paid with his life for being in the wrong spot at the wrong time. but his death hadbought neel a little more time. he turned and looked into the barrel of a gun. shock after shock had destroyed his capacityfor fear. there was nothing left that could move him, even his own death. he looked quietly—dully—atthe muzzle of the gun. with slow determination his mind turned over and he finally realizedthat this time there was nothing to fear.
"it's me, adao," he whispered. "you'll beall right now." "ahh, it is you—" the voice came softlyout of the darkness, the gun barrel wavered and sank. "lift me up so i can get at thisdoor. can't seem to stand too well any more." neel reached down, found costa's shouldersand slowly dragged him to his feet. his eyes were adjusting to the glare above them now,and he could make out the gleam of reflected light on the metal in costa's fingers. theun man's other hand was clutched tightly to his waist. the gun had vanished. the metaldevice wasn't a key, but costa used it like one. it turned in the lock and the door swungopen under their weight. neel half carried, half dragged the other man's dead weight throughit, dropping him to the floor inside. before
he closed the door he reached down and felta great pool of blood outside. there was no time to do a perfect job, thehard footsteps were coming, just a few yards away. his sleeves were sodden with blood ashe blotted, then pushed rubble into the stain. he pulled back inside and the door closedwith only the slightest click. "i don't know how you managed it, but i'mglad you found me," costa said. there was weakness as well as silence in his whisper. "it was only chance i found you," neel saidbitterly. "but criminal stupidity on my part that let you walk into this trap." "don't worry about it, i knew what i was gettinginto. but i still had to go. spring the trap
to see if it was a trap." "you suspected then that hengly was—" neelcouldn't finish the sentence. he knew what he wanted to say, but the idea was too unbearableto put into words. costa had no such compunction. "yes. dear hengly, graduate of the universityand practitioner of societics. a traitor. a warmonger, worse than any of his predecessorsbecause he knew just what to sell and how to sell it. it's never happened before ... butthere was always the chance ... the weight of responsibility was too much ... he gavein—" costa's voice had died away almost to a whisper. then it was suddenly loud again,no louder than normal speaking volume, but sounding like a shout in the secret basement.
"neel!" "it's all right. take it easy—" "nothing is all right—don't you realizethat. i've been sending my reports back, so the un and your societics people will knowhow to straighten this mess out. but hengly can turn this world upside down and mighteven get a shooting-war going before they get here. i'm out of it, but i can tell youwho to contact, people who'll help. hold the k-factor down—" "that wouldn't do any good," neel said quietly."the whole thing is past the patch and polish stage now. besides—i blew the whole worksup. my machines and records, your—"
"you're a fool!" for the first time therewas pain in costa's voice. "no. i was before—but not any more. as longas i thought it was a normal problem i was being outguessed at every turn. you must understandthe ramifications of societics. to a good operator there is no interrelationship thatcannot be uncovered. hengly would be certain to keep his eyes open for another field check.our kind of operation is very easy to spot if you know where—and how—to look. theact of getting information implies contact of some kind, that contact can be detected.he's had our location marked and has been sitting tight, buying time. but our time ranout when you showed them we were ready to fight back. that's why i destroyed our setup,and cut our trail."
"but ... then we're defenseless! what canwe possibly do?" neel knew the answer, but he hesitated toput it into words. it would be final then. he suddenly realized he had forgotten aboutcosta's wound. "i'm sorry ... i forgot about your being hurt.what can i do?" "nothing," costa snapped. "i put a field dressingon, that'll do. answer my question. what is there left? what can be done now?" "i'll have to kill hengly. that will set thingsright until the team gets here." "but what good will that accomplish?" costaasked, trying to see the other man in the darkness of the cellar. "you told me yourselfthat a war couldn't be averted by assassination.
no one individual means that much." "only in a normal situation," neel explained."you must look at the power struggle between planets as a kind of celestial chess game.it has its own rules. when i talked about individuals earlier i was talking about pieceson this chessboard. what i'm proposing now is a little more dramatic. i'm going to winthe chess game in a slightly more unorthodox way. i'm going to shoot the other chess player." there was silence for a long moment, brokenonly by the soft sigh of their breathing. then costa stirred and there was the soundof metal clinking slightly on the floor. "it's really my job," costa said, "but i'mno good for it. you're right, you'll have
to go. but i can help you, plan it so youwill be able to get to hengly. you might even stand a better chance than me, because youare so obviously an amateur. now listen carefully, because we haven't much time." neel didn't argue. he knew what needed doing,but costa could tell him how best to go about it. the instructions were easy to memorize,and he put the weapons away as he was told. "once you're clear of this building, you'llhave to get cleaned up," costa said. "but that's the only thing you should stop for.get to hengly while he is still rattled, catch him off guard as much as possible. then—afteryou finish with him—dig yourself in. stay hidden at least three days before you tryto make any contacts. things should have quieted
down a bit by then." "i don't like leaving you here," neel said. "it's the best way, as well as being the onlyway. i'll be safe enough. i've a nice little puncture in me, but there's enough medicationto see me through." "if i'm going to hole up, i'll hole up here.i'll be back to take care of you." costa didn't answer him. there was nothingmore to say. they shook hands in the darkness and neel crawled away. there was little difficulty in finding thefront door of the building, but neel hesitated before he opened it. costa had been sure neelcould get away without being noticed, but
he didn't feel so sure himself. there certainlywould be plenty of police in the streets, even here. only as he eased the door did heunderstand why costa had been so positive about this. gunfire hammered somewhere behind him; otherguns answered. costa must have had another gun. he had planned it this way and the bestthing neel could do was not to think about it and go ahead with the plan. a car whinedby in the roadway. as soon as it had passed neel slipped out and crossed the empty streetto the nearest monosub entrance. most of the stations had valet machines. it was less than an hour later when he reachedhengly's apartment. washed, shaved—and with
his clothes cleaned—neel felt a little moresure of himself. no one had stopped him or even noticed him. the lobby had been emptyand the automatic elevator left him off at the right floor when he gave it hengly's name.now, facing the featureless door, he had a sharp knife of fear. it was too easy. he reachedout slowly and tried the handle. the door was unlocked. taking a deep breath, he openedit and stepped inside. it was a large room, but unlit. an open doorat the other end had a dim light shining through it. neel started that way and pain burst inhis head, spinning him down, face forward. he never quite lost consciousness, but detailswere vague in his memory. when full awareness returned he realized that the lights wereon in the room. he was lying on his back,
looking up at them. two men stood next tohim, staring down at him from above the perspective columns of their legs. one held a short metalbar that he kept slapping into his open palm. the other man was hengly. "not very friendly for an old classmate,"he said, holding out neel's gun. "now get inside, i want to talk to you." neel rolled over painfully and crawled tohis feet. his head throbbed with pain, but he tried to ignore it. as he stood up hishand brushed his ankle. the tiny gun costa had given him was still in the top of hisshoe. perhaps hengly wasn't being as smart as he should.
"i can take care of him," hengly said to theman with the metal rod. "he's the only one left now, so you can get some sleep. see youearly in the morning though." the man nodded agreement and left. slouched in the chair neel looked forwardto a certain pleasure in killing hengly. costa was dead, and this man was responsible forhis death. it wouldn't even be like killing a friend, hengly was very different from theman he had known. he had put on a lot of weight and affected a thick beard and flowing mustache.there was something jovial and paternal about him—until you looked into his eyes. neelslumped forward, worn out, letting his fingers fall naturally next to the gun in his shoe.hengly couldn't see his hand, the desk was
in the way. all neel had to do was draw andfire. "you can pull out the gun," hengly said witha grim smile, "but don't try to shoot it." he had his own gun now, aimed directly atneel. leaning forward he watched as neel carefully pulled out the tiny weapon and threw it acrossthe room. "that's better," he said, placing his own gun on the desk where he could reachit easily. "now we can talk." "there's nothing i have to say to you, hengly."neel leaned back in the chair, exhausted. "you're a traitor!" hengly hammered the desk in sudden anger andshouted. "don't talk to me of treachery, my little man of peace. creeping up with a gunto kill a friend. is that peaceful? where
are the ethos of humanism now, you were veryfond of them when we were in the university!" neel didn't want to listen to the words, hethought instead of how right costa had been. he was dead, but this was still his operation.it was going according to plan. "walk right in there," costa had said. "hewon't kill you. not at first, at least. he's the loneliest man in the universe, becausehe has given up one world for another that he hasn't gained yet. there will be no onehe can confide in. he'll know you have come to kill him, but he won't be able to resisttalking to you first. particularly if you make it easy for him to defeat you. not tooeasy—he must feel he is outthinking you. you'll have a gun for him to take away, butthat will be too obvious. this small gun will
be hidden as well, and when he finds that,too, he should be taken off his guard. not much, but enough for you to kill him. don'twait. do it at the first opportunity." out of the corner of his eye, neel could seethe radiophone clipped to the front of his jacket. it was slightly tarnished, lookinglike any one of ten thousand in daily use—almost a duplicate of the one hengly wore. a universalsymbol of the age, like the keys and small change in his pockets. only neel's phone was a deadly weapon. productof a research into sudden death that he had never been aware of before. all he had todo was get it near hengly, the mechanism had been armed when he put it on. it had a rangeof two feet. as soon as it was that far from
any part of his body it would be actuated. "can i ask you a question, hengly?" his wordscut loudly through the run of the other man's speech. hengly frowned at the interruption, then noddedpermission. "go ahead," he said. "what would you like to know?" "the obvious. why did you do it? change sidesi mean. give up a positive work, for this ... this negative corruption...." "that's how much you know about it." henglywas shouting now. "positive, negative. war, peace. those are just words, and it took meyears to find it out. what could be more positive
than making something of my life—and ofthis planet at the same time. it's in my power to do it, and i've done it." "power, perhaps that's the key word," neelsaid, suddenly very tired. "we have the stars now but we have carried with us our littlepersonal lusts and emotions. there's nothing wrong with that, i suppose, as long as wekeep them personal. it's when we start inflicting them on others the trouble starts. well, it'sover now. at least this time." with a single, easy motion he unclipped theradiophone and flipped it across the desk towards hengly. "good-by," he said.
the tiny mechanism clattered onto the deskand hengly leaped back, shouting hoarsely. he pulled the gun up and tried to aim at theradiophone and at neel at the same time. it was too late to do either. there was a briefhumming noise from the phone. neel jerked in his chair. it felt as if aslight electric shock had passed through him. he had felt only a microscopic percentageof the radiation. hengly got it all. the actuated field of thedevice had scanned his nervous system, measured and tested it precisely. then adjusted itselfto the exact micro-frequency that carried the messages in his efferent nervous system.once the adjustment had been made, the charged condensers had released their full blastsof energy on that frequency.
the results were horribly dramatic. everyefferent neuron in his system carried the message full power. every muscle in his bodyresponded with a contraction of full intensity. neel closed his eyes, covered them, turnedaway gasping. it couldn't be watched. an epileptic in a seizure can break the bones in a legor arm by simultaneous contraction of opposing muscles. when all the opposed muscles of hengly'sbody did this the results were horrible beyond imagining. when neel recovered a measure of sanity hewas in the street, running. he slowed to a walk, and looked around. it was just dawnand the streets were empty. ahead was the glowing entrance of a monotube and he headedfor it. the danger was over now, as long as
he was careful. pausing on the top step, he breathed the freshair of the new morning. there was a sighing below as an early train pulled into the station.the dawn-lit sky was the color of blood. "blood," he said aloud. then, "do we haveto keep on killing? isn't there another way?" he started guiltily as his voice echoed inthe empty street, but no one had heard him. quickly, two at a time, he ran down the steps.
