"At last they know--how to transfer the mind from body to body. Now, do
you understand?" Quickly Vasper slipped on his headgear. Bob imitated
his action mechanically. They were not a moment too soon, for a figure
passed across the screen, bearing an apparatus resembling a miniature
camera. It vanished. Vasper nodded. "Room inspector. He records
everything as he goes across the screen." And now Jim returned. Vasper
suggested going outside. Bob remained in the room. He wanted to think.
Vasper had taken a real chance to get this information to him. Now he
understood why Jim was removed to the stadium barracks. Taval's rulers
had stumbled upon something, more important probably than all other
findings. Brain transference! Old men gaining immortality! Young men
doomed, to premature senility, then death! And Jim among them. Bob felt
sick now.
There must be a way out. Bob felt his debt to Vasper, for undoubtedly
the latter knew more than he had revealed. Now a chance remark of
Forg's made recently bobbed up in Bob Winslow's mind. "We won't have
to worry about leaving our work undone." That was what Forg had said.
It tied in with another comment by one of the advance group, who
vouchsafed the information to Bob that there would be few additions to
their division.
Jim returned at that moment. He started talking about organizing two
baseball nines. "Calling 'em the Yanks and Cubs," he laughed. "Say
Vasper--where you going?"
Vasper had been listening intently, obviously to a message over his
headphone. He whirled, raced toward the screen and vanished. "Can you
tie that," Jim exclaimed. "He's a funny duck. But a good scout, Bob. I
mean, like us. He--"
Two men materialized on the screen. They stepped into the room.
Addressing Jim, one, a swarthy, wide-shouldered man spoke. "You are to
come with us."
"Me? I'm suppose to be on leave."
"I had permission for him to join me," Bob put in.
The swarthy one looked at Bob. "I have orders," he said slowly.
Jim swore, looked thoughtful, then shrugged his shoulders. "In this
place, they don't fool with you," he mused. "Okay. See you later, Bob."
Panic gripped Bob. Vasper hadn't skipped out because of his own orders.
Somebody had tipped him off. "Wait a minute," he addressed the men.
"Maybe I can straighten this out. Fator--"
"We are under Fator's orders."
Jim looked pale. "Keep a stiff upper lip, Bob. I know more than you
thought. See you later--if you won't recognize me--"
For quite a while Bob Winslow paced the room like a caged animal. Jim
did know something. Maybe Vasper had told him, too. Maybe a lot of
young men in Taval were whispering the dread news around, helpless yet,
hoping for some sort of break to check this menace. It was some time
later when Vasper entered the room, caught Bob's eyes with a motion
for silence, beckoning him at the same time. Curious, Bob came to him.
Vasper held out his hand, pointing to the screen.
They entered a small room, not well lighted. It had no occupants. That
is, not till Vasper removed his headgear, as did Bob. The room had a
false front, painted to resemble walls and furnishings. Two young men
were in the semi darkness behind the false wall.
"Godi and Lelan," Vasper whispered. "They have arranged this room, once
a guard room and forgotten. They have knowledge."
"About what? Why they came for Jim?"
"Yes," said the one known as Godi. "Lelan and I are sons of men near
The Three. We know Fator has learned brain transference and plans to
experiment, first with Forg, of your own group."
"When?"
"Within the hour. That is why he sent for Jim Kenley."
Bob looked at the three, all sober faced, rebellious. "You like Jim,"
he suggested.
"He is--swell," Godi put in. "That is his word for things he likes.
Fator has no right to take any of our bodies, for housing brains of old
men."
"But we are helpless," Lelan sighed. "Godi and I, like others born of
Taval families, are safe. But the Jim Kenleys brought out of time--they
must suffer. It is not right. When I am old I am ready to die."
Vasper nodded. "I do not want to go back, and take men of my age, for
such purposes. It's murder, no less. We do not believe in murder, here
in Taval."
Fator! He had appeared so benevolent. He was a brilliant man. Bob could
understand in a way. Fator was ambitious for his period of stewardship,
to reach all the goals he had set. And he could live himself, through
his brain, till he had gained those objectives. And Forg! Jim's body
and Forg's brain, toiling at his own side in the years to come. Bob
shuddered. But what to do? If the experiment was so nearly at hand--
Yes, there was a chance. It came to Bob in a wave of inspiration. It
was a chance that had about as long odds as his own at returning to
1940. The single, time-space transfer machine! If it could be called
a machine. Vasper should know of it. He had made so many trips. Now he
met his Taval friend's troubled eyes. "The machine," he whispered.
Vasper looked scared. "No. One dies attempting to even touch it, except
at Fator's orders. It is a sacred trust of a hundred men. To try and
reach it means you would be exploded, into sheer gas."
"But if Fator gave an order," Bob went on, "what then?"
Vasper shrugged his shoulders. "Obedience, of course. But Fator will
not give such an order."
Godi plucked Bob's arm. "I think I understand," he spoke quietly. "If
such an order was given. In Fator's place, I mean. Then one would die,
but perhaps you could gain the machine."
"True, Godi. But the only little item lacking, is how to give that
order, and then keep Fator from canceling it."
"I think I could attend to that," Lelan put in. "My duties are in the
rooms of The Three. I know that the other two are sick old men, and
Fator alone directs us. I know his directing room, from where all
his orders originate. In fact, I go in and out at will, because I am
responsible for all equipment."
Bob looked at Vasper. "Where would this experiment be held--Forg's, and
Jim--"
"I do not know, unless it be in Fator's rooms. Again, it might be
somewhere else. Fator has a secret workroom."
Bob sank to a stool, mind going over the picture. Presently he looked
up at Lelan. "If we left here at precisely the same moment, you to the
directing room, Vasper and I to where I could be near the time-space
transfer machine, I'm willing to, well, make a try and get in the
machine. But Vasper, or someone must tell me what to do."
"That is impossible," Vasper told him. "However I can operate
everything. Winslow, I wish to go with you and Jim. Back to your 1940."
"But they'd come and get us--I mean you in particular."
Vasper smiled. "There is one way, my friend, they cannot reach us. We
keep the machine. But before that, we take Fator along, to drop into
another time. Then there will be no brains transferred, and there will
be no new machine, for many, many years. I know. This one took fifty
years of construction."
"We might fail," Bob muttered. He looked at Godi and Lelan. Godi spoke
up. "I have heard whispers of Fator's secret workroom. Maybe I can find
it, if you fail otherwise. I leave now." He turned, pressed Lelan's
hand. "We do this for Jim Kenley, one--one swell sportsman," he said,
then hurried around the false wall.
They stood there for minutes, the remaining three, whispering final
details, Bob felt alternate hot and cold chills now, as he realized
his own end, should they fail. Or Lelan fail. Lelan assured them he
would not fail. "You shall have the orders before the count of ten," he
swore. "The guard will fall back and admit you."
They walked around the false wall, toward the screen. Then the trio
stiffened. A room inspector, his tiny apparatus turned their way, was
visible. Now he entered boldly. "What's this," he demanded. "This
place--you three--unauthorized here!" He pressed the side of his
apparatus and a pale light flickered. Vasper and Lelan leaped together,
struck the room inspector, all three crashing to the floor. Vasper got
up first. He snatched a plastic chair, brought it down on the man's
head. Lelan was jumping up and down. "The alarm's given. We've got
seconds, at the most. Now--now--we've got a chance--"
Lelan went through the screen first. Then Vasper grasped Bob's hand.
"Just go with me," he cried. "Don't think where you're headed." They
came into a large, domed structure, and Bob saw it--the golden hued,
snubnosed machine, looking more like a submarine than anything else.
Guards were tumbling out of screens. They bore slender, black wands.
But already Bob knew those wands could blast any known substance, at
almost any distance. The men formed a circle about the machine, and
wands were leveled at the pair. "If Lelan fails--we're gone," Vasper
cried. "They have orders to kill--anyone. Unless the word comes."
They were a hundred feet from the machine, before the largest screen.
It was hopeless to rush the men. For even if Vasper could get inside
the machine, they would be gas instead of humans before sprinting
twenty feet. It was tempting to wheel and dash back through the screen.
And yet the alarm surely was out now, and it wouldn't take long to
identify the guilty. Then it was that Vasper cried out. "Look. They've
made no move. They have the order from Lelan."
Not a guard moved, true, but the wands were still leveled. And now
Vasper strode forward. Bob's knees felt weak, but he followed. Panic
was upon him, so much that he felt an almost overwhelming urge to dash
for the machine. As for Vasper, he spoke no word. It was evident the
guards were dumbfounded, still suspicious, but powerless for the moment
to halt them. And Vasper reached up, moved a hand and a door slid open.
The pair entered.
Already the men outside were in motion. As one a half hundred rushed
toward the door. But Vasper had it closed. "Lelan's in trouble," he
called, running forward to a turret. "Hang on. We're going to Fator's
quarters--to his entrance hall."
The domed ceiling melted. In one continuous motion they seemed to blend
into another building, beneath another dome, more brightly lighted.
There were men, guards, but Vasper groaned. "Fator is not here," he
shouted.
Bob was conscious of a voice sounding in his earphone. It
was high pitched, insistent. "Tell Vasper--my legs are gone.
Fator--Stadium--underneath--" Lelan's voice died in a great sigh. Bob
pictured the onrush of guards, blasting their friend's body bit by bit
into gas. Bob shouted the words to Vasper, who nodded. They made the
arena field first, and there was Godi, racing toward them and pointing
toward the tower overlooking the stadium entrance. Then Godi reached
the tower, pointed downward.
Even as Godi pointed vigorously into the earth, he seemed to swell, to
grow abruptly, into a white cloud that became mist. Guards were coming
across the field. Vasper circled the machine above the dissolving mist.
Then, with an air of decision, he pointed the machine earthward.
This was no sudden transition by means of fourth-dimensional powers.
The machine struck, and they became the center of an exploding mass of
soil and masonry. And as quickly, they dived into a great, underground
chamber.
There, visible to the invaders, was Fator. There were two beds, side by
side. One held Jim Kenley, bared to the waist. Forg was stretched upon
the other. Fator had his hands upraised, and Vasper got down, ran to
the exit and waved his hand. "You take Fator. I'll take care of Jim,"
he called. Bob was outside as quickly. He realized the chance they must
take now. Let the screens pour in a horde of guards and the machine's
security for them would vanish. Fator was fumbling for a wand. It had
fallen to the floor. Now Fator was bent over, hand outstretched. Bob
made a dive. He struck the director of Taval, sent him beyond reach.
Vasper was racing toward the machine with Jim's body. Forg made feeble
efforts to raise as Bob, the death wand in his possession, grabbed
Fator's arm. "Get up," he snarled. "You kill no buddy of mine, for his
body. Get up, or I'll blow you out of Taval."
Fator wasn't calm now. He looked wolfish, screaming curses, clawing for
the wand. He resisted, and Bob started dragging him. And now men did
pour forth from screens, wands before them. "Blast him," Fator shouted.
"Quick--"
Bob yanked Fator around, holding him as a screen. He held the wand
before him. "Okay," he said. "Let's start."
It was a bluff. Vasper shouted encouragement. But Fator fought, and
almost pulled away, while guards circled at a safe distance, hesitating
to attack. They followed, till Bob was below the machine entrance. It
was a three-foot climb, and Fator himself laughed. "When he turns to
push me in, use the ray," he ordered.
Bob stood there. He was stymied. He heard Vasper talking. He must be
talking to Jim. Then Bob felt a hand. "Jim's coming around," he said.
"Hold tight when we pull." Hands slid under both shoulders. Fator let
out a scream of sheer terror now, and both Jim and Vasper tugged.
Guards ran toward them. Vasper calmly snatched Bob's wand. He made a
quick flip and the room became a cloud of white mist. Then, as he and
Jim pulled Bob and Fator inside, Vasper closed the door and jumped
for the control turret. Fator was still struggling, but Bob and Jim
held to him, as Vasper directed. Up through the earth they roared and
the stadium field was in bold relief, for one brief moment. It was
Bob's last glimpse of Taval. For the roaring increased, and the ports
admitted a nightmare of flashing, ever-changing lights, coupled with
deepest darkness. Then the roaring stopped. The lights slowed. Motion
ceased; Vasper climbed down, stared at Fator thoughtfully. "Your brain
can hunt a body--in the Sixth Century," he said.
Bob saw green fields, the ocean in the distance, blue and dotted with
sails. They were atop a hill, and vineyards stretched downward, to
a city at the water's edge. Fator stared, then nodded. "I was too
ambitious," he sighed. "Too ambitious." He stepped down, without
a backward look. Vasper closed the door, and when he reached the
controls, the roaring, and the succession of shifting colored lights,
like tinted lightning, recommenced. Bob had no idea how long it took
them. Jim, looking pale, suddenly woke up fully. "Gosh," he shouted. "I
wish we could go back, for a while," he called.
"Why?" Bob wanted to know.
"Why--right away my Yanks and Cubs were to tangle for a five-game
series, and Lelan's to pitch for the Cubs."
Bob looked at Vasper, who smiled sadly, shook his head. Bob didn't
explain what had happened to Lelan, who had given his life for this
friend from the Twentieth Century. Then the machine jolted to earth.
It was night outside. Vasper opened the door, extended his hand. "That
glow is your home city," he said. "You have been away exactly sixty-one
days, my friends. Perhaps you can explain that both were taken to
hospitals out of the city during the excitement, after the great storm,
and your identities were lost, due to great stress."
Bob nodded. "Yes, that can be explained. We'll arrange that, Vasper.
But now, the problem is--well, you. Come and live with us. We'll make
it up, for all this."
But Vasper shook his head. "No. I would be difficult to explain,
perhaps. Or at least, my conveyance, eh?" He smiled.
"But you can't go back to Taval," Jim protested. "You've broken a half
dozen laws, and swiped their precious machine."
"True. I doubt I could ever return," Vasper affirmed. He sighed. "I've
been something I regret now. Very much. But life has its compensations,
Bob and Jim. Perhaps I would have kept right on, kidnaping, as you
say, to bolster up our civilization. But Fator's discovery--that made
the difference. It is possible there might be a revolt in Taval. I can
discover that, by visiting a later time than the year 3300. Meanwhile,"
he added, "there are some many periods of our history I want to
investigate. From the beginning. Think of that. The stone age. The ice
ages. When the world was young. I can go when and where I please, right
on down the ages. What a story I could dictate, when I grow old."
"You make me want to join you," Bob muttered. But he already felt a
curiosity about Kerla Research, and the rebuilding. He could think of
a particular restaurant, and of shows, and people he wanted to talk
with again. Jim put it into words. "Boy-oh-boy. Shows. Who won the
Belmont. And they're thinking of the Series--and football. And all the
gang--they'll want to know where I recovered, huh. And my folks--"
Jim's voice broke. As for Vasper, he put an arm about Jim's shoulder.
Then he came over, pressed Bob's hand. "Maybe," he smiled, "I might
visit you, some time, and take you for--well a sort of leave. If you
care."
"Care! I'll make it my vacation this same time next year. For a month.
We'll go back--and forward too. And Jim--"
"You're wrong there," Jim said flatly. "I'll entertain Vasper here,
in good old 1940, or 45. But I'm not leaving this place, unless," he
added, "I can run up ahead six months some time, and get the series and
Bowl game results. You know, just for luck."
And that was that. Vasper reentered the golden tinted machine. They
could see him, silver headgear gleaming, through the turret plastic
hood. He waved a hand. Then a roar, and the machine was gone.
Below, lights of a row of cars marked a highway. Bob and Jim, both
silent, trudged down the hill, toward the highway. Once more they must
live where time and space counted very much indeed.