Faithfully Yours by Lou Tabakao. If it's too impossibly difficult to track down and recapture an escaped criminal, there's a worse thing one might do. July 18, 1949 A.D. The fugitive lay face down in the fetid undergrowth, drawing in spasmodic lungfuls of air through cracked and swollen lips. Long before, his blue work shirt had been ripped to ribbons and his exposed chest showed a spider work of scratches where branches and brambles had sought to restrain him in his frenzied flight. Across his back from shoulder to shoulder ran a deeper cut, around which the caked blood attested to the needle-sharp viciousness of a thorn-bush a mile to the north. With each tortured breath he winced as drops of sweat ran down, following the spider-work network and burning-like acid. Incessantly he rubbed his bruised torso with mud-caked palms to dislodge the gnats and mosquitoes that clung to him, gorging shamelessly. To the east he could see the lights of Fort Mudge, where the railroad cut through on its way to Jacksonville. He had planned to ride the freight into Jacksonville, but by now they were stopping every train and searching along every foot of the railroad right of way. In the distance he heard the eerie keen of a train whistle and visualized the scene as it was flagged down and searched from engine to caboose. Directly before him loomed the foreboding northern boundary of the oakey-finokey swamp. Unconsciously he strained his ears, then shuttered at the night noises that issued from the noisome wilderness. A frenzied threshing, then a splash, then silence. What drama of life and death was being played out in that strange other world of perpetual shadows? In sudden panic he jerked erect and cupped his palm round his ear, far off, muted by distance, but still unmistakable. He heard the baying of bloodhounds. Then this was the end. A sob broke from his throat. What was he, an animal to be hunted down as a sport? Tears of self-pity welled to his eyes as he thought back to a party and a girl and laughed her in cleanliness in the scent of magnolias like a heady wine. But that was so long ago, so long ago, and now— He looked down at his sweating, lacerated body, his blistered calloused palms, the black broken nails, the cheap workshoes with hemp laces, the shapeless gray cotton trousers, now wet to the knees. He pulled back his shoulders and resolutely faced west toward the river, but stopped short in horror as he heard the sudden cacophony of barks, yelps and howls of a pack of bloodhounds that senses the beginning of the end. He turned in panic. They couldn't be over half a mile away. In panic of indecision he turned first east, then west, then facing due south, he hesitated a moment to take one last look at the clear open skies and with a muffled prayer plunged into the brooding depths of the oaky-finoki. June 13, 427th Year Galactic Era The building still hummed and vibrated with the dying echoes of the alarm siren as the biophysicist hurried down the corridor and without breaking stride pushed open the door to the director's office. The director shuffled the papers before him and sighed heavily. His chair creaked protestingly as he shift his bulk and looked up. Well, he got clean away, said the biophysicist. Any fix on the direction? None at all, sir, and he's got at least two hours' start. That takes in a pretty big area of space. Hmm. Well, there's just a bare chance that experimental cruiser is the fastest thing in space and it's equipped with the latest Etherio radar. If we get started right away, we just might—that's just it, interrupted the biophysicist. That's the ship he got away in. The director jumped angrily to his feet. How did that happen? How can I explain it to the board? I'm sorry, sir.  He exhaled loudly and leaned forward. Well, only one thing to do. You know the orders. The biophysicist squirmed uncomfortably. Couldn't we send a squadron of ships out to search and—and what? asked the director sarcastically. You don't think I'd risk a billion credits' worth of equipment on a wild goose chase like that, do you? We could use up a year's appropriation of fuel and manpower and still be unable to adequately search a sector one-tenth that size. If he just sat still, a thousand ships couldn't find him in a thousand years searching at finite speeds. Add to that the fact that the target is moving at ultra-light speed and the odds against locating him is multiplied by a billion. I know, but he can't stay in space. He'll have to land somewhere sometime. True enough, but where and when? Couldn't we alert all the nearby planets? You know better than that. He could be halfway across the galaxy before an aetherogram reached the nearest planet. Suppose we sent scout ships to the nearer planets and asked them to inform their neighbors in the same way. We'd soon have an expanding circle that he couldn't slip through. The director smiled riley. Maybe. But who's going to pay for all this? By the time the circle was a thousand light-years in diameter, there would be ten thousand ships and a million clerks working on recapturing one escaped prisoner. Another thing. I don't know offhand what he's been sentenced for, but I'll wager there are ten thousand planets on which his crime would not be a crime.  And even if by some incredible stroke of fortune one of our agents happened to land on the right planet, in which city would he begin his search? Or suppose our quarry lands only on uninhabited planets? We can't very well alert the whole galaxy in the search for just one man. I know, but—but what interrupted the director? Any other suggestions? N—no. All right. He asked for it. You have the pattern, I presume. Feed it to Fido. Yes, sir, but—well, I just don't— Do you think I like it, asked the director fiercely? In the silence that followed they looked at each other guiltily. There's nothing else we can do, said the director. The orders are explicit. No one escapes from Hades. I know, replied the biophysicist. I'm not blaming you. Only I wish someone else had my job. Well, said the director heavily, you might as well get started. He nodded his head in dismissal. As the biophysicist went out the door, the director looked down once more at the pile of papers before him. He pulled the top sheet closer and rubber-stamped across its face, case closed. Yes, he mused aloud, closed for us, but—he hesitated a moment and then sighing once more signed his name in the space provided. August 6, 430th year, Galactic Era. T. Orman sat morosely at the space bar and alternately wiped his forehead with a soggy handkerchief and sipped at his frosted rainbow. Careful not to disturb the very colored layers of liquid in the tall narrow glass. Every now and then he nervously ran his fingers through his straight black hair which lay damply plastered to his head. His jacket was faded and worn, and above the left pocket was emblazoned the meteor insignia of the spaceman. A dark patch on his back showed where the perspiration had seeped through. He blinked and rubbed the corner of his eye as a drop of perspiration ran down and settled there. A casual look would have classified him as a very average looking pilot, such as could be found at the bar of any spaceport, i.e. if space pilots can ever be classified as average. Spacemen are the last true adventurers in an age where the debilitating culture of a highly mechanized civilization has pushed to the very borders of the galaxy. While most men are fearful and indecisive outside their narrow specialties, the spacemen must at all times be ready to deal with the unexpected and the unusual. The expression, steady as a spaceman's nerves, had a very real origin. A closer look at tea would have revealed the error of a quick classification. He gripped his drink too tightly, and his eyes darted restlessly from side to side as though searching, searching, yet dreading to find the object of their search. His expressive face contorted in a nervous tit each time his eyes swept by the clock hanging behind the bar. He glanced dispiritedly out the window at the perpetually cloudy sky and idly watched a rivulet of water race down the dirty pain. He loosened his collar and futilely mopped at his neck with the soggy handkerchief, then irritably flung it to the floor. Hey, Joe, he yelled to the bartender. What's the matter with the air conditioning? I'm burning up. Take it easy, soothed the bartender consulting a thermometer on the wall behind him. It's 85 in here. That's as low as the law allows. Can't have too much difference in the temperature or all my customers pass out when they go outside. Why don't you go into town? They keep it comfortable under the dome. Don't this planet ever cool off, ask T? The bartender chuckled. I see you don't know much about Thumas. Sometimes it drops to 90 at night, but not too often. You ought to be here sometime when the clouds part for a minute. If you're caught outside, it's third degree burns for sure. He glanced down at the nearly empty glass. How about another rainbow? If you get enough of the menu, you won't notice the heat. You won't notice anything. He laughed up roriously at the horny joke. T looked at him disgustedly and without answering bent to his drink once more. He felt someone jostle his elbow and turned sideways to allow the newcomer access to the bar. After a moment he wiped his forehead on his sleeve. The bartender placed another rainbow before him. Hey, I didn't order that, he cried. The bartender nodded toward the next stool. On him. T turned and saw a barrel-chested red-haired giant holding up a drink in the immemorial bar toast. He raised his own glass gingerly, but his trembling hand caused the layers to mix and he stared ruefully at the resultant clay-looking mess. The redhead laughed. Mix another one, Joe. But T's face got red. I came in here to talk to you anyway, said the giant. You own the Starduster, don't you? Yeah, what about it? Like to get her out of Hawk? Who says she's in Hawk? Look, said the redhead. Let's not kid each other. Everybody around this port knows you blew in from Lemmy T last month and can't raise the money to pay the port charges much less the refueling fee.  He winked conspiringly at T. So the redhead glanced at the bartender who was busy at the other end of the bar. He leaned closer and whispered, I know where the Ellen of Troy is. The Ellen of Troy? Oh, that's right. You wouldn't know about her. Eight months ago she crashed on an uninhabited planet somewhere in this sector. So far they've been unable to find her. He leaned closer. She was carrying four million in Penrex crystals. What's that to me? The redhead looked around briefly to make sure no one was in hearing distance, then whispered softly without moving his lips. I told you, they can't find her, but I know where she is. You know, but how? Look, said the giant frowning. I didn't ask why you're so anxious to leave. Well, I'll clear your ship and we can pick up the crystals for the salvage fee, a million each, and all nice and legal. And we can leave by the end of the week and be back in probably six months. Six months, T stood up. Sorry. The redhead grabbed his arm in a ham-like palm. A million each in six months. What's wrong with that? T jerked out of his grasp. I-I-I just can't do it. I don't know what you're running from, persisted the redhead, but with a million credits you can fight extradition for the rest of your life. This is your big chance, can't you see that? Besides, this planet has some interesting customs. He winked at T. I can introduce you. I can't stay here, interrupted T. You just don't understand. Look, cried the redhead exasperatedly. I'm offering you a full partnership on a two million credit salvage deal, and you want to back out because it'll take six months? On top of that, you're broke and stranded, and your hangar bill gets bigger every day. If you don't take me up on this deal, you'll still be sitting here six months from now wondering how to get your ship out of Hock, if you don't get caught first. What do you say? What have you got to lose? What did he have to lose? T gripped the edge of the bar till his knuckles showed white. No, I-I just can't do it. Why don't you get someone else?  I can see the starduster has class. Fastest thing in the galaxy said T proudly, then earnestly, I'm sorry, you'll just have to find some other ship. Think it over, said the redhead. I'll wait. When you change your mind, look me up. Names Yule Larson. He slapped T heavily on the back and swaggered toward the door. He turned and looked back. Better go along with me. After six months they can auction off your ship and pay for the port charges, you know. The door swung shut behind him. T sat down again and bent his head, nursing his drink. His eyes darted nervously around the room and came to rest on the clock. A shutter ran through him and he lowered his eyes quickly. As he sipped his drink, his eyes returned to the clock continually as though drawn there against their will. As he watched, the minute hand jerked downward and an involuntary gasp escaped his lips. The bartender turned quickly. Anything wrong? No, nothing. As he spoke, the minute hand moved again and T started nervously upsetting his drink. He sat for a moment watching the bartender mop up the spreading liquid, then abruptly got up and tossed a half-credit piece on the bar. He hurried outside, stealing himself to keep from running. He paused just outside the door. Stand still, he told himself. Mustn't run. Mustn't run. No use anyway. If I only knew when, if I just could stop and rest if I had the time. Time. Time. That's what I need. Light gears of time. But when. When. If only I could be sure. He looked up slowly at the murky canopy of clouds. If I only knew when, he looked indecisively up and down the field, then squaring his shoulders resolutely, set out for the administration building. At this hour the office was deserted except for a wispy-haired little man who sat at a desk fussing with some papers. He looked up questioningly as T came in. Is my ship recharged and provisioned? Asked T. Uh, what's the name, please? T. Ormond. I own the Starduster. The clerk pulled a card from a file on the desk and studied it. Ah, yes, the Starduster. I'd like to pay my bill and clear the Starduster for immediate departure. Uh, very good, Mr. Ormond. He consulted the card again. That'll be 1,411 credits, he beamed. We included a case of Rue Kaiser's concentrate, compliments of the management. He handed a circular to T. This is a list of our ports and facilities on other planets. Our accommodations are the finest and we carry a complete line of parts. He smiled professionally. What about my key? asked T, pulling out his wallet. Uh, let's see. Number 37. The clerk started for a numbered board hanging on the wall. He never got there. T whipped a stun gun from inside his jacket and waved it at the clerk's back. It caught him in mid-stride and unbalanced he crashed heavily to the floor. T glanced briefly down as he stepped over the paralyzed form avoiding the accusing eyes and snatched the magnetic key off the hook. He forced himself to walk calmly across the field toward the hangar that housed the Starduster. A uniformed guard stopped him at the hangar door. May I see your clearance, sir? he asked politely. T hesitated for a moment. Oh, I'm just going to get something out of my ship, he said smoothly. The clerk said it was Raj. The clerk said, but he can't. The guard tensed. Mind if I check, sir? Orders, you know. He bent his head slightly as he pressed a knob on his wrist radio. As his eyes turned downward, T swung the stun gun in an arc that ended on the back of the guard's head. As he leaped into the Starduster, he was sorry for a moment that he hadn't had time to recharge the gun and hoped he hadn't struck too hard. October 11th, 433rd year, Galactic Era T stepped out of the hangar and surveyed the twin sons. The pale binaries sat stolidly on the horizon forty degrees apart. Their mingled light washed down dimly on the single continent of the planet, Aurora. He started as a man walked around the corner of the hangar. The man looked at T, searchingly for a moment, then asked, Anything troubling you, T? Why, why no, Mr. Jenner, you just startled me, that's all. Well, how's everything coming? Right on schedule, we'll be ready for the final test by the end of the week. By the way, asked Jenner speculatively, How come you ordered the ship stocked and provisioned for the test? Why, why, I think she should be tested under exactly the same conditions as she'll encounter in actual use. We could have done it a lot cheaper by just using ballast, said Jenner. After this I want to personally see any voucher for over a hundred credits before it's cleared. Yes, sir, but I just didn't want to bother you with the details. An expenditure of over two thousand credits isn't just detail, but let it pass, it's already done. Anyway, on the drawing board she's the fastest thing in the galaxy, he smiled. If she lives up to expectations, she'll make your ship look like an old freighter. We've got four million sunk into her so far, so she'd better check out Raj. He put his hand on T's shoulder. You're not worried about testing her, are you? You've been jumpy lately. Oh, no, nothing like that, Mr. Jenner. I'm just—well, I've been up all night watching them install the gyroscopes. Think I'll get some sleep. He yawned. Jenner cupped his chin in his palm and stood staring after the retreating figure. As T turned and looked back nervously, Jenner entered the hangar office. He spoke softly in the vis-a-phone, and in a moment the screen lit up. Is this the prison administrator, asked Jenner? What can I do for you? My name is Jenner, Consolidated Spacecraft. Yes? Suppose an escaped prisoner from Hades landed on Aurora. No one escapes from Hades' prison. Well, just suppose one did. I never receive information about escapees. But you're the administrator here. My job, as the title implies, is purely administrative. I merely arrange transportation for our annual shipment of prisoners to Hades and see that the records are kept straight. But whom would they contact in the event of an escape? The administrator pursed his lips in impatience. Hades has six billion prisoners at any given time. If one did manage to escape, they couldn't very well alert a million planets. You mean you wouldn't do anything? As I said before, my job is purely administrative, out of my jurisdiction entirely. Each planet has its own police force and handles its internal crime in its own way. What's legal on Aurora might very well be illegal on 10,000 other planets and vice versa. I see. Thank you. Jenner cut the connection slowly. He flicked the switch open again, hesitated, and then closed it. He walked out to where his gyro car was parked and in a few minutes set it down on the roof of T's hotel. T was just entering the lobby as Jenner came in and they went up to his room together. I'll come right to the point, T, he said as soon as the door had closed. I just talked to the local prison administrator for Hades. He looked closely at T. What's that got to do with me, asked T belligerently. Wait until I finish, said Jenner curtly. I hired you to test-hop our new ship because you were the best pilot available. I'm not interested in your past, but most of the company's resources are sunk in that ship. If something goes wrong because the test pilot is disturbed or nervous, the company will be bankrupt. I'm not saying you're an escaped prisoner, but if you were, you'd have nothing to worry about. What do you mean? The administrator told me he has no jurisdiction over escaped prisoners. So you see, if you had escaped, you'd have nothing to fear here. You were out of their jurisdiction. T began to laugh wildly. Out of their jurisdiction? Out of their jurisdiction? So that's the way they put it? Out of their jurisdiction. Stop it, said Jenner sharply. Do you want to tell me now? T drew in a gasping breath and sobered. What would I have to tell you? So I'm the nervous type, so you hired me to test-hop your new ship. So I'll test-hop it. That's all we agreed on. What more do you want? Jenner sighed. Raj, T, if that's the way you want it. But I wish the visophone buzzed, and when T flipped the switch, the worried face of the chief mechanic sprang into focus. Oh, there you are, Mr. Jenner. Glad I caught you before you left. We've run into trouble. Well, out with it, barked Jenner. What is it? The mechanic cleared his throat nervously. We were testing the main gyroscope when it threw a blade. How bad is it, asked Jenner? Pretty bad. I'm afraid it tore up the sub-etherscope unit so bad we'll have to replace it. We can't get any on Aurora, either. We'll have to send to Lennox, and that'll take close to a month. Raj! Knock off until I get there, barked Jenner. He slammed over the switch viciously. Of all the rotten luck. Can't you get some plant here on Aurora to hand-tool one for you, asked T? No, that's just it, replied Jenner. It's a special alloy. The owners of the process wouldn't give us any details on the manufacture. Anyway, even if we knew how, we couldn't duplicate it without their special machine tools. Does that mean... I'm afraid so. The ship won't be ready for a month now. A month? I can't wait a month. You can't wait a month. We've got four million tied up in that ship, and you tell me you can't wait a month? Look, Mr. Jenner, I'll test it without the unit. That's impossible. The ship would vibrate into a billion pieces as soon as it went into subspace. No, we'll just have to wait. I can't wait, cried T. You'll have to get another pilot. Just a minute. You can't walk out on your contract. If it's a matter of credits, T shook his head. That's not it at all. I just can't stay that long. Jenner looked at him angrily. Well, your contract isn't up till the end of the week anyway. We'll see what we can do about a replacement then. After Jenner had left, T sat smoking in the darkness. He placed his elbow on the couch arm and cupped his gin in his palm. Then restlessly he snuffed out his cigarette and rubbed his hands together. They felt moist and clammy. He jerked nervously as a click sounded out in the hall. Only a door opening across the way. He bit the fleshy part of his middle finger and then began to worry his ring with his teeth. He lit another cigarette and dropped it into the disposal almost immediately. He got up and began to pace the room. Six steps forward, turn, six steps back, turn, six steps forward, or was it five this time? The walls seemed to be closing in, constricting.  He tried to swallow and a feeling of nausea came over him. His throat grew tight and he felt as though he were choking.  He rushed to the window and struggled futilely with it, forgetting it was sealed shut in the air-conditioned hotel. He flung himself at the door, wrenching it open and took the escalator three steps at a time falling to his knees at the ground floor. A surface cab was sitting outside just beyond the entrance. He flung himself in, breathing heavily and fumbled to drop a coin in the slot, pulled the control lever all the way over. Twenty minutes later the starduster hovered for a moment over Aurora, then shimmered and vanished as it went into subspace. October 2, 435th year, Galactic Era. The starduster materialized just outside the atmosphere of the planet Elysia and fluttered erratically downward like a wounded bird. A hundred feet from the surface the ship hesitated, shuddered throughout her length, then dropped like a plummet crashing heavily into a grove of trees. For tea there was a long period of blessed darkness, of peace, of non-remembering. Then his mind clawed upward towards consciousness. The fear and uncertainty were with him again, nagging, nibbling, gnawing at his reason. He fought to close his mind and drift back down into the darkness of peace and forgetting, but contrarially the past marched in review before his consciousness. The twin worlds of Thol revolving about each other as he fled down the shallow ravine before the creeping wall of lava, while the ancient mountain grunted and belched and coughed up its insides. The terrible pull of the uncharted black star as it tugged at the feeble starduster. The innervating heat and humidity of perpetually cloudy thymus. Pyramids of gleaming penrex crystals piled high as mountains, and yule larsen towering above the landscape, draining gargantuan rainbows at a single gulp, striding like Paul Bunyan across the land in mile-long strides and kicking over the pyramids of crystals, laughing up roriously at the sport. And Jenner, grinning idiotically, pointing a thick finger at him and repeating over and over, out of their jurisdiction. Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear. Nothing to fear. Noth—stop it. Stop it, cried T. And a brilliant burst of light like a thousand skyrockets seemed to go off in his head. He shrieked like an animal in agony, then fell back sobbing, bathed in perspiration. Something cool touched his forehead, and he pulled away violently.  A blur of shadows and light shimmering indistinctly. Then, suddenly, like the picture on a visophone, the blur's coalesced and formed a clear image, and everything was normal again. The fear still hovering close, but pushed back for the time being. A girl stood before him, smiling rather uncertainly. The sweetness and cleanliness of that smile after his recent ordeal washed over his tortured mind like a cooling astringent, and he smiled gratefully up at her. She put a cool palm on his forehead, and as she started to withdraw it, he clutched it in an emaciated fist, and mumbled indistinctly through cracked, dry lips. She smiled down at him, and smoothed back his damp hair. She pulled up a chair beside the bed, and continued to stroke his hair until his eyes closed in sleep. He awoke ravenous and thirsty, but lay quietly for a time, luxuriating in the feel of the clean, soft sheets. He was in a simply but tastefully decorated room. Three of the walls were made of transparent glass, and the warm golden rays of a Type-G sun bathed the room. Outside he could see rolling meadowland, broken here and there by silven groves. A brilliantly colored bird swooped down and preened itself for a moment, then raised its head and flooded the silence with melody. Faintly from a grove of trees came an answering treble. The songbird cocked its head to the side, listening, then swooped upwards on wings of flashing color.  As tees' ears attuned themselves, he was suddenly aware of chirping's trebles, clear-pitched whistles, and from somewhere in the depths of the grove a deep-pitched garumph, garumph!  He seemed to radiate happiness and contentment. Well, I see the patients finally come around, he said cheerfully. What happened, asked T. Your ship crashed just beyond that grove. T. clutched at him. The ship? How bad is it? I think you were in worse shape than your ship. You must have had it under control almost to the end, though how you stayed conscious with space fever is beyond me. Space fever? So that's it. I remember getting sick and lightheaded and just before I passed out I flipped out of subspace and the automatic finder, of course, took the ship to the nearest planet. I must have landed by reflex action. I sure don't remember anything about it. Well, the man laughed. I have seen better landings, but not when the pilot had a temperature of 105. Anyway, you're safe now. Welcome to Elysia. There it was again. Safe. Safe. T. raised up then fell back weakly. Is anything wrong? Asked the little man alarmed. Nothing. I just—nothing. The man was looking at him questioningly. Elysia! used T. I seem to remember an old myth brought from the original Earth. He waved towards the Sylvan setting outside. The little man smiled. Yes, the old settlers named our planet well. He caught himself. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Dr. Chency. This is my home. T. smiled. Well, at least you'll have to admit I showed good judgment crashing next to a doctor's house. Then more seriously. Thanks, doc. Thanks for everything. My degrees aren't in medicine, replied Dr. Chency. I'm afraid I had little to do with your recovery. My daughter's the one who nursed you. Oh, here she is now. He raised his voice. Where are you, Laura? Since Dr. Chency was using the only chair she sat down on the edge of the bed.  She pouted prettily. He's my patient. Then looking down at T. with a smile. You'll be up and around in no time now. Time! cried T. raising up. What's the date? I've got to know. You've been delirious for two weeks, answered the doctor. Another two weeks of convalescence, and you ought to be as good as new. But two weeks? I can't. Can't leave before then anyway, replied the doctor calmly. I knew you'd want your ship repaired, so I had it hauled to the port. Won't be ready for two more weeks. So you might as well relax. T. bit his lip and clenched his fists to keep from trembling. It was a moment before he could trust himself to speak without a quaver in his voice. Nothing else I can do, I guess. Thanks anyway. And, by the way, there's enough credits in the ship safe to pay for the repairs, I'm sure. I think we should start the patient walking tomorrow. Said Laura, in a mock professional voice. She punched the ends of T's pillow. Now you'd better get some sleep. You're still very weak, you know. The days that followed were like an idol for T. With Laura he wandered through the park like wooded groves. Sat near shaded pools and ate wild berries while she told him stories of the founding of Elysia. They held hands and ran exuberantly across the grassy meadows and waited like children in the clear brooks. A thousand times a word, an endearing term sprang to his lips and each time the fear clamped his tongue in a vice of steel. A thousand times he wanted to touch her, feel the silkiness of her hair, the warmth of her lips, but each time the fear and uncertainty stood between them like twin specters of doom pointing and saying, Fool, why torture yourself? In the daytime when Laura was with him it wasn't so bad, but at night the fear and uncertainty crowded to the fore and blanked out everything else. It was then he prayed for the courage to kill himself and despised the weakness that made him draw back from the thought. If only he could stop thinking, make his mind a blank. But that was death and death was what he feared. How long ago was it when he first realized that hope was an illusion, a false god that smiled and lied and held out vain promises only to prolong the torture? Then one day the word came that his ship was repaired. As though the word were a catalyst, the terrible fear overwhelmed him, drowning out every other thought, and he knew he had to leave. When he had no means of leaving the planet, he could partially close off his dread and wait resignedly. Now that ship was ready, every moment he remained was an agony. He led Laura to their favorite spot by a quiet pool. She looked radiant and smiled to herself as though at a secret. He steeled himself and finally blurted out, Laura, I'm leaving tomorrow. He hesitated and bit his lip. And thanks for everything. Thanks, she choked on the words. I'm sorry, he trailed off lamely. But I thought she looked down. He reached out and gently touched her cheek. Can't you see I want to stay, he pleaded? Then why, why? She was crying now. I just can't, it's no good. He stood up. She reached out and caught his hand. Then take me with you. I've heard you at night pacing in your room. I don't know what it is that drives you on and on, but if space is what you want, let me go with you. I can help you, darling. You'll see, and some day when you grow tired of space we can come back to Elysia. She was babbling now. He pulled roughly away. No, it's no good. I'm—if only I could stay. He brushed her hair softly with his palm, and as she reached out toward him he turned and walked swiftly towards the house, pitying and hating himself by turn, while Laura sat forlornly by the pool looking after him. He began to sweat before he reached the house, and his knees began to tremble so he had to stop for a moment to keep his balance. Determinately he started forward again and continued on past the house to the highway that wound by half a kilometer away. There he held a passing ground car and rode to the spaceport, where a few judiciously distributed credits facilitated his immediate clearance. Before the ship had even left the atmosphere he rammed in the subspace control. May 4th, 437th year, Galactic Era. Tantalus lay far out on a spiral arm well away from the mainstream of traffic that flowed through the galaxy. It was a fair planet, boasting an equitable climate, at least in the tropic zone. But as yet the population was small, consisting mostly of administrative officials who served their allotted time and thankfully returned to their home planets closer to the center of population. T entered the towering building, resulting a wall directory stepped into the anti-grave chute and was whisked high up into the heart of the building. He stepped out before a plain door and as he advanced the center panel fluoresced briefly with the printed legend Galactic Prison Authority, Ari Mefferd, administrator for Tantalus. He hesitated for a moment then squaring his shoulders stepped forward and as he crossed the beam the door swung open before him. The gray-haired man sitting at the desk looked up and smiled politely. He indicated a chair with a nod then bent his head again. After a moment he shoved the paper aside and looked questioningly at T. I want to give myself up, blurted T. I'm the administrator for Hades, said the man calmly. I think you want the local authorities. You don't understand. I escaped from Hades. No one escapes from Hades, replied the administrator. I escaped, insisted T, ten years ago. You can check. I'm tired of running. I want to go back. This is most unusual, said the administrator in a disturbed voice. He looked unbelievably at T. Ten years ago, you say. Yes. Yes. And I'm ready to go back before it's too late.  The administrator shook his head pityingly. It's already too late. I'm sorry. He bent his head guiltily and began to fumble with the papers on his desk. T. started to say something, but the administrator raised his head and said slowly, it was too late the day you left Hades. Nothing I can do. He looked down again. T. turned and slowly walked out the door. The administrator didn't look up. As T. walked aimlessly down the deserted corridor, his footsteps echoed hollily like a dirge. A line from an old poem sprang to his mind. We are the dead, row on row we lie. He was the dead, but still he chased the chimera of hope, yet knowing in his heart it was hopeless. June 11th, 437th year, Galactic Era. The starduster pocked and pitted from innumerable collisions with dust particles sped out and out. The close-packed suns of the central hub lay far behind. Here at the rim of the galaxy the stars lay scattered, separated by vast distances. A gaunt hollow-eyed figure sat in the observation bubble staring half hopefully half despairingly at the unimaginable depths beyond the rim. June 12th, 437th year, Galactic Era. On and on past the thinning stars raced the patient electronic bloodhound. Invisible, irreversible, indestructible, slowly but inexorably accelerating, it flashed by the planet Damocles at multiples of this speed. And sensing the proximity of the prey on which it was homed, spurred it into the intergalactic depths after the receding ship, intent on meshing with and thereby distorting the encephalograph pattern of its target. It was quite mindless, and the final pattern its meshing would create would be something quite strange and not very human. End of Faithfully Yours by Lou Tabacow The Golden Judge This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Hollis Hanover The Golden Judge by Nathaniel Gordon United Nations, New York June 16, 1981 AP In one of the most impressive ceremonies ever held in the United Nations building, the world celebrated today the 25th anniversary of the discovery of the Golden Judge. General Terence P. O'Reilly USA Retired The man responsible for the discovery was the principal guest of honor. Obviously moved by the acclaim from virtually every member nation, General O'Reilly made a brief speech recapturing for a moment the accidental circumstances of 25 years ago that so drastically reduced world tensions. It was stifling hot in Jerusalem in the afternoon of June 16, 1956. And Major General Terence P. O'Reilly United States Army was rather more bored than usual. His Army career had gone well. Two stars already at 45 until the mysterious workings of the Pentagon had given him perhaps the most frustrating posting a soldier could have. He was chairman of the mixed United Nations Armistice Commission trying to keep the uneasy peace between Israel and her Arab neighbors. For months he had presided over unending investigations of border incidents, some petty, some not so petty. He had signed reports reprimanding and recommending and approving but nothing ever came of him and he no longer expected anything ever would. Today's hearing was different and not strictly in his field but because he was an engineer and because both Arabs and Israelis trusted him he had agreed to listen to their opposing arguments on using the waters of the River Jordan. Too many years ago the United States had offered to provide most of the funds for a little TVA on the river benefiting both Israel and Jordan alike. At first both had refused outright to have anything to do with the other. But over the years skillful negotiating by Eric Johnston, the American President's personal envoy, had brought Israel and Jordan closer and closer together until now they agreed on the disposal of 90 percent of the water. But farther than this they would not go. For months, years they balked on the remaining 10 percent and the dams remained only blueprints.  He had heard them over and over he knew them by heart he knew they were evenly balanced with justice on both sides he knew both nations longed for a settlement but he knew neither would back down for reasons of face worst of all he knew that any decision of his was meaningless it was purely advisory and he knew all too well what advisory opinions counted for out here. Yet he tried to look interested as the delegates from Jordan wearily produced an argument that every man in the conference room word for word in a brief low General O'Reilly groaned why don't they toss a coin for it it was not as such a voce as he meant the Arab delegates stared at him I beg your pardon flushing General O'Reilly apologized but the Arab was already talking excitedly to his fellow delegates puzzled O'Reilly heard a confused table of Arabic then sudden silence the Arab delegate had a glint in his eye as he asked for the floor in the name of my country he said proudly we agree the word agree had not been heard in this chamber for many months and General O'Reilly wondered if he had heard a right agree he stared agree to what toss a coin for it as the chairman has proposed the Arab said that is if the Israeli delegation has the courage the sportsmanship to agree he looked tauntingly to his rifles across the room the Israeli leader sprang to his feet indignant I protest Mr. Chairman to this frivolous treatment of a serious matter which will affect the future of the Arab he fell silent aware of the contemptuous smiles on the faces of the Arabs General O'Reilly kept his countenance he said mildly of course if you are not willing to risk the luck of we are afraid of nothing sir the Israeli snapped we are as sporting as anyone else but one of his fellow delegates whispered something to him then the whole Israeli delegation in low voices finally the leader rose again will you permit me to telephone my minister gravely the general recessed the meeting for 30 minutes in his own room he stared at himself in the mirror still dazed my god he breathed he can't be taking it seriously but why not if the arguments were so evenly balanced that not even Solomon could have chosen if they really wanted a settlement if they could never get in without losing face why what better method than to trust it to the fall of a coin still things just didn't happen that way when the 30 minute recess ended the Israeli delegate arose he glared across the room and announced defiantly my government also agrees let the coin decide the conference room broke into clamor but general O'Reilly had long since learned the value of prudence in Jerusalem the chairman agrees he said judicially that in the circumstances this is perhaps an excellent solution perhaps the only solution but this has been to say the least somewhat impulsive let me suggest both sides return to their governments and consider this well then if you are both still willing let us meet here one week from today in this room and the coin will decide he had expected second thoughts and he was not disappointed extremists on both sides of the Jordan screamed with indignation yet oddly most people seem strangely excited even pleased by the sporting proposition they began to lay bets on the outcome and both governments held firm probably the general speculated because they both wanted a solution and there was no other solution in sight also each hated to be the first to back down from a fair bet it became a matter of honor on the weekend general O'Reilly flew to Cairo to meet some friends passing through on a world tour like all tourists they went to the Mouski Cairo's great bazaar and it was there in the street of the goldsmiths that the general got his idea it cost him a chunk of money out of his own pocket but like most Irishmen he was a sporting man himself after all he grinned himself I started the whole business and I might as well do it up in style he had decided that no ordinary coin would do for such an historic occasion so he had a goldsmith make him a heavy solid gold medallion almost twice as big as a twenty dollar gold piece he was not very much pleased with the design he sketched out hastily but on the spur of the moment he could think of nothing better the heads side of the great coin bore a front view of the blind goddess of justice with her scales the tails side had a rear view of the same lady it was rather crudely done but time was short it'll have to do the general chuckled as the plane bore him back to Jerusalem when the appointed day came the United Nations conference room in Jerusalem was jammed with Israeli and Arab officials and with a pack of correspondents who had magically appeared General O'Reilly had decided against asking each side to put its agreement into writing a true gentleman's agreement shouldn't be written he concluded he merely asked the leaders for each side if they agreed to abide by the fall of the coin solemnly both assented courteously the Israelis had allowed the Arabs to call while the coin was still in the air there was silence as general flipped it high up toward the ceiling tails cried the Arab leader the spinning coin glittered falling onto the green bay's table the general looked at it the goddess had her back turned it is tails he announced and the Arab delegation broke into happy shouts and astonishingly that was that the leading Tel Aviv newspaper summed up Israeli feeling when it wrote in an editorial certainly there were many heavy hearts in our country when the coin fell against us but let us show the world that we are true sportsmen we risked and we lost let this be the end of it work began on the dams at last without interference or protest not a word was ever written on paper but it was the only agreement between the two countries that was scrupulously kept both sides it was of course a wonderful story the name of Terence O'Reilly swam suddenly into the headlines and his wife began keeping a scrap book of all the clippings one among them was destined to be more potent in world affairs than all the rest it was a profile of general O'Reilly published in a great American magazine and was notable for two things to begin with it was the author of this profile who first gave the coin the name by which it soon became so famous the golden judge but it also contained a casual seemingly insignificant remark by general O'Reilly when the interviewer had asked how he happened to think of the coin tossing idea the general had grinned why not? he said aren't the Irish the gamblingist people and it was this innocent sentence hardly noticed at the time that started the golden judge on its fantastic career and kept it from being a mere nine day wonder for a Chinese communist diplomat in Baron Switzerland happened to see it and one night at a dinner party he said mockingly this stupid American general in Baron Switzerland is obviously ignorant of the world otherwise he would recognize that no nation on earth loves gambling so much as the Chinese anyone who knows the Orient will tell you this this made good cocktail party talk a thing desperately needed in Baron and eventually reached the ears of an associated press correspondent he filed a paragraph on it for a box story and in the inevitable way a reporter in Jerusalem asked General O'Reilly for his comment well he said I've heard the Chinese are great gamblers indeed although whether more so than the Irish I beg leave to doubt then his eyes twinkled why don't they prove it why don't they toss a coin say for Kamoi and Matsu the dang little places aren't worth a nickel to either side and well they both know it they're of them back down a hair for losing face I say if they think they're the greatest gamblers on earth let them prove it this sped into print causing a worldwide stir and brought General O'Reilly a sizzling reprimand from the Department of the Army he was not repeat not to express opinions about the value of Allied territory he read the reprimand roofily, reminded himself that another great Irish failing was too much talk and said goodbye to any hopes for a third star but this was before the black headlines from Formosa with popping eyes General O'Reilly read that the Chinese nationalist foreign minister had taken up the challenge he offered to toss a coin with the Chinese communists for Kamoi and Matsu I'll be jiggered the general breath they'll fight about everything else I am to feel admit the Irish are bigger gamblers than the Chinese now let's see what the commies say picking was silent for two weeks then in a broadcast from Radio Picking Joe and Lai made his reply he agreed but with conditions he insisted on a neutral commission to supervise the toss half communist members, half non-communist world observers weary of neutral commissions that never achieved anything interpreted this as a delaying tactic and agreed the whole thing would fall through this is further proof the nationalist foreign minister commented with the icy scorn that the communists are no longer real Chinese for any Chinese worthy of the name would not be afraid to risk the fall of the coin but Marx had not quite liquidated the gambling fever that runs strong in the blood of any Chinese be he ever so communist stunned Joe and Lai retorted we agree let the coin decide it was agreed that prime minister Nehru of India as a neutral should supervise the matter and that New Delhi would be the scene of the actual tossing and Nehru thought it fitting to invite general O'Reilly as the father of the whole thing to bring the same golden judge to India to be used again the general came gladly but declined to make the toss himself my country is too closely involved in this matter he explained and there might be talk if an American made the toss he suggested Nehru himself do it and the prime minister agreed the actual tossing was done in the great governmental palace communist China won Chiang Kai Chek's delegate bowed impassively and said coolly that his government yielded without question to the goddess of chance that night the Indian prime minister was host to a glittering official banquet to celebrate the ending of the offshore island crisis and we must lift our glasses he said eloquently after dinner to the man who discovered this the same method of settling quarrels a method so sensible so fair that it is difficult to believe that in all the world's long search for peace it has not been discovered before I give you general O'Reilly the general rose to loud applause he expressed his thanks modestly and disclaimed any merit except that of pure luck then he held up the golden judge with a gleam in his eye I hope he said that this coin will still have more work to do surely there are still disputed places in the world where justice lies on both sides where only face saving prevents a settlement and surely it is better to resort to this coin than to force and war and bitter arguments that drag on year after year here here Nehru cried leading the applause general O'Reilly stood smiling until it died away places like Kashmir he said clearly there was a gasp of laughter quickly hushed Nehru's face was pale with anger he was famous for his temper and everyone knew how India and Pakistan had quarreled for years over Kashmir and that all the efforts and nation had come to nothing so far I was delighted to hear Prime Minister Nehru say general O'Reilly went on calmly how much he approved this method of settling old disputes and I should be very glad to help with this smiling he tossed the golden judge in the air and caught it again Nehru could keep silent no longer like a skilled oriental debater he struck back indirectly we thank general O'Reilly he said acidly for his kind offer but perhaps it should be first used by his own people the Irish of whose gambling prowess he is so proud surely no bitterness has lasted longer than that between the Republic of Ireland and the six lost counties of Northern Ireland let the Irish use the golden judge themselves before they counsel it for others but general O'Reilly was unrupled I'm an American myself he said smiling although proud indeed of my Irish blood and the Irish will have to speak for themselves although I venture to say you'll find them a sporting people indeed but that's not quite the point is it it was you yourself sir who praised the golden judge so highly and you've seen today what fine sportsmen the Chinese are the point is are the Indians a sporting people of course we're a sporting people Nehru glared then I take it you'd be willing assuming Pakistan agrees of course but I'm told they're a very sporting people also the general tossed the coin again absentmindedly alright Nehru grated if they agree so do we it took a month before Pakistan could agree and all the arrangements be made for the toss on Kashmir but in that month the world had other things to think about Shankar Shek accepted his gambling loss without a murmur and removed his troops from Kamoi and Matsu the American Seventh Fleet helping the communists not interfering on the islands who wished to go to Formosa were taken there Washington said little officially but in the corridors of the Pentagon Congress and the White House the size of relief reached Gale force General O'Reilly received a confidential and personal message from the Army Chief of Staff that made him pink with pleasure may get that third star after all he told his wife that night and not too long to wait maybe but above all the month was filled with clamor from Ireland Her Majesty's Government in Whitehall had immediately issued a communique which took a glacial view of the purile proposal to toss for Northern Ireland it was the timing of this communique rather than its contents that proved a tactical error it had come too quickly and Irishman both North and South presented it as a Belfast newspaper wrote tartly Irishman on both sides of the line are quite able to decide such matters for themselves without the motherly interference of London Dublin agreed in principle to toss but the wrangling over conditions and exceptions boiled up into the greatest inter Irish quarreling of 20 years it was still raging when General O'Reilly flew into the Vale of Kashmir with a broad smile and the golden judge again the great coin glittered high in the air while none other than Nehru himself called out tensely, heads it fell tails so be it Nehru said calmly shaking hands with the Governor General of Pakistan well General Nehru said turning to O'Reilly with a smile are you satisfied now I think we've proved we're a sporting people so had the Chinese and the Jews and the Arabs but what about your own fault the Irish from what I read their sporting qualities seem to be highly overrated I'd say they'd never gamble but on a sure thing the General's face went red at the insult and so a day later did the collective face of all Irishmen north and south for a while there was a gas silence from the Emerald Isle a silence sullen and embarrassed and then a great rumbling roar of indignation Mr. Speaker cried a member of the Dale in Dublin are the Irish people who honored great gamblers only a little less than great poets to be outdone by dark-skinned heathen Mr. Speaker I say no the following morning the Government of Ireland formally offered to toss for the six lost counties and if the coin fell contrary to say no more about them forever Belfast agreed that same afternoon and the whole island went wild with excitement hardly any Irishman failed to play some kind of side bet on the outcome and stakes were laid that day that would be spoken of with prideful awe for generations to come the remark of a limerick drayman was widely quoted there's not a man of us here he commented in the course of a game of darts at the sword and shamrock but would toss a coin for his grandmother's head and well you know it so after all the blathering why not have a go for the six counties and let the coin decide it now and forever once and for all win or lose the British Government surrendered with grace and offered to play host to the toss in London as a neutral place they soon learned with burning ears but the last place on earth any Irishman considered neutral was London as a matter of course O'Reilly was invited to preside using the golden judge like most Irishmen in America he had long sung of and sighed for the old sod while carefully avoiding going there even for a visit he now realized his error he was received as one of Ireland's most glorious sons he was set upon by thousands perhaps hundreds of thousands of proud O'Reilly's from the bogs and O'Reilly's from the great houses O'Reilly's in top hats and O'Reilly's in Tamashanter he was assured and came near believing it that in both looks and wisdom he was the spitting image of the great O'Reilly one of the many last rightful kings of Ireland a minstrel composed a lay about him the golden judge of Ireland he was smothered in shamrock and swum in the gifts of patine secretly he much preferred scotch whiskey to Irish but the swarming O'Reilly's made the disposal of the patine no very great problem the actual toss took place in a small railroad station hastily cleaned up on the railway line between Dublin and Belfast impartial surveyors had certified it as being exactly astral the frontier amid a death like hush with a high sense of history in his heart General O'Reilly flipped the golden judge high in the air ire won the six counties were no longer lost and there was little enough work done in Ireland for a fortnight ire instantly and magnanimously granted to her new north all the points that had been thought over so bitterly for so many years for the northerners to their surprise life went on exactly as before except for the different postage stamps and a change to heading on their income tax returns which were considerably lower for the first time in many years there were no brick bats thrown if a man felt the need on a summer night to sing God Save the Queen General O'Reilly flew away from Ireland with a mist in his eyes and a great glow in his heart in a shaven second he had achieved the thing for which long and gallant generations of earlier O'Reilly's had fought bloodily and in vain for a fleeting moment he wondered if his nervous right hand that day had shown any subconscious partisanship but rejected the thing as impossible if the toss for the six counties was in a way a crowning peak of General O'Reilly's career it was by no means the end of it both he and his coin were fast becoming settled tradition he continued his normal military career but with the tacit understanding he would have a few days leave of absence whenever the golden judge was needed he took it to Stockholm for the toss that settled the old and bitter fishing controversy between Britain and Iceland and Britain won he took it to Cairo where Britain and Greece tossed for Cyprus Greece won and it once offered Britain all the bases she wanted there and granted special extraterritorial status to all British colonels knights widows and former governors of the Punjab living in retirement on the island he got his third star just before he flew down to Rio de Janeiro for the toss that finally settled the nagging quarrel between Britain and Argentina as to who owned the Falkland Islands Britain won he took it to the Hague in Holland for the toss about the Tsar the Tsar had remained a European sore point despite a series of Franco-German settlements which never seemed to settle anything Germany won the toss and immediately of her own free will granted the French equal commercial rights the Tsar toss had two odd results the first was purely personal for General O'Reilly but he never forgot it one day driving through the Hague his official car passed a huge dignified building which his chauffeur explained was the world court with a strange feeling the general noticed a solemn old man in black and bleakly out the window he realized suddenly it was probably a judge and that the golden coin in his pocket had turned this costly mechanism into an anachronism nobody used the world court anymore now the other result of the Tsar toss was from the viewpoint of world jurisprudence far more important it transformed the golden judge from a mirror tradition into an established legal institution in this manner France and Germany had been unable to agree whether the Tsar was really tossable a term that suit enter dictionaries and had appealed to the United Nations to decide a temporary or ad hoc United Nations commission had been named to settle this point and after due deliberation had pronounced the Tsar tossable technically the Tsar commission should have then dissolved itself instead in the way parliamentary institutions it lingered on and soon became the accepted body to decide on tossability and illogically it was forever afterwards still called the Tsar commission whenever anywhere in the world some international dispute reached stalemate it became commonplace for some delegate to rise and say Mr. Chairman I move the question be referred to the Tsar commission in due course the Tsar commission would then give its solemn judgment as to whether or not the dispute should be put to the arbitrament of the golden judge if so general O'Reilly would board a plane and be off once the Tsar commission had its say no nation ever dared refuse to put a dispute to the hazard of the coin whereas nations yawned at being called warmongers or imperialists or aggressors or international bandits none could stand being called bad sportsmen or poor losers so many nations had accepted the verdict of the golden judge that it became increasingly more difficult not to say impossible for a given nation to admit it was less sporting than the others however not all disputes were held tossible to the disappointment of some people who had too quickly believed the golden judge would bring immediate utopia the end of all quarreling forever gradually the Tsar commission involved certain criteria a dispute was not tossible if it might give great populations and great nations over into systems of government they abhorred it was tossible only the population involved had no very great bias one way or the other a tossible dispute was one in which justice lay on both sides evenly balanced tossing was clearly indicated where both sides ardently wished a settlement but where neither side was willing to cede an inch for fear of losing face thus the Tsar commission pronounced untossible the proposal by the Soviet Union to have the golden judge decide whether or not America should abandon all her overseas bases it also turned down the suggestion of an American senator that Russia and the United States should toss for Soviet withdrawal from all Eastern Europe it denied the appeal of an idealistic Dane who wanted a toss to decide whether Germany should be all communist or all western it likewise rejected a Swiss proposal that Schenkeichek and Chao and Lai should toss again this time for Formosa itself in passing it is of interest to note that only once did Soviet Russia agree to talk it was in the matter of her old dispute with Persia over caviar fishing rights in the Caspian sea Persia won but to the consternation of the world Russia refused to abide by the outcome it was the first and only time that the decision of the golden judge was not obeyed and it had startling repercussions all over the world fellow travelers abandoned the Soviet cause they had been able to find some excuses however tortuous for Russian purges, forced confessions concentration camps and aggressions they turned away, shopped and saddened from a nation that openly welched on a bet there were strong reactions within Russia itself although the convulsions were largely screened from western eyes however an unprecedented number of Russians fled across the iron curtain seeking asylum in the west they said gloomily they could no longer support a regime that reneged on its fair gambling losses and protested fiercely this was not the true soul of Russia in a gallant effort to recoup face for Russian sportsmanship many of those refugees grimly began playing almost non-stop games of Russian roulette which gives the player a five to one chance of living some extreme chauvinists proudly reduced the odds to three to one by inserting two bullets and a former red army major named Tolbunin even used three his tour de force was widely admired although not repeated and Tolbunin himself was given a magnificent funeral yet except for the Caspian caviar toss the golden judge was obeyed as unquestioningly as the voice from Sinai and perhaps more so and if it could be used only in what some called minor disputes it was surprising to see once these were settled how really few major ones remain it is impossible here of course to list more than a few of general rallies tosses but he flew to nearly every spot on earth a beloved world figure he flew to Ethiopia and caught malaria there to settle an old quarrel between that country and the sedan over while Sudanese enclave called Gambela well inside Ethiopia a relic of the times when Britain controlled the Sudan Gambela had long been a thorn in the side of the conquering lion of Judah although the Nagus lost he accepted the verdict as uncomplainingly as earlier disputants some three thousand years before and once accepted the awards of fugitive ancestor King Solomon general O'Reilly ended a tiny but poisonous quarrel of many years standing as to whether British Honduras should become part of the Republic of Honduras Britain won in an epic tour in 1973 that left the world gasping with admiration general O'Reilly spread lasting balm on many sores in the Middle East the golden judge settled in favor of Pakistan her friction with Afghanistan over the long disputed Pathan territory Saudi Arabia won from Britain too small and completely worthless OACs on the undefined border between Saudi Arabia and Truciel Oman these cases had over the years produced many hot and vain notes and desultory shooting but the lord of Saudi Arabia was subsequently much disappointed that they never produced oil he was further dismayed when the golden judge awarded to Iraq a neutral zone between the two countries on which they had never been able to agree and this zone did in fact produce tremendous amounts of oil however he complained only to Allah Syria and Turkey resorted to the toss to decide about the Sanjak of Alexandreta Iskenderum which Turkey had been given by France back in the 30s when France ran Syria Turkey won Damascus sighed but smiled and reopened diplomatic relations with Ankara that had been severed for more than 20 years but on a golden January day in 1975 in Malaga, Spain O'Reilly's aide de camp noticed that his chief seemed strangely preoccupied the occasion was a toss between Sweden and Finland as to the possession of four large rocks lying in the sea at the head of the Gulf of Bothnia just off the Finno-Swedish frontier these rocks just south of the Arctic Circle contained no population other than seagulls but had been warmly claimed by both nations for many years and since the weather in Scandinavia in January is miserable the Finns and Swedes had sagely decided to hold the toss in Malaga which was as far south as they could go and still be in Europe in public General O'Reilly was himself charming, dependable, cheerful he carried out the toss as gracefully as he had all the others and he made a winning speech at the banquet given by the Finns to celebrate their acquisition of the four sub-arctic rocks but the ADC was not diluted and later on the flight back to Washington he observed that General O'Reilly was unusually abstracted, impensive, lost in thought but since a major does not ask a lieutenant general about such matters he kept silent the fact was that the general had now reached 65 and in the American Army 65 his retirement age as the ocean fled away under the racing plane he was remembering the scene the week before in the office of the Army Chief of Staff it's up to you Terry the Chief of Staff had said you know perfectly well that the President is willing even eager to keep you on past the retirement age you're a big man in the world now you can stay on the active list as long as you want Terry he'll ask a special law and there won't be one vote against it then the general remembered his wife you've done enough darling it's time we had a real permanent home for once in our lives that garden for me those Aberdeen Angus for you remember you've traveled too much you've never really gotten over that malaria darling you need a rest you've earned it the general gazed out the plane window trying to make up his mind then suddenly he chuckled the ADC saw him pull a leather case out of his pocket and watched puzzled as a golden coin spun briefly in the air the general caught it on the back of his left hand covering with his right then he removed the right looked at it he chuckled again when general O'Reilly retired the following week the President gave a big star for him and in a special message listed in glowing terms the services he had rendered to America and the world the bill passed without a murmur and Terrence Patrick O'Reilly became at last the full general messages poured in from nearly every country in the world from dozens of presidents and premiers and the handful of remaining kings along with them came hundreds of gifts a present tusk from Nepal a royal coban hug and dinner service for 24 from the Kingdom of Denmark a one rupee note from a 10 year old girl in Bombay and a gesture that excited much speculation a case of caviar from the Kremlin the Department of Defense denounced that general O'Reilly had become the most decorated soldier ever to wear American uniform in every toss each of the rival sides had awarded him some kind of decoration when he wore full dress uniform the ribbons solidly covered both sides of his tunic and he was nearly strangled with various stars and orders that dangled from ribbons around his neck he retired just in time his wife told her daughter in law one day at tea there's not another square inch left for another ribbon General O'Reilly presented the golden judge to the United Nations and the King of Saudi Arabia proved his sportsmanship by having a theft proof case made for it of solid crystal so that it could be on public display it was soon as visited and cherished as the Magna Carta and the Liberty Bell a night and day guard stood watch over it yet it was far from a useless relic often the crystal case was empty and this meant it was seeing service somewhere in the world in the hands of a Swedish general who had finally been chosen by the United Nations to succeed Terence O'Reilly in his final press interview General O'Reilly unburdened himself of some thoughts which refined have passed into international jurisprudence under the name of O'Reilly's law for thousands of years the general said thoughtfully mankind has been making all kinds of commandments and laws and prohibitions and contracts and treaties and broken them all when the mood suited them perhaps it's a sad thing to say but so far nothing's ever been invented that men will really live up to more than the terms of a bet with very very few exceptions a man or a nation will respect a bet when he won't respect any other damn thing on earth the end end of the golden judge by Nathaniel Gordon the rising smile the easy strength in his big body were pervasive recommendations but the banks of praise they'll scarcely got that far wasn't he the first buyer in 15 years for that bone yard of lonely dreams dark valley the county seat of wide bend presided over three valleys corresponding to the forks of the Salnook River once dark valley had been houses and barn stood among orchards laden with fruit fields chock full of heavy bearded green till one spring the middle fork of the river had dried up the farmers called in specialists who sank wells and pilot holes measured the slopes they heard much talk about water tables about springs undercutting rock formations but when it was done the fact remained dark valley's water supply was choked off beyond man's ability to explore it in the end the farmers gave up they left their dusty houses and shriveled orchards and dark valley died boys hiked over there occasionally men scared it for fence posts or pipe young couples passed quickly through on moonlight nights and at least two stubborn old timers squatted at the upper end now that Joe Merkeloss had bought it of course they would have to move Jerry Bronson looked around at the other members of the wide bend businessmen's club doesn't take a lawyer to answer that hen damn shame said Corso the barber who always championed underdogs they've had no equity in that land for years the bank just let them stay on it they can move over the hill Jerry nodded maybe somebody ought to suggest that to them don't look at me Corso said those old coots aint been near my shop for years when the chuckles died McAllister the drugist voiced the thought that rested unspoken on all their minds I wonder if that fella realizes what a worthless piece of land he's bought he looked over it this was Hammond of the bank of course you didn't try to talk him out of it would you have Hammond retorted indignantly Henderson jabbed the air with his cigar I think he was a coal miner back east saved up his money to get on the land I think he's a gypsy Corso said you ought to know Tipton the grocer laughed Corso got fined for his reply and with the tinkle of coins in the luncheon club kitty the men disappeared Joel Merkelo's relatives arrived that night Henderson who told Jerry Bronson about it had made an early morning delivery of feed nearby and driven on to take a look at Merkelo's purchase from the river he viewed Dark Valley's three miles of width and six or so of length figures were moving about the gaunt and windowless farm buildings at least one plow was in operation and the good blue friendliness of smoke arose here and there looked like a lot of people Jerry but you know I didn't see any cars or trucks around Jerry's blue eyes crinkled human nature didn't like puzzles any more than it liked strangers he returned to the tedious civil case he was working on he decided he was tired and bored enough to call the day he got into his car and headed for Dark Valley aside from his curiosity he thought he might talk to the two old squatters at the far end the carvers were independent and trusulent now that Joel Merkelo's relatives had arrived in full force there was a danger of a clash as the road topped the bridge it left green fields and orchards abruptly behind but Dark Valley had a wild sort of beauty cupped as it was between two rows of hills while curved together as higher jumbled foothills to the west Jerry's car trailed a plume of dust as it slid down to the dry riverbed he made a left turn and started up the valley road at the first farm he saw dark plump women in billowing dresses wearing peasant scarves over their heads they moved to bed the barnyard raking dead leaves and scratching busily on the baked earth of the old truck gardens chickens and ducks strayed and Jerry caught a glimpse of the children he waved to the group and was answered by nods and flashing smiles then he had a shock one of the women was working the handle of a pump that had been bone dry for 15 years and a slender stream of clear water spilled into her wooden tub somewhat daisily Jerry drove on and more of the Myrkolo's people at other farms men were working in the withered orchards new fence posts and rails were going up bright axes flashed in the dry and scraggly Jerry's thoughts kept returning to the water in that first pump could it be that they had learned the valley had a supply again? that would be a mighty joke on Hammond in the first national bank the road, badly rutted by erosion and drifted over with sand dry leaves began to rise Jerry's shifted into low gear then suddenly he stopped he'd had another shock he had just realized this road was unused he recalled the twin ruts patterned with rabbit and bird tracks clear back to the turn off without question his car had been the first to mark the road since winter then how had these dozens of people come with their chickens and ducks and children and tools he had seen no cars, no wagons no carts how would these people come Jerry sat back in the seat and grinned he fist out his tobacco pouch and filled his pipe there were times when he considered himself fairly mature fairly well balanced yet he was as ready as the next to build a house of mystery out of the insubstantial timber of ignorance of course there was a reasonable explanation they must have walked from the railroad good many miles, but it was perfectly possible feeling better Jerry followed the torturous road to the western crest his long legs hadn't taken him far from the car when he heard a harsh hold up first one, then the other carver brother stepped out from a scrub oak thicket short, leathery old men with ragged whiskers and dirt seemed into their faces and wrists they eyed him malevolently he came to talk to you Jerry said mildly one of them he thought it was edge spat ah now Jerry went on in a grieve tone that's a fine way to treat a son of Jack Bronson the carver brothers glanced at one another, then the shotguns lowered come along they said gruffly, in the littered yard by their cabin they pointed to a bench and squatted down before it on their thin old shanks new people in dark valley they nodded they bought it from the bank they owned it clear to the ridgeline including your place here we've been here 40 years said Ed if I owned it you could stay 40 more they send you the voice was sharp, suspicious Jerry shook his head I just thought you'd like to know about it for a couple of minutes the carver brothers chewed tobacco in unison they stood up, reached for their guns we'll see, they said they walked beside him kicking thoughtfully at the leaves the brother named Mike rubbed his whiskers get much of a look at him when you pass through some, they foreigners Jerry sighed inwardly maybe, they look like hard workers the carver brothers cackled suddenly they better be to farm that land Jerry passed back through the valley a man knocking at Stunt's Wade to him a woman in a barnyard switched out her big shooing chickens at that first farm a trickle of water still ran from the pump Wideben was a normal community along with it natural curiosity there was a genuine feeling of neighborliness heightened by the conviction that these hard working strangers had thrown their money away on the hopeless venture so one way and another a fair percentage of the town's population found excuses in the next few days to get out to dark valley bit by bit the reports filtered back to Jerry and they all added up about the same Joe Merkulis and his people were incredibly industrious already they had cleaned up the yards repaired sagging barns and roofless sheds curtains flooded at the windows cows had appeared and sheep even a few small horses somehow perhaps from accumulated seepage they were still bringing water from the rusty pumps and though it was surely an illusion dark valley seemed to have taken on a tinge of green again Wideben's women folk brought gifts of homemade preserves jelly, canned vegetables and came way puzzled no, they hadn't been badly received all was politeness and smiles but there was, well, a sort of remoteness about these people the kids went out of sight the minute you turned into a place and you just couldn't get close to the grownups dark they were and heavy looking they smiled a lot jabbering in unknown language they had beautiful white teeth but no jewelry or ornaments such as gypsies might wear they always appeared pleased that you had brought them something, but on the way home you discovered you still had your presence after all the best guess as to the number in the tribe somehow that seemed the best way to describe them was 60 give or take a few the general verdict was expressed by Henderson at the next club luncheon they're odd but they're hard workers darned good thing for the community Miller, the jeweler agreed vigorously self-interest Jerry Mummard it is a wonderful thing they turned on him they haven't bought a thing from us what if they did kidding boys, I've got something to sell too then Jerry frowned they haven't bought anything around the table head shook and the carceral growled they wear their hair long too in the laughter the matter was forgotten but Jerry remembered it that night sitting on the porch of his house there must have been hundreds of items tools and nails and hinges and glass and wire and sandpaper and oil and rope and seed and salt and sugar that tribe needed how could they there was a step on the path you there carceral called chair hoisted his feet to the railing you know how kids are that boy of mine he couldn't stand about dark valley he was out there with a couple of pals poking around yes Jerry didn't realize his voice was sharp oh no trouble but the middle fork of the river started to run again for a long time after carceral had gone Jerry sat with his cold pipe in his mouth there were reasonable explanations for every one of the small oddities that had cropped up with Joe merkelos and his people but he couldn't shake a growing feeling of uneasiness Jerry went to bed muttering for he was a man well trained to keep emotion and fact separate but the feeling was still with him when he awoke and he recognized it later on Henderson's face we got to get the boys together and talk this thing over the feed and fuel owner said what's up that's missing Jerry gave a start he had just spent at least half an hour looking for this garage lock every day this week Henderson went on heavily I've had people in to replace some little thing that was lost hatchets and feeding troughs and spare parts and panes of glass and things like that a couple of the old chicken broaders that were stored 10 salt blocks Anderson had in his bar just then McAllister stepped over from his drugstore to join them damn it he said plaintively dusting off his store jacket I've been in the basement the last hour looking for an old pipe wrench I swear I left it there Jerry met Henderson's glance alright he said let's get the gang together for some lunch today Sheriff Watson joined them in the back room of the restaurant when the coffee came Jerry rose to explain the purpose of the meeting our problem he began may amount to nothing at all or could turn out to be mighty nasty Hen and I thought it was time to talk it over briefly he recapulated Dark Valley's reawakening he described Joe Mercolos and his people their odd clothing, their independence their alien language point one he said most people don't like strangers he described the tribe's arrival without cars or wagons without even a mark on the abandoned road he spoke of the pumps that came to life the river that now ran again progress the tribe had made seemed almost beyond human capacity point two Jerry said most people don't like mysteries he turned okay Hen first Henderson explained that none of the tribe had bought supplies of any kind in West Bend he got corroboration from other businessmen present then as he summarized the missing articles heads began to nod faces got red and lists were clenched Jerry got to his feet again point three I don't need to spell it much more of this than carloads of men with guns will be heading for that ridge they'll be the kind of trouble we don't want on widebends conscious should we let them rob us blind? shouted Tipton no wonder they do so good Curcio cried how about the water? Hammond asked sarcastically you think they stole that too? someone shouted back and a heated discussion raged Jerry finally banged on the table with a sugar bowl let's hear from the sheriff Watson hoisted his big frame inside Jerry's right boys we got a nasty situation building up right now my old woman so mad at the dark valley people she could spit and why? only because she can't figure him out he brushed his mustache and looked at Tipton then people are human beings aren't they? Tipton scowled but nodded anything they'd done that couldn't be explained by natural causes no matter how silly or complicated Tipton thought about it and had to shake his head believe me boys the only thing to get excited about is the stuff that's missing if they're pinching it we can catch them and punish them they may be foreigners but they sure as hell have to obey the law of the land now Hammond said we're talking sense give me a list of what's missing Watson added and I'll go to dark valley this afternoon and take a look around the place everybody satisfied Jerry asked? everybody was sheriff Watson frowned at the list as Jerry drove into the first barnyard they scattered chickens ducks and children seen blurrily as they scrambled to hide they remained a few minutes then went on to the next farm and the next on the rise that led to the Carver cabin Jerry stopped the car they looked at one another Watson rubbed his face irritably I'm beat Jerry there's something here I can't get my hands nor my head on to I know the sheriff banged one hand against the crumpled list that butter churn of Mulfords by God I saw it same brand, same color even had scratches around the base with that old cat had sharpened claws I know Jerry said again but it had a letter Z cut into it worn and weathered so you'd swear it had been there for years and years that spring tooth heral of Zimmerman's except the one we saw had 12 teeth instead of 15 and even the man who made it couldn't find where it had been altered or tampered with it had been the same with a score of other things each one slightly changed just different enough to make identification impossible to prove slowly Jerry said wood gets weathered metal oxidizes honest wear is unmistakable and these all take time which can't be faked his implication hung in the air as things had been stolen then altered to avoid identification whoever did it had more than human ability magic Watson wondered there's no such thing no there absolutely ain't they sat looking with troubled eyes in the dark valley till Jerry said abruptly I'm going on up to see the carvers Watson reached for the door handle they don't have no use for me all wait here I got plenty to think about Jerry nodded the sheriff would be remembering the seeds already sprouting in the kitchen gardens the leaves that had jumped out of the old fruit trees the lands and calves capering in pastures washed with the green of new grass the road was smooth this is cleared and deepened bright clothing napped on shiny new clothes lines those were on the list but how can you identify a roll of wire cordwood was stacked in every yard new shingles spotted the roofs the windows held glass again fresh paint glistened on porches in the fields corner notes and hay were shooting upward Jerry found the carvers waiting for him three wrinkled old faces tense they didn't answer his greeting just jerked their heads they led him past the cabin threw open breasts and halted at a bearish place slowly Jerry sank to his knees except for its size it could have been a sprayed air cougar print but it was two feet across and pressed more than an inch into the hard dry soil finally Ed Carver nudged Jerry the gnarled finger pointed to a twig about eight feet off the ground caught on the twig were several coarse black hairs six inches long Jerry looked from them back to the carvers then down at the ground again he didn't speak what was there to say as they started back toward the cabin Ed Carver said harshly we found that two nights ago Jerry broaded for some distance then he said Ned Ames has the best hunting dogs in the country they looked at him disgustedly damn it you have to do something come back to town with me we'll get some boys together and hunt it down they passed the cabin and reached the car the Carver brothers looked out over dark valley and shook their heads we've lived alone Ed said we'll fight alone when Jerry told the sheriff about the giant spore Watson gave a snort those old coots got bats in their belly but I saw the print Watson dismissed such evidence with a wave of his hand they made it up probably forget it till you see the animal itself you'll have time to believe it then we got enough worry about already Jerry couldn't forget it but there was a kind of reassurance in such hearty skepticism with each passing minute that huge print seemed more unreal halfway through the valley they stopped to look at the river the bed was half full debris laden with a sheen of dust on the surface but it was water wet, tangible, undeniable Watson took off his hat and rubbed his head and swore good afternoon they turned Joe Myrkalos was smiling at them hello Jerry said Watson glowered Myrkalos moved beside them and looked down his brilliant teeth flashed good is it not the guttorial words came out flat one at a time as though shaped carefully better than money in this part of the world Jerry's eyes narrowed did you know about the water when you bought the valley Myrkalos smiled again he was bare headed dressed in dark trousers and a loose short sleeved blouse his neck and muscular forearms gleamed bronze in the sunlight you like what we do here he asked in his deep hesitant manner Myrkalos' smoky eyes held Jerry's my people are used to work slowly, significantly Watson said the thing we don't understand is how you manage to bring so much equipment the exact things you needed right down to the last nail Myrkalos' inscrutable gaze swung around the smile lingered on his face we are careful people we plan a long way ahead Watson opened his mouth for another question and shut it Myrkalos' attention had left them the man was listening his head slightly cocked after a moment he turned I am happy to see you making a visit I hope you come again he nodded and walked away swiftly wordlessly Jerry and the sheriff got back into the car could you hear what he was listening to Jerry muttered I didn't hear a thing notice anything else about dark valley no flowers not one dog he was frightened on the steering wheel and who has ever gotten a single clear look at one of the kids Jerry spent a restless night on the way to his office the next morning he met Watson talking to a farmer on the courthouse steps listen to Carson here the sheriff said grimly Carson straw hat bobbed as he talked I'm waiting to see the farm advisor something's gone wrong out at my place on South Fork I'm on good bottom land highest yield in the county last two three weeks my corn my wheat even my berries have stopped growing Jerry's eyes jumped to Watson yep Carson went on every single earl corn is still in nublin he threw out his arms and by god even my wife's radishes has stood still ain't anything on earth that'll slow up a radish how about other stuff how about eggs same thing cut right down hensley one and ten now and my alfalfa has turned to funny gray green even the fruit what about the river Watson broke in what about the river Watson broke in you still got water in the South Fork way down for this time of year but we got enough several people had stopped to listen one of them a big toe-headed swede burst out excitedly mister you got the same trouble as my cousin his crops they're growing backwards there was more of the same impossible thing to do there was more of the same impossible talk Jerry made an excuse to get away to his office he sat at his desk and stared at the window there wasn't any problem he tried to tell himself anything you could not measure by experience and logic was out that had to include giant paw prints and mysteriously missing objects as well as radishes that wouldn't grow dark valley was taking on life and freshness fact the south fork and portions of the north fork seemed to be losing fertility fact but to conclude from this the dark valley was gaining at the expense of the others that was the road no reasonable man could allow himself to take from his window he saw the huge old trees that shaded wide bend they looked suddenly wrong weren't they less green less thick than before the buildings and streets looked dingy or two and when did all those broken fences cracked windows missing shingles show up Jerry lounged from his chair and strode up and down the room then the telephone bell tore through his nerves he grabbed the instrument Watson I just wanted to tell you two boys have been reported missing no the simons kids but they've run away before they'll be back Jerry's hand went slowly down the sheriff's voice echoed holly from the lord receiver well won't it was after midnight when the doorbell rang it didn't wake Jerry he was sitting in bed staring into the darkness there was a pile of books beside him he knocked them over getting up to answer the door Mike Carver stumbled in he dropped into a chair panting Jerry went for a bottle and glass Carver gulped the drink then held the tumbler out for another I run all the way down the ridge he gasped till I catched a ride I figured you'd ought to know what happened it got my brother Ed Jerry's lean face hardened yeah it was prowling around we went after it and shot it but you said I said it killed Ed the old lips tightened we gave it one slug through the heart and one through the head they didn't even slow it down you mean Jerry asked carefully that they didn't have an effect at all Mike nodded he tipped the glass whipped his ragged sleeve across his face and rose where are you going back to the cabin Mike you can't go there that's where my brother's body is look Joe said evenly you can't help him now stay here with me and we'll go up in the morning Carver shook his head my brother's there at the cabin I got to set up with him there was no arguing against the tone of simple and other finality alright wait till I get some clothes on and I'll drive you back a few minutes later they passed through West Bend's deserted streets and started out the road to the valley Carver rolled out the window and spat tobacco juice fella was up to see us he said gloomily told us people were losing things all over the county including two kids said crots have shrunk said water and the forks is way down said people were getting the idea that Dark Valley was living off the rest of the land feeding on it like a parasite how crazy you think that is slowly Jerry said I'm not sure it's crazy at all Carver broded I shot that thing tonight should have been dead if a critter it was then I seen it go after it you know what all this means don't you witchcraft something people haven't believed in for hundreds of years maybe they better get started again they were nearing the divide that overlooked Dark Valley Mike I've been reading up on it for hours everything I could find and it fits it's been the hardest struggle I ever had admitting such a thing existed but it was either acknowledged that I had to lose my mind the night seemed colder as they started downward unaccountably the headlights dimmed something watching us Carver said suddenly as the car board on through the thick and swerving darkness Jerry nodded his hands gripped the wheel until the knuckles were white sweat began to glisten on his forehead the headlights picked out a dark spot that looked like a yawning hole Jerry stamped on the brake skidded slightly a rut deformed by shadows he pressed the accelerator and the motor died hurriedly he jabbed the starter button pumped the gas pedal again he pushed it and again as the lights faded from the drain on the battery what's the matter Carver's old voice was thin flooded maybe better let her sit a minute the darkness pressed close around them shifted and danced chill air moved over their faces Mike? why didn't that animal come after you too? Carver breathed heavily for a moment then he took something from his shirt pocket and held it out Jerry's fingers moved over it a crucifix my mother gave it to me a long time ago that's probably the only thing that could have saved you from what I read they can't stand to cross and Silver's got something to do with it Jerry reached into his own pocket feel this Carver's rough hand fumbled over the object made it this evening a sizzling hammer to an old silver tray not fancy but it was all I had you done that? before I came and told you about Ed Jerry nodded grimly I'm convinced rough against something terrible and believe me Mike I'm scared the shadows grew closer thicker still they seemed charged with menace with the catch in his voice Jerry said maybe now's the time to try it and then he jirked around I mean smashed Mercolos in his tribe for good how? with fire in the silver crosses after a long pause Carver said what about Ed? we'll get to your cabin we're not far from the first farm we can go right out the valley if it works and if it don't we might end up like Ed Carver turned and spat out the window I don't want to but I will they took gunny sacks and rags from the trunk compartment and soaked them in oil from the crankcase they wired a bundle on the extension handle of the jack and another on the radio area rod which Jerry unscrewed they tried to start the car once more without success so they turned out the lights and left it with one torch burning they started out the road for the first gate dark valley shadowy legions closed in there was a rustling and a whispering all around there were shiny glints where none ought to be there was an overwhelming feeling that something frightful waited just beyond the edge of darkness the gate, Carver said hoarsely Jerry unclenched his jaws and lit the second torch the flare art reflected from the blank windows ahead what about the women? what about the kids? Jerry spoke jerkily, his eyes on the house there aren't any kids what we saw was something else the women are the same as the men the same as the thing that killed Ed don't worry about them hold the cross in front of you and for God's sake hang on to it the darkness swelled like a living thing it swayed and clutched the torches somewhere a high whining began like a keening wind there were sudden sounds from the house banging and scramblings, Carver faltered on Jerry said savagely and began to run he touched his homemade crucifix to the wood of the porch and with the other hand brought the torch down blue sparks jumped out at him the dry wood hissed and blazed up furiously a frightful scream rang out there was the twinkle of breaking glass and formless figures stuttered to the ground and scuttled away on all fours headed up the valley within minutes the farmhouse was a massive roaring flame Jerry backed away from it he saw Carver outlined against the glowing barn which he had fired they came together and hurried back to the road there they stopped to watch the pillar of flame and smoke boiling upward it worked Carver said Jerry nodded we can't kill them but we can drive them out women and kids Carver said bitterly did you see them things that came out yes Jerry was drenched in sweat and the torch trembled in his hand let's get on to the next one Mike they went on to the neighboring farm and to the one after that all the shadows pulsed in an unholy turmoil the night swarmed with malignant invisible forces they tried to blow the flame from their torches that flayed them with naked sword of fear there were hideous shapes half seen there were ways of terror like a physical shock there were positive odors so ranked they gagged but they plotted through it faces set sweating and agonized till halfway at the valley it came Carver knew at first his leathery face paled his hands fumbled instinctively for the gun he was not carrying then Jerry said hoarsely Mike did you hear that Carver nodded dumbly clearly now came the sound of those huge paws paddling first on one side of them then the other Jerry clutched his cross till the rough edges bit deep into his hand it seemed that his very life was bound up with the torch that now smoked and struggled to burn if it's feeble light went out that meant extinction black and final then he became aware that Carver was no longer beside him he whirled ten yards behind Jerry was bending down scrambling frantically in the dust I dropped it he shouted I can't find it Jerry tried to reach him but the other thing was quicker a whirlpool of blackness and golf to Carver blotted him out then Jerry was confronted by an unbelievable sight a great savage head towering over him its eyes glowing readily and foam creaming over gigantic open jaws desperately he shoved his cross straight at it and roared definitely the thought of its paws shook the ground it lashed out with monster's claws that sliced his skin half stunned Jerry kept lunging towards it till finally his cross touched its course hide there was a crackle of blue flame a shriek that split the night and a thing disintegrated into rolling clouds of bitter smoke Jerry swayed the hand that held the cross was numb and tingling like an automation he turned went back outside the crumpled shape that had been Mike Carver then he rose still carrying the feebly flickering torch and plotted on they met him as he was coming back Watson, Henderson, Corsio, Miller Hammond and the rest they had flashlights and guns and tear gas and their faces were grim and desperate we found your car they said we could see the flames from wide bend what in the hell has been going on Jerry stared at them he dropped the dead torch one hand tried to put the cross back in his pocket his face was black his hair cinched his side wet with blood it's all over he croaked they're gone Dark Valley is free again Big Joe Merkilos was the first of them he appeared at the Rocky Mountain Trust Company one day cash in hand the charm of him, his flashing smile the easy strength in his big body were persuasive recommendations but the company's appraisal scarcely got that far they had ever had for that suburban real estate fiasco hidden acres end of the invaders recorded by Blair Buckland Lakehead Faculty of Education