y belief they are entitled to special consideration. Therefore my recommendation is as follows. That the proposed evacuation be delayed until these people can be psychologically conditioned to the idea of world change. Such conditioning, in my belief would enable this evacuation to be carried out without difficulty. She glanced at Norden Lund, who sat next to her at the table. Perhaps sub-administrator Lund has something to add to that report. Lund smiled. No, I will reserve my right to speak until later. His eyes held a gleam of anticipation. There was a moment of silence and Keniston could hear the soft gigantic rustling, the breathing and small stirring of the ranked thousands of the governors. The spokesman, a small alert man who was the voice of the board, the questioner who sat with them at the table said, The board of governors recognizes Keniston of Saul III. The rulers of the galaxy were waiting for him to speak. Others were waiting too. They were waiting in the dusk and cold of Saul III. The little world whose ancient name of earth had been all but forgotten in these halls of government. The mill-hands, the housewives, the rich men and the poor, the folk of Middletown. Varn Allen looked at him and smiled. He took a deep breath. He forced himself to speak. He forced the words to come out of the tight dark quarters of fear. We did not ask to come into your time. Having come, we are under Federation law and we do not defy your authority as such. We do not wish to make trouble. Our problem is a psychological one. He tried to explain to these men of the Federation something of what life had been like before that fateful morning in June. We do not understand how his people were bound to their world and why they must cling to it so desperately. I understand the technological problems of supporting life on a world such as ours, but we have known privation and suffering before. We are not afraid of them. And we believe that, given time, we can solve those problems. We don't even ask you for help, though we would be grateful if you cared to give it. All we ask of you is to be let alone to work out our own salvation. He stopped. The silence, the thousands of watching eyes bored down upon him with a crushing weight. Keniston struggled for a final word. There was so much he had not said, so much that could never be put into words. How do you phrase the history of the race of men, the pride and sorrow of their beginning?  You should not let her die. It was done. For good or ill, it was done and over. John Arnault leaned from where he sat beside him at the table. Magnificent, he whispered, and again, magnificent. The spokesman asked, Is it through the application of John Arnault's theories that you hope to bring back life to Sol III? Before Keniston could answer, Arnault himself cried out, On that point I ask leave to speak. The spokesman nodded. Arnault rose. The fierce energy that drove him could not be contained for long in any chair. He seemed to face the entire Board of Governors at once, turning his dark, challenging gaze upon them. You have denied me another chance to test my process, in spite of the fact that reputable scientists can challenge my equations. You have denied me that chance because of political considerations which are known to everyone here. The same considerations which deliberately made my first test fail by choosing for it a world too small for the energy blast released in its core. But Earth is not such a world. The experiment will succeed there. I demand that you let it be done. Remember, this process will solve not only the immediate problem before you, but also the whole future problem of dying worlds. You think that evacuation, transfer of populations is a better solution. But you can't go on moving populations forever. He paused. Then his voice rang out sternly. Neither can you, for a preconceived political philosophy, forever hold back scientific progress. I say that you have no right to deny to the peoples of the Federation the incalculable good that this process can do them, and therefore I ask permission to prove my process using the planet Sol III as the subject. He sat down. There was much whispering in the ranks of the governors, unknotting together of heads. Keniston stared hungrily at their faces. Impossible to tell. I think, John Arnold whispered, we may have done it. The spokesman lifted his gavel about to signal the beginning of the vote. Norden Lund said, I now claim my right to speak. It was granted, and Keniston felt his heart stop beating. Lund's voice rang through the amphitheater. There is one fact concerning these so-called Middletowners that has not been mentioned. One that my superior did not even discover. A fact which was learned from records in their own old town deciphered by the linguistic and historical expert of our party. Keniston grew tense. So it was coming now, whatever it was that Lund had found out through Piers Eglin. You have been told that these Middletowners are a kindly, harmless folk. You are asked to be sorry for them, to give them special indulgences, to overlook their little violences. And why? Because they are pathetic creatures, innocent victims of a freak of chance that threw them forward along their world line. Lund's face hardened. His voice thundered wrathfully. It was no freak of chance that brought them into our time. It was an act of war. He paused to understand that. Keniston saw Varn Allen's face. She was looking at Lund in amazement. Lund went on. Let Keniston deny this if he can. It was the explosion of a hostile atomic bomb that ruptured the continuum and hurled this city through. These people are the children of war, born and bred in an age of wars. Consider the mob violence, the threats made against the peoples, the refusal to accept peaceful authority. Consider that at this moment those kindly folk of Middletown are prepared for war, their trenches dug, their guns in place, ready to fire on the first federation ship that lands. Lund's voice dropped to a lower tensor pitch. I warn you that these people are rotten with the plague of war. For centuries, we of the federation struggled to find release from war and we found it. The galaxy has been clean of that hideous disease. Now it has appeared again among us. And we, the upholders of federation law, are wavering before a show of force. Keniston was on his feet. John Arnold clung to him holding him back. Varn Allen leaned over the table telling him in a desperate undertone, Don't, Keniston, keep your temper. The spokesman asked of Lund, What is your recommendation to the Board of Governors? Lund cried, Show these people that they cannot flout peaceful authority with a threat of war. Remove them as quickly as possible to some isolated world on the frontiers of the galaxy. A world so remote that they cannot infect the main thought currents of the federation with their brute psychology. Keniston broke away from Arnold's grasp.  Who are you? snarled Keniston to sit in judgment upon us. The words choked in his throat.  Yes, we fought our wars. We fought because we had to so that thought and progress and freedom could live in our world. You owe us for that. You owe us for the men that died so that there could one day be a federation of stars. You owe us for atomic power too. We may have misused it but it's the force that built your civilization and we gave it to you. One of those things, you men of the future. From earth you came and your whole civilization is rooted in our blood. You live in peace because we died in war. Remember that when you sit in judgment upon the past. He stood silent then, trembling and Varn Allen came to bring him back to his chair. Lund had got to his feet. He said, I will let Keniston's own action in his final argument. He sat down. The spokesman brought his gavel down. Keniston was hardly aware of the taking of the vote. He wrestled with a dark turmoil of doubt and anger and fear dreading to hear the words of judgment that he knew were coming. It is the final decision of the Board of Governors that the population of Sol III shall be evacuated in accordance with the official order and experiments with the Arnal process on a planetary scale can be considered safe at this time. It is the wish of the Governors that the people of Sol III be peaceably assimilated into the Federation. It is hoped that their attitude in the future will be such as to make this possible. If it is not, then they must be shown the futility of armed resistance. The hearing is concluded. Keniston realized that Arnal was telling him to get up. He rose and went out of the amphitheater with the others. He heard Vaughan Allen's voice speaking in bitter anger to Norden Lund. Nothing was very clear to him after that until he was back in his own quarters and Gore Hall was putting a glass in his hand. Magro and LaLore had waited there for the verdict. Vaughan Allen was still with him and Arnal. I'm sorry, Keniston, said Vaughan, and he knew she meant it. It was my fault if I hadn't lost my temper. Don't blame yourself, Keniston. Forgive me, but Lund had just enough truth on his side to carry the day. Why didn't you or your people tell us that you had been engaged in war back in your own time? He shook his head, because we weren't in any war. Don't you see, the bomb that hurled us out of our own time came in peacetime. Whatever followed we never knew about because we weren't there. She paced the room frowning and then said, I'm going to try to get this evacuation order lengthened out as long as possible. It may soften the blow a little for your people. I used to have some influence with the coordinators. Now I don't know. Lund has undermined me pretty badly. It dawned on Keniston then that this day had been a defeat for her too, and an unjust one. He had been too wrapped up in his own despair to think about it. It was his turn to say, I'm sorry.  Don't take this too hard, she said. Nobody could have done a better job than you did. She went out. They looked at each other with faces sick, angry, sullen. And the three humanoids. Well, said Gore Hall, it was a damn good try. I vote we have a drink. Magro said, it'll be bitter news for our people, Gore. They were beginning to hope. The cappellin rumbled. I know that.  He took a glass to John Arno, who was sitting staring at the wall. Cheer up, he said. Your process is bound to win out some day. Arno said, maybe, but that's not doing your people any good. All the humanoid peoples who backed and financed my work and put their hopes in it. I've let you down.  Keniston was thinking sickly of the people back there on Earth, waiting anxiously for his return. He was thinking of Carol, and he said slowly, I can't go back. I can't face them and tell them I failed. They'll get over it, said Gore Hall, in a heavy attempt to be reassuring. After all, going to a strange world isn't half as much of a shock as being hurled forward in time. They stood that. It happened before they knew it, said Keniston.  No, they won't get used to it. Their end. He spread his hands in a gesture of futile anger. That's what I can't make anybody, even you understand. They belong on Earth. It's like an extension of themselves. They will risk any danger, dare and threat to hold on to it. His gaze fell then on John Arnold's bitter face, abstracted and brooding on his own disappointment. Keniston's pulse gave a sudden leap. He said softly, any danger, any threat. Yes, by heaven. He was suddenly shaken by a terrible, desperate hope. He got up and went across the room to John Arnold.  Arnold nodded. Yes, over at my workshop in the mountains. He added bitterly, I sent them word last night to get the cruiser ready to go to Earth. I was so sure that our chance had come. Keniston asked him softly, tell me, Arnold, do you really believe in your own process? Arnold got to his feet. His eyes were suddenly hot and he looked as if he would hit the Earthman. Keniston demanded, do you believe in it enough to defy an order of the board? Arnold stiffened. After a moment he said, explain that, Keniston. He said, explain that, Keniston. Keniston explained, fairly shaking with the intensity of his idea he talked, and gradually Arnold's eyes took on a febrile glitter. He muttered, it could be done quickly there on Earth, the ancient heat shafts would eliminate the necessity of deep boring. But then he shook his head in a kind of dread. No, it would mean dismissal from the College of Scientists, Exile for the rest of my life. I can't do it, Keniston. You've worked and hoped for many years, Keniston reminded him cruelly, some day you give up hoping and your process will be forgotten and lost. He stood back. I won't say any more, except that here is your chance if you wish to take it, your chance to try your planet rejuvenation process on Earth. He waited then, silent. Gore Hall and the others watched. The Capellan's eyes were very bright. Arnold put his head in his hands and groaned, I can't, I can't, and yet they'll never grant permission that I know. A whole life's work wasted. Keniston watched him suffer, caught between desire and fear, and at last Arnold struggled to a decision. He said, hesitantly, We would have to leave it to your people to decide, Keniston. They must agree to accept the risk. I know them and I know they'll agree, Keniston exclaimed, and if they do beads of sweat stood on Arnold's forehead. If they're willing, I'll do it, he said huskily. A great excitement coursed through one chance, one last chance, after all. He looked at Gore Hall and Magro and LaLore. He asked, Are you with us in this? Gore Hall uttered a great booming laugh. Are we with you? He strode to Keniston and he said, We humanoids have been fighting this battle for a long time. Do you think we drop out now? Magro's cat eyes were glittering, but he merely nodded agreement. Arnold said excitedly, My flier is docked at Southport near here. It won't take long to get to my mountain workshop. LaLore began, I too.  Tell anyone who asks that we have all gone out to show Keniston the sights. The Myron sighed, All right Gore, but try to be careful, all of you. They left the apartment. Half an hour later their flier was splitting the nights on the way to the other side of Vega IV. End of Chapter 17 Chapter 18 of The City at World's End by Edmund Hamilton This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The City at World's End Chapter 18 Fateful Return Another night had come. In brilliant, unfamiliar stars black mountain peaks looked broodingly at the scene of feverish activity on the little plateau. Lights flared there, illuminating the little group of long, low buildings, the supply-yard with its crane and the dim metal mass of a small star cruiser battered and tarnished by long use.  You needn't worry, there's no danger of detonating it when it isn't even electrophused," John Arnold was saying reassuringly. Listen, if this energy bomb is able to change a whole planet, I'm treating it with respect," rumbled Gore Hall. Keniston felt the unreality of it. The whole scheme now seemed to him mad, harebrained. His big, black mass his hand touched, how could it change the future of a world? He tried to fight down these doubts. The scientists of this latter-day universe, masters of a knowledge far beyond his own, had affirmed the soundness of Arnold theory. That was what had nerve him to start this project, and he must cling to it. It was too late now for questions. He was tired, dead tired. He worked without rest but all through the day. He and Gore Hall and Magro, helping Arnold and his technical crew to load the masses of supplies and incomprehensible equipment necessary for the experiment. The little star cruiser was Arnold's work ship. It had carried him on many research trips throughout the galaxy. And the eager young men of the crew who had worked and dreamed beside Arnold for so long had asked no questions. Whether or not they guessed what the mission was to be, Keniston had no way of knowing. The chief pilot came up to Arnold as the four of them reached the hatchway and their cryptic burden. She's all checked and ready for take-off whenever you are. Arnold nodded. The technical men were taking over the task of loading the energy bomb and making it fast in its shock-proof well. As soon as they're through, said Arnold, he glanced at Keniston and the others with a triumphant smile. In about twenty minutes we'll be on our way. It was then that Keniston saw the jet streams of a flyer drawing a distant curve of flame across the sky coming toward the plateau. The others saw it too. They waited while the technical crew labored swiftly on, and Keniston said, it must be LaLore with a message. Yes, said Arnold, no one else could know we were here. Yet their uneasiness grew as they watched the flyer sweep into a landing. Keniston thought desperately, no one else could know we wouldn't have been followed. He found himself running with the others across the flat surface of the landing field. He saw the figure that stepped out of the flyer. It was not LaLore. It was a man he had never seen, a stocky man with clipped iron-gray hair and a look of authority on his square face. Behind this stranger came Var Nallen, and with her his face a light with triumph was Norden Lund. Keniston stopped, his heart sinking in cold despair. The stocky newcomer stood, surveying with startled, unbelieving eyes the bustle of activity around the cruiser. I wouldn't have thought it was possible, he gasped. Lund, you were right, you could do it without permission. Lund said happily, yes sir, I suspected it, that's why I had them watched, you can see for yourself. And to Keniston and Arnall and the others he said, let me introduce you, this is coordinator Mathis. Var Nallen was standing and looking at them, her face shocked and incredulous in the white glare of the work lights. She looked as though she could not credit what she saw. I didn't believe it, she said, speaking to Keniston slowly. When the coordinator informed me of what Lund had told him what you were doing, I refused to believe it. I came with him to prove that he was wrong. She paused, her blue eyes growing hot, fixed on Keniston. But I was wrong.   Mathis, the coordinator, was looking grimly at John Arnall. You've gone too far this time, Arnall, you know the penalty for breaking Federation law even if this Keniston hasn't learned it yet. Arrest, said Lund softly, arrest and exile for all of them. I hope, sir, you will remember that it was I who exposed this criminal plot after my superior had shown open sympathy for the criminals. I will remember it, Mathis said crisply. Now, advise Vega center of this situation at once. Lund turned to go back to the flyer. Its radio televisor, Keniston knew would put him into instant contact with the government center. He sprang forward in running strides. He caught up to Lund with one hand on the man's shoulder, he spun him around. With the other, he smashed a driving blow at Lund's jaw. Mathis recoiled, horrified by the violence. Varn Allen ran toward Keniston as Lund struggled to get up. Get back, Keniston, she ordered him. You're not on your barbaric world now. You can't... She had no chance to finish. Lund came up fast drawing a small glass weapon from his pocket. He had foreseen Keniston's reaction sufficiently to come armed. Gore Hall's great furry shape loomed up behind the sub-administrator. One huge paw caught the hand with the weapon. The other arm went around Lund's body and lifted him in the air like a child. His powerful fingers tightened. Lund dropped the glass weapon. Let me go, he gasped. I order you. You might have killed someone. Gore Hall rumbled and shook Lund until his teeth rattled. You have no orders for me, little man. He looked around, still holding Lund. What now? Mathis said a little shakily. I demand in the name of the Federation. Nobody paid any attention to his demand and he stopped. Arnold had come up. There was an iron set to his jaw now. We are already liable to penalties for what we have done. Arrest and exile. They can't do much more to us if we go through with it. Are you still game? Yes. He called Barn Allen and Mathis. He said regretfully, I'm sorry you two came. You'll have to go with us now, you and Lund. We can't leave you behind who spread an alarm. Her eyes met his coldly and steadily. It will do you no good. Our disappearance and yours will be noticed very soon. She said nothing more. She glanced once at the flyer and then at the men around her She did not try to escape. Arnold had turned to face his men. He told them, You are not responsible for my plans and you are not yet under any penalty. Therefore you are free to decide now whether or not you will go with me. The chief pilot stepped forward. He was a tall young man with a reckless grin and eyes that were not given to showing fear. I've sweated this tub across the galaxy too many times to quit now," he said. I don't know about the other boys, but I'm going. The others, technicians and crewmen alike shouted ascent. We've worked too long and too hard to throw this chance away. We're with you, Arnold. Arnold's dark eyes effused with a mist that was very much like the tears of gratitude. But his voice rang out like a bugle crying. Then prepare for take-off. The government ships will be after us as soon as the coordinator and Varnallan and Lund are missed and traced. Men began to run toward the Starcruiser. Kinniston went with them, holding tight to Varnallan, with Gore Hall coming after with the squirming, protesting Lund clutched in his great arms. Magro brought the pale-faced Mathis who neither spoke nor resisted. The hatches were shut. The airlock valves clanged into place. As he followed Arnold along a narrow passageway, Kinniston was aware of the swift, ordered confusion that seethed throughout the ship. Warning lights flashed on the bulkheads, bells rang, somewhere, deep in the bowels of the cruiser, machinery jarred into life, settling into a steady humming. Arnold thrust open two doors that faced each other across the passage. Indicating one, he said. I think this is the most comfortable, Administrator Allen. What if we keep the door locked? She went inside without a word. Lund and Mathis were thrust into the opposite cabin, the former still snarling threats. Arnold glanced at the warning lights. All set, he said. Come on. In the cruiser, Kinniston sat dayzedly through the last taught seconds of preparation, feeling all his weariness collapsing upon him. Then a bell rang and the little ship went smoothly skyward. A little sensation of the tremendous acceleration, any more than in the Thanus. He had learned by now of the elastic force stasis that gripped everything in a starship to temper acceleration pressure. As in a dream, Kinniston listened to the banshee scream of atmosphere past the outer hull. Then through the port he saw the great cloudy bulk of Vega IV falling away with slow majesty. And then the sky was gone, replaced by the depthless black vault of space that was hung thick with loops and chains and pendants of blazing suns. He became aware later of Gore Hall's big pause shaking him gently. Come on, Kinniston, you're nearly out. Time to sleep. The big cappellan bore him away bodily to a cabin and rolled him into a bunk. He woke hours later, feeling rusty and still tired from the strain of the past days. He looked out. The cruiser was in deep space now, droning steadily across the mighty gulf that separated it from Earth. Kinniston felt an involuntary thrill. This voyaging in the great interstellar deeps was getting into his blood. He stuck his head in the bridge and found Magro there with the chief pilot. I've been listening with the visor operator, said the spycam. There's been no alarm yet back there. But there will be all of us gone. Yes, and control ships will be after us like hounds. We're not going to have much time on Earth. Kinniston was silent. Then he asked, Where's Arnall? You'll find him down in the bomb compartment. As Kinniston grew up his way down a series of ladders into the compartment where the great bomb brooded in its well that troubling doubt rose again within him. Until now the swiftness of events had crowded it down. But now it seemed suddenly fantastic that he should pin the hopes of Earth's last people to this black thing. It had only been tested once and that test had ended disastrously. But John Arnall sat there in the dim light and smiled a happy, peaceful smile. I've been admiring my child, Kinniston. That seems silly, doesn't it? But I put most of my life into that thing. I've waited. How long I've waited.  It is a dream and it is half a lifetime of toil and it is a power that will revive a world. Kinniston cried out of his haunting doubt. Can this bomb really rekindle Earth's interior heat? How? Arnall said a little helplessly. I know the uncertainty that must oppress you. I'd like to explain my equations. But how can I, without first teaching you all that the ages have brought in new science? He went on.  I will try to make you understand the principle at least. You know that most humans derive their energy from a nuclear reaction that changes four hydrogen atoms into one helium atom by a series of shifting transmutations involving carbon and nitrogen? Kinniston nodded quickly. Yes, that carbon-nitrogen cycle was discovered in my time. Scientists called it the Solar Phoenix. The tiny fraction of atomic weight left over, after the cycle, was the source of solar radiation. Exactly, said Arnall. What you would know is that scientists in the ages since then have succeeded in triggering similar cyclical reactions in other heavier elements. That is the key to my process. Most planets, like your Earth, have a central core of iron and nickel. Now a transformation of iron to nickel in cyclic reaction had been achieved in the laboratory, liberating the energy. I asked myself, why not start that reaction inside a planet? Then it would reproduce the basic solar reaction inside such a planet? Kinniston said incredulously. Not really, for the iron-nickel cycle does not yield such terrific radiation as your Solar Phoenix, Arnall corrected. It would, however, create a giant solar furnace inside a planet and raise the surface temperature of that world by many degrees. Kinniston voiced his worry. There wouldn't be danger of the nuclear reaction bursting through to the surface? It can't burst through, Arnall declared. The cycle can only feed on nickel and iron, and the massive outer sphere of silicon and aluminum around the core would contain the reaction forever. He added, that is why the energy bomb that triggers the reaction must be detonated through the core, and that is why we can quickly start the process on your Earth, because the ancient heat shafts there provide access to the deep core without elaborate preliminary boring. Kinniston nodded. The theories seemed sound enough, and yet he said slowly, but when you tested it before the planet was nearly destroyed by quakes that the convulsion in the core started. Said Arnall wearily, not planet. Haven't I explained that enough times? The mass was insufficient to sustain the blast. He was suddenly angry. Why was I ever full enough to accept that impossible test? But I repeat, Kinniston. I know what I'm doing. The entire College of Science has not been able to find flaws in my equations. You'll have to be content with that. Yes, said Kinniston. Yes, I'll have to be. But as he left Arnall, he could not entirely crush his apprehension. This man-made creation of a solar furnace in the heart of a planet was as monstrous to his mind as the making of fire must have been to the first man. What if, by his faith in John Arnall, he had doomed Earth instead of helping it? One decision came clear in his mind. If there was a possibility that Earth's surface might be ravaged by destructive quakes, no one should remain for the detonation of the bomb who did not do so of his own free will.  She and Lund and Mathis, prisoners against their will, would have to be let go before the great risk was taken. He would give her that reassurance at least. It was a simple combination lock and the dial numbers had been given to all hands in case of necessity. Keniston opened it and went in. She was sitting rather as he had sat that time aboard the Thanos. Her shoulders bent, her gaze brooding on the immensity of space beyond the port. He thought she had not slept from the lines of strain and weariness in her face. She straightened up at once and turned toward him defiantly.  She demanded. The hard anger in her clear eyes awakened answering anger in Keniston. We have not, he said. I came only to tell you that you and Lund and Mathis will be allowed to leave Earth before the thing is done. Do you think I'm worried about my own safety? cried Varn Allen. It's the thousands of your people whom you're endangering by this mad defiance of Federation law. To the devil with Federation law, he said roughly. Her eyes flashed hotly. You'll learn its power. Control ships will speed to Earth before you can even do this thing. Exasperated beyond measure he grabbed her shoulders with a brutal impulse to shake her. Then the totally unexpected happened. Varn Allen began to cry. Keniston's anger melted into distress. She had always seemed so cool and self-contained that it was upsetting to see her in tears. After a moment he clumsily patted her shoulder. I'm sorry, Varn. I know you were trying to help me there at Vega Center, and it must seem to you that I'm ungrateful, but I'm not. It's just that I have to try this thing, or see Middletown's people break their hearts trying to fight your Federation.  He looked down at her, his hands still on her shoulders. She pushed him back. She seemed to avoid his eyes, as she said. I know you're sincere, Keniston, but I know too that this thing is wrong, that you can't successfully defy the power of all the stars. He was strangely depressed when he left her. He tried not to think about it, tried not to remember the touch of her, tried not to recognize the choking emotion that had leaped in him for a moment. That's just insane, he muttered to himself, and there's Carol. He would not go to her again in all the hours and days that the little star-cruiser swept full speed across the galactic void. He was somehow afraid to see her once more. Attention grew in Keniston as the dim red spark of Saul largeened to a sullen sphere. As the cruiser swept in at decelerating speed past the lifeless outer planets, he looked ahead. We must work fast once we're there, John Arno was saying, tautly. He too was showing the strain. Already Federation ships must be on their way here to stop us. Keniston made no answer. That cold, haunting doubt was a deeper shadow on him as he watched the grey blob of old earth grow big ahead. His people were there waiting. What was he bringing to them and their dying planet? New life, or final, ultimate death. End of Chapter 18. Chapter 19 of The City at World's End by Edmund Hamilton This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. The City at World's End. Chapter 19 Middletown Decides With tightening nerves Keniston walked across the dust and desolation of the plain toward the bright dome of New Middletown. Arno was with him and Big Gore Hall. The cold wind as he remembered it and the red, lowering sun with its crown of fire. Perfect! answered Arnoll. Such a world as I have dreamed of for a test! Here they come, said Gore Hall and pointed to the portal. The armed lookouts had recognized Keniston and the big cappellan. Word had gone around and the folk of Middletown were pouring out through the portal to meet them. Within seconds the crowd was around them shouting, all but trampling them in its excitement. He recognized well-known faces, McClain's towering figure shouldered toward him. What happened out there, Keniston? Yeah, what's the verdict? came a cry from beside him. Are they going to let us be? He raised his voice to shout back to the wildly excited crowd. Everybody, go to the plaza! Pass the word around. I'll tell you all about it there. The plaza, the plaza! Some of them began to run back toward the city to cry the news through the streets. Others swarmed around Gore Hall, glad to see him back. They stared curiously at John Arnold, demanding to know who he was, but Keniston shook his head. The story would be hard enough to tell once. He was not going to do it twice. He searched for Carol's face in the crowd. He yearned to see her. And yet deep in his mind somewhere there was a strange reluctance to see her, to face her, and he did not know why this should be so. But she was not there. He should have known she would not have ventured into this excited crowd. Mayor Garrus bustled up to him at the portal, preceding Hubble and a few of the city council. Did you fix things, Keniston? He cried. Did you make them understand out there? Keniston said, I'd like to make my report in the plaza where everyone can hear. The mayor gave him a worried, half-frightened look and fell back. Keniston reached out to take Hubble's hand. I've got to talk to you, Hubble, he said. I've done something, and I don't know. He talked in a rapid undertone to the older scientist as they made their way through the streets. Hubble's reaction was the same as Keniston's had been when the thing had been first broached to him. He recoiled from it. Good God, Ken! It's mad! Dangerous! But as he heard more, his alarm changed to grave attention and then keenest interest. Yet it does sound logical by every principle of our physical science. He looked at John Arnold. If I could only talk clearly to him... It wouldn't do any good, said Keniston grimly. That's the awful part of it. His science is a million years beyond us. Hubble turned to Gore Hall. He had worked beside the big furry cappellan. He knew and trusted his ability as an atomic technician. Hultingly he asked, Will Arnold's process work? Gore Hall answered simply, I believe in it enough to risk my life helping to try it. Keniston translated that and Hubble seemed reassured. It still seems a great gamble, Ken, but I think it's worth it. Soon Keniston had mounted the steps of the building that was City Hall and stood by the microphone. Before him were the gathered thousands of Middletowners, a kaleidoscope of eager faces, excited, waiting. This was the moment he had dreaded. The moment he had thought he could not endure. And it was harder even than he had dreamed, to say the words he must say. There was no use being gentle about it. He told them, almost brutally, The decision is against us. They say we have to go. He listened to the roar that broke out then, the angry cry of a people driven beyond their patience. Mayor Garrus voiced the passionate reaction of all Middletown. We won't leave Earth, and if they want to push it to a fight, they can! Keniston raised his hands begging for quiet. Wait! he shouted into the microphone. Listen! You may not have to go, and you may not have to fight. There's one chance. He told them, as simply and carefully as he could, of John Arnold's great proposed experiment. Earth would be warm again, perhaps not quite as warm as before, but warm enough so that you could live here comfortably for all time to come. There was a long silence. He knew that the concept was too enormous for them to grasp at once. But they were trying to grasp it, trying to equate it with some familiar thing. The planetary scale of it their minds could not hold on to. They struggled for a personal significance they could understand. Finally John Borsak stepped forward, a raw-boned, grizzled man who had spent a lifetime in the mills. Does it mean, Keniston, that we could go back then to Middletown? He answered, Yes. A cheer went up that shook the very walls of the buildings. Back to Middletown! Did you hear that? We could go back to Middletown! Keniston was touched beyond measure. To them the shocking of a planet back to life met primarily one thing, the ability to return to the drab little city in the hills, the city that was still home. He motioned to them again for silence. I have to warn you, this experiment has never been tried on a world like Earth. It's possible that it may fail. If it does, the surface of the Earth may be wrecked by quakes. That gave them pause. Keniston saw the shadow of fear cross their faces, saw how they turned to one another and talked, and shook their heads and looked anxiously back and forth. Finally a voice cried, What do you and Dr. Hubble think? Your scientists, what's your advice? Keniston hesitated. Then he said slowly, If I were alone on Earth, I would try it. But I cannot advise you. You must make your own decision. Hubble said into the microphone, We can't advise you because we don't know ourselves. We are dealing here with the science of this future age, which is far beyond us. We can only take what their scientists tell us on faith. They say that the theory is entirely workable. We have warned you of the possibility of failure. It's up to you to decide how great the risk is and how much you are willing to gamble. Keniston turned and spoke to Mayor Garris. Tell them to think it over carefully. Then call for a vote. Those in favor of trying it to go to one side of the plaza, those against it to the other. Aside to Hubble he said, They should have months to decide a thing like this instead of minutes. Hubble said, It may be just as well. They won't torture themselves with too much waiting and thinking. Mayor Garris talked to the crowd. There was a deepening, seething turmoil in the plaza then as people tried to reach others to gather opinions from each other on what they ought to do. Scraps of heated conversations reached Keniston's ears. These guys from the outside have done pretty well so far getting this city going again. They know what they're doing. I don't know. Suppose it does bring on terrible quakes. Listen, these people know their stuff. They'd have to to live out there in the stars the way they do.   They were as ready as they would ever be. Keniston watched his heart pounding. And beside him John Arnold watched also. Keniston had explained the procedure to him. He knew what Arnold must be going through as he waited while his life's work was weighed in the balance. For a time the motion of the crowd was only a chaotic churning. Then gradually the separating motion came clear. Those for the experiment, to the right side of the plaza, those against it, to the left. The channel between the two factions widened and Keniston saw that on the left were a scant two hundred people. The vote was carried, the experiment was approved. Keniston's knees felt weak. He saw Arnold's face moved almost to tears with relief and joy. He himself was conscious of a wild excitement and yet even now he could not stifle all his fear. They were committed now, he and Arnold and the rest. For life or death they were committed. He spoke again into the microphone. We must do this thing as soon as we can. We have very little time before ships of the Federation will arrive to stop us. You will please, all of you, prepare to leave the city at a moment's notice. As a precaution no one is to remain under the dome when the energy bomb is detonated. Those of you who voted against the experiment will be given a chance to leave Earth before it takes place. The star cruiser can take only part of you so it is suggested that you draw lots for space aboard her. He swung around to the mayor. Will you take over now? Start the work of organizing the departure. We'll need every minute we've got. Hubble said, I think we'd better let John Arnold see the shaft. Arnold's technical crew came in from the ship. They studied the great heat shaft, with Gore-Hald and Magro and Arnold himself, while Keniston and Hubble stood by and watched. Arnold finally said, It'll do, it goes right down to the core. But the similar shafts in the other domed cities here, they'll have to be exploded and sealed first. Keniston was startled. He hadn't thought of that. But that'll take time. No, not so long. A few of my men can whip around to them in the cruiser and do it quickly. Of course, I brought Earth maps, and there are only half a dozen of the domed cities. Keniston asked him, How long will it take to get things ready here? Arnold said, If we perform a miracle, we can be ready by noon to-morrow. Keniston nodded. I'll do my damnedest to help you, and so will everybody here. Just let me have ten minutes first. Ten minutes wasn't much. Not much, for a man who has just been halfway across a universe to spend with his girl. But time was what they didn't have, and inexorable limit was closing down on them every second, and even this little time he took to go to Carol was time-cheated and stolen from the common need. Yet in the face of this terrible decision that had been taken, this thing that they were going to do to Earth, he had to see her, to quiet her fears and reassure her as best he could. He thought she would want to take fright and refuge on the cruiser when the moment came, and he could only hope that he could get her on it. Carol was waiting, as though she had known he would come. And to Keniston's amazement there was no fear in her face. It was bright with eagerness and hope, her eyes lighted in a way he had not seen since the old time. Ken, can it really be done?" she cried. Would it really work, make Earth warmer? We're so sure that we're gambling everything it will, he said. Of course, there's always the chance of failure. She didn't even listen to that. Her hands clutched his arms, her face had a breathless excitement, as she explained. But that doesn't matter. It's worth running any chance if it succeeds, if it lets us go back to Middletown. He saw the mist in her eyes, the hunger, the yearning, as she whispered, just to think of it, of going back to our own town, our own homes, our own people. Keniston understood now. Deep indeed was her homesickness for the old town, for the old way of life, so deep that it had completely conquered the fear she might otherwise have felt. He took her in his arms and kissed her, and touched her hair, and he was thinking, she does love me, but only as a part of a life that's gone. Not me alone, not just John Keniston by himself, but the Keniston of Middletown. And she'll be happy with me again, if we can change our life back a little to what it was. Why did that thought bring no joy? Why must he think of Varn Allen, tired and lonely, and yet courageously facing the wide universe, carrying a burden of duty too heavy for her? Carol was asking him, what was it like, Ken, out there? He shook his head, strange and hostile, and beautiful in a terrible way. She said, I think it changed you a little. I think it would change anybody. And she shivered a little, as though even in the touch of him now was a freezing breath of alien deeps, a taint of unearthly worlds. No, Carol, he said. I'm not changed. But I can't stay now. I have to get back. Every minute is precious. As he hurried back to the others, Keniston saw that New Middletown had become a rushing, surging swirl of excitement. Voice has called to him, hands grabbed to delay him, and tried to reach him with questions. He was glad to rejoin the others around the lip of that great heat shaft. Gore Hall grinned his frightening grin at him. Now get ready to work. For what seemed an eternity, Keniston worked. Machinists and sheet metal workers of Middletown were called in. Every available man and piece of equipment. Great loads were brought in from the ship. Hammers rang with a deafening clamor, shaping metal on improvised forges. Riveting machines gave out their staccato thunder. And gradually, painfully, shaped out of the sweat and effort of their bodies, a scaffolding of steel girders rose above the mouth of the great shaft. Magro labored with the technicians over the complicated and delicate electrophuses and the timing devices and the radio control that from a distance would drop and detonate the charge. Keniston had little time to think of anything but the work. Yet his mind reverted strangely often to Varn Allen, locked in her cabin aboard the cruiser, and he wondered what her thoughts were. Morning came. The city was to be cleared by noon, and the men and women of Middletown were gathering their children in readiness. They would not take much out of the city with them. They would not need much either way. The cryptic black ovoid was wheeled into position by the shaft, and with it were brought four small round objects of a different look. Capper bombs that we made in the ship's laboratory on the way here, explained Arnall, they will drop an instant after the energy bomb and will explode in the shaft just before it detonates below, sealing the shaft to prevent backlash. Keniston watched while the technicians set the capper bombs in their racks, one above the other, inside the frame of girders. The racks would be tripped by electronic relay from the remote control box. Keniston felt an increasing dread as the fateful moment loomed close. His dread was for the trusting thousands of Middletown, who accepted the powers of scientists with the same unquestioning faith with which men had once accepted the powers of wizards. He hoped that, if the experiment were a disastrous failure, he would not survive to know it. A crane had been rigged to handle the energy bomb. The electronics crew were working desperately to finish the intricate wiring of the rack mechanisms, the split-second timing of the relays. One of the cantilever support girders had flawed, and steel workers were sweating away to replace it. A few more hours now, and the thing would be done.  Then one of Arnall's men came running. He had run all the way from the Star Cruiser. He was breathless, and his eyes were wild. He cried out to Arnall, a message on the televisor from a control squadron. They say they are approaching Earth and order us to cease operations at once! End of chapter 19 CHAPTER XX APPOINTMENT WITH DESTINY Keniston felt the impact of the news as a catastrophe crushing all their desperate hopes. He stood sagging, looking at the technicians who stared frozenly back. Like an ominous echo, Varn Allen's warning came back into his mind. You cannot fight Federation law. But John Arnall, raging at seeing the dream of a lifetime threatened at this last moment, rushed forward to the messenger. He grabbed the man's collar. Did you think to use a distance gauge on the message from those ships? The man nodded hastily. Yes, the readings were, the devil with readings! How far from Earth are those ships? I'd estimate that they're three or four hours away if they come at full speed. They'll come at full speed, don't worry, said Arnall grimly. His face was a sweating mask, the bones of it standing out gauntly as he turned to the others. Can we be ready in time? The rack-trip controls are in, answered a technician. It'll take an hour or more to prepare the timers. Keniston had regained a little hope when he heard of the time limit they faced. Surely we can be ready in time, Arnall. I'll start them moving out the people at once. Mayor Bertram Garrus was not far to seek. Round-eyed and pale with worry, the pudgy mayor had been watching their work around the great shaft. Keniston ran up to him. Get the people started out at once, to the ridge of the hills. Only the sick and old to go in cars. The rest must walk. We can't risk a traffic tangle now. Yes, gasped the mayor. Yes, right away. He caught Keniston's arm, looking past him at the black ovoid bulk of the bomb. As though ashamed to show the terror he felt, Garrus stammered, How much danger is there, Keniston? Keniston gave him a reassuring shake. Don't worry! Go along and get those people out of the city. He wished he could find reassurance himself. The next hours were nightmarish, working under pressure, grudging every second, it seemed that everything conspired against them. The metal, the mechanisms, the very tools seemed determined to betray them. And yet, at last, the dark shape of the energy bomb swung in its rack over the mouth of the shaft. The last of the timers was set, and it was done. Get your equipment ready, Keniston told them thoughtly. Let's go. There's still a lot to be done. There was trouble and Arnold in the rest. The city was, as he had first seen it, empty, still, lifeless. The people had gone. As he passed out the portal, he could see the dark, trailing mass of them already far across the plain, the thousands streaming slowly up the slope of the distant ridge. Anxiously he scanned the sky. There was no sign yet of the control squadron. Arnold sent his technical crew ahead to the ridge, with the remote control mechanisms and recording instruments. Gore Hall and Magro and Hubble went with them. Then Keniston and Arnold ran toward the star cruiser. There was a little knot of people standing beside it in the dust and cold, the Middletowners who were leaving Earth. Keniston stared at them in amazement. Out of the two hundred, only a score had actually come to the cruiser. Arnold told them curtly, You can come aboard now. A few of them picked up their bundles and stood, irresolutely, glancing from their companions to Keniston and back, wanting to speak. Then they turned and went aboard. Keniston counted. Two men, three women, and a child. Well, he snapped at those who were left. What are you waiting for? Get aboard! I guess, said one man, and then stopped to clear his throat. I guess I'd rather stay with all the rest. He grabbed his bundle and started away, hurrying after the distant crowd. Another and another followed him until all were gone, a small hastening group in the immense desolation of the plane. Arnold smiled.  It must be even harder, in some ways, for those who have decided to go. They entered the cruiser and released Mathis and Norden Lund and Varn Allen from their locked cabins. Varn Allen did not speak, but the coordinator said, icily, so you are really going to do it. We are, said Arnold. My chief pilot is about to take this ship off. You'll be safe. Norden Lund said bitterly, I hope it blows you all to fragments, but even if it doesn't, even if it succeeds, you won't win. You'll still have Federation law to face. We'll see to that. I don't doubt it, and now we must go. He turned, but Keniston paused, still looking at Varn Allen. Her face was a little pale, but in it was no such anger as Lund's. She was looking at him with a searching, level gaze. He wanted to speak to her, he wanted to voice something that was in him, but he could find no words. He could only say, finally, I'm sorry things had to be this way, Varn. Goodbye. Wait, Keniston. He stopped, and she came up to him, pale and calm. Her blue eyes very steady on his face. She said, I'm staying here while you do this thing.  And he heard Mathis exclaim, Are you mad? What are you thinking of? She told Mathis slowly, I am administrator of this world sector. If my mistakes have caused this crisis, I will not evade its consequences. I will stay. Lund cried to Mathis. She's not thinking of her responsibility. She's thinking of this primitive, this Keniston. She turned as though to make furious reply. But she did not speak. She looked instead at Keniston, her face white and strained. Mathis was saying to her coldly, I will not order you to come with us, but be sure that your conduct will be remembered when your fitness for office is re-examined. She bowed silently to that, and turned and went out of the ship. And Keniston, following her, felt a wondering, incredulous emotion that he dared not let himself recognize. They stepped out into the red sunlight, and with a soft humming, the cruiser mounted into the sky and was lost to view. The last dark trailing mass of people was disappearing over the ridge as Keniston and Varnallan and Arnold started that way. Hurry, urged Arnold, even yet we might be too late. When they reached the ridge, Gore-Hull and Magro and Hubbell were waiting there with the young technicians and their apparatus, and Gore-Hull uttered a rumbling exclamation when he saw them. He thought you'd stay, Varn. Her head went up and she said half angrily, but why should you—she stopped abruptly and was silent a moment, then asked, How soon? We're all set now, the big cappella answered. Keniston saw that the radio control box and the panels of strange instruments were ready. He glanced at Arnold. The scientist's face was filmed with sweat. All the color had gone from it, and his hand shook. In this moment he was facing the climax of his whole life, all the years and the pain and the effort. He said in a strangely toneless voice, You'd better warn them, Keniston, now. Below them, on the far slope of the ridge, waited the thousands of Middletown's people. Keniston went down toward them. He cried out to them and his voice carried thin and unreal on the chill wind across the dead rocks and the dust. Keep down behind the ridge! Pass the word to keep down! We're going to blow it! They looked toward him, all the masked white faces pale in the dim light of the sun, the dying sun that watched them with its red, uncaring eye. A great silence fell upon them. By ones and twos and then by hundreds they knelt to pray, and others by the hundreds stood on speaking, looking solemnly upward to the crest of the ridge. Here and there a child began to cry. Slowly, gripped as in a strange and fateful dream, Keniston mounted again to where Arnall and the others stood. Far beyond them he saw the dome of the city, still glowing with light as they had left it, lonely in the vast barrenness of the plain. He thought of the black thing waiting alone in the city to make its nightmare plunge and a deep tremor shook him. He reached out and took Varnallan's hand. In that last minute before Arnall's fingers pressed the final pattern on the control board, Varnallan looked past Keniston, down at the silent, waiting thousands who were the last of all the races of old earth. I see now, she whispered, that in spite of all we have gained since your day we have lost something too. A courage, a blind brave something, I'm glad I stayed. Arnall drew a sharp and painful breath. It is done, he said. For a long, eternal moment the dead earth lay unsteering. Then Keniston felt the ridge leap under his feet, once, twice, four times, the sharp grinding shocks of the capper bombs sealing the great shaft. Arnall watched the quivering needles of the dials. He had ceased his trembling now. It was too late for anything, even emotion. Deep, deep within the buried core of the earth, a trembling was born, a dilating shudder that came slowly upward to the barren rocks and touched them and was gone. It was as though a dead heart had suddenly started to beat again, to beat strongly, exultantly, a planet reborn. The pointers on the panel of dials had gone quite mad. Gradually they quivered back to normal. All but one row of them, at which Arnall and his crew stared with intensity. Keniston could bear the terrible silence no longer. Has it? His voice trailed away into hoarseness. Arnall turned very slowly toward him. He said, as though it was difficult for him to speak. Yes. The reaction is begun. There is a great flame of warmth and life inside earth now. It will take weeks for that warmth and life to creep up to the surface, but it will come. He turned his back then, on Keniston, on all of them. What he had to say was for the tired, waiting young men who had labored with him so long. He said to them, Here, on this little earth, long ago, one of our savage ancestors kindled a world. And there are all the others, all the cold, dying worlds out there. Keniston heard no more. A babble had broken loose. Varn Allen was clinging to him, and Gore Hall was shouting, deafeningly, and he heard the stammering questions of Mayor Garrus and Hubble's shaking voice. Overall came the surge of thousands of feet. The thousands of Middletown were coming up the slope, scrambling, running, a life-or-death question on their white faces. Tell them, Ken, said Hubble, his voice thick. Keniston stood upon the ridge, and the crowd below froze tensely silent as he shouted down to them, It has succeeded! All danger is over, and in weeks the heat of the core will begin to reach the surface. He stopped. Those were not the words that could reach their hearts. Then he found those words, and he called them to the thousands. It has been chill winter on earth for a million years, but now, soon, spring is coming back to earth. Spring! They could understand that. They began to laugh and to weep, and then to shout and shout. They were still shouting when the great control cruisers came humming swiftly down from the sky. End of Chapter 20 CHAPTER XXI WAKING WORLD Slowly, slowly, during all these weeks, the spring had come. It was not the spring of old earth, but every day the wind blew a little more softly, and now at last the first blades of grass were pushing upward, touching the ochre plains with green. But only by hearsay did Keniston know of that. Confined with the others in a building of New Middletown, it had seemed to him that the time would never end. The weeks of waiting for the special committee of governors to come from Vega, the weeks of the hearing itself, the slow gathering of testimony and careful sifting of motives, all the days they had waited for the final verdict. Arnold was not worried. He was a happy man. He said very little, but he had had a triumph in his eyes all through the hearing. His life work was justified, and he was content. Nor were Gore Hall and Magro worried. The big cappellan, even now when they waited the decision, was still jubilant. Hell, what can they do? He said to Keniston for the twentieth time, the thing's done. The Arnold process is proved practicable, and by now the whole galaxy knows of it. They can't refuse now to let the humanoids' dying worlds make use of it. They wouldn't dare. Magro added, nor can they force your people to evacuate Earth now that it is getting warmer. It wouldn't make sense. Keniston said, they can keep us locked up for the rest of our lives, and I wouldn't enjoy that. Gore Hall grinned widely at him. Remember, man, we're only emotional primitives, and they'll have to make allowances for that. When they were led back into the big room for the verdict, Keniston's eyes swung, not to the group of three men and a humanoid that sat behind the table, but to Varnallan. He knew that her own career was at stake in this hearing.  Lund, beside her, looked alert and faintly worried now. He shot a hard glance at Keniston, but Keniston had to turn his gaze as the reading of the verdict began. The aging man who read it, the oldest of the four governors, had no friendliness in his face. He spoke as one who reluctantly performs an unpleasant duty. You, the ring-leaders in this thing, have rendered yourselves liable to the extremist penalties of Federation law by your direct defiance of the governors, he said. It would be quite in order to direct a sentence of life imprisonment. He looked down at them coldly, Gore Hall whispered, just trying to scare us. But he did not sound very confident now. The old governor continued, but in this case it is quite impossible to reach a verdict on purely legalistic grounds. We must admit that your fate accompli has created a new situation. The Board of Governors has now given approval to the use of the Arnold process in certain other planets. Keniston found it hard, hard to realize, that a long great battle for the survival of worlds was ending in these phrases. On certain other planets, and that presents us with a legal impasse. To punish you now for your use of it here would be morally, if not legally, punishing you for infraction of a no longer existing law. Gore Hall uttered such a long and noisy exhalation of relief that he was promptly glared into silence. We are unable, therefore, to do other than dismiss you with the official reprimand of the Board of Governors for your behavior. Now that the moment had come, now that it was over, Keniston found that he felt very little emotion after all. The issues had been so vast that they had dwarfed his personal fate. He knew that that feeling would pass, that later he would be glad and thankful. But now... The Governor, though, had not finished. He was speaking directly now to Vaarn Allen. Over and above the main issue there remains the conduct of the responsible officials in dealing with it. To express official censure of what appears to be inexcusable bungling of a psychological problem by the Administrator in charge. And... Here he looked toward Northern Lund. And, on the part of the Sub-Administrator, obvious attempts to hamper his superior for selfish reasons. The cold voice ended with the brief hard phrases, We recommend, for Administrator Allen, demotion one grade. For a Sub-Administrator Lund, demotion one grade. This hearing is concluded. Keniston looked across the big room at Vaarn Allen. Her face had not changed, and silently she turned to go. Gore Hall was slapping him mightily on the back. Magro was saying something excitedly, but he wrenched away from them and went after her. She saw him coming and waited. But Northern Lund was between them.   Vaarn Allen cut in contemptuously.  He turned and strode away from them. Vaarn Allen, looking after him, sighed and said, You have made a deadly enemy. He was not thinking of that. He waited until she turned back toward him, and he asked, Are you my enemy too, for what I've done to you?  No, that was not your doing. In a new and confused situation, I failed. That is all.  He burst out. They were unfair to you! You did your best! And it wasn't quite good enough. She finished. And then she smiled a little at him. It's not a tragedy. An administrator's burden is not easy. I shall not be entirely sorry. He had never admired her courage so much as now. He wanted to say so. He wanted to say so many things. But she turned away from him a little and said, This is a great day for you, Keniston. For this is the day when they are allowing those of your people who wish to, to return to your old town. Yes, I heard that it was today. And you will be going back there with your Carol? She will be very happy. He said, Varn, but she would not face him. She said, This is not good-bye. You'll come back before we leave Earth. He stood, oppressed by emotions he could not define, and finally he said, Yes, yes, I'll come back before then. She left, and he looked after her until she was gone. Then, slowly, he went back through the big empty hall and out through the building into the street. A tremendous, brassy clamor and uproar hit him in the face. The plaza was crowded, but a wide lane was opened through the crowd to the boulevard that led to the portal. And the Middletown High School band, brave for the occasion in its retrieved scarlet uniforms, with its drum-majorettes prancing and horns bladding and cymbals banging and big drums booming, was marching through the lane toward the portal.  And behind his car rolled a long line of other cars, the ancient jalapes, the shining station wagons, the family sedans, crowded with excited men and sobbing women, the first of the long caravan forming up to go back to Old Middletown. Kinniston saw the cheering people who surrounded John Arnold and Hubble and Gore-Hall and Magro nearby. He knew that he would be drawn into that group, and he went back and circled around the plaza, going by temporarily abandoned streets to the quarters of Carol and her aunt.  Oh, Ken, then you're free! They said it would be today, and I was waiting and hoping. Yes, it's all done with, he said. He stood, not knowing quite what to say to her until Mrs. Adams came up. Then we can leave here now, like the others, Mrs. Adams said anxiously. We can go back to Middletown now. Just as soon as you can pack up and I can get the jeep, he said. I've been packed for days, she told him. I wouldn't stay in this unearthly place one minute longer than I have to. Just imagine, they tell me a lot of the young people are going to stay here from choice. They say they like it better than Middletown now. Keniston felt a curious sense of unreality as he got the jeep, and he packed their things into it and then joined the slow, bottlenecked traffic that was now steadily rolling out of the domed city. Could it all be ending like this? Could it be true that he was going back to the old town, the old life, after all that he had done and seen? Down the wide boulevard between the lofty white towers, through the portal, out from underneath the dome. The red sun still shone dully, but a softer wind than earth had felt for a million years was blowing across the plain, stirring the timid little shoots of new grass, bringing a breath of warm new life. Cars ahead of them and cars behind them, rolling toward the ridge, eager for sight of the old city. And now they were passing John Arnold's small cruiser, and then the tightened black bulks of the great starships, brooding upon the plain, wrapped in the majesty of giants who knew the secrets of infinity. He looked back at the great ships, and he thought of the vast, starshot spaces wither they would go, and then he looked on ahead. And at last the eager cars topped the ridge and went hurrying joyously down into old Middletown. All along the familiar streets, houses were already beginning to come to life. Shudders flung open, storm windows raised, doors standing wide to the soft wind, women busy with brooms on dust-drifted porches. The shrill voices of children and barking of dogs mingle with the noisy impatience of the auto-horns. Down Mill Street to Main Street and on, finally, the old gray house just as they had left it. Keniston stopped the jeep at the curb. Mrs. Adams got out. She went slowly up the steps and unlocked the door. She stood for a moment, looking in. Nothing has changed, she whispered, but all this dust I'll have to clean.  Carol did not go in at once, feeling an odd sense of strain, Keniston asked, Are you happy too, Carol? She nodded, half smiling, looking out along the awakening street. Yes, Ken, he said. Well, I want to return to New Middletown to see Gore and the others before they leave, but I'll be back soon. She looked at him now and she said, No, Ken, don't come back to me. He stared at her, astonished. Carol, what do you mean? Her soft face was quite steady. I mean that you don't altogether belong here now, Ken. You changed when you went out there. You'll change more in the days ahead. We'll turn more and more toward the strange new life. She added, And I can't change, not like that. You'd be miserable with me, clinging to the old things. He knew she spoke the truth, and yet he must protest. But the plans we made together, Carol, she shook her head. I made those plans with another man, a man who isn't quite here anymore and won't ever be here again. She reached up and kissed him, and then she went inside and closed the door. Keniston stood a moment, hesitating. Then, slowly, he climbed back into the jeep and drove out of Middletown. From the ridge he could see again the starships that rested on the plain by the domed city, and the city itself still lived. It was the younger folk of Middletown who had chosen to stay in it, the young in mind who could still look forward to the new. The starships would continue to come, now that Earth was habitable again. The people of far stars would mingle with the people of Middletown, men here would go out to other suns and gradually the whole strange story of Middletown would be absorbed into the stream of history. Keniston sent the jeep speeding toward the domed city. He felt now a sense of new freedom and a deep gratitude toward Carol, who had not tried to hold him back. But he felt too an uncertainty, a shrinking. Vast new horizons stretched before him now, the boundless horizons of space, the endless avenues of new thought. He was still a child of older Earth, and it would be strange and lonely. He found the others still in the plaza talking together, Gore Hall and Magro and Arnall, and with them Varn Allen. They saw him, Gore waved and bawled to him. As he drove toward them, he saw Varn Allen's eager eyes awaiting him, and he knew suddenly that he was wrong, and that in all the strangeness of the years to come he would not be alone. The End of The City at World's End by Edmund Hamilton