Pete Barker,
one of the technicians.

[Illustration]

"What you want down there?" bawled Mattup.

"Just left my cap by the control room," said Uncle Pete, "and thought
I'd go get it."

"You keep the hell away from there," grunted Mattup.

Uncle Pete stopped and stood gazing up at us. We went on playing. It was
the last card of the hand, and would either win the game for Mattup or
lose it for him. Orley slapped his card down; it was a crucial card, the
jack. Danny took it with a queen and Mattup had lost the game.

I felt like clearing out. Mattup's face was purple and his eyes looked
like wolves' eyes. He glared at Danny, making a noise in his throat, and
then I saw his gaze leave Danny and go to something down by the reactor.

It was Uncle Pete, shuffling along toward the control room.

Mattup didn't say a word. He stood up and unholstered the thing the
Outsiders had given him and pointed it at Uncle Pete. There was a
ringing in our ears and Uncle Pete began to twist. Something inside him
twisted him, twisting inside his arms, his legs, head, trunk, even his
fingers. It was only for a few seconds. Then the ringing stopped, and
Uncle Pete sunk to the ground, and there was the silence and the smell.

Mattup made us leave the body there until we had played two more hands.
Danny won one; he was a man with good nerves. When we were back in our
room he said, "That did it--I'm going to get that guy."

"I hate his big thick guts," I said, buttoning my pajama shirt, "but how
are you going to get him?"

"I'll get him," said Danny. "Meanwhile, we'll keep playing cards."

Things went on almost normally at the Bayless reactor. It was a
privately-owned pool-type reactor, and we were sent samples of all sorts
of material for irradiation from all over the country. Danny was one of
the irradiation men; I generally handled controlling. The Outsiders had
filled the place with telescreens and guards, and all mail was opened,
but there was no real interference with the work. I began to worry a
little about Danny. Almost every afternoon he spent an hour alone in our
room, with the door closed.

Mattup kept getting worse; an animal with power. He used to go hunting
with the damnable Outsider weapon, although the meat killed with it
wasn't fit to eat, and he used it on birds until there wasn't one left
anywhere near the plant. He never killed a bluebird, though. He said it
was bad luck. Sometimes he drank moonshine corn liquor,