gun to demonstrate the existence of whole orders of
structure below the level of nuclear particles.

There was Suzanne Maillard, her gray hair upswept from a face that had
never been beautiful but which was alive with something rarer than mere
beauty: she possessed, at the brink of fifty, a charm and smartness that
many women half her age might have envied, and she knew more about
cosmic rays than any other person living.

And Adam Lowiewski, his black mustache contrasting so oddly with his
silver hair, frantically scribbling equations on his doodling-pad, as
though his racing fingers could never keep pace with his brain, and
explaining them, with obvious condescension, to the boyish-looking
Japanese beside him. He was one of the greatest of living mathematicians
by anybody's reckoning--_the_ greatest, by his own.

And Sir Neville Lawton, the electronics expert, with thinning red-gray
hair and meticulously-clipped mustache, who always gave the impression
of being in evening clothes, even when, as now, he was dressed in faded
khaki.

And Heym ben-Hillel, the Israeli quantum and wave-mechanics man, his
heaping dinner plate an affront to the Laws of Moses, his white hair a
fluffy, tangled chaos, laughing at an impassively-delivered joke the
English knight had made.

And Rudolf von Heldenfeld, with a thin-lipped killer's mouth and a
frozen face that never betrayed its owner's thoughts--he was the
specialist in magnetic currents and electromagnetic fields.

And Farida Khouroglu, the Turkish girl whom MacLeod and Karen had found
begging in the streets of Istanbul, ten years ago, and who had grown up
following the fortunes of the MacLeod Team on every continent and in a
score of nations. It was doubtful if she had ever had a day's formal
schooling in her life, but now she was secretary of the Team, with a
grasp of physics that would have shamed many a professor. She had grown
up a beauty, too, with the large dark eyes and jet-black hair and
paper-white skin of her race. She and Kato Sugihara were very much in
love.

A good team; the best physics-research team in a power-mad,
knowledge-hungry world. MacLeod thought, toying with the stem of his
wineglass, of some of their triumphs: The West Australia Atomic Power
Plant. The Segovia Plutonium Works, which had got them all titled as
Grandees of the restored Spanish Monarchy. The sea-water chemical
extraction plant in Puerto Rico, where they had worked for Associated
Enter