e
another man had listened and had made available his fortune to continue
the experiments. Blind luck and human curiosity ... perhaps even the
madness of a human dream ... and from those things had come this great
ship, this mighty power, these many bulking pieces of equipment that
would perform wonders never guessed at less than a year ago.

Greg Manning swiveled his chair. "Well, Russ, we're ready to begin.
Let's get Wrail first."

Russ nodded silently, his mind still half full of fleeting thought.
Absent-mindedly he knocked out his pipe and pocketed it, swung around to
the manual of the televisor. His fingers reached out and tapped a
pattern.

Callisto appeared within the screen, leaped upward at them. Then the
surface of the frozen little world seemed to rotate swiftly and a dome
appeared.

The televisor dived through the dome, sped through the city, straight
for a penthouse apartment.

Ben Wrail sat slumped in a chair. A newspaper was crumpled at his feet.
In his lap lay a mangled dead cigar.

"Greg!" yelled Russ. "Greg, there's something wrong!"

Greg leaped forward, stared at the screen. Russ heard his smothered cry
of rage.

In Wrail's forehead was a tiny, neatly drilled hole from which a single
drop of blood oozed.

"Murdered!" exclaimed Russ.

"Yes, murdered," said Greg, and there was a sudden calmness in his
voice.

Russ grasped the televisor control. Ranthoor's streets ran beneath them,
curiously silent and deserted. Here and there lay bodies. A few shop
windows were smashed. But the only living that stirred was a dog that
slunk across the street and into the shadows of an alley.

Swiftly the televisor swung along the streets. Straight into the screen
clanked a marching detail of government police, herding before them a
half dozen prisoners. The men had their hands bound behind their backs,
but they walked with heads held high.

"Revolution," gasped Russ.

"Not a revolution. A purge. Stutsman is clearing the city of all who
might be dangerous to him. This will be happening on every other planet
where Chambers holds control."

Perspiration ran down Russ's forehead and dripped into his eyes as he
manipulated the controls.

"Stutsman is striking first," said Greg, calmly ... far too calmly.
"He's consolidating his position, possibly on the pretense that plots
have been discovered."

A few buildings were bombed. A line of bodies were crumpled at the foot
of a steel wall, marking the spot