ow
to stop The Brain.

* * * * *

At 7:30 a.m. as Lee lay half dressed but sleepless on his bed, there
came a buzz over the phone. The voice was Oona's and she was excited.
"Howard wants to talk to you." Before he could say a word there was
Scriven on the wire: "Lee? There has been an accident down in that
region where we went the other night. You know what I mean. It's
serious; it concerns a friend of yours. We've got to go there
immediately. Please join me three minutes from now down in the car."

It was obvious that the great Scriven had known as little sleep that
night as had Lee himself. The leonine face looked worried, there were
deep bags under his eyes; his sensitive fingers kept pounding the knees
of his crumpled suit. To Lee's questions he answered only with an
impatient shaking of his head. "I do not know myself exactly what has
happened and how it could happen. But I'm afraid Lee that your friend is
dead."

"Gus," Lee felt a lump coming into his throat, and then they raced on in
silence.

Down in the depth of the Thorax everything outwardly appeared quite
normal. They hurriedly passed the controls and an electric train carried
them over the line of the Full-automatic "C.P.S." (Critical
Parts-Factories) until it stopped at the steel gate marked "Y." A group
of guards with submachine guns were standing there and Lee noted the
deadly pallor of their faces.

Scriven motioned them to open the gate, then, turning to Lee, he put a
hand on his shoulder. "Brace yourself; this is going to be bad."

They entered; nobody followed and behind them the steel door closed
immediately. Inside there was neither sound nor motion; everything was
at a standstill with the power cut off; nothing but silence and bluish
neon-lights flooded down upon the rows of punch presses, multiple
drills, circular saws, and turret lathes along the assembly line,
lifting their every detail into sharp relief.

At their posts by the machines the Gogs and Magogs were standing, frozen
in motion like their fellow-machines. Some had their hands at the
controls, others were holding wrenches, gauges and strange, nameless
things. As they leaned forward from the shadows into the cone of strong
lights the pale selen-cells of their eyes stood out like bits from a
full moon; their bulging shoulders which housed the powerful motors of
their simian arms glittered moist as if they were sweating at their
work.

And then