ng excitement. A spark of the old fierceness had come into his
blunted pale-blue eyes as he swung around.

"Before this morning's incident I would have considered all this as a
raving maniac's gibberish. Now as I put two and two together I can see a
distinct possibility that you've got something. Tell you what I'll
do--what I consider my duty to do--I'll call out the National Guard.
We'll encircle The Brain and present an ultimatum to the thing. If
necessary we'll take the place by storm."

The younger Lee answered with a vigorous shaking of his head.

"You cannot do that, Father. In the first place the National Guard
doesn't stand a chance against the defences of The Brain. In the second
place your action would mean civil war. No, we must go after this in a
different manner. The Secretary of War is an old friend of yours. All
right: take the next plane to Washington. Don't tell him anything he
couldn't believe. Tell him--what is strictly the truth--that some power
hostile to the United States threatens to interfere with the remote
control of automatic war equipment. Tell him to redouble guard over the
remote-control rocket launchers, to have their automatic computators
disconnected temporarily and for the commanders to accept only orders
direct from Washington. The greatest danger is not the domestic
disorders; that situation we'll have in hand if my scheme works. But let
one rocket accidentally be launched into some big foreign capital and it
will set the whole world on fire in an Atomic war. That is what The
Brain wants, that is what must be prevented at all costs. Will you do
that, Father?"

Even years after Lee never understood just what had happened or how it
could have happened that his position to his father became reversed with
such startling suddenness. In the extremity of the situation he had
addressed his father with the authority of of a commander toward one of
his aids--and the father had accepted the son's command unquestioningly.

"Semper," he had said, "I have always considered you a military
nincompoop. I was mistaken, son, I apologize. Now let me grab my hat and
coat. You kept the taxi waiting? Good: tell the man to go to the
airport, and let her rip."

* * * * *

At 5 p.m. the Flying Greyhound dropped on Cephalon airport and there was
Oona looking very pale, but very beautiful in the gathering dusk. She
grabbed Lee by the arm leading him to the other side of the