it could have built us a better
world."

Nobody stopped him as he joined a group of firemen who had just returned
from the parietal region, partly gassed; he looked as begrimed and as
green in the face as any of them.

Nobody stopped him or his group as orders came through for them to
evacuate; as they were packed on glideways first and then transferred
down at Grand Central into ambulances which raced through all controls
at a great rate of speed.

Nobody stopped him at Cephalon airport where the ambulance jetticopters
already were lined up to lift the victims over the Sierra to big West
Coast hospitals. He simply walked away in the confusion, out of the red
glare of the whirling jets into the darkness where Oona's little
jetticopter stood. He stripped the heavy asbestos suit and left it on
the frozen ground. It felt strange to feel the easy movement of every
limb again. It was strange to stand under the infinity of sky again; a
free man.

Would he be followed? He felt no anxiety about that. He felt that he was
guided and protected by some higher power, be it that of God or simply
Fate. What he had done was destined, was ordained. Besides: Dad knew the
inside story about The Brain; proof was abundant now that it was the
truth. Washington would take every precaution that the secret should not
become known to the world. Dad's friend, the Secretary of War, would be
rather relieved to learn that the one man who knew the truth in its
whole extent had retired into the wilderness of Australia's never-never
lands. Chances were excellent that they would leave him alone amongst
his termite mounds. A great wave of nostalgia swept over him--the
wilderness; that was where he belonged. "Mission completed," he
murmured. "Now let's get out of here."

He slid into the pilot seat and pressed the starter button. "I'll be in
Mexico City at dawn," he thought, "just in time to catch the
Sidney-Clipper."

* * * * *

On the first of December, 1960, Dr. Howard K. Scriven, Braintrust Czar,
held a historic press conference in which he revealed the inside story
behind the "Paranoia of The Brain".

Following the pattern set by the Bikini tests, only a select score of
press and radio representatives were admitted. Having been duly sworn
not to reveal any matter of military secrecy, the participants could
even be received at the grand assembly hall of the murals, the vast
antechamber of The Brain.

As the