l fatigue, dissociation of its nerve
paths, emotionalism which rejects logic as "too difficult", mass idiocy
and relapse to barbarism.... It is by our brains, it is by this highest
evolution of matter that we have built this civilization of ours; and
now our own brainchild proceeds with might and with main to destroy the
very organ of its creation. Is that not irony supreme?

"Now we have The Brain, this truly superlative tool of 20,000 times
human capacity. All we have to do now is to submit the various societies
which nature has built: insect states, other animal states, Man and his
state to the analysis of The Brain. Have their good and their bad
features tested and compared. Let The Brain synthesize all the
beneficial components, let it shape the pattern of a new civilization
more enduring and better adapted to the nature of Man. And then abide by
the laws which The Brain lays down. I need your aid, Lee. You have
already made one most valuable contribution to "peace on earth" with
your "_Ant-termes-pacificus_". This is your big chance to continue the
good work; be with us, be our man."

In silence both men stood close to each other, eyes searching. All Oona
Dahlborg could hear was their heavy breathing. Instinctively she crossed
her fingers; never before to her knowledge had Scriven opened his mind
with such reckless abandon--and to a perfect stranger at that. Her
respect for the strange, the birdlike man from Down-Under skyrocketed.

"He really must be a great man," she thought, and, "Howard and he will
be either fast friends or very violent enemies."

At last Lee's voice came, husky and highpitched with emotion: "I cannot
conceive of a man-made superhuman intelligence. Neither can I believe
that mankind could or should be _forced_ into its happiness by an
intelligent machine. But that's besides the point ... the idea is
grandiose. It has the sponsorship of the government. You say that The
Brain needs me. That makes it a duty; so here I am."

He stretched out his hand and felt the cautiously eager grip of the
surgeon's sensitive fingers. The great man beamed. "Good," he said, "I
knew you would. Oona, like a good girl--the glasses, yours too. This
really deserves a toast."

The girl stepped between the two men. Handing Lee his glass she said:
"Today you may follow only the call of duty; tomorrow it will be the
call of love. I've never met any man who has not fallen in love with his
work for The Brain."

"I t