, I'll fight you with every resource I have."

There was a fanatical, almost murderous, look in Bill Myers' eyes.
Benson put the notebook in his pocket, then laughed and threw up his
hands.

"Hey, Joe! Hey, Joe!" he cried. "You're right, of course, Bill. We can't
even trust the UN with a thing like this. It makes the H-bomb look like
a stone hatchet.... Well, I'll call Grant, at the plant lab, and see how
his boys are coming along with the substitute; as soon as we get it, we
can put out a confidential letter to all our distributors and
syrup-manufacturers...."

* * * * *

He walked alone in the garden at Carondelet, watching the color fade out
of the sky and the twilight seep in among the clipped yews. All the
world could be like this garden, a place of peace and beauty and quiet,
if only.... All the world _would_ be a beautiful and peaceful garden, in
his own lifetime! He had the means of making it so!

Three weeks later, he murdered his friend and partner, Bill Myers. It
was a suicide; nobody but Fred Benson knew that he had taken fifty CC of
pure Ingredient Beta in a couple of cocktails while listening to the
queer phonograph record that he had played half an hour before blowing
his brains out.

The decision had cost Benson a battle with his conscience from which he
had emerged the sole survivor. The conscience was buried along with Bill
Myers, and all that remained was a purpose.

Evri-Flave stayed on the market unaltered. The night before the national
election, the World Sovereignty party distributed thousands of gallons
of Evri-Flave; their speakers, on every radio and television network,
were backgrounded by soft music. The next day, when the vote was
counted, it was found that the American Nationalists had carried a few
backwoods precincts in the Rockies and the Southern Appalachians and one
county in Alaska, where there had been no distribution of Evri-Flave.

The dreams came back more often, now that Bill Myers was gone. Benson
was only beginning to realize what a large fact in his life the
companionship of the young psychologist had been. Well, a world of peace
and beauty was an omelet worth the breaking of many eggs....

He purchased another great tract of land near the city, and donated it
to the UN for their new headquarters buildings; the same architects and
landscapists who had created the estate at Carondelet were put to work
on it. In the middle of what was to