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Updated: June 22, 2025
Arcot's face was white once more as he thought of the danger he had run, of the terrible consequences possible of that 'amusement. "I think we had best start on the ship. I'll go get some sleep now, and then we can go." Arcot led the way to the ship, while Torlos, Morey and Wade and Stel Felso Theu accompanied him.
A little knot of watchers broke, and they fled in terror as the great machine approached, crying out to their friends, casting affrighted glances at the huge, shining monster behind them. Without a jar the mighty weight of the ship touched the soil of its native planet, touched it fifty millenniums before it was made, five hundred centuries before it left! Arcot's brow furrowed.
Then he strapped himself in and fell asleep almost at once. Still more hours passed, then Arcot was waking slowly to insistent shaking by Morey. "Hey! Arcot! Wake up! Arcot's ears sent the message to his brain, but his brain tried to ignore it. At last he slowly opened his eyes. "Huh?" he said in a low, tired voice. "Thank God! I didn't know whether you were alive or not.
That, coupled with the exhaustion of working under four gravities, as they had while the ship was going through the storm, was enough to make them sleep soundly. Arcot had awakened before the others and had turned on the drive after resetting their course. After that was done, there was little to do, and time began to hang heavily on Arcot's hands.
The pith of all Burke's Indian policy, the text upon which all his splendid sermons of Indian administration were preached, is to be found in one single sentence of the famous speech on the Nabob of Arcot's debts. In that single sentence the whole of Burke's theory of government is summed up with the directness of an epigram and with the authority of a law.
It was Arcot's gift of the secret of the molecular ray and the molecular ship that had enabled them to overcome their enemy of centuries, and force upon them an unwelcome peace. Now, with a fleet of fifty interstellar, or better, intergalactic battleships, Nansal was coming to Earth's aid. The battleships were now on patrol with all of Earth's and Venus' fleet.
He was back in a few minutes carrying a small handbag. "I can go. This keeps me in communication with my ship." Arcot adjusted his weight to zero and floated lightly out the doorway. He rose about six feet above the landing, then indicated to Torlos that he was to grasp Arcot's feet, one in each hand. Torlos closed a grip of steel about each ankle and stepped off the platform.
As the ship flew high above the Transcontinental plane, the men discussed the economic values of the different applications of Arcot's discoveries from the huge power stations they could make, to the cooling and ventilating of houses.
Instantly, Arcot's hand went to a switch. A relay slammed open, and the ray projector died. The power coil still held its field of enigmatic blackness. "Watch this," Arcot instructed. Under his expert manipulation, a small robot handler rolled into the room. It had a pair of pliers clutched in one claw.
The rocks rolled and bounced down the mountainside, their path traced by a line of steam clouds. Then, at Arcot's order, the heat beams were all turned on the mountain at full power. In less than a minute, the peak began to melt, sending streamers of lava down the sides.
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