Words that told
what had happened. And as he talked he saw the eyes of the scientist
widen in disbelief. And he heard the guards grow silent around him. Felt
every ear listening with awe to his words. And when he had finished there was a long moment of silence. And then
Joan Drake moved tremblingly up beside Trent and she spoke:

"It's true, doctor! Every word Fred said is true!" And one of the guards broke in:

"The word just came in from post four. The fence was torn to pieces--and
Giddings has been murdered--just as they said!" Then the silence again. And the face of Mathieson was grim as Trent
broke through the quiet:

"--Doctor--that monster who was Gaddon--he's up there now! When the
cosmic rays change him and the dog and the chamber is released ..."

The scientist shook his head slowly, a look of awe in his eyes. "It won't release, Trent," he said. Fred Trent looked at him questioningly. "Gaddon must have forgotten one thing," the scientist continued. "That
rocket was also an experimental project. But not for the same purpose. It was to test a new type of explosive ..."

Mathieson's voice trailed off and silence closed over the small group
then. There was no need to say anything further. There was only the tension of
waiting, the tension that showed in every eye. And the girl moved closer to Trent, her body trembling against his. They waited. The seconds passed like moments in eternity. Slowly they
marched by, one by one. And then a minute. And the tension grew. They heard it then. Off in the distance. Out in the waste of the open
desert land. A thundering sound. An explosion that rolled in a wave of
sound. And with it a flash of brilliant light. Light that seared through the
night in a terrible wave. And with it the thunder of the explosive
warhead. And then silence. After a long moment the voice of Mathieson came through the quiet night
wind. "... It's over. Gaddon is--dead. Poor fool, he fumbled with the tools of
creation, tools that man is not ready to wield ..."

And Trent heard one of the soldiers gasp, "What a story! _What_ a
story!" But he knew, as he held the girl against him, felt her body relax beside
his, that it was a story he didn't want to write. He wanted only to forget ...




Transcriber's Note:

    This etext was produced from _Amazing Stories_ April 1949. Extensive
    research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on
    this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical