"Perhaps as the result of a direct bomb hit, but more likely as the result of the release by Garth himself of some super-powerful explosive that burned but did not explode, the tower vanished in flame. The concrete glowed red, then appeared to run, then quivered for a moment like jelly. There was a blast of furious heat which forced back the attackers. The tower puffed into dust. "There is now no question but that Garth was responsible for the people who vanished. They stopped disappearing when the tower dissolved. What Garth was attempting no one knows, but he escaped the stern justice that would have been meted out to him by committing suicide." "By the great Godfrey!" Tompkins muttered. "That fellow had discovered atomic power. What he was using it for, I don't know. But he had it. Nothing else could produce a result like that. He had it. And I let it get away! I called Sullivan off, because that story in the paper about Garth predicting the end of the earth made me think he was a cracked fool. But he had atomic power. And I could have had it, if I hadn't called Sullivan off. He had it. And I let it get away." Back and forth across the private office, he paced, muttering. "He had it. He had atomic power. I could have had it. But I let it get away." * * * * * For an infinitesimal fraction of a second, as inconceivable energies were somehow released, the low hills and the trees growing on the low hills seemed to writhe and twist as if the light rays were being bent by some refracting medium. Then the translating force collapsed. Lee Garth fell. Not far, not over a few feet. His legs buckled under him as he landed. He rolled. He stopped rolling. The ground was soft, and to his weary body it was a perfect haven for rest. Earth, soft earth, and rest. His senses reeled. As he lost consciousness, he felt someone tugging at him. For a long time there was only the consciousness of complete relaxation, rest, surcease from striving. Rest! How he needed it. But a confused babble of voices kept intruding. And someone was rubbing his head. As he opened his eyes, he saw that his head was in a woman's lap. Who was she? And why should she have his head in her lap? He had never had anything to do with women. Oh. Stella. Oh.... "Mr. Garth," Stella whispered. "You had better stand up, if you can. There is going to be--trouble." Oh, yes, trouble. There had always been trouble, but somehow he had not thought to find it here. But he got to his feet slowly. He found himself in the center of a circle of people. Men and women. Several of the men wore blue, police uniforms. The men in blue had guns. The others had clubs. Some had rocks. Even some of the girls had rocks. "It's Garth," he heard a voice say. "Yeah, it's Garth all right," another voice answered. "Gentlemen," Lee Garth said. "Shut up!" a voice answered. "What have you done to us, Garth? "Yeah, that's what we want to know: what have you done to us, Garth?