"They're just part of a big order that came down from the front office marked 'Rush'," the production manager answered. "But they do seem out of reason--" His forehead wrinkled into a frown. He hesitated. "But an order is an order. Build them. What the customer wants with them is his business." When McNeil left the office the production manager was still frowning. Twenty-four inch cables--. He scratched his head, as if to stir to life a sluggish idea. Then he got up, walked through the plant, up to the general offices, and the girl in the beautifully finished reception room said Mr. Tompkins would see him in a minute. "The point I make is this," the production manager said to Mr. Tompkins, "if anybody is building a generator that requires cables of that size, we had better know about that generator." Tompkins didn't show any emotion. He was a heavy man, not from fat but from muscle. Strength. He had to have strength to hold down his job as general manager. His eyes narrowed slightly and a tiny glow appeared in them. "A fellow by the name of Garth placed that order," Tompkins said. "Garth? Garth? Where have I heard that name before? Umph!" He remembered the presence of his subordinate. "Thank you. You may go." The production manager went. Tompkins flicked a switch on his desk. "Call Railton." He went on thinking. His eyes narrowed to slits and the glow deepened. Railton came. "You called me?" he asked. He was a slickie, a front man. College, teck school. Knew all about electricity, and what made the wheels go round. Knew how to talk it. Well dressed, smart. "Go call on Lee Garth," Tompkins said. "You will find his address in the files. Ask him if he will accept a ten day extension on the delivery date of certain items of his order. That is your excuse for getting in to see him." "Lee Garth? He's a big shot theoretical physicist," Railton said. "Worth a mint. Made his money on a bunch of inventions. The papers call him another Einstein, but I personally think they over-rate him. What has he been ordering from us and what am I to find out?" "Find out why he needs solid copper bus-bars twenty-four inches in diameter, but don't let him find out that's what you want to know." "What?" Railton recovered his composure. "Yes sir." "Get going." Railton left. When the chief used that tone, he wanted results, and to hell with expense and everything else that stood in the road of what was wanted. * * * * * Dawn or dusk? And which roads lead to the future? Or is there no future? Is there only the present and the past, and is the present only the husk of dying life? Again and yet again and yet again the ancient yellow sun went down the sky, and night, ever growing bolder, came each evening out of the east. Again and yet again the darkness crept around the huge ball that rested on the nearer hill.