You too can cause earthquakes, munch high-tension power lines and travel faster than light--all you have to do is become an E being BY JAMES STAMERS [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Worlds of If Science Fiction, March 1962. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] First man to reach the speed of light, I was. But you'll find the good Albert only hinted at the effects, in a delta-theta 2.3 pi-squared way. E=mc^2, he said. And for fifty years before they built my rocket, the _Lighttrick_, slim, tapering, sleek and gy-perpowered, everyone concentrated on turning matter into energy at a light-squared power. Big, bright bangs, and congratulations. It's a pity no one asked what happens to energy _divided_ by the speed of light. I happen to be the answer to the equation, and by interfering with the motor of this electric typescripter I can give you my thoughts on the matter. The _Lighttrick_ hit full velocity out there between Van Allen and the asteroids. I'd guess the whole beautiful ship, including me, converted into energy and, slowing down, reconverted on the wrong side, so to speak. And there I was, floating without a ship and surrounded by little round beings, shimmering in a blue haze. "Good afternoon," I said. But no sound came out of my mouth. I had a mouth, in a way, but not for talking; and not at all the sort of mouth I used to have. In fact, the shimmering blue haze was me. I could find no other parts of me. And when the little round things touched me on the periphery, there was an intelligent vibration. "Frequency and tone?" said the vibration. "Please identify." "You must take me as you find me," I thought. "Unidentified frequencies and discordant tones requested not to wander in spaceways," vibrated the little round things. "I'm a man," I vibrated back. "We don't have frequencies. We _use_ frequencies in radio, television, radar and so on." "Not intelligible." "Where's my ship?" "Ship?" I tried to picture the _Lighttrick_ and the long thin gleam on her hull, the fury of her rockets and the calm ordered keyboard of the control panels. "Most interesting," vibrated the round things. "Poetic. Very creative. Speculative philosopher, yes?" * * * * * They seemed to be grasping the general idea, so I concentrated on an image of myself, square and bearded, staring sternly into space through the ports, in a pioneer manner, observing hitherto unknown planets. "Most ingenious," my audience vibrated back. "But unlikely." Then they started vibrating among themselves. "Senior e minus says...." "Mush is mush, that's what I say." "Now, theoretically...." "I don't vibrate why not. There are more things in positive and negative, Horatio, than...." "Excuse me," I vibrated.