The power had been meant as a hope for the world. A man who could work such seeming miracles might have ended the threat of war; he'd have been the perfect spy, or better at attack than a hundred hydrogen bombs that had to smash whole cities to remove a few men and weapons. But now the world was better off without him. So long as he still lived, there would be nothing but danger from the alien monster in his head. He had no idea of his limits--but he was sure that it could trigger the energies of the universe to move the whole world out of its orbit, if that seemed necessary for his personal survival! VIII Hawkes leaned forward cautiously as the gray sedan moved up Tenth Avenue. His finger found the gun in Dan's coat pocket; and he pulled it out stealthily. He knew that the only answer for him was suicide. He had to destroy himself, since no one else could! He propped it up, pointing at his head, and his thumb pressed back on the trigger, further and further, until he felt sure the smallest change would set it off. Then he waited for the rough spot in the street or the sudden stop at a light that would do the trick before he could stop it. The car lurched--and the gun suddenly vanished, leaving his hand empty. His responses were too quick--and his mind wasn't waiting, once it knew there was danger. He slumped back on the rear seat, trying to think. Drugs were out--he knew his system could throw them off. But he couldn't remove himself! He lifted his wrist--to his teeth, and bit down savagely. If he could sever an artery.... Pain shot through him, and he stared down at the blood. Then the blood was gone, and the wound was closing before his eyes, until only smooth flesh remained. His mind could juggle the cells back into their original form. It would have to be sudden, complete death. And no death was that sudden! For a fraction of a second, there'd be life left--and during that split second, the damage would be repaired, or he would be shifted from danger. There was no way out--unless he could pull himself to another planet, or throw himself back into the dim past. But that would take voluntary control, and he knew now that hours of effort had shown him how impossible that was. He hadn't been able to lift a crumb of bread from the table deliberately, in his original tests after he had treated himself. He was faced with a problem that had to be solved--and there was no possible solution that he could find. No man could face that dilemma forever without going insane. Hawkes shuddered, trying to picture what would happen if he went mad, and the wild talents began operating at every whim of his crazed mind! * * * * * Ellen shouted suddenly, grabbing for the wheel. Hawkes felt himself tense, and began lifting from the seat of the car. But there was no visible danger, and Dan was slowing to a halt at the curb, Hawkes' body dropped back slowly.