_Litchfield, N.J., 20 May (for immediate release)--Security wraps today came off an eight-year-old project that will be the greatest boon to mankind since the development of modern medicine. A process for bringing the dead back to life has left the experimental stage and is now ready for public demonstration, according to famous biochemist David Klaus, 29, a Harvard graduate who has spearheaded the project in recent months._ _Klaus stated, "The technique developed at this laboratory will make possible restoration of life in all cases where death has taken place no more than twenty-four hours before the reanimation attempt, provided no serious organic damage was the cause of death. A combination of hormone therapy and electrochemical stimulation makes this astonishing and miraculous process possible."_ _The Beller Research Laboratories of Litchfield, established in 2024 by a grant from the late Darwin F. Beller, were the birthplace for this scientific breakthrough. Further details to come.--Cal Mitchison, publicity._ Harker dropped the sheet contemptuously to Raymond's desk. "Bad grammar, bad writing, bad thinking--not even a good mimeograph job. Mart, how the dickens could a thing like this have happened?" "Klaus and Mitchison must have cooked it up last night or early this morning. They handed copies of it to the local press-service stringers in town, and phoned it in to all the New York area newspapers." "We didn't even have time to fire him," Harker muttered. "Well? Where is he now?" Raymond shrugged. "He and Klaus are gone. I sent men looking for them as soon as I found out about the newsbreak, but no sign of them." "Operation Barn Door," Harker snapped. "Most likely they're in Manhattan getting themselves interviewed on video. I see Mitchison didn't bother to mention anyone's name but Klaus' in this alleged handout." "What would you expect?" Harker whirled on Barchet, who looked very small and meek suddenly, with none of his earlier blustery self-assurance. "_You!_ You're the one who brought Mitchison into this outfit!" In a tiny voice Barchet said, "Recriminations are useless now, Mr. Harker." "The hell with that. Did you tell Mitchison I was going to have him sacked?" "Mr. Harker, I--" "_Did you?_" Helplessly Barchet nodded. Harker glared at him, then turned to Raymond and said, "There you have it, Mart. Mitchison heard he was getting canned, so he whipped this thing out now, while he could get fat on us. Well, we're stuck with this statement. There are two million reporters on the front lawn waiting for official word from us." Raymond had not shaved that morning. He ran his fingers through a blue-stubbled growth of beard and then locked his hands over his forehead. In a sepulchral voice he said, "What do you suggest? Deny the Mitchison release?"