Spoilers of the Spaceways By W. BRADFORD MARTIN _Out beyond hyper-space soared the transmuted Terran--to Trygon II--where all mad men die willingly for the Empress._ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories July 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] It could be said that the Resistance began at the moment the great spaceship from Trygon II first appeared as an unknown body on the photographic plates at Palomar, for while the astronomers propounded theories as to its origin and composition, it entered our atmosphere and came to earth on the runways of Idlewild Airport, just outside of what was then New York City. Nothing need be said of the panic caused by its coming. Three Trygonians went immediately in a ground car to the United Nations Building in the city. The records of their pronouncement have, unfortunately, been lost, but from subsequent events it has been established that they granted Terra fifteen days to submit to Trygonia. Then they returned to space. Fifteen days later they returned and crushed the feeble opposition they encountered. * * * * * Ross Savage was tired of seeing nothing but white; the walls and ceiling of his small, windowless room, the few pieces of utilitarian furniture and the sheets covering the narrow bed, which sagged under the weight of his muscularly massive, six-foot five-inch frame. He was tired too, of the white bandages on his hands and, although he could not see them, the white bandages that swathed his head and face, leaving only slits for his eyes and mouth. Today is the day, he thought. Why don't they come? As if in answer to his unspoken question the door latch clicked. Savage turned his head stiffly to watch the door open. As it swung wide the doctor entered, followed by General Strathmore and two nurses guiding a wheeled tray. "It's time to take them off," the doctor said. No one answered, but Savage felt his hands grow sweaty in their wrappings. As the group reached the bed a nurse handed the doctor a pair of surgical scissors. He bent over Savage as he said, "We'll take the hands first." There was no sound other than the snip-snip of the scissors as the doctor carefully cat through the gauze. Finally the sound stopped and Savage looked at his hands. They were white and soft, but there were no scars to betray the fingerprint change. The doctor permitted himself a small smile of satisfaction, but the room was pregnant with tension as he turned his attention to the gauze covering Savage's head.