The flashing metal bat met the hard-thrown ball in a resounding impact, _and instantly exploded into a thousand tiny fragments_! * * * * * Gene watched incredulously as the gleaming particles rained to the walk, preceded by a tattered ball that had lost almost all momentum. A flying piece of metal ripped across the back of his hand, tearing away an inch or so of skin, but he was oblivious to all but the scene before him. The boy at the plate snorted disgustedly and glared down at the remains of his bat. "That's the fourth bat in six days," he said bitterly. "I'm quittin' right now. That woulda been a homer, sure's there's rings around Saturn, and then the bat has to go and fall apart on me. I got cheated. Nope, I just ain't playin' anymore." Gene watched the group of urchins disperse, then slowly moved away down the street, his thoughts centered on the strange occurrence he had just witnessed. That bat--it had been made of a very durable metal, metal that wasn't given to falling apart upon receiving a hard blow. What had caused it to suddenly lose its stability and disintegrate into a heap of shards and powder? Something had very definitely gone haywire here on Earth during his absence. As Gene walked, he found further evidence to bear out this conclusion. A rather fat individual came waddling along the walk, making a grand show of bearing his weight with dignity. His stately reserve turned suddenly to consternation as the large metal buckle of his belt burst violently into powder. The fellow gave an alarmed shout and fled clumsily through the door of an office building, clutching frantically at his trousers to keep them from completing his embarrassment. Gene had now entirely forgotten his need for sleep. He had to know the answer to this perplexing circumstance. One place would know, if the answer had yet been found, and that was Science Center. He hurried toward the nearest tube-train terminal, intent on having the mystery made clear to his mind. At the terminal he found a message waiting for him. It was from Elliott Mason, World President, directing Gene to appear before the dignitary at the earliest possible moment. Apparently the message had missed him at the spaceport and had been relayed to the tube terminals along his homeward route. That would indicate utmost urgency, so Gene lost no time in boarding a train destined for Government Center. He found the Presidential Mansion in a turmoil. Garrulous diplomats were everywhere in evidence, and not a few scientists from Science Center hastened through the halls, bent on mysterious missions. Gene was immediately admitted to the presence of the president. Mason sat behind his ornate desk, poring over a thick sheaf of papers. Worry and anxiety creased his brow, but even so, he flashed a quick smile as he looked up at the biologist-explorer.