STOPWATCH on the WORLD By Daniel R. Gilgannon Feature Novel of Deadly Menace Every member of the UN received the note which said: "... Give us peace within a month or I shall destroy the earth utterly." And only two men believed the sender to be capable of carrying out his threat--two men, bucking red-tape, trying to find the terribly sincere atomic physicist, Chetzisky, before the deadline! [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Science Fiction Quarterly May 1951. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] [Illustration: Chetzisky held the world in his hand. Would the United Nations act to end war, or was the world doomed?] _EXTRACTS, HOSPITAL CASE HISTORY No. 3007:_ _Patient admitted 11:45 A.M. in coma and severe shock. Pulse weak. Temperature 95. White cell count less than 2,000. Blood draining off into tissues, indicating generalized purpura. Immediate whole blood transfusions given._ _DIAGNOSIS: Radiation illness. Exposure considered lethal. Probably about 1,000 roentgens._ _2:30 P.M. White cell count now down to 500. Response to aureomycin treatment favorable.... 3:10 P.M. Hematocrit reading remains high at 101.... 3:55 P.M. Lab reports show karyorrhexis developing swiftly as more and more cells are ionized by 'hot' isotopes in patient's body.... 4:40 P.M. Geiger counter set up at bedside to check progressive radioactivity of the human atomic pile.... 5:10 P.M. Guided by hematocrit readings, blood transfusions increased, supplemented by albumen.... 5:50 P.M. Patient conscious. Suffers violent spasms of pain. Morphine barely suffices. He appears thoughtful, moves head weakly...._ With a great effort I turn my head and see the sun going down behind the color-splashed ridges of the Coastal range. It's the last sunset I shall ever see and the end of a day that a mad-man with an atomic stopwatch meant to be your last. Every cell inside me seems a glowing coal. The geiger counter clicks off a slow, steady staccato. Suddenly I find my body arching itself convulsively in a wracking outbreak of pain. There is the quick sharpness of a needle in my arm and mercifully I am numb. Armstrong, his giant frame hunched over in the chair, watches me with a suffering look new to those hard, cold eyes of his. A good man and a loyal friend. If he weren't as stubborn and resolute as a bull-dog, you might not be sitting down to your supper tonight. My mind is strangely clear and calm, as if washed by cool, clean winds from distant space. I remember everything vividly, the whole sequence of events that began a month ago.