"We've got to catch up with him fast. We can't take the chance it's a hoax." The square jaw hardened and the muscles tightened in the lean, weather-beaten face. "Will you help me, Arnold?" "Of course. I can easily get a leave of absence for government business and...." "You won't be able," Armstrong broke in, "because it isn't government business. Remember there are only two of us who believe this note. Whatever help we'll need I'll have to wrangle by pulling my rank." He pointed to the colonel's eagles on his shoulders. "But I have six more lectures to deliver this semester, Jim; that will tie me up for three weeks." "That can't be helped. When is your next class?" "Tuesday. My lectures are Tuesdays and Thursdays." "Good. That gives you lots of time to work with me between lectures. Beginning right now." "But--" "Start packing some things. I'll arrange for you to fly to the atomic labs and take up Chetzisky's trail from there. You'll have the entire weekend to dig up something." He took me by the arm and hustled me out of the office. While I rummaged in my rooms for a luggage case and packed some clothes, the energetic Armstrong sat on my bed smoking a cigarette and filled me in on the details he had rounded up in the past twenty-four hours. The man was a wonder the way he had gone to work unofficially on the Chetzisky case while still handling a regular official assignment on the leakage of troop movements. "Doctor Chetzisky got a year's leave of absence from the atomic labs; that was eight months ago. A month ago he dropped out of sight altogether." "Did he tell anyone where he was going?" "No, he didn't. But he did have an interesting chat with a visiting English chemist, Doctor Chaslington, the Nobel prize winner. Told Chaslington that our fission methods are as out of date and wasteful as the first automobile. Chaslington didn't press him for further information. Matter of good taste and manners with the Englishman. Besides, he probably figured Chetzisky was simply projecting his fancy into the future." I grunted as I snapped the suitcase lock shut. "By the way, Jim, have you traced any of the letters yet?" "No." Armstrong paused to light a fresh cigarette. "That's what I'll be doing while you're away. Ready?" He dropped the burnt-out match in an ash tray and swung my bag off the bed. * * * * * Five hours later I was air-bound out of Washington for the atomic labs. As the lights of cities and towns flashed below me, a panicking sense of responsibility seized me. Two of us alone were trying to save two billion people from a deadline of annihilation; forced to do it in our spare time as if the rescue of a planet was a casual hobby for leisure hours. I struck an angry fist into the palm of my hand; a sickening feeling of hopelessness took me by the pit of the stomach.