THE TIME-TECHS OF KRA By MAX SHERIDAN _The elusive technical knowledge of eons, past and future, was held captive by the mighty Kralons--learned giant insects that seined the stream of Time for the great Truth that would mold them into unrivalled masters of the universe._ [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Planet Stories Fall 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.] The little gray man peered timidly over gold-rimmed spectacles at the great black hole which yawned hungrily almost at his feet. He edged back cautiously from the massive steel lattice which guarded its circumference, then plucked timidly at the sleeve of the blue-uniformed guard who stood impressively erect before the barrier's huge gate. "I--I beg your pardon. Could you tell me when the next one leaves?" he asked in a voice as colorless as his thin, nondescript features. The guard catalogued the speaker with a glance, and a superior smile lifted the corners of his lips. "Not figuring on making the Big Drop, are you, Uncle?" he asked in obvious amusement. "Well, I--" Then the gilt epaulets on the guard's padded shoulders jerked as he came suddenly to a respectful attention. "Next Diamvator leaves promptly at 2:30 P.M., sir. Arrives at the Antipodes at 6:30 P.M. Central Standard Time, sir." The obsequious reply brought a veil of mild surprise to the little man's pale gray eyes. Then it was replaced with a twinkle of understanding as he saw the Terminal Agent approaching. J. B. Andrews, the big bluff Supervisory Agent of Earth-Tube, Incorporated, cast a cursory glance at the little gray man, then turned to the guard. "The 'Vator will leave at 2:35 P.M. today, Jamieson. Five minutes later than schedule. You will act accordingly." As the Agent turned to leave, the little gray man cleared his throat and said timidly, "I--I'd like to ask about your round trip rate to--to the other side." The Terminal Agent looked appraisingly at the little man for a moment, then said courteously, "Glad to answer any questions. If you will step over to my office I'll give you one of our brochures which describes in detail the advantages of the Diamvator over surface travel." When the door had dosed behind them in the Agent's office, the little man's appearance changed subtly. His drooping shoulders were suddenly squarer, and his pale eyes seemed to darken to the color of the granite blocks of the floor. "Randall is my name, Mr. Andrews. Willard Randall," he said, and his thin, colorless voice seemed to have gained the depth and assurance of a man who is confident of his ability to meet any situation. Andrews' jaw sagged, and a startled ejaculation burst from his lips.