CHAPTER I
"I called you three in," the Oligarch said, "because I have some very important news."
Herb—he would later be assigned that name—was one of the three. He hated the Oligarch, and he had no doubt that the Oligarch knew it.
"There are," the Oligarch said, "people on the planet. Unfortunately."
Dull rage and frustration and despair and helplessness bubbled up in Herb. His face remained calm.
"We'll have to keep them from interfering with us," the Oligarch said.
Herb wanted to cry: Find another! Not this one! Not the only one we've ever found with people on it!
But he said nothing. His anguished thoughts whirled like a dust storm, handling and rejecting ideas like bits of paper. The remote and inaccessible Scientists were beyond accounting. Perhaps only this planet would serve. Perhaps there was insufficient time to locate another of suitable mass. Perhaps.... But one could not know. One could only submit to authority. The storm died away, and Herb acknowledged bitter reality with helplessness. There even seemed a nightmare inevitability about the selection.
"It would be dangerous to try to work secretly," the Oligarch said. "If they were to discover us in the midst of planting the explosive, it would be fatal. We'll go down and ask their permission."
No one protested.
"To that end," the Oligarch said, "I have selected you three competent, trustworthy men. You will learn their language and when we land, lull their natural suspicions. It will be your responsibility to see that we blow up the planet on schedule."
The crush of the responsibility was terrifying. "I don't need to tell you," the Oligarch said, "that you can't fail."
And it was true. Herb believed.
Unless the planet Earth were exploded, the ever-unstable Universe, itself, would collapse. Already the binding force was dangerously diminished. If new energy were not released within a month, disintegration would begin. The Universe would alter and flow and contract and after the collapse, slowly build itself into a new form—that form itself containing the inherent stresses of change and mutability. Only the arrival of starmen to space flight at the critical time—only their continued vigilance—prevented disaster beyond accounting for.
Herb believed.