Part 5

"Shouldn't be too long," interposed Dr. Gerard. "Unlike the insects of our own times, these creatures have had no opportunity to build up an immunity, nor time to mutate as a race to types resistant to chemical insecticides. Therefore its effect should be considerably more rapid than upon even the small insects of the future."

Zor Ala nodded in satisfaction. "The floor is yours, Randall," he said.

Randall stepped to the center of the group. "We are apparently all in agreement that the zero hour is to be set at 4:00 AM, or 1600 in universal time. That should give sufficient time for the DDT to accomplish its work, and we do not dare delay beyond then for fear that Dr. Gerard's contrivance will be discovered in the morning, thus alerting the Kralons."

He paused a moment, his pale gray eyes flicking from one member of the group to another. "It might be wise to keep an eye on Jackson in the meantime," he said. "He undoubtedly has had time to think things over, and to have concluded that Dr. Gerard's fake synthesis and subsequent actions weren't quite plausible under the circumstances."

"How did you happen to suspect him in the first place?" asked McClellan.

Randall smiled faintly. "It was quite obvious that the salesman lacked courage," he replied. "We all were fully aware of that. Also, both by profession and inclination, Jackson was an opportunist.

"In my dealings with the renegades of society, I have always found that to be a deadly combination. A cowardly opportunist can almost always be expected to turn traitor to a cause which offers him any particular inconvenience. Also," he added, "the Kralons asked me several questions about Jackson which set me thinking."

Lanson nodded. "He very clearly gave his position away when he so willingly volunteered to contact the Kralons with our request," he said. "We certainly have you to thank for preventing us from exposing our plans before him. You were particularly adroit in utilizing his treacherous contact with the Kralons to our advantage."

As the other members nodded agreement, Randall shifted uneasily. "I didn't do much," he said briefly. "Dr. Gerard did all the work. But the hardest part is still ahead of us. The DDT, at best, is only going to make the Kralons lethargic and slow in the time we have allowed. Even if they don't suspect something and vacate the Hive before the chemical-laden air affects them adversely. In any event we will have many problems to solve.

"Let us outline briefly the tasks assigned to each of us, and formulate a time schedule of action, starting with 4:00 AM as the zero hour."

He turned to Zor Ala. "You are to make such contacts with the other humans of the colony as you feel advisable, and you will organize several parties from those you feel you can trust. Have them gather in small groups on either side of the main gate, staying in the shadows of the stockade wall. Be sure they are ready at one minute to four. Have the members armed with any weapons you can devise."

Then he continued, outlining carefully the assigned plan of action and time schedule for each individual.

VIII

Outside, behind the low hut, Jackson strained his ears to catch Randall's words. With an innate animal cunning, he had finally surmised most of the intricate plot, and had crept to his vantage point shortly after the meeting in Lanson's shelter had begun.

However, Jackson was still faced with the problem of escaping the surveillance of his human companions long enough to contact the Kralons and acquaint them with the plot. He realized that if he made sufficient noise to attract the huge insects, he would be intercepted and subdued before he could accomplish his objective.

Then his dilemma was suddenly solved by the mechanical voice of the Voder. Amplified by the speaker, it called out in hesitant, somewhat garbled accents: "The hu-man called Jack-son will come to the gate immed-iately."

With a glance around to see that none of his companions were close enough to intercept him, Jackson made a run for the gate. When he arrived there, the Kralon guide had already unlocked it and was waiting for him. Rapidly it led the way up the beaten path to the Hive entrance and down the long corridor to the conference room.

The Voderist sat ready at the instrument, and it was evident that the Kralon was maintaining its posture with difficulty. The DDT was apparently having a pronounced effect.

A number of the council members were present, and they too seemed to be showing effects from the chemical. But their multi-faceted eyes regarded the salesman with unmistakable enmity.

"Human," said the Voder in tones as severe as possible for the mechanical contrivance, "what trickery have you and your companions used to poison the air of the Hive?"

"I didn't," denied Jackson, shrinking back from the virulence of those inhuman eyes and the very real menace of the huge pincers.

* * * * *

Back in the stockade, Randall and his council members had heard the Kralon voice, and had seen Jackson disappear with the guard. The agent was sick at heart, for he knew that this meant the destruction of all their carefully formulated plans.

If they had only had a few hours more, the DDT would certainly have rendered the Kralons vulnerable to attack.

Randall quickly conferred with his group. Following the directions the agent gave, Malherne ran back to one of the shelters and brought rope.

Randall handed the rope to McClellan without comment. The Australian silently improvised a hondo, made a loop, and twirled it skillfully. He tossed it over the top of one of the pilings, watched it settle into place, then tugged it tight.

Randall was halfway up the rope before anyone could object. He gained the top of the stockade, dropped to the ground on the other side. Hastily he located the massive bolt which barred the gate and stood on his toes to reach it. The Kralons had not constructed it for human manipulation, and Randall was having trouble.

As he glanced back over his shoulder he saw several Kralon guards start down the path toward him.

"Be ready for a fight," he called through the wall to his companions, "as soon as I get the gate open. The guards are coming."

It wasn't until the Kralons were within a dozen yards that the bolt finally gave under Randall's frenzied efforts, and the gate swung open. Then out streamed a motley mob of determined humans, with Dr. Gerard leading. He held his container ready, advancing toward the approaching Kralons. He waited until they were within a few feet, then dashed the contents of the container at their heads.

Randall never knew whether it was partially the effects of the insecticide or purely the virulence and vicious determination of the band of humans which finally overcame the Kralons. But as soon as he saw that both were down, limbs threshing, he led the group to the Hive entry and down the huge corridor.

He almost grinned as he thought of this ludicrous army storming the ramparts of a fantastic race in the dim forgotten past, for the motley human crowd from a dozen different ages brandished clubs, stones, and knives, and McClellan was twirling his improvised lariat.

Quickly the agent found the entry to the Time Trap laboratory and opened the panel. The Kralon guard didn't have much chance, for it was already lethargic from the effects of the DDT, and the milling mob of humans soon swarmed over its prostrate figure.

Wasting no time, Gordo Lanson rapidly began his check tests with the drycell, calling out his readings to Malherne who noted them down on the white wall.

Meanwhile, Randall was determined to find out definitely what had happened to the McMahons. Calling McClellan, he left the Time Trap laboratory and led the way to the operating room. No trace of any form there.

From room to room they searched. Finally they arrived at the council room door. Randall opened it and stepped in, McClellan close behind him. What he saw brought the gorge to his throat, inured though he was to dealing in violence.

It was quite apparent that Jackson had failed to sell the Kralon Council the truth of his innocence. Their final acts had been to exact retribution.

* * * * *

Slowly the two men turned away, then continued their search for some sign of the McMahons. And Randall knew then, with a sudden flash of insight, that the phase of the future to which he and his companions would soon return would not know the names of Blake Garnet, Jerome Jackson, or Charles and Evelyn McMahon. He knew with an esoteric knowledge that in that particular future there would have been just seven Diamvator passengers and himself scheduled on the historic trip. And he was somehow sure that the passenger check list would substantiate that count.

For it would be an alternate phase of the future, rather than the one in which those people had, or might have existed. Those four personalities would henceforth exist only as a memory in his mind. And perhaps it wouldn't even be strictly a memory. Perhaps it would be a dream; an ephemeral and elusive link between alternate potential Time phases.

There was a fantastic thought! Perhaps all dreams were but vague links between Time potentials or alternate phases.

Then Randall impatiently thrust aside the fanciful theories and turned to the search.

The room he and McClellan now entered was quite obviously a genetics research laboratory. And it was there that they found unmistakable evidence of the two young McMahons.

They examined the grisly proof that the young couple had been victimized by vicious Kralon experiments. Apparently the research was aimed at the use of human gene-determinants in synthesizing a greater Kralon race.

In the next room Randall found a case filled with metallic sheets covered with hieroglyphics. Feeling that the records might hold information of value to Zor Ala and Lanson, the agent removed the first sheet and took it with him.

Back in the Time Trap room he called it to Zor Ala's attention, and while Lanson and Malherne were busily completing their transpositions and calibrations, the future-man excitedly examined the record.

"It's written in Ulla!" he cried. "The Universal written language adopted in the 30th Century for documentary purposes. Where did you find it?"

Randall led the way back to the room where he had found the records. Zor Ala avidly began to read the information contained in the file, making notes from time to time on his mechanical pocket recorder.

Meanwhile Randall wandered from room to room, finding that the DDT had done a thorough job, for nowhere did he find a sign of life in the motionless Kralon corpses.

When he finally returned to the vault, Zor Ala looked up from his work and took a deep breath.

"Randall," he said, his fine eyes shining with an almost evangelical light, "this is a summary of the most magnificent revelation in the history of the universe!"

On the way back to the generator room Randall plied him with questions, but Zor Ala was so deep in thought that he didn't even hear them.

As they re-entered the Time Trap laboratory, Malherne and Lanson looked up from their work. At Zor Ala's gesture they paused in their labor, and the rest of the humans waited for his words.

"Friends," he said, his splendid head held proudly, and his deep voice rich with the surge of mighty emotion, "before we again return to our various ages, it is important that all of us know the most astounding story that it has ever been the privilege of mortal men to hear."

While the crowd fell silent within the room, and those in the corridor crowded closer to hear his words, Zor Ala continued:

"It is the story of Man in all his glory! It is the story of a superb race of men who exist so far in the future that my own age is antediluvian by comparison. It is the stupendous history of that race's realization of the ultimate goal of Life; a goal so tremendous that its concepts were staggering, even to those supremely mature minds!"

Zor Ala paused, drew a deep breath, then went on.

"Those far distant future-men knew that goal to be far more important than any one life or any one race or any galaxy. They knew that no effort should be spared in its ultimate accomplishment.

"That infinite purpose transcended even individual or racial survival, and this almost divinely intelligent and benevolent race knew that the history of Life's development must be reviewed; must be re-examined to determine whether Mankind was the most suitable vehicle for its eventual attainment.

"Following this postulate, they developed the science of Dimensional Time, and devised equipment for investigating the past. There, their first test of Man's fitness for the ultimate purpose was to aid forms of life other than Man.

"First they set up elaborate scientific equipment to provide an artificial evolutionary leap ahead for one form which had diverged from the main stem.

"Knowing full well that if this life-form progressed, Man's whole future would undoubtedly be replaced by an alternate future of insect supremacy, this super-race without hesitation continued its work of producing a tremendous artificial advancement for the rudimentary invertebrates.

* * * * *

"They accomplished this objective by inducing a re-encystment or pupation which carried the invertebrates up the evolutionary ladder countless millions of years in a single stride!

"They fully realized that if their help was successful in aiding this life-form to reach ascendance, that Man's phase--their phase of the future--would no longer exist. But they knew that the infinite importance of the ultimate goal must be placed above all else!

"Thus the Kralons sprang suddenly from low invertebrate stock which had strayed off as a branch of the main evolutionary stem. But they were an artificial race, raised to their pedestal among other life-forms by outside help, rather than through sturdy, solid evolutionary progress."

Zor Ala paused while his audience looked at each other soberly, all realizing that the Kralons had failed the splendid chance which had been offered them by the almost divine race of the far distant future.

And then they realized that they themselves had played a part in the cosmic scheme which once again was assuring Man of his place in Life. They had helped to forge another link in the chain of evidence pointing toward the conclusion that Man and Man alone was to be selected to reach that ultimate goal!

Zor Ala continued!

"The investigators assigned by the super-race were not content with testing only this single life-form against Man's development. They combed the infinite past, selecting various promising genera to aid; hoping, always hoping in their hearts that Man himself would emerge from the tests as the chosen species, but never allowing that hope to influence their work.

"They helped man, very many species with well-planned steps; a help which Man's progenitors never had. They implanted determinant genes in a certain reptilian branch which eventually produced the mighty dinosaurs' great size; reasoning that the advantage of protective size might allow this life-type to evolve toward the heights.

"But the reptiles also failed their chance, possibly even as the Kralons are failing theirs. Perhaps, like the Kralons they were not satisfied with all the help the future had already given them. Perhaps they, like the selfish insects, again reached forward in Time for more and more unearned information, thus bringing back the elements of their own destruction!"

The listening humans exhaled almost as one. This was a concept so vast that it was almost mentally painful; yet so glorious in its implications for Man that every heart felt the surge of a mighty emotion.

Randall looked around at his companions. On every face he saw the glory of tremendous purpose.

No longer would they blunder through Life with fumbling and despairing uncertainty. No more would hollow frustration gnaw at searching minds which eternally wondered: "Why survive? For what purpose? What is our destiny?"

Now they knew! Now the distant view of a magnificent purpose would be always before them, filling them with a vast serenity coupled with a mighty incentive. Whence now, little man? Onward!