The K-Factor | Page 8

UN has agents on their world, they might
think Hengly is one of them. This is all speculation, of course, but we
do have one fact--this Society of Native Boobs we turned up. We had
no trouble finding them. If Hengly had reliable field men, he should
know about them, too. The only reason he hasn't is because he isn't
getting the information. Which means he's compromised."

Reaching back for a chair, Neel fell heavily into it. "You're right ... of
course! I never realized."
"Good," Costa said. "We'll do something to help Hengly tomorrow, but
this operation comes first. Sit tight. Get some rest. And don't open the
door for anyone except me."
* * * * *
It had been a long job--and a tiring one--but it was almost over. Neel
allowed himself the luxury of a long yawn, then shuffled over to the
case of rations they had brought. He stripped the seal from something
optimistically labeled CHICKEN DINNER--it tasted just like the algae
it had been made from--and boiled some coffee while it was heating.
And all the time he was doing these prosaic tasks his mind was turning
an indigestible fact over and over. It wasn't a conscious process, but it
was nevertheless going on. The automatic mechanism of his brain ran it
back and forth like a half heard tune, searching for its name. Neel was
tired, or he would have reacted sooner. The idea finally penetrated. One
fact he had taken for granted was an obvious impossibility.
The coffee splashed to the floor as he jumped to his feet.
"It's wrong ... it has to be wrong!" he said aloud, grabbing up the papers.
Computations and graphs dropped and were trampled into the spilled
coffee. When he finally found the one he wanted his hands were
shaking as he flipped through it. The synopsis of Hengly's reports for
the past five years. The gradual rise and fall of the k-factor from month
to month. There were no sharp breaks in the curve or gaps in the
supporting equations.
Societics isn't an exact science. But it's exact enough to know when it is
working with incomplete or false information. If Hengly had been kept
in the dark about the S.P.N.B., he would also have been misinformed
about other factors. This kind of alteration of survey would have to
show in the equations.

It didn't.
Time was running out and Neel had to act. But what to do? He must
warn Adao Costa. And the records here had to be protected. Or better
yet destroyed. There was a power in these machines and charts that
couldn't be allowed to fall into nationalist hands. But what could be
done about it?
In all the welter of equipment and containers, there was one solid,
heavy box that he had never opened. It belonged to Costa, and the UN
man had never unlocked it in his presence. Neel looked at the heavy
clasps on it and felt defeat. But when he pulled at the lid, wondering
what to do next, it fell open. It hadn't been sealed. Costa wasn't the kind
of man who did things by accident. He had looked forward to the time
when Neel might need what was in this box, and had it ready.
Inside was just what Neel expected. Grenades, guns, some smoothly
polished devices that held an aura of violence. Looking at them, Neel
had an overwhelming sensation of defeat. His life was dedicated to
peace and the furthering of peace. He hated the violence that seemed
inborn in man, and detested all the hypocritical rationalizations, such as
the ends justifying the means. All of his training and personal
inclinations were against it.
And he reached down and removed the blunt, black gun.
There was one other thing he recognized in the compact arsenal--a time
bomb. There had been lectures on this mechanism in school, since the
fact was clearly recognized that a time might come when equipment
had to be destroyed rather than fall into the wrong hands. He had never
seen one since, but he had learned the lesson well. Neel pushed the
open chest nearer to his instruments and set the bomb dial for fifteen
minutes. He slipped the gun into his pocket, started the fuse, and
carefully locked the door when he left.
[Illustration]
The bridges were burned. Now he had to find Adao Costa.

This entire operation was outside of his experience and knowledge. He
could think of no plan that could possibly make things easier or safer.
All he could do was head for the offices of the Society for the
Protection of the Native Born and hope he could catch Adao before he
ran into any trouble.
* * * * *
Two blocks away from the address