have
more than once revealed our plans. If the public suddenly realized
that--"

* * * * *

The Coroner broke in. "You killed Smith because he revealed something in
his writings?"

"Yes. He refused to take my word that it was unsalable. He threatened to
submit it direct. It was vital material."

"But there are many other such writers. You can't control--"

"We control ninety percent of the output. We have concentrated on the
field and all of the science-fiction agencies are in our hands. This
control was imperative."

"I see." The Coroner spoke in the gentle tones one uses with the insane.
"Any writing dangerous to your cause is deleted or changed by the
agents."

"Not exactly. The agent usually persuades the writer to make any such
changes, as the agent is considered an authority on what will or will
not sell."

"The writers always agree?"

"Not always. If stubbornness is encountered, the agent merely shelves
the manuscript and tells the writer it has been repeatedly rejected."

The Coroner glanced at the two policemen. Both were obviously puzzled.
They returned the Coroner's look, apparently ready to move on his order.

The thin, mirthless smile was still on Cole's lips. Maniacal violence
could lie just behind it. Possibly Cole was armed. Better to play for
time--try to quiet the madness within. The Coroner continued speaking.
"You Martians have infiltrated other fields also?"

"Oh, yes. We are in government, industry, education. We are everywhere.
We have, of course, concentrated mainly upon the ranks of labor and in
the masses of ordinary, everyday people. It is from these sources that
we will draw our shock troops when the time comes."

"That time will be--?"

"Soon, very soon."

The Coroner could not forebear a smile. "You find the science-fiction
writers more dangerous than the true scientists?"

"Oh, yes. The scientific mind tends to reject anything science
disproves." There was now a mocking edge to Cole's voice. "Science can
easily prove we do not exist."

"But the science-fiction writer?"

"The danger from the imaginative mind cannot be overestimated."

The Coroner knew he must soon order the officers to lay hands upon this
madman. He regretted his own lack of experience with such situations. He
tried to put a soothing, confidential note into his voice. "You said a
moment ago that if you'd had the right kind of weapon to use on Smith--"

Cole reached i