Astronomer, "need not be the end of
civilization. These visitors of mine had their atomic bomb, or whatever
their equivalent was on their own worlds, and survived it, because they
didn't give up. Don't you see? It wasn't the bomb that defeated us, but
our own shell shock. This may be the last chance to reverse the
process."

[Illustration]

"Tell me," said the Industrialist, "what do these friends from space
want in return?"

The Astronomer hesitated. He said, "I will be truthful with you. They
come from a denser planet. Ours is richer in the lighter atoms."

"They want magnesium? Aluminum?"

"No, sir. Carbon and hydrogen. They want coal and oil."

"Really?"

The Astronomer said, quickly, "You are going to ask why creatures who
have mastered space travel, and therefore atomic power, would want coal
and oil. I can't answer that."

The Industrialist smiled. "But I can. This is the best evidence yet of
the truth of your story. Superficially, atomic power would seem to
preclude the use of coal and oil. However, quite apart from the energy
gained by their combustion they remain, and always will remain, the
basic raw material for all organic chemistry. Plastics, dyes,
pharmaceuticals, solvents. Industry could not exist without them, even
in an atomic age. Still, if coal and oil are the low price for which
they would sell us the troubles and tortures of racial youth, my answer
is that the commodity would be dear if offered gratis."

The Astronomer sighed and said, "There are the boys!"

They were visible through the open window, standing together in the
grassy field and lost in animated conversation. The Industrialist's son
pointed imperiously and the Astronomer's son nodded and made off at a
run toward the house.

The Industrialist said, "There is the Youth you speak of. Our race has
as much of it as it ever had."

"Yes, but we age them quickly and pour them into the mold."

Slim scuttled into the room, the door banging behind him.

The Astronomer said, in mild disapproval, "What's this?"

Slim looked up in surprise and came to a halt. "I beg your pardon. I
didn't know anyone was here. I am sorry to have interrupted." His
enunciation was almost painfully precise.

The Industrialist said, "It's all right, youngster."

But the Astronomer said, "Even if you had been entering an empty room,
son, there would be no cause for slamming a door."

"Nonsense," insisted the Industrialist. "The youngster has done no