dredge strip the roof from a great playhouse, and smash the
startled crowd within with stones it plucked from an embankment. I saw
untenanted land cars shooting wild through packed streets. Great
ponderous tractors left the fields and moved in ordered array on the
panic-stricken cities. Methodically they pursued the fleeing aristos,
and crushed them beneath their tread like scurrying ants.

* * * * *

I realized that the scraping of the tentacles reaching for us had
ceased, that the arms had all returned to the button banks. Then it
dawned on me that Keston's master machine was directing all the
destruction I was watching, that the intelligence he had given it was
being used to divert the machines from their regular tasks
to--conquer the world. "You sure started something, Keston," I said.

"Yes," he gasped, white-faced, "something that I should have expected
when that model machine went for me. Do you understand? I've given the
machines intelligence, created a new race, and they are trying to wipe
out the humans; conquer the world for themselves. The possibility
flashed on me when I was half-mad with rage and disappointment at the
callous cruelty of the aristo Council. I threw that switch with the
thought that it would be far better for all of us to be wiped out. But
now, I don't know. After all, they are men, like ourselves, and it
hurts to see our own race annihilated. If only I can get to that
switch."

He started to push out from under the scant shelter, but an alert
tentacle hissed through the air in a swift stab at him, and he dodged
back, hopelessly.

"Don't be a damn fool," I snapped at him. "Forget that mushy
sentimentality. Even if you save the aristos, we're due for extinction
just the same. Better that the whole human race be wiped out
together."

Then a thought struck me. "Maybe we have a chance to get out of this
ourselves."

"Impossible. Where could we hide from the machines?" He waved a hand
at the screens. "Look."

"The Glacier, man, the Glacier!" He started. "There are no machines
out there. If we can get to the ice we are safe."

"But the aircraft will find us."

"They won't know we're there. There are no microphones or radio-eyes
in the wastes."

* * * * *

A rough voice came from the cowering files behind us. "Hey, Keston,
let's get a move on. You're the smart guy around here: get us out of
this mess you've started."