of course. It had to be written off as
an accident. But from that day on, the League had become increasingly
bolder; their policy was: "Smash the UN and take the planets for
ourselves!"

And now, with Carlson Spacecraft going up in flames, they seemed to be
getting closer to their goal.

* * * * *

Karnes accepted his weapon and billfold from the guard and led them
back down the stairway. "Would one of you guys phone the State Police?
They'll want to know what happened."

The State Police copters came and went, taking Karnes and the late Mr.
Avery with them, and leaving behind the now dying glow of Carlson
Spacecraft.

There were innumerable forms to fill out and affidavits to make; there
was a long-distance call to UN headquarters in New York to verify
Karnes' identity. And Karnes asked to borrow the police lab for an
hour or so.

That evening, he caught the rocket for Long Island.

As the SR-37 floated through the hard vacuum five hundred miles above
central Nebraska, Karnes leaned back in his seat, turning the odd
cigarette case over and over in his hands.

Except for the neat, even checking that covered it, the little
three-by-four inch object was entirely featureless. There were no
catches or hinges, or even any line of cleavage around the edge. He
had already found that it wouldn't open.

Whatever it was, it was most definitely _not_ a cigarette case.

The X-ray plates had shown it to be perfectly homogeneous throughout.

_As far as I can see_, thought Karnes, _it's nothing but a piece of
acid-proof plastic, except that the specific gravity is way the hell
too high_. _Maybe if I had cut it open, I could have--_

Karnes didn't push anything on the case, of that he was sure. Nor did
he squeeze, shake, or rub it in any unusual way. But something
happened; something which he was convinced came from the case in his
hands.

He had the definite impression of something akin to a high-pressure
firehose squirting from the interior of the case, through his skull,
and into and over his brain, washing it and filling it. Little rivers
of knowledge trickled down through the convolutions of his brain,
collected in pools, and soaked in.

* * * * *

He was never sure just how long the process took but it was certainly
not more than a second or two. Afterwards, he just sat there, staring.

From far across the unimaginable depths of the galaxy, fightin