of them saw the
invisible but very powerful hand of Stanley Martin shifting the news
just enough to give it the bias he wanted.

The comedians on the entertainment programs let the whole story alone
for the most part. There were no clever skits, no farcical takeoffs on
the subject of Stanley Martin and the Nipe. One comedian, who was
playing the part of a henpecked husband, did remark: "If my wife gets
any meaner, I'm going to send Stan Martin after _her_!" But it didn't
get much of a laugh. And the Government organization had nothing to do
with that kind of censorship; it was self-imposed. Every one of the
really great comics recognized, either consciously or subconsciously,
that the Nipe was not a subject for humor. Such jokes would have made
them about as popular as the Borscht Circuit comedian who told a funny
story about Dachau in 1946.

Aside from the subtle coloring given it by the small, Mannheim-trained
group of propaganda experts, the news went out straight.

The detective himself, after that one single interview, vanished from
sight. No one knew where he was, though, again, there were all kinds of
speculations, all of them erroneous. Actually, he was a carefully
guarded and willing prisoner in a suite in one of the big hotels in
Government City.

On the fourth day, the big operation began without fanfare. The actual
maneuvering to capture the alien that had terrorized a planet began
shortly after noon.

At a few minutes before three that afternoon, the man whom the world
knew as Stanley Martin suddenly suffered a dizzy spell and nearly
fainted.

Then, almost like a child, he began to weep.

_FINAL INTERLUDE_

Colonel Walther Mannheim said: "It will take five years, Stanton."

He was looking at the young man seated in one of the three chairs in the
small, comfortable room. There was a clublike atmosphere about the room,
but none of the three men were relaxed.

"Five years?" said the young man. He looked at the third man.

Dr. Farnsworth nodded. "More or less. More if it's a partial
failure--less if it's a complete failure."

"Then there _is_ a chance of failure?" the young man asked.

"There is always a chance of failure in any major surgical undertaking,"
Dr. Farnsworth said. "Even in the most routine cases, things can go
wrong. We're only men, Mr. Stanton. We're neither magicians nor gods."

"I know that, Doctor," the young man said. "Nobody's perfect, and I
don't expect perfection