urring. It was maddening. We
worked for five years trying to make even a small alteration--and
brought back our data--" He pointed to the papers on the floor. "There
are the calculations, applied on the Equation. Meaningless. We
accomplished nothing. And the Dictator is still there."

Drengo slumped in his chair. "And he's started the war. The real
attack. This bombardment outside is nothing. There are fifteen
squadrons of space-destroyers already unloading atomic bombs on the
surface of Mars, and that's the end, for us. Farrel Strang has started
a war he can never finish--"

Roger Strang turned sharply to Drengo. "This Dictator," he said.
"Where is he? Why can't he be reached now, and destroyed?"

"The Barrier. He can't be touched in the Palace. He has all his
offices there, all his controls, and he won't let anyone in since the
attempted assassination three months ago. He's safe there, and we
can't touch him."

Roger scowled at the control panel on the wall. "How does this
time-portal work?" he asked. "You say it can take us back--_why not
forward?_"

"No good. The nature of Time itself makes that impossible. At the
present instant of Time, everything that has happened has happened.
The three-dimensional world in which we live has passed through the
fourth temporal dimension, and nothing can alter it. But at this
instant there are an infinite number of things that could happen next.
The future is an infinite series of variables, and there's no
conceivable way to predict which variable will actually be true."

Roger Strang sat up straight, staring at Drengo. "Will that portal
work both ways?" he asked tensely.

Drengo stared at him blankly. "You mean, can it be reverse-wired? I
suppose so. But--anyone trying to move into the future would
necessarily become an _infinity_ of people--he couldn't maintain his
identity, because he'd have to have a body in every one of an infinite
number of places he might be--"

"--_until the normal time stream caught up with him in the future!_
And then he'd be in whatever place he fit!" Roger's voice rose
excitedly. "Martin, can't you see the implications? Send me
ahead--just a little ahead, an hour or so--and let me go into the
Palace. If I moved my consciousness to the place where the Palace
should be, where the Dictator should be, then when normal time caught
up with me, _I could kill him_!"

Drengo was on his feet, staring at Roger with rising excitement.
Suddenly he glan