Cultist. 'You're Latimer, aren't you?'
The Cultist bowed stiffly and indicated the symbol upon his hip. 'I am Latimer 25, adjutant of the third class to his serenity, Sor 5.'
'And'—Aton's white eyebrows lifted—'you were with his serenity when he visited me last week, weren't you?'
Latimer bowed a second time.
'Now, then, what do you want?'
'Nothing that you would give me of your own free will.'
'Sor 5 sent you, I suppose—or is this your own idea?'
'I won't answer that question.'
'Will there be any further visitors?'
'I won't answer that, either.'
Aton glanced at his timepiece and scowled. 'Now, man, what is it your master wants of me? I have fulfilled my end of the bargain.'
Latimer smiled faintly, but said nothing.
'I asked him,' continued Aton angrily, 'for data only the Cult could supply, and it was given to me. For that, thank you. In return, I promised to prove the essential truth of the creed of the Cult.'
'There was no need to prove that,' came the proud retort. 'It stands proven by the
'Book of Revelations.' '
'For the handful that constitute the Cult, yes. Don't pretend to mistake my meaning. I offered to present scientific backing for your beliefs. And I did!'
The Cultist's eyes narrowed bitterly. 'Yes, you did—with a fox's subtlety, for your pretended explanation backed our beliefs, and at the same time removed all necessity for them. You made of the Darkness and of the Stars a natural phenomenon, and removed all its real significance. That was blasphemy.'
'If so, the fault isn't mine. The facts exist. What can I do but state them?'
'Your 'facts' are a fraud and a delusion.'
Aton stamped angrily. 'How do you know?'
And the answer came with the certainty of absolute faith. 'I know!'
The director purpled and Beenay whispered urgently. Aton waved him silent.
'And what does Sor 5 want us to do? He still thinks, I suppose, that in trying to warn the world to take measures against the menace of madness, we are placing innumerable souls in jeopardy. We aren't succeeding, if that means anything to him.'
'The attempt itself has done harm enough, and your vicious effort to gain information by means of your devilish instruments must be stopped. We obey the will of their Stars, and I only regret that my clumsiness prevented me from wrecking your infernal devices.'
'It wouldn't have done you too much good,' returned Aton. 'All our data, except for the direct evidence we intend collecting right now, is already safely cached and well beyond possibility of harm.' He smiled grimly. 'But that does not affect your present status as an attempted burglar and criminal.'
He turned to the men behind him. 'Someone call the police at Saro City.'
There was a cry of distaste from Sheerin. 'Damn it, Aton, what's wrong with you?
There's no time for that. Here'—he bustled his way forward—'let me handle this.'
Aton stared down his nose at the psychologist. 'This is not the time for your monkeyshines, Sheerin, Will you please let me handle this my own way? Right now you are a complete outsider here, and don't forget it.'
Sheerin's mouth twisted eloquently. 'Now why should we go to the impossible trouble of calling the police— with Beta's eclipse a matter of minutes from now—
when this young man here is perfectly willing to pledge his word of honor to remain and cause no trouble whatsoever?'
The Cultist answered promptly, 'I will do no such thing. You're free to do what you want, but it's only fair to warn you that just as soon as I get my chance I'm going to finish what I came out here to do. If it's my word of honor you're relying on, you'd better call the police.'
Sheerin smiled in a friendly fashion. 'You're a determined cuss, aren't you? Well, I'll explain something. Do you see that young man at the window? He's a strong, husky fellow, quite handy with his fists, and he's an outsider besides. Once the eclipse starts there will be nothing for him to do except keep an eye on you. Besides him, there will be myself—a little too stout for active fisticuffs, but still able to help.'
'Well, what of it?' demanded Latimer frozenly.
'Listen and I'll tell you,' was the reply. 'Just as soon as the eclipse starts, we're going to take you, Theremon and I, and deposit you in a little closet with one door, to which is attached one giant lock and no windows. You will remain there for the duration.'
'And afterward,' breathed Latimer fiercely, 'there'll be no one to let me out. I know as well as you do what the coming of the Stars means—I know it far better than you. With all your minds gone, you are not likely to free me. Suffocation or slow starvation, is it? About what I might have expected from a group of scientists. But I don't give my word. It's a matter of principle, and I won't discuss it further.'
Aton seemed perturbed. His faded eyes were troubled. 'Really, Sheerin, locking him—'
'Please!' Sheerin motioned him impatiently to silence. 'I don't think for a moment things will go that far. Latimer has just tried a clever little bluff, but I'm not a psychologist just because I like the sound of the word.' He grinned at the Cultist.
'Come now, you don'treally thinkl'm trying anything as crude as slow starvation. My dear Latimer, if I lock you in the closet, you are not going to see the Darkness, and you are not going to see the Stars. It does not take much of a knowledge of the fundamental creed of the Cult to realize that for you to be hidden from the Stars when they appear means the loss of your immortal soul. Now, I believe you to be an honorable man. I'll accept your word of honor to make no further effort to disrupt proceedings if you'll offer it.'
A vein throbbed in Latimer's temple, and he seemed to shrink within himself as he said thickly, 'You have it!' And then he added with swift fury, 'But it is my consolation that you will all be damned for your deeds of today.' He turned on his heel and stalked to the high three-legged stool by the door.
Sheerin nodded to the columnist. 'Take a seat next to him, Theremon—just as a formality. Hey, Theremon!'
But the newspaperman didn't move. He had gone pale to the lips. 'Look at that!'
The finger he pointed toward the sky shook, and his voice was dry and cracked.
* * *
There was one simultaneous gasp as every eye followed the pointing finger and, for one breathless moment, stared frozenly.
Beta was chipped on one side!
The tiny bit of encroaching blackness was perhaps the width of a fingernail, but to the staring watchers it magnified itself into the crack of doom.
Only for a moment they watched, and after that there was a shrieking confusion that was even shorter of duration and which gave way to an orderly scurry of activity—each man at his prescribed job. At the crucial moment there was no time for emotion. The men were merely scientists with work to do. Even Aton had melted away.
Sheerin said prosaically, 'First contact must have been made fifteen minutes ago.
A little early, but pretty good considering the uncertainties involved in the calculation.' He looked about him and then tiptoed to Theremon, who still remained staring out the window, and dragged him away gently.
'Aton is furious,' he whispered, 'so stay away. He missed first contact on account of this fuss with Latimer, and if you get in his way he'll have you thrown out the window.'
Theremon nodded shortly and sat down. Sheerin stared in surprise at him.
'The devil, man,' he exclaimed, 'you're shaking.'
'Eh?' Theremon licked dry lips and then tried to smile. 'I don't feel very well, and that's a fact.'
The psychologist's eyes hardened. 'You're not losing your nerve?'
'No!' cried Theremon in a flash of indignation. 'Give me a chance, will you? I haven't really believed this rigmarole—not way down beneath, anyway—till just this minute. Give me a chance to get used to the idea. You've
