however, after finding several mysterious references to a death ray against which no defense existed." The doctor turned to Don again and asked, "Are the protoplasm tanks all right?"

"Yes sir. Several of the roboes are watching now. Sometimes I think that they know as much about it as I do."

The general swelled up and opened tight-pressed lips but his companion held up a hand, smiling at Dr. Stone. The latter cleared his throat, frowning as he said, "You may be more right than you think, Donald."

Donald looked quickly, seeing that his superior was not joking. "I don't understand, sir; what do you mean?"

"How long would it take completely to destroy the tanks?"

Dumbfounded, Don blurted, "Destroy the tanks after the months of culture, Dr. Stone! Why, why...."

The civilian came to his feet quickly and came to the bewildered and indignant Don, saying kindly, "I know how you feel, son. However, the future of the peoples of the world may be at stake."

"But the roboes perform tasks in the radioactive fields that humans find impossible. They...."

The other placed a hand on his shoulder. "I know. They can withstand radiation deadly to humans, correct?"

Don nodded his head and the civilian continued. "Before we go any further, Donald, perhaps identification would be in order." He turned to the general, now standing. "This is General Adams."

Don gasped as he took the extended hand of the Supreme Commander of all military forces on Earth. "And I," the little man continued, "am your Under-Secretary." His eyes crinkled good naturedly and he chuckled at the young man's greater astonishment, "It's quite evident that your time has been spent in research rather than reading newspapers."

Again Don started to speak but the man, second only to the World President, held up an authoritative hand. "Please don't speak, we haven't much time. Perhaps the General would like to bring you up to date since it would seem that we shall soon be under his direction."

The General cleared his throat nervously, then stated authoritatively, "It should be a small operation, once we ferret out all their hiding places."

"Whose?" demanded Don.

"The roboes," snapped the 

 Prev. P 2/23 next