American Science Fiction #41 — page 4: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

ably: Gated a >| <SPOPWAPREH ON “My spirits picked | up; ° sikiewiver, nised the tall dignified figure, with grizzled hair, standing by the win- dow. “Jim PERIOSHEORS, you: old-. blood- hound.” “Hello, Agiold2 and my hand was lost in his big fist. “Armstrong is a powerfully built man. He played a bone-crushing left end in his college days. You used to néed a convoy of light tanks to. make a sweep around him. I know; I played against. him whén I was a_ blocking baek on the Princeton varsity, A for- mer F.B.I. agent, he had one of the toughest and finest minds in Intelli- gence. Once he picked up a trail, he followed it doggedly. Like the time during the war when he went after government-contract profiteers. Des- _pite: faked invoices, bribed witnesses, id. strong pressure from higher-ups, ra Se is men down and landed He put his hand in his tunic and brought out a letter which he eS me. “J want you to read that, Arnold: Yesterday. every member of the United: Nations received a similar note. No. one takes it seriously, re- garding it as the work of a peace crank. I'd like to hear what you think about it.” . -* when I entered the office and recog- — I put on by glasses and ‘opened the - - letter. . Dear Sirs: eae _ You are herewith given notice to bring peace and freedom to all peoples within thirty days from this date. We are. sick of your broken pledges, your compromises. with principle, your verbal shilly-shally- _ Ing. Give us peace within a- month OF, * shall destroy the earth utterly. “ig Chetzisky. guaSeNIsEs: the name im- mediately. “Chetzisky.” A_ bril- HHant Polish physicist, a refugee who fied the twin tyrannies of Germany and Russia. Unknown to all but a eyes set close together, came vividly — patient of the stupidity of man, THE? WORED ee few, he had played” an jviporeant relet | : in ihe ‘Manhattan Project. His epin- = ions and work had won the respect of the Comptoms, the Oppenheimers, the Seaborgs; even, it’s said of Ein-. = stein himself. “ His small face, with oddly shining to mind. The last time I saw him — was in March, 1946, en route to St. — Louis for the convention of the American Association for the “Ad- vancement of Science. I met him on - the train out of Chicago. His con f versation was bitter with denunca tions of the world’s fumblings toward peace, “We scientists,” Chetzisky had said, — = “give man the means to aid the suf- = fering, to conserve the strength of — = 4 the toiler, to bring more comfort and _ = : leisure to all. But does man appreciate — ; — our work? No! He uses our every — = work to steal from his brother, to a5 cheat, enslave, even to kill him. am ree - SS His eyes became glinting points. as” = he spoke. His guttural tones grew in-_ distinct as.emotion choked him. He | was a scientist of a rare order. Yet — he was a humanist, too; the Suilering -— he knew as a young Pole, son of | tragically poor parents, made him thal way. Chetzisky was savagely, built himself.a hell instead of a pi dise. Science, he felt, could fi t a way to put mankind on its best 1 haviour. as oe § see your point, Doctor,” I had — said. “But science has given the world a dose of the atom bomb and — it hasn’t started behaving.” Sie “Yes, I know. But there must. ‘bec a way. An enforced goodness is bet-— ter than none at all.” He had fallen 3 into a brooding silence, and I had — left him to go to my berth... Next morning I had found *Chetzisky still in’ the lounge car, wrapped im ~ thought. Pe ELL, Arnold, ‘what do you | we. think?” asked Armstrong, break- oe ing in on my recollections. “Frankly, Jim, I believe he could = = do it; he’s that kind of man’? - = oh S “That makes Gaceaie book: com