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discoverer.
The discussion of their own work amounted to no more than an uneasy admission that none of them had
come to much. Talliaferro had followed the literature and knew. His own papers had been minor. The
others had authored nothing of great importance.
None of them face the fact had developed into space-shakers. The colossal dreams of school days
had not come true and that was that. They were competent routine workmen. No less. Unfortunately, no
more. They knew that.
Villiers would have been more. They knew that, too. It was that knowledge, as well as guilt, which kept
them antagonistic.
Talliaferro felt uneasily that Villiers, despite everything, was yet tobe more. The others must be thinking
so, too, and mediocrity could grow quickly unbearable. The mass-transference paper would come to
pass and Villiers would be the great man after all, as he was always fated to be apparently, while his
classmates, with all their advantages, would be forgotten. Their role would be no more than to applaud
from the crowd.
He felt his own envy and chagrin and was ashamed of it, but felt it none the less.
Conversation died, and Kaunas said, his eyes turning away, "Listen, why don't we drop in on old
Villiers?"
There was a false heartiness about it, a completely unconvincing effort at casualness. He added, "No use
leaving bad feelings unnecessarily "
Talliaferro thought: He wants to make sure about the mass-transference. He's hoping itis only a
madman's nightmare so he can sleep tonight.
But he was curious himself, so he made no objection, and even Ryger shrugged with ill grace and said,
"Hell, why not?"
It was a little before eleven then.
Talliaferro was awakened by the insistent ringing of his door signal. He hitched himself to one elbow in
the darkness and felt distinctly outraged. The soft glow of the ceiling indicator showed it to be not quite
four in the morning.
He cried out, "Who is it?" The ringing continued in short, insistent spurts. Growling, Talliaferro slipped
into his bathrobe. He opened the door and blinked in the corridor light. He recognized the man who
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faced him from the trimensionals he had seen often enough.
Nevertheless, the man said in an abrupt whisper, "My name is Hubert Mandel."
"Yes, sir," said Talliaferro. Mandel was one of the Names in astronomy, prominent enough to have an
important executive position with the World Astronomical Bureau, active enough to be Chairman of the
Astronautics section here at the Convention.
It suddenly struck Talliaferro that it was Mandel for whom Villiers claimed to have demonstrated
mass-transference. The thought of Villiers was somehow a sobering one.
Mandel said, "You are Dr. Edward Talliaferro?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then dress and come with me. It is very important. It concerns a mutual acquaintance."
"Dr. Villiers?"
Mandel's eyes flickered a bit. His brows and lashes were so fair as to give those eyes a naked, unfringed
appearance. His hair was silky-thin, his age about fifty. He said, "Why Villiers?"
"He mentioned you last evening. I don't know any other mutual acquaintance."
Mandel nodded, waited for Talliaferro to finish slipping into his clothes, then turned and led the way.
Ryger and Kaunas were waiting in a room one floor above Talliaferro's. Kaunas's eyes were red and
troubled. Ryger was smoking a cigarette with impatient puffs.
Talliaferro said, "We're all here. Another reunion." It fell flat.
He took a seat and the three stared at one another. Ryger shrugged.
Mandel paced the floor, hands keep in his pockets. He said, "I apologize for any inconvenience,
gentlemen, and I thank you for your co-operation. I would like more of it. Our friend, Romero Villiers, is
dead. About an hour ago, his body was removed from the hotel. The medical judgment is heart failure."
There was a stunned silence. Ryger's cigarette hovered halfway to his lips, then sank slowly without
completing its journey.
"Poor devil," said Talliaferro.
"Horrible," whispered Kaunas hoarsely. "He was "
His voice played out.
Ryger shook himself. "Well, he had a bad heart. There's nothing to be done."
"One little thing," corrected Mandel quietly. "Recovery."
"What does that mean?" asked Ryger sharply.
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Mandel said, "When did you three see him last?"
Talliaferro spoke. "Last evening. It turned out to be a reunion. We all met for the first time in ten years. It
wasn't a pleasant meeting, I'm sorry to say. Villiers felt he had cause for anger with us, and he was
angry."
"That was when?"
"About nine, the first time."
"The first time?"
"We saw him again later in the evening."
Kaunas looked troubled. "He had left angrily. We couldn't leave it at that. We had to try. It wasn't as if
we hadn't all been friends at one time. So we went to his room and "
Mandel pounced on that. "You were all in his room?"
"Yes," said Kaunas, surprised.
"About when?"
"Eleven, I think." He looked at the others. Talliaferro nodded.
"And how long did you stay?"
"Two minutes," put in Ryger. "He ordered us out as though we were after his paper." He paused as
though expecting Mandel to ask what paper, but Mandel said nothing. He went on. "I think he kept it
under his pillow. At least he lay across the pillow as he yelled at us to leave."
"He may have been dying then," said Kaunas, in a sick whisper.
"Not then," said Mandel shortly. "So you probably all left fingerprints."
"Probably," said Talliaferro. He was losing some of his automatic respect for Mandel and a sense of
impatience was returning. Itwas four in the morning, Mandel or no. He said, "Now what's all this about?"
"Well, gentlemen," said Mandel, "there's more to Villiers' death than the fact of death. Villiers' paper, the
only copy of it as far as I know, was stuffed into the cigarette flash-disposal unit and only scraps of it
were left. I've never seen or read the paper, but I knew enough about the matter to be willing to swear in
court if necessary that the remnants of unflashed paper in the disposal unit were of the paper he was
planning to give at this Convention. You seem doubtful, Dr. Ryger."
Ryger smiled sourly. "Doubtful that he was going to give it. If you want my opinion, sir, he was mad. For
ten years he was a prisoner of Earth and he fantasied mass-transference as escape. It was all that kept
him alive probably. He rigged up some sort of fraudulent demonstration. I don't say it was deliberate
fraud. He was probably madly sincere, and sincerely mad. Last evening was the climax. He came to our
rooms he hated us for having escaped Earth and triumphed over us. It was what he had lived for for
ten years. It may have shocked him back to some form of sanity. He knew he couldn't actually give the
paper; there was nothing to give. So he burnt it and his heart gave out. Itis too bad."
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Mandel listened to the Cerian astronomer, wearing a look of sharp disapproval. He said, "Very glib, Dr.
Ryger, but quite wrong. I am not as easily fooled by fraudulent demonstrations as you may believe. Now
according to the registration data, which I have been forced to check rather hastily, you three were his
classmates at college. Is that right?"
They nodded.
"Are there any other classmates of yours present at the Convention?"
"No," said Kaunas. "We were the only four qualifying for a doctorate in astronomy that year. At least he
would have qualified except "
"Yes, I understand," said Mandel. "Well, then, in that case one of you three visited Villiers in his room
one last time at midnight."
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