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with her, making a little glow all around. She saw roots, pebbles, black rot, worn tunnels, worms. Tier on tier of them, her vision penetrating the solid ground. And at the same time, the knowledge that these same sorts of things were coursing up through her.

And still she continued to sink at a speed that increased, as if the law of gravitation applied to her in a diminished way. She dropped from black soil through gray clay and into pale limestone.

Her tortured, rock-permeated lungs sucked at rock and drew in air. She wondered madly if a volume of air were falling with her through the stone.

A glitter of quartz. The momentary openness of a foot-high cavern with a trickle of water. And then she was sliding down a black basalt column, half inside it, half inside gold-flecked ore. Then just black basalt. And always faster.

It grew hot, then hotter, as if she were approaching the mythical eternal fires.

At first glance Theodor thought the Deep Space Bar was empty. Then he saw a figure hunched monkeylike on the last stool, almost lost in the blue shadows, while behind the bar, her crystal dress blending with the tiers of sparkling glasses, stood a grave-eyed young girl who could hardly have been fifteen.

The TV was saying, “… in addition, a number of mysterious disappearances of high-rating individuals have been reported. These are thought to be cases of misunderstanding, illusory apprehension, and impulse traveling⁠—a result of the unusual stresses of the time. Finally, a few suggestible individuals in various parts of the globe, especially the Indian Peninsula, have declared themselves to be ‘gods’ and in some way responsible for current events.

“It is thought⁠—”

The girl switched off the TV and took Theodor’s order, explaining casually, “Joe wanted to go to a Kometevskyite meeting, so I took over for him.” When she had prepared Theodor’s highball, she announced, “I’ll have a drink with you gentlemen,” and squeezed herself a glass of pomegranate juice.

The monkeylike figure muttered, “Scotch-and-soda,” then turned toward Edmund and asked, “And what is your reaction to all this, sir?”

Theodor recognized the shrunken wrinkle-seamed face. It was Colonel Fortescue, a military antique long retired from the Peace Patrol and reputed to have seen actual fighting in the Last Age of Madness. Now, for some reason, the face sported a knowing smile.

Theodor shrugged. Just then the TV “big news” light blinked blue and the girl switched on audio. The Colonel winked at Theodor.

“… confirming the disappearance of Jupiter’s moons. But two other utterly fantastic reports have just been received. First, Lunar Observatory One says that it is visually tracking fourteen small bodies which it believes may be the lost moons of Jupiter. They are moving outward from the Solar System at an incredible velocity and are already beyond the orbit of Saturn!”

The Colonel said, “Ah!”

“Second, Palomar reports a large number of dark bodies approaching the Solar System at an equally incredible velocity. They are at about twice the distance of Pluto, but closing in fast! We will be on the air with further details as soon as possible.”

The Colonel said, “Ah-ha!”

Theodor stared at him. The old man’s self-satisfied poise was almost amusing.

“Are you a Kometevskyite?” Theodor asked him.

The Colonel laughed. “Of course not, my boy. Those poor people are fumbling in the dark. Don’t you see what’s happened?”

“Frankly, no.”

The Colonel leaned toward Theodor and whispered gruffly, “The Divine Plan. God is a military strategist, naturally.”

Then he lifted the scotch-and-soda in his clawlike hand and took a satisfying swallow.

“I knew it all along, of course,” he went on musingly, “but this last news makes it as plain as a rocket blast, at least to anyone who knows military strategy. Look here, my boy, suppose you were commanding a fleet and got wind of the enemy’s approach⁠—what would you do? Why, you’d send your scouts and destroyers fanning out toward them. Behind that screen you’d mass your heavy ships. Then⁠—”

“You don’t mean to imply⁠—” Theodor interrupted.

The girl behind the bar looked at them both cryptically.

“Of course I do!” the Colonel cut in sharply. “It’s a war between the forces of good and evil. The bright suns and planets are on one side, the dark on the other. The moons are the destroyers, Jupiter and Saturn are the big battleships, while we’re on a heavy cruiser, I’m proud to say. We’ll probably go into action soon. Be a corking fight, what? And all by divine strategy!”

He chuckled and took another big drink. Theodor looked at him sourly. The girl behind the bar polished a glass and said nothing.

Dotty suddenly began to turn and toss, and a look of terror came over her sleeping face. Celeste leaned forward apprehensively.

The child’s lips worked and Celeste made out the sleepy-fuzzy words: “They’ve found out where we’re hiding. They’re coming to get us. No! Please, no!”

Celeste’s reactions were mixed. She felt worried about Dotty and at the same time almost in terror of her, as if the little girl were an agent of supernatural forces. She told herself that this fear was an expression of her own hostility, yet she didn’t really believe it. She touched the child’s hand.

Dotty’s eyes opened without making Celeste feel she had quite come awake. After a bit she looked at Celeste and her little lips parted in a smile.

“Hello,” she said sleepily. “I’ve been having such funny dreams.” Then, after a pause, frowning, “I really am a god, you know. It feels very queer.”

“Yes, dear?” Celeste prompted uneasily. “Shall I call Frieda?”

The smile left Dotty’s lips. “Why do you act so nervous around me?” she asked. “Don’t you love me, Mummy?”

Celeste started at the word. Her throat closed. Then, very slowly, her face broke into a radiant smile. “Of course I do, darling. I love you very much.”

Dotty nodded happily, her eyes already closed again.

There was a sudden flurry of excited voices beyond the door. Celeste heard her name called. She stood up.

“I’m going to have to go out and talk with the others,” she

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