The initial bitterness which followed the debacle of 1955 had passed, we were glad to see. Porters no longer spat in the faces of white men. They were polite, but we had not been in the city a half hour before we sensed something else. There was an edge to that politeness. It was as Major Reid had written before we left San Francisco—a subtle change had come over Asia in the previous few years. They smiled—they waited on us—they bent over backwards to atone for the excesses of the first years of

First Stimson briefed us on the geography of our objective. Yat was a volcanic island, one of a group strung across the shallow sea east of Borneo and north of Celebese. It was almost circular, with a diameter of about seven miles, and was entirely covered by a dense tropical forest. The principal feature of the island was an extinct volcanic crater, rising to an altitude of 2,000 feet, at the east end of the island. The crater measured about two miles across, and perhaps a third of its area was

I lost track of direction almost at once. The trail zigzagged a couple of times, and then I sensed that we were in a covered passage. After a few more steps and a turn, a light appeared ahead, to show we were walking in a concrete lined tunnel. Our captors had split themselves into two groups, a half dozen ahead and an equal number behind. Soon there appeared a metal door in one wall, which proved to be the entrance to an elevator. We all squeezed in, and were taken down a distance which surely

But the awakening was at hand. If we doubted Rau's intentions, one look at the cold Mongol faces of the guards was enough to dispel any hope. Baker tried to sum it up. "No use trying to argue with him. Fact is, we won't even see Rau again. We could, of course, simply call it quits and wait for them, but I'd rather fight it out. Anyone have an idea?" Martin hopped up on the bench and studied the ventilator. He reached one arm in as far as possible, and reported that there was a bend about a foot

Kazu crossed the flat eastern half of Yat in less than a minute, evidently wishing to get out of range of Rau's artillery as quickly as possible. His feet tore through the groves as a normal man's might through a field of clover; indeed, he experienced more trouble from the softness of the ground than from any vegetation. As we were soon to learn, one of the disadvantages of Kazu's size lay in the mechanical properties of the world as experienced by him. Kazu stood almost 600 feet high, or rough

"Feel better?" he inquired cheerfully. He helped me up and I staggered to the window. The room was perched, as usual, on a hilltop, but the vegetation around was not tropical jungle. I turned to the others, noting as I did that the room was cleaned up. "Where—" I started, with a gesture outside. Baker stopped me and led me to an improvised canvas hammock. "You really got a nasty one," he said. "You've been out two days." "Two days!" I tried to rise, but the effort so increased the headache that

We did not remain to see the outcome of the battle, but presently Martin turned the radio on. The news at first was fragmentary. Word that a Russian plane had atom bombed the new Buddha spread across China, and with it ended the last shreds of communist prestige. The armies which had been pro-communist turned on their officers. Mao himself was murdered on the battlefield before Kazu was out of sight. The former red defenders of Shanghai massacred twenty thousand hapless Russian emigrants. All ac

This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction November 1952. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Obvious punctuation errors have been corrected. Corrections made: page 6 original: wind, and its damned serious." replacement: wind, and it's damned serious." page 16 original: first fence, and affair of steel posts replacement: first fence, an affair of steel posts page 31 original: When Baker as only part-way replaceme