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"Get out of here," Drake thought sharply.
The latch of the door-was at a normal height. But it was hard to believe
that he would be able to maneuver the gigantic structure with such a
comparatively tiny leverage. It opened lightly, gently, like a superbly
balanced machine. Drake stepped out into the pressing fog and began,
swiftly at first, and then with a developing caution, to go down the
steps. No use landing up in a pool of deep water. The hundredth step was
the last; and there was no water. There was nothing except mists, no
foundations for the steps, no ground. On hands and knees, dizzy with a
sudden vertigo, Drake crawled back up the steps. He was so weak that
inches only seemed to recede behind him. The nightmarish feeling came
that the steps were going to crumble under him, now that he had
discovered that their base wasnothing. A second, greater fear came that
the door would not open from the outside, and he would be cut off here,
on the edge of eternity, forever. But it did open. It took all the
THE SEARCH
strength of his weakened body. He lay on the floor inside and after a
while the awful wonder came to his mind: What did a girl caned Selanie,
dispensing marvelous gadgets on train, have to do with this? There
seemed to be no answer His funk yielded to the sense of safety produced
by the passing minutes. He stood up, ashamed of his terror, and hi; mind
grooving to a purpose. He must explore the fantastic place from cellar
to roof. Somewhere, there would be a cache of the cups that created
their own water. And perhaps also there would be food. Soon, he would
have to eat and drink. But first, to one of the offices. Examine every
cabinet break open the desk drawers and search them. It wasn't necessary
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to break anything. The drawers opened at the slightest tug. The cabinet
doors were unlocked. In- side were journals, ledgers, curious-looking
files. Absorbed, Drake glanced blurrily through several that he had
spread out on the great desk, blurrily because his hands were shaking
and his brain seemed to be jumping. Finally, with an effort of will, he
pushed everything aside but one of the journals. This he opened at
random, and read the words printed there: SYNOPSIS OF REPORT OF
POSSESSOR KINGSTON CRAIG IN THE MATTER OF THE EMPIRE OF LYCEUS II A. D.
27,3427,378
Frowning, Drake stared at the date; then he read on:
The normal history of the period is a tale of cunning usurpation of
power by a ruthless ruler. A careful study of the man revealed an
unnatural urge to protect himself at the expense of others. TEMPORARY
SOLUTION: A warning to the Emperor, who nearly collapsed when he
realized that he was confronted by a Possessor. His instinct for
self-preservation impelled him to give guarantees as to future conduct.
COMMENT: This solution produced a probability world Type 5, and must be
considered temporary because of the very involved permanent work that
Professor Link is doing on the fringes of the entire two hundred
seventy-third century. CONCLUSION: Returned to the Palace of Immortality
after an absence of three days.
Drake sat there, stiMy at first, then he leaned back in
his chair; but the same blank impression remained in his mind. There
seemed to be nothing to think about the report. At last, he turned a
leaf, and read:
SYNOPSIS OF REPORT OF POSSESSOR KINGSTON CRAIG
This is the case of Laird Graynon, Police inspector, 900th Sector
Station, New York City, who on July 7, A.D. 2830 was falsely convicted
of accepting bribes, and de- energized. SOLUTION: Obtained the
retirement of Inspector Graynon two months before the date given in the
charge. He retired to his farm, and henceforth exerted the very minimum
of influence on the larger scene of existence. He lived in this
probability world of his own until his death in 2874, and thus provided
an almost perfect 290A.
CONCLUSION: Returned to the Palace of Immortality after one hour.
There were more entries, hundredsthousands altogether in the several
journals. Each one was a "REPORT OK; POSSESSOR KINGSTON CRAIG," and
always he returned to the "Palace of Immortality" after so many days, or
hours, or weeks. Once it was three months, and that was an obscure,
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impersonal affair that dealt with the "establishment of the time of
demarcation between the ninety-eighth and ninety- ninth centuries" and
involved "the resurrection into active, personal probability worlds of
their own of three murdered men, named" The sharpening pangs of thirst
and hunger brought to Drake a picture of himself sitting in this immense
and terrible building, reading the fanciful scrawlings of a man who must
be mad. It struck him that the seemingly sourceless light of the room
was growing dimmer. The light must come in some way from outside. Out in
the vast, empty corridor, he realized the truth. The mists above the
ceiling window were graying darkening. Night was falling. He tried not
to think of that, of being alone in this tomblike building, watching the
gloom creep over the gray marble, wondering what things might come out
of hiding once the darkness grew impenetrable.
"Stop it, you fool!" Drake said aloud, savagely.
His voice sounded hollow against the silence. He thought: There must be
a place here where thesePossessorshad lived. This floor was all offices,
but there were other floors.
He must find a stairway. He had seen none on the mail corridor.
He found one fifty feet along the first side corridor. broad staircase.
Drake bounded up the steps and tried the first door he came to. It
opened into the living room of magnificent apartment. There were seven
rooms, including E kitchen that gleamed in the dimming light, and the
built-jr cupboards of which were packed with transparent containers The
contents were foods both familiar and strange Drake felt without
emotion. Nor was he surprised as he manipulated a tiny lever at the top
of a can of pears and the fruit spilled out onto the table, although the
can had no] opened in any way. He saw to it that he had a dish for the
next attempt; that was all. Later, after he had eaten, he searched for
light switches. But it was becoming too dark to see. The main bedroom
had a canopied bed that loomed in the darkness, and there were pajamas
in a drawer. Lying between the cool sheets, his body heavy with
approaching sleep, Drake thought vaguely: That girl Selanie and her fear
of the old manwhy had she been afraid. And what could have happened in
the trailer that had irrevocably precipitated Ralph Carson Drake into
this?
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