Front matter (continued 2)

Hanson took a deep breath. Maculay the physicist had become Cliff Maculay the hell-raiser in just that short a time, because he was once more faced with the insoluble.

"No!" yelled Hanson.

But Maculay laughed. "Might as well wreck it," he jeered. "Better to wreck this fool's work than destroy the universe. Damn idiot, Clifford Maculay. Better—"

Maculay slammed the Upper switch to the right.

"—let the ne'er-do-well foul it right!"

Maculay slammed the Lower switch to the left.

There was a perceptible shift in the frame of reference, a hiatus in the solidity of things, like the rug slipping on the polished floor, like the fancy movable steps in the Fun House, like the bottom of the quicksand lake, like space itself being warped.

Then Arcturus passed the nearby viewport in a single flash of blue-white, and seconds afterwards a second star flashed, then a third.

"The backward sort," chortled Maculay. He was neither Maculay the Physicist now, nor was he Maculay the hell-raiser; he was a glad mixture of both. "It came to me," he told Hanson, "just like That!"

"But—?"

"Easy. Easy. The output from the upper generator creates negative space. But before it can establish an expanding field, the output of the lower generator nullifies it. For the lower generator is making a field of positive space equal to the force from above. Take unity. Add unity and you have two. Cancel one unity and you have unity—plus a spacedriver!"

Thirty thousand light years away, a recorder wiggled, a bell rang, and a sentient creature came out of a quiet complacence with a roar. Then came the clangor of a huge alarm and other creatures came tumbling into the huge room. They watched the recorder anxiously; then as it levelled off they left, slowly. Six remained; the others got into a small spacecraft and took off. There would be no nova for the suppression squad to extinguish; all that was needed was for the safety squad to go there and teach newcomers how not to play with fire.