SLAVE OF ETERNITY

"You have no choice," the patrolman said. "The Council sends for you."

He moved across the veranda of Heric's cottage, bulking dark againstthe sky-glow of Nyark the first city. On the slope of lawn below stoodhis copter, its beetle-black shell glistening faintly in the starshine.

Heric stood rigid with alarm in his doorway, still holding the bookhe had been reading. The night-wind ruffling his hair and the homelysounds from the kitchen where Marta prepared their evening meal madehis danger doubly fantastic.

"They've found out somehow about my dreams," Heric said. "They'll putme through the adjuster and I'll come out of it—someone else. I won'tgo!"

He was a mild man, overseer of the cereal grain fields outside Nyarkthe first city, holding the confidence of his superiors and the respectof his workers. He and Marta had been happy in the quiet eddy of theirisolation, until the dreams came.

The patrolman took a gleaming silver shock-cone from his belt. "I amsorry, Arnol Heric. You must come with me."

Stark panic made Heric drop his book and strike out wildly, smashing afist into the officer's face. The patrolman staggered back, teeteredfor balance on the veranda's edge and fell heavily. The sound of hishead striking the stone walkway below was as definite as the thud of adropped melon.

Heric went down the steps and knelt to feel the man's limp wrist. Therewas no pulse. He put an ear to the slack lips, and there was no breath.Shock numbed him and drove his thoughts into strange, tortured channels.

"I've killed him," he said.

A sound caught his ear and he looked up to see Marta on the darkveranda above him, her face a pale oval blur with enormous,fright-widened eyes. "I didn't intend this to happen, Marta. I—I lostmy head."

She came down at once and put a soft hand on his shoulder. "Of course,of course, darling. Here, let me help you."

Together they lifted the patrolman's body into the copter's controlseat, where it lolled bonelessly against the instrument panel. Herictouched a button and the machine rose and soared eastward on a randomcourse away from Nyark the first city.

They watched, holding hands like uneasy children, until it was lostagainst the stars. Then they went inside to the light and warmth oftheir cottage.

Heric voiced the thought first: "They'll send for me again tomorrow,when he doesn't return."

He had again the ominous sensation, felt a dozen times in as many days,of being very close to understanding the strange auguries that had sotroubled his sleep of late. For a moment he hovered on the brink ofcomplete comprehension before his fearful thought recoiled, leaving himuneasy and bewildered.

When he slept the dream came more strongly than before.

The sere globe of Earth spun below him, frightfully riven by thehalf-healed wounds of some ancient cataclysm. Dull seas steamed andrain fell and vegetation crept across the scars, but there was life inone place only.

There was a ruined city like a forest of standing shards, rising starkand cold against a desolate sky. A horde of silent figures pouredthrough its streets, bent upon a myriad errands whose purposes he mighthave guessed but dared not—he found himself one of the throng, yet his