Edwin Dollard, financial genius and murderer in his time, had entered into a state of suspended animation from which only an equal intelligence could ever awaken him.

The planets and their satellites revolved in their orbits for uncounted centuries, until even the fixed stars shifted and formed new constellations. During this long almost interminable period, no man-made vessels disturbed the equilibrium between the worlds; no man-made radiations penetrated the empty s.p.a.ces of the solar system. A wanderer from Procyon or Sirius, entering the neighborhood of Sol, might well have suspected he had found nine lifeless spheres pursuing a futile and purposeless course about their flaming parent.

So immutable however are the laws of celestial mechanics, once set into operation, that Dollard's ship varied not a centimeter in its elliptical path during those endless dragging years.

But organic life, by its very definition, is highly viable, highly persistent; it is capable of protracted existence in such diverse environments as the imbedded hearts of meteors or the currents of briny polar seas. It is likewise capable of infinite modifications under stress, such as glacial flow, cessation of moisture, loss of sunlight ... or, the rampant onslaught of bacterial disease.

Hardiest of all forms of life, as proved in the last days of the reptilian age, are the carnivorous mammalian orders; these members are generally the most adaptable, intelligent and ubiquitous of living types. And by their conquest of their stubborn environment, they have proven themselves equally the fiercest.

Thus, it was not surprising that eventually the derelict s.p.a.ces between the inner planet of Sol were once again the scene of traffic; not bristling traffic perhaps, but sufficient to present concrete proof a new intelligent race had developed on Terra.

Nor was it anymore surprising to Edwin Dollard, when Dollard awoke, aroused from his long sleep--and conscious in the pa.s.sage of time of no more than a second's absence from the world of sense and light--that this life should have found him.

He awoke, aware of stinging pain in his eyelids and the jabbing of a thousand needles below the surface of his skin. A glaring white bulb, suspended in an ice-blue ceiling, dug into his pupils with relentless intensity.

A voice, couched in a low-throated growl, spoke just above his ear in an unintelligible language. A second voice, farther away, answered with a guttural purring.

Dollard slowly revolved his field of vision until it rested upon the first creature who had spoken. His eyes made out a man-like apparition in a white smock b.u.t.toned to a metal harness, a tall lithe figure whose curiously pointed face regarded him with unblinking interest.

"You are come to, I notice," the creature said, employing a rasping blurred form of English. "I am Shir K'han, of the people of Tegur, detailed to interpret your meager tongue, oh frozen primate."

"You're not human ... but at least you're intelligent," Dollard snorted. "Where am I?"

"On board a vessel of the Tegurian fleet, bound for the home planet."

"Which one do you call 'home'?"

For reply, Shir K'han gestured towards a bulkhead paneling at the far end of the room. Dollard's eyes focussed on a trimensional photo-mural of Terra. In the representation, the continental outlines of the planet were the same; but if the colors were reproduced accurately, then the earth had lost the bulk of its polar cap and become a tropical world. The Sahara was a verdant green, while a great portion of the Amazon valley was inundated by bluish seas.

Dollard attempted to sit up; the struggle was what first caused him to notice his nude body was strapped by polished steel clamps to a long flat porcelain table. Rolling his head to one side, he discovered that the table's rim contained a long shallow trough which had not been scoured too clean. Deepening stains remained of whosever blood it was that had been contributed from the last autopsy performed on the surface of the table.

"Why'm I tied up?" Dollard demanded.

"A temporary precaution," Shir K'han replied, soothingly. The growl of his voice had now reduced itself to a monotonous purr, which reminded Dollard of nothing so much as a ... but then, he shook his head: No!

that couldn't be. Mankind replaced by a thinking species of biped felines--descended from a race of giant jungle cats. The development was fantastic.

"Precaution?" Dollard repeated.

"You might have become violent, primate. Only a few anthropoids are extant, now. And They are scraggly skulkers, hiding out in the brush of the second planet--the world you knew as Venus. But even so, many of them have been known to react quite viciously when captured."

"Then, there are humans left?"

"I see you recognize the difference between our race and yours at once." Shir K'han stiffened with pride. "The gap is quite great."

Dollard noticed a very faint striped pattern could be traced in the fuzzy growth on Shir K'han's bared arms.

"Yes, some members of the previous culture do survive," the feline continued. "Puny specimens. We have been forced to hunt them down.

Unfortunately, they breed slowly."

"I claim no kinship with them," said Dollard. "If you're sniffing around in an effort to find out my sentiments about that, you can stop right now. As a man from the past, I'm strictly for myself." He winked. "What's more, I never did believe that monkey business. You know, about the human race being the only kind of life having souls or intelligence."

"Strange words ... from a primate."

"That's what I say. You look good enough to me. You have an adequate IQ--that's the only test you need to pa.s.s with me. Now, how about getting these clamps off of me?"

Dollard's renewed request incited no action. The feline interpreter's pointed features were impa.s.sive; only the p.r.i.c.ked att.i.tude of his tufted ears indicated he was listening.

"Let's go," Dollard cajoled. "You've revived me--and I think I've proved I'm not dangerous."

"You still do not seem to understand. Your animation from the frozen sleep was undertaken solely because it was a challenge to our science that we could not over-look."

"And a bang-up job you did of it. Followed my directions perfectly."

"We used our own methods," Shir K'han corrected.

"The idea was mine."

"True, but had you known it, there did exist a mathematical solution to your problem of escaping from the fixed orbit your ship adopted.

Apparently, to your misfortune, your training failed to include a knowledge of five-body equations ... so you never arrived at the proper heading you needed to take."

"Naturally, not," the revived industrialist snapped in answer. "But that couldn't be helped. I never professed to be a super-competent astrogator. In my world, in my time, I was a leader of my race--a builder of factories and machines."

"Our archeologists have dug into the ruins of your civilization--without, however, a great deal of curiosity," said Shir K'han coldly. "We found little in it to interest us. We have translated your language--but even so, we uncovered nothing to equal even the barest rudiments of our own science. Our zoologists dismiss you as extra-clever primates--possessed of some knacks, but nowhere on a reasoning, perspicuous level."

"But that's absurd--"

"From our point of view, no. In fact, we still debate whether you primates could have been intelligent enough to have founded your culture without the aid of some early Tegurians. We Tegurians have been superior to the anthropoids as far back as our own history goes, which is to the days of the Great Impetus--the epoch when our race was gifted with great powers and the primates degenerated."

"Nonsense," scoffed Edwin Dollard. "Get me off this s.a.d.i.s.tic table--and I'll demonstrate how smart I am." He squinted, studying the feline's high-domed head and furry chin.

"Now, I've got you pegged," he went on. "You're just a specimen of what a jacked-up tiger would turn out to be, burned under a few million volts of hard radiation. You may be civilized, you and your people--but I bet it took you a million years of high-speed evolution to do it. If it hadn't been for mankind's work with mutable bacteria, you'd still be chasing your tails under the palm trees--"

Shir K'han interrupted him, remarking: "The art of vituperation and scolding always was a characteristic of the various simian species. We have an apt axiom among the people of Tegur. It might be translated: 'Chattering man, empty brain pan'."

At that moment, it occurred to Dollard he was pressing his initial luck too far. No use antagonizing present company.

"All right. I know when I'm bucking the system too hard," he replied cagily. "What _do_ you intend to do with me?"

For answer, the interpreter turned to the second Tegurian in the room, a creature who had stood motionless near the only exit, and uttered a flow of guttural syllables, climaxed by a high-pitched questioning note. The reply was forthcoming almost immediately, spoken in weightier, more deliberate tones.

"The commander says you are to be presented to the leaders of our civilization," Shir K'han reported. "That'll take place when we dock at the home planet in a few hours. In the meanwhile, you may have the run of the ship."