THE ANSWER

                          BY GEORGE O. SMITH

                         Illustrated by Orban

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
              Astounding Science-Fiction, February 1947.
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]


Robert Hohmann smiled superciliously at the man before him. "You have
nerve," he said. It might have been a compliment excepting that the
tone of the words was definitely sarcastic. "You have the colossal
effrontery to come here before me and tell me what I can do and what I
cannot do."

Greg Hammond said, quietly, "Shall I repeat it? You are not to attempt
the construction of the plutonium producing uranium pile."

"Or else--what?" sneered Hohmann.

"The United Nations makes no threats," said Greg. "We are not a
military organization. We are the voice of the people--including yours,
Hohmann. We merely set forth that which the people desire, and remind
them of it. If someone--you in this case--goes against the will of the
people, it will be for the people to decide his fate."

"You do not understand," said Hohmann, "nor can I possibly penetrate
your illogic reasoning. The person is secondary to the State. Therefore
it is for the State to--"

"The State is the result of the people," returned the United Nations
representative. "Were it not for the people, there could be no State."

"Were it not for the State," thundered Hohmann in a ringing voice,
"people could not exist in the luxury they have. Man would still be
pitted against man and brother against brother. The State combines them
into an insoluble unit."

"The United Nations combines all States into an insoluble unit,"
replied Hammond.

"Which believes itself capable of telling me what I can and cannot do!"

"You, as dictator, find little trouble in telling your subjects just
how and what to do. You back up your demands with threats of death."

Hohmann smiled contentedly. "So, my bright young friend, you must admit
that your United Nations organization is no different than Robert
Hohmann, dictator. I issue orders which may conflict with the desires
of some of my people. You issue orders which occasionally conflict with
some of the desires of your States. Mine in this case."

"We issue orders only when the desires of a State are directed against
the common cause," said Hammond.

"A common cause decided by people other than those who will benefit
from my act," snapped Hohmann.

"This gets us nowhere," said Hammond with an air of finality. "You are,
therefore, directed to cease in your plan to construct the plutonium
producing uranium pile."

"The trouble with democratic organizations," said Hohmann sourly, "is
that they will go to any lengths to preserve their people. Even to the
point of permitting, under democratic principle, the existence of an
organization directed against the democracy itself. This, they claim,
shows the true strength of democracy, since if it stands even when
permitting an outfit to bore from within against it, it is therefore
strong. A single man is worth more than the seat of government! Ha!
Well, we shall start our uranium pile, and we shall produce plutonium.
And by the time your democratic organization gets through arguing,
voting, and deciding what to do about us--then preparing for it--and
finally acting, we can and will be unbeatable. As for you, who have the
temerity to come here with your toothless demand, you shall be hostage,
a worker willing or unwilling in the initial plutonium separation
plant!" Hohmann turned to the guards and said: "Remove him!"

Greg Hammond was led from the large hall amid the jeers of Hohmann's
cohorts. As he left, a discussion started upon the construction of the
illegal uranium pile.

Hammond went quietly. He knew that he had the backing of the world,
and the world would not let him down. He was convinced that Hohmann's
remark was right. Greg Hammond was more valuable than government
itself--and government would not let him die.

       *       *       *       *       *

Hohmann was no fool. The dictator knew that he was bucking the combined
resources of the world, and it worried him somewhat, even though he
put up a brave front and daily told his people that the United Nations
would not act against him.

The espionage that went on reported that little was being done. Hohmann
trebled the external espionage, and multiplied the internal agencies
tenfold. He was taking no chances. Materials shipped into his country
were followed to the addressee, who was then investigated. Every mail
carrier and delivery boy was a member of Hohmann's Intelligence Group.
Shipments of manufactured articles were stopped or diverted; Hohmann
knew that the plating on a cigar lighter might contain fissionable
material.

But there were no moves on the part of the United Nations that
Hohmann's Intelligence Group could detect.

And it was the lack of action--even lack of anything other than
denunciation--that worried him into calling a Security Meeting.

His hall filled to overflowing with higher-ups, Robert Hohmann faced
them and said:

"We are here because of a singular lack of activity on the part of
those who have reason to fear us. Reprisals may come in many ways,
some of them must be new and terrible, even though they are now
undetectable. The problem of the pushbutton war is known to all--why
drop bombs when bombs may be shipped in among the incoming merchandise,
assembled in a tall tower, and touched off by radio. We, therefore,
must locate the manner of the reprisals."

Worried faces nodded.

"This is no war of nerves," thundered Hohmann. "It is possible to
cause mental confusion in someone by merely ignoring his overt act--he
eventually spends more time worrying about what you intend to do about
it than he does in preparation. This will not work. Admittedly we
have multiplied our Intelligence Group in an effort along this same
reasoning. The lack of action on the part of the United Nations has
caused some concern. But we are not an individual, and we can divert a
carefully calculated number of workers to investigate while the rest of
us can prepare for war. The problem, again I must admit, has achieved a
rather overrated proportion, hence this meeting."

Professor Haldrick looked up at Hohmann and said, quietly, "In other
words, Führer Hohmann, even though you state that the so-called war of
nerves cannot succeed, we are meeting to solve that very problem?"

Hohmann hissed at Haldrick and snarled for the professor to be quiet.

"Now," said Hohmann, "what has been occurring lately that might
possibly be construed as being out of the line of ordinary happenings?"

General Friedrice shrugged. "I must admit that the mail has increased
markedly since Hammond's incarceration. Letters pour in from all over
the world to this government bureau and that government agency. They
plead, they cajole, and they call names."

"I can imagine your fear at being called names," laughed Hohmann.

"Indeed, we are cringing abjectly," replied General Friedrice, who
would have had to reduce his figure by at least seventy pounds before
he could possibly cringe without hurting himself. "We find ourselves in
a rather strange circumstance, however. These letters are, of course,
saved. This makes for too much paper work."

"We can take care of that," said Hohmann idly.

"I know. But that is the only thing I know of," said Friedrice.

"Enough," said Hohmann. "This is another example of the
confusion-method. Our enemies hope to worry us by doing nothing--which
is expected to make us fear something ultra-secret. Well, to a certain
extent they have worried us. Not to any dangerous point, however,
for we are too strong to be defeated by a mental condition. This
overbearing arrival of letters is another thing. All letters must be
opened and read, for some of them do contain much valuable information.
They must all be saved and filed, for unless we have previous letters
from some correspondent, we cannot know by comparison, whether a
future letter containing information is false or true. A letter giving
information that comes from a known correspondent who is helpful in
the past will be treated with more respect than the same information
coming from someone who has written reams of misdirection, falsity, and
ranting notes depicting dire results if we do not release Hammond and
behave ourselves."

Hohmann shrugged.

"Even so, we cannot be shunted aside," he added. "We have plenty
of people who can take care of the misdirection, just to see that
something isn't happening to us. The rest of us can continue preparing.
Which brings me to another point."

Hohmann paused dramatically.

"When I press this key," he said, indicating the diamond-studded
telegraph-style key, "the uranium pile will start to go. The key is
connected to the restrainer-rod controls of the pile; when pressed,
the rods leave the pre-set positions of no-reaction and fall under the
automatic controlling circuits. The pile will then start functioning at
approximately ten kilowatts. After checking, it will be advanced to
a more productive power, and we are making the first step toward our
glorious future."

       *       *       *       *       *

A commotion started at the door, and everybody's head turned to see the
guards bringing in Greg Hammond.

He shrugged off the guards and faced Hohmann defiantly.

"The United Nations have not stopped me," said Hohmann.

"The United Nations will never try to stop you," said Hammond quietly.
"We can only advise. Whatever is done, whatever may be started, we only
advise. You make your own future, Hohmann. Every man makes his own
future. And up until he starts that which is forbidden, he may stop
with no danger. Once your uranium pile is started, Dictator Hohmann,
you cannot retrack."

"I am about to start it now," smiled Hohmann.

"I warn you again to stop and think. You are not violating our laws
until you press that key, therefore we can initiate no punishment. Once
the key is pressed and the uranium pile starts, you are a violator and
subject to punishment."

Hohmann laughed uproariously. "This starting will be secret," he said.
"Just as any starting may be secret. I, give me credit for it, gave
warning; otherwise we might have completed our pile of bombs and been
ready to attack before your precious, toothless organization could
act."

"We may not be toothless," said Hammond. "I ask you to consider, and
once again warn you to desist. Building the pile is a misdemeanor.
Producing plutonium is outlawed. The final analysis, Hohmann, is
whether the plutonium is separated or not."

Hohmann laughed again. "You cavil," he told the United Nations
representative. "First it was mere contemplation that was evil. Then
the start was considered evil. Now we find that you think it dangerous
but not evil until we start the pile. Next you tell us that we can
start our pile providing we do not use the plutonium it produces.
Each time you back up--like the average democracy. Your final step of
course, is to protest vigorously while the bombs are exploding in your
cities. Fool!"

He reached for the key.

"Stop," said Hammond. "It is dangerous."

"So is crossing any street," said Führer Hohmann.

He pressed the key vigorously, and a simultaneous flash went off,
taking his picture for history. Somewhere in the country, well hidden
and removed from danger to the populace, the control rods moved, and
a flow of neutrons started to pass upward through the great pile of
uranium and moderator.

The nerves of the men present twitched. Strain. Those who held fear of
reprisals were half expecting something dire to happen simultaneously
with the start of the pile. Those who had no fear felt the surge of
exultation as they took their first real step towards world domination.

It grew warm in the room, but nothing happened. Then as the first
report came in that the uranium pile was working, Hohmann dismissed the
audience with a grand promise for the future.

       *       *       *       *       *

Führer Hohmann faced General Unger with fury. "You must be more
careful!" exploded Hohmann.

"But I am careful," returned the general.

"Then why do I receive a letter that is radioactive?" demanded Hohmann
angrily. "Feel it--it is warm!"

Unger felt the letter but felt nothing untoward. "I feel nothing," he
said.

Hohmann opened a cabinet and removed a counter. He held the letter to
it and the counter clicked in rapid succession.

"See?" stormed Hohmann. "Now, before you find yourself removed from
public--and private--life, tell me how and why this must happen?"

"If it actually happened, it is an error, and some underling will be
treated severely--"

"The head will be treated severely as a warning," shouted Hohmann.
"Pass no buck, Unger. Your men are responsible to you--but you are
equally responsible for them. Me--I think I will kill you myself! You
might have deprived our people of a leader!"

Hohmann advanced toward the general, who faded back away from him.
Across the vast office went the two of them, slowly and stalking,
catlike. The general backed up, his face contorted with fear.

"Yesterday I start our pile," stormed Hohmann, "and this morning I get
a radioactive letter! Twenty-four hours! Have you no shielding around
that pile?" Hohmann grinned wolfishly. "Seems to me that I should lock
you up in your own office over at the laboratory. Then you'd find that
shielding is desirable, you idiot. Radiating like this--to render hot a
letter, or pile of paper from which this letter came. Bah!"

He went forward again, and General Unger felt the dilemma he was in.
He could not strike back; to kill this leader would bring about his
own very slow and very painful death. To submit was death, but Hohmann
was a good pistol shot and it would be quick. Yet to prolong life for
another few precious moments, Unger retreated before the blazing eyes
of his leader.

He backed, and felt the filing cabinets block his further retreat. He
had crossed the vast office, backwards.

He pressed back against the cabinets and felt a warm wave of fear flush
up through him. It rose and rose, and he pressed harder and harder back
against the cabinets--

His yell of pain shattered the air. Hohmann startled, and the pistol
went off with a loud racket. It missed, but General Unger was facing
away from him, looking at the cabinets and rubbing his elbow.

Tentatively, Unger reached forward and touched a finger to the handle
of the nearest file drawer.

He jerked it back, and blew upon it.

"Hohmann," he said. "They're hot!"

"Hot, you idiot?" screamed Hohmann. He wet his forefinger and touched
the metal of the drawer. There was a faint sizzle and Hohmann jerked
his hand back too.

"Fire!" he yelled, racing for an extinguisher. With a hook, he hurled
the drawer open and hit it with the spray. It exploded into a cloud,
a cloud that choked them and sent them from the room in a hurry. Hot
carbon tetrachloride vapor is not attractive.

Men piled into the room, followed shortly by the official palace
firemen. Shortly the head man emerged.

"Führer," he said apologetically, "the cabinets are hot, but there has
been no fire."

"No fire? Then how--"

The alarm rang again, and they raced to the office of General
Friedrice, who was standing outside with a look of fear on his face.

"The file cabinets?" asked Hohmann.

The general nodded dumbly.

"Fire?"

"No--just hot."

"But there must be some reason--?"

General Unger looked up nervously. "Radioactivity?" he said.

"But to collect that much radioactivity," said Hohmann, "would take
time. And why was it not noticed sooner?"

"That I do not know."

"Come--we'll read the Intelligence News Report," said Hohmann, leaving
on a dead run.

He had the tape in his hand as they came up with him; they listened to
his voice read the words from the tape.

"... mail carriers resign as mailboxes are hot to touch. Minor fire in
business offices of Greggham & Son, no damage done. Fire departments in
all cities are rushed to danger points. Conference called to discuss
the outbreak of spontaneous fires in government offices. Professor
Haldrick claims all fires not dangerous--"

Hohmann turned to Unger. "You're the head of Nuclear Physics," he
stormed. "I want a complete report in twenty-four hours!"

       *       *       *       *       *

The hours passed. The fires grew. No longer were they merely hotboxes,
but in some important cases open flames broke out and consumed the
paper. The charred ash continued to be too hot to the touch, and there
was panic in the country.

Unger came at last. Dejected and pale with fear.

"Well," stormed Hohmann, "what is it?"

"I'm not certain other than its effect," said Unger shakily. "All paper
is artificially radioactive, and it heats up when the radioelements
approach the critical mass--"

"Get Hammond!" screamed the dictator.

The United Nations representative was brought. He came with a smile.

"What is this?" stormed Hohmann.

"Your own decision," replied the representative. "You should not have
started the pile."

"Go on," gritted Hohmann.

Greg Hammond smiled. "Plutonium has a characteristics radiation that we
do not quite understand," he explained. "However, this radiation will
cause fission in certain types of medium-long lived radioelements. The
range of the plutonium radiation is unknown, but it is great enough to
bathe the entire country. You will find that most government offices
are bulging with reams and reams of correspondence, many of which
are over the critical mass. Nothing happens until someone turns on a
plutonium-producing uranium pile, lets it run for a few hours, and the
accumulation of plutonium starts. Right now, Hohmann, you have about
four hours before most of your government offices go sky-high--from
their own red tape." Greg Hammond smiled. "The United Nations only
advises," he said. "And many millions of letters of advice arrived,
all written on radioelemental paper. Had you taken that advice, the
paper would have been innocuous inside of about thirty or forty years.
You did not. Now you have lost completely, Hohmann, for the radiation
from that paper when bombarded with the plutonium radiation, produces a
whole string of secondary radioelements in your offices, in your desks,
in your bodies, and in your air. The ash from burning is still hot,
Hohmann, and the trucks that will carry the deadly paper will be as
deadly. Your very country will be subject to slow fission if you start
another uranium pile for several hundred years. I'd advise you to stop
the one that is now running, Hohmann."

"I'll let the world go up with me," screamed the dictator.

"That it will not do," said Hammond. "You see; if you do not shut it
off by yourself, we'll all be dead in an hour, after which my cohorts
can locate the pile with neither difficulty nor interference. Make your
choice, dictator. And remember, the United Nations only advises, never
demands. Our advice, however, may be said to be written with letters of
fire."


                               THE END.