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He
walked
into
the
roundhouse
and
ordered
a
large
,
ancient
coal
burning
locomotive
to
be
made
ready
for
the
run
to
Winston
.
The
trainmaster
reached
for
the
telephone
in
the
dispatcher
’
s
office
,
to
summon
an
engine
crew
,
as
ordered
.
But
his
hand
stopped
,
holding
the
receiver
.
It
struck
him
suddenly
that
he
was
summoning
men
to
their
death
,
and
that
of
the
twenty
lives
listed
on
the
sheet
before
him
,
two
would
be
ended
by
his
choice
.
He
felt
a
physical
sensation
of
cold
,
nothing
more
;
he
felt
no
concern
,
only
a
puzzled
,
indifferent
astonishment
.
It
had
never
been
his
job
to
call
men
out
to
die
;
his
job
had
been
to
call
them
out
to
earn
their
living
.
It
was
strange
,
he
thought
;
and
it
was
strange
that
his
hand
had
stopped
;
what
made
it
stop
was
like
something
he
would
have
felt
twenty
years
ago
—
no
,
he
thought
,
strange
,
only
one
month
ago
,
not
longer
.
He
was
forty
-
eight
years
old
.
He
had
no
family
,
no
friends
,
no
ties
to
any
living
being
in
the
world
.
Whatever
capacity
for
devotion
he
had
possessed
,
the
capacity
which
others
scatter
among
many
random
concerns
,
he
had
given
it
whole
to
the
person
of
his
young
brother
—
the
brother
,
his
junior
by
twenty
-
five
years
,
whom
he
had
brought
up
.
He
had
sent
him
through
a
technological
college
,
and
he
had
known
,
as
had
all
the
teachers
,
that
the
boy
had
the
mark
of
genius
on
the
forehead
of
his
grim
,
young
face
.
With
the
same
single
-
tracked
devotion
as
his
brother
’
s
,
the
boy
had
cared
for
nothing
but
his
studies
,
not
for
sports
or
parties
or
girls
,
only
for
the
vision
of
the
things
he
was
going
to
create
as
an
inventor
.
He
had
graduated
from
college
and
had
gone
,
on
a
salary
unusual
for
his
age
,
into
the
research
laboratory
of
a
great
electrical
concern
in
Massachusetts
.
This
was
now
May
28
,
thought
the
trainmaster
.
It
was
on
May
1
that
Directive
10
-
289
had
been
issued
.
It
was
on
the
evening
of
May
1
that
he
had
been
informed
that
his
brother
had
committed
suicide
.
The
trainmaster
had
heard
it
said
that
the
directive
was
necessary
to
save
the
country
.
He
could
not
know
whether
this
was
true
or
not
;
he
had
no
way
of
knowing
what
was
necessary
to
save
a
country
.
But
driven
by
some
feeling
which
he
could
not
express
,
he
had
walked
into
the
office
of
the
editor
of
the
local
newspaper
and
demanded
that
they
publish
the
story
of
his
brother
’
s
death
.
"
People
have
to
know
it
,
"
had
been
all
he
could
give
as
his
reason
.
He
had
been
unable
to
explain
that
the
bruised
connections
of
his
mind
had
formed
the
wordless
conclusion
that
if
this
was
done
by
the
will
of
the
people
,
then
the
people
had
to
know
it
;
he
could
not
believe
that
they
would
do
it
,
if
they
knew
.
The
editor
had
refused
;
he
had
stated
that
it
would
be
bad
for
the
country
’
s
morale
.
The
trainmaster
knew
nothing
about
political
philosophy
;
but
he
knew
that
that
had
been
the
moment
when
he
lost
all
concern
for
the
life
or
death
of
any
human
being
or
of
the
country
.
He
thought
,
holding
the
telephone
receiver
,
that
maybe
he
should
warn
the
men
whom
he
was
about
to
call
.
They
trusted
him
;
it
would
never
occur
to
them
that
he
could
knowingly
send
them
to
their
death
.
But
he
shook
his
head
:
this
was
only
an
old
thought
,
last
year
’
s
thought
,
a
remnant
of
the
time
when
he
had
trusted
them
,
too
.
It
did
not
matter
now
.
His
brain
worked
slowly
,
as
if
he
were
dragging
his
thoughts
through
a
vacuum
where
no
emotion
responded
to
spur
them
on
;
he
thought
that
there
would
be
trouble
if
he
warned
anyone
,
there
would
be
some
sort
of
fight
and
it
was
he
who
had
to
make
some
great
effort
to
start
it
.
He
had
forgotten
what
it
was
that
one
started
this
sort
of
fight
for
.
Truth
?
Justice
?
Brother
-
love
?
He
did
not
want
to
make
an
effort
.
He
was
very
tired
.
If
he
warned
all
the
men
on
his
list
,
he
thought
,
there
would
be
no
one
to
run
that
engine
,
so
he
would
save
two
lives
and
also
three
hundred
lives
aboard
the
Comet
.
