SLAVE OF ETERNITY
By ROGER DEE
An eye for an eye, a tooth for a
tooth ... these were the familiar
laws of man—Far more fiendish was
Heric's punishment—eternal
life for the death he'd taken!
[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
Super Science Stories May 1950.
Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
"You have no choice," the patrolman said. "The Council sends for you."
He moved across the veranda of Heric's cottage, bulking dark against the sky-glow of Nyark the first city. On the slope of lawn below stood his copter, its beetle-black shell glistening faintly in the starshine.
Heric stood rigid with alarm in his doorway, still holding the book he had been reading. The night-wind ruffling his hair and the homely sounds from the kitchen where Marta prepared their evening meal made his danger doubly fantastic.
"They've found out somehow about my dreams," Heric said. "They'll put me through the adjuster and I'll come out of it—someone else. I won't go!"
He was a mild man, overseer of the cereal grain fields outside Nyark the first city, holding the confidence of his superiors and the respect of his workers. He and Marta had been happy in the quiet eddy of their isolation, until the dreams came.