“It could be done,” Ben Yulin put in, ignoring the angry look from his colleague. “But the cost and effort would be enormous!”

Trelig nodded. “Such a cost would be negligible when compared with the benefits. Why, this could wipe out any possibilities of starvation, vagaries of climate, and what not. It could produce a utopia!”

Or it could reduce the few free and individualistic worlds left to happy and obedient slavery, Zinder thought morosely. Aloud, he said, “I think it’s a weapon, too, Councillor. A terrible one in the wrong hands. I believe that is what killed the Markovians a few million years ago. I would feel better if such a power were placed under Council Seal.”

Trelig sighed. “I don’t agree. But, we’ll never know without trying it out. Such a scientific breakthrough can’t just be locked away and abandoned!”

“I think it should be, and all traces of the research erased,” Zinder maintained. “What we have is the power to play god. I don’t think we’re ready for that yet.”

“You can’t uninvent something once invented, regardless of its implications,” Trelig pointed out. “But, I agree, word should be kept under wraps. If even the knowledge of your discovery got out, it would inspire a million other scientists. I think, for now, you should pull the project out of here and move to some place safe, isolated.”

“And where would this safe place be?” Zinder asked skeptically.

Trelig smiled. “I have a place, a planetoid with full life-support, normal gravity maintenance, and the like. I use it as a resort. It would be ideal.”

Zinder felt uneasy, remembering Trelig’s sleazy reputation.

“I don’t think so,” he told the big man. “I think I’d rather put the matter to the full Council next week and let the members decide.”

Trelig acted as if he expected that response. “Sure you won’t reconsider, Doctor? New Pompeii is a wonderful place, much nicer than this sterile horror.”