Maimed and captive, in the depths of an interplanetary meteor-craft, lay the only possible savior of plague-ridden Earth.

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Dr. William Baker was fifty and didn't mind it a bit. Fifty was a tremendously satisfying age. With that exact number of years behind him a man had stature that could be had in no other way. Younger men, who achieve vast things at, say, thirty-five, are always spoken of with their age as a factor. And no matter what the intent of the connection, when a man's accomplishments are linked to the number of years since he was born there is always a sense of apologia about it. But when a man is fifty his age is no longer mentioned. His name stands alone on whatever foundation his achievements have provided. He has stature without apology, if the years have been profitably spent. William Baker considered his years had been very profitably spent. He had achieved the Ph. D. and the D. Sc. degrees in the widely separated fields of electronics and chemistry. He had been responsible for some of the most important radar developments of the World War II period. And now he held a post that was the crowning achievement of those years of study and effort. On this day of his fiftieth birthday he walked briskly along the corridor of the Bureau building. He paused only when he came to the glass door which was lettered in gold: National Bureau of Scientific Development, Dr. William Baker, Director. He was unable to regard that door without a sense of pride. But he was convinced the pride was thoroughly justifiable. He turned the knob and stepped into the office. Then his brisk stride came to a pause. He closed the door slowly and frowned. The room was empty. Neither his receptionist nor his secretary, who should have been visible in the adjoining room, were at their posts. Through the other open door, at his left, he could see that his administrative assistant, Dr. James Pehrson, was not at his desk.

There is no enemy so hard to fight as a dull gray fog. It's not solid enough to beat, too indefinite to kill, and too omnipresent to escape.This collection of literature attempts to compile many classics that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.The "Great Gray Plague" in the title isn't a disease; it refers to psychological traits from prehistoric times that are obsolete and holding humanity back. In this case, it is believing whatever scientific authorities say, even if new evidence is overturning the laws of physics. It's a quick read that will also make you think about scientific history. You can't go wrong with a book that teaches you the meaning of the word "terpsichorean" (relating to dancing), and the use of the much-maligned adverb: "The staff broke into a frighteningly off-key rendition of 'Happy Birthday to You".Mega Man fans will laugh when they learn that the antagonist is called "Dr. Wily". Did Keiji Inafune (sp) read this book before making those games?Excellent novella that postulates that bureaucracy is actually a natural disease. Fifties in nature and scope, this tale is in fact very modern. Recommended

On the surface, James Ellerbee was a crackpot with an impossible invention: a crystal cube you could hold in your hand that allowed instant communication with anyone on Earth. But the inventor came with affidavits, signed and notarized, from three unbiased witnesses: the Fire Chief, the Chief of Police, and the Community Church Pastor of Redrock...