There was considerable difficulty from another segment of society-the VERPERTS. Many of those emotionally distorted people, whose compulsions directed their attentions only to youngsters or other perverted acts, had to be dealt with and controlled. The MORNALS had to be convinced that these unfortunate persons were no more a part of the HEXOSOMUALS, per se, than they were of the MORNALS and that their activity was justly abhorrent to society, both the Old and the New.

Thus, in retrospect, the integration of HEXOSOMU ALS into a friendly and productive coexistence with MORNALS seemed easy, but in reality it had been anything but that. The resulting sense of security for the HEXOSOMU ALS in society became enormously increased and was worth all the superhuman efforts made to achieve it.

These were some of the thoughts that crowded into Dick Lovett's mind as he scanned the screen in front of him. So much-everything in fact-depended on the outcome of the strategy he and his staff had evolved. This was the big test.

He had read and reread the history of the last half of the 1900's leading into a new century. It seemed like some tragic nightmare that the homosexuals, as they were then archaically termed, were jailed and persecuted, kept from participation in government and civil affairs on the flimsy pretext of being considered "security risks.'

As the light caught the bars on Dick's shoulder, bespeaking his powers of command, he smiled. Yes, the HEXOSOMU ALS had come a long way since those dark days or the 1950's. Now he must stop this wool-gathering and give his undivided attention to matters in hand.

For years the conflict with the SURSIANS had seemed ready to break wide open

and each side had held back mindful of the awful consequences involved. This teetering on the edge of doom couldn't go on forever. Every new mental hospital kept being filled the same day it opened its doors. MORNALS and HEXOSOMU ALS alike were at the breaking point.

Then it was that Lovett, as commander of the Air Squadrons, had evolved the strategy now about to unfold before his eyes. His own Squadron, the most popular group in the Air Command, which was composed entirely of HEXOSOMUALS, had volunteered to spark this mission. They were to act as decoy and lure the reluctant SURSIANS through an atomic curtain, the existence of which, it was hoped, would be completely unknown to the enemy. If the plan succeeded, the victim's airships would be disintegrated.

It seemed feasible and was certainly decisive. If any sanity was to be preserved quick decision was definitely imperative. A status quo, with both sides armed to the teeth sitting in quiet desperation waiting for the other to make a move, couldn't be maintained indefinitely.

The first indication of action was beginning to show up on the screen. Dick's mouth became tense, his lips a thin line, as he watched. The lead plane, piloted by Gaylan Carr, ace flyer of this special HEXOSOMUAL Corps, was of more than tactical concern to Dick. Gay was not only his Aide-he was his reason for living. Every dream, every hope of their lives together, flew in that plane.

It was dawn-and this was it! The first grey streaks of light filled the sky. Now all his gallant men should be coming into view-and if the plan worked, the SURSIANS in pursuit.

Dick felt hot and cold by turns as he adjusted the controls of the screen. Why didn't they come? Time was running out.

Suddenly they were there! Gay's ship and the others and-Dick caught his breath-

4.2.

11