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The climate was perfect, the sky was always blue, andbest of allnobody had to work. What more could anyone want Planet of Dreams By James McKimmey, Jr. Illustrated by Paul Orban It was a small world, a tiny spinning globe, placed in the universe toweather and age by itself until the end of things. But because its airwas good and its earth was fertile, Daniel Loveral had placed a fingerupon a map and said, This is the planet. This is the Dream Planet. That was two years before, back on Earth. And now Loveral with hisselected flock had shot through space, to light like chuckling geeseupon the planet, to feel the effect of their dreams come true. Loveral was sitting in his office, drumming his long fingers against hisdesk while the name, Atkinson, ticked through his brain like the soundof a sewing machine. Would he be the only one, Loveral asked himself, or was he just thefirst In either case, it was up to Loveral, as leader and guiding hand, to stop this thing and stop it quickly. Loveral stood up and put on his jacket, although there was no need forit, other than the formality it gave his figure. He stepped out of his office into a clear bright day, where the air wasclean and fresh in his lungs, at once like frost and fire and sweetperfume. He walked along a winding path, which was bordered byslimnecked flowers and a short hedge whose even clipped lines were keptneat by tireless robot hands. Trees pointed to a blue sky, rocking and fluttering their leaves in asoft breeze, and glinting metallic houses lay peacefully beyond inwooded hollows and upon slight hills. A whole small world was before his eyes, set there upon his direction, maintained by himself with the help of a dozen complex machines whichlay locked and sealed in the Maintenance Room for only his fingers totouch. It was a busy life for Loveral, up at dawn to work until deep night, keeping his flock happy and free from spiritkilling labor. But it was aperfect plan, one which had been tested and turned in his mind foryears. If he had to work hard to keep it running smoothly, that was allright. In fact, he had never been happier. Now, however, there was this business about Atkinson. Loveral wasdisturbed about that.

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He walked on, over the quiet path which would lead to the house whereAtkinson and his wife lived. Loveral smiled, in readiness for any happyface that might appear before him, to greet him, to show with thankfuleyes appreciation for his wonderful world. But that, too, broughtthoughts that were a bit disturbing. Lately there had been few such faces. Most of his flock no longer seemedto care about walking along the cultivated paths, or smiling, ornodding, or touching a leaf here or a flower there. They preferred, itappeared, to remain deep inside their houses, as though they might havebecome tired of the soft perfection of Dream Planet. As though theymight have become weary of quiet woods and sweet birdmusic or a skywhich was always blue. Loveral shook his head as he walked, puzzling out his thoughts. It wasstrange, but nothing to worry about certainly. Just this business about Atkinson. That was his only worry. He came slowly up a hill, the top of which held a low curving house, with a silver roof and wide, sweeping windows. There were yellow andblue and deep red flowers, skirting the sides of the house, and greenivy grew thickly between the glistening windows. The lawn, dotted withsmall leafy trees and round bushes, sloped down from the front of thehouse, looking like a carefully arranged painting. Loveral pressed a button beside a shining door and waited, smilingthrough his pale blue kindly eyes. * * * * * Mrs. Atkinson appeared after several moments and stood blinking at him. She was a thin woman, who seemed to have gotten even thinner, Loveralnoticed. She was working her fingers at the neck of her dress. Shesmiled but her lips wavered. My , Loveral greeted her in his soft voice, showing the goodnessin his eyes. She nodded her recognition, opening her mouth without speaking. May I said Loveral finally, waving his long fingers toward the livingroom. Oh, yes, said the woman. Of course, Mr. Loveral.