NBC ANNCR:

In just a moment, "X Minus One." But first--

Some of the funniest situations you've ever witnessed occur every Wednesday night when the devilish imagination of emcee Jack Bailey sets to work on NBC's "Truth or Consequences." You won't believe it until you hear it. So listen in tomorrow. Then, another laugh session is in store later on with the wise and witty Groucho Marx as he and contestants play "You Bet Your Life" -- while, for the melodic note in your Wednesday evening schedule, it's music and fun on "Air Time with Gisele MacKenzie."

And now, stay tuned for "X Minus One" on NBC.

SOUND:

HIGH-PITCHED ELECTRONIC HUM ... JOINED BY ELECTRONIC BEEPING IN AGREEMENT WITH COUNTDOWN

ANNOUNCER:

Countdown for blast-off. X minus five, four, three, two. X minus one. Fire.

SOUND:

A MOMENT'S SILENCE ... THEN ROCKET SHIP BLASTS OFF

MUSIC:

BUILDS VERTIGINOUSLY TO A CLIMAX ... THEN IN BG

ANNOUNCER:

From the far horizons of the unknown come transcribed tales of new dimensions in time and space. These are stories of the future, adventures in which you'll live in a million could-be years on a thousand maybe worlds. The National Broadcasting Company, in cooperation with Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine, presents -- (HEAVY ECHO) X Minus One!

MUSIC:

TO A CLIMAX ... THEN OUT

ANNOUNCER:

Tonight, "Hallucination Orbit" by J. T. McIntosh.

MUSIC:

FOR AN INTRODUCTION ... THEN OUT

SOUND:

SPACESHIP BACKGROUND ... ELECTRONIC BEEPING, ET CETERA

CAPTAIN:

Mr. Chaka?

MATE:

Sir?

CAPTAIN:

Stand by to release pick-up rocket.

MATE:

Yes, sir.

CAPTAIN:

We'll break orbit in eight hours. Have Damage Control pull the rods on the Number Three Pile; check leakage.

MATE:

Yes, sir.

CAPTAIN:

Try and have the locks cleared of all unessential personnel when that pick-up rocket comes back. There's no point in making trouble.

MATE:

I understand, sir.

SOUND:

LOUD BRIEF BUZZ!

MATE:

Pick-up rocket away, sir.

CAPTAIN:

Very well. Take over, Mr. Chaka. I will be in my quarters if I'm wanted.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

CAPTAIN:

Well, now, then, Mr. Danbury, make yourself comfortable.

DANBURY:

Why, thank you, captain.

CAPTAIN:

Do you care for a drink? Scotch in that bulb, bourbon in the other.

DANBURY:

(PLEASANT) No, thank you. I can't get quite used to squirting liquor from a rubber bulb as if I were oiling a bearing.

CAPTAIN:

(AMUSED) Well, you'd have a devil of a time pouring from a bottle in free fall. Well. How are you enjoying your trip?

DANBURY:

It's very interesting. 'Twas very nice of you to give me a lift. You know, it would have been eight months before another ship came along.

CAPTAIN:

Oh, a lot more than that, with the main Pluto beam station out. Probably eight years.

DANBURY:

Really? That long? I thought the whole run to Pluto was under eighteen months.

CAPTAIN:

Yes, it is, when the beam is running. You see, Mr. Danbury, we left Earth twenty-seven days after the beam, broadcast from Pluto Station, broke. We've been spaceborne close to six years.

DANBURY:

I suppose that's why you're in orbit around this planet. Picking up supplies or something, eh?

CAPTAIN:

Oh, no, no. This is a standard pick-up for the Space Beam Service. We sent a rocket down to take off a man who's been the only inhabitant of this planet for a little over two years.

DANBURY:

Well, I expect he'll be glad to see you.

CAPTAIN:

Well, there's no telling.

DANBURY:

(CHUCKLES) I know I would.

CAPTAIN:

After two years of duty, Mr. Danbury, you might not know anything.

DANBURY:

Oh? Psychiatric troubles?

CAPTAIN:

Solitosis. It's from the Latin -- solus, alone.

DANBURY:

Is that much of a problem?

CAPTAIN:

Only in space. Here, look.

SOUND:

WALL SLIDES OPEN

CAPTAIN:

Ah! Look through that port.

DANBURY:

Seems empty.

CAPTAIN:

It is. It's empty of horizon, sky, sunlight, ground. It's empty of time. It's empty of people. You can't live in it too long without something happening.

DANBURY:

I see. But surely people have been alone before space flight?

CAPTAIN:

Ah, yes. But they have been on the same world with other people, and that seems to make a difference. You take a hermit on Earth, he may spend his life trying to escape civilization. But put him on a deserted world, he turns psychotic.

DANBURY:

Is there a cure?

CAPTAIN:

Oh, sure. Put him back with people. At least, about forty people. That seems to be the critical number. See, I have forty-eight in this ship's complement. I could run her with about eighteen. But if I tried to, I'd have psychos on my hands six months after blast-off.

DANBURY:

But then every one of these men on the beam stations, they're all alone, aren't they?

CAPTAIN:

That's right.

DANBURY:

Well, then, they must get it.

CAPTAIN:

They do. It wouldn't pay to leave more than forty men on a space station. And less than forty is too dangerous. Solitosis can be homicidal. So they leave one man. And he gets it, all right. But you can snap him out of it just by taking him back to Earth. That's why I like to have as few people as possible around when the pick-up ship comes back. It can be pretty unpleasant.

DANBURY:

What are they like? How does it affect them?

CAPTAIN:

Well, so far, I've picked up about twenty-eight space station officers. I've seen twenty-eight different sets of symptoms. I wouldn't want the job of getting those guys out of their stations and into that pick-up rocket.

SOUND:

BUZZ! OF TELECOM ... CLICK! OF SWITCH

CAPTAIN:

(INTO COM) Captain here.

MATE:

(FILTER) Pick-up rocket signaling, sir.

CAPTAIN:

(INTO COM) All right, Mr. Chaka, prepare to receive the pick-up. Alert the psychiatric staff and I'll be right there. (TO DANBURY) Uh, would you care to see them bring him in, Mr. Danbury? You're welcome, if you have a strong stomach.

DANBURY:

(WITH A CHUCKLE) I don't think so, thank you.

CAPTAIN:

All right. (INTO COM) Mr. Chaka, as soon as the rocket is secured, make a trajectory for the next station.

MATE:

(FILTER) Yes, sir. That's Pluto Station Three.

CAPTAIN:

(INTO COM) Carry on.

SOUND:

CLICK! OF SWITCH

CAPTAIN:

(THOUGHTFUL, WRY, SLOWLY) Huh. Pluto Station Three. That will be a honey of a job. He's been on that lump of rock all by himself for -- close to six and a half years.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

SOUND:

TICKING! OF CLOCK ... CONTINUES IN BG

ORD:

(DICTATES) Pluto Station Three, Daily Report, Colin Ord, Space Officer.

Everything is in fine shape. Through my port, I can see Mars, Earth, Saturn, Mercury. (SHORT LAUGH, PLAYFUL) Ah, that little devil, he's hiding behind the sun. He's been quite furtive lately.

(SUDDENLY ANNOYED, UP) Why I'm required to record this report every day escapes me -- because it's quite obvious to any empty-headed brass hat at the Central Office that not a word of this has been worth the tape it's been recorded on for the last five and a half years.

(DOWN, SARDONIC) But if it amuses you, gentlemen, to hear me wander-- After all, you are paying for the tape.

Ah! Which gives me a fine thought. I'm going to set the pick-ups through the whole station and leave the tape running. That'll give you a daily report all day; so keep on listening.

Right now, I have the distinct impression that Earth is -- winking at me. A rather suggestive, lewd wink.

UNA:

It helps to see the planets, doesn't it?

ORD:

Hm? Oh. I - I thought you were reading.

UNA:

I was. You know, if you hadn't been able to see the planets, you would have been a straitjacket case long ago.

ORD:

Well, who knows I'm not one now? You don't, anyway.

UNA:

Well, I think that so long as you talk sanely about madness, you can't be so far gone. (BEAT) It's out there somewhere, isn't it? The rescue ship.

ORD:

Somewhere.

UNA:

How long now, Colin? Where could they be now if they started whenever the beam failed?

ORD:

I haven't worked it out since the last time you asked, but they could be very close.

UNA:

If the beam hadn't failed, they would have been here long ago, wouldn't they?

ORD:

Oh, sure. Eleven months with the beam; over six years without it. Well, anyway, that triple-time six years' pay adds up to quite a pile.

UNA:

(CHUCKLES) You'll be set up for life when you get back to Earth, won't you? And at twenty-nine!

ORD:

(LOW) I'll be rotten with money.

UNA:

Oh, well. It's been nice knowing you.

ORD:

That's because of the others before you. I've learned a lot.

UNA:

(MILDLY OFFENDED) Never talk of the others. And, above all, never talk of any others to come.

ORD:

I'm sorry.

UNA:

(SIGHS) Would you like to play chess? It's a long time since we did.

ORD:

I don't think so. Not any more. I'm a little tired of chess.

UNA:

Oh, I know. I know, I understand. (UNHAPPY, FEELING REJECTED) I won't bother you. I'll go to my room, Colin.

ORD:

Well, don't get upset.

UNA:

(UNCONVINCING) I'm not. I understand. (SADLY) You're just tired. (BEAT) Of chess.

SOUND:

STATION DOOR SLIDES SHUT

ORD:

You still listening, gentlemen?

That last few minutes might have been a little confusing. You'd like to know who I was talking to, wouldn't you?

I'm afraid you can't - hear her on the tape.

That's Una. And I'll tell you what she looks like. You might find it interesting.

She's beautiful but rather cool. She always wears a white shirt and sharp-creased green slacks. She's got a good figure but in a calm sort of way. She plays a good game of chess, although I beat her two out of three times.

Of course, you know why you can't hear her on the tape.

But I still know, too.

That's a point in my favor, isn't it?

That brings up an interesting question, gentlemen, because -- I'm tired of Una. I'm beginning to find her a long, cool, slightly unappealing bore.

My problem is how to get rid of her.

I can't just tell her to vanish; she's a little too real for that.

I dreamed up a ship to bring her. I'll have to find another to take her away.

Well, I might as well get to it.

(WEARILY) Oh, no. No, I'm not going to bother about the ship. It's too much mental effort; I'd have to think up everything I saw and, frankly, gentlemen, I'm - I'm too tired.

Maybe she'll take the hint. A lot of them did. Suzy did. And Alice.

Ohhh. Remember Margie? There was a girl. A load of bricks had to fall on her head. Took me four weeks to get rid of her.

No. Let Una figure her own way to get off the station.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

SOUND:

TICKING! OF CLOCK ... FADES OUT BEHIND--

ORD:

Well. She's gone. I thought she might. Her ship's gone, too. Well, all in all, I don't think Una was really very satisfactory. One of these days, I'll start believing in them and I'll be really gone. Well, if I activate the main screens now...

SOUND:

CLICK! OF SWITCH ... PECULIAR HUM! AS MAIN SCREENS ACTIVATE

ORD:

... I'll see a ship coming into land pretty soon. Every once in a while, I have a thought that when the ship really comes, I'll think it's make-believe.

SOUND:

SONAR-LIKE BEEPS ... CONTINUES IN BG

ORD:

Yes. There it is. A small ship curving in for a landing. I suppose I could check on the detectors. I know they register anybody within a hundred thousand miles, but I don't bother checking them any more because someday the moment will come when I check the detectors -- and I'll see - just what I want to see.

Well, the ship's coming in for a landing now. I'll go out to meet it. I'm rather interested to find out what the explanation will be for the girl.

Naturally, it will be a girl.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

ORD:

It's all right. You can take your helmet off. The air's all right in here.

SOUND:

UNLATCHES HELMET

ELSA:

You must be Baker.

ORD:

Oh, good heavens, no. Baker was before me here. You can't be one of his dreams seven years late. I'm Ord, Colin Ord.

ELSA:

Before we go any further, just how does solitosis affect you?

ORD:

(MILDLY SURPRISED) Well, that's new. None of them ever asked that before. (ANSWERS THE QUESTION) It makes me see things that aren't there.

ELSA:

And you know there's nothing there?

ORD:

Mm, sometimes.

ELSA:

Do you know I'm here?

ORD:

I'm making a point of not wondering about it.

ELSA:

Well, one thing you can be sure of. This. Do you see this? This is a gun. I just want you to know I'm not Heaven's little gift to lonely space station officers. Is that clear?

ORD:

Oh, yes. Yes. (INHALES) What's your name?

ELSA:

Elsa Catterline. You want to know why I'm here, of course.

ORD:

Not particularly.

ELSA:

(SURPRISED) What?

ORD:

Well, that's always the weakest part of the story; I don't like to press it. (SLY) Why don't you, uh, take off your space suit?

ELSA:

I'll tell you why just the same. I killed a man. Why and how doesn't matter. I had access to an experimental ship. I thought if I disappeared for about two years, every--

ORD:

Oh, please, don't labor over it. I'm not asking questions.

ELSA:

Why not?

ORD:

Well, when we get around to it, I would be interested in the story you can concoct for being dressed like the cover of a magazine story in rather minimal clothing. It's been years since I thought up anything like that. You must be a throwback.

ELSA:

What are you talking about?

ORD:

(MOCK STERN) You know, you're going to have a tough time with that gun when you get tired of holding it. It's a heavy gun. How long do you think it'll be before I take it from you? After all, you have to sleep. There's no door in the station you can lock that I can't get in.

ELSA:

I know. I just wanted to make sure you weren't violent. I think I can get on with you, Ord.

ORD:

Mm, yes, yes, I see. The question is, my dear, whether you're real or not.

ELSA:

Well, don't I look real?

ORD:

Oh, yes. But that doesn't prove anything. As a matter of fact, the realer you look, the worse off I might be. But then there still is the remote possibility that you might actually have killed someone and decided to hide out on a space station. Shall I tell you something else, Elsa?

ELSA:

What?

ORD:

(WEARY, BITTER) I'm suddenly tired of the whole business. "Breathes there a man with soul so dead--" I'm sure you know the rest of it. (BEAT) I would suddenly like to have enough people around me so that I could be sane. I would like to find women as part of life instead of having them pop up here from the depths of my rather - pornographic subconscious. (BEAT) Ah, but you've shaken me, Elsa. Twenty-four hours ago, I was congratulating myself that solitosis hadn't really gotten me. But now I don't know.

ELSA:

Just don't try anything funny. Or you'll find out whether I'm real. The hard way.

ORD:

(EXHALES) Any way - is the hard way. (A DECISION) First, I'll go out and - have a look at your ship.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

ORD:

(FILTER, QUICKLY, TO HIMSELF) Fourteen pounds per square inch air. Heat. Now. I take a gasoline lighter. There. The flame lights. But, on the other hand, if there was no lighter and I see it, I could also see it burn when there isn't any air. As a matter of fact, how do I know that I can read a meter for air pressure? (UNCERTAIN) And now that I look again quickly, I find I haven't got a lighter in my hand and, as a matter of fact, the pressure meter reads zero. (CERTAIN) There's no air on this ship; as a matter of fact, there isn't any ship. Elsa is no more real than Una! (BEAT, SLOWER) All right, Colin, old boy, sit here and concentrate for about fifteen minutes and you'll be able to -- walk through the walls of this ship.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

ELSA:

Well, what did you find out there?

ORD:

You'd better leave. It was a mistake your coming here. I'm sorry.

ELSA:

(A WARNING) No. Don't come any closer to me.

ORD:

Put down the gun.

ELSA:

Keep back! I'm warning you! Keep back!

SOUND:

TWO GUNSHOTS

ORD:

(BEAT) You see, it's no use. Oh, you're a good shot. You got me right between the eyes; but I couldn't feel a thing. I can't let myself be shot now, can I? (WITH EFFORT) Give that to me! (BEAT) There. (SAVAGE) Now, remember, if you shoot me, nothing happens! But if I shoot you, you die -- do you know that?

ELSA:

(BEAT) Yes, I know that.

ORD:

I'll give you about twenty minutes to get that overstuffed figure back into that space suit and get off my planet! Frankly, I'm getting tired of hallucinations! Tired!

ELSA:

Give me back my gun.

ORD:

No, no, no. I'll keep that. After a while, I'll put in a drawer. It'll stay there until I forget it. Then there won't be any gun any more. (BEAT) From now on, my overblown figment, there will be no Elsas or Suzys or Margies. I am not going to give in to solitosis. Maybe! (SADLY) Maybe I'll bring Una back. At least, she could play chess.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

ORD:

(DICTATES) Pluto Station Three, Daily Report, Colin Ord, Space Officer.

Gentlemen, I have successfully fought off solitosis for two days and I have been alone.

However, I'm afraid I'll lose as I watch my main scope now. I see a ship coming in again.

MUSIC:

SNEAKS IN ... CONTINUES IN BG

ORD:

I wonder what this one will be like. It's a launch from a larger space ship. Maybe a lifeboat.

(BRIEFLY NOSTALGIC) Dorothy came in a lifeboat.

I wonder what this one will be like. I've got to find out when she comes whether she's real. That's the key. As long as I know if she's real. When I don't care any more, that's when it's really got me.

The ship's down now. There she comes out of the airlock. (WHISPERS) I've got to find out whether she's real.

MUSIC:

UP, FOR A BRIDGE ... THEN OUT

MARILYN:

Colin Ord?

ORD:

That's right.

MARILYN:

I'm Dr. Lynn of Four Star Lines. Marilyn Lynn.

ORD:

Ohhh. Very pretty. Are you going to tell me your story now or do I have to wait?

MARILYN:

I'm not going to tell you anything till I've found out a little more about you.

ORD:

Well, you're an improvement on the last one. At least, you're young and beautiful, and you're not fantastic, and you look -- intelligent.

MARILYN:

What do you mean?

ORD:

Don't worry about me. I see things that aren't there. Particularly people.

MARILYN:

(UNDERSTANDS) Ohhhh. So you don't believe I'm here?

ORD:

Would you? If you were me?

MARILYN:

Do you know I'm not here?

ORD:

No. That comes with time. At least, it always has so far.

MARILYN:

You mean, you've always proved to yourself that your visitors were mere fantasies?

ORD:

(BEAT) With a struggle.

MARILYN:

Interesting. Controlled solitosis. I never heard of it before. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ord.

ORD:

No, no. That doesn't make you real. They all say that.

MARILYN:

Why should I want to make you accept me as real?

ORD:

I don't know. But they all do.

MARILYN:

When will you know?

ORD:

Oh, I can't say. Maybe in five minutes, maybe not for hours.

MARILYN:

How do you do it? You don't shoot me to see if I die or anything like that, do you?

ORD:

No. Nothing like that. If I shoot you, you do die, like the witches in history. They'd die if they were -- and they'd die if they weren't.

MARILYN:

Your mind has remained agile enough.

ORD:

Naturally. I never heard of solitosis inhibiting intelligence. Would you like some coffee?

MARILYN:

Is that part of the test? Whether more coffee is actually drunk than you drink yourself?

ORD:

No, no. That doesn't help. It would be very easy for me to make half what I thought I made, to fill a [nonexistent] cup with nothing and pass it back [to a nonexistent girl]. (BEAT, QUIET CHUCKLE) You look afraid.

MARILYN:

(UNEASY) Why should I be?

ORD:

(SUDDENLY NERVOUS) What am I doing? Am I doing something I don't know I'm doing?

MARILYN:

No. Would you like me to wash the cups for you when we're done?

ORD:

That won't prove anything. Next time they were used, I could just imagine they were washed, couldn't I?

MARILYN:

Where are you going?

ORD:

(BEAT) To find out if you're real.

MARILYN:

My ship? Go ahead. (BEAT) Good luck.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

ORD:

(TO HIMSELF) What's she afraid about? Something I said. None of the others were really afraid of me.

Ah, I can't tell yet. Nothing's happened. The meters all read fifteen pounds to the square inch air pressure; but that's no good. I can't tell if I'm reading them at all.

SOUND:

POUNDS FIST ON SHIP'S METAL WALL

ORD:

(TO HIMSELF) Oh. Well, the wall's solid enough; my hand hurts. That doesn't prove anything. Supposing I open my face plate. If there's no ship and no air--

SOUND:

UNLATCHES HELMET

ORD:

(TO HIMSELF, INCREASINGLY DESPERATE) All right, my face plate's open. I'm breathing air. But then again, on the other hand, my face plate may still be closed. Maybe I only think it's open; I can't tell. I can't tell that she isn't real. That means it's finally gotten me. It gets everyone. I don't really know if anything's real -- if I'm real, if this space station is real, the planet, the universe, the galaxy! Maybe all life is in my mind.

(SLOWLY) "I think, therefore I am." Yes, I remember that from that school.

(INCREASINGLY WEAK) Oh, I'm tired.

I've got to get back to the station.

Very tired.

Close my face plate. If I ever opened it.

SOUND:

LATCHES HELMET

ORD:

(TO HIMSELF, GETTING WEAKER) Get back to the station.

Got a headache.

Terrible headache.

I'm very tired.

MUSIC:

BRIDGE

MARILYN:

Are you all right now? Here, drink this.

ORD:

(GROGGY) Mmmmm. What happened?

MARILYN:

You came in the station lock and passed out.

ORD:

How - how long have I been out?

MARILYN:

About twenty-four hours. You're a very sick man, Mr. Ord.

ORD:

Heh. Reality. Very important thing, isn't it? It's the most important thing there is to learn.

MARILYN:

Merely to you. Solitosis naturally affects what matters most to the individual; but we needn't talk about that.

ORD:

But I know now. You're not real. You can't be, even though I feel you are.

MARILYN:

How did you decide that?

ORD:

I couldn't prove you weren't -- not on your ship. I'm too far gone to figure out any test that'll work. But if you are real, then how did you avoid solitosis?

MARILYN:

The only way there is. There are forty-eight men and women in the relief ship that's in orbit around your planet right now. I came down in the pick-up rocket. We have well-above the critical number of people. I keep rational by knowing they're up there in the orbit, and as soon as I'm ready, I'll take you back up there.

ORD:

Well, I suppose I can wait. I don't really care if you're real or not any more.

MARILYN:

(WISTFUL) I know. It'll take a long while before you care.

ORD:

You sound sad. What's the matter?

MARILYN:

It's the way you look at me.

ORD:

What do you mean?

MARILYN:

What do you see when you look at me?

ORD:

Well, you're strong. Sort of quietly beautiful. About my age. You're wearing a tunic and slacks. And you don't have a wedding ring. I noticed that.

MARILYN:

That's what I thought you saw. (BEAT) I'm real, but not your picture of me. I'm a doctor, Mr. Ord. All first contacts with station officers are made by trained psychiatrists. I'm a doctor. And I was a girl once. But that was forty years ago. I'm sixty-six.

ORD:

(BEAT, DISBELIEF) You can't be.

MARILYN:

Oh, yes. It was very nice to be a girl again. I could see myself in your eyes and I almost felt young again. As I grow old in the next few weeks, Mr. Ord, you'll be recovering. That will show you how your case is progressing. When you see me as I really am -- you'll be all right.

ORD:

(BEAT, SLOW, THOUGHTFUL) Assuming you're real, Marilyn, it really must take something to come down alone to see one of us. I think I see you now - as you really are.

MUSIC:

TENDER BRIDGE

SOUND:

SPACESHIP BACKGROUND ... ELECTRONIC BEEPING, ET CETERA

MATE:

Captain?

CAPTAIN:

Yes, Mr. Chaka?

MATE:

Pick-up rocket all secured from Pluto Number Three.

CAPTAIN:

(DROPS FORMALITY) Mm. How is the poor fellow?

MATE:

Good as can be expected. He came on board with Dr. Lynn.

CAPTAIN:

Mm hm.

MATE:

I'm tellin' you, these guys throw me. There he was, holdin' her hand, lookin' in her eyes like he was in love with her. And you know what a dried-up old bat she is.

CAPTAIN:

(QUIETLY) Yes, I know. (GENTLY) All right, Mr. Chaka. Prepare to blast off.

MUSIC:

BUILDS VERTIGINOUSLY TO A FINISH

ANNOUNCER:

You have just heard "X Minus One," presented by the National Broadcasting Company in cooperation with Galaxy Science Fiction Magazine which this month features the Willy Ley column, "Mutant of the Iron Horse," describing monorail railroads of the past and future. Galaxy Magazine, on your newsstand today.

MUSIC:

SNEAKS IN UNDER FOLLOWING--

ANNOUNCER:

Tonight, by transcription, "X Minus One" has brought you "Hallucination Orbit," a story from the pages of Galaxy written by J. T. McIntosh and adapted for radio by Ernest Kinoy. Featured in the cast were William Redfield, John Larkin, Vera Allen, John Moore, Teri Keane, Dick Hamilton and Hope Risman. Your announcer, Fred Collins. "X Minus One" was directed by Daniel Sutter and is an NBC Radio Network production.

MUSIC:

TO A FINISH

NBC ANNCR:

National Radio Week -- "Recollections at Thirty" salutes radio tonight on NBC.