There was a knock at the door.

Julius opened it.

"Yes," he said.

"I'll take that," the man said.

"What. . . I mean, excuse me . . . what?"

"That. . .the pen."

The big man reached for it.

Julius yielded.

The big man extracted a baggie from his jacket pocket. On the baggie was a white stick­ on label. The man placed Julius' pen against the white label as though to write with it, paused thought. . . . slipped the pen into the baggie.

"Got another?" the big man said.

"Another what?"

"Pen," he said. "One you haven't used to write a short story with?"

"I . . . I don't know. . . why?"

"I need one that isn't evidence."

"Evidence?" Julius' voice showed annoyance. . . perplexity.

"Evidence. . . yes, evidence. . . secret New Law Number 42."

"What law?" Julius asked beginning to feel anxious.

"New Law 42," the big man said.

"What's that. .. what are you taking about. . . what law?"

"Number 42."

"What have I done?"

"I can't say."

"Do you know? I mean. . . I don't violate any laws. What laws? I write fiction."

"Careful," the big man said.

"I haven't done anything."

"Violated 42. That's something."

"Forty-two. What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about forty-two. You don't need to know what it says. That's secret. Now where's that pen I asked for?"

"I'll look for one. Just a moment."

Julius handed the man a pen.

"You haven't used this one to write fiction?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The big man stared at Julius. With the pen he wrote on the label of the baggie. Pen / Julius Rosen / Nov. 19,02.

"Thank you," said the big man handing the pen back to Julius. "Come with me."

There was a knock on the door.

"Sleep well?" The big man asked.

"What do you think?" Julius said.

"Time for your trial," the big man said.

"My trial?"

"Yes. . . right to speedy trial. . . guaranteed in the D.S. Constitution."

It had been four days since Julius' arrest.

"Ready?"

"Yes. . . I mean no."

"Come along," the big man said.

There was a knock on the door

"Defendant is ready," the big man said.

There were three of them. They wore black robes. The one in the middle looked at Julius, then spoke: "You admit what you write isn't true?"

"I write fiction," Julius said.

"No further questions," said the man in the middle with the black robe.

There was a knock at the door.

The big man entered the room.

"Take him" said the men in robes.

Julius turned to the big man. "Where?" he said.

The big man bent down to whisper in Julius' ear: "Secret," he said, "Section I4B, New Penal Code."

Chapter Il There was a knock on the door.
Are you the editor of. . . "

Chapter III There was a knock on the door.
The big man asked: "Are you the editor of. . . "

Chapter IV There was a knock on the door.

Chapters V through CD There was a knock .on the door.

Chapter CDI (Postscript) A "Knock on the Door" was mailed to four hundred publications in the United States, Canada, and Europe days before the state ordered executions of writers Julius Rosen, David A. Goldstein, and several other unnamed individuals. The story was never published. Never.

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