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“They look just like red lines,” I said. Then I remembered waking up in the cell and, for some reason believing that my hands had been cut off. I don’t know why. They were just red lines.
“A false memory?” I asked.
“Yes, and an outstandingly repulsive one. I’ll tell you about it at the next session. But right now you need rest.”
“A fine idea, after I get something to eat…”
The door flew open and Taze ran in and, as she passed, I had a quick glimpse of the horrified expression on her face. Sudden fear hit me in the stomach and I sat, watching her, saying nothing while she turned on the TV. The Cliaandians had a propaganda station operating now, though no one bothered to watch it.
The screen lit up and I found myself looking at Kraj. He almost smiled as he spoke.
“It’s a tape, it keeps repeating,” Taze said.
“.. . that we want him to know. Someone out there must know the man known as James diGriz. Contact him. Tell him to listen to this broadcast. This message is for you, diGriz. We want you back here. I have Angelina here. She is unharmed—as yet—and will remain that way until dawn. I suggest you contact me and see me.
“Welcome home, Jim.”
Chapter 18
I had a number of moments of numb shock after this, during which period I wished to be alone. Taze was understanding enough to leave when I pointed at the exit, but the doctor tried to start a conversation which I terminated by clutching his neck and the seat of his trousers and heaving through the door which she obligingly held open. Then I kicked in the TV set, an act of wanton destruction that helped a bit, before I poured a stiff cogitating drink. With this in hand I droned into the chair, looked out unseeingly at the star spread sky, and worked out a plan. This was not going to be simple—and dawn was not that far away.
The thought that kept nibbling at the edge of my awareness was finally faced. I was going to have to surrender and get a collar back on—there was no way of avoiding that. My memories of what that was like were not very nice, in fact my brain sort of twitched a bit inside the bone case at the thought. There had been entirely too much traffic through my gray matter of late and I was not looking forward to any more. Yet it was unavoidable. The collar and torture box had to be part of any plan, and they had to be neutralized. Not a very easy thing to accomplish. I mumbled over all the possibilities, and when the attack plan was blocked out I sent for Taze and told her what I was going to do.
“You can’t,” she said, and I swear those large lovely eyes were filled with tears, “turn yourself over to those fiends. To save a woman. If only the men on this planet were like you. Impossible to believe…”
I resisted the impulse to enjoy a little warm female solace and turned to snapping open some of the weapon containers. At the sight of the grenades Miss Taze retreated and Sergeant Taze looked on with interest.
“This will be a two part operation,” I told her. “I’ll take care of the first part myself, which will be the penetration of the building and freeing Angelina. I hope to grab a gray man as well, but if that slows me down we’ll save that part of the job for another time. The second part of the operation will be getting out of the Octagon, and for that I am going to need your help. I’ll need plans of the building, I want to talk to someone who knows his way around it well, someone on the custodial staff if possible, so I can find an area of vulnerability. Can you do this now?”
“At once,” she called back over her shoulder as she left. A reliable girl our Taze. I dug into the equipment containers.
Dawn was only two hours away before we were ready to move. I had completed my part of the operation, but setting up the escape afterwards wasn’t that simple. The Octagon was very much like a fortress in the eyes of the small forces we could muster quickly. And we were hampered by our lack of any aircraft or heavy equipment. There seemed no way out by air or on the ground. It was one of the maintenance staff, finally located and dragged in shivering, who found the exit and pointed it out with a trembling finger on the blueprints.
“Cable tu
“It’s sure to be bugged,” I said. “But if we plan this right it won’t matter. Take notes, ladies, because I don’t want to repeat myself. This is how the operation is going to work.”
By the time everything had been taken care of it was less than twenty minutes to dawn and I was in a cold sweat. The first units were moving into position when I put the viewphone call in to Kraj. We were co
“I want to see Angelina instantly, and talk to her. I have to be absolutely sure she has not been ba
He didn’t argue, he had been expecting this. She came into focus and I saw that hated collar with its cable leading up out of the picture.
“Are you all right?”
“As fine as I could possibly be while in the same room with this creature,” she said calmly.
“They’ve done nothing to you?”
“Nothing as yet, other than to clap this collar around my neck and hook the thing up to the ceiling so I wouldn’t run away. But you can just imagine the threats this repulsive man has made. I don’t think I could live for a moment with a mind like his…”
She stiffened then and her eyes rolled up out of sight although her lids didn’t close. Kraj had given her a shot of the nerve torture. I knew at that moment that he would never live if I could get my hands on him. His face reappeared on the screen and it took an effort I did not think myself capable of to stare at him calmly and say nothing.
“You’ll come to me now, diGriz, and surrender. You only have a few minutes left. You know what will happen to your wife if you don’t. If you surrender she will be released at once.”
“What proof do I have that you will keep your word?”
“None whatsoever. But you don’t have a choice, do you?”
“I’ll be there,” I said as calmly as I could manage and turned the phone off—but not before I heard Angelina’s shouted no in the background.
“Are those clothes dry yet?” I asked, tearing off my shirt and kicking out of my boots at the same time.
“Just about,” Taze said. She and another girl were holding hot air blowers to a Cliaand uniform that I thought was just right for this occasion. It had been soaked in a chemical bath and was now being force dried.
“Almost is good enough, we can’t wait any longer.”
There were some damp patches, but nothing that mattered. We left, and the powerboat was waiting at the hotel dock below, motor rumbling. So far so good. And the car was there on shore with Dr. Mutfak in the back, black bag on his knees, muttering to himself.
“I don’t like it,” he said. “It is really a violation of my medical code of ethics.”
“War is a violation of any code of ethics or morality, a monstrosity against which any weapons must be used. Do what you have been asked.”
“I’ll do it, that goes without saying, but a man is allowed to comment upon the ethics involved.”
“Comment. But fill the needle at the same time.”
We parked in a side street, in the darkness, with the Octagon just around the corner.
“Catalyst,” I said, “and don’t spill any. Under my arms where the dampness won’t be noticed.”
I raised both arms and felt the warmth of the liquid from the insulated container, then quickly lowered my arms to trap the wet fabric between my upper arms and my sides. Then I climbed out of the car and put my hand back in through the window, The needle bit into my flesh and that was that. As I started around the corner I heard the car pull away.