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“Additional brain matter. I know nothing of its nature. Thorson has come to discount its possibilities.”
Gosseyn nodded. He was inclined to agree with Thorson. From the begi
“Whose roboplane?” Hardie repeated.
“It implied that it represented the Machine.”
“Implied?”
“My question,” said Gosseyn.
Hardie scowled. “You’re not answering your questions completely. Didn’t it give you any evidence?”
“It knew several things that the Machine knows, but it urged me to surrender. I regard that as suspicious.”
Hardie was thoughtful. “I see your point. And I can’t clear that up for you. Crang dominates Thorson these days, and I am in the dark on many things. I’m afraid”—he smiled ruefully—“I’m being relegated.”
So that was why he was here, offering facts on an equal exchange basis. Gosseyn had a sudden vivid picture of these Earthmen begi
“Why did it deny you?”
“Because it saw in me a potential dictator, so it said. The damned thing was set to weed out people like me at a time when there was still legitimate fear of such an eventuality.”
“So you proceeded to prove that it was right?”
“The opportunity came, and I took it. I’d do the same thing again, under the same circumstances. There’ll be a place for me in the galactic hierarchy. Thorson is just playing safe now, in this crisis.”
The grim expression faded from his face. He smiled. “We’re getting away from our subject and—”
There was an interruption. The door opened, and a man in uniform entered hastily and shut the door behind him.
“Sir,” he said to Hardie, “Mr. Thorson is climbing the stairs. I just received the signal.”
President Hardie stood up. He looked a
He and the guard went out the door through which Patricia had disappeared fifteen minutes earlier. They were gone only a few seconds when there was a knock on the main corridor door. Then the door was pushed open, and Thorson came in.
XIII
The big man paused on the threshold, and he was as Gosseyn remembered him, heavy-faced, hawk-nosed and strong. From the begi
“Not dressed yet!” he said sharply.
His gaze darted over the room. His eyes were suspicious. And in that mood, Gosseyn saw the man suddenly in another light. From the stars he had come into a strange sun system. Here on Earth, surrounded by people he did not know, acting under a directive from a remote authority, he was trying to carry out his instructions. The strain was transparently terrific. At no time could he be certain of the loyalty of the people with whom he had to co-operate.
He sniffed the air now. “Interesting perfume you use,” he commented.
“I hadn’t noticed,” said Gosseyn. His attention having been called to it, he detected a faint scent. He wondered if it belonged to Patricia. She’d have to watch out for little things like that. He stared at the big man stonily. “What do you want?”
Thorson made no effort to come further into the room, nor did he shut the door. He studied Gosseyn thoughtfully.
“I just wanted to have a look at you,” he said. “Just look at you.” He shrugged finally. “Well, that’s that.”
He turned and went out. The door closed behind him. Gosseyn blinked. He had been tensing for a verbal clash and he felt let down. He continued his dressing, puzzled by the man’s action. He forgot it as he saw by the bedroom clock that it was almost time for Crang to come back. A moment later he heard the outer door open.
“Be right with you,” he called.
There was no answer and no sound. A shadow darkened the door. Gosseyn looked up with a start. John Prescott came into the bedroom.
“I’ve only got a minute,” he said.
In spite of his surprise, Gosseyn sighed. The uniform haste of his visitors was becoming tiresome. But he said nothing, simply climbed to his feet and looked at the man questioningly.
“You’ll be wondering about me,” said Prescott.
Gosseyn nodded, but his mind was almost blank. He listened silently to the rapid explanation that followed. It was all there. Galactic agent. Secret supporter of null-A. “Naturally,” said Prescott, “I wasn’t going to tell you that unless I had to. I recognized you from photographs when you were attacking me that afternoon, and, frankly, I reported your presence on Venus, taking it for granted that you would be able to get away. I was startled when you turned up at Crang’s tree house.”
He paused for breath and Gosseyn had time to feel disappointment. His one advantage over the group, that he knew about Prescott, was gone. It seemed silly in retrospect that he had ever counted on it to help him, but he had. The only question that remained was, what was the purpose of a confession at this hour?
“It’s Amelia,” Prescott said anxiously. “She’s i
He stopped. With fingers that trembled ever so slightly, he drew a little metal box from his pocket, opened it, and, walking over, held the box out to Gosseyn. Gosseyn stared down curiously at the twelve white pills that were in it.
“Take one,” said Prescott.
Gosseyn had a suspicion of what was coming, but he reached dutifully into the box and lifted out one of the pills.
“Swallow it!”
Gosseyn shook his head. He was a
“It’s for your own protection. I swear it. An antidote.”
“I haven’t taken any poison,” said Gosseyn patiently.
Prescott closed the box in his hand with a snap. He slipped it into one pocket, backed away, and simultaneously drew a blaster with his other hand. “Gosseyn,” he said quietly, “I’m a desperate man. You swallow that pill or I’ll burn you.”
The danger was unreal. Gosseyn looked down at the pill, then at Prescott. He said mildly, “I noticed a lie detector in the next room. That would settle this very quickly.”
It did. Prescott said to the lie detector, “This pill is an antidote, a protection for Gosseyn in case I take certain action. Will you verify that one point?”
The answer was prompt. “That’s right,” said the instrument.
Gosseyn swallowed the pill, stood for a moment waiting for effects. When none occurred, he said, “I hope everything will be all right with your wife.”
“Thanks,” was all Prescott said. He departed hastily by the door that led to the main corridor. Gosseyn finished dressing and then sat down to wait for Crang. He was more disturbed than he cared to admit. The people who had come to see him had been intent each in his own purpose. But one thing they had in common—an earnest belief that a crisis was imminent.
Venus was to be attacked—by whom was not clear. A great galactic military power? It was strangely easy to picture, because this was the way it would be. This was the way that a race bound to its own sun and planets would be subjugated. Mysterious agents, meaningless actions, infiltration, and finally an irresistible attack from nowhere. The various references to a league of galactic powers opposed to the assault seemed vague and insubstantial beside the fact of the presence of Thorson and the steps that had already been taken. Murder. Betrayal. Seizure of power on Earth.