Science fiction -- Periodicals; Science fiction, American -- Periodicals
"Bah!" snorted Keane, "you've had a scare, that's all. Go to bed when
you get home and sleep till nine this evening. At ten a man named Dr.
Nukharin will call for you. He will drive you to a garage, leave the
car, and transfer to another one a few blocks away.
"Out near Marbleton you will find an airplane staked in an open field.
Nukharin is a capable pilot. He will fly back southeast along the
lakeshore to the meeting place. You should arrive about twelve-thirty.
The test is set for one o'clock."
Quest listened in a state of abject rage. Lacking the power to resist
his Control, he could only boil away in Philip's body like a wild
creature hemmed in by bars of steel.
"Bring with you," continued Keane venomously, "the set of papers that
you took from the safe in my office. Hold the other set in readiness to
deliver to Nukharin to-morrow, after he has studied the results of the
test and has notified Paris to release a hundred million dollars in
cash for delivery at your Loop office at 3 p. m."
The murderous greed of the man maddened Quest. He tried to revolt, his
will squirming like a physical thing, threshing the ether like a wounded
shark in the sea. For a moment he felt that he was about to burst the
bonds that his demon of a Control had woven around him. So violently did
he resist that the immured and sporelike will of Philip forged up
fitfully out of the blackness and joined his in the hopeless struggle.
But along the attenuated conduits that still chained Quest to the Master
Will Keane caught the impulse of the mutiny, and his eyes darted flame
as he countered with a will-shock that paralyzed his unruly Agent.
"Listen! you whimpering dog," he snarled. "Think as I tell you--and
nothing more! You are going to apologize to Dr. Nukharin for your
previous unwillingness to sell the Projector. You are going to tell him
that I am at fault--that I held out--but that you found a way to force
my compliance. You understand?"
Quest could find no words. With Philip's head he nodded meekly. Just
then the car stopped and the chauffeur threw open the door.
* * * * *
Dr. Nukharin flew high despite the masses of cumulus cloud which
frequently reduced visibility to zero. He had merely to follow the rim
of the lake to his destination, and an occasional glimpse of the water
was sufficient to hold him on his course.
In the back seat hunched Philip, his body crumbling under the weight of
Quest's despair. For hours the latter had gone on vaguely, hoping
somehow to thwart this horrible transaction that was rushing the world
to its doom, thinking he might grow strong enough to wrench himself free
and so liberate Philip from the dominance of his conscienceless brother.
Even though such a move should leave his own will forever separate from
his body, he was ready and anxious to make the sacrifice.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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