There was a brief scuffle which ended with Iris and myself, considerably disheveled, facing two guns. With an apology, Stokharin pushed us through the door. In a small sunroom we found Cave sitting before a television screen, watching the installation of a new Resident in Boston. He looked up with surprise at our entrance. “I thought I said....” he began but Iris interrupted him. “They want to kill you, John.” He got to his feet quickly, his face pale and his eyes glaring. Even Paul was shaken by that glance. “You read my last statement?” Cave spoke sharply, without apparent fear. “That’s why we’ve come,” said Paul; he and Stokharin moved, as though by previous accord, to opposite ends of the little room, leaving the three of us together, vulnerable at its center. “You must do it here.” Paul signaled Stokharin who, after some fumbling, produced a small metal box which he tossed to Cave. “Some of the new pills,” he said nervously. “Very nice. We use peppermint in the outer layer and....” “Take it, John.” “I’ll get some water,” said Stokharin; but Paul waved to him to keep his place. Cave smiled whitely. “I will not take it. Now both of you get out of here before I call the guards.” “No more guards,” said Paul. “We’ve seen to that. Now, please, don’t make it any more difficult than it is. Take the pill.” “If you read my statement you know that....” “You intend to take a pleasant trip around the world incognito with Iris. Yes, I know. As your friend, I wish you could do it. But, for one thing, sooner or later you’d be recognized and, for another, we must have proof ... we must have a body.” “Iris will bring the body back,” said Cave. He was still quite calm. “I choose to do it this way and there’s nothing more to be said. You’ll have the Establishment all to yourself and I will be a most satisfactory figure upon which to build a world religion.” It was the only time in my experience with Cave that I ever heard him strike the ironic note. “Leave us alone, Paul. You have what you want. Now let us go.” Iris begged but Paul had no eyes for anyone but Cave. “Take it, John,” he repeated softly. “Take Cavesway.” “Not for you.” Cave hurled the metal box at Paul’s head and Stokharin fired. There was one almost bland moment when we all stood, politely, in a circle and watched Cave, a look of wonder on his face, touch his shoulder where the blood had begun to flow through a hole in the jacket.