Science fiction; Spy stories; Telepathy -- Fiction; United States. Federal Bureau of Investigation -- Fiction
"I think it would be nice for her to get away from me--I mean from
here," the psychiatrist said. "Where did you say you were taking her?"
he asked Malone.
"Yucca Flats," Malone said.
"Ah." The news seemed to please the psychiatrist. "That's a long
distance from here, isn't it? It's quite a few hundred miles away.
Perhaps even a few thousand miles away. I feel sure that will be the
best thing for me ... I mean, of course, for Miss Thompson. I shall
recommend that the court so order."
"Doctor--" But even Barbara saw, Malone could tell, that it was no good
arguing with Dr. Harman. She tried a last attack. "Doctor, who's going
to take care of her?"
A light the size and shape of North America burst in Malone's mind. He
almost chortled. But he managed to keep his voice under control. "What
she needs," he said, "is a trained psychiatric nurse."
Barbara Wilson gave him a look that had carloads of U{235} stacked away
in it, but Malone barely minded. She'd get over it, he told himself.
"Now, wasn't that sweet of you to think of that," the little old lady
said. Malone looked at her and was rewarded with another wink.
"I'm certainly glad you thought of Barbara," the little old lady went
on. "You will go with me won't you, dear? I'll make you a duchess.
Wouldn't you like to be a duchess, dear?"
Barbara looked from Malone to the little old lady, and then she looked
at Dr. Harman. Apparently what she saw failed to make her happy.
"We'll take good care of her, Barbara," Malone said.
She didn't even bother to give him an answer. After a second Boyd said:
"Well, I guess that settles it. If you'll let me use your phone, Dr.
Harman, I'll call Judge Dunning."
"Go right ahead," Dr. Harman said. "Go right ahead."
The little old lady smiled softly without looking at anybody at all.
"Won't it be wonderful?" she whispered. "At last I've been recognized.
My country is about to pay me for my services. My loyal subjects--" She
stopped and wiped what Malone thought was a tear from one
cornflower-blue eye.
"Now, now, Miss Thompson," Barbara said.
"I'm not sad," the little old lady said, smiling up at her. "I'm just so
very happy. I am about to get my reward, my well-deserved reward at
last, from all of my loyal subjects. You'll see." She paused and Malone
felt a faint stirring of stark, chill fear.
"Won't it be wonderful?" said the little old lady.
IV
"You're _where_?" Andrew J. Burris said.
Malone looked at the surprised face on the screen and wished he hadn't
called. He had to report in, of course--but, if he'd had any sense, he'd
have ordered Boyd to do the job for him.
Oh, well, it was too late for that now. "I'm in Las Vegas," he said. "I
tried to get you last night, but I couldn't, so I--"
"Las Vegas," Burris said. "Well, well. Las Vegas." His face darkened and
his voice became very loud. "Why aren't you in Yucca Flats?" he
screamed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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