The cyberneticist rubbed his bushy eyebrows with both hands, a habit he had when agitated. "Hartson, as you know, I am not a doctor of medicine. However, I do claim competence as a physiologist, and consequently bodily reactions are familiar to me. I believe you have been drugged." "Drugged?" Rick's heart stopped momentarily. "Yes. I've looked for the mark of a hypodermic needle, but there is none. If I'm correct, the drug was a light one, possibly amytal. Your reflexes are slower than normal, even taking the accident and subsequent shock into account, and your pupils react slowly." Rick came to a sudden decision. He went to the desk and picked up the phone. "What are you doing?" Hartson Brant demanded. "I'm calling Steve Ames. We need help." In a few minutes Rick had the agent on the wire and was giving him the details of the accident over the scrambler system. He concluded, "If Dad was drugged by the houseboaters, as Dr. Winston thinks, that means the enemy has his brain pattern!" Steve Ames asked, "Is Winston there?" "Yes." "Ask him a question for me. Would the brain waves be considered quasi-optical?" Steve meant would the waves be of such high frequency that they would act like light. Rick put the question to Winston. "Tell Steve the answer is a qualified yes." Rick repeated the information. "All right. Then we must assume that the brain scrambler--or whatever you call it--can operate only from short distances, approximately to the horizon. Tell your father he is to get out of town. Have him pack a bag, then deliver him to the New York JANIG office. We'll take it from there. Got it?" Rick had it. "How do I make sure we're not followed?" Steve paused. "That's a tough one. Air travel would be surest. Do you have any landing lights on Spindrift?" "No. Besides, it's a short runway, and only a pilot who knew the island could possibly land at night." "I've got a pilot who knows it, so forget going to New York. Rig lights of some kind. You can put lights on the roof of the lab building, I'm sure. Then put a pair of lights at each side of the runway's end, so he'll know how far he can go. If you have nothing else, soak newspapers in gasoline. He'll buzz the island. That will be your signal to light up." "Is Mike Malone the pilot?" Malone had landed there before. "Yes. He'll take over. Just deliver your father intact." "If we can," Rick said slowly. "Steve, suppose the enemy activates their machine when they hear the plane? Suppose they suspect he's getting away and turn on the mind reader?" "We'll have to chance it. Best thing is to move fast. Get your father in with Mike, and let them clear out. I'll tell Mike to put distance between him and you as fast as he can." "All right, Steve." There seemed to be no other way. Rick turned to his father and Winston, and repeated the conversation.