'What makes you think I want to be your guinea pig? Do you really expect me to participate voluntarily in your experiments?'
'As a matter of fact, I do,' said Remer confidently. 'Anything else would be unwise.' He patted Katherina on the shoulder, and she flinched at his touch. 'As I said, we have a use for her.'
Jon clenched his teeth. 'And if I agree to your experiments, will you let her go?'
'Naturally,' replied Remer. 'That's the deal.'
'It's no good,' said Jon, squeezing his eyes shut and obviously in pain. 'I'm incapable of reading anything right now. You can thank your lapdog for that.'
Remer leaned forward to give Jon an intent look.
'He's bluffing,' exclaimed Pau. 'I didn't hit him that hard.'
Remer shot Pau an annoyed glance and leaned back in his chair.
Jon opened his eyes and stared straight at Remer. 'If you let Katherina go, I promise to stay here until I'm able to do your test,' he offered.
'I'm sure you'll do your best,' said Remer, picking up the gun from the table and showing it to Jon.
Katherina shook her head vigorously but she could see the dismay in Jon's face. The sight of that shabby little object underscored that this was a filthy hostage situation and not a negotiation.
'Okay,' said Jon. 'What do you want me to do?'
'What you're so good at doing,' replied Remer. 'Reading stories.' He nodded to Pau, who left the room.
'First let her go,' Jon demanded.
Remer laughed. 'Now you're being naive, Campelli. The girl stays until we get what we need.'
The door to the cell was pushed open, and Pau stepped inside with a book in one hand and a knife in the other.
'Bastard,' snarled Jon.
Pau laughed as he stepped closer, making sure that Jon saw the knife by holding it up with two fingers.
'Watch out, Jon,' he warned. 'You wouldn't want to get hurt again.' He fixed his gaze on a spot above Jon's left eyebrow. 'Ouch, that looks ugly. Does it hurt?' Pau smiled broadly.
Jon yanked at his arms but they were firmly strapped to the armrests of his chair. He sank back, fixing hostile eyes on Pau.
'So are you going to turn the pages for me?'
'Oh, no,' said Pau. 'I'll be out of here long before that.' He stuck the book in Jon's right hand.
Jon looked down at the cover.
'Frankenstein?' he exclaimed with surprise.
From her position near the table, Katherina could see that the book was a paperback edition, as worn as a copy someone had taken on summer holiday. She also noticed that she couldn't pick up anything from Jon's reading of the cover. As they had earlier discussed, the cell room must be shielded in some way.
With one hand Pau gripped Jon's left forearm, pressing it down against the armrest. He used his other hand to cut off the plastic strips holding Jon's arm. After cutting through the bands he swiftly stepped away, out of Jon's reach.
Jon shook his free arm. He grabbed the plastic strips on his other arm but couldn't pull them off.
Pau laughed. 'Forget it, Jon. You can't do it.' He turned round and went out of the cell, followed by Jon's scowling gaze.
'Go ahead and start,' said Remer.
Jon shifted his glance to the window and Katherina gave him a brief nod. Pau came back into the office and stood behind the others at the table.
'Do you have any favourite passages?' asked Jon scornfully.
Remer shook his head. 'It doesn't matter where you begin.' He pressed a couple of keys on the keyboard, and the image on the screen changed to show a number of oscillating curves that slowly rolled from right to left. There was no appreciable fluctuation.
Jon shifted his hold on the book so that he was gripping the spine with his bound right hand and was able to turn the pages with his left. He opened the book to the middle and began to read.
For Katherina it was a strange feeling to hear Jon reading aloud. Up until now she had always been with him when he read so that she could simultaneously receive, but now it was only his own voice she heard, while the book itself remained silent. It was like listening to audio books, which were also devoid of any of the energy with which a reader or a book itself might charge the text. Yet Jon was an excellent reader, and if the circumstances had been different, she would have enjoyed the story. Katherina tried with all her might to stretch the tape round her ankles even more. She felt a little jerk as the tape gave way, and she cast a frightened glance at the others. But they were all staring intently at the monitor on the table and hadn't noticed a thing.
The oscillations on the screen had begun to move. A green line at the very top of the monitor displayed sine-wave oscillations, an image of what Katherina surmised was the fluctuating pulse made by a transmitter's powers. Underneath was a red trace that rose steeply as Jon worked his way through the text.
'Five point one within three minutes,' said Remer, impressed.
Pau sniggered.
The red trace flattened out and stabilized at a level above the halfway mark on the screen.
'Seven,' declared Remer. 'Is he holding back?'
'Well, there aren't any fireworks yet,' said Pau.
Remer leaned towards the microphone, but just as he was about to say something the green sine wave changed shape. The fluctuations increased in tempo, like a metronome shifting gear. At the same time the red line made an almost vertical leap and was now close to the top of the scale.
'Ten,' exclaimed Remer in astonishment.
Behind the glass, Jon seemed apparently unaffected. Only the beads of sweat that were slowly trickling down his forehead revealed the effort he was making.
The fluorescent lights on the ceiling above him flickered erratically a couple of times until one of them suddenly went out, while the two others shone even brighter. Even though the cell room was bathed in light, the glare seemed to be diminishing around Jon. Gradually a sphere formed around him, creating a darker space than in the rest of the room, and sparks and tiny flashes seemed to be racing over the surface of the sphere. Soon they could no longer see him because of the darkness and the increasing energy discharges.
'Shit,' cried Pau. 'He's gone off the scale.'
Katherina cast a glance at the computer screen. The sine wave was still fluctuating regularly but at a faster frequency than before. The red line had disappeared. She twisted her feet free from the tape and set them on the floor.
The now pitch-black sphere seemed to be drawing in the light behind the windowpane, as if it were a black hole. Lightning and sparks slid over the surface in fiery patterns and several leaped from the sphere into the room, where they landed on the objects and wiring surrounding Jon. The sparks danced in the air until all the light seemed to have been sucked inside the sphere with one great inhalation.
Katherina kicked at the floor, sending herself and the chair flying towards the other end of the room, away from the window. As she moved, she made sure to turn her back and lean forwards. Behind her she heard shouting and a great commotion.
Then came the explosion.
The force flung her sideways against the wall and the breath was knocked right out of her. A fierce heat followed and her lungs burned as she gasped for air. After the roar of the explosion came the sound of glass shattering and falling to the floor, and a hissing sound from sparks flying. She heard a whimpering from the other end of the room but all the lights had gone out, and the only remaining light was from the flames that had ignited the papers on the table and floor.
Katherina felt a pain in her arms, on the skin that was unprotected from the heat. The tape round her wrists had started to melt and she could easily slip out of it. She ripped the tape off her mouth and fumbled her way to the door, which she tore open. Before leaving the room, she took one last look at the desk where Remer and Pau had been. She glimpsed people lying on the floor, but she wasn't able to see whether they were still alive.
Out in the corridor a single fluorescent light was flickering, and the strobe effect turned the hall into a nightmarish scene. The metal door to the cell room was bowed outward; the peephole had been blown away and smoke was pouring out of it, as if from a chimney. On the floor in front of the door lay Kortmann's chauffeur. One of his eyes was a deep, gaping crater, and blood was gushing from the wound and down his face into a growing pool on the floor.