It was with obvious delight that Mr. Curtain explained his carefully laid plans. The months he’d spent watching, waiting, preparing. How he’d ordered the theft of the truth serum — the better, he explained, to extract key passwords and information that would help him pass for Mr. Benedict. Under his new identity, Mr. Curtain would regain access to his Whisperer — and with it the ability to manipulate the memories and opinions of others. In short order, those officials who opposed the “new” Mr. Benedict’s ambitions would find themselves unceremoniously yanked from their posts, with no memory of having opposed him at all. And with the help of his former Executives, so well placed in government, Mr. Curtain — known to everyone else as Mr. Benedict — would rise swiftly to a position of unequaled power.
In a way, Mr. Curtain explained in a mocking tone, Mr. Benedict had done much of the work for him. He had but to take advantage when the opportunity arose. “My associates were ready to pounce the moment you strayed beyond your protection. But then I learned that you’d made plans for travel without disclosing the reasons to anyone. This, I thought, was suspicious behavior, and I determined not to apprehend you until I had learned more. And oh! What I learned was well worth the wait, don’t you think? Duskwort! The most precious plant imaginable! And you — of all people — unwittingly prepared to lead me right to it!” Mr. Curtain uttered a clipped screech of laughter that sounded like a hiccup.
“Ledroptha,” said Mr. Benedict, “why are you telling me this now?”
Mr. Curtain ignored him. Speaking directly to the children, he continued, “When I caught up with him here, I knew the duskwort was close by. Benedict and his assistant — I refuse to call her by her ridiculous code name — clearly intended to use this cave as a temporary laboratory. They had everything they needed: a comfortable location sheltered from the wind, a microscope, good lighting. To my great annoyance, however, I discovered that I’d arrived before they had gathered any of the plants for study. I could never have guessed their pace would be so tortoise-like! Here they were, ludicrously unaware of the duskwort’s precise location or even of its appearance — just sitting on their hands and waiting for some mysterious associate to contact them with the necessary information.”
Mr. Curtain gave Mr. Benedict a contemptuous glance. “Luckily,” he went on, “after wasting only a few drops of my truth serum, I realized the most efficient way to find this person would be to appeal to the protective instincts of Benedict’s friends. It was a perfect plan — no, a plan beyond perfection! I would receive the information I sought, then return to Stonetown in triumph! I would have the duskwort and my Whisperer! Can you imagine?”
The children shuddered. They could imagine only too well. Mr. Curtain’s dream was everyone else’s nightmare.
“Of course,” Mr. Curtain said, “I would have to revel in private. In public I would be compelled to grieve for my assistant, that poor nervous woman who would have failed to ‘escape’ with me. I’m sure you can understand why your friend couldn’t return with me — not knowing who I really was. No, I’m afraid she would have met her untimely demise at the hands of that cruel Mr. Curtain. Or else — I haven’t decided yet — she would remain his prisoner, hidden away somewhere in a far corner of the world, where all the government’s top agents would be dispatched to search in vain. This, of course, is why my men are tracking her down even as we speak. I may be undecided about her fate, but I certainly can’t have her running loose.”
“Ledroptha,” said Mr. Benedict gravely. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
Mr. Curtain looked at him askance. “Oh, but I choose for it to be this way. And the arrival of the children has simplified matters. You asked a minute ago why I’m telling you all this now. The answer is that I needed to be cautious. I did not care to give you information you might use against me. You had already proven yourself too untrustworthy for my truth serum to be effective — you always managed to say something technically true but completely unhelpful. But that was when the serum was administered without — how shall I put it? — without additional ingredients. And now those ingredients are in my possession.”
Mr. Curtain took out his shiny silver gloves. The children instinctively recoiled. Grinning at their reaction, he patted the gloves against his knees. “I suspect that with the children here you’ll be more inclined to tell me what I wish to know. What say you, Benedict? Shall I put on my ‘kid gloves’?”
Mr. Benedict looked at his brother with an expression of profound concern. “Ledroptha, you can’t possibly —”
“Do not tell me what I cannot do!” Mr. Curtain shouted. He quickly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. After a long moment he opened his eyes again. “You can say what you please,” he said in a calmer voice, “but if your answers are not helpful to me, the children will pay the price.”
Mr. Curtain shot forward in his wheelchair — narrowly missing the children and Mr. Benedict — and retrieved a small vial and dropper from the nearby table. He spun the chair around and rolled over to Mr. Benedict. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
Mr. Benedict gazed steadily into his brother’s eyes. “How can I know that you won’t hurt the children anyway?”
“A fair question,” said Mr. Curtain, drawing a single drop of liquid from the vial. “Allow me to put your mind at ease.”
Mr. Curtain lifted the dropper, threw back his head, and let the drop fall into his open mouth. Instantly his eyes bulged and he wagged his head, as if he’d swallowed turpentine. “I promise,” he said, speaking quickly in a strained voice, “that if you tell me all I wish to know, I will not hurt these children. I’ll use the Whisperer to remove their memories of this event, and so they will be no threat to my plans and can live the remainder of their lives in safety. I will not offer you anything better, but that much, at least, I promise.”
The two men stared at each other, Mr. Curtain with a look of defiance, Mr. Benedict with an assessing, contemplative expression. At length Mr. Benedict started to speak, only to be interrupted by Constance, who shouted, “He’s lying, Mr. Benedict! That wasn’t the truth serum at all! He switched the vials while you were asleep!”
Mr. Benedict started, then looked visibly upset, as if he’d just received terrible news. In a voice so low only the children heard it he said, “I knew he was lying, dear girl.”
Mr. Curtain was staring at Constance in amazement. “Well, well, well,” he said in an appraising tone. “Now how could you possibly know I switched the vials?”
Constance stared back in dismay. She didn’t know how she’d known about the vials. She only knew that she hadn’t wanted Mr. Benedict to be fooled, and that her revelation seemed to please Mr. Curtain very much.
“I did switch them, but it was long before you arrived,” Mr. Curtain was saying, mostly to himself. His fingers drummed excitedly on the armrests of his wheelchair. “And yet you knew . . . you knew. Oh, my, what a useful little girl you are, Constance. I had no idea!”
“Ledroptha,” Mr. Benedict said quickly, “promise to leave her alone — no need for the serum — just make the promise, and I will tell you everything you want to know.”
Mr. Curtain smiled an oily smile. “I’ll make no such promise, Benedict. I will, however, promise not to harm any of the children for the time being — but only if you answer at once. That is my offer. Shall I put on my gloves, or . . . ?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Mr. Benedict said. “Just make the promise.”