The others in the party were men. They wore shorts, like the Old Man and myself. They were loaded with recording and stereo equipment as well as other apparatus.
"Ready?" inquired the lab chief.
"Get going," answered the Old Man.
Mary walked straight to the metal chair and sat down in it. Two of the technicians knelt at her feet and started busying themselves with the clamps. Mary reached behind her, unfastened her halter and let it fall, leaving her back bare.
I looked at this in a frozen daze, as if caught in a nightmare. Then I had grabbed the Old Man by the shoulders and had literally thrown him aside and I was standing by the chair, kicking the technicians out of the way. "Mary!" I screamed, "get up out of there!"
Now the Old Man had his gun on me and was motioning me back with it. "Away from her," he ordered. "You three-grab him and tie him up."
I looked at the gun, then I looked down at Mary. She said nothing and did not move; in fact her feet were already bound. She simply looked at me with compassionate eyes. "Get up from there, Mary," I said dully, "I want to sit down."
They removed the chair Mary had sat in and brought in another, larger one. I could not have used hers; both of them were tailored to size. When they finished clamping me in place I might as well have been cast into concrete. Once secured, my back began to itch unbearably, although nothing, as yet, had touched it.
Mary was no longer in the room; whether she had left or had been ordered out by the Old Man I do not know and it did not seem to matter. The Old Man stepped up to me after I had been prepared, laid a hand on my arm, and said quietly, "Thanks, son."
I did not bother to answer.
I did not see them handle the parasite as it took place behind my back. There was a rig which I had seen them bring in which appeared to be modified from the remote-handling gear used on radioactives; no doubt they used that. I was not interested enough to look, even if I had been able to turn my head far enough, which I couldn't.
Once the ape barked and screamed and someone shouted, "Watch it!"
There was a dead silence as if everyone was holding his breath-then something moist touched the back of my neck and I fainted.
I came out of it with the same tingling energy I had experienced once before. I knew I was in a tight spot, but I was warily determined to think my way out of it. I was not afraid; I was contemptuous of those around me and sure that in the long run I could outwit them.
The Old Man said sharply, "Can you hear me?"
I answered, "Of course I can. Quit shouting."
"Do you remember what we are here for?"
I said, "Naturally I remember. You want to ask some questions. What are you waiting for?"
"What are you?"
"Now that's a silly question. Take a look at me. I'm six feet one, more muscle than brain, and I weigh-"
"Not you. You know to whom I am talking-you."
"Guessing games?"
The Old Man waited a bit before replying, "It will do you no good to pretend that I don't know what you are-"
"Ah, but you don't."
"Or, rather, that I don't know that you are a parasite talking through the body of a man. You know that I have been studying you all the time you have been living on the body of that ape. I know things about you which give me an advantage over you. One-" He started ticking them off.
"You can be killed.
"Two, you can be hurt. You don't like electric shock and you can't stand the amount of heat even a man can stand.
"Three, you are helpless without your host. I could have you removed from this man and you would die.
"Four, you have no powers except those you borrow from your host-and your host is helpless. Try your bonds; then be sensible. You must cooperate-or die."
I listened with half an ear; I had already been trying my bonds, neither hoping nor fearing, but finding them, as I expected, impossible to escape. This did not worry me; I had neither worries nor fears. I was oddly contented to be back with my master, to be free of troubles and tensions. My business was to serve and the future would take care of itself.
In the meantime I must be alert, ready to serve him.
One ankle strap seemed less tight than the other; possibly I might drag my foot through it. I checked on the arm clamps; perhaps if I relaxed my muscles completely-
But I made no effort to escape. An instruction came at once-or, I made a decision, for the words mean the same; I tell you there was no conflict between my master and me; we were one-instruction or decision, I knew it was not time to risk an escape. I ran my eyes around the room, trying to figure who was armed and who was not. It was my guess that only the Old Man was armed; that bettered the chances.
Somewhere, deep down, was that dull ache of guilt and despair never experienced by any but the servants of the masters-but I was much too busy with the problem at hand to be troubled by it.
"Well?" the Old Man went on. "Do you answer my questions, or do I punish you?"
"What questions?" I asked. "Up to now, you've been talking nonsense."
The Old Man turned to one of the technicians. "Give me the tickler."
I felt no apprehension although I did not understand what it was he had asked for. I was still busy checking my bonds. If I could tempt him into placing his gun within my reach-assuming that I could get one arm free-then I might be able to-
He reached past my shoulders with a rod. I felt a shocking, unbearable pain. The room blacked out as if a switch had been thrown and for an undying instant I was jolted and twisted by hurt. I was split apart by it; for the moment I was masterless.
The pain left, leaving only its searing memory behind. Before I could speak, or even think coherently for myself, the splitting away had ended and I was again safe in the arms of my master. But for the first and only time in my service to him I was not myself free of worry; some of his own wild fear and pain was passed on to me, the servant.
I looked down and saw a line of red welling out of my left wrist; in my struggles I had cut myself on the clamp. It did not matter; I would tear off hands and feet and escape from there on bloody stumps, if escape for my master were possible that way.
"Well," asked the Old Man, "how did you like the taste of that?"
The panic that possessed me washed away; I was again filled with an unworried sense of well being, albeit wary and watchful. My wrists and ankles, which had begun to pain me, stopped hurting. "Why did you do that?" I asked. "Certainly, you can hurt me-but why?"
"Answer my questions."
"Ask them."
"What are you?"
The answer did not come at once. The Old Man reached for the rod; I heard myself saying, "We are the people."
"The people? What people?"
"The only people. We have studied you and we know your ways. We-" I stopped suddenly.
"Keep talking," the Old Man said grimly, and gestured with the rod.
"We come," I went on, "to bring you-"
"To bring us what?"
I wanted to talk; the rod was terrifyingly close. But there was some difficulty with words. "To bring you peace," I blurted out.
The Old Man snorted.
" 'Peace'," I went on, "and contentment-and the joy of-of surrender." I hesitated again; "surrender" was not the right word. I struggled with it the way one struggles with a poorly grasped foreign language. "The joy," I repeated, "-the joy of . . .nirvana." That was it; the word fitted. I felt like a dog being patted for fetching a stick; I wriggled with pleasure.
"Let me get this," the Old Man said thoughtfully. "You are promising the human race that, if we will just surrender to your kind, you will take care of us and make us happy. Right?"
"Exactly!"
The Old Man studied me for a long moment, looking, not at my face, but past my shoulders. He spat upon the floor. "You know," he said slowly, "me and my kind, we have often been offered that bargain, though maybe not on such a grand scale. It never worked out worth a damn."