"James, the door if you please."
The field of my TII interacted with the field of the TI and released the front door from time stasis. James pulled it open, closed it behind us, and we marched into the building. Once the door was closed not even an atom bomb would be able to open it. Such power I possessed!
"The big double doors ahead," Sybil said.
"The ones with the blue baa—baas on them?" She nodded.
"Despicable taste," Angelina said and her arm holster whipped her gun out and back in microseconds. She was looking for trouble and I hoped she didn't find it.
The boys each took a handle and pulled when I nodded. There, directly ahead of us and staring at us was Slakey.
Reflex whipped out six guns. Angelina had one in each hand, which were slowly replaced.
Like his frozen audience, Slakey was pinned into an instant of time. Mouth open in full smarmy flight, fixed beads of perspiration on his brow. Not a pretty sight.
We walked around his audience and up the steps to his pulpit. "Are you ready my love?", I asked Angeina.
"Never readier."
She reached out and placed the contact disk of the temporal inhibitor against the side of his head, just above his ear. She nodded and I touched the button.
Nothing that we could observe happened. But for that brief millisecond the TII field had been turned off and the machine had sucked a copy of Slakey's memory, his intelligence, his every thought into its electronic recesses. "The readout reads full!" Angelina said.
"Slakey, you devil from Heaven and Hell," I exulted. "I have you now!"
Chapter 25
I worried at a fingernail with my incisors, waiting for something to go wrong. Slakey had been one step ahead of us every time so far—and not one of our operations against him had ever succeeded to any measurable degree. We had avoided disaster only through heroic efforts and last—minute leaps. It did not seem possible that on this occasion everything had worked according to plan. I had both hands around the TI; I kept it with me at all times. Now it sat on my lap as the shuttle eased into Special Corps Prime Base. I looked at the needle, as I had hundreds, thousands of times before, and it was up against the red post that read full.
Full of Professor Justin Slakey? It had better be.
It was an expectant crowd that assembled in the laboratory. Even Berkk was there, fully recovered from the brain operation and now enjoying some much deserved R and R. The talking died away and a hushed silence prevailed when I presented, almost ceremoniously, the TF to an expectant Professor Coypu.
"Is he in there?" I asked.
"I don't see why not." He tapped the dial. "Reads full. We'll see. But of course there remains the major problem. How do we get Slakey Out of this TI? I can't feed him into another machine—there would still be no way to access him. I need a human host. You will remember what that is like, Jim, when you used my brain and memories to build a time machine."
"I let you take over my own gray matter. It was not nice. And you left me a note saying it was the hardest thing you ever did, to switch the TF off after you had built the temporal helix. To literally commit suicide."
"Exactly. We need a volunteer to be plugged into this TF so that a madman can control his brain and body. And Slakey will not want to leave once he is there. Not too tempting a prospect. So—with those facts in mind, who will volunteer?"
This got a very impressive silent silence as everyone present thought hard about it. I realized that I had better volunteer again, better me than my wife or sons. But as I opened my mouth Berkk spoke up.
"Professor, I think you have your man. I owe you people an awful lot, owe Jim who got me out of the rock works, owe Angelina who got us out of that hell in Heaven. I was dying down there with the others. I owe my life to you both and I don't want to see you or your sons, or Sybil, letting this nutcase near their gray matter. Just one question, Professor Coypu. Are you sure you can get him out—and get me back in when it is all over?"
Coypu nodded furiously. "Can be done, no doubt, just blast him out with a neural charge if I have to."
"Wonderful—what will happen to the me in there if you do that?"
"Interesting thought. A neural blast cleans everything out and sets the synapses back to neutral. But—not to worry. We'll make a recording of you in a different TF. This technique works quite well, as Jim will tell you. So whatever happens with Slakey, in the end we will get yourself back inside yourself."
"All right." He rose to his feet slowly, his face very pale under the dark scars. "Do it quickly before I have a chance to change my mind."
Quickly really was very quick with Coypu. He must have been holding a psycho blaster in his lap because there was a loud humming and Berkk folded. Angelina and I were there to catch him before he hit the floor.
A padded operating table rolled out of the massed machinery and we placed him gently on it. Coypu got to work. He took an empty TF from the shelf and plugged it into the back of Berkk's head. Worked the controls and nodded happily.
"There. This very brave young man can now go back on the shelf. If Slakey causes trouble I will then zap him Out of the neurons and get Berkk back with this. Now—to work."
He seized up the Slakey TF and placed it onto the workbench, then slipped a multiganged plug into the TF's socket. He ran an electronic check of the contents before reeling out the contact and connecting it to Berkk's head.
"Wait," I said. He stopped. "How about securing Berkk's body in place so he doesn't hurt himself—or us."
"I will have him securely under electronic control—"
"Slakey has never been under control in the past. So let us be sure and take no chances now."
Coypu threw a few switches and padded clamps hummed out from below the table. I locked them securely into place on ankles and wrists. Found a large belt and secured that around his waist and nodded to Coypu. He put the final connection into place, then threw some more switches as he swung a microphone down in front of his mouth. "You are asleep. Very much asleep. But you can hear me. Hear my words. You will not wake up. But you will hear me. Can you hear me?"
The speaker rustled a bit and there was a sound like a sigh. Then the words, almost inaudible: "I can hear you."
"That's very good." He turned up the amplification a bit. "Now, tell me—who are you?"
I don't know why they are called pregnant silences, perhaps because they are pregnant with possibilities. This one had all kinds of possibilities. The loudspeaker rustled again. "My name is… Justin Slakey..
Who can blame us for shouting with joy. We had done it!
Not quite. Berkk, or his body, was writhing and fighting against the bonds. He bit his lips until they bled. Then his eyes opened.
"What are you doing to me? Are you trying to kill me? I'll kill you first..
The writhing stopped and he dropped back heavily as Coypu let him have it with his handy psycho blaster.
It was not going to be easy. Even with James helping, a far more skilled hypnotist than Coypu, it was impossible to exercise any control over Slakey. Just about the time they would hypnotize one Slakey another would take over. And all the subsequent thrashing about wasn't doing Berkk's body much good, what with fighting against the restraints, chewing on his lips and so forth.
"Time for some professional help," Coypu said. "Dr. Mastigophora is on his way. He is the leading clinical psychosemanticist in the Corps."
"Super—shrink?" I asked.
"Absolutely." Dr. Mastigophora was lean to the point of emaciation, all sinew and leather, carrying an instrument case and sporting a great growth of gray hair. "I assume that is the patient?" he said, pointing a long and knobby finger.
"It is," Coypu said. Mastigophora glared around at his auclience.
"Everyone out of here," he ordered as he opened his instrument case. "With the single exception of Professor Coypu."