Mr Murry released Meg and knelt in front of the little boy. Charles, his voice was tender. Charles Wallace.
What do you want?
Im your father, Charles. Look at me.
The pale blue eyes seemed to focus on Mr Murrys face. Hi, Pop, came an insolent voice.
That isnt Charles! Meg cried. Oh, Father, Charles isnt like that, IT has him.
Yes. Mr Murry sounded tired. I see. He held his arms out. Charles. Come here.
Father will make it all right, Meg thought. Everything will be all right now.
Charles did not move towards the outstretched arms. He stood a few feet away from his father, and he did not look at him.
Look at me, Mr Murry commanded.
No.
Mr Murrys voice became harsh. When you speak to me you will say No, Father, or No, sir.
Come off it, Pop, came the cold voice from Charles Wallace Charles Wallace who, outside Camazotz, had been strange, had been different, but never rude. Youre not the boss around here.
Meg could see Calvin pounding again on the glass wall. Calvin! she called.
He cant hear you, Charles said. He made a horrible face at Calvin, and then he thumbed his nose.
Whos Calvin? Mr Murry asked.
Hes Meg started, but Charles Wallace cut her short.
Youll have to defer your explanations. Lets go.
Go where?
To IT.
No, Mr Murry said. You cant take Meg there.
Oh, cant I!
No, you cannot. Youre my son, Charles, and Im afraid you will have to do as I say.
But he isnt Charles! Meg cried in anguish. Why didnt her father understand? Charles is nothing like that, Father! You know hes nothing like that!
He was only a baby when I left, Mr Murry said heavily.
Father, its IT talking through Charles, IT isnt Charles. Hes hes bewitched.
Fairy tales again, Charles said.
You know IT, Father? Meg asked.
Yes.
Have you seen IT?
Yes, Meg. Again his voice sounded exhausted. Yes. I have. He turned to Charles. You know she wouldnt be able to hold out.
Exactly, Charles said.
Father, you cant talk to him as though he were Charles! Ask Calvin! Calvin will tell you.
Come along, Charles Wallace said. We must go. He held up his hand carelessly and walked out of the cell, and there was nothing for Meg and Mr Murry to do but to follow.
As they stepped into the corridor Meg caught at her fathers sleeve.Calvin, heres father!
Calvin turned anxiously towards them. His freckles and his hair stood out brilliantly against his white face.
Make your introductions later, Charles Wallace said, IT does not like to be kept waiting. He walked down the corridor, his gait seeming to get more jerky with each step. The others followed, walking rapidly to keep up.
Does your father know about the Mrs Ws? Calvin asked Meg.
There hasnt been time for anything. Everythings awful. Despair settled like a stone in the pit of Megs stomach. She had been so certain that the moment she found her father everything would be all right. Everything would be settled. All the problems would be taken out of her hands. She would no longer be responsible for anything.
And instead of this happy and expected outcome, they seemed to be encountering all kinds of new troubles.
He doesnt understand about Charles, she whispered to Calvin, looking unhappily at her fathers back as he walked behind the little boy.
Where are we going? Calvin asked.
To IT. Calvin, I dont want to go! I cant! She stopped, but Charles continued his jerky pace.
We cant leave Charles, Calvin said. They wouldnt like it.
Who wouldnt?
Mrs Whatsit and Co.
But theyve betrayed us! They brought us here to this terrible place and abandoned us!
Calvin looked at her in surprise. You sit down and give up if you like, he said. Im sticking with Charles. He ran to keep up with Charles Wallace and Mr Murry.
I didnt mean Meg started, and pounded after them.
Just as she caught up with them Charles Wallace stopped and raised his hand, and there was the elevator again, its yellow light sinister. Meg felt her stomach jerk as the swift descent began. They were silent until the motion stopped, silent as they followed Charles Wallace through long corridors and out into the street. The CENTRAL Central Intelligence Building loomed up, stark and angular, behind them.
Do something, Meg implored her father silently. Do something. Help. Save us.
They turned a corner, and at the end of the street was a strange, domelike building. Its walls glowed with a flicker of violet flame. Its silvery roof pulsed with ominous light. The light was neither warm nor cold, but it seemed to reach out and touch them. This, Meg was sure, must be where IT was waiting for them.
They moved down the street, more slowly now, and as they came closer to the domed building the violet flickering seemed to reach out, to envelop them, to suck them in: they were inside.
Meg could feel a rhythmical pulsing. It was a pulsing not only about her, but in her as well, as though the rhythm of her heart and lungs was no longer her own but was being worked by some outside force. The closest she had come to the feeling before was when she had been practising artificial respiration with Girl Scouts, and the leader, an immensely powerful woman, had been working on Meg, intoning OUT goes the bad air, IN comes the good! while her heavy hands pressed, released, pressed, released.
Meg gasped, trying to breathe at her own normal rate, but the inexorable beat within and without continued. For a moment she could neither move nor look round to see what was happening to the others. She simply had to stand there, trying to balance herself into the artificial rhythm of her heart and lungs. Her eyes seemed to swim in a sea of red.
Then things began to clear, and she could breathe without gasping like a beached fish, and she could look about the great, circular, domed building. It was completely empty except for the pulse, which seemed a tangible thing, and a round dais exactly in the centre. On the dais lay what? Meg could not tell, and yet she knew that it was from this that the rhythm came. She stepped forwards tentatively. She felt that she was beyond fear now. Charles Wallace was no longer Charles Wallace. Her father had been found but he had not made everything all right. Instead everything was worse than ever, and her adored father was bearded and thin and white and not omnipotent after all. No matter what happened next, things could be no more terrible or frightening than they already were.
Oh, couldnt they?
As she continued to step slowly forward, at last she realized what the Thing on the dais was.
IT was a brain.
A disembodied brain. An oversized brain, just enough larger than normal to be completely revolting and terrifying. A living brain. A brain that pulsed and quivered, that seized and commanded. No wonder the brain was called IT. IT was the most horrible, the most repellent thing she had ever seen.
But as she had felt she was beyond fear, so now she was beyond screaming.
She looked at Charles Wallace, and he stood there, turned towards IT, his jaw hanging slightly loose; and his vacant blue eyes slowly twirled.
Oh yes, things could always be worse. Those twirling eyes within Charles Wallaces soft round face made Meg icy cold inside and out.
She looked away from Charles Wallace and at her father. Her father stood there with Mrs Whos glasses still perched on his nose did he remember that he had them on? and he shouted to Calvin. Dont give in!
I wont! Help Meg! Calvin yelled back. It was absolutely silent within the dome, and yet Meg realized that the only way to speak was to shout with all the power possible.