"Listen to me," Kayle said grimly. "Give me straight, fast answers. You
said the Master Tape was there, in the vault with you. Now tell me:
What does it look like?"
"What?"
"The ... ah ... dummy tape. What is its appearance?"
"It's a roughly square plastic container, bright yellow, about a foot
thick. What about it?"
Kayle's voice sounded strained. "I've made inquiries. No one here seems
to know the exact present location of the Master Tape. Each department
says that they were under the impression that another handled the
matter. I'm unable to learn who, precisely, removed the Tape from the
vault. Now you say there is a yellow plastic container--"
"I know what the Master Tape looks like," I said. "This is either it or
a hell of a good copy."
"Granthan," Kayle said. There was a note of desperation in his voice
now. "There have been some blunders made. I knew you were under the
influence of the Gool. It didn't occur to me that I might be too.
Why did I make it possible for you to successfully penetrate to the
Central Vault? There were a hundred simpler ways in which I could have
dealt with the problem. We're in trouble, Granthan, serious trouble.
The tape you have there is genuine. We've all played into the enemy's
hands."
"You're wasting valuable time, Kayle," I snapped. "When does the bomb
go up?"
"Granthan, there's little time left. Bring the Master Tape and leave
the vault--"
"No dice, Kayle. I'm staying until I finish the transmitter, then--"
"Granthan! If there's anything to your mad idea of such a machine,
destroy it! Quickly! Don't you see the Gool would only have given you
the secret in order to enable you to steal the tape!"
I cut him off. In the sudden silence, I heard a distant sound--or had I
sensed a thought? I strained outward....
"_... volunteered ... damn fool ... thing on my head is heavy ...
better work...._
"_... now ... okay ... valve, gas ... kills in a split second ... then
get out...._"
I stabbed out, pushed through the obscuring veil of masonry, sensed a
man in the computer room, dressed in gray coveralls, a grotesque shield
over his head and shoulders. He reached for a red-painted valve--
I struck at his mind, felt him stagger back, fall. I fumbled in his
brain, stimulated the sleep center. He sank deep into unconsciousness.
I leaned against the table, weak with the reaction. Kayle had almost
tricked me that time.
* * * * *
I reached out again, swept the area with desperate urgency. Far away, I
sensed the hazy clutter of many minds, out of range. There was nothing
more. The poisonous gas had been the only threat--except the bomb
itself. But I had to move fast, before my time ran out, to transmit the
bomb to a desert area....