"What? Where?"
"He is in Antarctican hands now. We sent him there but recently. He
waits for you. Spahl, is it time?"
"Not just yet," said the seal-man. "Kesley, will you remember what
we're doing--_later_? We're buying our lives from you. Will you
remember that?"
"I don't understand a thing," Kesley said wearily. "I don't even think
I want to understand. But yes, I'll remember. Sure." He rocked forward
on his chair, dizzy, confused.
The mutants gave way, and a new one entered the room--a small, very
pale man, normal except for the huge circumference of his skull.
"Edwin is a teleport," Spahl remarked casually.
"What--"
Suddenly Kesley felt himself struck by a blinding bolt of force; it
spun him around, whirled him as if he were in a maelstrom, lifted
him up. He saw the smiling faces of Spahl and Foursmith, saw all the
mutants dwindle behind him. He rose, higher and higher, spinning
vertiginously, frozen in an instantaneous moment of time. Space hung
beneath him.
Then he began to fall.