"I won't waste time with too many questions just now," Dowland said.
"The laboratory is locked, and the machine you started in there
apparently is still in operation. Your brother was found outside the
laboratory yesterday morning, and may be dead or dying of internal
radiation burns. He was alive and didn't seem to be doing too badly
when I left him and Miss Trelawney in the house last night to go
looking for you. I had to drug Miss Trelawney--she isn't a very
cooperative person. She should still be asleep.
"Now, if I hadn't showed up here just now, what did you intend to do?"
"I intended to stop the machine, of course," Trelawney said. His
expression hadn't changed while Dowland was talking. "Preferably
without involving the Solar Police Authority in our activities. But
since you've now involved yourself, I urgently suggest that we go to
the laboratory immediately and take care of the matter together."
* * * * *
Dowland nodded. "That's what I had in mind, Trelawney. Technically
you're under arrest, of course, and you'll do whatever has to be done
in there at gun point. Are we likely to run into any difficulties in
the operation?"
"We very probably will," Trelawney said thoughtfully, "and it's just as
probable that we won't know what they are before we encounter them."
Dowland stood up. "All right," he said, "let's go. We'll stop off at
the house on the way. I want to be sure that Miss Trelawney isn't in a
position to do something thoughtless."
He emptied the magazine of Trelawney's rifle before giving it to him.
They started down to the house, Trelawney in the lead, the IPA gun in
Dowland's hand.
The house door was closed. Trelawney glanced back questioningly.
Dowland said in a low voice, "It isn't locked. Open it, go on in, and
stop two steps inside the hallway. I'll be behind you. They're both in
the living room."
He followed Trelawney in, reaching back to draw the door shut again.
There was a whisper of sound. Dowland half turned, incredulously felt
something hard jab painfully against his backbone. He stood still.
"Drop your gun, Dowland," Jill Trelawney said behind him. Her voice
was as clear and unslurred as if she had been awake for hours. Dowland
cursed himself silently. She must have come around the corner of the
house the instant they went in.
"My gun's pointing at your uncle's back," he said. "Don't do anything
that might make me nervous, Miss Trelawney."
"Don't try to bluff Jill, friend," Paul Trelawney advised him without
turning his head. There was dry amusement in the man's voice. "No one's
ever been able to do it. And she's quite capable of concluding that
trading an uncle for an SPA spy would still leave Terra ahead at this
stage. But that shouldn't be necessary. Jill?"
"Yes, Paul?"
"Give our policeman a moment to collect his wits. This does put him in
a very embarrassing position, after all. And I can use his help in the
lab."
"I'll give you exactly three seconds, Dowland," Jill said. "And you'd
better believe that is _not_ a bluff. One...."
Dowland dropped his gun.
* * * * *
The two Trelawneys held a brief, whispered conversation in the living
room. Dowland, across the room from them, and under cover of two guns
now, couldn't catch much of it. Jill was in one of the radiation suits
he'd brought in from the storeroom. Miguel was dead. He had still
been unconscious when she woke up, and had stopped breathing minutes
afterwards. Medic had done what it could; in this case it simply hadn't
been enough. Jill, however, had found another use for it. Dowland
thought the possibility mightn't have occurred to anyone else in
similar circumstances; but he still should have thought of it when he
left the house. As she began to struggle up from sleep, she remembered
what Dowland had told her about medic, and somehow she had managed to
inject a full ampule of it into her arm. It had brought her completely
awake within minutes.
The murmured talk ended. The girl looked rather white and frightened
now. Paul Trelawney's face was expressionless as he came over to
Dowland. Jill shoved the gun she had put on Dowland into her belt,
picked up Paul's hunting rifle, held it in her hands, and stood waiting.
"Here's the procedure, Dowland," Trelawney said. "Jill will go over to
the lab with us, but stay outside on guard. She'll watch...."
"Did you tell her," Dowland interrupted, "to keep an eye out for
something that stands twice as high as this house?"
Trelawney looked at him a moment. "So you ran into it," he said. "I
was wondering. It's very curious that ... well, one thing at a time. I
cautioned her about it, as it happens. Now come over to the table."
Dowland remained standing beside the table, while across from him
Trelawney rapidly sketched out two diagrams on a piece of paper. The
IPA gun lay on the table near Trelawney's right hand. There might have
been an outside chance of reaching it if one could have discounted
Jill's watchfulness. Which, Dowland decided, one couldn't. And he'd
seen her reload the rifle she was holding. He stayed where he was.
Trelawney shoved the paper across to him.
"Both diagrams represent our machine," he said, "and they should give
you a general idea of what you'll see. This wheel here is at the far
side of the console when we come in the door. The wheel is the flow
regulator--the thing you have to keep in mind. There are scale markings
on it. The major markings have the numbers one to five. Yesterday
morning the regulator was set at five--full flow. Spin the wheel back
to one, and the Ym-400 that's been producing the flow goes inert. Is
that clear?"