"We want those recordings, Mr. Payne."
They seemed to be convinced the microphones were his. Only Harry knew it
wasn't true. But to admit it might mean he wouldn't leave Paula's place
alive. He derived no comfort from the knowledge that someone else was
interested in Paula's activities. That wasn't helping him with his
problem of the moment. He could see no clear way out. He had to keep
stalling. And as long as they were so sure of themselves it might even
be to his advantage to maintain a certain arrogance.
"I might as well tell you, Thompson, I have no intention of cooperating
until I know a few facts about you and your friends. Like who you are,
where you're from, what you're after ..."
"It is not necessary, in order to tell us where the recordings are,"
smiled Mr. Thompson, "that you know anything more about us."
"It isn't necessary," said Harry, "but I want to know."
Chase started to voice an objection but Harry broke in.
"And don't tell me you have more persuasive ways of making me talk. You
can use force but it'll take time. Your time is valuable or you wouldn't
have hustled me over here as fast as you did. So let's _not_ waste your
time. You tell me, then I'll tell you."
Thompson glanced at his two compatriots. Their faces registered
dissatisfaction. Their silence said that Harry was right. Time was
valuable. They would follow the path of least resistance.
"Our point of origin," Mr. Thompson began, "is Correylla, roughly
seven-eighths the size of Earth, in the Syrybic Galaxy. It is
approximately ... in your figures ... seventy-five trillion miles
distant."
"Must be quite a trip." Harry tried to be placid.
Mr. Thompson was momentarily amused. "Travel through Time and Space is
something we take for granted. The farthest corners of the Universe are
ours for the reaching. That is the foremost reason for our visit to your
Earth. You might call us Galactic Observers. You see, we already control
the twelve inhabited planets in our own Galaxy. And at this time we have
no desire to take on any more responsibility than that. But neither do
we want interference from another Galaxy ... such as this one!"
* * * * *
Harry was surprised. "You're giving this world a lot of credit. We've
barely moved off the Earth. What makes you think we could cause your
people any trouble?"
"By merely projecting yourselves into space you have eliminated the
major obstacle to space travel. Remember it took thousands of years for
someone on your Earth to discover electricity. But observe the wonders
you have accomplished with it in the relatively few years _since_ it was
discovered. The same principle applies to your conquest of space. We are
not here to do you harm, Mr. Payne. It is merely our intention to warn
you, when the time comes, of the dangers you face should you decide to
venture too far."
"For people who intend no harm I'd say you and your friends are putting
on quite an unconvincing show."
"I assure you, Mr. Payne, our visit to Earth was intended purely for
observational purposes!"
"What do you mean, _was_?"
* * * * *
Thompson's face was grim. The easy chair that had accommodated his
small, roundish frame so perfectly now appeared to be uncomfortable for
him. A redness crept into his cheeks and spread over his smooth, tight
scalp.
"The fact is that your government has known about us for six months. Our
exact whereabouts has been a well guarded secret ... but they _were
informed_ of our presence here on Earth."
"Informed! But who could tell them ..."
Chase broke in impatiently. "We are wasting time! We must get those
recordings!"
The interruption was dismissed with a wave of Thompson's hand.
"Your government was informed by George Fisher."
"George Fisher!" Harry gulped.
"You see, Mr. Fisher ... that wasn't really his name, you understand ...
was one of us ... a member of our observation team. After we arrived
here ... well, you might say he defected, gave your government the
benefit of his somewhat limited knowledge."
Harry whistled. "And because of him your mission is no longer
observational."
"That remains to be seen."
Harry leaned forward on the sofa. "You have any ideas, Mr. Thompson,
about why he defected? I'm curious to know why a man is unhappy enough
with his own lot to run away and put himself in the hands of a
civilization that is in every way alien to him."
Thompson's answer was brief and deliberately ambiguous. "Mr. Fisher was
a traitor. What more can be said of him?"
"So he didn't commit suicide," Harry muttered.
"That's right, Mr. Payne."
"I take it you're not sure of how much Fisher told the government before
you got to him."
"Mr. Fisher's limitations were familiar to us. It is the potential of
your own scientists now that they have his information that we are most
concerned with."
Keep stalling, Harry reminded himself ... keep speculating, guessing,
theorizing, anything for time.
"So you know the project that Weapons Development is working on but you
don't know how much progress has been made. And you want to place one of
your own people in there to find out."
"Thanks to you, we have succeeded in doing just that." Thompson smiled
with satisfaction, having kept his part of a bargain. "Now about those
recordings...."
"I'm not through asking questions."
"But I'm through answering them, Mr. Payne. Tell us where the recordings
are."
* * * * *
Harry studied the clean, smooth surface of Thompson's face. There was a
gentleness in his large, round eyes. There was also an unfriendliness.
Harry had to keep stalling. He knew any answer he gave them would
shorten his life expectancy by about thirty-five years.
"You've gotten me into a mess of trouble, Mr. Thompson. I think you owe
me a little more. My memory might prove clearer if I knew what was going
on at Weapons Development."
Thompson glanced at his two companions. They showed no sign of dissent.
"Very well, Mr. Payne. For some years now our people have been working
on a method of reversing the polarity of the atom. We have tried to
create an electro-magnetic field which would repel rather than attract.
Once we are able to accomplish this we can develop an instrument capable
of disturbing the molecular structure of any object in the universe."
"In other words ..." Harry frowned at him, "a weapon capable of
disintegration?"
"Precisely!"
Harry sat there, stunned. A few moments seemed hardly enough to digest
the knowledge that Weapons Development was working on the most
incredibly advanced weapon of all time. And Mr. Thompson and company
were out to sabotage it. Their people could not afford to allow another
world to beat them to the punch. Who controlled this weapon controlled
the universe. Stalling the aliens was more important than ever now. He
couldn't heighten the danger to his own life. It wasn't worth a lead
nickel anyway. If it had been, Thompson wouldn't have consented to tell
him this much.
Someone else had wired Paula's apartment. It was reasonable to assume it
was someone on his side.
"The recordings, please!!" Boles was becoming very impatient.
Harry looked up and found a gun at his head. "The recordings are at my
office," he lied.
Thompson walked to the telephone table and brought the instrument to
him. "You will call your secretary," he said, "and tell her you have
been detained at lunch. You are sending Mr. Chase to pick up the
recordings."
Harry glanced around the room. Paula was sulking at the bar near the
door. Drowning her conscience, he thought. They must have paid her a
fortune to sell out her own people. Boles and Chase both had their guns
poised. Thompson picked up the receiver and extended it to him.
There was no way out, no stalling them any longer. To make a break for
it would be suicidal. In the state of confusion his mind was in, he
could think of only one thing to do. When he reached Miss Conway, he
would have to warn her somehow--a few desperate words and pray that she
would be alert enough to realize he was in trouble and get the
information to the authorities.
* * * * *
He took the phone and dialed. He gave the Fort Dickson operator his
office extension. He waited. The phone rang. It rang again. Then three
more times. Damn that girl! Her coffee breaks were extended vacations!
Finally the phone was picked up. But the voice that answered was male.
"Who is this?" Harry demanded.