Sweat broke out on Davies' forehead. "You broke the Code. Don't you
think I can imagine how it was to fall? You louse!"
* * * * *
Suddenly, Davies triggered his safety belt. At close range, before
the lines could fan out in a radius, all the lines in front attached
themselves to Price, the ones at each side clung to their table and the
floor, and all the others to the table behind Infield. Davies released
all lines except those on Price, and then threw himself backward,
dragging Price out of his chair and onto the floor. Davies didn't mind
making others fall. They were always trying to make _him_ fall just so
they could laugh at him or pounce on him; why shouldn't he like to make
them fall first?
Expertly, Davies moved forward and looped the loose lines around
Price's head and shoulders and then around his feet. He crouched beside
Price and shoved the bottle into the gasping mouth and poured.
Price twisted against the binding lines in blind terror, gagging and
spouting whiskey. Davies laughed and tilted the bottle more.
Mrs. Price screamed. "The Cure! If you get that much liquor in his
system, it will kill him!" She rocked the rag doll in her arms, trying
to soothe it, and stared in horror.
Infield hit the big man behind the ear. He dropped the bottle and fell
over sideways on the floor. Fear and hate mingled in his eyes as he
looked up at Infield.
Nonsense, Infield told himself. Eyes can't register emotion.
Davies released his lines and drew them in. He got up precariously.
"I'm going to kill you," he said, glaring at Infield. "You made me fall
worse than Georgie did. I'm really going to kill you."
Infield wasn't a large man, but he had pressed two hundred and fifty
many times in gym. He grabbed Davies' belt with both hands and lifted
him about six inches off the floor.
"I could drop you," the psychiatrist said.
"No!" Davies begged weakly. "Please!"
"I'll do it if you cause more trouble." Infield sat down and rubbed his
aching forearms.
* * * * *
Davies backed off in terror, right into the arms of Reggie. The waiter
closed his huge hands on the acrophobe's shoulders.
"_You_ broke the Code all the way," Reggie said. "The Good Book says
'Thou shouldn't kill' or something like that, and so does the Code."
"Let him go, Reggie," Price choked out, getting to his feet. "I'm not
dead." He wiped his hand across his mouth.
"No. No, you aren't." Infield felt an excitement pounding through him,
same as when he had diagnosed his first case. No, better than that.
"That taste of liquor didn't kill you, Price. Nothing terrible
happened. You could find some way to get rid of that Cure."
Price stared at him as if he were a padded-cell case. "That's
different. I'd be a hopeless drunk without the Cure. Besides, no one
ever gets rid of a Cure."
They were all looking at Infield. Somehow he felt this represented a
critical point in history. It was up to him which turn the world took,
the world as represented by these four Cured people. "I'm afraid I'm
for _less_ Cures instead of more, Price. Look, if I can show you that
someone can discard a Cure, would you get rid of that--if I may use the
word--_monstrous_ thing on your head?"
Price grinned. Infield didn't recognize its smugness at the time.
"I'll show you." He took off the circlet with the lightning rod and
yanked at the wire running down into his collar. The new-old excitement
within was running high. He felt the wire snap and come up easily. He
threw the Cure on the floor.
"Now," he said, "I am going out in that rain storm. There's thunder and
lightning out there. I'm afraid, but I can get along without a Cure and
so can you."
"You can't! Nobody can!" Price screamed after him. He turned to the
others. "If he reveals us, the Cause is lost. We've got to stop him
_for good_. We've got to go after him."
"It's slippery," Davies whimpered. "I might fall."
Mrs. Price cuddled her rag doll. "I can't leave the baby and she
mustn't get wet."
"Well, there's no liquor out there and you can study your text in the
lightning flashes, Reggie. Come on."
* * * * *
Running down the streets that were tunnels of shining tar, running into
the knifing ice bristles of the rain, Henry Infield realized that he
was very frightened of the lightning.
There is no action without a reason, he knew from the old neglected
books. He had had a latent fear of lightning when he chose the
lightning rod Cure. He could have picked a safety belt or foetic gyro
just as well.
He sneezed. He was soaked through, but he kept on running. He didn't
know what Price and Reggie planned to do when they caught him. He
slipped and fell. He would soon find out what they wanted. The
excitement was all gone now and it left an empty space into which fear
rushed.