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that was hypnotic.
It was very quiet in the room. The silence of the end of the world seemed to
flow out of the box in waves, engulfing all sound except for De Kalb's heavy
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breathing and the quicki rasping breath that came and went as Murray sat
motionless, staring at the flicker of lights that had been lit at the world's
end and sent back to us along the circumference of time.
I found that I was holding myself tense in that silence. I was waiting waiting
for the nova to burst again inside me, perhaps. Waiting for another killing,
perhaps somewhere in my sight this time, perhaps someone in this room. And I
was waiting for one thing more the first spreading coldness that might hint to
me that my own flesh, like the stone of the studio hearth, had given ropt to
the nekron.
The box closed. The lights vanished from the ceiling.
Murray very slowly sat upright in his chair. . . .
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De Kalb leaned back heavily, his curiously dull eyes full on Murray's face.
"And that's the whole story," he said.
It had taken over an hour of quick, incisive questions and painstaking answers
to present Murray with a complete picture of the situation in which he himself
played so curious a part. We all watched his face, searching, I think, for
some sign of the tremendous intellectual and emotional experience through
which everyone must go who opened that box.
Nothing showed. It was the stranger because I knew Murray was almost a
hysteric, psychologically.
Perhaps he'd learned to control himself when he had to. Certainly he showed
nothing of emotion as he shot his cold, watchful questions at De Kalb.
"And you recognized me," he said now, narrowing his eyes at De Kalb. "I was in
that that underground room?"
"You were."
Murray regarded him quietly, his mouth pulled downward in a curve of
determination and anger.
"De Kalb," he said, "you tell a good story. But you're a grasshopper. You
always have been. You lose interest in every project as soon as you think
you've solved it. Now listen to me a minute.
The indoctrination project you were working on with me is not yet fully
solved. I know you think so. But it isn't. I see exactly what's happened.
Hypnosis as an indoctrination method has led you off onto this wild scheme.
You intend to use hypnosis on whatever guinea-pigs you can enlist and "
"It isn't true, Murray, It isn't true." De Kalb was not even indignant, only
weary. "You saw the
Record. You know."
"All right," Murray admitted after a moment. "I saw the Record. Very well.
Suppose you can go forward in time. Suppose you step out, back in the here and
now, ten seconds after you step in. You say no time is lost But what energy
you'll lose, De Kalb! You'll be a different man, older, tired, full of
experiences. Disinterested, maybe, in my project. I can't let you do it. I'll
have to insist you finish that first and then do what you like on this Record
deal of yours."
"It can't be done, Murray," De Kalb said. "You can't get around it that way. I
saw you in the time-
chamber, remember. You did go."
Murray put up an impatient hand. "Is this telephone connected with the
exchange? Thanks. I can't argue with you, De Kalb. I have a job to do."
We all sat quiet, watching him as he put a number through. He got his
departmental headquarters.
He got the man he wanted.
"Murray speaking," he said .briskly. "I'm at De Kalb's in Connecticut. You
know the place? I'm leaving immediately in my plane. I want you to check me in
as soon as I get there, probably around three. I'm bringing a man named
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Cortland with me, newspaper fellow you know his work? Good? Now listen, this
is important." Murray took a deep breath and regarded me coldly over the
telephone.
Very distinctly he said into it, "Cortland is responsible for that series of
murders he reported from Brazil. I'm bringing him in for questioning."
VII OUT OF CONTROL
I DIDN'T like the way he flew his plane. His hands kept jiggling with the
controls, his feet kept adjusting and readjusting the tail-flaps so that the
ship was in constant, unnecessary side motion in the air, Murray was nervous.
I looked down at the trees, the tilted mountain slopes, the roads shining in
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