throw the ray?" asked Foulet, and I knew he wasthinking of that glider that rose from the roof-tops ofConstantinople. Fraser also knew he was thinking of that.
"I did not draw the glider," he said quietly. "The airplane I sent didthat. My airplanes carry batteries of this ray. In the beginning Ifound gliders to be more practical for my purposes than airplanes. Forone thing they were silent. My only problem was that of getting themoff the ground. Once they were in the air I could manage everything.It was this problem that inspired this discovery and perfection of theray. But, you asked how far I can throw the ray? This main lamp, thatI operate myself from here, is effective at two hundred miles. At onehundred miles it enjoys its full power."
"And you can draw anything to you," asked Brice, "within the radius ofthe magnetic ray?"
"Anything in the air," answered Fraser. "But of course I must usecaution. Great caution. If I drew planes to me indiscriminately Iwould draw attention to myself; my secret and my location here wouldleak out. No. That must not be. So the only planes I bring are myown--and yours." He paused and his black eyes, again glassy, sweptover us. "It is a compliment I pay you," he said finally. "You havebecome too troublesome. You know too much. Sooner or later the timewould come when you would combine your forces. That would be anuisance. So I decided to bring you here."
"Suppose," asked Foulet curiously, "we hadn't fallen into your trap?Suppose we had turned back before reaching the point where your ray iseffective?"
Fraser shook his head and that smug, offensive smile appeared again."You were trapped from the beginning, though you didn't know it," hesaid. "The plane you were following was equipped with batteries of theray which, while not as powerful as the lamp I have here, were stillpowerful enough to hold you to the course we choose you to run. Butenough of the ray," he added impatiently. "There are one or two otherthings I want to explain and then--" he paused and the pause, somehow,was alive with menace. What was he going to do after he had finishedtreating us as honored guests? For the third time he answered myunspoken question. His eyes narrowed till they were black, glitteringslits. His voice, as he leaned toward us, was no more than a hissingwhisper.
* * * * *
"Slaves!" he said, and his lips twisted. "How will you like to beslaves of Mad Algy Fraser?" He laughed--a chuckle that started in histhroat and rose and rose till it seemed to shatter my ear-drums. Ifelt my teeth grinding together and my nails bit my palms in my effortto control my nerves against the strain of that maniacal glee.Suddenly he sobered. His laugh died instantly like a radio that hadbeen snapped off. "Listen and I will tell you. I will tell youeverything because it is necessary for you to know so that you maywork for me intelligently and you will remember better and be ofgreater use to me if I tell you now while you are yet--sane!"
"Sane!" The exclamation sprang from the three of us simultaneously. Ifelt a cold chill start between my shoulder blades. For an instant mybreath choked in my throat. My heart paused--and then raced. What didhe mean? What was he going to do to us? What scheme had he evolved inhis crazed brain?
"I have perfected a serum"--his tone was professional, cold; he mighthave been talking to a class in a lecture room--"a serum that robs thepatient of every vestige of human emotion--and therefore sanity. Allhis intellect, his memories, however, remain, to serve him in carryingout my orders. He loses all his will to live and resist, and becomesnothing but an automaton, whose complete mental equipment is at mycommand."
There was silence. His glassy black eyes, blank and soulless, sweptover us. His mouth curled in that smug, complacent smile. He had uswith our shoulders to the floor. He knew it--and he knew we knew it.There was no possible way we could escape. We were two thousand feetabove the earth. Our plane wouldn't get a quarter of a mile before themagnetic ray would bring it back. Parachute? Even supposing we couldget parachutes where would we go? Drop two thousand feet into themiddle of the Arabian Desert?
My brain raced. Never before had I been in such a tight place. Andsoon--if Fraser had his way--I wouldn't even have a mind to thinkwith! I felt choked, stifled. Was there no way out? It seemed to methat a blanket--a soft, terrible blanket of uncontrollablecircumstance--was being folded around me, robbing me of the use of mylimbs, paralyzing me, numbing me. And out of this terriblehelplessness came again Fraser's voice.
"I have told you enough," he said suavely, "so that you may have afaint idea of my power. I will send you now to Doctor Semple who willadminister the serum and place you under the 'nourishment ray.' Thisis another of my discoveries," he added casually. "It is a ray whichallows the patient to absorb, through the shell of the skin,sufficient nourishment, both solid and liquid, to last for twenty-fourhours."
* * * * *
Five minutes later we stood in a small room that might have been theoffice of an up-to-date physician anywhere in the world. Across thepolished top of a mahogany desk Dr. Semple stared at us, his eyes,like the eyes of our guide and Fraser, polished and expressionless.But now we understood. Those eyes were expressionless because therewas nothing to give them expression. I tried to force my mind tocomprehend the almost incomprehensible. We were among men who were notmen! We were fast in the power of human beings who possessed no traceof humanity, who had become nothing but scientific Robots even thoughthey still had bodies of flesh and blood! It was unbelievable! Myhands grew cold and my brain hot at the thought. Yet, gazing into thebright, enamelled eyes of Dr. Semple, I knew it was true.
Carefully, scientifically, we were prepared for our injections. Andwith every mechanical move of the doctor my mind seemed to take onfresh speed as it raced toward some solution to our terrible problem.My eyes flew around the tiny office searching for some means ofescape. Doctor Semple turned to prepare the syringe. Behind his backBrice gestured frantically. Somehow I understood. In my pocket was aflask--a flask I had filled with drinking water in Constantinople.Bewildered, I handed it over to him.
The doctor turned, swabbed a patch of iodine on our arms, reached forthe syringe. As he leaned over, Foulet thrust forward a foot. Thedoctor tripped, sprawled full length on the floor. Foulet and Iquickly stooped to pick him up, standing between him andBrice--shielding his eyes so that he could not see. We fumbled to giveBrice time. We apologized and soothed. Out of the tail of my eye Icould see Brice working like lightning--emptying out the syringe ofthat villainous liquid, filling it with clear water.
* * * * *
It was done! We raised the doctor to his feet; gave his clothes afinal brush. But as we stood back I know my hands were trembling and Ihad to clamp my teeth to keep them from chattering. Were we out ofdanger yet? Would the doctor discover our ruse? And, if we got out ofhis office without receiving the terrible injection, could wesuccessfully fool Fraser and his "slaves" into believing we were mad?Fool them until we got a chance to escape? Could we simulate thatglassy stare? Were we sufficiently good actors to get away with it?The questions pounded and raced through my brain in that instant whenDoctor Semple turned again to his desk and picked up the syringe.
But the miracle happened! Mechanically he gave us the injection--neversuspecting that it was not the devilish liquid he had put in, but onlyclear water! Then he stepped back and watched us. Cold chills raced upand down my spine. What were we supposed to do now? What was theaction of the serum? Did it act at once or slowly? Was it supposed tomake us sick? Did it send us to sleep? How could we simulate symptomswhen we had no idea what these symptoms were supposed to be? But thecold voice of the doctor cut sharply across my agonized questions.
"You will lie down here," he said, opening a door into a room whosetrails were lined with bunks, like an opium den. "In half an hour Iwill come for you. By that time--" His lips spread in that sametravesty of a smile Fraser had employed.
We filed into the room and the door closed behind us. Obediently welay down on the narrow bunks. We dared not speak. We scarcely daredglance at each other. We must act, at all times, as if we wer
eobserved. Might not Fraser have a ray that could penetrate walls?Might he not, even now, know that we had outwitted the doctor and hadnot received the fatal injection? And what then? Suppose Fraserhimself superintended another injection? I pulled my thoughts backfrom the terrible supposition. One thing at a time. So far all hadgone well. I lay down on the bunk and closed my eyes.
Half an hour later we heard the door open. Now, I, thought, when Ilook up, I am supposed to be mad! I struggled to make my mind a blank.I tried to force into my eyes that peculiar, brilliant, shiny, vacantexpression I had noticed. Would I succeed?
* * * * *
I raised my eyes. The doctor was standing before us. With a gesture hebade Foulet go to him. I watched beneath lowered lids.