were running circlesaround each other, not far from the enclosure. As the dogs moved,Blekeke's head moved with them, back and forth and back again....
Suddenly one of the dogs, the smaller one--a black and white spanielwith flapping ears--turned and raced through the SRI compound, boundinggracelessly over the sprawled bodies of SRI members. The larger Germanshepherd gave two woofs and leaped playfully in pursuit. They passedwithin about ten feet of Blekeke.
When the German shepherd barked, I heard a thin, drawn-out squeak, likea mouse with his tail caught in a trap, come from Blekeke. He turnedaround with incredible speed and took a half-step in our direction. Hisface was distorted as though in pain, and for an instant I thought hehad stepped on a jagged piece of glass or something.
But then I recognized the expression on his face. It was not pain.
It was terror.
I noticed now that he was trembling violently. He twirled again andstarted in the opposite direction, stopped and turned swiftly aroundonce more. He acted as though he were surrounded on all sides byinvisible Martian-eaters.
The dogs paused at the edge of the enclosure for a moment to stand ontheir hind legs and exchange playful blows; then they raced off togethertoward the more densely populated beach area.
Blekeke's face suddenly relaxed, and with a final shudder he controlledthe trembling.
He was muttering: "Doggie, doggie, doggie" when he lowered his eyes tous, and he gave a little start as if he hadn't known we were standingthere.
"Hall. Hour halfish," he said after a moment's pause. Then he turned andwalked rapidly back into the midst of the prostrate SRI members and laydown.
Maxwell and I exchanged glances and walked away. I felt, all of asudden, rather sad and depressed. When we had gone a respectabledistance, I said, "Poor devil! Fear of dogs. It must be awful."
"Fear of dogs? Cynophobia? You think that's what it was?"
"Well, sure," I replied. "Only thing it could be."
Maxwell said, "First case I've ever seen of it."
"Me, too."
* * * * *
It was still not quite ten o'clock. We killed the next hour and a halfbasking in the Sun and taking occasional dips in the water. We had to goone at a time, because one of us had to stay and guard the defensemech.
At 11:30 we kept our appointment with Blekeke. He was alone in the SRIhall, a long, low, metal building located a half-mile down the beachfrom the general bathing area.
* * * * *
The hall had once been a storage warehouse of some kind--I have no ideawhat kind. But that had been a long time ago; and it was now usedexclusively for SRI meetings.
There was another building near it, the ramshackle, rambling mansion ofa long-dead millionaire, which had been appropriated by the SRI ashousing quarters for the members who did not care to stay in rooms orhotels in town. And most of them didn't.
Maxwell was interested in the house, but I couldn't tell him anythingabout it. I had never been in it, whereas I had been in the hall severaltimes. Of course, there was nothing much to explain about the hall--itwas practically bare.
The Sun Ray stood like an altar at one end. About thirty-five foldingchairs were lined up in rows facing the Ray. That was all.
Blekeke was doing something to the lamp part of the Ray when we camein--tightening the bulb, apparently. It was a very simple contraption.Nothing but a padded, white-sheeted reclining table suspended over thefull length of which was the lamp. The thing was operated by a bank ofcontrols wired up a few feet away from the table.
"Infra-red heat lamp," Maxwell whispered.
"Sure," I said. "But don't say so."
Blekeke saw us and jumped down from the platform and greeted us withopen arms, apologizing for his rude behavior on the beach.
I told him to forget about it; that I just wanted to ask him a fewquestions so I could write up my story about SRI--give him a little freepublicity.
Blekeke beamed. Said he'd be glad to help all he could.
But before I had a chance to ask any questions, he was blabbering: "Givetreatment. New, improve. Much healthier. Give try." And he was pushingus toward the machine.
I was not the least bit interested in taking a treatment, and I tried totell him so, as kindly as I could. But he was insistent.
Finally we agreed to take the treatment, hoping he would get it out ofhis system. I handed the defense mech to Maxwell and lay down. Couldn'ttell a damn bit of difference. Ten minutes of warmth and dozyrelaxation, and that's it. You don't feel a bit different after it'sover than you did before.
Unless you're a good cultist, and convince yourself by auto-suggestionthat all your bodily ills have been miraculously--if temporarily--bakedout.
After Maxwell had been given the treatment, I tried again to get Blekekepinned down to answering some of my questions, but it was no good.
He was obliging, cooperative and friendly as hell, but his heart justwasn't in it. He had to tell us about the improvements in the Ray, andwhen I threw specific questions at him, he always managed to answer withsome reference to the Ray and start all over again--and it was all puregibberish.
I gave up. We parted with mutual benedictions, and John Maxwell and Iwalked away, toward the one-track road leading to the old mansion.
"What do _you_ do in a situation like this?" I asked him.
He shrugged. "Try somebody else."
We walked up the front steps of the mansion, and I punched the doorbell.
It was no go there, either. The cultist who opened the door, whom Iremembered as a shoe salesman from Boise, informed us firmly and nonetoo politely that no one could enter without the explicit and writtenpermission of President Matl Blekeke. He showed no sign of recognizingme. He slammed the door.
I gave emphatic utterance to an unprintable word and said, "Let's goback to town."
* * * * *
Johnson showed up in the room promptly at six-thirty, as he hadpromised, again slipping in without knocking. He threw his briefcase andhis hat on the bed and pulled up a chair to the cardtable where Maxwelland I were playing chess.
"How about the defense mechs?" Maxwell asked.
"Hospital in New York is working on 'em," Johnson said. "Promised they'dhave 'em ready tomorrow morning. I'm going up tonight, after I getthrough here, so I can pick 'em up right away."
"Quick work," I said.
"Any new developments on this end? I've been too busy today gettingthings organized to keep an eye on you."
"Every twelve hours Langston's defense mech starts clicking," Maxwellsaid. "Four o'clock this morning and four o'clock this afternoon."
"So he's not giving up on you, anyway," Johnson said. "We know he'sstill around. What else? Anything new come up?"
I shrugged. "Spent the whole day on a wild goose chase--from my point ofview. Trying to dig up information for my feature about Suns-RaysIncorporated."
Johnson nodded. "No luck, huh?"
I told him about the so-called interview with Blekeke that morning, andhow in the afternoon I had tried to contact those SRI members who I knewhad been living in town. That had been futile, too; all of them hadmoved to the house on the beach. Then Maxwell and I had spent a coupleof hours in the library, checking reference books for some mention ofSRI or any of its members. With no results.
Johnson recognized the frustration in my voice. "Don't let it get youdown," he said.
I asked him if the C.I.D. had ever investigated the cult.
"Not yet," he said. "Not that I know of. But everyone that you've hadany contact with since you've been here is being checked thoroughly. Andsince that includes the SRI cult, it'll get a very complete going-over."
I said, "Well, shucks, then. All I have to do is sit back and let youfellows dig up the information I need."
"That, of course, depends on how the information is classified afterit's processed," Johnson corrected. "Maybe you can use it and maybe youcan't."
He shrugged. "Well, I've got a whole new batch of questions herefor you. That's my job right now. Let's get at 'em."
* * * * *
After Johnson was gone and I again felt mentally empty, I turned toMaxwell, who was pacing the floor restlessly: "Well, shall we go downand set up your defense barrier again?"
"Let's take a walk," he said. "I've got a headache. Fresh air mighthelp."
"Suits me," I replied. "I know of a little bar seven or eight blocksfrom here...."
I stopped because he was already going out the door, and I had to get upfrom the chair, grab the defense mech and run after him.
He wasn't hurrying, just walking casually, but