Parker withdrew and closed his mind to the young scientist. He’d seen something beyond the glow, a steady red-orange light. It burned as warmly as a star. The light disturbed him as much as if he’d seen a cancerous growth inside the young brain. The light was Love.
The Primagnon couldn’t understand the emotion. It was not a part of his being. Primagnons could offer understanding and even sympathy, but they could not love. They had a substitute, but It didn’t weaken them like it could weaken and even destroy the human spirit. Yet in this young man, Love glowed with a steady flame. Love for those close to him and love for his fellow human beings.
Parker sighed as he reached back over his desk and released the power that held Kirk immobile. If a Primagnon could be discouraged, the leader was discouraged. He admired this young physicist and despite what he’d just seen, he felt Kirk could still be a valuable addition to their organization. The Blue Light! -- it was also there in Kirk’s mind. It made the Leader wonder if somewhere in Kirk Miller’s dim past there might have been a Primagnon ancestor.
Impossible! Nowhere in Primagnon history had they fraternized with human beings. Yet, there within Kirk’s mind burned the blue flame only born Primagnon’s possess. He wondered at this similarity, but was more disturbed by the distressing, bright-burning red-orange beacon he’d seen. He had great plans for the young man and Love might stand in the way. Hate he could deal with --but Love?!
The Primagnon’s thoughts were interrupted by movement as Kirk made a halfhearted attempt to rise. Finally he stopped struggling against the two guards and surrendered to their superior strength.
Parker returned to his desk and sat down. From this vantage point he could control the young man if necessary. He looked steadily at the physicist and then asked the guards to leave. They hesitated for a moment until Parker assured them he would be safe.
After the guards had left the room, the Primagnon began to speak to Kirk. As with the others, he outlined his plans for the world.
“The suggestion that global warming was the cause of the world’s troubles was only the narrow view of your scientists, and reduction of burning fossil fuels not only came too late, but could never have solved the problem. We’ve been aware of this impending situation for centuries. We anticipated the change in the earth’s axis and alignment of the planets, as well as the current escalation of sun spot activity, the real cause of this irreversible drought. We researched every possibility for survival, including the one you’re working on. Our alternative is more sophisticated, but similar, yet even our plan cannot save every human and animal on earth. Nothing or no one can accomplish that miracle. Some most be sacrificed. It’s a regrettable fact, but unavoidable.”
Kirk sat straight in the chair and glared at Parker. For as the Primagnon outlined his strategy, the you physicist was struck dumb by the future under Primagnon rule. The Leader spoke calmly of The Great Change, with detached logic, yet Kirk couldn’t relate to his plot to murder nearly a billion human beings over the face of the globe. He had no frame of reference for such an abominable act, except the atrocities committed by Hitler’s Nazis during the Second World War.
The Primagnon pressed his point: The population had to be reduced in order to sustain life on earth. But, genocide on such a scale! No -- genocide on any scale was too horrendous for Kirk to comprehend.
The Primagnon continued to speak, yet, at the same time he was able to listen in on Kirk’s thoughts.
“Don’t you see Kirk? Our way is the only Humane way. If the world follows your proposition, many will die anyway -- die wretchedly and painfully from starvation and thirst. Our method is simple and painless. The Passing Over of unnecessary beings is a beautiful dreamlike state which ends in a void. It’s somewhat like The Change, except there is no return.”
With venom, Kirk demanded. “Are you a God then?!”
“Not exactly, but perhaps as close to a God as this earth will ever see. A demigod, if you wish” he added with enthusiasm. “Kirk, You can be one of us.”
“In one short year, with your help and the help of others,” Parker went on. “We can save the world from extinction>”
He stood tall, his nostrils flared slightly. He gazed past the seated physicist, as if his eyes were fixed on some distant star. The lights within his eyes glittered with feeling.
“A cruel god, then!” snorted Kirk.
“Oh no, Kirk -- benevolent. However, even gods are imperfect. We cannot save everyone, Only those who deserve to live. Only the fittest and those willing to work for the Cause. We can make the Passing of the rest painless,--perhaps even sublime.”
Kirk interrupted Parker’s zealous argument. “At first, I didn’t recognize the pictures in your mind. Now I do, and your plan for the world is monstrous!”
“But Kirk, it’s the only way. Can’t you see that?!” The Primagnon was almost pleading for understanding.
“You want me to be one of you, to be a part of your inner circle,’’ The physicist glared at the Primagnon and then added with loathing. ‘If you saw anything inside my brain, you know I can never condone what you propose.”
“I’d hoped you’d see how imperative it is for us to succeed. Now, however, I’m beginning to wonder if you are too much like the old gentleman who sat there a short time ago.”
Once more Parker had to try and convince him. He began his final argument. He was inspired by his own Gospel of Truth.
“The world has come full circle from the days of savages to a new age when once again the weak will not survive.”
Primagnon Parker could see Kirk’s anger cool to intense curiosity. The Leader stood between Kirk and the desk complex as he continued.
“This new era brings with it an old law: the first law of nature. Only those who are strong willed can continue to exist. Only the achievers who love no one but themselves and their own ambitions will carry on the work of living.”
“You see Kirk, the only difference between the days when men huddled around the first fire and the present, is technology. Technology is the one achievement that can save civilization. Yes, Technology. And I must compliment you on your outstanding contribution. With the Senator’s help you’ve created one solution to this irreversible crisis.”
The younger man squirmed in his chair.
“You are very generous,” Kirk demurred sarcastically.
The Primagnon pretended not to notice the young man’s sneer, though he kept a mental check on the physicist's emotional thermometer.
“Your method is very close to our own. A bit crude and unwieldy, yet it remains a brilliant achievement. Your only mistake is believing it can save the entire population.
Parker read the discouraging thoughts in the young man’s mind.
“Take heart, Kirk,’ he said in an attempt to console the physicist. “Your Rain Machine works. It always has. Unfortunately for us, your discovery offered the world hope before we were ready to give it. You dangled the carrot we needed to win our own ascendancy to power. We had to slow down your progress until we could put ours into effect.”
The Primagnon leader paused to survey the young man in the chair. What would this next bit of news bring? Trust and friendship meant so much to these humans. The young man’s animosity had cooled somewhat. the Primagnon decided to release the next bombshell.
“There is someone on your own staff who is of our---uh--persuasion. He obligingly arranged a bit of sabotage.”
Kirk was now staring at the Primagnon in disbelief, his attention riveted to the Leader’s arresting eyes.
Parker was curious how the scientist’s computer brain would react to the next news as he said aloud.
“I’m afraid my next confession may be more traumatic than anything else you’ve heard this evening. You see, our agent at the Bay Project is -- Doctor Donovan!”
Kirk’s expression didn’t change nor his eyes flicker as the color drained from his face.
The Primagnon could see the pain written behind the young man’s eyes.
“You mustn’t feel the less for Donovan,” he continued. “He loves you. Yes you are like son to him. No, he’s not a Primagnon yet. When he told me he sensed you possessed valuable hidden powers, we both felt you might see though his disguise as you saw through my poor performance earlier this evening. Therefore, at least for now, Donovan remains a human being.”
At last the young man found his voice,
“Donovan...? Oh, my god. Donovan, how could he?!”
“Because he sees the rightness of our course. He’s a scientist, but he has a practical side, too. A Primagnon’s gift for practicality. You must see Donovan is right. You’ve got to understand, Kirk.’
The Primagnon could see the physicist was confused and deeply hurt by Donovan’s treachery.
“Your civilization has become placid and weak,” the Primangon went on. “Primagnons can sympathize with the weak of heart and body, but we cannot permit them to stand in the way of the continuance of the Lif e Force. We will either convert you or use you to gain our goals. The Great Change must be made within a year. Our biggest stumbling block is a shortage of leaders. And that’s why we need you. The Great Change will be made regardless, but the transition will come easier for everyone if those who can be an asset to us will join out crusade.
The Primagnon studied the man who sat slumped in the chair before him. No...he had no alternative. The final test for Kirk Miller, though completely repugnant to him, was necessary. It had been planned carefully as the last means to gain this brilliant human being’s trust. Yet he felt the emotional cruelty to put the final examination into effect would be a difficult trial for both of them.
Finally Parker spoke. “Kirk, I believe I said earlier--this evening has been a test of all of you human beings. To say we Primagnons are selective may sound snobbish, but it ‘s unavoidable. Some humans simply cannot be Changed. Our equipment is sophisticated, but not perfect. It can plumb the human soul only to a certain depth. Those areas of human behavior completely alien to our society can only bee seen by our machines. Unfortunately, It is often difficult to determine whether these traits can be erased during the metamorphosis.”
Kirk was still steeped in the misery of his own depression and fatigue, Nevertheless, he listened to each word the Primagnon uttered. The unreality and horror the Primagnon had outlined by statement and innuendo, pushed him further into his malady. Dejection topped by the new knowledge of Donovan’s infidelity. Now Kirk was only half listening, lulled by the Primagnon’s voice. Exhaustion had caught up with him and conscious and subconscious were fighting a battle with reality. Whole chunks of his life flashed through his mind in a vague delirium. The values he’d placed on his life’s work were being tossed aside. Sharon? Where was Sharon? She’d always been around to bolster him, to encourage him when he needed her. A sudden thought sobered him, had he really depended on her that much?
Kirk stirred in his chair as the Primagnon continued.
“Your brotherly love and high moral standards could stand in the way of your init- iation as a Primagnon, and that would be tragic.” Parker continued.
He nodded sadly. “Yes I know at the moment our philosophy is distasteful to you. But you have no choice. The selection is made by us. We must now examine the depth of your regard for humanity against your love for Shana.”
At Parker’s use of Sharon’s byname, Kirk came part way out of his stupor.
“You asked if you wife was safe. I’m afraid she has also been a stubborn subject.” Once more Parker moved to the console and press the button to activate the giant view screen. Sharon’s face flashed before them. An extreme close-up dominated the room. Her face was etched in pain and tears stained her cheeks. Her head was bent forward slightly so her dark hair tumbled to cover part of her face. There was a dark smudge under each eye and her lipstick was smeared. The picture widened to show the left side of her dress was torn away to expose one breast. As the picture included more of his wife, the distraught husband saw she was strapped into a contraption reminiscent of the electric chair. Figures moved around her. From a brazier of coals one of the shadows picked up a branding iron and checked it. It was red hot. Kirk could feel fury begin to rise at the sight of other instruments of torture. The Primagnon could sense the rage building in the young scientist and decided to immobilize him with the chairs paralyzing power. No need for violence yet.
Kirk grew terrified for Sharon’s safety and was doubly frustrated to discover the Leader had reactivated the chair’s power over h im.
Parker ran a slim hand over h is eyes. He had to admit the sight of the young woman on the screen was enough to dishearten even the strongest spirit. She was moaning softly and calling out.
“Help! Someone, Please helm me. Please!!”
Kirk pulled and struggled against the power of the chair.
“Sharon, Sharon!” he cried out as if in pain. He could speak, but was otherwise helpless,
“Parker, I--I’ll kill you for this!
“Your wife has not been seriously harmed -- yet. It’s up to you to save her.”
Kirk was glaring at the Primagnon. Parker had his total attention.
“This is the final test to see how tenaciously you cling to your worthless emotions.”
“Parker, what do you want?!” screamed the scientist.
Parker could see Kirk’s anguish was unbearable. it was apparent he’ do anything to save the one person most dear to him.
“I only want you to commit murder,” replied the Primagnon in a steady, low voice. “I want you to take the life of one of you fellow human beings in exchange for the life of your beloved Shana.”
Kirk was struck by the insupportable demand as if he’d been slapped.
“Yes,” continued Parker.
You have a choice. Will your love for your wife outweigh your love for humanity? That is the issue here.”
“B-But, I c-can’t.”
“I think you can. I think you will,” the Primagnon assured him as he pressed a button on his desk.
Moments later two guards entered the room carrying a strange bundle which they proceeded to place on a nearby chair. Kirk could see it was Mrs. Jackson. The black lady was trussed up alike a chicken. Her mouth was gagged and Kirk could read the terror in her eyes.
“You don’t mean?--You c-can’t expect...?
“But I do expect you, to do your duty if you expect me to free your wife unharmed. The choice is yours.’
Parker turned away from the distraught young scientist and motioned to one of the Primagnons who stood behind Mrs. Jackson’s chair. The guard came forward and handed him a gun--a conventional forty-five caliber police revolver. Parker removed the force that held Kirk captive and stepped toward him. Behind the Leader, the face of Sharon loomed huge. Her hoarse whisper filled the room.
“Please help me, Please help me!”
Kirk buried his head in his hands. the pressure of his emotions were unbearable and he felt as if his mind was cracking under unexpected forces.
This time as he spoke. the Primagnon’s voice held an edge of cruelty.
“Here, no time for that, Kirk. Time now for action!”
Kirk looked up to see Parker holding the forty-five before his face. He shank back.
“Get up!” demanded the Leader.
Kirk hesitated.
“Get Up!” and this time the demand was an order.
Kirk could see the pitiful face of Sharon in back of Parker on the screen and struggled to rise. One of the guards moved forward to assist him.
“Take this,” the leader commanded as he pushed to gun at Kirk.
Still Kirk faltered. The horrible thing he was being asked to do, couldn’t penetrate the dread that gripped him. His rage was nor replaced by stifling panic. He had been given a choice, but both were insupportable. Either way, he must
kill a human being, an act contrary to his who moral code. He love his wife, but also loved mankind.
Now on the screen he saw something which made his eyes widen in terror. One of the figures near Sharon withdrew the branding iron from the coals and it was white hot. He held it close to the woman’s face and the terrified image screamed, a pitiful heart-shattering sound. the Primagnon bent and took Kirk’s limp hand and pressed the pistol into it.
The screaming stopped and was replaced by gasping sobs. Kirk looked down the object in his hand. The weapon seemed to weigh him down.
“Hold on to it. guard it, Kirk. it’s the means to your wife’s salvation.
The Primangon took the dazed scientist by the arm and led him to the motionless form of Mrs. Jackson. Kirk’s attention was still held by the threatened figure on the screen,
“Kirk, this is Mrs. Althea Jackson.” The young man stood as if transfixed. “Kirk?” Parker’s insistent voice broke through and kirk looked down at the miserable creature in the chair. He was drawn by the terror in her eyes. Eyes that rolled in the dark face, looking first at one and then the other. Finally they riveted on the weapon in Kirk’s hand.
“Come Kirk, you are wasting valuable time. If you want your wife back alive and well, you must eliminate this useless old woman.”
Tears welled up in the young scientists eyes as he looked into the pitiable face of the old black woman. Her eyes were pleading with him. She appeared to represent all the millions fated to be slaughtered at the hands of the monster standing beside him. It occurred to him he could turn the gun on the Primagnon and strike a blow for salvation.
Parker read his thoughts saying.
“No, Kirk, that would avail you nothing.”
The figure on the screen screamed again and Kirk’s attention was jerked toward it. He tried to step toward the image and choked out the onename,
“Sharon!”
One of the figures was fastening a garrote around her neck.
“NowKirk...Now!”Parker demanded and Sharon’s eyes beyond him were echoing his pleas.
EIGHTEEN
Kirk turned back to Mrs. Jackson and fell to his knees before her. He lay his head on her lap and moaned.
“Please, Mrs. Jackson. Please,” as if she could release him from his dilemma.
After some moments he felt her move slightly. When he looked up into her face, it was no longer fused with terror. Her eyes were calm and although tightly bound, she nodded to him as best she could. Parker helped Kirk to rise and the scientist barely noticed his touch.
“Look Kirk, she’s an old woman and can’t live much longer. You must see her death has little meaning, whereas Sharon’s life has great value. Kill her!” He commanded.
Although Kirk was shaken by the ominous order, he slowly began to raise the revolver. Slowly--slowly...until it was pointed at the old woman’s head. He no longer seemed to have control over his actions. Mrs. Jackson looked serene, as if waiting for some profound event.
Kirk’s hand was trembling violently until he heard a noise from the screen and saw the garrote slowly tightening around Sharon’s throat. A strangled voice came from the screen.
“Kirk, help me! Please help me!’’
“Kill her!” demanded the Primagnon in a vicious whisper.”
Had Kirk looked at the Primagnon, he would have seen the Leader’s forehead was covered with perspiration.
Kirk turned away from Mrs. Jackson's calm old eyes and closed his own. He had to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering.
“That’s it.” Parker told him. “Now, just a little to the right. “Good, that’s perfect. Now Squeeze the trigger!”
There was a deafening report as the high caliber pistol fired. Kirk wasn’t even aware he’d pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot froze him and he kept his eyes tightly closed. From far away he heard the voice of the Primagnon.
“Oh, Kirk, now see what you’ve done.”
Unnoticed, the gun had fallen to the floor, Drawn by the Primagnon’s voice and the horror of the crime, Kirk turned slowly and looked down at the inert form in the chair.
“See what you’ve done?” the Primagnon repeated.
Then Parker did something which at first seemed abhorrent to the younger man. The Primagnon Parker started to pull at the face of the old lady. First he plucked at the nose. Then at the ear. He pulled and tore at the face. It appeared a stupid, senseless thing to do. Then Kirk began to see the reason behind the Leader’s strange actions and they were more terrible that the murder itself.
First the white wooly hair was torn away. Dark, silky tresses spilled forth. White skin began to appear under the black, as the Primagnon slowly, tantalizingly stripped away the face of the old black lady and revealed the death-white face of--Sharon!
Kirk froze where he stood. The blood drained from his face as the hideous reality sank into his heart--the gruesome truth. He’d just murdered the one person he care for most in the world. He’d killed his own wife.
When he realized how Parker had tricked him, the coldness left Kirk to be replaced by the white heat of terrible rage. Before the others in the room could stop him, Kirk fell screaming onto the kneeling Primagnon. He grabbed and shook the Leader by the throat. As the fury which had been building throughout the long evening overtook him, all the power concentrated in his hands as they tightened around the Leader’s windpipe.
“You monster! You miserable monster!” Kirk screamed as he tightened his grip. Through tears of fury and pain, Kirk could see the Primagnon's eyes bulge as if they might pop form his head.
Parker struggled to free himself. What had only been seconds seemed to drag on for long minutes. Suddenly Kirk went limp and fell forward on top of the Leader as one of the guards fired a tranquilizing jolt into him. He was knocked completely unconscious.
The guards helped their gasping Leader extricate himself from the tangle of Kirk’s arms and legs. He hand went to his throat and for a moment he struggled to regain his breath.
“Are you all right, sir?” one of them asked.
“Yes, I think so.” gasped the Leader. “I knew our young friend was a strong, healthy specimen, but never dreamed he possessed such power.” Parker looked down at the unconscious physicist. Good, Kirk,Good! he thought to himself. With anger, comes courage. To the guards he said.
“You may take him back to the others now.
The guards lifted the physicist gently onto a gurney and wheeled him from the room. The primagnon stood alone massaging his bruised throat as he tried to regain his composure. From behind him on the screen, Sharon’s image was still speaking but with the repetition of a cracked record.
“Kirk, please help me!” (click) “Kirk, Please help me! (click)
The Leader pressed a button and the screen went black. He turned toward the inert, bound figure in the chair.
“An excellent performance my dear. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, thank you, sir. But he seems to have caused you some damage.” Sharon said with concern.
“It will pass in a moment. We Primagnons have extraordinary recuperative powers. Here, let me help you Shana,” The Primagnon moved forward to help her untie her bonds.
She rubbed her wrists for a moment before speaking.
“Sir, when will you know the outcome?”
“Of Kirk’s test results? They should be completed in a few moments.” He wore a strained expression. “I’m afraid however -- Well, let’s wait and see.”
He went behind the desk and sat down, hesitating a moment before pressing a button marked Computer Room. A voice sprang from the speaker next to him.
“Yes, sir,” it asked.
“The final read-out on Dr. Kirkland Miller, please.”
“Same as the first analysis, sir.”
“The L factor still negative?” the Primagnon asked with a sigh.
“I’m afraid so, sir?
> “No chance for error?
“Sorry, sir,’
“Then we’ve wasted our time.”
“It’s too bad, sir, he was an ideal candidate.”
The Primagnon paused for a moment. He was visibly shaken by the news. Then he took a deep breath and spoke.
“Yes, too bad. You’ll arrange it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please call Donovan at the Bay Project,” Parker added “Ask him for a token gesture. He’ll understand.”
“Yes sir,”
“Thank you, that will be all for now.”
Parker pushed the button again, got up and moved to stand beside Sharon.
“I’m sorry, My dear. It’s as I predicted.” He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “i’m afraid Kirk is lost to us.”
They stood together for a few moments without speaking. Almost as if observing a moment of silent prayer for a departed friend.
Far away, behind the deep blackness Kirk began to hear faint noises. Familiar sounds were dragging him back -- tugging at his consciousness. As the sounds grew more distinct he began to recognize them as voices calling his name. It was like moving down a dark hall with a light showing faintly at the end. The hall was shrouded in fog so the light was diffused. Sounds reverberated inside his brain. He moved in slow motion toward the light and at last the fog began to lift. The light became hundreds of points of brilliance that were pierced by dark moving shadows. At last the shadows took shape and he heard one calling his name.
“Dr. Miller, can you hear me?”
“I think he’ coming out of it,” another voice said.
Although the figures were lit from behind by the giant chandelier, Kirk recognized one as Jim Paulson, the other was the Dr. Craig who’d treated Senator Shipley. Behind them stood the tall dark form of a black man. Kirk’s f irst impression was the haggard look about them. Their faces looked drawn and tired.
The fragments fell together and suddenly it all came back to him. The pain of memory filled him as he fought to control his emotions.
Someone else joined the group hovering around him. It was Mrs. Jackson. Seeing her there -- alive after the agonizing scene in Parker’s office caused Kirk to groan in pain.
The little black lady held a glass in her hand. She leaned forward and lifted his head slightly to assist him.
“Here, drink this, young man. It’ll make you feel better.”
She held the glass to his mouth and he drank the cool liquid. He remained numbed by deep grief, first the tragic death of his mentor, the unnerving interrogation by Parker, and finally the murder of his wife.
Though he was badly shaken, he knew he had to do something. But what? Suddenly a spark of memory struck him--a vague recollection from an event earlier in the evening.
“Yes, that’s it!” he whispered to himself.
Mrs. Jackson had laid him back on the gurney, but during the time she held him, He could see out of the corner of his eye their guards were talking among themselves, apparently oblivious to the little drama nearby.
“Jim,” Kirk whispered. “Ask the guards if you can wheel me into the alcove where they put the Senator earlier.
Paulson was puzzled by the request, but did as Kirk asked. The guards shrugged and nodded.
“The rest of you come with us,” Kirk added softly.
As Paulson and Henry Jackson wheeled Kirk past the Primagnon guards, he faked unconsciousness and they apparently assumed he was being taken to the quieter vestibule to recover.
Once inside the alcove Kirk threw off the sheet that covered him and sat on the side of the gurney. He gestured for the others come closer. They sensed the secrecy of what he was about to say and gathered as close around him as possible. The group consisted of Mrs. Jackson, her son Henry, Sally merrywether, Paulson and Dr. Craig.
He looked around at his fellow conspirators and started to explain his plan.
“I assume you’ve all been interviewed by these so-called Primagnons?” They all nodded or murmured in agreement.
“Then I gather that, to put it mildly, you also disagreed with their plan in one way or another?” Again they all agreed.
“Then we’re outcasts, apparently incompatible with their grand design. I’ve no idea what they plan to do with us now, But I do know we’ve got to do something to stop them from destroying us all. So far they’ve been using a powerful secret weapon on us -- Fear.” They’ve kept us so stifled by our own terror we’ve forgotten our wits, our power to reason. But, the Senator said it -- We’ve got to do something to stop their destruction of mankind.
“While coming to my senses just now I remembered something I saw while we were all stunned by the Senator’s death. Something in this room that didn’t register until just now.
Kirk stopped to look at them and realized something had happened to him during this evening. He could feel a new power surging though him. And although he was still a prisoner of the Primagnons, he sensed a new determination within himself. He quickly accepted this new strength and went on.
“We’ve assumed the only entrance or exit to these rooms are the big doors at either end. If I’m not mistaken, there’s also a way out of this very alcove.”
His comrades looked around mystified. “I know, It looks solid enough, but if you’ll remember after the Senator’s death, we left the alcove to the Primagnons. I happened to look back for a moment and thought I saw a dark opening with a light beyond. Unfortunately, I wasn’t functioning clearly at the time and let it pass.”
He glanced toward the alcove entrance, but the archway was partially covered over with potted palms and the guards were out of sight. He rose and went to the back wall of the alcove and touched the wall tentatively while his comrades moved to stand near him. He gave the wall another push and it gave slightly. Kirk turned to smile at the group.
You won’t believe this, but I have a feeling this entire ballroom is nothing but a shell--a flimsy veneer like some movie set. We’ve been imprisoned in the cardboard box of our own fear.”
Several of the small group put their hands out to feel the walls, a look of disbelief on their faces. The young physicist was right, The walls looked sturdy and solid yet were flimsy to the touch.
“By God, Miller!” Jim Paulson offered. “I think you’re right! Looks like a good swift kick would send it toppling like a house of cards.”
“Mrs.Jackson,’ Kirk asked the little black lady. “”Would you please check on the Primagnons?”
“Of course,” she replied and moved quietly to a position behind the potted palms where she was hidden, but had a good view of the ballroom.
“Not a Primagnon in sight,” she whispered over her shoulder.
Kirk checked along the elegant molding that adorned the wall of the alcove.
“Ah, here we are,” he smiled at the others. “Jim, Please give me a hand.”
Kirk took hold of the wainscote molding and lifted it slightly. The flimsy section of panel began to move and was so light, help was’t necessary The panel was easily lifted out and they leaned it against the wall beside the opening. Beyond the makeshift door was a dark opening lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.
“Here’s the plan I have in mind,” whispered Kirk. “I think it would be best of the ladies waited for us here. We’ll scout the way and if we find a way out, We’ll send someone for help and come back for the others.
“Jim, I want to go with you.” Sally whispered, taking Paulson by the arm.
“I think Dr. Miller is right Sal,” replied the reporter reassuringly. “It could be more dangerous out there than it is in here.”
“We'd just be in the way, dear,” agreed Mrs. Jackson who had rejoined the group.
Kirk showed the women how to replace the panel. Paulson gave Sally a lingering kiss while Henry Jackson said farewell to his mother. Then they joined Dr. Craig and Miller and the four men stepped through the opening. They hel
ped the ladies return the panel to it’s proper place and inspected their new surroundings.
The area beyond the panel was dimly lit, but they could see some distance in either direction. Kirk had told the story right. The outside of the ballroom resembled the back side of a stage or movie set. Just so many flats with braces to hold them in place. A giant cardboard box. Opposite the flimsy ballroom, however, was a wall of concrete forming a hallway about six feet wide that stretched away in both directions.
“Unless I’m mistaken,” Kirk told the men, “the street entrance should be off in that direction.”
“Looks about right to me,” agreed Paulson.
They set off, moving briskly, yet quietly. At the corner of the concrete structure was another light. When they reached it, Jackson let out a surprised gasp.
“Eggs! Ninety-nine cents a dozen? That must have been a while back.”
The other looked at the small faded sign Jackson had pointed out at the corner of the building. It wasclear to them the ballroom was built inside a huge deserted supermarket. One closed down years before.
They paused for only a moment when Kirk reminded them of their mission.
“No time for nostalgia, gentlemen. We’d better get going The theater entrance has to be over this way.”
As they moved off, they suddenly heard a sound from behind them and realized someone was approaching along the passage way from the direction they’d just come.
NINETEEN
The Alternative Page 16
