special ambulance gets here.'
Sammy shuffled forward, wide-eyed with fear, but desperately stern.
'Stevie, don't take any chances.'
Court ignored the old man as he ignored everyone else when his mind was absorbed.
'Marion, unpack my equipment. The ambulance should be here by tomorrow or the next day. In the meantime, I want to check every angle. Be sure that there's a supply of small animals for the patient. I don't know yet how much energy he needs, but he's broadcasting it at a terrific rate.'
Granger, clumsy in the lead suit, already left the room. Court looked at his watch.
'Lucky I got here in time. If Locicault had died—'
'Can you save him?' she asked eagerly.
'Of course not! I don't want to, even if I could. I want to stop the plague, and to do that, I must watch it run its course in a test subject. Locicault happens to be the only one we know about. There may be new cases at any time, but I can't afford to wait. For all I know, there may never be another case till the final crack-up. Then it will be too late to do anything.'
'What do you intend?' Marion asked, trying to hide her disappointment.
'I shall take Locicault back home with me, keep him in isolation, and feed him whatever may be necessary. Eventually the plague will run its course. Locicault may not die, but he may have to be destroyed.'
The door slammed open. Granger burst into the room, ripped off the lead suit. His gnomish face was gray with horror.
'Court, he's dead!'
'What?' Court's jaw trembled with indecision. 'No, he can't be. It's unconsciousness—' But already he was snatching the suit from Granger. 'Get me adrenaline, quick, another guinea-pig!'
They sprang to obey. Bearing his equipment, Court raced away. The minutes ticked slowly past, lagging unendurably. At last he came back, his shoulders slumped.
'You're right, Granger,' he muttered. 'Locicault's dead. I was too late.'
'You—' the physician hesitated, biting his lips in helplessness. 'You'll want to have an autopsy?'
'No, it's no use. I must watch the progress of the plague on a living being. A corpse is no good for my purposes. I must wait. . Perhaps the plague will strike again. I—I don't know.'
Court went to the window and looked out, his back to the others.
'Take precautions with the burial,' he said after a time speaking in a strange, tight voice. 'The contagion can still be spread. No one must touch him without lead-armor. You will cremate him, of course.'
Marion came across the room to stand beside him.
'You're not giving up, are you?' she whispered.
'No, but I'm at a dead end now. Every hour I delay may mean—'
The others had shuffled despondently out of the room.
'We're going back, then?' Marion asked.
'Yes. I'll take a few specimens from Locicault's body, but it s useless. I can't bring back life to a dead man. Damn him!' he snarled with sudden fury. 'Why did he have to die?'
Marion's lips trembled and she turned away. Court, after a brief hesitation, replaced the lead-glass helmet and went into the wing. He could, as a matter of routine, take samples of Locicault's blood and skin, though he knew that would do little good.
Court opened the door of Locicault's room and stopped abruptly, catching his breath. The blood drained from his cheeks. He reached out almost blindly.
'Sammy!' he whispered. 'Oh, my God, you fool!'
The old man stood motionless beside the bed. In the dimness his face could not be seen. His scant white hair was pale as silver.
'Hello, Stevie,' he said gently. 'Don't go off the handle, now. After all, I'm not so young any more, and you needed a case of this plague to experiment on. If it's as contagious as you say, I guess I sure enough got it by now.'
'Sammy,' Court whispered through dry lips. 'Why—'
He could not go on.
'Why?' The old man shrugged. 'I dunno. I told you about that plague down South, with women and kids dying like flies. I know what it's like. If I can help you save women and kids, Stevie, I figure I've done a pretty good job. So it's up to you now, boy. It's up to you.'
CHAPTER VIII
The Mystery of Dro-Ghir
Ardath was worried. As he sat immersed in thought, within the laboratory of the golden ship, he felt that he was little nearer to his goal. The barbaric hordes that overran the Earth in this new era promised little. Only in the far Eastern lands did the flame of civilization burn.
But would Ardath find a super-mentality' there? Would there be one he could take with him to a future age, to find a suitable mate? Or must he go on once more?
There was another matter, too. Neither Jansaiya nor Thordred had proved as intelligent as he had expected. At times Thordred was almost obtuse, despite his eagerness to learn new things. A flash of suspicion crossed Ardath's mind. Perhaps Thordred was pretending stupidity—
But why should he? Ardath, unused to guile and deceit, found the question difficult. He had saved Thordred's life, but humans were completely alien to Ardath. He had come from Kyria, a planet far across the Universe. He did not realize that humans sometimes mistrust and hate those greater than themselves, fearing power which, though benevolent, can also be used for evil. Besides, he knew that Thordred was ambitious, for the giant Earthman had conspired to win Zana's throne.
Ardath rose from his seat and pressed a lever. The veil of flickering light that barred the doorway died. He stepped across the threshold, and once more the barrier flamed with shimmering deadliness. He stood watching Thordred and Jansaiya as they sat near a vision screen, intent on the scene pictured there.
Thordred turned his vulture face, sensing Ardath's presence. 'There is nothing new, Master.'
Ardath smiled somewhat sadly and shook his head.
'How often must I tell you not to call me master? Because I have more knowledge than you, Thordred, does not mean that you are my slave. This eternal desire of Earthmen for enslavement…'
He shrugged bewilderedly and his thoughts went back to his home planet, Kyria, long since shattered into cosmic dust. Often he had dreamed of that world, which he had only seen on vision screens. Always he had awakened to this barbarous planet where men hated and fought and died for silly causes.
Truly the road of the ages was long.
Yet he knew there would be an end. Even here, in this Eastern land, the Kyrian had found a clue.
'Thordred,' he said slowly, 'and you, too, Jansaiya—I must leave you for awhile.'
Intent on his thoughts, Ardath did not notice the quick glow that brightened the others' eyes.
'There is a man here I must know, and a mystery I must solve,' he continued. 'Barbarous hordes have overrun this country, huge hairy giants from the North. They are little more than beasts, but at their head is a chieftain called Dro-Ghir. He puzzles me. His acts are wise. His brain seems highly developed, yet he is filled with the violent emotions of a savage. This is a paradox.'
Jansaiya's lovely eyes were narrowed. 'You must leave us, you said?'
Ardath nodded. 'Remain in the ship till I return. There is plenty of food, and no danger can touch you. I have only one warning— Do not attempt to enter the laboratory.' He smiled as a thought came to him. 'Though you know nothing of the apparatus there, yet you might harm yourselves.'
'We will obey,' Thordred grunted, his harsh face immobile.
Quickly Ardath made his preparations. As he opened the port, he turned. His gaze dwelt on Thordred, and there was a curiously mocking light in it.
'Farewell, for a time. I shall rejoin you soon.'
