Hyacinth Hyatt Johnson. That would have made it the Johnson Lens.”
“Yes,” Egarn said weakly. “Yes. That explains everything. What did you do with the plans?”
“I put a bookcase on top of them and bags of cement on top of the bookcase to keep them from being snatched. I wanted to talk with you before I did anything else. While we were waiting to hear from you, an army of characters in what look like black capes has been forming outside. The police say it has the whole neighborhood surrounded.”
“The plans must be destroyed,” Egarn said excitedly. “The plans and the lens. Completely. Utterly. But if you do that, the Lantiff may destroy the house and everyone in it. They are ruthless. Their minds are damaged the way DuRosche’s was— less severely but enough to burn away all of their humane impulses.”
“If they have weapons like Arne’s, they can cut this house to pieces any time they feel like it and us with it,” Brock said.
“No. They won’t dare. If they did that, they might destroy the plans. As long as you have the plans and lens intact, you are safe. But once they get their hands on them—”
“I understand. They don’t really want them. They just want them preserved so future history won’t be altered. If someone else took them and patented them, it wouldn’t be a Honsun Len, it might be a Smith Len or a Miller Len, but that wouldn’t significantly alter the future. But wait—if we destroy the plans and the lenses, then no one can patent the lens, and future history will be fractured. They will no longer exist—or will they?”
“I don’t know,” Egarn said soberly. “You see—even if you destroy the future, they are already in the present. Changing the future may not have any effect at all on the ones already here. How many are there?”
“I haven’t any idea. They are mostly concealed in the shrubbery at the edge of the estate. From what the police told me, there could be several hundred about.”
“The Peer of Lant can send an army if she wants to,” Egarn gasped. “If you destroy the plans, the Lantiff will run wild. They could devastate the entire city—maybe even the entire state.”
“I understand. I saw Arne demonstrate the weapon. So what do you suggest?”
“I don’t know,” Egarn said. “It is a terrible decision to force on you. The len has killed millions and billions already—will kill them. I feel tired and sick, and I am having trouble thinking. I just can’t—”
The voice faded away. A moment later, Colonel Lobert spoke. “I’m afraid the old fellow’s dying. He looks extremely bad. His breathing is fast and shallow, and his heart is racing. He wanted to talk with Arne, but I don’t think he is able to. If the doctor doesn’t get here quickly—did you get what you wanted?”
“No,” Brock said, “but I’m afraid I got all I am going to get.”
“If he improves, I’ll call you again.”
Brock hung up and found Alida at his elbow. She said brightly, “Don’t worry. There are twenty or thirty students on the way. If those thugs try to rush the house, they will get a surprise.”
“You are much too late,” Brock protested. “We will soon be cut off if we aren’t already. The students won’t be able to get through to us.”
“Yes, they will—if they come quickly, they will. There is a back way through the adjoining property. Mr. Kernley has gone to meet them.”
“But this is terrible!” Brock exclaimed. “Here I am trying to find a way to get people out of here safely, and you are bringing in twenty or thirty more! I suppose it is too late to tell them to stay away.”
“Much too late,” Alida said. “They are already on their way. Don’t worry about getting us out of here. All of us are staying. So are the maids and the nurse.”
Mrs. Kernley, who was standing at the front door, called, “Professor—there is someone coming!”
Brock went to the door. A shadowy figure was strolling nonchalantly up the drive. Every few strides, the gusting breeze tugged at his black cape. He looked formidable. He looked like the Prince of Darkness calmly arriving to take over his property.
But when he stepped into the light that touched the area around the front door, he resolved into a thin, pasty-faced youth.
He said, “Marcus Brock, please.”
Brock was astonished. Then he remembered that Roszt and Kaynor had spoken English well enough to get by. This youth was an emissary from the future’s darker side.
“I am Marcus Brock,” he said. “Who are you?”
“I am Gevis.”
“You are trespassing, Gevis. This is private property, and you are here without permission. Do you have an errand?”
“You give plans,” Gevis said. “We go away. No one hurt.”
“If you don’t go away, we will burn the plans. Do you understand?”
“Bad for you,” Gevis said. “We burn house, people dead.”
“Bad for you,” Brock said. “The place you came from, and everyone who is there, will go ‘poof!’ and be gone forever. Can you understand that?”
Gevis seemed to be struggling for words.
Suddenly a voice rang out. “Gevis!”
Gevis winced and turned quickly. Even in the dim light, he suddenly looked frightened.
Arne strode up to him and spoke. Gevis raised his hands as though warding off blows, but the only violence done to him was with words, spoken softly but with unmistakable venom. Finally Gevis turned and staggered back down the drive like a man fleeing from a beating. He vanished into the shrubbery. Arne turned indifferently and faded back into the shadows. Brock had no doubt that a brief but bitter drama had been enacted, but he couldn’t begin to guess what it signified.
The end of the drive was faintly touched by the DuRosche Court streetlight, and as Brock stared in that direction, a black-cloaked figure appeared out of nowhere. It stepped aside, and another followed it. And another. And another. Negotiations had failed, and the Peer of Lant was sending her army.
24. ARNE AND DELINE
Bob slammed down the telephone receiver and leaped to the door of his apartment. Outside, he faced the building and sounded three piercing whistles. Heads appeared in windows.
“Jeff and Alida need help!” he shouted. “They’re being threatened by thugs from outer space. It’s dangerous. Who’s with me?”
Shouts came back. “I am!”
“Right on!”
“Wait for me!”
Students, male and female, began to pour from the building.
Within minutes the convoy was underway. Connie, riding with Bob, asked as they made a screeching turn onto Mt. Hope Avenue, “What sort of danger?”
“No idea,” Bob said.
“Just what did you mean—’thugs from outer space?’”
“No idea about that, either. It seemed to fit what Alida told me.”
“What are we supposed to do—scratch them to death? I wouldn’t have trimmed my fingernails last night if I’d known.”
“Good point. I’ve been thinking about that myself. There is no quick way to get our hands on some guns, but anything at all would be better than nothing at all. I’ve been trying to remember where I saw that sign.”
They rocketed along for two more blocks before he remembered. He took a corner on two wheels with the convoy following. He backtracked several blocks, turned again, and eventually swerved into the parking lot beside a long block of stores. As he came to a stop, the second carload of students pulled in beside him. The others arrived and took vacant spaces.
The block of stores was only one store, a hardware and building supply business that had grown to occupy the available space. A sign in the front window advertised a fire extinguisher sale. “Better than nothing at all,” Bob said cheerfully.
