Shadow of a Broken Man

'I'm not sure he did,' I said. 'My guess is that he called in a colleague without telling your husband. That person's name is Mary Llewellyn, and she was the source of the first leak.' I watched Lippitt stiffen slightly and I knew I was right. 'I think Dr. Llewellyn felt it was her patriotic duty to inform someone that there was a man who would make a formidable agent-really an incredible intelligence-gathering machine. Dr. Llewellyn saw the implications from the beginning: Give Rafferty a change of appearance, send him into the diplomatic corps; he goes to a Washington cocktail party, chats with some visiting Russian general, and walks out with more strategic military information than a team of C.I.A. agents could gather in a year. The Ultimate Weapon. The only problem was that there was only one of him, and he couldn't be duplicated.'

Elizabeth Foster nodded her head in agreement. 'Victor once gave me a demonstration,' she said thickly. 'He asked me to think of a series of numbers. I did and he… rattled them off as soon as they popped into my head. Then he started on my other thoughts. He wouldn't stop; he kept on and on, telling me everything that I was thinking! You can't imagine how that feels! I had to scream to make him stop. I… oh, God, I called him a monster.'

Mary Llewellyn, I recalled, had called him the same thing. She had thought it perfectly reasonable that this monster, Victor Rafferty, give himself up to service in the government for the rest of his life. I was beginning to understand the dimensions and horror of Victor Rafferty's situation: A builder, an architect, Victor Rafferty had suddenly, through a quirk of nature, found himself alone, trapped in a lonely city of the mind, with no one to understand, much less keep him company. He was alone, listening to the baying in the darkness beyond the city's outermost limits.

'I… I hurt him so much,' Mrs. Foster continued. 'It crushed him when I said that; I'll never forget the look on his face. That was precisely what he'd been so afraid of: He didn't want people to think of him as a… freak.'

Or a weapon, I thought.

'Victor never understood,' she said, slowly turning to look at all of us. 'He never could understand why other people couldn't appreciate what things he might be able to do in medicine, psychiatry… even criminal law.' She started to laugh and it came out a wracking sob. 'You wouldn't have to ask a person where it hurt; Victor would know. He'd have been able to diagnose symptoms that patients might not have been able to fully articulate. In trials, he would know who was guilty, and-more important- who wasn't. He believed scientists could study him in a laboratory and learn more about mankind; maybe, through him, others could have learned how to do the things he did. But of course, they wouldn't let him do that kind of work.'

Lippitt winced, as if he could feel the woman's pointing finger jabbing into him. 'It couldn't be helped, Mrs. Foster,' Lippitt said softly. 'When Dr. Llewellyn contacted us, she used lines of communication that are routinely monitored by foreign agents. They found out about Victor Rafferty virtually the same time as we did. It became a race against time. We wanted your husband to work for us, yes; in fact, it was imperative that he do so. A less free society, if they'd caught him, would have been able to force him to work for them. We couldn't allow that.'

I glanced at Tal, who appeared to be deep in thought.

He was sitting in a straight-backed chair, staring at the floor and rolling a pencil between his palms.

'One morning, Mr. Lippitt came to our door,' the woman continued in an icy voice. 'He wanted to talk to Victor. Victor made me leave, but I know what they talked about. Mr. Lippitt gave Victor an ultimatum: Victor would have to work for the United States Government, and we would have to be relocated. Both Victor and I would have to undergo plastic surgery. No one-not family or friends- would ever see us again. We would be required to live like virtual prisoners for the rest of our lives while Victor did … whatever was expected of him.'

'There are prisons, and there are prisons,' Lippitt said. 'Some are a good deal worse than others.'

Elizabeth Foster wasn't really listening to anything Lippitt had to say. 'Victor knew what was in Mr. Lippitt's mind,' she continued, taking a deep breath and drawing her shoulders back. 'He knew others would be coming for him, so he decided to run. He told me he'd find a safe place and then send for me. After all, we had plenty of money in the bank. Victor planned to use the money to buy new identities, new lives somewhere where they couldn't find us.

'He left the house. There were two men waiting for him. I saw what happened, but I still don't understand it.' She wrapped her arms around her body as she shuddered. 'I was standing on the stoop when one of the men jumped out at him. Victor swung his suitcase at the man, but Victor was still very weak from the operations; he didn't really have much strength to begin with, and the other man was so big. The man ducked around behind Victor and grabbed Victor's arm. Victor was struggling to get away, and then … the man just seemed to go down. His knees buckled and he fell to the sidewalk. He was holding his head and moaning, as if he were in pain, and then… he just lay still. Then another man came running at Victor. I thought Victor was going to be killed, so I ran inside and called the police.

When I came back out, both men were lying on the sidewalk and Victor was gone. I started to scream again. . I couldn't stop screaming.'

Elizabeth Foster's voice trailed off, and there was silence in the room. I didn't think she would speak again, but she did.

'I knew I'd never see him again,' she whispered. 'And I didn't.' She blinked back tears. 'Two days later Mr. Lippitt called and told me Victor had been killed. The day after that, I saw a report in the newspaper that Victor had died in an accident in his laboratory. Now the Russians say they've talked to him on the phone. I just don't understand how that can be.'

She looked at Lippitt, who stared back at her for a few moments, then glanced quickly away.

Tal spoke quietly to Mrs. Foster. 'Do you have any idea how your first husband managed to escape from the two men?'

The woman shook her head.

It was Lippitt who answered. 'He killed one and he knocked the other unconscious,' Lippitt said into the stillness. He paused, then added: 'And he did it with his mind. Victor Rafferty could kill with his mind.'

Tal gestured impatiently. 'That's insane.'

'Nevertheless, it's true,' Lippitt replied calmly. 'You see, Victor Rafferty could do much more than just 'read minds.' He discovered through a series of accidents that his mental powers were growing. First, he found out he could kill by willing it when he was attacked by my men. I don't believe Rafferty meant to kill, but he panicked; he saw himself being captured. He literally reached out with his mind into the other man's brain. I don't know what he did there, or how he did it-an autopsy showed that my man died of a massive cerebral hemorrhage. But Rafferty knew, because he was able to control it within the space of a few seconds; remember that the second man was only knocked unconscious. Can you see the implications of this power, Dr. Frederickson?'

'Assassination,' I said quickly. 'The same general or diplomat Rafferty leached his information from could suddenly die of a cerebral hemorrhage.'

'Without anyone having laid a hand on him,' Lippitt said tightly. 'It wouldn't have to be a general; it could be a president, a vice president, a cabinet member. Victor Rafferty would be able to kill anyone he could get close to, and never be caught.'

20

'He wouldn't have!' Elizabeth Foster cried, violently shaking her head from side to side. 'You know what he did to the first man was an accident! He didn't know what he was doing!'

'But he had the capability,' Lippitt said. 'That's the whole point. It was conceivable that he could have been forced to use his powers against us. If they had you, Mrs. Foster, they would control him. That's what the exercise of the last few hours was all about. For as long as he lived, Victor Rafferty could conceivably be forced to spy and kill for whoever controlled him, and no nation but the one he was working for would have a military secret left. Can you understand our position now, Mrs. Foster?'

Elizabeth Foster continued to shake her head, but her eyes betrayed her: She did understand, perhaps for the first time.