Gordon R. Dickson (20 page)

"No,"
she shook her head slowly, rolling it from side to side.
"All
gone inside.
Don't."

"Wait here," said
Kil, trying to stand up. "I'll go get help."

"No.
No good." She held to him. "Stay with me, Kil . . . Kil?"

He sat back.

"I'm here."

"Doesn't . . . hurt. .
. ."

"Good. That's good,
Melee."

She
choked; and though she held her lips tightly, a little blood came through. She
made a protesting sound. Kil fumbled for a handkerchief and wiped her hps.

"Ugly,"
she said again. Tears stood suddenly in her eyes. "You never . . . want to
kiss me, now."

He bent his head and kissed
her lips.

"Oh
. . . Kil . . ." the tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks.
"Wipe . . ." she said. "Please . . ."

Kil
dried her eyes gently with
a
clean
section of the handkerchief.

"Hush," he said.
"Don't talk."

"Love you . . .
Kil. . . .
"

"Shh,"
he said. He kissed her again, and smoothed back the hair from her eyes. A
wetness 6n the hand he pressed against her back, holding her, drew his
attention. He lifted it up momentarily, looking at it over her shoulder. There
was blood on it. He put it back. "Hush," he said, again.
   
^v

"Never
liked . . . Mali much . . ." her face twisted with hurt for a second.
"Tried . . ." She was silent for a moment. "My brother . .
." But she did not finish.

Her
eyes closed. After a litde while they flew open suddenly.

"Kil—" she said. "Don't
go—"

"I'm not leaving," he said.
"Ill
stay
right here."

She
breathed out as if in relief and her eyes closed again. She did not say
anything more. After a while her mouth relaxed and a little more blood ran
out. Carefully he wiped it away and saw that she had stopped breathing. He
continued to sit there, holding her; and when the Police came at last and found
them, they took him without any trouble.

CHAPTER
SIXTEEN

The
Police psychiatrist tapped with his pen on
the surface of his desk. The small,' hard noise of it was sterile in the
silence of the office.

"Mr. Bruner," he said, "you're
resisting me."

"Why shouldn't I?" demanded Kil.

The
psychiatrist sighed and put down the pen and rubbed one hand wearily across his
eyes. With his face relaxed, he looked younger than he had, a lean young man
with hair receeding sharply from the temples. He put his hand back on the desk
and leaned forward again.

"We
do what we have to," he murmured, almost to himself. "Mr. Bruner,
were your physical relationships with your wife—"

"Go to hell!" said Kil.

The
psychiatrist nodded slowly and relaxed back into his chair.

"Yes,"
he said.
"Why not?
This isn't the kind of job I'm
supposed to do, anyhow." He got up briskly and suddenly, as if he had just
come to a decision. "Wait here," he said and went out.

Kil
waited. He had been in deadlock with the psychiatrist since the Police had
brought him here to Headquarters, four hours ago. A little more time would make
no difference.

The
psychiatrist did not come back. What did come were two Policemen who escorted
him to another office, a larger one this time. Inside, the psychiatrist waited
for him; and another man, a heavy, balding man in advanced middle age with a
thick, reddish complexion. Both men showed the bright eyes and flushed faces of
anger. Both were standing and they turned on Kil as he entered.

"Get
out," said the heavy man. The two Policemen left, closing the door behind
them. "So you're Bruner."

"Yes, said Kil.

"This
is Hagar Kai, Mr. Bruner," put in the psychiatrist, "present
six-month head of the Police."

"I'll
handle this!" said the Police head. "You don't seem to realize what
you're up against, Bruner. We've just caught you red-handed in conspiracy and
armed violation of the Peace. Do yoy know what that means? Do you?"

"No," replied
Kil.

He
looked at Hagar Kai. A strange thing was happening to him. Kai's anger, the
unjustness of the accusation, above all, everything he had been through that
day, now culminating in this, should by all the ingrained patterns of his
nature have evoked his furious resentment. It had always been that' way with
him.

But now there was nothing. Kil's emotions
lay
still and cold. He saw through the rage and bluster of
the Police head as through a clear pane of glass. The man was bluffing. What's
more he was making himself look ridiculous in the process.

"No,' I don't
know," said Kil.

"Well, you'll find out."

"Suppose," Kil said. "You tell
me what you want."

"Some
straight answers, that's what we want!" Hagar Kai thumped the desk before
him with his fist; and then, when Kil's expression did not change at this, let
the hand drop* limply at his side. "It's no use, Alben," he said,
turning to the psychiatrist. "He doesn't want to help himself."

The
psychiatrist said nothing. Hagar Kai turned back to Kil.

"I
wouldn't bother with you if it wasn't for the fact your friend with the gun,
and the hunchback, got away," he said, harshly. "As it is I'll give
you one more chance to tell us. Where's McElroy?"

Even
Kil's new self-control was not capable of taking this without staggering. He
stared at Hagar Kai.

"McElroy?" he
repeated.

The
Police Head stared at him apoplectically. "Don't you know?" said Kil,
foolishly. "Where is he?"

A
small light of understanding began to illuminate the murky confusion in Kil's
mind.

"So
McElroy
is
the Commissioner, after all," he said.
He shook his head at Hagar Kai. "How should I know where he is?"

Hagar
Kai threw up both hands in a gesture of exhausted patience and dropped heavily
into a chair behind the desk.

"I
still suggest," the psychiatrist said, "that you try explaining to
him,
first."

"All right.
All
right!"
Hagar Kai rested his arms on the desk and
glared up at Kil.
"Although he knows more about it than
I do.
Here it is, Bruner. We know you were working with McElroy—"

"What?"

"Now,
don't bother to deny that. He put you on the payroll of his section when you
came to see him about your wife. I say, we know you were working for him. He
was engaged on a special case and thought you might help. Now—"

"What case?"

"You
know as well as I dol" snarled Hagar Kai. Kil looked narrowly at him.

"Not—" he said,
"the Project?"

"Damn
it, Alben!" exploded the Police head, swinging around upon the psychiatrist.
"I told you he knows all about everything!"

"If he doesn't, he's learning
fast," retorted the psychiatrist, drily. "With your help*

Caught
short, Hagar Kai checked
himself
and threw a startled
glance at Kil. He turned back to the attack.

"What do you know
about the Project?"

"I've heard about
it," said Kil.

"And what else have
you heard about?"

"Sub-E," said Kil, "the Societies, the O.T.L."
He paused.
"The
Commissioner."

"There!"
cried the Police head. "You admit knowing about McElroy."

"I
don't know anything about McElroy!" retorted Kil. "I just happened to
hear that he was known as the Commissioner. And while we're at it, as a
citizen I'd like to know why you, as the responsible man in the Police, have
been letting someone else without legal authority take over part of your
powers."

"The
Police was set up in a way that kept its hands tied," replied Kai,
harshly. "We're all held down to six months in one post, too. Besides
there's the restriction that no one man can hold the post I'm in more than once
in his lifetime: You can't run an organization under those conditions." He
stopped suddenly, staring at Kil. "What do you mean
as
a
citizen?
You're
under arrest. You haven't any citizenship rights."

"Now, hold on,
Kai—" began the psychiatrist.

"Shut
up, Alben. It's my responsibility and my authority. Well, Bruner, do you want
to go on with this farce of pre--tending there's things I can tell you about
this situation?"

"Please," said Kil, grimly.

"All right.
I'll make it short and sweet. McElroy left
his office here to work with you. All we got from him were messages, the last
of which was to pick you up for a security check. You know the results of
that.
Now we've got information that the Societies are planning a
revolution—and we've lost contact with McElroy. He doesn't check with us, and
we've no way of locating him. Maybe, even, he's sold us out to the Societies.
We won't know until we find him. And the quickest way to find him is have you
tell us where he is."

"I tell you," said Kil, "I don't
know. From that first day when I spoke to him here, I've'never seen him
again."

"You're
a liar. But you're going to tell us the truth." Kai leaned forward and his
eyes glittered. "The world is ready to blow up and if you think I'm going
to let due process of law stand in my way at this late hour, you're badly
mistaken. There's ways to get information out of men like you and here at
Headquarters is as good a place as any to put them to use. You had your chance.
Now I'll do it my way. I'm going to have you—"

"All
right, Kai!" broke in the psychiatrist, suddenly. "That's enough. If
you're planning anything like that for this man, you should've left me out of
the room where I couldn't hear it. I can't let you do this.'

Hagar Kai swung on the
other like
a
cornered bull.

"Can't?"

"Won't."
The psychiatrist's face was pale except for two spots of burning color
on his lean cheeks. "If yoxi're going to make this man disappear while you
work information out of him, you're going to have to make me disappear, too—and
I'll leave it up to you to take on the Psychiatric Association when I don't
show up at home for dinner tonight."

They locked eyes.

"Alben, you young fool," said Kai,
hoarsely. "I knew your father. I've known you for thirty years. I—"

The
psychiatrist said nothing. He stood immovable, his eyes unwavering and
uncompromising.

The Police head slumped into his chair.

There was silence in the office. Finally,
after
a
long minute, the manhamed Alben spoke.

"Sorry, Kai," he said. "But I
think he's telling the truth. And even if he
is isn't
—
there's no exception to justice."

"Go on, get out of here, both of
you," said Kai. "No, wait—" he raised his head and gazed
burningly at Kil, "not you. If I can't go outside the law, I can at least
give you all the law allows. Did you ever hear of Class Four?"

"Class Four?" echoed Kil.
"Unstab
Class Four?"

"Yes."

Kil shook his head. "No.
There's
only three classes, Stab, or Unstab."