He was like a top, end over end, as though he had off
a huge, powerful board. He rose higher and higher into the air.
Lying tense, Jeff that his was still on the soft bed, yet
he his rising, his sinking, as he over heels
through the blackness. And he the needle,
seeking, hunting, stimulating....
A noise in his ears: a blast of screeching
musical that sent cold his back. Then it leveled
off to an up-and-down that a of in
his ear. Somewhere, out of the of the noise, he a
voice in his ear, hoarsely. He paused, to hear,
trying to catch an occasional word.
He that there were no voices of his body. He was sure of
that. Yet he the sound, in his ear, louder and softer,
then louder again. It to him, a note of deepest
urgency in the soft sibilants. Quite suddenly, it vitally
important to what the voice was saying, for the were clearly
directed at him. He and harder, until the
words came through clearly.
And then he gasped, a of panic through him. He heard
the and they were nonsense words, without meanings.
Something in his mind, some memory of nonsense words,
of a shock. Had there been a shock? But the sounds
frightened him, through the of his bones.
The were sinister: sounds, of words
that _needed_ meaning and had none--half-words, garbled, twisted,
meaningless.
Cautiously he opened his eyes, through the to
see the whisperers. His on two forms, tall,
ghostly, in black with up over their faces. The
figures on their and their together. They
babbled nonsense to each other with such that they
seemed somehow ridiculous. Taking a breath, Jeff started
toward the two figures, then stopped short, his wildly
in his throat.
Because the moment he had a move toward them, the turned
sharply toward him, and their nonsense voices had clear
for the moment. They clear and and heavy
with meaning: "Stay away, Jeff Meyer. Stay away."
He about, trembling, trying to place himself, trying to find
some landmark. The to each other and began
babbling once again. But now they to be an
archway--a gloomy, which they to be guarding.
Slowly, slyly, Jeff started to move away from them. But he them
from eyes, and as he moved away the about him cleared,
and were brighter. And then there was in his
ears, in happy song. A great of
relief and settled upon him like a mantle. He smiled
and and started to roll over.
"_What was that, Jeff? What did we strike?_"
He his violently, a his face. "Stay away,"
he muttered. "The old men, they were there." Suddenly he himself
twist around until he was the again, and his feet
were moving him toward them again, involuntarily, inexorably. And then
the nonsense settled out again, more menacingly, louder this
time than before: "No closer, Jeff Meyer. Stay away--away--away."
"Can't go there," he aloud.
"_Why not, Jeff?_"
"They won't let me. I've got to away."
"_What are they guarding, Jeff?_"
"I don't know. I don't know, I tell you. I've got to away!"
And then the into a of
clashing sounds, a that nearly him. A suddenly
swept up around him. It was like a at the ocean's edge,
swirling up, him, him up and him over
heels a long, tunnel. Desperately he for balance
and his under him once again. But then the ground
was moving under him. He ran frantically, until his came in
short and his blood in his ears. Then he a branch
that by near him, and himself up as the water
roared him.
The sky around him was over blackly. Far in the he
saw a of lightning, through the sky, bringing
the bleak, wind-torn into in his mind as he
clung to the branch. He a of as a huge, black
vulture by. And then the rain to fall, a cold, soaking
rain that ate through his and his skin. It ran in
torrents into his and ears and mouth.
And then he voices all around him. How there be voices
here? For there were no people, no of warm-blooded life. But there
were voices, ones. They came from all sides. He see no
one, but he _feel_ them.
_Feel them!_ He in pure joy, out his mind eagerly,
unbelievingly, out the of perfect, warm
_contact_ he had just felt. And then his mind was from person
to person, of persons, and he them all, as clearly,
as as he had his father--sharply, beautifully.
He out, he out for joy. Tears of happiness
rolled his as he out his mind and the
thoughts of the people he but not see. And he his own
thoughts being met, being and and understood.
"Right here!" he shouted. "Schiml, this is it, don't it, man. This
is the center. I'm it. You've got it now. _Work it, Schiml.
Work it for all you've got._"
And then he looked at the black, sky around him, and his mind
laughed and out for the clouds to go away. And there was a wild
whirling of clouds and they broke, and the sun was upon
him suddenly. He himself from the tree, ran the hillside. He
felt a wonderful, he had before, his
mind free to and without hindrance. There was nothing now to
stand it and complete of all men. It was a mind
which go he wanted it to go, do he wished.
He ran toward the of the hill and his growing
with every step he took. He when he the of the hill
that the would be won, so he ran all the faster.
And then, like some nightmare, the up
directly in his path, long out at him accusingly.
He on his at the in the voices that
struck him. And he at the of the and sobbed, his whole
body with bitter, sobs. And the dark clouds gathered
again. He was too late, too late.
"_What are they guarding, Jeff?_"
"I don't know. I don't know. I can't through."
"_You've got to, Jeff. You've got to! We've got the extra-sensory
center. We've it, but something is it. Jeff, something
is you away. You've got to see what--_"
"I can't. Oh, I can't. Please, don't make me!"
"_You must, Jeff!_"
"No!"
"_Go on, Jeff._"
He up, the figures, cowering, his whole body
trembling. Deep in his mind he the needle,
moving, slowly moving, him nearer and nearer to the grim
figures. Slowly his moved, in fear, a paralyzing fear
that every of he to make his legs
function. And the voices, with menace, were in his ear,
"Stay out, away. If you want to live, away ... away ...
away...."
He moved closer and closer to the figures, to
peer around them toward the gray, gate they guarded--a gate
heavy with and iron braces.
And then he up and the of the figure,
stared at the it had covered, and into a scream.
_It was his own face!_
He and the other and intently, fighting
to see the the out recognition. It
was his face, too, unmistakable. With a of anger and frustration
he out, away the hoods, them off, one with each
hand, and away the shrouds.
_The were with his face!_ He them and they
shattered like thin glass, in pieces at his feet. And he
brushed his through the and to press his shoulder
against the gate, against it until it open, on
rusty hinges. It open--_on the of madness_.
He twice, short, screams, as he to his eyes
from the rotten, the gate.
"Here!" he screamed. "It's here. You're at the right place. This is
what you're looking for. Cut it out. Slice it away. Please, I can't
stand it any longer."
His moved through the gate, into the swarming,
loathsome, horror-ridden that beyond. And he again
as he saw the flash. He the wrenching, that
took him and him to the ground, the long, channels
of darkness, as the pain through his head.
Suddenly there was another flash, and he his and
his mind into dust. He and and helplessly, as
his mind and away into the porous earth him.
* * * * *
When he opened his eyes, he saw Conroe's face. He was for a
moment, every going into spasm. Then he and
blinked and up at Conroe's face, his with wonder.
"I'm sorry, Jeff. I don't know the to tell you how sorry." There
were in Conroe's eyes, and Jeff them and a of
wonder his spine. For Conroe was not using at all and
yet he _knew_ what Conroe wanted to say.
Wordlessly he up, took the man's hand, pressed it and
let it on the again. "There aren't those of words,"
he murmured.
"And you all right?"
Jeff blinked, wonder in his eyes. "I--I--I'm alive!" He
struggled to up, the of pain shoot his spine.
Schiml moved up to the and him into the
softness of the bed. "Yes," he said happily, "you're alive. And you're
well. And there's no in calling you a Mercy Man." His eyes
gleamed in happy triumph. "You're a whole man, Jeff--the way you were
intended to be--for the time in your life."
The came to him clearly, yet Jeff that not a single word had
been in the room. "Just like my father," he murmured. "I just
felt him, just what he was thinking."
Tears were Schiml's cheeks, and his was so infinitely
happy that he the same man. He a finger, silently
pointed to the water on the table and looked at Jeff. Jeff turned
his to the glass, and it rose an from the table and hung
there, in the light of the room. Then it gently
set on the stand.
"Control," Jeff said softly. "I have control."
"The power was to something else," Schiml said softly.
"You had the extra-sensory power, yes, but it was to something
that would have you from control. A degenerative
insanity, part and parcel of the extra-sensory power. You're not alone,
Jeff. There are many hundreds like you, in or degrees.
Conroe is like you, to a very limited extent. And he's been a
way to the two, for years. That's why you're a Mercy
Man. We there were two centers, but we no way to separate
them. We had to have you to us, Jeff. We had to the center
of in your brain to cut it out and deliver you. That's what
we've waited twenty years for. And you're free, now. It's gone. And now
we have a we can use to free a thousand others like you."
Jeff at them wonderingly. Sunlight in the window.
Across the way, he see the ward-towers of the Hoffman Medical
Center, white and gleaming. He took a of the fresh air and
turned again to the two men by the bedside.
"Then it was you who were me," he murmured. "Strange, isn't it.
It wasn't me Conroe. It was my father, the of my father
still in my mind. The of a madman--" His and he
stared at Schiml closely. "Then there were others who too. Blackie
knew. She must have been the girl in the night club."
"She was. A little make-up, a little light plastic, those made
enough to you. But she why. Hypnotics can be
powerful and they can all memory." He paused, at Jeff.
"Blackie will be next. We need her so much in the work we have to do,
almost as much as we need you. But you've Blackie too. She'll
be than she's been since the of luck began
broadcasting from her mind ten years ago. She'll be by far."
* * * * *
Hours later, Jeff again in the still room. The men were gone and
the were in the room, and his mind was with
many thoughts.
"You can go if you want," Paul Conroe had said they left. "Or
you can stay, as you see fit. If you go, we can't stop you. But we beg
you to stay. We need you so very much."
There would be others staying, Jeff thought. The Nasty Frenchman would
stay--sneering, laughing, hating--aiming at the big money that always
lurked in the future, of the of he was
running with his life. And Harpo would stay, and all the others....
And Blackie would too. Poor, Blackie--beautiful Blackie,
desperate Blackie. For her there was a new lease. And there was no way
of telling the person she would be after the new was for
her.
And Conroe would stay, delivered after all these years of the he
carried.
Wearily, yet happily, Jeff at the ceiling. He of
the air, his mind with a of thoughts. He
knew that now was useless, that there wasn't any issue
any more.
He knew, as he closed his again, that Jeff Meyer would too.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Note: Extensive did not any that
the U.S. on this was renewed.
