Part 43 (2/2)

”It's the strain,” Boyd said. ”That's what it is, strain. You've cracked at last.”

Malone ignored him. ”Tell me,” he said to Dorothea with elaborate casualness, ”when your brother says that, what does he mean?”

”What?” she said. ”Oh, I don't know. I--” She stopped and her eyes widened. ”You don't think that--”

”I don't know,” Malone said. ”But we can sure as h.e.l.l find out.”

Dorothea blinked. ”What can you do?” she said. ”I mean, to find out.

You can't force them to drink or anything, can you?”

”No,” Malone said. ”I can't do that. But it does give me an idea.”

Boyd held his untasted drink in his hand, staring at Malone and the girl. ”What are you two talking about?” he said. ”Or is this the special Captain Midnight code? I left my code ring home this week.”

”Boyd,” Malone snapped, ”get on the phone.”

”Are you sure it will hold me?” Boyd said.

”I want you to call Dr. O'Connor at Yucca Flats,” Malone said. ”Shut up and listen.”

There was silence.

Finally Boyd said, ”I don't hear anything.”

”Never mind,” Malone said. ”I mean listen to me. I know it's pretty early out where O'Connor is, but that doesn't matter now. Wake him up.

Wake everybody up, for all I care.”

”Malone,” Boyd said carefully, ”are you sure you haven't gone nuts?”

Malone grinned cheerfully. ”No,” he said. ”Are you? Now listen: find out what effect drugs have on psionic abilities.”

”Drugs?” Boyd said, and then his eyes lit up. ”My G.o.d!” he said. ”We might have something, at that!”

”Get the Queen up too,” Malone said. ”Ask her the same question. I hope we do have something.”

”So do I,” Dorothea said.

”And if we get the information we're hoping to get, I want Her Majesty on the first plane to New York,” Malone said. ”I don't care what strings you have to pull to get that done. Call Burris if you have to.

It'll be worth it.” Malone paused. ”h.e.l.l,” he said, ”call him anyway and tell him what's happened. But get the Queen here!”

”Right!” Boyd said. He dove for the phone and started dialing.

Suddenly he looked around. ”Hey!” he yelled. ”Where are you going?”

Malone, one hand on the door, turned. ”Down to see Fernack,” he said.

”I've got to make some arrangements. I'm betting we're right, Tom!” He charged out the door, slamming it. A second pa.s.sed and it opened again. Malone's head popped back in. ”Dorothea,” he said. ”When Tom gets off the phone call your mother. Tell her you're going to be away for a day or two--two at the most--and she's not to worry. We'll need you, and her, too, to talk to Mike when the time comes. So stick around.”

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