Part 25 (2/2)

Very quietly, Marian said, ”We really dislike to use reorientation on people. It changes them so--”

”But that's what I'm headed for, isn't it?” I demanded flatly.

”I'm sorry, Steve.”

Angrily I went on, not caring that I'd finally caught on and by doing so had sealed my own package. ”So after I have my mind ironed out smoothly, I'll still go on and on from pillar to post providing newly inoculated Mekstroms for your follow-up squad.”

She looked up at me and there were tears in her eyes. ”We were all hoping--” she started.

”Were you?” I asked roughly. ”Were you all working to innoculate me at Homestead, or were you really studying me to find out what made me a carrier instead of a victim?”

”Both, Steve,” she said, and there was a ring of honesty in her tone. I had to believe her, it made sense.

”Dismal prospect, isn't it?” I asked. ”For a guy that's done nothing wrong.”

”We're all sorry.”

”Look,” I said with a sudden thought, ”Why can't I still go on? I could start a way station of some sort, on some pretext, and go on innoculating the public as they come past. Then I could go on working for you and still keep my right mind.”

She shook her head. ”Scholar Phelps knows,” she said. ”Above all things we must keep you out of his hands. He'd use you for his own purpose.”

I grunted sourly. ”He has already and he will again,” I told her. ”Not only that, but Phelps has had plenty of chance to collect me on or off the hook. So what you fear does not make sense.”

”It does now,” she told me seriously. ”So long as you did not suspect your own part in the picture, you could do more good for Phelps by running free. Now you know and Phelps' careful herding of your motions won't work.”

”Don't get it.”

”Watch,” she said with a shrug. ”They'll try. I don't dare experiment, Steve, or I'd leave you right now. You'd find out very shortly that you're with me because I got here first.”

”And knowing the score makes me also dangerous to your Highways? Likely to bring 'em out of Hiding?”

”Yes.”

”So now that I've dumped over the old apple cart, I can a.s.sume that you're here to take me in.”

”What else can I do, Steve?” she said unhappily.

I couldn't answer that. I just sat there looking at her and trying to remember that her shapely one hundred and eighteen pounds were steel hard and monster strong and that she could probably carry me under one arm all the way to Homestead without breathing hard. I couldn't cut and run; she could outrun me. I couldn't slug her on the jaw and get away; I'd break my hand. The Bonanza .375 would probably stun her, but I have not the cold blooded viciousness to pull a gun on a woman and drill her.

I grunted sourly, that weapon had been about as useful to me as a stuffed bear or an authentic Egyptian Obelisk.

”Well, I'm not going,” I said stubbornly.

She looked at me in surprise. ”What are you going to do?” she asked me.

I felt a glow of self-confidence. If I could not run loose with guilty knowledge of my being a Mekstrom Carrier, it was equally impossible for anybody to kidnap me and carry me across the country. I'd radiate like mad; I'd complain about the situation at every crossroad, at every filling station, before every farmer. I'd complain mentally and bitterly, and sooner or later someone would get suspicious.

”Don't think like an idiot,” she told me sharply. ”You drove across the country before, remember? How many people did you convince?”

”I wasn't trying, then--”

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