EIGHTEEN
Kirk turned back to Mrs. Jackson and fell to his knees before her. He lay his head on her lap and moaned.
“Please, Mrs. Jackson. Please,” as if she could release him from his dilemma. After some moments he felt her move slightly. When he looked up into her face, it
was no longer fused with terror. Her eyes were calm and although tightly bound, she nodded to him as best she could. Parker helped Kirk to rise and the scientist barely noticed his touch.
“Look Kirk, she’s an old woman and can’t live much longer. You must see her death has little meaning, whereas Sharon’s life has great value. Kill her!” He commanded.
Although Kirk was shaken by the ominous order, he slowly began to raise the revolver. Slowly--slowly...until it was pointed at the old woman’s head. He no longer seemed to have control over his actions. Mrs. Jackson looked serene, as if waiting for some profound event.
Kirk’s hand was trembling violently until he heard a noise from the screen and saw the garrote slowly tightening around Sharon’s throat. A strangled voice came from the screen.
“Kirk, help me! Please help me!’’
“Kill her!” demanded the Primagnon in a vicious whisper.”
Had Kirk looked at the Primagnon, he would have seen the Leader’s forehead
was covered with perspiration.
Kirk turned away from Mrs. Jackson's calm old eyes and closed his own. He had to clench his teeth to keep them from chattering.
“That’s it.” Parker told him. “Now, just a little to the right. “Good, that’s perfect. Now Squeeze the trigger!”
There was a deafening report as the high caliber pistol fired. Kirk wasn’t even aware he’d pulled the trigger. The sound of the shot froze him and he kept his eyes tightly closed. From far away he heard the voice of the Primagnon.
“Oh, Kirk, now see what you’ve done.”
Unnoticed, the gun had fallen to the floor, Drawn by the Primagnon’s voice and the horror of the crime, Kirk turned slowly and looked down at the inert form in the chair.
“See what you’ve done?” the Primagnon repeated.
Then Parker did something which at first seemed abhorrent to the younger man. The Primagnon Parker started to pull at the face of the old lady. First he plucked at the nose. Then at the ear. He pulled and tore at the face. It appeared a stupid, senseless thing to do. Then Kirk began to see the reason behind the Leader’s strange actions and they were more terrible that the murder itself.
First the white wooly hair was torn away. Dark, silky tresses spilled forth. White skin began to appear under the black, as the Primagnon slowly, tantalizingly stripped away the face of the old black lady and revealed the death-white face of--Sharon!
Kirk froze where he stood. The blood drained from his face as the hideous reality sank into his heart--the gruesome truth. He’d just murdered the one person he care for most in the world. He’d killed his own wife.
When he realized how Parker had tricked him, the coldness left Kirk to be replaced by the white heat of terrible rage. Before the others in the room could stop him, Kirk fell screaming onto the kneeling Primagnon. He grabbed and shook the Leader by the throat. As the fury which had been building throughout the long evening overtook him, all the power concentrated in his hands as they tightened around the Leader’s windpipe.
“You monster! You miserable monster!” Kirk screamed as he tightened his grip. Through tears of fury and pain, Kirk could see the Primagnon's eyes bulge as if they might pop form his head.
Parker struggled to free himself. What had only been seconds seemed to drag on for long minutes. Suddenly Kirk went limp and fell forward on top of the Leader as one of the guards fired a tranquilizing jolt into him. He was knocked completely unconscious.
The guards helped their gasping Leader extricate himself from the tangle of Kirk’s arms and legs. He hand went to his throat and for a moment he struggled to regain his breath.
“Are you all right, sir?” one of them asked.
“Yes, I think so.” gasped the Leader. “I knew our young friend was a strong, healthy specimen, but never dreamed he possessed such power.” Parker looked down at the unconscious physicist. Good, Kirk,Good! he thought to himself. With anger, comes courage. To the guards he said.
“You may take him back to the others now.
The guards lifted the physicist gently onto a gurney and wheeled him from the room. The primagnon stood alone massaging his bruised throat as he tried to regain his composure. From behind him on the screen, Sharon’s image was still speaking but with the repetition of a cracked record.
“Kirk, please help me!” (click) “Kirk, Please help me! (click)
The Leader pressed a button and the screen went black. He turned toward the inert, bound figure in the chair.
“An excellent performance my dear. Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, thank you, sir. But he seems to have caused you some damage.” Sharon said with concern.
“It will pass in a moment. We Primagnons have extraordinary recuperative powers. Here, let me help you Shana,” The Primagnon moved forward to help her untie her bonds.
She rubbed her wrists for a moment before speaking.
“Sir, when will you know the outcome?”
“Of Kirk’s test results? They should be completed in a few moments.” He wore a strained expression. “I’m afraid however -- Well, let’s wait and see.”
He went behind the desk and sat down, hesitating a moment before pressing a button marked Computer Room. A voice sprang from the speaker next to him.
“Yes, sir,” it asked.
“The final read-out on Dr. Kirkland Miller, please.”
“Same as the first analysis, sir.”
“The L factor still negative?” the Primagnon asked with a sigh.
“I’m afraid so, sir?
“No chance for error?
“Sorry, sir,’
“Then we’ve wasted our time.”
“It’s too bad, sir, he was an ideal candidate.”
The Primagnon paused for a moment. He was visibly shaken by the news. Then he took a deep breath and spoke.
“Yes, too bad. You’ll arrange it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Please call Donovan at the Bay Project,” Parker added “Ask him for a token gesture. He’ll understand.”
“Yes sir,”
“Thank you, that will be all for now.”
Parker pushed the button again, got up and moved to stand beside Sharon.
“I’m sorry, My dear. It’s as I predicted.” He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “i’m afraid Kirk is lost to us.”
They stood together for a few moments without speaking. Almost as if observing a moment of silent prayer for a departed friend.
Far away, behind the deep blackness Kirk began to hear faint noises. Familiar sounds were dragging him back -- tugging at his consciousness. As the sounds grew more distinct he began to recognize them as voices calling his name. It was like moving down a dark hall with a light showing faintly at the end. The hall was shrouded in fog so the light was diffused. Sounds reverberated inside his brain. He moved in slow motion toward the light and at last the fog began to lift. The light became hundreds of points of brilliance that were pierced by dark moving shadows. At last the shadows took shape and he heard one calling his name.
“Dr. Miller, can you hear me?”
“I think he’ coming out of it,” another voice said.
Although the figures were lit from behind by the giant chandelier, Kirk recognized
one as Jim Paulson, the other was the Dr. Craig who’d treated Senator Shipley. Behind them stood the tall dark form of a black man. Kirk’s f irst impression was the haggard look about them. Their faces looked drawn and tired.
The fragments fell together and suddenly it all came back to him. The pain of memory filled him as he fought to control his emotions.
Someone else joined the group hovering around him. It was Mrs. Jackson. Seeing her there -- alive after the agonizing scene in Parker’s office caused Kirk to groan in pain.
The little black lady held a glass in her hand. She leaned forward and lifted his head slightly to assist him.
“Here, drink this, young man. It’ll make you feel better.”
She held the glass to his mouth and he drank the cool liquid. He remained numbed by deep grief, first the tragic death of his mentor, the unnerving interrogation by Parker, and finally the murder of his wife.
Though he was badly shaken, he knew he had to do something. But what? Suddenly a spark of memory struck him--a vague recollection from an event earlier in the evening.
“Yes, that’s it!” he whispered to himself.
Mrs. Jackson had laid him back on the gurney, but during the time she held him, He could see out of the corner of his eye their guards were talking among themselves, apparently oblivious to the little drama nearby.
“Jim,” Kirk whispered. “Ask the guards if you can wheel me into the alcove where they put the Senator earlier.
Paulson was puzzled by the request, but did as Kirk asked. The guards shrugged and nodded.
“The rest of you come with us,” Kirk added softly.
As Paulson and Henry Jackson wheeled Kirk past the Primagnon guards, he faked unconsciousness and they apparently assumed he was being taken to the quieter vestibule to recover.
Once inside the alcove Kirk threw off the sheet that covered him and sat on the side of the gurney. He gestured for the others come closer. They sensed the secrecy of what he was about to say and gathered as close around him as possible. The group consisted of Mrs. Jackson, her son Henry, Sally merrywether, Paulson and Dr. Craig.
He looked around at his fellow conspirators and started to explain his plan.
“I assume you’ve all been interviewed by these so-called Primagnons?” They all nodded or murmured in agreement.
“Then I gather that, to put it mildly, you also disagreed with their plan in one way or another?” Again they all agreed.
“Then we’re outcasts, apparently incompatible with their grand design. I’ve no idea what they plan to do with us now, But I do know we’ve got to do something to stop them from destroying us all. So far they’ve been using a powerful secret weapon on us -- Fear.” They’ve kept us so stifled by our own terror we’ve forgotten our wits, our power to reason. But, the Senator said it -- We’ve got to do something to stop their destruction of mankind.
“While coming to my senses just now I remembered something I saw while we were all stunned by the Senator’s death. Something in this room that didn’t register until just now.
Kirk stopped to look at them and realized something had happened to him during this evening. He could feel a new power surging though him. And although he was still a prisoner of the Primagnons, he sensed a new determination within himself. He quickly accepted this new strength and went on.
“We’ve assumed the only entrance or exit to these rooms are the big doors at either end. If I’m not mistaken, there’s also a way out of this very alcove.”
His comrades looked around mystified. “I know, It looks solid enough, but if you’ll remember after the Senator’s death, we left the alcove to the Primagnons. I happened to look back for a moment and thought I saw a dark opening with a light beyond. Unfortunately, I wasn’t functioning clearly at the time and let it pass.”
He glanced toward the alcove entrance, but the archway was partially covered over with potted palms and the guards were out of sight. He rose and went to the back wall of the alcove and touched the wall tentatively while his comrades moved to stand near him. He gave the wall another push and it gave slightly. Kirk turned to smile at the group.
You won’t believe this, but I have a feeling this entire ballroom is nothing but a shell--a flimsy veneer like some movie set. We’ve been imprisoned in the cardboard box of our own fear.”
Several of the small group put their hands out to feel the walls, a look of disbelief on their faces. The young physicist was right, The walls looked sturdy and solid yet were flimsy to the touch.
“By God, Miller!” Jim Paulson offered. “I think you’re right! Looks like a good swift kick would send it toppling like a house of cards.”
“Mrs.Jackson,’ Kirk asked the little black lady. “”Would you please check on the Primagnons?”
“Of course,” she replied and moved quietly to a position behind the potted palms where she was hidden, but had a good view of the ballroom.
“Not a Primagnon in sight,” she whispered over her shoulder.
Kirk checked along the elegant molding that adorned the wall of the alcove.
“Ah, here we are,” he smiled at the others. “Jim, Please give me a hand.”
Kirk took hold of the wainscote molding and lifted it slightly. The flimsy section of panel began to move and was so light, help was’t necessary The panel was easily lifted out and they leaned it against the wall beside the opening. Beyond the makeshift door was a dark opening lit by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling.
“Here’s the plan I have in mind,” whispered Kirk. “I think it would be best of the ladies waited for us here. We’ll scout the way and if we find a way out, We’ll send someone for help and come back for the others.
“Jim, I want to go with you.” Sally whispered, taking Paulson by the arm.
“I think Dr. Miller is right Sal,” replied the reporter reassuringly. “It could be more dangerous out there than it is in here.”
“We'd just be in the way, dear,” agreed Mrs. Jackson who had rejoined the group.
Kirk showed the women how to replace the panel. Paulson gave Sally a lingering kiss while Henry Jackson said farewell to his mother. Then they joined Dr. Craig and Miller and the four men stepped through the opening. They helped the ladies return the panel to it’s proper place and inspected their new surroundings.
The area beyond the panel was dimly lit, but they could see some distance in either direction. Kirk had told the story right. The outside of the ballroom resembled the back side of a stage or movie set. Just so many flats with braces to hold them in place. A giant cardboard box. Opposite the flimsy ballroom, however, was a wall of concrete forming a hallway about six feet wide that stretched away in both directions.
“Unless I’m mistaken,” Kirk told the men, “the street entrance should be off in that direction.”
“Looks about right to me,” agreed Paulson.
They set off, moving briskly, yet quietly. At the corner of the concrete structure was another light. When they reached it, Jackson let out a surprised gasp.
“Eggs! Ninety-nine cents a dozen? That must have been a while back.”
The other looked at the small faded sign Jackson had pointed out at the corner of the building. It wasclear to them the ballroom was built inside a huge deserted supermarket. One closed down years before.
They paused for only a moment when Kirk reminded them of their mission.
“No time for nostalgia, gentlemen. We’d better get going The theater entrance has to be over this way.”
As they moved off, they suddenly heard a sound from behind them and realized someone was approaching along the passage way from the direction they’d just come.