The Grand Wheel

Scarne hurried on until they both entered a travel cubicle. The agent tapped out a destination, then turned to him with a knowing smile as the tiny room zipped on its way.

‘That wasn’t too hard, was it? You can take that face off now. Here, let me help you.’

He placed his hands on Scarne’s neck and tugged. There was a faint ripping sound as the mask came away. Scarne touched his cheeks with his fingers. They were warm.

‘Where are we going?’ he asked.

‘Don’t worry, it’s all being taken care of.’

There was a holset in the corner of the cubicle. Scarne pointed to it. ‘I want you to put me in touch with Magdan.’

‘Who’s Magdan?’

‘My controller – until recently. That’s the only name I have for him: Magdan.’ He spoke with flinty patience. ‘Get him for me.’

Moving at speed through Sanfran’s conveyor system, the cubicle jerked and swayed. The agent stared at him. ‘Are you crazy or something? You ought to know there’s no way I could do that.’

Scarne avoided his rescuer’s gaze. He’s probably right, he thought. The time to make his play, he decided, would be when he got to debriefing.

Neither spoke further, and shortly the cubicle slowed. The agent tapped out another code on the address register, taking them through a secret routing gate, at which they speeded up again before sliding smoothly to a stop.

As he left the cubicle and emerged into a long corridor Scarne immediately felt that he had been here before. This was where he had previously been briefed and addicted. The walls were the same shade of green. He was ushered down a passage and into a side room he also thought he remembered. The furniture, the layout, everything.

A big, cadaverous-looking man sat behind the desk. He directed a bright, dazzling light on to Scarne’s face.

‘Sit down,’ he ordered.

Scarne groped his way to the seat. ‘Would you mind turning the light off?’ he complained. ‘It stops me thinking properly.’

The glare diminished a little in intensity, enabling him to make out the debriefing officer’s enormous head. ‘Been up on Luna, have you?’ The man’s voice was almost caressing. ‘Got something for us?’

‘I was at Marguerite Dom’s demesne. I met the Wheel’s top mathematicians there.’

‘And they gave you the equations? Just like that?’ The caress became menacing, scornful.

Scarne licked his lips. ‘It wasn’t so hard, really. I saw some secret papers. I more or less have the run of the place – they think I have talent, they trust me.’ He raised his voice. ‘But I didn’t make a record of them. It’s all in my head. Before I tell what I know I want your part of the arrangement fulfilled. I want the antidote.’

A short, explosive half-snarl, half-laugh came from the other side of the light. ‘What are you trying on, Scarne? I’ll get a randomatician in here and you can talk to him. Later – well, we’ll see.’

‘No. I won’t talk. I want the antidote.’

‘You fool, don’t you know we can get anything we want out of you?’

‘Easier to give me the antidote.’ He leaned forward. ‘Unless I’m mistaken, I’ve been in this building before. You have a laboratory here somewhere. Take me there and give me the antidote. Then I’ll talk.’ A whine came into his voice. ‘I haven’t had a dose for three days. I didn’t take my supply with me to Luna.’

A door opened at the back of the room. A tall, slender figure stood there, hazy in Scarne’s dazzled vision, then moved to just behind the debriefing officer. ‘These equations are so easy to memorize? That sounds improbable.’

‘No, they’re not. I’ll probably have lost most of it in a few hours, if I don’t write it down. I don’t have all of it at that – just enough to make the case clear.’

The newcomer sighed, turning to the seated man. ‘How tiresome he is. All right, have his releaser brought up here, and we need waste no more time.’

Scarne shook his head vigorously, aware that he was winning. ‘Not good enough. You could give me anything – just water.’ His words came out in an eager rush. ‘I want to go down, myself, to the laboratory – the same one where I was given that foul stuff. I want to see the antidote in its bottle, I want to see it put in the hypo. Then I’ll know it’s the right one.’

‘How will you know?’

‘I’ll know.’

The tall man leaned down and switched off the spotlight. ‘You are a nuisance, Mr Scarne. You are playing games with us. Well, come along.’

As Scarne’s eyes adjusted to the room’s normal light he saw that the second officer had a smooth, round face and a long, gawky neck. His eyes were bright and staring, like polished pebbles. But his movements as he stepped towards the door to the corridor were smooth and self-assured.

Meekly, Scarne went with him.

The drugs laboratory was several levels further down, confirming Scarne’s belief that he was in the Secret Intelligence Service’s main centre of Earth operations. He remembered the place when he walked into it: the long benches, the racks of vials. Everything neat and tidy. It was like walking into a recurring nightmare.