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He remembered it now, remembered how it frightened him. Which meant that there must be someone else in the house.Īs a boy he had been shut in. He had not noticed the missing milk or sandwiches.
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But if he was here, and if he knew what was going on, why didn't he just come right on out of the woodwork, free Garrison and make an accusation?īy 5.15 A.M. He could be here right now, looking after his master's interests as always. He could have gone to Germany, turned around and flown straight back. Koenig? The German manservant seemed most eligible, Wyatt had to admit.
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They seemed almost to shut him in.Īnd coming awake when once more the sun had fallen upon him, he had seen that they were through the pass and that the river's bed was dry and cracked in places, and that the surrounding land was weathered into strange formations here, and the Machine moved more slowly under heavy, dark and oppressive skies. They seemed to weigh on him with the weight of the Universe. But first a wash and a shave, then coffee. By then everything must be under control Garrison dead, all records completely up to date, and Wyatt's own nerves steady once more. Terri would be here in a little over four hours. And as the machine had followed the stream through the great and rambling V of the deep cleft, so Garrison had once more slept upon its broad back. There were no scraps of food in his mouth, no spilled liquids, and he must certainly have choked if it were attempted.Īfter that he had climbed aboard the revitafized Machine to ride it out of the desert into a green and beautiful valley, and for some little time - though time as a real concept did not have a great deal of meaning here - he had followed a tinkling stream to where it cut a cleft through a range of high, domed hills. How had he been fed? -that was anybody's guess. Not by Psychomech, no, for the machine's feeding was really recycling and more on the psychical than the physical side. Not only had the control panel been interfered with but Garrison had been fed. It seemed that Psychomech could only help him - and conversely that he could only help the Machine - in a real crisis. īut between times, in the room of the machine.ĭraining feeling which came whenever the Machine suffered a power loss and he had been powerless to do anything about it. Not only was there no one there, there were nq signs that anyone had been there. Up and downstairs, the cellar, the attic, all the larger cupboards. Garrison had known it, had instinctively sensed it, that Things had started to go wrong some time ago. Then, leaving the room, he padlocked the door and pocketed the keys.Īnd yet.
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Wyatt returned to the machine room, gave Garrison an opiate booster, turned up fear-stimulation to the full and jammed the controls firmly in that position. And so on, chasing his thoughts in a circle - but only for a few minutes, until common-sense took over. How could it possibly be Terri? She had been right here with him when things started to go wrong. He cursed himself for his mind's illogical processing of data. Perhaps this was her get-out, her escape route from actions she could neither control nor tolerate. Or could it be Terri herself, half-crazy with guilt, perhaps even schizoid? Wyatt remembered thinking to himself that she was taking all of this very well.
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