Текст книги "[Magazine 1967-­10] - The Mind-­Sweeper Affair"

Автор книги: Robert Hart Davis

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"One billion. That's it," Danton snapped.

Before Rand could answer through his smile, the two men stopped talking as two waiters in white smocks entered. The three guards still in the room stepped to the waiters and took the trays. Rand and Danton did not even glance at the waiters. They were too intent on watching each other in their strange and deadly game with the malignant machine hovering over the whole vast and shadowed warehouse room.

The two guards carried the trays to the desk. Rand glanced at the trays.

"Ah, here is our food and drink. Sandwich?"

"I'm not hungry," Danton snapped. "What about it, Rand? One billion. A fair offer."

"A drink, then?" Rand said.

"Scotch, no ice," Danton said. "I want an answer."

Rand busied himself making the two drinks. The guards went away at a small wave of his hand. The two waiters seemed to have left. Rand handed a drink to Danton, leaned back and began to munch on a sandwich.

"I'm sure you want an answer," Rand said. "But there is much I have to consider. I have other offers, you know."

"None to match ours. I know that, too."

"Perhaps, but there is still the idea of going into the spy business ourselves," Rand said. "You know, the interest you and U.N.C.L.E. and Interpol have shown is most illuminating. I am beginning to think that the greatest rewards of money and power lie in using the machine ourselves."

"We'd break you!" Danton said angrily.

"Would you now?" Rand said. "I suppose you would."

"Don't even think about it, believe me," Danton. said. "Now I've made a firm offer. One billion for it all. Take it or leave it."

Suddenly Rand began to laugh. The slender, grey-haired man shook with laughter, and tears streamed down his cheeks. He reached up and mopped at his eyes. He looked straight at Danton. The THRUSH chief watched Rand with a confused expression on his face.

"No deal," Rand laughed. "You don't really think I would trust THRUSH, do you? My dear Danton, you are no better than U.N.C.L.E. You are also playing for time. You have no intention of making a deal. Once I agreed, you would bring your army and take my Mind-Sweeper. I am not a fool!"

Danton protested. "I assure you—"

"Stop it, Danton! I know THRUSH. You would never honor such a deal. But I wanted to see how high you would suggest. It gives me a good estimate of the real power of my little beauty. No, I will not deal with you. I will operate myself. I have the first really big piece of data to sell already, the outer-space defense system of the United States. I believe I know where I can sell that for ten million alone."

"Why, you stupid—" Danton exploded.

Rand waved a peremptory hand toward the three guards. They came running, guns at ready.

"Take Mr. Danton away," Rand snapped.

Danton paled. "You'll regret this, Rand!"

Rand looked at him coldly. "Not as much as you will. Take him to a cell with his friends. We will shoot them later! Perhaps THRUSH will pay for him."

Protesting, Danton was led toward the door. The guards handled him roughly. Two of them took him out. The third guard remained in the room. Rand sat at his desk, lost in thought. His eyes wandered toward the Mind– Sweeper machine, and he began to smile.

In the corridor outside the warehouse there was sudden noise. Men were running. The door burst open and three guards came in. Rand turned abruptly to face them.

"They escaped!" one of the guards cried.

Rand snapped, "Who escaped, you fool? Danton?"

"No, the two U.N.C.L.E. men. They're gone. We went to relieve the guards and we found them, the guards, locked in the room! The U.N.C.L.E. men overpowered them!"

Rand blinked. "Overpowered? Two against four with guns!? Do I have nothing but idiots here?"

The guards reddened. Rand watched them.

"No sign of them?"

"No, sir."

Rand nodded. "All right. They probably went out one of the loading ramps. Find them! They can't have gone far. Search the factory, just in case, and then search the countryside."

"Yes sir."

"Wait!" Rand said as the guards all turned to go. "In case they have escaped, institute Plan F. Immediately. We have no more reason to stay here anyway. You understand? Plan F. And notify Dr. Heimat below."

"Yes sir. Plan F. At once."

The guards all turned and ran from the room. Rand sat in the silence that descended and frowned. He looked again at his Mind-Sweeper machine. That made him smile again. He stared at the machine like a father looking at a beautiful daughter.

"So, now we are about ready, my beauty," the slender, grey-haired man said out loud. "We will make history, you and I, eh? Heimat has you almost perfected; you will soon have brothers and sisters." Rand laughed a high, in sane laugh. "Yes, you and I will have power. Power and wealth. Who knows how far we will take each other?"

"Not too far, Rand," a voice said.

Rand whirled, his made eyes searching the shadows of the room.

Then he saw the figure in the white smock. There was a gun in the man's hand, and it was trained on Rand. The man stepped out of the shadows.

"Solo!" Rand breathed.

THREE

NAPOLEON SOLO smiled as he moved slowly and carefully toward the slender, grey-haired electronics man.

Solo and Illya had never left the room, but had blended into the shadows and had overheard the last part of the talk between Rand and Danton. They had lurked, waited, until Rand was alone in the room. Now Solo stepped out with his gun ready.

"Don't try anything, Rand," Solo said quietly.

Rand stared at the gun. "I have no desire to die, Mr. Solo. But what do you think you can do? My men have this place locked up. You can't escape."

"Neither can you," Solo said.

Rand did not flinch. "You plan to kill me?"

"If we have to."

"And destroy the machine?"

Solo nodded grimly. "And destroy the machine."

"You'll never survive," Rand said coldly.

"Maybe not, but you and the machine will go first."

Rand sneered. "What good will that do you? My men will still be here. Dr. Heimat will duplicate the machine. Don't be a fool, Solo. Destroy the machine and me and you throw away a fortune. You throw away the power to rule the world! Think of it!"

"I'm thinking of it," Solo said.

"Then join us! That's an offer. Leave U.N.C.L.E. and join with me. I can use your brains. Danton is right about one thing—there'll be a big risk, and I'll need an organization. You can be chief of our security organization. Think of it, Solo! Infinite money! Infinite power! Control of all the minds!"

"I can sometimes barely control my own mind," Solo said quietly. "Now, if you want to get out alive, I think you better call Dr. Heimat and get him up here."

Rand laughed. "Don't be a fool. You'll get nothing from me! You can't escape!"

"Illya," Solo said.

Rand blinked. He watched Solo and saw that the agent was looking over his own, Rand's, shoulder as he spoke. Rand turned to look behind him. His tanned face went bloodless.

Illya Kuryakin stood at the Mind-Sweeper machine. The small blond agent had his hands on switches. Kevin Rand tried to bluster.

"What do you think to do with the machine, Kuryakin?"

"Use it," Illya said quietly.

Rand sneered. "You think that you—"

"I am a trained electronics engineer, Rand," Illya said. "The machine is not too difficult. I don't expect any trouble. I suggest you relax."

Rand watched Illya. He glanced at Solo behind him. Then he made a desperate attempt. He bent, and came up from the desk with a pistol.

Solo leaped, kicked, and the pistol went sailing across the room.

The Mind-Sweeper began to hum. The tape spools turned. The lights began to flash. As the machine hummed, its probe was aimed directly at Rand. For an instant the slender man sat rigid. Then he began to blink, rub at his eyes, smile.

The machine hummed on, and Rand slowly began to nod where he sat. His arms dropped limp. Then he seemed to sleep.

Solo walked to the machine where Illya manipulated dials and switches. The computer section had begun to hum. Illya nodded at the machine.

"It really is a beautiful machine, Napoleon," Illya said. "It scans the brain, absorbs the data, records it on tape, and then feeds the tape into the small computer. In the computer the data is coded, and printed on a paper-tape read-out. The read-out tape can be stored, or it can be set for immediate read-out."

"Is it set?" Solo asked.

"Yes," Illya said. "We should know what is on Mr. Rand's mind any second."

The two agents bent over the tape. Solo watched the main door from time to time. The read-out tape began to come out of the machine. Illya Kuryakin studied it closely.

"This is the only model, but others are almost ready," Illya said. "They are all down in the factory we saw. This is Rand's only production center now."

The tape clicked on as the machine hummed and Rand sat slumped in his desk chair.

"He plans to operate the machines himself once he has ten models, and blackmail the whole world if he can," Illya read.

Rand squirmed in his chair, muttered, like a man in the throes of a bad dream.

Illya Kuryakin read, "Heimat is the only man who really can build the machine, and Rand himself can almost do it. Heimat's office is extension two thousand-seven-hundred and seventy, the code signal to make him come fast is the use of the words, 'There is no rush.' Heimat is a former Nazi scientist."

Solo held up his hand. Illya looked up. Far off, somewhere, there was a sound like gunfire.

The two agents looked at each other in the silent warehouse.

"It sounds like they think they've found us," Solo said. "Can you hurry that up?"

Illya read again. "Here it is! The outer-space defense system data is here in the machine memory banks, and Rand has it in his desk, but that's all!" Illya looked up. "Only the machine and Rand himself has the details. He has not passed it on yet."

"So all we need is Rand and the machine," Solo said.

"And Heimat," Illya said.

"Right. Let's get him up here," Solo said. "And fast. Someone will be coming in soon."

"Call Heimat imitating Rand's voice," Illya said.

Solo nodded and went to the desk where Rand still sat in a kind of drugged sleep, a smile on his face now as if all his evil thoughts had been taken and left him peaceful. Solo picked up the inter office telephone.

Illya continued to read the read-out tape of the machine that hummed on in the silence of the vast warehouse.

Solo imitated Rand's voice. "Dr. Heimat, extension two-thousand, seven-hundred and seventy. Heimat? I'd like to talk to you, yes. No, there is no rush. That's correct. Right."

Solo hung up. "He should be here pretty soon."

"Very soon, I hope." Illya said, his eyes still studying the read-out tape. "Plan F is—"

The distant shots suddenly sounded closer. Solo and Illya listened. Then there were hurrying footsteps in the corridor outside the warehouse. Solo jumped for the cover of a packing case. Illya crouched down behind the humming Mind-Sweeper, his pistol ready.

The door opened and a short, stocky man of sixty came hurrying into the vast room. The man had a full grey beard and the wild eyes of a fanatic. He saw Rand and walked rapidly toward the small executive.

"What the devil is it, Rand?" Heimat had a heavy German accent, and talked as he walked. "I have work. You have ordered Plan F, and you realize how much work that—"

Heimat stopped dead. His fanatic eyes bulged in his head. He saw the machine operating, and saw Rand slumped asleep in the desk chair. The small German whirled.

Solo stepped out. "That's far enough, Dr. Heimat."

Heimat turned away and saw Illya stand up behind the machine with the pistol leveled.

"Was machts du? Who are you? Was wollen Sie hier?"

"Just keep it low and simple, Doctor," Solo said.

Illya snapped an order in German. The stocky doctor paled, looked at Rand, looked around the silent room. Then he gulped.

"Polizei?"

"In a way we're police," Illya said. "Now keep it calm, and we'll all—"

In the corridor outside there were loud shots, screams, the running of many feet. Men cursed and sub-machine guns rattled. The running feet approached the door into the warehouse.

"Quick!" Illya cried.

Solo pushed Heimat ahead of him, toward a stack of heavy boxes along the far wall away from, the main door. Illya shut off the machine and ran after Solo. The two agents and Heimat jumped behind the boxes lust as the door burst open and men in black uniforms rushed in, their guns covering the whole room.

Illya and Solo watched.

Emil Danton strode into the room. The elegant THRUSH leader looked at Rand and laughed.

"Hello, Rand. It looks like my deal."

FOUR

DANTON STOOD IN front of Kevin Rand. The slender electronics expert blinked his eyes and shook his head as if not quite sure where he was or what was happening. He blinked up at Danton and seemed puzzled.

"Danton?"

The THRUSH leader laughed. "Myself. You made a mistake, Rand, as I told you you would. You see, my capture itself activated a device all THRUSH leaders carry. The device alerted my men outside to my capture and they called for help. We have an organization, as I tried to tell you. Now my men have your whole plant. I'm afraid quite a few of your men had to die. Too bad, but you should not have tangled with THRUSH. You're out of your depth, Rand."

"Danton?" Rand said. His eyes showed the battle going on in his brain to remember what was bothering him. He looked sharply at Danton. "But—but it wasn't you, no. It was—"

"You thought you had me, of course," Danton went on, "I tried to tell you that you were no match for THRUSH. Now I have your plant, and you. I will have the machine and Heimat, and all your facilities. I have them, Rand."

Rand nodded, his full consciousness returned. "Yes, so I see. But—Solo and that Russian. Where are they?"

Danton brushed this off. "I don't care about them now. The important matter is that you defied THRUSH, and you lost. I could kill you. But I would rather use you. You're beaten, Rand, and the Mind-Sweeper belongs to THRUSH. But we can use you, too."

Rand nodded again. "Why not? I know when I'm beaten. THRUSH appears to be all you say it is. I see no reason why I shouldn't join with you. Provided the terms are satisfactory."

"No terms, Rand," Danton said harshly. "You're in no position to make terms. I'm offering you a chance to join us, no more than that. You can be useful to us."

Rand watched Danton. "Very well."

"A wise decision," Danton said. and smiled. "Now let's get the machine and Heimat out of here. I don't like this place—too exposed and U.N.C.L.E. knows about it."

"Wait," Rand said. "I think I should be given a post of some authority in THRUSH, Danton, and for that I have something to give you."

"Give me?" Danton said.

Rand smiled. "Something quite important. Without it, you'll never leave this plant alive."

"What kind of a trick is this?" Danton snarled.

"No trick. I just need your word that I will have some rank in THRUSH."

"You want to die? If you have anything important to say, Rand, say it and without a deal."

Rand and Danton glared at each other. At last Rand sighed. He ran his thin fingers through his grey hair.

"Very well, an act of cooperation then. You see, I have to tell you that in my plan—"

Illya Kuryakin suddenly stood up from behind his boxes and shot three times at Rand.

Rand screamed once, hit by all three shots. The slender man pitched forward on to his face and lay still in a pool of spreading blood.

The room erupted with shots. Danton screamed orders to shoot Illya and Solo.

"Get them! There, behind those boxes!"

Behind the boxes Napoleon Solo sat on Dr. Heimat and fired from the cover of the heavy boxes. Illya fired. From their cover they picked off the THRUSH men like sitting ducks.

"Take cover!" Danton roared. All the THRUSH men dove for safety. Danton leaped behind a box. For a long and sudden minute all firing ceased as both sides crouched under cover.

Kevin Rand lay in his own blood between the two sides.

Danton peered over a box and called out.

"Come now, gentlemen. We have you outnumbered ten to one. You know you don't have a chance. Solo? Kuryakin?"

"Come and get us, Danton," Solo called out. Heimat squirmed under him. Solo grinned.

"We'll simply outflank you, Solo," Danton said.

"Go ahead," Solo called back.

"Do you think you know some thing I don't know?" Danton said.

"Come and see," Solo said.

He looked down at Heimat beneath him. Danton would not want to hurt Heimat. Illya Kuryakin was watching the hidden enemy.

"So?" Danton said. "Very well. We don't need you, do we? I suppose you have help on the way. It will do you no good. I have enough men in the plant. From where you are you can't cover the machine. My men will simply pin you down, and we will take the machine and go."

"What about Heimat?" Illya called.

There was a long silence. Danton crouched behind his box.

"I see," Danton said at last. "You have Heimat, eh? Well, I suppose we'll have to make a deal. What do you say…"

Behind the boxes Illya Kuryakin suddenly touched Napoleon Solo. "Down!"

Solo looked at the small Russian.

"Down, now!" Illya cried.

Solo dropped. He lay flat with his hands over his head. Illya lay beside him. Dr. Heimat did not even attempt to escape. Illya was looking at his watch.

Danton called. "Well? What deal would you—"

First the concrete floor seemed to rise up.

Then the roof beams buckled, sagged.

The earth seemed to rock like a ship at sea.

Then the explosion shook the entire building to its core.

Beams fell, the floor heaved, men were thrown everywhere.

Screams came from all through the plant outside the warehouse. Flames began to flicker at the windows.

Explosions and shock waves shuddered through the plant and the night.

The THRUSH men ran in confusion, screamed, shouted. Boxes tumbled onto men all through the warehouse. Debris showered down on Solo and Illya.

FIVE

BUT THERE HAD been no explosion in the warehouse.

The building shook and rocked and cracked but this was from the explosions in the other parts of the plant. Flames filled the night sky outside the warehouse, but in the warehouse itself there was no explosion or fire, only the results of near explosions, and the smoke of close fire.

Danton shouted. "It's a destruct! But not in here! Grab the machine! Quickly now!"

Chaos and confusion filled the warehouse. Illya and Solo stood up. They hauled Heimat to his feet. They began to move across the warehouse, their guns ready.

THRUSH men saw them. "There! U. N. C.L.E.!"

Illya and Solo shot, staggered on across the broken floor among the chaos of men and littered boxes.

"Forget them!" Danton screamed. "The machine! Get the machine out! Hurry! Watch them, but get the machine!"

Firing as they went, Illya and Solo moved toward the door through the smoke and confusion. The door was blocked by fallen beams. Illya and Solo turned toward the outer loading doors. Some of the heavy double doors stood shattered and open to the night that was bright with flame.

"The machine!" Danton shouted. "You fools, get the machine! Hurry"

With a curse, Danton ran to the machine himself. He grabbed other THRUSH men and forced them to take hold of the Mind-Sweeper. They worked like smoke-blackened demons around the malignant machine, bent, took hold, strained to raise it.

Illya and Solo ran with Heimat toward the open loading doors at the far end. Suddenly Heimat looked back and saw Danton give the order to lift the Mind-Sweeper.

The stocky German fell to the floor.

Illya and Solo bent to pick him up.

The explosion ripped through the warehouse itself.

The Mind-Sweeper, the THRUSH men lifting it, and Emil Danton seemed to vanish in a sheet of flame.

One instant Danton was there with his arms out in an order to lift the Mind-Sweeper, and the next instant he was a shattered corpse in the twisted and broken metal of the exploded machine.

In the explosion, Illya and Solo were knocked flat. They lay stunned. All through the room—a shambles now—THRUSH men lay groaning on the floor.

Illya and Solo staggered up.

Heimat was gone.

"There!" Illya shouted.

Heimat was running some fifty yards ahead and almost at the doors out.

"He knew the machine would explode!" Illya cried.

"Come on!" Solo shouted.

"We've got to get him!" Illya cried.

They ran after the stocky German. They reached the doors and ran on out into the night. Heimat was still some fifty yards ahead running toward the woods. He turned and saw them gaining on him. He was an old man and they could easily outrun him.

Heimat turned and raced as fast as he could back toward the buildings of the plant that burned fiercely in the night.

"If he gets away we can still lose it all!" Solo panted as he ran.

"Head him off," Illya gasped.

They gained, but they were still some twenty-five yards behind the fleeing scientist when the ground suddenly rose up and seemed to enfold Heimat like a great mouth eating him. He rose into the air and for a long second his feet continued to move, his legs pumping madly as he ran on empty air.

Illya and Solo were flung down again.

The explosion tore up out of the bowels of the earth itself.

Heimat hung there, still trying to run suspended in mid-air, and then he fell screaming into the yawning pit of flames that came from below where the underground rooms had exploded in the final holocaust of the plant.

Illya and Solo lay where they were for a moment. Ten yards in front of them a great hole had opened in the ground and the flames licked up into the darkness. They stood up, battered and bruised but unhurt.

They looked around them. Flames burned everywhere. The entire plant was a shattered hulk. But there were no more explosions.

The darkness was almost dead in its silence.

Only the small sound of flames, and the faint screams of the injured.

Dawn was beginning to break in the east.

SIX

ALEXANDER WAVERLY sat in his helicopter on the edge of the field. Police and firemen swarmed over the still blazing wreckage of the plant in the distance. A thin sun had just risen over the eastern edge of the world. Illya and Solo, patched and bandaged but still black with smoke and charred wood, stood in front of the U.N.C.L.E. helicopter.

"Well, it seems the affair is ended," Waverly said, "and quite satisfactorily. Good work, gentlemen."

"Thank you," Illya said.

Waverly rubbed his hands. "I'm afraid it is all gone. The machine, Rand, Heimat, the plans, all the facilities. We will never have the secret of the—uh—Mind-Sweeper. But perhaps that is just as well. Rand had a most complete destruct mechanism in the plant. I imagine he expected to be far away when it went off."

The three U.N.C.L.E. men looked away toward the ruin of the plant and the firemen picking hopelessly among the wreckage. Men with stretchers were still carrying away the few survivors of the plant personnel, Rand's gang, and THRUSH's small army. Solo looked at Illya.

"One thing I don't get, Illya," Solo said. "Why did you stand up and shoot Rand? They didn't even know we were there."

"Plan F," Illya said. "I read it on the tape read-out from the machine. Rand's mind told me what Plan F was. It was the destruct. It also booby-trapped the Mind-Sweeper."

"But—" Solo began.

"I knew the machine was booby-trapped. As soon as Plan F was activated, Napoleon, the machine could not be moved without exploding, except by Rand, who could disconnect the explosive device. I knew when he started to tell Danton something, that what he was going to tell Danton was that the machine could not be moved, and that the plant would blow up."

Waverly nodded. "I see. So you stopped Rand from telling Danton. Clever. By shooting Rand, you prevented Danton from knowing that the machine would explode."

Illya Kuryakin nodded. "I had no way of being sure that Napoleon and I would get out alive. So I had to prevent Danton from knowing that the machine would explode if he moved it. That way, even if we were dead, Danton would not get the machine."

Waverly sucked on his cold pipe and looked again at the shattered plant that seemed to glow in the sun.

"The Mind-Sweeper is destroyed, and we got Danton, too," Waverly said slowly, and smiled. "A very good piece of work, indeed. An excellent night's work. Naturally, we will make no report about this, or Forsyte, or any of them. They were not spies. And you're sure that the outer-space defense data is completely destroyed?"

"Only Kevin Rand and the machine had the data," Solo said.

"Excellent," Waverly said, and looked at the sun, clear and gold above the eastern horizon. "It looks like a nice day. I suggest you gentlemen take the rest of the day, and get a good night's sleep. Tomorrow, I think we have another small problem for you to tackle."

With a sigh, Napoleon Solo and Illya Kuryakin climbed into the helicopter. Moments later it was on its way back to U.N.C.L.E. Headquarters.

The shattered ruin of Rand Electronics smoldered behind.