A semitropical island, uninhabited, on the brink of the Caribbean.
And a woman, of course—chosen from among the many who would be willing to share such an escape.
Peculiarly, he glanced at Willie’s door.
It was too bad about her.
But she’d get along okay. The yacht… if he were only certain of Mendelhaus’ intentions…
The priest began frowning at Paul’s hesitation.
“Well?”
“I don’t want to put you to any trouble….”
“Nonsense!
You’re still afraid of us!
Very well, come with me.
There’s someone I want you to see.”
Mendelhaus turned and started down the corridor.
Paul lingered.
“Who… what—”
“Come on!” the priest snapped impatiently.
Reluctantly, Paul followed him to the stairway.
They descended to a gloomy basement and entered a smelly laboratory through a double-door.
Electric illumination startled him; then he heard the sound of a gasoline engine and knew that the power was generated locally.
“Germicidal lamps,” murmured the priest, following his ceilingward gaze.
“Some of them are.
Don’t worry about touching things.
It’s sterile in here.”
“But it’s not sterile for your convenience,” growled an invisible voice. “And it won’t be sterile at all if you don’t stay out!
Beat it, preacher!”
Paul looked for the source of the voice, and saw a small, short-necked man bending his shaggy gray head over a microscope at the other end of the lab.
He had spoken without glancing up at his visitors.
“This is Doctor Seevers, of Princeton, son,” said the priest, unruffled by the scientist’s ire. “Claims he’s an atheist, but personally I think he’s a puritan.
Doctor, this is the young man I was telling you about.
Will you tell him what you know about neuroderm?”
Seevers jotted something on a pad, but kept his eye to the instrument.
“Why don’t we just give it to him, and let him find out for himself?” the scientist grumbled sadistically.
“Don’t frighten him, you heretic!
I brought him here to be illuminated.”
“Illuminate him yourself.
I’m busy.
And stop calling me names.
I’m not an atheist; I’m a biochemist.”
“Yesterday you were a biophysicist.
Now, entertain my young man.”
Mendelhaus blocked the doorway with his body. Paul, with his jaw clenched angrily, had turned to leave.
“That’s all I can do, preacher,” Seevers grunted. “Entertain him. I know nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
I have some observed data.
I have noticed some correlations. I have seen things happen. I have traced the patterns of the happenings and found some probable common denominators. And that is all! I admit it.
Why don’t you preachers admit it in your racket?” “Seevers, as you can see, is inordinately proud of his humility—if that’s not a paradox,” the priest said to Paul.
“Now, Doctor, this young man—”
Seevers heaved a resigned sigh. His voice went sour-sweet.
“All right, sit down, young man.
I’ll entertain you as soon as I get through counting free nerve-endings in this piece of skin.”