The Complete Stories_ Volume 1 - Isaac Asimov [256]
"Ah, yes. Where shall one find perfect security? What man can trust even his own unconscious? And you will now stand near to me, no?"
"Might as well." Darrity smiled. "You were very anxious to get in here, weren't you?"
"Not for myself, Inspector. And would you put away the knife, please."
Darrity turned in surprise in the direction of Blaustein's gentle head-gesture. He put his knife away and looked at Blaustein's companion for the second time. He whistled softly.
He said, "Hello, Dr. Ralson."
Ralson croaked, "Hello."
Blaustein was not surprised at Darrity's reaction. Ralson had lost twenty pounds since returning to the sanatorium. His face was yellow and wrinkled; the face of a man who had suddenly become sixty.
Blaustein said, "Will the test be starting soon?"
Darrity said, "It looks as if they're starting now."
He turned and leaned on the rail. Blaustein took Ralson's elbow and began leading him away, but Darrity said, softly, "Stay here, Doc. I don't want you wandering about."
Blaustein looked across the laboratory. Men were standing about with the uncomfortable air of having turned half to stone. He could recognize Grant, tall and gaunt, moving his hand slowly to light a cigarette, then changing his mind and putting lighter and cigarette in his pocket. The young men at the control panels waited tensely. Then there was a low humming and the faint smell of ozone filled the air.
Ralson said harshly, "Look!"
Blaustein and Darrity looked along the pointing finger. The projector seemed to flicker. It was as though there were heated air rising between it and them. An iron ball came swinging down pendulum fashion and passed through the flickering area.
"It slowed up, no?" said Blaustein, excitedly.
Ralson nodded. "They're measuring the height of rise on the other side to calculate the loss of momentum. Fools! I said it would work." He was speaking with obvious difficulty.
Blaustein said, "Just watch, Dr. Ralson. I would not allow myself to grow needlessly excited." The pendulum was stopped in its swinging, drawn up. The flickering about the projector became a little more intense and the iron sphere arced down once again.
Over and over again, and each time the sphere's motion was slowed with more of a jerk. It made a clearly audible sound as it struck the flicker. And eventually, it bounced. First, soggily, as though it hit putty, and then ringingly, as though it hit steel, so that the noise filled the place.
They drew back the pendulum bob and used it no longer. The projector could hardly be seen behind the haze that surrounded it.
Grant gave an order and the odor of ozone was suddenly sharp and pungent. There was a cry from the assembled observers; each one exclaiming to his neighbor. A dozen fingers were pointing.
Blaustein leaned over the railing, as excited as the rest. Where the projector had been, there was now only a huge semiglobular mirror. It was perfectly and beautifully clear. He could see himself in it, a small man standing on a small balcony that curved up on each side. He could see the fluorescent lights reflected in spots of glowing illumination. It was wonderfully sharp. He was shouting, "Look, Ralson. It is reflecting energy. It is reflecting light waves like a mirror. Ralson—" He turned, "Ralson! Inspector, where is Ralson?"
"What?" Darrity whirled. "I haven't seen him."
He looked about, wildly. "Well, he won't get away. No way of getting out of here now. You take the other side." And then he clapped hand to thigh, fumbled for a moment in his pocket, and said, "My knife is gone." Blaustein found him. He was inside the small office belonging to Hal Ross. It led off the balcony, but under the circumstances, of course, it had been deserted. Ross himself was not even an observer. A senior mechanic need not observe. But his office