He quickly saw that the combined simulated brainwaves, sonic vibrations and light patterns were having some effect on their minds. But what was the effect going to be? They were certainly responding. Their bodies were relaxing, their faces were no longer twisted with insanity. But was the tranquilomat actually doing any constructive good - what it had been designed to do? He upped the output to 75 degrees.
His hand began to tremble. His mouth and throat were tight and dry. He couldn't keep going. He stepped back. His stomach ached. His bones ached. His eyes felt puffy. He began to move towards the machine again. But he couldn't make it. He moved towards the half-full ampoule of M-A 19 on the table. He filled the blunt hypodermic. He found a vein. He was weeping as the explosions hit his brain.
THIS TIME it was different.
He saw an army of machines advancing towards him. An army of malevolent hallucinomats. He tried to run, but a thousand electrodes were clamped to his body and he could not move.
From nowhere, needles, entered his veins. Voices shouted SEWARD! SEWARD! SEWARD! The hallucinomats advanced, shrilling, blinking, buzzing-laughing.
The machines were laughing at him.
SEWARD!
Now he saw Farlowe's car's registration plate.
YOU 110 YOU 111 YOU 119 SEWARD!
Y O U!
SEWARD!
His brain was being squeezed. It was contracting, contracting.
The voices became distant, the machines began to recede. When they had vanished he saw he was standing in a circular room in the centre of which was a low dais. On the dais was a chair.
In the chair was the Man Without A Navel. He smiled at Seward.
'Welcome back, old boy,' he said.
Brother Sebastian and the woman, Magdalen, stood close to the dais. Magdalen's smile was cool and merciless, seeming to anticipate some new torture that the Man and Brother Sebastian had devised.
But Seward was jubilant. He was sure his little tranquilomat had got results.
'I think I've done it,' he said quietly. ' I think I've built a workable tranquilomat - and, in a way, it's thanks to you. I had to speed my work up to beat you- and I did it!'
They seemed unimpressed.
'Congratulations, Seward,' smiled the Man.Without A Navel.
'But this doesn't alter the situation, you know. Just because you have an antidote doesn't mean we have to use it.'
Seward reached inside his shirt and felt for the vial taped under his arm. It had gone. Some of his confidence went with the discovery.
Magdalen smiled. ' It was kind of you to drink the drugged brandy.'
He put his hands in his jacket pocket.
The gun was back there. He grinned.
'What's he smiling at?' Magdalen said nervously.
'I don't know. It doesn't matter. Brother Sebastian, I believe you have finished work on your version of Seward's hypnomat?'
'I have,' said the sighing, cold voice.
'Let's have it in. It is a pity we didn't have it earlier. It would have saved us time - and Seward all his efforts.'
The curtains behind them parted and Mr Hand, Mr Morl and the Laughing Cavalier wheeled in a huge, bizarre machine that seemed to have a casing of highly-polished gold, silver and platinum. There were two sets of lenses in its domed, head-like top. They looked like eyes staring at Seward.
Was this a conditioning machine like the ones they'd probably used on the human populace? Seward thought it was likely. If they got him with that, he'd be finished. He pulled the gun out of his pocket. He aimed it at the right-hand lens and pulled the trigger.
The gun roared and kicked in his hand, but no bullet left the muzzle. Instead there came a stream of small, brightly coloured globes, something like those used in the attraction device on the tranquilomat. They sped towards the machine, struck it, exploded. The machine buckled and shrilled. It steamed and two discs, like lids, fell across the lenses. The machine rocked backwards and fell over.
The six figures began to converge on him, angrily.
Suddenly, on his left, he saw Farlowe, Martha and Sally step from behind a screen.
'Help me!' he cried to them.
'We can't!' Farlowe yelled. 'Use your initiative, son!'
'Initiative?' He looked down at the gun. The figures were coming closer. The Man Without A Navel smiled slowly.
Brother Sebastian tittered. Magdalen gave a low, mocking laugh that seemed - strangely - to be a criticism of his sexual prowess.
Mr Morl and Mr Hand retained their mournful and cheerful expressions respectively. The Laughing Cavalier flung back his head and-laughed. All around them the screens, which had been little more than head-high were lengthening, widening, stretching up and up.
He glanced back. The screens were growing.
He pulled the trigger of the gun. Again it bucked, again it roared-and from the muzzle came a stream of metallic-grey particles which grew into huge flowers. The flowers burst into flame and formed a wall between him and the six.
He peered around him, looking for Farlowe and the others.
He couldn't find them. He heard Farlowe's shout: ' Good luck, son!' He heard Martha and Sally crying goodbye. ' Don't go!' he yelled.
Then he realized he was alone. And the six were beginning to advance again - malevolent, vengeful.
Around him the screens, covered in weird designs that curled and swirled, ever-changing, were beginning to topple inwards.
In a moment he would be crushed.
Again he heard his name being called. SEWARD!
SEWARD!
Was it Martha's voice? He thought so.
'I'm coming,' he shouted, and pulled the trigger again.
The Man Without A Navel, Magdalen, Brother Sebastian, the Laughing Cavalier, Mr Hand and Mr Morl-all screamed in unison and began to back away from him as the gun's muzzle spouted a stream of white fluid which floated into the air.Still the screens were falling, slowly, slowly.
The white fluid formed a net of millions of delicate strands.
It drifted over the heads of the six. It began to descend. They looked up and screamed again.
'Don't, Seward,' begged the Man Without A Navel.' Don't, old man - I'll make it worth your while.'
Seward watched as the net engulfed them. They struggled and cried and begged.
It did not surprise him much when they began to shrink.
No!
They weren't shrinking-he was growing. He was growing over the toppling screens. He saw them fold inwards. He looked down and the screens were like cards folding neatly over the six little figures struggling in the white net. Then, as the screens folded down, the figures were no longer in sight. It got lighter. The screens rolled themselves into a ball.
The ball began to take on a new shape.
It changed colour. And then, there it was -a perfectly formed human skull.
Slowly, horrifyingly, the skull began to gather flesh and blood and muscles to itself. The stuff flowed over it. Features began to appear. Soon, in a state of frantic terror, Seward recognized the face.
It was his own.
His own face, its eyes wide, its lips parted. A tired, stunned, horrified face.
He was back in the laboratory. And he was staring into a mirror.
He stumbled away from the mirror. He saw he wasn't holding a gun in his hand but a hypodermic needle. He looked round the room.
The tranquilomat was still on the window-sill. He went to the. window. There, quietly talking among the ruins below, was a group of sane men and women. They were still in rags, still gaunt. But they were sane. That was evident. They were saner than they had ever been before.