Ferguson said stiffly, «Wait until then to swear her in.»
J chuckled. «It seems you were not listening, Ferguson old boy. I said I've already sworn her in.»
«You can revoke… «began the little fat man.
«I've made up my mind, gentlemen. I revoke nothing. If she doesn't work out, I take full responsibility. Really, since the Katerina Shumilova affair I've become more than somewhat skeptical about the effectiveness of our security precautions. We would probably get a higher percentage of loyal, patriotic Britons if we chucked the whole bloody screening process and recruited our people by lottery from the local Salvation Army breadline.» J took out his omnipresent pipe and began filling it with an air of satisfaction.
Lord Leighton said gloomily, «What's done is done, I suppose, but I can't see the good of it.»
J answered, tamping down his tobacco, «The simple truth is that we need her. She was able to get a reaction out of Richard… «
«A violent reaction,» put in Ferguson.
«But a reaction nonetheless,» J said. «As things stand, literally everything depends on Richard Blade's recovery.» He paused to let this sink in. «Therefore I think we must work closely with her, hiding nothing from her, granting her an unlimited need-to-know. How could we do that if she wasn't one of us, eh?» He lit up, exhaling little puffs of blue-white smoke. The air was filled with the strong but not unpleasant aroma of crude sailor's rough-cut tobacco.
«I see there's no arguing with you,» Ferguson sighed. «I'll simply have to get used to a strange woman wandering about, without training or aptitude, meddling here, meddling there, asking all manner of absurd questions.»
«Not at all, not at all,» J assured him. «Mrs. Smythe-Evans will be leaving your domain tonight. So will I.»
«But your friend Blade… «said Ferguson, surprised.
«Richard Blade will be going with us,» J said quietly.
«See here, I… «Ferguson sputtered. «My patient… «
«Your patient must be removed from the neighborhood of the KALI computer,» J said. «Surely you see that. From what little we know about this Ngaa creature, it will probably follow Richard when he leaves, and we must get the Ngaa away from that computer if we hope to prevent it recharging itself at intervals, growing larger and stronger and more dangerous. The Ngaa is no longer a playful nuisance, gentlemen. It has murdered twenty-seven people in a particularly disagreeable fashion. It could kill again at any moment, and we have no defense against it. It could be in this room, listening to every word we say. It could be reading our minds. Yes, I think it likely the creature reads minds. I think it can also project images, make us see things that aren't there. No, doctor, we must snatch Richard Blade away from here, far away. Even Scotland may be too close.»
«I gather I am being taken off the case,» Ferguson said with ill-concealed resentment.
«At least for the time being,» J replied.
«And who will take my place?»
I said thoughtfully, «There is only one other man at all familiar with the ways of the Ngaa. Dr. Saxton Colby.»
Ferguson sniffed. «Colby? I understood he'd been drummed out of the corps for conduct unbecoming to a savior.»
Lord Leighton chuckled, but J said, «Quite so, old chap, but all the same he's the man we need. He's had more experience with the Ngaa than any of us, and he's had time to think about it. I daresay he's come to some interesting conclusions.»
Lord Leighton put in, «Hmm, whatever happened to old Colby? Where did he go?»
«I've made an educated guess, as it were,» J answered, then he pointed to the telephone on Ferguson's desk with his pipestem. «If I'm right, that phone should ring any time now.»
«What nonsense,» Ferguson snorted. «That phone won't… «
The phone rang.
Ferguson snatched it up. «Dr. Ferguson speaking! You want to talk to J?»
He handed over the receiver, muttering softly.
«This is J speaking. You remember me?»
A familiar voice sounded in J's ear, somewhat distorted but clearly recognizable. «Of course I do, sir. Did you have your agents track me down?»
«No, I didn't, Dr. Colby,» said J, amused. «Ma Bell-as the Americans call her-found you for me. I thought you'd moved to Berkeley, California because of your daughter, you see. I had our telephone operator call Berkeley information, and there was your name, no doubt, in the Berkeley telephone book.»
Colby had a deep, well-modulated voice that his patients must have found soothing. «So you know about my daughter?»
«Dr. MacMurdo told me the whole story.»
«Then you're probably doubly glad to be rid of me, knowing I'm not only depraved but a raving lunatic.» Beneath
Colby's bantering was an undertone of deep, long-nurtured resentment.
«Not at all, doctor. In fact, as far as I'm concerned, you're completely vindicated.»
There was a long silence, then Colby said, «Isn't it a bit late? I've built up a new life for myself here. I couldn't come back to England and work for you again even if I wanted to, and I'm not sure I do. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, sir, but… «He broke off. He had sounded ungrateful indeed. J thought, I can't blame him, of course. I would have felt the same way. When Colby continued, it was with a new tone, a tone of suspicion and a dawning apprehension. «This long distance call must be costing you a pretty penny, sir. Perhaps you'd better come to the point. Why did you phone me?»
«I've seen your daughter.»
«Jane?»
«Yes.»
«In London?»
«Yes.»
«My daughter is dead, sir. She died a long time ago, here in Berkeley.» The apprehension was open now, a genuine fear.
«I know. Nevertheless I saw her.»
«I've studied this matter for many years, sir. Once I thought, as you do, that I saw her, but now I've become convinced that what I thought was her was something else, something pretending to be her, not a ghost, but something far more dangerous.»
«I quite agree,» J said.
Suddenly, impulsively, Dr. Colby burst out, «I've changed my mind. I am coming to London. I must come!»
«That will not be necessary, Doctor Colby. We would like to come to you, bringing-ah-Jane with us. We will need a room for-er-someone, a room with a lock on the door and, if possible, a fence around the building.»
«I understand perfectly. As it happens, sir, I am still plying my trade. I have a small private sanitarium here in the Berkeley hills, in an old mansion that once functioned as an exclusive ballet school. We have locks on the doors and a high wire-mesh fence. No one has ever left without my permission.»
«Excellent. We'll hop a jet and see you in a few hours.»
«I'll meet you at the airport.»
«That will be most kind of you, doctor. And could you bring an ambulance with facilities for restraining an-er-unruly patient?»
«We have such a vehicle.»
«I'll have Copra House phone you our ETA. Goodbye, Colby, and thank you for forgiving us.»
A moment later J was on the line to Copra House, arranging for the flight.
This done, he turned to Ferguson and said, «I want Richard Blade unconscious until we are in the air, and I mean out cold. Do you understand? If he got rough on the way to the airport, I'm not certain we could handle him.»
The fat man nodded. «He can sleep his way across the Atlantic, if you wish.»
«Make that all the way to California, if you can do it without harming him,» said J.
«He'll be all right.» Ferguson lurched to his feet and waddled toward the door. «Do you want some tranquilizer for Mrs. Smythe-Evans?»
J stood up with a grunt. «Zoe doesn't like drugs.»
Ferguson paused in the doorway to pass a wink to Lord Leighton. «Well, well,» chortled the psychiatrist. «So it's Zoe already, is it? The old rascal hasn't wasted much time getting on a first-name basis, has he?»