Randall Garrett by What the Left Hand Was Doing

Author:What the Left Hand Was Doing
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2012-02-22T12:28:42+00:00

* * *

Spencer Candron knew that time was running out, but he had to force Ch’ien into the right position before he could act. He wished again that he had been able to keep the cigarettes. Ch’ien was a moderately heavy smoker, and one of those drugged cigarettes would have come in handy now. As it was, he had to handle it differently. And that meant a different approach.

“No, Dr. Ch’ien,” he said, in a voice that was deliberately too smooth, “I will not sit down, thank you. I would prefer that you stand up.”

The physicist’s face became a frozen mask. “I see that the doctorate you claim is not for studies in the field of physics. You’re not here to worm things out of me by discussing my work talking shop. What is it, Doctor Wan?”

“I am a psychologist.” Candron said. He knew that the monitors watching the screens and listening to the conversation were recording everything. He knew that they shouldn’t be suspicious yet. But if the real General Soong should decide to check on what his important guest was doing….

“A psychologist,” Ch’ien repeated in a monotone. “I see.”

“Yes. Now, will you stand, or do I have to ask the guards to lift you to your feet?”

James Ch’ien recognized the inevitable, so he stood. But there was a wary expression in his black eyes. He was not a tall man; he stood nearly an inch shorter than Candron himself.

“You have nothing to fear, Dr. Ch’ien,” Candron said smoothly. “I merely wish to test a few of your reactions. We do not wish to hurt you.” He put his hands on the other man’s shoulders, and positioned him. “There,” he said. “Now. Look to the left.”

“Hypnosis, eh?” Ch’ien said with a grim smile. “All right. Go ahead.” He looked to his left.

“Not with your head,” Candron said calmly. “Face me and look to the left with your eyes.”

Ch’ien did so, saying: “I’m afraid you’ll have to use drugs after all, Dr. Wan. I will not be hypnotized.”

“I have no intention of hypnotizing you. Now look to the right.”

Ch’ien obeyed.

Candron’s right hand was at his side, and his left hand was toying with a button on his coat. “Now up,” he said.

Dr. James Ch’ien rolled his eyeballs upward.

Candron had already taken a deep breath. Now he acted. His right hand balled into a fist and arced upwards in a crashing uppercut to Ch’ien’s jaw. At almost the same time, he jerked the button off his coat, cracked it with his fingers along the special fissure line, and threw it to the floor.

As the little bomb spewed forth unbelievable amounts of ultra-finely divided carbon in a dense black cloud of smoke, Candron threw both arms around the collapsing physicist, ignoring the pain in the knuckles of his right hand. The smoke cloud billowed around them, darkening the room and obscuring the view from the monitor screens that were watching them. Candron knew that the guards were acting now; he knew that

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