FullReads

“Sorry, Mr. Karnes,” said the man at the transceiver, “but we’ve already let one man get away.”

Karnes nodded. “I know. Pure blind luck that his suit was almost the same shade as that gray uniform you guys wear, or he’d never have got away with it. All he needed was the jacket and cap.”

“Have any idea which way he went?”

The cop shrugged. “He came up here and told us that three men had been shot down below and some more gassed. He said Mr. Lansberg had sent him for a hospital call. Then he jumped in a ‘copter with Powers and headed northeast. We didn’t pay much attention. After all, he was wearing a sergeant’s stripes.”

Northeast. That would be toward Long Island. But, naturally, he would circle; he wouldn’t be dumb enough to head in the right direction until he was out of sight. Or would he?

“Get on that radio again,” he told the radioman, “–and tell them I want that man alive. Get that– alive! “

“Right.” The officer switched on his microphone and began to talk.

Karnes pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes in an attempt to concentrate. With Lansberg shot up, that put the Brittain case in his hands. Theoretically, he should be pumping the prisoners down below to find out how much higher the spy ring went.

* * * * *

But his real interest lay in Brittain, himself. There was no doubt that he had received another message from the impressor before he had thrown it down.

Evidently, when the thing broke, the unknown energies which powered it had short-circuited, paralyzing everyone in the room with their mind-impressing effect.

Then why hadn’t it affected Brittain? Perhaps his recent exposure to a normal dosage had immunized him. There was no way of knowing–there never would be.

But what was the message Brittain had received from the impressor that would make him react so violently? It couldn’t be the same one that he, Karnes, had received.

Continued on Stratum Two!

Sure; that was it! Like the pages in a book. He, himself, had been hit with page one; Brittain had page two. Page three? Lost forever.

Why hadn’t they found that ‘copter by now? It ought to be easy enough to spot.

He walked over to the edge of the building and looked down. The police were herding the prisoners into the ground cars. Presently, they were gone. One of the police officers touched his shoulder.

“Ready to go, Mr. Karnes?”

Karnes nodded and climbed into the ‘copter. The machine lifted and headed toward the Central Police Station.

He was still trying to think when the phone rang. The policeman picked it up.

“3217. Brown speaking. Oh? Yeah, just a second. It’s for you, Mr. Karnes.”

Karnes took the instrument. “Karnes speaking.”

“Radio Central, Mr. Karnes,” came the voice. “We just got some more on Brittain. About ten minutes ago, he abandoned the police ‘copter. Officer Powers was in the seat, shot through the head. We’ll get the essobee on a murder rap, now.”

“Where was the ‘copter abandoned?”

Radio Central told him and went on: “Funny thing was, he didn’t try to hide it or anything. And he stole another ‘copter from a private citizen. We’re trying to get the description now. I’ll call you if anything further comes in.”

“Fine.” Karnes hung up. The address where Brittain had left the ‘copter was in almost a direct line between the apartment building and Long Island Spaceport. But if Brittain were actually heading there, why should he leave such a broad and obvious trail?

He turned to the officer who was driving the ‘copter.

“I’ve got a hunch. Swivel this thing around and head for Long Island. I’ve got a funny feeling that Brittain will be there. He–“

The phone rang again, and Karnes grabbed it.

“Mr. Karnes, we’ve found that civilian’s ‘copter! It’s at Long Island Spaceport! Just a second, the stuff’s still coming in.” Pause. “Get this: A man answering to Brittain’s description bought a ticket for the West Coast rocket.