Free Prisoner of Fire by Edmund Cooper Page A

was not unaware of the extraordinary powers of Denzil Ingram. He was sorry for Dugal. But, in a matter of survival, the ancient law obtained:
sauve qui peut.
    Dugal knew what Dr. Lindemann was doing. But he did not want to see the needle. It was natural. The effect of the injection had been explained to him—aswell as it is possible to explain a complicated biochemical process to a small child.
    He knew that he was going to get a shot of a wonder drug called Amplia Nine. Dr. Lindemann had told him that it would make him feel full of energy, full of life, that it would destroy tiredness and make him feel that he could do anything he wanted to do.
    What Dr. Lindemann had not told him was that Amplia Nine—a spin-off from hallucinogenic research—would temporarily amplify his mental talents. Also Dr. Lindemann neglected to inform him that this short-term magnification of his natural abilities would eventually be paid for by the destruction of several million of his brain cells.
    Research has shown that one shot of Amplia Nine would reduce the Intelligence Quotient of an average person by five to seven points. A second shot would reduce it by eight to fifteen points. A third shot would produce, in the end, a moron.
    “Well, Dugal?”
    “I’m ready, Dr. Lindemann.” Dugal held out his arm, but still looked out through the window. “You promise it will help Vanessa?”
    “Yes, I promise.” Lindemann pressed the needle into the boy’s arm.
    Dugal flinched, but he did not complain.
    “For the next hour,” said Dr. Lindemann, “you will feel a little drowsy. But after that you will be wide awake and stronger than you have ever been before. When that happens, I want you to concentrate on reaching Vanessa. She may have blocks, but I don’t think they will bother you. I want you to go in deep and find out everything you can. Remember, we need to know where she is, we need to know if she is safe, we want to help her.”
    Dugalyawned. His arm was itching somewhat, but it did not seem to matter.
    “I’ll probe her,” he said. “But can I talk to her?”
    “Talk to her?”
    “Explain that we all want to help her.”
    Dr. Lindemann smiled. “Talk to her, by all means, Dugal. But remember that she may not believe what you say. Personally, I think that she has been very ill. The important thing is for you to remember everything. Do you understand?”
    Dugal yawned once more. “I understand, Dr. Lindemann. But will Vanessa understand?”
    Professor Raeder was in a didactic mood. He confronted his small group of paranormals as if they were students in tutorial—which, perhaps, they were.
    But, such students! Quasimodo, childish, yet telepathically lethal; Janine, twenty years old and the oldest in the group, a voyeur nymphomaniac and a probe of quite exceptional powers; Alfred, seventeen, a raw-boned youth and an extrovert who could break almost any block or throw up a wall that would stop anyone, including Janine; Robert, eleven, whose powers of telepathic suggestion were, as far as Professor Raeder knew, unique; Sandra, nine, a telehypnotist of erratic brilliance.
    “As I see it,” said Professor Raeder, “the situation is of classic simplicity. It is a case of Mahomet and the mountain. We, collectively, are Mahomet, Vanessa Smith is the mountain. We must call her to come to us. We must use every means—persuasion, hypnotic suggestion, terror. We must build in her a compulsion to come to the Scottish Highlands. But, if that fails, we must be prepared to go to her. She is the burning glass we need. She is the one who can accept yourtransmissions and focus them into a tight beam. She is the one who will enable your combined talents to destroy this creature Humboldt. From now on, you will conduct an assault on Vanessa around the clock. It will be done in relays. Janine will weaken her—soften her up, I believe, is the phrase. Then Alfred will block undesirable contacts while Sandra and Robert combine to make her come to