Rick Brant - The Electronic Mind Reader Part 15

"If he is hidden." Rick said the words before he even thought.

"What do you mean, Rick? No one outside the family or the project knows of his presence!" Julius Weiss exclaimed.

Steve held up his hand. "Hold it a minute. We'll get to that point in its proper turn."

Hartson Brant picked up the threads again. "We will a.s.sume for the moment that Steve's statement is correct, and that hiding Dr. Morrison was a preventative. I know Steve doesn't accept this fully, but we must use a.s.sumptions since we have no facts of consequence. If the a.s.sumption is correct, then we have to accept the fact that enemy agents are interested in the project. And we must also accept that they have some means of creating a mental block by remote control."

Rick stole a glance at Parnell Winston. The cyberneticist was sitting quietly, his bushy eyebrows knitted thoughtfully. Winston hadn't said a word.

Hartson Brant paced the floor as he went on. "We now have one slight bit of additional information that supports the theory of enemy interference. You are all aware of what happened to Dr. Marks this morning. He is in the hands of Constantine Chavez, who is in touch with the physicians in charge of the other team members. Dr. Chavez is of the opinion that Dr. Marks' mental injury was caused by physical means, although he cannot say how. He also states, although there seems to be no connection with the mental injury, that Marks was drugged."

Parnell Winston spoke for the first time. "Steve, if Chavez says Marks was drugged, we can accept it. How could it have happened?"

Steve spread his hands in a gesture that seemed to Rick to indicate embarra.s.sment. "I have gone over every step of the journey with Tom Dodd. The answer is yes. Thanks to Marks' bullheadedness, and a clerical error, there was an opportunity for an enemy to get at him on the train."

The scientists waited, obviously wanting to know more. Steve elaborated. "Marks was covered by one of our men at every moment, even while he was working at the Bureau of Standards, and while he was at his apartment. The agents ate and drank the same things. Nothing has happened to them. However, when the reservations were made for the train trip, Marks specified that he wanted a bedroom. He got one, and Tom Dodd got the one next door."

"Why did Marks want to travel by train overnight, anyway?" Scotty demanded. "That's getting from Was.h.i.+ngton to Newark the hard way."

"I told you he was stubborn," Steve reminded. "Tom tried to talk him out of it but failed. After all, the project team members aren't prisoners. We can't use force, and we can't order them to do anything.

Marks wanted to go overnight by train because he always traveled that way, he said. He insisted."

Dr. Morrison said sadly, "I a.s.sure you that he is not an easy man to get along with sometimes. But we must remember that he is--or was--an extremely competent scientist. Competence like his can be forgiven many eccentricities."

"Thanks to his eccentricities, we've also lost his competence," Julius Weiss pointed out. "Go on, Steve."

"Right. Well, Tom specified bedrooms A and B, and by the time he got the reservations and found that he had actually received bedrooms B and C, it was too late to change because the train was sold out."

"I can't see what difference that made," Rick objected.

"You will. People often buy connecting bedrooms on a train, and that's what Tom had done. He planned to keep the connecting door open and remain awake all night with an eye on Marks. However, while A and B connect, B and C do not. Do I make myself clear?"

"I think so," Rick agreed. "The connecting bedrooms come in pairs, A-B, C-D, and so on."

"That's it. Well, Tom ran a fast check on the person who had received bedroom D, and found it was a Baltimore businessman who often traveled on the same train, going overnight to New York. So Tom didn't worry about it. Instead, he kept his bedroom door open so he could watch the corridor. He says he didn't sleep at all, and I believe him. He's one of my best agents. The occupant of Bedroom D came on the train at Baltimore and went right to bed. The night pa.s.sed quietly, until it was time to get Marks up. Tom had great trouble waking him up, and he was groggy until this strange effect hit him. Rick and Scotty know.

They were there."

The boys shuddered, remembering Marks' condition.

"But where did the opportunity to drug him come in?" Weiss asked.

"We've done some fast checking on every possible angle," Steve said quietly, "and we've found a couple of interesting things. First of all, the man who reserved Bedroom D is in a Baltimore hospital. He was struck by a hit-and-run car as he walked from his office to the railroad station. Obviously, he was struck deliberately. He's in critical condition."

"Then the man on the train..." Rick gasped.

"Yes. Who was the man on the train? We don't know. We've had our Boston office go over the room, and they've turned up no fingerprints except those of the porter who cleaned up after the train left New York. The room was wiped clean. But our Boston men also found an interesting spot on the rug. They had a sample a.n.a.lyzed, and so far as we can determine, it's a kind of water-soluble salt paste often used by doctors when they take electrocardiograms."

The group leaned forward, interested. Rick knew the kind of stuff Steve meant, because he had once watched Zircon getting an electrocardiogram. The big scientist had fainted from sheer overwork, and possible heart complications were suspected. The technician squeezed the paste from a tube and applied it to wrists, ankles, and chest, under the metal terminals of the machine. Its purpose was to allow a better electrical contact.

Julius Weiss demanded excitedly, "Steve, do you imply that this unknown person took an electrocardiogram of Marks' heart responses?"

The JANIG agent shrugged. "I imply nothing. I'm merely reporting."

Again Parnell Winston spoke. "Perhaps I can shed some light on this.

It's true that such an electropaste is used to make better connections for electrocardiograms. But perhaps of greater importance for this discussion, it is also used in making electroencephalograms."

Rick and Scotty spoke in unison. "What?"

Winston turned to them. "It's a long word, but not a difficult one.

_Electro_ for electrical. _Encephalo_ is simply a Greek form meaning 'the brain.' _Gram_, also from the Greek, means something drawn or written. A record, if you like. So an electroencephalogram is simply an electrical recording of the brain."

"That may be significant," Hartson Brant said thoughtfully. "But, a.s.suming an enemy could get an EEG--which is the handy way of saying electroencephalogram, Rick and Scotty--what would he do with it?"

Parnell Winston rose. "Hartson, I think you can conduct the rest of this without me. I have an extraordinary notion whirling around in my head that I'd like to discuss with Chavez. I'll pick up the car at the pier and drive over, if you don't mind. And by the way, Steve, can JANIG get some information for me?"

"We can try."

"Good. I want to know if the two team scientists who were stricken first had EEG's made after the attack. I would also like to check their medical history, as completely as possible, to find out if EEG's were ever taken while they were normal."

"I'll give the orders right away," Steve agreed. "I don't know what we can turn up on their early medical history, but we can try."

Parnell Winston departed. Rick almost wished he had asked permission to accompany Winston, but there was more to be said here, too.

"The evidence is not conclusive," Hartson Brant summed up, "but it is certainly strong enough to warrant a clear a.s.sumption: we have an enemy who, by unknown means, can inflict brain damage."

"All right. Now for some loose ends." Steve looked at the boys. "Rick and Scotty turned up a barber in Whiteside. It happened they had first seen him in the project office building in Was.h.i.+ngton, so they got his name and called. We were already checking on the barber, and knew he was in Whiteside. We'll dig deeper until we know more about him than he does. But for now, our information indicates he is just what he claims to be. He got the job in Whiteside legitimately. He had planned to take a new job for a long time. So far as we can tell, he's as innocent as a woolly little lamb."

"Just the same," Rick said stoutly, "I'm not satisfied. I'd like to get some more dope on that ma.s.sage machine of his. Especially after what Dr. Winston said."

Steve grinned. "Why don't you?"

Rick and Scotty looked at each other, and rose to the challenge. "We will," they stated flatly.

Steve nodded. "All right. You're known in Whiteside and my men are not. An influx of strangers, or even one inquisitive stranger, would attract attention. But that's not all. I have another job for you, too."

They waited eagerly.

"I want a survey of the area. My Boy Scout team can help somewhat, but they're strangers, too, even though they have an explanation for their presence. Scan the area for anything suspicious. Get your newspaper pals on the job and have them sniff around for evidence of any strange folks in the area. They can do it easily."

"We'll do it," Rick agreed. There was nothing hard about looking for strangers in their own territory. He knew exactly how to go about it.

"All right. Search for strangers. Get your pals on the job, but do it without tipping anything off. That State Police captain you've worked with will be a big help, too. You can tell him national security is involved, but that's all."

"At least we're not working entirely in the dark any more," Dr.

Morrison said wearily. "Even if the a.s.sumption of an enemy is wrong, it's something to go on."

Rick stood up. The conference apparently was at an end.