Skylock by Paul Kozerski Read Free Book Online Page B

more than just wasted dollars and a lost cause if this comes to light.
    "The world court is always looking to make public examples of covert actions detrimental to the Manna Project—let alone what might be considered an entire secret society like ours."
    Clausen spoke up. "If we're really committed to this program, we can't allow either possibility. Until the opportunity presents itself for an organized election or some chance for us to replace him with a more agreeable successor, the man is in power indefinitely. We need to face the plain fact: If Warrington can't be brought in, he needs to be diverted."
    "How?"
    "By any means required."
    "And what do you suggest, lock the President of the United States in his room like some naughty little boy?"
    Clausen's blue eyes iced over. "If it can be done simply that way, yes. If not, whatever it takes."
    The implication smothered further talk.
    Outside the debate to this point, Corealis' eyes rose slowly in the heavy silence. Looking back, Quinsel gave voice to the wall of flushed faces encircling the director.
    "Royce? What do you say? You've spearheaded this project from day one. How do you call it?"
    "Yes," Shields chimed in. "You know him better than the rest of us. You're the only one who he's ever gotten close to. Is he actually serious about this nonsense?"
    The director nodded soberly.
    "Blame me. There simply wasn't enough busywork to keep him occupied. It left him with too much free time on his hands. All his reading and radio room eavesdropping seemed a harmless enough diversion and it kept him from being underfoot. Who could've guessed where it would lead?"
    "So, we have no alternative then," said Shields, spreading upturned palms and walking away. "No matter how close we are to the end, for the sake of our own skins we'd better just pull the plug on the program here and now, count our blessings, and not look back."
    "And what about the country club members?" added another voice. "What do we do with them?"
    "Same thing that's been planned all along. Parcel off the team and bury them in isolated labs."
    "Uh-uh. That was the plan only once the work was successful. Think it over. If we abandon this thing now, we'd have a handful of people thought dead for three years just reappear. Regardless of where we put them, word would get out. Sure, we can stop, all right. But we can't quit."
    There Corealis finally entered the fray. "The first thing we do is keep our heads," he declared. "It's a matter of finding some quick means to get and keep the upper hand in this problem. And we start by forgetting our individual emotions and remembering our pledge—to the project and each other."
    His tone braced the group's flagging mettle.
    "Okay, Royce," agreed Clausen. "What do we do?"
    "The same as was planned all along. We let the team finish up their work. In the meantime, we make preparations for the close-down of the base."
    Thom Ashton, the team physician, up to now removed from the discussion, spoke up.
    "Once again, from a purely medical point of view, I vigorously emphasize the need for an immediate removal of the station personnel—regardless of how close to finishing up they are."
    Marquart looked over impatiently. "You're not going to drag on again about their sniffles, are you, Thom?"
    The medic kept an even tone in spite of the familiar antagonism.
    "Minimize the situation if you like, Brad, but my primary responsibility has been to ensure the project's success by maintaining the physical and mental well-being of its researchers, not to mention their basic value as human beings."
    The doctor's eyes moved accusingly about the room.
    "I also remind everyone here that it's been anything but an easy chore monitoring those people long distance, like I've had to do. A smattering of periodic saliva dabs and respiratory felts is no way to do business.
    "That research team has been working with very potent plant toxins out there. Their so-called 'sniffles,' Brad,