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"Angelique Montagne?"
She grew suddenly wary again, as Paula Mochka came in with a platter holding a
bowl of soup and some sliced fruit. She didn't feel hungry, but she was very
weak and knew she had to eat something.
"Yes," she replied, as Paula fed her some soup from a spoon. "How did you
know?"
"Art Cadell," the doctor explained, "does not exist. It's one of several
hundred names used to identify the origin of anyone just happening on a place
like this. We verified that MacDonald gave it in conversation to Miss
Montagne, so she must have given it to you. The only question left is whether
she gave it voluntarily or involuntarily."
The soup had some effect, and she began to feel a little better inside. She
wasn't dumb, either, and the implications of all this were most interesting.
If they checked on the origin of Cadell, they had to check with MacDonald
himself and they would hardly use long distance communications, which went by
satellite these days, to do it. Not if they were on the other side.
"She gave it to me," Maria told him. "I don't know any way to prove that,
though. We escaped together, but she didn't come all the way. She's waiting
for a rescue now, I hope, but she won't wait much longer."
"Indeed? Why don't you tell me your story? All the details?"
She managed a slight smile. "How do I know which side you're on?"
"Fair enough. You don't. And, the fact is, we've expected company here for
some time, but not of your type. We felt the place was compromised, but we
wished to see who or what would show up or what sort of surveillance would be
placed on it. I've been spending the summer here, just waiting and
incidentally finishing up my book on unique south Caribbean value systems.
Not, I
don't hesitate to say, soon to be a best seller, but it will save my chair at
Northwestern. We'd almost given up hope that this would pay off at all, and
now here you are. I'd say you should tell us what the whole story is simply
because you have no choice. Either we are friends who can help you, or we are
enemies in whose power you now are and who can get anything from you we wish
by other means, or, if you're no use, we can simply shove you out the door,
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naked, penniless, on a remote little island with a population of under four
thousand and a per capita income of about eight hundred dollars a year. So,
let's hear the story."
And she told him, starting with her arrival at the Institute, and she spared
nothing in detail, not even her encounters with the Dark Man and her
fear-induced conversion to his use. He broke in only occasionally, asking a
question or two, but mostly let her speak her piece. He was particularly
interested in anything she could give him on the Dark Man himself, which was
very little.
Angelique's transformation fascinated him, but he did not question it. He was,
however, quite concerned about the thrust of the attack on her core identity.
"They are trying to reduce her to the basic primitive emotional, not
rational, living half or more in the metaphysical realm. Her lack of real life
experience makes her very vulnerable to this sort of thing. When they break
her, they then plan to slowly build her back up the way they want her to be. I
am, however, apprehensive at the ease of her escape when she is so central to
them. I
fear that this may not be a victory so much as part of the process."
"Ease! I'll tell you, it wasn't easy!"
"But it was. A complex like that would have constant watches on someone so
important. Now consider the result. She has been forced more and more into
using the metaphysical
their way
to survive, and every time she does she becomes more and more like them. She
has killed not only under their control, but of her own free will and thought
nothing of it. After years of powerlessness, she has felt the heady wine of
physical and metaphysical power.''
"Then it was all for nothing?" Maria felt crushed by the idea.
"Perhaps. Perhaps they have overplayed their hand. They are quite adept at
doing that, believe me. Until now, we have been relatively powerless, helpless
onlookers. This is the break we prayed for, but it is a dangerous game. She is
the key to their plans, and she is now exposed."
Maria felt a surge of energy. "Then you'll rescue her?"
"We will try, of course. You see, we still operate under a handicap in that we
don't really know their ultimate goals, only that she is a key player in their
scheme. Whoever controls her controls something of the game. She will not only
have to be gotten, she will have to be removed far from here as quickly as
possible. Think of it as a game of chess. Both sides are playing, their side
is winning, but there is only one queen. They have elected to jeopardize that
queen in the hopes of greater gains. Our highest percentage move is to remove
the queen from play, thus making their winning strategy impossible."
"Doctor can you tell me this? Is this really some kind of black magic, some
horrible thing from the supernatural, or is it science gone mad? Are we
dealing with men and machines whose power and knowledge is so great that they
fool themselves as well as us? Or is this truly the devil's own work?"
"I wish I knew. Both God and the devil have been quite content to work through
humans most of the time, so the answer to that question may in fact be
irrelevant. Many definitions of magic are based upon the idea that magic is
anything the onlookers do not know or understand. The line is not clear, and
we argue about it constantly, but the truth is that they can do what they
claim to be able to do. They can materialize monsters to kill, they can
bewitch and curse, and they can change the aspects and affect the wills of
other people. Give me the identity of the Dark Man, and perhaps I can give you
an answer. Perhaps." He paused a moment. "How do you feel?"
"Lousy," she told him. "But I am up to whatever is necessary."
He nodded. "Good girl. Now could you find your way back to where you left
her?"
The question startled her. Until now, she had never thought of this not
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inconsiderable problem.
"I I don't know. I
shouldn't be able to, but somehow I think I might. I can't explain it, and I
can't know if I'm right until I do it."
He nodded again and glanced at his watch. "It's now close to one in the
morning. Dawn is about three hours away. Use the time to gather what strength
you can. Paula has found something for you to wear not much, I fear, and
probably not quite the right size, but it's a slip-on dress that will give you
a little protection." He got up. "I must go out and make some preparations.
We've had something set up on a contingency basis, if only to move you rapidly
away, but now we have to activate it. We should leave as soon as possible."
After he left, she got up, and discovered just how weak she really was. Still,
with Paula's help, she made it into the bathroom. She wanted to shower if she
could, to wash off the last of the sweat and grime and sand, and she managed
it. Standing there, toweling herself off, she looked at herself in the mirror.
She was tanned unevenly but quite darkly, and there were spots where flecks
of dead skin were peeling off. The spell had held; it was still a young,
pretty face that stared back at her, the face of a teen-ager.
If only they could somehow win, the mirror promised a whole new life, a total
new chance. For the first time she realized that the spell was more specific,
more personal, than a mere gift of youth. This was the face and body that
she'd had the day she'd made her terribly wrong choice on what to do with her
life. This was Maria just before the Fall.
Neither the doctor nor Paula would be coming. A couple of big, black,
musclebound men rowed her out from a point well north of the town and took her
in silence to the looming hulk of a good sized fishing trawler. The crew
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