Robert Moore Williams

“ A little man with the face of a rat entered the cell and the others withdrew. Rat-face was the interrogator. Obviously Rat-face had had vast experience with political prisoners. He knew all the questions to ask and all the torture methods. Holder dimly wondered what tales the walls of this tiny, barren cell could tell if they had the ability to speak.
"Where is Nocher?"
"In hell, I hope."
"Ah!"
"I did it," Holder said. "I confess everything. I destroyed Nocher. I eliminated the commandant. All I ask is that you shoot me, at once." ”

“ Holder grinned and was silent. Sometimes he wondered if he understood it all himself. All he knew was that a body could be disintegrated, by pure mental force.
The jeep shifted into high gear. At the end of this journey, a plane would be waiting. This would take them to America.... Home.... There a whole new world of exploration waited for him. The very best research teams the country possessed would be at his disposal, the keenest brains, the sharpest minds. Hugging the kids to him, he smiled quietly to himself. ”

“ The water reached his nose and flowed downward into his lungs.
Within a minute, at most, the level of the water would be hastily lowered. After he was revived he would be given a chance to tell what he knew. If he still proved obstinate, the process would be repeated. But Holder did not know this.
Some prisoners had withstood repeated duckings only to be drowned in the end. Most told everything they knew after the first treatment.
Inside him, John Holder knew that the human body was only a mental construction. Only the strength of an idea held flesh and bones and blood together. ”

“ He knew beyond a doubt that this correlated with his ability to disintegrate Nocher. The next problem would be to test the process, in secret, and discover its limits, if any. Did it have any limits? A body, flesh, bone, blood, had gone—like that. He went from the table to his desk. With a knowledge that the TV camera was watching every move he made, he pretended to be busy studying a sheaf of reports on the experiment in progress. From the back of his desk, a photograph with three smiling faces looked at him—Marie and Johnny and Teresa. His wife and their two kids. ”

“ Rumor had it that in the days when he had acted as an executioner, he had used this knife to slit the throats of his victims. He did not bother to be polite to a mere scientist. They were dogs to be used for the benefit of the state.
"You were the last one to see Nocher," the commandant said.
"The last one to see him?" Holder questioned. "I do not understand. Is he dead?"
"I will ask the questions, you will answer them," the commandant stated. "What happened to Nocher?" He was so sure of his power that he did not bother to play his usual game of cat and mouse. ”

“ Holder answered. "If I fall down, I'll never get up. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in this kind of a world, where you will become the plaything of barracks soldiers. Do you want—"
"John!"
"Do you want the kids to be raised as wards of the state, where they will be conditioned into accepting the idea that this world is right?" Holder gestured toward the windows.
Marie's face revealed mute agony. "N-no. But—isn't there some other way?"
"Sure," the scientist said. He set the kids on the floor. ”

“ Holder said quickly.
"It—it—" Her lips twisted and a choking movement started in her throat. "How can you say it's only a word when it's the most real fact in our existence right now?"
"Is death a fact, or is it another human delusion?" the scientist asked.
"John!" Her eyes were fixed on him with terrible intensity.
"I'm not nuts," he said. "The men outside setting up the machine guns are the ones who are crazy, not me." Deep inside he was quite sure he meant what he had said.
"What are they going to do with the guns, daddy?" Johnny asked.
"Guns, daddy," Teresa echoed. ”

“ The rat face revealed mixed pleasure and chagrin. Prisoners were supposed to confess. But not so quickly. Rat-face felt cheated. He enjoyed torturing the helpless.
"What about your wife? Did you destroy her too?"
"Yes."
"And your children?"
"Yes."
Rat-face counted on nicotine-stained fingers. "That makes you five times a killer."
"Yes. Shoot me," Holder begged. The agony inside him was growing deeper. Visions of Teresa going away danced before his eyes. What had he actually done to her? ”