Fraser urges us to enter the light of electromagnetic rays! If our body enters the rays completely, we will be pulled from the platform and fall to death, sucked onto the sand below and destroyed.

In my ear, I heard Fraser's prank chuckle. "The fear instinct still exists, doesn't it? My essence will destroy your clear mind, but not your inner fear? Husband! Fool! But I won't push you away. Look!" He stepped on his foot The other lever, although it did not turn off any lights, seemed to deflect the light. "Fool!" he said contemptuously again. "Go down!"

Great hen, this is what I saw him sending to us! At 30 feet below the platform, there is a small wooden house, which is fixed by cables and reached by a rotating steel ladder. When I watched a door on the roof slide back. "Climb down!" Order Fraser again. There is no other way but to obey. When I was accustomed to flying, I was accustomed to high insurance. When I turned from the trap door and felt myself standing on the rotating ladder, my head rose and my hands became cold. Suppose Frazier turns the light back on us when we climb down? Suppose he cut the ladder? But my wisdom told me at once that he would do nothing. If he were going to kill us, he could have done it easier than this. No, somewhere in his crazy mind, he has reason to send us to this swinging hut.

Five minutes later, Follett and I stared at each other in the cramped prison. The roof door we fell off closed. The steel ladder has been pulled up. We are alone. alone? Are there no eyes watching us, or no ears listening to what we might say? Apparently shared my sense of spying because he didn't even look at me, lying on the hard floor of our bare cabin, and fell asleep for all intents and purposes.

I stood for a few minutes, stared at him, and followed his example. When I relaxed, I realized that I was very tired. The accumulated exhaustion of the past 36 hours seems to make me feel depressed and suffocating. I looked at my watch and then wound it. five o'clock. Through the narrow gap near the roof of our rotating unit, I can see the changing light of dawn, melting with the rosy glow of the light. My eyelids are severely drooping.

When I woke up, standing by my side, his arms crossed his chest, frowning thoughtfully. When he saw me opening his eyes, he nodded, but when I started talking, he shook his head. His gesture reminded me of the feeling of being watched, even through the walls of the air prison and the floor of the platform above.

I sat up, clenched my knees with my hands, and leaned against the wall. For us, there must be a way out! I have been studying the theory all my life: if you think hard enough, there is no difficult way out. But this seems hopeless! No matter how hard we think Frazier's crazy mind is always one step ahead of us! Maybe we dare not even think about it! If Fraser can read the thoughts, I can almost say that he is, then should we better not keep thinking blank here? But the momentary thoughts showed me the flaws in my logic. Fraser can read thoughts without a doubt-when those thoughts are very close to him. If he can read thoughts from a distance, he does not need to ask us for information.

But why does he put us here? I looked around for answers. Does he guess that we have beaten the Doctor and did not take the crazy essence at all, is this punishment? No, if Frazier guessed he would give us more serum like Brice. Bryce! Where is poor Bryce now? Is he an idiot, with a fair face, and shiny and merciless eyes? My mind trembled from thinking and avoided my first question: Why are we here? What does it have to do with us?

We lost all our time. Although I was winding, my watch stopped and the time was uncountable. Night came, dawn again, night again. Twice, our roof was lifted, and our tiny swing room was filled with the orange light of nutrient rays. But we did not see anyone, nor did anyone speak to us. The third day passed in the same isolated silence. Occasionally or I will say a single syllable; our voice sounds very comfortable, and a single word is of little help to the listener.

But as the time of the third night slowly passed, the atmosphere in our tiny swinging room became tense. What will happen. I can feel it, and I know from Fowler's eyes that he also feels it. The air is tight and electrical. I lifted my toes and glued my eyes to the narrow gap. This is our only ventilation device. But I can't see anything. The brilliant rosy light made me invisible. I can't even see the huge platform floating above us.

Then, suddenly, our roof slid back. The magnetic wire is deflected. Above us, the opening of the trapdoor made Fraser's bright and crazy eyes circle around.

"Good evening." He laughed. "What do you think?" We smiled hesitantly. His voice made me feel that he was addressing us as despicable people rather than idiots. but why? Shouldn't we be idiots when he put us there?

"You should feel pretty good," Fraser commented. He added: "The first dose of the serum only lasts three days. It is cumulative." "In the beginning, it was injected every three days, then once a week, and so on. There was a man with me for three days. Years, only need one treatment every three months. So, are you ready to speak?"

I hope so! He has put us here until the expected effect of that serum disappears. Now we are going to talk; tell him that his agents risked their lives to find everything! We want to sell the country to him. Betray all the secrets we keep forever! If we act according to his requirements, then both France and the United States will receive his mercy, but he has no mercy! He is not a man. He is a cruel, scientific machine that loves power. I gritted my teeth. I will never speak! I vowed to protect the secrets of the country for life-my vows will continue!

"Can you talk?" Fraser asked again, his voice suddenly softened and pleading. "For those who speak, there are rewards."

"Put down the ladder," Flatt talked quietly. "It will be easier to discuss this-"

Fraser's eyes cracked. He smiled slyly. "When you speak, the ladder will be lowered."

"If you can," Fowler suggested, "we don't want to talk?"

Fraser's lips grinned. His white teeth gleamed. His shiny black eyes sparkled. In that warm, rosy light, he looked like a demon from hell. He stretched out his hand. It emits a slender instrument.

"This knife," he said softly, "will cut the wire rope that connects you to the platform as if they are cheese! Can you talk?" Beside me, I heard Follett panting heavily. My imagination quickly reminded people of our destiny. We resolutely refused to disclose the secrets of our respective countries; one of the four cables that fixed us to the platform was cut. List of swing rooms; tip, the last horrible drop of 2000 feet. But this is fast. The power of electromagnetic rays will give us no time to think-suffer pain. This will be a compassionate ending.

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