“Sit down and make yourself comfortable,” Beffort warned. “Light a cigar. I have a long story to tell you…” He told him what he had been doing since he had got there, about Mie Azusa and his finger getting blown off, etc. The Boss listened without saying a word and Beffort wound up by telling him, “In short, I can’t count on anyone. I still have three or four days breathing space before I answer the call of alcohol and the problem has to be solved before this fateful deadline. I think that it’s time to send a telegram to Yosho Akamatsu.”

  “Already done,” the Boss snorted. “Yosho will be in Palm Springs this evening. I knew you would need him because an entire state doesn’t suddenly start drinking without Madame Atomos being mixed up in it somehow.”

  “Miss Atomos,” Beffort corrected.

  “Same thing,” the Boss checked. “By the way, how are you going to work with this girl?”

  “I don’t know yet. She’s not responsible for her actions…”

  The Boss let the silence drag on, weighing his thoughts, and said, “You’ll have a free hand, Smith, but try not to get yourself shot full of holes. This Mie Azusa is really pretty, so watch out, will you!”

  “Goodbye,” Beffort said, “my steak is getting cold.” He hung up, left the booth and sat at a table. He devoured his steak and drank water, finishing his meal with apple pie and two cups of coffee.

  Half an hour later he rented a De Soto. He had had to ask the waitress to cut his steak, but the automatic transmission would let him drive with one hand. On his way to the airport he witnessed four accidents and avoided a few himself by a hair’s breadth. The drivers had lost their reflexes after drinking, so getting around the city was as dangerous as hunting tigers with a shrimp net.

  Inside the airfield, they confirmed that the jet from New York would land in Palm Beach at 6:30 p.m. That left him a lot of time and he had no idea how to spend it. In fact, he could not really do anything before Mie Azusa’s next visit the following morning. Trying to find her in Pam Beach was as useless as looking for a grain of sugar in a bag of salt.

  Nevertheless, he had not forgotten that the house of the dead man in room 300 had mysteriously collapsed. Not looking for a link between this collapse and those that happened a few days earlier in Colorado was impossible. And of course it was the chief of police’s house. Of all people why was he the one with the stroke of bad luck?

  Beffort got back in the car and drove slowly back downtown. On the way he had to ask for information a few times but finally ended up in front of the Twain house. It looked like it had been sawed in half from top to bottom. It was not the kind of collapse he was expecting. It was exactly like a cheese cutter had sliced it right down the middle. The left part of the house was just a pile of ruins made of rocks, beams, shattered furniture and various objects heaped up in the yard. But the entire right side was intact from roof to foundation. Beffort walked around it and saw that two uniformed guards were on duty on both sides of the yard, which was fenced in by a low wall topped with a railing. They had not yet started the cleanup and probably would not do it any time soon. Twain, the owner of the house, had died at the Hilton and they had to find his heirs before starting anything.

  If Beffort was not sure that Twain had died instead of him, the victim of a tragic mix-up, he would have thought that they murdered him only in order to use his ramshackle house, henceforth uninhabitable.

  Beffort took one last look at the building and left. If he were less tired he would have delved into the matter more deeply and remembered that the late Madame Atomos loved to hide her destructive machines among ruins.

  Chapter V

  Behind the wheel of the De Soto Beffort cruised around Palm Beach all afternoon. Like that he got a little fresh air and could relax while getting a feel for the city. Apparently things were still heating up. It was nothing new now to see men lying dead drunk on the sidewalk. The worst was that no one paid any attention to them. Palm Beach was drifting away. Only the traffic lights on the street corners were still working normally. Of course the shops were open, but there were no customers and the personnel were entirely made up of the feminine persuasion. The men huddled together in the bars.

  Around 5 p.m. Beffort stopped on the seashore and got out. It was only when he lit his cigarette that he realized that no breeze was blowing ashore. The flame from the lighter stood straight up like a pole. The heat was oppressive. The sea as smooth as a pool table.

  The seagulls with their mouths opened were dying of thirst on top of the seawall. Beffort was sure that Florida had not seen a drop of rain in 15 days because when the seagulls suffered, a drought was at hand. He sat under a palm tree, took off his coat and loosened his tie. His hand was swollen and he had the feeling that some vital space was missing where his pinkie used to be. One thought led to another and he wondered about Mie Azusa and how she would act the next morning.

  At 6 p.m. he got back in the car and headed leisurely to the airport. He had no trouble finding parking and then he strolled over to the watch the runways. It was terribly hot. His tongue was welded to the top of his mouth, but he would not let himself drink because the only drink he wanted would have a strong dose of alcohol. It was the start of the irresistible craving that the country suffered from. Beffort was fully aware that he would finally cave in. He only hoped that it would be as late as possible.

  At 6:30 the plane from New York set down. Beffort spotted Akamatsu right away as he came down the steps with a group of passengers among whom he recognized two other faces. Beffort was not surprised that the Boss figured it would be good to send Witter and Cadogan to Palm Beach. The two G-men had already come up against Madame Atomos in Dallas and along with Akamatsu they made a strong commando team6.

  Beffort went to meet them.

  “Hello, Smith!” the Japanese said. “Ikasa deska?”

  “Not too well,” Beffort answered, shaking hands. “I suppose the Boss explained everything?”

  Witter smiled. “He advised us, above all else, to drink nothing but water.”

  “Follow his advice,” Beffort said. “When you see Dr. Soblen, you’ll understand that it’s no joke. He’s only been here for a couple of weeks, but when he gets back to New York he’s going to need to detox.”

  Akamatsu put his hand on his shoulder. “Tell us about Miss Atomos, Smith.”

  “I told the Boss pretty much everything, so you know as much as I do.”

  “We know that she had a nice chat with you in your room and she used you for target practice afterwards. We know that she practically forced Soblen to spend his vacation in Florida. All evidence suggests that her goal is to bring together in this chosen spot all those who were responsible for Madame Atomos’ defeat. From now on it’s a done deal, Smith! We’re all here, except for the Boss, and Miss Atomos only has to choose her weapons. When and how do you think she will strike?”

  Beffort led the little group to the parking lot. He raised his left hand and said, “It’s already done, Yosho. This morning she emptied almost her whole magazine at me at point blank range and I only lost a finger. Her plans could not have been very clear when I approached her. I think she followed an order that was fired off by the motor-brain, but her reflexes did not follow quite so spontaneously. She missed me even though I was practically a sitting duck. You see, Yosho, Mie Azusa is transformed into a robot when she becomes Miss Atomos. That’s why I don’t really believe in any violent action. The threat will be more subtle, after an insidious preparation, a conditioning of the population…” When they reached the De Soto, Beffort interrupted his interpretation to say to Witter, “Take the wheel, Eddie, I’ll show you the way.”

  Witter and Cadogan sat up front and Akamatsu and Beffort in the back. The three suitcases were put in the trunk. When the car started the Japanese asked, “Is there any doubt that the psychological attack you mentioned has begun?”

  “Men drink because the heat is insupportable. And yet they drink only alcohol! I can’t explain it but I’m beginning to feel the need myself. After drinking only water yesterday afternoon, I went out and tied one on last night. Today I’m back on water and coffee and my body is not happy about it…”

  Witter slammed on the brakes. A truck flew through a red light at full speed and disappeared to the sound of screeching metal. “Good God!” Witter was pale. “He nearly swiped us!”

  “Drive slowly,” Beffort advised, “and keep an eye on your rear-view mirror. Everyone’s drunk in Palm Beach except for the women. But don’t go thinking that the weaker sex doesn’t have a vice. Here both young and old are totally crazy about a thing called the baby rattlesnake.”

  “So that’s it!” Cadogan’s voice rose. “Since the layover in Jacksonville we’ve seen a bunch of those snakes that the women were wearing as bracelets or necklaces. Just between us, it’s not the kind of jewelry that I’d give to a woman. The baby rattlesnake is disgusting!”

  “Who makes the tacky thing?” Witter asked.

  “The Seminoles on the Everglades reserve. At least that’s the word on the street. Turn right, Eddy. The Hilton is just after the traffic circle. I hope Soblen will be on his feet when we find him.”

  He was not on his feet or lying down. They had not seen him since he had left for the hospital and he was nowhere to be found in the hotel or even in the bars nearby. By ten at night they had to give in to the obvious: little doctor Soblen had completely vanished.

  At 8 o’clock in the morning Smith Beffort was ready to see Mie Azusa. Akamatsu was pacing the lobby of the Hilton; Witter was on the sidewalk across the street; Cadogan stood at the entrance to the parking lot where the De Soto was waiting. Every eventuality had been seen to. Mie Azusa did not have the slightest chance of escaping the vigilance of the G-men in the unlikelihood that she could shake Yosho Akamatsu, the ace of the Japanese Tokkoka.

  At 9 a.m. sharp the telephone rang and Beffort pounced on it. He grabbed the receiver and heaved a sigh when he recognized the melodious voice of Mie Azusa. “I’m in the hallway, Mr. Beffort.”

  “Come up, Mie. Today I’m presentable.”

  She hung up without a word and he went to open the door. Hiding in the shadows of the doorway he heard the elevator stop on his floor and the muffled clap of the glass doors. Then, tiny feet walking down the carpet in the hallway.

  The G-man’s severed pinkie still hurt enough to make him cautious. After all, Mie Azusa could very well have never been herself but only believed and said she was simply because the electronic brain was talking through her mouth.

  Mie Azusa stopped in front of the door left ajar and stood there motionless. Smith Beffort was so close to her that he heard her hurried breath. Why didn’t she enter? 24 hours earlier she had not hesitated to breach the threshold of his room, open her blouse and cry in his arms while confiding in him. Today she waited listening, stuck in the deserted hallway as if she was about to face a particularly dangerous ordeal.

  Beffort moved slowly to take a peek. Mie Azusa put back in her handbag the comb she had just used to fix her thick hair. She was wearing a tight dress, high-heeled pumps and make-up on her luscious lips. Like that she was terribly feminine and it was hard to imagine her wielding a firearm.

  Beffort slipped silently into his room, sat in an armchair and hid his hand, whose bandages had been changed by Cadogan that morning. He did not act like that out of vanity. He wanted to know if Mie Azusa would react when he sprung his amputated hand on her. He could use it like a shield, then like a battering ram if the young lady decided to use him for target practice again.

  Mie Azusa finally knocked softly on the door. Beffort pretended to be cheerful. “Come in! The door’s open.”

  The hinges creaked and the lock clicked when the door closed. Mie Azusa entered the room. She was smiling. Her hands were in plain sight. Beffort wondered where she was hiding her automatic. “Good morning, Mr. Beffort.”

  “You look ravishing, Mie,” he said in all sincerity. “Sit down and please call me Smith. That way we won’t be so formal.”

  She put her bag on the table very naturally and sat down, straightening her dress. Beffort stared at her. He was fascinated by the difference of expressions that separated Mie Azusa from Miss Atomos. She was the same woman, but he could not forget the savage face of the one who had shot at him the day before.

  Mie Azusa lowered her eyes. “Don’t look at me like that, Smith,” she begged. “You make me feel like a criminal.”

  They were very close to each other. Beffort put his good hand on the arm of his seductive visitor. “Do you know what you did after you left yesterday morning, Mie?”

  “No. It’s almost like I never left you.”

  “You don’t remember anything?”

  She moved wearily. “I know that I left your room. Then there’s a black hole where I don’t know anything and I wake up 100 yards away from the Hilton. I’m walking and dressed like this and I have this purse. Well, I understand that a day and night has gone by since our first meeting…” She stared deep into his eyes and added, “It’s something I’m used to, Smith, but since I met you, it really seems like I’ve lost all contact with humanity. It’s as if I’m already dead. I’m 20 years old and really live only one hour a day. My body gets so tired while I’m the other that I’ll grow old without seeing the years pass by.”

  “Don’t despair, Mie,” Beffort said kindly. “We defeated Madame Atomos and we’ll certainly manage to destroy the electronic brain whose slave you are. But I have to know where Atomos City is and you’re the only one who can help me in this.”

  “I can’t help you, Smith!”

  Beffort leaned toward her. “Try,” he demanded. “Some details can help you remember where you came from, what you’ve done since you arrived in American territory and especially where you’re staying now. Look, Mie, your dress is wrinkled as if you’ve just taken a long drive in a car.”

  “In a car?”

  Beffort took the purse she had put on the table. Opening it he quickly found a ring of keys. He shook them and said, “These are car keys, Mie! You didn’t come to the Hilton on foot.”

  The young Japanese lady buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know,” she whimpered.

  Beffort gripped her wrist and forced her to look at him. “Can you cross your legs?” he asked.

  It was so unexpected that Mie Azusa’s jaw dropped.

  “Cross your legs!” Beffort insisted.

  The young lady tried, but it was impossible. Her eyes grew big and she said, “I can’t, Smith!”

  “Something getting in the way?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “I’ll tell you in a minute. Now stand up and take out whatever it is you’re so used to that you don’t feel it anymore, but which prevents certain natural movements.”

  Mie Azusa stood up from the chair. Turning away, she lifted her dress and let out a little cry. She turned back to face him. “Smith!”

  Beffort grimaced. The holster with the automatic was so tightly buckled around her thigh that the skin was turning purple and puffy around the leather strap.

  “Take it off,” he said.

  Mie Azusa pulled at the buckle and the holster dropped to the floor. Beffort picked it up, took the automatic and emptied the magazine. It had either been changed or reloaded because it was full.

  “And there you go,” he showed her his bandaged hand. “This is the weapon you used to take off my finger.”

  Mie Azusa turned pale and fell back into the armchair. “What do you mean?”

  “Yesterday I followed you. I didn’t know you were armed and I approached you. You shot me at point blank range before escaping in a beige convertible Bick.”

  “It wasn’t me!”

  “No, it was Miss Atomos, Mie.”

  Tears beaded on the young lady’s eyelids. “It’s awful. I could have killed you.”

  She started crying like a baby and Beffort went to her, put his hands on her shoulders and said, “Dear Mie, you couldn’t. It’s in the past. Right now you are yourself and we have to think about the future.”

  She grabbed him, instinctively. “I want to stay with you, Smith. Keep me here in your room. Protect me, I beg you!”

  “Mie…”

  “Don’t deny me, Smith!”

  “You know that’s impossible. You’ll turn back into Miss Atomos the second the electronic brain wants you to.”

  “So tie me up.”

  “If you don’t answer its call, it will kill you.”

  She jumped up and hugged him, whispering, “How much time do I have, Smith?”

  He looked at his watch. “Thirty minutes.”

  Her face moved closer and he felt her fresh breath on his mouth. “That’s enough for me to be yours before becoming a monster,” she growled desperately. “If I die, at least I’ll die a woman.”

  “Don’t do something you’ll regret when…”

  She shut him up by kissing him and they toppled onto the bed. Mie Azusa was beautiful, desirable and Smith Beffort was just a man.

  At 10:05 the pretty, young Japanese girl walked hurriedly past Yosho Akamatsu. With the description that Beffort had given him he had no problem recognizing her when she had entered the hotel an hour earlier. He fell in behind her and motioned discreetly to Witter who started walking on the sidewalk across the street. He took off his hat to alert Cadogan who in turn started up the De Soto.

  From his window Beffort watched Mie Azusa and her guardian angels walking away. From now on Mie had an important place in his life and in his heart. He wanted to help her, but according to the plan drawn up with Akamatsu, he had to stay in his room and wait by the telephone…

  Chapter VI

  She was still Mie Azusa when she left Beffort. In the elevator she put her finger to her lips as if she was searching for traces of the G-man’s kisses and her hand slid down to her chest and onto her flat stomach. She tried to hang on to herself, but the hum that filled her head was getting louder every second, becoming a tremendous roar, a frightening and unstoppable tidal wave…

 

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