Chapter 577:

Frazier shook his head, and the smug, offensive smile appeared again. He said: "From the very beginning, you were trapped, even though you didn't know it." He said, "The aircraft you are following is equipped with a ray battery. Although it is not as powerful as the light I have here, it is still sufficient to restrain you. On the route we chose. But there are enough rays." added impatiently. "I want to explain one more thing, and then-" He paused, a pause that was full of threats in some way. What should he do after treating us as VIPs? He answered my self-evident question for the third time. His eyes went down to the black gap. When he leaned towards us, his voice was nothing but a hissing whisper.
"Slaves!" he said, his lips twisted. "Do you want to be a slave?" He laughed-giggling from his throat, one after another, until it seemed to break my ear drum. I felt my teeth run into each other, and my nails stabbed my palms to control my nerves and resist the manic joy. Suddenly he was sober. His laughter disappeared like a robbed radio. "Listen, I will tell you. I will tell you everything because it is necessary to let you know so that you can work for me wisely. If I tell you now and you are still there, you will remember better Me, is of greater help to me "sane! "
"Sense!" The three of us exclaimed at the same time. I felt cold between my shoulder bones. My breathing stopped in my throat for a moment. My heart stopped, then beat. What does he mean? What is he going to do to us? What happened to his crazy brain?
"I have perfected the serum"-his tone is professional and nonchalant. He may have spoken in a class in the classroom-"a kind of serum, which makes the patient lose every trace of human emotion", so he became rational. However, all his wits and his memory still exist, and he can execute my orders and serve him. He has lost all the will to survive and resist. It is just an automaton, and all its mental equipment is under my command. "
Silence is silent. His sluggish and relentless black glass eyes swept over us. His smug, complacent smile narrowed his mouth. He let us stand on the floor. He knows, he knows we know. We cannot escape. We are two thousand feet above the earth. Our plane has to wait less than a quarter of a mile to be brought back by electromagnetic rays. parachute? Even suppose where we send the parachute? Falling two thousand feet into the middle of the Arabian desert?
My brain is beating. I have never been in such a cramped place. Soon-if Frazier does it, I don't even have the idea to think about it! I feel swallowed and choked. Is there a way out? In my opinion, a blanket is a kind of softness that the environment cannot control. A terrible blanket was folded around me, robbed my limbs, paralyzed me, and numb me. Fraser's voice came out from this terrible helplessness.
He said softly: "I have told you enough information to give you a light understanding of my strength. I will send you to the doctor now, and he will be responsible for managing the serum and putting you in the \'nutrition Under the rays." This is another discovery of mine. "This is a ray that allows the patient to absorb enough solid and liquid nutrients through the outer shell of the skin for 24 hours. "
Five minutes later, we were standing in a small room, which may be the office of the newest physician anywhere in the world. The doctor was staring at us on the polished mahogany desk. His eyes were like those of a guide and he was smooth and expressionless. But now we understand. Those eyes have no expression, because there is nothing to make them look. I tried to force my mind to understand something almost incomprehensible. Are we men of men! We have human power. They have no trace of human beings. Their power is very fast. Although they still have flesh and blood corpses, they are nothing but scientific robots! It's incredible! My hands became cold, and my head started to think. However, staring into the doctor's bright, enamel eyes, I knew it was true.
Seriously, scientifically, we are ready for injection. With every mechanical action of the doctor, my brain seems to be advancing at a new speed, because it is seeking a solution to our terrible problem. My eyes circled around that small office looking for a way to escape. The doctor turned around to prepare the syringe. Gesturing frantically from behind. I understand in a certain way. In my pocket is a flask-in Constantinople I filled a flask with drinking water. I was confused and I gave it to him.
The doctor turned around, wiped the iodine tablet with his arm, and reached for the syringe. When he leaned over, he stretched one foot forward. The doctor tripped and lay all over on the floor. Follett and I quickly bent over and picked him up and stood between him and Bryce-covering his eyes so that he could not see. We fumbled to give Bryce time. We apologize and appease. From the end of my eyes, I can see working like lightning-empty the vicious liquid from the syringe and fill it with water.
I'm done! We made the doctor stand up; brush his clothes one last time. But when we took a step back, I knew my hands were shaking, and I had to clamp my teeth to prevent them from shaking. Are we out of danger? Will the doctor discover our trick? And, if we leave his office without receiving a terrible injection, can we successfully deceive Fraser and his "slave" into thinking that we are angry? Fool them until we have a chance to escape? Can we simulate a glassy gaze? Are we good enough actors to get rid of it? When the doctor turned to his desk again and picked up the syringe, my mind went wild.
But a miracle happened! He mechanically gave us the injection-never doubt that it was not the demonic liquid he poured in, but just clear water! Then he stepped back and looked at us. The cold wind was flying around my spine. What should we do now? What is the role of serum? Does it act immediately or slowly? Should it make us sick? Does it put us to sleep? When we don't know what these symptoms should be, how can we simulate symptoms? However, the doctor's cold voice severely split my painful problem.
He said, "You will lie down here." He opened a door and opened a room with opium dens on the sidewalk. "In half an hour, I will be here for you. At that time-" Fraser smiled on his lips.
We walked into the room and the door closed behind us. Obediently, we lay on the narrow bunks. We dare not speak. We hardly dared to look at each other. We must act at all times, as if we were observed. Could Fraser's light not penetrate the wall? Even now, might he still not know that we beat the doctor and did not receive the lethal injection? and then? Suppose Fraser himself intends to inject again? I withdrew my thoughts from the terrible assumption. Wholeheartedly. So far, everything is going well. I lay on the bunk and closed my eyes.
After half an hour, we heard the door open. Now, I think, when I look up, I should be crazy! I tried to blank my mind. I tried to force the strange, brilliant, shiny, hollow expression I noticed. Will i succeed?
I raised my eyes. The doctor stood before us. He motioned to find him. I looked at the lowered lid. Thank God, he called Foley first. Flatter dabbled in the psychology of insanity. Flat will know what to do, and I will imitate him. Ruthlessly, the doctor mechanically tested him several times. I watched with bated breath. The doctor nodded. Follett passed!
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