It was Rick who broke the silence following Steve's last words.
"And I was thinking just a little while ago that perhaps there wasn't an enemy to watch out for!”
Steve Glanced up sharply. "What makes you think there is?”
"It's obvious, isn't it? You don't know where Weiss and Zircon went, and none of your men do. Dad doesn't. They just vanished. They wouldn't vanish of their own free will. I know them better than that.”
"Yes,” Scotty agreed. "If they haven't got in touch with anyone, it's because they couldn't. The only reason they couldn't phone or write or something would be because they were being held.”
"My thought exactly.” Steve rose and picked up his hat. "However, I have the advantage in my reasoning. You see, I know we have an enemy. Your father and the scientists are helping us to combat the enemy. It's warfare in the dark, because we haven't the faintest idea of who he—or they—might be.”
A question trembled on Rick's lips, but Steve shook his head.
"That's enough chatter. I'm going back to my office and start over again. There must be some clue. Meanwhile, you two hop into a cab and get over to see the colonel. He expects you. And don't take your friend's cab, Scotty. Walk out to Pennsylvania Avenue and pick up a cruising hack. It's safer that way.
Steve went out the door, Scotty right on his heels. Rick reached for his new hat and followed.
At the elevator, Steve motioned for them to get in. "I won't ride down with you,” he said. "Now, for the luvva Mike, be careful. Keep your eyes open. I don't want you to show up missing too.”
He said it half jokingly, but Rick sensed that he was deadly serious. As the elevator made its slow way down, he pondered on the strange disappearance of Weiss and Zircon. What could have lured them from the train? And were they all right?
Scotty was thinking along the same lines, because he said, "If anyone has hurt Weiss or Zircon!”
"Let's hope they're just being held,” Rick said. He crossed his fingers. The scientists were his good friends. It made him feel funny to think they were in the hands of an unknown enemy. "We'd better step on it,” he told Scotty.
Out on the street, they hiked rapidly in the direction of Pennsylvania Avenue A cruising cab passed and they hailed it. Rick knew the reason behind Steve's suggestion. A cruising taxi was less likely to be a "plant” than one parked in front of the hotel. He gave the driver the name of the Connors Building and they settled back in their seats, not talking. It wouldn't do to discuss things in a taxi.
The building was in the shadow of the White House, a very unimpressive, temporary structure. They went up the steps, looking around curiously. There were no guards. A receptionist smiled and asked their business.
"Room 121,”Rick said.
"Colonel Blythe? One flight up, and turn to your right.”
Rick gave Scotty a sideways glance as they hiked up the stairs. There was nothing secret about this place! Anyone could walk in. He began to feel a little let down, because he had pictured a stalwart guard, maybe a soldier, who would bar the door while asking their names.
They went down the second-floor corridor until they found Room 121. Rick knocked, and a voice said, "Come in.”
Inside a girl smiled at them. "Yes?”
"We've come to see Colonel James Blythe,” Rick said.
She nodded toward an inner door. "Go right in, Mr. Brant. He is expecting your.” She smiled at Scotty. "Mr. Scott, too.”
"Thank you,” Rick said, a little dazed. How had she known which was which? He was sure he had never seen her before. His respect for this unknown organization skyrocketed.
In the inner room, a man in a civilian suit came to meet them. "I'm Blythe,” he said. "Come in and sit down.” He led the way to his desk and pointed out comfortable chairs.
He was about forty years of age, his hair graying. Even in civilian clothes, Rick thought he could identify him as a soldier. He had the straight shoulders, the erect carriage, and the poised assurance of a career Army man.
"You're curious,” Blythe said. "Naturally. Well, I'm going to answer some of your questions, the nontechnical ones. Then I'm going to send you to the laboratory where you are to work.”
"But Weiss and Zircon--?” Scotty stopped.
"True, Weiss and Zircon have disappeared. Still, there is work to be done. You can assist someone else until they show up. Now, let's get down to cases.”
Rick and Scotty sat bolt upright on the edges of their chairs.
"About a month ago,” Colonel Blythe began, "three men walked into a secret government laboratory in Arizona. They were not stopped, because the lab was well concealed within a private hospital. It was underground, and even the majority of the hospital staff did not know of its presence. It could only be reached through the hospital library, by passing the librarian, who is one of our people.”
"These three men walked in, went down the corridor without molesting anyone, and went into the library. It happened that two of the staff physicians were in there, as well as the librarian. One of the men carried what at first glance appeared to be a box camera. He held it before him, as one would to take a picture, and clicked the shutter.”
The colonel paused to light a cigarette while Rick fidgeted.
"It was not a camera,” Blythe said. "The librarian and the doctors heard a high, shrill whisper, then they collapsed, writhing on the floor. They felt no pain. They did not lose consciousness. But when they tried to get up they had no control over their muscles. The were completely paralyzed.”
A memory flashed into Rick's mind. Dismal!
"The men walked to the library desk, reached underneath and correctly pressed the combination of buttons that opened the secret door to the lab—a hinged bookcase. They went into the lab, used their weapon to knock down those at work, helped themselves to the lab records and several specimens, and walked out again, entirely without resistance or trouble from anyone.”
Colonel Blythe was very grave."I can't tell you the nature of the records or specimens, but I assure you they knew exactly what to look for.”
"An inside job,” Scotty guessed.
"Yes. The person who tipped them off was discovered and is now in prison. He knows nothing, except that he was paid for information.”
The girl from the outer office interrupted. She carried a tube of white paste, a fingerprint outfit, and two white cards.
Rick and Scotty submitted to fingerprinting, but of a very unusual kind. She wanted only their thumb imprints, and she took them in white, on a white card!
"Queer,” Scotty muttered.
"Not very.” Colonel Blythe smiled. "You'll see. But to go on. A month ago, three men, presumably the same ones, walked into an office in Washington, in a building near by. It was the same story. Only a fortunate accident kept them from helping themselves to top-secret material. The officer in charge of the security vault was delayed by a traffic accident and the vault was not open. They had no means of opening it. Oh, yes, there was one odd thing. Under the effects of this box weapon of theirs, a clerk's hearing aid exploded.”
He looked at Rick. "Does all this mean anything to your?”
"It wouldn't have, sir,” Rick said, "except for what happened to my dog!”
Colonel Blythe smiled. "How is Dismal? Back to normal, I hope. I'm very fond of dogs. I have three, as a matter of fact.” He became serious again. "I won't insult your intelligence by telling you what a weapon of this kind means. We were forced to go outside the service for aid. Naturally, we went to the best authorities. They happened to be the Spindrift scientists. We knew you were working in ultrasonics because your father, Rick, supplied the central scientific authority here with complete details of the Sonoscope he developed for use under the sea at Kwangara.”
The colonel rose."That is all. You can see why the utmost secrecy is essential if we are to prevent panic. We can fight this thing as long as it is underground. Once all the facts are known, the confusion, the newspaper reports, and the furore it would create would only help the criminals to cover their trail more effectively.”
He reached for his phone and said cryptically, "Ten.”
In a moment a voice buzzed in the receiver. "Yes/”
"This is Janig,” Blythe said. "I'm sending them over to you. They'll arrive in ten minutes.” He replaced the phone and addressed Rick and Scotty. "On K Street, just two blocks up, you'll find a drugstore. Go in the door to the right of the drugstore and go up the stairs. That's all. Thank you for coming.”
He shook hands and ushered the boys out so smoothly there was no time for questions. In the outer room, the girl waited. "You'll need these,” she said, and handed each of them a brown, oblong card of what looked like leather.
In the hall, Rick and Scotty examined them. On one side were their pictures, with their full names and a serial number. Right above their names letters were imprinted. JANIG! On the other side were two thumbprints, embossed into the material!
"Well, I'm beat!” Scotty exclaimed.
"Same here.” Rick looked at the likeness of himself. "You know when they took these? While we were walking up the stairs. There was a hidden camera at the landing somewhere! And what is this stuff?”
"Looks like leather,” Scotty said, flexing his. "But I think it's plastic.”
Rick held his up to the light and agreed. It was a thin, very flexible plastic that could be easily rolled up or folded into a tiny square.
Colonel Blythe's secretary came through the door and saw tem examining their cards. She smiled. "They're edible, too. If you swallow them, they'll dissolve.” She went down the corridor and into another office.
Rick felt as though butterflies had taken refuge in his stomach. This think was big! Look at the way the organization functioned. Steve had picked up a phone and presto! Full information on Gizmo McLean. They had been with Colonel Blythe ten minutes, and on the way out they had received these!
"JANIG,” Scotty said aloud. "What is it?”
"Don't talk anymore,” Rick cautioned. "Let's get out of here.”
They went down the stairs, past the receptionist, and out into the street. Not until he was sure no one could overhear did Rick speak.
"Scotty, I'm scared.”
"Same here.”
"This is big.”
"You're telling me? Listen, Rick, with a weapon like that, nothing is closed to those people. They could walk right into the most secret places in the country. They could hike casually into Oak Ridge itself and maybe walk off with an atom bomb!”
"And they have Zircon and Weiss,” Rick groaned.
"But how does it work?”
"I have an idea,” Rick said. "I think that it's an ultrasonic weapon, because the ultrasonic pistol knocked Dismal down and paralyzed him. Do you remember how he shook before he fell?”
"I got that,” Scotty agreed. "It sounds like the description of what happened to the people in the library.”
They had been walking toward the drugstore Blythe had mentioned. As they reached the corner of K Street, Rick saw it diagonally across from them. It was the only one in sight, so it had to be the right one.
The boys examined the building. It was ordinary looking, with apartments and offices over a row of stores. They crossed the street and found the door to the tight of the drugstore. It was set back in a shallow entryway. A brass name plate said Dr. Miles Keppner.
Rick looked for a doorbell, but there was none. Evidently they were to go right up. He opened the door and walked up the narrow stairs, Scotty beside him. As he went, Rick thought he heard a buzzer sound from somewhere above. Evidently there was a warning device, perhaps a button under one of the stair treads.
A door opened and a slender, scholarly man of middle age looked out. He motioned to the boys, and spoke quietly. "Come in, please.”
They went into a room that looked like a doctor's office. Rick noted the name on the window: Miles Keppner, M.D. He had to read it backwards, of course, because it was placed so that people on the street could read it. He wondered if the doctor had many patients.
"You have your cards?”
The boys produced them. The slender man examined them closely. "Very well, boys, come with me.” He opened a door and led them into a completely equipped laboratory!
"Our shop,” their guide said, smiling. "Yours, too, now. I'm Dr. Keppner, by the way.”
Rick shook hands. "I'm glad to meet you sir.” He looked around at the equipment. "But I'm a little puzzled. I can't understand why Mr. A – that is, why anyone wanted Scotty and me down here when you could have had trained people. Golly, I don't know what we could do.”
Dr. Keppner chuckled. "On the surface, I suppose it does seem odd. However, you and Scotty have worked with Weiss and Zircon for a long while. You realize I'm sure, that an assistant is at his best when he has worked with the same man or men for some time. Besides, we knew of your…uh, ability with equipment.”
He went to a drawer and drew out a familiar object. "Surely you haven't forgotten this?”
Rick took the air pistol that had caused so much anguish. He looked at it in wonder. "No, sir. But how did it get here?”
"Steve Ames brought it to me. It has helped immeasurably. We realized at once, you see, that the new weapon was an ultrasonic one. All the evidence pointed to it. The explosion of the clerk's hearing aid, the way the victims behaved. That was due to temporary damage to the inner ear, which is the seat of equilibrium. The damage caused a complete loss of balance. There were other factors, of course, but that seemed the most significant. We began experimenting with frequencies, to determine which particular sound could bring about the effect of the whispering weapon. It was a difficult job, because we could not be sure whether it was volume that did most of the damage or a single frequency. When you knocked Dismal over and paralyzed him, you gave us an important clue. Weiss and Zircon were to come here to continue their research, but they have vanished, as you know.”
"But what can we do now?” Rick asked.
"You can help me and two experts who are due to arrive at any moment. I may say that we have discovered the exact method. The frequencies were measured at Spindrift on your equipment there. An experiment was conducted that proved the theory. Professor Gordon was the victim. He volunteered, I might add. Very dangerous. We are working in a new field. The wrong frequency might have caused permanent crippling or even death. However, it turned out as expected. We can now reproduce the whispering weapon.”
"Then that does it,” Scotty said. "Except for finding out who is behind this.”
"Not a bit of it,” Dr. Keppner said flatly. "Our task has just begun. We must find a counterweapon, one so efficient that it can be installed as a security measure in every government building. It must be fully automatic, so that the whispering weapon will set it off, nullifying the paralysis effect.”
"You said ‘we,'” Rick put in. "Do you mean you and us?”
"Partially,” Dr. Keppner said. "But we are not alone. We have the full backing and all of the facilities of JANIG!”