Coming out of his Probe, Keller saw the result of his last implanted thought: Radcliffe, now in a tight fetal ball, lay on the floor.
His face was absolutely devoid of expression. His conscious mind was a constant gobble-gobble-gobble.
Keller entered the next room, to find Sally sprawled limply across her desk. Mindless, soulless, as if she had never had a mind or soul—Keller lifted her tenderly onto the floor and chose the most merciful way out, disintegrating her body with an atomic gun from the closet.
Then, again, the Probe....
**Radcliffe.**
Mememe.
**I'm Sally.**
Nonono. (Gloating.) Gonegonegone.
**Radcliffe, where's Sally?**
Gone. Satisfaction. Triumph. Laughter. Delirious happiness.