"No, Max."
"But, Ann, those people outside are in desperate danger—"
"I've gone this far. I won't turn back." In her voice was the familiar drive, the ambition he knew so well. But now it seemed different, a twisted distortion of something he had once admired.
"We don't need Eric Young," she said. "He's bungled everything. You and I, Max—" She caressed the transmitter affectionately. "With this, we'll possess unlimited power."
"You mean, Ann—" He choked on the words. "You came here of your own free will? You deliberately planned Mrs. Ames' murder?"
"She was dangerous, Max. She guessed too much. We knew that when we monitored the call you made from the spaceport. But in the beginning we weren't going to make you responsible. We thought the strangers in the house—your attempt to expose the other woman who called herself Mrs. Ames—would be enough to get you committed to a clinic. I didn't want you to be hurt, Max."
"Why, Ann?" His voice was dead, emotionless. "Because you loved me? Or because you wanted me to be your ace in the hole, if you failed to manage Eric Young the way you thought you could?"
"That doesn't matter now, Max, dear. I thought Eric had what I needed. But I was misjudging you all along."
"You're still misjudging me, Ann. I'm going to smash this machine and afterward—"
"No you aren't, Max," she said coldly. "I'll kill you first."