She inclined the lethal silver toy. "Let me see those papers, Kevin."
I handed her the doctor's manuscript.
Her breath escaped slowly and loudly. "It's all right. It's all right. It exists. It's real. Not even one of the unwritten ones. I've read this myself."
Doc was lying on the cot, half his face twisted into horror.
"Don't move, Kevin," she said. "I'll have to shoot you—maybe not to kill, but painfully."
I watched her face flash blue, red, blue and knew she meant it. But I had known too much in too short a time. I had to help Doc, but there was something else.
"I just want a drink of coffee from that container on the chair," I told her.
She shook her head. "I don't know what you think it does to you."
It was getting hard for me to think. "Who are you?"