It was the wrong thing to do. He'd about reached his limit. It made him light-headed. He couldn't fight her, couldn't shut her out. She knelt on the altar with her hands stretched out to him, and a shaft of golden light falling on her like something in a church.
"Open your eyes," he said. "Open your eyes and look at me."
Let me free. Let me free!
Freedom Lundy didn't know anything about. The freedom of outer space, with the whole Milky Way to play in and nothing to hold you back. And with the longing, fear. A blind, stricken terror....
"No!" Lundy said.
Things got dark for Lundy. Presently he found himself at the altar block, fumbling at the net.
He wrenched away and went stumbling back to his corner. He was twitching all over like a frightened dog.
"Why do you want to do it? Why do you have to torture men—drive them crazy for something they can't have—kill them?"
Torture? Crazy? Kill? I don't understand. They worship me. It is pleasant to be worshiped.
"Pleasant?" Lundy was yelling aloud, and didn't know it. "Pleasant, damn you! So you kill a good guy like Farrell, and drown Jackie Smith...."