"She did stop me, Doctor—but I'd figured on that. I took precautions. I had someone else there with me—a girl. She had a gun. While the alien tried to make me drown myself, the girl got behind her unnoticed and shot her."
The scientist was silent for a moment. When he spoke his voice seemed harder, colder. "Clever, if true," he said. "But it surprises me that a bullet would destroy the hold this creature had on its body. If it was as powerful as you say it was, I would think—"
"Hope, you mean, don't you, Doctor? Are you still wondering whether a bullet would disturb your body? I think it will. I gambled on that and won. You'll lose control. There really isn't much of that body left, is there?"
"You should write fiction, Mr. Cameron. This is all very interesting, but since I'm not one of your aliens will you please remove that gun from my neck? It is not a pleasant feeling."
I hesitated. He hadn't introduced one false note. If he were not the alien I would be destroying one of the world's greatest men, an irreplaceable mind. But there was only one way of finding out. I had to make him act.
"I'm sorry, Doctor," I said. "I can't take any chances. And I've delayed too long. I have to kill you."
"You'll never get away—the shot will be heard."
"I'll have to run that risk."
My finger started to tighten on the trigger. My hand was shaking and my mouth was dry.
"Stop!"