Dale had been so much under the foreign agent's influence that he had not considered the ethics of the idea at all until time to press the button that would concentrate the sun-energy into a consuming column of fire. The time was now ... and it was only now, with the hypnosis just beginning to wear off at the edges, that he found himself wondering vaguely about angles of the situation that previously had not occurred to him.
Who was the man who had talked to him? Whom did he represent? Why hadn't he gone to the U. N. if he knew so much?
But then it was true, as the man had said—if France planned to start dropping atomic bombs at three o'clock, it would be too late to appeal to the U.N. Dale didn't like Frenchmen anyway.
Altogether, the Bryd concluded, Dale Stevenson was pretty muddled up in his mind. The man needed a rest, but that could be worked out later. Right now his finger was on the firing-button, and the psyche-control, though weakened, was pushing him to finish the job.
Dale Stevenson's finger was just starting to move the button....
Oh dear, these humans certainly could muddle things.