Holloway seemed to sag—to shrink. He said, "The mind-stuff could recreate anything. It brought Melody back to me."
Kennedy sprang to his feet. "There is no reference in this log to—"
Mason turned on him. "Shut up, you fool!" He laid a gentle hand on Holloway's shoulder. "Tell us about it, old chap."
Holloway turned his burning eyes on the closed door to the next room. "She's in there. I wanted to get rid of you. I was afraid you would take her away from me. But it's no use. I can't hold my consciousness much longer. Then she will vanish."
Holloway tried weakly to rise from his chair. He called, "Melody—Melody baby!"
The door opened. A beautiful girl in a blue dressing gown came gracefully into the room. She walked straight to Holloway and took his tortured head into her soft hands. Her eyes pleaded with the men. "He suffers so. He will not sleep. I can't make him sleep. I—I don't understand."
Holloway's head dropped suddenly onto his chest. He slumped down in his chair. And as he did so, a change took place. The two men stood rooted, staring.
As Melody began to fade. Slowly, slowly, into a transparent image, into a mist, into a handful of sparkling fog.
Then she was gone.
Mason knelt by the bone-thin body in the chair. He made a quick examination and got wearily to his feet.