"You must have driven him insane first!"
"Look at this and see if you still think so." Sark led the way to a small instrument and pointed to the eyepiece of it. "Look in there."
Curt bent over. Light sprang up at Sark's touch of a switch. Then a scene began to move before Curt's eyes.
"Dell!" he exclaimed.
The scene was of some vast and well-equipped biological laboratory, much like those of Camp Detrick. Silent, mask-faced technicians moved with precision about their tasks. Dr. Dell was directing operations.
But there was something wrong. The figure was not the Dell that Curt knew.
As if Sark sensed Curt's comprehension of this, the scene advanced and swelled until the whole area of vision was filled with Dell's face. Curt gasped. The face was blank and hideous. The eyes stared. When the scene retreated once more, Curt saw now that Dell moved as an automaton, almost without volition of his own.
As he moved away from the bench like a sleepwalker, there came briefly into view the figure of an armed guard at the door. The figure of a corporal, grim in battle dress.
Curt looked up, sick as if some inner sense had divined the meaning of that scene which he could not yet put into words.