As Underwood watched, he thought he sensed something of the drive that might have whipped Demarzule's brain, the goad that made vast superior powers intolerable in the possession of even a beneficent man, for he would no longer remain beneficent.
By the might that was in him he had vanquished the Great One! He could stand in the place of the Great One if he chose! He did not know if his powers were becoming greater than those of Jandro, like a strengthened plant in new soil, but surely they were growing. The secrets of the Universe seemed to be appearing before him, one by one.
A mere glance at a slab of inert matter, and his senses could delve into the composition of its atoms and sort out and predict its properties and reactions. One look into the far spaces beyond the Solar System and he could sense himself soaring in eternity. Yes, he was growing in power and perception, and where it might lead, he dared not look.
But there were other things to be had, other, simpler ambitions in which common men had found fulfillment throughout the ages.
Illia was warm against him, soft in his arms.
"I want you to operate again, as quickly as possible," he said.
She looked up at him with a start. "What do you mean?"
"You must take out the abasic organs. They've served their purpose. I don't want to live with them. I could become another Demarzule with the power I have."
Her eyes were faintly blue in the light that came from the panel and they were intent upon him. In them he read something that made him afraid.