In this room, came the reply. Put down the gun, Harris-Khiilom. No, don't try to signal your friends. Just let the gun fall.
As if it had been wrenched from his hand, the gun dropped from his fingers, bounced a few inches, and lay still.
Shut off the subsonic, came the quiet command. I find it unpleasant.
Obediently Harris deactivated the instrument. His mind was held in some strange stasis; he had no private volitional control.
"Who are you?"
A member of that super-race whose existence you refused to accept.
Harris looked at Wrynn and his wife. Both were unconscious. "Wrynn?" he said. "How can your mind function if you're unconscious?"
CHAPTER VI
Gently Harris felt himself falling toward the floor. It was as if an intangible hand had yanked his legs out from under him and eased him down. He lay quiescent, eyes open, neither moving nor wanting to move.