"I think I could attend to that," Lelan put in. "My duties are in the rooms of The Three. I know that the other two are sick old men, and Fator alone directs us. I know his directing room, from where all his orders originate. In fact, I go in and out at will, because I am responsible for all equipment."
Bob looked at Vasper. "Where would this experiment be held—Forg's, and Jim—"
"I do not know, unless it be in Fator's rooms. Again, it might be somewhere else. Fator has a secret workroom."
Bob sank to a stool, mind going over the picture. Presently he looked up at Lelan. "If we left here at precisely the same moment, you to the directing room, Vasper and I to where I could be near the time-space transfer machine, I'm willing to, well, make a try and get in the machine. But Vasper, or someone must tell me what to do."
"That is impossible," Vasper told him. "However I can operate everything. Winslow, I wish to go with you and Jim. Back to your 1940."
"But they'd come and get us—I mean you in particular."
Vasper smiled. "There is one way, my friend, they cannot reach us. We keep the machine. But before that, we take Fator along, to drop into another time. Then there will be no brains transferred, and there will be no new machine, for many, many years. I know. This one took fifty years of construction."
"We might fail," Bob muttered. He looked at Godi and Lelan. Godi spoke up. "I have heard whispers of Fator's secret workroom. Maybe I can find it, if you fail otherwise. I leave now." He turned, pressed Lelan's hand. "We do this for Jim Kenley, one—one swell sportsman," he said, then hurried around the false wall.
They stood there for minutes, the remaining three, whispering final details, Bob felt alternate hot and cold chills now, as he realized his own end, should they fail. Or Lelan fail. Lelan assured them he would not fail. "You shall have the orders before the count of ten," he swore. "The guard will fall back and admit you."