He reached a point, at about three o'clock, when it seemed that ten minutes more would bring a complete breakdown of his defense mechanism. Benton never discovered whether he would reach that ultimate for at exactly three someone energized Circuit No. 13 and the gong sounded. As if he hadn't been waiting for that very thing Benton stood paralyzed for several seconds. Then abruptly he sprang into action. Urei was dead at the moment, but he wouldn't stay that way long; and it was during this short interval that Benton must reach the power-house and pull the main switch.
Benton raced along a corridor, tore through a storeroom, ripped frantically at steel doors with a haste that almost dislocated his arms, then fumbled with a bunch of keys as he was confronted by the power-house portal. There were two doors, of course; the first opened upon the anteroom in which was stored the lead armor needed to enter the room containing the atomic pile which furnished Urei's power. Benton ignored the armor standing against the walls. A long stride carried him past it to the alcove in which was set the final door, of massive lead.
Concrete baffles four feet thick lay on the other side and Benton visualized the quick turns he would have to take after he swung open the final door. Time was running out and there wouldn't be another chance; if Benton failed, Urei would be forever on the alert against him—if, indeed, Urei didn't operate on the man's brain forthwith.
There was no hesitation with the key to the second door. It was a large one and quite distinctive. Benton separated it from the others and inserted it in the elongated slot at the left side of the heavy grey door. He turned it sharply, but it resisted. Forcing himself to go slowly he backed it around and tried again. It didn't turn. He took it out, looked at it again, then gave it another try. This time he acted deliberately, certain that the key was inserted properly, but he may as well have used the wrong key, for all the good it did.
Abruptly he stepped back, his face a livid, gargoylish mask. This time he knew where his trouble was.
"You're here!" he accused, speaking to the door.
5
The voice that answered in Benton's brain was gentle. "I didn't mean to punish you that way," it said; "I was busy. But if you remember, I told you I could exist without that building full of electronic apparatus. It was you who assumed I was a liar, you know; I gave you no evidence for the assumption. Look at that key."