e nodded, realized the man couldn't see him, said: "Fine," and
switched off. He looked at his watch. A little over half an hour had
passed since he had left the Psychical Research Society offices. That,
he told himself, was efficiency.

Not that the books would mean anything, he thought. They would just
take their places at the end of the long row of meaningless,
disturbing, vicious facts that cluttered up his mind. He wasn't an FBI
agent any more; he was a clown and a failure, and he was through. He
was going to resign and go to South Dakota and live the life of a
hermit. He would drink goat's milk and eat old shoes or something, and
whenever another human being came near he would run away and hide.
They would call him Old Kenneth, and people would write articles for
magazines about The Twentieth Century Hermit.

And that would make him famous, he thought wearily, and the whole
circle would start all over again.

"Now, now, Sir Kenneth," Queen Elizabeth said. "Things aren't quite
that bad."

"Oh, yes, they are," Malone said. "They're even worse."

"I'm sure we can find an answer to all your questions," Her Majesty
said.

"Sure," Malone said. "Even I can find an answer. But it isn't the
right one."

"You can?" Her Majesty said.

"That's right," Malone said. "My answer is: To Hell with everything."

* * * * *

Malone's Washington offices didn't look any different. He sighed and
put the two big packages from the Psychical Research Society down on
his desk, and then turned to Her Majesty.

"I wanted you to teleport along with me," he said, "because I need
your help."

"Yes," she said. "I know."

He blinked. "Oh. Sure you do. But let me go over the details."

Her Majesty waved a gracious hand. "If you like, Sir Kenneth," she
said.

Malone nodded. "We're going on down to Interrogation Room 7 now," he
said. "Next door to it, there's an observation room, with a one-way
panel in the wall. You'll be able to see us, but we won't be able to
see you."

"I really don't require an observation panel," Her Majesty said. "If I
enter your mind, I can see through your eyes--"

"Oh, sure," Malone said. "But the observation room was built for more
normal people--saving your presence, Your Majesty."

"Of course," she said.

"Now," Malone went on, "I want you to watch all three of the men we're
going to bring in, and dig everything you can out of their minds."

"Everything?" she said.