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THE MAGIC LABYRINTH by Philip Jose Farmer

“I said nothing about killing,” Burton said, “though I’m prepared to do it if I must. What I want is to clear up this mystery. Some of you may be agents. I implore you to step forward and confess. You have nothing to lose and much to gain. It’s too late now to attempt to hide things from us.”

De Marbot said, sputtering, “But.. .but, my dear Burton! You hurt me! I am not one of these damnable agents or Ethicals! I am what I say I am, and I’ll strike the man who calls me a liar!”

Nur said, “If one or both of them is guiltless, then you will have injured and insulted an innocent. It would be brutal to do so. Moreover, you’ll have made an enemy of a friend. Can’t you hypnotize them without violence?”

“I hate doing this as much1 as any of you,” Burton said. “Believe me when I say that. But an Ethical would be an excellent hypnotist himself, and no doubt his powers of resistance will be very strong. I must knock these two out so that they won’t have these powers, catch them when they’re half-witless.”

Alice said softly, “It is terribly brutal, Richard.”

“Now,” Burton said, “I want you to take out your weapons and drop them on the floor. Do it one by one and do it slowly. You, Nur, you be the first.”

The knives and pistols clattered onto the gray metal. When they were all disarmed, Burton told them to step back while Alice picked up the weapons. In a short while there was a pile of them against the wall behind him.

“Keep your hands on your heads.”

Most of their faces showed anger, indignation, or hurt puzzlement. The faces of Ah Qaaq and Gilgamesh were iron masks.

“Come to me, Gilgamesh,” Burton said. “When you’re five feet from me, stop. Then turn around.”

The Sumerian walked slowly toward him. Now he was glaring. He said, “If you strike me, Burton, you will have made an enemy forever. I was once the king of Uruk, and I am the descendant of gods! No one lays a hand on me without punishment! I will kill you!”

“I am indeed sorry to have to do this,” Burton said. “But surely you can see that the fate of the world is the issue. If we were in each other’s shoes, I would not blame you for what you were doing to me. I’d resent it, yes, but I’d understand it!”

“After you’ve found I’m innocent, you would do well to kill me! If you don’t, I’ll kill you! I speak the truth!”

“We’ll see.”

Burton planned, if the Sumerian was not X, to install a posthypnotic command that Gilgamesh forgive him when he came out of the trance. He would have ordered him to forget the injury, but the others would no doubt remind him of it.

“Place your hands on the back of your neck,” Burton said. “Then turn around. Don’t worry about being hurt too much. I know precisely just how much force I’ll need. You won’t be unconscious for more than a few seconds.”

Burton reversed the pistol and lifted it by its butt. Gilgamesh, bellowing, “No!” whirled, his arms flying out from his neck, and his hand struck the pistol and tore it from Burton’s grip-Alice should have fired then. Instead, she tried to beat the Sumerian on the back with her pistol barrel. Burton was very strong, but he went down under the herculean power of Gilgamesh and then was lifted up. He struck Gilgamesh in the face, making his nose bleed and bruising the skin. The Sumerian lifted him above his head and threw him against the wall. Stunned, Burton dropped to the floor.

The others were shouting and screaming, and Alice was yelling. But she managed to bring the butt of her weapon, now reversed, down on the head of Gilgamesh. He swayed, then began to crumple.

Ah Qaaq, swift despite his fat, ran by Alice, snatching the pistol from her hand, and continued toward the end of the corridor.

Though dazed, Burton struggled to get up, shouting, “Get him! Get him! He’s the Ethical! X! X!”

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