The Mind-Twisters Affair (2 page)

Waverly nodded and puffed on his pipe. "My opinion precisely, Mr. Solo. That's why I would like you and Mr. Kuryakin to take a look into it first hand. I agree with Dr. Morthley that something unusual must have happened to change Dr. Armden's attitude so rapidly and radically. It was less than a year ago that he last did a small job for us."

Illya looked up suddenly. "Remember that report we got from Security a few months ago? About the man who came into Del Floria's shop, claiming to be a former Thrush who had seen the error of his ways? At the time we accepted it at face value, but the idea of a Thrush agent suddenly changing sides is at least as improbable as what we have here - and the cases seem quite similar."

Waverly nodded. "Exactly. I confess that I cannot conceive of anything that would make a Thrush agent and a respected scientist both change their opinions of humanity in general and U.N.C.L.E. in particular, but it creates intriguing possibilities."

"Just the same, isn't image-making a little out of our line?" Napoleon asked. "Wouldn't this be something for the public relations department in Section 7 to handle?"

"Possibly; however, I'm afraid that Ethel hasn't yet forgiven us for sending her all the way over to the Bronx last week to speak at a Rotary Club luncheon. I don't think she'd react favorably to a request to fly out to Indiana to change the opinion of one scientist."

"Haven't the Directors given her an assistant yet?" Illya inquired. "I thought you promised her one when Kay left to write television scripts."

Waverly concentrated on his pipe for a moment before replying. "You know the budget, Mr. Kuryakin. And we like to think that all our agents help keep our public image spotless."

"Of course, sir," Napoleon agreed instantly, giving Illya a smug look. "You were saying...?"

"You and Mr. Kuryakin will drive out to see Dr. Armden personally. Find out what has made him so violently opposed to us and try to rectify any misconceptions he may have formed since he last worked with us."

"Drive, sir?" Napoleon asked distastefully.

"Correct, Mr. Solo. Dr. Armden lives in Midford, Indiana, a small university town some distance from the nearest airport. In fact, the town has no public transportation. Of course, you could fly in to Fort Wayne and rent a car there, but there is no immediate crisis requiring your attention. You can afford a leisurely drive across country. I understand the leaves are just beginning to turn." Waverly sighed quietly. "You might even regard it as a sort of vacation. I almost wish I could take the time myself. It's very beautiful this time of year."

Napoleon glanced at Illya. Neither seemed thrilled over the prospect of pastoral perfection. "Vacation," he said.

"Quite right, Mr. Solo. As an additional attraction, I have persuaded the other Directors to allow you to drive the special U.N.C.L.E. car."

Napoleon brightened slightly. "I've heard it's quite a car, sir. I've been hoping for a chance to try it out."

"I rather suspected you might. Bear in mind, however, that its devices are intended to be used against Thrush and not for evading traffic officers. And that speeding tickets are not paid for by U.N.C.L.E."

"Of course, sir," Napoleon agreed. "Our public image…"

"I don't mean to sound stupid," Illya said, "but I'm afraid I haven't been keeping up to date as Napoleon evidently has. Just what is special about the new car?"

Waverly smiled briefly. "I'm sure Mr. Solo will be more than willing to fill you in on all the details later. A few of the salient points include flame throwers behind the grill, a laser system, rocket launchers in the doors, a device for laying a smoke screen, a bullet proof shield, a high speed supercharged exhaust, and a braking parachute for emergency stops."

"I hope they have securely locked garages in Indiana," Illya remarked.

"There's no need to be apprehensive, Mr. Kuryakin. A channel in the car's computer has been programmed to respond to a special voice code from your communicators."

"Computer, sir?" Illya looked skeptical.

"Oh, didn't I mention that? It's something our engineering department developed. It's really quite versatile; a step beyond the miniature integrated circuit models most missiles use. There is a direct radio link with our main data and communications center here in New York."

Illya looked impressed at the mention of something more advanced than integrated circuits, but still had a few doubts. "I hope, sir," he said after a moment's reflection, "that such rudimentary devices as seat belts have not been overlooked?"

Midford struck Napoleon as being similar to Mukwanago, the little town in Wisconsin where the search for Thrush's invisible dirigible had begun. Distinguishing between small towns, however, had never been one of Napoleon's strong points; anything much smaller than Chicago struck him as a village. The major distinguishing feature of Midford was Midford University whose enrollment almost equaled the town's native population.

The university was a sprawling affair, made up of several blocks of one- and two-story buildings on the north edge of town. Three-quarters of a mile away, near the southwestern edge of town, was a branch plant of Falco Industries, where Dr. Armden was employed. It turned out he lived only a few blocks from the plant, near the end of a street which dead-ended at an open field a few doors farther on.

Napoleon made a short U-turn at the end of the street and pulled up behind a dark green Sprite with a racing stripe running along the hood. As they got out, Napoleon eyed the stripe for a second and glanced at the unmarked gray surface of the U.N.C.L.E. car.

"I suppose using the computer in a rally would be unsporting," he said regretfully.

"Very," Illya agreed as he rang the front door bell. A few seconds later, the door opened cautiously. A small woman, apparently in her late forties, peered out, squinting against the setting sun.

"What can I do for you?" she inquired.

"I'm Napoleon Solo and this is Illya Kuryakin," Napoleon began, holding out his identity card.

Before he had a chance to say more, the woman darted out onto the porch, closing the door softly behind her. "From U.N.C.L.E.?" she asked. "You're the ones who've been writing to Richard?"

"Mrs. Armden?" Illya inquired. Receiving a nod, he continued. "It was actually our superior, Mr. Waverly, who wrote your husband; he and Dr. Morthley. But we represent U.N.C.L.E. and…"

"I'm very glad to meet you," she said, "but I don't think it would be advisable for you to come in right now. There are two of Richard's associates with him, and the conversation just turned to Dr. Morthley and U.N.C.L.E. They seem quite bitter."

"Speak of the devil," Napoleon said. "You mean it's not just your husband who has suddenly decided that U.N.C.L.E. is basically evil?"

"Oh, no. Sometimes I think it's the whole town. Yesterday I even heard Richard talking to the boy who delivers our groceries. Maybe the boy was just being polite, but it didn't sound that way."

"Do you have any idea what happened to change them?" Napoleon asked. "Your husband worked for us several times before."

"I know," she said. "When we got the first letter about a month ago, I assumed he would work for you this time. Now that I think back, he'd been acting strangely for a short time previously, but I hadn't paid any attention. This time he just ignored the letter, but the next one seemed to annoy him. Finally, when Willard phoned last week, he seemed to go off the deep end. Since then he's been ranting about U.N.C.L.E. to everyone he meets."

"But do you know what changed him?" Napoleon persisted. "You obviously don't feel this way yourself."

"No, I can't imagine what could have changed him. Of course, I was sick for some time; I wasn't noticing much. I'm over it now, except for a strict diet and avoiding exercise. The doctor said I'm as good as new. But apparently the change came while I was still in bed."

"He's never mentioned anything specific to you?" Napoleon asked.

"Nothing. I'm not even sure what he dislikes about U.N.C.L.E. He never says anything specific."

"Could we see him?" Illya asked, moving toward the door. "Perhaps he'd tell us what's troubling him."

Mrs. Armden shook her head. "I'm afraid you'd just make him worse."

"We'll have to see him some time, Mrs. Armden," Napoleon said politely. "We've driven almost a thousand miles. Mr. Waverly and Dr. Morthley are very concerned about him."

She silently debated with herself before answering. "Very well, I suppose you must. But try not to..." Her voice trailed off for a moment before she continued. "I hope you can help."

"We'll do our best," Napoleon assured her.

Mrs. Armden gave the impression of squaring her shoulders as she turned to open the door and lead the two agents into the house. They stopped in an archway leading to a comfortable-looking living room. A small, wiry man with a bristling gray crewcut rose from an armchair to greet them. Two other men, both younger, remained seated on a couch.

"Richard," Mrs. Armden said to the older man, "these are friends of Willard. They've come all the way from New York to…"

"From U.N.C.L.E., you mean?" Armden said shortly. "Some people just won't take no for an answer."

"We do work for U.N.C.L.E.," Napoleon admitted, "but we are here because we're friends of Dr. Morthley."

"Who also works for U.N.C.L.E.," Armden said, unimpressed. "I used to be a friend of his, until he was subverted by his other alleged friends." He laughed shortly. "I always thought he would have better sense than to be taken in by your kind."

"But you also used to work for us," Napoleon pointed out. "You seem to be the one who has changed, not Dr. Morthley."

Armden's face froze for a second, then, as if something had clicked in his mind, he began speaking rapidly. "That was before I knew the truth about you. Now that I know, I'm through. You'll never get me back into that den of murderers!"

"Interesting," Napoleon commented, watching Armden. "How did you find out the truth?"

"I'm sure you'd like to know," Armden said. "Then you could stop other people from learning about you. But you're too late; it's becoming common knowledge. Now then, I have better things to do with my time than waste it on you. If you will leave, I can get back to my real friends."

Armden turned his back on them and sat down with finality. The other two men smiled approvingly at him. "Don't waste our time," one of them said. "Run back to Mr. Waverly and tell him that U.N.C.L.E. doesn't fool us out here."

The two agents glanced at one another. Mrs. Armden stood behind them, looking nervous.

"That would seem to be that," Illya remarked.

Napoleon nodded agreement and turned to go. Mrs. Armden scurried along the hallway and opened the door. Back on the porch, Napoleon asked, "How long has this been going on? You said something about his acting strangely before he received our letters."

"I can't say when it began; I was sick and he was worried, and neither of us was behaving normally. I noticed some – oddities - in his actions. Whatever it was, I just assumed that he had a problem at work. There wasn't anything really definite until the letters arrived. Since then, it seems to have been getting steadily worse."

"And he's never been any more specific than he was tonight?"

"Never." She laughed nervously.

Napoleon looked thoughtful. "If we're going to find out anything useful, it's going to take more than this evening. Can you recommend a good hotel, Mrs. Armden?"

"There's only one hotel in town. It's just north of the square." She pointed vaguely northeast.

"Thank you," Napoleon said. "We'll be in touch with you again before the weekend is over."

She didn't seem overjoyed at the prospect, but she managed a weak smile as they walked to the car. Napoleon motioned Illya into the driver's seat and pulled out his communicator as he slid into the passenger's side.

"Yes, Mr. Solo?" Waverly's voice came to them as the car pulled away from the curb. "I've been waiting to hear from you. Have you communicated with Dr. Armden?"

"I don't think that's quite the right term. We talked with him briefly, but I don't think we communicated with him."

"That's hardly unusual in the world today, Mr. Solo. I sometimes think that's one of our biggest problems; great amounts of talk but no communication. But that's neither here nor there, is it? What seems to be the matter with Dr. Armden?"

"It's hard to say," Napoleon began. "It was a little like talking to a politician who has a set of platitudes but no real knowledge. We couldn't get him to give a direct answer." He recounted their meeting with Armden and his friends.

"So the unfriendliness isn't restricted to Dr. Armden," Waverly mused. "I was afraid of that. Do you know if these other people have influenced him, or have they, too, been acted on by some mysterious force?

"Mrs. Armden gave the impression that no one individual was responsible for influencing her husband. We plan to stay here overnight and investigate further. Tomorrow will be Saturday, and we can reach most of the people we want to see. Perhaps we'll have more definite information for you then."

"Very well, Mr. Solo. There is one other person you might particularly want to speak to. Dr. Arnold Bennett is also employed by Falco, and he also once did some work for us." Waverly paused for a second before continuing. "Approach Dr. Bennett with caution, and keep me informed of the results. This begins to look a trifle sinister."

"Thrush, sir?" Napoleon speculated.

"Perhaps. It wouldn't do any harm to find if Dr. Armden's dislike for U.N.C.L.E. is accompanied by a corresponding fondness for Thrush. However, I don't want my agents to work on the assumption that Thrush is at the root of every problem. There are other inimical forces in the world. Remember to keep an open mind, Mr. Solo."

"Are there any local agents we could contact for information?" Napoleon asked.

Waverly thought for a moment. "The nearest major office would be Chicago, I believe. We have an office in Fort Wayne, but it's quite small; only one full-time agent. I seem to recall one or two part-time agents near Midford; we have several scattered throughout northern Indiana. Their duty is primarily information gathering, but they might be able to render you some assistance, particularly since information is precisely what we are after here. I'll have a check made, and give you a list of names and addresses the next time you check in."