Final Weapon Page 7

the parking lot. I believe he's detailed to keepwatch on me. You might try him with one of the headbands. Then, see whathe'll do with one on."

  "Any special reason?"

  Graham twisted his face uneasily. "I can't describe it," he said almostinaudibly. "You'd have to see for yourself."

  Bond looked at him speculatively for a moment, then held out his cap andone of the headbands.

  "Here, hold these."

  He put the other headband on, accepted the first, and walked out of theapartment, followed by Graham, who still carried the cap.

  As they came out and started across the parking lot, a man approachedthem.

  Bond looked at him, frowned, then cast a sidelong look at Graham.

  "_That what you meant?_" His thought carried an undercurrent ofincredulity.

  Graham nodded wordlessly, and Bond looked toward the approaching managain. Once more, his face wrinkled distastefully, then he spoke aloud.

  "Oh, Ross. Want you to try some thing." He held out the headband he wascarrying in his left hand.

  Ross came up, accepted the device, and looked at it curiously. "You meanthis is the thing he's been working on?" He jerked a thumb at Graham."Saw his wife come out a while ago. Guess she had one of 'em on. Shewent right back in again."

  Bond nodded. "This is it," he said. "Let's see how it works for you."

  Ross shrugged. "Try anything once, I guess." He adjusted the band to hishead, then stood, looking at the two men.

  "_Notice anything?_" Bond looked at him sharply.

  Again, Ross shrugged. "Nothing special," he said with a slight grunt."Seems as though this guy's pretty nervous."

  "_You don't have to say anything, just think it. And see if you cancommunicate with Graham._"

  "Huh?" Ross had been looking directly at Bond. He frowned.

  "_You mean, this thing--_" He paused, looking for a moment at Graham,then took the headband off. "Thing doesn't feel good," he complained. Heheld the device out to Bond, who accepted it.

  "But it works? You could communicate both ways with it?"

  "Oh, sure." Ross nodded grudgingly. "I got you, all right. But Icouldn't get a thing out of this guy." He wagged his head toward Graham."Except he was jittery about something."

  "I see. Thanks." Bond accepted the headband. "We're going to take theseto Research," he added. "Let the technicians there find out how goodthey are." He turned away and led Graham to his helicopter.

  As Graham settled in the seat, he turned to the sector leader. "He justcouldn't use it properly," he remarked. "Maybe only certain people _can_use them."

  Bond nodded as he started the motor. "Or maybe only certain peoplecan't." He busied himself in getting the machine up through the landingslot, then turned as they climbed into the night sky.

  "Maybe you've got to be able to understand and like people before youcan establish full contact with them. Maybe ... Maybe a lot of things."He was silent for a moment. "You know, this thing might become far morevaluable than you thought, Graham."

  * * * * *

  Howard Morely looked up from a memo as the clerk tapped on the door.

  "Come in."

  The man opened the door and stepped inside.

  "Sector Leader Bond is here, sir. He has some gentlemen with him."

  "And what does he want?"

  "He said it was about that new communicator, sir."

  "Oh." Morely turned his attention back to the memo. "Have them wait." Hewaved a hand in dismissal and went on with his reading.

  The beautification program was progressing well. Twenty miles of the oldmain highway through the valley had been completely cleared and planted.Crews were working on another stretch. The foreman of the wrecking crewdown at the point, in Sector Nine, reported that the last bit of scraphad been removed from the old bridge support. Underwater crews hadsalvaged the cables and almost all of the metal from the fallen bridgeitself, and the scrap was on the beach, ready for delivery to thereclamation mills in District One.

  Morely smiled sourly. Harwood would have a storage problem on his handsin a day or so. The delay in delivery could be explained and justified.Morely had seen to that. Now, all the material was ready and could bedelivered in one lot.

  Harwood would have to raise his production quota in his community millsto use up the excess material, and that would slow down the clean-up inDistrict One. The Old Man couldn't help but notice, and he'd see who wasefficient in his region. The district leader pushed the memo sheetsaside and placed his hands behind his head.

  Slowly, he pivoted his chair, to look at the entertainment screen. Hestarted to energize it, then drew his hand back.

  So that crackpot, Graham, had finally come up with something definite.Morely smiled again. It had almost seemed as though the man had beenstalling for a while. But the pressure and the veiled threats had beenproductive--again.

  To be sure, the agents covering that project had reported that thedevice seemed to be merely another fairly good means ofcommunication--nothing of any tremendous importance. But results hadbeen obtained, and a communicator which was reasonably free frominterception and which required relatively low power might be of somevalue to the community. He might be able to get a commendation out ofit, at least.

  And even if it were unsuitable for defense, there'd be a new product forone of the luxury products plants in the district, and the districtwould get royalties from the manufacturer. Too, it would keep peoplebusy and make 'em spend more of their credits.

  He grimaced at his vague reflection in the screen before him, and spokealoud.

  "That's the way to get things done. Make 'em know who's in charge. Andlet 'em know that no nonsense will be tolerated. Breathe down theirnecks a little. They'll produce." He cleared his throat and spun around,to punch the button on his desk.

  * * * * *

  The door opened and the clerk stood, respectfully awaiting orders.

  "Send in Bond and the people with him."

  The clerk stepped back, turning his head.

  "You may go in now, sir." He disappeared around the door.

  Harold Bond stepped through the doorway, followed by two men. Morelylooked at them closely. Engineers, he thought.

  "What have you got?" he demanded.

  One of the men opened a briefcase and removed a large, dully gleamingband. Apparently, it was made of plastic, or some light alloy, for hehandled it as though it weighed very little.

  As the man laid it on the desk, Morely examined the object closely. Itwas large enough to go on a man's head, he saw. It had adjustablestraps, which could be used to hold it in place, and there were a fewspring-loaded contacts, which apparently were meant to rest against awearer's forehead and temples.

  A few tiny knobs protruded from one side of the band, and a short wire,terminated by a miniature plug, depended from the other.

  The engineer dipped into his brief case again, to produce a small, flatcase with a long wire leading from it. He put this by the headband, andconnected the plugs.

  "The band, sir," he explained, "is to be worn on the head." He pointedto the flat case. "To save weight in the band, we built a separate powerunit. It can be carried in a pocket. We've tested the unit, sir, and itdoes provide a means of private communication with anyone within sight,or with a group of people. Two people, wearing the headbands, cancommunicate for considerable distances, regardless of obstacles."

  "I see." Morely picked up the headband. "Do you have more than one ofthese?"

  "Yes, sir. We made four of the prototypes and tested them thoroughly."Bond stepped forward. "I sent a report in on them yesterday."

  "Yes, yes. I know." Morely waved impatiently. He examined the headbandagain. "And you say it provides communication?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "No chance of interception?"

  Bond shook his head. "Well," he admitted, "if two people are in contact,and a third equipped person wishes to contact either one, he can jointhe conversati
on."

  "So, it's easier to tap than a cable circuit, or even a security typeradio circuit." Morely frowned. "Far from a secure means ofcommunication."

  "Well, sir, if anyone cuts in on a communication, both parties know itimmediately."

  Morely grunted and shook his head. "Still not secure," he growled. Helooked at the papers on his desk. "Oh, put one on. We'll see how theywork." He leaned back in his chair.

  * * * * *

  Bond turned to the man with the brief case, who held out anotherheadband. The sector leader fitted it to his