The Book of Levi by Mark Clark Page A

control the game.’
    Leslie had become perturbed by the manic widening of Sebastian’s eyes. As he had increased in intensity of speech, so too had he tightened his grip on Leslie’s arm. At last, Leslie shook it free. ‘People are not merely animated pieces,’ he stated. ‘Have you sought Elizabeth’s permission to do this?’
    Sebastian slipped slowly into Leslie’s personal space and looked over his glasses at him. ‘No. But I will.’ His presence was dark; ominous. ‘And you will have to agree to fire up this console if you ever hope to see the rest of Dunnett’s blueprints.’
    ‘That’s blackmail.’
    ‘Yes. It is,’ replied Sebastian with an annoying grimace. He was so close that Leslie could count his nasal hairs.
    ‘Very well,’ replied Leslie, continuing to labour under this short but awkwardly close encounter with Sebastian’s face. ‘But I know she’ll come down straight away when I return to the office.’
    Sebastian did not reply, but continued to linger at an unacceptably close range to Leslie’s nose.
    Leslie had not backed away but he did visibly relax his stance when Sebastian finally stepped back away from him.
    ‘Just set it up and leave the rest to me. We’re all in this together,’ said Sebastian waving his arms in slow motion from the chairs in which they sat and up towards the console room above. ‘We have to learn to trust one another, consul.’
    Leslie did a small double take. He had always been told never to trust anyone who said ‘Trust me’. But he was as intrigued as Sebastian by the possibility of thought transference and he figured that any misappropriation of power would be dealt with severely by the president. Elizabeth was friendly enough to him, but it was also true that she had a reputation for ferocity when threatened.
    So Leslie went about his business in the console room and did not emerge until the following morning. He was unshaven and grubby and sitting back in the transference seat when Sebastian returned.
    Leslie looked up. His eyes were tired and he had bags beneath them. ‘How did you know I was finished?’ he asked.
    ‘Surveillance,’ replied Sebastian.
    Leslie cast his eye quickly around the chamber but he could see nothing.
    ‘So. Is it done?’
    Leslie nodded.
    ‘Excellent,’ replied Sebastian. The murky depths of his eyes widened momentarily with pleasure.
    ‘But you can’t use it yet.’
    ‘Why not?’ Sebastian snapped back, his grin blown away.
    ‘Because (a) you don’t know if it’s safe; (b) you don’t have permission, but mainly because (c) the box is empty.’
    ‘Box?’
    ‘The transference box. The black box. It will need I.Q. stored in it before we can use it.’
    ‘How can we do that?’
    ‘It’s relatively simple,’ replied Leslie uneasily. ‘Listen. Don’t do anything until you’ve talked to the president.’
    ‘She’ll be here any minute,’ replied Sebastian with a calculated smile. ‘I took the liberty of calling her when I saw that you were finished. I hope that you don’t mind?’
    Leslie didn’t mind at all. In fact, he was delighted. His great fear was that he would leave and that this odd-ball man would do something rash before Elizabeth could stop him.
    Minutes later, two large guards appeared and moved to either side of the transference room door. Elizabeth pushed past them and entered the room. It buzzed with latent electrical current and the console room above was alight with computer thought.
    Elizabeth smiled. ‘Is it done?’ she asked Leslie.
    He nodded. She embraced him.
    ‘Excellent,’ she said, clasping her hands together in great excitement. Her eyes flashed and her dark hair tossed around her delightful face like soft pillows of cloud blown gently above a sun lighted ocean.
    ‘We must test the device first,’ said Leslie.
    ‘Of course. Of course,’ she agreed. ‘No one is to use this unit without my permission. This entire library is to be locked until further notice.’
    ‘And