"The formula, Doctor. You promised us a formula. Where is it?" Dr. Memnar blinked in the harsh glare of the light. The straps restraining his hands and feet were slowly cutting off his circulation. He squirmed in discomfort -- a disheveled little man pinned under the harsh thumb of a Great Power. "Please, I -- the formula, it's no good. I'm sorry. It's a failure. It's dangerous. I have tried it. It is torture --" Dr. Memnar trailed off in sobs. "Give us the formula, Doctor. We will decide if it is dangerous." The Doctor did not respond. Something was wrong. His body convulsed. The straps broke. Inside a torn building littered with torn bodies, a few bits of shredded clothing were the only trace that Doctor Memnar had been a scientist there? |
