The Medusa Touch Page #6

I'm here for such a short time...

You've made it warm, it's what I expected.

- could I offer you a drink?

- Whisky, please.

Please, sit down.

- Anything?

- No, as it is.

I lied to you when I told you

I'd never seen him again.

I never saw him in the office again.

But I did see him.

I lied because I knew so much more

and what I knew seemed so incredible.

You said it was urgent, I've had to leave

a situation I'd rather not have left.

I'm sorry, but it was urgent to me.

I'm surprised you found something

so important

worth the attention of a witch doctor.

When you're not being obvious,

I have hopes for you.

You don't believe

I could cause my wife's death.

- But I don't...

- Please, listen to me.

It wasn't just my wife, it was all of them.

I made them happen: Copley, the children,

all of them, I made them happen.

- I made That school burn.

- You couldn't.

It's true, I made that school burn.

I killed my mother, I killed my father.

Even my nurse, I made it happen.

You don't believe me?

It might be useful if I gave you

something to help you sleep tonight,

then we'll meet in my office tomorrow.

I don't want your pills

or to be condescended to like some moron.

I tell you something.

I commanded it to happen!

- You still don't believe me.

- We'll talk about it tomorrow.

Tomorrow!

For God's sake, Zonfeld,

I killed my father, I killed my mother,

I killed my wife.

It's not just a damned headache.

What am I? How can I will death?

I'm going.

- I'll hold a space open at 11 o'clock.

- you stay here.

Tomorrow.

Not tomorrow.

Now.

Something's wrong.

You've got full power.

It's not responding!

Give me flaps 10.

It's all gone haywire, here!

What I don't understand is...

...why is it always destructive?

Sometimes when I'm alone at night,

I've thought I've created all

the world's disasters,

but it's not true.

We're all the Devil's children.

We find what powers the sun

and we make bombs of it.

We create wealth

and we become obsessed with greed.

We achieve power and we go mad.

We always destroy. Why, Zonfeld?

Reports are just coming in

that a Jumbo Jet has crashed

in Central London.

Over 300 people are believed

to have been on board the plane.

Unconfirmed reports say

that the plane plunged

into an office block and exploded,

falling debris has set fire to a cinema

and many people

have been killed.

Traffic in the West End

has been brought to a standstill.

It's not yet known what caused the crash.

That is the end of this News Flash.

Help me, Zonfeld, before I go mad.

I could help no one that night.

When I left those rooms I believed...

...what I'd seen.

When I got home I wasn't so certain.

It seemed so beyond belief.

Beyond belief.

Yes.

When I saw what I saw in that hospital

I felt I had to tell you.

I won't disturb you anymore.

Thank you.

I'm grateful you came.

What did you make of that.

The victim's obviously a nut

and now it turns out

her psychiatrist is one too.

What are you really thinking?

She just hasn't finished yet.

Do you think she did it?

No, Inspector,

that's a bit too much of a jump.

But why kill him?

It must have been because she believed

he was going to do something worse.

Worse than the Jumbo Jet disaster?

Certainly something worse

than she would be doing by killing him.

As you say it's not important,

what is important is whether you're right.

If you are right in getting a confession

that will stand up in court.

Where are you going?

Excuse me, what is this for?

We're getting ready for the

Thanksgiving Service tomorrow evening.

The Queen, the Commonwealth

Prime Ministers, it's for that.

3 million pounds

- It's not enough.

- what?

The West Front's cracking.

It goes right through to the nave.

If that goes, the whole lot goes.

The tower's too heavy,

the foundations can't support it anymore.

They're worried about cracks

on the West front.

We shall see.

I am the man

with the power to create catastrophe.

Terri, I said I didn't want to be...

I convinced her you would see me.

Of course.

I thought perhaps we should talk.

You've decided, have you?

It's been such a problem for me.

I can't live with this knowledge

or die with it.

I assume there were reasons.

Yes, there were reasons.

He came to see me at my home

after the Jumbo crash,

through all the chaos and the traffic.

For me the reality, ruined building,

ambulance men, broken bodies,

made what I'd seen in his flat seem

all the more impossible.

He sensed that immediately and he left

before we'd exchanged two sentences.

The next night he called,

he sounded unstable.

He said:

"The space shot is nearing the moon.

In 2 hours it goes into orbit.

You have my word it won't return".

While you're worrying about

that billion dollar coffin

striking the moon,

spare a thought for the millions

they might have fed with all

that technology and expertise.

How concerned all our great statesmen are

about those three

wonderful human beings

while millions of others rot to death.

Listen, Zonfeld, listen to me.

I've found a way to do

God's dirty work for him.

The Royal Chieftain, the parasites

and the whole gang

of international rabble rousers,

are going to bleat to the Almighty nothing

in his great Temple

to give praise for 3 million pounds.

I promise you,

the moment they kneel to pray

I will bring the whole edifice down

on their unworthy heads.

He sounded quite mad,

yet I believed every word he said.

I had to go to him.

The streets were deserted,

even the police were more concerned

with their traffic accidents than space.

No one saw me, no one cared.

The porter didn't even look up

from his television set.

I didn't know what I was going to do.

It's unlocked, come in.

I thought you'd come.

Just a moment, I don't want to miss this.

I've poured you a drink.

I thought we ought

to be civilised about it.

He sat watching

the last moments of catastrophe.

Those were the last words,

they had lost radio contact.

Achilles 6, the mission

that was to inaugurate

man's first permanent station on the moon

was locked into an orbit

that, unless some miracle occurs,

will produce the first

American disaster in space.

Even then I thought

I might somehow stop it.

For a moment he had turned me to a stone.

A response at last.

I knew as long as he lived

that there was no way of stopping it.

And I failed.

I couldn't tell anyone,

no one would believe me.

They'd say the madness was mine.

And perhaps it was.

Then we are mad together.

I have seen the Cathedral and I think

I know what's keeping him alive.

There's nothing you can do,

no one will believe you.

I'm going to try.

I wish you luck.

You're not arresting me?

It's a question of priorities.

You found the murderer, but two crack pots

don't add up to one good theory.

- I still don't believe you.

- To begin with Morlar isn't dead.

He's fighting to live

with superhuman resistance, right?

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