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I took over Timmy's helpless body eight years ago too abruptly and with many errors but it insured my survival for a short time at least. Now that time is at an end and the greater part of what I must do is still to be done " Phil sat with his face averted, his hands clenched between his knees. "The instinct to survive," he said in a muffled voice.
Timmy's face was sometimes radiantly, spontaneously expressive, the most sensitive of mirrors, and sometimes it was rather mechanically expressive, but it was only expressive in a positive sense. In moments of abstraction or daydreaming there was no faraway look, no frown of concentration. Only blankness. "The world would get a trifle crowded, you know."
As long as he could remember, Timmy had been aware of what Nanna expressed by the phrase "things that were not there," and he was so accustomed to the phenomena that it did not impress his own mind as anything very much out of the way, or strange. Dr. O'Farrell had always shown a keen interest in Timmy's alleged visions and presentiments.
Sergeant Madden's face went blank. Timmy's girl was on the Cerberus. Then he growled and riffled swiftly through the operations-report sheets that had come in since his tour of duty began. He found the one he looked for. Yes. Patrolman Timothy Madden was now in overdrive in squad ship 740, delivering the monthly precinct report to Headquarters. He would be back in eight days.
I'm quite sure she has no unsuspected bad habits or traits that are leaving sensitive spots in Timmy's mind, making him flinch at the association, nor is there some long-standing or unresolved conflict in their relations. Yet 'home' and 'mother' both invoke blocks that inhibit response until consciously overcome, or invoke images that he wishes to conceal lest they betray a secret.
Why shouldn't I have a little to-day, too? Here, Tom, you take my meat, and I'll have your macaroni cheese." He did not wait for Tom's assent to this peculiar proposal, and was proceeding to effect the exchange when Tom muttered crossly, while yet, or so Radmore fancied, casting rather longing eyes at Timmy's plate.
The girl came up. "Yes, father?" "What did you do with Timmy's cat?" "I put her back in the scullery, with her kittens. They only opened their eyes yesterday. Of course Timmy ought never to have brought her into the drawing-room." Dr. O'Farrell looked much relieved. He turned round: "Oh, she's just had kittens, has she? That probably accounts for the whole thing." Mrs. Crofton roused herself.
Maybe a trifle less, with his girl due to arrive on the Cerberus in nine and him to be married in ten. But Sergeant Madden swore. As a prospective bridegroom, Timmy's place was on this call for help to the Cerberus. But he wasn't available. It was in his line, because it was specifically a traffic job.
He asked the question in a quiet, matter-of-fact tone. "Yes, my little friend, mad or not mad, she's deserved death and no one must go near her till the fell deed is done!" And then, as he suddenly caught sight of Timmy's strained, agonised face, he added kindly: "She'll be in the cats' heaven before she knows she's touched.
In addition, I could have completed the work that nature left incomplete in all of you, and so have released his full, enormous capabilities. I could have done all this can still do it and still leave Timmy's ego untouched, to develop in its own way, among its own kind, knowing nothing of me for what I am." "But you haven't done so. Why? Why!" "I dared not." "Danger? From a small boy?"
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