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‘Yes.’ Like Burnett, Schmidt had no idea whatsoever what to make of it.
‘Is the man mad, a crackpot or just a cunning devil?’
‘A cunning devil, that’s quite obvious.’ Schmidt pondered. ‘Of course, there’s nothing to prevent him from being all three at the same time.’
‘What do you reckon our chances are of getting out of here?’
‘Zero.’
‘What do you reckon our chances are of getting out of here alive?’
‘The same. He can’t afford to let us live. We could identify them afterwards.’
‘You honestly think he’d be prepared to kill all of us in cold blood?’
‘He’d have to.’ Schmidt hesitated. ‘Can’t be sure. Seems civilized enough in his own odd-ball way. Could be a veneer, of course – but just possibly he might be a man with a mission.’ Schmidt helped his meditation along by emptying his glass, left and returned with a refill. ‘Could even be prepared to bargain our lives against freedom from persecution. Speaking no ill of the others, of course’ – he clearly was – ‘but with four top-ranking nuclear physicists in his hands he holds pretty strong cards to deal with either State or government, as the case may be.’
‘Government. No question. Dr Durrer of ERDA would have called in the FBI hours ago. And while we may be important enough we mustn’t overlook the tremendous emotional factor of having two innocent women as hostages. The nation will clamour for the release of all of us, irrespective of whether it means stopping the wheels of justice.’
‘It’s a hope.’ Schmidt was glum. ‘We could be whistling in the dark. If only we knew what Morro was up to. All right, we suspect it’s some form of nuclear blackmail because we can’t see what else it could be: but what form we can’t even begin to guess.’
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