They reached the far end of the room. There was a wide, Plexiglas window there, affording a view into another, much smaller laboratory. It was almost a miniature, scale model of the one in which they stood, replete with everything except the vats, the conveyor belts, and the oddly shaped machines.

Private lab, Solo thought. And inside there had to be the man who was behind all this, the head of the THRUSH project, the developer of the salt chemical. One of the guards opened a door set beside the Plexiglas window, and they stepped inside.

The private lab was soundproofed. As soon as the door was shut, the outside noises ceased. There was only the gentle bubbling of liquid in the spiraling tubing that connected two small glass jars at one end.

A man sat on a high stool before a group of test tubes on the long, single bench that covered the length of the room. He was writing furiously on a piece of yellow paper. He seemed not to have heard them enter. "Dr. Sagine?" one of the guards said.

The man made no response.

"Dr. Sagine?" the guard said, louder this time.

The man looked up irritably. "Yes, yes, what is it? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"You asked us to bring him down," the guard said, pushing Napoleon Solo forward with his free hand.

"Well, all right. You've brought him," the man said. "Wait outside."

"Hadn't we better..."

"Wait outside, I told you!"

"Yes, sir."

The two guards left the room.

Solo stood looking at the man on the high stool. He felt a faint revulsion.

The man was the ugliest individual he had ever seen. He was chinless, with a wetly protruding lower lip. He was very short, almost gnome-like, with a huge head and a bushy mop of shoulder length, jaundice-colored hair. His skin was pale, an unhealthy white color, and bushy yellow brows topped bright, gray eyes that reminded Solo of rodent's.

Sagine was bent over the yellow piece of paper once again. Solo waited. The man finished his writing, swiveled on the stool, and broke the pencil he had been using in half. He threw the two pieces over his shoulder, staring at Solo.

"MR. U.N.C.L.E. agent, is it?" the man said. "Got you, didn't we? Nerve gas. Breaks most men down. You're a strong one, you are, but we'll break you. Watched you in the cell, you know. Watched you the whole time in there. View plates in the walls. Thought you were going to drink the soup. Did you guess it was drugged? Of course you did. You're a smart man, MR: U.N.C.L.E. agent, but we'll break you. Oh yes, we'll break you."

Solo stared at the man. He was obviously quite mad. The short staccato speech had been clipped off in a reedy, high-pitched voice. If the man spoke that way, then he must think in the same manner, a thousand confused, whirling thoughts spinning in his mind. Solo shuddered involuntarily, remembering how his own thoughts had spun, how close he had come to madness himself.

Yes, this man was mad, all right. But he was also very dangerous. Solo would not make the mistake of underrating him.

He said, "Just who are you?"

"Who am I? Who am I? Dr. Sagine, that's who. Dr. Mordecai Sagine. The finest chemist in the world. They laughed at me; did you know that? I showed them. Oh, yes, I showed them. They won't laugh now, you know. I developed the Sagine formula. I did it. Took me ten years."

Solo tried to extract some logical sense from the man's diatribe. He had never heard of Dr. Mordecai Sagine, but the man doubtless was the inventor of the chemical. And as such, he would know what THRUSH was planning to do with it. All else was unimportant now.

Solo said, "I must admit, it took a brilliant mind to perfect such a process as you have here."

"You agree, do you?" Dr. Sagine said. "You're intelligent, MR. U.N.C.L.E. agent. The rest of them weren't. Fools, all of them."

"There must be a great number of uses you can put your discovery to," Solo said.

"Uses, eh? Only one use, MR. U.N.C.L.E. agent. The ultimate use. My name will be legend, did you know that? I will be immortalized. THRUSH has promised me. Oh, yes. Dr. Mordecai Sagine."

"What use will your chemical be put to, Dr. Sagine?" Solo asked softly. A crafty look crept into Dr. Sagine's fevered eyes. "Trying to get information out of me, are you? Well, no matter. Nothing you can do about it. We'll break you like a stick, Mr. U.N.C.L.E. agent."

Dr. Sagine hopped down off the stool and walked in a shuffling, crab-like step to where a door stood at the far end of the private lab. Solo followed him. Dr. Sagine opened the door, stepped through, turned to see if Napoleon Solo was behind him, and then went to a desk in the middle of the adjoining room and sat down in a chair behind it, folding his arms across his chest.

"Well?" he said. Solo frowned. "Your office."

"Look there," Dr. Sagine said, pointing to what appeared to be a blank wall. Then he pressed a button somewhere beneath the desk. The wall slid back, revealing a Plexiglas window much like the one in the laboratory.

The first thing Solo saw was blue sky. Blue sky, dotted with gently rolling clouds. In the distance, he could see snow-capped mountain peaks. He went to the window quickly, looking out.

Below him, and to the side, he saw sheer walls of granite. This fortress is hollowed out of solid rock, he thought. Near the top of a mountain. Below him was a precipitous drop of what he guessed must be in excess of a thousand feet. A canyon lay down there, and there was the tiny, winding line of a river that flowed through it. To his left, where the walls of granite curved, receding, he could see the edges of a road that had been carved in the mountainside.

"Well?" Dr. Sagine said. "What do you see, MR. U.N.C.L.E. agent?

Solo said nothing. The snow-capped mountains in the distance reminded him of something. He had seen them before. Where...

"Do you see the river down there?" Dr. Sagine said. "Do you?"

"I see it," Solo said. He was trying to remember.

"Do you know what river that is?" Dr. Sagine asked him.

Solo got it then. Pike's Peak. He and Illya had been to Denver once on an assignment, and they had... The river! Of course, there was only one it could be.

"The Colorado River!" Napoleon Solo said.

"Yes, yes, the Colorado," Dr. Sagine said. "Quite correct." He laughed maniacally. "Four hours to go. Exactly four hours. Going to put the Sagine formula in that Colorado River down there, you know. Going to turn that river into a frozen bed of rock salt. What do you think of that, MR. U.N.C.L.E. agent?"

Solo spun it round. The Colorado River, the most important river in the Western United States. If it were crystallized, thousands of fertile acres of agricultural land in Arizona, Utah, Nevada and California that depended on water from the Colorado for irrigation would be reduced to barren wasteland. Electrical power derived from the huge dynamos at Hoover Dam would cease. Hundreds of thousands of people would be without drinking water.

"Only the first step, you know," Dr. Sagine said. "THRUSH wants a major test. After that, the formula goes into every main body of fresh water in the world. Simultaneously. Oh, yes, the Great Lakes, the Mississippi River, the Nile, The Amazon, the Congo, the Huang. All of them. In the mountains, too. Melting snow. All the fresh water reduced to rock salt. Millions of people at my mercy. I'm the only one who knows the antidote. The only one."

Spittle flecked Dr. Sagine's deformed lower lip. Solo stared at him, speechless. "Two days," Dr. Sagine said, his mad eyes alive with the fever of his affliction. "Two days to immortality! I'll have my revenge then. Oh. yes, they'll be sorry they laughed at me. THRUSH will see to that. Going to force the world powers to surrender under their terms. Extinction by thirst and famine if they don't. Tidal floods, too. I can do that. Just put in too much of the antidote. Food everything. Two days, Mr. U.N.C.L.E. agent. Two days, and THRUSH and I will rule the world!"