按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
〃No…we waited for the engineers to pull us back。〃
〃But I kicked; I propelled myself from here; from a minute ago。〃 He looked at the door through which the two men had run。 〃If that puter has registered a power loss; I did it。 Do you suppose they'll take it out of my pay?〃
They were outside in the warm sunshine of a summer afternoon。 The Illinois sky was dark and clouded in the far west; promising a night storm。
Arthur Saltus looked at the storm clouds and asked: 〃I wonder if those engineers were sweeping bilge? Do you think they really know what they're talking about? Power surges and time paths and water that won't leak?〃
Chaney shrugged。 〃A hair perhaps divides the false from the true。 They have the advantage。〃
Saltus gave him a sharp glance。 〃You're borrowing again…and I think you've changed it to boot。〃
〃A word or two;〃 Chaney acknowledged。 〃Do you recall the rest of it? The remaining three lines of the verse?〃
〃No。〃
Chaney repeated the verse; and Saltus said: 〃Yes。〃
〃All right; mander。 That machine down there is our Alif; the TDV is an Alif。 With it; we can search for the treasure house。〃
〃Maybe。〃
〃No maybes: we can。 We can search out all the treasure houses in history。 The archeologists and the historians will go crazy with joy。〃 He followed the man's gaze to the west; where he thought he heard low thunder。 〃If this wasn't a political project it wouldn't be wasted on Chicago。 The Smithsonian would have a different use for the vehicle。〃
〃Hah…I can read your mind; civilian! You wouldn't go up at all; you'd go back。 You'd go scooting back to the year Zero; or some such; and watch those old scribes make scrolls。 You've got a one…track mind。〃
〃Not so;〃 Chaney denied。 〃And there was no year Zero。 But you're right about one thing: I wouldn't go up。 Not with all the treasure houses of history waiting to be opened; explored; cataloged。 I wouldn't go up。〃
〃Where then; mister? Back where?〃
Chaney said dreamily: 〃Eridu; Larsa; Nippur; Kish; Kufah; Nineveh; Uruk 。 。 。〃
〃But those are just old…old cities; I guess。〃
〃Old cities; old towns; long dead and gone…as Chicago will be when its turn es。 They are the treasure houses; mander。 I want to stand on the city wall at Ur and watch the Euphrates flood; I want to know how that story got into Genesis。 I want to stand on the plains before Uruk and see Gilgamesh rebuild the city walls; I want to see that legendary fight with Enkidu。
〃But more; I want to stand in the forests of Kadesh and see Muwatallis turn back the Egyptian tide。 I think you'd both like to see that。 Muwatallis was out…manned; out…wheeled; lacking everything but guts and intelligence; he caught Ramses' army separated into four divisions and what he did to them changed the course of Western history。 It happened three thousand years ago but if the Hittites had lost…if Ramses had beaten Muwatallis…wc'd likely be Egyptian subjects today。〃
Saltus: 〃I can't speak the language。〃
〃You would be speaking it…or some local dialect…if Ramses had won。〃 A gesture。 〃But that's what I'd do if I had the Alif and the freedom of choice。〃
Arthur Saltus stood lost in thought; looking at the western cloudbank。 The thunder was clearly heard。
After a space he said: 〃I can't think of a blessed thing; mister。 Not one thing I'd want to see。 I may as well go up to Chicago。〃
〃I stand in awe before a contented man;〃 Chaney said。 〃The dust bin of history is no more than that。〃
EIGHT
Brian Chaney was splashing in the pool the next morning before most of the station personnel had finished their breakfasts。 He swam alone; enjoying the luxury of solitude after his customary walk from the barracks。 The early morning sun was blindingly bright on the water; a contrast from the night just past: the station had been raked by a severe thunderstorm during the night; and blown debris still littered the streets。
Chaney turned on his back and filled his lungs with air; to float lazily on the surface of the pool。 He was contented。 His eyes closed to shut out the brightness。
He could almost imagine himself back on the Florida beach…back to that day when he loafed at the water's edge; watching the gulls and the distant sail and doing nothing more strenuous than speculating on the inner fears of the critics and readers who had damned him and damned his translation of the Revelations scroll。 Yes; and back to the day before he'd met Katrina。 Chaney hadn't been aware of a personal vacuum then; but when they parted…when this mission was finished…he would be aware of one。 He would miss the woman。 Parting pany with Katrina would hurt; and when he went back to the beach he'd be keenly aware of the new vacuum。
He had been unnecessarily rude to her when she first approached him; and he regretted that now; he had believed her to be only another newspaper woman there to badger him。 He wasn't on civilized speaking terms with newspaper people。 Nor did Chaney like to admit to jealousy…a childish emotion…but Arthur Saltus had aroused in him some response suspiciously close to jealousy。 Saltus had moved in and boldly taken possession of the woman; another hurt。
But that wasn't the only hurt。
His trigger finger was sore; stiff; and his shoulder hurt like sin; they had assured him it was a light rifle but after an hour of firing it; Chaney wholly disbelieved them。 Even in his sleep the bullying figure of the Major stood over him; needling him: 〃Squeeze it; squeeze it; don't yank…don't jerk…squeeze it!〃 Chaney squeezed it and four or five times out of ten managed to hit the target。 He thought that remarkable; but his panions did not。 Moresby was so disgusted he tore the rifle from Chaney's grasp and put five shots through the bull's eye in the space between one breath and the next。
The hand gun was worse。 The Army model automatic seemed infinitely lighter when pared to the rifle; but because he could not use his left hand to lift and steady the barrel he missed the target eight times out of ten。 The two good shots were only on the rim of the target。
Moresby muttered: 〃Give the civilian a shotgun!〃 and stalked away。
Arthur Saltus had taught him camera techniques。
Chaney was familiar with the mon hand cameras and with the mounted rigs used in laboratories to copy documents; but Saltus introduced him to a new world。 The holograph camera was new。 Saltus said that film had been relegated to the cheap cameras; the holograph instruments used a thin ribbon of embossed nylon which would withstand almost any abuse and yet deliver a recognizable picture。 He scoured a nylon negative with sandpaper; then made a good print。 Adequate lighting was no longer a problem; the holograph would produce a satisfactory picture taken in the rain。
Chaney experimented with a camera strapped to his chest; with the lens peering through a buttonhole in his jacket where a button should be; there was another that fitted over his left shoulder; with the lens appearing to be a lodge emblem attached to his lapel…a remote cable ran down the inside of his coat sleeve and the plunger nestled in the palm of his hand。 A fat belt buckle held a camera。 A bowler hat concealed a camera。 A folded newspaper was actually a motion picture camera in camouflage; and a smart looking attaché case was another。 Microphones for the tape recorders…worn under the coat; or in the pocket…were buttons or emblems or tie clasps or stays tucked inside shirt collars。
He usually managed a decent picture…it was difficult to produce a poor one with the holograph instruments; but Saltus was often dissatisfied; pointing out this or that or the other thing which would have resulted in a sharper image or a more balanced position。 Katrina was photographed hundreds of times during the practice。 She appeared to endure it with patience。
Chaney expelled a burst of air and started to sink。 He flipped over on his stomach and swam under water to the edge of the pool。 Grasping the tiled rim; he hauled himself out of the water and stared up in surprise at the grinning face of Arthur Saltus。
〃Morning; civilian。 What's new in ancient Egypt?〃
Chaney peered past him。 〃Where is…?〃 He stopped。
〃I haven't seen her;〃 Saltus responded。 〃She wasn't in the mess hall…I thought she was here with you。〃
Chaney wiped his face with a towel。 〃Not here。 I've had the pool to myself。〃
〃Hah…maybe old William is beating our time; maybe he's playing chess with her in a dark corner somewhere。〃 Saltus grinned at that thought。 〃Guess what; mister?〃
〃What now?〃
〃I read your book last night。〃
〃Shall I run for cover; or stand up for a medal?〃
〃No; no; not that one。 I'm not interested in those old scrolls。 I mean the other book you gave me; the one about the desert tribes…old Abraham; and all。 Damn but that man made some fine pictures!〃 He sat down beside Chaney。 〃Remember that one of the Nabataean well or cistern or whatever it was; down there at the foot of the fortress?〃
〃I remember it。 Well built。 It served the fortress through more than one siege。〃
〃Sure。 The guy made that one with natural lighting。 No flash; no sun reflectors; nothing; just natural light; you can see the detail of the stonework and the water level。 And it was on film; too…he wasn't using nylon。〃
〃You can determine that by examination?〃
〃Well; of course! I can。 Listen; mister; that's good photography。 That man is good。〃
〃Thank you。 I'll tell him next time I see him。〃
Saltus said: 〃Maybe I'll read your book someday。 Just to find out why they're shooting at you。〃
〃It doesn't have pictures。〃
〃Oh; I can read all the easy words。〃 He stretched out his legs and stared up at the underside of the gaudy beach umbrella。 A spider was beginning a web between the metal braces。 〃This place is dead this morning。〃
〃What's to do? Other than a rousing game with the Major; or another session at the rifle range?〃
Saltus laughed。 〃Shoulder hurt? That will wear away。 Say; if I could find Katrina; I'd throw her into the pool and then jump in with her…that's where the action is!〃
Chaney thought it wisest not to answer。 His gaze went back to the sun…bright waters of the pool; now empty of swimmers and slowly regaining placidity。 He remembered the manner in which Saltus had played there with Katrina; but the memory wasn't a pleasant one。 He hadn't joined in the play because he felt self…conscious for the first time in his life; because his physique was a poor one pared to the muscular body of the mander; because the woman seemed to prefer the younger man's pany to his。 That was hurtful to admit。
Chaney caught a quick movement at the gate。
〃The Major has found us。〃
Major Moresby hustled into the recreation area and strode toward the pool; seeking them。 Halfway across the patio he found them beneath the umbrella and turned hard。 He was breathing heavily and his face flushed with excitement。
〃Get up off your duff!〃 he barked at the mander。 And to Chaney: 〃Get your clothes on。 Urgent。 They want us in the briefing room now。 I have a car waiting。〃
〃Hey…what goes?〃 Saltus was out of the chair。
〃We do。 Somebody has made the big decision。 Damn it; Chaney; move!〃
〃The field trials?〃 Saltus demanded。 〃The field trials? This morning? Now?〃
〃This morning; now;〃 Moresby acknowledged。 〃Gilbert Seabrooke brought the decision; they roused me out of bed。 We're moving up; after all!〃 He turned on Chaney。 〃Will you haul your ass out of that chair; civilian? Move it! I'm waiting; everybody is waiting; the vehicle is cranked up and waiting。〃
Chaney jumped from the chair; heart pounding against his rib cage。
Moresby: 〃Katrina said to use the car。 You are not to waste time walking; and that is an order。〃
Chaney's reflexes were slower; but he was already racing for the bath house to change。 They ran with him。 〃I'm not walking。〃
〃Where are we going?〃 Saltus demanded breathlessly。 〃I mean when? When in Joliet? Did you get the word?〃
〃Katrina gave the word。 You won't like it; Art。〃
Arthur Saltus stopped abruptly in the doorway and Chaney collided with him。
〃Why won't I like it?〃
〃Because it's a political thing; a dam