Read Online Michaelmas by Algis Budrys - Free Book Online
Authors: Algis Budrys
Tags: Fiction, Science-Fiction
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right." Michaelmas slung the terminal over his shoul-der. "What if Cikoumas out in plain sight is intended to distract me from the character of the woman?"
"Oh?"
"Suppose they already know who I am. Then they must assume I've deduced everything. They must assume I'm fully prepared to act against them." Michaelmas softly closed the white-and-gilt door of the suite and strolled easily down the corridor with its tastefully striped wallpaper, its flowering carpet, and its scent of lilac sachet. He was smiling in his usual likeable manner. "So they set her on me. What else would account for her?" They stopped at the elevator and Michaelmas worked the bellpush.
"Perhaps simply a desire to keep tab on a famous inves-tigative reporter who might sniff out something wrong with their desired story. Perhaps nothing in particular. Perhaps she's just a country girl, after all. Why not?"
"Are you telling me my thesis won't hold water?"
"A bathtub will hold water. A canteen normally suffices."
The elevator arrived. Michaelmas smiled warmly at the operator, took a stand in a corner, and brushed fussily at the lapels of his coat as the car dropped towards the lobby.
"What am I do to?" Michaelmas said in his throat. "What is she?"
"I have a report from our helicopter," Domino said abruptly. "They are two kilometres behind Watson's craft. They are approaching the mountainside above Limberg's sanatorium. Watson's unit is losing altitude very quickly. They have an engine failure."
"What kind of terrain is that?" Michaelmas said.
The elevator operator's head turned. "Bitte sehr?"
Michaelmas shook his head, blushing.
Domino said: "Very rough, with considerable wind gust-ing. Watson is being blown towards the cliff face. His craft is side-slipping. It may clear. No, one of the vanes has made contact with a spur. The fuselage is swinging. The cabin has struck. The tail rotor has sheared. There's a heavy impact at the base of the cliff. There is an explosion."
The elevator bounced delicately to a stop. The doors chucked open. "The main lobby, Herr Mikelmaas."
Michaelmas said : "Dear God." He stepped out into the lobby and looked around blankly.
Six
Clementine Gervaise came up briskly. She had changed into a tweed suit and a thin soft blouse with a scarf at the throat. "The crew is driving the equipment to the sanatorium already,"
she said. "Your hired car is waiting for us outside." She cocked her head and looked closely at him. "Laurent, is something amiss?"
He fussed with his carnation. "No. We must hurry, Clementine." Her eau de cologne reminded him how good it was to breathe of one familiar person when the streets were full of strangers. Her garments whispered as she strode across the lobby carpeting beside him. The majordomo held the door. The chauffeured Citroën was at the foot of the steps. They were in, the door was pressed shut, the car pulled away from the kerb, and they were driving through the city towards the mountain highway. The soft cushions put them close to one another. He sat looking straight ahead, showing little.
"We have to beat the best in the world this morning," he remarked. "People like Annelise Volkert, Hampton de Courcy, Melvin Watson ..."
"She shows no special reaction," Domino said in his skull. "She's clean—on that count."
He closed his eyes for a moment. Then in his throat he said, "That doesn't prove much," while she was saying:
"Yes, but I'm sure you will do it." She put her arm through his. "And I will make you see we are an excellent team."
Domino told him : "The Soviet cosmonaut command has just covertly shifted Captain Anatoly Rybakov from routine domestic programmes to active standby status on the expeditionary project. He is to immediately begin accelerated training in the simulator at Tyura Tam. That is a Top Urgent instruction on highest secret priority landline from Moscow to the cosmodrome."
Rybakov. He was getting a little long in the tooth—es-pecially for a captain—and he had
"Oh?"
"Suppose they already know who I am. Then they must assume I've deduced everything. They must assume I'm fully prepared to act against them." Michaelmas softly closed the white-and-gilt door of the suite and strolled easily down the corridor with its tastefully striped wallpaper, its flowering carpet, and its scent of lilac sachet. He was smiling in his usual likeable manner. "So they set her on me. What else would account for her?" They stopped at the elevator and Michaelmas worked the bellpush.
"Perhaps simply a desire to keep tab on a famous inves-tigative reporter who might sniff out something wrong with their desired story. Perhaps nothing in particular. Perhaps she's just a country girl, after all. Why not?"
"Are you telling me my thesis won't hold water?"
"A bathtub will hold water. A canteen normally suffices."
The elevator arrived. Michaelmas smiled warmly at the operator, took a stand in a corner, and brushed fussily at the lapels of his coat as the car dropped towards the lobby.
"What am I do to?" Michaelmas said in his throat. "What is she?"
"I have a report from our helicopter," Domino said abruptly. "They are two kilometres behind Watson's craft. They are approaching the mountainside above Limberg's sanatorium. Watson's unit is losing altitude very quickly. They have an engine failure."
"What kind of terrain is that?" Michaelmas said.
The elevator operator's head turned. "Bitte sehr?"
Michaelmas shook his head, blushing.
Domino said: "Very rough, with considerable wind gust-ing. Watson is being blown towards the cliff face. His craft is side-slipping. It may clear. No, one of the vanes has made contact with a spur. The fuselage is swinging. The cabin has struck. The tail rotor has sheared. There's a heavy impact at the base of the cliff. There is an explosion."
The elevator bounced delicately to a stop. The doors chucked open. "The main lobby, Herr Mikelmaas."
Michaelmas said : "Dear God." He stepped out into the lobby and looked around blankly.
Six
Clementine Gervaise came up briskly. She had changed into a tweed suit and a thin soft blouse with a scarf at the throat. "The crew is driving the equipment to the sanatorium already,"
she said. "Your hired car is waiting for us outside." She cocked her head and looked closely at him. "Laurent, is something amiss?"
He fussed with his carnation. "No. We must hurry, Clementine." Her eau de cologne reminded him how good it was to breathe of one familiar person when the streets were full of strangers. Her garments whispered as she strode across the lobby carpeting beside him. The majordomo held the door. The chauffeured Citroën was at the foot of the steps. They were in, the door was pressed shut, the car pulled away from the kerb, and they were driving through the city towards the mountain highway. The soft cushions put them close to one another. He sat looking straight ahead, showing little.
"We have to beat the best in the world this morning," he remarked. "People like Annelise Volkert, Hampton de Courcy, Melvin Watson ..."
"She shows no special reaction," Domino said in his skull. "She's clean—on that count."
He closed his eyes for a moment. Then in his throat he said, "That doesn't prove much," while she was saying:
"Yes, but I'm sure you will do it." She put her arm through his. "And I will make you see we are an excellent team."
Domino told him : "The Soviet cosmonaut command has just covertly shifted Captain Anatoly Rybakov from routine domestic programmes to active standby status on the expeditionary project. He is to immediately begin accelerated training in the simulator at Tyura Tam. That is a Top Urgent instruction on highest secret priority landline from Moscow to the cosmodrome."
Rybakov. He was getting a little long in the tooth—es-pecially for a captain—and he had
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