Read Online The Menacers by Donald Hamilton - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Donald Hamilton
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bet it was as good as a TV show: the people from outer space are upon us; the conquest of Earth begins; E-day is here! Is that it?”
She didn’t answer at once. She was getting pretty tight; it showed in her careful movements and owl-solemn expression and unladylike, legs-apart posture, sitting there on the bed. When she spoke again, her voice was thick and the words were slurred.
“Damn you!” she blurted. “Damn you, you think you know everything, don’t you? Well, I don’t give a damn what you think! They
were
human, damn you. They were ordinary human men in ordinary human uniforms, how do you like that? Ordinary U.S. Air Force uniforms! And that overgrown dish they were flying had U.S.A.F. insignia on it. And how do you like
that
, Killer Helm…?”
8
In the morning, I got up stiffly from the chair in which I’d spent the night—what had been left of it after Netta had passed out on the bed. I went into the bathroom and shaved without closing the door.
I’ve heard of men who have great ideas while shaving, but it’s never happened to me, and it didn’t now. Even after a wakeful night to work on it, I couldn’t decide what to think about what the girl had told me. Of course, it did explain certain things, for instance why I’d been sent here to bring her back or shut her up permanently.
Obviously somebody in Washington, after hearing the taped interview, had panicked at the possibility that she might blab her story around. The idea that the U.S. was operating strange and dangerous flying machines over friendly foreign territory, and blasting friendly foreign boats and citizens with death rays in the interest of total secrecy, was one that the image-conscious gents in the nation’s capital would feel must be kept from spreading by any means, no matter how drastic. This could well apply whether the idea was true or false.
But the main questions remained unanswered: was the kid actually telling the truth, or what she thought was the truth, and if so, just what had she really seen?
On the one hand, I knew of no reason for her to lie—which didn’t mean that none existed. On the other hand, her story wasn’t very plausible, at least not to a patriotic American who loyally endorsed his Air Force’s scoffing attitude towards pies in the skies. To such a steadfast citizen, the thought that the U.S.A.F. might have had something up its sleeve all the time it was dismissing various odd celestial phenomena as marsh gas or the planet Venus, would of course be unthinkable.
Unfortunately, many people in the world had always been sadly skeptical about our flyboys’ pronouncements concerning UFOs. This included even Americans who, like me, had seen things in the heavens they couldn’t explain. And the disturbing fact was that the events the girl had described could easily have taken place pretty much the way she’d described them. You didn’t even have to subscribe to her “death ray” to believe the rest of the story.
Say that a secret, experimental U.S. aircraft, crippled and on fire, had descended into the sea, shedding some flaming debris that just happened to land on top of an innocent Mexican fishing vessel. To a girl in the water, dazed and scared, the half-submerged wreckage of the plane—whatever its original appearance—could easily have looked like one of the much-publicized saucers of which she’d doubtless seen photos and sketches galore…
Well, it wasn’t my problem. I had troubles of my own. First I had to get a hungover and disheveled young lady in shape to appear in public. She groaned when I first shook her, peeked at me resentfully on the second shake, and sat up groggily on the third, swinging her bare feet to the floor and pushing the tangled hair out of her face.
“Oh, God,” she said. “What do you want, dad?”
“Not you,” I said. “But you might pull down your skirt a bit just the same. It isn’t fair to tease the animals.”
She tugged ineffectually at the
She didn’t answer at once. She was getting pretty tight; it showed in her careful movements and owl-solemn expression and unladylike, legs-apart posture, sitting there on the bed. When she spoke again, her voice was thick and the words were slurred.
“Damn you!” she blurted. “Damn you, you think you know everything, don’t you? Well, I don’t give a damn what you think! They
were
human, damn you. They were ordinary human men in ordinary human uniforms, how do you like that? Ordinary U.S. Air Force uniforms! And that overgrown dish they were flying had U.S.A.F. insignia on it. And how do you like
that
, Killer Helm…?”
8
In the morning, I got up stiffly from the chair in which I’d spent the night—what had been left of it after Netta had passed out on the bed. I went into the bathroom and shaved without closing the door.
I’ve heard of men who have great ideas while shaving, but it’s never happened to me, and it didn’t now. Even after a wakeful night to work on it, I couldn’t decide what to think about what the girl had told me. Of course, it did explain certain things, for instance why I’d been sent here to bring her back or shut her up permanently.
Obviously somebody in Washington, after hearing the taped interview, had panicked at the possibility that she might blab her story around. The idea that the U.S. was operating strange and dangerous flying machines over friendly foreign territory, and blasting friendly foreign boats and citizens with death rays in the interest of total secrecy, was one that the image-conscious gents in the nation’s capital would feel must be kept from spreading by any means, no matter how drastic. This could well apply whether the idea was true or false.
But the main questions remained unanswered: was the kid actually telling the truth, or what she thought was the truth, and if so, just what had she really seen?
On the one hand, I knew of no reason for her to lie—which didn’t mean that none existed. On the other hand, her story wasn’t very plausible, at least not to a patriotic American who loyally endorsed his Air Force’s scoffing attitude towards pies in the skies. To such a steadfast citizen, the thought that the U.S.A.F. might have had something up its sleeve all the time it was dismissing various odd celestial phenomena as marsh gas or the planet Venus, would of course be unthinkable.
Unfortunately, many people in the world had always been sadly skeptical about our flyboys’ pronouncements concerning UFOs. This included even Americans who, like me, had seen things in the heavens they couldn’t explain. And the disturbing fact was that the events the girl had described could easily have taken place pretty much the way she’d described them. You didn’t even have to subscribe to her “death ray” to believe the rest of the story.
Say that a secret, experimental U.S. aircraft, crippled and on fire, had descended into the sea, shedding some flaming debris that just happened to land on top of an innocent Mexican fishing vessel. To a girl in the water, dazed and scared, the half-submerged wreckage of the plane—whatever its original appearance—could easily have looked like one of the much-publicized saucers of which she’d doubtless seen photos and sketches galore…
Well, it wasn’t my problem. I had troubles of my own. First I had to get a hungover and disheveled young lady in shape to appear in public. She groaned when I first shook her, peeked at me resentfully on the second shake, and sat up groggily on the third, swinging her bare feet to the floor and pushing the tangled hair out of her face.
“Oh, God,” she said. “What do you want, dad?”
“Not you,” I said. “But you might pull down your skirt a bit just the same. It isn’t fair to tease the animals.”
She tugged ineffectually at the
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