Read Online The Puppet Masters by Robert A. Heinlein - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Robert A. Heinlein
Ads: Link
Dotty baggage. Bare, Mary made nothing of it, and wore her skin with quiet dignity. But what I saw did nothing to cool down my feelings about her.
Mary had added considerably to the pile of hardware. I decided she just plain liked guns. Me, I’ve never found use for more than one.
Finally we were all mother naked and quite evidently free of parasites, except the Old Man himself and his secretary, Miss Haines. I think he was a bit in awe of Miss Haines; she was older than he and inclined to boss him. It dawned on me whom it had to be—if the Old Man were right. He could have been wrong; for all we knew the parasite might be on a ceiling girder, waiting to drop on someone’s neck.
The Old Man looked distressed and poked about in the pile of clothing with his cane. He knew that there was nothing in it—or perhaps be was really making sure. Finally he looked up at his secretary. “Miss Haines—if you please. You are next.”
I thought to myself. Brother, this time you are going to have to use force.
She did not move. She stood there, facing him down, a statue of offended virginity. I could see that he was about to take action, so I moved closer to him and said, out of the corner of my mouth, “Boss—how about yourself? Take ’em off.”
He jerked his head around and looked startled. “I mean it,” I said. “It’s you or she. It might be either. Get out of those duds.”
The Old Man can relax to the inevitable. He said, “Have her stripped. And I’m next.” He began fumbling at his zippers, looking grim.
I told Mary to take a couple of the women and peel Miss Haines. When I turned back the Old Man had his trousers at half mast—and Miss Haines chose to make a break for it.
The Old Man was between me and her and I couldn’t get in a clean shot—and every other agent in the place was disarmed! Again, I don’t think it was accident; the Old Man did not trust them not to shoot when the parasite was discovered. He wanted that slug, alive.
She was out the door and running down the passage by the time I could get organized. I could have winged her in the passageway but I was inhibited by two things—first, I could not shift gears emotionally that fast. I mean to say she was to me still old Lady Haines, the spinster secretary to the boss, the one who bawled me out for poor grammar in my reports. In the second place, if she was carrying a parasite I did not want to risk burning it, not after what we had been told. I am not the world’s best shot, anyhow.
She ducked into a room; I came up to it and again I hesitated—sheer habit; it was the ladies’ room.
But only a moment. I slammed the door open and looked around, gun ready.
Something hit me back of my right ear. It seemed to me that I took a long leisurely time in getting to the floor.
I can give no clear account of the next few moments. In the first place I was out cold, for a time at least. I remember a struggle and some shouts: “Look out!” “Damn her—she’s bitten me!” “Watch your hands! Watch your hands!” Then somebody said more quietly, “Bind her hands and feet, now—careful.” Somebody said, “How about him?” and someone else answered, “Later. He’s not really hurt.”
I was still practically out as they left, but I began to feel a flood of life stirring back into me. I sat up, feeling extreme urgency about something. I got up, staggering a little, and went to the door. I hesitated there, looked out cautiously; nobody was in sight. I stepped out and trotted down the corridor, away from the direction of the conference hall.
I slowed down momentarily at the outer door, then realized with a shock that I was naked and tore on down the hallway toward the men’s wing. There I grabbed the first clothes I could find and pulled them on. I found a pair of shoes much too small for me, but it did not seem to matter.
I ran back toward the exit, fumbled, and found the switch; the door opened.
I thought I had made a clean escape,
Mary had added considerably to the pile of hardware. I decided she just plain liked guns. Me, I’ve never found use for more than one.
Finally we were all mother naked and quite evidently free of parasites, except the Old Man himself and his secretary, Miss Haines. I think he was a bit in awe of Miss Haines; she was older than he and inclined to boss him. It dawned on me whom it had to be—if the Old Man were right. He could have been wrong; for all we knew the parasite might be on a ceiling girder, waiting to drop on someone’s neck.
The Old Man looked distressed and poked about in the pile of clothing with his cane. He knew that there was nothing in it—or perhaps be was really making sure. Finally he looked up at his secretary. “Miss Haines—if you please. You are next.”
I thought to myself. Brother, this time you are going to have to use force.
She did not move. She stood there, facing him down, a statue of offended virginity. I could see that he was about to take action, so I moved closer to him and said, out of the corner of my mouth, “Boss—how about yourself? Take ’em off.”
He jerked his head around and looked startled. “I mean it,” I said. “It’s you or she. It might be either. Get out of those duds.”
The Old Man can relax to the inevitable. He said, “Have her stripped. And I’m next.” He began fumbling at his zippers, looking grim.
I told Mary to take a couple of the women and peel Miss Haines. When I turned back the Old Man had his trousers at half mast—and Miss Haines chose to make a break for it.
The Old Man was between me and her and I couldn’t get in a clean shot—and every other agent in the place was disarmed! Again, I don’t think it was accident; the Old Man did not trust them not to shoot when the parasite was discovered. He wanted that slug, alive.
She was out the door and running down the passage by the time I could get organized. I could have winged her in the passageway but I was inhibited by two things—first, I could not shift gears emotionally that fast. I mean to say she was to me still old Lady Haines, the spinster secretary to the boss, the one who bawled me out for poor grammar in my reports. In the second place, if she was carrying a parasite I did not want to risk burning it, not after what we had been told. I am not the world’s best shot, anyhow.
She ducked into a room; I came up to it and again I hesitated—sheer habit; it was the ladies’ room.
But only a moment. I slammed the door open and looked around, gun ready.
Something hit me back of my right ear. It seemed to me that I took a long leisurely time in getting to the floor.
I can give no clear account of the next few moments. In the first place I was out cold, for a time at least. I remember a struggle and some shouts: “Look out!” “Damn her—she’s bitten me!” “Watch your hands! Watch your hands!” Then somebody said more quietly, “Bind her hands and feet, now—careful.” Somebody said, “How about him?” and someone else answered, “Later. He’s not really hurt.”
I was still practically out as they left, but I began to feel a flood of life stirring back into me. I sat up, feeling extreme urgency about something. I got up, staggering a little, and went to the door. I hesitated there, looked out cautiously; nobody was in sight. I stepped out and trotted down the corridor, away from the direction of the conference hall.
I slowed down momentarily at the outer door, then realized with a shock that I was naked and tore on down the hallway toward the men’s wing. There I grabbed the first clothes I could find and pulled them on. I found a pair of shoes much too small for me, but it did not seem to matter.
I ran back toward the exit, fumbled, and found the switch; the door opened.
I thought I had made a clean escape,
Similar Books
