Read Online Undersea Quest by Frederick & Williamson Pohl - Free Book Online
Authors: Frederick & Williamson Pohl
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ducked into a doorway.
The man in the white suit fell neatly into the trap. He came quietly around the corner; I didn’t hear him until he was almost before my doorway. I stepped out, hand in my pocket to make it look as though I had a gun, and said:
“Hold it!”
He showed no surprise. He stared at me from under the red brim for a moment. Then he said evenly, “Don’t shoot.”
His breathing was slow; he was not at all excited. For a moment the thought had crossed my mind: Suppose I was wrong?
Suppose he was a harmless pedestrian—suppose he cried out and the police came? The natural presumption would be that I was a hold-up man; no doubt I could clear myself, but I certainly would miss my ship—and one experience of missing a ship was enough for me!
But this man was no harmless pedestrian. It was almost as though he expected trouble. He didn’t move a muscle as he said:
“Take it easy, boy. Careful with the gun.”
“Careful!” I said angrily. “What are you following me for? Hurry up—talk!”
He said with mock-innocence, “What in the world are you talking about?”
I said hotly, “You know! Don’t waste my time—come across or I’ll shoot!”
Naturally, I had no intention of shooting—even if I had had a gun to shoot with! Whether he knew that I will never know; he turned to face me more squarely, moved his lips as though he were about to speak. His mouth opened a little…
Too late I saw the tiny, glittering metal thing he held between his teeth.
The tiny stream had already jetted from it as he crushed it between his teeth, forced the spurt of its contents. I felt the cold little drops strike my cheek. Instantly the chillness changed to a stabbing sensation of heat. Searing flame flashed over the side of my face; hot needles stabbed into my brain.
I should have known, I told myself dazedly in that split-second of realization—I should have known he would protect himself. The anesthetic-capsule was an old trick; I should have thought of it…
Sheets of blinding light were flickering before my sight. They faded.
Then there was only darkness. I felt myself falling as the anesthetic struck home.
It must have been an hour or more before I came to.
I got stiffly to my feet, muscles aching from the damp ground.
I was in the doorway still; no one was in sight. Leaning against the wall for support, I took quick inventory of my pockets.
I had been searched; that much was obvious. My wallet was on the ground, my passport hanging half out of it.
But nothing seemed to be missing. Not my passport; not my I.D. card; not my money or my watch. It had been no simple robbery, that was certain; I carried quite a lot of money, and not a penny of it was gone.
I tried to brush off my sodden clothing and staggered to the corner. I had no idea of the time; all I could think of was the sailing of the Isle of Spain at midnight.
Luck was with me. An empty cab cruised by overhead; I hailed it, and it settled to the curb beside me with a gentle whir of its rotor blades.
I thought briefly of the police; certainly I should report this…
But, by the dashboard clock in the helicab, I had just time to make the sailing.
I ordered the cab pilot to take me to the slip where the Isle of Spain was waiting. Fortunately my bags were already aboard; nothing, at any rate, had been lost by my unfortunate encounter with White Suit.
At least, that is what I thought at the time…
9
Aboard the Isle of Spain
But when I boarded the Isle of Spain I forgot all my troubles.
The giant sub-sea liner, more than a thousand feet long, as thick through as a seven-story building, bobbed lightly in the Pacific swell. I boarded her through a covered ramp, but even so, through portholes in the ramp, I saw the gleaming Edenite armor that flanked her whole length, the mighty sweep of her lines, torpedo-shaped, forward and aft.
I was realizing one of the great ambitions of my life! Below this heaving, gray expanse lay the Pacific
The man in the white suit fell neatly into the trap. He came quietly around the corner; I didn’t hear him until he was almost before my doorway. I stepped out, hand in my pocket to make it look as though I had a gun, and said:
“Hold it!”
He showed no surprise. He stared at me from under the red brim for a moment. Then he said evenly, “Don’t shoot.”
His breathing was slow; he was not at all excited. For a moment the thought had crossed my mind: Suppose I was wrong?
Suppose he was a harmless pedestrian—suppose he cried out and the police came? The natural presumption would be that I was a hold-up man; no doubt I could clear myself, but I certainly would miss my ship—and one experience of missing a ship was enough for me!
But this man was no harmless pedestrian. It was almost as though he expected trouble. He didn’t move a muscle as he said:
“Take it easy, boy. Careful with the gun.”
“Careful!” I said angrily. “What are you following me for? Hurry up—talk!”
He said with mock-innocence, “What in the world are you talking about?”
I said hotly, “You know! Don’t waste my time—come across or I’ll shoot!”
Naturally, I had no intention of shooting—even if I had had a gun to shoot with! Whether he knew that I will never know; he turned to face me more squarely, moved his lips as though he were about to speak. His mouth opened a little…
Too late I saw the tiny, glittering metal thing he held between his teeth.
The tiny stream had already jetted from it as he crushed it between his teeth, forced the spurt of its contents. I felt the cold little drops strike my cheek. Instantly the chillness changed to a stabbing sensation of heat. Searing flame flashed over the side of my face; hot needles stabbed into my brain.
I should have known, I told myself dazedly in that split-second of realization—I should have known he would protect himself. The anesthetic-capsule was an old trick; I should have thought of it…
Sheets of blinding light were flickering before my sight. They faded.
Then there was only darkness. I felt myself falling as the anesthetic struck home.
It must have been an hour or more before I came to.
I got stiffly to my feet, muscles aching from the damp ground.
I was in the doorway still; no one was in sight. Leaning against the wall for support, I took quick inventory of my pockets.
I had been searched; that much was obvious. My wallet was on the ground, my passport hanging half out of it.
But nothing seemed to be missing. Not my passport; not my I.D. card; not my money or my watch. It had been no simple robbery, that was certain; I carried quite a lot of money, and not a penny of it was gone.
I tried to brush off my sodden clothing and staggered to the corner. I had no idea of the time; all I could think of was the sailing of the Isle of Spain at midnight.
Luck was with me. An empty cab cruised by overhead; I hailed it, and it settled to the curb beside me with a gentle whir of its rotor blades.
I thought briefly of the police; certainly I should report this…
But, by the dashboard clock in the helicab, I had just time to make the sailing.
I ordered the cab pilot to take me to the slip where the Isle of Spain was waiting. Fortunately my bags were already aboard; nothing, at any rate, had been lost by my unfortunate encounter with White Suit.
At least, that is what I thought at the time…
9
Aboard the Isle of Spain
But when I boarded the Isle of Spain I forgot all my troubles.
The giant sub-sea liner, more than a thousand feet long, as thick through as a seven-story building, bobbed lightly in the Pacific swell. I boarded her through a covered ramp, but even so, through portholes in the ramp, I saw the gleaming Edenite armor that flanked her whole length, the mighty sweep of her lines, torpedo-shaped, forward and aft.
I was realizing one of the great ambitions of my life! Below this heaving, gray expanse lay the Pacific
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