Read Online Zelazny, Roger - Novel 07 by Bridge of Ashes - Free Book Online Page B

opened the compartment,
reached inside.
                   When he began to swing it in my direction, I
was ready. Mine was pointed.
                   "Not that way," I said. "Put it
down on the seat"
                   "What is this?"
                   "Do it!"
                   He hesitated a moment too long, and,
"I've already shot two men today," I said.
                   He put it down.
                   "Now reach over with your left hand and
pick it up by the barrel."
                   He did this.
                   "Pass it over. Drop it on the floor back
here.*
                   "What's going on?" he asked.
                   "I am trying to keep us from getting
killed. Do you mind?"
                   "I'm all for it," he said. "I
think it's a great idea. But I don't understand how disarming me will do
it."
                   "I want to avoid a shootout. I think we
are about to be arrested."
                   He chuckled. He opened his door.
                   "Don't get out!"
                   “I’m not." He gestured outward.
"Look, though. We're all alone. No one coming, either way. Listen, I know
you're very tired, you've had a lot to drink and your nerves have to be shot
after everything that's happened. I understand. With all due respect, I think
you're a bit delirious. Why don't you—"
                   "Don't move! Both hands on the
wheel!"
                   "Look, we are going to seem suspicious if
anyone comes by and sees us this way."
                   "Better than the alternative."
                   "Getting away?"
                   "Getting dead. We can't get away."
                   "Mind if I ask what makes you think
so?"
                   "You do not have to know," I said.
                   He was silent for a long while. Then, "Is
this some sort of setup?" he said. "A part of the plan I'm not in on?
Or is it just your own idea?"
                   "It is not just my own idea."
                   He sighed.
                   "Oh. Why didn't you tell me sooner? I
would have gone along with it, so long as you know what you're doing."
                   "Better you don't know."
                   "You can put the gun away. I—"
                   "I'm tired of talking. Just sit
there."
                   Richard Guise approached his son, who rested
on the courtyard bench.
                   "How do you do," he said.
                   "Hello."
                   "My name's Dick Guise."
                   Dennis rose, extended his left hand upward,
turning the palm out. He held his right across his chest. His dark eyes met his
father's.
                   "Rod Leishman," he said, as Dick
clasped it and released it.
                   "Mind if I sit down?"
                   "Sit," Dennis said, seating himself.
                   "How are you—feeling?"
                   "Shoulder's still giving me some
trouble." He reached across and rubbed it. "You a lawyer?"
                   "Friend of the court," Dick said,
seating himself. "They treating you all right?"
                   "Can't complain. Listen, I am not sure I
should be talking with you without Mr. Palmer—my regular attorney—around. Just
my ignorance. Nothing personal. Okay?"
                   "Sure. May I ask you something not
connected with the case?'
                   The green eyes, like Vickfs, fixed him once
again.
                   "Go ahead."
                   "What do the Children of the Earth really
hope to accomplish with all their violence?"
                   "Our only desire is to