R.W. III - The Dark Design

  Finally, she saw their lights and heard their voices. She told them what had happened, though they already knew. Then she told them what they were to do, which they expected.

  The result was that no one got anywhere as far as Piscator.

  "Very well," Jill said.

  The plastic explosive was applied against the exterior of the dome opposite a point halfway down the corridor. She would have liked to have set it at the juncture of the back of the dome and the tower wall. She was afraid that the explosive might blow a hole in the dome. If it did so, it might also kill Piscator.

  They retreated to the dirigible and the explosives expert pressed a switch on a transmitter. The blast was deafening, though the plastic had been applied to the side of the dome away from them. They ran to it, then stopped, coughing from the fumes. After the air was cleared, Jill looked at the dome.

  It was undamaged.

  "I thought so," she said to herself.

  She had called in to Piscator that he should not come out until after the explosion. There had been no answer. She had a hunch that he was not in the vicinity, but hunches were not certainties.

  Jill went back into the dome as far as she could. There was no force against the long-handled hook she thrust ahead of her. And she could throw a cloth weighted with metal to the end of the corridor. So, the field was no barrier to inanimate objects.

  If they had a periscope long enough to reach to the end of the corridor, they could see around it. However, a periscope was not part of the ship's supplies.

  She was not defeated by this. There was a very small machinist's shop on the Parseval. A wheeled device which would go to the end of the corridor could be built. A camera could be attached to its end, and the camera could be activated by a radio transmitter.

  The chief machinist's mate thought he could construct the "contraption" in an hour. She told him to do so, and then she ordered three men to stand guard in the dome.

  "If Piscator shows, radio me."

  Having returned to the ship, she phoned the machinist's shop.

  "Can you do your work while we're aloft? The air might be rough."

  "No sweat, sir. Well, only a little, anyway."

  The process of untying the ship and getting it into the air took fifteen minutes. Nikitin took the Parseval up above the tower and then sent her down toward its base. Radar indicated that the helicopter was now against the base of the tower. Though the sea was not violent, its waves were short and choppy, and it had probably smashed the machine against the tower. However, if they were lucky, the damage could be minimal.

  Aukuso radioed Thorn again without success.

  Because of the updraft by the tower, it was impossible to bring the dirigible close to the helicopter. Nikitin piloted it down close to the surface and held her against the wind. The belly hatch was opened, and three men in an inflatable boat with an outboard motor were lowered. It headed for the tower, guided by the radarman on the ship.

  Boynton, the officer in charge, gave a running report.

  "We're alongside the chopper now. It's bumping into the tower, but its pontoons have kept the vanes from being damaged. The pontoons don't seem damaged, either. We're having a hell of a time with this pitching sea. Report back in a minute."

  Two minutes later, his voice came back on.

  "Propp and I are in the chopper now. Thorn's here! He's pretty bloody, looks as if he got a bullet in the left chest and some ricocheting fragments got him in the face, too. He's alive, though."

  "Is there an opening or entrance of any sort in the tower?"

  "Just a minute. Have to light a flare. These lamps aren't strong enough . . . no, there's nothing there but smooth metal."

  "I wonder why he landed there?" she said to Cyrano.

  He shrugged and said, "I would guess that perhaps he had to land quickly before he passed out."

  "But where was he going?"

  "There are many mysteries here. We might be able to clear up some of them if we apply certain methods of persuasion to Thorn.''

  "Torture?"

  Cyrano's long, bony face was grave.

  "That would be inhumane, and, of course, the end never justifies the means. Or is that statement a false philosophy?"

  "I could never torture anybody, and I wouldn't permit anyone else to do it for me."

  "Perhaps Thorn will volunteer information when he realizes that he cannot be free until he does so. I do not really think so, however. That one looks very stubborn."

  Boynton's voice came in again. "With your permission. Ms. Gulbirra, I'll fly the chopper out. Everything looks okay. My men can bring Thorn back in the raft."

  "Permission granted," Jill said. "If it's operable, take it up to the top of the tower. We'll be along later."

  Within ten minutes, the radar operator reported that the helicopter was lifting. Boynton added that everything was running smoothly.

  Leaving Coppename in charge, Jill went down to the hangar bay. She arrived in time to see Thorn's cloth-wrapped body being lifted out of the raft. He was still unconscious. She followed the stretcher bearers to the sick bay, where Graves immediately took charge.

  "He's in shock, but I think I can pull him through. You can't question him now, of course."

  Jill posted two armed guards at the door and returned to the control room. By then the ship was lifting, headed for the tower. A half-hour later, the Parseval was again poised above the landing field. This time, it stayed 200 meters .from the dome. Its nose was pointed against the slight wind, and its propellers spun lazily.

  After a while, the little wagon made by the machinists was lowered onto the surface. After being pulled to the entrance, it was pushed as far as two men could get. Then long poles made by the machinists were used to push the wagon deeper. Extensions were added to the poles as needed. In a short time, the forward end of the wagon was against the far wall.

  After six photographs were taken, the wagon was pulled back by a long rope. Jill eagerly removed the large plates, which had been developed electronically at the moment of exposure.

  She looked at the first one.

  "He's not there."

  She handed it to Cyrano. He said, "What is this? A short hall and a doorway at its end. It looks like an elevator shaft beyond, yes? But . . . there is no cage and there are no cables."

  "I don't think They would have to depend upon such primitive devices as cables," she said. "But it's evident that Piscator got through the field and that he took the elevator."

  "But why does he not come back? He must know that we are concerned."

  He paused, and then he said, "He must also know that we cannot stay here forever."

  There was only one thing to do.

  Chapter 60

  * * *

  She gave the order to tie the ship up again. After this was done, she summoned the entire crew to the hangar bay. The photographs were passed around while she told them in detail everything that had happened.

  "We'll wait here a week if we have to. After that, we must leave. Piscator would not willingly stay down there so long. If he doesn't come back within twelve hours we can presume that he's being detained by . . . Them. Or perhaps he has had an accident and has been killed or hurt. There's no way of knowing. We can do nothing except wait for a reasonable period of time."

  No one would think of deserting Piscator at this time. But it was evident that they did not like the idea of staying seven days in this cold, dark, wet, ominously silent place. It was too much like camping outside the gates of hell.

  By then, helicopter No. 1 had quit burning. A work party went out to recover the bodies and to investigate the cause of the explosion. Mechanics began checking the other copter for pontoon damage and replacing the bullet-torn windshield and port door.

  A three-man guard was posted just inside the dome. Just before Jill went to the messroom, she got a call from Doctor Graves.

  "Thorn's still unconscious, but he's rallying. I've also looked at what's left of Fi
rebrass' brain. I can't do much since I don't have a microscope. But I'd swear that that little black sphere was attached to the neural system of the forebrain. I considered the possibility that it was extraneous and had been injected by the force of explosion into his brain. But the mechanics tell me there wasn't any such thing in the copter's equipment."'

  "You mean that you think that sphere had been surgically implanted in his brain?"

  Graves said, "There isn't enough frontal skull left to say for certain. But I'm going to cut the others open, too. In fact, I'm going to do a complete dissection on all the victims. That'll take time, especially since I have to keep an eye on Thorn."

  Trying to keep her voice from trembling, she said, "You realize the implications of that sphere?"

  "I've been doing some thinking about it. I don't know what the hell it means except that it's important. Now, Jill, I've been doing dissections for years, not because I had to but just to keep my hand in. And I've never found anything out of the ordinary in a thousand corpses.

  "But I'll tell you this. I think I know why Firebrass insisted on X-raying the skulls of his crew. He was looking for people with black spheres on, or in, their forebrains.

  "I'll tell you something else. I think he rushed Stern's corpse off to The River because he knew that Stern had a ball in his brain.

  "It's like Alice said, 'Mysteriouser and mysteriouser,' isn't it?"

  Her heart pounding hard and her hand shaking, Jill switched off the intercom.

  Firebrass was one of Them.

  A moment later she called Graves back.

  "Firebrass said he'd tell us why he wanted us X-rayed. But he never did, not to me, anyway. Did he tell you?"

  "No. I asked him to tell me, and he just put me off."

  "Then you don't know whether or not Thorn has a sphere in his head. If he should die, open him up, Doc."

  "I'll do that. Of course, I could expose the brain, anyway. But not now. He has to get well first."

  "Wouldn't that kill him? I know that the top of the skull is removed in operations, but can you expose Thorn's forebrain?"

  "It won't hurt me a bit."

  Twenty-four hours passed. Jill tried to keep the crew busy, but there was very little to do except unnecessary cleaning and polishing. She wished that she had brought along some of the movies made in Parolando. Except for talking and playing checkers, chess, and card games and throwing darts, there was little to occupy them. She did organize exercise periods to tire them out, but only so much of this could be done, and it was almost as boring as doing nothing.

  Meanwhile, the dark and the cold seemed to seep into their bones. And the thought that below them there might be those mysterious beings who had made this world for them was nerve stretching. What were They doing? Why had They not come out?

  Above all, what had happened to Piscator?

  Cyrano de Bergerac seemed to be especially affected. His long silences and obvious brooding could be caused by the death of Firebrass. It seemed to her, however, that something else was bothering him.

  Doctor Graves asked her to come to his office. On entering it, she found him sitting on the edge of his desk. Silently, he held out his palm. In it was a tiny black sphere.

  "They were all so badly burned that I couldn't even determine the sex by exterior observation. Obrenova was the smallest, though, so I dissected the smallest corpse first. I found this at once. I didn't say anything to you because I wanted to examine all of them first.

  "She was the only one to have this."

  "Two of them!"

  "Yeah. And it makes me wonder about Thorn."

  Jill sat down and lit a cigarette with trembling hands. Graves said, "Listen. The only liquor aboard is in my locker. It's for medical purposes, but I think you need some medicine. I know I do."

  While he got a bottle out, she told him about overhearing the quarrel between Thorn and Obrenova.

  He handed her a cup of the purplish fluid, saying, "So they weren't just nodding acquaintances?"

  "I don't think so. But I don't know what all this means."

  "Who does? Except maybe Thorn. Cheers!"

  Jill downed the warming, fruity liquor, and she said, "We found nothing suspicious in the quarters of any of them, Firebrass", Obrenova's, or Thorn's."

  She paused, then said, "There was one thing, significant not by its presence but by its absence. Like the dog in the Sherlock Holmes story who didn't bark. Thorn's grail wasn't in his chopper or in his cabin. I have, however, ordered a more thorough search of the chopper.

  "You told me a few hours ago that Thorn's conscious now. Can he be questioned?"

  "Not for very long. I'd advise waiting until he's stronger. Just now, if he doesn't want to talk, he can pretend to fall asleep."

  The intercom rang. Graves flipped on the switch.

  "Doctor? C.P.O. Cogswell here. I'd like to speak to the captain."

  Jill said, "Captain here."

  "Captain, we just found a bomb in the No. 2 chopper! It's plastic explosive. Looks like it weighs about two kilograms, and the fuse is connected to a radio receiver. It's on the underside of the arms locker in the rear."

  "Don't do anything until I get down there. I want to see it before it's removed."

  She stood up. "I don't think there's any doubt that Thorn set off a bomb in Firebrass' chopper. The investigating crew hasn't determined the cause of the explosion, but the chief said he thought it might have been a bomb."

  "Yes," Graves said. "The question is why Thorn would want to do that."

  Jill started to walk toward the door, then stopped. "My God! If Thorn planted bombs in both choppers, he could have hidden some on the ship, too!"

  "You never found a transmitter when you searched his quarters," the doctor said. " Maybe he hid one, or several, on the ship."

  Jill immediately alerted all personnel. After giving orders to Coppename to organize the search parties, she left for the hangar bay. The bomb was where the chief had said it was. She got down on her knees and looked at it with the aid of a flashlight. Then she left the machine.

  "Remove the fuse and receiver. Put the plastic in the explosives hold. Call the electronics officer and tell him I'd like to know what frequency the receiver is set on.

  "No, wait, I'll call him myself."

  She wanted to make sure that his experimenting would be done in a shielded room. The various bombs – if any – would have been planted at the same time, but Thorn would set the receiver of each to respond to its own wavelength. Still, there was no use taking a chance.

  After making sure that Deruyck, the electronics officer, understood why he should use a shielded room, she went to the control room. Coppename was at the intercom, listening to the reports of the search parties.

  Cyrano was in the pilot's chair staring at the panel as if the ship were in flight. He looked up at her as she entered.

  "Is it permitted to ask what Doctor Graves found?"

  So far, she had not concealed anything from the crew. She felt that they had a right to know as much as she did.

  Cyrano said nothing for some time after she had finished. His long fingers drummed on the panel while he looked upward as if something were written on the overhead. Finally, he stood up.

  "I think we should have a little talk. In private. Now, if possible."

  "With all this going on?"

  "We can step into the chart room."

  He followed her in and closed the door. She sat down and lit another cigarette. He began pacing back and forth, his hands locked behind him.

  "It is evident that Firebrass, Thorn, and Obrenova were agents of Them. I find it hard to believe that Firebrass could have been. He was so human! Yet it is possible that They are human, too.

  "Still, that being who called himself an Ethical said that neither he nor the agents were violent. They detested and abhorred violence. But Firebrass could be very violent; he certainly did not act like a pacifist. And then there's the incident of the newcomer Stern.
It seems from what you tell me that Firebrass may have attacked him, instead of Stern assaulting Firebrass."

  "I don't know what you're talking about," Jill said. "It would be better to begin at the beginning."

  ''Very well. I will tell you what I promised to keep secret. I do not easily break my word, in fact, this is the first time. But I may have given my word to someone who is my enemy, my secret enemy.

  "It was seventeen years ago. How long ago that has been, yet how recently! I was at that time living in an area of which most of the people were of my country and time. On the right bank, you understand. The left was populated by brown-skinned savages. Indians who had lived on the island of Cuba before Columbus found it, though I believe its inhabitants were not aware that their country had been lost. They were fairly peaceful, and after some initial struggles and difficulties, our area had settled down.

  "My own little state was, in fact, headed by the great Conti, under whom I had the honor to serve at the siege of Arras. Where I received a thrust through the throat, the second of the serious wounds that convinced me, along with all else I had seen of war's miseries and horrors, that Mars was the stupidest of the gods. Also, I was delighted to find there my good friend and mentor, the so justly famed Gassendi. He, as you no doubt know, opposed the infamous Descartes and revived Epicurus, whose physics and morals he so splendidly presented. Not to mention his influence on Molière, Chapelle, and Dehènault, all my good friends, by the way. He persuaded them to translate Lucretius, the divine Roman atomist . . ."

  "Stick to the point. Give me only the undecorated truth."

  "As for the truth, what is it, to paraphrase slightly another Roman . . ."

  "Cyrano!"

  Chapter 61

  * * *

  "Very well. To the breach. It was late at night. I was sleeping soundly next to my so lovely Livy, when I was suddenly awakened. The only illumination was the night light seeping in through the wooden bars of our open window. A huge figure was standing over me, a black mass with a tremendous round head like a burned-out moon. I sat up, but before I could bring up my spear, which always lay by my side, the figure spoke."