The Cross of Gold Affair - Davies Fredric - Страница 33

Now that Tm here, two feet from it, I suppose there must be a best way to get back into this trap, he thought. Imagine making something for falling through. There’s much more to be got here by climbing up into it. His eyes roved over the door s underside and its meshing with the pier, while he mentally selected each of the gadgets, in turn, that he carried tucked in pockets and compartments of the wetsuit.

I could insert a throwing knife, figuring that it would cut the electric beam, so I could climb through while the door was open. But probably a thermite bomb is best. Fulminate of mercury is a good clean idea, but I have to stick it out right here while it goes off-too hot. He leaned out over the knives, looking at the floor’s slit to find a convenient lip for the bomb, and found none. A little instant-epoxy will stick it onto that steel, he decided.

The bomb in place, he found his flare pistol and got ready to signal Matt and the land team when he was ready to start. But he didn’t get a chance to trigger the pistol or the bomb, because the door sprang open without a touch from him, and a rolled-up jacket fell through.

He was immensely relieved to recognize the jacket, and the head that looked down through the floor at him.

“Good timing, Illya,” he said quietly. “When it closes, wait a minute for me to recover my bomb and get in position, then spring it again. Or can’t you spare any more dirty laundry?”

Napoleon grinned up at his partner, wondering how long it would be before Illya found his voice to toss back a retort. But when the Russian spoke, it was only to yell back over his shoulder, “Sing louder! Sing a lot louder!”

Before Napoleon could figure that out, the halves of the door slammed together again, and he shifted to be ready for the next opening. Thermite and flare gun went back into their proper compartments, and he swayed backwards from the pole, removing his feet from their spurs and standing on the little steel gadgets that were designed to dig into any kind of wood at a slight pressure, and hold their position under hundreds of pounds on each spur. Legs bent to push him upward, he waited for Illya to make the floor do its trick for him again.

“Sing louder,” Illya said over his shoulder. Mai and the boys reacted like trained militia, bouncing into When the Saints Go Marchin’ In just as the Russian reopened the trapdoor. He said “Allez!” as loud as he dared and Napoleon shouted “Oop!” back at him.

The trap snicked shut again, with Napoleon safely up in the Spaceship Room. The kids clustered around him joyously, pumping his hands until they realized he was wincing under the affection. “You’re all bandaged up/’ said Mai.

“Well, those cuts haven’t gotten in much healing time in the last six hours. The surface anesthesia keeps them from hurting too much, except when you pound on them in outbursts of affection. But how did you three get mixed up with such bad company as Illya?”

“Oh, when we left you, Arnold and his mob snuck up on us, while we were watching Illya enter the Space House. I’m not surprised at them catching these two poor fish”-she indicated Charlie and Andy, who struck Peter Pan poses of offended pride-“but me! They actually snuck up on me and jumped me, when I’ve been living for a year on this beach with a clean record. Tonight I’m just angry, trying to get out of here; but starting tomorrow I don’t think I’ll be able to live with myself.”

Illya said, “Then we really ought to get down to business. Napoleon, I hope you brought some extra weapons for me, since you must have known my tracer ended here.”

“I have a small knife, a communicator, a pistol, and lots of miscellany for you, but especially I have an extra pair of infrared goggles, because at exactly fifteen minutes before the hour I’m going to start an attack on Porpoise by turning off the power and seeing how our pudgy friend likes his hothouse pool at winter temperatures.”

“But what will we do with our friends? I’m sure they would be handy to have along for fighting, but …”

“We can take a hint,” said Mai. “You just turn off the power. We’ve spent hours and hours in every funhouse maze at Coney, and once this one stops dumping people in the ocean and exploding at them we should be out the front door in one minute.”

“When I turn off their power, they’ll be attacked from the land as well. When you reach that front door, I recommend you go out with your hands up, just like you were surrendering, and let the men there sort you out from Porpoise’s agents later. Once you get to Matt, stick with him and you’ll be all right.” Looking at his watch, he twisted to remove

a device something like a lightbulb from a packet on the back of his belt. With a boost from Illya, he removed the ceiling bulb and replaced it with U.N.C.L.E.Y device.

“When I tap that bulb,” he said, “it will do more than just bum out some single power source. It’s a timed charge, to bum out three power sources as they come into play, just in case Porpoise has more than one auxiliary dynamo to switch in on these lines. Can you kids be certain of getting through in the dark?”

The three looked at each other in mock pain, and Charlie stepped forward. “Sir, we have snuck into this maze individually and collectively at least once a week all summer. We used it to sack out, odd times last winter until they took to guarding it now and then. We are perhaps the world’s greatest living authorities on this funhouse, and it is an attack on our professional pride for you to doubt that we could get through it blindfold, backward, on one leg, and singing Gregorian chants.” He did an about face, two stiff goose-steps away, and then did a half-twist back flip that landed him nose-to-nose with Napoleon. “Do I get the job, chief?” he asked brightly.

“You could replace Russ Tamblyn, Marlon Brando and Lassie,” replied Napoleon. “But we’ll have to take your word for your abilities in the maze. In thirty seconds I tap that bulb, and you wait for the lights to go out, flash on, and go out twice more. The bulb fires three times and you can’t risk the maze before the third power source has been given the kibosh. If there are that many.”

“One thing more,” said Charlie. “I think I ought to jump up and hit that gizmo for you. You’ve been through a lot for a guy your age, and remember what lousy condition you were in when we found you on the beach. You couldn’t even take on two little kids like Andy and me; we wouldn’t want you tiring yourself, considering how much more you’re gonna go through.”

Before Napoleon could protest or Charlie could turn, Andy leaped without saying anything, slapped the bulb, and landed in total darkness.

Before Andy was back on his feet and standing erect, the lights blinked, and stayed off. “If he’s got a third power

supply for this kind of emergency,” said Charlie, “I bet he can’t find it in the dark. Let’s hit that maze and see if we can’t get out there before all of Fatty’s goons come out crying because they’re afraid with the lights out.”

As six healthy young feet slapped through the trapdoor room, Napoleon called after them, “Remember, the men out there are only expecting Thrushes or us-go out with your hands up, let them arrest you with no shooting, and we’ll get you sorted out later.”

He hoped they heard him. In seconds, the turns of the Space Maze cut off their laughing and calling to each other in the dark.

“Now that our scout troop has fled, I’d better give you your gun and we can get this show on the road,” Napoleon said. From one pocket came the remaining U.N.C.L.E. Special, and from another he drew a packet of ferral paste.

With two quick motions, he spread the super-thermite around the edges of the spacelock door, and he and Illya stepped back to press against the wall on either side. As the paste became exposed to oxygen it flickered quickly into clinging white fire which they allowed to bum until, instead of solid steel, the door was held in place only by a few remaining half-liquid threads of metal. Napoleon stepped back from the door and put one foot into it, opening the way into Porpoise’s inner sanctum to the accompaniment of a titanic bass gong as the spacelock fell.