"Dickson, Gordon - Stranger Txt" - читать интересную книгу автора (Dickson Gordon R)

"And something else—something else you can do for me right away, Sam, and it won't be hard. Not for you. You know that detective agency I had hunting my wife? They called, just Monday, and said they'd almost found her, that they'd be calling this week to teH me where she is. Sam..."

He fumbled in his shirt pocket and came up with a pen and a piece of paper. He scribbled on the paper and passed it between the vertical pipes into Church's hands.

"It's easy for you to phone out. Call them, Sam. Don't tell them what's happened to me. but tell them they can reach me at—they can leave a message at..."

He stopped and searched his mind desperately.

"I know!" he burst out. "You remember that slave market in Minneapolis, where you first met me? The Availables, Fifth and First Avenue North? Tell them they can leave a message for me there. I'll be back Monday. 1 can pay off that dayclerk, and he'll go along with it."

"All right." Sam Church looked at him strangely.

"And another thing you can do for me..."

He was interrupted by the roar of blowers as the bus turned a corner into the compound.

"All right, Swenson!" shouted one of the guards. "Get over here!"

"Sam, listen, if you have a chance..."

"There's no more time, Merlin." Church was thrusting a white envelope at him between the pipes. "It's not much, but it's all I could raise in a hurry."

Merlin took if automatically. The guards were coming for him. There was not even time to take Church's hand.

"I'm sorry, Merlin," said Church. "I'm really very sorry. I couldn't help it. I have my own wife to think of."

The guards grabbed Merlin, whirled him around and marched him toward the bus. Dazedly, he found himself aboard.

"Company billing, Jake," said one of the guards. "This one to Denver Central. If he gives you any trouble, let us know."

They stood back. There were no other passengers boarding. The doors of the bus closed with a pneumatic hiss. The driver lifted the vehicle on the downward thrust of its underjets until it floated free. He turned it in its own length and headed toward the highway.

Merlin, catching at seatbacks to keep his balance in the turning bus, stumbled to the mid-section of the vehicle and sat down- Only then he realized he was still clutching the envelope that Church had given him. Numbly, he opened it. Inside were twenty hundred-dollar bills.

He laughed bitterly. This, together with the twentyfive hundred or so he had in his wallet, might be just enough to buy a bus ticket back to Minneapolis. He would have to take a bus to get there by next Monday. If you were caught hitchhiking, the police either beat you up so badly that you ran the chance of being crippled, or shot you on some pretext or other to save themselves the trouble of beating you up.

He tucked the envelope into an inside pocket. His old work clothes and everything else he owned were getting farther behind him by the minute. Once back in Minneapolis he would have to work in what he was wearing now—for as long as it stood up. Ironically, he had been saving his good new shoes lately by wearing his old ones with the paper-thin soles; he had found out that the instructors did not care. Shoes would be a critical matter once he went back to daywork. The money that would buy his bus ticket could be used to purchase a pair of heavy work boots instead. With those, at slave markets in Denver, he could last indefinitely. Given enough time, anything could happen. He could be reinstated with Trans- Space, if Church could get to the right person—

His thoughts broke off suddenly as he remembered Church's parting words. What had he meant by saying he couldn't help it—that he had his own wife to think of?

Understanding exploded in Merlin.

"The bastard!" he screamed.

He woke to the fact that he had half-risen out of his seat. Remembering where he was, he sank back down again. The few other passengers on the bus and the driver, in his rearview mirror, were all staring at him.

Merlin sat stunned, the whole pattern taking shape before him like a puzzle picture that suddenly becomes comprehensible. He remembered how Church had lied about having space experience in order to qualify for the cadre. He remembered Church wanting to walk downtown with him to his interview, Church meeting him there after all—which he could only have done if he had followed Merlin—and wanting to hang around and see how this perfect stranger made out in an interview. Merlin remembered the look of terrible longing on Church's face when Merlin told of his own good fortune. How many times, he wondered now. sickened, must Church have used that look on other people?

He should have been on his guard when Church warned him to deny having been at any of the obviously subvert talk sessions in Church's cubicle. The meaning of Church's last words were clear- He had insured his own job security by throwing the corporate people a substitute victim and telling them that victim would deny everything when questioned. Then he made sure by advising Merlin to do just that.