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capsizing. But the locator was intent upon only one thing: contact with the Necroscope.
And Jake came... but not alone.
And not into the chopper.
On his way through the Möbius Continuum, while Szwart assumed a man-shape
but continued to hold him as tightly as ever, the Necroscope had chosen an indirect
route moving first in one direction, then another in order to think things through
before arriving at his destination. And he'd kept his thoughts shielded in case Szwart
was less of a dullard than he seemed.
As for Jake's plan: it had been somewhat complicated.
He had understood from Chung's contact the vibrations of the hairbrush shard
that the locator was in trouble; if not Chung himself, then certainly the helicopter in
which he was a passenger. If they were ditching, then it was possible that in the
confusion Jake could free himself from Szwart, grab hold of Chung, and make an exit.
By now the locator and his colleagues would be wearing lifebelts at least, and
inflatables were standard on such aircraft. Maybe they were already down in the water,
while the helicopter filled up and started to sink.
In that case Jake would immediately transfer Szwart to the chopper and desert
him there... if he could get away from him. Then, with the coordinates fresh in mind, he
would go back for Chung and Co and rescue them from the sea. Complicated, yes the
plan had a great many ifs, buts, and maybes but for the moment it was the best he
could do.
And one thing for sure: if it worked there would be no more trouble from Szwart.
For there's no darker or deadlier place to be than under the crushing weight of a mile of
water...
That had been the Necroscope's plan, but as he conjured his Möbius door he
saw that once again it was slipping and sliding, bucking and heaving and slowly but
surely descending and so guessed that the helicopter must be settling toward the sea.
He made a quick decision, dissolved the door and moved away from it, and at
coordinates of his own conjured another. Except this time, without pause, he proceeded
through it into the dark Atlantic night and the blustery aftermath of the storm.
His calculations were a little off. Emerging in mid-air, he tasted salt and felt the
slap of spume from driven wave crests, saw the helicopter's rotors glinting overhead
some little distance away... and then fell: Jake and Szwart, plunging into a trough
between waves, sinking under the water and slowly surfacing.
Then: 'What? Eh?' Szwart gasped and spluttered, tightening his grip as their
heads broke the surface. 'Are you mad, Necroscope? Do you want to die?'
'A mistake,' Jake lied, as choppy water slapped him in the face. 'But I can get us
out of this.'
'Then do it now, at once!' said Szwart. 'For that was your last mistake, Jake
Cutter. I won't allow another.'
At which moment Jake spied the Russian ship.
As the heaving ocean lifted them up, Necroscope and monster together, Jake
saw the stricken vessel; saw members of her crew in goggles and safety harnesses,
risking their lives where they hung from a framework of buckled steel booms at her
stern. They were working at frantic speed with acetylene torches, trying to cut through
the trailing towlines. And behind the ship, lolling in the swell with the tip of a rusty
conning tower breaking the surface, there was the doomed old sub herself where
Jake had hoped she would be.
Then, breaking in on his concentration, Szwart told him, 'I can't swim. Nor can
you, not with me clinging to you. So get me out of this now, Necroscope, or we both go
down together.'
'As you will,' said Jake.
He judged the distance, saw the last hawser sliced through and go splashing
down into the sea, attempted to recall everything that he'd seen of Chung's target on the
big screen in E-Branch HQ's Ops Room. That great nuclear submarine but more
especially its reactor compartments: those lead-lined rooms that no sane engineer
would ever enter except in the most desperate of circumstances.
And then as the conning tower slipped under for the last time and a wave lifted
them high the Necroscope conjured his door, prayed that he'd got it right, and again
entered the Möbius Continuum.
He needn't have worried. Chung's hardwood shard was vibrating itself into a
hundred even smaller fragments in his pocket, and as before it was his compass and
his rangefinder.
'EH?' said Szwart. 'WHAT...?' Like a thunderous grunting in the Continuum's
nothingness.
Darkness, Jake answered, as he fashioned his most dangerous door and guided
Szwart through it. That is what you asked for isn't it?
And dark it was pitch dark, oily, metallic and burning with a heat that couldn't
be felt by men, except in the passing of time. But Szwart felt it, and he couldn't
understand it.
Astonished, he relaxed his grip, and the Necroscope at once leaned away from
him and through a Möbius door. The one pseudopod that managed to come snaking
after him was lopped off as he slammed the door behind him.
And Jake was free in the Möbius continuum.
While in the corporeal world, below the waves:
There was heat in the reactor compartment, the same energy that fuels the sun
but without the sun's light. Little wonder Szwart couldn't understand it, but he could feel
it. And as the groaning sub nosed ever deeper, he felt it eating into him.
Mercifully, perhaps too mercifully, he wouldn't feel it for long. Already his mutant [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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capsizing. But the locator was intent upon only one thing: contact with the Necroscope.
And Jake came... but not alone.
And not into the chopper.
On his way through the Möbius Continuum, while Szwart assumed a man-shape
but continued to hold him as tightly as ever, the Necroscope had chosen an indirect
route moving first in one direction, then another in order to think things through
before arriving at his destination. And he'd kept his thoughts shielded in case Szwart
was less of a dullard than he seemed.
As for Jake's plan: it had been somewhat complicated.
He had understood from Chung's contact the vibrations of the hairbrush shard
that the locator was in trouble; if not Chung himself, then certainly the helicopter in
which he was a passenger. If they were ditching, then it was possible that in the
confusion Jake could free himself from Szwart, grab hold of Chung, and make an exit.
By now the locator and his colleagues would be wearing lifebelts at least, and
inflatables were standard on such aircraft. Maybe they were already down in the water,
while the helicopter filled up and started to sink.
In that case Jake would immediately transfer Szwart to the chopper and desert
him there... if he could get away from him. Then, with the coordinates fresh in mind, he
would go back for Chung and Co and rescue them from the sea. Complicated, yes the
plan had a great many ifs, buts, and maybes but for the moment it was the best he
could do.
And one thing for sure: if it worked there would be no more trouble from Szwart.
For there's no darker or deadlier place to be than under the crushing weight of a mile of
water...
That had been the Necroscope's plan, but as he conjured his Möbius door he
saw that once again it was slipping and sliding, bucking and heaving and slowly but
surely descending and so guessed that the helicopter must be settling toward the sea.
He made a quick decision, dissolved the door and moved away from it, and at
coordinates of his own conjured another. Except this time, without pause, he proceeded
through it into the dark Atlantic night and the blustery aftermath of the storm.
His calculations were a little off. Emerging in mid-air, he tasted salt and felt the
slap of spume from driven wave crests, saw the helicopter's rotors glinting overhead
some little distance away... and then fell: Jake and Szwart, plunging into a trough
between waves, sinking under the water and slowly surfacing.
Then: 'What? Eh?' Szwart gasped and spluttered, tightening his grip as their
heads broke the surface. 'Are you mad, Necroscope? Do you want to die?'
'A mistake,' Jake lied, as choppy water slapped him in the face. 'But I can get us
out of this.'
'Then do it now, at once!' said Szwart. 'For that was your last mistake, Jake
Cutter. I won't allow another.'
At which moment Jake spied the Russian ship.
As the heaving ocean lifted them up, Necroscope and monster together, Jake
saw the stricken vessel; saw members of her crew in goggles and safety harnesses,
risking their lives where they hung from a framework of buckled steel booms at her
stern. They were working at frantic speed with acetylene torches, trying to cut through
the trailing towlines. And behind the ship, lolling in the swell with the tip of a rusty
conning tower breaking the surface, there was the doomed old sub herself where
Jake had hoped she would be.
Then, breaking in on his concentration, Szwart told him, 'I can't swim. Nor can
you, not with me clinging to you. So get me out of this now, Necroscope, or we both go
down together.'
'As you will,' said Jake.
He judged the distance, saw the last hawser sliced through and go splashing
down into the sea, attempted to recall everything that he'd seen of Chung's target on the
big screen in E-Branch HQ's Ops Room. That great nuclear submarine but more
especially its reactor compartments: those lead-lined rooms that no sane engineer
would ever enter except in the most desperate of circumstances.
And then as the conning tower slipped under for the last time and a wave lifted
them high the Necroscope conjured his door, prayed that he'd got it right, and again
entered the Möbius Continuum.
He needn't have worried. Chung's hardwood shard was vibrating itself into a
hundred even smaller fragments in his pocket, and as before it was his compass and
his rangefinder.
'EH?' said Szwart. 'WHAT...?' Like a thunderous grunting in the Continuum's
nothingness.
Darkness, Jake answered, as he fashioned his most dangerous door and guided
Szwart through it. That is what you asked for isn't it?
And dark it was pitch dark, oily, metallic and burning with a heat that couldn't
be felt by men, except in the passing of time. But Szwart felt it, and he couldn't
understand it.
Astonished, he relaxed his grip, and the Necroscope at once leaned away from
him and through a Möbius door. The one pseudopod that managed to come snaking
after him was lopped off as he slammed the door behind him.
And Jake was free in the Möbius continuum.
While in the corporeal world, below the waves:
There was heat in the reactor compartment, the same energy that fuels the sun
but without the sun's light. Little wonder Szwart couldn't understand it, but he could feel
it. And as the groaning sub nosed ever deeper, he felt it eating into him.
Mercifully, perhaps too mercifully, he wouldn't feel it for long. Already his mutant [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]