he fell. Barker yelled in triumph and lunged. Austin had landed with the sword under him and couldn't bring it to a defensive position. The knife slashed down. Austin blocked Barker's wrist with the edge of his hand. He tried to grip it, but his palm was sweaty. He let go of the sword and brought his other hand around and used it to push the knife point away from his throat.

Frustrated by Austin's superior strength, Barker jerked his hand back and brought it up to strike again. Austin rolled out of the way, leaving the sword behind him. They both scrambled to their feet at the same time.

When Austin went to retrieve the sword, the knife slashed the air a few inches from his chest. Barker kicked the sword out of reach, then advanced on Austin. He stepped back and felt the edge of the desk behind him. He could go no farther. Barker was so close, Austin could see his face reflected in the sunglasses. Barker smiled and raised his knife to strike.

Zavala had bounded through the doorway and stopped short. He expected to find himself in another corridor. Instead, he was in a small chamber, not much bigger than a telephone booth, with ladder rungs running up one wall. A single wall lamp lit the cramped space. Under the lamp was a flashlight rack. One of the lights was missing. He grabbed one of the remaining flashlights and pointed it up. He thought he saw a flicker of movement in its beam, then nothing but darkness. He slung the rifle over his shoulder, tucked the light in his belt and began to climb. The shaft opened onto a passageway con- structed in a triangle of interlocking girders. Probably part of a keel that kept the airship rigid and allowed access to its innards.

The keel intersected another passageway. Zavala held his breath and heard a slight ting that could have been made by a boot or shoe slapping against metal. He stepped into the new passageway and found that it curved up against the inside of the zeppelin's skin. The white fabric of the inflated gas bags was pressed tightly against the framework on the other side. He guessed that he was inside a ring that worked with the keels to give the airship further support.

His theory proved out, as the passageway began to curve back on itself, so that he was climbing directly over the huge bags. Zavala was in good shape, but he was panting heavily when, at the top of the zep- pelin, he came to another triangular passageway running lengthwise from the front to the back of the airship. The choice was easier this time. He pointed his light along the transverse support. He could see movement and hear heavy footsteps echoing in the distance.

Zavala dashed along the keel, knowing he had to stop Scarface be- fore he made it to the control car and raised the alarm. He came to another juncture where the transverse corridor intersected a sup- porting ring. There was no sign or sound of Scarface to reveal where he had gone. Zavala's mind assembled a picture of the inside of the great airship.

If he were looking at a clock, the corridor he was in would be in the noon position. The transverse passageway he had seen earlier was at eight o'clock. To keep the rings rigid, there must be a third horizontal passageway at four o'clock. Maybe he could cut Scarface off at the pass.

He descended the ring, half climbing, half falling. He almost shouted in exultation when he came upon the third transverse pas- sageway. He ran down the corridor, pausing at each ring to listen. He was guessing that Scarface would make his way as far forward as he could before descending to the control car using another ring.

At the third juncture of a keel and a ring, Zavala heard a ting-ting as someone climbed down the metal ladder. He waited patiently until he could hear heavy breathing. He flicked on the light. The beam caught Scarface clinging to the ladder like a large, ugly spider. Scarface saw that he'd been intercepted and began to climb up the ladder.

'Hold it right there!' Zavala ordered. He brought the shotgun to his shoulder.

Umealiq halted and looked down at Zavala with an ugly leer on his face. 'Fool!' he shouted. 'Go ahead and fire. You'll be signing your death warrant. If you miss me and hit a hydrogen bag, the air- ship will go up in flames and you and your partner will die.'

Zavala's lips twitched at the ends. As an engineer, he was well- acquainted with the properties of various elements. He knew that hy- drogen was volatile, but unless he was using a tracer bullet, combustion was unlikely. 'That's where you're wrong,' he said. 'I'd just end up punching a hole in the gas bag.'

The evil smile vanished. Umealiq bent off the ladder and pointed his gun at Zavala. The shotgun boomed once. The heavy shell hit Umealiq squarely in his broad chest and knocked him off the ladder. Zavala stepped back to avoid the body that crashed to his feet. As his life ebbed, Umealiq's face was twisted in disbelief.

'That's something else you were wrong about,' Zavala said. 'I don't miss.'

While Zavala was chasing Scarface, Austin had been fighting for his life. Again, he had thrown his left hand up so that the edge of it caught Barker's wrist and stopped the descending knife inches from his neck. With his right hand, he reached up to grab Barker by the throat, but the other man jerked back. Austin's groping fingers yanked off the sunglasses. He found himself staring into Barker's pale-gray snake-eyes. Austin froze for a second and lost his grip on the wrist. Barker jerked his arm back, prepared to make another thrust.

Austin reached back onto the desk, his fingers in a desperate search for a paperweight or something else he could use to brain Barker with. He felt a searing sensation. His hand had touched one of the halogen lamps that illuminated the map. He grabbed the lamp, brought it around and shoved it in Barker's face, hoping to burn him. Barker blocked the lamp, but he couldn't stop the light. It was as if Austin had thrown acid into Barker's light- sensitive eyes. He screamed and threw his hand in front of his eyes to shield them. He stumbled back, scream- ing in the Kiolyan language. Austin watched dumbfounded at the damage he had wrought with a single lightbulb.

Barker groped his way out of the room. Austin picked up the sword and went after him. In his haste to catch Barker before he could get back to the control car, Austin was less careful than he should have been, and Barker was waiting for him in the fish hold. He ambushed Austin from just inside the door, and his slashing knife caught the rib cage on the side opposite from his existing wound. Austin dropped the sword and tumbled off the gangway onto the plastic lids that covered the fish tanks. He felt a warm dampness soaking his shirt.

He heard a nasty laugh from Barker, who stood on the gangway visible in the blue glow from the tanks. He was looking up and down, and Austin realized with relief that he was still blind. Austin tried to pull himself along the top of the tanks. The creatures under the plastic stirred in the water as they saw him moving and smelled the blood. Barker jerked his head in Austin's direction.

'That's right, Mr. Austin. I still can't see. But my acute sense of hearing gives me a different kind of sight. In the land of the blind, the man with the best hearing is king.'

Barker was trying to goad Austin into a fatal response. Austin was losing blood and didn't know how long he could stay conscious. Zavala could be dead. He was on his own. There was only one chance. He slid back the lid of the tank next to him, groaning to cover the noise.

Barker's head stopped like a radar antenna with a fix on its target. He smiled, his pale eyes staring directly at Austin.

Barker smiled. 'Are you hurt, Mr. Austin?'

He took a few steps toward Austin on the catwalk. Austin groaned again and slid back the top of the tank another few inches. Barker stepped off the catwalk and walked slowly along the tops of the fish tanks. Austin glanced at the opening. The gap was still less than a foot. He groaned again and brought it back another few inches. Barker stopped and listened as if he suspected something. 'Screw you, Barker,' Austin said. 'I'm opening the sluice gates.' Barker's face fell, and he let out a feral snarl and charged forward. He never heard Austin pull the lid back another foot-and then he had stepped into the tank. He sank out of sight, then his head bobbed back up to the surface. His face turned into a mask of fear as he re- alized where he was, and he clung to the edge of the tank and tried to pull himself out. The mutant fish in the tank had been startled by the intrusion, but now it was nosing around Barker's legs. It was

being excited as well by blood from Austin's wound that had seeped down into the water.

Austin rose to his feet and coolly pulled up the adjoining sluice gates. Barker was halfway out of the tank when the fish from the other tanks found him. His face turned even whiter, and then he slipped back into the tank. There was a flurry and commotion… and his body disappeared in bloody foam.

Austin turned off the alarm switch and staggered back to Barker's quarters, where he had found a medicine cabinet with a first-aid kit. Using tape and bandages, he stanched the bleeding. Then he re- trieved the sword and was about to follow Zavala to see if he could help him, when his partner stepped through the door.

'Where's Barker?' Zavala said.

'We had a disagreement and he went to pieces.' Austin s lips tight- ened in a mirthless smile. 'I'll tell you later. What about Scarface?'

Вы читаете White Death
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату