Rocket Science (27 page)

“You might also have a private talk with Ruthie Milliken,” I added. “I’m pretty sure she’s already looking for you. She might not make a statement against her husband on the record, but she can back up important parts of my story. Oh, and while you’re at it, grab Ollie Wannamaker and send some of your MPs hotfooting over to the Bellamy farm. There’s Reds and mobsters fighting it out, and they’ve lost all their vehicles. Over.”

If the Colonel’s boys could crack Morgan, or even just get Mrs. Milliken’s corroboration of my version of events, that would lead them to Hauptmann and the Doc. Those two might not be actual German agents, but they were sure more than doubled-out dupes like Floyd. Ollie could help Pinkhoffer sort out the mess at the Bellamy place. None of those guys would have gotten too far away from the scene, not after the mess we made of the place and of their cars.

“All right,” said Pinkhoffer after a pause. “You sound like you’re far off your rocker, but there’s a lot of crazy horse hockey around here right now. I’ll take all that under advisement. What’s the second thing?”

“I need to land on the refinery grounds without being attacked. This aircraft needs to take on oil, and that oil needs to be paid for. Over.”

“
What
?” Pinkhoffer obviously thought I had gone all the way nuts.

“Look, I know it’s goofy. Just promise me that the Army will pay for any oil or lubricants removed from the Mobil refinery. It should only be about a hundred gallons. Over.”

“Then what happens?”

“I’m not sure.” More to the point, I didn’t know. “But I promise you, no more violence, no more destruction. No more criminal acts. But you have to promise me the same. Over.”

I could almost hear him shake his head over the radio. “Son, you’ve got to surrender yourself and that aircraft.”

“I can’t commit to that, sir. All I can promise is a quiet end to this mess.”

Pinkhoffer sighed. “I’ll grant a safe conduct while you’re on the ground. I’ll even guarantee that the Army will pay for the fuel. But son, if you don’t pull out some kind of miracle, you’ll have to deal with me personally. Then there’s the rest of hell to pay. And there will be every kind of hell to pay, I promise. I have that from the
highest
possible authority, if you take my meaning.”

“Roger that,” I said. “My word to both you and the highest authority, I’ll do my best, sir. Over.”

“Before you land, give me a couple of minutes to give the orders on the ground at the refinery.”

I had to believe that Pinkhoffer was honest, neither bent to the Nazis or just plain trigger-happy. If not, we were probably dead. I tried hard to care, but I was just too darned tired. “I copy. Bandit out.”

Sighing, I closed my eyes. Despite what I’d told Pinkhoffer, there wasn’t much else I could do. Floyd and I would have to surrender once we landed. That wasn’t going to be any fun. I might never see the light of day again, except through a jailhouse window. Before I walked out with my hands up, though, I had to understand what Pegasus had meant about being released for independent operation.

Oil first, though. “Take us down Pegasus. The oil’s all yours.”

Chapter Sixteen

W
e landed with a gentle bump
next to one of the distillation towers. Almost immediately Pegasus was surrounded at a distance of fifty feet or so by a ring of jeeps, trucks and police cars. Spotlights and police flashers flickered and glared in the night like Fourth of July fireworks.

“The pursuit aircraft are landing at a nearby facility,” Pegasus said over the cabin speakers.

That figured. We were safely on the ground, at least for the moment. Despite their prodigious range, if they’d flown in from a distance, the Mustangs probably needed to refuel. Not to mention reload.

“What will you do now?” I asked.

“Watch.” On the main screen, I saw a probe swing out from Pegasus toward the tower. It looked like a giant dentist’s drill, long and narrow.

The probe nudged the refinery tower, then swung back and forth. It was articulated, with many joints, a nightmare vision of an insect’s leg. But as it swung, all I could think of to describe the erratic movements of the probe tip was a dog sniffing after a lost scent. The probe worked its way up and down the side of the tower before settling on a spot.

A flaring light sparked from probe, like a welding flame. I felt a slight shudder run through Pegasus’ cabin. “I have found what I require,” said Pegasus.

We waited for several minutes while Pegasus pumped hydrocarbons. The ring of police and soldiers stood unmoving, hidden behind the glare of the spotlights they kept trained on us.

“There are marksmen stationed in the refinery structures around us,” said Pegasus.

Pinkhoffer setting us up? Or just hedging his bets? I had no way of knowing which. Maybe the colonel hadn’t made up his mind either.

Then all heck broke loose outside.

There were lights flashing, shooting, the whole business, as Reverend Little’s flatbed Chevy broke through the cordon and raced toward us. Damn me if Mr. Bellamy wasn’t standing in the back with a rifle, a handful of long-coated Italians with him.

“Uh, Floyd, I think this one’s for you.”

“Colonel Pinkhoffer is trying to reach you urgently,” said Pegasus.

“I’ll bet.” I was fascinated, the same way I would be fascinated by a train wreck. The Chevy shuddered to halt right next to us, though the Army had stopped shooting.

There was a banging on the hull.

“What do we do?” Floyd asked.

“I have taken on what I require. Once conditions permit, I am now able to depart.” Pegasus sounded satisfied.

“He’s
your
father,” I said.

“What about Mama?”

I’d wondered the same thing.

Pegasus’ loudspeaker crackled to life, bearing Mr. Bellamy’s voice in.

“—in there, boy. Open up right now, damn it.”

“I got to go to him,” Floyd said miserably.

Mr. Bellamy’s voice rattled on, a mixture of threats and requests.

I sighed. “We open the hatch, we’re probably dead.”

“I helped you with your dad, Vernon.”

“Pegasus,” I said, “will you open the hatch?” And why was the Army sitting tight? Had Pinkhoffer not gotten to Morgan yet?

Then there was a jeep outside, an officer pale-haired in moonlight with his arm in a sling.

Ah ha
. The bad guys were winning. It was up to us.

“If you ask me to,” Pegasus said.

“What are we going to do, Floyd?”

He was miserable. “I don’t know.”

I thought about that for a moment. “Give me about a minute, then zap their vehicles and weapons like you did at the house. Can you control that?”

“Yes. Are you ready?”

“Floyd...?”

He nodded.

Now Morgan was talking too, his voice low and hard. “...have a few minutes before it all blows open, Bellamy.”

“Open the hatch.”

Floyd went first, then I followed him out into the council of our enemies.

“Well, boys,” said Mr. Bellamy. He looked terrible, beat to heck, singed and angry as all get-out. “You’ve come along nicely.”

Morgan shifted his weight, tight-lipped and cold-eyed.

“Where’s Mama?” Floyd asked.

And Mr. Neville
, I wondered. I was more scared of that Red lunatic than the rest of them put together, even if it was Morgan who had tried to do in Dad.

“Sitting with Reverend Little,” Mr. Bellamy said shortly. “Both madder than wet hens.”

The hardest of my fears drained away. All I had to worry about now was Dad making it through and me being killed.

“The aircraft is ours,” said Morgan.

I had my back against the open hatch. “No. Unless you’re going to kill me in front of two hundred witnesses.” I nodded at the ring of troops and cops surrounding us. “It’s all in the public record now.”

Morgan waved Mr. Bellamy into silence. I wondered what deal had been made, behind the scenes, to unite the mob, the Nazis and the Reds. “You have no idea what this is worth, kid.”

“No,
you
have no idea.” I glanced at the Italians. “The Kansas City boys do, and they know you’re about to take it from them. Same for the Bellamy gang. Your bunch is so far crossed over you couldn’t hold a pencil straight. Jig’s up, and this ship ain’t never going to be yours.” I leaned forward. “Where’s Pinkhoffer?”

“Busy,” Morgan said shortly.

That was when I popped him right above the collarbone with Floyd’s carving knife. “For my Dad, you son of a bitch!” I shouted.

He shrieked, Floyd took a haymaker swing at his dad, and the Italians drew guns on us.

“Drop them, all of you!” shouted a voice over a bullhorn from the surrounding crowd of police and soldiers.

Then the guns started smoldering, and the Chevy made weird pinging noises, and there was a lot of racket from the force around us. Random Garrett jumped out of the cab, swatting his hands against his pants, only to take a rabbit punch from one of the Italians.

With that, they were all over each other, even as Morgan grabbed my windpipe with his free hand.

“I’m going to do you like I did your old man,” he whispered.

Floyd cocked him upside the head with two fists bunched together. “Let’s go, Vernon!” he shouted, pushing me into the hatch.

We scrambled in even as some of the jeeps began to catch fire.

“Up,” I said to Pegasus, as I lay gasping on the deck.

Up we went.

“Now where?” I asked a moment later. I wasn’t proud of myself for what I’d done to Morgan, not at all, but Dad would be.

That was enough.

“When I am free to go,” said Pegasus., “orbit.” It wasn’t very happy with me, I was pretty sure.

“Orbit?” I asked.

“Yes. A transit path in space, around your planet. I desire to return to my operating base.”

“Which would be where?” I asked carefully.

“You call it Mars.”

“Mars,” Floyd said. “You mean, like where Martians live. The Red Planet. God, anything would be better than Kansas, now.”

“There’s no life on Mars, Floyd.”

“Oh, come on. What about John Carter of Mars? You used to read those books too.” Floyd looked dreamy, like his old kid self before the war. “Imagine, Mars. Barsoom. Helium.”

“John Carter?” asked Pegasus. “I do not know of him. And there is no meaningful amount of free helium on Mars.”

“Never mind,” I said. If anything, we were in more trouble than ever down below. On the other hand, we’d delivered some of the bad guys right into the hands of the law. On the other other hand, I’d stabbed a military officer in the performance of his duties, even if he was a rotten traitor. My
second
Captain Markowicz, in a sense.

But Pegasus had to get out of here. Pinkhoffer wouldn’t let it go. And that was the nub of the thing — letting go of Pegasus. If the computational rocket could act of its own free will, it already would have. I had control of it, at least until I released it to independent operation. Assuming I could do that. Then it would be gone like smoke in the night.

I couldn’t use my control of Pegasus to wreak vengeance, even if I wanted to, or had a target. But I could use that control, and my limited knowledge to bargain with Pinkhoffer. All the different technologies embedded in Pegasus were so valuable, so far off the scale of value, that I’d bet my shirt the government would pay any price for the opportunity to study them. Piece by piece, a company like Boeing could engineer Pegasus in reverse.

A deal like that would protect me, protect Dad, make all the criminal charges and property claims against me just melt away. I could even get some leniency for Floyd, or at the very least keep him out of the electric chair.

But at what price? Pegasus had helped me, saved my life really, and Dad’s. It was a machine, but a machine that thought, and felt, and had a better-developed sense of ethics than any of my friends and neighbors. The computational rocket had earned my trust and respect.

Selling Pegasus to Uncle Sam would buy me a life of freedom and security. But I just couldn’t do that.

“I think this is where we get off,” I said. “Me and Floyd, we’ve got a lot of music to face. And you’ve got a long way to go. How do I release you to independent operation? I assume that’s the condition you mentioned.”

“You simply tell me so,” said Pegasus. “That releases programming blocks in my personality.”

“You are released.” I took the handset out of the pocket of my ragged bathrobe, and set it in one of the hollows on the arm of the pilot’s seat. The handset clicked into place. “Go to your fate with my blessing. Friend.” As Floyd and I went to our fates unblessed, I thought.

Pegasus’ speakers warbled, almost an electronic sigh. “My thanks. But Vernon Dunham, there are problems.”

“What kind of problems?”

“I have signaled my operating base repeatedly since you reactivated me, and received no response.”

“No one’s answering the phone,” Floyd said.

“Exactly. I have called home. No one is there.”

“Mars is home?” I asked. So much for my no-life-on-Mars-Floyd speech. I hadn’t really thought the whole thing through, but Mars was the most logical place for Pegasus to have come from, except maybe Venus.

“No. I was designed and built under the light of a different sun. My builders created a forward exploration and monitoring station on Mars. I am part of that station.”

I was intensely curious about this. The idea of the light of a different sun stirred my soul. “How long has it been since you have heard from them?”

“Four hundred and thirty seven years, two hundred and twelve days, seven hours, forty one minutes and seventeen seconds mean sidereal time. Since immediately prior to my landing on the Arctic ice cap.”

“You were buried off of Svalbard for four centuries?” This was what I had suspected, with varying degrees of credulity, ever since seeing those German photos in the since stolen report.

“Yes. I was unable to resume attempting radio contact until you activated my remote unit yesterday. My recent German masters had kept me in a shielded facility until they understood my operations well enough to forbid me to make the attempt. They also discovered and reinstated the autonomous programming blocks you just rescinded.”