Terraplane (8 page)

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Authors: Jack Womack

Tags: #Fiction, #Literary

BOOK: Terraplane
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In the outer world something blew; someone with it, undoubted,
at first listen. My stomach felt as if it were trying to claw free of my
flesh. I rounded for the front door; Skuratov stepped into view
again, his Shrogin leveled. As I fingered the doorknob, he spoke.

"Such a rush," he said; my spine went rigid. "Concern is hereafter unwarranted. Our flight will be smooth and uninterrupted."

"Slavic humor, Mal?" I asked, straight-faced. Drawing my hand
from the doorknob I pocketed it, involuntarily reaching for the gun
that we both knew wasn't there. "There was a noise outside. "

"Is on occasion necessary to be more Russian than Russian to
enjoy things Western," he said. "Mercedes, for example. Exceptional automobile. German executives are so often lost that
bombproof trunk on finest models is standard accessory. Bomb
explodes, leaving irreplaceable corporate valuables unharmed so
long as they are in trunk. Conversely, small bomb may explode
within trunk, leaving excellent machine unharmed. Harm results
only to hooligan opening trunk."

Jake would have known, I knew; had seen, did know

"Dream Team employs no wasteful folk. We prefer contacts
warm and breathing without question. Rare people such as Jake are
so adept and so unpredictable, however, that only one option is
available when longterm schedule is considered. Your people's loss
is so great in this circumstance that I should later submit to
Krasnaya letter nominating him to receive honorary Hero of Labor
award posthumously, perhaps making amends."

"Questions'll rise with my loss, Mal," I said. "Business hostag-
ing is forbidden-"

`As is capture of scientists," he laughed. "Is full accounting
necessary? We know of your organization's troubles. Those petty
backbitings and dark conspiracies. You should employ Kremlinologists to observe such Byzantine struggles. As with all complexities,
a simple lie suffices. Under tragic circumstance each of you suspected other of danger and took action accordingly. Possibly to
make story sit better I should obtain honorary award for you, too,
Luther. So. Condolences go out, your people briefly note and as
soon forget. No room for sentiment in American business, true? Of
course. "

"I'll be missed-"

"And mourned for proper period. Then your name will go on
small plaque in lobby. Meanwhile we obtain valuable scientist of
our own country and at last possess gifted American equally expert
in business and war. Two-for-one deal, true? Dream Team, like
everyone, is always on lookout for bargains."

His estimation of response was accurate. Twice before we'd lost
Russian contacts, one homegrown, one lured later. Both times it
was as if they'd suddenly slipped into nonexistence, leaving neither
clue nor trail. Both times the reaction in the main office was that a
hostage liabilitied, and therefore cut losses healed all the more
quickly.

"Little one, will you at last tell us what your great discovery is?
Alekhine was so careless in preparing reports."

"You'll hear nothing from me," she said, standing at my side,
aiming her look towards his feet; facing him eyesdown, as if
pretending reverence. At any second, I knew, Jake would show

"That is not strictly correct," he said. "Later we have much time
for stimulating conversation among friends. Discuss rumors and
puzzles we hear. Inescapable rumor that Alekhine machine is
time-travel device. Impossible, without question, yet this is what
we hear."

"Time travel completely impossible," she said. "Rules of causality cannot be broken."

"So we hear. But what marvelous uses such could serve for
mankind. Go back into time, kill Hitler at birth, let Spanish
Armada win, prevent Rome's fall."

"Mischief making at best," she said. "Means of ultimate
destruction at worst. But such is not and cannot be possible."

"Go forward in time to see how glorious the future shall be." His
smile disappeared beneath lips' blankets. "How miserable. There
remains question, then, of where Doctor Alekhine has gone."

"He is not far," she said, holding eyes downward. Skuratov's
Shrogin was set to fire; had we brokeaway, we'd have been peppered
before taking feet from the floor. Through my mind ran a dozen
possibilities, none workable without Jake. Where-?

"Far enough, little one. One moment all instruments show his
presence. Moment later, they do not. Day goes by, his light reappears. Week passes, he goes again. Does not come back. After three
weeks no evidence of continued existence anywhere reachable.
Peculiar thing if he is not far."

"You won't find him," she said.

"Dream Team finds living and dead," he said, stepping to his left as if to come behind us; we turned as he moved. "Is possible,
perhaps, that he is neither? Whether you tell now or later is
unimportant. In course of history all becomes clear. But to speak
without time-consuming and unpleasant prodding always
improves mood of situation."

"Not in long run," she said.

"We take moment to moment," he sighed, stopping short of the
intruder's drying husk in his rotation round the room, his back now
to the apartment door. Jake, I hoped, I wished; there was no Jake.

"But these are doubtful surroundings in which to have pleasant
conversation. We will pick up after our comfortable flight."

"We're still flying?" she asked.

He nodded. "You are ready to go?"

"Ready," she said as the door banged open. When Skuratov
began to turn she stamped her foot floorways; the board below him
lifted as if motor driven, striking him with terrific force between
the legs. He dropped like an ox in the butchery, his eyes vanishing
beneath their lids, the cassette box and his Shrogin tumbling as he
collapsed. I leapt for the gun; Jake leapt over me, onto Skuratov,
wrapping paws round his head as if to test for ripeness, readying to
do the twist. Gathering full, if aging, strength I shoved Jake off,
interposing myself between them, unthinking of consequence in
thwarting Jake's rage. Clutching me underarm he dug iron fingers
into my muscles, set to rip them free of the bones.

"Let me take him!" he shouted.

"No," I said, hoping to repress. "If you do his lights'll fade-"

"Desired!"

"Tracker's lights!" I shouted back. "If they see his lights go dead
they'll move and quick. Sustain viability and-"

"He tried to ex me, Luther," Jake said, returning my feet to
earth, flashing the mudstains on his jacket. Still, his hair was in
place, his features showed clear even of shaving scars. "My suit!"

"Reason's needed to kill-"

"No kill but reasoned kill," he said, lowtoned, heart's truth
spoken. Somehow I continued blocking his lunge. "With him
there's reason twenty times full."

"No!!" I screamed, mindlost myself; it startled all, and Jake loosened from his coil. "Under circumstance he's our exitcard. If
his signal steadies true his friends won't come out to play. Keep him
whole and we'll pass as wished until we breathe free air."

"Once we bordercross," Jake said, "let him drop and fly."

"He's prime target, Jake, Dream Team. We've never had a quick
one before. We'll take him all the way. Bind him tight. Once home
we give him to Alice. She has her own techniques. Feeling's
appreciated, Jake, but logic it out."

Skuratov lay wailing on the floor, rubbing his injuries as if for
joy. Oktobriana stood unbudged, hands yet fastened. She eyed Jake
updown, her lips parted, her face flushed with new-transfused
blood.

"Understood," he whispered, recovering. "If I'd snapped him I'd
be better now. Excuse."

"I began to worry you'd been blasted after all," I said. "How'd
you foresee?"

He unpocketed a tool recognizable from mine patrol; when
blasts were expected, one used the giz by tuning the proper frequency, detonating from beyond harm's path.

"His look and stance alerted me from moment one," said Jake,
"no matter your fancies of trust. This is my business, Luther,
remember. That tunnel of love last night awared me full. Then
when he stripped the car in town's safeness but not among these
ruins I knew all was up. So when I took the bags out I stood back,
ran my spark's channels till the proper tone blew it. The whoosh
sent me mudways-"

"Why the delay coming in?" I asked. "Were you knocked loose
for a mo-"

"I had to straighten," he said, adjusting his necktie's knot as if for
the hangman. "Essential."

"How's the car?"

"Trunklid sailed off like a great blue bird," he said. "Driveable
otherwise." Jake's anger kept underlid only until time boiled it over
again. Following the automotive condition report, he spun round
unexpectedly, booting Skuratov in the back full-force; not to crack
the spine, simply to raise the pain anew

"Nobody takes me out," Jake shouted at Skuratov, fetuscurled
floorways, issuing the soft cries of one aborted too late. "Hear?"

"He heard. Strip him clean before we buzz. Roll over, Mal."

"Why take off my clothes?" he asked, scraping words past teeth.

"Time and place for all," said Jake, speaking low, as if in a
library. "Let's see how prison love is liked-"

"Jake! Keep clothed, Mal. Property's desired. Let's have."

"Please," Oktobriana said, wriggling, jerking her arms.
"Remove these from me. I will not run."

"I've only the pair," Jake said. "Better him than her."

"Agreed. Cuff him," I said. "Roll this way, Mal."

When Jake uncuffed Oktobriana we both spotted the fire red
welts ringing her wrists. Hers shortly faded; Jake intended
Skuratov's to last, and he drew them on till he squeaked. As
promised, Oktobriana kept to where we left her as we rifled
Skuratov's goods, her look held fast on Jake's slippery form.
Skuratov carried five passports of four nations; a thousand rubles
and numerous credit cards, along with his personal ID, all of
suitable innocence.

"Two trackers," said Jake. "Take?"

"Take one. He'll not need." I pocketed his stress analyzer, hoping later to apply it to him.

"It's candyland, Luther," said Jake, diddling the ordnance, loading my coatpockets with most, selecting some for his own future
use. "Christmas in March." The Dream Team awashed with
postmodern flash. Jake, who followed such developments more
closely than I, demonstrated the safer toys found, told of the more
hazardous. Skuratov's keys shot poisoned needles; his cigarette
lighter carried X75, enough to bring down the neighborhood
around us if a crystal was hooked on. In his belt buckle were
biologics that Jake refused even to touch; by their color, I estimated
them-being more familiar with items of this sort-to contain
microampules of recombinantized anthrax. We pulled his cyanide
tabs, cracking them between our fingers like fleas.

"We've lost time, Jake. Drive as capabled and we'll get there in
eight. "

"Get where?" Jake asked. "His airstrip? What if no plane awaits?"

"When he felt assured, he let slip we'd still be airing it," I said.
"We'll call up the map on the car monitor."

"His airstrip's secluded?"

"His estate's road is Krasnaya owned. They know we're coming,
though they won't know of the new arrangements. We won't see
trouble. Come on. " I retrieved the cassette box from where it fell;
wondered if it could possibly prove so useful as our larger confiscations. In any event the trip would now prove cost-effective, so I lost
fears of having to deal with the accounts later on. Jake heaved
Skuratov across his shoulder headdown; as his pain lessened, his
complaints grew

"Carry me properly," Skuratov shouted, kicking so much as his
position allowed. "I hurt."

"Not enough," said Jake, swinging so as to slam Skuratov's head
against the doorframe, calming him once more; a scalp cut drizzled blood groundways. Jake, a puritan in heart, never allowed true
personal pleasure to enter the work that fed him, though passion for
perfection of the work performed was another matter; even when he
actioned irredeemably it was always to purpose and never with
glee. But vengeance, not one of his specialities, perhaps a feeling
least favored, too had time and need.

Locals rounded as we appeared, curious as to visit-motive; we
moved so unobtrusively as possible to the Mercedes.

"Where're her cases?"

"Backseated," said Jake. "As he'll keep. Keep him locked."

Whether the haze fuzzing the air remained from the blast, or
from whatever the residents burned for fuel, its smell struck metalharsh, as what lingers after chemical attack. We would have hauled
Skuratov trunkways during transport but under circumstance he
would have shown plain; Jake backseated him headfirst. Our outside viewers remained to watch our unexpected, unexplainable
performance. Gripping the cassette box tight I rested myself
between the cases and Skuratov's carcass, finding no comfort. Jake
wheeled himself; Oktobriana drew herself close to him so that he
might more easily prevent her escape.

"Drive at slow pace within neighborhood," she said.

"Known," he said. "Can't hurry without drawing wonder-"

She shook her head. "Many children at play here, Jake. Do you
understand the controls? I realize you seem unfamiliar with Russian language-"

"The fucker starts how?" At times Jake seemed as unfamiliar
with his own.

"Check the programmed destination," I said. Oktobriana
pressed two dash buttons; a map rose on the monitor's eye. I
recognized. "His place, undoubted. Aim there without change.
Drive, Jake. "

"Engine," said Oktobriana, "drive us to next destination."

"Done," said the car; we rolled upstreet. Oktobriana pressed
next to Jake as if to meld with his flesh; he edged her away.

"Worktime," he said.

"Closeness necessary for effective rapport."

"We're kidnapping you," Jake said, not looking her way, astonishment plain in his voice. "You enjoy?"

"Is not unpleasant now that initial surprise is done with. And
you did assist me in preventing my assault. I am very grateful."

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