The Dark Design

"I'll tell you if you'll tell me what this is all about."

Thorn's deep chest rose, and he let out air slowly.

"I won't say another word about this until we get to the Mark Twain. I'll talk to Sam Clemens. Until then, not a word. You can open my skull, if you will. But that would be cruel, and it might kill me, and it would be totally u

Jill motioned to Cyrano to come with her into the next room. When they were out of Thorn's sight, she said, "Is there an X-ray machine aboard the Mark Twain?"

Cyrano shrugged and said, "I do not remember. But we can determine that as soon as we ge 'into radio contact with the boat.''

They returned to the foot of Thorn's bed. He stared at them for a minute. A struggle was obviously taking place in him. Finally, as if he hated himself for having to ask, he said, "Did that man come back?"

"What does that mean to you?"

Thorn looked as if he'd like to say something. Instead, he smiled.

"Very well," Jill said. "We are going to the boat. I'll talk to you when we get there, unless you change your mind before then."

The checkout tests of the equipment consumed an hour. The ropes were cast off and drawn into the dirigible. The guards and the rope handlers came aboard. With Cyrano in the pilot's seat, the Parseval rose, its propellers swiveled upward to give it additional lift. Water ballast was discharged to compensate for the loss of the valved-off hydrogen. The updraft around the tower lifted the ship higher than was desired, and so Cyrano sent it back down, headed toward the great hold through which they entered.

Jill stood at the windscreen and stared into the fog. "So long, Piscator," she murmured. "We'll be back."

The wind hurled the vessel through the hole, spitting it out, as Cyrano said, as if it were a rotten piece of meat from the mouth of a giant. Or, he added, as if it were a baby overeager to be born, shot out from the womb of a mother who couldn't wait to get rid of her nine-months' burden.

The Frenchman sometimes overstrained his metaphors and similes.

The clear air and the bright sun and the green vegetation made them feel like bursting into song. Cyrano, gri

Aukuso had begun transmitting the ship's call letters as soon as it had gained a high altitude. Not until an hour had passed, however, did he report that he had made contact with the Mark Twain.

Jill started to report to Sam Clemens, but he interrupted her with a furious description of de Greystock's treacherous attack. She was shocked, but she became impatient with his overlong, overdetailed narrative. His boat was not badly damaged; her account was the important thing.

Finally, he ran down.

"I've discharged most of my bile, for the moment, anyway. Say, why are you talking to me? Where's Firebrass?"

"I didn't have a chance to say more than two words," she said. And she described in detail the events from the moment the airship had entered the hole in the mountain.

It was his turn to be shocked. Except, however, for some explo­sive curses, he did not comment until she had finished.

"So Firebrass is dead, and you think he was one of Them? Maybe he wasn't, Jill. Did it occur to you that the black sphere might have been implanted in a small number of us for some scientific purpose? That perhaps only one in a thousand or ten thousand has it? I don't know what its purpose could be. Maybe it transmits brain waves which They record for use in some sort of scientific experiment. Or it could be used by Them to keep tabs on certain preselected subjects."

"I hadn't thought of that," she said. "I'd like to think that you're right, because I hate to think that Firebrass could be one of Them.''

"Me, too. However, the important thing just now is that a ground expedition is useless. I built those two boats for nothing. Well, not actually for nothing. There's something to be said for life on the boat. It affords luxuries you can't get elsewhere-except on the Rex-and it's the fastest way to travel, although I really have no definite place to go to anymore. But I haven't forgotten King John. I'm going to catch up with him and fix him for what he did to me."

"You're wrong about one thing, Sam," she said. "I think we can get into the tower. All I need is the laser."

It sounded to her as if Clemens was strangling.

"You mean that....hat Firebrass told you about it? Why, that unjudicious, ungrateful, unprincipled... garrh! I told him not to say a word! He knew how important it was to keep it a secret! Now everybody in the wheelhouse knows it. They've heard every word you said. I'll have to get them to swear not to reveal it, and just how much chance is there they'll not let it slip? If Firebrass were here, I'd choke him with one hand and stick my cigar up his ass with the other!"

Sam went on, "Besides, you should have waited until you got here before you said anything. For all I know, John's radiomen have been listening in to us for years! They might have figured out how our scramblers work and be taking in every word now, pleased as a hog that's just found a fresh pile of cow flop!"

"I'm sorry about that," she said. "But it was necessary to mention it. We have to make arrangements for picking the laser up without landing."

Jill added, "I need the laser. It's the only means we have of getting into the tower. Without it all our long labors and the deaths of several people have been in vain."

"And I need it to slice up John and his boat. It's a surefire thing, double-guaranteed to get a quick victory."

Trying to keep the anger out of her voice, she said,' "Think on it, Sam. Which is more important, revenge on King John or solving the mystery of this world, finding out why we're here and who did this?

"Besides, there's no reason you can't have both. We'll return the laser to you after we use it."

"Both be damned to hell and back! How do I know you will come back? The next time you may get caught by those people. They can sit inside, smug as mice behind a wall laughing at the cat, if you can't get to them. But when you start cutting with that laser, you think they'll just sit on their hands and allow you to waltz on in?

"They'll grab you, just as they did Piscator. And then what? Besides, for all you know, the metal of the tower could be resistant to a laser beam."

"Too right. But we have to try. That's the only way we can find out."

"All right, all right! You've got logic and right on your side, as if that ever won an argument! But I'm a reasonable man. So, you can have the laser!

"But, and this is a big but, as the queen of Spain said to Dan Sickles, you've got to get Rotten John for me first!"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean that I want you to make a raid on the Rex. Send in a party in the chopper at night and grab John. I'd rather see him here alive, but if you can't get him alive and kicking, kill him!"

"That's stupid and vicious!" Jill said. "We could lose the chopper and all the raiding party in a useless, vainglorious venture. Not to mention risking lives, we can't afford to lose the chopper. It's the only one we have."

Sam had been breathing heavily, but he waited until he had regained his wind. Now he spoke smoothly, icily.

"It's you that's being stupid now. If John is gotten rid of, I won't have any reason to pit my boat against the Rex. Think of the lives that'll be saved. For all I care, his second-in-command, whoever he is, can take over and I'll wish him good luck. All I want is that John doesn't get away with all the crimes he committed and that he doesn't get to keep the beautiful boat I toiled and sweated and plotted and suffered agonies for. And don't forget that he tried to sink this boat, too!