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visible overhead; any minute now Martel would be opening his window again and
announcing his imminent departure. No, Tirrell would have to trust Tonio's
judgment... and perhaps, he thought suddenly, that was the best decision his
tired and irresolute mind had been able to make. Perhaps the best decision it
could have made.
The thought failed to console him. Staring through the gloom at the almost
invisible refinery, he listened with half an ear as Kesner directed his
righthand force into position, and tried to ignore the painful thudding of his
heart.
Chapter 29
Only the windows themselves were still visible, and they were distinguishable
only as rectangles of navy blue set into a pitch-black background. Seated with
his back to the huge furnace, his hands tied tightly behind him, Jarvis
shifted slightly to ease his muscles.
The figure standing over him stirred in response. "Relax," Axel's voice came
quietly. "It won't be much longer."
"I'm sure," Jarvis murmured. "You realize, of course, that the police aren't
going to just let all of us fly merrily out of here. And if that cyanide hits
me, it'll be you who gets charged with murder."
Axel chuckled. "You don't know Omega very well. He'll get us out of here, all
right. Don't worry about that."
"Don't underestimate Tirrell," Jarvis warned. Under cover of the conversation,
he carefully probed the edge of the furnace's metal plate sheathing with his
fingers, searching for another place where the
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A Coming of Age coating of rust was thick enough to abrade rope. Omega was
smart, all right, but the pressure was making him careless, and he hadn't
bothered to check the metal before sitting Jarvis here. Finding a new spot,
the scientist resumed his stealthy rubbing. "And my other comment still
stands:
you're the one holding those bowls over my head, not Omega. He didn't give you
this job because he likes you he did it because he thinks that dragging you in
as deep as he is will insure your loyalty to him."
"A lot he knows about loyalty." Axel shifted position again and Jarvis tensed
involuntarily. The two small bowls floating rim to rim directly over his head
held enough sodium cyanide powder in the space between them to kill him ten
times over... and the only thing holding it up there was Axel's teekay,
transmitted through a single finger touching each bowl. A slight distraction,
a flash of light or whiff of tear gas, and it would literally be all over.
"Let me tell you a little secret," Axel continued, lowering his voice still
further. "As soon as we're all set up in Omega's secret hideaway, I'm going to
get rid of him. I don't think he's telling the truth about making us into
priests, and I don't want to wait until Transition to find out for sure."
"You aren't going to live even that long." There was a slight jerk in the rope
binding his wrists as one more of the fibers broke. Jarvis strained carefully
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at what was left. Not quite enough. "If you know
Omega as well as you say, you must know he won't just wait for you to act
against him."
"You let me worry about that, okay? Now shut up," he added as, across the
room, Martel began speaking. "I want to hear this."
It was not, as Jarvis had feared, the order to move out, but merely another in
Martel's series of speculations as to what the police were doing. The relative
silence suited Jarvis just fine, though.
Leaning hard into the rusty metal, he put as much power into his efforts as he
could without making any noise... and with a suddenness that jammed his wrists
painfully against the edge, the rope finally broke.
Quickly, hardly daring to believe he'd done it, he worked his hands free from
the loops around them.
Then, moving carefully lest the sound of rustling cloth alert his guard, he
rolled over onto his hands and knees and began to crawl, heading for the back
side of the furnace. The first three meters were the hardest, as he waited
with nerves on end for the shouts that would mean his discovery. But even to
his own hyperalert ears he made no sound, and as he continued on, his fears
gradually diminished.
By the time he halted, half the circumference of the furnace and an eternity
later, his heartbeat was no longer the loudest sound in the room. Leaning back
against the furnace, his shirt soaked with sweat, he swiped at his forehead
with a trembling hand and took his first deep breath in hours. For the moment,
at least, he was free.
But even with darkness to hide him, such freedom would only last a little
while past the discovery of his escape unless he could get out of the
building. The doors, he knew, were out; any that weren't barricaded against
the police would undoubtedly have preteens guarding them. The windows weren't
designed for easy egress, and opening them made enough noise to wake the dead,
anyway. But there was one more possible escape route... one that Martel might
not have thought to block.
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A Coming of Age
Jarvis's memory was far from eidetic, but he'd had ample time to study the
room's layout through the long afternoon. Slipping his shoes off, he took his
bearings from the windows and set off in what he hoped was the proper
direction, feeling carefully for obstacles with hands and toes. Ten paces
later he found what he was looking for: one of the ladders leading to the
network of catwalks high above.
With a silent plea to the metal not to squeak, he started up.
His luck held all the way up the ladder and perhaps four steps along the
catwalk itself. But his fifth step brought his weight down on what was
apparently a rust-weakened section of the grating, and with a loud snap that
seemed to reverberate forever one of the heavy wires broke under his foot.
He froze, and on the floor below the quiet conversations abruptly ceased.
"What was that?" one of the kids whispered nervously and the words were barely
out when Axel's bellow split the air.
"Grack!
Omega he got away!"
"Damn you, Axel no, hold it, damn it, everyone just stay where you are for a
minute. Jarvis, you can't get away we've got the doors blocked and we'll tear
your head off if you try for one of the windows. Give yourself up right now or
I guarantee the consequences will be very, very painful."
Under cover of Martel's voice, Jarvis had made it another six steps along the
catwalk. Now, as silence again settled onto the room, he paused, hardly daring
to breathe. Clearly, no one below had yet realized where the original noise
had come from, and he had no intention of giving them unnecessary hints. Pitch
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darkness or not, once they figured out he was on one of the catwalks they
could have him in thirty seconds flat. Squinting into the darkness, he tried
unsuccessfully to see how far ahead the next intersecting catwalk was, the one
he needed to get on.
"All right, Jarvis, have it your way," Martel snarled suddenly. "Axel, Brody,
Royce go to the east end of the room and start working your way west. Cover
every square centimeter of floor and wall and make sure he hasn't climbed onto
any of the machinery."
Jarvis had made it to the intersection and onto the proper catwalk by the time
Martel finished talking but he knew his time was nearly up. The mere mention
of climbing was bound to bring this aerial walkway to mind, and the minute
Martel remembered it he would certainly reach the proper conclusion. Quickly, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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