Текст книги "White Death"

Автор книги: Clive Cussler

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Текущая страница: 24 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

39

AUSTIN SAT ON the box offish antibiotics, holding the sword blade between his knees, his head bent against the hilt. A stranger would have seen this pose as one of dejection, but Zavala knew better. Austin would act when he was ready.

Zavala was keeping himself occupied with a set of exercises that were part yoga, part Zen and part old-fashioned shadowboxing to loosen him up and focus his mind. He finished demolishing an imag– inary opponent with a left uppercut and a quick right cross, brushed his palms together and said, "I've just knocked out Rocky Marciano, Sugar Ray Robinson and Muhammad Ali in quick succession."

Austin looked up and said, "Save some punches for Barker and his pals. We're starting to descend."

Austin had been gambling that Barker was telling the truth when he said that he intended to feed them to his so-called pets and dump what was left into the Atlantic Ocean. A murderer like Barker would resort to any form of violence and duplicity to achieve his goals, but his inflated vision of himself extended to his godlike pronounce– ments of life and death. If Barker said he would kill them over the Atlantic, he meant it.

Austin had been waiting for the refueling stop, hoping the zep– pelin's crew would be distracted as the great airship came in for a landing. The guards had taken the men's wristwatches, and it was impossible to keep accurate track of the passage of time. After see– ing that they were cut off from sight and sound, Austin had stuck the sword point into the floor and put his ear against the hilt. The sword picked up the engine vibrations like a stylus on a record player. In the last few minutes, the pitch had changed. The engines had slowed. He stood and walked over to the sturdy wood-paneled door. They had put their shoulders against it earlier, but all they had gotten for their trouble were bruises.

Austin knocked softly on the door. He wanted to be sure no guard was standing on the other side. When there was no reply, he gripped the sword hilt in two hands, lifted the blade over his head and brought it down, putting all the considerable strength in his thick arms behind the thrust.

The wood splintered, but the blade didn't go through the door.

Using the point, he pried off a section as big as his hand, then enlarged it. Working furiously, he opened a hole big enough to slip his arm through. The latch had been padlocked. After several more minutes, taking turns hacking at the wood with Zavala, they cut the latch off and pushed the door open. Seeing no guards, they cautiously made their way back to the fish hold. Austin leaned over the gangway.

"Sorry to disappoint you boys," he said to the milky shapes swim– ming around in the tanks, "but we have other dinner plans."

"They probably don't like Mexican food anyhow," Zavala said.

"Check out the water level."

The surface of the water was at a slant, indicating that the zeppe– lin was inclined at a forward angle. They were on their way down. Austin wanted to get into the control car but suspected it would be heavily defended. They would have to be more creative. Again he looked for an answer in Barker's psychotic personality. In his ram– bling discourse, Barker had revealed more than he should have.

"Hey, Joe," Austin said thoughtfully, "do you remember what our host said about the sluice gates?"

"They keep the more aggressive fish separated. Otherwise, his lit– tle pets would chew themselves to pieces."

"He also said that the systems on this gasbag are hot-wired. I'll bet that when the sluice gates are removed, an alarm goes off. How would you like to create a little chaos?"

Austin pulled up one of the gates. The fish on either side of the gate had come to the top of the tank, thinking that the presence of a human meant they were about to be fed. When the gate was re– moved, they all froze for an instant. Then their fins became a blur. There was a flash of silvery white and snapping jaws. Recalling the fate Barker had planned for them, Austin and Zavala watched the silent battle with a cold feeling in the pits of their stomachs. Within seconds, the tanks were filled with blood and fish parts. The creatures had ripped each other to shreds.

A red light on the wall had started to flash when the gate was re– moved. Austin waited by the door while Zavala lounged on the cat– walk. He almost shouted for joy when only one guard showed up. The guard stopped short when he saw Zavala, and raised his rifle. Austin stepped up from behind and said, "Hello." When the guard turned, Austin jammed his elbow into the man's jaw. The guard crumpled to the floor like a sack of blubber. Austin scooped up the rifle and tossed it to Zavala. Then he found a switch that turned the alarm off.

With Zavala rearmed and Austin clenching his sword as if he were about to lay siege to a castle, they left the fish hold and followed a short corridor that led to a set of stairs going down to the control cabin. From their elevated vantage point, they could see through the open door. Men were moving about the cabin or were at the controls, but Barker wasn't among them. Austin signaled for Zavala to back away. The control cabin could wait. It made no sense to tangle with the claws and teeth of the monster called Oceanus when it might be easier to cut off its head.

Austin had a pretty good idea where he might find Barker. They hurried back through the fish hold and along a passageway until they came to the combination work area and museum where Austin had found Durendal. Austin's guess as to Barker's whereabouts was correct. The scientist and his scarfaced henchman were bent over the chart table.

With his animal instincts, Scarface sensed their intrusion and raised his head. He saw the two NUMA men, and his face contorted in an expression of savage fury. Barker heard his henchman snarl and looked up. After his initial surprise, he broke out in a smile. Austin couldn't see the eyes behind the sunglasses, but he could tell that they were fixed on the sword. Without a word, Barker went over and picked up the horn, then looked inside the chest.

"Well, well, Mr. Austin. It seems that you're a thief as well as a stowaway."

He closed the lid and went to replace the horn on top. But first he glanced over at Scarface, who replied with an almost imperceptible nod. Before Austin could move. Barker threw the horn at Zavala's head. Zavala ducked and the horn missed him by a few inches. Tak– ing advantage of the distraction, Umealiq dropped down behind the desk. With the agility of a cat, he gained the protection of the heavy sofa. He popped up like an ugly jack-in-the-box, let off a wild shot from a handgun, then disappeared through a doorway.

"Get him before he alerts the others!" Austin shouted. But Zavala was already on his way.

Austin and Barker were left alone. With the smile still pasted on his ghostly face. Barker said, "Seems as if this is between you and me, Mr. Austin."

Austin returned the smile. "If that's the case, you're through." "Brave words. But consider your position. Umealiq will kill your partner, and within moments, armed men will come pouring through that door."

"Consider your position, Barker." He raised the sword and ad– vanced. "I'm about to cut your cold heart out and toss it to your mu– tant monsters."

Barker spun around like a ballet dancer, snatched a harpoon off the wall of the Eskimo display and, with a flick of his wrist, hurled it at Austin with amazing accuracy. Austin stooped to avoid the mis– sile. The harpoon buried itself in the chest of one of the mummies. The stand holding the mummified body in leather crashed over, pulling down the section of airship skin with the word Nietzsche on it. Barker snatched another harpoon off the wall and charged at Austin, with an ivory knife from the display in his other hand.

Austin lopped off the harpoon point with a quick swing of the sword, but the movement left him open. He stepped backward to avoid the knife and stepped on the horn, which was lying on the floor. His ankle buckled and 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?"

"Fatal gas attack." He glanced around. "We might want to get off this thing."

"I was just starting to enjoy the ride, but I see your point."

They hurried forward to the control car. There were only three men in the cabin. One man stood in front of a spoked wheel at the forward end of the car. Another manned a similar wheel on the port side. A third, who seemed to be in command, was directing them. He went for a pistol in his belt when he saw Austin and Zavala enter the cabin. Austin was in no mood for fooling around.

He stuck the sword's razor-sharp blade under the commander's Adam's apple and said, "Where are the others?"

Fear replaced the hatred in the man's dark eyes. "They're manning mooring lines for the landing."

While Zavala kept him covered, Austin lowered the sword and went over to one of the gondola windows. Lines dangled from a dozen points along the length of the great zeppelin. The zeppelin's lights illuminated the upturned faces of the men who waited below to grab the lines and pull the airship down to a mooring tower. He turned and ordered the commander to take his men and leave the control car. Then he locked the door behind them.

"What do you think?" he said to Zavala. "Can you fly this an– tique.

Zavala nodded. "It's like a big ship. The wheel up front is the rud– der control. The one on the side controls the elevators. I'd better take that. It might require a gentle hand."

Austin stepped over to the rudder wheel. The zeppelin was angled forward, giving him a clear view of the scene below. Some of the mooring lines were in the hands of the ground crew.

He took a deep breath and turned to Zavala. "Let's fly."

Zavala turned the elevator wheel, but the zeppelin refused to rise.

Austin cranked the engine controls over to half speed ahead. The air– ship began to move forward, but the mooring lines were holding it down.

"We need more lift," Zavala said.

"What if we dump some weight?"

"That might work."

Austin scanned the control panel until he found what he was look– ing for. "Hold on," he said.

He punched the button. There was a gushing noise as the fish tanks emptied. Hundreds of wriggling fish and thousands of gallons of water poured out of the chutes under the airship and rained down on the men below. The ground crew scattered, releasing the moor– ing lines. Those men who didn't let go found themselves lifted in the air when the airship rose suddenly with the loss of ballast. Then they, too, dropped off.

The zeppelin moved forward and up until it was in the clear. Austin found that the rudder controls, as Zavala said, were not un– like those used to steer a ship. There was a delay before the great mass above their heads responded to the turn of the wheel. Austin steered the zeppelin out to sea. In the golden sparkle cast by the dawning sun, he could see the silhouette of a boat a few miles offshore. Then, he was distracted by a loud banging on the control-cabin door.

He yelled over his shoulder. "I think we've worn out our wel– come, Joe."

"I wasn't aware we'd ever had a welcome, but I won't argue with you."

Austin steered toward the boat, and when they were closer, he brought the engine speed down to SLOW. Zavala turned the elevator wheel so that the zeppelin would move up. Then they climbed through the windows and grabbed a couple of mooring lines. Austin had some trouble holding on because of his latest wound, but he was able to wrap his legs around the rope and control his descent fairly well. They started to rappel to the sea as the zeppelin began to regain altitude.

Paul had been standing watch a few minutes earlier when he heard the unmistakable sound of big engines. Something was going on in the air over the Oceanus facility. A minute before, beams of light had stabbed the sky. He saw a huge shadow, then lights were bounc– ing off the metallic skin of the airship. The airship turned seaward, gradually moving lower as it approached the boat.

He awakened Gamay and asked her to alert the rest of the crew. He was afraid Oceanus might have called in aerial support. The sleepy-eyed captain was on deck a moment later.

"What's going on?" he said.

Paul pointed at the approaching zeppelin, which glowed as if it were on fire from the golden rays of the new sun. "We'd better get moving. I don't know whether that's a friend or enemy."

The captain was fully awake now. He ran for the bridge.

Professor Throckmorton was on deck as well. "Dear God," the professor said. "That's the biggest thing I've ever seen."

The engines growled and the boat began to move. They watched nervously as the airship cut the distance between them. It was mov– ing erratically, left and right, then its nose would go high and low. But one thing was clear, it was coming right at them. It was so low now that the lines dangling from below touched the waves.

Gamay had been focused on the control cabin. She saw heads ap– pear in the windows, then two men climbed out and slid down the ropes. She pointed them out to Paul, and a broad grin crossed his face.

The captain had returned to the deck. Paul told him to bring the boat to a stop.

"But they'll catch us."

"Exactly right, Captain, exactly right."

Mumbling to himself, the captain raced back to the bridge. Paul and Gamay grabbed some crew members and readied the vessel's inflatable outboard boat. The engines cut to an idle, and the boat plowed to a halt as the zeppelin's gigantic silhouette filled the sky. As the airship came abeam, the figures hanging from the lines dropped into the sea with two great splashes. The inflatable came alongside the heads bobbing in the waves. Paul and Gamay pulled Zavala and Austin aboard.

"Nice of you to drop in," Paul said.

"Nice of you to pick us up," Austin said.

Even as he grinned with pleasure, Austin was keeping an eye on the zeppelin. To his relief, after the airship leveled out, it steered on a course away from the ship. Barker's men must have broken back into the control car. They would have made short work of the boat and everyone on it with their automatic weapons. But the Kiolya were headless now, without Toonook, their great leader.

Within minutes, friendly hands were helping Austin and the oth– ers back onto the research vessel. Austin and Zavala were taken below and provided with dry clothes. Gamay did a professional job patching up Austin's latest wound with bandages. The injury might require a few stitches, but it looked worse than it was. On the plus side, Austin consoled himself, he would have matching scars on ei– ther side of his rib cage. He and Zavala were sitting in the galley with the Trouts, enjoying strong coffee and the warmth from the stove, when the cook, a Newfoundlander, asked if they wanted breakfast.

Austin realized they hadn't eaten since the jerky they had had the previous day. From the look in Zavala's eyes, he was equally hungry.

"Anything you can rustle up," Austin said. "Just make sure there's a lot of it."

"I can give you fish cakes and eggs," the cook said.

"Fish cakes?" Zavala said.

"Sure. It's a Newfie specialty."

Austin and Zavala exchanged glances. "No, thanks," they said.