Текст книги "The Invisibility Affair"

Автор книги: Thomas Stratton

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Chapter 13

"There Must Be an Operator's Manual In Here Somewhere"

Napoleon hesitantly released one of the girders and reached upward. After a second, he located another handhold and decided he could risk moving one of his feet. As he cautiously lifted his foot and felt about for something solid to put it on, Illya voice came from several feet above him.

"Come on up. There's a catwalk up here, and I think there's some light about a hundred feet toward the front."

Napoleon said nothing, only concentrated on climbing. After a minute, he was standing relatively upright on what felt like a metal strip about a foot wide. Looking toward the forward end of the dirigible, he could make out a faint blob of light. A few feet n front of him, something—presumably Illya—was fuzzily outlined against it.

"I'm here," Napoleon announced. "Keep in mind that despite what we're standing on, I'm not a cat."

"Just follow me. There are plenty of handholds on both sides. The netting around the gas bags is probably the safest thing to grab for in moments of panic, however. Less likely to damage yourself on that than on the outer frame. And remember, if you miss the frame, you can fall right through the fabric covering."

"I'm touched by your concern. Where are we going?"

"Up to the nose and back down through the center if we're lucky," Illya said.

"Down the center? The keel, you mean? We just left that."

"No, the center. The gas bags are probably doughnut shaped and if they are, there will be a catwalk right through the center, from nose to tail. Somewhere along it, there should be a ladder going up. And there should be at least one other catwalk along the top of the gas bags."

"You make this thing sound like a floating briar patch."

"Most dirigibles were. Let's just hope Brer Thrush doesn't spot us and follow us in."

The blob of light was bigger now, and they could see a second one further down where the shell started curving in toward the nose. Soon they reached the first area of light. It was coming faintly from the open space between tow gas bags.

The two agents halted, and Illya peered cautiously around the main-frame girders that marked the division between the bags. After a second, he moved quickly across and motioned Napoleon to do the same.

Napoleon glanced around the edge of the bag and quickly joined Illya in the shadow of the next one. "It looks like a bicycle wheel for the Jolly Green Giant," he remarked as they moved on.

"It works on somewhat the same principle," Illya replied. "Those wires do most of the work in holding the ship rigid."

A swaying motion cut off any further information. "Going up," Illya announced. He stopped, took the knife from his pants pocket, braced himself against the lighter girders of one of the intermediate frames, and sawed a slit in the outer fabric. Returning the knife to his pocket, he widened the slit with his fingers and peered out."They have most of the mooring lines loose," he said. "We'll be on our way any minute."

Napoleon gave Illya a hand in getting back onto the catwalk. "Can we find those valves soon enough?" he asked. "El Presidente's palace in Cerro Bueno isn't too far from here, as the dirigible flies."

"If we don't find them, we can start cutting holes in the bags."

The agents started along the catwalk again. They passed another main frame, this one unlighted, and then came to the second blob of light. As before, Illya peer cautiously around the corner before crossing the lighted area. As then moved ahead again, he whispered over his shoulder, "That's probably the light above the control gondola. Any ladders from the center to the upper catwalk will probably be there."

Napoleon remained silent. As they continued moving forward, the curve became more pronounced and soon they were surrounded by darkness. The agents slowed their pace and Illya made sure of his footing before each step.

"At this rate," Napoleon said, "our friends will be over Cerro Bueno before we find the nose of the dirigible."

"Lead the way, if you want to move faster," Illya retorted. "Just remember, this thing has just made its first flight in over thirty years. I want to be sure the catwalk is really there before I step on it."

Another tremor silenced them. Illya paused to cut another slit and peer out for a second. "They're lifting," he announced.

At that moment the engines came to life, and the agents could feet the gentle forward movement that passed for acceleration in a dirigible. They moved along the catwalk again until they reached a main frame which apparently coincided with the location of the control gondola. Here there was a ladder, running from the keel to, they hoped, a catwalk at the top.

Illya inspected the ladder briefly, then stepped out on it and began to climb. Napoleon followed.

"We aren't likely to run into any crew members, are we?" Napoleon asked. "I feel somewhat exposed out here."

"Not likely. There's very little need to inspect the gas bags in flight, normally, and since they seem to be running with a skeleton crew, they'll probably have little time for such niceties."

The climb took less than a minute and was relatively quiet. Now that the dirigible was moving forward, the tremors had subsided and the upper catwalk seemed a steady platform. They could see a single, dim light bulb glowing about a hundred feet toward the stern. The outer covering was visible through the girders only a foot over their heads.

"What do these valves that we're supposed to be finding look like?" Napoleon asked.

"My dirigible lore doesn't go that far. Presumably they look like valves. They'd have to be pretty big—perhaps several inches across. And they would have to be attached to either electric wires or control cables so they could be operated from the control room. Electric operators would be my guess, but I couldn't say what a German engineer in the 1920's would pick. They should be located fairly close to the catwalk so they could be inspected."

"If they're very far from that light just ahead, we're going to have to feel for them."

"If we don't find them soon, we can start stabbing at the gas bags, and– Did that light flicker just then?"

As if it had been waiting for them to give it a cur, the light went out. Both agents froze in their tracks, then slowly turned to look back along the catwalk. There was not even a distant glow.

"Why should they black out the ship in flight?" Napoleon asked.

"They don't normally. Must be an electrical failure. Can you hear the engines?"

Napoleon listened form a second. "I think so. If the failure is in the control gondola, do you suppose the OTSMID is dead, too?"

"We'll see. Don't jar me in the next minute," Illya said. There was the sound of metal on metal, then a series of cutting noises.

Illya's voice came again. "There's no light at all outside, and the moon was out when we got in here. The OTSMID must still be functioning."

Napoleon thought for a moment. "We'd better give up on finding the valves. Let me strike a match and we'll see about puncturing a few gas bags." He pulled a battered matchbook from his pocket, extracted a match, carefully felt for the striking surface, and deftly scraped the match head across the surface.

Nothing happened.

Muttering about Central American matches, Napoleon located the striking surface again, in preparation for a second attempt. Just as he touched the match to the striking surface, pain shot through his fingers. Stifling a yell, he dropped it and shook his hand violently.

"That thing was lit!" he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper.

"Lit?" Illya's voice came from a foot away. "You're sure?"

"My fingers are sure."

Illya thought for a second. "I'm tempted to ask what does it all mean, but I suspect that I know."

Napoleon agreed. "The OTSMID is working and the nullifier isn't. Does that suggest anything to you?"

"It suggests we aren't going to locate the gas valves."

Napoleon considered the situation. "I think it's worth a gamble. If the nullifier comes back on, the chances are that we will either be in control of the ship, or we won't have gotten far enough along to be trapped. And if we could get control of the ship..."

"Let's get moving, then. Reaching the control gondola without seeing it will be a problem. Keep feeling for that ladder; if we miss it we're stuck up here." On their hands and knees, the agents crawled along the catwalk, feeling the empty space to their right every few inches to make they could touch the ladder when they came to it.

Once they reached the ladder, it was no more difficult to descend in the total blackness than it had been to ascend in the light. As they reached the relatively firm footing of the keel, they could hear the buzz of excited conversation coming from the area of the stern. Over of the general turmoil, they could make out two or three voices coming from almost directly beneath them. No words could be distinguished.

"There they are," Napoleon whispered. "How do we get at them?"

"There should be a hatch near the bottom of the ladder," Illya whispered back. "Feel for it. If we can find it, it should let us down just back of the control room where they had the OTSMID."

Both agents dropped to their knees and began running their hands rapidly around the surface of the keel. "Here it is," Napoleon said after a few minutes.

Illya crawled across the Napoleon and ran hand down Napoleon's arm until he felt the break in the metal that outlined the hatch.

"When we drop," Napoleon said, "you stay where you land, and flatten anyone who comes in or out. I'll take care of the men inside. Don't move any further than you can help; my only advantage will be that I know that anyone I run into is an enemy."

"And after we've seized the ship?"

"As long as we can keep anyone from turning the nullifier back on, we'll have plenty of time to decide what to do. Those paratroops back there aren't going to jump blind." He twisted the latch and lifted the trap door.

As the trap door opened, Hunter's voice came booming through. "When are you going to get that thing fixed, anyway?"

Another voice, which both agents recognized as McNulty's replied. "I don't know. The only one who knows this thing is Dr. Morthley, and we left him back at headquarters. All I can do is keep reducing power to the field; I'm not even sure it was the attempt to expand the field that did the damage. For all I know, Morthley sabotaged the machine somehow."

"You were the one who told Forbes you could operate this rig," Hunter said accusingly.

"I said I knew how to work the controls; I didn't say Morthley had given me a course in field maintenance and repair. If you want to try your hand at running this thing by feel, come on over."

There was the sound of someone coming down the steps that led up and back to the main cargo and passenger area of dirigible. "Who's that?" Hunter asked.

"Sanders," came the reply. "The boys back there are still worried, but I told them if an old man like me wasn't afraid of the dark, they didn't need to be." He cackled. "They'll jump when you give the word. When are you going to get the lights back on, anyway?"

Napoleon waited until sanders' voice passed beneath him, then dropped through the hatch as quietly as possible. He moved forward to get out of Illya's way, then stopped to listen. Sanders' question started Hunter and McNulty quarreling again and Sander, from the sound of the breathing, had stopped moving at the same time he stopped talking. Behind him, Napoleon heard a light thud, presumably Illya dropping to the gondola deck. Evidently Sanders heard it, too. "Somebody back there?" he inquired. Napoleon thought about the muzzles of the invisible Ithaca swinging to cover his stomach, and quickly stepped to one side and began to creep forward. At this range, even if Sanders shot blind, he might very well get both U.N.C.L.E. agents. A twin load of buckshot was nothing to fool with. It seemed, however, that Sanders wasn't the nervous type. Napoleon heard him shuffle his feet as he changed position, and then he remarked to the world at large, "There must be some big rats on this ship. I just heard one."

"Probably just ship noises," Hunter said. "This thing creaks like an old windjammer."

"How would you know what a windjammer sounds like?" McNulty said with a sneer.

"Because I've sailed in one, you pipsqueak! You and your antiquities societies...I've done things! All you do is talk about them."

Napoleon smiled. If they would just keep on talking, he could tell where they were and his job would be much easier. He must be close to Sanders now. He reached out, cautiously, and touched the man's back. Sanders started to turn, but Napoleon quickly located the caretaker's neck with his left hand and delivered a solid karate chop with his right. The Ithaca clattered on the deck as Napoleon grabbed Sanders and eased him down. A quick search located the gun and something in one of Sanders' pockets that felt like a Thrush communicator. He pocketed the communicator and stuck the gun through his belt, feeling much safer.

Deciding that any sudden cessation of talk from either Hunter of McNulty would make the other one suspicious, he crept forward toward two other men he could hear talking in low tones near the front of the gondola. He didn't quite make it.

"Sanders, what do you think you're doing?" Hunter demanded, his words coming from a point inches away from Napoleon's face. Napoleon mumbled something he hoped was a passable imitation of Sanders' cracked voice.

"Speak up, dammit!" Hunter yelled.

Accurately gauging the location of the voice, Napoleon chopped Hunter across the throat, then got him with a blow to the back of the neck as he stood strangling. He caught the Thrush as he fell, and relieve him of a pistol and another communicator. After some thought, he put the communicator back; he didn't have room to carry it. He hefted the pistol, then reversed it and gripped it firmly by the barrel as he moved forward again. McNulty had begun to curse the OTSMID, which Napoleon hoped would keep him from noticing that he wasn't getting acid comments from Hunter any more.

Napoleon moved up behind the two men at the front of the gondola, who seemed to be standing and idly talking. Once he ran into something and stopped to rub a painful shin. The voices were close to him now. He crept up behind the nearest one, reached out to touch the man's shoulder, and then swung the pistol at the spot where the head would be. The man collapsed and Napoleon eased him to the floor.

The second man sensed that something was wrong. "Hey, Rudolph, what happened?" he asked. Getting no answer made him more nervous. Napoleon could hear him moving about. "Rudolph? Say something; what's going on?" Napoleon reached to locate the man by feel when the lights suddenly came on. He leaped and swung the pistol; the Thrush collapsed.

Napoleon whirled toward the OTSMID and McNulty. The latter had turned to jeer at Hunter. "If you'd just shut up earlier I could have..." He took in the situation and reached for the pistol in the shoulder holster under his coat, at which point Illya stepped silently behind him and pressed the point of the knife into his ribs. McNulty froze. Napoleon got his pistol reversed and aimed at the Thrush agent, while Illya deftly reached under McNulty's coat and extracted the pistol, exclaiming in surprise as he noted that the gun was his own U.N.C.L.E. Special. He stepped well back, out of range of a sudden gram by McNulty and out of Napoleon's line of fire. Spotting the open door leading to the dirigible body, he ran back and slid it tightly shut.

"Get his communicator," Napoleon said. "And you might frisk him for any secret weapons before you tie him up. We can check these others after we get him put away."

McNulty had a communicator but no obvious weapons. From the unconscious Thrushes, Illya gained three communicators, two more guns, and an assortment of wristwatches. Napoleon stared at the latter booty in some puzzlement. "Aren't you carrying your Russian background a bit far?" he inquired.

"I have seen wristwatches," Illya said, "which contained, among other things, secret cameras, radio receivers and transmitters, electronic equipment, miniature time bombs, and one that could be reassembled into a tiny machine pistol. It was a rather large watch," he added, noting Napoleon's disbelieving stare.

"We'd better try to get the troops out before they send someone up to investigate," Napoleon said. He turned to McNulty. "What was the signal to jump?" he asked.

McNulty glared at him and said nothing. Napoleon glanced around the gondola. His eyes lit on the door. "How high would you say we are?" he asked no one in particular.

Illya thought for a minute, turned several switches on the OTSMID, then walked to the front of the gondola and looked out. "I'd estimate at least a thousand feet," he said. He looked thoughtfully at McNulty. "High enough for a parachute to operate. Too bad we don't have one for you."

Napoleon was studying McNulty with interest. "You could use some of the properties of a real Thrush in about thirty second, if we don't get some information out of you."

McNulty laughed. "You don't scare, U.N.C.L.E. doesn't operate that way."

Napoleon moved over to the door and released the catch. "When he's gone, I suppose we'll just have to make do. Do you think that we could just open that door back there and yell at them?"

"I don't see why not," Illya said. "The communicators could have been affected by the blackout, for all they know. Come on, now, Arpad." Each agent took one of McNulty's arms and urged him toward the open door.

McNulty held back. "Oh, come on, now. We all know that you're not going to push me out. You can't; it isn't civilized. You simply aren't going to do it, I know you're not. You..." He paused briefly as he faced the opening from a distance of less than a foot. "By George, I believe you would, at that," he decided. "All right, I know when to quit. There's an intercom system up front. You just announce 'Prepare to jump,' then give them a couple of minutes to get the hangar doors open, and say 'Jump' and they jump."

"Very cooperative," Napoleon said, keeping McNulty facing the open door. Illya stepped back to the OTSMID and reversed every switch he had previously thrown. The view of the ground outside the opening was replaced by blackness. He walked to the indicated intercom, studied it for a moment, then flicked a switch and announced, "Prepare to jump."

They could hear a grating sound from somewhere back of the gondola. When it stopped, Illya said "Jump!"

There was a very slight swaying motion as fifty men dropped almost simultaneously through the open hangar doors. "Go check, just to make sure," Napoleon said.

Illya crossed the length of the gondola, pausing for a moment to administer a thump to Sanders, who was beginning to show signs of life. "Tough old bird," he remarked. Checking the body of the dirigible he found no one. Even the man who operated the hangar doors had apparently jumped with the rest; the doors still swung open. Tidily, he closed them and returned to report.

Napoleon nodded in satisfaction. "See if you can find something to tie all these people up. We can't be stopping to crack someone over the head every few minutes."

Rummaging through the storage areas in the gondola, Illya located an assortment of odds and ends including a very large coil of rope. He cut several lengths from the latter and tied up the Thrushes.

"Now then," Napoleon said, "we are approximately a thousand feet up, invisible, and heading in the direction of, first, Cerro Bueno and, second, the Pacific Ocean. What does your dirigible lore say about getting us back to hearth and home?"

Illya looked about the interior of the gondola. "First, I'm going to look for some instructions. There must be an operator's manual somewhere."

Chapter 14

"Hi-Yo, Dirigible!"

After a few minutes, it became obvious that there were no operating instructions aboard.

"Well," Napoleon said as he looked around the control room, "there don't seem to be too many controls. Why don't we try them one at a time and see what happens."

Illya nodded. "I'm sure Arpad will let us know if we start to do anything dangerous; it's his neck as well as ours."

McNulty glared at them.

"And of course," Napoleon said, "if he doesn't cooperate, there's no real reason to leave him around, is there? Why don't we try waking up Hunter? We'll keep the one who cooperates and pitch the other one out the door."

McNulty grimaced. "Very well. A practical man must be governed by the circumstances, which seem to favor you at the moment."

"Fine," Napoleon said. "Now about these controls?"

"Quite simple, really. The wheel in front controls the rudders. The one on the left, facing the side, controls the elevators. The one on the right controls engine speed, and those switches above the elevator wheel releases the ballast. You seem to have figured out the OTSMID for yourself, and presumably you know something about sonar."

"We seem to need more ballast, not less," Illya said. "But I suppose the elevators can get us down...?"

McNulty nodded. "Just turn the wheel clockwise and set the engines at Slow."

"That's where they're set now," Napoleon said.

McNulty nodded. "We hoped they were. We had to set them by feel when the nullifier quit on us."

"What happened there, anyway?" Napoleon asked.

"I don't know. We were trying to expand the invisibility field, so the paratroops could jump from a good altitude and still be invisible most of the way down. Morthley had shown me how to work the controls. All at once the nullifier quit."

"Some sort of interaction with the expanding invisibility field," Illya said. He turned elevator wheel slowly. There was a slight shift in the deck beneath them as the dirigible's nose lowered, but nothing else.

"What does the sonar say?" Napoleon asked.

"I can't tell from here," Illya said. "Maybe we'd better shut off the OTSMID until we get some practice on this thing. I don't want to plow into any mountains." He walked over to the OTSMID and fiddled with the controls until the absolute blackness outside the gondola windows was again replaced by moonlight. He checked their progress. "We're going down slightly; still pretty high. Incidentally, hadn't we better get this thing turned around? I have no particular urge to provide target practice for El Presidente's boys."

Napoleon nodded, left the engine controls and approached the rudder controls warily. Several full turns were required before Illya reported that the ship was beginning to turn.

"While you were at it, you might have put in power steering," Napoleon told McNulty.

Suddenly the Thrush communicator in Napoleon's pocket buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket while Illya hastened to McNulty's side and gestured suggestively with his knife. McNulty nodded. Napoleon flipped open the communicator and put his hand over the pickup. Someone was already speaking.

"...what happened. We came down in the jungle. I don't even know where we are. I've just managed to collect the group, and we'd like somebody to get us out of here."

Another voice cut in. "Forbes here. You can't contact the dirigible if the OTSMID is functioning. I'll get some help to you from headquarters. Keep talking so we can get a fix on you."

The first voice began to swear, steadily and without inflection. After a minute, Forbes cut in again. "You're not more than fifteen mile from headquarters! You say you don't know what happened?"

"No. The lights went out, and Sanders came back and told us it was just a temporary failure and for us to sit tight. Then they came back on, and a couple minutes later we got the orders to jump. We jumped, and we landed here. Couldn't see the trees until we got out of the field and by then we were in them. Worst foul-up I ever saw!"

It was Forbes' turn to swear, and he did it with more feeling. McNulty has done it again! Well, that young man has either failed or double-crossed me once too often. When I get my hands on him, he'll learn a few things about Thrush discipline." Forbes continued at some length on McNulty's failings and his anticipated punishment for them.

On the dirigible, McNulty's faced paled until it resembled old putty.

Finally Forbes broke off his tirade. "We'll try to get a helicopter out to pick you up. Keep your communicator on so we can locate you. We only have the one copter, so we'll have to bring you in a few at a time."

Napoleon put the communicator back in his pocket. "At least we some of the paratroopers are out of the way for a while. If we work fast, we might be able to get Kerry and Dr. Morthley out before the bulk of them return. It will take the helicopter some time to find the troops and arrange for a pickup."

McNulty looked up, startled. "You aren't going back to Thrush headquarters!"

"Of course," Napoleon replied. "Why not?"

"Look, I don't want to go anywhere near there. Just give me a parachute and let me jump. I know Forbes, and he meant every word he said. Give me a chance to get out of the country."

Napoleon looked thoughtful. "How bad do you want out, Arpad?"

McNulty shuddered. "You don't know Forbes. I do."

"What are you thinking about, Napoleon?" Illya asked.

"Mainly that two men can't operate the dirigible controls, the sonar, and the OTSMID simultaneously. Now, if we let Arpad loose—without a gun, of course—he could handle one of the controls for us. Would you do that Arpad, in return for being allowed to bail out a good long way from Thrush headquarters when the job is done?"

McNulty nodded eagerly.

"Should we trust him?" asked Illya.

"I think we can trust him with reservations. Don't let him get near your gun. Also, I think we should dispose of temptation in the form of his buddies here." Napoleon gestured to the recumbent forms of the Thrushes lying about the control room. "Arpad, are there any extra parachutes about?"

McNulty nodded. "In the second cabin back, on the left. Most of the crew were a little nervous about out airworthiness, so we brought along parachutes for everybody." It was obvious from his tone that McNulty held no sympathy for those who doubted the virtues of his ship.

While Illya brought the parachutes forward, Napoleon opened the gondola door next to the OTSMID and roused the still sleeping Thrushes. After considerable confusion, Hunter, Sanders, Salzwasser and the unidentified crewman were roused and bundled into the parachute packs.

"All right, gentlemen," Napoleon announced as the last buckle slipped into place, "just step through the door over there and remember to pull your ripcords when you've cleared the ship."

"Wait a minute!" Hunter exclaimed, pointing at McNulty, who was cowering near the front of the gondola. "What about him?"

Napoleon smiled. "I shouldn't be giving away secrets, but I'm sure you'll find out eventually. Arpad is one of our best agents."

Hunter nodded. "I should have guessed it. Nobody could foul up that often unless he did it deliberately. All right," he said to McNulty, "you win this time, but if I ever see you again—"

"At the count of three," Napoleon broke in ominously. "One..."

At the count of three, Hunter, followed closely by Sanders, Rudolph, and the unidentified Thrush jumped.

"That seems to dispose of possible saboteurs," Illya said. "Now we can get down to business."

McNulty came hesitantly toward Napoleon. "Don't you think I'm in enough trouble without your telling Hunter I'm one of your agents?" he asked accusingly.

"No, I don't," Napoleon replied firmly. "The more trouble you're in, the less likely you are to think you can double-cross us and get away with it."

Pulling the returned communicator from his pocket, Napoleon called Ishmael. "This is Solo," he said when the man's voice answered. "Have you located the other prisoners yet?"

Sotavento sounded unhappy. "No Se�or. They are on the third floor of the headquarters building, but I have not been able to find out which cell."

"Never mind." Napoleon turned to McNulty. "Which cell did you put Kerry and Dr. Morthley in?"

"The corner cell at the far end of the corridor."

"Which side of the corridor?"

"Toward the back of the building."

Napoleon relayed this information to Sotavento, who sounded even more unhappy than before. "Se�or Solo, I do not think that I can rescue the prisoners from that location. Se�or Forbes has discovered your escape and put guard all around the building, with a man at each end of the upper corridor. Undoubtedly a man of your skill could affect a rescue, but for a poor interpreter..."

"That's all right," Napoleon said. "Try to find out if the prisoners are likely to be moved in the near future, then meet us at the clearing by the river a mile east of the base in half an hour." He turned to Illya. "We're getting close enough so that we could be spotted by the helicopter on one of its flights. Better switch on the OTSMID."

Illya did so, and the bright moonlight around them was replaced by utter blackness. Illya came back and looked at the circular screen on the sonar. "Doesn't tell you much, does it?" he observed after a few seconds.

"Just watch the bottom blip," McNulty offered. "If it gets within ninety degrees of the upper one, you're too close to something, probably the ground. To find out where you are, of course, you have to shut the OTSMID off for a moment."

"Over this jungle, at night, I don't think 'moment' is quite the word," Napoleon said. "Just for the record does anyone know where we are now?"

"We have to be somewhere west of Thrush headquarters," Illya said. "Probably southwest, since Cerro Bueno lies a bit to the south. If we head north, we should cross that little river that flows past the Thrush base, and we could follow that."

"Good," Napoleon said. "The only remaining problem is to find out which way north is."

McNulty pointed to a compass mounted near the helm. "Turn the OTSMID off long enough for this to operate and we can get a heading. It's a little unhandy, but we didn't have time to get an inertial guidance system to install."