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The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
Страница: 31 из 164Below he could see workmen in white jumpers swarming out of the pits to watch the excitement. Guards were appearing as they jaunted from distant sectors toward the focal point of the action.
«UNKNOWN MOVING SOUTH TOWARD B FOR BAKER THREE.
B FOR BAKER THREE.»
Presteign watched the B-3 pit. A figure appeared, dashing swiftly toward the pit, veering, dodging, bulling forward. It was a giant man in hospital blues with a wild thatch of black hair and a distorted face that appeared, in the distance, to be painted in livid colors. His clothes were flickering like heat lightning as the protective induction field of the defense system seared him.
«B FOR BAKER THREE ALERT. B FOR BAKER THREE CLOSE IN.»
There were shouts and a distant rattle of shots, the pneumatic whine of scope guns. Half a dozen workmen in white leaped for the intruder. He scattered them like ninepins and drove on and on toward B-3 where the nose of «Vorga» showed. He was a lightning bolt driving through workmen and guards, pivoting, bludgeoning, boring forward implacably.
Suddenly he stopped, reached inside his flaming jacket and withdrew a black cannister. With the convulsive gesture of an animal writhing in death throes, he bit the end of the cannister and hurled it, straight and true on a high arc toward «Vorga.» The next instant he was struck down.
«EXPLOSIVE. TAKE COVER. EXPLOSIVE. TAKE COVER. COVER.»
«Presteign!» Black Rod squawked.
Presteign shook him off and watched the cannister curve up and then down toward the nose of «Vorga,» spinning and glinting in the cold sunlight. At the edge of the pit it was caught by the anti-gray beam and flicked upward as by a giant invisible thumbnail. Up and up and up it whirled, one hundred, five hundred, a thousand feet. Then there was a blinding flash, and an instant later a titanic clap of thunder that smote ears and jarred teeth and bone.
Presteign picked himself up and descended the grandstand to the launching podium. He placed his finger on the launching button of the Presteign «Princess?'
«Bring me that man, if he's still alive,» he said to Black Rod. He pressed the button. «I christen thee . . . the Presteign 'Power,'» he called in triumph.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE STAR CHAMBER in Castle Presteign was an oval room with ivory panels picked out with gold, high mirrors, and stained glass windows. It contained a gold organ with robot organist by Tiffany, a gold-tooled library with android librarian on library ladder, a Louis Quinze desk with android secretary before a manual memo-bead recorder, an American bar with robot bartender.
«UNKNOWN MOVING SOUTH TOWARD B FOR BAKER THREE.
B FOR BAKER THREE.»
Presteign watched the B-3 pit. A figure appeared, dashing swiftly toward the pit, veering, dodging, bulling forward. It was a giant man in hospital blues with a wild thatch of black hair and a distorted face that appeared, in the distance, to be painted in livid colors. His clothes were flickering like heat lightning as the protective induction field of the defense system seared him.
«B FOR BAKER THREE ALERT. B FOR BAKER THREE CLOSE IN.»
There were shouts and a distant rattle of shots, the pneumatic whine of scope guns. Half a dozen workmen in white leaped for the intruder. He scattered them like ninepins and drove on and on toward B-3 where the nose of «Vorga» showed. He was a lightning bolt driving through workmen and guards, pivoting, bludgeoning, boring forward implacably.
Suddenly he stopped, reached inside his flaming jacket and withdrew a black cannister. With the convulsive gesture of an animal writhing in death throes, he bit the end of the cannister and hurled it, straight and true on a high arc toward «Vorga.» The next instant he was struck down.
«EXPLOSIVE. TAKE COVER. EXPLOSIVE. TAKE COVER. COVER.»
«Presteign!» Black Rod squawked.
Presteign shook him off and watched the cannister curve up and then down toward the nose of «Vorga,» spinning and glinting in the cold sunlight. At the edge of the pit it was caught by the anti-gray beam and flicked upward as by a giant invisible thumbnail. Up and up and up it whirled, one hundred, five hundred, a thousand feet. Then there was a blinding flash, and an instant later a titanic clap of thunder that smote ears and jarred teeth and bone.
Presteign picked himself up and descended the grandstand to the launching podium. He placed his finger on the launching button of the Presteign «Princess?'
«Bring me that man, if he's still alive,» he said to Black Rod. He pressed the button. «I christen thee . . . the Presteign 'Power,'» he called in triumph.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE STAR CHAMBER in Castle Presteign was an oval room with ivory panels picked out with gold, high mirrors, and stained glass windows. It contained a gold organ with robot organist by Tiffany, a gold-tooled library with android librarian on library ladder, a Louis Quinze desk with android secretary before a manual memo-bead recorder, an American bar with robot bartender.