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The Stars My Destination ( Tiger! Tiger! ) :: Bester Alfred
Страница: 51 из 164Foyle battered at the walls of the labyrinth with the sledge, shattered the thin plastic masking, and found himself in theinfrared-lit south corridor of the women's quadrant.
Two women guards came up the corridor, running hard. Foyle swung the sledge and dropped them. He was near the head of the corridor. Before him stretched a long perspective of cell doors, each bearing a glowing red number. Overhead the corridor was lit by glowing red globes. Foyle stood on tiptoe and clubbed the globe above him. He hammered through the socket and smashed the current cable. The entire corridor went dark . . . even to goggles.
«Evens us up; all in the dark now,» Foyle gasped and tore down the corridor feeling the wall as he ran and counting cell doors. Jisbella had given him an accurate word picture of the South Quadrant. He was counting his way toward South-9oo. He blundered into a figure, another guard. Foyle hacked at her once with his sledge. She shrieked and fell. The women patients began shrieking. Foyle lost count, ran on, stopped.
«Jiz!» he bellowed.
He heard her voice. He encountered another guard, disposed of her, ran, located Jisbella's cell.
«Gully, for God's sake. . .» Her voice was muffled.
«Get back, girl. Back.» He hammered thrice against the door with his sledge and it burst inward. He staggered in and fell against a figure.
«Jiz?» he gasped. «Excuse me. . . Was passing by. Though I'd drop in.»
«Gully, in the name of…”
«Yeah. Hell of a way to meet, eh? Come on. Out, girl. Out!» He dragged her out of the cell. «We can't try a break through the offices. They don't like me back there. Which way to your Sanitation pens?»
«Gully, you're crazy.»
«Whole quadrant's dark. I smashed the power cable. We've got half a chance. Go, girl. Go.»
He gave her a powerful thrust and she led him down the passages to the automatic stalls of the women's Sanitation pens. While mechanical hands removed their uniforms, soaped, soaked, sprayed and disinfected them, Foyle felt for the glass pane of the medical observation window. He found it, swung the sledge and smashed it.
«Get in, Jiz.»
He hurled her through the window and followed. They were both stripped, greasy with soap, slashed and bleeding. Foyle slipped and crashed through the blackness searching for the door through which the medical officers entered.
«Can't find the door, Jiz. Door from the clinic. I…”
«But…”
«Be quiet, Gully.»
A soapy hand found his mouth and clamped over it. She gripped his shoulder so hard that her fingernails pierced his skin.
Two women guards came up the corridor, running hard. Foyle swung the sledge and dropped them. He was near the head of the corridor. Before him stretched a long perspective of cell doors, each bearing a glowing red number. Overhead the corridor was lit by glowing red globes. Foyle stood on tiptoe and clubbed the globe above him. He hammered through the socket and smashed the current cable. The entire corridor went dark . . . even to goggles.
«Evens us up; all in the dark now,» Foyle gasped and tore down the corridor feeling the wall as he ran and counting cell doors. Jisbella had given him an accurate word picture of the South Quadrant. He was counting his way toward South-9oo. He blundered into a figure, another guard. Foyle hacked at her once with his sledge. She shrieked and fell. The women patients began shrieking. Foyle lost count, ran on, stopped.
«Jiz!» he bellowed.
He heard her voice. He encountered another guard, disposed of her, ran, located Jisbella's cell.
«Gully, for God's sake. . .» Her voice was muffled.
«Get back, girl. Back.» He hammered thrice against the door with his sledge and it burst inward. He staggered in and fell against a figure.
«Jiz?» he gasped. «Excuse me. . . Was passing by. Though I'd drop in.»
«Gully, in the name of…”
«Yeah. Hell of a way to meet, eh? Come on. Out, girl. Out!» He dragged her out of the cell. «We can't try a break through the offices. They don't like me back there. Which way to your Sanitation pens?»
«Gully, you're crazy.»
«Whole quadrant's dark. I smashed the power cable. We've got half a chance. Go, girl. Go.»
He gave her a powerful thrust and she led him down the passages to the automatic stalls of the women's Sanitation pens. While mechanical hands removed their uniforms, soaped, soaked, sprayed and disinfected them, Foyle felt for the glass pane of the medical observation window. He found it, swung the sledge and smashed it.
«Get in, Jiz.»
He hurled her through the window and followed. They were both stripped, greasy with soap, slashed and bleeding. Foyle slipped and crashed through the blackness searching for the door through which the medical officers entered.
«Can't find the door, Jiz. Door from the clinic. I…”
«But…”
«Be quiet, Gully.»
A soapy hand found his mouth and clamped over it. She gripped his shoulder so hard that her fingernails pierced his skin.