Bob Shaw The Two timers (epub)

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.An edge of the black cloth across her upturned face alternately clung and fluttered, like the breathing apparatus of a marine animal."What is it?" Breton asked the question reluctantly, not wishing to show too much interest, but aware that this was something new to the writing sessions.Miriam sat up uncertainly as he spoke, and Gordon Palfrey put an arm around her shoulders."I don't know," Kate said, rotating the sheet in her long-fingered hands."This is.it's a poem."Well, let's hear it." Breton spoke with a tolerant joviality, annoyed at letting himself be sucked in, yet impressed by the sheer manual dexterity Miriam had shown.Kate cleared her throat and read:"I have wished for you a thousand nights, While the green-glow hour-hand slowly veers.I could weep for the very need of you, But you wouldn't taste my tears."Breton found the lines vaguely disturbing, for no reason he could name.He went back to the cocktail cabinet and, while the others examined the fragment of poetry, stood frowning down into the mirrored array of bottles and glasses.Sipping the tingling ice-warmth of his drink, he stared back at his own eyes in the crystal microcosm; then -- quite suddenly -- his mind plumbed the possible significance of the phase "almost exactly nine years." That was the real kicker in the call he had received, if he guessed right; it was a psychological depth charge, perfectly aimed, fused to sink deep.It had been nine years earlier, to the month, that a police cruiser had found Kate wandering in the darkness of 50th Avenue, with flecks of human brain tissue spattered across her face.Breton stiffened with shock as the phone shrilled in the hall.He set his glass down with a sharp double click, left the room and picked up the phone."Breton here," he snapped."Who's that?""Hello, John.What's the matter?" This time the voice was immediately identifiable as that of Carl Tougher."Carl!" Breton sank onto a chair, and groped for his cigarettes."Did you call me earlier? Within the last half hour?""No -- I've been too busy.""You're sure?""What is this, John? I told you I've been too busy -- we're in serious trouble over the Silverstream survey.""It doesn't check out?""That's right.I made a series of eight random readings in our designated area this morning, and checked with a different gravimeter after lunch.As far as I can tell at this point the initial survey we made last month is completely haywire.The new readings are roughly twenty milligals down on what they should be.""Twenty! But that would suggest a much lighter rock formation than we thought.It could mean something like -- ""Salt," Tougher cut in."Could you interest the client in a salt mine in place of a cement works?"Breton put a cigarette into his mouth and lit it, wondering why the world had chosen this particular evening to begin drifting out of focus."Listen, Carl.We can make two interpretations of these discrepancies.The first is the one you've already mentioned -- that the limestone we know to lie under that site has changed overnight into salt -- and, with your support, I'm ruling that one out right now.The other is that somehow both our gravimeters are out of adjustment -- right?""I guess so," Tougher said wearily."So we rent a couple of new instruments tomorrow and go over the ground again.""I thought you'd say that.Do you know how many miles I covered today, John? I feel like I've walked clear across the state of Montana.""I'll go with you next time," Breton replied."I need the exercise.See you in the morning, Carl.""Yeah, see you.Oh, John -- you left out the third possible explanation.""Which is.?""That the force of gravity has lessened since yesterday.""Get some rest, Carl -- even your jokes are getting tired." Breton set the phone down and smiled in appreciation of the way in which the little geologist never got depressed or rattled.A telephone crank who picked on Tougher would have ricocheted off a massive shield of sane practicability -- yet in this case Tougher was the only suspect Breton had had.His jokes were usually on the locker room level, but there was the time a couple of years earlier when Tougher had spent something like fifteen dollars of his own money in bringing a can of gasoline to work every day and sneaking it into the office janitor's car.Later Tougher had explained, matter-of-factly, that he had wanted to study the janitor's reactions when he discovered his car was apparently manufacturing gas instead of using it up.Was that particular hoax on a par with "You have been living with my wife for almost exactly nine years"? Breton was uncertain.He went back along the mustard carpeted hall, automatically touching the wall with his knuckles at every step to prevent any build-up of static in the dry air.Kate kept her eyes averted as he entered the room, and Breton felt a slight pang of guilt over his earlier sarcasm."That was Carl," he volunteered."He's been working late."She nodded disinterestedly, and his guilt instantaneously transformed itself into resentment -- not even in the presence of friends would she pretend to care anything about the business.That's the way, Kate, he thought furiously, never ease up for a second.Live well off me, but at the same time reserve the right to despise my work and everybody connected with it.Breton stared somberly at his wife and the Palfreys, who were now going back through all the material Miriam had produced, and suddenly realized he was beginning to sway slightly.He retrieved his drink, finished it with one gulp and poured another.I keep on taking this sort of treatment -- the old, familiar and repetitious anger patterns began to flow redly on the surface of his mind -- but how much is a man supposed to take? I have a wife who complains night and day because I spend too much time at the office, but when I do take an evening off -- this is what I get.Phony spiritualists and another king-sized dose of her damned, stinking indifference.To think I wept -- yes sir, actually wept with relief -- because she was safe that night they found her with Spiedel's brains scattered through her hair.I didn't know it then, but Spiedel was trying to do me a favor.I know it now, though.If only I could.Breton chopped the thought off in alarm as he realized he was setting himself up for a trip.But he was too late [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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