thedestroyer.deathcheck-第14部分

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　〃You　want　to　jump　with　me？；〃　said　the　American；　turning。　
　Geoffrey　Hawkins　pushed　again　and　this　time　he　was　successful。　Too　successful。　He　found　his　own　energy；　with　an　assist　from　the　American；　had　hurtled　him　head　first　toward　the　wing　struts　outside；　and　then　he　was　outside　the　plane；　dropping　through　the　chill　cold　wind；　with　the　American　firmly　latched　to　his　throat。
　They　accelerated　quickly；　then　hit　top　speed　and　they　were　free　falling。　The　American　was　smiling　and　humming　Yankee　Doodle。
　Geoffrey　attempted　to　kick　him　away。　The　5；000　was　as　good　as　his。　But　the　kick　went　nowhere。　As　a　matter　of　fact；　the　right　leg　went　out；　and　then　became　numb。　The　American's　hands　seemed　to　float；　then　dart；　then　plunge　forward　and　back。　And　for　all　Geoffrey　Hawkins'　effort；　he　could　not　unlatch　the　colonial　who　just　smiled　and　hummed　and　moved　his　hands　in　those　extraordinary　ways。　Geoffrey　attempted　to　use　a　karate　chop　against　the　bridge　of　the　American's　nose。
　But　as　his　hand　started　to　move；　it　became　numb；　and　then。。。。　Ye　gads。　The　left　rider　to　the　chute　was　slipping　off　the　useless　left　hand。　Then　the　American　worked　at　the　main　buckle　on　the　chest　strap　and　it　was　off；　and　Geoffrey　was　suddenly　spinning　around　and　facing　away　from　the　American。　Then　the　other　strap　to　the　right　rider　was　eased　off　a　suddenly　numb　right　arm；　and　only　his　legs　remained　strapped　into　the　unopened　chute。　And　then　Geoffrey　was　spinning　again；　this　time　face　forward　and　he　felt　the　chute　yank　up　between　his　legs　and　he　was　diving　head　first　towards　the　ground；　without　his　parachute　or　the　use　of　his　limbs。　He　attempted　to　flip　over；　but　there　was　just　the　slightest　slap　on　his　back　and　he　remained；　going　face　down；　floating　down。
　Gads！　He　had　no　parachute。　He　was　stripped　of　his　chute。　Then　he　felt　himself　being　flipped　up　and　there　was　the　American　face…to…face　with　him　as　they　descended。　He　was　snapping　on　the　buckle　over　the　chest。　He　was　wearing　Geoffrey's　parachute。　He　was　smiling　and　still　humming。
　Geoffrey　saw　a　khaki　bundle　thrust　toward　him。　It　was　the　American's　faulty　chute。　Then　the　American　shouted：　〃That's　the　biz；　sweetheart。　Remember　me　to　Henry　the　Eighth。〃
　Red　and　white　material　sprung　out　and　up　from　the　American's　back；　and　then　snapped　into　a　ballooning　canopy　of　an　open　chute。　The　American　seemed　to　rise　and　then　bee　farther　and　farther　away　as　he　swung　from　the　riders　in　gentle　descent。
　Geoffrey　Hawkins；　late　of　Her　Majesty's　Royal　Marines；　arrived　at　the　lush　Virginia　countryside　at　approximately　the　same　moment　as　the　faulty　parachute。　The　chute　bounced　with　a　whoomph　and　was　usable　again。
　Geoffrey　Hawkins　didn't。　And　wasn't。
　By　the　time　Remo　landed；　Doctor　Hirshbloom　had　gone。
　
　CHAPTER　SIXTEEN
　
　Brewster　Forum　had　supplied　Remo　with　a　room　in　a　two…story　house；　centrally　located　in　the　forum's　laboratory　plex　and　just　as　centrally　out　of　sight　of　any　of　the　private　homes。　It　was　called　the　workers'　house。
　〃If　you　get　lost；　just　ask　for　the　workers'　house；〃　said　the　superintendent　of　the　gymnasium。
　〃You　mean　we　live　here。〃
　〃Not　we。　I'm　a　superintendent。　I　have　a　home。　The　lower…level　work　force　uses　the　workers'　house。　The　cleaning　women；　drivers；　cleanup　men；　security　officer。〃
　〃Okay；〃　Remo　had　said；　〃this　will　be　fine。〃　His　room　allowed　him　to　dress　standing　up　if　he　stood　on　the　bed；　and　if　he　chose；　jump　right　from　the　shower　to　his　sheets。　He　could　also　use　the　two　top　drawers　of　the　dresser；　the　bottom　ones　being　wedged　shut　by　the　box　springs　of　the　mattress。
　It　was　not　really　that　the　room　was　so　small；　but　that　the　bed　was　so　big。　It　had　been　a　discard　from　one　of　the　private　homes　and　like　all　the　furniture　hi　the　workers'　house；　was　not　designed　for　its　room。　Remo　could　do　a　somersault　on　the　mattress；　which　he　judged　would　cover　three　ordinary　beds。
　〃That　mattress　alone…cost　1400；〃　one　of　the　maids　confided　to　him。　〃We're　always　getting　furniture　and　stuff　the　people　don't　want。　It's　real　good　stuff；　only　sometimes　it　looks　kind　of　funny。〃
　Naturally　Remo　could　not　do　his　more　exotic　exercises　in　the　Forum　gymnasium；　assuming　that　the　continued　sustaining　of　peak　had　not　drained　his　abilities　too　much　to　do　them　at　all。
　But　he　could　always　exercise　in　the　bed　on　his　back；　which　might　be　enough。　He　stared　at　the　ceiling　and　set　his　mind　on　a　long　road　that　had　wound　around　the　inside　of　the　walls　at　Folcroft　Sanitarium　where　he　had　received　his　first　training。　He　mentally　stepped　out　onto　the　black　gravel　path　and　felt　the　wetness　of　the　air　ing　in　off　Long　Island　Sound　and　smelled　the　stale　after…odor　of　the　burnings　of　yesterday's　leaves　and　he　was　off。　Five　quick　miles　today。
　Looking　at　Remo　in　the　bed　at　Brewster　Forum；　one　would　see　only　the　leg　muscles　twitching　and　the　chest　moving　regularly　with　the　heavy　breathing。　In　fact；　it　was　the　breathing　that　made　the　run　worthwhile；　and　when　he　approached　the　last　lap　he　began　to　sprint；　pressing　his　deadened　legs；　gasping　for　breath　and　pushing；　pushing；　pushing。　He　had　always　been　able　to　do　the　last　lap　with　speed。　But　this　morning　the　legs　were　just　not　there　and　the　energy　needed　for　the　sprint　couldn't　be　called　up。　He　did　not　allow　the　thought　that　he　might　not　be　able　to　finish　the　final　lap；　although　he　did　not　know　for　sure　how　he　could　make　it；　and　the　pain　became　unendurable。　He　had　not　had　so　much　trouble　since　he　first　began　running。
　He　never　did　find　out　if　he　could　finish。　There　was　a　knock　on　the　door　of　his　room　in　the　workers'　house　of　Brewster　Forum。　Remo　heard　it　and　not　wanting　to　open　the　door　in　an　exhausted　condition；　went　into　a　recover。　Fortunately；　he　was　in　bed；　the　process　being　a　plete　nothing。　Abandon　all　nerves；　senses　and　muscles；　drop　all　controls。　Bee　a　vegetable。　The　effect　on　the　body　was　like　an　electric　shock　in　water。　The　trick　was　to　do　everything　simultaneously；　because　the　heart　could　miss　a　beat；　and　if　the　rest　of　the　system　were　still　coursing　through　heavy　exercise；　it　might　not　pick　up　that　beat。
　But　it　did；　and　Remo；　sweat…drenched；　but　breathing　like　he　had　just　awakened　from　a　sleep；　answered　the　door。　He　knew　that　the　normal　breathing；　the　lack　of　a　heat…flushed　appearance；　would　make　the　perspiration　appear　like　water。
　The　man　in　the　door　was　late　middle…age；　but　his　face　was　fleshy　with　hard　lines；　strangely　unbroken　by　his　round　metal…framed　eyeglasses。　He　wore　a　dark　summer　suit　with　white　shirt　and　black　tie；　and　offered　a　truly　mechanical　smile；　the　non…joyous　likes　of　which　Remo　had　not　seen　since　the　last　Presidential　campaign。
　〃Excuse　me；〃　said　the　man；　with　a　polishing　of　gutturals　in　his　voice。　〃I　am　Martin　Stohrs；　your　chess　instructor。　I　did　not　realize　you　were　in　the　shower。　I　am　sorry。〃
　〃No；〃　said　Remo。　〃I　was　trying　to　unstop　the　sink。〃
　〃And　it　exploded？〃
　〃In　a　way。〃
　〃I　don't　imagine　you　can　invite　me　in？〃　He　was　looking　at　the　bed…filled　room。　
　〃More　like　a　bed　with　a　room　around　it；　no？〃
　〃Yes。〃
　〃Terrible。　Terrible。　A　man　of　your　talent　and　abilities　living　in　a　room　like　this　next　to　the　servants。〃
　　　〃It's　okay　with　me。〃
　〃Terrible。　This　should　be　outlawed。　Security　work　in　every　place　in　the　world　is　an　honored　profession　requiring　the　highest　of　abilities　and　courage　and　discipline。　And　they　put　you　here。　I　will　speak　to　Brewster　about　this。〃
　〃He　put　me　here。〃
　Stohrs　changed　the　subject。　〃I　came　to　invite　you　to　my　house　for　the　honor　of　a　game　with　you；　and　if　you　would　also　honor　me；　I　would　appreciate　your　pany　at　dinner。　I　had　mentioned　the　game　the　other　day　when　you　had　finished　with　those　motorcycle　swine；　but　you　probably　did　not　hear　me。〃
　〃Thanks　anyway；　I　have　a　date。〃
　〃So　soon？〃
　〃Well；　it's　sort　of　business。　One　of　the　staff。　Doctor　Hirshbloom。〃
　〃Ah；　Deborah。　Surprising。　She　rarely　sees　anyone。　Un　usual　when　you　consider　that　this　is　a　think　tank；　and
what　fills　the　tank　mostly　is　words　and　more　words。〃　He　seemed　charmed　by　his　joke。
　〃I'm　not　sure　what　this　is。〃
　〃Hah；　no　one　else　is　either。　I　like　you。　We　must　play。〃
　〃Thanks　again；　but　some　other　time。　I'm　on　my　way　to　see　someone　now。〃
　〃Ach。　Excuse　me；　most　assuredly。　The　invitation　is　open。〃
　Remo　thanked　him　again　and　shut　the　door。　He　dressed　in　a　pair　of　white　chinos　and　a　blue　sports　shirt。　His　two
suits　hung　in　the　bathroom；　the　closet　door　not　having　room　enough　to　open。
　Stohrs　was　waiting　downstairs。　He　was　apologetic。　He　had　not　wished　to　intrude　on　Remo　Pelham。　He　was　not　the　pushy　type　like　some　people。　He　was　not　the　pushy　type　for　the　mile　and　a　half　walk　to　the　circle　of　cottages。　He　made　that　clear　several　limes。
　〃You　see；　I　e　from　a　culture　that　appreciates　privacy；　just　as　it　appreciates　the　true　role　of　the　policeman。　You　have　violence　in　this　country　today　because　the　policeman　is　not　respected。　Order　is　not　respected。　Now；　in　my　country；　no　policeman　would　ever　be　forced　to　live　in　the　servants'　quarters　when　a　golf　instructor　lives　in　a　house。　Yes？〃
　〃Yes；　what？〃　asked　Remo；　noticing　how　the　night　came　unexpectedly　fast　for　the　summer。　Or　was　it　his　imagination；　or　even　worse；　the　losing　of　touch　with　time　and　senses　and　feeling。　He　did　a　toe　walk　so　smoothly　that　he　knew　Stohrs　did　not　notice　and　thus　reassured　himself　that　he　could　still　do　special　things　and　therefore　need　not　worry　about　his　senses。　It　was　the　night。
　〃Yes；　do　you　agree　with　me？〃
　〃Certainly；〃　Remo　said。　He　began　working　his　fingers；　in　a　dexterity　drill；　playing　speed。　You　separated　the　coordination　of　the　hands；　then　played　finger　tip　against　fingertip；　with　the　nails　of　the　hand　just　touching；　then　retreating。　Done　quickly　enough；　it　looked　like　nervous　praying。
　〃These　are　terrible　times　we　live　in。　No？〃；　〃It's　always　a　terrible　time。〃
　〃Not　always。　And　not　everywhere。〃
　〃You　could　say　that。〃
　〃You　must　like　this　place。　And　to　like　this　place　you　must　e　from　a　place　that　is　not　so　nice；　yes？〃
　〃Are　you　asking　me　where　I'm　from？〃
　〃No；　no。　Of　course　not。　I　mean　unless　you　wish　to　tell　me。〃
　〃I　don't　particularly。〃
　　　〃Good。　You　will　find　that　I　am　not　the　prying　type。　I　am　just　one　who　respects　excellence。　I　respected　your　chess　play。　Where　did　you　learn　to　play？〃
　〃From　Delphurm　Bresky；　a　lawyer　in　Jersey　City；〃　Remo　said；　making　up　a　name　he　knew　couldn't　exist。
　〃Then　you　are　from　Jersey　City。　A　wonderful　town。〃
　〃Jersey　City；　a　wonderful　town？〃
　〃Well；　it's　gone　down　since　that　wonderful　mayor　you　had。〃
　〃Who？〃
　〃Francis　Hague。〃
　〃That　bum　was　a　dictator。〃
　〃Yes。　A　terrible　man。　You　worked　long　in　Jersey　City？〃
　〃No。〃
　〃A　short　tune？〃
　〃No。〃
　〃Ah。　You　never　worked　there。　Well；　I　am　not　one　to　seek　a　person's　resume　the　first　time　I　meet　him。　Especially　not　someone　I　like　and　respect；　who　has　been　abused　by　the　powers　that　be。　I　am　here　only　to　offer　my　help。〃
　Remo　worked　the　shoulders　and　neck；　using　Stohrs　as　a　foil。　If　he　could　do　the　control　exercises　just　beneath　Stohrs'　level　of　awareness；　it　would　be　a　good　feedback　check。
　〃You　know；　there　are　some　civilizations　that　adore　men　of　violence。〃
　〃Yeah。　Most；〃　Remo　said。　〃The　others　bee　vassal　states。〃
　〃Right。　You　are　a　man　of　the　world；〃　Stohrs　said；　slapping　Remo's　back　in　joy。　It　was　unfortuna