Sleepers Of Mars
- Автор: Уиндем Джон Паркс Лукас Бейнон Харрис
- Год: 1977
- Язык: английский
- Год: Coronet Books/Hodder & Stoughton Ltd
- ISBN: 0340173262
- Жанр: Научная фантастика
Электронная книга - «Sleepers Of Mars». Краткое содержание книги:
Of course, we are now well used to the idea of Man On The Moon, we have become blasé as to the possibilities of inter-planetary travel. But imagine two expeditions to Mars, one British, the other Russian, both in the process of discovering a mechanical race, invented and produced by the Martians as they believe their specie to be dying.
The other four novellas in this collection give further evidence of John Wyndham’s genius at invention, characterisation and sense of movement.
They faced a square storeroom. The walls were lined with deep shelves and rows of lockers, save for a space in the middle of the right-hand wall, where both shelves and the partition behind them had fallen away to reveal a dark aperture. The light from the two small portholes was uncertain, but it seemed to David that the edges of the dark gap bulged and bent even as he looked at them. Away in the left-hand corner crouched Toby, his eyes fastened on the dark hole.
‘What–?’ David began stepping into the room.
‘Stop!’ Toby switched his gun on him. ‘Don’t come a step nearer—there’s something nasty loose about here.’ The pair noticed that their arrival had taken the note of panic from his voice, but for all that, his manner was tense.
‘But-’
‘For God’s sake, do what I tell you! Now stand back and hold that door open—and clear right out of the way. I’ve got to jump.’
David obeyed, wonderingly. There seemed no sane reason why Toby should want to jump. Puzzled, he watched the other kick off his shoes and throw down his jacket. He tossed his pistol across, and crouched tensely. Both of his friends knew him to be the possessor of no mean muscles, but the power of his standing jump amazed even them. Toby launched himself in a magnificent leap which would have done credit to an acrobat. It was superb; but it was not enough.
In mid-air, he was suddenly checked. The others gave an astonished cry. Toby had struck something—an invisible something which stood between them. For a second, he seemed to hang in the emptiness, scrambling madly with legs and arms; then he began to slip, first slowly, and then more rapidly, for all the world as if he slid down a curved surface to the floor.
David and Dirk stared in stupefaction as the other struggled and fought, with wildly threshing limbs, against something unseen. David broke the spell, and took a step forward, but Toby noticed the move.
‘No, no! Go away !’ he shouted. ‘I’m done. I–’
His voice broke into a scream of agony, and his body slumped inertly. Halfway up one thigh, a deep line appeared; then, as though severed by an axe, the leg came away with a jerk. But it did not fall; instead it started to drift slowly across the room. With incredulous horror, they saw that the limb was unsupported. It travelled some nine inches above the ground, creeping with a steady, unswerving motion towards the break in the wall. Foot first, it edged inch by inch out of the room, into the darkness beyond.
David’s senses were reeling. He felt Dirk’s grip on his arm, and tried to speak, but his mouth was queerly dry. He forced his eyes back to the fallen Toby, and caught a sudden breath. An arm, like the leg, was being detached: there was the same sharp indentation, but still no visible agent. As the arm jerked free, he saw that the denuded shoulder was scored by deep grooves.
He sprang back, pulling Dirk with him. Both knew that Toby was past all help, and in a wordless panic, they clattered and slid down the sloping corridor to seek safety in the open.
CHAPTER TWO
PREY OF THE UNSEEN
A five-mile dash in the car brought them to the townlet of Clidoe. In the police station, they poured out a confused statement to a stolid and unsympathetic sergeant. There was reproving suspicion in the glance with which he favoured them.
An excited entrance coupled with rambling incoherence was, in his experience, frequently to be associated with excess of alcohol. Accordingly, he hid his likeable, though not very brilliant, self behind a stern and chastening stare.
‘Just who are you, and what are you doing?’ he demanded. David gave their names, and explained. The sergeant approached and scrutinised them more closely. They were excited, but he had to admit that they showed none of the signs of intoxication. Furthermore, the time was barely eleven o’clock.
‘Well,’ he said, returning to his desk and picking up a pen, ‘suppose you tell it to me all over again, but slowly this time.’ Evidently the alcoholic theory was merely shelved, for his tone was not encouraging. David pulled himself together, and with occasional promptings from Dirk, recounted the affair in orderly detail. The sergeant listened throughout with an air of defensive reserve, more than tinged with disbelief. At the end of the recital, he said:
‘I’ve had a report that a ship went over at an excessive speed, some hours ago. What did you call her?’
‘The Hurakan.’ David spelt out the name. ‘You know—the one they sent to Venus.’
The sergeant grunted. ‘Now, just what was this—er—assailant like?’
‘That’s just what I’ve been telling you. It wasn’t like anything. You couldn’t see it.’
‘It was too dark in the ship?’
‘No, I tell you, it was invisible.’
‘Invisible, eh? And yet it killed a man?’ His voice was a trifle weary. ‘What’s this you’re trying—a hoax?’ he demanded, with a sudden change of tone.
He watched them keenly while they both protested vehemently. He had no longer any doubt that the men had received a shock, but this yarn was pretty much like spook stuff…. He pulled one ear reflectively and frowned. The matter would have to be cleared up.
‘Rankin,’ he called over to a constable, ‘you’ve heard these men’s story. Get along, now, and check up on it.’
‘Yes, sir.’ The constable saluted, and turned to go.
‘I’ll show you the way,’ David suggested.
‘No, can’t allow that,’ the sergeant said firmly. There was something queer behind this. At any rate, one man was dead, and he was taking no chances. ‘I’ll have to ask you to stay here until Constable Rankin makes his report.’
‘But you don’t realise! This thing, whatever it is, is dangerous, damned dangerous. We could show-’
‘No. If it’s serious, I’m going to hold you—if it’s a joke, you’re going to pay.’
The two gazed helplessly at each other. Dirk shrugged his shoulders.
‘Oh, all right.’ David subsided on a hard bench and gazed moodily at a framed card of police regulations. ‘But don’t blame me for anything that may happen,’ he added. ‘I’ve warned you.’
Constable Rankin strode unemotionally out of the station, and they heard him start up a motor-cycle. The sergeant began to make laborious notes with a scratchy pen.
Three hours later, at almost two o’clock, the sergeant began to look worried. There had been ample time for a ten-mile ride and a cursory examination. He began to feel misgiving, sharpening into definite apprehension. He plied the two men with a fresh batch of questions, and the answers did little to relieve his mind. Neither David nor Dirk had any doubt as to the reason for Constable Rankin’s prolonged absence, and they said as much. The thought of the man calmly walking to such a death stirred a queasiness in their stomachs.
‘We’ll give him another half-hour. If he’s not back by then, we’ll go and have a look,’ the sergeant said, uneasily.
It was after three when they arrived, reinforced by two constables, at the spot where they must leave the car. David led the silent party through the trees. The two reserve policemen strode forward with puzzled stolidity, while the sergeant wore a worried look which showed that his disbelief had weakened. As they came within sight of the fallen ship, he drew a whistling breath.
‘Lord, what a ship—and what a crash! ’ he murmured. His attitude to the others underwent a subtle change as he asked: ‘Now, at which break did you enter?’
David pointed to the gap near the bows. ‘Through there,’ he said; ‘and we began working back to the stern. The storeroom must have been about amidships.’ He felt a little sick at his memory of that room. The sergeant nodded.