[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

speeding up again and driving on by. But eventually he saw what he was looking
for: a man of reasonably presentable appearance, around thirty, dark-haired,
with olive features not unlike Samurai himself. He was wearing a blue parka
and woollen hat, and had a black leather carryall by his feet. The man grinned
and made a face to say it was cold out here. Samurai pulled over.
"Going as far as Semipalatinsk?"
"All the way."
"Great. Can I put this in the back?"
"Go ahead." The man heaved the carryall inside. "You might want to throw that
coat in there as well," Samurai said. "It's warm in the car."
"Good idea. I'll do that."
His name was Rudi, from a province in the central Urals. He was heading south
for the winter after working on a land drainage project farther north, which
was now frozen. He was jovial and talkative, and especially curious when he
learned that Samurai was a recently arrived American.
"Are you going back, or will you be staying here now?" he asked.
"Why shouldn't I want to go back?" Samurai said. He was preoccupied with
keeping an eye on the mirror and trying to watch the skyline behind them,
happy to let Rudi carry on doing most of the talking.
"Is it true what they say about the repression over there? All the
censorship, and everything they say on the news being distorted? A friend of
mine told me that communications equipment can only pick up approved channels,
by law. Is that right?"
Page 230
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"We don't like anybody who wants to be able to pump whatever they like into
people's minds," Samurai said shortly. "Is that so bad?"
"Well, can't the people have a say in it? They don't have to listen."
"People are like sheep. Most of them have never had a worthwhile thought in
their lives. They'll believe anything they're told."
"Maybe not, if they're allowed to learn how to think. Instead of being told
what to think."
"Look, if you must talk, why not find a different subject? I'm not
criticizing your country. Otherwise you might end up hiking it to
Semipalatinsk."
Rudi grinned unrepentantly and raised a hand in mock submission. "You're
absolutely right! How ungracious of me. You are our guest. Not another word, I
promise."
They drove on in silence for a mile or so. The road followed the base of a
line of low, rounded hills, with desolation stretching away on the opposite
side. "Do they really think we're running out of room?" Rudi said. "I mean,
look at that. And it's nothing. I read somewhere that Americans have to move
into smaller houses when their children leave home. Is that right? Do you
really need licenses to have children there?"
"Do you drive, Rudi?" Samurai asked.
"I'm doing it again, aren't I?"
"Don't worry about it."
"Sure, everyone drives. Why?"
"I've been traveling all night. I could use an hour's sleep in the back. How
would you like to take over for a spell?"
"Okay, if you trust me with it."
"Just don't talk so much, and watch the road."
They pulled over onto the shoulder and got out. The air outside was cold,
with a mild but biting wind. Rudi got into the driver's side and adjusted the
mirrors and seats. Samurai climbed in the back and settled down among his and
Page 231
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
Rudi's coats, his briefcase, Rudi's bag, and a couple of bags belong-ing to
the Americans, which had been there when Samurai took the car. As they came
back onto the roadway, he scanned the sky behind through the rear window.
There was no local air traffic now, and anything approaching would stand out
easily.
"I grew up in a place as dismal as this," Rudi said. "Sometimes it got so
waterlogged in the thaw that we went to school in a boat."
"Really?"
"Yes. . . . I heard that over there they teach children in the schools that
nobody should be different," Rudi said over his shoulder. "Is that really
true?"
* * *
It was about a half hour later when Samurai spotted what he had been
expecting: a dot flying low, following the road behind them. It gained
rapidly, swooping even lower, circled, then passed immediately overhead for a
close look as it overhauled the car. Rudi peered in his mirror and turned his
head to look up at it through the window, muttering to himself but not
bothering Samurai, who he believed was asleep. Samurai slid the automatic from
his briefcase and squeezed himself down behind the seat, covering himself with
the coats and bags to make it look as if the car had only one occupant. Then
the aircraft rose and sped away ahead of them checking that the road was free
of approach-ing traffic from that direction, Samurai had no doubt. As it
receded, he raised his head and saw that it was a rotorless hoverjet, about
the size of a six-seat -chopper.
Minutes later it was back again. Samurai didn't expect for a moment that its
occupants would simply open fire; besides its being a messy and needlessly
overdramatic way of going about things, there was always the risk that they
might have latched on to the wrong car. They would check it out first.
The machine came in close to fly just above the car, slightly back and to one
side, the noise from its turbines drowning out the car's engine. Rudi, clearly
alarmed by now, was turning his head frantically from side to side as he
drove.
"Don't look back. Just keep driving and do as I say," Samurai instructed. His
tone was harsh and authoritative suddenly, leaving no room for argument.
"What the hell's going on?" Rudi demanded. "Who are they? Look, I don't know
what "
"Shut up!"
Ahead, a wide expanse of flat, open ground lay to one side of the road,
churned up by tire marks. It looked like a rest area that trucks used. A door
in the side of the hoverjet opened, and a figure inside made pointing motions
Page 232
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
toward it. He was also holding a submachine gun.
"Slow down," Samurai ordered.
"But shit, that guy's got a gun! This doesn't have anything to do with me. I
don't want to get mixed up in it."
"You are mixed up in it, so just do as I say. Pull over and stop." Rudi did
so, and sat, shaking visibly. The flyer came down and hovered a few yards
behind him, probably checking the registration. "Now get out, leave your door
open, and move well away from the car with your hands raised," Samurai said.
"Don't look back at me!"
Rudi's voice was choking with fear. "They'll k-kill me. This hasn't got
anything to do with me."
"They might," Samurai agreed. "But I will for sure if you don't get out. Do
it." Rudi opened the door with trembling hands and got out. "Hands high. Away
from the car," Samurai repeated. Rudi raised his hands and stumbled away
dazedly. Samurai stayed low, watching motionless through the chink beside the
driver's headrest.
The flyer came down in a flurry of snow about thirty feet from the car,
facing where Rudi was standing. The engine note dropped, and two armed men
jumped out, leaving a third still in the pilot's seat. All attention was on
Rudi, standing ahead of them in the snow with his arms high. Samurai eased
himself up a fraction, his eyes moving rapidly, assessing distances and
angles. The two who had got out approached Rudi warily from different sides,
their guns leveled. Then the voice of the one who had remained in the cabin
sounded over a loudspeaker. "Don't fuck with this guy. You heard the order.
Drop him."
Very well. They had made the rules. . . .
And then one of the two on foot moved a pace closer and peered at Rudi
quizzically. "Wait. That isn't " [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]