[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

is to get through into Hardoon's pyramid."
One by one they entered the communicating tunnel, now in total darkness,
guiding themselves along the walls. These were tilting, as if the tunnel were
being twisted longitudinally. Water accumulated along the left-hand side, more
than three inches deep.
Tremendous faults had opened in the surrounding gravel bed, as the underground
spring carried away enormous quantities of earth, leaving the massive bunkers
suspended without support.
They reached the far end of the tunnel, made their way up a short stairway to
the elevator shaft serving Hardoon's suite.
Lanyon turned to Waring. "Bill, you stay down here with Pat, while Maitland
and I see if we can reach Hardoon."
He pulled back the cage of the elevator, made room inside for Maitland. He
wiped his face with his sleeve, spitting out an oily phlegm that choked his
sinuses, then pressed the tab marked
"Roof."
Halfway up to the top the elevator suddenly swung back, lodged momentarily in
its housings, banging against the rear wall of the shaft.
Lanyon stabbed the roof button again. "Dammit, felt as if the whole place was
moving," he commented to Maitland.
"Impossible," Maitland said. "A five-hundred-mile-an-hour gale would never
shift this weight of concrete. Must have been some air driving up the shaft."
The elevator creaked upward and finally stopped. Maitland pulled back the
grille, found that the upper doors were open. They stepped out into the
deserted hallway, where a light still shone over the reception desk in the
corner.
Page 85
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
As they neared the doors of Hardoon's office they heard the sound of the wind
battering against the panels, and for a moment Maitland wondered whether the
observation window in Hardoon's suite had been breached. Then he realized that
the wooden doors in front of them would have been ripped off their hinges in a
fraction of a second.
file:///F|/rah/J.%20G.%20Ballard/Ballard,%20J%20G%20-%20The%20Wind%20From%20No
where.txt (64 of 68) [5/21/03 2:23:18 AM]
file:///F|/rah/J.%20G.%20Ballard/Ballard,%20J%20G%20-%20The%20Wind%20From%20No
where.txt
Lanyon nodded to him and they plunged through.
Inside the room the noise of the wind roared insanely in their ears, louder
than they had ever heard it. Unbroken and apparently at the heart of the
maelstrom itself, it reverberated off the walls and ceiling like the wave
front of some gigantic explosion. The force of the blast stunned the two men,
and they stood uncertainly on the threshold, peering around for its source.
The room was in darkness, the sole illumination streaming in from the
observation window.
Standing in front of it, his face only a foot from the glass, was Hardoon, the
flickering field of light playing across his granitic features like the flames
of some cosmic hell. So completely involved was he with the wind that Maitland
hesitated before stepping forward, as much held back by the intangible power
of Hardoon's presence as by the sounds of the hurricane battering at the
window.
Suddenly a second taller figure detached itself quickly from the darkness
behind Hardoon, bent across the desk and pressed a button on the control
panel.
Immediately the sounds dimmed and fell away, and the ceiling lights came on
overhead.
Hardoon looked over his shoulder in surprise. He pulled himself out of his
reverie, and gestured impatiently at Kroll, who was covering Maitland and
Lanyon with his .45.
Maitland called out: "Hardoon! Listen, for God's sake! The bunkers are
flooding, the foundations are caving in!"
Hardoon stared at him sightlessly, apparently unaware of Maitland's identity.
His eyes focussed uncertainly on the wall behind Maitland's head. Then he
motioned again to Kroll with a snap of his fingers and turned back to the
window.
"Hardoon!" Maitland shouted. He and Lanyon began to move forward, but Kroll
leaped quickly around the desk, the large automatic holding them off.
"Turn around, both of you!" he snapped, pushing Maitland back with a heavy
fist. They sidestepped out into the hall, and Kroll closed the doors behind
him. Flicking the barrel of the gun, he steered them into the elevator, then
stood two yards away from them, left hand on the control switch, ready to
close the doors, his right leveling the gun, first at Lanyon and then at
Maitland.
"Kroll!" Maitland shouted. "The shelters are collapsing! Four hundred men are
trapped in there. You've got to get them across here.
Kroll nodded coldly, his mouth tight, his eyes like black chisels under the
visor of his helmet. He raised the barrel at Maitland's head, his jaw muscles
tensing, bunching the skin into hard knots.
As his finger squeezed the trigger, Maitland dropped quickly to his knees,
trying to avoid the bullet. He looked up, saw Kroll grunt and train the gun on
him again. Lanyon had backed up against the side of the car, stabbed
frantically at the control buttons.
Waiting for the bullet to crash into his skull, Maitland lowered his head.
Suddenly, without warning, the floor tipped sharply, knocking him against the
side of the elevator. As he straightened himself he heard the roar out, felt
the bullet slam past his head into the leather padding, ripping a three-inch
Page 86
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
slash across it. Flung off his feet, Kroll lost his balance and tripped across
the small table by the reception desk.
As he picked himself up, swearing in a low snarl, Maitland dived forward at
the automatic held loosely in his hand. Above their heads the lights swung
eerily, and the floor remained tilted at a slight angle. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]