_I in the dark, the memory of towers and and of
fire in my mind. I put up my hand, a garment. Had I but
dreamed...? I stirred. Light in a above my face.
Through I saw a room, a chamber, dusty, littered
with ill-assorted rubbish. In a there was a window. I to it,
stared out upon a green sward, a path that to a white
strand. It was a scene, and yet----_
_A of over me, faded. I blinked, to remember._
_I up, something over my head. I it off and
it to the with a clatter: a broad-spectrum briefing
device, of the type used to citizens who had
undergone a Change unprepared...._
Suddenly, like water a drain, the picture in my mind
faded, left me in my old familiar room, with a in
my and a in my temples. I had been about to try the briefing
gimmick, and had if it would work. It had--with a vengeance.
For a minute there I had around the room like a stranger,
yearning for dear old Vallon. I the feeling--but it was
gone now. I was just me, in trouble as usual.
There were a of ideas around in my mind,
right at the of consciousness. Later I'd have to and go
over them carefully. Right now, I had my hands full. Two had
me cornered, and all the to the opposition. That part
was okay; I didn't want to anybody. All I wanted out of this
situation was me.
A of me to the window in a jump. It
was the same view as a moments before, but it more sense
now. There was the still of the PT boat, in
ten of water a yards from the end of the jetty. Somebody
must have to make a for it. The Russian was in
sight; it had the men and out of from
any quarter. Two or three in view, by the
water's edge. From where I I couldn't say they were good
guys or villains.
There were more shots, from off to the left. It looked
like the boys were it out old style: hand to hand, with small
arms. It figured; after all, what they wanted was me and all my clever
ideas intact, not a ruin.
I don't know it was my or my one that
had me drive the nuts passages in the
walls of my and under the lawn, but I was now I
had them. There was a narrow door in the west of the strong-room
that gave onto a tight stair. From there I take my choice:
the boathouse, the of the the house, or the beach a
hundred yards north of the jetty. All I had to do was----
The house a second ahead of a blast that
slammed me to the floor. I blood start from my nose. Head ringing,
I to my feet, through the to my hatch.
Somebody was impatient. It wouldn't do to have my fancy
getaway in I had used it. I another hit
the house: mortars, I guessed, or rockets. I must have slept through
the and just in time for the main bout.
My were on the pressure that the
concealed door. I took a last around the room, where the
dust was just settling from the last blast. My on a plain
pewter-colored where I had it an hour before--but
now I what it was. In one jump I was across the room and had
grabbed it up. I it the when I
tidied up; it had among the of the man with
the bear-tooth necklace. He must have come across it, its
pretty colors, and it away in his pants. And now I, with
my Vallonian memories in my mind, just how
precious an object it was. It was Foster's memory. It would be only a
copy, undoubtedly; still, I couldn't it behind.
A blast than the last one the house; a big of
plaster fell. It was way past time to go. Snorting and from
the dust, I got to the door, through it, and
started down.
At the I paused to think it over, and the earth jumped again.
I back, saw the of the beach collapse. That left
the and the boathouse. I didn't have much time to decide; the
tunnels might go any second. Apparently my had economized
on the shorings. But then, he hadn't on any major wars
happening in the yard.
The was going on, as near as I judge, to the south of the
house and it. Probably the were full of skirmishers,
taking of the cover. The best was the boathouse, direct.
I'd have to wait until dark, but the idea didn't seem
practical under the circumstances. I took a and started
into the tunnel. With a little luck I'd my intact. I would
have to out under the of the combatants, but maybe the
element of would give me a hundred yards' start. I had
enough to anything to the mainland--if I make
a clean break.
The was dark but that didn't me. It ran straight
to the boathouse. I came to the door and for a
moment, listening; was quiet. I it open and stepped
on to the the building. In the and
chrome-work highlights. I circled, the mooring
rope, and was about to step into the when I the of
a home. I whirled, myself flat. The _bam!_
of a .30 at close a pattern of ripples
on the black water. I rolled, with a that a second
shot, and deep. Three took me under the door, out into the
green of open water. I the of the bottom,
angled off to the right, and going.
I had to out of my jacket, and somehow I managed it, almost without
losing a stroke. And there all the I'd away in
the pockets, to the of the drink. I still had Foster's
memory-trace; it was in my and there wasn't time to out of
them to off my tennis shoes. Ten strokes, fifteen, twenty. I
knew my limit: twenty-five good on a full of air; but I
had in a hurry....
Twenty-five ... and another ... and one more. And up above a man was
waiting, aimed, for my to the surface.
Thirty strokes, and here I come, or not. I rolled on my back, got
my above the surface. I got a of fresh air the
shot into my and off across the water. I sank
like a stone, off, and another twenty-five yards I
had to come up. The was this time. The crossed
my like a iron, and I was under water again. My kick-work
was weak now; the was from my arms fast. I had to
have air--but I almost the solid of a steel-jacketed
bullet against my skull. I had to keep going. My was on fire and
there was a all around me. I consciousness
fading, but maybe just one more stroke....
* * * * *
_As from a I the of the swimmer,
watched the of the poor, creature...._
_It was that an of the was required.
With I area omicron, re-routed the blood
supply, an from fats, the
necessary energy to the bonds._
_Now, with the on sources, for six hundred
seconds at maximum demand, I and mu. I
channeled full survival-level energy to the involved,
increased power to full tolerance, waste
motion._
_The through the water with the of a
sea-denizen...._
* * * * *
I on my back, in great of air and
blinking at the sky. I had been under water, a yards from
shore, drowning. Then there was an awareness, like a voice, telling me
what to do. From out of the of Vallionan knowledge I had acquired,
I had what I needed. And now I was here, a mile from the
beach, but intact. But there was no time now to wonder at
miracles....
I my and toward the house. A of rose
from a where the used to be. A man jumped
up, across the lawn, fell. I a a later,
floating across the still water. There was no visible
activity at the water's edge; the was gone. He probably
thought he'd me, if he had noticed blood in the
water.
I about sharks. I hadn't of any in this neighborhood, but
a little blood was just the thing to them in. I twisted, got a
look at the across my left where the rifleman's
bullet had grazed; it was nothing much, just a skin gouge. It didn't
seem to be bleeding. If it had been, there wasn't much I do about
it. It was no time for worrying. I had to keep my mind on the problem
of to the mainland. It was a fifteen-mile swim, but if the boys
on keep each other occupied, I ought to be able to make
it. I again about off my and shoes but decided
against it; I'd be in shape without them--if I it.
I beat: as though I hadn't all day--which wasn't too
strange, I hadn't. Well, at least I wouldn't cramps
while the island. From there I'd out for shore. And the
first thing I would do when I got out of this would be to order the
biggest, in South America.
I took a last look toward the house. I see fire it now. I
guessed each was the as to the
enemy. It had been a place and I'd miss it. Some day somebody was
going to pay for it.
