20 Million Miles to Earth by Henry Slesar

Author:Henry Slesar
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-01-02T16:00:00+00:00

“I don’t like it much myself, Commissario,” the Colonel drawled. “But I don’t think we have any choice in the matter. We have to hunt the creature down, no matter how long it takes.”

Marisa appeared at the door of the trailer. She came forward to the Colonel’s side, but he ignored her.

“Colonel!”

“Yes?”

She looked at Calder and clucked her tongue as if he were a disobedient child.

“I hate to intrude on your precious private thoughts. But I’d like to change the bandages on your arm.”

He looked down at it, as if seeing the freshly-opened wound for the first time.

“I guess you’re right.”

“Thanks for the compliment. Come inside the trailer; I have bandages and tape.”

He followed her with some reluctance, his head turning in the direction of the escaped creature. Once inside, he sat wearily at the table as the girl went to work with efficient fingers, cutting away the soiled bandage with a scissors.

Her annoyance faded as she wound the fresh cloth around his arm. Her expression became contrite.

“You’re worried about what happened—about where the creature’s gone.”

“We’ll find him,” Calder said. “We’ve got to.”

“I feel partly responsible for the whole thing. If we knew what we had our hands on, we would have taken greater precautions. But grandfather always takes the academic approach to things.”

“It’s not your fault, or Dr. Leonardo’s. You couldn’t have known what the creature was. Even I wouldn’t have guessed that it could grow so rapidly.” He sighed in chagrin and exhaustion.

“I guess I haven’t been very considerate,” Marisa said. “I know you’ve got a lot on your mind; I shouldn’t have expected you to be overly polite.”

His face softened.

“If that’s an apology, I think it went in the wrong direction. All you’ve done is try to help, and all I’ve done is snarl at you. That’s one of my problems, bullheadedness, temper, whatever you call it. I got the official opinion on that from Uncle Sam.”

“I don’t understand it.”

“Skip it.” He smiled and touched her hand. “But when all this is over, maybe you’ll let me make a formal apology.

Over a table for two in a dark cafe—”

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