Gateway to Never (John Grimes) by A Bertram Chandler

Author:A Bertram Chandler [Chandler, A Bertram]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction & Fantasy
ISBN: 9781476780474
Amazon: 1476780471
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2015-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

THERE WAS ONLY ONE THING to do, and Grimes did it. But he could not be too hasty; for him to surface right alongside the laboring ship would be out of the question. She was making slow headway against the sea, however, gradually pulling away from that small, dark figure struggling in the water. The periscope was useless in the heavy, driving rain, so the pinnace’s fantastically sensitive radar was brought into operation.

On the screen were two targets, one large and one small, and the smaller target was showing only intermittently in the clutter. The range between the two blips was opening. The commodore adjusted his speed to maintain his distance off from the larger target, steered so as to come directly beneath the smaller one. It was tricky work, but somehow he managed it. Suddenly there was a distinct shock, a continued vibration. Grimes guessed what it was. A drowning man will clutch at a straw—and a periscope standard is considerably more substantial.

Grimes started to blow his tanks, but as soon as the pinnace rose into the layer of turbulence just below the sea surface the motion was dangerously violent. He tried to correct it with the pinnace’s control surfaces, but it was impossible to do so. Hastily he turned to the inertial drive controls, switched from Ahead to Lift. The unrhythmic hammering of the engine was deafening in the confined space of the little vessel’s cabin and she went up like a rocket, lurching far over as a sea caught her, but recovering. Was the man still there? The lens of the periscope could be swivelled so that the upper hull could be inspected. This was done—and the screen showed a huddled mass of dark rags wrapped around the base of the standard.

“We have to bring him in,” said Grimes.

“By ‘we,’” said Sonya, “you imply ‘you.’” She unstrapped herself from her seat, and Mayhew followed suit.

“Be careful,” warned Grimes.

“Good and careful,” she said.

The upper hatch slid open and fresh air—cool, humid, salty—gusted in, and with it a spatter of chilly rain. But after the weeks of canned atmosphere, it was like sparkling wine after flat water. Grimes inhaled deeply and gratefully, watched Sonya clamber up the short ladder and vanish, followed by Mayhew. He heard her voice, faint but clear over the whining of the wind, the drumming of the rain, “Don’t be afraid. Nobody’s going to hurt you . . .” Surely that pitiful heap of human jetsam would understand the tone if not the words themselves.

Then, from Mayhew, “He’s terrified . . .”

“And so would you be. Help me, Ken. Get into his mind or whatever it is you do, and tranquilize him . . .”

“I’m . . . I’m trying, Sonya . . .”

“Then try a little harder. His hands are frozen onto the periscope . . .” She continued in a crooning voice, “You’re safe now . . . Just relax . . . We’ve got you . . .”

Another voice replied—high-pitched, gabbling. Grimes thought that he distinguished the word elohim.

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