Berserker Attack by Fred Saberhagen

Author:Fred Saberhagen [Saberhagen, Fred]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780681560567
Publisher: Waldenbooks
Published: 1987-08-15T12:21:01+00:00

“Honorable Vincento!”

Vincento looked around in surprise and annoyance to discover the young man, Alzay or Valzay or whatever his name was, hurrying toward Vincento in obvious agitation, having evidently just descended from the tiny coiled stair where Will had begun his climb.

Valzay came hurrying up as if bringing the most vital news, though when he arrived all he had to relate was some imbecilic story about a bandit. Valzay’s eyes were looking sharply at the sawhorses and planks and the little wall of sand, even as he spouted pestiferous wordage that threatened to tangle Vincento’s thoughts.

Vincento interrupted him. “Young man, I suggest you give your recital to the soldiers.” Then he turned his back on the intruder. Now. If it was not the cable untwisting, and if it proved to be not some trick of the mounting above—then what? Certainly the bones of the cathedral were not creeping counterclockwise. But yet... His mind strained forward, sounding unknown depths. . . .

“I see, Messire Vincento, that you have already discovered my little surprise.” Derron saw very clearly how the game was certain to go, how it perhaps had gone already. But he also saw one desperate gamble that was still open to him and he seized the chance.

“Your—little—surprise?” Vincento’s voice became very deliberate. His brows knit as if presaging thunder, while he turned slowly back to face Derron. “Then it was you who sent that rascally friar to me in the night?”

The detail of the friar was confirmation, if any was needed, of what the berserker planned. “It was I who arranged this!” Derron gestured with proprietary pride at the pendulum. “I must confess, sir, that I have really been here for several days; at first in the company of some friends, who aided me in this construction.”

It was a big lie that Derron was improvising, and one that would not stand investigation. But if it had the initial impact that he hoped it would, Vincento would never want to investigate.

As he told the silent, grim old man how he and his imaginary aides had installed the pendulum, Derron visualized the berserker here at work, catlike, monkeylike, devilish, arranging mounting and cable and weight in order that ...

“... you see before you, Messire Vincento, a firm proof of the rotation of the globe!”

There was a startled gleam in the old eyes, but no real surprise. Beyond a doubt the desperate gamble had been justified. Now, to see if it could be won. Vincento had become a waiting statue, mouth twisted, eyes unblinking.

Derron spoke on. “Of course, I have followed your example, distinguished sir, and that of several of our contemporaries, in protecting rightful claim to this discovery while still keeping it secret for my own advantage in further research. To this end I have sent to several distinguished persons, in several parts of the world, anagram messages which encode a description of this experiment.

“This to keep the secret yet awhile was, as I say, my plan. But when word reached me of your present—difficulties—I found I could not stand idly by.

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