Undersea Fleet by Frederik Pohl & Jack Williamson

Author:Frederik Pohl & Jack Williamson [Pohl, Frederik & Williamson, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780345275523
Google: _X8zAAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 0345275527
Goodreads: 1802171
Publisher: Orion
Published: 1955-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

11

Graduation Week

Gideon Park! Tall, black, loyal—just to see him there waiting for me in the Commandant’s office took an enormous weight off my shoulders. Gideon and I had been in plenty of tight spots together, and I had a lot of respect for the man.

Maybe we had a chance to carry through our plans after all!

Gideon and I had only a moment to talk together, that first afternoon. I whispered to him where he could find David Craken—in the boathouse on the estate of Trident’s Atlantic manager. He nodded and winked and left.

And I went back to dorm to get ready for evening mess, feeling better than I had in days.

I couldn’t get off Academy grounds that evening, but Bob hadn’t used all his passes. Right after evening chow he took off for the boathouse, to talk things over with Gideon and David Craken.

He returned seconds before Lights Out. He had been gone nearly four hours.

“It’s all right,” he whispered to me, hastily getting ready for bed. “Gideon brought the money with him.”

“How much?” I asked, keeping my own voice down—if the duty officer heard us, it was a demerit. And it was too close to the end of the school year to want demerits.

“Enough. Ninety-seven thousand dollars, Jim! He had it with him in cash. That’s the most money I ever saw in one place.”

I nodded in the darkness. “Ninety-seven thousand,” I repeated. “Funny amount—I suppose it was every penny he could raise.” It was a grim thought. I whispered urgently: “Bob, we’ve got to come through on this! If I know my uncle, he’s gone in debt for this—he’s repaying an obligation to Jason Craken. If anything goes wrong—if we can’t help Craken, can’t get this money back for my uncle—it’ll mean trouble for him.”

“Of course, Jim.” Bob was in bed already. “Gideon’s going to Sargasso Dome tomorrow,” he whispered. “To put up the bond so that our bid will be counted. There isn’t much time left.”

“Did you tell David that I’d seen Laddy Angel?” There was a pause for a second. “I—I forgot, Jim. I didn’t have much time, anyway. I was only there for a few minutes—”

I sat straight up in bed. “Only a few minutes! But, Bob—you were gone for hours!”

His voice was apologetic—and strained. “I was, well, delayed, Jim. I, uh—”

We both heard the rapping of the duty officer’s heels in the corridor outside.

That put an end to the conversation. But I couldn’t help wondering fuzzily, as I went to sleep—if Bob was gone four hours, and had only a few minutes in the beach house…what had he done with the rest of his time?

“Atten-HUT!” The voice of the Commandant roared through the loudhailers, and the whole student body of the Academy snapped to.

“By squadrons! Forward MARCH!”

The sea band struck up the Academy anthem, and the classes passed in review.

It was the end of Graduation Week. We wheeled briskly off the Quadrangle, past the reviewing stands, down the crushed coral of the Ramp, to the dispersal areas.

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